by Suzan Lauder
The gentleman of choice was unaware and aimed his cheerful grin at her as he spoke aloud of what must be the start of his plan to achieve what Jane was avoiding. “I have not been down that path that falls behind your garden towards Oakham Mount. I am partial to exploring it. Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, could I interest you in showing it to Mr. Darcy and me?”
“It is chilly for walking.” Jane’s voice was chilly too.
“Nonsense, dear.” Mama spoke louder than perhaps necessary. “Lizzy tramps about the countryside every day, and she has had no ill effects. You can wear her warmest pelisse—the chestnut one with the fur at the hood.”
Jane gaped at her with dismay, and my mother realized her mistake at the same time. Jane had been enjoying her meals too much lately and could in no way fit into my pelisse. “I cannot take it from Lizzy, Mama, else she will have nothing warm enough to wear. I shall stay behind.”
We all regarded her with varying degrees of horror as we knew she was the key to this walk with Mr. Bingley.
I scrambled for an idea to convince her to be part of the group. “Dear Jane, it is not so bad, and you know the flora far better than I. I imagine the gentlemen wish to be educated on the wild grasses of Hertfordshire, and we need you to edify them. If you wear your new shawl over your lovely blue pelisse—the one that matches your eyes—you will be comfortable enough.”
My words had less of an effect on Jane than Mr. Bingley’s enthusiasm. “Say you will, Miss Bennet. We shall make a fine group, the five of us.”
“Oh, no, I am no walker,” Mama demurred, “thus, it must be a foursome.” She winked at me, and it required all my restraint not to roll my eyes. She clearly wanted me to distract Mr. Darcy so Jane and Mr. Bingley could be alone. Little did she know that Mr. Darcy was of the same mind—at least that is what I gleaned from his whispered conversation with Mr. Bingley. I almost giggled at the idea of Mr. Darcy and me bungling our mutual efforts to draw one another away from Jane and Mr. Bingley only to end up stuck to them more than ever.
We made short work of tugging on warm clothing for the walk, and Mr. Darcy wasted no time in the offer of his arm. The sun was nearing its height for the day, so the frost had melted off the lawns. Whilst Jane was describing our kitchen garden to Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy pointed out an object in the distance that he wished to see and took off with haste on long legs. He did not understand the environs, and before I could protest, he led the two of us towards Lucas Lodge rather than the intended route. Shock at what lay ahead brought us to an abrupt halt.
If I had not seen it, I would not have believed it! Mr. Collins and Charlotte were in an embrace with his back up against the bark of an oak tree, their lips pressed together and his well-shaped hands stretched over her full, round bottom. It had been difficult enough for me to believe she would affiance herself to this silly man, but when his mouth was otherwise occupied, I found the scene rather…stimulating.
Mr. Darcy must not have felt the same as he rotated us rather like a wheel towards Jane and—
Good heavens! Mr. Bingley and Jane were engaged in a similar sort of embrace, and though his hands were rather more discreetly placed on Jane’s back, one appeared to be creeping downward. Clearly, he had wasted no time with his words!
“That way, Mr. Darcy!” I ordered as I gestured towards the correct path that would weave through the woods to Oakham Mount, leaving the newly betrothed lovers to kiss as long as they dared.
Twenty paces for him—and a dozen more for me as I was nearly at a run by his side—and we stopped near a fork in the path.
“I should ask whether there are kissing couples to the left or to the right,” he quipped, and I laughed.
“I should hope that is the last of the kissing. However, I have not seen Mr. Wickham today, and your description of him at the ball made me believe he is rather free with his lips.”
Mr. Darcy actually growled! The sound was akin to our old cat that was always in a bitter mood unless eating or being petted. He would complain with a growl until stroking him would turn the growl to a purr. I had to get Mr. Darcy purring again, and taking his mind off Mr. Wickham would probably do the trick.
“Do you want me to tell you the Latin names of these plants, sir? They are lovely when in bloom even though they are old pods now. But they are rather attractive pods.”
My intended distraction had no effect, and with a stern expression, he ran his fingers through his hair. It did not become disordered but instead drooped more becomingly onto his noble brow, which was lined with unease. “Beware of Mr. Wickham, Miss Bennet. You are correct: he is far too free with the ladies, and there have been disgraceful intrigues attached to his name. I cannot call a man a gentleman when he attempts to seduce a young girl and convince her to elope to Scotland against her family’s wishes.”
“I do recall your mention of an alarming situation.”
“She was your sister Lydia’s age.”
“For this reason, I see sense in sheltering younger ladies from adult situations until they are seventeen or eighteen. Lydia is far too forward, and she could make a fool of herself should one without morals attempt to importune her.”
“Mr. Wickham is indeed that sort of a man.” His voice was low.
“They were stopped before they could elope; otherwise, he would have a wife by now.”
