by J P Christy
“This spite. I believe I am the one Caroline wishes to remove from the marriage market. Unfortunately, sir, you were caught in the crossfire of a battle we did not know we were in.”
“Then let us see what we can do to free ourselves.” Any intelligent person will recognize this idiotic situation for what it is. Bless your sensible self, Elizabeth, for not overreacting.
Together, they checked the windows but found them painted shut, not unusual for an estate of this age. Upon returning to the door, Fitzwilliam said, “I could break through it using the fireplace tools, but the noise would likely attract attention.”
“Could you pick the lock with hairpins?”
“Possibly.”
Elizabeth gave him some hairpins, causing a few curls to tumble from her coiffure and stepped back so as not to block the light. Bending from the waist, Fitzwilliam endeavored to pick the lock; however, the goat saw only an appealing target, and before Elizabeth knew what the animal was about, it reared and charged.
Fortunately for the colonel, when he was butted against the door with surprising force, his arm rather than his head took most of the impact. Biting off a vulgar swear, he asked in a strained voice, “Miss Bennet, would you please control the animal?”
Choking back a laugh, for she was truly sorry for his pain, she exclaimed, “I do apologize!” Removing her sash, she looped it twice around the kid’s neck and held on tightly.
Kneeling this time, Fitzwilliam renewed his attempts to pick the lock. Eventually, there was a satisfying click, and he gave Elizabeth a pleased look. “I believe our troubles are over.” Rocking back on his heels, he pulled the door open.
“Out of the frying pan,” she murmured, seeing the crowd in the corridor—and at the front was Darcy with a key in his hand.
Standing behind Darcy, Caroline exclaimed shrilly, “I am shocked, Miss Eliza, to find you here with Colonel Fitzwilliam!”
Fitzwilliam moved to stand protectively by Elizabeth, who glared at her accuser. “Are you shocked, Miss Bingley? It was you who directed us here to save Georgiana from Wickham, and then you locked us in.” Seeing Caroline’s smug look, Elizabeth breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. The goat, sensing its cap-tor had relaxed her grip, dashed out of the room.
Mrs. Bennet was first to enter the music room, followed by Collins, Caroline, the Hursts, Jane, and Bingley. Before Darcy could join them, Georgiana and Charlotte were beside him in the corridor. “What has happened?” his sister asked.
“Dearest, I need you to go to my room and—”
“Do not send me away! I am not too young—”
“Georgiana, please listen! I need you to fetch something from my room. I will need it when I propose to Elizabeth.”
“Oh. Oh! Of course!”
“A velvet box is in the hidden pocket in my valise, the pocket where you left me notes when you were a child.” Gesturing to Bingley to join them, Darcy asked him, “Kindly escort my sister to my room, just in case Wickham is somewhere about.”
After Georgiana dashed away with Bingley at her heels, Charlotte touched Darcy’s arm. “You realize this is a nonsensical plot to discredit my friend.”
“I suspected as much.”
“I say only this: my husband can’t be trusted.” With a shake of her head, she walked away.
Darcy entered the room just in time to hear Collins scold, “Cousin, have you used your allurements to attempt to ensnare yet another of Lady Catherine’s nephews? For shame!”
“I want to know if Wickham is here,” Darcy spoke over him.
“Miss Bingley was the author of that tale,” Fitzwilliam said.
“I overheard a servant,” Caroline said. “As did Mr. Collins.”
“And a parson would not lie, would he?” Elizabeth glared.
Jane was suspicious. “Which servant did you overhear, Miss Bingley? Mr. Collins?”
Unwilling to abandon her fiction, Caroline said, “I cannot recall; servants all look the same.”
“Male or female? Old or young?” Jane pressed.
“I cannot recall!” Caroline repeated, exasperated.
“Caroline, is this what you were plotting yesterday?” Clive exclaimed. “You fool no one!”
Ignoring her brother-in-law, she insisted, “What matters now is congratulating Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Eliza. Allow me to wish you happy!” She smiled broadly at her victims.
