by Sarah Darcy
Elizabeth was frustrated by his vague answer - was he being polite by saying nothing or did he care more for Caroline than she realised? She hung her head in despair. ‘I cannot face that ballroom again.’ She put her hand to her forehead. ‘I must retire to my room.’
‘What about my dance?’ Mr Darcy enquired.
‘I thought you were dancing with Miss Bingley?’
‘Yes as a formality,’ Fitwilliam said. ‘But the dance I was looking forward to was yours.’
‘Thank you for your kind words.’ Elizabeth began to blush.
‘Now that good relations have been restored,’ Mr Darcy smirked. ‘You must return to the dance floor,’ he said firmly. ‘Or the gossip mongers would see your absence as a small victory for their malicious lies.’
‘I cannot.’ Elizabeth fiddled with a necklace around her neck. ‘My courage has deserted me.’
‘Elizabeth,’ Fitzwilliam sighed. ‘You must dance with me.’
‘I will.’ She gave him a challenging look. ‘But you must dance with me before Caroline.’
Mr Darcy was surprised by her demand. ‘Miss Bingley would be most displeased to be upstaged by a..’
‘Commoner like me,’ Elizabeth smirked.
‘No.’ He stared deep into her eyes. ‘By a woman with more beauty and substance..’
Elizabeth was stunned by the compliment. Mr Darcy escorted her into the ballroom with a smile. ‘A dance Miss Bennet?’
Chapter 31
Mr Wickham watched Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth engage in another dance. It was obvious they only had eyes for each other, as they exchanged affectionate smiles. George felt a tinge of jealousy - he should be serenading Miss Bennet on the dance floor not Fitzwilliam.
‘Look at Mr Darcy, what a hypocrite,’ George sneered to Joe. ‘Leading on a young girl out of his class.’ He could not believe how taken Elizabeth was by Mr Darcy. Before the Christmas ball she had repelled all interest in him, now he was the centre of her world - but for how long?
George was convinced that Fitzwilliam’s interest in Elizabeth was not genuine. There had to be something else going on, he mused. Maybe he was using Miss Bennet’s charms to dissuade Lady Catherine’s proposed marriage to her sickly daughter, Anne. That’s it!
George narrowed his eyes with suspicion - so that is why he invited all the Bennet sisters to this ball. If he ruined his reputation by liaising with the lower orders, Lady Catherine would not recommend a ‘supposed scoundrel’ to be betrothed to her niece.
It wouldn’t matter if he had a baby out of wedlock with any of the Bennet sisters. But the most likely candidate would be Elizabeth. Once the deed was done he could pay her off and escape to London Society. Then he could liaise with any woman he desired. Maybe he should warn Elizabeth?
∞∞∞
‘What enchanting lives these rich people have.’ Joe Barton cut into Wickham’s thoughts. ‘They have plenty of everything. Food, wine, women.’ He let out a weary sigh. ‘While the working class make do with the scraps of humanity the high and mighty bestow upon us.’
‘It’s a harsh world if you lose your reputation with these people,’ George replied a little morose. ‘They are quick to judge you. Then throw you out of their lives for good.’ He gulped back a cup of punch.
‘Vengeful words from the soul,’ Joe declared.
‘I speak from experience,’ Wickham sneered.
‘I speak from the heart too,’ Joe retorted. ‘My children are starving. My wife is on the edge of hysteria.’ An anger rose inside him. ‘And all because I had to attend a funeral and leave Lady Catherine to fend for herself. But the thing I despise her more for is her greedy agreement to the Fencing Off Act.’
‘It’s a cruel world if you’re poor,’ Wickham surmised.
‘Catherine de Burgh will never be poor,’ Joe scoffed. ‘She has acres of land to live off, while the rest of us have none.’
George gazed at the packed ball room. ‘Don’t fret young man. It will not be long before you get your revenge.’
∞∞∞
As the evening progressed the packed ballroom became very warm. Some ladies retired from the dance floor to fan their hot brows. Elizabeth and Jane also retired for some air out on the terrace followed by Fitzwilliam and Charles.
As the Bennet sisters admired a rambling flower display on the terrace, Mr Bingley had a quiet word with Mr Darcy. ‘I don’t know why I feel this way.’ He gazed back at the ballroom through the open French doors. ‘But I feel a little uneasy about those two musicians over there.’ He pointed out George Wickham and Joe Barton still in disguise with their decorative eye masks.
