Elizabeth Bennet's Deception: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary

by Regina Jeffers

  Bingley sprang to his feet.

  “You call yourself a gentleman! I am ashamed to have called you friend. I should have realized you would take the high road and declare it benevolence.”

  Mr. Darcy placed the pen upon the well’s lip.

  “What would you have me do, Bingley? This is not my affair!”

  Bingley leaned across Mr. Darcy’s desk.

  “Not two hours prior you asked me to name a task which would earn my forgiveness. It is named, Sir. If your finding Mr. Wickham to save the Bennets more heartache, then you will do so or never cross my path again.”

  Elizabeth knew she should tell both men that it was Lydia’s shame, not hers, they defended, but she wished to know whether Mr. Darcy’s disgust or his regard was the strongest.

  Long moments where only the sound of both men taking the other’s measure passed. Finally, Mr. Darcy instructed Bingley.

  “I suggest you call at Longbourn. I am certain Miss Bennet would welcome your sensibility.”

  “And what of Elizabeth?” Aunt Margaret demanded.

  “If I find Mr. Wickham, it would be best if Miss Elizabeth were close at hand. I will escort the two of you to London.”

  “You have guests,” Elizabeth objected. “Simply provide me the direction, and my uncle will see to the rest.”

  Mr. Darcy smiled without humor.

  “Mr. Bingley sent his sisters on to Hursts’ estate, and Mrs. Annesley is with Georgiana.”

  “I will order my carriage,” Bingley declared as he started for the door.

  “If Mrs. Gardiner will accept my presence in her husband’s coach, I will travel with the ladies.”

  Aunt Margaret appeared disassembled, but she agreed.

  “Elizabeth and I will wait below, Mr. Darcy.”

  * * *

  “You should have told Mr. Darcy the truth,” her aunt chastised. “Mr. Bennet will be most displeased that the gentleman holds you in contempt.”

  Elizabeth frowned. Her emotions were beyond her control at the moment, and the thought of spending two days in a coach with Mr. Darcy had her trembling in dread.

  “Mr. Darcy never approved of me or my family.” Boldly, Elizabeth claimed, “I care not for the man’s opinions; all that is important is discovering Mr. Wickham. At least, we may save Jane’s connection to Mr. Bingley.” Elizabeth’s heart cried out in complete despair.

  “And what of you, Lizzy? Are there no prospects you would accept?”

  Elizabeth’s gaze returned to where she last saw Mr. Darcy.

  “No, Aunt. But there is the dream of someone.”

  * * *

  “You sent for me, William?” Darcy looked up to find Georgiana framed by the open door. He worked hard to keep his expression calm.

  “I wanted you to know I must return to London for a few days. I shan’t be longer than necessary.”

  Georgiana took a tentative step in his direction. Her expression spoke of worry.

  “Has this something to do with whatever upset Mr. Bingley last evening?”

  Darcy wrapped his shaving brush and soap in a clean cloth.

  “No. Mr. Bingley’s dudgeon was my fault. I interfered in his life, and I should have kept my own counsel.”

  “Is that the reason Miss Bingley and the Hursts departed so quickly? When you sent me from the room I thought they learned the story of Mr. Wickham and found me in contempt. Did not Miss Elizabeth know Mr. Wickham is Hertfordshire? I overheard you saying something to that effect to Fitzwilliam.” Her bottom lip trembled, but his sister stood tall: Another example of how Georgiana met her worst nightmare and emerged on the other side.

  Darcy caught her to him. Gently he stroked Georgiana’s back.

  “No, my dearest. I sent you from the room to salvage a bit of honor. I knew I must apologize for wronging Bingley, and I did not wish to humble myself before you.”

  Georgiana’s fingers caressed his cheek.

  “Was what you did truly horrid?”

  “Unforgivable,” Darcy confessed. “That is the reason for my quick withdrawal to London. As part of my penitence to Bingley, he asked that I aid Miss Elizabeth with a family problem. The lady and her aunt wait for me below.”

  Georgiana looked up at him with such admiration that Darcy’s pride ached.

  “I would imagine you would act in the lady’s behalf, even without Mr. Bingley’s insistence.”

