Coincidence

by Jann Rowland

  “Thank you, Miss Bennet, though I quite think the provocation rendered your words entirely understandable.”

  Gracing him with a smile, Elizabeth said: “I am afraid we shall simply have to disagree on that front. I will own, though; I am curious about your sentiments. You suggested that you wished to change my opinion soon after you realized it. That seems to indicate your feelings toward me were not what I thought they were.”

  Mr. Darcy winced. “It seems like I have been quite hopeless about this whole matter. To be honest, you caught my eye not long after we first met, and I found that I admired you within days.”

  “Truly?” asked Elizabeth, wondering at such a revelation.

  “Indeed. I have often retreated behind a mask of sorts to hide my true feelings.” Mr. Darcy showed her a self-deprecating smile. “It comes from being hunted by every woman of age to be married since I inherited my family estate.”

  “That I can understand,” murmured Elizabeth. She had never truly thought of why the man behaved as he did, content to simply assume it was his natural inclination. It was a lesson, she decided, not to assume anything about anyone she did not know.

  “To be honest,” said Mr. Darcy, a hint of his embarrassment still showing, “I had thought that I was being painfully obvious and that you must know of my feelings. Why, there were times when I could not tear my eyes from you!”

  “I thought you were only looking at me to find fault.” Elizabeth realized as soon as she spoke how inadequate an argument it was, and she wondered at her inability to see it before.

  “I know not what you think of men in general, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, a note of humor in his voice, “but a man does not look with such intensity at a woman he finds repulsive.”

  “Since you put it that way,” said Elizabeth, “I suppose it makes more sense than what I assumed.”

  The two exchanged a further glance and they laughed together. It was cathartic, as if a shared wound had somehow been healed, despite all that had passed between them. What it meant Elizabeth could not quite say, but she suddenly knew the man was not as abhorrent as she had previously thought. Then again, despite their spat, he had not been ‘abhorrent’ for some time now.

  “I would like you to know, Miss Bennet,” continued Mr. Darcy, his tone almost diffident, “I was prevented from stating my feelings, and for all that we can both be grateful I was not able to say what I wished, they are still with me, and are no less true because of it.”

  “Oh,” said Elizabeth, not very coherently. In truth, she was not quite sure what to say.

  “Now that we are to spend several weeks in close company, I wonder if you would be averse to my calling upon you.”

  The words were spoken quickly, as if he hurried to say them before he lost his nerve. Elizabeth gaped at him, wondering if she had heard him right. Surely he could not be thinking of continuing his addresses.

  “If you do not wish it, I understand,” said he, hurrying to reassure her when she did not immediately respond. “I would not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

  “You only surprised me, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, hurrying to respond in her turn. “I had not thought you would wish to have anything to do with me, after the scene between us.”

  “Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, “it would never be a matter of me not wishing to call on you. I have traveled far enough on this path to know that I have no reservations about you. If you do not wish for my attentions, you only need inform me and I shall not bother you with them again.

  “But if you feel you are willing to give me a chance to prove myself, then I would also ask that you tell me. I should very much like the opportunity to do so, if you are willing to allow it.”

  Elizabeth resisted the urge to shake her head, for she knew that Mr. Darcy would misconstrue the meaning of such a gesture. She did not know what to think. Mr. Darcy had overthrown all her impressions of him with his speech, and Elizabeth could not imagine what she should possibly say to him. How did one respond to a man who made such an impassioned speech, one for whom Elizabeth had felt nothing but loathing only a few short months before?

  As she considered his words, she watched Mr. Darcy, noted how the man controlled the impatience he must have been feeling, how he watched her, his heart seemingly in his eyes. And she wondered what it would possibly be like to be the sole focus of this man’s attentions, and to know that he was paying attention to her in the manner of a man to a woman. She had not considered these thoughts for long when she realized that she would very much like to know, like to experience it. How could she possibly deny him?

  So, in the end, Elizabeth gave the man the only answer that she could.

  “I give you leave to call on me, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps we can make a better go of it this time then we did the last.”

