Longbourn's Songbird

by Beau North

  ***

  Caroline was exhausted and sore. She wanted nothing more than a cold drink and a hot bath, and in that order. She stepped lightly on the slick stone walkway, shaking her head and cursing her foolishness. How did she let herself get wrapped up in George Wickham again and again? He was a capable lover, there was no denying that, but she’d long seen past his beauty and charm to the calculating player beneath. Most women would be repulsed by his true character—mean spirited, petty, with a robust carnal appetite—but Caroline only felt herself more attracted. There was no risk of forming an attachment with someone like Wickham, and that appealed to her. He was a modern-day embodiment of such infamous scoundrels as Robert Lovelace or the Vicomte de Valmont. A villain indeed, but so charismatic that Caroline could not help but be drawn to him.

  She shuddered to think what Will Darcy would ever say, not only if he were to learn of her involvement with Wickham but that Caroline had encouraged young Georgiana to run away with him. It had been her plan to wait until the two were safely out of the state before going to Darcy, seemingly concerned and pretending that her young friend had confided in her a plan to elope and their probable location. Darcy would swoop in and save his sister, and Caroline would be the hero, the savior of a young girl’s virtue.

  But of course, all her careful planning had gone out the window when Wickham, rightly not trusting her, changed destinations at the last minute without telling her. He phoned her demanding money, which she reluctantly sent, and kept her silence while Darcy frantically searched for his sister. She wasn’t proud of herself, but she wasn’t so moved as to repent her actions.

  Georgiana Darcy had every advantage that Caroline lacked: a fortune of her own and freedom from the burden of parents. Yes, Caroline’s father had been wealthy, but he’d also been a monster. When he wasn’t hitting the bottle, he was hitting them, sometimes with the belt or his fists, but his weapon of choice had been words. All three Bingley children had grown up being told they were useless and would never amount to anything. Charles and Caroline had enough of the same fire in them that they’d come into adulthood determined to prove him wrong—though through very different means—while Louisa had married the first slob who made her an offer, simply to get away from the old bastard.

  Caroline Bingley had seen in Georgiana Darcy the girlhood she should have had, and at her bitter core, she had wanted to see that corrupted.

  Maybe the risk is too high, she thought as she climbed the steps to Netherfield’s wide wraparound porch. Something glinted in the sun, catching Caroline’s eye. She stopped, bending down to pick it up. Her fingers brushed the dirt aside and pulled up a delicate gold chain with an oval locket. She recognized the bauble Eliza Bennet wore with every outfit, no matter how unmatched. Caroline reckoned it must have been lost the day of the accident.

  She turned it over in her hand, remembering the way Eliza always seemed to worry the locket without even realizing what she was doing. She didn’t expect much, but her curiosity got the better of her. She used her fingernail to find the catch, prying the locket open.

  She got much more than she’d bargained for.

  ***

  The afternoon was thick with gnats and mayflies. Not for the first time, Wickham admitted to himself that he detested the country. He’d always preferred the bustle of cities and their confusion of smells and sounds. Out here in the middle of nowhere Meryton, the only sound to be heard was birdsong and the occasional sound of a car or groan of a tractor lumbering down Route 2. He checked his hair and teeth in the rearview mirror before climbing out of the car and making his way to the farmhouse.

  Caroline hinted in their last rendezvous that she had found something that would prove useful. Wickham didn’t ask her any details; Carrie could play her game, and he’d play his. Right now, it was fun just to let it be known that he’d been paying court to Elizabeth Bennet. He knew it would flush Darcy out sooner than later, and then they’d see where they stood.

  He had long wearied of the polite porch meetings with the Bennet women. While they were all pleasing to the eye, they were entirely too sweet and good and upright for his tastes. He suspected Elizabeth was not quite the picture of wholesomeness he’d originally thought. There was a weight in her gaze when she looked at him lately, as though she saw through him. He understood why Darcy liked her; the two were more alike than either of them seemed to realize.

