The Unraveling of Mr Darcy

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The Unraveling of Mr Darcy Page 16

by Valerie Lennox


  He turned to look at her.

  Caroline gagged one more time, and then seemed to get herself under control. She straightened her shoulders and tossed her hair.

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth, brow furrowed.

  She raised her own eyebrows, a question.

  He shook his head firmly.

  Did she trust him? If she did not, she would call attention to Caroline now, demand to know what was the meaning of all of this. And then Darcy would be forced to take responsibility, if he indeed was responsible.

  Instead, she was silent.

  She waited until later, when she and Jane were alone, and she brought it up to her sister. It was late, and she was in her sister’s bedchamber, bidding her goodnight. She told Jane what she had seen.

  “Oh,” said Jane, “well, the smell was putrid. I’m sure Miss Bingley was naturally affected by it.”

  “I didn’t smell anything,” said Elizabeth. “No one else did except the two of you.”

  “So, what are you saying?” said Jane. “You think she is with child as well?” She bit down on her lip. “I suppose she was made a victim by Mr. Darcy.”

  “That’s just it, Jane. I know we haven’t had a chance to speak of such things, but when I was in Hunsford, I saw a different side of Mr. Darcy. He told me that he never touched Caroline, and that she only made it look as if he had in order to trap him into marrying her. You may not remember, as you were ill during your first sojourn in Netherfield, but she has always had designs on Darcy. Apparently, she was quite desperate to make them a reality.”

  Jane put her hand to her chest. “Oh, Lizzy, that is quite a lot to take in. You really think we were mistaken in our assessment of Mr. Darcy’s character?”

  “I do.”

  Jane, who always wanted to think the best of everyone, smiled. “I think my husband will be happy to hear it.”

  “But how could he be?” said Elizabeth, “when it paints his own sister with such a black brush?”

  “True,” said Jane. “That would wound him. And I fear that I am not understanding why you are telling me this, anyway. If her virtue is intact, how can she be with child?”

  “I don’t know,” said Elizabeth. “But I think you must speak to Bingley, and he must speak to her and get the truth from her.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Well, she has admitted it,” Jane told Elizabeth the next day as they took a walk in the gardens. Jane had brought with her a sprig of dried peppermint to chew if any smell was too much for her. That should help keep her illness in check. “You were right. She is with child.”

  “Oh,” said Elizabeth. “Oh, dear. That is most troubling.”

  “Yes, and my husband is beside himself,” said Jane, sighing. “He is, this very day, going to Darcy to demand that he marry his sister now, though he is not sure a scandal can be avoided, not this late.”

  “But I don’t think it is Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “Or… at least, I don’t want to think so. When it comes to Mr. Darcy, I must admit, however, I don’t always think clearly.”

  “What is this?” Jane turned to look at her, bemused. “You have always despised the man, do I not have that right?”

  “Oh, Jane, I cannot say how I feel about him.” Elizabeth twisted her hands together. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, anyway. I have no chance of ever being connected to him except through your connection to Miss Bingley, who is going to be his wife, regardless. Darcy has already agreed to marry her. He must, no matter how she has gotten with child.”

  “You think it is another man’s child?” said Jane.

  Elizabeth bit down on her bottom lip. “Perhaps… perhaps it is not someone she can respectably marry, and she hopes to have Darcy in society and this other man in the shadows. It happens in novels, you know.”

  “This is not a novel,” said Jane. “And Mr. Darcy must be the one responsible. They were discovered together, Elizabeth, by the entire household. I fear that he has simply succeeded in charming you. You must not listen to anything else he says.”

  “Oh, I do not speak to him,” said Elizabeth. “I cannot. It is too painful.”

  “That is wise,” said Jane. “And perhaps you should go back to Longbourn, so that you are away from him. I am doing much better here. I do enjoy your company, and would have you stay longer, but I would protect you from a villain like Darcy, and I would rather you safe than with me.”

  Elizabeth stopped walking.

  Jane stopped too, a pace or too ahead. She turned back to her sister.

  “I do not, not in my heart, think he is a villain,” she said. “You seemed to believe me last night.”

  “Yes, but now I have spoken to Bingley,” said Jane, “and his heart is hardened toward Darcy, and I think he is in the right. He is grieved, of course, by Darcy’s awfulness, but he cannot hide from the truth.”

  Elizabeth started to walk again. “I think you are right, and I should go. But I will tell you that I cannot believe the worst of Darcy. He was too good to me, and it wasn’t out of some false charm with the intent to ensnare me. He walked back and forth miles through the mud in the pouring rain to get me to you, Jane. He is good. I know he is.”

  * * *

  There was a knock on the door of Darcy’s room. He spent most of his time here, with a book. He often went for long rides, and on those rides, he questioned what he was still doing at Netherfield and why he had not gone. For he was no closer to convincing himself to marry Caroline. He was not sure he could do it.

  The exchange in the drawing room with Elizabeth had confused him even more. At first he thought he quite understood her meaning. That if Caroline felt ill, she must be in the same condition as Jane, and therefore, it must be his fault. And he had denied that. But then he wondered if he had indeed understood her, or if it had been something else.

