Pride and Precipice

by Lelia M Silver

  “Yes. His father, the late Mr. Darcy, bequeathed me a very generous scholarship to be used toward my advanced degree. He was like a father to me, and we were excessively attached. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the time came, it was given to someone else.”

  “I cannot believe it,” said Elizabeth. “How could Darcy do such a thing? Surely you could have contested the will if it was stated plainly in writing?”

  “Unfortunately, it was a rather informal understanding, and I had no hope of contesting the terms. If Darcy had been a man of honor, he would never have doubted that it was his father’s intention, but doubt he did. He even implied that I had forfeited all claim to it by my extravagance and imprudence during my early university days.”

  “Why would Darcy do such a thing?”

  “Well the fact of the matter is, I have a tendency to be rather unguarded in my temper and I may have rather frankly stated my opinion of him, to him. But I can recall nothing worse. In the end, we are very different sort of men, and he hates me.”

  “What a shocking turn of events! I am surprised you haven’t said anything before now.”

  “Some time or another, someone will bring him down a peg, but I will not be the one to do it. I cannot forget his father, and until the time when I can, I could never defy or expose Darcy.”

  “Your sentiments do you justice,” said Lizzy, thinking that Wickham looked handsomer than ever after this impassioned speech. “But what could have been his motive? What could have induced him to behave so cruelly toward you?”

  “He has a thorough, determined dislike of me that I think is born from jealousy. His father’s love for me has been difficult for him to take from an early age. Had his father liked me less, I think Darcy might have dealt with me better. He does not have the temperament to deal with the sort of competition that was between us. His father often treated me with preference.”

  “I’ve never really gotten along with Darcy, but I never thought he would be capable of such malicious revenge and injustice as this.” After a few minutes’ reflection, however, she continued, “I do remember him saying one day at Netherfield that his temper is resentful and that his good opinion, once lost, is lost forever. I can hardly imagine the two of you growing up together, you are so vastly different in temperament.”

  He smiled at her. “And yet we did. We were born in the same county, within the same property. We spent a great deal of time together in our youth. We lived in the same house, played together, and were cared for by the same parents. My father began his life as a barrister, but he gave it up to take a job as the late Mr. Darcy’s steward and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was among Mr. Darcy’s closest friends and held in high esteem by that great man. Mr. Darcy often told me how obligated he was to my father’s supervision of his estate. Immediately before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy promised him he would provide for me, and I am convinced it was out of as much a debt of gratitude to be paid to him, as of the affection he had for me.”

  “And what of his sister? Surely, she could have exerted some pull on her brother and helped you receive what was rightfully yours.”

  He shook his head. “She is too much like her brother- very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and sweet, and extremely fond of me, but not anymore. She is a pretty young lady in her early twenties, but that is all I can really say of her. I wish I could call her amiable, because it gives me such pain to speak ill of the family, but I cannot.”

  “How can Charles, who seems to be good humor personified, be such good friends with Darcy? How can they get along? Do you know Charles Bingley?”

  “Not at all.”

  “He is the owner of Bingley Hotels and Hospitality Services and is the most sweet-tempered, amiable man I have ever met. He can’t possibly know Darcy’s true disposition, or he would never be friends with the man.”

  “Probably not, but Darcy can please where he chooses. He can hold a conversation if he feels it is worth his while. Among those he considers his equals, he is a very different man than how he treats those he supposes to be of less importance and interest. But I think we have had enough talk of Darcy. Let us move on to a topic that is less depressing. Your sisters told me your family has a visitor staying with them.”

  “I cannot guarantee that subject will not be depressing either, for my mother has declared she desires me to be kind to the man and I declare he is the most boring and ridiculous individual I have ever met.”

  Wickham laughed, his eyes dancing. “Do tell. It promises to be most entertaining.”

  “It may seem entertaining to you for the moment, but I promise after ten minutes in William Collins’ company you will be singing a different tune. He rambles on and on in the most dreadful fashion about his beloved new benefactor, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

  “You do not say!” Mr. Wickham looked quite shocked. “I cannot say I expected that name to come up. You know, of course, that Lady Catherine de Bourgh was a sister to Lady Anne Darcy. She is Darcy’s aunt.”

  Lizzy’s eyebrows shot up. “No, I did not know. I had never even heard of the lady before William Collins showed up on our doorstop bubbling over effusively about her.”

  The tinkling of the bell over the door put an end to their conversation, and Lizzy had to be content with what Wickham had told her. She bid him a hasty good-bye before he went to tend to his customer, and drove slowly back to Netherfield Park, her head full of Wickham and what he had told her.

  She sought out Jane in their office upon her arrival and related everything that had passed between George Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern, and hardly knew what to think. It was impossible for her to believe that Darcy could be so unworthy of Charles’ good opinion and friendship, and yet it was not in her nature to question the honesty of a man who for all intents and purposes appeared sincere. She could do nothing more than think well of both of them and to defend the conduct of each, throwing in the possibility of an accident or mistake.

