Darcy and the Wrong Miss Bennet

by Jane Grix

  Bingley nodded. “Very well.”

  Miss Bingley said, “I don’t look forward to spending time with Mrs. Bennet, but Miss Bennet is a sweet girl and I think the level of our friendship deserves recognition.”

  Mrs. Hurst said, “That is the trouble with families. So often one likes only one member and is forced by politeness and proximity to endure the presence of everyone else.”

  Miss Bingley agreed.

  Darcy was of a similar mind. Bingley was one of his closest friends, but he would be happier if he never had to speak with Miss Bingley and the Hursts again.

  Mr. Bingley said staunchly, “I see nothing wrong with Mrs. Bennet.”

  Love has made you blind, Darcy thought.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Mr. Bingley and his sisters did not stay long when they delivered their personal invitation to the ball, but Mrs. Bennet considered it a compliment to Jane that they had taken the effort to visit instead of merely sending a card. “Mark my words,” she said after they left. “Jane will be engaged before the new year.”

  Lydia twirled around the drawing room saying that she would dance every dance with Mr. Wickham.

  Mary said, “You cannot. Mama says that unless you are engaged, you may not dance more than two dances with the same gentleman.”

  “Oh, pooh,” Lydia said. “No one notices all that during a ball.”

  “If you dance every dance with Mr. Wickham, it will be noticed,” Elizabeth said dryly. And besides that, she wanted a few dances with Mr. Wickham herself.

  Mrs. Bennet said, “You must be careful, Lydia. As much as I want you to enjoy yourself, I don’t want everyone to gossip.”

  Mr. Collins said, “Cousin Lydia, I hope that you will save at least one dance for me. I hope to be honoured the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening.”

  Lydia made a face, but after Mrs. Bennet’s prompting, she agreed with ill grace that yes, Mr. Collins could have one dance. “But not the supper dance.”

  “Thank you,” Mr. Collins said formally and then turned to Elizabeth. “I am hoping to share the supper dance with you, Miss Elizabeth.”

  By reserving the supper dance, he would be her partner at the meal as well, something she wished to avoid. She said quickly, “I think it is best to wait until the night of the ball itself to make plans.”

  Mr. Collins sputtered, not knowing how to handle her rejection. “But you will dance with me,” he persisted.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth agreed. She then tried to change the subject by asking Lydia what dress she wanted to wear. Mr. Collins grew tired of their talk about laces, ribbons and shoe roses and went to find Mr. Bennet in his library.

  The next few days it rained, preventing anyone from walking to Meryton so there were no visits, no officers, no news to entertain them. Mary practised on the pianoforte and Kitty and Lydia played numerous games of cards. Mr. Collins read out loud from Fordyce’s Sermons and Elizabeth spent time in her bedroom reading Amelia.

  On the day before the ball, Elizabeth came downstairs to speak to Jane, who seemed surprised to see her. “Oh,” Jane said. “I thought you went walking.”

  “In this rain?”

  “Yes, for you had an umbrella, but I suppose now that it must have been Lydia I saw.”

  Elizabeth frowned. Lydia rarely took solitary walks and certainly never in such weather. She made a point of watching for her twin’s return and found her slipping into the house from the kitchen door an hour later.

  Mrs. Hill helped Lydia with her coat and wet bonnet strings, saying, “Miss Elizabeth, be sure to change into a dry dress. I don’t want you to catch a cold like Miss Jane.”

  “I will,” Lydia said docilely, then startled when she saw Elizabeth watching her. A guilty look crossed her face.

  Elizabeth did not want to air her grievances in front of their housekeeper, so she took Lydia’s arm in hers and said, “Come, Lizzy. I think we need to talk.”

  Lydia accompanied her upstairs to her bedroom. Once the door was closed, Elizabeth said, “What sort of game are you playing?”

  Lydia shrugged. “Does it matter if Hill thinks you took a walk instead of me?”

  “Not particularly, but you know I don’t like it when you pretend to be me.”

  Lydia said, “I don’t know why you care. It’s not as if I don’t tell everyone eventually. It is just a game. A joke.”

