by Jann Rowland
Mr. Bennet made a growling sound in his throat but did not speak. Thinking it prudent to continue the discussion without further mention of Wickham’s proclivities, Darcy said:
“If they are still in Brighton, we will remove Miss Lydia from the charge of the commanding officer and returned to her home.”
“And Wickham?” asked Fitzwilliam.
“He and I shall then discuss the relative benefits of his new beginnings in the New World, and I shall make him understand it is a new start or debtors’ prison.”
“Good,” responded his cousin.
“But let me be understood,” said Mr. Bennet, speaking in a tone which brooked no disagreement. “I will bear the expense of shipping him away.”
“Wickham is my responsibility,” said Darcy.
“But it is my daughter with whom he is intending to abscond. Thus, I claim the right of dealing with him. You have done enough.”
Darcy had no intention of allowing Mr. Bennet to have his way, but it seemed now was not the time to have that discussion. Mr. Bennet had continued to speak, regardless, so Darcy put the matter aside to attend him.
“If Mr. Wickham has already fled, we shall track and find them. Though I am loath to have my daughter married to the man, if she has already been . . . compromised, there is no choice but to insist upon their marriage. But if she is not, I mean to see him prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”
“It is unfortunate you did not give me more information,” said Fitzwilliam. “Had I known the full extent of the situation, I could have had a pair of good men join us. They could have traveled ahead of us, alert for any other carriages traveling toward London at speed.”
“Well, let us hope he has not yet had time to put his plans into motion,” said Mr. Bennet.
“The driver knows to be vigilant as we proceed past London,” said Darcy. “Though he will have no way of knowing if a carriage contains our dear friend, he will report any suspicious activities.”
Fitzwilliam snapped his fingers and turned to Darcy. “You have a pair of footmen traveling with us, do you not?” At Darcy’s nod, Fitzwilliam said: “Then have one of them take my horse and ride ahead of us. He can perform the same duty as I would have assigned to men under my command.”
It was an excellent idea, and Darcy tapped on the roof of the coach, signaling the driver to stop. As Thompson was his most trusted footman—and one whom Wickham feared—Darcy decided to keep him with the carriage. Fortunately, Rogers was adept with a horse and could be trusted to travel quickly and discreetly and find his way to the next inn they were to visit, situated in Epsom.
After the instructions were given and the sounds of Fitzwilliam’s horse faded into the distance, the carriage once again began to move. The foursome sat back in the carriage seats, considering what they had decided. Fitzwilliam, Darcy knew, was searching their plans for any holes, adjusting them in his mind as he went. If he thought there was something in particular they needed to consider, Darcy was certain his cousin would speak up and inform them.
When he spoke again, however, it was with a question, one which Darcy had pondered since their departure from Longbourn. “If we have the good fortune and come upon Wickham and Miss Lydia somewhere between London and Brighton, how do you mean to approach him? Can he expect the same fate as he would have if he had made it to London undetected?”
“Leave that to me,” said Mr. Bennet shortly.
Darcy and Fitzwilliam shared a quick look, understood by both even though seeing the other was difficult with the lack of light. “Pardon me, Mr. Bennet, but I do not quite understand. What do you mean to do?”
“I will only know when we have come upon the scoundrel,” replied Mr. Bennet. “It may be possible to extract Lydia from his clutches in that situation, for it seems unlikely her virtue would have been compromised irrevocably. It is still my preference to see the man in prison, but I may be amenable to giving him over to your custody to see him gone from these shores forever. That is, of course, with the understanding of my financial involvement in his departure.”
“I feel I should caution you, Mr. Bennet,” said Fitzwilliam. “It would be best to avoid dealing directly with Wickham.”
“Do you think me so little in control of my sense of outrage?”
It seemed Mr. Bennet was amused rather than offended. Fitzwilliam, sensing this, responded: “You are a father, indignant that a man would treat his daughter in such a cavalier fashion.”
“I doubt Mr. Wickham is only cavalier in his treatment, Colonel,” muttered Mr. Bennet.
