Elizabeth deduced from the seriousness of his tone that this was not an attempt at romance. She was relieved by that, and not in the least surprised. Although he routinely danced with her at assemblies, he never did so more than once. Nor did she think her change in circumstances had made him more interested in her. “Of course.”
“You should know, I don’t want to be alone with you in private. Ever. My parents told me they will disinherit me if I compromised you and we don’t marry.” He cast her a quick grimace. “That was harsher than I meant, but I don’t wish to marry you and I think you feel the same.”
Elizabeth nodded, trying not to let her amusement show. She’d never known John Lucas to be so agitated. It was obvious he took the threat of being made to wed her very seriously. “I do.”
“We can talk on a public road, of course.” He made a sweeping gesture, taking in their surroundings. “I simply can’t be found in private with you. I hope you’ll cooperate with this.”
“I will,” she agreed. “And thank you for telling me, so I don’t imagine you’ve come to despise me for what my sister has done.”
“I would never,” he said, but the slight flush coloring his neck bespoke of how near to the mark her words were.
“I realize her actions put us giving the appearance of closeness in a new light,” Elizabeth said. “Let us act as brother and sister in company and avoid being together alone.”
“Thank you.” He cast her a glance before returning his attention to the roadway before them. “I’m sorry it must be this way. We’ve always been friends. I’m sorry about your sister, too. I disliked Mr. Wickham before he ran off with her. Now, I wish I’d been more vocal in that dislike.”
“You echo my thoughts on the subject.”
“Do I? I thought you used to find his company pleasant.”
Elizabeth twisted her lips in a droll smile. “Once, I admit, but not recently. I came to appreciate he isn’t a man to be trusted, not his actions or words.”
“I thought as much. I saw you talking to him the night before the regiment left. I couldn’t overhear what you said, but I could tell you weren’t happy with him.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Why the change? Everyone liked him.” His tone was bitter.
Elizabeth contemplated her answer, wondering how much to tell. “I found out that, although Mr. Darcy did deny Mr. Wickham the living, he paid him three thousand pounds, at Mr. Wickham’s request.”
“So he lied.”
“I’m not certain any statement he made was actually a lie. However, after thinking about it, I realized the inconsistencies in his actions. He claimed he would never besmirch the Darcy name. Then he did so, but only after Mr. Darcy left the area.” She was too ashamed by her own lack of judgement to admit Mr. Wickham had only told her about his fake woes after he ascertained her dislike for Mr. Darcy. “Why did you dislike him?”
“Mary King.”
“Mr. Wickham was courting her,” Elizabeth recalled.
“I was courting her before she inherited ten thousand pounds.” If anything, John sounded more bitter than before. “As soon as she inherited, Wickham swooped in and dazzled her.”
“Then her uncle took her to Liverpool.”
“And I lost my chance.” He sighed. “I love her.”
Elizabeth blinked, surprised by the admission. “Why don’t you go to Liverpool and try again?”
“She’ll think me a fortune hunter. So will her uncle.”
“Perhaps. Was she aware you were courting her before she inherited?” Elizabeth sought back. She seemed to recall John dancing with Miss King, but not more than with any other girl.
“She knew. At least, I think she knew.” There was little conviction in his voice.
“Then she can tell her uncle you courted her before she inherited the money.” Elizabeth smiled. “Not to mention, assuming you don’t compromise me, you aren’t a penniless suitor.”
John looked down at the road beneath their feet. “What if she doesn’t believe me? Or turns me away? Or doesn’t return my feelings?”
“What is it worth to you to gain her hand? Is it worth being embarrassed?” Elizabeth let a touch of exasperation into her voice. If John did love Miss King, he was being quite foolish.
“If I knew I would gain her hand, I would go,” he said, evading Elizabeth’s question.
“Do you want to spend all of your life wondering if you would have won her and regretting you didn’t try?” Elizabeth asked, feeling a mixture of amusement and annoyance for John’s behavior.
“No.” This time, his tone was thoughtful.
They walked the remainder of the way back to Lucas Lodge in silence.
Chapter Eleven
You aren’t stupid. Why do you act it?
