by Glenna Mason
“Why, yes, Mr. Darcy. I’m free,” Mary agreed.
“As are Jane and I,” Elizabeth said. She knew that Jane and Charles Bingley were attracted to one another. Elizabeth intended to take every opportunity to forward the match for her sister.
CHAPTER TWO
As the two rode their horses back to Netherfield around midnight that night, slithers of moonlight striping the fields around them, Darcy advised Bingley that he’d taken the liberty of inviting the three eldest Bennet sisters to dinner and an interlude of music the following evening.
Pulling out his pocket watch, he corrected the announcement. “Tonight actually,” Darcy said with a grin. “I know it was presumptuous of me, but you seemed quite enamored with Miss Bennet, so I assumed you would approve. In any case it’s too late to withdraw the invitation. The ladies have accepted.”
“Darcy, please understand that my house is yours while you visit, as Pemberley and its staff have always been solicitous of my every wish and command. Whims even,” Bingley chortled. “And if you had not asked the Bennet sisters for tomorrow—oops, tonight—I’d have doubtless extended an invitation myself sometime in the immediate future. And, yes, I am very interested in the very beautiful and supremely angelic Jane Bennet.”
“She does seem to have a most kindly nature and nature has been most kind to her.”
“Yes, beauty personified in appearance, charm and sweetness.”
“Now her sister, Miss Elizabeth, on the other hand, is more akin to a pride of tigresses than a chorus of angels. And as for Miss Mary, she is a challenge, but I believe she has distinct possibilities.”
“So Miss Mary has gained your attention then?”
“Only as a test to my bravado,” Darcy said, laughing. “I am not smitten by any Bennet lady and, if I were, Miss Mary would be far down the list. However, I dearly love a difficult endeavor. I intend to play Pygmalion and elicit Miss Mary’s charms and unleash them on Meryton and perhaps beyond.”
“What fun, Darcy. But you always seem to find pleasure in the most difficult task. I will eagerly await your results and grade them from A to Z.”
“Oh, my. Now I’m in for it. It’s a deal. Shall we shake on it? And how about a scale and a prize at the end of it? That will keep me actively pursuing the laurels. If I get an A to a D, you take me to Ascot this year, plus 50 pounds to bet. If I end up W to Z, the same prize, except I treat you.”
“Fine. But who decides? And there are a preponderance of letters between D and W.”
“We’ll both know soon enough. If I’m successful, the men will come calling.”
“Good. That’s a wage I’ll be happy to forfeit,” Bingley declared, shaking Darcy’s hand across the saddles.
“And Miss Elizabeth? Where does she fit in your scheme? You might lose her. She will think you favor Miss Mary. She might leave the field.”
“I doubt she cares one way or the other. However, a little rivalry might be just what she needs.”
Bingley frowned.
“I’m kidding, my friend,” Darcy said with a laugh. “At this point I have no real interest in Miss Elizabeth, in any case. However, who knows what the future might bring? Speaking of challenges, Miss Elizabeth will be a challenge to any man.”
“And, as you said, Darcy, you love a challenge.”
“I certainly do. That alone places her in the realm of possibility.”
*****
Darcy awoke, excited about the day ahead. He decided to take the short ride down to the village and wander through the shops. He might find some bauble as a gift for Georgiana, who loved surprises, or perhaps a treat for dinner tonight. Chocolates imported from Belgium or port from Portugal flashed through his mind. “On the other hand, I might discover that Meryton does not have anything of merit—Merit-town might be a faux name,” he jested to himself, just as he passed through the estate gates.
After he tied his stallion to the hitching post, Darcy started with a perusal of the book seller’s newest additions. Glancing through the showcase windows, he saw the street suddenly fill with men from the local militia, all dressed in fancy uniforms. “I guess Meryton is safe from Napoleon,” he said with a smile to the shop girl.
“I suppose so,” she answered unenthusiastically. This reaction disconcerted Darcy. He had always heard that the young ladies were thrilled by a man in a red coat, trimmed in gold braid.
