Upon my word, can you believe what you are seeing?! TWO chapters in less than a week!
Happily, my Muse has stayed with me. Or maybe she has seen the need for me to be diligent and working on this book so that it can be published on time. Whatever the case, I am sure you all are as happy as I am to already see the story being furthered.
As always, my deepest thanks to everyone reading along, especially those of you who left a comment on the last chapter. I adore you all.
Chapter Ten
Darcy was pleased to be enjoying a quiet moment to himself.
Bingley was in a meeting with the steward, his sisters and Hurst had followed Mrs. Allen's example and taken a day trip to London, the Morlands and Mrs. Allen would not return until the following evening or Thursday morning, and Georgiana had gone into Meryton with Mrs. Annesley.
He had sighed with pleasure when he sat back in a comfortable armchair by a window in the library with a favorite book.
Darcy was therefore rather surprised to hear a carriage approaching not half an hour later. Glancing out the window, he saw that it was his own, and wondering if perhaps Georgiana had forgotten something, he went into the hall to meet her. He was surprised again when his sister all but threw herself into his arms, sobbing, as well as to see that Elizabeth Bennet accompanied her and her companion.
"Whatever has happened?" he asked with concern as he wrapped his arms about Georgiana's slim shoulders.
Mrs. Annesley and Elizabeth glanced at one another, then the latter said, "Miss Darcy believes she saw a gentleman in the village with whom she says she dared not meet."
"It was Wickham!" Georgiana cried as she stood back and wiped at her eyes. "He is here, in Meryton! Why is he here, Fitzwilliam? Has he somehow followed us?"
"I do not know," Darcy replied, just barely keeping anger from his voice. "I cannot imagine he would, after our last meeting."
He then looked to Elizabeth, noted her countenance was full of concern and her gaze settled on his sister. "What was Wickham doing when you saw him?"
Elizabeth blinked and looked up. "I… I cannot be sure. I only saw him as the carriage passed. He was standing with a militia officer of my family's acquaintance talking to my sisters and our cousin, Mr. Collins."
Darcy snorted. The militia—no doubt Wickham was in dire straits again and looking for easy employment to pay his way. Well, he would see to it that Colonel Forster was made aware of his old friend's proclivity for accruing debts he could not pay, though he had no idea how he would prevent the sure ruination of any number of young ladies in Meryton.
Theodore, he thought suddenly. Yes, indeed—his cousin could be of great service to him. Perhaps hearing the truth about his newest recruit, if indeed it was Wickham's intention to join the militia, would give Colonel Forster pause if he heard about his wretchedness from a fellow officer. He would send an express directly, but first…
"Mrs. Annesley, be so kind as to take Georgiana to her room, that she may refresh herself and rest."
Mrs. Annesley nodded. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. Come dearest," said she as she moved to slip an arm about her charge's shoulders.
Georgiana allowed herself to be led away, though she paused at the stair to bid a sniffly farewell to Elizabeth; in turn, Elizabeth wished her well. When the two were up the stairs and out of sight, Darcy looked to Elizabeth with a scrutinizing gaze and said, "Will you join me in the library, madam? I must speak with you regarding what happened."
"Of course, Mr. Darcy," she agreed with a nod.
Darcy turned and led the way, and being sure to leave the door open, moved across the room to the chair he had occupied before, though he did not sit. Nor did he speak until Elizabeth stood beside him.
"Doubtless my sister has told you the whole of our history with Mr. Wickham," he said.
"I could not say if it is the whole or no," she replied. "However, she did speak of their encounter in Ramsgate only this summer."
Darcy grimaced, and then proceeded to fill her in on the history of his family's connection with George Wickham. He was the son of his late father's steward, a year younger than himself, and in their youth they had played together. The elder Mr. Darcy's generosity had seen to it that Wickham was provided a gentleman's education, a generosity which was repaid in later years with gambling debts, drinking, and unspeakable behavior with women.
"All of this he carefully concealed from my father, of course, as well as his own, but I came to see him for what he really was," Darcy said with a sneer. "My father was so taken in by his charms, his appearance of goodness, that he left Wickham a legacy of one thousand pounds in his will. He had also made it known his hope that Wickham would make the church his profession, and told me of his desire that a valuable living in our patronage might be given over to Wickham when he was of age to take it."