“You are a clever lady. Indeed, her family was fortunately told about the scheme prior to the couple leaving for Gretna Green. The girl was repentant, yet Mr. Wickham broke her heart when he found he could not access her thirty-thousand-pound fortune, which had been his enticement.”
At least my sister Lydia did not have that to recommend her. “The ladies in Meryton are safe. No one has a large fortune.”
“Do not let that circumstance lower your guard. I have had to assist young ladies…I have paid to support his…” He clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. Why was he so discomposed? “I am sorry; it is indelicate. And that is not the end of his intrigues.”
I recalled part of the discussion at the Netherfield Ball. “You mentioned that you abhor young men who are gamesters when they have had four thousand pounds to play with.”
He shook his head. “That is true, but what I mean is that I abhor young men who trifle with innocents, whether they be servants, tradesmen’s daughters, or gentlewomen. Some men are indiscriminate in their kisses, but no promises precede or follow them, leaving ladies distraught.”
“Oh, my word!” I am sure I must have blushed at a tale of that nature, but I had heard stories of unfortunate fallen ladies. The knaves who put them in that position were not affected, and it seemed exceedingly unfair to me. Was Mr. Wickham such a scapegrace?
“You may believe you know him well, and this must be a shock. I do hope your heart has not been involved. You seem the sort of young lady who would not give her kisses away, but Mr. Wickham would steal them and more.” Mr. Darcy’s countenance was most serious.
He was mistaken about any warm regard I may have had for Wickham, and I had to ensure he understood the truth of the situation. “My heart? No, no, nothing of the sort. I spoke to him at length on one occasion, but the party was so distracting that I had little time to dedicate to the discussion. I do need to clarify what you and I were unable to speak of directly at the dinner a few days ago. May I ask a question?”
“Do go ahead.”
“Did Mr. Wickham get paid for the living only to return to claim it? Is that why he can say you denied it to him without prevarication?”
“It is. He was unsuited to making sermons and said so. He wanted to try the law, and the three thousand pounds I paid him was to help his studies. He even signed a paper relinquishing the living.”
“My goodness, he is a bold one to make demands in light of a signed agreement as well as to misrepresent the entire situation in order to discredit you wit
h the people of Meryton. Why would he do this?”
He waved one hand as if brushing away something unseemly. “I am no longer a resource to hide his mistakes or fund his gaming, and he resents me. That is the one reason I can understand.”
“Does he still importune you for money?”
He shook his head. “Not lately.”
“I suppose he tried to get funds from the family of that young girl. When he did not get her portion, he must have sought his fortune in other ways.”
“You mean claim lucre for his silence?” He shook his head. “That is too evil even for Mr. Wickham. As you have seen, he tries to live as a gentleman. The elopement was a surprisingly daring move given that he could have gone to gaol for that sort of action.”
“Oh yes, and worse if he forced her to be his wife.” In my tension, my hand was clutching my gown. I released it and brushed out the wrinkles.
“That is true. You seem to know this particular law. Did a similar event take place in Meryton?”
I was embarrassed to be caught having read law books. “No, I have only read of the law. I study what my father has on hand. Any topic interests me.”
“Ah.” He was silent for a time.
“I apologise. It is not what is expected of a gentlewoman, but we had no governess, just my father’s library.”
“No governess? That is unusual. Your mother did not act as one, I presume.”
“You presume correctly, other than instruction on ladies’ pursuits and how to set a good table. My father taught us languages and mathematics, and we read to learn whatever else we wished to know.”
“Do you enjoy novels?”
“I shall scandalise you and say ‘yes’!”
He smiled. One more for the count! “I am not so scandalised. My sister takes great pleasure in them too.”
“I should take pleasure in meeting Miss Darcy and comparing our opinions.”
“Just not in a ballroom.”
“You remember well. No books in a ballroom. It would be as odd as, say, a parasol in a ballroom.”
“Yes. I knew you liked to read, so I thought…it is of no matter. It is just that I…I…am not comfortable with conversations during a dance or with people I do not know well, so I often cause offence. As a result, they usually have the wrong impression of me.”
“Such as you prefer not to dance with ladies slighted by other men.”
His head dropped as he scuffed the hardened dirt of the path with one boot. “The one who made that comment was a fool who spouted off nonsense due to discomfort, and he should have known better than to choose a person unknown to him as his object for a rude retort. As fate would have it, he insulted the lady he would most hope to know better. Can you accept my apology?”
I nearly laughed at his dilemma, but that would only make him feel worse. But he wanted to know me better? I warmed considerably but could not credit it. “Of course I can. Since then, we have established that you can tolerate me.”
“More than tolerate…I…I—”
I held up my hand to stop his response. Poor Mr. Darcy! I had left him with no choice but to differ from his initial evaluation whether he felt that way or not. I would not force him to express an opinion that was not truly his own. “You need not flatter me with words to make up for the past. We do well enough talking together now even though we are not particularly suited.” I inhaled deeply and changed the subject. “Sir, we have been away a sufficient amount of time for Mr. Bingley to say what he wished to my sister, so we can safely return to the garden.”