“Only suppose so?”
“Some are nice; some are scoundrels.”
“Makes sense. Have you met a scoundrel personally?”
“Yes. Actually more than one.”
“Really?”
“See that threesome across the street.”
“Yes.”
“Any women with sense will avoid that trio.”
“Are men safe?” Darcy asked with a grin.
“As long as they keep their hands on their wallets.”
“Extraordinary!”
“Gamblers and card sharks.”
Darcy looked more closely at the soldiers in question. “Oh, no,” he said, with a grimace.
“I see that you understand.”
“Yes, I certainly do. My dear young lady, stay away from that tall one. He is an acquaintance of mine. And a more devilish rascal probably never roamed the streets of Meryton.”
Leaving the shop behind, Darcy boldly crossed the street. “What are you doing here, Wickham?” he asked brusquely.
“Why, Darcy, old man, what a wonder. What are you doing here?”
“Answer my question—now!”
“I’m stationed here with the militia. May I introduce you to my friends?”
“No. Stay away from me, George,” Darcy said, his tone scathing. “Look at me. Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“No-o.”
“Hey, Wickham, it’s the Bennet sisters,” a soldier in the group announced.
Darcy glanced down the street. Lydia and Kitty were headed their way.
“And leave all the Bennets totally alone.”
“I’ll not agree to that.”
“Yes, you will or else.”
Lydia pranced up. “Wickham and Denny! What a chance encounter. And Mr. Darcy too. Well. Well.”
Wickham said nothing. Denny and his other friend, apparently a sergeant according to his insignia, welcomed the two sisters. Darcy stood perfectly still, glaring at Wickham.
“Hello, Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia,” Darcy finally said. “How are things at Longbourn today?”
Kitty responded, “In quite an uproar. Mary, Jane and Elizabeth have Hill and the maids running here and there, getting dresses ready for their evening at Netherfield. Mama is in a tizzy. She’s actually the cause of the uproar. My sisters keep telling her that their dresses are satisfactory, but Mama will have none of it.”
“I notice you didn’t invite Kitty and me,” Lydia snidely observed. “Wickham, you look so handsome in your uniform.”
“I have duty,” Wickham abruptly stated. Without further comment he turned and left.
“You didn’t notify us. Are we on duty too?” Denny called after the retreating Wickham. The latter declined to answer, continuing away in a hurry.
“That was strange,” the sergeant commented. “Why did he join us, if he had to be back to the camp so soon?”
“Who knows with Wickham?” Denny retorted, obviously disgusted.
“Mr. Denny, how long has Wickham been in the militia?”
“He was commissioned a couple of weeks ago.”
“And, Miss Kitty, you met Lt. Wickham . . . “ Darcy let the query hang.
“Last week. My Aunt Phillips had a soiree. She invited several of the officers, including Lt. Denny. He brought Lt. Wickham.”
Darcy bowed to the Bennet girls and went straight to his horse. He no longer felt like looking for a gift in Meryton. Wickham was here. His morning was spoiled.
*****
With no packages now to consider, Darcy decided to take a morning gallop across the fields. The day was clear and
bright with a slight, cool breeze, perfect for a romp on his coal black stallion, Midnight on the Moors. As he rode across the downs, Darcy reflected on the encounter with Wickham. Overall Darcy was pleased. Wickham had started out his normal confident self, but had given in to Darcy’s threats more quickly than ever before. “I guess he knows I am serious now,” Darcy said to Midnight.
Then he reconsidered. “What is up?” Suddenly Darcy brooded, “It is unlike Wickham to be so easily appeased. Why this time?” Darcy began to wonder if Wickham might be in the throes of some scheme, which would be thwarted, if Darcy exposed his true character to the neighborhood and the officers of the militia. Now that Darcy considered that potentiality, he was displeased that Wickham had been so easily dissuaded. Did he have a plot under way that Darcy could disintegrate with the right word to the right person? But what? To whom?
