‘Now,’ said Mr Darcy, as he settled himself back against the squabs. ‘You had better tell me everything. Hold nothing back. If you have been involved in this in any way, I will find out, so you had better tell me at once.’
‘Involved in it?’ demanded Elizabeth angrily. ‘What do you take me for?’
‘I take you for a young woman who has scraped an acquaintance with an heiress at a seaside resort,’ he remarked.
‘You are the most insufferable man I have ever met,’ she said. ‘Are you always so arrogant?’
‘Arrogant?’ he asked in surprise.
‘Yes. Arrogant, high handed, contemptuous and supercilious,’ she said with a spark in her eyes. ‘You declared me to be an unsuitable friend for your sister when you knew nothing about me, and now you have the effrontery to imply that I might have had something to do with your sister’s difficulties, when the fault lies squarely at your door.’
‘Miss Bennet, you go too far,’ he said, with an angry set of his mouth.
‘I do not go far enough. You sent your sister down to Ramsgate with only a companion and a few servants to protect her and keep her company, and then you wonder why she was vulnerable to the charms of a man like George Wickham!’
‘Charms?’ he said in disgust.
‘Yes, charms!’ she declared. ‘Georgiana —’
‘Miss Darcy to you!’ he said.
‘Georgiana,’ she said firmly, ‘is at an impressionable age. If a good looking man, with a good address, takes an interest in her and pays her compliments then of course she is going to regard him favourably, especially if he is an old family friend.’
‘He is nothing of the kind!’
‘As I have come to realise,’ said Elizabeth. She had suspected as much and Mr Darcy’s behaviour showed her that she had been right. ‘But if he is not an old family friend then why did Georgiana think he was? She must have had some reason for it.’
‘He was once admitted to our family circle,’ Mr Darcy conceded. ‘He was the son of my father’s steward and we grew up together. But he turned out wild and it is now some time since I have thought of him as a friend. He refused to apply himself to any profession and I washed my hands of him. Georgiana was well aware of it. Mr Wickham and I have not been friends for years.’
‘But it was not hard for him to persuade her otherwise,’ said Elizabeth. ‘What more natural than that a loving young lady, such as your sister is, should hope for a reconciliation and see it as inevitable when it happened? I doubt if Georgiana has ever held a grudge in her life.’
‘No. In that we are different, for my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever,’ he said, almost to himself.
‘That is very harsh,’ said Elizabeth in surprise.
He turned deep-set eyes on her and she saw that once again they were filled with a haughty disdain. They said, more clearly than words, Who are you to judge me? Me, Fitzwilliam Darcy?
But Elizabeth was not quelled. She had a strong spirit, and it rose to every challenge.
‘A world without forgiveness would be a very hard place to live in. If every wrong is to be held against us forever, then what hope is there for any of us? We are none of us without fault.’
Mr Darcy did not reply, he merely looked at her with arrogant eyes.
‘But perhaps you are without fault,’ she said challengingly.
She wanted to pierce his arrogant armour and humble his pride. She had never met anyone like him before. He was so certain of everything, and she was sure he had never doubted himself or his opinions in his life.
And why should he? Brought up as a rich and powerful man, surrounded by lackeys who agreed with him all the time, and with only a younger sister who was in awe of him, there was no one to keep his pride in check.
In her own household, such pomposity would not have survived for five minutes. It would have been pricked before it had time to take root. But Mr Darcy, with no parents, and with a sister who was so much younger than him . . . Mr Darcy had no one to puncture his conceit.
‘We are none of us without fault,’ he said at last.
But he said it in such a way that it was clear he thought he did not have any faults, whatever he might say.
‘Then you, also, must have faults. Do you hope to correct them, and to be forgiven for them? Or do you perhaps think they are so insignificant that you do not need to correct them? Or perhaps you have such a low opinion of everyone else that you do not care if they are forgiven or not. Perhaps your own good opinion is sufficient for you.’