  So he was surprised to see that Elizabeth alone was waiting to welcome him that day. She sat on the porch swing, shelling peas into a big green bowl. He climbed the steps to Longbourn’s front porch warily with eyes only for her. She gave him an indulgent smile, and he relaxed a little. Maybe she was just waiting until her mother wasn’t around before she showed me any signs, he thought.

  The sound of his footfall on the porch brought Mrs. Bennet to the door.

  “Oh, Mr. Wickham! We had no idea to expect you today!”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth,” he said pleasantly. Again, Elizabeth gave him an enigmatic smile.

  “Mr. Bennet has taken Kitty and Lydia back to their school in Charleston.” Mrs. Bennet prattled on as she came outside, handing him a glass of iced tea. Elizabeth continued to watch him, silent and unreadable as the sphinx.

  “I’m leaving soon myself,” he said. “We’re bound for training maneuvers. I expect we’ll be gone a few weeks.”

  Elizabeth spoke at last, still separating peas from their pods.

  “Well, these things do happen. But serving your country is such an honor. That is why you joined the army, isn’t it, George?”

  Wickham’s insides turned to ice. Darcy! She had spun a fine web with all her smiles, and now he found himself well and trapped. Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with a fierce light, and he knew this avenue was likely closed to him.

  “Well, of course that’s why he joined, Lizzie!” Mrs. Bennet scolded, taking her bowl of peas back into the kitchen. “I’m sure you’re very brave, George,” she said from the other side of the screen door.

  “Yes, Mother, I’m sure you’re right,” Elizabeth said, still watching him carefully, that languid smile still playing at her lips. “Though I’ve heard it said that the line between bravery and stupidity is so fine you won’t know you’ve crossed it until you’re dead. What do you think, Mr. Wickham?”

  Wickham opened his mouth to say he knew not what, but she interrupted him with a girlish laugh.

  “Oh, what am I saying? Please do forgive my manners, George. Yes, I’m sure the army gained a fine solider in you. It’s so very difficult to tell the difference these days between good men who deserve respect and two-bit, silver-tongued hucksters giving any Jill that catches their eye a line about a tragic misfortune.” She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes cutting like daggers.

  Wickham’s mouth went dry. “It’s hard to believe anyone could get that one past you, Lizzie.”

  “Oh, but you’d be surprised! I’ve heard some tragedies that would make the Bard himself weep.”

  “I trust Miss Charlotte had a nice time for her birthday,” he said, changing tactics. She might have thrown the first volley, but I’ve got arrows of my own.

  “I believe she did at that. Was it your first steeplechase?”

  “Good heavens, no.” Wickham laughed. Elizabeth’s color rose slightly. “I noticed you joined Will Darcy and his cousin Anne in Mrs. DeBourgh’s box that afternoon.”

  His arrow hit its intended target. Mrs. Bennet came back out onto the porch, her eyes wide with shock. “Lizzie! Why wouldn’t you tell us that? What an honor that must have been!” Elizabeth stifled a groan.

  “To be quite honest, Mama, it slipped my mind. You know, sometimes my brains are as scarce as a hen’s teeth.”

  “I’m surprised to hear that,” Wickham said smoothly. “You seemed to get on pretty well with that set, considering when we first met you told me how much you disliked Will Darcy.”

  “Well,” she said, “I believe that Mr. Darcy definitely improves on better a
cquaintance.” She tried to ignore the sudden sharpness in her mother’s eyes. “And I found Anne DeBourgh to be a smart, interesting woman.”

  Mrs. Bennet was looking at her daughter with calculating interest. “Would you like to stay for dinner, George?” she asked politely.

  “I’m afraid I can’t stay,” he said, giving her a charming smile. “We leave in the morning, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Bennet seemed relieved to hear it. She smiled and wished him well on his next adventure.

  Wickham made his good-byes and got back in his car, silently hoping that, whatever Caroline had found, it was useful. Elizabeth disappeared inside for a moment before she came bounding off the porch towards him. He rolled the window, and she leaned down so she could speak to him.

