by Webb, Brenda
“Elizabeth?”
She murmured but did not wake, so he reached to cup her face. Immediately he became alarmed—she was running a fever! Now the need to return her to her family’s care was even more urgent.
“Elizabeth!” he said louder. Her eyes opened and despite the clear evidence of the fever in her slow, affected speech, she tried to smile at him.
“Fitzwilliam, why are you up so early? Can we not sleep until the household awakens?”
William was taken aback. “The household?”
Sighing lazily, her eyes closed once more. “Have you forgotten already?”
He would have smiled at her misconception, had it not been so painful for him or had she not been sick. “I fear you are dreaming. We were caught by the rain and found shelter in this cabin. But the storm has ceased, and it shall be getting light soon. We must get you home before the waters recede entirely and they begin a search. It would not do for anyone to find us together under these circumstances.”
“But what will it matter?” she murmured sleepily, not opening her eyes. “We are married.”
William’s heart lurched. How he longed to tell her he would gladly marry her, but he could not. Instead, he began to slip his arms under her. “I am going to lift you, and as I do, try to put your arms about my neck.”
As he picked her up, she studied him dreamily, murmuring, “My home is with you.” Then she laid her head on his shoulder and promptly went back to sleep, no doubt as a result of the fever.
Just as he began towards the door with Elizabeth in his arms, the sound of heavy footsteps announced the presence of someone coming up the small front steps, and a man’s shadow filled the doorway. William found himself holding his breath as the front door was pushed open and a familiar voice rang out.
“Darcy, what the devil!” He rushed towards them. “What has happened to Miss Elizabeth, and why are you here with her?”
William had never been happier in his life to see Charles Bingley and he let go of the breath he was holding.
“It is a long story Charles, which I shall be happy to tell while we make our way to Longbourn. But in short, I pulled Miss Bennet from the middle of a raging stream as she clung to an old tree trunk that fords it. We spent the night here due to the severity of the storm, and I have just now discovered that she has a fever. I desperately need to get her home before anyone sees us or her condition worsens.”
“Yes, the locals say that even the small bridge between Netherfield and Longbourn is covered with water when it storms as it did yesterday, and no one can cross until it recedes.”
“Then let us pray the bridge is passable now and that Mr. Bennet was unable to arrange a search party. It is such a relief to know that you will be accompanying me, as I believe he shall react more rationally.”
“I would imagine you are relieved. And I will be most pleased to hear your explanation before he kills you.”
William was almost to the barn when Charles made his jest, and he turned to confront Bingley, Elizabeth still in his arms. “I am glad that one of us sees humour in this situation. I do not wish to duel Miss Elizabeth’s father.”
“I am only trying to lighten your mood, Darcy. It does not take a scholar to see that Mr. Bennet is very protective of her. I just hope he takes the time to listen to your explanation before …” Charles’ voice trailed off.
“Yes,” William agreed. “Let us pray he is a man who listens before he acts.
~~~*~~~
Longbourn
Mr. Bennet’s study
William felt almost like a schoolboy under Mr. Bennet’s glare, but he would not be the first to look away. He had done nothing wrong, and he was not about to be treated as though he had. Suddenly a knock garnered the older man’s attention, and the impasse was temporarily broken as he looked towards the door with a glare that questioned what interloper dared interrupt his interrogation of the gentleman he held responsible for compromising his daughter. As the door slowly opened, William was stunned to see Bingley’s head enter the room before the rest followed. After all, Mr. Bennet had summarily dismissed Charles when he demanded William’s presence in his library after seeing his daughter to her room.
“Mr. Bingley,” Thomas Bennet began, “I am afraid that I shall have to ask you once more to wait in the parlour.”
Charles would not be dissuaded as he shut the door. “I feel that I should have a part in this discussion; after all, it was I who discovered my friend and your daughter at the tenant’s shack this morning.”
Mr. Bennet considered the red-headed man with great dissatisfaction before he conceded. “Very well, come in. But I warn you that I shall have my answers from this gentleman.”
Charles moved forward to take the seat next to William. They both faced Mr. Bennet, who sat behind his desk. Without bothering to speak to Charles, he turned back to William, addressing him sarcastically as he had been doing since the interrogation began.
“Now, you were saying.”
William’s demeanour was not conciliatory. He took an exaggerated breath, puffing up his cheeks and blowing it out, hoping to convey his displeasure at her father’s intimations.
“As I tried to explain previously, I was not at Oakham Mount to meet your daughter. I had no way of knowing that she was in the vicinity, and it was just a coincidence that I was surveying the last of Netherfield’s tenant houses and was in the area.”
“That is correct!” Charles interjected, causing the two to glance his way. “Darcy set out alone early yesterday morning to survey the last of the structures, as I was too tired to accompany him after the ball.”
William was far too weary to object to his friend’s attempt to be helpful, so he ignored him and continued. “And the only cottage left to inspect was at the base of Oakham Mount, where the two properties meet. As I arrived in that area, the storm began in earnest, and my only thought was to find shelter. It was a miracle that I came across your daughter at all.”
