Trapped at Rosings

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Trapped at Rosings Page 20

by Emily Russell


  “So, that is why crop rotation is essential,” he declared loudly as he released her.

  “How fascinating,” Elizabeth declared as Mary walked into the room. “Thank you for explaining it in such detail.”

  Mary looked between them.

  “I shall play the pianoforte now. If Mr Darcy would like to hear my performance…”

  “I would love to, Mary. But I must speak with Elizabeth on important wedding business,” he said apologetically. Elizabeth smiled. It was an improvement on a few weeks ago when he might have agreed stiffly but made it clear he did it under sufferance.

  They went out into the garden and walked towards the woods.

  “How kind of you to explain crop rotation to a lady who grew up on a farm,” Elizabeth said as Darcy took her hand once they were out of sight of the house. “I am sure I never heard of such a thing before. You are so smart to explain it.” She batted her eyelashes with a vapid smile that provoked a laugh from Darcy.

  “That is precisely what Miss Bingley says when I say — well when I say anything. I could have told her wood comes from trees, and she would clap her hands and declare me a genius.”

  “But you are a genius! Wood comes from trees! Next, you will tell me wool comes from sheep, and I will faint away in awe at being in the presence of such intellectual power…” Elizabeth gave a laughing shriek as Darcy tried to catch her and pull her to him.

  “I shall teach you many things once we are married,” he promised in a voice that made Elizabeth weak before kissing her once again.

  They walked on, taking a little-known path so they might walk with their arms around one another without anyone coming upon them.

  “Speaking of Miss Bingley, did she have anything else to say?” Elizabeth asked as she rested her head on Darcy’s shoulder.

  Darcy gave a low laugh. “Oh, she had many things to say when I returned to Netherfield. I looked out of sorts and angry and she hung about me, talking about how nice it was that you and Wickham were so close and how comfortable you looked together alone in the garden. She was sure she felt quite bad for interrupting such a cosy conversation and perhaps we should have walked away and left you to continue talking. But then, you and he are such partial old friends.”

  “How considerate of her,” said Elizabeth. “To think of despairing of interrupting our conversation. That is Miss Bingley all over. The very soul of consideration. Well, I had the pleasure of seeing Wickham again this morning. He came with the pretence of returning one of Father’s books. I took great pleasure in questioning him on it and watching him try to pretend he had read it. Ah, he took great enjoyment in agreeing with all my points and exclaiming about how curiously of one mind we are. How wonderful our conversations and how we never run out of things to discuss! How lively our debates! To think of the fun we might have had recommending books to one another and eagerly discussing our opinions.” Elizabeth heaved a great sigh, a perfect impression of Wickham’s hangdog expression. “But of course that will not be possible now you, and I are to marry. All that must come to an end. Still, never mind.” Elizabeth giggled. “It is all I can do not to laugh. He really thinks I am regretting him. I sighed sadly as well and told him if only…” She closed her eyes and looked away in a dramatic display of maidenly confusion before laughing again. “He must think I am in love with him.”

  “It is a fine thing we know the other is acting, or I should be jealous,” said Darcy.

  “Well, you have no cause for jealousy when you know I delight in thwarting Wickham and that I only love you,” said Elizabeth.

  As they embraced again, they heard heavy boots tramping through the woods close to where they stood. They sprang apart.

  “Quick, speak of crop rotation again,” Elizabeth whispered with a grin. Darcy smiled but placed a finger to his lips.

  “It is probably a farmer,” he said. He peered through the trees and frowned. “Although farmers do not wear scarlet coats.”

  “Is it Wickham?” Elizabeth moved beside him to see where he pointed.

  On another path, a small one like theirs, Wickham walked swiftly. There was a certain triumphant look on his face.

  “He looks very pleased with himself,” said Darcy.

  “He always does when he’s not sighing and lamenting about all the wrongs you’ve done him,” said Elizabeth dryly.

  “Hmm. He is walking with purpose, and I believe he is walking towards Netherfield.”

  They looked at one another.

  “Should we…?”

  “Yes, we should.”

