“I did not. I also imagined you unable to enjoy the company of puppies. In fact I believe I was quite certain that you…” Elizabeth blushed, deciding the joke she wished to tell was too much.
“What were you certain about me?” He smiled that distracting, dancing smirk.
“Uh…”
“Please tell me? What did you imagine I did?”
“You went around biting the heads off of puppies.”
“Did you?” Darcy raised his eyebrows.
Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded vigorously. “Puppies. Heads. Biting. I thought you were a troll who lived under a bridge — the bridge was named Pemberley — and that you came out to attack children and puppies.”
“That… It is completely untrue. I have owned many puppies. I find them adorable. And I never ate any of them.”
“Not even one?”
“No.”
Elizabeth poked her tongue into the side of her mouth. “Pity. You would be far more interesting if you had.”
Darcy now giggled. He lowered his voice and caught Elizabeth’s eye. “I do have a shameful confession to make.”
She nodded seriously. “But not about harming puppies.”
“No. About your other accusation.”
Elizabeth blinked in confusion, having no idea what Darcy was talking about.
He held her eye and said solemnly, “In fact, I am one eighth troll. But we never speak of that branch of the family.”
“Ohhhhh. A shameful relative!”
“Lady Catherine takes after them. You can see the resemblance in her easily. She is three eighths troll.”
“You can see the resemblance! Tell Emma. She will be delighted to learn that she was right.”
“Emma believes Lady Catherine to be part troll?” At Elizabeth’s nod he turned to the girl who had circled round the sandy field and was coming towards them again. “Fine form! Fine form!”
The girl beamed and waved at them as she jauntily rode the animal towards them. Darcy leaned towards Elizabeth and said, looking into her eyes once more, “I must get her a second pony. She shows great perception.”
Elizabeth laughed.
Emma came close, and Darcy and she exchanged words about the pony.
Elizabeth began to feel guilty about insulting the woman who was now her patron. Lady Catherine did believe in physical discipline for Emma, but she did not go to extremes. Elizabeth had heard stories of parents who’d treated their children far more horribly.
Not every woman would have accepted an illegitimate ward, even if they were the only relative, and most women would not have hired Elizabeth. Her servants largely liked the lady. She demanded subservience, but the lower orders had been bred and trained to provide it. They did not mind being told to be more subservient.
“I should not laugh at Lady Catherine. You must be curious, about my sister Lydia. You have cause to hate your aunt, but I should not. She hired me, even though she knew all of the particulars.”
“You need not tell me. It does not matter.”
“You say that — I even believe you — but any change will be for the worse. Surely you do wish to know the details.”
Darcy put his hand over Elizabeth’s and she felt a fluttering at seeing their bodies so closely together. “It is only curiosity. I will not judge. Not her, and certainly not you.”
“You have my leave to judge Lydia — Lord! I judge her.” Elizabeth smiled at Darcy. “I hate it when I say that word: ‘Lord.’ I can hear my mother — it was her favorite word during our annus horribilis. ‘Lord! If only you girls had married,’ ‘Lord! If only my husband had been immortal!’ ‘Lord! If only my brother had not trusted the wrong man’ — by the way, the bankruptcy was more my uncle’s fault than that of any of his partners. They all made mistakes.”
“Business matters always involve risk. I am sorry for him — your affection for him is clear.”
“He is a good man, and he is struggling to pay back the partners who trusted his scheme, even though he is now quite poor.”
Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “He must be deserving of your praise, for you do not praise lightly.”
Elizabeth flushed. “I’ve praised undeserving people — you know that.”
“But you did not do so lightly.”
Elizabeth giggled and bit her lip. She loved how he had learned to tease her and could turn her words around. “I was heavy in foolishness at the time. I’ve learned to be…not more discerning, but more able to accept my ability for error since then. I was quite wrong about you.”
“You were not. That day was the most valuable of my life, and the most painful except that of my father’s death.”
“You took my words so seriously?”
“The memory has been a precious torment to me, but more precious than torment.”
Elizabeth pulled her lip under her teeth and smiled. “You turned it to good account. I like to hear that I had such an influence over a man — my pride is not completely dissipated — I needed to learn as well. The mistakes were not just yours—” Elizabeth looked into his eyes again. “However, honesty compels me to give you a large share of the mistakes.”
Darcy laughed merrily, his eyes brightening.
They both quieted and looked into each other’s eyes. Darcy turned his eyes to check on Emma and the groom shadowing her.
He didn’t move his hand away from hers.
Elizabeth looked down. His large hand and its smooth leather riding glove covered her much smaller fingers. “I want you to know about Lydia. I trust you to. I have learned that I can trust you.”
“You can always trust me. I swear that.”
“Lydia went to Brighton — I already told you that. And then she fled with Wickham. You have heard that part.”
“It was my fault. If only I had exposed him—”
“And you already said that to me. It is ridiculous though. Lydia begged him to take her with him. She wanted an intrigue, even if she expected marriage then. Wickham simply was the man she chose.”
Darcy had a steady gaze that stayed on her face. She met his eyes again. “Lydia behaved poorly because it was in her character to do so. That is not your fault.”
