He chuckled. “I am of your mother’s opinion, my dear. I believe we have not seen the last of Mr Darcy.”
On this subject, Elizabeth could not agree; she doubted she would ever see him again. However, the only harm done was to herself. “Perhaps it was nothing more than an error of fancy on my side.” She sat in her favourite chair near the fire and opened the shepherding book. Her eyes skimmed over the pages, but her thoughts lingered elsewhere.
Despite her best intentions, the gentleman crept into her thoughts throughout the remainder of the day. His charming smile, his stately mien, his piercing eyes, his gentle hands, his thoughtful concern. Their conversations, their dances, their walk to Oakham, their final parting.
She had not meant to make herself unhappy about Darcy, but alone in her darkened chamber, after the house had fallen into silence, she missed him. His serious gaze and cautious reserve, so unlike her own carefree attitude, might have suited her exceedingly well. However, if he did not love her, then that was reason enough to end the acquaintance. She knew what became of couples who married without mutual affection. Why would he like me? I have no fortune, no connections, nothing to tempt a man of circumstances into matrimony. Even Miss Bingley, with her twenty thousand pounds and her flair for fashion, had more to offer a man of his station than Elizabeth.
She chided herself for falling in love so easily. At twenty years of age, she was no green girl; she knew that incautious hearts were meant to be broken. She ought to have known that simply because he had treated her with kindness, this did not mean he returned her affections.
You have been lying to yourself, Lizzy. Vanity drove you to believe a man of his consequence harboured matrimonial intentions. No heartfelt declaration had led her to false conclusions, and nothing he had said had proven false or misleading; only her foolish heart had supposed her to have any chance with him.
She only had herself to blame for falling in love where none was returned. He had made no declaration, after all, and now that he had gone away, she doubted the likelihood of ever meeting him again. How just that she suffered from disappointment created from her own imagination. Regrettably, her once carefree attitude now eluded her.
Chapter 16
Despite the cold December breeze on Tuesday, the brilliant sunshine beckoned Elizabeth outdoors. Having been confined in the house far too long, she donned her warmest cloak and secured her bonnet, determined to clear her head. As she passed by her father’s study, he called out to her. “Stay close to the house, Lizzy.”
After promising to venture only as far as the garden, she stepped outside and breathed in the sweet, crisp air. Wrapping her scarf around her neck, she lamented that her excursion would be limited to the area closest to the house. She missed her solitary rambles but knew she would raise her father’s ire if she ventured any farther. However, Elizabeth was not prone to gloom, and the fresh air enlivened her spirits. She released her cares and revelled in the moment of this freedom, however small.
Hearing two voices coming from the garden, she stopped to listen: a man and a woman. She wondered who they could be. Over the top of the tall hedge, she spied a shako, a hat worn by militia members. She crept forward, her alarm increasing with each step, then paused when she heard Kitty’s voice.
“’Tis terribly unjust. You have done nothing to deserve such restrictions.”
“You are the only one who understands my plight, my sweet angel. We are destined for each other.”
Horrified, Elizabeth froze at the sound of Wickham’s voice. Was he planning to abscond with Kitty? Without a moment’s hesitation, she strode around the hedge, determined to confront them. When she entered the garden, she observed Wickham holding hands with Kitty, who quickly withdrew, her eyes wide with apprehension.
“Forgive me,” Elizabeth said, keeping her tone light so as not to put him on his guard. “I did not expect to find anyone here.” Glancing around, she saw no sign of Denny. Wasn’t he supposed to accompany Wickham on his jaunts into town?
Wickham calmly made his bow. “Hello, Miss Elizabeth. I trust you are well today.”
Hoping to raise no suspicion in him or reveal her distrust, she resolved to maintain every civility until she could get Kitty away from him. She exchanged polite greetings with him, then linked her arm with Kitty’s. “Papa has sent me to find you, Kitty. You must excuse us, Mr Wickham, but my sister is needed indoors,” she said, hoping he would make no objection.
His genial smile faltered. “Can you not stay a few minutes longer? I have not seen you in weeks and long for friendly company. I was just telling Miss Kitty that I have been refused admittance to nearly every house in the community.”