  Elizabeth knew the woods like the back of her hand. She led them along a path that ran parallel to Wickham’s. It allowed them to keep him in view without him seeing them. His bright coat only made it easier.

  “He is definitely going to Netherfield,” said Darcy. “I suspect he is going to see Miss Bingley.”

  “He is not going there for the architecture,” Elizabeth agreed.

  They hung back as the woods ended and Wickham entered the fields. He made a great show of trying not to be seen, and of keeping to the hedges as much as possible.

  “He would make an excellent spy,” said Elizabeth. “Nothing makes one blend in like keeping to the shadows and looking around furtively. He has missed his calling in life.”

  They had to do some keeping to the shadows of their own as they pursued him across the fields.

  Soon, they reached Netherfield. Wickham hurried towards an old barn that Darcy whispered was in little use. The outbuildings would be empty at that time of day while the grooms were out exercising the horses. Wickham disappeared inside.

  “I will go for Bingley,” Darcy whispered. “Whether or not he is seeing Miss Bingley, he cannot be up to any good by sneaking around.”

  Elizabeth agreed, and they rushed to the house as fast as they could before Wickham could leave.

  Chapter 29

  Miss Bingley had been pacing the barn and she sighed with relief when she saw Wickham.

  “I thought you were not coming,” she said, hurrying towards him. “I came here as soon as I sent a reply to your note.”

  “Forgive me. I had army business to attend to before I could leave. All that time spent with Elizabeth has affected my duties.” Wickham’s grin broadened. “But I must tell you, I think Elizabeth is in love with me. She hinted at her regret this morning when I told her our easy conversations must come to an end.”

  “Did she?” Miss Bingley’s face lit up. “Mr Darcy returned here last night with a face like thunder. He was out of sorts and grew even more so when I spoke of you and Eliza’s friendship. I would think he is all but ready to wash his hands of the whole affair.”

  “Excellent. I had faith in our plan, but I confess, I did not expect it to work so well. They are falling in line just as we wanted them to. What comes next will be far easier.”

  “And what is that?”

  “We must work together for that,” said Wickham. “Lydia tells me Darcy visits Longbourn every morning around ten o’clock. I will be there earlier and will find Elizabeth in the garden. I will declare my love for her, and if she feels for me as I suspect, she will be in such a state of confusion she will not pull away at once. I will embrace her, and that is when you shall come around the corner with Darcy.”

  Miss Bingley chewed her lip and pulled absently on a piece of straw hanging over the edge of an old cart. “It is risky. Elizabeth might rebuff you, and Darcy will see that instead. How do we know she will respond as you say?”

  Wickham smiled. “I do not mean to boast, and I hope nothing I say will shock you, but I am not inexperienced in the art of wooing women. A woman in fear of a loveless match is even more open to the affection she believes she will never experience once she is married. Elizabeth is already regretting what she will lose. If she does not fling herself in my arms, she will at least be too confused to pull away which will give me a perfect opportunity to embrace her.”

  “How will I know when is the right time? You
will not do it in full view of anyone, and if we are around a corner, I might arrive too soon.”

  Wickham nodded. “How about near a window then? You can make an excuse to leave the room and see when Elizabeth and I are talking. I will hold Elizabeth in my arms as long as possible, and you can call Darcy and tell him you have found Elizabeth. You will know the right moment. It will be when I take her in my arms like this…”

  He reached for Miss Bingley and pulled her to him. She flushed, and he smiled. God, he could never get enough of witnessing the effect he had on women. It was like air and water to him. Determined to fluster her even more, he pushed it a little further.

  “I will hold her thus…” he said, wrapping his arms around Miss Bingley’s waist and pulling her, so her body was against his. He saw the confusion in her eyes; the knowledge that she should behave like a lady and pull away with outrage conflicting with the desire to indulge her feelings and see what he would do next. He leaned closer to whisper “When you see my lift her chin like so…” He leaned in his lips inches from hers. Miss Bingley closed her eyes without realising it when a voice rang out.

  “What the devil are you doing?”

  Miss Bingley shrieked and pushed Wickham away at once. They turned to see Bingley staring at them, his face uncharacteristically flushed with rage. Beside him stood Darcy and Elizabeth and a groomsman as well as the clergyman of Meryton Church. Miss Bingley recalled he had promised to call on them, but she had forgotten his intended visit was today.

