Coincidence

by Jann Rowland

  A sudden thought seemed to occur to Bingley. “Can I assume that Caroline did not even bother to send Miss Bennet a letter, informing her of our departure?” A sneer curled his lip. “I can well imagine it of her. She waxes eloquent about your sister being a perfect prospective bride, and has even begun to speak of Miss de Bourgh in a like manner; I cannot imagine she would attend to the niceties of society for the sake of a woman who was a threat to her grand scheme.”

  “As far as I am aware, she did send Miss Bennet a letter, and perhaps more than one.”

  Bingley snorted. “I cannot imagine it was anything Miss Bennet would wish to read. It most certainly would not have been anything I wished to say.”

  Though he murmured his agreement, Darcy did not say anything further. In truth, he did not know any more of the matter than did Bingley himself, though his conjecture suggested that Bingley was entirely correct.

  “I suppose there is nothing to be done,” said Bingley after a long pause. “If she does not give me the short shrift when I return, I am certain her father would meet me at the door to Longbourn with his hunting rifle in hand.”

  “I believe you do Miss Bennet a disservice in this instance.”

  “More advice?” asked Bingley, though without malice.

  Darcy shook his head. “Only an honest assessment. I never thought Miss Bennet to be unsuitable, you know. I only thought her situation to be lacking, and her affections to be the work of her mother. What is clear, however, is that to which you have already alluded—she is proper, certainly, but I also believe she is a forgiving creature. I cannot imagine she would greet your arrival in the neighborhood with anything other than welcome, though you may be required to prove your love and your steadfastness to her.”

  “That would be a feat of prodigious proportions.”

  “Perhaps you should make the attempt,” said Darcy. “If she truly means that much to you, surely the effort would be worth it.”

  “Worth the risk of seeing the contempt in her eyes?”

  “You must examine your feelings for her,” replied Darcy. “I will not advise you, beyond telling you what I have learned. Miss Elizabeth was insistent in declaring the reality of her sister’s affections. The question you must ask yourself is whether obtaining Miss Bennet’s hand is worth the risk of being disappointed.”

  “She is worth everything I own,” averred Bingley.

  “Then your path is clear.”

  Bingley sighed. “I suppose it is. The risk is nothing more than that of experiencing the same disappointment she has these last months, and if that is what happens, then so be it. It is the least of what I deserve.”

  Then Bingley turned his attention to Darcy. “You will accompany me?”

  Darcy hesitated. Could he put himself in Miss Elizabeth’s company again? Would she wish to see him again? Did he wish to see her?

  The answer to his last question was an unequivocal affirmative, but whether she would even greet him with civility was another matter. Still, as Bingley had declared his own Bennet sister to be worth the risk, so Darcy knew that his own was worth this risk and far more. He dared not think of anything beyond simply supporting his friend, but given the opportunity to possibly gain Miss Elizabeth’s hand, he would take that chance without any thought of the consequences. So Darcy answered his friend the only way he could.

  “Of course I will, Bingley. You have my unqualified support.”

  The sensation of being her mother’s favorite daughter was one Elizabeth found to be strange indeed. But nonetheless, for a brief period anyway, that was the position she inhabited, dubious though such an honor might be.

  It had started after her father had disappeared back into his study once the announcement had been made concerning their newly created plans for the summer months. Elizabeth, though she looked upon the prospect of a summer in Brighton with some curiosity, would have preferred to accompany her aunt and uncle to the north. It truly had been unfortunate that they had been forced to cancel that journey for this year.

  But at least Lydia was not to travel to Brighton by herself, and while Elizabeth knew that much of the care for her younger sisters would fall and her and Jane’s shoulders—given her father’s edicts about the dangers of Brighton—she chose, on the whole, to be relieved that her sister would have supervision.

  It was while she had been in the midst of these thoughts that Elizabeth’s reverie was interrupted by her mother’s voice. She soon found herself in the middle of an unusual sort of conversation.

  “Oh, Lizzy!” cried her mother. “I am so happy you were able to persuade your father, though I am vexed that he will not listen to me. And we have been married these past five and twenty years!”

  “Mother?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Why, that you convinced him that we should all go to Brighton for the summer. I spoke with him repeatedly, and he would not agree to it. In fact, he declared that he had no intention of yielding to my persuasions.” Mrs. Bennet turned a long look on Elizabeth. “In fact, I would be very much obliged should you inform me of how you were able to do it.”

  To that, there was little Elizabeth could say, and certainly nothing that would satisfy her mother. Mrs. Bennet bustled around the room, though exactly what her mother was busy doing, Elizabeth could not quite fathom.

  “Well, I suppose it does not signify how you have managed to do it. We should be content you did. And I am certain we shall all have a splendid time in Brighton! I am only a little confused, as I would have thought that you would oppose such a scheme.”

  As she had done that very thing, Elizabeth decided it was best to stay silent. In the ensuing days, the idea advanced to the point where it became a firm plan. Mr. Bennet’s agent soon found a house for lease in Brighton, and he assured his employer that it was comfortable and in a good location, though Elizabeth knew it would not be a large house in a fashionable district. Still, it would be more than sufficient for the family’s needs. Plans were created and the family soon lost themselves in preparations.

