Elizabeth Bennet's Excellent Adventure: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary (14 page)

“Wickham blames you for all the miserable choices he makes,” she declared. “George’s woes serve him well. Most women will champion a man of fine countenance when they believe him beset upon. Mr. Wickham learned that lesson early on.”

Darcy easily recalled Elizabeth’s defense of his former friend.

“As your allegiance to Mr. Wickham brought you upon hard times, I would think you would wish to sever the connection.”

“Not so easily done, Mr. Darcy, but I shall not trouble your lack of empathy with a tale of misplaced connections.”

Mrs. Younge barred her teeth in a parody of a smile.

“I shall accept your kind offer of a payment for my services, Sir. As always, Mr. Darcy, it is a pleasure to be the recipient of your patronage.”

* * *

Elizabeth called upon her mother early before Mrs. Bennet broke her fast.

“You are home, at last,” her mother said with ritualistic drama.

“It was late when I arrived last evening. I looked in upon you, but you slept so I claimed my bed also.”

Elizabeth caught up the brush resting upon Mrs. Bennet’s dressing table.

“Why do I not style your hair while you wait upon Mrs. Hill to bring you a tray?”

Her mother pushed up in the bed, and Elizabeth slid in behind her. She released the cloth holding Mrs. Bennet’s long braid to run her fingers through her mother’s hair.

“Your hair is so beautiful,” Elizabeth murmured as she worked the tats from Mrs. Bennet’s locks.

“Little good it does me,” her mother declared with a tut of disapproval. “The only use of a full head of hair is to attract a gentleman. Unfortunately, once a woman reaches a particular age, society demands she cover her head with a mobcap or a turban or some such nonsense.”

Elizabeth smiled at her mother’s distraction. She heard Mrs. Bennet bemoan the eccentricity of society on more than one occasion.

“It would seem to me in your own home that you might choose to style your hair as you wish. I imagine Mr. Bennet would approve,” Elizabeth mused.

Her mother huffed her disbelief.

“Mr. Bennet would order me to my quarters!”

Elizabeth taunted, “Mayhap he would follow you there.”

“Elizabeth Bennet!” her mother exclaimed. “Who taught you of such intimacies?”

As predicted, Mrs. Bennet blushed, but Elizabeth noted the secret smile upon her mother’s lips: An idea took root.

“I know nothing of intimacies,” Elizabeth swore. “However, I like the idea that my parents hold an affection for each other.”

“Mr. Bennet finds me a foolish woman,” her mother said in regret. “Take my lesson to heart when you marry, Lizzy. I failed Mr. Bennet by not producing an heir for Longbourn. Any affection your father once held for me is long absent.”

Elizabeth braided her mother’s hair before she responded.

“Knowing Papa, I would imagine Mr. Bennet considers his failures, not yours. Mayhap as your daughters leave home to claim marriage, you might remind Mr. Bennet what brought you together. If Mr. Collins is to know Longbourn, it would do me well if you and Mr. Bennet saw a bit of the world at the good cleric’s expense. I am not suggesting you bring ruin to Mr. Bennet’s tenants; yet, no reason exists for you and Papa not to enjoy the fruits of your labors as good masters of your land.”

“When did you become so wise, Lizzy?”

“I possess my father’s analytical mind, as well as my mother’s passion for life.”

Elizabeth spent the next quarter hour assuring her mother than Mr. Bennet searched for Lydia and that her father recruited the assistance of Mr. Darcy and his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“As we all well know, Mr. Darcy and the colonel hold an acquaintance with Mr. Wickham since childhood,” Elizabeth reminded Mrs. Bennet.

“Do you think it possible the gentlemen erred in their estimation of Mr. Wickham’s character? Surely Wickham intends to marry our dearest Lydia.”

Her mother’s agitation rose again.

Elizabeth did not wish to add to Mrs. Bennet’s anguish, but it was important for her mother to consider the fault in Lydia’s actions.

“Mr. Wickham spread his version of his life as the late Mr. Darcy’s godson. It took me too long to recognize the deceptions the gentleman practiced. Perhaps if I were not so enthralled by my particular opinions, I might have warned Lydia against such manipulations.

