Chapter 3

Once home, Elizabeth placed her sisters safely in the drawing room with Mrs. Bennet to tell her all the gossip from the village. Then she swiftly went to her father's study and eagerly opened the letter from Mrs. Gardiner, which was dated a week prior.

My dear niece,

We have arrived safely at Lambton, as you may be aware— I am not certain if your father has been corresponding with your mother or not.

'Or not,' Elizabeth thought to herself.

"It took us a little longer to journey here than anticipated due to a brief spell of rain that forced us to take shelter at a roadside inn. While the rain itself ended quickly, it was of strong enough force to wipe out a bridge that had not been maintained properly, forcing us to backtrack and continue our journey on another route.

Your father, as always, provided us with much amusement and wit throughout our travels. His dry humor and keen observations never fail to entertain, and I daresay he made the miles pass swiftly with his lively conversation.

It was during our impromptu stay at The White Hat that we had the pleasure of meeting an eccentric gentleman who regaled us with tales of Pemberley once he heard of our destination. Apparently, the current master of the estate is a wolf-man! Or a blood-drinking night-walker— the gentleman was a bit vague.

All he could say for certain was that a few years ago, the younger Mr. Darcy— who was but a child when I lived in Lambton— had been attacked by a creature of mystical qualities. Now Mr. Darcy is a beast or ogre of some sort, roaming the halls of Pemberley at night, roaring and howling so loudly, it can be heard from the lawn.

I cannot wait to tell the children! Well, perhaps only the older two. I hope that we will be able to take a tour of Pemberley from the housekeeper; my parents took me on one when I was a child, and I quite enjoyed seeing the finery. Imagine what they will say when I tell them I entered a house being inhabited by a monster!

I must confess, my dear Elizabeth, that I find myself missing the rest of my family more than I had anticipated. Though our time here in Lambton promises to be delightful, it cannot compare to the joys of being in with my children. I had thought the respite from motherhood would be relaxing, and it was for the first few days, but now I am simply anxious to be with them again. I just hope they are not causing Jane too much trouble.

This line was punctuated by a crash and shout from the room above Elizabeth's— which just so happened to be the nursery. She giggled at the timing and thought, Poor Jane. I think I prefer the responsibilities Papa left me with than those of my sister.

Another crash caused her to wince before she resumed reading.

Your father has already begun to look at the books he wishes to purchase, as well as the gifts your mother and sisters have requested. Perhaps he will be able to gather rose clippings for you when we tour the estate.

Please give my regards to your mother and sisters, and assure them that we are thinking of them fondly. I eagerly anticipate the day when we shall all be reunited once more.

With much love and affection,

Madeline Gardiner

Elizabeth scanned through the letter a second time and began to laugh. How can anyone truly believe that nonsense about Pemberley's master?

She set the letter to the side, determining to reply to it later that day. As the Gardiners and Mr. Bennet planned to remain in Lambton for two more weeks until the end of the auction, there would be just enough time for her letter to arrive before they left.

Idly wondering about how their tour of Pemberley would go—or if it would even be allowed—she returned her attention to the ledger in front of her. The columns of numbers quickly drove all though of Derbyshire out of her head.

Some time later, Elizabeth's work was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Apologies, Miss Lizzy," Hill said, dropping a curtsy, "but Mrs. Bennet has asked that you come to the drawing room to be introduced to some of the new officers from the militia."

Sighing, Elizabeth closed the ledger and rose from her chair. Standing, she picked up Le Morte d'Arthur in case she was able to sit in the corner and be ignored. She followed Hill down the hallway and entered the parlor, where Lydia, Kitty, and Mrs. Bennet sat in animated conversation with a slew of redcoats.

"Ah, Lizzy! Come, come sit here," Mrs. Bennet said loudly, motioning to an empty chair between her mother and the fireplace.

"Lizzy has been hard at work on estate matters," the matron informed the room as Elizabeth dutiful took her seat. "I don't know why her father left her in charge of things, but there you have it. I would much prefer her to be engaged in more ladylike pursuits, but she has always been permitted to run on wildly by Mr. Bennet."

Elizabeth looked desperately around the room for Mary, but the middle Bennet child was nowhere to be seen. Out of the crowed surrounding Lydia, however, came an extremely handsome young man, who bowed over Elizabeth's hand.

"I am very pleased to meet such an industrious young woman," he said, a dimple appearing in his cheek as he smiled at her. "I imagine, Mrs. Bennet, that her father left her in charge because she was the most appropriate person to care for an estate. It is quite the compliment to her intelligence."

Flushing, Elizabeth returned her still-grasped hand to her lap, fighting to not allow how much the compliment pleased her from showing on her face. "I shan't say you are correct," she said, "for that would make me quite vain indeed."