"I assume you did not give it to him!" said Elizabeth. "With the picture you paint, such a man most definitely ought not be a clergyman."
Darcy looked to her with a wry smile. "Indeed, I did not. In fact, Wickham told me himself that he had no intention of taking orders, and asked that I grant him the value of the living instead. With a further three thousand pounds in his possession, he left Pemberley and we heard nothing from him for three years. It seemed, and I honestly thought it rightly so, that all acquaintance between us had been severed."
He went on to detail the first encounter with Wickham since their parting, by letter, when he had written two years ago to ask that he should grant him the living after all—and just at the time it was vacant. Darcy had naturally refused, citing his reasons why, and said that Wickham's response was full of such vitriol and strong language as could not be repeated. He talked of taking his sister from school that spring and setting her up at the family's house in London with a companion.
"In Mrs. Younge we were most unhappily deceived," Darcy said. "At Ramsgate, where she and my sister had gone for a holiday, after all was said and done and Wickham was gone, I learned of their prior acquaintance—she is apparently a relation of his by marriage."
"So his sudden reappearance in your sister's life after being out of it for some five years was undoubtedly by design," Elizabeth observed.
"Yes, and had I not decided to join her in Ramsgate a day earlier than planned, I should not have prevented the elopement," he groused. "Together they managed to persuade Georgiana that she was in love, so you can surely imagine her devastation when I revealed that only her fortune was his object, as well as some measure of revenge on me."
"What a wicked creature," said Elizabeth. "How can one man be so…so wretched?"
"By choice," Darcy replied immediately. "Like any man, he could achieve the riches he covets if only he applied himself more diligently. But Wickham's tastes are not what they should be, and he has inherited his mother's habits of extravagance."
He turned to face her more fully then, and crossed his arms as he said, "Miss Elizabeth, you now possess knowledge which could bring ruin to my sister—"
Her expression was at once indignant. "Mr. Darcy, I should think you know me well enough by now that you know I would never speak of such things! I have given Georgiana my word!"
"Will you give it also to me?" Darcy asked. "I beg your pardon, madam, that I must ask it of you, but so much damage has already been done to her impressionable mind. I could not bear it if gossip should ruin her chances of a respectable marriage."
Elizabeth's eyebrows lifted archly, and she fisted her hands on her hips. "As I said, sir, you ought know me well enough to know that I would never speak of a matter told to me in confidence, especially when my word has been given. That I have promised silence to your sister quite naturally means it is already promised to you by association and you have no need to ask that I do so again."
Darcy sighed and reached to pinch the bridge of his nose; he hadn't meant to anger her. "Please understand, Elizabeth," he said, "that I mean no offense to you, nor do I question your integrity."
"Were you not questioning my integrity, Mr. Darcy, you would not ask me to make a second promise of silence," she snapped in reply, and he looked up at the same moment she threw her hands up in the air in frustration, then spun about to walk away.
Her parting words stunned him to the core. At the door Elizabeth turned back, her gaze haughty, and said, "How Catherine can possibly believe that you admire me is beyond my comprehension—I can only imagine the poor girl's disappointment when I tell her that you most assuredly do not."
With that, she spun about and very quickly departed. Darcy stared after her, too shocked by her confession to have command of his feet. Catherine Morland was far more observant than he had given the girl credit for, if she had seen what he could hardly admit to himself.
But what was he to do now? Surely Elizabeth's reaction to the request he had made was evidence that he had been right to attempt concealment of his growing regard. She'd overreacted and stormed off rather than remaining and rationally discussing the matter.
Well, Darcy, you did insult her integrity, said his inner voice. Is one promise given really not enough for you?
Elizabeth had always been kind to Georgiana. Attentive. The exuberance of Catherine Morland and the wit of the second Miss Bennet had done precisely what he had hoped and drawn his sister out of the melancholy that had consumed her since Ramsgate. She was still reticent in the presence of Bingley's sisters—whom he suspected Georgiana did not much care for—and some of the neighborhood parents such as Mrs. Bennet (she had confessed one night that the lady had an "exuberant" personality), but she had been more lively since coming to Netherfield than she had been in months.