“No one erred in his evaluation of Mr. Wickham except me. This madness rests upon my shoulders for when fissures of doubt touched my reasoning, I did not proclaim them as loudly and as widely as I once praised Mr. Wickham’s goodness.”

Elizabeth’s declaration appeared to stun her mother. Mrs. Bennet frowned her disapproval.

“At least you may still claim Mr. Darcy. I am not best pleased with the man, but I could forgive him if the gentleman means to make you the Mistress of Pemberley.”

Tears rushed to Elizabeth’s eyes, and she blinked them away.

“Oh, Mama, I shall not know a return of Mr. Darcy’s attentions. The gentleman cannot claim a wife whose family is buried in shame. Lydia’s foolishness will mark all your daughters; and even if Papa can force Mr. Wickham to marry our Lydia, Mr. Darcy will not join his family with one that welcomes Mr. Wickham as its son. Mr. Darcy will cut all ties with me.”

* * *

“Cowan located Mr. Sloane,” his cousin announced as he entered Darcy’s study.

Darcy glanced to the colonel and smiled.

“And I possess directions for Mr. Wickham.”

The colonel poured himself a drink.

“You are bloody brilliant,” Fitzwilliam declared after taking a large swallow of the French brandy. “How did you know where to look for the dastard?”

“I held directions for Mrs. Younge on Edward Street. The woman traded Mr. Wickham’s location for a few coins.”

Fitzwilliam scowled his dissatisfaction of Darcy’s paying for the information.

“The old adage of honor existing among thieves is lacking in this situation.”

Darcy shrugged his response.

“What might I say? The purse is mightier than honor. Now, tell me what Mr. Cowan learned of Sloane.”

“The man lets a house off Edgeware Road going toward Paddington. Sloane recently inherited two copper mines: one in Cheshire and one in Wales. It is said he did not know much of mining when he inherited, but many praise his quick intelligence. I understand Sloane was originally intent upon studying the law. Cowan claims Sloane possesses a sister of twenty years, who recently withdrew from her social engagements, although it is rumored the girl remains in Town at her brother’s London house.”

“I suppose we know why Sloane searches fro Mr. Wickham,” Darcy said with dread. “I pray Elizabeth’s sister acted with better sense.”

“If not, it would be to our advantage to reach Wickham before Sloane. The cad cannot marry both women. When do we track Wickham to the ground?”

Darcy glanced to the ormolu clock upon the mantel. His lips twisted into a wry smile.

“In about three hours.”

* * *

Mr. Hill discovered Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary tending to the household mending in the small parlor.

“An express Miss Elizabeth,” the servant said as he handed Elizabeth the letter.

She recognized the familiar slant of her name upon the paper. Setting the sewing aside, Elizabeth rose to walk to the window in a pretense of requiring better lighting before breaking the wax seal.

“Who is the letter’s author?” Jane called in a tone that said her sister already knew the answer.

“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said. Soft longing filled her throat as she unfolded the single sheet.

“Does Mr. Darcy have word of Lydia?” Mary inquired.

Elizabeth ignored her younger sister; Mr. Darcy’s salutation claimed Elizabeth’s attentions.

My most beautiful Elizabeth,

Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth knew a blush claimed her cheeks, and hope crept into her heart.

This letter will be short, not because I possess little to speak to you, but because I have much to say, and the words must be spoken for your ears only.

For now, know that I located Mr. Wickham, but I require a member of your family to convince your youngest sister to return to the bosom of her mother’s embrace. I know Mr. Bennet is in Brighton with Colonel Forster, so I ask that you join me in London. Assuming you would agree to the sense of this request, I sent a carriage to bring you to Darcy House. Although my sister and Mrs. Annesley are with me, it would be best if one of your sisters traveled with you.

So, my darling girl, I pray you will return to my side, where you belong, not only to aid my efforts to save Miss Lydia, but also to claim my surname. My heart aches to hear yours beating in perfect complement to mine. You are my beginning and my end, Elizabeth.

                                                                      Yours always, FD

“Well?” Mary demanded.

Elizabeth clutched the letter to her chest.

