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Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

Page 5

by Brenda J. Webb


  “Then a word to the wise. Do not interfere with my plans—or Fitzwilliam’s or Andrew’s, either, for that matter.”

  With those words, Charles stood, tossed his serviette onto the table and stalked out of the room. His heavy boots marked his every step, resounding across the marble floors of the hall and then the foyer. As the sound grew more distant, Caroline Gertrude Bingley tossed a roll at the door, almost hitting a footman who had come to clear the table.

  “Humph! We shall see about that!”

  Chapter 3

  Longbourn

  The day after the ball

  This morning the Bennet girls were taking far longer on their appearance than was common for a walk into Meryton. Well, at least the younger Miss Bennets were, for those two had cornered Sarah on first sight and pulled her into their bedroom. In anticipation of seeing the militia, they pleaded with the maid to design more intricate hairstyles for them in hopes of looking older. In addition, Kitty had purloined Jane’s new bonnet, while Lydia had borrowed Jane’s best day gown and the slippers purchased only last week for Lizzy. As she sat on the side of the bed, forcing her feet into the smaller shoes, their owner appeared in the doorway.

  “Lydia, give them back this instant! Your feet are much too big and you shall ruin them as you have ruined all the others.”

  “Mama said I could borrow them!”

  “I doubt that, and, in any case, they are not Mama’s to lend. Papa bought them for me.”

  Lizzy’s stern countenance and firm resolve convinced Lydia of the futility of complaining to their mother, for she was well aware that while her mother allowed her to borrow gowns, ribbons and bonnets with impunity, shoes were another matter entirely. In truth, she was the sole reason that Lizzy had to have a new pair.

  “You are just selfish! That is all there is to it!” Lydia huffed as she tossed one shoe after another towards Lizzy. “Just see if I shall let you borrow my... ” Unable to think of a single item that her sister had ever asked to borrow, she sniffed. “Just you wait until you want to borrow something of mine!”

  Elizabeth frowned. Surely there is not a more peevish girl in all of England. If Papa does not intervene soon, she will be hopeless. Making a mental note to speak to him once more about Lydia, Elizabeth returned to the room she shared with Jane. There she found her eldest sister frantically searching the room.

  “May I help you look for something?”

  “Oh, Lizzy! I fear I may have lost my new bonnet. Mama shall be livid if I left it at Lucas Lodge yesterday.”

  Lizzy sighed. “Come with me.”

  Jane followed her to the other bedroom. Kitty sat in a chair facing the dresser while Sarah fixed her hair. On the dresser lay Jane’s bonnet. Lizzy went over to pick it up.

  “I think it is customary to ask when you want to borrow something.”

  Seeing Jane in the mirror, Kitty made a face as though she might cry. “I meant to ask, but you were not in your room.” Then inspiration struck. “Please let me borrow it. You are so much prettier than I that you have no need of such beautiful things.”

  Lizzy groaned at Kitty’s dramatics, knowing full well that Jane would take her seriously. Unsurprised when Jane replied that she was certainly not prettier and gave Kitty permission to borrow the bonnet, Elizabeth set it back on the dresser. She detected a small smirk on Kitty’s face as their eyes met. Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth followed Jane into the hall.

  “Lizzy, I know that I should be more like you and let Lydia and Kitty face the consequences of their actions, but I am not that strong.”

  Elizabeth hugged her. “We are who we are and I would not change anything about you. Come! Let me see what I can do with your hair. I fear that Sarah will still be working on Kitty when your Mr. Bingley arrives and I would think that he is on his way.”

  “He is not—”

  “Your Mr. Bingley! I know!” With that, they broke into gales of laughter.

  A KNOCK ON THE FRONT door signalled Charles Bingley’s arrival. He wore a silly grin and held his hat in his hand, waiting for Mrs. Hill to acknowledge him.

  “Welcome to Longbourn, Mr. Bingley. Come this way, sir.”

  The servant was forced to cover a smile when she showed Mr. Bingley into the parlour, for upon seeing him, Mrs. Bennet shrieked loud enough to be heard in Meryton.