  The necessity of work brought them both out of their musings, and Lizzy threw herself into the job as much from a desire to avoid contact with Darcy as to distract herself from thoughts of him and Wickham.

  In the intervening days before the party, she did her best to be absent from home, as William had taken to pestering her while she was there with frequent compliments and efforts to draw her into conversation with him. She really began to fear that her mother’s matchmaking attempts had actually made some progress, at least on him, even if she knew them to be futile on her part.

  She gave him no opportunity to propose a deepening of their relationship, work being a ready and honest excuse, and chose to ignore her mother’s hints, aware that they would only cause a dispute she didn’t want to deal with. William might never ask her out, and until he did, it was useless to quarrel with her mother about him.

  By the time the day of the grand opening rolled around, Netherfield Park had been restored to its original glory and Lizzy was proud to have had a part in the process. There was a brief interlude of peace in the middle of the day, when her workers had finished but the workers who were setting up for the party had yet to arrive. Jane was busy packing up their office and gathering the little bits and pieces that had somehow scattered throughout the house during their occupation, but Lizzy took a few minutes just to stand in the elegant lobby and breathe in all they had accomplished.

  It had once been a beautiful home, and it had become a gorgeous hotel. She was a little sad to see it lose that homey feel, although she and Jane had endeavored to preserve what they could of it in their design.

  But the fact of the matter was, it wasn’t a home anymore, despite all their efforts to make it feel comfortable and inviting. The families within these walls would come and go, but children would still laugh in its halls and slide down the banisters. People would enjoy it. And she had ensured that the home’s
history and authenticity had been preserved. There was even a small display in the gift shop that enumerated its past and the journey it had taken to meet its future.

  She was content. With every nail and dove joint she had let go, little by little. The memories were still here, but the nostalgia was gone. It was time to move on and let go of the little girl who had played here.

  She breathed in a deep lungful of air and she couldn’t smell the history anymore. She smelled the fresh flowers on display at the check-in counter and the alcoves that lined the lobby. She smelled plaster and paint as an undertone. There wasn’t a speck of dirt or dust in sight. Nothing marred the perfect finishes. And that was how it should be.

  Her job here was finished.

  Peace with her past here settled into her heart, and she smiled a final good-bye at the halls that shone brightly, restored to the picture of health. The house felt happy again, with a purpose and a future. That was how she wanted to always remember it.

  She ran her hand along the chair rail and gave it a final pat before turning on her heel to hunt down her sister. It was time to get ready for the party.

  *****

  As usual when there was a big event the entire family was attending, the house was in an uproar when Lizzy and Jane pulled into the driveway. They could hear their mother before they even opened the front door, lamenting their late arrival.

  The sisters shared a smile and stepped inside, bracing themselves for the hectic activity that enveloped them as soon as they entered.

  Mrs. Bennet paused on the stairs to survey them with a critical eye. “What are you two doing here? Don’t you have appointments at the salon downtown? We should all be so lucky to have the opportunity to have someone else do our hair and makeup.”

  “We just stopped by to drop off some stuff and pick up our dresses,” Lizzy told her. “We’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

  Charles had insisted on the appointments, and to own the truth, Lizzy was glad for the respite from her family. They could be more than a little intense when there was a big party to go to, although Jane usually tried to shield her from the worst of it by helping her with her hair and makeup.

  And as much as she enjoyed having Jane do her hair and makeup, she was glad that Jane would have the opportunity to enjoy such pampering herself. She knew her sister was looking forward to it.

  Mrs. Bennet harrumphed and tromped back up the stairs, disgruntled with her daughters. Lizzy and Jane exchanged amused glances and then followed her up to retrieve their gowns. A few minutes later, they pulled their car up to the barn behind the house that served as the company office and dropped off the tubs of stuff they had packed up from Netherfield Park.

  After that, they drove off toward Meryton, their spirits high. There was a lot of laughter in the car as they sang along to the radio and teased each other good naturedly about the night ahead.

  Charles had already asked Jane to save him a dance, and Lizzy was making the most of that information. Unfortunately, William Collins had also managed to corner Lizzy while they were at home and wrangle her acceptance of the same thing, and Jane wasn’t going to let her forget it.

  They arrived at the salon and were immediately taken off to different rooms for their treatments, and they did not meet up again until their transformations were complete. Lizzy paced the lobby of the salon, waiting for Jane to make her appearance.

  She was clad in an emerald chiffon gown that floated around her legs and narrowed at the waist to skim her slender curves. The weather in November was significantly chillier than it had been at the end of September, so this dress had long sleeves and a scooped neckline. She was completely covered up, but the dress gave her a graceful silhouette that was the polar opposite of what her usual jeans and t-shirt did for her.

  She felt elegant in it, but she couldn’t help but remember the last time she had on a dress this nice. That time Darcy had made her feel like a child playing dress up with his “barely tolerable” comment, and she wasn’t sure she could overcome the lingering self-consciousness to find the confidence she really needed to pull off the look.

  Her hair was half up and half down, her curls tamed into submission and tumbling down her back in a voluminous mass. Her makeup was deceptively natural, highlighting her luminous verdant eyes and her high cheekbones.