Mr. Bennet rubbed his chin uneasily. Perhaps the man had been telling the truth and was not the scoundrel that he had painted him when he arrived this morning with his favourite daughter in tow. Learning that the bridge was now passable, he had just sent a servant to saddle his horse when he had found himself squinting at the shape of two riders barely visible in the distance, against the backdrop of the breaking dawn. And by the time they entered the drive to Longbourn, he knew that it was Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy and that each carried something on his horse.
He stood as if in a trance until he could make out that Bingley transported Elizabeth’s small white goat and that Mr. Darcy held his daughter. Moreover, whereas Bingley looked rested and well dressed, he noted that Darcy hardly looked like the man he had met at the ball. He was unshaven, his hair uncombed and his clothes dishevelled. Elizabeth’s appearance was equally disturbing. That observation and the fact that she was feverish combined to push his temper to the edge of reason. Consequently, he had not expressed gratitude towards Elizabeth’s rescuer, but instead, had fired accusations at him the minute they entered the privacy of his library.
Now as he studied Darcy anew, Mr. Bennet had to admit that having been up all night fretting about Elizabeth and trying to calm his wife might have rendered him swift to judge. However, he was not of a mind to admit that to Mr. Darcy just yet.
“So you contend that you followed some wild dogs, who were chasing the goat, and found Elizabeth stranded in the middle of a stream, trying to shield that kid from the pack?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hmmm.” Mr. Bennet studied his desk top for a moment before challenging him again. “And you maintain that you were barely able to rescue her and the animal from the swollen waters.” William’s head nodded in agreement. “Then somehow you managed to find this tenant cottage in the middle of a driving rain, and you decided it was best if you both spent the night?”
“Yes, sir. Your daughter mentioned that the bridge was most likely underwater, and even had it not been
, it would have been impossible to get there during the downpour that followed.”
“I would imagine she was soaking wet. How did you manage to keep her warm?”
“I started a fire with the scant firewood left near the hearth and broke up a few old chairs to add to it. There was a horse blanket in the barn that I spread over an old straw mattress. Then I wrapped her in both my coats.”
The way the man stared, William was unsure whether Elizabeth’s father was impressed with his ingenuity or still very irritated with him. Finally he spoke.
“I suppose you know that Mrs. Bennet is already demanding that you marry Elizabeth?”
Bingley turned to stare at his friend. Noticing his friend’s wide eyes and shocked expression, William addressed him. “I will deal with this, Charles.”
Mr. Bennet studied both men, wondering what in the world they were speaking of and was totally unprepared for what William said next.
“Were it possible, I would gladly marry your daughter, but I am afraid that circumstances prevent me from doing so. However, Bingley and I have discussed the situation and feel there is no need for alarm. No one at Netherfield knows I was out all night, thanks to Charles’ quick thinking. He tries never to let his sisters know anything that may promote gossip, especially about me. Thus, he informed the servants this morning that he had admitted me to the house late last night and that I would be in my room all day and was not to be disturbed. His sisters are to be informed of the same tale once they awaken.
“I was readying to bring Miss Elizabeth home when Charles found us, and we made quick work of getting here. You have apparently not had time to let anyone know that your daughter was missing, thus only you and your family are aware of the impropriety. Therefore, if you tell no one and your servants are trustworthy, there will be no scandal. I shall follow Charles back to Netherfield, where he will assist me in slipping into the house via a back stairwell and then into my room. There will be no compromise and no need to marry.”
Elizabeth’s father considered all that William had said before responding. “This plan just might work. I trust my servants explicitly—they love my Lizzy and would do nothing to harm her. I will have to make sure that my wife does not ruin it with her loose tongue, however. Now, would you kindly answer one question for me?”
William’s jaw tightened and he grimaced, knowing what was to come.
“You have stated that you would gladly marry Elizabeth if you could. I assume from the way that you observed her at the ball and from your pronouncement, that you are fond of her.” He waited but William’s only response was to study his shoes. “Might I ask why it is not possible for you to marry her?”
“I am already married.”
Mr. Bennet came to his feet, his face now crimson with anger. “You… you are married! You have apparently pursued my daughter the whole time you have been in Meryton, first at the bookshop and then at the ball, and you are already married?”
William stood now, his voice rising. “I never pursued Eliz… Miss Elizabeth!”
Bingley jumped to his feet interjecting, “This is ridiculous! I know Darcy well enough to know he would never dishonour your daughter, or any other woman for that matter, nor would he knowingly raise their expectations. Frankly, sir, you have no idea what this man has had to endure in the past two years.”
The older man’s glare swung between Bingley and William. “Then I suppose one of you should enlighten me, as we shall not leave this library until you do! As her father, I see things a great deal differently than the two of you, and I demand an explanation this instant!”
“I am not in the habit of discussing my private concerns,” William answered, his voice eerily flat.
Bingley interrupted impatiently, “This is not the time to be restrained, Darcy. He thinks you are a cad of the worst kind! At least tell him that you have never lived with that woman, that she is your wife in name only!”