‘You seem to have a very decided view of me on such a short acquaintance,’ he remarked in some agitation.
She was glad to have pierced his armour, even in a small way.
‘Sometimes, a short acquaintance is enough.’ Her thoughts went to her first sight of Mr Wickham, bowing over Georgiana’s hand. ‘I knew that Mr Wickham was not to be trusted the moment I set eyes on him. There was something abut his manner which was overly familiar, and when Miss Darcy tried to introduce him to me, he interrupted her and took the introduction into his own hands.’
‘So that he could give a good account of himself, no doubt.’
Elizabeth nodded.
‘He introduced himself as a friend of the family,’ she said.
‘Whereas he is nothing of the kind. I thought only of Georgiana’s health and happiness when I sent her to Ramsgate. I did not know Wickham would follow her here!’
‘No, and you would never have known, if I had not advised your sister to tell you about it in her next letter.’
‘You advised her to tell me?’ he asked in surprise.
‘Yes. I had no right to tell her what to do, and so I could not tell her to forbid him the house, but I was suspicious of his attentions and I was sure you would like to know that he was here. So I suggested she mention his presence in her next letter. I felt sure you would know what to do about it.’
‘And so I did,’ he said. ‘I made arrangements to visit her as soon as her letter arrived. Unfortunately the letter was delayed, or else I would have been here sooner. But I did not know that I had you to thank for the information.’
‘That is hardly surprising, since you did not give me a chance to speak. You bustled me out of the house yesterday as if I were a beggar. Worse, for even a beggar at my house would be treated with some civility.’
He scowled, but by the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, she could tell her remark had hit home.
With his next breath he tried to justify his conduct.
‘My sister has been the object of unscrupulous people in the past, who have scraped an acquaintance with her in order to ingratiate themselves with my family,’ he said. ‘It has been my duty to protect her from such impertinences.’
‘And so, because there are some unscrupulous people in the world, everyone who speaks to your sister must be suspect?’ demanded Elizabeth.
By now he had recovered his aplomb. He turned superior eyes on her and said, ‘Yes, they must. I would rather offend a stranger than expose my sister to the false friendships of those who seek to use her for their own purposes.’
‘Then, if you are going to be so severe, it would be as well to be certain of your facts before subjecting innocent people to your disapproval,’ she said, her eyes flashing.
‘And in the meantime?’ he demanded. ‘Is my sister to suffer the pangs of betrayal when she discovers that her new friends are nothing of the sort, but are merely people who are using her for their own ends? It is better for me to be suspicious to begin with, and save her that pain. There is time enough for friendships to develop when I have vetted her new acquaintance.’
‘Then I hope you will find some people you think suitable quickly,’ Elizabeth flashed back. ‘Your sister is lonely. She is pining for female companionship of her own age. It is not enough to give her a large house and beautiful clothes and an array of servants. She must have friends or she will be poor indeed.’
Mr Darcy’s pride had been gro
wing throughout this speech.
‘It is not your place to lecture me on the way I look after my sister,’ he exploded, his dark eyes flashing with outrage.
‘Well, someone must do it, and if you are as high-handed with everyone else as you are with me, I dare say they are too cowed to tell you anything you do not wish to hear,’ remarked Elizabeth, refusing to be cowed. ‘And few people, I dare say, would be brave enough to tell you the same thing twice. But it is your sister who is suffering. She needs young ladies with whom she can discuss fashions and bonnets and music and romance.’
‘She is far too young to be thinking about romance,’ said Mr Darcy curtly.
‘Apparently not, since Mr Wickham was able to win her affection so easily,’ returned Elizabeth pointedly.
He had no answer for that and so he fell into a brooding silence. His fine cheekbones were etched and his jaw was set as he looked out of the window, his dark eyes full of turmoil. His shoulders were held straight, but she could tell it was an effort for him not to slump in his distress. He set one booted foot on the raised edge of the door and he rested his elbow on his knee. The black of his tailcoat showed up in stark contrast to the white of his breeches, and he drummed his fingers against the window in frustration.
