“If only he had…” Mrs. Bennet shook her head. “Lizzy is handsome, but no one can like her manner after she talks to them for a while. Too forward, too much learning. Arrogant. It is all my useless husband’s fault. I told her to tell Darcy she would do anything for him. But she couldn’t grab him. She isn’t worth the food we are feeding her.”
“Hear, hear,” Mr. Phillips said.
“Fanny, you…you wanted Lizzy to become his mistress?” Mr. Gardiner was pale. “I have never been so ashamed to share your blood, not even when you became a bankrupt despite having had ample funds.”
Mr. Phillips said, “It would have been better than what Lydia did. Ha! Lizzy, I bet you wish he’d asked you. But you couldn’t catch him, not so capable as Lydia, are you.”
“You gave me such hope.” Mrs. Bennet pointed accusingly at Mrs. Gardiner. “You said that you’d heard he seduced the daughter of his steward, so he wouldn’t have any objection to taking a gentlewoman. You said that according to your correspondents he had just left his previous mistress. You said it might be the only reason a gentleman with those habits would spend so much time with Lizzy. All our problems would have been solved if Lizzy got him to give her a good price. But she couldn’t land him. You are a worthless girl, and I wish I’d never given birth to you. It is your fault Jane hasn’t married.”
“He asked me!”
Elizabeth clapped her hands over her mouth. She couldn’t believe Mama had made her admit that.
Mr. Gardiner scowled heavily.
Mr. Phillips said, “Did you let him take you, and he then ran off without paying? I can’t believe you wouldn’t let him swive you.”
“No!”
“Really, are you lying to make us think better of your virtue?”
Elizabeth pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. Jane grabbed her other hand.
Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, “You horrid, horrid daughter. I ordered you to encourage him. And then you treat me like this. I shall never speak with you again.”
“I am proud of you.” Mrs. Gardiner moved next to Elizabeth and put her arms around her. “He was a very bad man and a practiced seducer. It must have been difficult to stay firm. And I know you thought highly of him, it must have hurt greatly when you discovered he was never your friend.”
“He isn’t like that. He was my friend.”
Mr. Gardiner said, “Do not make excuses for him. Only a depraved rake would make such an offer to any woman, let alone a gentlewoman. It shows he has no respect for serious matters. I am only glad he accepted your refusal. Do not mourn for him. He never thought about your happiness at all.”
Elizabeth jumped up. “You misjudge him. He did care about me. He…he is a good man.”
“Now, Elizabeth…”
“No! I’ll not hear you insult him. You don’t understand what sort of a man he is.”
She left the room and went outside, cursing herself for having said anything. It was at moments like this that it hurt most. Usually she managed to not miss him. He didn’t deserve to be thought of as a heartless rake. Elizabeth knew she was close enough to the girl Mr. Phillips thought she was, that if Darcy had been a heartless rake when they stood in those woods, he could have had her.
But he also had never returned.
That night there was a party at Longbourn.
Every year Charlotte and Mr. Collins threw a large dinner party to celebrate the new year. It was not a full ball as the rooms at Longbourn were not large enough to permit more than six or seven couple dancing together once the drawing room had been cleared of its furniture.
However, the parties were always fine entertainments.
This year was a costume ball, but no theme had been set. Elizabeth and Jane wore panniers and tall horsehair wigs which had belonged to their grandmother when she was a young woman. Despite the efforts to clean their costumes some dust remained in the wigs.
The rooms were cramped as more than a dozen families and half the militia officers were there. However, Elizabeth loved the laughter and eager conversations. Charlotte’s punch mix was always tasty and not too strong, and there was plenty of food and different people to talk to. Elizabeth was able to dance several reels in the crowded drawing room.
It was not a rowdy party as Charlotte and Mr. Collins, with some help from Sir William, were able to quiet any groups of guests that got out of hand.
