A Certain Something

by Cassandra B Leigh

  Darcy poured short drinks for them both, then raised a silent toast to the endeavour and drank. Richard removed a woollen throw from a chair and wrapped it around his head and shoulders, allowing it to dangle down to his knees. “What would you say to Elizabeth?”

  Darcy paused; he had not expected role-playing as a method of practising his new proposal and was not entirely convinced of his cousin’s ability to inspire him. “Elizabeth would not smirk at me.”

  Ever the jokester, Richard chuckled. “Let’s try something else,” he said, arranging cushions on a chair and strategically tucking the throw around them to form a body. “We need something round for the head,” he said, looking around the library. Seizing the world globe, he placed it atop the lumpy body and stood back to admire his handiwork.

  Observing no resemblance between the makeshift woman and Elizabeth, Darcy found this contrivance in no way helpful. “Her head is inordinately large.”

  “Well, then, you must use your imagination. Close your eyes and picture Elizabeth. Can you see her?” Darcy’s mood brightened as he clearly saw an image of her standing at Oakham Mount with the sun shining on her face and her eyes glowing with affection. “What do you want to tell her?”

  “I love you more than I thought possible.”

  Richard cleared his throat, forcing Darcy to open his eyes. “First, you must apologise.”

  “But I have so much to apologise for; where do I begin?”

  Muttering under his breath, Richard shook his head; even the globe-headed woman seemed unimpressed with his performance. “You offended her on several fronts, and you must address each one. Choose your words carefully.”

  Closing his eyes, he summoned Elizabeth’s image once again; this time, she sat in the Longbourn library. Her voice was grave and the brilliance had faded from her eyes, or rather, his own arrogance had broken her spirit. “I apologise for hurting you, for thinking you are inferior to me, for making you believe that you are unworthy of me. The truth is that I am unworthy of you.”

  “That is a good start, but you must also assure her that you will never repeat these offences. You must ease her mind on every score, using the utmost humility.”

  Yes, but would she believe him after his last disastrous attempt? It seemed an impossible task, but he must do everything in his power to gain her forgiveness. He had no hope of securing her hand without it. He poured another drink and swallowed it down. Duly fortified, he and Richard worked into the early-morning hours, determined to address each of Elizabeth’s concerns.

  ***

  Wednesday morning, Darcy awoke with a throbbing headache; perhaps he had indulged in a bit too much fortification. Attempting to recall everything he and Richard had discussed, his muddled brain refused, allowing only the image of the disapproving globe-woman. He would have preferred to stay in bed a few more hours, but Georgiana expected him at breakfast, and he would not disappoint her. Releasing a beleaguered moan, he rose from his bed and rang for his valet.

  By the time he entered the breakfast parlour, Georgiana, Mrs Annesley, and Bingley had already finished their meals. He apologised for his tardiness and accepted a cup of coffee from a footman. Under normal circumstances, he would have chosen a hearty breakfast; however, the aromas emanating from the sideboard unsettled his stomach. Black coffee would have to do until his queasiness subsided.

  Bingley chatted amiably with Georgiana, regaling her with his plans for his impending return to Netherfield. “The servants and the steward are already engaged; there is very little left to do except for securing a mistress for the estate, of course.” Exhausted by his friend’s relentless enthusiasm, Darcy rubbed his temples, prompting Bingley’s notice. “Are you unwell, Darcy?”

  He finished his coffee and signalled to the footman for more. “It’s nothing.”

  “What my brother means to say, Mr Bingley, is that he regrets overindulging last night,” Georgiana said, then gave Darcy a sidelong glance.

  He could not deny that he should have known there would be a price to pay in the morning. “Coffee will set me to rights,” Darcy said, wondering how he would get through the rest of the day.

  A servant entered the parlour to announce Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. Suppressing the urge to growl his displeasure at this intrusion, Darcy rose to receive them. Dispensing with the usual civilities, Caroline immediately set upon her brother in an agitated state. “There you are, Charles. I must speak with you this instant. Forgive me, Mr Darcy and Miss Darcy, but I have urgent business to discuss with Charles.”