"Then I will have to appeal to others who know you in order to hear of your manifold charms."

"Perhaps you should also request an introduction," she retorted, but her arch smile told him she was not entirely serious in her admonishment.

"My most sincere apologies, milady," he replied with a flourishing bow. "I so was overcome by the beauty before me that I neglected my manners. Allow me to rectify it at once."

Before she could say anything, he disappeared into the crowd, then returned again with Lydia, who glared furiously at her sister.

"This is my sister, Lizzy," the girl spat. "Lizzy, Lieutenant Wickham is the newest member of the militia to arrive."

She gave the two a baleful glare, then flounced back to her seat next to Kitty and once again disappeared into a sea of six or seven soldiers.

"There, propriety has now been observed," he said with a charming grin, taking the seat across the fireplace and moving it closer to her.

"I am sorry for my sister's behavior," she said with a sigh. "I'm afraid she is in a trying age."

"Seventeen can be difficult," he replied.

"Lydia is fifteen," she admitted, blushing slightly when he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Well, that makes her even more difficult, I'm sure. It is a rather trying age, and I was never a young lady passing through it."

She laughed gaily. "I should sincerely hope not! I would be a bit concerned if it were so." Changing the subject, she said, "So, Mr. Wickham, what brings you to the Hertfordshire militia?"

His face clouded over. "Well, I found it necessary to obtain employment suddenly when I was cast out from my childhood home."

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Elizabeth said, pressing a hand to her mouth. "I did not mean to bring up such a painful topic."

He gave her a woeful smile. "It is a normal question for a new acquaintance; there is no way you could have known that my closest friend—almost like a brother to me, for we were raised as such—would turn me out. A generous lady such as yourself could scarcely imagine doing something to a family member."

Elizabeth looked over at Kitty, Lydia, and Mrs. Bennet. "No, I daresay that would never cross my mind."

"That will make you an admirable mistress of an estate," he said, "not unlike my friend's parents, who were the most generous man and woman to ever live. I fear, however, that I shall never see Pemberley again."

"Pemberley!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

He hesitated, then asked, "Are you familiar with it?"

"No, not at all. That is, not personally. As it happens, my father is traveling with my aunt and uncle right now. They are in Lambton for an auction—my father is in search of a rare book—and my aunt told me all about Pemberley. She is from there, you see."

"Ah. Does she know the Darcy family personally?" he asked, looking at her intently.

"I do not believe so. She hasn't lived there in many years, and she mentioned hoping to request a tour from the housekeeper."

"Mrs. Reynolds," he said, sighing softly "I believe she would be delighted to show Pemberley off to anyone. She is quite proud of the Darcy family That pride, however, was the cause of her dislike of me in my youth, as I was only the steward's son being raised alongside the heir. She regularly urged old Mr. Darcy to refuse my entrance to the home, even though I had been visiting the nursery daily since my infancy."

"How cruel!" Elizabeth cried feelingly.

"Fortunately, he did not pay any mind to her complaints about me. He often told me I was as good as a son to him and welcome there at any time."

"So you knew the current master, then? Have you seen him since his transformation?"

Wickham's face paled slightly. "His…transformation?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, apparently he turns into a beast of some kind each evening! My aunt and uncle made the acquaintance of someone along their journey who told the most peculiar stories of the current master of Pemberley. Apparently he was attacked a few years ago by a blood-sucker or a wolf-man, and now he prowls the halls at night, howling in the darkness."

He broken into a grin and said, "Small villagers will believe almost anything! Now, I don't for one moment think that the rumors about Darcy are true, other than the fact that he is a beast."

"Really?" Elizabeth leaned forward, eager to hear more, but the movement caused the book on her lap to fall to the floor.

"Allow me," he said gallantly, bending over and picking it up. He looked at the title and thumbed through the pages before handing it back to her, saying, "How can you read this? There are no pictures!"

She laughed, "The pictures are in my mind."

"I don't know how I feel about this," he said in a serious tone. "It's quite dangerous for a young lady to read. Soon she starts getting ideas… and thinking…"

She jaw gaped open in an unladylike fashion. "How dare—"

The twitch of his lips gave him away, and she burst into laughter. "I thought you were in earnest!" she cried, smacking him softly with the tome.

"Peace, peace!" he cried, putting both hands in the air. "I surrender to your incomparable wit!"

Elizabeth felt a warm glow spread throughout her. With her father's absence and his tasks on her shoulders, she had spent the last several weeks with hardly a kind word from anyone. It felt nice to be appreciated for the first time in quite a while.

Wickham's face slowly faded from humor to serious and he said, "It is probably too late to do anything, but I would advise you to tell your relatives to stay as far away from Pemberley as possible."

