by Wells, Linda
“Too late to save him some trouble. He will have to pay her off, of course.”
“Hmm.” Wickham laughed to himself. He knew that Darcy was the prize she sought. “Well, now he is tied to that sickly wretch. I imagine he will be shopping for a mistress before long.” Noting Caroline’s wistful expression he jabbed. “A kept woman, all the finery without the honour.”
“Oh yes, nothing more than a courtesan, a disgusting life.”
“Mmm hmm. Perhaps that is all he wanted with Miss Elizabeth all along.” Wickham returned to the paper after shooting a look at her and inwardly laughed at her wide eyes. “So Darcy is master of Pemberley and Rosings. And no entailment on either, such funds at his fingertips.” He said jealously and noticing Caroline’s continued interest, he decided to bait her a bit. “Perhaps I should pay a call to congratulate him. Well, knowing his cousin, he surely does not have much honeymooning to do.”
“Is she really so ill?” Caroline said eagerly.
“Oh yes, thin as a rail and a miserable countenance. I saw her only a few times when she was a girl. I doubt that she has improved. A sour child, perfect for such a sour man.” Wickham laughed. “He is getting what he deserves.”
“I thought that you were friends?”
“Of course we are my dear, I was only joking!” Wickham covered quickly. “Surely you have seen that thunderous frown he conjures; it has been a point of amusement between us over the years.”
Bingley wandered into the room and smiled to see the couple getting on so well. “Here now, what is all of this levity? I should not have shirked my chaperone duties for so long.”
“I assure you sir, your sister is safe in my hands, and nothing could really occur in the ten minutes you were absent.” Wickham smiled and winked at Caroline.
She covered her blush by holding out the paper. “We were laughing at this item in the society page. Mr. Darcy married his cousin. It seems that Miss Elizabeth has been jilted.”
“What?” Bingley sat down and read the item. “When …? This is incorrect.”
“What do you mean?” Caroline demanded. “It is in the paper!”
“It is in the gossip column, Caroline.” Bingley pointed out. “Darcy’s engagement announcement to Miss Elizabeth was in the society page, besides, I walked with them last week and if that was an engagement in trouble, I will eat my hat.” He shook his head. “This is impossible. Darcy is at Pemberley. He sent me a note that he was leaving town due to a fire there.”
“A fire?” Caroline cried and placed her hand on her breast. “At Pemberley? Is it burned to the ground?”
“No, he thinks it is only a small area, well that is what he said to me. I hope that it was not more than that.”
She spun around in her seat. “Oh Mr. Wickham, what horrible news! To hear that your childhood home was damaged!”
Wickham noted Bingley eyeing him curiously and cleared his throat, he was not aware that Bingley was a close friend of Darcy’s. “Yes, terrible, but of course I did not actually live in the main house. I visited frequently …”
“You lived at Pemberley?” Bingley asked. “You know Darcy?”
“I …I …yes, I lived on the estate, and received a considerable bequest from his father.”
“Extraordinary!” Bingley smiled. “Well you will have to join me sometime when I call on Darcy, he will be pleased to see an old friend. Where did you live on the estate?”
“Oh, in my father’s house.” Wickham smiled and took Caroline’s hand. “I am sorry but I must keep my other appointment. You will forgive my haste? I will see you tomorrow evening?”
“Of course, yes, I look forward to another dance with you, Mr. Wickham.” Caroline stood and walked him out to the door. When she returned, she saw Bingley still staring at the notice with his brow creased. “Charles, I will thank you for not scaring Mr. Wickham away in the future.”
“What? What did I do? You were talking of Pemberley being his home.”
“He had a difficult childhood, I just forgot for a moment. Mr. Darcy’s father made it right though with his enormous bequest. Mr. Wickham is quite wealthy.”
“That is good to know, but it seems to me you have not forgotten Darcy yet. Well he will be married, and not to this cousin of his.” Bingley walked from the room carrying the paper, and calling for his hat, stepped outside to hail a passing cab.