The search shouldn’t have taken so long, but Darcy eventually found where Wickham and Miss Lydia were staying. The woman at the lodging house directed him to a tavern down the street. He walked in, expecting to see them eating a meal, but found Miss Lydia serving one.
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said.
She turned to look and he saw the surprise in her face when she recognized him. “La, Mr. Darcy. Here I’m only Lydia.”
“Hardly only Lydia,” said a tavern patron, patting her familiarly on her seat.
Darcy was shocked, but Miss Lydia giggled and smiled at the man. Darcy looked around, stunned into immobility at finding a gentleman’s daughter playing a barmaid. Not just a barmaid, but an enthusiastic one.
Throughout the tavern, men were looking at Miss Lydia appreciatively. There were only two other females in the place, and Darcy judged both to be prostitutes. One caught his eye and smiled, showing three gaps where teeth were missing. He quickly looked away, not wanting to encourage her. The second was probably thirty but, as emaciated as she was, it was hard to tell. She used the distraction of Darcy’s presence to snag some food off the plate of the man at the table with her. Her plate looked like she’d licked it clean.
Miss Lydia sauntered over. “What can I get you, Mr. Darcy? Care for a seat?”
“Hey, don’t be runnin’ off with our Lydia, yer lordship,” one of the men called. “She’s the best thing ever happened to this dump.”
Darcy looked down at the girl before him, trying to reconcile what he was seeing with the Miss Lydia from his world. He recognized what the men in the tavern saw in her. She was pretty, true, but it was more than that. There wasn’t a hint of frailty in her. She exuded health and energy, unlike the ragged, worn women of their acquaintance.
It jolted him to realize part of Miss Lydia’s general attraction was a little of what he loved about Elizabeth. He knew he loved Elizabeth’s keen mind and her beauty, but there was also a freedom about her. Unfortunately, Miss Lydia carried that quality to an extreme. Elizabeth got it exactly right. Elizabeth also had good manners and concern for others. Her older sister had those qualities too, but was lacking the vitality of Elizabeth and Lydia.
Why did everything have to remind him of Elizabeth?
“I would like to talk to you,” Darcy said evenly, ignoring the increased grumbling from the men about the room.
“Unless you are buying a great deal, it will have to be after closing.”
“When is that?” He had the coin, but no desire to remain in the seedy establishment, fending off women of questionable repute.
She gave him a crooked grin. “When the customers stop coming.” With a toss of her hair, she turned away, took out a rag and began wiping an empty table.
Darcy left the tavern, retracing his steps to the boarding house. There, he bribed the woman who ran it to let him into the room Wickham and Miss Lydia were staying in. As a matter of prudence, he paid for two of his footmen to wait in an adjoining room. He realized as he did it, he was showing the power of his money, and doing so purposefully. He wanted Wickham to be reminded of what a man of Darcy’s means could do.
Because he expected a long wait, Darcy had one of his footmen go out a
nd get food to share with the frightened family who was staying in the room he’d stationed his men in. When he checked, about an hour later, he found his footmen were becoming friends with the now grateful residents of the room. His footmen had purchased much more food than they would eat in a single meal and made it clear they would leave the excess.
With a nod to his men to indicate his approval, Darcy took himself back to Wickham’s and Miss Lydia’s room to wait. It was a small space, cluttered with their possessions. It appeared neither of the two were inclined to be neat. There was only one bed. Darcy tried not to look at it. Each time he did, he found himself conjuring up images of seeing Wickham hanged. Instead, he gingerly moved aside a pile of discarded clothing and seated himself in the room’s only armchair.
It was well past dark by the time Wickham and Miss Lydia finally arrived. She was giggling and chattering on about her day. Wickham appeared to be doing his best to ignore her. Neither saw him until Wickham crossed to the small table and lit a candle.
Miss Lydia gasped, but her surprise quickly transformed into a smile.
Wickham eyed Darcy for a long moment, a look of trepidation on his face. Slowly, he composed his featured. “Darcy. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I want to restore Miss Bennet to her family or see her married.” This wasn’t the tavern. He would refer to her properly.
