Her face still buried in her hands, Elizabeth whispered a muffled, “yes.” Darcy followed Bingley out of the room, trying not to feel like a schoolboy who was about to be paddled.
Bingley stalked down the hallway in complete silence. As they entered the study, Darcy tried a preemptive explanation. “Bingley, you do not – “
But Bingley’s low, level voice forestalled him. “How could you? She is under my roof! Under my protection!” Darcy thought he had never seen his ordinarily placid friend so furious. Bingley threw himself into the desk chair and glared at his friend. “What am I going to tell her father? What am I going to tell Jane? Good Lord!” He slapped the arm of the chair in frustration. “Damn, Darcy, I never thought you would do something like this!”
Bingley finally fell silent, frowning fiercely as Darcy sank into the facing chair.
“I am sorry this has caused you consternation—” Darcy began. Bingley made an angry gesture as if to respond, but Darcy forestalled him. “Damnation! Will you listen to me? We are married. Elizabeth and I are married.”
Bingley sat up so quickly that his arm inadvertently knocked some papers off his desk, but he spared them no notice. “Married?” He said incredulously.
Darcy nodded. “In France.”
“France?” Bingley echoed in a stunned tone. “You mean all this time you have been – ? Darcy merely nodded again, giving his friend time to assimilate the news. The other man was shaking his head in amazement. Darcy explained the circumstances of their marriage and why they had concealed it.
“I had been hoping I could produce Lydia and Wickham – preferably married – before explaining to Mr. Bennet that we married without his knowledge or consent,” Darcy finished up. “But we may not be able to wait much longer.”
“You are in +a deucedly awkward position.” Bingley shook his head slowly in sympathy. Then he laughed unexpectedly. “No wonder you were so certain she had not accepted an offer of marriage from Fenton!”
Darcy chuckled. “Yes, that was one thing I could be sure of in this whole situation.”
Bingley poured brandy for them both. “You are married,” Bingley shook his head in disbelief. “Before you left for Paris I did not even know you held any special regard for Elizabeth. Now I find you have beaten me to the altar.”
Darcy nodded knowingly. “Yes, I can hardly believe it myself.”
After the men left her room, Elizabeth took several breaths to recover her composure and remind herself that she and Darcy had done nothing wrong. She might feel like a misbehaving schoolgirl, but she was a married woman who was entitled to spend the night with her husband.
Feeling a little better, she climbed out of bed and donned her robe. She walked down the hall to Jane’s room, knocked lightly on the door, and then pushed it open. Jane was sitting up in bed, her head and shoulders propped on some pillows and her swollen ankle resting on another one. Although Jane’s face showed some strain and exhaustion, she did not seem to be in overwhelming pain. She put aside the book she was reading and regarded Elizabeth with chagrin.
“I am sorry, Lizzy,” her beautiful face was anxious. “I did not wish to disturb your sleep, but Charles was beside himself. He had left a maid to watch over me. Then he could not sleep, so he came to discover how I fared and she told him I was in pain. He wanted so much to be of use to me! So I told him that sometimes you made a poultice that eased Papa’s rheumatism. He insisted on rousing you to make it for me. But if you would rather sleep, you may do it in the morning.”
Elizabeth had to smile at this rather long, self-effacing speech. “Truly, I want to be of any comfort I can. I will make the poultice if that will help.”
“It does not hurt so very much, but I am having trouble sleeping. Perhaps if you could read to me a little, that would help.”
Elizabeth pulled a chair to her sister’s bedside and took her hand. “I will do whatever you desire. But first I believe I must tell you something.” As she had walked down the hall, Elizabeth had wondered about Darcy’s conversation with Bingley and realized that in all likelihood, Darcy would reveal the truth about their marriage. Elizabeth felt it only fair to divulge the same to Jane. Indeed, she had found it quite painful to conceal the truth from her closest sister. Although she felt an obligation to tell her father, she felt the most desire to confide in Jane and receive sisterly advice.
“What is that?” Jane’s eyes were wide and curious.