Elizabeth noticed that Jane and Bingley talked together several times. They had studiously avoided each other or acted as the most distant acquaintances for several weeks after Darcy left, but slowly the stiffness had faded away. Bingley was very engaged in the local society, and he and Jane encountered each other too often and in too wide a variety of circumstances for a complete separation to be maintained without real effort.
Bingley wore a long red cape, a short sword, and a coat with leather strips attached to it to make it look like the armor of a Roman centurion. He carried the look off well and Elizabeth watched him flourish the cape with an eager gesture as he talked to Jane. Perhaps Darcy hadn’t destroyed every possibility of him falling in love with Jane.
Late in the evening Wickham approached Elizabeth. He looked dashing with a mask that covered his eyes and a highwayman’s cloak.
Elizabeth had avoided him since the night they met. Even though he’d told the truth about Darcy, Elizabeth didn’t trust him.
“Miss Elizabeth! Are you eager for the New Year?”
Elizabeth smiled uncomfortably. “I am.”
“I know I offended you. I wish to apologize. This has preyed on my mind. I did speak with the best of intentions, but as nothing came of the matter, it would have been best if I said nothing.”
“No — you warned me. I am the one who ought to apologize.”
Wickham’s eyes lit up and he replied with an eager whisper. “So he did — I was right — and you really refused the request?”
Elizabeth was annoyed by Wickham’s evident pleasure at this news. “I do hope you enjoy whatever revenge you feel you’ve gained for the destruction of your sister’s honor.”
“Tell me, was he crushed? It must’ve shocked him exceedingly to be refused. Almost no one refuses a Darcy.”
Elizabeth remembered the expression on Darcy’s face. Darcy hadn’t looked like a spoiled boy. He had looked like a man in love.
Wickham slapped his palm against his mouth. “I must be the worst sort of blackguard. The worst sort. I have been so self-centered — I ought to wish for your sake I had been entirely wrong. Whether he was hurt, you certainly were.”
Elizabeth’s eyes felt tight and sad. She would not cry in front of Mr. Wickham.
“I admire you — you face it so well. The time I was — the time a lady broke my heart, I did not bear up as well as you do.”
Elizabeth looked at him. Mr. Wickham’s eyes were sympathetic and handsome. He added, “Very few women in your position would have resisted Mr. Darcy. I admire you for your strength of character.”
She wiped at the tears which had formed. “He should not have made such an offer to me.”
“He should not have.”
Wickham briefly touched Elizabeth’s forearm. “You are still a little in love with him — don’t be. He does not deserve any of your heart.”
“I hardly know what to think. I opened myself to him, I told him so much, I trusted him.”
“Your trust was misplaced. He is a practiced seducer, and you are fortunate to escape his web.”
“No! He isn’t— Whatever Mr. Darcy is, whatever his failings, he is honest. He never lied to me, even when what he said would not help him achieve his purposes. He really wanted to be my friend, he was my friend. I cannot hate him.”
Wickham frowned and rubbed at his forehead. “You shouldn’t let yourself love him. There are other men — better men. Men with honorable intentions.”
She was tipsy, and though Wickham was not the man she wanted to share her feelings about Darcy with, it was hard not to keep talking. Since the
night she had told Jane, her sister had always had an edge about her when Elizabeth mentioned Darcy. It made it impossible for Elizabeth to really talk about her feelings with her sister. And Jane had stopped saying what she felt about Bingley.
Wickham was perhaps the only person she could talk to about Darcy who knew what he had asked her. Elizabeth said in a low voice, “You didn’t tell me the whole truth. He did not abandon your sister. He gave her four thousand pounds when they parted, and she is now married. I believe Darcy in this.”
Wickham’s face froze. He whispered harshly, “Four thousand pounds. She received four thousand…” He took a deep breath. “I did not know. I have not corresponded with my sister for several years. I do not have many correspondents left in Derbyshire. I had known she parted from him, and my anger at Mr. Darcy made me think worse of him than he deserved.” Wickham whistled. “Four thousand pounds.”
“You have few correspondents in Derbyshire?”