“What happened next?”
There was something in his eyes that made butterflies fill her stomach. He looked so compassionate and understanding, and caring. It made Elizabeth want to cry with some sort of relief. “The normal matter. You know this was when my father died. He set out with Colonel Forster to track them along the road to Scotland. There was no evidence of them upon the Great Northern Road. So they looked about for evidence in London. This continued for some time. We never found evidence then of where she had been.”
“You should have come to me. I would have had some idea where to look for him. And if I found them, I would have made Wickham marry her.”
“You! The idea never occurred to me.”
“I wish it had. I wish you…you said you trusted me. If ever you are in such desperate need of help, trust me. I will do whatever I must to rescue you from it.”
Elizabeth laid her hand on his shoulder. She felt his thick muscles through the thin cotton fabric of his summer coat. Elizabeth felt some spiritual force jumped betwixt them at her touch. There was something intense in his eyes. He felt it too. She said, “I should have gone to you.”
“You only knew a proud and arrogant man.”
“I was wrong.”
“No. It is that I have changed.”
“You have, but you always would have helped us to find Lydia.”
“Yes.” He was quiet and stared into her eyes.
Elizabeth broke the connection between them, remembering that they were in public, and the groom who was watching after Emma certainly could see them. She looked emptily towards the field, feeling her stomach fluttering and flying high. She was full of happiness.
Darcy quietly asked, “Lydia, did she return to your family after Wickham tired of her?”
“Onl
y after Papa died.”
Darcy put his hand on hers again.
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes to keep back tears. “Thank you for being so comforting. It took him quickly. So quickly that…that there was no time. I never saw him again. When I went to the north, we’d parted on poor terms because I’d argued with him to not allow Lydia to travel. Maybe he pushed himself so hard to find her because he didn’t wish to return to me and admit he’d been wrong.”
“It was not your fault.”
“I know, but I…when I think of it, I feel bad. As though it was my fault. Other things were my fault. We lost the house because of me.”
“It would have been ridiculous for you to marry Collins.” Darcy spat the name out in a disgusted voice.
Somehow it made Elizabeth feel better.
The two fell silent. Elizabeth looked at Emma. The girl trotted the pied pony up to the fence. “Lizzy! Did you see how I have kept such a good control over her?”
“You will make a fine horsewoman, quite unlike me.”
Emma said proudly, “I will teach you once I am sufficiently skilled, and then you will be the apprentice and I the teacher.” The girl giggled and winked at Elizabeth and rode off.
Elizabeth shook her head in amusement. She said to Darcy, “Thank you once more for providing this for Emma.”
Darcy said, “That was why you arrived that morning to nurse Miss Jane with muddy skirts and a sweaty dress. I had wondered why you hadn’t ridden.”
Elizabeth hit Darcy’s arm. “Shame. Shame for reminding me that I ever looked so poorly in front of you.”
Darcy smirked back at her. “Poorly? I admired your appearance excessively. You looked exceptionally fetching.”
They looked into each other’s eyes again. He had such blue irises. Darcy recollected himself this time, as the sound of hooves came closer again. He looked away.
Elizabeth looked down. “I ought to complete the scandalous story about my sister. Fever took my father, then Wickham abandoned her. When he did, Lydia was visibly with child. She lived with my aunt and uncle for a time, but she did not like the rules they placed on her behavior. We all lived with them then. The house was crowded, and my uncle’s trade had already begun to fail. Money was tight, and Lydia received no ribbons, spending money, or little comforts that she had always been used to.”
“You had lost them too.”
“Yes, but I could be a philosopher about the matter. Mostly — fine goose pens, I really miss the best pens. It is a small thing, but…”
“It is the small things that matter most.” Darcy smiled at her. “And I know what present to give you for your birthday.”
Elizabeth blushed. “That was not a request.”
“Which is why it will be all the sweeter to fulfill it — I would hope, should I suffer reverses, that I would act as nobly as you.”
“Shame, Mr. Darcy, you shall give me a quite large head. Shame.”
“I should only be shamed because I barely praise you halfway to your due.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I adore how you can say such with a straight face.”
He looked disconcerted. Elizabeth grinned happily, even though she was telling the story of Lydia, she was happy.
She looked back out at Emma, who waved at her, but continued to make the pony prance her way around the yard. “After the birth of the child — it was an easy birth — she left the house and her child. We did not know anything of her for some months. Then she sent a letter to Kitty explaining how she had become the mistress of a middling gentleman, and that there was a neighbor of her patron who would be quite pleased to look at Kitty as a prospect. Lydia wrote that Kitty should come immediately, so that they could be together again.”
“That—” Darcy whistled and shook his head. “That is… At least she showed a little concern for her sister — I recall seeing them stick together a great deal.”
“I believe Lydia would have gained a fee as a procuress. Maybe your interpretation is true — Lydia since has changed her patron twice, or that is how often she has written to us of changing him. She once wrote for money. But after our refusal, she found a new patron. We have not heard of her for six months now…”
Despite how she trusted Darcy, now that she had finished the story, Elizabeth found it hard to look at him.