“Mr. Darcy has word of Lydia. He requires my assistance to convince Lyddie to return to Longbourn.”

She turned to her wide-eyed sisters.

“Which of you wish to journey to London?”

It took her less than an hour
to hustle Mary into Mr. Darcy’s carriage, which arrived with a quarter hour of the gentleman’s letter. Elizabeth knew she should know irritation that the man easily anticipated her response, but all she could consider was the possibility they might still claim a joining.

Jane reasoned she held the most experience with Mrs. Bennet’s “nerves,” and Mr. Bennet would not be happy with Kitty’s absence for Kitty knew of Lydia’s elopement and said nothing to her parents. Therefore, Mary became Elizabeth’s traveling companion. Mary rarely held the opportunity to journey to London, and Elizabeth liked the idea of exposing Mary to a better society than found in Meryton.

At length, Mr. Darcy’s coach halted before a stylish Town house in Mayfair. The gentleman’s footman opened the door to set down the steps.

“This way, Miss,” Murray extended his hand into the coach, and Elizabeth accepted the footman’s assistance.

She glanced up to the entrance to observe Mr. Darcy and his sister coming to greet her. Elizabeth’s eyes did not leave the gentleman’s, but she smartly greeted Miss Darcy with a quick embrace.

As his sister moved forward to welcome Mary, Mr. Darcy caught Elizabeth’s hand to place it upon his arm.

“No embrace for me, Miss Bennet?” he murmured under his breath.

Elizabeth sighed as the familiar zing of his contact claimed her skin. Why did she not previously recognize Mr. Darcy’s power over her?

“Not upon the street, Sir,” she chastised.

The gentleman chuckled.

“There is my adorable termagant. You hold no idea how much I missed your scoldings. But know I mean to discover a private moment designed especially to hold you in my embrace.”

Elizabeth’s heart raced with anticipation, as color claimed her neck and chest.

Mr. Darcy gave instructions to his servants.

“We will be going out again. Keep the coach close.”

Elizabeth looked up at him in confusion.

“You mean to retrieve Lydia this evening?”

Mr. Darcy leaned close to whisper, “Another man searches for Mr. Wickham. It is rumored that my former friend ruined the man’s sister.”

Elizabeth could not disguise her surprise, but she permitted Mr. Darcy to escort her into his house where Colonel Fitzwilliam awaited them.

“As you can observe, my cousin is most anxious to be about our business,” Mr. Darcy said in what sounded of tired amusement.

Elizabeth nodded her understanding. Although she and Mr. Darcy held other considerations, Lydia’s situation took precedence.

“If Miss Darcy or your housekeeper will show us to our rooms, Mary and I will freshen our hair and remove the road dust. We will return momentarily.”

* * *

Darcy watched her climb the stairs of
his
house and smiled with satisfaction. Hope spread through his chest. Elizabeth arrived in London to save her youngest sister, but a part of him prayed she meant to accept his hand again.

“I did not think Miss Elizabeth would come on such short notice,” Fitzwilliam said softly from behind Darcy.

Darcy watched Elizabeth until she was from sight. The gentle sway of her hips fascinated him more than it should.

“Neither did I,” Darcy admitted. “Certainly Miss Elizabeth worries for her sister’s well being, but I cannot stifle the need for the lady’s forgiveness.”

The colonel snorted his disapproval.

“I would say it is Miss Elizabeth who should beg for forgiveness, not you. The lady did not trust you enough to seek an explanation for your absence nor did she act with prudence in her impetuous retreat. You are the one who suffered at the hands of Mr. Sloane’s hirelings.”

Darcy looked upon his cousin with interest.

“Odd, it is that even with your numerous conquests of some of the
ton’s
most delectable beauties that you possess no knowledge of a woman’s pride. Having to stand before friends and foes with a chin raised in defiance requires a special kind of woman. The questioning looks and the sniggers behind cupped hands create wounds more dangerous to the heart than any blow I suffered at the hands of my assailants. My ribs heal, and my scars and bruises disappear, but Elizabeth has yet to know that I would attempt to walk on water to prove my love for her.

