by Jann Rowland
“And yet you wish her to make a match with him?” asked Anne.
“I only wish for Jane to be happy. I know not what means his sisters used to persuade him against her, but I suspect it was underhanded. I believe that if he was presented to the sight of Jane before him again, he would forget all about his sisters’ objections.”
Anne’s expression only became ever more severe. “From all you have told me of Mr. Bingley and his sister, are you not worried about Mr. Bingley being ruled by his sister and making your sister’s life miserable?”
“I can only hope that he would be roused to her protection,” said Elizabeth. “But in the end, I trust Jane to understand what she wishes. As I have said, I only want her to be happy.”
“Then what do you mean to do about it?”
Taken aback, Elizabeth gazed at her friend, wondering if she had heard Anne correctly. “What do I mean to do?”
“Elizabeth,” said Anne, her tone gentle yet firm, “Do you not see that you have been given a singular opportunity? You are staying at Darcy’s house, and at present there is no limit to the length of your stay. Jane is in town and, if Mr. Bingley is not yet in town, I believe he soon will be. If you wish to end your sister’s suffering, your path seems clear.”
“Are you suggesting we arrange for them to be together again?”
“Of course,” replied Anne. “Darcy has already accepted your aunt and uncle, and I expect they will be in company with us on several occasions. I do not know where Mr. Bingley is or what he is doing, but as Darcy is his good friend, he will naturally wish to be in company with Mr. Bingley.”
“And if Mr. Bingley sees me staying here, his thoughts will naturally turn to Jane.”
“Exactly. It should not be difficult to get them into each other’s company again, and if their feelings are as you suspect, they will do the rest themselves. At the very least, we will have given them the chance to come to their own conclusions while lessening the interference of Mr. Bingley’s sisters.”
It was tempting. Though it suggested a hint of matchmaking, in reality, Elizabeth had no other thought in mind than to give Mr. Bingley a chance to once again see Jane and render whatever argument his sister had used as irrelevant. However, there was a potential for disaster too. If Mr. Bingley decided against Jane again, her already wounded heart would be further damaged because of it. Elizabeth did not know what to do.
“I think you do your sister a disservice,” said Anne when Elizabeth made this observation. “She has been affected by Mr. Bingley’s defection—it is true. But I think she has become wiser as a result, and should he appear any different from his previous attentions, I believe she will notice it. It might even help her to overcome her melancholy, rather than draw her down into the depths of despair.”
“It is possible,” said Elizabeth, though her level of skepticism was high. Jane did have a tender heart, and Elizabeth had seen nothing more from her sister than distress at the abandonment of Mr. Bingley. She was, indeed, too apt to look for the good in others rather than seeing them as they were, but Elizabeth could not help but suppose that in this instance, such traits would serve her ill.
“Perhaps we could see how mention of Mr. Bingley affects her. It may also be possible to see Mr. Bingley, to observe whether his own regard has survived their separation.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Elizabeth. “I am not opposed at present, Anne, but I would not wish to rush into something and make the situation worse.”
“Of course,” replied Anne.
Their discussion was interrupted at that moment by the entry of Mr. Darcy, followed by Colonel Fitzwilliam. Though there was no time to continue to discuss the matter, Anne threw Elizabeth a significant look which promised further debate later, and they both turned their attention to the two gentlemen. Mr. Darcy appeared as serious as ever, but the colonel was his usual ebullient self, and his manner carried a hint of smugness. Elizabeth was intrigued.
“Anne, Miss Bennet,” said the colonel, and when he looked at her, Elizabeth got a greater sense of his mischievous self-satisfaction. “I hope the day finds you both well?”
“It does, indeed, Cousin,” replied Anne. “Now, shall you inform us both of what has you preening like a peacock?”
Elizabeth laughed, as much from the colonel’s injured response as from the fact that Anne had seen the same thing in his behavior as Elizabeth had herself.