He touched her hand again, and then moved it away when she looked at him. “I could not possibly judge any person by the behavior of their relations. Not any longer. It would be the rankest hypocrisy.”
Elizabeth blinked. “What your sister did — she never did anything else, simply agreeing to an elopement is not—”
“I speak of Lady Catherine.” Darcy’s face clouded, and he spat out the name like a vicious curse word.
“Oh.”
“There is nothing in your sister’s story so vile as how she has forced me into this engagement.”
“I…I wish you did not need to marry Anne. You are too good…” Elizabeth had a sudden vision of a world where he did not need to marry. Where he did not care about Georgiana more than himself and her. She bit her lip to keep from crying. But even then she could not be happy. When he married Anne, Lady Catherine would transfer Emma to his care, and then her Emma would be safe. It was so strange that Darcy’s marrying Anne would protect Emma. There was no way that they could all be happy.
“You are crying. Elizabeth — don’t cry…please, Lizzy…”
“You are not crying. One of us must cry. It is my place as the woman — but you feel the unfairness, the injustice, as clearly as I can.”
He raised a finger to brush the tears off her cheek, and then he drew it away as Emma came up on her pony. They were not alone.
Emma jumped off the animal and threw her arms around Elizabeth’s waist. “What is the matter? What is wrong?”
Emma glanced at Mr. Darcy with an accusing look.
Elizabeth pulled Emma tight against her. “I heard a sad story. But it is all right. But let me hold you for a while.”
Emma squeezed her back tightly.
Chapter Eleven
George Wickham smiled at the pretty maid who’d brought him upstairs the last time he visited Lady Catherine when he encountered her leaving a small village next to the Rosings. “Miss Pamela, do stop — that dress makes you appear delightfully smart and trim.”
Wickham took her hand and smiled at the girl’s eyes. He held her hand caressingly before he kissed it softly.
She giggled. “My mysterious gentleman friend! What brought your return?”
“I traveled all the way from London solely to gaze upon your face.”
She laughingly blushed and looked away. “I know you did not.”
“Perhaps gazing upon you is merely the best part of my trip — that is not merely a statement.”
She looked at him with a pretty flush.
Wickham suspected from Miss Pamela’s confidence when she laughed that while he might be able to convince her to kiss him, this was not a girl who would be easily seduced to give him free entertainment tonight.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Wickham darted forward and kissed her cheek. “I have a dreadful confession: It was to see your mistress that I left the capital.”
“No!” She laughed. “But you said it was for me! I shall never trust another man again. You wish me to help you come in through the back again? Is my Lady expecting you?”
“She is not. But I think she shall be glad to see me. Yes, the servant’s stairs, and I can hide in them until you bring her word. She knows our business is a matter of importance.”
Pamela giggled again. “You must tell me what this secretive matter is.”
“Nay, it is too secretive. Though perhaps—” Wickham put his hand on her head and brought her into kiss him. She pushed him away and wagged a finger, “You are a quite bad man.”
“Does that excite you?”
Pamela laughed. “I like you, but I know you do not have any honest intentions. I’ll not be
your game.”
Wickham shrugged. “That is wise of you. You should not trust me.” He pulled her head forward again, and this time she let him kiss her.
Pamela danced away from him. “Do tell! Do tell what the special matter is that you are engaged in with Lady Catherine.”
“Do tell, do tell. What is the special matter beneath your skirts?”
She snorted and shook her red face. “Be that way. I will imagine you are both engaged in smuggling. It makes you terribly romantic to think of you engaged in the Noble Trade and facing danger and those dreadful customs agents every week.”
Wickham winked at her. “Maybe I am a smuggler.”
They walked to the estate through the woods, and Wickham took two more opportunities to kiss the young woman, and she let him get a proper feel. However, while she was breathing quite heavily, she always waggled her finger in his face and stopped him before matters became too heated.
When they reached the house, Wickham looked about cautiously before he hurried into the back entrance. He was not precisely scared of Fitzwilliam Darcy…but he would really prefer not to meet the man.
Pamela led him again through the servant’s staircases to a door hidden by a painting that led into the Mistress’s sitting room. Wickham gave her a small note to hand to Lady Catherine. As she opened the door to the sitting room, he reached out quickly to pinch her on the bum. Pamela made no noise, but winked at him as she closed the door behind her.
When Pamela returned five minutes later, she was pale and whispered, holding the door open for him to enter, “Lady Catherine will see you, but she is not pleased.”
Wickham shrugged and walked in. Pamela closed the door, and Wickham wondered if she disappeared off to do her other duties, or was staying in the hallway to try to overhear their conversation.
Lady Catherine sat on her large chair with a scowl and a jewelry box open upon her lap that she sifted through. “What possible cause have you to disturb me. Our business is done.”
“Cathy! Cathy, dear. No friendliness? No greeting? Nothing but a demand to leave? I am hurt.”
Wickham looked about the room and decided to sprawl on her couch and then spread his legs and arms out as widely as possible.
The Trials: A Pride and Prejudice Story Page 9