“I did something ill-advised in anger at my sister’s fate. My friends and relations still depend on the patronage of Darcy and his uncle, who are among the greatest landlords of Derbyshire. They were all told to end communication with me.”
“Oh.”
Wickham said, “I am frightened on your behalf. They are a vengeful family. Lord Matlock hounded me and tried to prevent me from finding employment. If you offended Darcy — if he did not take the rejection well — has he sought any revenge?”
“He counseled his friend Bingley to avoid my sister. But even if resentment added to his motivation, he would have done so in any case. Darcy is mostly a good man. Dissolute, not evil.”
“He might act in a way you do not expect — secretly harming your uncle’s business or something of the sort.”
“My, you are suspicious of Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth laughed. “My uncle says business has never been better.”
“I am glad he has not hurt you.” Mr. Wickham smiled charmingly at Elizabeth. “I must sound as though I am obsessed. I am glad for what you told me about my sister. I ought to write to her again. She did sin, but forgiveness should always be shown — and she is my sister.”
She had misjudged Wickham. “I am glad that you will. Family matters.”
“It is your doing.”
Elizabeth smiled at him and he smiled back. She realized from his look that he admired her. He was a handsome man who admired her.
She had drunk much from Charlotte’s punch and had a giggly enthusiasm for the next year. It would be better.
A shout came from the front hall. “Midnight — it is almost here.”
Everyone crowded into the entry hall where the tall clock was kept. Its pendulum swung back and forth and the hour hand was almost at twelve. The Collinses’ footmen handed everyone tall glasses of champagne, and when the hour hand clicked into place there was a big cheer and everyone drank their glasses.
Mr. Bingley began to sing Auld Lang Syne with a fine baritone, and most of the other guests joined him. When it was done people dispersed through the rooms, and the guests who planned to return to their own homes gathered in the vestibule to wait for their carriages.
Mr. Wickham stayed with Elizabeth, and they sat down in a dark corner of the dining room. It would be a good year. Elizabeth felt it. Her head swam from the alcohol and as they were still in costumes there was a dreamlike quality to the moment.
An old tradition said you should kiss the first person you met in the New Year, and with the thought that Darcy disliked him, Elizabeth went to kiss Wickham on the cheeks. He turned and caught her kiss on the lips.
Immediately Elizabeth drew away, but Wickham followed her and bent his head forward to kiss her again. Elizabeth pushed him back and shook her head.
Wickham said in a pleading tone, “You are so very beautiful, just one proper kiss.”
“No. By no means.”
Elizabeth stood and swayed slightly. She felt disgusted with herself. He tried to follow her, but Elizabeth pushed Wickham away again and went to sit in a different room.
That had been nothing like kissing Darcy. It would be gross to kiss anyone but a man she believed she loved.
Elizabeth returned to the drawing room with its space cleared in the center for dancing. A few couples danced a final reel while Mary played. Mr. Collins always encouraged everyone to leave or bed down a half hour or so after the new year began.
Elizabeth sat on a chair placed along one of the walls and listened to the music.
Jane came into the room and sat down next to Elizabeth. The candlelight was bright enough that Elizabeth could see her sister’s red cheeks and bright eyes.
Jane exclaimed, “I love costume parties — you feel so much freer, as though differences between people are removed. As though we were more as God made us. Do you not think so?”
Chapter 17
Darcy stared at the flickering fire. There were three days until the Twelfth Night celebration. He had decided not to marry Lady Margaret. He simply did not want to marry her, even though it was the right thing for him to do. She deserved to have a husband who wanted her.
He would explain to Radnor and Matlock tomorrow.
Richard interrupted his reverie. "Come, come. I need to talk to you.”
His cousin waved his left hand in a come along gesture while he held a bottle of whiskey and two crystal glasses in his other.
Most of the guests had retired for the night, including Lady Margaret and Georgiana. Darcy shrugged and followed his cousin. “Why can’t we talk about this in the drawing room?”
Richard pointed to a lit candleholder on a side table. “Grab that.”
“We are going somewhere without candles? Quite mysterious.”