“I am most certainly not a peacock, Cousin,” replied the colonel with a superior sniff. “In fact, I am the furthest thing from it. I am a professional soldier, and as such, I am always serious and grave.”
Mr. Darcy snorted, even as Anne let loose a derisive laugh. “If you are the model of gravity and restraint, I fear for us against the French. Napoleon might sail across the channel and subjugate us all while you preen in front of a mirror.”
“That is not kind, Anne,” said Darcy, though his grin told them all how diverted he was by her teasing. “In fact, Fitzwilliam has done us all a service, and I believe we should be thankful for his efforts.”
“A service?” asked Anne. Her eyes swung to her cousin, and she seemed to be assessing him. “Then please, share it with us. What have you done which deserves such praise?”
“I doubt it means much to you, Anne,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. He brushed his nails against his coat and inspected them. Elizabeth was not fooled by his performance in the slightest. “I believe it is of much more interest to Miss Bennet.”
“To me?” asked Elizabeth, nonplussed. “I heard you had business in the north. I cannot imagine what it would have to do with me, though I will own I am surprised you are back so quickly.”
“Is that what you told her?” asked Colonel Fitzwilliam, swinging his eyes to his cousin.
“It was the truth,” protested Mr. Darcy. “I simply did not specify where in the north you were or what your business entailed.”
“I believe I will become quite cross if you do not stop this teasing!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “What have you done that is so praiseworthy?”
“Nothing of consequence, I suppose,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I may have gone to speak with Colonel Forster, who is, as you know, the commanding officer of the militia company stationed in Meryton. During our conversation, we might have discussed the habits of one of his officers and what has likely been happening since he joined the regiment. Then, I may have ensured that Wickham is no longer any threat to anyone.”
Eyes wide, Elizabeth stared at the colonel. He could not possibly be saying what she thought he was saying. Could he?
“I believe you have struck our Elizabeth speechless, Cousin,” said Anne in a wry tone. “It may be best if you explain yourself.”
“I would be happy to,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam, grinning at Elizabeth. “You are likely not aware of this, but Colonel Forster is known to me. While I would not call us friends, we, at the least, shared a cordial, though brief, acquaintance some years in the past. Knowing what sort of man Wickham is, and having heard of his antics in Hertfordshire from Darcy, we determined that it was time to do something about the reprobate once and for all.
“Consequently, I journeyed to Hertfordshire to speak with Forster, and I laid out everything I knew of the man. Knowing of Wickham’s propensity to run at the first sign of trouble, I brought a pair of trustworthy men from my own regiment to take our dear Wickham into custody and prevent his escape.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head, and he chuckled. “I must hand it to you, Miss Bennet, your manners are everything that is elegant and proper, but you have a pair of sisters . . .”
Elizabeth gasped. “You met Kitty and Lydia?”
“They were speaking with Wickham on the street in Meryton when I arrived. It provided the perfect opportunity to clap Wickham in chains without any fuss. Unfortunately, Miss Lydia did not appreciate our treatment of her favorite, and Miss Kitty was little better.” The colonel paused and put a finger in his ear, wigg
ling it about. “I fear I may have suffered permanent hearing damage from their screeching and caterwauling.”
Though it was not at all amusing—her sisters were, as she had always lamented, only inches from ruining them all forever—Elizabeth had no choice but to laugh. “Had I any concern you might be misrepresenting yourself, it has been laid to rest. You have taken their measure quite thoroughly.”
“Indeed, I have,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. Then his gaze turned positively roguish. “But they were both quickly diverted from the unfortunate Wickham. I am a colonel, after all, and not one bound to the militia. Once they realized this fact, your youngest sisters were rather impressed.”
Elizabeth shook her head and buried her face in her hands. How would she ever hold her head up high in the face of such ridiculous and improper sisters?”
“Do not be cast down, Miss Bennet. I immediately set things to rights and sent them home. Your sisters are not so bad—they are young and immature, and their behavior is nothing a little maturity and a firm hand will not correct.”
