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Darcy's Adventures

Page 25

by Zoë Burton


  Darcy was taken aback at first by her question, but he admired that quality in her…that protectiveness over her sisters. “Bingley has fallen in and out of love many times, but it has generally been more because of the ladies than his own actions.” He paused. “Well, let me amend that. On occasion, his sisters, in particular his younger sister, Caroline, have convinced him that this or that lady did not share his affections. I suspect that they did not care for the lady’s position in society, given Caroline and Louisa’s attitudes toward me and my fortune. However, most of the time, the ladies in question did not truly care for him, and he discovered it before it was too late. I will say this of Bingley, for all his amiability and eagerness to please, he can be quite shrewd in his dealings. My guess is that he inherited the trait from his father, who was an excellent man of business and who left Bingley with a large fortune.”

  “You are saying, then, that if my sister truly does esteem him, he will be able to discern the fact? And…will he allow his sister to dissuade him, if my sister is his choice?”

  Darcy thought a moment, considering how best to answer. “I believe that, as long as Bingley can see your sister’s affection for him, he will rely upon his own counsel. I found her to be almost supernaturally serene when we met, so I will trust your judgement of the matter. If he comes to me, with your permission, I will share with him what you have told me.”

  “Oh, yes, please do! I should not like to see my sister’s happiness ruined through misconception.”