He was also forced to admit that though he had often observed Elizabeth talking and laughing with her sisters, with Georgiana and Catherine, and her friend Charlotte, he had never heard her name spoken as being among the local gossips. The two youngest Bennet girls and far too many of the Meryton mothers had taken that post upon themselves. Elizabeth was more of a quiet observer of those around her, and if she did speak of what she saw it was all done behind closed doors.
Darcy dragged a hand over his face and sighed. He would have to apologize and let her know that of course, he trusted her to keep Georgiana's secret. They were, if memory served, engaged to dine at Longbourn on Thursday evening, to celebrate James Morland's return and his engagement to Jane Bennet. Bingley had been reluctant to accept the invitation when it had been issued by Mrs. Bennet during their call the day before, but Elizabeth had leaned close and spoken to him words Darcy had not heard. Bingley had then looked to her and smiled, nodded, and then happily accepted the invitation on behalf of himself and his sisters.
When he had asked Charles in private later that day what Elizabeth had said that made him agree, he'd replied, "She told me I should do it for Jane—for Miss Bennet. Though she has chosen Morland, she apparently frets over having disappointed me. That is… it is really very generous of her. And Miss Elizabeth is right, after all—she also reminded me that I should show my support of the match publicly to keep the gossip that I am a spurned lover to a minimum. And really, Darcy, I am truly happy that Miss Bennet is happy in her choice. I've no ill feelings towards her whatsoever."
"And towards Morland?" Darcy had asked him.
Bingley had laughed before replying, "Well, the gentleman is a visitor in my house, I can hardly display open hostility toward him. And truth be told, I'm not even really angry. Just a little envious. Makes me wonder what it is he has that I haven't got."
Darcy had then proposed that the only real difference between his friend and James Morland was fortune, so it was all up to chance as to which of them Jane Bennet would choose. Bingley had agreed and declared his determination to put his affection for Miss Bennet in the past, where it belonged.
The dinner party was likely the first chance, Darcy knew, that he would have to speak to Elizabeth. Though because it was to be a party, he began to hope against hope that Wickham would not be invited—Mrs. Bennet took delight in entertaining officers at Longbourn, and if his nemesis had indeed come to join the local militia, his inclusion in the party was a possibility.
If only he could somehow make it known to Wickham that he would be there. Then the libertine would be sure to stay away. Or perhaps he should simply pack up his sister and return with her to London or Pemberley.
No! his inner voice cried immediately after the thought had occurred to him. Do not let that wretch run you out of the neighborhood with his mere presence.
Darcy snorted at his own thoughts. No, indeed. While he naturally desired to protect Georgiana's sensibilities more than he wished to avoid Wickham himself, and of course he wished that as well, it would send the wrong message to Wickham if he and his sister simply left. So no, they would stay. At least until he had consulted with Theodore on what was to be done.
With that in mind, he hurried over to a writing desk across the room and sat down to pen a letter. When he finished, he sent it off with his valet to have it posted express.
Georgiana stayed in her room much of the evening and came down only for dinner. She looked as withdrawn and subdued as she had when Wickham's duplicity had been revealed to her, and it did not go unnoticed by their host. Bingley gently inquired as to her health, with Georgiana replying that she was not feeling quite herself.
"I am sorry to hear it, but I do hope your ill-feeling does not last long," Bingley said, his expression full of sympathy.
"Miss Morland, her brother, and your aunt are due to return tomorrow evening or Thursday morning," Darcy observed. "And your sisters and Hurst due to return tomorrow. Surely the restoration of our full party will bring my sister cheer."
To his surprise, Georgiana's countenance brightened a little as he said this. "I do indeed look forward to having Catherine's company again," she agreed. "And her brother is very amiable, even if he…"
Her cheeks bloomed and she looked down at her plate as her voice trailed off. Bingley chuckled and said, "Do not distress yourself, my dear Miss Darcy—speak of Mr. Morland and his engagement to Miss Bennet as freely as you please, I am not bitter."
"It is very good of you to be so amiable," Georgiana observed. "I am sure it will ease Miss Bennet's worry of offending you."