There was no reason to inform the colonel that a firm hand was something it was unlikely they would ever receive.
“Regardless, my conversation thereafter with Colonel Forster was completed quickly, and a little investigation proved that Wickham has once again gathered credit which exceeds his means. His commission was forfeit to settle part of his debts, and his remaining obligations were purchased to provide further leverage over him.” Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned at Elizabeth. “Thus, you may be certain that I have not rid the world of the stain of one George Wickham, though I was sorely tempted.
“I had him brought in, and he was given two choices: he could either face prosecution from Darcy for all the debts—new and old—Darcy holds, or he could be given one hundred pounds and a ticket on a ship bound for the New world.
Elizabeth gasped. “Mr. Wickham is to depart England?”
“He has already departed,” replied the colonel. “Before I left London, we purchased a ticket for him, knowing he would not have a choice, and I escorted him to his ship this morning. Given what I know of his propensities and his over-inflated opinion of his skill at the gaming tables, I doubt he will ever possess the means to return. In fact, I doubt the money he was given will survive the crossing, and I suspect there is some question of him ever reaching the shores of the New World.”
It was too much for Elizabeth to understand, and she only stared at the colonel for some moments. Colonel Fitzwilliam, for his part, seemed amused at her reaction, for he watched her, saying nothing, displaying an unrepentant smile for her benefit.
“Then I believe the community and my family, in particular, owes you much, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” said Elizabeth at length. “But why did you take it upon yourself to do this much?”
“If you believe it was at my instigation, you are mistaken,” replied the colonel, confusing Elizabeth even more. “My cousin, after your conversation about Wickham, determined to do something about him. He was set on going himself, but I argued that I was better positioned to do it by virtue of my position in the army. Besides,” added the colonel, the menacing cast to his countenance suggesting Mr. Darcy was entirely correct about his cousin, “I felt that Wickham was owed something more from our family than my cousin would likely give him. Wickham has been a bounder and a millstone around Darcy’s neck since he was a boy, and I wished him to understand that he had best not be seen on these shores again.”
“Oh, Cousin,” said Anne, shaking her head. “Did you explain matters to him in a pointed fashion?”
“No, though that was tempting. All I did was allow him to attempt to take his frustrations out on me.” The colonel’s expression was unreadable. “Wickham’s level of fitness is shocking, though he has been in the militia for more than a six-month. It is likely because of his fondness for the bottle and his tendency to spend all his waking moments when he is not on duty—and likely when he is—gambling with his fellow officers. It did not take much persuasion to convince him that it was not in his interests to try to best me.”
“I am surprised he had the courage to try,” said Mr. Darcy. “Wickham has always been deathly afraid of you.”
“I may have given him some encouragement. He might fear me, but he has always had a short temper.”
“Then he is gone,” said Elizabeth with a sigh. “I do not wish him back, though I wonder at the wisdom of unleashing him on the unsuspecting people of the former colonies.”
“You have little to worry in that quarter, Miss Bennet,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam, his bared teeth a testament of his disgust for Mr. Wickham. “If Wickham survives the crossing—which, given his habits, is not certain—he will find that his fine gentlemanly manners will do him little good. The Americans are far less refined than we are. He might find himself missing some teeth if he is not careful.”
Though she supposed she should not find it amusing, Elizabeth laughed anyway. Vindictiveness was not usually a part of her character, but the idea of Mr. Wickham receiving his just desserts for the way he had used her was appealing.
“Then I can only say good riddance to Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth when she had managed to control her laughter. “I am sorry that his life has been wasted so, but happy he cannot harm those in my neighborhood any longer.”
“I am happy to have been of service, Miss Bennet,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. He favored her with an extravagant bow, winking at her as he rose.
“Do you have any information concerning Mrs. Younge?” asked Elizabeth.