12 JUNE 1809
Pemberley
My Love,
Our home is safe. The kitchen is destroyed and the walls blackened, but all will be well, and when I carry you over the threshold, it should be nearly back to its glory. It will require you, though. You resisted redecorating Darcy House, but I am afraid that you have no choice now. Pemberley has wounds that must be dressed, and I refuse to make such decisions without your opinion. So the wounds will wait for your gentle touch. We will visit the warehouses and choose fabrics for the draperies and new carpets. After seeing your wonder over selecting furniture for our bedchamber, I can but imagine the glee you will feel to have free rein amongst endless diversity.
I cannot describe my fear as we approached the crest of the drive. There is a break in the trees that affords a spectacular view of the house, and my heart was in my throat. I held onto my token for want of your hand. My relief was indescribable, not only was my family’s home intact, but I still had a home to give you, and I am delighted to report dearest, the roof does not leak, so I can happily fulfil your ideal desire for marrying me.
I hope though that you desire far more from me than a dry place to slumber. I know that my behaviour in my uncle’s house was unforgivable, but I cannot regret the love we shared. I think on it constantly, the feel of your skin under my palm, your thighs, your lips, so firm yet so soft. Dearest, I yearn to taste you and plumb your depths, if I could but have you now in my arms, I would be forever happy. To give you that happiness in return will be my greatest achievement. I long to hear you call me Husband. I long more to call you Wife.
I will return to you very soon, my Elizabeth. Once the plans are set, I will be on my way, within a week. I promise.
Forever yours,
Fitzwilliam
“Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth felt a shiver pass through her, and imagined exactly what he wished to do.
“What does Mr. Darcy have to say, Lizzy?” Mr. Gardiner asked then hid his amusement when she jumped and blushed. “Mr. Darcy?”
“Oh …the house is intact and he will leave within a week.” She stood and flustered, clutched her letter. “Excuse me.”
Mrs. Gardiner watched her flee the room and raised her brow. “I suspect there was much more said in that letter than talk of houses and travel.”
“Do you?” Mr. Gardiner winked at her then saw Jane staring out at the passing traffic. “What occupies your thoughts Jane?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing sensible, Uncle.” Noticing a carriage stopping, she sat up. “Mr. Bingley is here.”
“Mr. Bingley?” Mrs. Gardiner set down her sewing and they prepared to receive him. A maid announced him and he entered the room, not quite as enthusiastically as he had in the past. “Sir, please be seated. What brings you to our neighbourhood today?”
“Well Mrs. Gardiner, I could attempt an elaborate explanation of having business here but in truth, I come because of an item I saw in today’s paper.” He stood and handed the sheet to Mr. Gardiner. “I was not sure if you were aware of this, and now not seeing Miss Elizabeth here, I can but hope that it is the falsehood I believe it to be.”
“So it has begun.” Mr. Gardiner said softly.
“Sir?” Bingley asked and watched as the paper was passed to Mrs. Gardiner, who sighed and showed Jane.
“What do you know of Miss de Bourgh, Mr. Bingley?”
“She is weak, and her mother fancied her as a mate for Darcy. He told me that was impossible. Please tell me that this news is not true. Darcy has loved Miss Elizabeth for a very long time, I just could not see …”
“No, it is
not true. This is a fabrication begun by an ill woman, a questionable staff, and a horrendous mother.” He spoke angrily. “And now Lizzy must bear it without Darcy by her side.”
“It is hardly his fault that he is absent, Mr. Gardiner.” Mrs. Gardiner said sharply. He nodded and stood. “I will go tell her.” Taking the paper he left the room.
“I am sorry to have brought this news, madam.”
“No, I would prefer to have this come from a friend than to hear gossip in the streets.” Mrs. Gardiner sighed. “Darcy will return soon, but we have anticipated this news. His family has taken measures to counteract its impact.”
“Is there anything that I can do?
“Perhaps Mr. Bingley, if you share friends with Mr. Darcy, you might speak of your sure knowledge of his pending marriage to my sister.” Jane offered.