  “Mr. Bingley!” she howled, trying to rise gracefully from the soft cushions of the sofa. “How wonderful it is that you have decided to walk into Meryton with my girls! What a lovely gesture! Will you be staying for dinner after your return?”

  Finally managing to get to her feet and without waiting for an answer, she waved her handkerchief at the housekeeper. “Hill, go and fetch Jane right this minute!” Then she addressed her guest again. “Jane is ready, I am sure, and should be down shortly! You have missed Mr. Bennet, as he just left for Purvis Lodge!” Then remembering her manners, she added, “Please be seated!”

  Not used to every sentence being shouted, Bingley tried to think of a reply but could not. Luckily, Jane’s mother did not seem to notice as she continued to chatter. Befuddled, he sat down.

  “Would you like a cup of tea? Or perhaps a scone?” She rushed to the doorway to peer up the stairs that led to the bedrooms. “Hill?”

  Sweeping back into the room, she ran the back of her hand over her forehead. “I have no idea what is taking her so long.” Seeing the confusion on Bingley’s face, she asked, “Have you found Netherfield to your liking? Of course, you have! It is the finest home in all of Hertfordshire, some say, and I would have to agree.”

  Charles was trying to form an answer when Jane rushed into the room followed by all of her sisters, except for Mary, each donning their bonnets and shawls. Lydia and Kitty were talking simultaneously, but Lizzy was uncharacteristically quiet as she looked about the room for another gentleman.

  “See, I told you she would not be long,” Mrs. Bennet crowed. Then her face fell. “But where is Mary?”

  “Mary has decided to stay here and read,” Lizzy offered.

  “I shall have to talk to Mr. Bennet about that girl! She would stay in her room all the time if I let her.” Quickly she changed the subject. “Come, Mr. Bingley! You had best be getting along while it is still cool. I shall not detain you.”

  As she shooed all the occupants of the room out the door, she pulled Elizabeth aside. “Be sure to walk far ahead of Jane and Mr. Bingley. After all, they have important things to discuss and do not need you listening to their every word.”

  “Mama, it would be improper to leave them alone.”

  “Leave what is proper to me. Do you hear?”

  “Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth said resignedly.

  MERYTON

  As the sun rose higher, Meryton began to flood with people from every corner of the county. Overwhelming the boardwalks that led from store to store, they spilled into the dusty street. Occasionally crossing to the other side, people threaded between wagons, carriages and the occasional coach as they attempted to avoid the animals pulling the vehicles and their droppings.

  Amongst the villagers, even the plainest girls caught the attentions of the redcoats who congregated on one end of the street nearest the public house. As usual, upon collecting their pay, the militia had rushed into town to enjoy a drink at the tavern and to get a peek at the local lasses. Occasionally a whistle would pierce the air, though the responsible party would quickly turn his head and feign innocence. This behaviour would result in respectable men and women looking about with furrowed brows, trying to discern the source of the offense. More often than not, the young lady being admired would blush and smile, often garnering a rebuke from her relations; however, it was never so severe as to deter her from glancing in the direction of the men again as she was dragged towards the shops.

  Surrounded by the hodgepodge of humanity in Meryton this crisp morning, Lieutenant George Wickham appeared exceedingly unhappy as he leaned against a large oak tree next to the blacksmith’s shop. Quite dapper in hi
s regimentals and polished black boots, his dark brown hair and equally dark brown eyes only added to his appeal. This morning he shared an animated conversation with his childhood friend, Andrew Darcy. That gentleman was equally well dressed, and they both drew the scrutiny of the local women. Even as they conversed, George managed to nod and bestow a smile on every woman who deigned to look in his direction, though the smile quickly vanished afterward. After all, there could be a fortune to be had in one of those smiles, and, if so, he intended to find it.

  “George, you are not listening,” Andrew grumbled. “Can you not give me your undivided attention for one full minute?”

  Wickham’s eyes locked on him. “Satisfied? You have my attention, but you must be quick about it. If I can no longer rely on your help, I must make my fortune the old fashioned way—I must charm the ladies out of it!”