“That is exactly it,” replied Fitzwilliam. “It is a short distance from indignation to rage. Should we discover Wickham, either on the road or be forced to search for him in London, your ire will become all that much more pronounced. Wickham is adept at using any chink in a man’s armor against him.”
Considering what he had seen added to their luggage atop the coach, Darcy was quick to second his cousin’s comments. “I agree with my cousin. As I am familiar with Wickham, you should leave the negotiations with me. I am better prepared to withstand his insolence and am only peripherally connected to the situation.”
“At present, perhaps,” said Mr. Bennet, amusement again coloring his voice. “But you would not remain in such a state for long, would you?”
There was no reply to the gentleman’s statement, so Darcy did not even make the attempt, especially with Fitzwilliam laughing by his side. He could sense, rather than see, Miss Bennet’s embarrassment, but she did not say anything either.
“Just because you will not say it, does not mean it is not true,” continued Mr. Bennet when Darcy would not speak. “Be that as it may, I shall consider your words and concerns, Mr. Darcy. I shall defer to you in the event, only if I believe it is for the best. But I shall consult my own conscience regarding what is best to be done.”
It appeared they would receive no other promise from the gentleman, and as such, Darcy nodded in response. And, so, they traveled on into the night, preternaturally aware of every sound from beyond the confinement of the carriage. But there was little to be had, and as they were all largely silent, the rumbling of the wheels, the snap of the driver’s whip, and the thunder of the horses’ hooves against the road were their only company as they continued south.
Chapter V
Excitement, the thrill of being on the road, of traveling into an uncertain future can only sustain one for so long, when nothing of significance occurs. In time, the soporific effects of the swaying of the carriage took their toll, regardless of what the travelers heard outside. While they passed through London, the sound of the coach’s passage was louder on the cobbled roads, and there were signs of life there, as there was activity at all hours in the sleeping city.
When they reached the countryside beyond, the effect became all that much more pronounced. As she drifted along with the motion of their passage, Elizabeth noted with a clinical detachment that her father had surrendered to sleep, and the state was one which soon beckoned Elizabeth to its embrace.
Though she had no notion of when it had happened, the teasing sounds of low voices brought Elizabeth to consciousness again, though it was a pleasant floating sensation rather than a return to full wakefulness. As a result, Elizabeth did not move, though once again conscious, and her eyes remained closed. Slowly she became aware of the conversation which had caused her to awake, and while it was conducted in low tones, she found she could hear it clearly, as if it was meant for her ears alone.
“I must own, Darcy, I cannot account for how you managed to get yourself caught up in this.”
“Should it not be obvious?”
A snort told Elizabeth what Colonel Fitzwilliam thought of his cousin’s reticence. “Well, your interest in Miss Bennet was clear to any who cared to look, though you should be thankful it escaped Lady Catherine’s notice.”
“When does Lady Catherine see anything except what she wishes to see?”
“Which is fortunate, indee
d. Mr. Collins, of course, is equally blind, which also must be beneficial for you, as the moment he knew, Lady Catherine would also have known. But I am convinced Mrs. Collins was well aware of it, too, though that lady is capable of circumspection.
“But for a man to seek out a woman who once refused him is astonishing, Darcy, especially one with your character.”
“I am not so inflexible.” Mr. Darcy sounded aggrieved.
“No, you are not. But you are slow to change. From your recitation of events, I might have thought the matter beyond all hope.”
Elizabeth almost gasped. Mr. Darcy had informed Colonel Fitzwilliam about his failed proposal! Then again, she had told Jane. Colonel Fitzwilliam must be the closest Mr. Darcy had to a brother, so, perhaps, it was not so surprising he had confessed it.
“You are perfectly aware I would not even have informed you had you not badgered me incessantly.”
“To risk sounding like Lady Catherine, I am your closest cousin and, as such, am entitled to know all your dearest concerns. You require someone to ensure you do not make a hash of everything.”