"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed that her heart didn't choose me, but I can hardly call myself a gentleman if I didn't wish the pair of them every happiness in the world," Bingley replied. "She is an angel of a lady and he a very amiable gentleman, so I do not doubt I shall recover in time, or that we shall continue to be good friends."
That Bingley was so sanguine was a relief to Darcy; it bespoke of his spirit already being on the mend from his disappointment. Georgiana, though seeming to find it too difficult to look at him, nevertheless smiled and blushed at the attention from his friend.
As he observed their continuing intercourse, an intriguing prospect began to form in his mind; almost immediately, however, he dismissed it. After all, his sister might well form an infatuation for Bingley, but she was fair young yet to be married—she had not even had her debut in society. His friend, in turn, could hardly be expected to wait another year or more for Georgiana to mature further if he were truly of a mind to marry and settle down.
Pushing the thought of a match between Bingley and Georgiana from his mind entirely, Darcy turned his attention to the conversation so that he might join in.
-…-
The return of the wayward members of the Netherfield party was complete by midday on Thursday. Morland and his sister were in the house not even an hour before they left it again, joined by Georgiana, as the young man was eager to see his betrothed. Mrs. Allen, who was content to remain and rest herself after the long journey from Wiltshire, had no scruple as to informing other residents of the outcome of their visit to the Reverend and Mrs. Morland.
Naturally, given his disappointment earlier that year, they were reluctant to give their blessing to James. The elder Mr. Morland had wondered if his son was acting imprudently—"He thought him on the rebound, I daresay"—but the fervent approbation of both Catherine and Mrs. Allen herself, attesting to the forthrightness of Jane Bennet's character, at last convinced them. The Morlands were pleased for their son and proud of their daughter for choosing to use her recently acquired fortune to aid her brother, allowing him to marry sooner than he could otherwise.
"Catherine has no objection to sharing Fullerton Manor with James and Miss Bennet, and nor do I," Mrs. Allen told them with a fervent nod of her head. "The more the merrier, I say. The manor really is too large for only two people—I always told my dear Mr. Allen so. And since our Lord did not see fit to bless us with children, we were always having company over or hosting parties."
A lady such as she, Darcy mused, apparently could not bear the stillness of silence. For himself, he did not mind good company on occasion but in truth rather preferred times of peace and quiet that allowed for deep thought and reflection.
At almost the same moment the Morlands and Georgiana returned from their call to Longbourn, a horse and rider came up the lane. On catching sight of him through the library window, Darcy knew at once it was his cousin. The elder man was the second son of his uncle, the Earl of Disley, and had replied to his express with one of his own. There were some duties he could not simply discharge or hand over to another, but believed he could be at Netherfield to help him handle Wickham in only a few days.
He met his cousin as he was being let into the entry hall. "Theodore!" cried Georgiana as she turned away from handing her pelisse off to a maid. Walking over to him excitedly, she added, "What do you do here, cousin?"
"I am come to see you, of course! And your brother," he replied with a warm smile as he took her hands and bent to kiss her cheek.
Bingley was then coming down the stairs. "What do we have here, Darcy?" he asked.
"Charles, may I present my cousin, The Honorable Colonel Theodore Fitzwilliam," Darcy said. "Theo, this is my good friend Charles Bingley."
The two men bowed to each other, and then the Morlands—who were still in the hall as well—were introduced. "Forgive my intrusion on your party, Mr. Bingley," said Fitzwilliam genially. "My cousin has written me some once or twice regarding this fine house and the country hereabouts, and as I happened to have some business to tend to in the area, hoped to beg leave to join him here for a few days."
Bingley smiled. "Certainly, Colonel. As my aunt said only this afternoon, the more the merrier! I do love good company."
The group went then into the drawing room, and finding Mrs. Allen, Miss Bingley, and the Hursts there, another round of introductions were made. It was clear to Darcy that Caroline Bingley's interest was piqued on hearing his cousin's honorific. He watched her as she watched Fitzwilliam, who—on hearing that Morland had recently become engaged to a local young lady, and that they were to live with his sister at her new home—laughingly expressed his wish that he had a sister with a fortune who wouldn't mind sharing her house with him.