“My absence, though no fault of my making, wounded not only her pride, but also Elizabeth’s self confidence. She spent a lifetime with a mother who spoke of Miss Bennet’s beauty and Miss Lydia’s vivacious spirit. None of Elizabeth’s most charming qualities are among those her mother declares as what a man desires in a wife.

“And although Elizabeth decries her mother’s lack of sensibility, Mrs. Bennet’s voice remains the small one in Elizabeth’s head that says, ‘No man will ever truly esteem you.’ It is no wonder my intended ran away. How could any person not flee from the idea that he is despised?

“No, Fitzwilliam, it is I who require forgiveness for I denied my love for Elizabeth even from myself, for like her, I feared to be found wanting. While Elizabeth is under my roof, I plan to do all within my power to correct her misunderstandings.”

* * *

“You ladies should wait here until we all certain Mr. Wickham is not armed,” Darcy warned in a soft voice.

They stood several feet removed from the room the tavern owner claimed occupied by Mr. Wickham and a young girl.

“We understand,” Elizabeth whispered as she caught Mary closer to her.

Darcy knew pride in how well Elizabeth kept control of her emotions. He realized how devastating it was for her and Miss Mary to witness how low Miss Lydia’s chosen alliance to Mr. Wickham brought the girl. Some of London’s most unsavory-looking residents populated the tavern’s common room.

As Darcy turned to rejoin his cousin before the door, Elizabeth caught his arm to stay his steps.

“Be careful, William,” she said with a bit of tremble lacing her words. “I could not bear it if…”

She did not finish her warning, but Darcy heard Elizabeth’s breath catch when he caressed her cheek. He fought the urge to embrace her.

With a knowing look of promise, he said, “I possess something for which to know care.”

Reluctantly, he turned to the door. Darcy wished to be finished with this business with Wickham so he might turn his thought to a contented life with Elizabeth. With a nod of approval, he motioned Fitzwilliam to use the key they acquired from the tavern owner to unlock the door.

He and the colonel and the ladies held their collective breaths as the bolt clicked its release, and then chaos erupted. Fitzwilliam shoved the door wide to send it banging into the wall. Bursting into the room, the colonel tackled Wickham as Darcy’s old chum reached for a gun upon the table. Furniture exploded from the weight of the men as they wrestled upon the floor. The vehemence with which the colonel pummeled Wickham’s body did not surprise Darcy. Fitzwilliam long desired to punish Wickham for Wickham’s attempted seduction of Georgiana.

Meanwhile, Darcy caught a screeching Lydia Bennet and dragged her from where she attempted to pull the colonel from Wickham’s back.

“Cease your protestations!” Darcy ordered as he gave the girl a good shake.

Miss Lydia swung around to clip Darcy upon the point of his chin with a half open fist. Before Darcy could react, Elizabeth rushed into the fray to jerk her youngest sister upright.

“Lydia Bennet, I shall thrash you within an inch of your life,” Elizabeth declared, “if you persist in this behavior.”

Darcy wished he possessed the time to congratulate her. Elizabeth knew the exact tone to take the wind from the sails of a spoiled child. Their children would pray never to rile their mother so. Somehow, the idea pleased Darcy.

Shoving his thoughts of sweet domesticity to the side for the moment, Darcy made his way to where Fitzwilliam and Wickham still struggled. Bending over the pair, Darcy cocked his Queen Anne pistol and pressed the nozzle into Wickham’s temple.

“Move another muscle, and I will see your brains upon this floor,” he growled.

Wickham went still, but the colonel presented his opponent another short punch to Wickham’s kidneys before ceasing his assault.

Crawling off Wickham’s back to stand, Fitzwilliam straightened his uniform. Other than his hair and clothing in disarray, there was not a mark upon the colonel.

“Not felt so hearty after a round of fisticuffs in many a year,” Fitzwilliam proclaimed.

Mr. Wickham could not say the same. The side of Wickham’s face and neck were red and bruising where the colonel rained down blows upon Wickham’s head. There were numerous cuts upon his face and knuckles, likely from where Wickham attempted an escape.

“Stand,” Darcy instructed.

As he stepped back, Fitzwilliam bent again to catch Wickham by the scruff of the neck to haul him to his feet before slamming Wickham into a chair.