  “Proud of yourself?” he asked. Hard eyes met his; her smiles were put away like a Sunday dress. She handed him a book: Meditations by Marcus Aurelius.

  “Receive without conceit,” she said, arching her eyebrow at him. “I’d really appreciate it if you forgot where we lived.”

  Wickham laughed mirthlessly and started the car. “Keep the book. You and Darcy make a fine pair.”

  With that, he drove off, the dust from his wake obscuring her in the rearview mirror. He was unused to not having the upper hand with the fairer sex. In fact, this was the only time in his life a woman had gotten the better of him. He felt his ire towards Darcy shift focus. I’m not done with you, girl, he thought as he sped out of Meryton. I’m just getting started.

  He was more right than even he knew.

  ***

  Georgiana looked up from her book in surprise at the sound coming from the other side of the breakfast table.

  Her brother was reading the paper with his coffee as he did every morning, but this time a small smile played across his lips, lightening his face.

  “Are you humming?”

  Darcy smiled as if he were enjoying a private joke. “Is that not allowed?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so,” she said. “You’re not…typically prone to humming.”

  His eyes flicked up to her, fully smiling at her now.

  “Are you sure you’re all right? You’re acting strange—you know, for you.”

  He folded his newspaper with none of his usual precision. “I’m just looking forward to Bingley’s birthday party. Do you know if Richard got his invitation before he left?”

  “I think so; he joked about packing his anti-venom kit just in case Caroline Bingley got any ideas,” she said with a laugh. “Oh don’t frown at me like that, Will. I do know one or two things.”

  Darcy shook his head with a touch of regret. “You’re growing up so fast. You should have someone in your life to talk about…these things.”

  Both of them turned so red with embarrassment that there was a palpable sense of relief when Mrs. Reynolds popped her head in to let Mr. Darcy know that his bags had been taken down and the car was ready and waiting for him. He thanked her and let her know he’d be down as soon as he was finished with breakfast.

  “Do you mind being left here with Mrs. Annesley again? You know you’re more than welcome to come, Georgie. You’re invited, too. I know how much Charles would love to see you.”

  Georgiana shook her head. She was fond of Charles Bingley, but she was painfully shy around strangers, and his birthday party would be full of them. Also, she wasn’t sure she could handle being in the same room with Caroline Bingley after the events of the previous year.

  “No. I still have a long way to go with my lessons.” This wasn’t exactly true but an excuse she knew her brother would accept.

  Darcy was thinking how much his sister could benefit from having a woman like Elizabeth Bennet in her life. No, he thought. Not a woman “like” her. He knew that Elizabeth’s liveliness and vitality would bring out those traits in his sister the way they had with him. She could bring laughter back to Pemberley.

  Two weeks had passed since their talk under the stars—two weeks of restless nights as he tried to recall every moment in detail. Some of that night was already smudged by time, but one thing he recalled with perfect clarity: her putting her hand over his heart. He knew it would have been the easiest thing in the world for him to lean down and kiss her, but he wanted to be sure. He would not do what he had done all those months ago at Netherfield. He would not steal her kiss; he would wait until she offered it freely.

  Elizabeth deserved to be courted. And I will do it properly, he decided as he went back to his paper—and his humming.

  ***

  Jane had rarely been as entertained as she was that afternoon at Netherfield. It was obvious to her that Bingley was trying to find a way for the two of them to be alone, a thought that made her pulse race in a way she’d never felt before. It hadn’t escaped her notice that every vase in Netherfield was brimming with daffodils and bellflowers, which were her favorites, or that Bingley was dressed in his Sunday best.

  However, they found themselves constantly interrupted by a strangely buoyant Darcy, recently returned from Pemberley. After several failed attempts at conversation, Bingley had taken Jane’s hand and led her wordlessly to the kitchen, where they each took a seat at the breakfast table.

