Chapter 5
Elizabeth held her arms wrapped around herself as sobs shook her. How, she wondered, had she allowed herself to become so invested in what Mr. Darcy thought of her? Yes his comment had stung, but why had she allowed it to influence her actions? She knew better then to listen to Wickham as she had. Why had she? Because she realized with clarity, she had wanted Darcy to say something different when his friend suggested he dance with her. She had wanted him to feel that same instant connection with her that she had felt when she saw him. She truly was a foolish, silly girl. Had she really considered the notion of love at first sight when she saw him? Like some silly novel? And when he did not act as the way she had always secretly dreamed her hero would upon seeing her, she had decided that he was to be her nemesis. She had been eager to hear ill of him. She had blindly listened to Wickham because if Darcy was as bad as Wickham portrayed him, then it truly did not matter what he thought of her and she would be vindicated in disliking him. And it had felt oh so very necessary for her to dislike him after his hurtful words.
"Oh Lizzy," Jane's familiar voice said from behind her, just as Elizabeth felt her sister's gentle touch on her shoulder.
"I am such a fool, Janie," Elizabeth sobbed, throwing herself into her elder sister's waiting embrace.
"Sshhhh, love," Jane said stroking her sister's hair as they sat under the tree Elizabeth had always favored. "You have always been so self assured that sometimes I am afraid we all forget that you are not yet one and twenty. You so often act older than your nine and ten years. You shall turn twenty after this winter, but even twenty is to young for you to bear the weight of the world and that is not for almost half a year."
"I have three younger sister's out in society. I am expected to do better. To be better. To not be a fool," Elizabeth said hiccuping.
"Yes little sister, you like to give your age as not yet one and twenty whenever anyone asks and claim with three younger sisters full grown you could not possibly be expected to own what it is. You cannot expect to fool your Jane though, my Lizzy. I know very well you do not like to give your age, not because of how advanced it is, but because of how tender your years are."
"Oh, Jane," Elizabeth sobbed.
"Imagine my surprise when Mr. Darcy sought me out in town and requested that I make haste to your side, to offer you whatever comfort I could. Now please tell me what this is about," Jane said gently.
"Col. Fitzwilliam says Mr. Wickham is a scoundrel and because Mr. Darcy insulted me I was eager to believe his side of the story, despite the obvious holes. I am a wretched, blind, vain fool. A man nearing his third decade has only now sought a career in the military, despite his university education? Even you questioned his story of Mr. Darcy's misdeeds."
"I may seek to see the good in the world, but at two and twenty I have learned to recognize that there are two sides to every story. Both of them might yet be vindicated. There could have been a misunderstanding. Without both sides of the story we will never know. If you truly wish to know I supect Mr. Darcy would tell you."
"I do not think I can ever bear to face him again. Why could he not have gone to London and your Mr. Bingley stayed behind?"
"He is not my Mr. Bingley. He never was," Jane said softly.
"Oh, Jane!" Elizabeth exclaimed sitting up suddenly. "I was right about Mr. Bingley and Miss Darcy. Mr. Darcy confirmed it. His sister is not even out and he would never wish Mr. Bingley to wed his sister if his heart lay elsewhere!"
"That does not mean his heart lays with me," Jane said sadly.
"Oh, oh boulderdash!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I have humiliated myself already, what is a little bit more humiliation. Come, Jane," she said rising and tugging her sister up with her and starting with a determined stride in the direction of Netherfield.
"Where are we going, Lizzy?" Jane asked in alarm.
"To get some answers," Elizabeth said grimly.
"Elizabeth Rose Bennet, you cannot mean to say you plan to call on two gentlemen and ask them improper questions," Jane said scandalized.
"Our youngest sister ran through a ball room with a sword, our mother loudly declared for all to hear how when you were Mistress of Netherfield you would throw your sisters into the paths of other rich men, Mary not only played the piano poorly last night, she sang, Jane. And father announced that she had delighted the company long enough and to let other young ladues have a chance to exhibit when I entreated him to put a stop to it to spare our family further embarrassment. He made sport of her and made it worse. It was awful. And I, oh I Jane, I berated Mr. Darcy to his face while we danced and the next morning I was grossly uncivil to him. And then today I ran from him and Col. Fitzwilliam in tears. Do you honestly think we can sink any lower in Mr. Darcy's estimation?"
"Mr. Darcy's opinion? Lizzy it isn't Mr. Darcy who will spread gossip about us marching into Netherfield to speak to two bachelors," Jane said attempting to pull her sister to a halt.
Elizabeth abrubtly drew to a stop, surprising Jane and causing her an inelegant stumble. Elizabeth shaded her eyes and squinted into the distance at two horsemen that sat atop their horse appearing to be watching the sisters. "We won't have to go all the way to Netherfield it looks like," she said triumphantly.
…
"I cannot believe, I, one of his majesty's finest, the son of an Earl, a decorated hero, a veteran of the Peninsula have been reduced to spying on a young lady while she cries," Col. Fitzwilliam said with a shake of his head. "Her sister has arrived, what are we still doing here? Better yet if Miss Bennet looks up and sees us, what will she think of our reckless dash from town where you ordered her to find her sister along the path to Oakham Mount and comfort her? Especially when we are supposed to be calling on Forester? Remember him? Wickham's commanding officer?"
"Just because Wickham can be accounted for in Meryton right now, does not mean that there are not other dangers out here that could beset themselves on Elizabeth before she was even aware of their presence," Darcy said grimly.
"As the fact that we have spent the last minutes clandestinely watching a madain cry while awaiting her sister to arrive to comfort her demonstrates. And given how you made straight for this location, may I assume this isn't your first foray into spying on Miss Elizabeth?"
"The view is very pleasant from here," Darcy said defensively.
"The view is it? I will admit it is an appealing spot, but most I suspect are looking the other way at that view, not at Miss Elizabeth under a tree," Col. Fitzwilliam said with a chuckle. Then seeing Elizabeth stand up and tug her sister up with her, then head not towards Longbourn, but Netherfield. "What the?" Col. Fitzwilliam trailed off as Elizabeth, hand shading her eyes, spotted them. "I do believe we have been seen, Darcy." When his cousin said nothing, Col. Fitzwilliam glanced over at him and was taken back briefly by the raw longing etched onto his cousin's countance as he stared across the distance at Elizabeth.
When Elizabeth began walking toward them a smile spread across Darcy's face that he quickly suppressed. He quickly dismounted and began striding toward the two ladies. Col. Fitzwilliam with a shake of his head, followed suit.
"Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet," Darcy said stiffly in greeting to the two. And then his gaze boring into Elizabeth he said, "Are you well?"
"Does Mr. Bingley care for Jane?" Elizabeth demanded, forgoing any sort of greeting.
"Lizzy!" Jane hissed.
"You did not perceive something that wasn't there Janie. Miss Bingley hopes to keep her brother from returning to you. I know I am right about this," Elizabeth said softly. To Darcy she said, her voice challenging, "Can you tell us when Mr. Bingley plans to return to the area?"
Darcy barley spared a glance for Jane, his whole being focused on Elizabeth. He realized this could possibly be the turning point in his pursuit of her. The wrong answer would set her further against him, but he abhorred deception. As he considered his answer carefully, he realized that the answer stood right in front of him, delicate face turned up towards him, fine eyes locked on him. He had no plans to leave Hertfordshire until her heart was his. If he remained in the area, it was unlikely Miss Bingley would manage to convince her brother to abandon Netherfield. He could send an express to Bingley advising him to quit the area due to the expectations he had raised, but his cousin was right, was that fair to Elizabeth's sister?
"I expect him to rejoin me as soon as his business is concluded," Darcy said making a decision.
"Does he care for my sister?" Elizabeth asked her eyes steady on him, demanding the truth.
"He does, I believe," Darcy said gravely and was relieved to see the tension leave Elizabeth's stance and the beaming smile she directed to her sister, who returned it with a gentle smile of her own that bespoke her hapiness.
"I told you Jane," Elizabeth said laughingly. "Mr. Bingley does care for you. Miss Bingley's missive was nothing but spiteful. I beg you to put it out of your head and heart."
"She is my friend, Lizzy. I dare say she did not set out to deliberately mislead me," Jane began to say but Elizabeth interrupted her.
"Are you not the one who has urged me to remember there are two sides to every story? Don't only believe Miss Bingley's side. I suspect her missive of misery was largely fabrication weaved out of her own ideals and aspirations." Turning to Darcy, Elizabeth gave a playful curtsy and with a beaming smile said, "Thank you for your information, sir."
Darcy quickly reached to capture her hand with his own, and holding his prize, her slim digits ensconced in his grasp, said softly with a small answering smile, "It was my pleasure. Now would you allow me the oppurinity to tell you of Mr. Wickham?" He anxiously awaited her answer. For him it was not enough that she knew better than to put her trust in Wickham thanks to his cousin. He wanted to completely erase any lingering effects of Wickham's lies. He wanted to change her opinion of him. To have her understand his side of the story.
"It is hardly any of my business but I must admitted to being wildly curious," Elizabeth said archly.
"Allow me to relieve your curiosity," Darcy said offering her his arm.
As Darcy led Elizabeth away from them, Jane turned to Col. Fitzwilliam and said softly, "Lizzy is a bit impetuous at times."
"It is a pleasure to meet you Mis Bennet. I apologize for the lack if formal introduction. My cousin as you witnessed, was not at his best in Meryton. Col. Fitzwilliam at your service. Your sister is young. Impetuous is expected, though I doubt she will be much less so in another decade or two. If my memory serves correctly she is only 19." Seeing Jane's surprise, he added with a chuckle, "Last spring when I met your sister, your aunt mentioned that Lizzy had come to visit for a few weeks so that they could take her to the theatre to celebrate her nineteenth birthday the month prior. Your aunt was in parts cautioning me and seeking to determine why, what appeared to be a confirmed bachelor a decade her niece's senior, appeared to be whittling away his days wishing to linger at your sister's side."
"And do you still wish to linger at her side?" Jane asked softly.
"I may wish to linger at her side, but my yonder couisn wishes to burrow so deeply into her heart and plant himself there that it would be impossible to say where his heart ends and her's begins."
"He cares for her?" Jane asked tentativly, blushing. She was mortified to be asking a stranger such questions but after seeing her sister in tears, she felt compelled to protect her, even if the expense was a bit of embarrassment. Jane was grateful the Colonel was not only forthcoming, but did not seem offended by the invasive questioning.
"I care for your sister Miss Bennet, Darcy loves your sister. The difference is important to note. I can walk away disappointed and survive, he cannot. To lose her would devestate him. I hope for his sake he can turn her opinion around of him," Col. Fitzwilliam said seriously.
"I am not sure Lizzy even knows what her true opinion of him is," Jane said musingly. "Her reactions to him are not what one would anticipate. She found Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst to be arrogant and though I told her such behavior was not nice and if she got to know them she would see they were perfectly amiable-"
"I must stop you there, Miss Bennet. Those two harpies are neither amiable or trustworthy," Col. Fitzwilliam said. "I urge to listen to your sister's opinion in this. They are social climbers of the worst sort. They would see their brother tied to any woman that can raise their status in the ton, whether she was deserving or not, or he cared for her or not. They are no friend to their brother's suit of you. They have neither his best interest or yours in mind."
"I shall bear that in mind," Jane said. "Lizzy mocked and laughed at the sisters. She claimed that both were insulting in words and actions, disapproving of Meryton society and looking down their elevated noses at everyone. She merely laughed at it though. Mr. Darcy on the other hand, she could not let his insult go, nor could she let his supposed disapproval go. She laughed at the arrogance of the sisters but not at Mr. Darcy's. His attitude to the neighborhood she was constantly vexed by. "
"She expected better of him."
"Yes," said Jane in surprise. "I believe that is it exactly."
…
Elizabeth leaned against her favorite tree. She had unconsciously walked with Mr. Darcy toward it as he told his story. Now she frowned in consideration, thinking of what she had heard so far, while he silently watched her. Darcy was fighting his own inclinations at the picture she presented. Despite the unfortunate story he was in the midst of recounting to Elizabeth, he could easily envision bracing an arm on each side of her against the tree, and leaning down to kiss every inch of her upturned face. He would start at one of her earlobes and make his way along her jawline to the other, from there he would explore her eyelids and cheekbones with his lips, until the only space he had not yet carressed with them was her lips. Those he would slowly kiss, applying gentle pressure until she opened up and allowed him to taste her inner sweetness.
"It is infamous, " Elizabeth exclaimed suddenly. "My father's estate brings in 1,800 pounds a year, less then it could, but enough to support a family of seven in comfort if not luxury. That allows almost 300 pounds per person per year. The actuality of it though is that some of those 1,800 pounds are reinvested into the estate. But even a split of say 1,200 per annum is still 200 pounds per person if it were split evenly for the sake of easy math. 4,000 pounds squandered over three years is greater than the 1,200 my family may split. Approximately 1,300 for one man in a year is simply astounding. Mr. Bingley's 5,000 a year supports him, Miss Bingley and I suspect Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. If that was equally split between them that would be 1,250 each. The spendable income for my family for one year per person," Elizabeth said with a shake of her head. "It is more likely that Mr. Bingley merely supplements his realtives incomes rather than pay for them out right fully, but the case may still stand. Mr. Bingley inherited a fortune, he can be expected to live in a style forgien to my family. But Mr. Wickham! He was the son of a steward, he should be more accustomed to living within a much smaller income. Even if he did not choose to use the money to study the law, he could have lived off a modest amount per year for over a decade, longer if he invested wisely to increase the original sum. It is in famous!" Elizabeth exclaimed in indignation.
"You did those sums in your head?" Darcy asked in admiration.
"Of course," Elizabeth responded carelessly. "What you have told me is not all though. There is more, your very reaction to him that day in the street declares it," Elizabeth said with a frown. "Living beyond his means and his lack of scruples might inspire distaste or disdain, but there was hatered. You absolutely hate him. Truly hate him. There are two types of hate, a true hatered that could never be turned around and the type that only seems like hate until it is easily overturned. You said that he swore he would make you regret refusing him the living when he tried to claim it?"
"He did and your right, there is more," Darcy said swallowing nervously. He knew exactly what she meant. His cousin had called love and hate two sides of the same coin, that could be confused with one another, but for Wickham, he felt absolute true abiding hatered. The type of hatred that was born out of a true understanding of Wickham's character and deeds. For the sake of his future he desperately hoped Elizabeth's hatred of him was the other kind. Her words implied thay was the case. He steadied himself mentally and focused on telling her the rest of Wickham's history with him. How he had attempted to elope with Georgiana, his baby sister, for her thirty thousand pounds and revenge on him.
Elizabeth gasped as he revealed Wickham's worst offense. When she gently placed her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze in comfort, he knew that Elizabeth did not truly hate him, or she never would have sought to give him comfort. When her first words when he finished were an inquiry of his sister's well being he was tempted to crush her to him and never let go. As her hand still rested comfortably on his arm he watched her features blossom over with confusion. Suddenly she said, "He is a fortune hunter of the worst kind. His story is clearly designed to draw out sympathy for nefarious purposes. But why would he feel the need to tell it to me? He had already been made welcome in the community with his easy manners. What could he possibly have hoped to gain? It is well known that the Bennet sisters are no heiresses. We may be gentleman's daughters, but we, I, have nothing to offer him, no fortune to pursue."
Darcy knew exactly what Elizabeth had to offer Wickham, revenge, but even using her wits as Col. Fitzwilliam had encouraged her to do, she was still missing a key piece of the puzzle. He remembered perfectly that meeting with Wickham in the street. Darcy had not seen him right away. He had been focused soley on Elizabeth, admiring her. He had nudged his horse ahead of Bingley's, his gaze on her. Wickham knew him well enough to know he looked at Elizabeth, not with detached admiration for a pretty girl like one would a painting, but rather with reverence, the type reserved for a mere mortal in the presence of his own personal goddess. Wickham, with his uncanny knack for knowing just how to hurt Darcy, would have zeroed in on that. How he must have laughed when he realized he did not need to destroy Elizabeth's regard for him, but that he could increase her dislike of him easily.
"Revenge," Darcy said softly.
"Revenge?" Elizabeth asked her face clouded over with utterly adorable confusion.
"Revenge," Darcy said again. "He saw you as a chance for revenge on me."
"But how? Why?" Elizabeth asked confused.
"He knew thay first day in the street that I loved you," Darcy said softly and watched as Elizabeth's beautiful eyes went wide and she gaped at him in complete disbelief.