  “I did not say I could not ever help you again,” Andrew sighed. “I said that for now I have no extra funds. That idiot Fitz has cut my allowance again.”

  “You still call him that? He has always hated that appellation. I wonder that you get away with it.”

  “I have never called him anything else, so I suppose he must tolerate it from me.”

  “I see,” Wickham said. “Not to change the subject, but I was under the impression that you had Lady Cowden under your sway. That old biddy is worth thousands of pounds if she is worth a farthing, but you say that you can only spare me ten pounds?”

  “The situation is not quite that simple! Nonetheless, once I collect the payment for my latest drawing, I shall be happy to help you. After all, we are the best of friends, are we not?”

  “I thought we were, but I am not so certain now. In Cambridge you promised that we would live extravagantly once you inherited your grandmother’s estate, but that has not happened. As a result, I am still a slave to the militia, and you humiliate yourself entertaining ugly widows. If you can only spare me a few pounds, why did you bother to look me up?”

  “I came to Meryton because of the letter you sent telling me of all the beautiful women you have met”

  “Still, I expressly told you not to come if you were having success in Town, and I do not think my offer would have dislodged you from Lady Cowden’s bed if you were still profiting from the arrangement. What it is that truly caused you to leave London?”

  Andrew sighed. “If you must know, Lady Cowden found a nude I had drawn of Lady Marshall, her niece, and showed me the door. I am giving her time to reconsider her imprudence.”

  “You, an artist? Why have you not mentioned it before?”

  “I have always drawn but never thought of it as a way to make a living until Lord Hepplewhite saw a nude I was doodling one day at White’s. He remarked that it favoured Lady Norwood, whom he secretly admires. He offered to purchase it if I made it resemble her even more. An idea took root at that moment! Surely, I thought, there was money to be made by drawing nudes of unsuspecting ladies for lusty men, especially those who have ugly wives! And if word of mouth keeps steady, I may profit enough from the drawings to leave off the widows. Nevertheless, I must do everything clandestinely. If certain men—husbands, brothers or fathers—were to get wind of the drawings or how they came into being, I could find myself on the wrong end of a sword.”

  “And just how do you plan to keep it from becoming common knowledge? You know how men talk and if Darcy were to—”

  “I will simply tell Fitz what I tell my customers—the drawings are done by a portrait artist who is down on his luck and wishes to remain anonymous. I will remind him that it is his fault that I must find other sources of income and that I am helping a starving artist, as well. He will not approve of the nudes, but he will never suspect me of drawing them. No one knows I can draw, save you.”

  “Then let us hope that your new adventure is profitable and you do not have to return to Lady Cowden. I do not think I could ever feign desire for her, much less perform.”

  “I had to keep the curtains drawn to bed her,” Andrew said wearily. “But she is the wealthiest widow in Town.” Slipping his thumbs beneath the lapels of his new blue jacket, he boasted, “And this is the outcome—the finest kerseymere 2 and I have three more in different colours, as well a new great coat and three pairs of boots that she purchased last month. With my meagre allowance, I can no longer afford such luxuries, so there is purpose to my madness.”

  “I see your point. But if you draw so well, why not become a legitimate portrait artist?”

  “A gentleman does not work for a living! Can you imagine how the ton would react? Not to mention the censure of my cousin?” His expression sobered. “Besides, I do not want to be remembered as an artist! I want to be as revered as Fitz for his business acumen and wealth. One day I shall.”

  You are a fool if you think that will ever happen! Wickham mused. Aloud he asked, “Where do you find the room to paint? What few artists I know have canvases and paints spread throughout their quarters.”

  “At this point, I am doing mostly charcoals, which are not as untidy as oils. I have a workshop in a room above a tailor in London, Mr. Poindexter. It is a large area, enough to store my canvases and to draw. I keep the door locked so that he never sees me at work. He thinks I use it as a place to hide when I do not want my relations to find me.

  “It worked out well until Lady Cowden started requiring that I spend more time with her, and I had to do the drawing of her niece in my bedroom.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “I hid the results under a bed, but the maid found it and Lady Cowden was called. You should have seen the shock on her face!”