  Mrs. Bennet soon took advantage of her husband’s promise, and new gowns were purchased for her daughters, and though her mother made no overt comments—a surprise for someone as little guarded as she—Elizabeth knew that the fabrics and styles were carefully selected in the hope that at least one of her daughters might find a gentleman to admire them in Brighton. On the likeliness of such an event, Elizabeth declined to speculate.

  And as the time wore on, Elizabeth often found herself the target of her mother’s attention, or, perhaps more appropriately, her stratagems. Given what she viewed as Elizabeth’s success in convincing Mr. Bennet, she would often try to engage Elizabeth in the arguments she had with her husband. The details of these discussions were often trite in nature, and though Mr. Bennet would no doubt have refused his wife’s entreaties simply to vex her, when Elizabeth was enlisted, he would often agree without comment, furthering Mrs. Bennet’s belief that her second daughter held some sort of mysterious sway with her father. Soon, Mrs. Bennet ceased to approach her husband at all, instead informing Elizabeth what she wished and sending her to him to obtain permission.

  Her father obviously held this development with some amusement. “I shall not speak with your mother about it,” said he one morning when Elizabeth, desperate for some relief from his wife, asked him to intervene. “She is happier and more content than she has been in some time, and thus, there is much less noise. Let her believe what she wishes, for she will be the happier for it.”

  And Elizabeth was forced to be content. But she was not sanguine, and as a result, she found that she often walked the paths of Hertfordshire more, intent upon staying out of her mother’s presence as much as she could.

  On a particularly fine morning less than a week before their scheduled departure, Elizabeth left the house somewhat later than she had intended because she and Jane had been awake speaking late the night before. As the sun was already climbing the sky by the time she left, it was already warm
enough that she did not truly require the spenser she was wearing, and prompting her to pull the brim of her bonnet low to cover her face and protect her from the sun. It had been a strange year with strange happenings, and though she was still of two minds about Brighton, Elizabeth could not but help to anticipate the new sights she would see when they arrived there.

  When Elizabeth had walked for perhaps a half an hour, she stopped at a prominence in the path, from where there was a clear view of Netherfield in the distance. It was too far to make out much of significance, but there looked like there was some activity outside the estate. She laughed to herself; it would be truly unfortunate if Mr. Bingley were to return to Netherfield when the Bennets were to quit the neighborhood.

  Turning away, Elizabeth continued her walk, making her way down the path back into the woods. The path continued straight for some time before it curved abruptly to the left. When it did, Elizabeth discovered that she was not as alone as she had thought.

  “Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Wickham, bowing low as he slowed his walk to greet her. He had been walking in the opposite direction, and seemed genuinely happy to see her.

  “I had no notion that you would be found on these paths this morning, though given your reputation, I suppose it should come as no surprise. How do you do this morning?”

  “I do very well, Mr. Wickham. Thank you.”

  Elizabeth had seen Mr. Wickham since his visit to Longbourn with the other officers, but she had not spoken to him. Thoughts of his words which incorrectly described Georgiana’s character were still ringing in her head, and his behavior during their first meeting had made her warier of him than she had been in the early days of their acquaintance.

  Mr. Wickham seemed not to notice her reticence. He was still quick to greet her, his enthusiasm easy for her to see. At least Elizabeth was happy to note there was no significant difference from his behavior toward anyone else in the area.

  “I am surprised to see you here, sir,” said Elizabeth. “I had understood that the regiment was engaged in its final preparations to depart.”

  “Indeed, you are correct,” replied Mr. Wickham. “But such tasks do not take all of my time. I shall be departing in two days for Brighton, though some of the men have already left to prepare for our arrival. But I found that I could not leave until the last possible moment. The area has been too kind to me, and there are some with whom I am loath to be parted.”

  The man had often said such things to Elizabeth, though she had heard him say so to others as well, most particularly her younger sisters. Elizabeth was beginning to understand that the man was an incorrigible flirt, so she did not think much of it, beyond the fact that she had no interest in encouraging his attentions.

  “Then I bid you a good day, Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth, dropping into a shallow curtsey.

  “I am not so busy at present,” replied he, “for my preparations have been completed. Shall we not walk together for a time?”

  “I believe I should be returning to my home,” replied Elizabeth.

  “Then allow me to walk you there.”

  There was something in his manner which suggested an eagerness Elizabeth did not find precisely pleasing, but there was little she could do without being rude. But Elizabeth set a quick pace in order to be free of his company as soon as she could, forcing him to lengthen his stride. She had intended to remain silent, but Mr. Wickham soon spoke, necessitating a reply.

  “It is fortunate that I have come upon you, for your words upon our reunion in May have intrigued me. You suggested that Georgiana is naught but a shy girl. Is that not correct?”

  “I hardly think that anyone being admitted to her company would think anything else, Mr. Wickham. I discerned that within five minutes of making her acquaintance. I would have thought that one who has known her for all her life would already understand that about her.”