  “I don’t like it,” Elizabeth repeated. “I never pretend to be you.”

  “That is because you lack imagination.”

  Elizabeth knew that she could easily pretend to be Lydia, but she never wanted to. She continued, “And what could possibly be the advantage of pretending to be me taking a walk in the rain?” Lydia did not answer her, and Elizabeth guessed, “You didn’t want anyone to notice.”

  Lydia said, “It doesn’t matter. I’m home now and no one will care.”

  Elizabeth eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Where did you walk?”

  “Here and there.”

  “Were you meeting someone?”

  Lydia said quickly, “No, of course not,” and Elizabeth suspected that she was lying. When Lydia was fifteen, she had met secretly with one of their tenant farmer’s handsome sons until their father found the guilty pair one day in the barn. Lydia promised that they had done nothing more than talk, and the matter was quickly hushed up for neither of them were in a position to marry. The son was sent away to London to learn a trade and the matter was forgotten.

  Mr. Bennet did not tell Mrs. Bennet for he knew she could not keep a secret, but he had told Elizabeth to keep an eye on her twin sister. “You may look alike, but you are wiser than Lydia. Try to set an example for her.”

  Elizabeth thought it unfair that her father expected her to be Lydia’s keeper, but if Lydia was going to pretend to be her, she wanted her behaviour to be circumspect so it wouldn’t reflect badly on herself. Elizabeth said, “Tell me the truth, Lydia.”

  “Promise you won’t tell Father.”

  “I can’t promise that. Especially not if you are doing something dangerous.”

  Lydia scoffed. “It is not dangerous to fall in love.”

  Lydia thought she was in love? Elizabeth groaned. “Please tell me you are not meeting Mr. Wickham.”

  Lydia looked guilty again and said, “He loves me, Lizzy.”

  “If he truly loves you, he would speak to Father and ask for your hand in marriage – not sneak about in the woods like a thief.”

  Lydia said, “You are jealous because he loves me rather than you.”

  Elizabeth knew there was some truth to her words. She was offended to think that such a charming young man preferred her silly sister to herself. She said, “Has he kissed you?”

  “Once.”

  Elizabeth raised one eyebrow. “Only once? How many times have you met with him privately?”

  “Twice now,” Lydia admitted.

  Elizabeth did not want to doubt her sister’s morals, but she had to ask, “Has he taken other liberties?”

  Lydia acted as if she were offended. “Whatever do you mean, Lizzy? Mr. Wickham is an officer and a gentleman.”

  Elizabeth said, “I just don’t want you to have a child.”

  Lydia said, “Don’t worry. I won’t be so foolish. Wickham is going to marry me.”

  Elizabeth had never heard Lydia so determined. She said, “I know you want to marry, but this is not the proper way to find a husband.”

  “I love him.”

  “Love? You hardly know the man.”

  “I know that I love him,” she persisted. “I think I fell in love with him the first day we met.”

  “Love will not pay the bills,” Elizabeth said simply. “You must be wise, Lydia. Is Mr. Wickham capable of supporting a wife?”

  “He has prospects,” Lydia assured her. “And if Mr. Darcy hadn’t taken away his living. . .”

  “He would be a clergyman in Derbyshire, and you would have never met him,” Elizabeth supplied.

&n
bsp; Lydia said, “Wickham told me everything about that. He said that he believes Mr. Darcy is his half-brother and that’s why Darcy hates him.”

  “Good heavens. Is that true?” Elizabeth thought of both men – they were of a similar height and colouring, she realized. But were they half-brothers?

  Lydia nodded. “Wickham said that Mr. Darcy Senior did not love his wife, he loved his mother instead. Don’t you think that is romantic?”

  “If it is the truth, I think it is wicked,” Elizabeth said sharply. “A gentleman should not seduce his steward’s wife. But at this moment, I am more concerned that Mr. Wickham might be seducing you.”

  Lydia said petulantly, “If Jane were secretly meeting Bingley, no one would complain.”