While she would have preferred to rebuke him and tell him he deserved far worse punishment, her instincts warned her that while she and Kitty were both in danger, she should allow him no advantage. Keeping her wits about her, she feigned surprise. “There must be some mistake,” she said, keeping a firm grip on Kitty’s arm.
“Even your aunt and uncle, who once welcomed me with every civility, will not receive me. I have made many friends since coming to Meryton, but I seem to have lost them.”
“How much must you be made to endure?” she said, although she cared little for his self-inflicted plight.
“Darcy must have turned everyone against me.”
And with just cause! How dare he blame Darcy for his own shortcomings. Having heard enough, Elizabeth was even more determined to make her escape. “I am certain that your present difficulties will be resolved soon. Come inside, Kitty,” she said, gently pulling her away.
“No, Lizzy.” Although Kitty struggled against her, Elizabeth held tight, refusing to release her sister.
Wickham grabbed Kitty’s wrist and roughly pulled her out of Elizabeth’s grasp. Kitty cried out in alarm, unable to wrest herself away from him. “Miss Kitty is my friend. Why must you separate us?” he said, stepping closer to Elizabeth and hovering over her with a cross scowl.
Although attired in splendid regimentals with gleaming gold buttons, Elizabeth observed a murky grey mist surrounding Wickham. Recalling something Denny had mentioned at the ball, she grasped two buttons with each hand and ripped them away.
His eyes flew open wide, then flashed with anger. “What have you done?” he said, pushing Kitty away and nearly setting her off her feet. Crying out in pain, she hobbled away from him, as though she had been injured. “I will be penalised if I lose my buttons. Give them to me this instant.”
Summoning every bit of strength, Elizabeth threw the buttons over his head, not caring where they landed, wrapped an arm around Kitty’s waist, and ran towards the house, calling out for her father. Wickham gave chase and had almost reached them when Mr Bennet emerged from the house with Mr Hill. Her father murmured under his breath, sending Mr Hill running to the back of the house. Elizabeth had never observed such icy hostility in her father’s expression.
“You are trespassing, Mr Wickham,” he said, his voice stern but perfectly calm. “I am out of patience with you.”
Wickham shook his head, as though in disbelief. “I cannot imagine what I might have done to offend you, Mr Bennet,” he said, enshrouded in a murky cloud.
Her father narrowed his eyes. “I should think you do know. Your reputation is well known, even here in Hertfordshire.”
Wickham was about to respond when the sound of barking dogs echoed from the kennel. Wickham turned pale and took a step backwards.
“No, Papa, please call them off,” Kitty cried, clinging to Elizabeth.
The raucous clamour increased as the hounds drew near. “Time is running short, sir,” Mr Bennet said, staring the interloper down.
Wickham turned on his heel and ran away from the house. By the time he reached the gates, the dogs charged into the front yard, followed by their handler. Mr Bennet signalled for the dogs to follow, and they set off down the driveway, barking madly. “Go inside now, girls. I will recall the dogs and join you.”
Once t
hey were indoors, Elizabeth guided her foolish sister to a chair. “He would not have hurt me if you had not interfered,” Kitty said, rubbing her ankle.
Despite her annoyance, Elizabeth untied and removed Kitty’s bonnet. “How can you be so naïve, Kitty? Do you not realise how dangerous he is?” she said, gently removing her pelisse one sleeve at a time.
Lydia bounded down the stairs to the foyer. “Did you see him?” she asked, oblivious to what had occurred in the garden.
Heat rose to Elizabeth’s face as her ire increased. “You knew?”
“Do not be angry, Lizzy. Kitty only wanted to flirt with Wickham.”
“I am sorry, Lizzy,” Kitty said, her eyes filled with tears. Her ankle had already begun to swell, and a pink welt had formed on her wrist where Wickham had grabbed her. “I did not realise.”
Still oblivious to their sister’s injuries, Lydia insisted that Kitty was never in any danger from Wickham. “She has no fortune to steal.”