The colonel made a face, but it was Mr. Darcy who responded. “Unfortunately, nothing. She claims she has not attempted to become a companion again, and short of applying to Lady Catherine to confirm if Mrs. Younge is, indeed, Miss Younge, there is little we can do. Since her confederate is now bound for the New World, I decided to leave well enough alone.”
Mrs. Younge on her own could not be much of a threat, so Elizabeth allowed herself to be content.
“Now, if you ladies will excuse me,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “I believe I shall go wash off the dust of the road.”
So saying, the colonel exited from the room, leaving a bemused Elizabeth behind. She watched him go, wondering at what she had learned; for Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam especially to have gone to such trouble to protect her family was beyond her comprehension, especially since Mr. Darcy had not seen fit to do anything about Mr. Wickham when he had surfaced in Hertfordshire the previous autumn.
Their little party broke up after Colonel Fitzwilliam left—Anne claimed a desire to rest before luncheon and took herself up to her room, while Mr. Darcy indicated a need to finish some work. But before he could depart, Elizabeth called out to him, unwilling to allow him to absent himself without receiving some well-earned thanks. It was the very least she could do.
“I wished to express my appreciation, Mr. Darcy,” said she. Though he had stopped readily enough when she asked him to, Elizabeth felt unequal to the task of speaking with him for perhaps the first time in their acquaintance. “I am aware you did not need to involve yourself again with Mr. Wickham, but I am grateful you did.”
“I accept your thanks, Miss Bennet,” replied he, his manner grave. “But I will tell you it is not necessary. I should have dealt with Wickham properly the last time—it is because of my inaction that he was allowed to continue to prey on unsuspecting people.
“Besides,” continued he, a hint of a smile flitting over his face, “I will note that it was Fitzwilliam who did all the work. I only provided the means to pay Wickham’s debts and purchase his ticket for the ship.”
“Perhaps, but it was at your instigation that the colonel acted.”
“In truth, Fitzwilliam called me a fool for insisting he be given any money at all, and I cannot help but suppose he is correct. He is also correct that Wickham’s money is unlikely to last the crossing.” Mr. Darcy smiled and gave a helpless shrug. “But Wickham was beloved of
my father, and I could not send him off penniless.”
“You are a good man, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth with feeling.
She turned away, but she was arrested by the sound of his voice once more. “I will own that protection of your sisters and the people of Meryton was part of my reason for it. But I will also state, Miss Bennet, that in the end, I believe I thought only of you.”
And with those final words, the man bowed and departed, leaving Elizabeth staring after him. Had Mr. Darcy declared the sky to be red, she could not have been any more surprised. It seemed like Charlotte’s assertions about him were correct, and for the first time, Elizabeth wondered how deep Mr. Darcy’s regard for her went.
Chapter XXI
Eager as Elizabeth was to avoid upsetting her sister and seeing her once again brought down to the depths of despair, this plan of Anne’s brought her more than a little uncertainty.
“You want the best for your sister, right?” asked Anne when Elizabeth expressed reservation.
“Of course, I do!” In all truth Elizabeth was more than a little annoyed with her friend—though not often, she could see echoes of Lady Catherine in Anne’s behavior, and now was one of those times. This was more manipulative than Lady Catherine’s imperious commands, but it still struck Elizabeth as controlling. “I am simply not convinced this is in her best interests.”
When Anne tried to speak again, Elizabeth interrupted, unwilling to listen to her friend try to convince her. “I have agreed to this, Anne, but please—do not cause Jane any further heartache.”
“I assure you, Elizabeth—I have no intention of doing so. I have a high opinion of your sister and only wish her to be happy.”
And with that, Elizabeth was forced to be content, though it did not stop her from worrying. This feeling of unease was raised when she and Anne went to Gracechurch Street only a few days after the dinner to visit with Elizabeth’s aunt and sister. Georgiana, who had also enjoyed making Jane’s acquaintance, stayed behind at her brother’s house, her companion indicating that she needed to spend more time on her studies, which had been somewhat neglected of late.