by Head, Gail
“Yes, I do,” he reluctantly forced the words out.
“This is unbelievable!” Bingley fell back into his chair in amazement. “After all you said against me wanting to marry Jane…how unsuitable the match was…and now you are in love with her sister! How can that be?”
“It has not been a conscious choice, believe me. Every sense of reason argued against it and I have tried for months to repress my feelings, but – ”
“Months!? Darcy, are you telling me you have loved her for months? How? Where?” Bingley struggled to comprehend the extent of the revelation. “My word! I suppose I should have guessed something after her stay here, but I truly saw no signs of attachment at all. And when you danced with her at the ball, you actually…but you always seemed so severe, and her manner toward you was not …my word, from what I could see, you two did not get on well at all! I must say you both did a splendid job of hiding it!”
Darcy winced at the realization that even Bingley had seen the truth. Had he been the only one in the entire world blind to Elizabeth's dislike of him?
“For her part, there was nothing to hide. I mistook her meaning utterly and completely.” Darcy tried to ignore the pang of regret his words aroused. “Not long ago, she informed me, in the most painful way imaginable, that she has never returned the sentiment – not in the least.”
“In Kent,” Bingley said quietly.
“In Kent,” Darcy nodded. “After all my struggles to forget her, you can well imagine my dismay in finding her at Rosings Park. The almost daily reminder was excruciating. When I finally realized I could not overcome my attraction, I went to her, fully expecting to be accepted; but found instead a wellspring of bitterness and resentment. Not only did she champion Wickham's claim of abuse at my hands, she had discovered my unforgivable role in separating you from her sister. She was exceedingly clear in her opinion of me, and it was not flattering.”
“That would explain your certainty of Jane's feelings for me. And I thought you – ”
“It is no less than I deserved, given my interference,” replied Darcy bitterly.
“But surely there is hope? You would not be pursuing this scheme if there were not?”
“No, my friend. I assure you that the opinion she expressed, and the manner in which she expressed it, gave me no hope whatsoever. I have no expectation. My only purpose here is to remedy what I can for her and her family, and to assist you in gaining Miss Bennet's trust and confidence.”
“I am sorry for your disappointment; but pray, do not lose heart. Who is to say what will happen?”
Darcy shook his head slowly. “My purpose is as I said and nothing more. This muddled affair is strange at best, and whether the circumstances show themselves to be fair or foul, I am certain if Miss Elizabeth welcomes my efforts at all, it will be for her sister's sake and nothing more.”
“I refuse to consider such a bleak outlook, Darcy. Did you not say yourself that one cannot give up, especially at the very moment one is most needed? Things will come right, you shall see.”
“Ever the optimist, I see,” observed Darcy, giving up the smallest of smiles. “It is a true friend, indeed, who can return the favor of good advice without rubbing salt in the wound. I thank you, Bingley.”
“I am glad to be of some service to you at last. It is a rare occasion and I am happy for it. We shall do what we can for the Miss Bennets and hope that it is enough to win their hearts. At the very least, we shall solve the mystery, bring Miss Elizabeth home, and put to rest any whisper of scandal before it ever begins!”
Chapter 13
Lucas Lodge shone with the light of a hundred candles, adding to the warmth of the summer evening. Taking a cooling sip from his glass, Darcy was a little surprised to see Bingley standing alone in the doorway, his eagerness for conversation readily apparent. Even from across the room, Bingley's expression conveyed a clear message that something of importance had occurred.
Unfortunately, Darcy was stuck in conversation with Mrs. Goulding, a stout, talkative woman with much to say about the accomplishments, beauty, and deportment of her only daughter. “Not like some of the young ladies in the neighborhood,” she was saying, looking him over much like a tabby eyeing a bowl of fresh cream. “My Marianne is so well-mannered, and so very accomplished! Did she not play beautifully tonight, Mr. Darcy?”