“Why?” Mr. Wickham asked.
“Because my silence about your character made it possible for you to fool her. If I’d spoken, you wouldn’t have been allowed near her, either by her family or Colonel Forster.” Darcy admitted to himself that was only a small portion of the truth. Elizabeth’s happiness and reputation were his greater worries.
“How much would you pay for a wedding?” Wickham pulled out one of the two rickety wooden chairs at the table, turning it to seat himself across from Darcy. “I have debts both in Meryton and in Brighton. I also need something to live on.”
“But we’re earning something to live on,” Miss Lydia said, looking back and forth between them. “And I’m having ever so much fun. The tavern is more interesting than dancing all night.”
“We’ve been lucky.” Wickham didn’t even bother to look at her as he spoke, his eyes on Darcy.
“But you said you got work today. We earned enough today to pay for our food and lodging and have a bit left over to save,” she said. “We don’t need Mr. Darcy.”
Wickham shot her an irritated glance. “One day, if I don’t find work, it’ll take us weeks to make up for it. If one of us gets sick, we’ll need money to tide us over. What we’re earning doesn’t offer security.”
“You’ve been working?” Darcy asked. Wickham never worked, not really.
“I’ve been loading and unloading barges. Every night I come home so sore I don’t think I can go on, but in the morning, I realize I still have to eat. The other men tell me the work is sporadic, but it’s busy now. A man broke his arm today. The boss was nice to him. He paid him for the full day.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Miss Lydia said, her eyes round. “When were you going to tell me we aren’t making enough money?”
“I thought you would figure it out.” Wickham gave a weary shrug. “It’s worse than that. One reason they like you at the tavern is because you dress like gentry. When your clothing wears out, we won’t be able to replace it.”
“We’ll find a way,” she said, crossing to stand beside him.
“No, we won’t. One wrong move and all of your fun will turn into something more horrible than you can imagine, Lydia.”
Darcy eyed Wickham in surprise. He sounded . . . as if he might actually care.
Wickham took one of her hands, bringing it to his lips. “You have to go home.”
“I don’t want to go home. Uncle Gardiner wrote that I’m to live in Pine Cottage. It’s tiny. I’d probably have to go back to sharing a room with Kitty.” She smiled suggestively at him. “I’d much rather share a room with you than with Kitty.”
Darcy worked to contain a grimace.
“You’ll be safer there,” Wickham said, his voice gentle.
“I don’t want to be safe, I want to enjoy myself,” she said with a flip of her hair.
“Lydia--”
“Why did you take me away from Brighton?” she asked, her tone damped by sudden seriousness.
“Because you had enough money to get us to London and I was facing debtor’s prison.”
Darcy saw the shock he felt mirrored on Miss Lydia’s face. He doubted the emotion stemmed from the same place, however. He was surprised at Wickham’s honesty. By the way Miss Lydia’s expression twisted from surprise to horror, Darcy rather felt she’d received a rude awakening.
“I am willing to marry you,” Wickham said.
“If Mr. Darcy pays you enough.” Miss Lydia’s tone was bitter.
Wickham grinned. “I’m not that particular. I’ll marry you if anyone pays me enough.”
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, deciding he’d had enough. “I can take you back to your family.”
“No.” She stomped her foot. “I hate it there. I’ve lived there all my life and I know there’s no one there for me. None of the men there who I want to marry think I’m worth marrying.”
Darcy refrained from pointing out that would be doubly so now.
“How am I supposed to find a man in Hertfordshire?” she continued. “My sister Jane is practically perfect, and she couldn’t. Even she fell in love with someone who isn’t from there.” Her expression turned slightly dreamy. “He was perfect, your friend Mr. Bingley. Handsome, and wealthy, but he deserted her.” Her eyes refocused on Darcy. “I understand she’s going to live with the Gardiners, but she should live in Pine Cottage, because she’s pining.” She giggled at her pun.
Darcy felt a surge of guilt. Elizabeth told him about Miss Bennet’s love for Bingley when he proposed to her, but even then, he’d never quite believed it. Hearing Miss Lydia repeat it, without the agenda of seeing her sister made happy, finally convinced him he was wrong. “What do you want, then?”
