Elizabeth Bennet's Excellent Adventure: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary (15 page)

Lydia flipped her hair across her shoulder in a gesture of dismissal.

“Has Mr. Wickham professed his love?” Elizabeth pressed.

“Has Mr. Darcy professed his?” Lydia retorted. “You possess no more dowry than do I.”

Elizabeth found her youngest sister’s naiveté frustratingly amusing.

“Unlike Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy does not require a fortune to marry, but to answer your question, Mr. Darcy has most eloquently described his affections.”

The thought of Mr. Darcy’s letter brought a slight blush to Elizabeth’s cheeks. The color added to the truth of her assertions.

Lydia crossed her arms over her chest and set her chin in an act of defiance, which Elizabeth recognized from previous experience with her younger sister’s tantrums.

“I do not care if Mr. Wickham is not as wealthy as your precious Mr. Darcy. George owns my heart. I will have him to husband.”

“But he cannot choose you,” Elizabeth countered.

“And why ever not?” Lydia snarled. “If we marry, any shame I brought to Papa’s name will be forgotten.”

Elizabeth knelt before her sister to capture Lydia’s hands.

“Even if Mr. Wickham loves you, another will be his wife. Have you not considered why Mr. Wickham avoids the calling of banns or a journey to Greta Green? It is because another woman carries his child, Lydia. The woman’s brother means for Mr. Wickham to marry her.”

Tears misted her sister’s eyes.

“You speak an untruth,” Lydia half pleaded. “You cannot know this.”

“I can,” Elizabeth insisted.

Although Mr. Darcy did not share the identity of the woman, it was obvious the woman’s brother was the one who attacked Mr. Darcy before our wedding day.

“The reason Mr. Darcy did not appear at the Meryton church was because this woman’s brother mistook Mr. Darcy for Mr. Wickham. The man’s hirelings attacked my intended and left him for dead. The brother means to force Mr. Wickham to make an honest woman of his sister.’

Silent sobs shook Lydia’s shoulders.

“But Wickham loves me,” she said through trembling lips.

Elizabeth doubted that possibility, but she said, “Who would not love you, for you are all that is sunshine.”

Elizabeth wrapped her arms about her sister to rock Lydia into soothing acceptance.

“Before this situation becomes more problematic, dearest one, I must know one thing: Did you permit Mr. Wickham intimacies?”

Lydia shook her head violently in the negative.

“Not at all. When George consumed too much ale, he pressed me, but I hid from him under the bed until the drink lulled him to sleep,” Lydia admitted. “Mama would not approve of my succumbing to the man before we spoke our vows.”

Elizabeth could not help but release the breath of anxiousness she held. Thank Goodness her sister practiced a bit of sense, and thank Goodness Mrs. Bennet taught Lydia a bit of propriety.

“I am proud of you,” Elizabeth whispered in Lydia’s ear. “Permit Mary to assist you in dressing. You will return to Darcy House with your sisters, and between us, we will discover a spectacular future for you.”

* * *

“Why are you here, Darcy?” Wickham groaned as he buried his face in his hands. “If I lost everything else, why can I not lose you?”

Darcy sat across from his former friend.

“Because you continue to make me part of your business by using the Darcy name in your dealings.”

Darcy sighed heavily: How often had he “saved” Wickham from ruin? More times than Darcy cared to consider.

“What did you hope to accomplish by bringing Miss Lydia to London?”

Wickham responded only with a shrug of shoulders.

Darcy meant to wait Wickham out, but Fitzwilliam, was not so patient. The colonel jerked Wickham backwards.

“Sit straight and answer your betters,” Fitzwilliam growled.

Darcy raised his hand to stay his cousin’s actions.

“I understand if you were desperate,” Darcy said in encouragement, “but why ruin Miss Lydia?”

Darcy prayed Wickham did not use Elizabeth’s sister as a means to inflict more punishment on Darcy.

Wickham closed his eyes in what appeared to be exhaustion.

“I thought when I reached London, I could borrow enough to book passage to America, but Sloane was always one step ahead of me.”

“Did you plan to take Miss Lydia with you?” Darcy pressed.

