by Anna Harlow
“Goodness,” said Elizabeth to herself. “I feel quite sorry for Mr. Bingley, that he must be accompanied by such a sister and endure the strange antics of such a friend. It’s a wonder that he managed to come into the country at all with so much apparent opposition.”
“Miss Bennet?” said Mr. Darcy from somewhere behind her. When she turned, he bowed to her. “Will you forgive my earlier reticence, and consent to a dance?”
“Forgive me, sir, I am…overtired at the moment,” she replied coolly.
“Then might I bring you some refreshment and sit with you a while?” he offered. “I should like to extend the olive branch, if you will forgive my poor humor. I do not perform well to strangers.”
“Very well,” she agreed. “I could use some lemonade.”
“I shall return with it shortly, my dear.”
Chapter Six
“Bingley, are you certain you must invite half the neighborhood to your very first dinner party at Netherfield?” Darcy complained when he heard the list of families who would be passing through the door that evening. “The Lucases, the Kings, the Bennets, and the Risings?”
“It is but four families, sir, and we can certainly accommodate them,” Bingley defended himself. “And you know, several of the young women will be bringing their beaux, so we should have a well-rounded table. Besides, it was mostly Caroline’s idea. She has said that she cannot be happy about keeping house in the middle of the country unless some semblance of society will still be made available to her. If she had her way, it would not be just the four families, it would be all four and twenty.”
“That does sound very much like something Caroline would try,” Darcy had to agree.
“I heard that, Mr. Darcy,” Caroline scolded him from across the room. “Though it is perhaps wise to inform you, sir, that there is a certain member coming along with Mary King that you may wish to know about. A gentleman of your acquaintance that I believe you dislike greatly.”
“I can think of only one gentleman I truly dislike,” said Mr. Darcy. “Never tell me that Mary King has somehow allied herself with Mr. George Wickham.”
“She has, indeed, sir,” Caroline said, smiling evilly. “They are engaged to be married.”
“And what is the expected dowry of Miss King to be?” Darcy sneered.
“Ten thousand pounds, sir,” she supplied. “For she is an only child.”
“Yes, well, I hardly see why you are telling me. Certainly it is no business of mine if Miss King wishes to believe in the love of a fortune hunter. Perhaps she will yet come to the realization of his false promises before it is too late. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should like to change into my evening attire before the guests arrive.”
“Is there a particular young lady you are dressing for this evening, Mr. Darcy?” asked Caroline, her smirk shifting to one of mischief now that the bulk of her needling had clearly hit its mark.
“I should think not,” he commented circumspectly. Yet the face of Miss Elizabeth Bennet came very clearly into his vision even as he denied it.
Though she had, for some reason of her own, refused to dance with him at the assembly ball, they had spent a little time talking together there. He now knew that she was an avid reader, as well as a great walker. Two things he also loved. But that hardly meant he would dress for a large dinner party with only her in mind. Of course it did not!
Harriet Rising was a particular friend to Lydia Bennet, apparently, and she had also brought along her fiancé, Colonel Forster, to whom she would shortly be married. It seemed that Mr. Wickham, the gentleman Darcy disdained, was one of seven particular officers the Colonel had brought along with him from Brighton for the sole purpose of collecting his bride. As the King family had been invited to dine, naturally, Miss King was in a position to bring her fiancé to the party, subjecting everyone to his presence.
All of this Darcy might have ignored, except for two very important things. Firstly, that Caroline had seated Miss Mary King beside him at the table. And second, she had placed Wickham next to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Seeing that Caroline had purposefully set such a hateful man next to his favorite brought home two things to Darcy—Caroline knew full well that Elizabeth Bennet was his favorite, and she knew full well that he would be unable to allow Mary King to remain uninformed about that rakehell, Wickham, and his desire for her money. And now, she simply sat back smirking as she waited for the drama to unfold.
“Oh, Mr. Bennet, I shall long for my friend every day as I am settling in if you do not send her to Brighton with me,” Harriet once again complained. “Can you not allow her to visit just one month, at least? I should be so very grateful for any time you might spare her.”
“A dinner party is hardly the place to make such plans, Miss Rising,” said Mr. Bennet firmly. “First, I shall certainly need to speak with your Colonel, to make sure my daughter Lydia will be properly cared for.”
“Sir, I shall see to that myself,” Harriet insisted. “For I will be a married lady when she arrives, and my future husband is the most honorable man alive. He would care for her just as he would care for his own daughter, sir.”
“I should still prefer to speak to Colonel Forster in private,” he insisted. “I shall hear no more about the subject tonight.”
Wickham, whose eyes briefly trailed over to Mr. Darcy and his future bride, then smiled and said, “That is a wise choice, Mr. Bennet. Tonight, we are here to make merry and dine on a most exquisite meal. And with such pleasant company at table, I, for one, hope to accomplish the goal with equanimity.”