“Why yes, I can easily do that! I will stop at the club on my way home! After all it was Darcy’s word that rescued me; I can do the same for him! Excellent Miss Bennet!” He smiled warmly to her and she was able to return it. “I saw Harwick yesterday with his sister. He looked serious as ever. You will have to show him that smile to cheer him.”
“I …I will not likely have that opportunity, sir.”
“Mr. Harwick ended his courtship, Mr. Bingley.” Mrs. Gardiner said quietly.
“Oh.” Bingley’s eyes grew wide. “I am so very sorry, Miss Bennet.”
“You could not have known, sir.” Jane stood and curtseyed. “Excuse me, I will go and check on my sister.”
Bingley watched her go and turned his mortified face to Mrs. Gardiner. “I am so sorry madam, I had no idea. Perhaps I can come and call …”
“To what purpose, Mr. Bingley? Neither of you are ready to wed. If this was two years in the future I would gladly say yes, but she needs to recover from this and understand why it happened. You simply need to learn your new role.” She smiled and he looked at his hands. “You are doing what so many of my friends wish for their children.”
“Do you wish it for yours?” He asked. “I am unsure if I would have been better off simply learning my father’s trade.”
“No sir, I think that you are suited to be a gentleman, but my children will grow up in a different world. Tradesmen will become more accepted as time goes on. Times are changing and you know as well as I do that if a wealthy gentleman will not turn up his nose at the dowry from a tradesman’s daughter to save his estate, it will not be long before the tradesman’s sons are winning the gentleman’s daughters.”
“So I was born too soon.” Bingley smiled.
“I would say too late.” She laughed to see his head cock to the side. “Well, your father was bound and determined to have a gentleman son; your course was set by your grandfather. If you had followed your father, your son might have been raised as mine, to appreciate the possibilities of trade as his living.”
“Well, I suppose that I will make the best of it, then.” Bingley stood. “In the meantime, I will take advantage of my current standing and go spread the word that my friend Darcy is very much the bachelor and that position will be soon changed by Miss Elizabeth and no other.”
Mrs. Gardiner stood and walked him to the door. “Thank you very much for coming here Mr. Bingley; and you are welcome to visit our family at any time.” He glanced up the stairs then back to Mrs. Gardiner. “I will. Thank you.”
She closed the door after him thoughtfully, then joined her family to see what needed to be done for her other niece. She found Elizabeth in her uncle’s arms and sobbing. He looked up helplessly. Mrs. Gardiner came in and they gradually exchanged positions. “Why are you crying, Lizzy? You know that it is not true.”
“I wish he were here.”
“I know, your friends and future relatives can speak all they wish and show you off around town every hour of the day, but the truth of the matter is that Mr. Darcy is not here, and as long as he is missing, the talk will continue. These people need to see him, with you on his arm. I suspect that the small wedding you wished for will have to be changed.”
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth sniffed. “Why can we not be married as we wish in the parlour at Darcy House?”
“I think that you may need to marry at the very least in a church, and I suspect it will have to be Darcy’s, and with a general invitation to his society.”
“But … Aunt, that would mean … Mama and Papa and …”
“Our sisters presented to society.” Jane gasped.
“This is a problem.” Mr. Gardiner said quietly.
“Can nothing go well?” Elizabeth moaned and dropped her head in her hands. “Come home Fitzwilliam!”
12 JUNE 1809
Gracechurch Street
London
My dearest Fitzwilliam,
I have so many things to tell you, but the most important is that I miss you, my love. I think that if your lap could bear the weight, I would happily spend my days firmly in your embrace, and receiving your kisses. Oh what a terrible thing you have done, sir! How can you leave me after such a wonderful experience! I can hardly concentrate on any task, every free moment I have sends me instantly back to the memory of your arms. I believe that your aunt was growing quite exasperated with me while we worked in your study. There I was in your desk chair, yes my love; I claimed it for my own and felt surrounded by you, and looking up at the beautiful landscape of Pemberley. Oh, I hope that it is as it ever was. I imagined you approaching and your apprehension, and I dearly wished that I was there holding your hand. Whatever the circumstances, if it is intact or ruined, I do not care, only that you are well. A house can be rebuilt, and we will make new memories to fill the halls.