“I want to marry Wickham.” She turned a smile on Wickham. “Even if you pay him to do it, and even after the things he said.”
“Why?” Wickham asked. “You know I don’t love you.”
“I do. I suppose I’ve always known.” She frowned, looking as thoughtful as Darcy had ever seen her. “Somehow, I want to be with you. You make life fun.”
She turned back to Darcy with a smile and a shrug, then went to sit at the table, gesturing for him to join her. Darcy dragged over the armchair while Wickham turned his seat back around. As soon as all three were seated, the bargaining began.
Eventually, they came to an agreement. The money would keep the two of them from living in poverty, but they wouldn’t be able to afford anything beyond the barest means if they didn’t work. Working would raise their comfort level considerably. To Darcy’s surprise, Miss Lydia took over most of the bargaining. She was surprisingly astute at it.
When everything was settled, Darcy eyed Elizabeth’s youngest sister for a long moment. “Miss Bennet--”
“Lydia,” she said firmly.
“You have acted like a silly girl, and that includes your choice to marry Mr. Wickham.” He paused, taking in the amusement on her face. “You aren’t stupid. Why do you act it?”
“What choice do I have?” She shrugged.
“I don’t understand,” Darcy admitted.
“Mostly, it’s Elizabeth’s fault.”
“What?” Darcy frowned.
“She was Papa’s favorite. She’s very clever. I could never compete. Papa would never have liked me. At least Mama liked me when I was stupid.” She turned a fond smile on Wickham. “And look, that stupidity brought me the man I love.”
Wickham winced. “Darcy, let me walk you out.”
Darcy nodded, as eager to be gone as Wickham seemed to have him gone. After they left Miss Lydia, Darcy knocked on the neighbor’s doo
r to bring his unneeded footmen with him. Their hosts asked Darcy if they could come again, to which he gave a noncommittal reply.
“I don’t understand her,” Mr. Wickham complained as they walked down a dingy, poorly lit hall.
“I don’t either,” Darcy said. Nor did he care to.
Wickham sighed. “I threw away my chances.”
“You did.”
When they reached the front of the building, Wickham stopped, holding out his hand. He had an odd look on his face. “I have a feeling this is the last time you will be my safety net.”
Darcy took the proffered hand, shaking it. “You can count on that.”
Chapter Twelve
The gift was kind, generous and eminently practical.
In the days that followed, Elizabeth took over Arthur’s lessons. He thrived on her attention, learning faster than before. Elizabeth didn’t harbor any illusions she was a better teacher than Lady Lucas. Arthur’s attentiveness was partly explained by the lack of interruptions, as she made it a rule not to permit any, and partly because Elizabeth had become a novel commodity in the Lucas household. Arthur wanted his lessons, seeing them as his time with Elizabeth, and he needed tutelage.
Maria and Susan both decided they wanted to learn to play the pianoforte. Mary’s sheet music proved useful for teaching them. Elizabeth didn’t consider herself someone to learn the pianoforte from, but Mary had passed along several pieces for beginners, which made it easy for Elizabeth to teach the fundamentals. Maria only practiced when Elizabeth was sitting next to her, but Susan devoted a couple of hours a day to the instrument and was learning quickly.
Charlotte and Elizabeth spent a great deal of time together, Elizabeth assisting Charlotte with her tasks. They fed the chickens and sewed baby garments. Sometimes, Elizabeth helped in the kitchen. Her days were full of minor tasks, none of which were onerous.
Since her father’s passing, Elizabeth and her sisters had been forced to bear up under the mock sympathy of people who seemed to be triumphing over their financial reversal. Those same people, when she encountered them in passing, were all but gleeful over Lydia’s disappearance. Sentiment toward their family wasn’t helped when Mr. Wickham was found to be in debt to many tradesmen in Meryton. Unfortunately, his name was now irrecoverably tied to theirs. In deep mourning, Elizabeth was saved from encountering anyone but family, except as a matter of chance. With mild guilt, she realized her father’s death made her present circumstances easier, giving her a reason to avoid malice.
Believing in Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 9