by Leenie Brown
Grumbling and sputtering, Wickham rushed to dress. He knew from experience that Denny made no idle threats.
“Why must I arise so early and is such haste?” Wickham demanded when he appeared below stairs.
“Sit and eat.” Denny motioned to the plate of food on the table. “We need to travel.”
Wickham took his seat at the table. “Travel? Where? And what of my children?”
“Your children are with my wife, where they will remain until I see that you are indeed ready to be their father again.” He stared at Wickham through narrowed eyes until Wickham took up his utensils and began eating. ” We’re going to Derbyshire.”
Wickham nearly choked on the bit of egg he had just popped into his mouth. “Why would I go to Derbyshire?”
“They are expecting us.”
“How can they be expecting us?” Wickham had had no communication with Fitzwilliam Darcy in years, save to send bits of money in repayment of the money he had demanded of Darcy, money which had been an inducement to marry. He was quite certain that Pemberley was one place where he was not welcome.
Her Father’s Choice
Choices, Book One
Prologue
October 1811
Not handsome enough but with fine eyes? Mr. Bennet chuckled to himself. It was as he had suspected when he had first met Mr. Darcy ─ Elizabeth would make him a fine wife. If only she had not heard that slight and taken such a strong disliking to the man. He sighed and shook his head. He knew to bring the two together would be quite the undertaking ─ difficult but necessary.
“I tried to arrange a dance between them,” said Sir William as he handed his long-time friend a glass of lemonade. “But, she is quite set against him, it seems.” The two gentlemen moved to a corner where they could sit and watch the proceedings of the party while conversing in relative privacy.
“I saw,” replied Mr. Bennet. “And then I heard him mention her fine eyes. Miss Bingley is quite put out by the comment. I do not envy his position of having an unhappy woman yapping at his elbow.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked as he took a sip of his drink.
Sir William lifted his glass in salute. “Here, here. I have had it happen a time or two in the past eight and twenty years myself. There is nothing quite like the continual complaining of a disgruntled woman robed in supposed humour to try one’s nerves.”
“He is a patient one. I am sure I could not abide Miss Bingley’s comments so graciously as he.” Mr. Bennet shifted in his chair. “But, if he can tolerate Miss Bingley in a fit of pique, he should be able to handle my Lizzy.”
“Aye, he should, but Lizzy’s tongue and mind are a bit sharper. And her opinions are not so easily swayed.” There was a hint of caution in Sir William’s voice. He agreed with his friend that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth would make a fine match, but he was not convinced Elizabeth could be swayed from her current dislike of the gentleman.
“She will come around, but,” Mr. Bennet lowered his voice, “that may not happen until after they are married.”
Sir William laughed. “Exactly how do you propose we get her to marry him when she does not like him? Surely, you would not suggest a compromise?”
Mr. Bennet tapped his finger against the side of his glass. “I would do most anything to assure the happiness of my Lizzy, even if it meant bearing her anger and forcing her hand.” He watched Elizabeth, who was talking intently to her dear friend, Charlotte Lucas. He smiled as she sneaked a third glance at Mr. Darcy. If Mr. Bennet was not mistaken, and he rarely was when it came to understanding Elizabeth, she was fascinated by the man from Derbyshire. It was a fascination that he was certain was foreign to her. “I pray it does not come to it, but if a compromise is necessary, can I count on your assistance?”
Sir William studied his friend and then Elizabeth for a moment. “You are convinced she will be happy?”
“Completely.”
“Then I will happily assist you with whatever you need.”
No Other Choice
Choices, Book Two
December 18, 1811
Lord Samuel Rycroft blinked and looked at his mother as if he was unable to understand what she had said. He took off his hat and placed it on the table in the entry way at Netherfield. “Pardon me?”
“I said we will depart for town when Miss Mary arrives.” His mother made her way back into the sitting room and peered out the window. “There is no need to fear. She knows I am always early.”
“I am still not understanding why we must wait for Miss Mary.” He unbuttoned his great coat and began to shrug out of it. He had hoped to be in the carriage by now and on his way to town.
“Good morning, Georgiana,” said Lady Sophia. “Did you have something to eat, my dear?”
“Yes, thank you.” Georgiana lay her outerwear on the settee with her aunt’s things and took a seat near the window, so that she could see the drive. “I cannot wait for Miss Mary to arrive. It will be ever so pleasant to have her company.”
“Company?” Rycroft’s brows drew together. “Surely, we must not wait for you to finish a visit before leaving.” He had things to do in town and a sister of Bingley’s to avoid. He definitely did not have time for a social call.
Georgiana laughed. “A visit? At this time of the morning? I think not, Cousin. Miss Mary is to travel with us.”
Lady Sophia sighed at her son’s still puzzled expression. “She is coming to stay with me. Georgiana will soon be able to return to her brother, and I do not wish to be lonely.” She smoothed her skirt over her legs. With her eyes lowered as they were she could not see his expression, which was her intent, but she could see his toe start to tap as the silence in the room grew. She looked up at him with a smile and then turned to look out the window.
“A project, Mother?” It was not unlike his mother to take on a less fortunate lady and help her to find a husband.
“No, no.” She shook her head . “Miss Mary is not a project. She is a friend.” She turned back to look at him. “I do like to have company of the female sort, and if that company happens to be a young lady of marriageable age and in need of some assistance, it makes me feel useful. It has been all arranged. Miss Mary will travel with us today and stay the week. We will visit the shops and arrange for her orders; then, she will return to Longbourn with her aunt and uncle for Christmas. She will rejoin us in the new year to participate in the season.”
“A project.” He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “And I am supposed to pay for this project?”