He then raised his glass at such a prospect, to which the others responded by doing the same, saying, “To an enjoyable night!”
Darcy was by no means taken in by the gentleman’s amiable nature, and Mary King noticed the slight. “Sir, do you not care for my fiancé? You two do seem to glare at one another whenever you get the chance. Obviously, you share a particular dislike, and I do not believe for a moment that my Wickham is simply being jealous on my account.”
“He very well might be, since he perceives a threat to his potential money,” Darcy scoffed disdainfully. “There can only be one true motive in a man like George Wickham, and that is the cash you are about to provide.”
“Sir, what a scandalous thing to say!” she gasped, then lowered her voice as she asked, “And on what, exactly, do you base such an accusation?”
“Mr. Wickham is the son of my father’s late steward, Miss King,” Darcy explained. “We were raised together as boys, and my father loved him so well he had him educated and even paid for him to go to Cambridge. He had hoped he would enter the church as a profession, but Wickham was far too dissolute by the time we graduated to do anything of the sort. He is a gambler and a rogue, and goes through money the same way some people go through clothes. And, my dear, he goes through young women even faster than that. So, I say again, if he truly intends to marry you, it is only to momentarily gain your wealth. There is no true affection there, to be sure.”
Mary scoffed. “What do you know of it, sir? You have not seen us together. Perhaps he has changed since you last saw him. For he has certainly treated me like a queen.”
“Those must be words the gentleman uses specifically,” Darcy replied. “For when I told my own sister about the gentleman’s perfidy, she said the very same thing.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “Truly?”
“Aye, indeed,” Darcy persisted, seeing that he had finally managed to make the girl listen. “But you do not have to take my word for it, my dear. Only watch how he is eyeing Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You, he might well marry, but that will not stop him from all his seductions.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” she scoffed, giggling. “But she’s such a mousy little thing. No color to her cheeks, and no smile either. What could he see in such a girl?”
“I dare say he must be telling Miss Bennet some fabrication of a story about me, since she must have also noticed our animosity. For it is too great to be conceale
d, do you not think?”
“And what are you, sir? A self-appointed protector of young girls?” she asked curiously. “It seems you’ve made it your mission to protect me, but also intend to warn off Miss Elizabeth in short order. What a noble gentleman you must be.”
“I do not think of myself in such a way,” said Darcy, smiling humorlessly. “But this is not a conversation we should be having at the table, do you not think? I should not wish it to be overheard.”
“Quite right, Mr. Darcy,” she agreed.
∞∞∞
For the tenth time in as many minutes, Mr. Darcy’s eyes fell upon Mr. Wickham, and then upon Elizabeth herself as a consequence. Why must she be seated by the one man in the room that the moody gentleman appeared to hate? It left Elizabeth quite clearly in the path of his malice, and she did not like to see the frown on his handsome face.
“I see that you have noticed, Miss Bennet, that Darcy and I are not the best of friends,” said Wickham presently. “I cannot like him sitting by Mary, for he is certain to fill her head with censure where I am concerned. It is not a casual dislike, my dear. We are enemies—rivals, after a fashion. You see, when my own excellent father died, I became like a second son to his. Jealousy is his motivation, for in the end we were both present at the old man’s death, and on his last breath Mr. Darcy bequeathed to me a rectory on his estate. Yet, when it came time for him to give it to me, Darcy refused and sent me away. Because of him, I was forced to purchase a commission in the army and make my living in the military rather than the church as I had planned.”
“Is this true, sir?” Elizabeth gasped. “Why would Mr. Darcy withhold your inheritance from you? Why did you not go to the authorities and demand your living? If he has indeed worked such an evil upon you, he ought to be exposed for it.”
“Perhaps someday he will be, but it will not be because of me,” Wickham insisted. “For out of love and respect for the father, I cannot expose the son to ridicule. I shall simply remain in my present state and bear it as best I can. Though I am quite sure that marriage to the fair Mary King shall make that forbearance much easier, do you not agree?”
“I know little about Mary King. The King family has been in Meryton but three years, and we do not often visit one another.”
“Well, it is certain that I will need to exert some damage control now that she has been sitting with Darcy,” he complained. “A more venomous man I have never seen. When he gets through with her, Mary is sure to hate me.”
Elizabeth caught yet another of Darcy’s glares toward Wickham, but as their own eyes met and held, she perceived a great softening. For all that he disliked her dinner partner, it was obvious he held her in much higher esteem. But after what she had just heard, and his antics at the ball the other day, she was quite sure she wanted nothing more to do with his mercurial disposition. She vowed that she would avoid him as much as she could, since she preferred her melodramas to be found inside of books, rather than in her own world.