"Why? Because the master is a beast?" she teased.

"Yes, Darcy is a beast."

When she raised a skeptical eyebrow, he said, "Oh, not in the literal sense of the word, but figuratively, yes. His temper is too little yielding. He cannot forget the follies and vices of others, nor their offenses against himself, even if no offense is intended or the mistakes were made in the innocence of youth. His temper is resentful, and his good opinion once lost is lost forever."

"Goodness! Is he a man without fault, then, to treat others so harshly?"

Wickham sat back in his chair. "His pride will not allow him to admit any flaws. He even told me once that where there is real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation."

"And he determines his superiority, I presume?" she asked with a smirk.

"Exactly."

"He must be quite difficult to be around, then. I wonder at your having been friends, since you are clearly of a different character."

Wickham sighed. "He was quite different as a child. His parents taught him good principles, but then he was left to follow them in pride and conceit once his mother died. He grew worse after his father—my godfather—passed away. He even went so far as to deny me my inheritance that I was left in the will."

"No!" she gasped.

He nodded solemnly. "Old Mr. Darcy told me that I would receive a valuable living near the estate, but when it fell vacant after his death, his son gifted it to someone else."

"How strange!" cried Elizabeth. "How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you. If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest,—for dishonesty I must call it."

"It is wonderful," replied Wickham; "for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride has often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But no person is ever consistent; and in his behavior to me there were stronger impulses even than pride."

"What of others who were left bequests in the will?"

"Oh, they all received their due. His pride has often led him to be liberal and generous; to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Even his sister will receive a thirty thousand pound dowry."

Her eyes widened. "So much?"

"Yes, he was left as her guardian upon their father's death. His pride and the small amount of brotherly affection he holds for her has made him a careful guardian of his sister."

"What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?"

His face turned sorrowful. "As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. I understand she was quite accomplished before…"

"Before what?" she asked eagerly, leaning forward towards his chair.

"Well, it's just that a few years ago, when I went to Pemberley to receive my inheritance— having heard that the living was vacant and the former parson deceased— she attempted to see her brother after I left the study where we'd fought. I can only assume she tried to plead my case, but I could hear her screaming, in terror or pain, I know not what. I was told later that she had to be carried away from the room."

Elizabeth gasped, her hand going to her mouth. "He harmed her?" she whispered.

"Or worse… All I know is that since then, she hasn't been seen at Pemberley anymore."

"He killed his sister?" she whispered.

"I only have my suspicions, but with his beastly temper…" His voice trailed off.

"And nothing was done about it?"

"He is the magistrate, as well as being the richest man in the county; he owns practically half of Derbyshire, and his income is a clear ten thousand pounds per year."

She gasped again. "He earns that much after taxes? I can't even begin to fathom such wealth!"

"You can see, then, how he came to be what he is." He shook his head sadly. "I only wish I could have done something more to save poor Miss Darcy, but I was surrounded by servants who exist solely to do their master's bidding, and I was being ejected from my second home."

The conversation was interrupted by another officer standing and announcing that they had best return to the barracks, as it was almost time for training exercises. Realizing her conversation with Mr. Wickham— as well as the entire visit— had gone on for long past the standard quarter-hour visit, she allowed him to take his leave.

As she readied herself for bed that night, Elizabeth contemplated the information the lieutenant had given her about Pemberley, its master, and the rumors from the local population. When Jane came in and interrupted her musings, Elizabeth shared the entire story with her.

Jane listened with astonishment and concern. "It's clear that there is deception of some kind occurring, in some way or other. I cannot believe a man could have a bad enough temper to actually murder his sister! And to get away with it, too!"

"But there was truth in all his looks, Jane. He had names and facts, and he was even present when Miss Darcy was heard screaming from her brother's study."

"I do not know when I have been more shocked. A magistrate being so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Wickham—only consider what he must suffer. It is really just too distressing."

"There was certainly some great mismanagement in the education of the two men," Elizabeth replied. "For in spite of being raised together, clearly only one of them received all the goodness, and the other became a monster."

Jane paused a minute, then said, "I still think there must be some sort of misunderstanding."

Elizabeth grinned. "Oh, Jane, you are just too good! You hate to think ill of anyone. All the world is kind and wonderful in your eyes."

"It will certainly be interesting to hear from our aunt and uncle about what occurs when they request to take a tour."

"Hopefully none of our relatives will come in contact with a beast!" Elizabeth said with a laugh.

On that happy note, the two sisters retired to their beds. Jane, as always, fell into the peaceful sleep of the innocent and dreamed of Mr. Bingley and his attentions.

Elizabeth, however, spent the night fighting for her life against a man in a large estate who morphed into a beast and dragged her down into the dark depths of his sinister domain.