Held in place by an earnest effort to correct his past offenses in Hertfordshire, it took Darcy a few moments to politely extract himself from the conversation. Once he did so, he moved quickly in Bingley's direction, his curiosity aroused by the anxious aspect of his friend's smile.
“I am sorry for interrupting your commendable efforts to be social, Darcy, but I did not think this could wait.”
“A welcome interruption, my friend,” replied Darcy with a small smile. “While I am discovering country society to be as agreeable as any other, I must still assert that a certain lack of variety is to be found in the conversation of all mothers with daughters of marriageable age.”
Bingley chuckled. “I am afraid that is a burden you must bear until you please one such mother by courting her daughter, thereby destroying the hopes of all the rest.”
“Speaking of courting, what takes you from Miss Bennet's side? What is it that cannot wait?”
“Miss Bennet has remembered something that may help us. I should like you to come and hear what she has to say.”
“Has it to do with Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy struggled to temper his eagerness.
“It does; but I believe you should prepare yourself, for I do not think it will please you altogether.”
“Any new information will make me happy. We have had little enough so far. Please, lead the way.”
The two men made their way back to the main drawing room where Jane was waiting, her expression calm and composed. Darcy approached her with the hope that her news would be good in spite of Bingley's ominous prediction.
“Miss Bennet, I understand you have something new regarding your sister?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy. I remembered something Lizzy did…” Jane hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. “Now that you are here, I begin to feel a little foolish. Perhaps it means nothing; but with so little information as we now have, I suppose anything might help.”
“We can only determine its usefulness if you tell me,” Darcy coaxed lightly.
“Oh, yes – forgive me. Well, I was talking with Mr. Bingley and happened to look up just as my sister, Kitty, was coming in from the terrace with Mr. Dermott, one of my Uncle Phillip's law clerks. Kitty sometimes reminds me of Lizzy at first glance, so it brought Lizzy to mind as a matter of course. But it was only when Mr. Dermott whispered something to Kitty that I remembered an identical scene only a few days before Lizzy went away. I saw her come through those same doors, as Kitty did, only Lizzy was with Mr. Wickham.”
Darcy's reaction was so immediate, he could not conceal the violent response. “Wickham!? Are you certain?”
“Quite certain.” Jane's eyes went to Bingley's in silent alarm as she cautiously continued. “With the militia gone to Brighton, I had quite forgotten about it.”
Lost in bitter disappointment, Darcy did not hear anything beyond her affirmation. It was clear he had failed to change Elizabeth's opinion of Wickham. Their being seen together was evidence of that. He castigated himself for the anger that had permeated the words of his letter. If he had couched his censure in more temperate terms, would she have been more willing to believe his disclosure of Wickham's duplicity? The notion of Elizabeth welcoming the company of a rake such as George Wickham was nearly too painful to bear.
Drawing a deep breath, he braced himself for answers he did not want to hear, and pursued their only clue. “Was she often in company with Mr. Wickham, then?”
“Not at all. She did enjoy his company for a while, but after her return from Kent, she seemed eager to find fault with everything he did. Now that you mention it, she was very little in his company of late, if at all. I believe she
was trying to avoid him, but I cannot say what he did to offend her, nor why she looked so distressed that night.”
The relief that washed over Darcy was so profound that it took several breaths before his mind caught up to Jane's final words. “Distressed? You say she looked distressed?”
“Yes, but only for a moment. I remember seeing them come back into the room together. He seemed quite amiable, but I could tell Lizzy was not at all pleased; in fact, she looked rather annoyed. And then he whispered something in Lizzy's ear, and she became even more upset. Mr. Wickham walked away after that. When I caught her attention to see if everything was all right, she only looked at me as if to say that Mr. Wickham was being ridiculous. Do you think it means anything?”
“I believe the exchange you witnessed between your sister and Mr. Wickham means a great deal, Miss Bennet,” Darcy's voice was ominously quiet. “I do not wish to alarm you, but George Wickham is no gentleman.”