“I think I can help you forget about the pain in your ankle – at least for a little while,” Elizabeth smiled at her sister. “I wanted to tell you – That is – I – We—” Elizabeth stopped and took a breath. This was more difficult than she had anticipated, perhaps because she was anxious about Jane’s reaction. Then she realized that Jane’s face was furrowed with concern. “It is nothing bad,” she assured her sister. She took a deep breath and said the rest in a rush. “Mr. Darcy and I are married. We were married in France.”
Jane’s hands flew to her mouth as her jaw dropped open. She was struck dumb with surprise.
“I hope you are not too shocked,” Elizabeth went on. “But after I recovered from the illness, I felt that I did not want to wait….”
Jane nodded. “I remember that Mr. Darcy said you almost died,” she whispered.
“Yes. I – We – decided to become engaged and we knew it would be easier to travel if we were married, so—” Elizabeth’s words were halting as she gazed at Jane’s face. If Jane did not understand, she had little hope of explaining her actions to the rest of her family.
“I understand,” Jane said gently, patting Elizabeth’s hand. “It makes complete sense.”
Elizabeth felt tears prick her eyes. “You are too good to me. Not one word of reproach for marrying without you or for concealing the truth all this time?”
“How could I reproach you for following your heart? When I see you with Mr. Darcy, it is clear he is deeply in love with you. How could I begrudge you the same happiness I have with Charles?” Jane’s expression had regained its usual serenity.
Elizabeth had to wipe her eyes with a handkerchief. “My biggest regret was not having you there to share the joy with me. I wanted to tell you when I returned, but William and I had agreed to tell Papa first and—”
“I comprehend perfectly why you could not reveal all. But, I knew, Lizzy,” Jane smiled. “I knew something had happened between you and Mr. Darcy, although I thought it might be a secret engagement.”
“Were we so bad at concealing our affection?” Elizabeth asked with chagrin.
Jane shook her head gently. “I noticed since I know you so well. I am certain no one else was paying such close attention.”
“I hope you are right,” Elizabeth sighed. “Papa should be the first – well, among the first – to know. I know we shall have to tell him very soon. After tonight there will be two more in our confidence.”
“Two?”
“Oh, I forgot to explain what precipitated my revelation.” Elizabeth laughed, a little embarrassed. “When Bingley came to my room to fetch me, he found William there. He was very angry.”
“Oh no! Poor Charles.” Jane covered her mouth to stifle a smile. Then the two sisters burst into laughter and it was some time before they recovered their composure.
Jane’s eyes sparkle with a mischievous smile. “And, you know Lizzy, you were right. You did make me forget all about my ankle!”
The next morning they all gathered for a late breakfast. Darcy had already been for a ride and Elizabeth for a bracing walk around the Netherfield grounds, and, if they entered the house at the same time, there was no one present to notice. Bingley had spent the morning fussing at the staff to ensure Jane had all the pillows, blankets, and tasty morsels she might need. When she insisted on going downstairs for breakfast, he acquiesced, but only upon the condition that he would carry her. Laughing a little at the impropriety, Jane agreed.
He deposited Jane in a chair next to his sister, who sniffed a bit at his boisterousne
ss, but said nothing. Darcy regarded Miss Bingley closely for a moment, afraid that she had heard some of the nocturnal comings and goings the previous night, but her expression seemed much the same. He seated himself next to Elizabeth, a fact which seemed to frustrate Miss Bingley, who had arrived first and had hoped Darcy would be next to her. At a signal from Bingley, one of the serving men provided a full champagne flute for each guest. Miss Bingley looked askance at her brother. “Champagne for breakfast? Has the engagement muddled your head Charles?”
Bingley merely laughed and said, “I simply felt like celebrating. Jane’s ankle is improving and we are enjoying some of the finest company in England!” He raised his glass in a toast, but arched an eyebrow at Elizabeth and Darcy, who knew that his friend was toasting their marriage without revealing anything to his sister. Elizabeth smiled warmly at Bingley, appreciating the gesture.
Everyone fell to eating the fine repast, but they were soon interrupted by Bingley’s butler, who brought an express post to Darcy. Darcy scanned the sender’s address and raised his eyebrows. “Please excuse me for reading this at the table,” he addressed his host and hostess, “but it is a matter of some urgency.”