  Her betrothed echoed her sentiments, and their conversation moved on to other topics.

  ~~~***~~~

  On the day of Elizabeth’s departure from London, her family and the Darcys gathered at Arthur Place. She was to be escorted to Longbourn by her betrothed and his sister, as well as Charles Bingley and his family. The Hursts had returned to London so that Bingley’s sister could serve as his hostess at Netherfield.

  After much hugging and kissing and assurances of correspondence between Elizabeth and Georgiana, and Mary and the family, Darcy handed first his sister and then his future wife into his travelling coach before boarding it himself. They proceeded to Brook Street, where Bingley and the Hursts were waiting. In no time at all, the merry group was on its way.

  They passed the time in quiet conversation. Except for Darcy and Georgiana, they were an outgoing group and before long, were speaking like old friends. The trip from London to Hertfordshire was a long one, however, and after the first stop, they found quiet pursuits such as reading and napping, in an effort to save their voices.

  They arrived at Longbourn just after tea, having dropped Georgiana, Bingley, and his family off first at their estate. For the first time, Darcy experienced the whirlwind that was Mrs. Bennet. He was shocked at her poor manners and loud exclamations.

  Elizabeth cringed every time her mother opened her mouth. She feared that Darcy would end their engagement, so haughty was his expression. She could tell he was offended. He is probably wondering if he truly wishes to be a part of such a family.

  Darcy, however, was wishing he could take Elizabeth away from her home today instead of weeks from now. For every word Mrs. Bennet spoke in praise of him, she had three that were disparaging of her daughter, a fact that angered him beyond expression. When she tried to draw him into the conversation by asking his opinion, he firmly responded that he thought Elizabeth was everything wonderful and that, as her mother, Mrs. Bennet should be praising her to the skies. Not knowing what to say in response, the matron turned the conversation to other areas.

  When the time came for him to leave, Elizabeth got him alone and expressed her worry. Darcy was quick to comfort her and assure her that ending their understanding was the furthest thing from his mind.

  On the second day of her return to Hertfordshire, Elizabeth found herself and her sisters walking into Meryton to visit their aunt. Darcy was spending the morning with Bingley and would come to Longbourn for dinner. As they approached the Phillips’ residence, Lydia called out a greeting to an officer, part of the militia unit quartered in the town for the winter, who was just across the way. He came across to greet the party with another man in tow. The officer, Lieutenant Denny, was just introducing his friend, one George Wickham, when Darcy and Bingley rode up the street.

  Seeing the Bennet ladies, they stopped to greet them. Bingley moved on, as he had business with the blacksmith that must be attended to right away. Mr. Wickham was trying to engage Elizabeth in conversation, which made her uneasy. Darcy, who had ignored the gentlemen in favor of gazing upon his love, immediately saw the discomfort in her face. He began to look at the officer and his companion in order to determine the source of her distress when his attention was arrested by a visage he had hoped to never see again. In an instant, he was off his horse and by Elizabeth’s side.

  “Are you well, my love?”

  The relief on her face was instant. “Yes, Fitzwilliam, I am. This gentleman was just making himself known to me.” She refused to look back at the newcomer and therefore missed the paling of his skin and the flash of fear in his features.

  “I see this.” He took her hand as he spoke and tucked it under his elbow, holding it close. Turning away from her, he addressed the man. “Wickham. Fancy meeting you here. What is your purpose in visiting this village?”

  “See here, Darcy, I have just as much right to walk these streets as you. Maybe more. I am signing up with the militia. I have funds to purchase a lieutenant’s commission. I have to do something to make my way, since you refused to give me the living your father left me.”

  “You were compensated richly for the living and signed it away. Do not think you will get away with spreading that story here. Fitzwilliam is looking for you. I spared your life after our last encounter; I will not do it again. My advice to you is to leave town immediately, because before this day ends, I will have sent him an express giving him your location, and you know what that means. I will not have you trifle with any female in this town, not if I can prevent it.”

  Wickham had grown even more pale at the mention of Darcy’s cousin. His bravado, however, had yet to desert him. He turned to Elizabeth. “I heard Darcy call you his love. Are you his mistress, then? He cannot be engaged to you; he is already betrothed to his cousin De Bourgh.” He jumped back when Darcy reached for him, turning and running the other direction.

  Elizabeth gasped at Wickham’s words, turning her eyes to Darcy. “What is this?” she cried.