“Surely he would not harm Miss Elizabeth – and at a dinner party yet?” Bingley was incredulous.
“Except for those few moments, Lizzy seemed quite herself. I think if he had actually done something, she would have told me right away,” Jane offered. “Now that I think of it, though, there must have been more than she let on; but it was so late when we returned to Longbourn that we did not talk that night, and the next morning, she was out walking before I had a chance to speak with her.”
“She walked out early after such a late night?” Darcy examined the possibilities of this new information.
“Yes, but that is not unusual for Lizzy. She nearly always walks in the early morning if the weather does not keep her indoors. She enjoys it very much and I believe it lifts her spirits. Only this time, she seemed more agitated than revived when she returned. She hardly said two words and went straight to her room.”
“Did she give a reason?” asked Darcy.
“No, she begged to be let alone at the time and I was called away. Then Father announced Lizzy's plans to travel for the summer and it was all forgot in the excitement.” Jane was visibly disturbed. “None of it seemed out of the ordinary at the time, but now it all seems so very odd!”
“It does seem as if something is not quite right,” Bingley concurred, “especially where Mr. Wickham is concerned. Do you not think so, Darcy?”
“Given my experience with the man, I am convinced he is involved in some way. In fact, it is very likely we will find him at the bottom of this whole affair, and I believe it began with whatever transpired on the terrace.”
His disturbing conclusion was too much for Jane, who paled visibly. Bingley quickly stepped in, offering his arm for support, which she gratefully took.
“Mr. Wickham and Lizzy?!” she whispered faintly. “What is to be done?”
“We will do everything possible,” Bingley assured her, covering her hand with his own, “and we shall not rest until Miss Elizabeth is found.”
“Everything shall be put to rights soon enough,” added Darcy encouragingly. “We now have a solid direction and I know how to deal with Mr. Wickham.” His voice was steady and strong, but his optimism could not dispel the deep sadness in Jane's eyes nor could it erase the turbulence in his own. His private look to Bingley reflected a grave concern that cast a heavy shroud of worry over them all for the rest of the evening.
At length, the gathering came to an end and they parted company, Bingley once again assuring Jane that all would be well.
As the gentlemen made their way to Netherfield, the waning moon cast a feeble light on their somber mood. Bingley and Darcy rode slowly side by side in dismal silence. Bingley had long lost any idea of what to say and Darcy was too engrossed in bitter reflection to notice.
All at once, the silence was shattered when Darcy's anger exploded into the night air, sending the horses skittering sideways in alarm.
“If anything has happened to her, I shall never forgive myself!” he cried. “I should have taken care of Wickham when I had the chance!”
“It cannot be as bad as that, can it? Surely Miss Elizabeth has more sense than to place herself in the hands of such a man? And it is not even certain that is what happened.”
“You must trust me on this, Charles. I know Wickham is connected to her disappearance in some way. As for her not placing herself in his hands, you do not know him as I do. You will remember how very good he was at convincing everyone to fall in love with him last year, and he would certainly use her generous nature to insinuate himself. The fact that he was seen with her shortly before her sudden departure means something, I am certain of it. I would give a king's ransom to know what happened on that terrace and what he said to her when they returned!”
Bingley sighed in the dark. “I think the answers will have to wait until we find her, though I do wonder at his reasons for such behavior.”
“Financial reasons, you can be sure. I know Wickham. His greedy nature would not permit him to exert any great effort without a promise of financial gain – something Miss Elizabeth cannot offer. The Bennets have no great fortune, nothing of any consequence to tempt him. That is what I cannot understand. Why her?”
Bingley had no answer and silence descended once again as the two men came within sight of Netherfield. For Darcy, the question continued to hammer mercilessly in his mind, driving a terrible foreboding deep into his heart. If Elizabeth was indeed under Wickham's influence, and far from the protection of her friends and family, then finding her was now a matter of the very greatest urgency. He could only pray that he was not too late!