  More than once, late at night, he’d considered going through the darkened halls of the house and looking for Elizabeth’s room. Usually, it was with a dishonorable intent. He had nothing to offer her, but he wanted her anyway. He spun ideas in his head about taking Elizabeth as a mistress and finding some way to make their children legitimate. Perhaps if he had no children with Caroline, there would be less of a barrier. And he could be sure of that as long as he never bedded her.

  But he could not ask such a thing of Elizabeth. She deserved better, and he knew that.

  He wasn’t the sort of man who kept a mistress.

  Last night, he’d wanted to go to her, but not just because he wanted her. Also because he wanted to know if he had understood her properly or not. He didn’t go, though. He would do nothing else to injure her, he vowed it to himself. He had already made a mess of things. To think that he had kissed her.

  He had treated her badly, and he felt such shame. It was best if he stayed away from her. However, if she ever needed anything, he would always be at her service.

  Now, Darcy answered the door to find Bingley standing without.

  “May I come in?” said Bingley.

  “Certainly,” said Darcy, making room for the other man to enter. He shut the door after him.

  Then the two men stood there in silence, casting their glances everywhere but at each other, for several long moments.

  Finally, Darcy cleared his throat. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Actually, yes. You can marry my sister.”

  Darcy sighed. They were coming to that, were they? “Listen, Bingley, something came up yesterday, something that might change things for me. I am eager to avoid scandal, but I am not eager to wear horns. Nor am I eager to raise a child who is not my own as my heir, and I must ask you to find out from your sister whether or not she is with child.”

  “You bastard!” Bingley folded his arms over his chest. “How dare you refuse to claim your own child?”

  “I have never touched your sister,” said Darcy. “I told you when I left that it was impossible that she was with child, didn’t I? And if she had been, she would surely show
signs by now. This is someone else. This is some other wrinkle of her wickedness.” He rubbed his forehead. “You are saying that it is true, then? That she is with child?”

  “She has admitted it to me,” said Bingley. “At first, she tried to say that it was not so, but then she dissolved into tears and finally allowed that it was true. I told her that I would find you and demand that you make it right. But, as you say, it has been some time, and she will likely give birth by the summer, so you must marry at once. There is no time to waste.”

  Darcy scratched at his chin. “I suppose it makes sense why she came to me that night and was so desperate that I have her. She wanted to blame it on me.”

  “What are you speaking of?”

  “Your sister, man, is a demoness,” said Darcy. “She has spun all this as a web to trap me, but I fear she may have miscalculated, and now she is in true trouble. I do not know what man is the father of her babe, but it is not me, and I will not marry her.”

  “You will marry her,” said Bingley. “I shall force you to marry her.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “If you do not agree, I shall challenge you to a duel.”

  “Oh, that’s a capital idea,” said Darcy, smiling grimly. “Then I shall be forced to shoot you. And your sister will have neither a brother nor a husband, because I shall still not marry her.”

  “I shall shoot you, you cad,” said Bingley. “And then…” He thought that through for several moments.

  “And then your sister will still be assured of ruin,” said Darcy. “As I said, brilliant idea.”

  Bingley was quiet a moment. “If you will not agree to marry her, then I shall not host you under my roof any longer.”

  “Excellent, I shall be gone within the hour,” said Darcy. “Now, if you would kindly take your leave—”

  “Darcy, how can you be this way?”

  Darcy gave him a pleading look. “It is not my child, Bingley. Please believe me. It was one thing to be trapped into a marriage, but to be forced to let another man’s child be heir to Pemberley… I cannot do it. For the sake of my dead parents, I cannot.”

  Bingley looked at him for several long moments, his brow furrowed as if he could make neither heads or tails of the matter, and then he threw up his hands, muttered a few oaths under his breath, and quit the room.

  * * *

  Darcy was in the stables saddling a horse. He would send for everything else later. He didn’t want to spend another moment in this dreadful place. The only good time he could say he had spent was the time he had spent with Elizabeth here, but then, even that wasn’t good, because it was only a source of agony for him currently.

  Except, damnation, why was that?

  He had just made it plain that he was not going to marry Caroline, not under any circumstances. So, whatever was in his way with Elizabeth…

  He let go of the saddle, leaving it unbuckled, and left the stable. He hurried back into the house. He paused downstairs, poking his head in to find Jane reading in the drawing room. When he inquired after Elizabeth, Jane said that she was upstairs packing.

  “Packing, hmm?” said Darcy. Good, he thought. Then she could come along with him. He’d spirit her off and elope with her, and that would be that. Of course, they couldn’t gallop off on one horse together. He’d need his coach. But that could all be sorted out momentarily.

  He started up the steps.

  When he got to the landing of the second floor, Elizabeth was there, coming down the hallway. She saw him and started. “Mr. Darcy.”

  “Elizabeth,” he said, not caring if he called her an improper name.

  Her eyes widened. “Sir—”

  “Miss Bennet,” he corrected. “I have come looking for you. I wish to speak to you now.”

  She licked her lips. “Well, I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea—”

  “I’m not going to marry Miss Bingley,” he said.