  Darcy glared after the man running across the street, but dared not leave Elizabeth after what she had heard. He turned to her, grasping her hand in his when she would try to withdraw it from his arm. “I am not engaged to my cousin.” He looked around them. “Is there a place of privacy where we can speak? I would not have this story overheard.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes searched his face. “I am sure my aunt will let us use my uncle’s study. Come, she lives here, and my sisters have just now entered.”

  She led him up the stairs and into the house. Aunt Philipps greeted her with a kiss and curtseyed to Darcy. As expected, she granted her permission for the couple to use her husband’s study for a few minutes.

  Elizabeth led her betrothed to the small, book-lined room and shut the door behind them. Once there, Darcy explained the whole of his acquaintance with Mr. Wickham, as well as the engagement that existed only in his Aunt Catherine’s mind.

  “Mr. Wickham convinced Georgiana that he was in love with her? How horrible! The poor girl!”

  “She was inconsolable for weeks.”

  “How could someone, who was so close to you as a child, and so favored by your father, despite his position as the son of Pemberley’s steward, turn against the very family who supported him?”

  “Wickham has shown tendencies toward profligacy since he was a child. My father never saw it, for it was only displayed when we were away from the house. Wickham’s own father did his best to rein his son in, but Mrs. Wickham was a spendthrift, and since he spent more time wi
th her than with his father, my childhood friend learned to want more than what he could afford. It grew much worse when we were at Eton. By the time we went on to Cambridge, I was forced to distance myself from him, though it was always me who cleaned up his messes and paid his debts.”

  “Why did you not allow him to be exposed?”

  “For my father’s sake. Papa was never the same after my mother passed away. He grew more and more ill. I was afraid he would not survive the shock of discovering that his favorite was not what he thought him to be, nor would he survive if scandal was attached to the Darcy name. Then, he passed away, just as I was finishing my studies. I had no reason to continue to ease Wickham’s path; I wanted to be done with him. So, when he told me he did not want to take the orders that were the condition of his receiving the living at Kympton, I was happy to give him monetary remuneration for it. I knew he should not be a clergyman.”

  “And he went through three thousand pounds?”

  “Four, and in less than two years.”

  “And then he had the audacity to ask for more!”

  “Yes.”

  “Well.” Elizabeth was uncertain what else could be said about the man…she could not in good conscience call him a gentleman…that she had met today. She turned her thoughts to the other, more weighty matter. “And…your cousin?”

  Darcy sighed. This was even more difficult to explain, because it was positively mortifying. “My aunt, Lady Catherine De Bourgh, has stated, often and loudly, that my cousin Anne and I are formed for each other. She claims it to be the wish of my late mother that I marry Anne. I do not know how my cousin feels about it, but I never had any intention of marrying her. Where I believe I have failed is that, instead of confronting my aunt with the truth, I simply ignored her. I should have made it plain long ago that I would not tie myself to my cousin.”

  Elizabeth nodded, taking the information in and considering it. “Is there a particular reason you did not wish to marry her? She is far higher in consequence than I, and likely has a handsome fortune.”

  “That is true, on both counts. However, aside from the simple fact that I do not love my cousin and cannot think of her in the position of my wife, Anne has nothing to recommend her. She is of a sickly constitution, and has never learned the accomplishments that a gentlewoman of our sphere should. She has no conversation and her countenance is perpetually sour. My aunt declares that Anne is the image of my mother, but I do not see the resemblance. My mother was delicate, but she enjoyed a good turn about the gardens and had a healthy glow to her skin. Anne does not.”

  “You prefer a lady who enjoys her exercise?”

  Darcy took a step closer. “Indeed, I do, and one who reads and is capable of intelligent discussion.”

  “You are not engaged to her, then, and have no desire to be?”

  “No and no. I only wish to marry you.”

  “What is your aunt going to say when she learns of our engagement?”

  “I care not. I do not answer to Lady Catherine, nor to her brother, the earl. I am my own man.”

  “What does the earl say about it?”

  “I do not know; I have not spoken to him. I do, however, expect a letter soon. I wrote to him the other day announcing my engagement and removal to Hertfordshire. I also wrote to Lady Catherine.”

  Elizabeth considered these words, as well. “Very well. I love you and do not wish to give you up. If you are certain that your relatives cannot separate us, then I will put them out of my mind.”

  Darcy pulled her into his arms. “I am certain.” Before he could kiss Elizabeth, as he dearly wished to, there came a knock on the door and the sound of her sister, Kitty, calling for them. They pulled away from one another with looks of regret.

  The door opened and Kitty stuck her head in. “Lizzy, are you coming? Aunt is ready to serve the tea!”

  “We are right behind you. Thank you for coming to get us.”

  “You are welcome, but hurry! I am hungry!”