All eyes were on Darcy as he scanned the lines of the short missive. A stormy expression on his face, he folded it up again. Elizabeth knew such a mien meant the matter was quite serious. She touched his arm gently and asked, “Is it something very disturbing, William?” She heard Miss Bingley’s hiss of indrawn breath and realized she had unwittingly displayed too much familiarity. Their hostess observed Darcy, expecting him to rebuke Elizabeth.
Darcy, deep in thought, did not seem to notice Elizabeth’s slip. “No, I will tell you later.” Elizabeth suspected that the note had something to do with Lydia and Wickham, but could not ask more in front of Miss Bingley. Now that Jane and Bingley knew their secret, Miss Bingley’s presence was most awkward.
Shortly thereafter the breakfast party broke up, although Darcy and Bingley lingered to exchange some private words while Jane waited for her fiancé to carry her upstairs once more. Elizabeth left the room and found herself in the hallway with Miss Bingley, who turned to her with a completely false air of solicitude, “A word of advice, Eliza. Mr. Darcy is a very proper man. I have known him many years and he has never invited me to use his Christian name. Although he is too well mannered to say anything, I could tell that he was quite alarmed by your excessive familiarity.”
“Surely that is for Mr. Darcy to decide,” Elizabeth said with some asperity.
Some of Miss Bingley’s false amiability slid away. “I know you are trying to entice him by pretending a familiarity which does not exist, but let me assure you that such an approach will not succeed with Mr. Darcy.”
“How do you know it does not exist?” Elizabeth asked sweetly, attempting to conceal her anger.
Miss Bingley’s mouth fell open at this rather brazen question, but was saved the necessity of a reply by the arrival of the man in question. Darcy swooped out of the dining room and approached the two women. “Elizabeth!” He cried. “Just the person I was hoping to see. Would you take a turn with me in the garden? I must discuss the contents of this letter with you.”
Elizabeth took his arm and they swept out. She turned back to see Miss Bingley still standing in the hallway, paralyzed with shock and mouth agape.
Once they were outside, Elizabeth could no longer contain a smile, and as she gazed up at her husband he was grinning broadly. “That was very wicked!” She exclaimed. “Did you overhear what she was saying to me?”
“Yes, I admit it. I heard through the dining room door. It is excessively difficult not to eavesdrop when one hears one’s name mentioned. Once I understood what she was saying to you, it was even more difficult not to emerge and administer the chastisement she richly deserves. But I feared revealing too much.”
“The approach you chose had the benefit of being subtle yet effective,” Elizabeth observed, smiling. “And vastly more entertaining.”
“Not to mention satisfying.” He grinned, lengthening his stride to create more distance from the house.
They walked for a minute in silence, but Elizabeth could wait no longer. “Is the letter about Lydia?”
“Yes, it is from Mr. Scott, one of the investigators I hired. They have found Lydia.” Elizabeth regarded him with a mixture of anxiety and hope about what he would say next. “They are not married, but your sister appears unharmed.”
Elizabeth sagged under the combined weight of relief and fresh cause for concern. Darcy put his arm around her shoulders to support her. “What of Wickham?” She asked.
“My investigator did not find him and Lydia does not know where he is. They reached a coaching inn about a day’s ride from London. But Lydia says Wickham left one morning and did not return – that was several days ago.” Darcy guided her to a low stone bench and they sat.
Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand and tears came to her eyes. “Oh, poor Lydia! He truly had no intention of marrying her.”
“No, indeed,” Darcy agreed, handing Elizabeth his handkerchief. “Since Lydia had no money to pay for her room at the inn, she agreed to return to London with Mr. Scott. He has taken her to the Gardiners.”
Elizabeth dried her eyes with the handkerchief. “I am pleased she is unhurt. The Gardiners will be kind to her.”
Darcy nodded. “Lydia did give the investigator some ideas about where to seek Wickham, so they may find him soon enough.”
“But what shall induce him to marry Lydia?” Elizabeth was now twisting the handkerchief in her hands.