  “Mr. Bingley would not do anything to harm Jane’s reputation.”

  “And Mr. Wickham will not harm mine, as long as you don’t tell anyone.”

  Elizabeth said, “I’m afraid I must tell Father.”

  “Oh Lizzy, no,” Lydia cried and wrung her hands. “You can’t. Not today. If you do, he won’t let me go to the ball tomorrow. And I must go.”

  “To see Wickham, I presume.”

  “Yes. He promised me the first two dances and he said he would talk to Father, asking to call on him in the morning.” Her words came out in a rapid tumble.

  Elizabeth hesitated. If what Lydia said was true, would another day or so matter? “Has he asked you to marry him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he said he would talk to Father?”

  “Yes.”

  Elizabeth did not know whether she should believe Lydia who had a habit of telling others what they wished to hear. But Lydia was still her sister and she seemed sincere. Elizabeth said finally, “Very well. I won’t talk to Father yet, but you must promise me that you will have no more secret meetings.”

  Lydia nodded. “I promise.”

  Elizabeth decided that she would watch Lydia closely over the next few days. And after the ball, she would decide if she needed to speak to her father about Lydia.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Upon entering the drawing room at Netherfield, Elizabeth looked in vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled. “I don’t think he is here,” she said quietly to Lydia. They were both wearing rose-coloured gowns with blonde lace at their décolletage. Elizabeth had considered wearing a necklace again but had not wanted to upset Lydia, so she had left it at home. She said, “I wonder if Mr. Bingley did not invite Mr. Wickham at Mr. Darcy’s request.”

  Lydia was not concerned. “No. I know he was invited, and he promised he would be here. Perhaps he is late.”

  But when he did not appear for another fifteen minutes, Lydia confronted his friend Mr. Denny.

  Mr. Denny said that Wickham had been obliged to Town on business that day.

  Elizabeth thought it likely that his business was an excuse to avoid Mr. Darcy.

  “Business?” Lydia repeated. “What kind of business?”

  Mr. Denny said, “It is of a romantic nature.”

  Lydia said, “Whatever do you mean?”

  Mr. Denny lowered his voice. “I believe Wickham is planning to buy a ring. An engagement ring.”

  Lydia flushed happily and glanced at Elizabeth over her shoulder as if to say, “See? I told you that Mr. Wickham was in love with me.”

  Mr. Denny finished, “For Miss King.”

  Lydia gasped, “What?” Her voice was shrill.

  Mr. Denny said, “It will be common knowledge soon, but I suppose I should not have told you.”

  “Is Mr. Wickham engaged to Miss King?” Elizabeth asked carefully.

  Mr. Denny nodded. “Yes. Wickham already spoke to her uncle. I think Miss King is waiting on the ring before she makes a formal announcement.”

  Lydia sputtered. “But how? Mr. Wickham doesn’t even know her.”

  Mr. Denny said, “He has been meeting her privately.”

  Lydia looked as if she might burst into tears, so Elizabeth quickly wrapped her arm around her shoulders and said, “Come, Lydia. I want to show you the gardens.” Together they walked across the drawing room’s decorative parquet floor to large French doors that looked out onto Netherfield’s gardens. They did not step outside for the weather was cool, but they could see the lawn and some lanterns.

  Lydia said, “There must be some mistake. Wickham loves me. Not Miss King. How could he love her? She’s a nasty freckled thing.”

  “Shh,” Elizabeth warned. “Lower your voice, please, if you don’t want to everyone to hear.” They were standing apart from the other guests, but voices could carry in a ballroom.

  “But he loves me,” Lydia repeated.

  Elizabeth said gently, “Mr. Denny may be mistaken, but I have heard that Miss King recently inherited ten thousand pounds.”

  Lydia said, “And you think Wickham chose her because of the money?”

  Elizabeth said, “Handsome men as well as plain ones must have something to live on.”

  Lydia said, “How could he do this to me? I hate him.” She pulled a handkerchief out of her reticule and dabbed at her eyes.