Elizabeth despised Mr Darcy for his rudeness, but she could not help pitying his distress. He was a good brother even if he was misguided, because it was clear he loved Georgiana very much.
At last the coach turned off the road and clattered into the yard of a coaching inn.
‘Wait here,’ he said to Elizabeth as it drew to a halt.
Without giving her a chance to reply, he jumped out of the carriage and went to consult the ostlers about any other carriages which had just passed through.
He rejoined Elizabeth a few minutes later.
‘They have been here,’ he said. ‘They changed horses and sped off again, but we have been making good time and we are now not more than five or ten minutes behind them. We will soon catch them.’
The coach set off again at a riotous pace. Since the horses were still fresh, and since Mr Darcy intended to overtake his sister in a few miles, he had not taken the time to have his own horses changed.
He said no more to Elizabeth. Instead, he resumed his former brooding attitude.
Elizabeth turned to look out of the window in an effort to catch sight of Wickham’s carriage. But Mr Darcy was reflected in the carriage window, and she found herself tracing his face with her eyes in an effort to work him out.
His character was a complex one. Even on such a short acquaintance, she had seen many contradictions in it. He was a proud and arrogant man, and yet his affection for his sister was real and sincere. Moreover, it revealed a softer side of his character. She wondered what that softer side would be like and regretted that she would not have a chance to find out, for he would never show it to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Who was Miss Elizabeth Bennet, after all? In the opinion of Mr Darcy she was no one at all. And so she would never see anything of him except his proud and haughty exterior.
The coach turned a bend and there, ahead of her, she saw a carriage she recognised.
‘It is them!’ she exclaimed.
Mr Darcy told the coachman to push the horses harder, and soon the coach drew level with Mr Wickham’s carriage.
The coachman, an expert driver, pressed Mr Wickham’s carriage hard and forced it off the road.
Mr Wickham’s coachman cursed but no one paid him any attention.
Mr Darcy leapt out of the coach, closely followed by Elizabeth, and flung open the door of Mr Wickham’s carriage.
Elizabeth’s heart went out to Georgiana. From the state of her dress it was obvious what had happened. Mr Wickham had attempted to ruin Georgiana so that Mr Darcy would agree to a marriage after all.
Luckily, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy had caught Mr Wickham in time, and although Georgiana was upset, no damage had been done.
As Mr Darcy caught Mr Wickham by the lapels and dragged him out of the coach, where he felled him with one well-placed punch, Georgiana collapsed into Elizabeth’s arms.
‘Hush,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You are safe now. There is no harm done.’
There was a hint of a question in her voice, and Georgiana shook her head. ‘He kissed me, but he had time for no more. Oh! To think how I once dreamed of his kisses! But he was not the man who courted me. That man was polite and charming and full of deference. The man who abducted me was another man entirely, a desperate villain who would stop at nothing to gain his own ends. How can one man have two such different faces?’
‘You are very young,’ said Elizabeth soothingly. ‘You will soon learn to tell the difference between a good man and a bad one, and your brother will be more careful of your companions in future, for it is clear Mrs Younge must have been involved.’
‘Yes,’ said Georgiana, as her sobs subsided. ‘She knew Mr Wickham and they arranged it together.’
Elizabeth put her arm around Georgiana and led her towards the coach.
As she did so, she heard Mr Wickham say, ‘If you mention this to anyone, Darcy, I will say that Georgiana came willingly and I will ruin her reputation.’
Elizabeth saw that Mr Darcy was controlling himself with great difficulty, but his pride had got the better of his anger and he did not knock Mr Wickham down again.
‘If you ever say one word against Georgiana, I will destroy you,’ said Mr Darcy, his face white with anger. ‘I will make sure that nowhere in England will hold you.’ He turned to Mrs Younge. ‘And as for you, Ma’am, you will never again work for a decent family. You have betrayed your trust and you are lucky I don’t take you before the magistrate. But I will make sure you never again have a young lady in your charge. Now be gone, the pair of you, before I change my mind about letting you go.’