  And they had seen her in Wickham’s arms alone in a barn! Darcy had seen her. Miss Bingley stared at him in horror. Both he and Elizabeth looked startled by the scene they had encountered. How could she explain? There was no good angle to place on this. She could hardly admit they only met to scheme about Darcy and Elizabeth.

  She looked at Wickham helplessly, willing him to say something that would make it better. He blinked and seemed too astonished to move. All at once, she wanted to shout and shriek at him. Damn him, what was he doing, standing there like a fool? And why did he hold her like that? Why did he want to meet her at all? Why had he made her part of his ridiculous plan? She would have shoved him into the trough if she thought it would somehow get her out of this situation.

  “How dare you, sir,” she shrieked at him. “To handle me in such a manner! Charles, I insist you duel with him at once!”

  Wickham glared at her. “Come now, Caroline. I sent you a note asking you to meet me, and you replied that you would. It is not exactly a situation where you have been imposed upon. Mr Bingley, I have the note with me. You can see she suggested we meet here.”

  Miss Bingley gasped and stared at Wickham in horror.

  “You were a second away from kissing him,” said Bingley. “And you have no good reason for meeting a man in a barn.”

  “If she does, I would certainly like to hear it,” said Darcy. He folded his arms and leaned against the door, eyeing the pair with distaste. There was a slight smile about his lips. Miss Bingley had the uncomfortable sensation he knew something of their true motives for meeting. “Or perhaps Wickham would like to explain? I am sure he will regale us with an entertaining story. Whether it is the truth will be another matter.”

  Wickham tried to look unconcerned, but his mind worked fast. If he confessed the truth, Darcy had plenty of cause to use an effective weapon against him. After Wickham’s disastrous attempt to elope with Georgiana, Darcy kept letters of Wickham’s debtors as a way to keep him in check and protect his sister from him. If he thought Wickham still schemed and plotted against him, he knew he would call them in and then where would he be? The men he owed money to were not known for their tender hearts. Wickham would be lucky to escape with his life.

  He went with the lesser of two evils. He glanced at Miss Bingley. She was not an unattractive woman. Not as pretty or interesting as Elizabeth Bennet but she had a certain elegance about her. She would not disgrace him if he had her on his arm. Aside from that, she had the added attraction of bringing twenty thousand pounds to her marriage. Wickham could live a good life on that kind of money. If Miss Bingley proved to be the shrew she appeared, he could deposit her somewhere in the country while he enjoyed life in London.

  Mind made up, he grasped her hand. Miss Bingley looked at him in astonishment and tried to pull away.

  “I am in love with Miss Bingley,” he declared. He nodded at their disbelieving faces then gazed at his darling with a look of practised tenderness. “It is true. I love her, and I wish to marry her. And she feels the same way about me.”

  “That is not true,” cried Miss Bingley. All her dreams of marrying a wealthy man were vanishing before her eyes. Wickham was handsome, but a handsome face with bring her no credit in London. He was not a man she could boast to have by her side.

  “If that is not true, then what other reason can you have for meeting him here and embracing him in such a manner?” Bingley demanded.

  Miss Bingley opened her mouth and closed it, at a loss for words.

  “Do not fight how we feel, my love,” said Wickham gently.

  “I am not your love,” she screamed in response.

  “He is now.” Bingley’s voice was grim. “Or at the very least, he is your future husband. There can be no other course here but marriage. Come, let us return to the house that we might make these unpleasant arrangements.”

  It was a successful day’s work. Wickham reflected on it with satisfaction later that evening as he waited outside the study for Bingley to summon him. He was to marry a wealthy heiress as he always intended. Caroline had railed and screamed at him and all in all, made him suspect she would not be the pleasant, smiling wench at bed and board he had always envisioned for himself. If he were not sure he could leave her in some small country village and enjoy her fortune without her, he should have been a miserable man. As soon as they were wed, he would find a place as far north as possible to leave her.