  “Would I?” Darcy released his sister to return to his packing. The idea he would deliver Elizabeth Bennet into George Wickham’s arms ripped Darcy’s heart into rough pieces. He was not certain he could act so bravely.

  “Certainly, you would,” his sister declared. “You are the best of men.”

  “The best of men never question their decisions,” Darcy corrected, “and I cannot freely give myself up to this task.”

  * * *

  “Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth cornered the gentleman while he waited for his carriage to be brought around. “I have something to confess to you.”

  He caught her hand with a tender caress.

  “There is no need for you to explain to me. I would never think poorly of you.”

  Elizabeth blushed, and she lowered her voice.

  “It is not I who has known Mr. Wickham.”

  Bingley’s frown lines deepened.

  “But you said…”

  “I did not correct Mr. Darcy’s assumption,” she insisted.

  Bingley shook his head in disbelief.

  “No, I suppose you did not. Then why would you permit Darcy to think otherwise?”

  “I do require Mr. Darcy’s assistance, and I thought it would be easier if he thought he acted for my benefit. In truth, it is Lydia who ran off with Mr. Wickham. Mr. Darcy cares little for my family, but in hindsight, I find the gentleman always acted kindly toward me. Even so, what you must understand is if we cannot make Mr. Wickham marry Lydia, your return to Longbourn will be for naught. Jane will not accept a renewal of your attentions if she thinks doing so will ruin your family name. My sister understands the need for the Bingleys to move within the tiers of Society.”

  Elizabeth’s declaration appeared to bring a serious notion to Mr. Bingley’s features.

  “Then I suppose it is best that you lead Darcy on a successful hunt for I plan to offer your eldest sister my hand, and I would prefer not to be denied.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled with delight.

  “But what of my omissions in seeking Mr. Darcy’s assistance?”

  Bingley shot a quick glance to Pemberley House.

  “I would say Darcy deserves a taste of interference in his most exacting plans. Play on, Miss Elizabeth, play on.”

  * * *

  Once they settled in Mr. Gardiner’s coach, Darcy asked, “Does Mr. Wickham know you are on holiday?”

  Realizing she opened a bee’s nest with her deceit, Elizabeth took her time in formulating a response. She would present Mr. Darcy with the truth, just not the complete truth. It would be necessary for her to maintain the pretense until her family found news of Mr. Wickham.No more than a week, she thought.

  “As my youngest sister is a guest of Colonel Forster’s wife, I would assume so. Why is that significant?”

  Mr. Darcy stared out the window.

  “I am praying Mr. Wickham did not follow you to Derbyshire. I would be displeased to learn he made an unexpected call upon Pemberley.”

  Elizabeth understood the gentleman’s sentiments: Mr. Darcy left Georgiana unattended in order to assist a “fallen” woman.

  “When Lydia traveled to Brighton with Mrs. Forster, my family and I were engaged to take a northern tour to the Lakes. Unfortunately, uncle’s business kept us from so long a journey. We were obliged to forsake our journey to the Lakes for a more contracted tour. Despite what you may think, my uncle’s desire to view Pemberley had more to do with your estate’s reputation for fine fishing than it was to look upon another well-dressed sitting room. We saw our fair share of great estates on this journey.” />
  Before Mr. Darcy could respond to Elizabeth’s challenge, her aunt interrupted. She realized belatedly her tone spoke of Elizabeth’s rising ire.

  “Do you believe Jane will be well with my children underfoot? Mrs. Bennet must be suffering from the shock of this situation,” Aunt Margaret fretted.

  “Jane will delight in having an excuse to leave Mrs. Bennet to Kitty and Mary,” Elizabeth assured.

  “When we reach London, I shall set a second course to Hertfordshire,” her aunt declared.

  “By then, Mr. Bingley will be at Netherfield,” Elizabeth reasoned. “And perhaps, by then, uncle or papa will know success.”

  “Why has not Miss Lydia returned to Longbourn?” Mr. Darcy asked suspiciously.

  “As you are well aware, Mr. Darcy, my youngest sister is not known for her sensibilities or her discretion when it comes to gossip.”