Louisa, who had edged herself into a corner, gave a brittle laugh and declared, “Such foolishness! I was here the entire time with the lady and the gentleman. Nothing untoward occurred—nothing!” she insisted, playing nervously with her bracelets.
As disbelieving looks were cast in her direction, Caroline said, “You were not here, Louisa. They were alone!”
“My dear, dear daughter is ruined!” wailed Mrs. Bennet.
“Nonsense!” Darcy exclaimed so forcefully that everyone fell silent. “Elizabeth Bennet is not ‘ruined’; Elizabeth Bennet is perfect.” When his eyes met hers, she smiled with such tenderness that he could not help but smile back.
“But Lizzy’s reputation is,” Mrs. Bennet insisted.
Fitzwilliam winked at Darcy before turning to Elizabeth. Taking her hand, he said, “I would be honored if you would consent to be my wife, Miss Bennet.”
Mrs. Bennet made a deeply satisfied sigh, thinking, The colonel has always looked upon me with a kinder eye than ever Mr. Darcy did, and the colonel’s father is an earl! “Oh, sir, such a gentleman,” she said, ignoring Elizabeth, who closed her eyes and shook her head. “Why our family—”
“A moment,” Darcy interrupted. Nudging his cousin, he said, “If you please, sir.” Grinning, Fitzwilliam released Elizabeth’s hand, bowed, and stepped aside. She met Darcy’s gaze directly, and when he held out his hand, she placed hers in it. “Oh, another moment, please.” He removed his left glove and then removed her right glove before taking her hand again. They shared a knowing look, enjoying the warmth of skin against skin. Addressing Mrs. Bennet, Darcy said, “In the eyes of society, it matters little whom your daughter marries; it matters only that she marries.”
“Well, yes, I suppose—”
Sensing that an annoying bout of dithering was on the tip of Mrs. Bennet’s tongue, Darcy turned his attention to Elizabeth. “The machinations of your odious cousin and Miss Bingley,” he squeezed out her name between clenched teeth, “appear to take away your freedom, Miss Bennet. I assure you that you do have choices. You can accept my excellent cousin, who admires and respects you. Or you can accept a proposal from me, a man who admires and respects and most ardently loves you. Or ….” His gaze swept over the others in the room.
“Or?”
“Or you can consign us all to Hades, particularly those two,” he nodded at Caroline and Collins, “and I will ensure that you have the resources to create whatever sort of life you dream of.”
With Bingley but a step behind her, Georgiana rushed into the room, stumbling to a stop beside her brother. “Did you ask her?” she inquired, breathless from her errand.
“I did.”
“Did you say ‘yes’?” Georgiana asked Elizabeth.
“A moment, please,” Elizabeth said. She smiled at Fitzwilliam. “In such cases as this, Colonel, I believe, it is the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the offer tendered. I sincerely thank you for the honor. But I must decline, because I care for you —in a sisterly way—too much to consign you to a life without,” she paused to smile at Darcy, “the ardent love you deserve. Yes, Mr. Darcy, I will be your wife and a devoted friend to Georgiana.”
Darcy nodded at Georgiana, who opened the velvet box. With his free hand, he plucked a sapphire ring from it and slid it onto the third finger of Elizabeth’s right hand. “Please accept this as a token of my love,” he said and kissed her lightly on the lips.
When they separated, Elizabeth was blushing, but her voice was bold. “As for the wickedness of Mr. Collins and Miss Bingley, we shall have our revenge by
being very happy. Ours will be a life of joy and abiding affection at Pemberley or in London or wherever we wish to be. I ask only, Mr. Darcy—my dearest Will—that those two never be permitted into our home.”
“Agreed.” Darcy gave stern looks to Caroline and Collins. “Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable. Go! This is now a family matter; thus, it does not involve you.”
As Caroline, Collins, and the Hursts exited, Mary hurried in. “A goat ran into the ballroom! Two servants are making certain it is securely penned in the stables, but the odd thing is, the goat had Lizzy’s sash around its neck.” She held out the sash to her sister.
Fitzwilliam grinned. “The goat is the odd thing; the sash is merely the odder thing.”