  Bingley summoned him to his study. He had returned from Meryton some time ago after spending most of the day in the solicitor’s office, and there was no sign of his usual cheerful countenance. He looked tired and unhappy, and there was a certain air about him that made Wickham feel nervous. Darcy was there, and he had a grim smile on his face which only increased Wickham’s apprehension.

  “Well, we did not have much time, but I have spoken with Mr Phillips, and we arranged the documents for the marriage agreement. I had already entrusted some of my business to him last winter when I intended to stay in Hertfordshire, which simplified matters. It is important I protect my sister’s interests and have the matter resolved as soon as possible,” said Bingley. He held up the document and pushed it towards him.

  “Of course,” said Wickham solemnly.

  “The clergyman will read the banns. It is all over town by now that you and my sister are to marry.”

  Wickham nodded. In a rural community like this, he expected no less. Gossip would spread like wildfire here.

  He took the pen and dipped it in ink to prepare to sign.

  “Perhaps you’d like to read the agreement first,” Bingley suggested.

  Wickham gave his future brother a wounded look. “As long as this agreement allows me to marry the woman I love, that is all I need to know,” he said, piously. The agreement was probably ten pages at least, no doubt filled with boring legalese. No time to waste reading it when all he needed to do was sign his name, and he was a rich man.

  “Are you sure, Wickham? Is it not imprudent even for you to sign without reading?” asked Darcy in a droll voice. He leaned against the mantelpiece with his arms folded, an odd smile on his face. Wickham smiled at an opportunity to jab the knife in.

  “Some of us have no doubts about who we marry, Darcy. Not all of us dread a life with our betrothed.”

  Darcy shrugged.

  Satisfied that his point had hit home, Wickham signed the agreement and stood back with a contented sigh. All Miss Bingley’s wealth was his.

  “There are a fe
w articles not found in the usual marriage settlement,” Darcy said smoothly. “I am confident it will support you and Miss Bingley in having an excellent marriage.”

  Wickham’s heart pounded. Good God, had Bingley added even more money to Miss Bingley’s fortune? He might do for his only unmarried sister. His luck had changed indeed.

  “It seems the late Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley’s father was a prudent man,” Darcy continued. “You see, he has a provision that all Miss Bingley’s fortune would remain hers on marriage. And there is another clause. You and Miss Bingley must live together as man and wife for at least the first five years, or all the interest of her fortune goes to her. You will see none of it.” Darcy’s smile widened as Wickham stared at him in horror. Down the hall, he could hear the sounds of a tantrum, screams punctuated by smashing china. “Well, no doubt you will wish to rush to your bride at once,” said Darcy casually. “And from my heart, Wickham, may I wish you every felicity in marriage.”

  Wickham could think of nothing to say. He walked down the hall towards where his bride sounded as if she was tearing the room apart with her bare hands.

  He glanced behind at Darcy who had come out of the study. Elizabeth had joined him. Wickham watched in astonishment as Darcy wrapped his arm around his betrothed and kissed her before Elizabeth nestled into him contentedly. Wickham forced himself to look away from the sight and went to join the harpy who was currently vowing to make his life a living hell.

  Chapter 30

  The weeks until the wedding passed swiftly and Darcy and Elizabeth only grew closer. They could not wait for the day when they would be wed.

  As Elizabeth prepared for her new life, only one thing marred her happiness, and that was the knowledge that Jane was unhappy. Bingley did not attempt to speak with her. Whenever he saw Elizabeth, he inquired about her family in a particular manner that made her think he wished to know of Jane. But he never mentioned her sister directly, and although he visited Longbourn with Darcy once Miss Bingley had travelled to London to stay with her sister Mrs Hurst and plan her wedding, he spoke little and indeed, he looked as uncomfortable in their presence as Darcy had once been. Elizabeth longed to believe he still loved Jane, but she could not convince herself he did. Why would he behave so towards her if he still cared for her? Elizabeth had been convinced Miss Bingley had been the main obstacle between the match. She was out of the way now, preparing to marry a spouse who was far lower and would give her far more cause to blush than Jane would ever have given Bingley. The way was clear as far as Elizabeth could see. If he did not take advantage of it, she could only conclude that he no longer loved her sister.

 

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