  ~~~***~~~

  The first days of Darcy’s visit to Hertfordshire were filled with dinners and teas celebrating his engagement to Elizabeth. Darcy, who was never comfortable with strangers, thought it a trial, though he greatly enjoyed watching Elizabeth flit around the room, speaking with everyone and lighting up the place with her smile. Through her presence, he found himself able to easily bear the intrusive inquiries of the neighborhood into his life.

  The week after their arrival, there was a ball scheduled at the Assembly Hall. The ladies that inhabited Longbourn were mad with glee, for all of them who were in residence loved to dance. They spent the entire week preparing, remaking gowns and practicing the steps. Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and even Mr. Bennet were called upon to assist the ladies with the latter. Finally, the night of the dance arrived.

  Darcy assisted his betrothed out of the carriage, escorting her inside while Mr. Bennet handed the rest of the family down.

  “Fitzwilliam, where is Mr. Bingley? I thought he might come with you.”

  “Ah, Bingley rode back to town today.” Darcy’s smirk intrigued Elizabeth.

  “He did? Why?”

  “Because, as he put it…” Here Darcy changed his voice to one slightly higher that closely matched Bingley’s tone. “I long for Miss Bennet’s company far too much to be easy attending an assembly without her. I would much rather be by her side.”

  Elizabeth squeezed his arm as she laughed. “Oh, do tell! I am so happy to hear that. Jane will be delighted to see him.”

  “I rather expect to hear of an engagement between the two of them soon.”

  “Oh, I hope so! Two more closely matched people I have never seen. They are both so easygoing!”

  “Yes, and if they do marry, they will likely be taken in by their servants and not have the heart to do anything about it.”

  Rosings Park, Kent

  Lady Catherine De Bourgh accepted the post from her butler with a stiff nod. Shuffling through the pile, she saw that she had received a letter from her favorite nephew. It was rare for him to write, and so, dropping the rest of the mail, she broke the seal and swiftly unfolded the missive. She anticipated a clear statement of his intent to set a wedding date with her daughter. She was, however, angered to read that he had engaged himself to someone else.

  Bennet? She thought to herself. Bennet?? I know of no family by that name. She rang the bell to call the butler back as she reread the letter.

  “My lady?”

  “Order my coach readied for a trip to,” she looked at the missive again, “Hertfordshire. We shall leave tomorrow morning. I will require a boy to deliver instructions to the inns between here and town, for I will be stopping there for the night. Oh, and go to the library and find my copy of Debrett’s and bring it here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The servant bowed before turning to complete his assignments. Lady Catherine immediately sat down to write letters of her own, arranging for horses and breaks at inns along the way, and for her townhouse to be opened for her use and that of her daughter.

  “Mama, what are you doing? The servants seem to be running about in a frenzy. Mrs. Jenkinson has ordered my maid to pack a trunk for me. Are we going somewhere?” Anne De Bourgh was made uneasy at the thought of travelling. It was not something she and her mother did often, and it generally meant a great deal of discomfort. Anne was a lady who liked her comforts.

  “We are indeed going somewhere. I received a letter from Darcy in today’s post. It seems he has engaged himself to someone. Someone who obviously is not you.”

  “Really?” Anne’s relief in this news displayed itself in a delighted smile. She had no desire to marry anyone, especially not her cousin. He was a good looking gentleman, solid and well-built in all the right places, but he was also frighteningly tall and large. She always tried to make herself as small as possible so as to escape his notice when he visited. He never disagreed with her mother about the supposed betrothal between them, and Anne had taken that to mean he would
eventually get around to asking. She hated to disappoint anyone, and hated more to be at odds with her mother, but she would have turned him down. Every Easter for years she had marshalled the arguments she would use with him and with her mother for her refusal, because she knew it would take all of her strength and energy to stand her ground.

  As quickly as her reaction showed on her face, Anne masked it. It would not do for her mother to see it. She would save her energy for later, when she would have to support Darcy’s decision.

  The next morning, as soon as Anne had broken her fast, she and her mother boarded the coach. The trip was short, only half a day’s journey, but Anne’s delicate health required that they stop for the night in London and leave again the next morning.

  So it was that, two days after she received Darcy’s letter, Lady Catherine and her daughter entered the village of Meryton. Her instructions to her coachman were to find Longbourn, for that was the name of the estate she had found in the peerage register. Her shock had been great to discover the connection to the peerage that the Bennet family could claim. It was unexpected; however, her daughter still retained a prior claim to Darcy. She could not let this supposed engagement stand. She held the strap as her coachman brought the equipage to a stop. Out the window, she could see three young ladies about to enter what appeared to be a seamstress’ shop.

  “Hello, Miss!”

  All three Bennet daughters turned at the sound of the coach stopping and the driver hailing someone. Realizing he was calling to them, Elizabeth stepped forward. “Hello, sir!”

  “Could you tell me where to find an estate called Longbourn? The Bennet family?”

  Taken aback, Elizabeth glanced at Kitty and Lydia, who had moved to stand at her left side, and then back to the coachman. Before she could utter a word, Lydia spoke, pointing her finger toward the road.

  “Why, Longbourn is our home. It is just down the way here.”

  The driver’s face showed surprise. “You are Bennets? All of you?”

 

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