"My brother has a wife and children," he added, "so hardly has room at Rowarth Hall for a bachelor brother. Thus, I am forced by necessity to remain residing with parents who daily decry said bachelor status and harangue me constantly about finding a suitable wife to settle down with."
"I am sure that should be very easy for you, sir," said Miss Morland. "I cannot imagine the son of an earl has a want of money, and can marry where he chooses."
"Indeed," spoke up Caroline Bingley in a soft drawl. "Surely the younger son of an earl can know very little of that. Seriously, dear Colonel, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?"
Darcy watched with increasing disbelief as she leaned toward his cousin and batted her eyes at him. Good heavens, he thought. Whilst I am pleased it could mean she leaves me be, I would not wish to subject poor Theo to her attentions.
"Perhaps, madam, I cannot say that I have experienced many hardships of that nature," Fitzwilliam conceded. "But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like."
He then laughed again. "My dear lady," he said next, his attention returning to Miss Morland, "Recall that I am the second son. Though my father is extraordinarily wealthy for one in his position, the vast majority of his fortune will go to my brother, who is the heir to the earldom. There are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money, as our habits of expense make us too dependent on it."
Miss Morland's brow knitted in confusion. "So you will get nothing at all from your father due to order of birth? That hardly seems fair! My father has ten children and means do do what he can for each of us. Surely with only two yours can—"
"Cathy," her brother admonished her softly. "You know it is the way of things that the greatest portion of any man's wealth, if not all, goes to the eldest son. Consider my own situation: I get both a living and the little estate that goes with it, but Father can give nothing to our brothers except a small compensation and moral support in their chosen professions, unless by chance he should acquire another living somewhere."
"Do not despair for me, Miss Morland," said Fitzwilliam. "My father has promised me a sizeable inheritance, but sadly I shall not receive it until I marry. And even then, it would be best that the girl I wed come with a fortune attached, for the amount I shall receive will not sustain us in the lifestyle to which I am accustomed indefinitely."
Miss Morland scoffed and rolled her eyes, though she also smiled as she said, "Rich men and their rich habits. However is a poor girl to get by in this world when the only girl a man likes is a rich one?"
"Oh! But you are hardly poor, now are you, my dear?" offered Mrs. Hurst with a sly expression. "Being all but formally adopted by your good friend Mr. Allen and made heir to his fortune, you are anything but poor."
Catherine Morland blushed and looked away even as Mrs. Allen, in her particular naiveté, agreed enthusiastically with Bingley's sister that her young friend was "hardly poor."
"Indeed," said the lady, "our Catherine shall have her choice of suitors. There has been many a young man hereabouts who has paid her attention."
"Only because of the generosity you and dear Mr. Allen have shown me, ma'am," Miss Morland said. "Otherwise I should be nobody."
"It is good, then, that you have your brother here to look after you," observed Fitzwilliam. "I am sure he takes his role as your protector seriously, do you not?"
Morland nodded. "I do indeed, Colonel. I'll not allow my sister—any of my sisters—to be played for a fool."
Nor would I, Darcy mused, his gaze passing over Georgiana as she sat beside Catherine and listened to the conversation.
A few more minutes of being civil passed before he and Fitzwilliam could extricate themselves from the party. On the pretext of catching up on news of his cousin's family, Darcy went with him when the housekeeper—having been given an order by Bingley to prepare another guest room—announced that his room was ready. He waited until they were alone before broaching the subject of Wickham.
"What do you plan to do?" he asked.
"First, I mean to determine what the blackguard has been up to hereabouts," Fitzwilliam replied. "You know his habits as well as I—it won't take him long to run up debt or ruin some poor shop-keeper's daughter."
Darcy scoffed. "And he's already had two days in which to do it. I also dread to think what rumors he may be spreading about me, for it is almost certain he has heard of my being in the neighborhood. It's bad enough that the locals think me haughty and proud."
Fitzwilliam grinned. "But you are haughty and proud, at least among those with whom you are unfamiliar."
His cousin clapped him on the shoulder. "But do not fret, my good man. I shall make it my secondary mission to improve the perception of your character."
Darcy could not help but think of Elizabeth. Could her perception of him be altered? And did he have any real wish that it should be?