Mrs. Bennet waved at Mary. “Come wish Lizzy happy. She is to marry Mr. Darcy.” In a somewhat flat tone, she added, “I suppose you will come back to Longbourn now, Lizzy.”
Seeing the panicked look on Elizabeth’s face, Jane put an arm around Mrs. Bennet’s shoulders. “I agree that Lizzy should go to Longbourn for a few days. So, you, Mama, will stay with us while she is there.” Walking her mother into the corridor, she added, “I know you have ideas about refurbishing Netherfield. I have had little time to consider such things, what with Papa’s illness and my marriage, so I wish to hear your thoughts.”
After they departed, Bingley asked, “In my absence, did you learn where the goat came from? My sister is too fastidious to trouble herself with a farm animal.”
“I suspect the culprit is Collins,” Darcy said.
Fitzwilliam said, “After Miss Bingley directed Miss Bennet and me to this wing, she said she would fetch you gentlemen.”
Elizabeth said, “When we arrived at this room, the door was closed, but we heard a loud noise—a crashing sound. I feared a struggle was going on, so we ran in.”
Fitzwilliam said, “Before we knew it, your sister had locked the door behind us. I doubt Wickham was here this evening.”
Glancing around, Bingley asked, “What was the crash?” Elizabeth pointed to the hearth, where a large Chinese vase lay in pieces. He smirked. “Oh, one of Caroline’s purchases. How tragic.”
“You may also wish to have this rug cleaned,” she said.
Wincing, Bingley laughed. “A small matter.”
“Well, Darcy, Miss Elizabeth, it is finally done,” Fitzwilliam said, nodding approvingly. “Your misunderstandings are resolved, and you are betrothed. In a few weeks, there will be a wedding, and you will have your happily ever after.”
Exchanging glances with Elizabeth, who was giggling softly behind her gloved hand, Darcy stammered, “I … we … yes.” He stopped trying to speak when she kissed his cheek.
Fitzwilliam offered Mary his arm. “Did you save a set for me, Miss Mary, or must I fight Ainsworth for the privilege of dancing with you?” Smiling, she took his arm, and they exited.
Georgiana embraced the couple. “This is the happiest day of my life! You are giving me the best of sisters.”
“Yet, we are superfluous now, Miss Darcy,” Bingley said. “Shall we leave them here with the door very wide open and the understanding that they will join us in the ballroom shortly?”
“Yes, for I know it is important to my brother and my new sister to set a virtuous example.”
“By the bye, the last dance of the evening will be a waltz,” Bingley added over his shoulder as he led Georgiana away. The newly engaged couple then heard him say, “It is a grave matter to be responsible for the reputations of one’s guests.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Darcy’s waist, pressing her cheek against his chest. “I am glad our secret is out.”
“As am I. Although after our disagreement the other day, I was not sure you would accept me. During our dance tonight, you would not meet my eyes, and you did not speak.”
“But I had already accepted you, and I am steadfast in my promises. As to our dance, I was embarrassed. I wanted to apologize, but the ballroom did not seem to be the place for it.”
“Excuse me, did you say you wanted to apologize to me?” Darcy looked around. “Is there a chair nearby? I may need to sit from the shock of it.”
At his smug smile, she said, “You are a terrible man.”
“So I have been told—by you, in fact. So … your apology?”
“As I am not yet a member of the Darcy family, I had no right to criticize your method of keeping Georgiana safe. I am sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“I know we will not always agree, but I trust we can discuss our disagreements as reasonable people. And I will always share your commitment to your sister’s welfare.”
“I do not regret the protectiveness I feel for her and for you.”
“Nor should you. Your protectiveness is one of the qualities I love about you.”
Darcy smiled broadly. “May I say once again that I ardently love and admire you,” he murmured before pressing his lips to hers. When he spoke again, he said, “Elizabeth, I never want you to be less than you are. Only a fool would fall in love with a lady and then demand that she change. I hope I am never such a fool.” She embraced him even more firmly, and he knew he had given her the reassurances she needed.
≈≈≈
By the time Bingley located his wife, she was at the bottom of the main staircase, instructing a maid to prepare a room for Mrs. Bennet. Placing an arm around Jane’s shoulder, he kissed her cheek. “The next time we have a ball, I suggest we do not put Mr. Collins or Caroline in charge of the entertainment.”