Fitzwilliam looked over at the men. ‘They seem agreeable enough to me,’ he pondered. ‘They did put on a good show for the ladies and gentlemen.’
‘I don’t doubt their musical ability,’ Charles said. ‘But they keep muttering between themselves and looking in our direction.’
‘I must admit I did notice them linger a little longer at the buffet table,’ Mr Darcy replied. ‘Once they ate and drank as much as they were able, one of them filled his pockets with plenty of pies and cakes.’
‘The last folk band did not behave like that at the last ball,’ Mr Bingley recalled. ‘Lady Catherine is very particular about correct manners for performers.’
‘I believe some of them are from Cornwall,’ Mr Darcy said. ‘Maybe they are not familiar with my aunt’s strict code of behaviour.’
‘If that is the case we must keep a discreet eye of them.’ Mr Bingley returned a defiant stare at Mr Wickham.
∞∞∞
Joe Barton swayed unsteadily on his feet. ‘Have you consumed enough food and drink yet?’
‘I’ve had my fill.’ Mr Wickham knocked back his tankard in one go. ‘But another tankard of punch will put me in the mood for..’
‘Mischief and mayhem?’ Joe sniggered. He knocked back another tankard of punch too. He came up gasping for air. ‘That’s a bit strong.’
‘Got a nice punch to it,’ George smirked. ‘Just poured in a large quantity of rum and brandy.’
‘Up to your own tricks.’ Joe looked over his shoulder. ‘Did anyone see you?’
‘Not this time,’ George sniggered. ‘Revenge is sweet.’
Joe rubbed his hands in glee. ‘Time for a riot.’
Chapter 32
Joe stumbled across the ballroom into a group of officers. When one of them demanded an apology he refused. This resulted in an angry scuffle that erupted on to the dance floor.
The rogues from the folk band ran forward and joined in the scuffle. As they threw punches at the rest of the officers, they all became entangled in a large violent brawl.
As sporadic fighting broke chairs and tables were knocked over. Some of the ladies began to scream and fled the room in panic. The rest of the gentlemen protested in anger at the anarchy that had descended upon the evening.
Mr Darcy looked on in horror as the violence spilled out onto the terrace outside. Charles had been right to be suspicious about the folk band. There had been a lot of unrest in Meryton about the affect of the Fencing Act. It was obvious that some militant farmers had infiltrated the folk band to gain access to Rosings Park.
Mr Bingley ushered the Bennet sisters aside as an irate Mr Darcy followed the sprawling mob onto the lawn. At the centre of the crowd was Mr Wickham engaged in a fist fight with a large officer. As Mr Darcy pushed through the crowds George’s mask fell from his face.
‘Mr Wickham what are you doing here!’ Fitzwilliam gasped as George knocked out the officer across the lawn. ‘How dare you bring trouble and mayhem to Rosings Park.’
‘You brought this on to yourself Mr Darcy,’ he announced to the crowd. ‘And your selfish, greedy Aunt.’
‘Leave Lady Catherine out of this,’ Mr Darcy said trying to control his anger.
‘Her policy to enforce the Fencing Act,’ George sneered into his face. ‘Has left many families that live off the land in the county starving.’
&n
bsp; ‘Here, here.’ An angry mob that had been hiding in the grounds gathered around Mr Wickham.
‘Listen to what I have to say.’ Mr Darcy stood up to the mob. ‘My Aunt may reconsider her policy and may only fence offer certain acres of her land,’ he reflected. ‘But only by peaceful negotiation.’
‘They’re not interested in fancy words,’ Wickham shouted to the crowd. ‘The countryside belongs to everyone.’ He turned back to Fitzwilliam. ‘Not a handful of greedy landowners.’
‘Here, here,’ the mob shouted again, more fierce and determined than before.
Fitzwilliam could see that the crowd were getting out of hand. He had to maintain his authority before things got out of control. George could see the panic in his eyes. He laughed in his face.
‘Don’t taunt me,’ Mr Darcy sneered with clenched fists. ‘I should have had it out with you at the Christmas Ball.’
‘Oh yes,’ Wickham’s eyes lit up. ‘Didn’t you challenge me to a dual?’