  Elizabeth thought that anger might be a better response than sorrow. She said, “Please, do not let him upset you. He is not worth your tears.”

  “No, he is not,” Lydia said bravely.

  At this moment, Mr. Collins approached them. “The music is starting. May I have this first dance, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked.

  “No, this is not a good time,” Elizabeth said, trying to be polite, but wishing that he were somewhere else, anywhere else but by their side.

  “What of you, Miss Lydia? Would you like to dance?”

  Lydia glared at him and before she could answer, Elizabeth said quickly, “Why don’t you ask Miss Lucas for the first dance?”

  Mr. Collins said, “Is that what you wish?”

  “Yes, please.” She tried to wave him away.

  He bobbed his head in a bow. “Then I will do as you request and dance with your friend.”

  After he left, Lydia said, “Don’t marry him, Lizzy. He is a toad.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  Lydia sniffed. “Mama wants you to.”

  “I know. But I must do what makes me happy, even if it makes Mama unhappy.” Marriage was for life, and she would not become leg shackled to a man she could not trust or admire.

  Lydia nodded, then said, “Do you think Mr. Collins would take Mary instead?”

  “I don’t know. Would she have him?”

  “I think she likes him.”

  Elizabeth was surprised that Lydia had noticed Mary’s preference when she had not. “I find that incomprehensible, but I suppose it is best that we don’t all like the same things in a man.”

  Lydia dabbed at her eyes again as if remembering Wickham, but then she straightened her shoulders. “I refuse to cry,” she declared. “And I will dance every dance. I won’t let anyone know that I have a broken heart.”

  “Good for you,” Elizabeth said. “I’m proud of you.”

  Lydia smiled and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Lizzy.

  DARCY WATCHED BINGLEY dance with Miss Bennet and looked around the ballroom until he saw Elizabeth standing by the French doors. Her sister Lydia was dancing with an officer, so she was standing alone.

  He was somewhat surprised that another gentleman had not already snatched her up. Darcy walked towards her, rehearsing what he wished to say.

  There was something about Elizabeth that often left him tongue tied like a callow youth.

  “Hello, Miss Bennet,” he said with a bow. “May I have the honour of the next dance?”

  For a moment she looked as if she would refuse to dance with him, as she had refused once before when they were at Lucas Lodge, but then she said, “Yes, thank you.”

  As they took their places for the dance, they stood for some time without speaking a word. She commented on the musicians and he agreed that they were good.

  Then she s
miled and said, “It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the musicians, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.”

  Darcy smiled. She had a delightful sense of humour. She was clever without being sharp. He said, “I am happy to say whatever you wish.”

  She said. “Very well. That reply will do for the present. We can be silent now.”

  “Do you talk by rule then while you are dancing?”

  “Sometimes. One must speak a little or else it may look odd.”

  “You do not strike me as the kind of person who cares overmuch what other people think.”

  She looked surprised by that. “Of course I care somewhat. I would not like to be the subject of gossip or censure.”

  “I meant only that you appear to have an independent mind.”

  She nodded. “Then I will take that as a compliment.”

  Darcy thought he had never enjoyed a dance as much as he was enjoying this one. They made their turns together with her hands in his, and then they went down the dance past the other couples to the ends of the two lines. Now they would again watch the other couples take their turns.

  He asked her if she and her sisters often walked to Meryton.

  “We do,” she said. “It provides entertainment as well as exercise.”

  He said, “When I met you the other day, I noticed that you were forming a new acquaintance.”

  Her chin lifted. “We were.”

  He said, “Please forgive my presumption, but I must warn you about Mr. Wickham. He is well-mannered, but he is not to be trusted.”

  “In what way?”

  In every way, Darcy thought, but he knew that the dance floor was not the proper place or time to outline all of Wickham’s sins. He said carefully, “He is ruthless and has been known to take advantage of young women.” He looked at Elizabeth directly, hoping that she would believe him.

  She said only, “He has said uncomplimentary things about you as well.”

  Given their history, it was to be expected. Darcy said, “I am not surprised. He and I were once friends, but we are not friends now.”