“As you wish.” He spoke no more, but I was certain he had much more to say; he merely did not know how to say it. I sympathized with his difficulty speaking to people he does know well and did not push him further.
On our walk back, I asked a question that troubled me. “You have been useful to your friend in helping him to be alone with Jane. Why would you exert yourself so? I always thought you disapproved of my family.”
“Once you provided the key to your sister’s feelings, I was able to see her pleasure when she was assured of a dance with Bingley even though Collins attempted to wheedle his way in. Her affection for my dear friend over a far more comely man who will inherit Longbourn became clear to me. The least I could do was support Bingley’s choice. I should hope he would do the same for me.”
I remembered his engagement to his cousin. “I am sure he does.”
He halted alongside me, and I stopped to see what had interested him. He regarded me with a strange expression. “Miss Elizabeth—”
Before he could continue, Jane and Mr. Bingley cheerfully joined us on the path.
“You outstripped us, but it gave us an opportunity,” professed a beaming Mr. Bingley. “I shall leave Miss Bennet with you whilst I go to Mr. Bennet.”
I released my skirts from my clutch and brushed them down once again. I was overjoyed even though I had assumed as much when we found them kissing not ten minutes earlier. “I trust I understand the essence of your discussion with my father?”
“You may wish us joy!”
“Oh Jane!” I cried and embraced my sister. Mr. Darcy congratulated Mr. Bingley, and he whispered a few words to him before his friend went off. What could their secret be?
Jane, Mr. Darcy, and I had a leisurely stroll back to the house. We came off the path and into the clearing by the hermitage just as a large ornate coach with bold insignia and liveried servants rolled up the drive.
“Lady Catherine?” said Mr. Darcy incredulously as he stopped dead in his tracks. “What could she possibly be doing at Longbourn?”
Chapter 9
Mr. Darcy’s colour was heightened at his aunt’s arrival. He frowned and glared, his countenance betraying an unexpected level of discomfort for greeting a family member. In a rush of words to Jane and me, he pressed his hands to our backs to direct us past the carriage.
“Do hurry into the house. I shall speak to my aunt before she is announced. I can only imagine she seeks Mr. Collins since there is no other reason for her presence. I shall escort her to Netherfield once her business with him is complete.”
“I thank you for your assistance, Mr. Darcy,” I said, “but let me remain with you as a representative for my family. Jane can go ahead. I am sure she wants to hear of Mr. Bingley’s success before we entertain visitors.”
As Jane hurried towards the house, Mr. Darcy shook his head. “I do not think that is wise. Lady Catherine is a rather…strongly spoken woman. You must have your wits about you anticipating that she will question and lecture you to an extent that is unwelcomed. She has a meddlesome nature.”
“My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”
However, before my courage was able to face the test, the carriage and its beautifully matched horses were halted, and a middle-aged woman shouted out the window to Jane, who was not so light nor so much in the habit of running as I am. She had slowed and was panting for breath.
“You there! You must be Miss Bennet. Halt! I must speak to you.”
Jane obeyed the order, though I am certain she would have termed it a request. She moved to where she could greet the callers as they alighted from the carriage.
Lady Catherine was a large, stout lady. Her heavy silk and dark red gown swished as she strode over to Jane. The small, dull-complexioned person who followed was so significantly in contrast that I was wondering why a maid would be wearing such a high quality of dress when Mr. Darcy’s strong, deep voice greeted her as “Cousin Anne.” She must be Anne de Bourgh, his betrothed!
I found it odd that he had never mentioned his engagement to Miss de Bourgh; my intelligence came from others. Even odder was the indifferent manner in which they greeted one other with barely a glance. Their mutual response was less amicable than that of a beloved cousin, never mind
a couple who intended to marry. I felt sorry for their lack of affection. The marriage must have been arranged—a sad commentary regarding the gentry.
It made me proud that my parents showed less interest in imposing a union than encouraging one. Mama may be a matchmaker, but she had our best interests in mind. This sort of cold distance would not be her preference. She would encourage us to like a man rather than force us to marry where we had no affection. This was a small concession on my part towards her actions, yet it was the truth. Of course, she thought everyone must prefer Mr. Collins because he was so handsome and would inherit Longbourn. And everyone knows that good looks mean amiability. Obviously, my mother was not impartial in Mr. Collins’s case.
Lady Catherine’s strident voice brought me from my musings. “You are Miss Jane Bennet?” she enquired of my sister.
“I am. How may I help you?”
“I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and I am not to be trifled with. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that you, Miss Bennet, were on the point of being most advantageously married. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.”
“I do not understand. We only just—”
“Do not prevaricate. My source is most trustworthy. It seems you have captured him with your arts and allurements and are affianced to him. I demand you break this engagement at once.”
“I…I…” Jane looked at Mr. Darcy and me.
Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but I broke in to assist my sister. “If you believed it impossible to be true, I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?”