  The look of heart-felt delight which overspread his countenance was one Elizabeth would remember for the rest of her days.

  “Thank you, Miss Bennet,” said he, his voice quiet and teeming with emotion. “I shall endeavor to ensure that you never regret giving me this chance.”

  Soon the combined party arrived in Brighton, and they separated to their townhouses in order to settle in. The Bennets, when they arrived at the house Mr. Bennet had leased, were pleased to find that it was a bright and airy building, boasting enough bedrooms that they were not cramped (though Kitty and Lydia shared a room), a large sitting-room, a dining room which would accommodate them and the party of their friends, as well as a small music room with Mary’s requested pianoforte. It was comfortable, and they soon felt at home in it.

  Of course, upon seeing the dining room and the available space, Kitty and Lydia were soon speaking excitedly of how soon the officers could be invited to dine with them, and planning who they would invite. Mr. Bennet, though he said nothing, shook his head slightly at the girls, and all who saw him were certain that an invitation to the officers would not be approved. Mrs. Bennet, who might have championed just such a scheme, noted her husband’s disapproval and decided it would be best to say nothing, though it was also possible that she remembered Mr. Darcy’s communication concerning a certain officer, and decided she did not wish her daughters to associate with the man. Whatever the reason, Elizabeth was relieved.

  They also discovered that the Fitzwilliam townhouse was situated only a few streets over and closer to the waterfront, and that the distance between them could be walked in less than ten minutes. It was, of course, on a better street, and was a larger property, but Elizabeth and Jane, who had seen Mr. Darcy’s house in London, were pleased to note that this was not nearly so imposing a building. Their proximity assured that the parties were often in company with one another, and allowed them to continue their acquaintances with little trouble.

  It was only a matter of a day or two before the Bennet sisters had recovered enough from the long journey that they felt equal to leaving the townhouse, and soon they were out with their friends exploring their new surroundings. Brighton was different from Hertfordshire, but it was not at all like London. For one thing, the throngs of London were not present in such great numbers, and the streets were wider, the people almost seemed friendlier, and above all, it was cleaner, and though there were odors in the air which were not pleasing to the nose, they were fewer and less offensive than those which seemed to permeate London’s atmosphere. It was a pleasanter city, Elizabeth decided, and it seemed to be a lot safer for a group of young ladies exploring.

  It should not be wondered at that exploration was not on the minds of all the young ladies of the party. Soon after their arrival, Kitty and Lydia were eager to pay a call on Mrs. Forster, and though it was not stated, see if they could catch a glimpse of the camp full of officers, of which they had heard so much.

  “Remember what I told you before we left Longbourn,” said Mr. Bennet, inserting his opinion the moment the girls had brought it up. Unless Elizabeth missed her guess, she thought her father had been waiting for them to begin speaking of the sub
ject. “Brighton is different from Meryton, and the rules are different. You will not go chasing after officers, and you will certainly not see them without someone to watch over you.”

  “But Papa!” cried Lydia.

  Mr. Bennet lowered his paper and fixed his gaze on his youngest, and it was not long before she flushed and looked down, though Elizabeth was certain she had not been cowed.

  “You will not traipse all over Brighton by yourselves. I will not be moved on this. If you wish to visit the colonel’s wife, you will have Jane or Lizzy as an escort, and should they bring back reports of your misbehavior, you will be confined to the house.”

  Lydia opened her mouth to speak, but Mr. Bennet, who had already raised his paper and was perusing the front, spoke before she could. “Of course, it is not too late to hire a governess and send you back to Longbourn with her.”

  The threat was as efficacious as anything Elizabeth had ever seen, for Lydia’s mouth snapped shut with an audible clack. Kitty, who had been following the conversation, watched as her sister was silenced by her father, and apparently decided it was not worth it to protest. This action gained her a smile and a wink from her father, and she gained a certain level of insight into what her father would accept and would not.

  “Then Lizzy and Jane must accompany us,” declared Lydia, her tone petulant.