Wickham shook off the idea.

“Lydia had a few coins, enough for the hackney and this room, but I do not mean to spend a lifetime saddled to the chit.”

Darcy glanced up to note Elizabeth’s return to the room. A nearly imperceptible shake of her head indicated Wickham acted with the resemblance of honor. Darcy nodded his understanding.

“Then the colonel and I will leave you to your manipulations. Miss Lydia will come with me.”

Unfortunately, before Darcy stood to gather Elizabeth to his side, a figure filled the still open door, and Darcy’s plans for a quick retreat changed.

“
Who are you?
And what business have you within?” Fitzwilliam demanded of the stranger.

Darcy’s cousin held a gun pointed at the man.

Making certain Elizabeth remained from harm’s way, Darcy announced, “Although our acquaintance was of short duration, I believe, Colonel, this is Mr. Sloane.”

Wickham groaned his displeasure and closed his eyes again to block out the reality.

Darcy did not possess enough information on Sloane to know whether the man was dangerous or not, but he meant to protect Elizabeth at all cost, and so he shifted his weight to block Sloane from noting where she stood along the wall.

“How came you by this place?” Darcy demanded of the man.

Sloane’s shoulders indicated the man was uncomfortable.

“Invention is a key component of desperation. I suspect Mr. Wickham could teach us both something of desperation, Mr. Darcy.”

Sloane gestured with an open palm.

“Once I possessed a clearer head, I sent my men to return you to London, but you managed an escape. I know enough of your type to realize you would soon seek out Wickham. If the scoundrel used your family name, a previous connection existed between you. It was only a matter of time before you tracked down my soon-to-be brother in marriage.”

Darcy held no use for Wickham in his life, but he was sore to permit Sloane to berate the fellow.

“As I arrived prior to you, it would seem I have first claim on Mr. Wickham’s future,” Darcy said with a hint of a warning in his tone.

Sloane turned to take note of Elizabeth.

“Did the dastard ruin another?” Sloane said with a snarl of disapproval.

“If Mr. Wickham dared to touch my betrothed,” Darcy said boldly, “there would not be enough of him left to make a meat pie.”

Darcy knew the instant Elizabeth determined Mr. Sloane’s identity as the man who disrupted her wedding day. Love her heart! His lady possessed a quick mind, but she was no actress. Her emotions were on display for the world to see, and Darcy knew from experience that her temper boiled over. Mr. Sloane was in for a set down.

“Your betrothed?” Sloane’s eyebrow rose in curiosity.

“Yes,” Darcy hissed, adding fuel to Elizabeth’s ire. “The woman for whom I purchased a ring at Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell upon the day your hirelings kidnapped me.”

“Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell,” Elizabeth whispered on a tearful gasp. “You were to have a ring made special for me?”

Darcy nodded his agreement.

“If I knew…” Sloane began, but the man did not anticipate the assault: not from Darcy, but from Elizabeth.

“How dare you? You call Mr. Wickham a cad!”

She stormed forward to slap Sloane’s cheek before pounding upon his chest with her fists.

“Because of you I stood before a congregation to be rebuked as undesirable!”

Elizabeth punctuated each of her accusations with a punch or a jab.

“I never saw my wedding ring! A ring from His Majesty’s royal jewelers! Nor did I enjoy the wedding breakfast! My wedding dress lies in rags! You ruined it all!”

Sloane ducked his head, and Darcy laughed as he moved in close to capture Elizabeth about the waist to drag her from striking distance of the man. As unladylike as were her actions, Darcy suspected it did Elizabeth well to strike out at something. Keeping her emotions under cap was not to her benefit: Elizabeth Bennet was too passionate for meekness.

“Do you possess no control of your intended?” Sloane grumbled.

Darcy turned Elizabeth into his embrace. Another woman would be in tears, but his future wife still fumed over the injustices she suffered. He was in for a life of ardor.

Darcy chuckled as he caressed Elizabeth’s cheek.

“I fear not, Sloane,” he pronounced. “Neither do I wish to control my lady. Why would any man wish to contain the natural instincts of God’s most precious creatures when he could enjoy the beauty of their souls instead?”