  The good news was she still recognized herself in the mirror. The bad news was she certainly didn’t feel like herself. The click of heels on the tile floor behind her had her turning around to watch her sister walk toward her.

  Jane looked absolutely gorgeous- exactly as Elizabeth had expected her to. With an already beautiful canvas to start with, it was impossible for the finished product to be anything less than amazing. Charles was going to be picking his jaw up off the floor when he saw her.

  Her gown was a deep eggplant, with black lace detailing over the bodice and down one side of the skirt. The neckline was a v, but not deep. It was a figure flattering dress without being immodest, which was the epitome of Jane’s style. Her blonde tresses were piled on top of her head, showing off her long, slender neck and elegant carriage. The makeup artist had given her a smoky eye and sultry look that was more daring than Lizzy was used to seeing on her, but it worked with the venue and the occasion. Jane couldn’t help but attract attention in that getup.

  “You look gorgeous,” Lizzy greeted her sister, clutching her purse in one hand as she leaned in to wrap Jane in a hug.

  Her sister leaned back to survey Lizzy’s own look. “You look pretty good yourself, sis.”

  Lizzy grinned and did a little twirl. “Why, thank you!”

  Jane laughed. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I know you are,” Lizzy teased, laughing at Jane’s eagerness to get on the road. “I think Charles isn’t going to know what hit him when he sees you.”

  “I certainly hope so. Is the car here yet?”

  “Yes,” Lizzy said, her mood going from uneasy to buoyant at her sister’s smile. “Let’s go.”

  Upon entering the ballroom at Netherfield Park, she quickly determined that despite his professions that he would be there, Wickham was not on hand. She was disappointed that he had allowed Darcy’s presence to keep him from attending, and even more annoyed that Darcy’s influence was so great as to deny her the pleasure of an evening spent in company with an amiable young man.

  When he caught up with her a few minutes later to exchange pleasantries, she was hard pressed to be civil. Darcy picked up on her ill-temper, but was unsure what to do about it. He wasn’t used to dealing with women and their emotions, with the notable exception of Caroline Bingley, and even then he did his best to stay out of her way. His sister, Georgiana, was young and he had not spent enough time in the same household as her to experience the full gamut of a woman’s emotions.

  Lizzy was also distracted, her eyes scanning the room for William Collins in an effort to avoid him. Now that she knew she wasn’t going to have the enjoyment of a dance with Wickham, she was less than thrilled about the possibility of sharing a dance with William.

  Because she was so distracted, Darcy caught her off guard when he asked, “Would you like to dance with me?”

  “Okay,” she murmured, and then realized what she had agreed to when he took her hand to lead her on to the dance floor. By that point, she couldn’t exactly refuse without being rude, and since the man had been her employer after all, she figured she could handle one dance without disgracing herself or Bingley Hotels.

  As they settled on to the dance floor, Elizabeth shivered as Darcy’s hand wrapped around her waist. It was hard to think with the warmth spreading through her body and his heady scent in her nostrils. They were silent as they danced, and Lizzy toyed with the idea of remaining so, until the thought occurred to her that the greater punishment to him would be to engage him in a droll conversation he would abhor.

  A slight smirk on her face, she made an observation on the song. He replied in like, and then silence descended upon the
m once again. After a few minutes, she said, “It is your turn to say something now, Darcy. I commented on the music, now you could remark on the turn out tonight.”

  He smiled. “Do you talk as a rule while dancing?”

  His teasing tone took her by surprise, and she struggled to hold on to her annoyance with him. “Sometimes. You have to say something, you know. It would look odd if we didn’t speak at all.”

  “I would think that the guests would have more important things to discuss than whether or not we’re talking.”

  “I think you underestimate the power of gossip. You, by reason of your wealth and consequence, will always incite talk regardless of whom you choose to dance with.”

  He grimaced, his features going stiff as he surveyed the room and noted the number of eyes trained on them.

  Lizzy noticed his wandering gaze and grinned at his discomfiture. “The good news is that Jane and Bingley are doing their part to distract the attention from you.”

  His eyes found Bingley dancing with her sister and a slight frown marred his handsome features, but he didn’t comment on the couple. Lizzy wondered at the meaning of that frown. Surely, he was just as happy for his friend as she was for her sister. She didn’t want to think otherwise. He had already given her enough reasons to dislike him without adding another grievance to her long list.

  After a few more minutes, Darcy asked, “Did you and Jane enjoy your day out with Caroline?”

  Feeling a little naughty and curious about what his reaction would be, she said, “We did. We had just had the pleasure of making a new acquaintance when you and Charles met up with us at the café.”

  The effect of her words was immediate. His back stiffened and his jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything for a long time.

  Finally, he managed to say between gritted teeth, “Wickham is blessed with such happy manners that he makes friends easily. Whether or not he is capable of keeping them remains to be seen.”

  “He’s been unfortunate enough to lose your friendship, and in a manner that he’s likely to suffer from for the rest of his life.”