  “No, Lydia,” replied Mr. Bennet, still looking at his paper with apparent unconcern. “You shall not dictate to your elder sisters. You shall ask, and if they wish it and they have no other plans, they will accompany you. Your sisters are not at your beck and call, to come when you yell for them. They are to be treated as your elder siblings, ones to emulate and look up to, not to demand that they accompany you to wherever you have taken it in your heads to go. Am I clear?”

  Both girls nodded their heads—Lydia in suppressed annoyance—before Lydia spoke, her voice syrupy sweet and obviously false.

  “Jane, Lizzy, will you please accompany us to see Mrs. Forster today? Kitty and I would so love to visit her if you will agree to go.”

  Elizabeth shared a look with Jane, and they were both forced to stifle a giggle. Elizabeth was aware of her sister’s meaning, and thought she might have informed Lydia that they would not go only to vex her. But in the end, she decided such fun would be fleeting, and would almost certainly carry its own consequences.

  “Of course, Lydia,” said Elizabeth. “Jane and I would be happy to accompany you.”

  From behind his paper, Mr. Bennet made a sound which sounded suspiciously like a snort, but the sisters affected not to notice. At that moment, Mrs. Bennet walked into the room, and the talk soon turned to officers, handsome men in regimentals, and other such topics as could be suspected of three women who possessed little sense between them.

  “We are to go visit the officers this morning, Mama!” exclaimed Lydia, eager to share the news with her mother.

  “Oh, so many handsome men for you to charm, my dear!” returned Mrs. Bennet. “It is good of your father to have agreed to allow you this opportunity, and Lizzy to have helped convince him of the matter.”

  Elizabeth could almost hear the rolling of her father’s eyes behind his paper.

  “A whole camp full of soldiers, all dressed in their regimentals! I can hardly wait.”

  “I am afraid you will be forced to wait, Lydia,” said Elizabeth, frowning at her sister. “Jane and I agreed to a visit to Mrs. Forster—not a trip to the encampment.”

  “Oh, but we must go to the camp!” cried Lydia, Kitty nodding her head with vigor beside her. “We want to see the officers, and they will be at the camp.”

  “No, Lydia,” replied Elizabeth. “A camp of men is no place for a young lady.”

  “I am sure Harriet is often to be found there.”

  “But she is the colonel’s wife, and therefore, has certain duties to fulfill. We have no business at the camp, and we shall not go there.” When Lydia attempted to protest again, Elizabeth interrupted her: “If you meant to go to the camp, you should have said so, for Jane and I would not have agreed to escort you. In light of that, I do not believe there is any reason to leave the house this morning.”

  “Mama!” exclaimed Lydia. “Tell Lizzy she must accompany us to the camp!”

  “Of course, you must,” said Mrs. Bennet. She attempted a glare at Elizabeth, but it seemed like she remembered Elizabeth’s supposed influence with Mr. Bennet, and did not wish to take the chance of antagonizing her. “My Lydia is quite popular with the officers. We would not wish to deprive her of their company.”

  “I am certain she will get over the disappointment tolerably,” said Mr. Bennet, lowering his paper. He fixed a gaze on Lydia. The girl returned it with a glare, which seemed remarkably like a pout. “There will, no doubt, be opportunities to flirt with officers, bat your eyelashes, and direct your empty gaze at them in the weeks to come, for I do not doubt they will be active in this society, much as they were in Meryton.”

  “But Mr. Bennet—” said Mrs. Bennet, only to be interrupted by her husband.

  “Lizzy is right—our girls have no business at the camp, and they will not go there. They will be considered nothing less than brazen flirts if they are to be found in such circumstances.”

  “But—”

  “No, Lydia, I will not recant. As Lizzy has said, you may content yourself with a visit to Mrs. Forster this morning, or you may simply stay home.”

  It was a surprise to no one that Lydia chose the former.

  The encampment of soldiers was situated west of Brighton, and thus, Colonel Forster had taken a house for his wife not far from that side of the city. The four ladies climbed in the carriage for the short journey through the town to see a woman for whom Elizabeth had precious little respect.