  Her shrill voice made Darcy’s head throb. Was he not safe from that harridan, even in his own home?

  Red-faced, Bingley begged Darcy’s pardon and bustled Caroline out into the hall. “You cannot barge in on the Darcys whenever it suits you, Caroline.”

  Unfortunately, Darcy heard their entire conversation. “Henry has given me no choice, Charles. He refuses to attend the Grantley’s party this evening. You must escort me or I shall miss the most important party of the season,” she said, making no attempt to lower her voice.

  “Come in here, please,” Bingley said, then Darcy heard the sound of footsteps and muffled voices. Thankfully, Bingley had taken her out of hearing distance.

  This left Louisa Hurst cowering in the breakfast parlour, sighing and shaking her head. “I beg your pardon, Mr Darcy. My poor sister is quite beside herself.”

  Georgiana instructed a footman to pull up a chair for Louisa, then invited her to sit at the table and poured her a cup of tea, which she gratefully accepted. “Henry is so exhausted from the late nights this past week; he is not quite himself.” She accepted a linen serviette from the footman and sipped her tea. “We have not seen you since we returned to town,” she said, directing her gaze at Darcy.

  And with good reason, Darcy thought. Not that he and Caroline travelled in the same circles, but he would not take the chance of running into her at a holiday party. Besides, in his present state of uncertainty, he was in no mood to celebrate. “We keep a more sedate pace. My sister is not yet out, as you know.”

  She instantly agreed, then turned to Georgiana. “How are your studies progressing, Miss Darcy?”

  “Very well, thank you. Mrs Annesley keeps me busy.” Georgiana and her companion exchanged fond glances.

  “How can you be so disobliging?” Caroline’s voice echoed from another room.

  Louisa’s cheeks turned pink at the disruption. “Caroline hates to miss a party.”

  An extended silence ensued until Mrs Annesley finally spoke. “There is a chilly wind blowing today,” she said. “I wonder if the Thames will freeze again this winter?” This led to a brief discussion of last January’s phenomenon and a consensus that a repeat would be most unwelcome. Although Darcy usually found the weather a tedious topic, he was grateful for the distraction.

  When Bingley returned with his sister, Caroline sauntered into the parlour wearing her prettiest smile. “How well you look, Miss Darcy. I hope you are both enjoying the holidays,” she said, sitting in Bingley’s abandoned chair, next to Darcy. “How cosy this is, just like our meals at Netherfield. We did miss you there, Miss Darcy, did we not, Louisa? Your brother spoke of you almost constantly.”

  Infuriated by her forced smile and fluttering lashes, Darcy stood, interrupting Louisa’s response. Under no circumstances would he allow Caroline Bingley to preside over his table, or influence his sister in the art of allurement. “Georgiana, I am certain you and Mrs Annesley have a busy schedule today. We must not keep you from it.” Georgiana bobbed a curtsy and left with her companion. “Bingley, may I speak to you a moment?” he said, gesturing to the doorway. He advised Bingley’s sisters to make themselves comfortable, then left them behind.

  Bingley followed him into the study. “I beg your pardon, Darcy. I had no idea she would consider anything so rash.”

  With his head now pounding, he had lost all patience. “She has gone too far this time. If you do not correct her, I shall, and I assure you, sh
e will not enjoy it.”

  Bingley groaned, running his fingers through his hair. “I had to promise to take her to two parties,” he said, then held up his hands when Darcy attempted to interject. “Then I gave her a choice: she can take her chances with Henry or she can come to Netherfield with me and be my hostess until I get married.”

  Darcy advised his friend to find a husband for Caroline. “Only then will you be rid of her.” Bingley promised to take it under advisement, then left to escort his sisters back to Grosvenor. Although the hour was far too early to imbibe, Darcy poured a short glass of wine and swallowed it in one gulp, hoping to ease his discomfort.

  He instantly regretted not closing the study door when Caroline paused at the threshold. “Will I see you at the Grantley’s party tonight? Everyone will be there,” she said with a hopeful smile.

  Darcy maintained an indifferent air. “I would rather not be seen.”