  “You’re not?” She looked around the hallway, seeming a bit overwhelmed. “But, sir, I thought that you were obliged to—”

  “She is with child,” said Darcy. “And I am not responsible, and I will not be party to the cover up of her sin. She must find the man who is responsible and…” He shook his head. “No matter. That is not important. What is important is that I am free, and I see no reason why we should waste anymore time.” He held out his hand to her. “Come with me now. Marry me on the road. I want you with me now. I want you with me always. I don’t want to be parted from you again, not for any reason.”

  Her lips parted. She looked at his outstretched hand and then into his eyes, and then back at his hand.

  He pulled his hand back. “You do not believe me. You think that I have ruined Miss Bingley and now I am running out on her.” His nostrils flared and he cast his gaze down at his shoes. “I can see why you would, I suppose. I have no way to prove my innocence. I had hoped that you would—”

  “No, that is not…” She cleared her throat. “I do believe you. I… this is all very sudden. You appear at the top of the steps and demand that I elope with you, and I am trying to catch my breath and gather my thoughts is all.”

  “What is there to think about if you believe me?” he said. “And what use is breathing? I have known from the moment I laid eyes on you that you were different than any woman I had ever known, and you are the only woman I will even consider marrying, so…” He took a breath. Then he stepped back. “I suppose it would be a bit scandalous, wouldn’t it? People will say things about me. They will assume the worst about what happened with Miss Bingley. You will be drawn into that.” Damn it all, he had sworn never to bring her any pain. He was dragging her down into the mud with him. He took another step backwards. “My apologies, Miss Bennet. I did not think it through before I…” The steps were there. He turned, descending two of them, clutching the railing.

  “Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “If you could but wait a moment.”

  “No, I fear that I have made an ass of myself,” he said. “It will be difficult enough salvaging what damage this will do to Georgiana, but I have no choice. I cannot marry Caroline, and I won’t. But I will not drag you into this. I should not have asked you for such a thing. Excuse me.” He started down the stairs in haste.

  “Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth called after him.

  He didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Elizabeth pounded down the steps after Mr. Darcy, calling after him. But he was going too quickly, and she was obliged to go more slowly, due to the length of her skirts. By the time she got outside, she saw that Darcy had already climbed onto his horse and was galloping away.

  She yelled after him one last time, but he was too far away. He either didn’t hear her or wasn’t inclined to respond, as he had not been inclined the last ten times she had yelled for him.

  She stood there, watching him go, billows of dust coming up from the back of the hoofs of his horse, her hands on her hips.

  Infuriating man.

  His proposal had been irregular, to be true, and it would not be an easy road ahead of the two of them. But she was fairly sure that she had been about to accept. Her only concern had been her family, Jane and her child specifically, and the problems that the rumors might cause for them. But she had been about to throw caution to the wind and say yes anyway, because she was bound for misery anyway, and Mr. Darcy had the means to help her family, even if he had a tarnished reputation.

  But now he was gone.

  She squared her shoulders. “That is the third time he has proposed to me,” she whispered. Was it likely he’d do it a fourth time or was this truly the end of all that had passed between them in the past few months? Would she even see him again?

  She would write to him. She would find out where he had gone, and then she would send him a letter, and then—

  Was that Caroline Bingley walking down the road there?

  Why, yes, it was.

  What was she doing on the road?

&
nbsp; Elizabeth knew that Caroline often took long walks alone in the gardens, but she had not expected to see her sister-in-law walking on the road, as if she was heading to a destination. That was all very interesting. Elizabeth picked up her skirts and went after her.

  She did not follow too closely, but far enough back to stay out of sight.

  Caroline walked a long, long way, all the way to Meryton, which Elizabeth found surprising. Though she and her sisters often made the walk themselves from Longbourn, she had not thought of Caroline as the kind of woman who be satisfied with such a means of transportation. But Elizabeth supposed that walking had its advantages, as it involved no one else and could be kept secret.

  Wherever Caroline was going, she probably didn’t want anyone to know about it.

  Indeed, when they arrived at Meryton, Caroline did not go into town, but walked around. She settled under a large tree in a field near a brook. She leaned against the tree trunk, stared out at the horizon, and waited.

  Elizabeth waited too.

  She was beginning to think that perhaps she had been wrong. Perhaps Caroline was only going on long walks because she needed time to think. After all, she was in a desperate situation, and if something weren’t done soon, she would likely be cast out of her brother’s society and left to make it on her own some way or the other. Despite herself, Elizabeth felt a tiny shred of pity for Caroline.

  The woman had set herself on this path, to be sure, and she didn’t deserve anything better, but it was still a harsh future that awaited her.

  But then, a man in a red coat galloped up on horseback. In another moment, Elizabeth recognized him.

  Mr. Wickham.

  Elizabeth’s heart went into her throat. Of course. She had seen the way Wickham had latched onto Caroline at that ball, completely ignoring Elizabeth herself. And from what she knew of Wickham, including what Darcy had told her, he was desperate to attach himself to a woman of fortune by one means or the other. He had tried it with Georgiana, and there was little doubt that he would not try it again.

  Caroline’s child was almost surely Mr. Wickham’s.

 

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