  The caustic words seemed to do nothing to provoke a reaction from Mr. Wickham. He only regarded her gravely. “You must understand, Miss Bennet, that I have not seen Georgiana in some years. When I last saw her, she was exactly as I had described.” He laughed, a caustic sort of sound. “Of course, at that time, she was not nearly as proficient as her brother at being proud and disagreeable, but it was clear she was under his tutelage.”

  “You have my apologies, Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth, “but I cannot credit your words. She is as sweet and unassuming as any girl I have ever met, and I cannot imagine that she could have been this imperious creature you describe at the age of twelve.”

  “Eleven, actually,” said Mr. Wickham with an absence of mind. “I do find your inability to believe me disturbing, Miss Bennet.”

  “I cannot imagine how it would affect you at all, Mr. Wickham. My opinion can mean nothing to you.”

  “It means more than you know,” replied Mr. Wickham, though in a tone so soft Elizabeth was not certain she heard him. “And what of Darcy? It seems to me, given your ready forgiveness of the man’s sister, that your opinion of him must be improved.”

  “You are mistaken, Mr. Wickham. There is nothing for me to forgive of Georgiana Darcy. As for Mr. Darcy, there is not much for me to say.”

  “Not much for you to say, or nothing you will say?”

  “Neither,” said Elizabeth. She increased her pace, seeking to be away from the man’s increasingly odious company.

  “I assume you also met Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter,” said Mr. Wickham. He seemed to take no notice of her eagerness to quit his company.

  “I believe I have already said I did.”

  “Then can you excuse Lady Catherine’s imperious manners as well? And is Anne not a cross and sickly creature?” The harsh laugh which issued forth from Mr. Wickham’s lips was even more grating now than it had been only moments earlier.

  Elizabeth stopped and whirled on the man. “You seem to take an eager interest in my impressions of Mr. Darcy’s family. I cannot understand what you mean by it, since I have only made their acquaintances and nothing more.”

  The sneer the man directed at her was nothing like she had ever seen from him in the past. “I simply wish to understand you. Given you apparent propensity for excusing proud and haughty behavior, I might wonder what has provoked this change of opinion. Could it be the lure of ten thousand a year, grand houses, and being showered with jewelry and the other fine trappings of the wife of a man of fortune?”

  This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to favor him with a harsh laugh, and he did not appear to appreciate her returning his gesture. “Now I must think you to be imagining things, sir. Can you truly think that a man of Mr. Darcy’s stature would pay such a compliment to one such as I?”

  “Only a few weeks ago, I would have thought it impossible,” rejoined Mr. Wickham. “But now I must wonder.”

  “Well, you may wonder no longer. Mr. Darcy would not, and even if he did, I would not accept him.”

  Elizabeth turned to walk away. “Now, if you will allow me, I believe I should like to return to Longbourn. Alone.”

  “That would be unchivalrous of me, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Wickham, hurrying to catch up with her. “In fact, I am, as ever, your servant, and I would be happy to return you to your father’s estate.”

  “There is no need. I would beg you to desist.”

  “No, I insist.”

  Elizabeth rounded on the man again, but her words died on her lips. For there, on a side path, stood the tall figure of a horse and rider. It was Mr. Darcy.

  Chapter XVIII

  Several thoughts went through Elizabeth’s mind at once: shock that Mr. Darcy should appear out of nowhere, mortification that she should be found—even unwillingly—alone on a country path with Mr. Wickham, and even a faint sense of annoyance for the man in question. The last was provoked by the faintly disapproving slant to his eyebrows as he gazed upon them. Though Elizabeth knew it was not precisely proper to be found on a secluded path with a man, she could mean nothing to him, after all, especially given the
circumstances of their last parting.

  “Darcy!” cried Mr. Wickham, seeming to recover from his surprise more quickly than Elizabeth. “I might have known that you would show up at some time or another. But you have come upon us at an inopportune time, for Miss Bennet and I were engaged in a private conversation.”

  “I think you misstate the situation, Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth, scowling at the man in revulsion, annoyed with him for attempting to misrepresent their meeting. “In fact, I was trying to divest myself of the pleasure of your company.”

  Mr. Darcy could not be said to be slow of wit, for he understood the situation in an instant. “It seems your forked tongue continues to flick about, Wickham. Miss Bennet does not wish for your company—I suggest you remove yourself while you are still able.”

  “I do not fear you.”

  When Mr. Darcy jumped down from his horse and strode toward him, Mr. Wickham recoiled slightly, belying his bravado to the contrary. But he soon recovered and stood up tall and proud, facing Mr. Darcy as if daring him to do his worst.

  “Perhaps you should recall that I possess the power to make your life a living hell,” snarled Mr. Darcy.

  “Perhaps you should recall that I can ruin your precious little sister with nothing more than a whisper in the right ears.”

  The glare with which Mr. Darcy impaled Mr. Wickham was positively feral. “Perhaps you should try it. While she might suffer for a few days or weeks, by the time she comes out, it will be nothing less than old news, and our family connections will ensure her position. I will not even mention that her demeanor will give lie to your assertions.

  “If I call in your debts, you will suffer for the rest of your miserable life. There are enough to see that you will never again see the light of day. Think of that as you consider your behavior, for you will be rotting in the darkest cell I can find long after she marries and is living happily with her husband.”