Darcy caught Elizabeth’s hand to kiss her knuckles.

“You will possess a bruise tomorrow,” he said lovingly when he noticed the red mark upon the bone.

Ignoring all within the room, Darcy cupped her hand.

“Next time, my dear, do not tuck your thumb inside your palm. You could break it.”

Darcy adjusted Elizabeth’s fist so her thumb locked her fingers in place.

“In this manner,” he said as he rotated her fist upright. “And use the knuckle of your pointing finger and the middle one to strike your target. They are the two strongest bones in your hand, and you are less likely to know injury.”

He brought her knuckles to his cheek, and softly tapped them against his skin.

“Like so.” Darcy instructed.

Elizabeth’s eyes remained upon his features, and it pleased Darcy to realize she was not immune to him.

“Will you teach me?” Elizabeth challenged.

Darcy chucked her chin in a gentle caress.

“Late at night in Pemberley’s ballroom, there will be no one to criticize the master and mistress. You may choose whatever new experience your heart desires.”

Darcy had a few desires of his own to add to her list, but first he must win Elizabeth’s trust.

Elizabeth’s forehead rested against Darcy’s lapel as she digested what he promised. He held her close, but Darcy spoke to Sloane.

“We possess one potential husband between us, Sir. The question is who will win the cur.”

Sloane scowled.

“If not your lady, which woman of your acquaintance requires a husband?”

Darcy whispered to Elizabeth, “Would you bring your sisters in?”

She nodded shyly, which Darcy imagined was an emotion Elizabeth rarely experienced. She disappeared into the dark hallway. In less than a minute, Elizabeth reappeared with the Misses Mary and Lydia.

Sloane turned to look upon Elizabeth’s younger sisters.

“What are you doing here?” Sloane stammered.

Miss Lydia appeared confused, but Miss Mary’s eyes held recognition.

“Mr. Sloane,” the girl said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Miss Mary Bennet,” the man pronounced with a bow. “Miss Lydia.”

Elizabeth demanded of her middle sister, “By what acquaintance do you know this man?”

Mary glanced about the room to realize everyone’s attention was on her. The flush of color claiming the girl’s cheeks add a vibrancy not customarily found in Mary Bennet’s features.

“Mr. Slo…Mr. Sloane apprenticed with Uncle Philips, perhaps a year or more removed.”

“Fourteen months,” Sloane confirmed.

Darcy noted an interest shared by Sloane and Mary Bennet, but the issue of a husband for Miss Lydia still hanged over their heads.

“Why did you not recognize Miss Elizabeth, Sloane,” Fitzwilliam asked in suspicion.

“Mr. Sloane was only with Mr. Philips some three months before word came of his windfall. I believe Lizzy and Jane were in London with the Gardiners at the time.”

Mary came to the man’s defense again, a fact that did not escape Darcy’s notice. He did not think he ever heard the girl say more than a dozen words prior.

Sloane glanced to Darcy.

“Might we speak privately?”

Darcy nodded his agreement.

“Colonel, I assume you are comfortable in keeping Mr. Wickham company.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Fitzwilliam said with a devious grin. “Do not be long. I cannot account for the itch upon my gun finger.”

“As you decide my sister’s future, I demand to know Lydia’s options,” Elizabeth insisted. “Mr. Bennet would expect me to act in the family’s honor.”

“Do I not have a say?” Miss Lydia began, but three voices naysayed her objections.

“You will remain in this room,” Elizabeth instructed. “We shall not be long.”

Accepting Darcy’s proffered arm, Elizabeth moved to Darcy’s side. He adored her unconquerable spirit for the trait would prove valuable in the wilds of Derbyshire.

In the second room, Darcy and Sloane sat at a small grimy table while Elizabeth lit two rush candles for light.

Sloane sighed heavily before he spoke.

“I must speak in earnest, Mr. Darcy. If Mr. Wickham does not soon marry my sister Penelope, the world will know her shame. I am persuaded that I must persist in Wickham’s capitulation.”

“Even so, I must protect my future family. Miss Lydia traveled with Mr. Wickham for more than a week. Wickham served in the Meryton militia, and many in the neighborhood are already privy to the tale. I cannot simply return the girl to the bosom of her family.”