“Such good cheer.”

The colonel grinned with satisfaction.

A whimper caught Darcy’s attention. He looked up to observe Elizabeth wrapping one of the blankets from the bed about her sister. It surprised Darcy to realize he did not notice the girl’s state of undress when he and the colonel entered the room.

Sidestepping the broken furniture, Darcy moved to Elizabeth’s side.

“Escort your sister to the room next door,” he said softly as he pressed the room key into her hand. “Make certain she is dressed properly.”

Elizabeth nodded her understanding.

“Mary, assist Lydia to the next room along the hall. I shall follow with her dress and brush.”

As Mary Bennet placed an arm around a sobbing Lydia Bennet to lead the girl away, Darcy caught Elizabeth’s arm.

“I realize this is awkward, but I must know if Mr. Wickham stole Miss Lydia’s innocence. You must press your sister on this matter and then bring me the news. It is necessary to know whether to insist that Mr. Wickham marry her or to pay another to claim her,” he whispered for Elizabeth’s ears only.

She stared up at him, her eyes widening from the magnitude of what Darcy asked.

“I shall not fail you,” Elizabeth said, at length, and then she followed her sisters from the room.”

* * *

Elizabeth set her shoulders before entering the room Mr. Darcy let at an exorbitant cost for the facility in order to protect her sister. She glanced to Mary and willed her sister to silence before approaching Lydia.

As was typical, Lydia hiccupped her way through accusations against Mr. Darcy and the colonel.

“I will hear no more of your allegations,” Elizabeth chastised as she shove a handkerchief into Lydia’s hand.

“But, Lizzy,” Lydia began; however, Elizabeth caught her sister’s chin and lifted it roughly so Lydia might better view Elizabeth’s determination.

“The man you defame is my intended, Lydia. If you expect sympathy from me you will speak of Mr. Darcy with a civil tongue.”

“Mr. Darcy is not your betrothed,” Lydia charged. “Mr. Wickham told me Mr. Darcy traveled to Brighton because your affianced thought you with Wickham.”

Elizabeth schooled the shock from her expression. The fact that Mr. Wickham tossed her reputation about struck another blow to Elizabeth’s pride.

“Mr. Wickham exaggerates his appeal,” she bluffed. “Think upon it, Lydia. If Mr. Darcy were not meant to be my husband, why would he seek you out? Why would Mary and I accompany him? Do you think Papa would permit Mr. Darcy to act in his stead if Mr. Bennet did not consider Mr. Darcy as family?”

Lydia shot a glance to Mary, and Elizabeth prayed the third Bennet daughter would not betray the ruse Elizabeth practiced.

“Elizabeth acts with Mama’s permission,” Mary assured.

Elizabeth smiled at Mary. She knew it would go against Mary’s strong faith to speak an untruth, so Mary chose the next best option: She told Lydia the truth and left the insinuation to Lydia’s interpretation. Mrs. Bennet encouraged Elizabeth and Mary to bring Lydia home.

Lydia’s bottom lip protruded in frustration.

“Even so, what business do Mr. Darcy and his cousin have with Mr. Wickham? It is none of Mr. Darcy’s concern if George and I elope.”

“It is my concern,” Elizabeth accused. “And Mary’s. And Jane’s. And Kitty’s. Your foolishness marks all your sisters. Do you think Mr. Bingley will marry Jane if your wanton actions become known? And how could the entire neighborhood not learn of your shame? You did not even have the good sense to choose someone unknown to all of Meryton.”

“Mr. Wickham will marry me,” Lydia argued. “Then all will be forgiven.”

“Has he said so?” Elizabeth demanded. “I wonder why he would. It is not as if Mr. Bennet can provide you a hefty dowry. Do you forget how Mr. Wickham abandoned us all when Miss King received her inheritance? We were nothing to him. I admit at the time I justified Mr. Wickham’s desertion, presenting him credit for acting to secure his future; yet, nonetheless, the truth is Mr. Wickham requires a wife with a substantial dowry. He cannot think to marry for love.”

“Perhaps you are jealous that Mr. Wickham chose me over you–that it is I that he loves.”