* * * *
Pushing his unfinished plate away with a sharp thrust, Darcy dropped his head back against the chair and stared at the open sea shimmering outside his window. He had little appetite for food and even less for this unexpected delay.
Four days earlier, he had arrived in Brighton ready to force a confession from Wickham's own lips, but it was with bitter disappointment that he found the man gone. The entire regiment was gone – called out on maneuvers. It was not known exactly when they would return, and as Darcy had no acquaintance in Brighton aside from Colonel Forster, he had been forced to employ other means of gathering the information he sought. He knew there was a connection between Wickham and Elizabeth's mysterious absence – he just couldn't find it.
A low growl of self-reproach rumbled in Darcy's chest. His precipitous departure from Hertfordshire without first making the proper inquiries was a mistake. He had allowed his anxiety for Elizabeth to cloud his judgment; but he could not afford another miscalculation, no matter how slight, if he was to outwit Wickham.
Desperately needing a focus for his tortured thoughts, Darcy retrieved a paper from the stack of documents lying on the table and re-examined his notes for the third time in as many days. So intent on finding something new in the information he had gathered on Wickham, he barely heard the light knock above the constant, rhythmic crashing of the waves outside.
“Come,” Darcy answered, dropping his notes back onto the pile. His face registered a mild surprise as Denham entered the room, returning much sooner than expected. The surprise quickly turned to satisfaction, however, as an almost imperceptible change in the valet's naturally impassive expression told him there was some success at last.
“I see you have something for me,” Darcy smiled expectantly.
“Yes, sir. I have just returned from the Scarlet Feather, one of the local establishments. At first I thought to only stop in for a drink and ask a few questions. I was regarded with a bit of suspicion at first – me not being a soldier and all - but I had the feeling there was information to be had, and so I decided to take more refreshment. After I ordered a three course, they warmed right up. As the meal required several trips to my table, I was able to strike up a conversation with the serving girl. Her name is Millie and, with the help of a few coins, she had an interesting tale to tell.”
“Excellent! What is it?”
“First, she was able to tell me that the regiment is expected to
return the day after tomorrow.”
“Two days! I am to remain in this useless state for another two days?” Darcy protested. “Well, I shall bide my time for now, but I will not waste another minute once he is back! What else did this Millie have to say?”
“She tells me she is well-acquainted with Lieutenant Wickham and his companions. They are regulars to the establishment, every Wednesday and Saturday night when their presence is not required elsewhere. She remembers him in particular because when the regiment first arrived, he proved to be a very charming officer full of empty promises and empty pockets. She was left to pay his bill out of her earnings more than once.”
“Unfortunate for the girl, but nothing new for Wickham,” Darcy snorted in contempt.
“That is just it, sir. Things are quite different now. He pays his bill in full – every time – and even buys a round for all on occasion. He tips quite generously as well.”
“Is that so? I wonder how he came to be so generous on an officer's pay?”
“That I do not know. After the girl told me that much, she looked to think the better of it and had nothing more to offer – even when I hinted at a larger tip. I am sorry, sir, but I couldn't get another word out of her.” Denham produced the remainder of the coins Darcy had given him that morning for his foray into town and placed them on the table.
“You have done well enough, Denham. I thank you. At least I have a few more pieces to this infernal puzzle.”
“Very good, sir,” Denham replied just as another knock sounded on the door. He opened it to find one of the inn's menservants holding an express letter addressed to Mr. Darcy. Taking it from him with a “thank you” and closing the door, the valet silently placed it on the table next to the coins.
Seeing Georgiana's graceful hand flowing across the face of the letter, Darcy took it up with great curiosity. Why would she be writing him now when she knew he had planned to return within the week? And it was sent express – it could not be anything good. Breaking the Darcy seal made by a smaller version of his own signet, he read the contents with growing concern: