Mr. Bingley was informed during the course of his second dance of the night about the sordid history of his first partner, and given ample garbled details of Miss Bennet's misadventure with Mr. Wickham seven years the prior.
Of course at the time of Miss Bennet's disgrace, the girl Bingley danced with had yet been in the schoolroom — a place she remained for a further five years. This did not prevent the jealous Miss Peake from posing as an expert upon the topic of Elizabeth's disgraceful disgrace — an expert, that is, to the extent any maiden who had no real notion what was so disgraceful about time spent close with men could be.
Miss Peake claimed ignorance of all such topics.
Mr. Bingley cared not as he was not in the buying way for a new wife, whether she was Elizabeth Bennet or Petunia Peake. He shrugged, smiled, made silly witticisms, insisted that he liked Miss Bennet all the same and that she was perfectly respectable in his eyes. He also thought internally that he would for all that still push Darcy towards the young woman — it would do no good, of course — when she was already "unsuitable", what was an additional cause for unsuitability?
And Bingley thought no more upon the matter.
He never doubted that the essential detail of the story, viz that Miss Elizabeth Bennet had in fact acted in such a way as to entirely compromise her honor, dignity, and status as a "maiden" with that ensign whose name Miss Peake could not recall. Charles Bingley was not the sort of man to doubt that which he was told, and the whole matter seemed entirely plausible to him. After all, he had been induced into dalliances by pretty girls whilst sowing his youthful oats more than once, and that had been great fun to him.
Charles Bingley was also not the sort of man who hypocritically judged others for sins he himself participated in. Nor was he a man who excessively judged others for faults which were entirely foreign to himself.
Fitzwilliam Darcy, on the contrary, was both the sort of man who naturally doubted what he was told, and who had a strong inclination to excessively judge others for those faults which they had. He was even less likely though to be hypocritical than Charles Bingley, as he either entirely lacked those faults he condemned in others, or viewed the slight shadows they cast on his own character more harshly by far than a scurrilous scribbler could.
However he too upon learning of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's dalliance with Mr. Wickham entirely believed the story, without it even occurring to him to question its veracity.
After Mr. Bingley's second dance, that gentleman had approached Darcy, and suggested that his friend seek an introduction to Miss Bennet — though Miss Peake had been entirely too young for any sensible gentleman, his first partner had been a delight. Bingley promised he would make the introduction himself. "With great joy I will — a delightful creation, but she has too much… cleverness for a man such as myself. No, no, I think Miss Bennet shall be far more to your taste than my own, and she is by far the most interesting woman of those I have yet seen tonight."
"No. No — she is unsuitable for me," Darcy replied quickly, after overcoming that moment of unusual temptation he felt. "That is no dishonor to her. It is my grave duty to find a woman worthy of the Darcy name."
"Grave duty!" Bingley laughed. "Finding a wife? No wonder you have failed. Be friends! You need not contemplate marriage to every woman you dance with. Miss Bennet sounds quite bored with the general conversation of the neighborhood — she's spent the last seven years in London, almost since Izzie and I married — a very literary mind. She sounded me out if I could talk about books! Which you know I cannot, poor girl. You would be a much better companion for Miss Bennet. I insist, as a matter of charity, make an effort to be her friend."
"I cannot…" Darcy was not sure what he could not do. Except that this "cannot" said he absolutely must not seek an introduction to Miss Bennet. It was like something scared in his stomach. He looked towards Miss Bennet, for rather too long. The neat, pretty girl, with her hair in lovely curls noticed his gaze, again, and she flashed a brilliant smile in his direction.
Darcy blushed and looked away.
"Come on, man. Upon my honor, I swear, she would like an introduction — no worries about forming expectations in her — I told her you have a list."
Darcy felt ridiculously embarrassed, and somehow as though he were a schoolboy in Eton yard once more. He realized what frightened him too — there was something animal in his attraction to Miss Bennet. Something… different. He did not trust himself.
And he was terrified of showing any interest.
Which was ridiculous.
"No, no. No. Bingley, enjoy your dances, and your partners — I shall find no woman here suitable to be a companion, in any capacity. You waste your time with me."
Bingley exclaimed, for the second time this night, and with more feeling than the first time, that he would not be so fastidious as his friend for a kingdom — and Bingley was quite serious upon that point. Had he been offered a kingdom in exchange for behaving with the gentler sex as Mr. Darcy did, he would have, upon serious and sober consideration, refused it.
Some time later in the evening, Mr. Darcy found himself next to a black-edged portrait of the late king, who had died, after many years of madness, only this January, thus ending the long period of the regency. The painting was an ill executed copy, the nose too long, and many blotches of paint badly out of place. Across on the other wall, sunnily staring at his father, was the fat portrait of their new king.
Miss Bennet had noticed how he kept glancing her way, and he knew that he ought to, by now as a matter of politeness, seek the introduction. But something made it seem really too frightening for him to do so after so long when she had noticed him noticing her so many times.