Elizabeth moved a straight-backed chair beside Darcy’s before slipping her hand in his. Darcy tucked it into his lap.

Sloane’s mouth set in a straight line.

“Both girls fell foul to a deceiver. I tell you, Mr. Darcy, it provides me no pleasure to claim Mr. Wickham to brother.”

“How many know of Miss Penelope’s fall?” Elizabeth asked softly.

It was hard to believe not a quarter hour earlier, she struck the man violently.

Sloane closed his eyes, battling the emotions crossing his features.

“It is only Penelope and I,” he explained with what sounded of regret. “If I had my choice, I would prefer to remain Mr. Philips’ apprentice, but when my uncle passed, the opportunity to provide Penelope with a bit of society could not be ignored. Unfortunately, bringing the mines up to snuff consumed more of my time than I anticipated. I left Penelope to her devices more often than I should.”

Elizabeth asked with sympathy, “And your sister possesses a sizable dowry?”

Darcy studied her features: Even without Darcy’s letter regarding Georgiana’s shame, Elizabeth claimed a knowledge of Mr. Wickham’s character. It took Elizabeth longer to arrive at the truth, but she did, nevertheless.

“Some fifteen thousand pounds.”

“Significant,” she remarked.

A long silence followed.

“If Mr. Darcy and I were to permit Mr. Wickham to claim Miss Sloane, we remain at a loss as to Miss Lydia’s future. Mr. Wickham would use the opportunity to blackmail one of you to present him an exorbitant sum to protect your family name.

“I was considering whether you might desire a wife, Mr. Sloane. Those in Meryton would accept my sister’s joining to one of Mr. Philips’ former associates, and needless to say, when Miss Sloane marries, you will require a mistress for your household.”

Darcy glanced to Elizabeth. She could not possibly believe that Miss Lydia would make Sloane a good wife. The man’s mannerisms were antiquated at best.

Without a turn of her head, Elizabeth answered his question. She squeezed his hand and held tight to Darcy’s fingertips as a warning for Darcy to hold his tongue.

Sloane’s frown lines deepened.

“From what I recall of Mr. Bennet’s youngest daughter, we would not suit. I am some ten years Miss Lydia’s senior. Moreover, I require a woman not concerned with frills and satins. Mining communities are unique. A girl of Miss Lydia’s disposition would dwindle into a hopeless soul for lack of society.”

“Then support us with another who will serve the girl,” Darcy insisted. “I would be willing to set a reasonable dowry upon the girl if you know of one in need of a wife.”

Sloane’s gaze sharpened.

“I might possess a candidate. I thought to press Penelope into accepting him, but my sister professes her love for Mr. Wickham.”

“Tell us something of this man,” Elizabeth encouraged. “I am certain Mr. Darcy has a like list of suitable matches for Lydia, but we welcome your insights.”

Darcy created such a list only last evening, but no viable candidates surfaced.

“The man is Welsh and a former sailor. A captain in the Royal Navy.”

Elizabeth shared, “Lydia fancies a man in a uniform.”

“His name is Owen Vaughan. His father is the foreman for my Welsh mine, but Owen received a gentleman’s education. He is five and twenty. Young for a man of his responsibilities.”

“And his countenance?” Elizabeth asked.

Darcy realized Lydia would consider the man’s features important.

“Fair of face,” Sloane remarked. “Towheaded. Stoutly built. His father wishes the lad to marry into the gentry. Vaughan is a war hero.”

Elizabeth glanced to Darcy, and he asked the question upon both their lips.

“Can the man afford to marry?”

“Vaughan earned prize money in the war,” Sloane explained.

Darcy shook his head to clear his thinking.

“The man appears a better candidate than Mr. Wickham. Why would you choose to strap your sister to a man of Wickham’s character?”

Sloane looked off as if he could imagine his sister.

“First, I am a highly principled man. It would bother me greatly to bind another to Miss Sloane while she carried Wickham’s child. If Mr. Wickham was a casualty of war, I could more easily see my way clear, but I am a firm believer in a man claiming his children.”