  Chapter Four

  She answered his questions, but something was missing from Elizabeth Bennet’s responses: the fire–the innate bravery to face the unknown. Certainly it was possible her “condition” obliterated Elizabeth’s resolve, but Darcy could not imagine it to be so. His eyes studied her form as Elizabeth slept in the seat across from him. He left her at Rosings after Easter, a little over four months prior. Enough time for Mr. Wickham to practice a seduction and her to find herself with child, but Darcy could not fathom Miss Elizabeth’s succumbing to Mr. Wickham’s pretty words of flattery. She would listen, but not fall into a compromising situation. Such was not in the lady’s nature.

  Moreover, Elizabeth’s form was very much as it always was: small waist, slim legs and arms, full, round bosoms, but not engorged in preparation for a child. To know for certain she was increasing, Miss Elizabeth must be at least three months along.But she remained in Kent for several weeks after my departure,Darcy reasoned.Still long enough for her to become with child. Yet…

  Darcy shook his head to clear his thinking. Attempting to discern any signs of Mr. Wickham’s print upon Elizabeth Bennet’s body would drive him to Bedlam. For too many nights, Darcy dreamed of her beneath him and the idea of Elizabeth giving herself to another set his teeth grinding. Instead, he concentrated on the possibility of her succumbing to Mr. Wickham’s questionable charms, and again he did not believe Miss Elizabeth possessed such pronounced insensibility.

  Certainly, the lady took him to task for his supposed treatment of Mr. Wickham, but Darcy always thought she would be just as passionate regarding the injustice if Darcy kicked a stray dog or treated his tenants poorly. Miss Elizabeth often expressed opinions not truly her own. Although the woman preferred Mr. Wickham’s practiced niceties to Darcy’s stammering attempts at flirtation, Elizabeth Bennet possessed too much intelligence to accept a marriage without love. She refused a perfectly acceptable marriage with Mr. Collins and with him.Surely she cannot love believe Mr. Wickham holds her with deep regard. He proved time and time again he seeks only enough funds to line his empty pockets. So why would Miss Elizabeth accept Mr. Wickham’s professions of love. Furthermore, my former friend customarily directs his practiced pleasantries to naïve innocents, such as my sister.

  “Such as my sister.” Darcy rolled the phrase over in his mind. “My fifteen year old sister.” Darcy’s eyes returned to the sleeping countenance of the woman he loved.As I would do anything in my power to protect Georgiana so would Miss Elizabeth act to protect her family. The woman would accept rumors of ruination to permit her sisters an opportunity to know happiness.Darcy smiled for the first time since hearing Elizabeth’s plea for him to assist her in finding Mr. Wickham.If the lady wishes to locate the scoundrel, so be it. I am anxious to prove my theory viable. Yet, if she thinks our relationship is at an end, Miss Elizabeth erred. What exists between us is not finished until I say it is.

  * * *

  “Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy waited for her in the upper storey of the inn in which they sought shelter for the evening. Having a late start from Derbyshire, the day passed quickly, but during their journey, Darcy came to several conclusions regarding Elizabeth Bennet: The most important of which was the complete impossibility of her having known George Wickham intimately. “May I have a moment of your time?”

  She diverted her eyes, an action Darcy expected, but still found vexing. In the coach, he knew Elizabeth studied him, as he did her. With slitted eyes, he observed her looks of longing and of regret: The lady was not as immune to him as she once was.

  “Can this not wait, Mr. Darcy? My aunt is below and desiring my company.” Elizabeth’s words were meant to chastise, but Darcy recognized the hint of desperation, which colored her speech throughout the day.

  “Mrs. Gardiner is comfortably settled in the private parlor below. I tended to your aunt personally,” Darcy assured.

  With a deep sigh of the inevitable, Elizabeth squared her shoulders.

  “You are most kind, Mr. Darcy. I apologize for my impertinence.”

  Darcy shortened the distance between them.

  “It is I who should apologize, Miss Elizabeth. I once again permitted my pride to choose my path. My disdain for Mr. Wickham colored my initial response. You are blameless.”

  A grimace crossed her lips, and Darcy noted the expression of guilt that momentarily claimed Miss Elizabeth’s features.

  “A woman is capable of making choices, Mr. Darcy. She does not require a man to tutor her.”

  Darcy kept the smile from his lips.

  “I believe you capable of many things, Miss Elizabeth, but even you would require lessons in intimacies.” Darcy edged closer and dropped his voice to a raspy whisper. “In such matters, you are an innocent.” He permitted his breath to caress her cheek.