‘I still remember you’re derogatory remarks about my sister, Georgiana.’
‘What remarks?’ Mr Wickham lied.
‘Don’t tempt me,’ Mr Darcy raised his fists.
Elizabeth and Jane rushed forward with Mr Bingley as the men engaged in more verbal insults. Mrs Bennet and the rest of her daughters had also come out to see what all the commotion was about.
The insults became more personal between the men as they pushed each other about. ‘I’m more concerned about your interest in Elizabeth Bennet,’ George teased.
‘Keep Miss Bennet out of this,’ Fitzwilliam warned.
‘She is the object of your affections is she not,’ George taunted.
‘My private life is none of your business,’ Fitzwilliam chastised.
‘It should be Lady Catherine’s business.’ Mr Darcy returned a blank look. ‘Surely a baby out of wedlock would stop your betrothal to Lady Anne de Bourgh.’
‘That is an outrageous comment to make!’ Mr Darcy shouted. He threw a rain of punches that nearly knocked Mr Wickham onto the ground.
Mrs Bennet was shocked by Mr Wickham’s accusation. ‘Elizabeth why is he saying that.’
‘I don’t know Mama,’ Elizabeth replied in a daze. ‘It is certainly not true. Mr Darcy intentions have always been honourable towards me.’
Jane put her arm around Mrs Bennet. ‘Mama, don’t distress yourself. It is all lies. You must know that Mr Wickham brings mayhem were ever he goes.’
Tears spilled down Mrs Bennet’s face. ‘I don’t know what to believe anymore,’
As Mrs Bennet sobbed in Jane’s arms, Elizabeth tried to pull the men apart.
‘Please stop,’ she shouted. ‘I don’t want duals or fights of any kind over my honour.’
The men broke apart from the fight and looked at her.
‘What honour?’ Mr Wickham replied with a manic laugh. ‘Which Gentleman have you come to defend this time harlot?’
Elizabeth returned a look of disgust. ‘What are you saying?’
‘You had a liaison with me.’ He looked around at the jeering mob.
‘And now you have a liaison with Mr Darcy.’
‘You know that is not true.’ Elizabeth began to cry. ‘Why are you telling lies about me?’
George smirked into her face. ‘But are they lies?’
‘You abdominal man,’ Mr Darcy raged. ‘Apologise at once.’
Mr Wickham laughed in his face.
Mr Darcy could not control his temper anymore. He threw more punches more fierce than before. But Wickham staggered back for more. As they knocked each other down, they fell onto the lawn and engaged in a brutal wrestling match.
Elizabeth looked around in horror as the baying crowd jeered for more. On one side of the fight was the mob cheering for Mr Wickham. On the other side all of the officers joined by Lydia and Kitty were hooting for Mr Darcy.
Elizabeth caught the eye of Caroline Bingley and Mrs Hurst on the terrace. They returned a hostile glare, as if she were responsible for the chaos that had descended upon Rosings Park.
Elizabeth could not believe how her fortunes had changed in the space of an hour. Could it get any worse?
Chapter 33
A grand carriage pulled by six horses swept through the gates of Rosings Park. Catherine de Bourgh and Miss Woodward, her lady in waiting had returned early from her visit to Scotland.
They had left behind Anne de Bourgh who was very fond of the highlands. The fresh Scottish air was beneficial to her sickly constitution. Lady Catherine’s cousin, Lady Diane McDonald, promised to return Anne with them on a visit to Rosings Park next week.
However, Lady Catherine was eager to return to Rosings Park. She was looking forward to a warm blazing fire, a soothing hot chocolate and the comfort of sleeping in her own bed at last.
But as the carriage wound up the long driveway, she was alarmed by the sight of a jeering mob of men through the trees. ‘Has the coachman turned into the wrong estate,’ she gasped through the window. ‘This can’t be Rosings Park?’
‘Of course it is Milady,’ Miss Woodward said. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Is that an illegal boxing match in the grounds?’ Miss Woodward bent forward in her seat. ‘You know I would never permit such an atrocious sport.’
‘My goodness you’re right.’ Her lady in waiting said in a state of shock. ‘Do you think Mr Darcy might have permitted it?’
‘Mr Darcy would never partake in such a vulgar sport.’