Mr Wickham and Mrs Younge picked themselves up and climbed hurriedly back into their carriage.
Mr Darcy approached and Georgiana shrank from him, too ashamed to go to him. But Mr Darcy held out his hands to her and then she flew to him like a bird, burying her face in his coat. His strong arms closed around her and she sobbed on his chest.
‘So there is some forgiveness in you, after all,’ said Elizabeth softly.
But Mr Darcy turned a hard gaze on Elizabeth and said, ‘Georgiana was not at fault. There is nothing to forgive. It is Mr Wickham and Mrs Younge who were at fault, and I will never forgive them.’
He led Georgiana back to the coach, comforting her all the while.
Elizabeth followed them, with her aunt’s maid bringing up the rear.
Mr Darcy gave Elizabeth an uncomprehending look when she climbed into the coach and she realised with a shock that, now he had no further use for her, he did not expect her to go any further with him.
Her spirit rose at once.
‘Perhaps you would prefer I walk to London?’ she asked defiantly, smarting from his look.
A frown crossed his face. He hesitated for a brief moment and then said grudgingly, ‘No, that will not be necessary.’
‘That is very good of you,’ she said, with a haughty gaze of her own. ‘How kind of you not to expect me to walk for fifty miles or more. Now, if you would be good enough to take me to Gracechurch Street, I would be much obliged,’ she said.
Mr Darcy’s look of disgust conveyed his views on Gracechurch Street. It was a respectable address, but it was not in a fashionable part of town, and it was inhabited by men of business and not by men of any great social standing. Nevertheless, Mr Darcy gave his coachman instructions to take them there, and they were soon on their way again.
The rest of the journey was completed in silence.
Georgiana, exhausted from her ordeal, sank against her brother’s chest.
Mr Darcy, his face stony, appeared to be thinking about what he would like to do to Mr Wickham if he were not too much of a gentleman to do it.
Elizabeth’s maid did not like to speak.
And Elizabeth’s mind was too full o
f everything that had happened to allow her to say anything.
When at last the coach turned into Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth took a subdued leave of the Darcys. Georgiana turned her head and attempted a smile, but she was clearly still shocked and not capable of anything more.
Mr Darcy did not even climb out of the coach in order to hand Elizabeth down. He merely made her a slight bow as she bid him farewell.
Never had she been made to feel more insignificant.
As she heard the coach pulling away she thought that, if not for the friendship she bore Georgiana, she would have been very happy never to hear the name of Darcy again.
She crossed the pavement to the steps leading up to her aunt’s front door. As she did so, she happened to look up and saw Jane’s face at the window above.
She gave a huge sigh of relief. It was a most welcome sight! She felt lighter of heart just seeing her sister, and the world seemed a friendly place again. A smile crossed her tired and careworn face.
‘Oh, Jane, I am so glad you are here before me,’ she said, as she went into the house and removed her bonnet in the hall.
She embraced her sister, holding her tightly for longer than usual.
Jane pulled back, still holding Lizzy’s hands, and looked at her in surprise.
‘Why, Lizzy, whatever has happened? I saw you arriving in a private coach, instead of walking from the coaching inn as I had expected. Who did it belong to?’
‘Oh, Jane,’ said Elizabeth, as the two ladies went into the drawing-room. ‘What a lot I have to tell you!’
Chapter Four
‘I cannot believe it,’ said Jane.
She and Elizabeth were sitting in the drawing-room. Elizabeth had had time to recover from her strange day. She had removed her outdoor clothes and she had had a pot of tea, together with a light supper prepared by her aunt’s servant. She had very much needed the refreshment. The journey had been long, some eighty miles or thereabouts. It had taken most of the day, even in Mr Darcy’s superior carriage with the horses being frequently changed. They had eaten a hurried luncheon at one of the coaching inns but that had been Elizabeth’s only chance for food.
Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 1 Page 13