  Nodding her head, she made a meaningful sigh. “Of course, everyone knows ’tis far better to be at home with a good book and good friends,” she said, fluttering her lashes again.

  Bingley grasped her arm, attempting to pull her away. “We are ready to go, Caroline.”

  She shrugged him off and stepped inside the study. “We had such a lovely time a Netherfield, did we not?” she said, flashing an alluring smile.

  “Indeed, I plan to return to Longbourn soon. May I give the Bennets your regard?”

  Her mouth agape, the colour drained from her face. Except for her rapid blinking, she stood motionless and silent.

  “Off we go,” Charles said, taking her arm and leading her out. Louisa made her curtsy and followed behind.

  Darcy called out after them. “Enjoy your party,” he said, chuckling to himself. He probably enjoyed that parting remark more than he ought, but that brief triumph instantly improved his mood. Hoping to have no further dealings with Caroline, he considered suggesting a few friends to Bingley as potential husbands for his sister, but then thought better of it; he would not wish that woman on anyone of his acquaintance. Better to let Bingley and Hurst deal with her.

  ***

  Darcy breathed a sigh of relief as he returned home Friday night. It was done; Wickham had signed the agreement, accepting Darcy’s payment and the army commission. He would leave London in the morning with a few other recruits to join his new regiment in Sussex. If Richard’s information was correct, he would be on his way to Portugal within a month. Richard advised Darcy of his intent to notify Colonel Forster of the arrangement. Mr Bennet and Sir William would have no cause to fear for their daughters’ safety, or the threat to the community. More to the point, Wickham would have no further influence on Elizabeth or her sisters.

  How short sighted he had been to ignore Wickham and treat him as though he’d never existed, allowing him to wreak havoc on everyone in his path. What’s worse, delusions of the power of his own influence had caused him to assume that merely spreading Wickham’s history with the locals would have sufficiently kept him in check. Knowing he had followed Georgiana to Ramsgate for the sole purpose of luring her to the border should have been enough to tell him that no villainy was beyond George Wickham’s consideration.

  Furthermore, he should have addressed the problem long before now. He had allowed four months to elapse since August before finally taking action. While he was relieved that Georgiana and Elizabeth would suffer no further pain from Wickham’s presence, unfortunately, Kitty Bennet had been injured. He hoped her recovery progressed well and that Elizabeth would be easier now that the threat to her sisters had been removed.

  However, despite his belated efforts to remove Wickham from Meryton, he doubted Elizabeth would be moved to change her mind about her refusal. His insults still divided them. Nonetheless, if he was to be reunited with his heart’s desire, he must make the attempt. Recalling Richard’s advice, he planned to remain humble, apologise for every affront, promise to never offend her again, beg for her forgiveness, and assure her of his enduring affection.

  But when should he make his next attempt to secure her hand? Did he dare to return to Longbourn with Christmas only a few days away? Would Elizabeth even agree to see him after his dismal performance? Surely, she must have repeated his criticism of her family to her parents. How could he present himself on their doorstep after disparaging them so decisively?

  Happy Christmas, Mr and Mrs Bennet. Despite my disapproval of you and most of your family, I sincerely wish you all the joys of the season.

  No—he had no desire to impose on the Bennets or disturb their holiday. Perhaps he should wait until January and return to Netherfield with Bingley. Unfortunately, Twelfth Night was more than a fortnight away; he would go mad if he had to wait that long to see Elizabeth. Nothing in his life could be right again until he had expressed his regrets for disappointing her.

  ***

  At breakfast the next morning, Darcy relayed the story of Wickham’s removal to Georgiana, Bingley, and Mrs Annesley. “I have interesting news. George Wickham has enlisted in the army and has left the area to join his new regiment in Sussex.”

  Georgiana gasped; her eyes wide with amazement. Bingley clapped him on the back. “Capital!” he said, in his usual lively demeanour. Mrs Annesley nodded her head in approval.

  “How do you know?” Georgiana inquired with a hesitant voice.

  “Richard arranged it.”