With Charles’ disclosure, Mr. Bennet sat back down, his anger diminishing a bit as he studied the obviously uneasy young man before him. “I pride myself on being able to sketch a man’s character, and from our first meeting, I believed you to be a gentleman. If there is any explanation for your behaviour, I am ready to listen to it now.”
William sat down wearily, dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. He was not used to sharing his personal affairs with anyone, certainly not a perfect stranger. Nevertheless, he admired Mr. Bennet’s determination to protect his daughter, just as he had always tried to protect Georgiana. They were kindred spirits in that regard and it pained him that Mr. Bennet might think him less than honourable in his intentions towards Elizabeth. Having resolved the issue in his heart, he lifted his head. “I will tell you the situation regarding my marriage, if you will swear never to reveal a word of it to anyone. You have to understand that this is very difficult for me, as I love my parents, flawed though they were.”
“You have my word as a gentleman.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, William began. “A little over two years ago, before my father died, I was in London with him. One afternoon while I was at my club, I received a summons to an unfamiliar address, ostensibly to assist my father. When I arrived at this townhouse, I found him being treated by a physician for a sudden heart ailment. The house belonged to a widow, Lady Gisela Grantham, with whom I was familiar. I met her about six months before at a dinner party, where she was brazen enough to follow me onto a balcony and suggest we have an affair. I refused but she would not take no for an answer. She began to appear wherever I happened to be—dinner parties, the opera, even Hyde Park—and repeated her offer. That was when I realised that I had to be blunt. I told her plainly that I could never be interested in someone like her, and she was the last woman in the world I would bed. Apparently, she had decided to retaliate against me by seducing my father. I had him transported to our townhouse as soon as it was feasible, and when he was able to travel, I took him home to our estate, Pemberley, in Derbyshire.
“A little over a month later, this woman had the audacity to come to Pemberley. Luckily, I was able to intercept her and direct her into the study where she informed me that she was carrying my father’s child. She demanded that I marry her or she would see to it that my mother learned of the paternity of the child. At that time, my mother was in very ill health and would likely not have survived this revelation. I also had the welfare of a twelve-year-old sister to consider. After discussing the matter with my father, I was told that the child could indeed be his. Thus, I felt I was left with no choice but to purchase her silence with marriage, howbeit a marriage in name only.
“Three months after the marriage, my father’s weakened heart failed and he died, and my mother expired shortly thereafter. By then it was obvious that Gisela was not with child, so I instructed my solicitor to begin drawing up the documents to annul the marriage. That was when she produced a letter written by my mother that would seal my fate.”
William stood quickly, moving to the windows to stare out into the gardens as he continued. “I was shown only an excerpt, but I recognised her handwriting. How Gisela could have come into possession of it is a mystery.” He hesitated, his voice barely discernable. “Nothing that I will relate to you now can change the fact that my mother was the most gentle, kind and godly person I have ever known. She put her family’s needs above her own, and I will always revere her memory.” Looking over his shoulder, he saw Mr. Bennet nod so he continued.
“Before my father’s death, he spoke to me of his relationship with my mother, including the miscarriages she had suffered. He credited his fear that she would perish if she had another child as the impetus for his liaisons with other women, although I refuted that justification. In any event, he said that because of his seeming abandonment of her, my mother had sought solace with another man—an old friend that he refused to name and who fathered Georgiana. Apparently the letter Gisela acquired names my sister’s father, and she swears that if I attempt to sev
er the marriage, she will make this information public.”
William turned, his voice rising as he walked towards Mr. Bennet. “My parents’ deaths were a cruel blow from which Georgiana is just now recovering. As her sole guardian, I refuse to let anything else destroy her.”
“So you have no relationship with this woman—your wife?”
“Our arrangement specifies that she live at her own residences, an estate in Derbyshire and a townhouse in London that she inherited from her late husband, Lord Grantham. It stipulates that there will be no children from our marriage. I, in turn, pay all expenses for the residences and give her an allowance. She has my name, not my respect or my love.”
“And now? Surely you want a son to inherit Pemberley?”
“Georgiana and her children are allowed to inherit Pemberley. That is how it has always been.”
The older man studied William intently. “It seems you have taken upon yourself burdens that were not yours to bear, all in order to protect your family. I can respect you for that, but I do not feel you were entirely honest with my daughter or me. Why were you silent regarding your marriage when you arrived in Meryton? ”
William stared wistfully at the sun now rising over the horizon. “The question never arose, but had it, I would not have lied.” He turned to face his accuser. “From the moment I met your daughter, I was captivated by her intelligence and unaffected manner. Against my better judgement, I convinced myself that we could be friends. Yet, when you and I talked at the ball, it was obvious that you had already recognized deeper feelings—feelings I had not acknowledged. And I knew that if you had discerned my admiration, then she most likely had or would. Rather than hurt her, I determined that I must leave Meryton immediately. That was the purpose of my being out so late yesterday—to finish the survey.”