“It is just a room I know where we won’t be disturbed. It won’t be used at this hour. I shall explain when we get there.”
Richard took them to a freezing and deserted sitting room on the top floor of the servants wing. Darcy clapped his hands and wished he grabbed a heavier coat while Richard used the candleholder to light the fire. At least the room was well supplied with firewood.
There was a large window, and Darcy looked out over the park at the stars and moon.
The room had a round wooden table with a half dozen comfortable chairs around it. Once the fire was established, Richard rubbed his hands together. “Perfect.” He pointed out one of the chairs and said, “Sit. Sit.”
Darcy did so and then watched with a raised eyebrow as Richard slammed the two tumblers he had brought onto small table, and proceeded to pour one of them to the brim before putting a strong dram in the other. “So what is this about?”
Richard pushed the glass he’d filled completely into Darcy’s hand. “Drink.”
With a shrug Darcy sipped at the strong whiskey.
“No — the whole thing.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Darcy stared at his cousin. He stared at the light colored liquid. He stared back at his cousin. It was from a good barrel. Darcy cautiously sniffed the glass. It smelled right.
Darcy took a large swallow and coughed lightly.
“Now finish it — I promise I’ll explain once you have.”
“That is a quite strong shot.”
“Are you worried you can’t handle your liquor?”
“No, just observing.” Darcy finished the whiskey in his glass, and Richard immediately poured another serving into it.
“Aren’t you going to drink yours?”
“Ah, a little. But too much would be counterproductive.” Richard stared critically at Darcy’s glass. “Finish half of what is in there, and I will tell you what I am about.”
“Richard.”
“Have I ever led you astray? Do not answer. Because of the affection you hold for me, and our long years of friendship. Because we are cousins.”
“Fine, but I’ll wrestle you to the ground and box you about the ears if I don’t think you had a good reason.”
“Oh, you’ll appreciate my reas
on.”
The glass had a thick wide bottom and was very full. This was a lot of distilled spirits to drink in about ten minutes. Darcy had not drunk so much in so little time since an incident during his last year at Cambridge that was impossible to remember. According to Bingley that was for the best.
He would not let Richard keep filling his glass until he was insensible.
Darcy gulped down about two thirds of the whiskey in the cup. It burned in his stomach, and Darcy settled the glass on the table. It had been three hours since dinner, and he could already feel the alcohol acting on his mind.
“So why did you wish to get me drunk?”
“I’m going to pump you for information you would rather not give me. I thought my chances would be better if I kept my wits, and you did not.”
Though undignified, Darcy couldn’t prevent himself from giggling.
“Don’t you — ha, ha, ha — wouldn’t your effort be more likely to succeed if you didn’t reveal your nefarious scheme?”
“No, you would be annoyed and on your guard. Now that you know it, you will relax and not worry.”
“What am I going to reveal?”
“The reason you are dithering about asking Margaret to marry you.”
“Oh.” Darcy sat straighter. “It is none of your business — I’m not dithering. I don’t plan to marry her.”
“This is why I needed to get you drunk. You would’ve shrugged, and not said anything if you were completely sober. Tell me, why not? It is not because you don’t want to take her to bed. She is by far the best looking creature on this estate and you know it.”
“She is too young. And Georgiana doesn’t like her much.”
“Georgiana doesn’t like most people.”
“Yes, and her sister-in-law should be one of those rare woman who she does get along with perfectly.”
The cousins looked at each other. Darcy’s face felt flushed and a little numb.
“Hmmm.” Richard took a sip from his whiskey. “Finish your glass. You aren’t drunk enough yet. Go on — I know your tolerance; I won’t let you get sick.”
Part of Darcy wondered if Richard might have some useful advice. He tossed back the rest of the glass, and then impulsively said, “It is not Lady Margaret — if I imagined anyone else in her position, I would feel the same hesitation. The thought of facing that same person for the rest of my life… It is serious, and she does not feel right.”
A Dishonorable Offer Page 21