Darcy gazed over Bingley’s lovely gardens for a moment before answering. “It is not hard to work on Wickham,” he said finally. “All it takes is money.” Elizabeth felt an immediate sense of relief. Although she chafed at the unfairness of Darcy paying off Wickham, she was reassured by the thought that there was a potential resolution of the dilemma. “There is no possible way he could have known of our marriage,” Darcy continued. “But he could not have picked a better way to pursue his vendetta against me – unless, of course, he had eloped with you.” Darcy impulsively took her hands in his and kissed them both, as if hoping that his affection might help lift her spirits.
“There was no chance of that happening,” Elizabeth laughed. “I have more sense than Lydia. And I was never in love with him.”
Darcy’s gaze turned intent. “You cannot know how the thought of you with Wickham plagued me. Especially after I knew the lies he had told you.”
She shook her head. “I was blind to his lies; that is true. However, I would like to believe I would have discerned the true nature of his character eventually.”
“I know you would have.” Darcy’s strong reaction to Wickham seemed to fire his passion – his eyes practically smoldering as he regarded her. He drew her up off the bench and over to the shade of some small trees, near the garden’s wall and kissed her very thoroughly. Although they had been together the night before, Elizabeth felt she needed his kisses like a thirsty man needs water in a desert, wanting to drink deeper and deeper. All too soon it came to an end. Darcy scanned the area to ensure that they were not observed and returned them to the well-trodden path once again.
They resumed walking; the romantic interlude had soothed Elizabeth’s agitation somewhat. Darcy said grimly, “I must talk with your father today. He is likely to discover Lydia’s plight from the Gardiners and I can no longer conceal my part in the investigation.”
Elizabeth glanced at him with some concern. “You need not be so anxious. I am sure Papa will be grateful for the assistance.”
Darcy shook his head. “No man likes to be in another man’s debt. He is also likely to question me about my interest in this matter. He may not believe me if I say I am merely acting as a friend of the family.”
Elizabeth placed her hand on his. “Perhaps the time has come to tell him the truth.”
Darcy ran his free hand through his hair. “I fear that our behavior will r
esemble Lydia’s and Wickham’s too closely for your father’s comfort, and he will undoubtedly be angry that we have deceived him. I was hoping to commence my relationship with my father-in-law on a better footing.”
To his surprise, Elizabeth chuckled. “That may be too much to hope for under the circumstances. He will not be pleased no matter what.”
“I suppose,” Darcy sighed. “Hundreds of fathers in England would be overjoyed to find that I had married their daughter.”
Elizabeth shrugged eloquently. “You did not wish to marry a fortune hunter, sir. My father is not mercenary either. You must live with the attendant disadvantages.”
“Your sympathy is most heartwarming.” He said wryly. She merely laughed.
An hour later, Elizabeth and Darcy took Bingley’s coach to Longbourn for a visit. Bingley insisted that Jane remain at Netherfield to recuperate, so Elizabeth and her sister would stay there again that night.
When they arrived at Longbourn, Elizabeth went to find her mother and give a report of Jane’s condition and to collect clothing for the sisters during their continued stay at Netherfield. Darcy made his way to Mr. Bennet’s library.
Mr. Bennet greeted him with some surprise, but invited him to take a seat. After Darcy had done so, he saw that the older man was now regarding him suspiciously; he knew Mr. Bennet mistrusted his intentions regarding Elizabeth. He is expecting a request for Elizabeth’s hand – or at least courtship. Nothing less will satisfy him, Darcy thought with dismay. It was almost enough to make him wish he was in a position to make either request, but he would not have given up the last weeks for all the world.
Deciding that a straightforward approach was best, Darcy said without preamble, “I have found your daughter, Lydia. Or, rather, my investigators have found her and taken her to the Gardiners’ home in London. She is unharmed, but Wickham has abandoned her.”
Mr. Bennet was staring at him agog – then blinked rapidly several times in succession. It took a moment for him to collect his wits. “Am I to understand that you undertook to hire investigators to search for my daughter?”
The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 24