“Think, man, think,” Darcy berated himself. “I hope he isn’t after one of the Bennet sisters? He didn’t like being told to leave them alone. They’d have to have a substantial dowry. Wickham hopes to capture a wealthy wife to secure his future.” Darcy abandoned that idea. He doubted that with five daughters, Mr. Bennet had the twenty thousand pound dowry, essential to Wickham.
Having dismissed the Bennet sisters’ idea, Darcy gave up on the self-imposed inquiry. Wickham was probably hoping to acquire extra money by gambling with his fellow officers and wanted to keep his image untarnished. “He did relent and leave without confrontation. I guess he didn’t want me giving Denny and company any details of his past.”
Just ahead Darcy noticed a stream running across the fields. “Is that the stream?” Darcy wondered, remembering Kitty’s revelation about Elizabeth. “I think I’ll just ride alongside it for a while.” He touched Midnight with his riding crop and the two soon soared over the intervening fence in order to follow the path of the meandering brook.
Eventually Darcy realized that, while charming, the ride beside the creek was apparently an exercise in futility. “No ankles in sight so far, Midnight,” Darcy, who often had an ongoing conversation with his horse, noted. So Darcy pulled to a halt under a sweeping oak tree. “Let’s have a drink as long as we’re here,” he told Midnight. He slipped from the saddle and swooped up a handful for himself, while the stallion lowered his head to the stream.
Darcy leaned against the oak. His thoughts inadvertently turned to the evening before and the neighborhood dance at the assembly hall. He was actually startled at the memory. “I’ve never revisited any dance before. Why this one?”
Of course he knew the answer. The trouble he had so thoughtlessly created at the dance last night had caused him a restless sleep. His insult of Elizabeth Bennet and his only partial success at setting things right lingered on the fringes of his psyche. “But why? Why do I care?”
Then Darcy dismissed the conundrum with “I was brought up to be a gentleman. Gentlemen do not insult ladies.”
Darcy gathered up the reins and prepared to mount Midnight. “Perhaps I can complete my restoration to gentleman extraordinaire by being especially gent-ile tonight,” Darcy quipped aloud to his horse, laughing and patting his neck. Midnight turned his head in Darcy’s direction. “Yes, I know. You think I’m a little light in the brain this morning,” Darcy said, swinging his leg over the horse’s back. “Let’s go, boy. I don’t think I’ll have any pretty ankles materializing in my life today. And Bingley should be up and at the breakfast table by now.”
*****
As he and Midnight clattered onto the brick courtyard of the Netherfield stables, Darcy pondered whether to mention Wickham to Bingley. “It will aggrieve him, but then I’m confident Wickham will somehow insinuate himself into our lives in the near future. Charles may as well be prepared.”
Darcy decided to check the breakfast room before going upstairs to bathe and change out of his riding jodhpurs. Sure enough Bingley was breaking his fast.
“Darcy, good morning. Won’t you join me?”
“I’d like nothing better.”
“The fruit compote is especially delicious.”
“I have some disconcerting news,” Darcy said, scooping up a serving of eggs.
“Oh?”
“George Wickham is in Meryton.”
“For Lord’s Sake!”
“More likely ‘For Satan’s Sake’ I imagine.”
“Here I lease this lovely estate three hours from London, and for a whole year. And what happens post haste—your nemesis shows up before the first month is out. How can I hope to return your hospitality with such a scoundrel in our midst?”
“I’ve threatened Wickham to a duel, if he deigns to bother me.”
“Already?”
“Well, in so many words. I didn’t hit him with a gauntlet,” Darcy teased. “Not yet anyway.”
“Good.”
“I preferred to place Wickham in a state of mind whereby he thinks I might employ deadly force, placing him in supreme jeopardy, at a moment’s notice. Otherwise he will constantly maneuver to outwit us some way or the other, which will in turn disturb our peace at this charming country estate.”
“Yes, he is devious.”
“And calculating. I meant the threat by the way. I’d like nothing better than to call Wickham out. And what’s more he knows it.”
“Georgiana?”