So Darcy looked at a portrait of his former king. George III had been much the sort of man who ought to be king, decent, high minded, and above all respectable.
Until he went mad, of course.
Mr. Darcy was among the better part of the community of Britain which considered itself to rather disapprove of George IV. Fitzwilliam Darcy was, despite that disapproval, his Majesty's most loyal subject. Of course.
Darcy lost the battle with himself and looked around to where he thought Elizabeth Bennet was. But he could not see her there, and he almost panicked. Had she left the room for some reason, and he would never see her again?
As Darcy looked about he heard her name pronounced sharply: "Miss Bennet."
Two gentlemen who stood close enough to Darcy that he could hear them easily spoke. One of the gentlemen was deeply inebriated and thus spoke louder than anyone talking upon a private matter ought. The other was Mr. Lucas, the son of the genial knight who greeted everyone when they entered.
"I bet she had a child after, when they said she was in London."
"Reed!"
"Miss Bennet is still a fine piece of muslin—"
"Do not speak of her so. She is my sister's dearest friend."
"I bet Miss Bennet had a child after, but they abandoned that scoundrel's get on a roadside."
"Mrs. Bennet is a kind woman who would not allow anything like that. And Mr. Bennet—"
"He'd do it. Mr. Bennet, he's cold. He'd do it. He doesn't care about anyone, no morals. Reads too much. Such men are dangerous."
For a moment Darcy was distracted from his hands clenching into tight fists, though he did not know the facts of this story about Miss Bennet, nor did he have any right to defend her honor from this Mr. Reed. However, Mr. Reed's accidental echo of Shakespeare almost amused him.
"Nah, Mr. Bennet's a decent sort. Just because he won't suffer a fool, gladly or not, doesn't mean he would let his own grandchild freeze to death."
"They probably handed the child to an orphanage, to be raised to be a chimney sweep."
"There was no child — Miss Bennet was with the Gardiners the whole time. Even if she never came with them when they visited for Christmas, the Gardiners would always tell us how she kept herself busy, and—"
"You can't believe them," the other voice replied scornfully.
"Now whatever you say about Mr. Bennet," the other gentleman replied angrily, "I'll grant, he scorns us all, like as not, Mr. Gardiner is one of us. A Meryton gentleman gone to London and made good. A more respectable man I cannot find."
"Hmph. Lucas, say what you will, but respectable families don't have girls who let useless ensigns in the militia tup them. And if they do, they make the couple marry, so no one will talk about it."
"Charlotte always insisted Eliza was innocent — that she didn't let Wickham touch her."
That name. Darcy's stomach clenched tighter, and it felt as though he'd fallen through a crack in the ice and plunged into the freezing water of a pond in the worst of winter.
"Ha! The two were thick as flies on honey, till your sister stole that clergyman from under Miss Elizabeth's nose. Can't trust her upon the matter."
Mr. Lucas spread his hands. "I do not, not as such. But…" He shrugged. "I liked Eliza."
"Mark my words. Mr. George Wickham took his pleasure with that trollop, who we—"
"Be quieter!" Mr. Lucas's eyes drifted to Mr. Darcy's, and he had a rather shamed look. "To speak so loud — you may be drunk, but have some decorum."
Mr. Darcy stepped towards them with a terrible curiosity, anger, and horror to be learning such a truth about the woman he had developed a strange passing infatuation towards. "My apologies, Mr. Lucas, for overhearing your conversation, might I make an enquiry."
Mr. Lucas looked decidedly unhappy at the prospect of questions about Miss Bennet's character. But as proper he agreed, and introduced Mr. Darcy and Mr. Reed. Darcy then asked, "George Wickham — I know a man of that name. What were his particulars? — What county did he hail from?"
"Eh, I don't recall — too damned handsome. Able to charm any girl out of her senses. Ha! That was a pretty faced man." Mr. Reed laughed crudely. "Look what a mess he made of the Bennets — all the girls, even Miss Jane, had been in love with him."
Both Mr. Lucas and Mr. Darcy looked with disgust and disdain at Mr. Reed.
Mr. Darcy managed, without even trying, to look a great deal more disgusted and disdainful, as though he were looking upon a writhing low worm slithering through the muddy ground. Mr. Lucas, who tried to look disdainful, was hampered by the good nature and soft looks he'd inherited from his father, Sir William, and he did not look a tenth so intimidating as Mr. Darcy.
"What county was he from? Did he mention any connections, did—" Darcy stopped. He now recalled that he had heard something about Wickham entering the militia and then leaving it over a matter with a woman.
"Derbyshire," Mr. Lucas said, "like yourself — you are that Mr. Darcy! He abused your name quite terribly. Makes me think higher of you to now make the connection — I dare say he was your Mr. Wickham."