The quiet chuckle informed Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy found his cousin amusing. “Someone, indeed.”
“Well, how do you account for it?”
“It is quite simple. After leaving Kent, when you were away in the north, I was caught up in reflection, and while it was hard to acknowledge, I realized I had not behaved well. Though Miss Bennet’s accusations had been grounded, to a certain extent, in misinformation—”
“Spread by a vicious cur.”
“Indeed. But even with Wickham’s efforts, I had given her no reason to think well of my character, making her even more vulnerable to Wickham’s poison. When I realized my misbehavior, the question became whether trying to change her opinion of me was worth the effort.”
A quiet laugh echoed in Elizabeth’s ears. “I will wager that did not take you long to determine.”
“The work of a moment. But I did not feel I could return to Hertfordshire in good conscience with the matter of Bingley still unresolved. So, I returned to Pemberley, used the opportunity to attend to Miss Bennet’s reproofs and attempted to change my way of thinking while biding my time, waiting for him to return from visiting his relations.”
“Was Bingley not intending to visit Pemberley this summer?”
“I canceled the invitation, instead, requesting his presence in London. When I received word of when he expected to return, I made plans to return to London myself.”
“That must have pleased his harpy of a sister. No doubt she was all anticipation of measuring the drapes for her triumphant entrance as the estate’s mistress.”
“I care little of what Caroline Bingley thinks, for she has all but become a persona non grata to the Darcy family.” The disgust in Mr. Darcy’s voice was tangible. “The woman insinuated to Miss Bennet that she hoped for a closer connection between Bingley and Georgiana, and this in a letter intending to sever her friendship with Miss Bennet’s sister.”
A low whistle was Colonel Fitzwilliam’s response. “You must acknowledge, the woman possesses audacity to spare.”
“Perhaps it will serve her well in the marriage mart, though I know no one who wishes a shrew for a wife. As it is, she is now under no illusions concerning my intentions toward her.”
“It may make her desperate.”
“Since I will not be in her company, it will serve her little. I hope to be engaged by the time she has an opportunity to be in proximity with me again.”
A pause ensued, in which Elizabeth felt the prickling sensation of suspecting oneself to be the focus of another’s scrutiny. “She is a lovely young woman, Darcy. I commend you for not only recognizing it, but also for doing what it takes to gain her approval.”
“I took long enough to recognize it.”
“But you did. That is the important part. I have long thought you would not do well in a society marriage to an heiress with nothing in her mind but advancement and wealth.”
“Which is why I have remained unmarried as long as I have.”
“Miss Bennet will be a sensation in society. There will be those who will not appreciate her and those who will inevitably look down on her for her humble origins. But she will shake them to their cores, and if they have wit enough to see it, they will be improved by the experience.”
“I cannot agree more,” said Mr. Darcy quietly.
The gentlemen fell silent, allowing Elizabeth to consider all she had heard—sleep was now the furthest thing from her mind. To know Mr. Darcy valued her as highly as this was gratifying, provoking a warmth in Elizabeth’s breast for both gentlemen. It was also reassuring to know at least one member of Mr. Darcy’s family would accept her.
Of greatest astonishment, however, was the knowledge of all Mr. Darcy had done to improve her opinion of him. When she had refused his proposal in acrimony and recrimination, Elizabeth had thought it certain the man would go away, quickly learning to congratulate himself on the fortunate nature of his escape. The thought he might accept her reproofs as a reason to improve himself had never entered Elizabeth’s thoughts.
What woman cannot feel all the compliment of a man willing to change his ways to excite her approval? Such actions must be the greatest of all compliments, the pinnacle of love bestowed upon another. For the first time, Elizabeth could confess to herself that Mr. Darcy’s attraction to her had been no less than pure, abiding love, which had endured despite all that had passed between them.
The question then became, what Elizabeth should do with this knowledge. And the only answer which made any sense was to attempt to discover if she could return his regard. There could be no greater task than to discern for herself if she was compatible with the man who valued her so much. And if she discovered she could not return his feelings, it would be best to release him, as gently as possible, for she would not profane his feelings by feigning her own. The notion that there was something wrong with her if she could not respond in kind she ruthlessly quashed—the human heart was a difficult organ to control. One could not command love on a whim.