Fully enraged, Elizabeth corrected Lydia’s delusions while Kitty began to weep in earnest. “What’s more, he may have hurt me, too,” she said, raising her voice, hoping to convince her sister of the danger they had escaped.
Grumbling under his breath, Mr Bennet entered the foyer, a storm brewing on his brow. Kitty jumped up and, while clinging to Lydia, attempted to balance her weight on one foot. “Colonel Forster assured me that Mr Denny would monitor Wickham’s movements in town,” he said. Then, noticing Kitty’s struggle, he reached out to support her and softened his tone. “Did he hurt you, my dear?”
Kitty winced, resting her injured foot on the floor. “’Tis only a twisted ankle, Papa.”
Despite Kitty’s pain, Elizabeth glared at her sister. “Tell him or I will.”
Kitty paled and hung her head. “Mr Wickham asked me to meet him in the garden.”
A crease formed in Mr Bennet’s brow. “What do you mean, he asked you? He has had no entrance to this house.”
“He sent a note with the butcher’s delivery boy.”
He drew in a sharp breath and his eyes narrowed. “I will have a word with the butcher,” he said in a calm voice. “And so, you met Wickham…” He pressed his lips into a grim line.
Shamefaced, Kitty sobbed in earnest. “Yes, but Lizzy saved me. I’m sorry, Papa. I will not see him again.”
Mr Bennet fondly embraced Kitty. “I assure you, my dear girl, you will see no one for some time to come,” he said, keeping a gentle hold on her. “And what, pray tell, was Lydia’s role in this affair?”
“Don’t blame Lydia, Papa. It was my decision to meet with him.”
“Lydia, take your sister to your chamber,” he said, red-faced, pointing up the stairs. “You are both confined there until Wickham has been brought under control,” he said with a stern voice.
Lydia shrieked indignantly. “Why me, Papa? I did not meet him.”
After calmly explaining that she should have informed him the instant she’d learned of Wickham’s note and Kitty’s intentions to meet him, Lydia hung her head and apologised.
Once Elizabeth was alone with her thoughts, she wondered what might have happened if she had not discovered Kitty with Wickham. Had providence sent her out to the garden for that purpose? If not for her hunger for a breath of air, Wickham might have lured Kitty to her ruin. Surely, her family would not have been able to endure such a scandal. Why was his friend not with him? Had he somehow eluded Denny? Now that his plan to entice Kitty had been foiled, would he mend his ways or would he make another attempt?
Then she wondered what was to become of her. Was she to be a prisoner in her own house, never to go outdoors again? As long as Wickham threatened the community, she and her sisters would never be safe from him. If Darcy were here, would he have come to her aid? She would like to suppose he would but doubted he would ever hear of today’s events.
***
One fortnight after Darcy had left Hertfordshire, supposedly forever, he knocked on Longbourn’s front door. He had planned to come earlier in the week, but urgent business matters had delayed his departure until Thursday. Even though some issues remained unresolved, he could wait no longer to settle things with Elizabeth. He intended to return to London as soon as he had secured her hand. First, of course, he would need her father’s permission to address her.
Upon his entry, he asked for Mr Bennet, and the servant ushered him into the study. Surprised to find the gentleman in conference with Sir William Lucas, he exchanged civilities with both men.
Sir William chuckled. “Ah, Mr Darcy, what brings you to Longbourn?”
“Forgive me for interrupting your conversation, Sir William.”
“Not at all, sir. I believe we all know why you have sought out my good friend. As I suspect your business with Mr Bennet is of the utmost importance, I shall withdraw immediately,” he said with a kind smile. As he passed by, he whispered: “My felicitations, Mr Darcy.”
His host gestured to the chair in front of the desk, and Darcy sat down. “Sir William and I have been discussing Wickham. Your friend has been making a nuisance of himself.”
Yes, that’s Wickham’s forte, he thought. “I assure you, Mr Bennet, I cut that connection years ago; however, he has a bad habit of reappearing when you least expect him.”
Mr Bennet sadly nodded his head. “That is exactly what has happened. We met with Colonel Forster after the ball, and he assured us that Wickham would be constantly monitored. We agreed that he would be refused admittance to every house in the community, but he persists despite our efforts. He even lured one of my daughters out of the house two days ago.”