  He told her he had something important to ask her but couldn’t seem to make himself speak. He had several nervous false starts, stammering and blushing. Jane didn’t push, calmly telling him to take his time, occupying herself by studying the lines of his profile. Her eyes roamed from the straight slope of his nose to the fine planes of his cheekbones to the curls at the nape of his neck tempting her fingers. She loved all these things about him, but they were just the icing on the cake to her. She would have loved him no matter what he looked like, because he had the truest heart of anyone she’d ever known.

  He just seemed to be coming to a point where he could speak when Darcy entered the room with an uncharacteristic smile on his face and a fervency in his eyes that Jane had never seen before.

  “Charles, there you are! I’m sorry I didn’t ask before, Jane…how are you this morning?”

  “Very well, Mr. Dar—”

  “I hardly slept a wink last night.” Darcy went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “I must have had too many things on my mind. That reminds me, Charles, what did you want for your birthday?”

  “My kitchen.” Bingley growled, frowning at his friend. It was such a role reversal that Jane had to bite her cheek to keep herself from laughing out loud.

  Darcy’s brow furrowed, his smile still rooted in place. “Your kitchen? Bingley, you are an odd duck. Have I ever told you that?”

  Bingley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as though warding off a headache. Darcy continued on, unaware of his friend’s irritation.

  “Speaking of things I haven’t told you. Thank you for inviting Richard to your birthday party. He’s been in Boston visiting some old army friends. It’s been over a month since I’ve seen him. So the three of us will be together again, just like old times! We used to get into some trouble, though, didn’t we?”

  Bingley’s expression quickly went from annoyance to alarm as he cast a quick look at Jane, who could hide her smile no longer. She raised an eyebrow at her beau in a way that would have made Elizabeth proud.

  “Darce—”

  “Though it was really more you and Richard, dragging me along to—”

  “Darcy!” Charles raised his voice. Darcy stopped and looked at his friend, whose face was like a thunderhead, and Jane, whose shoulders shook with silent laughter. His color rose, making even Bingley’s mouth twitch. To Jane’s surprise, Darcy did not assume his usual coldness, but gave them a crooked, apologetic smile.

  “Ah…sorry, Charles, Jane. I tend to run on I suppose.”

  “Run on? Run on? Good God, Darcy I’ve never heard you string so many words together in my life! What in God’s name has gotten into you?”

  Darcy grinned, shocking them both. Bingley gave him a pointed look and nodded towards the door.

  “Right,
” Darcy said, taking the hint at last. “I’ll just…right.”

  “You know,” Jane said after Darcy left the room, “that kind of change in behavior would worry most medical professionals.”

  “Forget him,” Bingley said irritably. This was not going the way he’d hoped. “Jane, what would you think about getting married? To me, I mean?”

  Jane blinked in surprise. “Mr. Bingley, was that a marriage proposal? Am I supposed to take that as a confession of love and devotion?”

  “What if it was?”

  “Oh no. This will never do,” she said with a laugh. “I think you’d better try again.”

  Bingley came out of his chair, sitting back on his knees in front of her. He put a hand on either side of her face, looking straight into her eyes.

  “Jane Madeline Bennet…I was incomplete until the first time I saw you, standing there in your blue dress. I knew from that night that I wanted to share all my days and nights with you.”

  “But Charles…” She touched a hand to his face.

  “I want all of you,” he said roughly. “Do you think I would let anything sway me? Do you think my love for you so weak that I would be scared away by your condition?”

  “What about children? You know I’m not supposed to—”

  “We will adopt if you want a family. And you will be a remarkable mother.”

  Jane didn’t bother to wipe the tears that fell from her eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Haven’t I proven that I mean it? How could you possibly doubt me?”

  “You have,” she said happily. “You’ve proven yourself at every turn.”

  “So what do you say, darling Jane?”

  Jane surprised them both by putting her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. It was all the answer he needed.

  ***

  Jane had wasted no time in giving Elizabeth the good news, resulting in such squeals of happiness that anyone within earshot would have assumed it was the two youngest Bennet sisters upstairs rather than the two eldest. Elizabeth hugged her dearest sister tightly, wearing a smile she was certain would break her face in half.