It was not long after the overheard conversation that Elizabeth felt the carriage slowing. She opened her eyes, sitting up and stretching as if she had just come awake, noticing her father stirring by her side.
“Epsom, I presume?” asked Mr. Bennet as he came fully awake.
“I believe so,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“And the time?”
“Perhaps about half four?” said Mr. Darcy. “With a little more light, I could check my pocket watch.”
“Closer to five, I should say,” said Fitzwilliam.
“We should have all we need when we stop,” said Mr. Bennet. He glanced out the window, taking in the approaching inn. “No false dawn, so it must be earlier than five in the morning. What do you think, Darcy? Another seven to eight hours to Brighton?”
“If we can maintain the same pace,” rumbled Colonel Fitzwilliam. “The driver must be fatigued and there are the horses to consider.”
“It is possible I can arrange a change here,” said Mr. Darcy. “Once we stop, I can look into it. Thompson can drive the carriage if need be.”
They all nodded at his conclusion and waited as the carriage rolled to a halt. The younger gentlemen alighted first, followed by Mr. Bennet, who turned to hand Elizabeth out. The unbidden wish it had been Mr. Darcy to assist her crossed Elizabeth’s mind, but she suppressed it. Now was no time to think such silly thoughts.
As the gentlemen sprang to action—Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke to the driver while Mr. Darcy and her father inspected the horses—Elizabeth took the opportunity to stretch her legs, which had become cramped inside the carriage. The chill of the night air was invigorating, and the lovely aroma of the flowers which adorned the boxes around the building’s windows teased Elizabeth’s nose, the sight of which gave the inn a homey sort of feel. A glance about revealed a large yard in front of the inn, allowing Elizabeth to walk unimpeded
, and before long she began to feel like herself again.
A horse’s nicker caught Elizabeth’s attention, and she looked to the side, seeing some kind of small chaise drawn up on the edge of the yard. The sound of voices soon followed, and Elizabeth realized there were several figures standing in the gloom beside the conveyance. Though Elizabeth knew her curiosity should be aroused, given the potential her sister was somewhere along these roads that night, Elizabeth might have given the scene no further thought. But then she heard a giggle. Elizabeth knew that giggle!
Heedless of the consequences and with no other thought than to remonstrate her silly sister, Elizabeth stalked forward, around the chaise, to come upon a scene where two men and a woman were standing close together in conference. The men did not notice her presence, but the woman did. She lifted her head to regard Elizabeth with curiosity, and in doing so her face came into the focus of the dim lamp one man was holding. It was Lydia.
“Lydia!” cried Elizabeth, well aware her exclamation had come out more like a screech.
She surged forward, grasping her wayward sister by the arm, swinging her about. Astonishment bloomed in Lydia’s eyes. At the same time, Mr. Wickham noticed her presence. Turning to her, Elizabeth could also see his countenance, see the shock and sudden consternation coming over him.
“What manner of madness is this, Lydia?” cried Elizabeth. “Have you taken complete leave of whatever little sense you might once have possessed?”
“Lizzy!” exclaimed Lydia, ignoring Elizabeth’s words as she might have expected. “How droll it is to find you here, of all places! Are you also bound for Gretna Green?”
Patience exhausted with further evidence of her sister’s stupidity, Elizabeth reacted without thought. Of its own accord, her hand rose and impacted with Lydia’s cheek, the slap ringing out through the courtyard.
The sound of the altercation reached Darcy’s ears as he was speaking with his driver concerning the horses, Fitzwilliam standing nearby. It was not immediately apparent whence it originated, but a quick glance about informed Darcy there was a chaise nearby, and there appeared to be movement beyond it. Motioning to the footmen to follow him, Darcy strode toward it, the sound of feminine voices rising in anger reaching his ears.