  “Speaking of shock, I could scarcely keep from laughing aloud when I saw how you hovered over Elizabeth Bennet at the ball. Will she be your next conquest?”

  “I am hesitant to say, as she has proven very elusive thus far. But after all the loathsome widows and simpering debutants of Town, I found it exhilarating to spar with someone both handsome and intelligent. At least there is a challenge involved. Miss Bennet will not go down easily.”

  “I would rather a woman be easy in every sense of the word.”

  “Luckily, you are still free to pursue such women, Wickham. Since Fitz has focused on me, I have to be more careful. I have assured him that I am done with compromising innocents and still I get nowhere with him regarding my additional inheritance, so I have decided to see things from his perspective.”

  “Will wonders never cease!”

  “You jest, but I must think like him, if I wish to conquer him. What does Fitz value? The answer is family. And to whom does he demonstrate the most sympathy? Children. He contends that I do not have the funds to marry and still care for those brats he claims are mine without a more profitable estate. And yet, he refuses to help me!”

  “So, I have decided that perhaps I should marry. Once a child is born, his attitude shall soften, I just know it! After all, a man with a family to care for needs a thriving estate, and you know well how my cousin likes to orchestrate other people’s lives.”

  “You will marry? The one who said he would rather die than take on a ball and chain?”

  “Granted, it is not something I would wish on my worst enemy, but I could be persuaded if just to keep Fitz on the hook. He wants me to prove responsibility before he will release the additional inheritance. What better way than to take a wife? I can take the vows and then do as I please. After all, most men I know have wives that they barely acknowledge and mistresses who make them happy.”

  “This is insane! Despite your vaulted name and station, you are nearly insolvent! You cannot afford to regard Elizabeth Bennet as anything other than a bit of muslin!”

  Andrew’s voice lowered in warning. “That is enough, George.”

  “You are a Darcy, for heaven’s sake! If you must marry, choose someone with a substantial dowry. Do not settle for a wench with so little. Besides, her wit will grow tiresome when she sees through your lies.”

  “I will be the judge of who I wish to pursue, thank you. And if
I had wished to marry only a large dowry, I would not have wasted my time satisfying widows to pay my debts.”

  “If you follow this madness, do not call me when trouble follows, and it always does. I have discovered an ugly, freckled thing with red hair and a dowry of ten thousand pounds right under my nose. And unless I find a better mark, I intend to abscond with her dowry. Should that fail, I shall take the vows, loot her accounts and do as I please. I suggest that you do the same. Leave regard for those who can afford it—like Darcy.”

  Andrew shrugged, reluctant to dwell on George’s advice. His growing fondness for Elizabeth Bennet had come as a complete surprise, and he was intrigued. Could he afford to marry her if he had the balance of the inheritance? What if he married and Fitz was not convinced that he should release it?

  “Now who is not listening?”

  Suddenly aware that he had been woolgathering, Andrew forced all those thoughts from his mind and turned to his childhood friend. “I am sorry. I was thinking of my last talk with Fitz.”

  “Better you than me. I hope never to talk to that killjoy again.”

  “Yes, well, I fear that we shall have to disparage him later. It must be near time for the Bennets to arrive in Meryton, if they left Longbourn when Miss Lydia said they would. My horse is tied at the end of the street, between the pub and the confectioners. From there, I have a clear view of the road, and as soon as I spy the Bennets, I plan to ride out to meet them. Women are intrigued by men in tight breeches who sit a horse well.”

  Wickham laughed out loud. “You have given it a lot of thought.”

  “Since women have been my means of survival lately, I have made a point of learning what appeals to them. For instance, they also like your hair to be long enough for them to run their fingers through it. Now, do you want to join me?”

  “No, I shall be able to see them well enough from here, and I do not wish my pigeon to catch me flirting with Lydia Bennet. While I may have to court Mary King, I intend to keep the youngest Bennet sister under my spell. She seems eager to please me, and I most certainly want to encourage her.”

 

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