"What did he do to Miss Bennet?" Darcy also rather wished to know how his name had been defamed by Mr. Wickham, but it was beneath a man of his sort to inquire about low and false rumors.
"Ha!" Reed said. "Everything. Told me himself… I nearly punched him for it."
"You ought have," Mr. Lucas said with a disgusted sneer. "You were thick with him. Even after he did that to our Eliza."
"What happened? What further evil did that man commit?"
Mr. Lucas shrugged. "A scandalous story — not one to speak on the details. But the two were alone, in a hunting lodge for two days during a rare snowstorm — no one could go about, as it was impossible to see. And they had walked about a great deal before. Very friendly the two were — they did not speak after ever. But I believe Mr. Bennet could not find so much money as would satisfy Wickham. Longbourn is entailed you understand. And they have five girls. Always spends his income, does Mr. Bennet."
"Miss Bennet deserved such," Mr. Reed growled. "She discouraged many eligible men. No surprise she then did a dallying day with an unsuitable man. I'd wager she—" Mr. Reed coughed, seeming to gain some sort of prudence for a moment. "She yet is proud and haughty, even though she is both ruined and has no prospects. When a man is friendly to such a girl, she ought to be friendly back. She owes it to him, for his kindness."
"For two days." Darcy frowned. He hated to know that Miss Bennet was not a chaste woman.
"In a blizzard—" Mr. Lucas exclaimed, as thought to defend Miss Bennet's honor. Then he added with a shrug. "Though how they were in the hunting lodge in the first place… they had been walking about alone."
"Ha, ha, ha." Mr. Reed laughed. "She ought to have been humble, since we allow her to enter our society again — but no. They did do everything. Wickham was such a fortunate man, he—"
"Mr. Wickham is a vile scoundrel, and the darkest stain on my name is that there is any connection betwixt the two of us," Darcy exclaimed.
"Ha, I imagine you have six mistresses, each a diamond of the first water. You rich are all hypocrites to insult those who have the charm, courage and cleverness to take what you can buy."
"Mr. Reed, were you not drunk, and were you not far beneath me, I would challenge you to a duel. I have no mistresses. I would never sin in such a way before God and man. Get away from me, and I shall expect an apology from you in the morning when you are sober."
Mr. Lucas paled and dragged his unsteady friend away from Mr. Darcy.
Where was Elizabeth Bennet?
And what did he think of her now that he knew how thoroughly sinful and… unsuitable she was.
Poor girl!
He felt sorry for her.
It would be a hypocrisy of the worst sort to despise her for succumbing to Wickham's vile wiles, when his own sister had done the same. Only good, blind fortune kept Georgiana's honor and virtue intact so she was able to marry with good conscience later.
As Darcy understood the matter, Mrs. Younge had been jealous of Wickham's affections, which had been principally enjoyed by the deceitful woman he had hired to guard his sister's person and morals. Further she was worried she would be double crossed somehow by her lover if she allowed Wickham intimate access to Georgiana.
Only those sordid motives on the part of a sordid woman had prevented Georgiana's ruin from being total.
Where had Miss Bennet gone?
She was not in the room at all.
The last time he had glanced towards Miss Bennet, the gentleman who she'd been in conversation with had been that disgusting Mr. Reed.
Something in Darcy's stomach lurched anxiously. Was she well? Had she been frightened by him? There was some animus between them, he could tell that from Mr. Reed's conversation.
This is none of your business.
But Darcy, for reasons he could not explain to himself, suddenly did not care that it was none of his business.
He walked around the edge of the room, thinking. He remembered clearly where she had been seated when she talked to Mr. Reed, and close by that nook was one of the doors to the balconies, left open to keep the room cool.
To Darcy's relief when he walked by that door he saw Miss Bennet standing safely on the balcony, looking forlornly out towards the stars. Her vibrant countenance was barely discernible in the thin darkness. The sun had long since set. He looked at Miss Bennet for an inappropriately long moment. He wanted to say something to her, but they were not even introduced yet, and he could tell she wished some sort of solitude. She also had every appearance of distress, like when Georgiana would flee from balls out of shyness, and require his presence to comfort her, during her first season.
Miss Bennet tensely gripped the iron railing.
Darcy sighed, and he was about to walk away, to leave her to her privacy.
But Miss Bennet, drawn by the noise he made, turned to look at him through the door, and their eyes caught. She was pale and her eyes were too wide and too intent. There was a fringe of sweat around her hair. And instead of a smile, like she'd shown other times when she caught him glancing towards her, her lips trembled.
Darcy walked up to Miss Bennet. "I… I apologize for introducing myself, Miss Bennet. But… are you well?"
He could see that she was not.
AN: For those who were asking after chapter 3 got posted, this is currently a PIP and will be fully posted at a rate of about two chapters a week. It is of course available at the major e-book distributers if you want to read it immediately.
I hope you all enjoy reading it asmuch as I enjoyed writing this one