  She stared intently at him for an extended moment. “But you paid for it, did you not?” When he confirmed her suspicions, she threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly. “Oh, Fitzwilliam, you are the most wonderful brother in the world.”

  “I don’t mean to alarm you, but he caused some problems in Hertfordshire. One of Miss Elizabeth’s sisters injured her ankle, thanks to George.”

  Bingley’s smile vanished in an instant. “Which sister?” When he learned Kitty had been hurt, he shook his head and grumbled under his breath.

  “I am terribly sorry! I shall write to Miss Kitty immediately and inquire after her recovery,” Georgiana said.

  “You cannot write to Miss Kitty without an introduction,” Darcy said, to which she dropped her shoulders and pouted.

  “Never mind, Miss Darcy,” Bingley said. “When I return to Longbourn, I shall convey your wishes for her recovery.”

  She sighed. “Will I ever meet Miss Elizabeth and her sisters?”

  Once again, Darcy cursed himself for failing to secure Elizabeth. “It is my fondest wish that you will meet the entire Bennet family; there are five daughters in all.”

  She clasped her hands together in amazement. “Five! I do so wish to meet them.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “Yes, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you do.” However, he had not yet determined how he would arrange that meeting. He would need to summon the assistance of kismet, Providence, and perhaps Cupid himself to smile on him and give him another chance with Elizabeth.

  Chapter 20

  Two days before Christmas, Mr and Mrs Edward Gardiner and their four children arrived at Longbourn to spend the holidays with the Bennet family. Elizabeth kissed each of her cousins and remarked on how much they had grown since she had last seen them. The youngsters added a festive air with their exuberant chatter and eager anticipation of the traditional holiday sweets. Cheered by their enthusiasm, Elizabeth put her disappointment behind her.

  Her aunt’s warm embrace gave her comfort, knowing that sensible counsel would be with her for the next sennight. A faithful correspondent, Elizabeth had already informed her aunt Gardiner of Darcy’s horrendous proposal, and she hoped for an opportunity to converse privately with her on the subject.

  As Elizabeth and her sisters accompanied the guests upstairs to their chambers, Mrs Bennet boasted of Jane’s success. “My Jane shall be mistress of Netherfield erelong,” her mother said, as though in raptures, then relayed the story with far more embellishment than necessary. “Mr Bingley is so taken with Jane; he came all the way back to Hertfo
rdshire last week just to take his leave of her.” Once in the nursery, Elizabeth helped the children remove their coats and hats, then cringed when her mother changed the topic. “I wish I could say the same for Lizzy. Can you imagine it, Sister? She refused an offer from Mr Darcy. I have never been more vexed with her,” she said, clucking her tongue. “’Tis merely a lover’s quarrel, I daresay, and he shall return—on his knees, no doubt.”

  “Mama, please.”

  Mrs Bennet waved her hand. “But I shall not say another word about it.” However, her restraint was short-lived when she continued in another vein. “I can well imagine what Mr Darcy must have said about me. I will readily admit that my nerves consume me. You cannot know how I worry about the entail and what will become of us when my husband is gone.”

  Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, wishing her mother had better control of herself. These past few days, her admonishments had been relentless for selfishly refusing Darcy with no regard for her family’s future. Thankfully, a maid came to advise Mrs Bennet of a household issue, and she left the nursery to attend to it. Leaving the children in her sisters’ care, Elizabeth joined her aunt Gardiner in her guest chamber. Grateful for her aunt’s calm demeanour and the opportunity to confide in her, Elizabeth allowed herself to relax.

  “Tell me, Lizzy, are you recovered?” Aunt Gardiner inquired as she removed her bonnet and pelisse, then handed them to the waiting maid.

  Elizabeth sat on the bed and released a beleaguered sigh. “Nearly.”

  Her aunt checked her hair in the looking glass, then turned to face Elizabeth. “I am sorry it went off, but your mother may yet be proven right. If Mr Darcy wishes to mend with you, he may make another attempt.”

  Elizabeth could not allow such optimism. “When, Aunt? When he overlooks my inferiority? When my relations in trade become less undesirable? When my fortune rivals the heiresses in his own sphere? How can our differences ever be resolved?”