  A streak of red rushed up Elizabeth’s neck, and Darcy knew the warmth of her body’s closeness.

  “We should not speak so familiarly, Mr. Darcy. It is unseemly.”

  Darcy ignored her protest. He planned to disassemble Elizabeth’s resolve.

  “I mean no offense, Miss Elizabeth.” His lips brushed her hair, and her color deepened. “I confessed my feelings previously.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” she murmured. “I must insist you…”

  “Insist I what, Miss Elizabeth?’

  With a great effort she took a step back.

  “Your apology…is accepted, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth stammered. “I realize my news was disconcerting. You must know I would not plead for your assistance if I possessed another alternative.”

  Darcy swallowed the desire present only seconds prior.

  “But another choice exists,” he said in sincerity.

  Elizabeth’s features crunched up in confusion.

  “Even if I would choose to go off to Scotland or America, my actions would not change the fact my father means to confront Mr. Wickham. If Mr. Bennet loses his life to Wickham, Mr. Collins would drive my mother and sisters from Longbourn. They would know poverty and no future.”

  At least, Elizabeth thought through the ramifications of what Mr. Wickham’s selfish perfidy would do to her family.

  “Exactly. Such is why I offer another solution.”

  “Another?” Elizabeth asked in suspicion.

  “Marry me,” Darcy said in triumph.

  His words had Elizabeth staggering backwards again.

  “I cannot marry you, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Why ever not?” Darcy argued for Elizabeth’s hand and attempted to ignore the deceit he practiced upon her. “My prospects are far better than Mr. Wickham’s. You viewed my estate: You will want for nothing.”

  “Nothing except a contended husband,” Elizabeth countered. “You did not consider your future. You would be giving Mr. Wickham’s child your name. What if it were a boy? Pemberley would pass to…

  Darcy pretended shock.

  “Needless to say, I cannot permit that to transpire.” Darcy looked off as if searching for a solution. Finally, he asked, “What if I am unsuccessful in locating Mr. Wickham in time?”

  “Then the Bennet name will know a
black mark forever. A mark you will never experience upon the Darcy name.”

  * * *

  “Thank God, Papa is safe.” Elizabeth sank upon the settle in her aunt’s drawing room.

  Her uncle lounged in a high backed chair.

  “Margaret insisted upon traveling on to Longbourn, and I previously convinced Mr. Bennet to leave this matter in my hands.”

  They arrived in Cheapside shortly after one, and Aunt Gardiner hustled Elizabeth’s father into Mr. Bennet’s waiting carriage. She meant to have her children in her embrace. All the talk of children rattled a long denied feminine urge in Elizabeth, and she encouraged her aunt to present an affectionate hug in Elizabeth’s name upon her own mother.

  “Now, explain to me this nonsense Margaret mentioned in haste. How could you permit Mr. Darcy to think you the one who succumbed to a scoundrel such as Mr. Wickham?”

  “It was not my intention to mislead Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth began. She blew out a sigh of exasperation. “When I visited with Charlotte Collins in Kent, Mr. Darcy attended his aunt at Rosings Park. Our paths crossed often. In one of our conversations, I accused Mr. Darcy of abusing Mr. Wickham. In his defense, Mr. Darcy shared a privacy with me–one where Mr. Wickham attempted to seduce another young innocent for her dowry.”

  “Mr. Darcy spoke of such depravity with you? My respect for the man sinks lower with each tale,” her uncle declared.

  “Please do not think ill of him, Uncle,” Elizabeth rushed to say. “I wish I could describe my relationship with Mr. Darcy.” She chuckled ironically. “We are both so stubborn, but as foolish as it may sound Mr. Darcy has become a dear friend. One with whom I often disagree,” she added quickly. “But one who speaks the truth, even when it is unpleasant to hear. My initial trust in Mr. Wickham’s goodness placed my family in a tenuous situation. I knew the length of his schemes, and I chose not to speak of it with my sisters and parents. I could have prevented this disaster.”

  “I would say the fault lies with your youngest sister,” Uncle Gardiner insisted. He studied her features for a few elongated seconds. “Was the victim of Mr. Wickham’s previous deception someone we know?”