“Certainly. As you remember, I couldn’t challenge him to a duel over his attempt to elope with Georgiana. The news would have spread across the ton and devastated her.”
“Probably.”
“We both apprehend that the gossips relish their spite.”
“They certainly do.”
“And Georgiana is quite fragile right now. After all, she perceived herself in love with Wickham.”
“And had her potential elopement been exposed . . . “
“ . . . with the ton’s normal vicious undertones . . . “
“ . . . the scandal . . . ”
“ . . . could have compromised her future prospects.”
“Yes.”
“Besides you and Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs. Younge, no one, but we three principals, knows of the proposed elopement. I mean to keep it that way.”
“I understood the gravity of the situation and appreciated your decision to confide in me.”
“I needed your strong friendship and still do.”
“How do you propose we handle the current Meryton situation?” Bingley asked.
“I say we carry on as if Wickham is invisible—at least until he intrudes upon our sight again.”
“Sabers or pistols?” Bingley joked.
“Whichever he chooses. As you know I am well-schooled in both,” Darcy answered soberly.
Realizing that his friend was serious, Bingley offered, “I’ll be your second of course.”
“I doubt it will come to that. Wickham is a master at preserving his own skin. I’d be willing to bet he won’t cross me again.”
“Stakes?”
“One of us throws a ball and invites the Bennet ladies.”
“Whoever loses I presume.”
“Well, of course.”
“You’re on. I should hold a ball at Netherfield in any case.”
They both laughed out loud, obviously assuming that Bingley would lose. Darcy should have known better with his innate prescience at foretelling the future.
*****
When they left the breakfast room, Bingley requested that Darcy ride out with him to survey the estate and advise him on what improvements Netherfield might need to make his twelve month sojourn more pleasant.
“Perfect timing, Charles. I already smell like a horse. Let’s go.”
“Go refresh. I’ll meet you in the stable yard in ten minutes.”
Darcy’s luck rose on this ride across the fields. As soon as the gentlemen reached the top of the second hill and viewed the valley below, they spied Elizabeth, her skirt hiked up, wading in the rivulets below.
“My, what a fortuitous ride,” Darcy said with a grin. �
�Shall we?”
“We shall,” Bingley replied, kicking his mount into a gallop for the descent toward the creek.
Elizabeth heard the speeding horses approach, lifting her hand to shade her eyes for a better perspective. A smile spread across her face.
“Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy,” she greeted, without the slightest touch of chagrin, even though her ankles were in full sight and her hem dripping wet. “Care to join me? The water is perfect this time of year, but soon it will be too chilly.”
“If I take these boots off, I’ll have to go home barefoot. It takes two of us to get them on,” Darcy said, a smile from ear to ear, dimples twinkling.
“How are the other Bennet ladies?” Bingley asked. Elizabeth knew whom he meant, and so she answered, “Jane is adding lace to her gown for tonight. She’s very talented in highlighting and altering her dresses. No reason for me to stay home. I’m afraid that my sewing acumen is without parallel.”
“Oh?’
“That’s on the lower range of the scale, Mr. Bingley.”
“Oh, I see!” Bingley laughed. “Same spot as mine.”
The two men alighted from their horses. Elizabeth stepped out of the water and dropped her skirt . . . much to Darcy’s regret.
“Can I meet you here again one day, Miss Elizabeth—in better shoes for stripping of course.”
“I don’t see why not. But we’d require a chaperon,” Elizabeth replied, and, looking at Bingley, added, “I can bring Jane. She’d enjoy the exercise.”
“Or Miss Mary,” Darcy said, remembering his bet.
“If you bring Miss Bennet, let me know,” Bingley declared, reaching down to test the temperature of the water.
“Fine. Then we’ll definitely want Mary also,” Elizabeth said, pleased that they approved of her wading exercise.
“Perfect solution. How about tomorrow at ten?”
“Are you always so organized and prompt, Mr. Darcy?”
“More often than not when a beautiful woman is involved.”
“Jane?”