“Elizabeth?” Darcy blurted out in alarm, then corrected himself when Mr Bennet assumed a perturbed frown. “I hope Miss Elizabeth has come to no harm.”
“No, it was Kitty, who twisted her ankle when he shoved her.”
Despite his momentary relief, he regretted that Elizabeth’s sister had been hurt. “I apologise for Wickham, sir. There is no excuse for him. I shall do everything in my power to have him removed from the area,” he said, shifting in his chair. Would Wickham never learn to control his impulses?
Mr Bennet released a weary sigh. “I suppose you did not come to discuss Wickham.”
“No, indeed, I came to ask your permission to address Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy hoped his host would have no objections.
“I suspected as much,” Mr Bennet said with a knowing smile. His relaxed demeanour gave Darcy every reason to believe that his suit would prosper.
***
While Elizabeth stitched on her embroidery project, Sir William entered the sitting parlour and sat next to her, grinning broadly. “It may interest you to know, Miss Eliza, that a certain gentleman from Derbyshire has just now presented himself to Mr Bennet’s study.”
Stunned, Elizabeth stared at the doorway, willing Darcy to walk through it. Had he come for her?
Mrs Bennet shrieked. “Oh, happy day!”
Sir William chuckled. “I am certain that we need not speculate on the nature of his errand, as he made his intentions abundantly clear when last we saw him.”
Mrs Bennet scurried to the doorway to peek out. “Praise the heavens! My own Lizzy, married to a handsome man of fortune. ’Tis just as I said it would be.” She unfurled her fan and vigorously employed it, her eyes wide with exhilaration, but then frowned and returned to Elizabeth’s side. “Oh, Lizzy, I wish you had worn your blue muslin; it becomes you much better than the green wool—but I suppose there is nothing to be done about it now,” she said, rearranging Elizabeth’s hairpins. “Do not fret, your hair is perfectly simple. We would not wish for you to put on airs. Now, when Mr Darcy addresses you, you must remember your manners and resist running off in your wild way.”
Elizabeth doubted Darcy considered betrothal, but perhaps he might suggest a courtship. Keeping her eyes fixed on the door, she wondered how long her father would keep Darcy in the study.
Mrs Bennet prattled on nervously. “You will be next Jane, and Mary,
too. Although what is to be done with Kitty and Lydia, I am sure I do not know. Meeting a known scoundrel out of doors—I was never more shocked in my life.”
Sir William nodded his agreement. “Mr Wickham attempted to call on Miss King on Sunday and my Maria just yesterday. That is why I called on Mr Bennet. Something must be done,” he said with a grave tone. “All attempts to bring him to heel have only served to make him bolder.”
Mr Hill appeared in the doorway. “You are needed in the library, Miss Lizzy,” he said with a gleaming smile.
Mrs Bennet squealed with delight. “Go now, Lizzy—wait, let me fix your gown,” she said, tugging the bodice down to reveal Elizabeth’s cleavage, then pinched her daughter’s cheeks and pushed her towards the door. As she walked, Elizabeth readjusted her bodice, took a cleansing breath to calm her jitters, then entered the library.
Wearing his blue coat and a smile meant only for her, Darcy stood with his back to the windows, framed in brilliant light. “I am glad to see you again, Mr Darcy,” she said, dipping into a curtsy.
He stepped towards her, bowed over her hand, and kissed her fingers, sending her heart into wild flutters. “You are lovelier than ever, Miss Elizabeth.” Heat rose to her face as he kept hold of her hand. “In vain, I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
He loves me! she thought, pleased to observe the shimmering glow that she had seen in the past and to confirm her suspicions of his regard. Warmth suffused her heart, and she could not suppress a contented sigh; his fervent declaration had been more than she could have hoped for. She held her breath and waited for him to continue.
“My dearest Miss Elizabeth, being parted from you these past two weeks has tormented me. Although I have been able to think of nothing but you, I have struggled to reconcile my affections for someone of inferior standing. Such an alliance would surely degrade my own. My family may oppose me, but this is to be expected.”
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