‘There must be something going on.’ Miss Woodward looked at the house. ‘There are a lot of candles still alight.’ She pointed over to the terrace. ‘Who are those ladies assembled on the terrace?’
‘What kind of ladies?’ Lady Catherine widened her eyes in horror. ‘Has Mr Darcy invited a bunch of harlots to my house?’
Miss Woodward returned a look of dismay. ‘You don’t think Mr Darcy has held a ball in your absence?’
‘A ball in my absence.’ The grand lady clasped her cane in anger. ‘I will certainly have it out with him now.’ She banged the roof of the carriage for the coach to stop. But Mr Jones the first coachman carried on. He had also noticed the baying mob and was convinced that highwaymen, thieves and vagabonds had invaded the grounds. His main priority was to get the ladies back to the safety of the house.
‘I order you to halt!’ Lady Catherine banged the roof a few times before the coach came to a halt. When the coach stopped she flung open the door.
‘Stay inside Milady.’ Mr Jones jumped down from his seat and tried to shut the door. ‘For your own safety.’
‘I will not!’ Lady Catherine asserted pushing the door out.
He looked back at the men fighting and the roaring crowd. ‘We don’t know who we are dealing with.’
‘Please Lady Catherine remain in the carriage,’ Miss Woodward urged. ‘There are violent vagabonds that would gladly steal the jewellery around your neck.’
‘This is my home.’ She alighted from the coach clasping her cane. ‘I shall not cower in my own grounds.’
‘Then let me escort you.’ Mr Dixons the second coachman passed down a shotgun to Mr Jones. ‘If I am armed you will come to no harm.’
‘Very well.’ She turned back to Miss Woodward. ‘You stay in the carriage. Mr Dixons will take you back to the house.’
‘Milady be careful,’ she called as the carriage raced back to the house.
Catherine de Bourgh walked heavily on her cane. She might be stricken in years, but she was not afraid to have it out with the mob. It was an aspect of her character that alarmed the coachman. He stayed close by her side with his shotgun at the ready.
∞∞∞
As Lady Catherine walked through the trees, she was shocked at the sight of couples frolicking on the lawn. She was convinced that Rosings Park had been invaded by a bunch of harlot, plying for trade in her grounds.
She had to put a stop to this debauchery. She banged her cane on a lot of bare bums in the undergrowth, a painful end to thei
r scandalous behaviour.
Chapter 34
Mr Darcy was oblivious to the baying crowd around him. His only thoughts were on the destruction of Mr Wickham. As their brutal fight continued he could see his old adversary was getting tired. It was time to go in for the kill.
Elizabeth watched the fight as Mrs Bennet wept hysterically in the arms of Jane.
As the mob jeered louder for a knock out, Fitzwilliam mustered up all his strength. With a sharp right jab to his jaw, he knocked out George flat on his back.
Fitzwilliam was about to celebrate his triumph when a loud shotgun went off.
‘Mr Darcy,’ Catherine de Bourgh demanded. ‘What on earth is going on?’
Fitzwilliam gasped with surprise. ‘My dear aunt what are you doing here?’ He looked down at Wickham sprawled out on the lawn. ‘I didn’t expect to see you so soon.’
‘I can see that.’ She returned a look of disgust. ‘I arrive back to my house and find couples frolicking in the undergrowth, drunken strangers wandering about..’ Her eyes blazed with fury. ‘And my nephew engaged in an illegal boxing match in a blood splattered shirt.’
‘Please forgive me Aunt.’ Mr Darcy hung his head in shame. ‘I can explain.’
She tossed her head back. ‘Oh you certainly have some explaining to do.’
Elizabeth could see how hurt Fitzwilliam was by her public rebuttal. But became more concerned by the loud taunts of the mob. They began to laugh and mock Lady Catherine much to her fury.
‘How dare you mock me,’ she called out to the jeering crowd. ‘After eating as much free food and drink you can muster.’ She waved her arm. ‘Away with you, back to the hovels you came from.’
‘You heard the lady.’ Mr Jones rang another shot in the air. ‘Leave Rosings Park and never come back.’ The crowd gradually dispersed out of the grounds.
‘And as for you Fitzwilliam,’ Lady Catherine hissed into his face. ‘I want you out of my house by dawn tomorrow.’