Jane laughed. “Or my mother, who, I promise, will only be here for two nights.”
“Are you saying that to comfort yourself or me?”
“Having Mama here is my penance for insisting that Caroline come to Netherfield. Also, Lizzy deserves some time with Papa. At least things have come out right for her and Mr. Darcy.”
“He has loved her for many months now—although I didn’t know it and, at first, neither did he. He changed for her, you know; he changed to be worthy of her.”
“I shall let Lizzy be the judge of that, but she, too, is altered, and for the better.”
“Now about this goat. Do we know to whom it belongs?”
“Mr. Collins claims ignorance, but suggested we consider it a wedding gift.”
“A wedding gift. Do we need a goat?”
“Let’s give it to the Laidlaws.”
“A very sensible plan, my love.”
≈≈≈
That night, Elizabeth returned to Longbourn with her younger sisters. At breakfast, the ladies chatted happily with Mr. Bennet, who was pleased to hear an account of a ball in which fashions were not the focus of the discussion. Lydia, who had been busy dancing every dance, was especially sorry to have missed the compromise and the goat, but everyone was pleased about Elizabeth’s engagement.
37
“Anne will be easier to rescue if she is in our territory.”
July 20, 1811
When Caroline entered the breakfast room on the morning after the ball, the only occupant was Mrs. Bennet, who hovered at the sideboard adding a few strawberries to a heavily laden plate. Upon seeing her son-in-law’s sister, Mrs. Bennet thrust her dish at a footman and instructed him to deliver it and a pot of chocolate to her bedroom. With a scornful look, she exited, but a moment later, she thrust her head back into the room to say, “I must thank you, Miss Bingley, for helping my Lizzy secure the richest man in Derbyshire!” Then she was gone.
Caroline consumed only a brioche and a cup of coffee before quitting the breakfast room; within half an hour she was pacing on the portico, preferring to wait outside rather than risk being snubbed again. Had anyone asked her, she would have said it was the kid that had ruined her plans. After all, what person intent on seduction would allow a rambunctious goat in the room? Thus, she blamed Collins for the disaster her life had become.
Late last night, as Louisa and Clive sat silently by, Bingley had told Caroline she would not have a home with
him; instead, he expected her to reside with their elderly widowed aunt in Scarborough, who was always eager for company. When Caroline gave Louisa an imploring look, which, for once, included genuine tears, Clive said that upon returning to London, she would not be welcome at the Hurst townhouse for more than two consecutive nights. As was her custom, Caroline responded in a loud rage, but it was cut short when Bingley declared she must either calm herself or spend the night in the stable with the goat.
I will not cry! she told herself fiercely as she waited now on the portico. After pacing for a few moments, she sat on the bench, but at the sound of the front door opening, she stood quickly.
Bingley stepped out, giving instructions to a footman to have the Hurst’s carriage brought around; upon noticing Caroline, he placed a restraining hand on the footman’s arm. “Gorse, was it you who told my sister that Wickham was in the house last night?”
Struggling to suppress a grin, Gorse replied, “No, sir.” Like all the servants, he was well aware of the incident in the music room.
“Do you know who did tell Miss Bingley such a story?”
“No, sir.”
“If you learn who told such a story, will you inform me?”
“Immediately, sir.” Grinning, Gorse walked to the stables.
For a tense moment, Caroline locked eyes with her amused brother. Finally, he said, “Please remind me, for I can’t recall—did you congratulate Darcy and Miss Elizabeth on their engagement?”
“I had a headache.”
“No doubt. Still, a few apologies would not have gone amiss.”
“Apologies?”
“Yes, expressions of regret for your plots and actions against Miss Elizabeth, the colonel, Darcy, Jane, and me.” When Caroline made no reply, he continued. “This morning, I asked my lovely wife whether you had apologized. As you had not, I encouraged Jane not to bother farewelling you unless there was something particular she wished to say. I told her I would bear the burden of telling you goodbye and Godspeed.”