Lady Sophia crossed her arms. “Miss Mary is not a project. She is a friend and a guest of mine.”
“Aunt,” said Georgiana softly.
Rycroft sighed. “But you shall require me to attend all of the functions you select?”
“Well,” said Lady Sophia ignoring Georgiana’s second soft call, “we shall need an escort, and you need to attend anyway if we ever expect to find you a wife.”
“We do not need to find me a wife. I can do that on my own.” He hated being reminded of his duty to the title and his need to marry. He had been looking, but there were not any young ladies who interested him. They were all so agreeable, so biddable, so boring.
“You have done a poor job of it thus far, my son.” Lady Sophia cocked her head to the side and gave him a stern look. “If you will remember, I gave you until this season to sort it out for yourself. Now, I will assist you. The deadline has passed for you to continue on without my interference.”
“Fine.” His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched slightly. “I shall trot about with you and your project, Miss Mary, but I shall make my own decision.” He stiffened as he heard a gasp from the doorway behind him.
“Miss Mary,” Georgiana greeted Mary as excitedly as she could in an effort to counteract her cousin’s words. “I have been anxiously awaiting your arrival.”
Mary smiled as she always did when her father or mother or younger sisters said something insulting. It was not as if she was not
well-prepared for handling such situations. “Good morning, Miss Darcy, Lady Sophia, Lord Rycroft. My things are on their way with the carriage you sent, my lady.”
Rycroft noted how her lips smiled, but her eyes held an ample amount of displeasure when she looked at him ─ which she did only briefly. Her words may have been pleasant, but he was certain her thoughts were not.
His Inconvenient Choice
Choices, Book Three
January 1, 1812
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam unfolded the small piece of paper that had been tucked into his pocket as he left Netherfield after the wedding breakfast. He shook his head. Two cousins and a friend married all within the space of two weeks was enough to set anyone’s world on end. It was also the sort of thing that made him contemplate his own future. Such thoughts often made his breathing feel forced. He drew a deep breath, trying to rid his body of the feeling of being crushed, but it was only slightly helpful. He knew that his future was not to be as happy as those of his cousins and Bingley. He was not free to choose where he wished. His marriage would be one of convenience; his father would see to that.
He looked surreptitiously at the paper in his palm, not wishing to draw attention to it from the others in the carriage. The drawing there brought a smile to his lips and a pang of regret to his heart. Forget-me-nots graced the lid of a box from which spilled strands of pearls and chains of gold. He folded the drawing again and slipped it back into his pocket. If his heart could make his choice for him instead of his father, Kitty Bennet would be his choice. She had stolen his heart when she shivered in the wind on the street in front of the milliner’s shop as she insisted on being introduced to him as Katherine. Upon further acquaintance, she had proven to be a lady who shared many of his same interests and who made him feel at ease. She expected no more from him than to be himself. He did not need to be a military leader or the son of an earl. She was interested in his wooden creations ─ and not as a lady who was trying to make a favourable impression on a gentleman. No, she listened with interest and animation. She had even sketched a few designs that he might like to use.
“If you could wait but a year,” she had said as they strolled the perimeter of the ballroom last evening, “then your inheritance would be yours.”
“He will not allow me to be free. He will insist on my marrying before he gives me one farthing more than I have,” he had replied. Her eyes had filled with tears that she refused to shed, and his heart had broken a bit more at the thought of a life without her. “If I could wait,” he had whispered. “I would wait a thousand years for you.”
She had smiled sadly at him and said, “And I would wait for you.”
He ran his gloved finger over the drawing in the pocket of his coat. “Do not forget me,” she had said as she had slipped it into his pocket when he was taking his leave of her. He knew he would never forget her. His hand closed around the paper.
“You are looking rather pensive, Colonel,” said Caroline Bingley. “Are they pleasant thoughts?”
“Not all of them,” he said as he turned to look out the window. If the weather had not been so foul, he would have refused Hurst’s offer to travel with him.
“That is a pity,” said Louisa. “I prefer to think on pleasant things whenever possible.”
“As do I,” said Richard, “but it is not always possible.”
“A colonel must have many unpleasant things to consider,” added Caroline.
“He must,” said Richard. “However, I was not thinking as a colonel but as a mere man.”
Hurst snorted at the comment. “Do leave him be, Caroline.”
“I was only attempting to pass the time in conversation,” she replied with a huff. “The light is too poor for anything else.”
“I find a quiet nap a most refreshing way to pass a trip,” replied Hurst.
“How dull,” said Caroline.
“Not at all,” said Richard. “I find I would like to close my eyes. It has been a busy two days.”
Hurst nodded. “You were out with your men yesterday, were you not?”
“I put them through a few drills to test them. Those who passed were allowed to attend the ball. Those who did not pass were confined to quarters for the evening.” It had been his plan, and a successful one, to keep Wickham from the ball. He would take every opportunity afforded him by his position to ensure that Wickham had less pleasure than he desired. It was the one pleasure he received from his duty.
“And, I believe, you danced every dance, did you not?” asked Louisa.
“All save one.” His heart pinched, for that one had been set aside to stroll with Kitty.
“Oh, Hurst, you are right. I do believe a nap must be had. What with an early morning yesterday for the colonel, a night of dancing, and another early start to the day today, he must be very tired.” She turned to Caroline. “It would be unkind of us to keep him from his rest.”
“I thank you,” said Richard with a bow of his head. Then added, “I am indeed rather tired,” as he settled back and closed his eyes.
Conversation with anyone at present would be unpleasant; with Caroline Bingley, it would be even more so. His fingers once again sought that slip of paper in his pocket. Finding it, he allowed his mind to wander to the lady who had given it to him, and with a deep exhale, he attempted to find some peace in sleep.