While looking at the landscape, and yes, I finally had the opportunity to examine it and the study closely since a certain persistent man was not nibbling upon me, I determined that the very first place you must take me when we go riding is to the very spot where the artist sat. I imagine it is not an easy place to find, and since my riding skills are somewhat questionable, I believe that I must make the journey by sharing your mount? Do you think that you would mind that so very much, riding with me sitting behind you, and holding your waist? Or would you prefer that I sit in front? It would make it easier for me to distract you with a kiss or two. Oh listen to me, you must think me wanton, but it is entirely your fault!
Your Aunt Catherine has been a bit bothersome, but your uncle will tell you all about it. I will not waste ink and paper on her nonsense. Just know that I am well. I am sorry to tell you that Jane and Mr. Harwick have ended their courtship. I know that you have found a friend in him, and please know that I hold nothing against him and his decision, and will not behave poorly should he visit our homes. Jane is circumspect. She expected this to happen and when it did, she blamed herself more so than our family or upbringing. She says that if I could overcome the effect of Longbourn then she should have as well. I do not know if I should agree or not, but I am glad to see the return of my sweet Jane. She said that she will behave as I did when I faced my rejection. I am simply grateful that I was rejected by Mr. Stewart, because it left me free for you, my love. Perhaps she will be so grateful someday when some man finds her.
Jane will remain in London to avoid Mama, but I was considering travelling to Longbourn to take care of my belongings before our wedding, and perhaps to distract Mama from Jane by showing me off to her friends. Uncle would send a maid with me as a companion, but when I voiced my thoughts to Aunt Helen, she quite clearly stated that I was out of my mind and that you would not stand for such an idea. I believe that she fumed for a full hour on the subject, even the offer from Alicia to accompany me in her own coach was denied. It seems that I will never collect my things, but with all of the shopping we have done of late, it is difficult to imagine what I could possibly use from Longbourn anyway. Perhaps we can stop briefly on our way home to Pemberley for our honeymoon.
Oh dearest, I am anticipating that trip so much! I have a very vivid imagination, and between my aunt’s
instruction and your demonstrations, I must admit that I am all curiosity to begin. Must we wait so long to wed? Can we not simply go directly to the church the moment you return? I have so many more places that I wish to touch now. Your neck is only one spot that I must taste. Oh dear, I hope that this letter does not fall into some stranger’s hands, what would they think of me? Well, as long as you think well of me, I will be happy for all of my days. I love you my Fitzwilliam, come to me as soon as you are able.
Yours always,
Elizabeth
Darcy’s face was lit by an enormous smile. “Elizabeth, dearest, do you have any idea what you are saying to me? What you are doing to me? You are extraordinary! Women do not speak of these things, certainly not wives!” His imagination was firing with so many images, Elizabeth in his chair, in his lap, bouncing against his ready body as they rode, touching him, kissing him, opening herself to him … “Ohhhhh.” He moaned as his body responded to the vision of Elizabeth sprawled before him. “Calm Darcy, calm yourself,” he said repeatedly. “You must be gentle, no matter how willing she is, be gentle.” A thought of them making love in the hills overlooking Pemberley immediately appeared and he groaned. “Perhaps Mrs. Bennet’s example was not all bad …”
A quarter-hour passed and he was relaxed in the lassitude of his relief. Sleepily he drew out the small box he kept in his waistcoat and removed the long curl of Elizabeth’s hair, wrapped it around his finger then kissed it before tenderly returning it to its place. He picked up her letter to drink in her words again, but this time he focussed on her carefully hidden message. Aunt Catherine, return to Longbourn, marry soon, come back. What had happened?
He looked back to his desk and found the thick packet that arrived by the same messenger who had brought his and Layton’s letters. Naturally he had immediately opened Elizabeth’s but now he turned to the letter from his uncle.
12 June 1809
Matlock House
Dear Darcy,
I hardly know how to tell you what has occurred in your absence. So I will take the coward’s route and let the enclosed letters tell you the tale. Read them in order. I have another note for you at the end.