  Mrs. Forster was not a bad sort. In fact, she was a pleasant and happy girl, and one who was not much older than Lydia, for all that she claimed the respectability of marriage. Unfortunately, she was much like Lydia in that she seemed to have a wandering eye and a penchant for admiring handsome young officers, and unfortunately, her husband could not claim either virtue.

  They were welcomed with enthusiasm and soon Lydia and Mrs. Forster were speaking in close confidence, with Kitty close by adding a comment here and there. Jane and Elizabeth were thus, left largely to their own devices, with their own cups of tea and the cakes that Mrs. Forster had ordered from her kitchens. Elizabeth decided not to despair, with a philosophical turn to her mind—no doubt, conversation with Mrs. Forster would be silly and nonsensical, and if the woman wished to spend all her time giggling with their youngest and silliest sister, then Elizabeth was quite happy to allow her to do so.

  “What do you think they are discussing?” asked Jane in a quiet voice once they had been sitting there for upwards of ten minutes.

  “The handsome way in which Mr. Denny wears his breeches?” asked Elizabeth.

  Jane stared at her as if horrified, and Elizabeth laughed quietly at being able to shock her proper elder sister. “I do not know what they discuss, Jane, but I doubt it is anything we would wish to hear.”

  Nodding, though apparently not knowing what to make of Elizabeth’s irreverent comment, Jane turned her watchful attention back to her younger sisters.

  When they had sat there for some five more minutes, Mrs. Forster turned to the elder sisters and smiled at them. “I am happy you have brought your sisters to visit, for I have missed them.”

  “It was no trouble, Mrs. Forster,” said Elizabeth. “I understand you have become the best of friends. I am quite happy for Lydia to continue her friendships.”

  “That is exactly it!” gushed the woman. “Now, they have expressed a desire to visit with the officers, so if you will come with me, we can go to the camp in my husband’s conveyance.”

  The sight of Lydia’s smug countenance coupled with Mrs. Forster’s announcement flamed Elizabeth’s anger, and she shook her head. “I am sorry, Mrs. Forster, but our father has forbidden us to go to the ca
mp.” She eyed Lydia whose smile had run away from her face. “Lydia knew this. I apologize if she allowed you the wrong impression.”

  “Oh bother, Lizzy!” exclaimed Lydia. “Papa shall never know. Let us go and see the officers!”

  “No, Lydia.” The others in the room were surprised, because it was mild Jane who spoke, and her voice was as firm as Elizabeth had ever heard. “You will not act against our father’s wishes. If you bring this subject up again, neither Lizzy nor I shall escort you here.”

  It was apparent that Lydia was not certain what to say to her sister’s words, for her mouth hung open for several moments. They were never to know what her response would be, as at that moment the doorbell rang, ending their conversation. Whether the interruption was fortunate, Elizabeth was not able to say, as soon several officers—including the detestable Wickham—were led into the room.

  “Mr. Wickham! Mr. Denny!” exclaimed Lydia, jumping to her feet and clapping her hands in delight. “We are so happy to see you, for we were only just speaking of you!”

  “And we are happy to see our favorite ladies from Hertfordshire,” answered Mr. Wickham, speaking in his typical smooth manner.

  Lydia’s smugness was back in full force, and she darted a sly glance back at her elder sisters. Elizabeth, however, looked at Lydia sternly as her sister grasped Mr. Wickham by the arm and began to direct him to a nearby seat.

  “Perhaps you do not recall, Lydia,” said Elizabeth, standing and removing Lydia’s hand from Mr. Wickham’s arm, “but our father has expressly forbidden you from even speaking with Mr. Wickham.”

  Everyone in the room stared at Elizabeth and more than a few mouths were hanging open in shock, but Mr. seemed struck by disbelief, though the shifty way in which his eyes darted around the room also suggested annoyance.

  “Surely, he did not mean—” began Mrs. Forster, but Elizabeth soon cut her off.

  “My father’s meaning is not for you, or anyone else, to interpret. His words were explicit and spoken with no hint of ambiguity. You, Lydia, gave him your solemn promise that you would not so much as acknowledge Mr. Wickham should he choose to approach you, and I mean to ensure you hold to that pledge.”