Chapter Seven
Mr. Bingley held a ball about two weeks later, which corresponded with the last few days of Mr. Collins’ visit to Longbourn, and subsequently the impending wedding of Miss Catherine Bennet to the gentleman before the departure. So, as they prepared to go, Mrs. Bennet was all aflutter about wedding clothes and finally having a married daughter, and how she intended to make sure that Lady Lucas understood that she had accomplished the deed before her friend.
“Mama, it never ceases to amaze me how important it is to you two ladies that your daughters should find husbands,” Elizabeth complained. “Should you not be more concerned about our happiness than our married state?”
“My dear Lizzy, if you should find the right gentlemen, it is certain that your happiness and your married state will amount to the same thing,” she replied, smiling. “For if you should find a rich and handsome young man willing to marry you, it is certain that he would make you quite happy indeed. Do you not think so, Jane? I noticed that your Mr. Bingley has been putting quite a smile on your face these last few weeks.”
“He’s not my Mr. Bingley,” Jane protested.
“No? But he very soon could be, my dear, if you play your cards right,” she insisted. “And what happiness will flow then? I should think you would be well pleased to catch such a gentleman, and so very near our own estate, too! Oh, to have my girl married and yet still close to home! It will be much preferred over Kitty’s situation, being so very far away.”
“Mama, sixty miles is hardly so far you could not visit her,” Elizabeth scoffed.
“It might as well be six hundred miles, with the price of getting there so high,” her mother complained. “I doubt very much I shall be able to visit her at all.”
“I will certainly write to you when I am able, Mama,” Kitty told her. “There is no reason to cry.”
“I have not realized until just now, Kitty,” she said, dabbing at her eyes. “Once you are married, you shall no longer live with me, and I shall be obliged to find ways to visit you. Oh, it is not to be borne, to know that such shall happen with all of my girls!”
“Then perhaps, ma’am, you shall be obliged to stop trying quite so hard to find us husbands?” Elizabeth teased her.
“Bite your tongue, Lizzy!” she exclaimed. “Of course I must see to each and every one of your futures! What kind of a mother would I be if I should fail in that duty?”
“Mama!” Elizabeth protested. “You are so odd.”
When the Bennets arrived at the ball, the dancing had already begun, which was exactly as their mother had planned. Bingley, his sisters, Mr. Hurst, and Mr. Darcy were still waiting for the last of the guests to arrive in a greeting line, and when Bingley spotted Jane, his eyes instantly lit up with a happy interest.
“Good evening, Mr. Bingley,” said Jane, smiling. “This room is amazing, sir. I believe you have completely outdone yourself.”
“Wait until you see the ballroom,” he said, smiling. “You will save some dances for me, won’t you, Miss Jane?”
“Of course I will, sir,” she agreed, smiling.
Charlotte caught up with Elizabeth almost immediately, since she had been waiting for her to arrive. “Lizzy! I have such news! Come along with me before you join in the dancing.”
“Goodness, Charlotte, what has you so excited to speak?” asked Elizabeth curiously as she hurried with her toward one of the open doorways.
“You remember telling me what poor Mr. Wickham said to you about Mr. Darcy failing to give him his inheritance, and how Darcy would try to poison Miss King against him? Well, his prediction has come true, it seems. Miss King has indeed cried off from the intended wedding, and she has gone off to Brighton to be with her aunt and uncle. It is impossible to know if Mr. Darcy had any influence over such a decision, of course, but isn’t it interesting?”
“Yes, it is indeed. But it is not at all difficult to discern what has happened. Surely whatever was said to Mary King about her fiancé has frightened her off from him. I cannot know what Mr. Darcy must have said to her, but such an action seems abominably cruel. No, Charlotte, I am quite convinced that Mr. Darcy is somebody that I should not wish to know.”
“But, Lizzy, think about what you are saying,” Charlotte insisted. “Mr. Darcy is a man of ten times the consequence of Mr. Wickham, not to mention that we cannot know on such short acquaintance which of the two men is actually the villain in the story. How do we know that whatever news Mr. Darcy may have imparted to Miss King was not the absolute truth? You may be condemning the poor man when you should be applauding his efforts.”
“Forgive me, Charlotte, but one knows exactly what to think,” Elizabeth scoffed. “Mr. Darcy treated Mr. Wickham quite cruelly by never giving him his due, and now he thinks to do even worse by never allowing the poor gentleman to find any happiness at all. How shall I not scorn such a gentleman.”
“Well, Bingley invited all eight officers here tonight, so maybe you should look for Mr. Wickham and see if you can d
iscover more about the situation for yourself.”
“Perhaps so,” said Elizabeth, and then the two of them stepped out into the hallway, intent on entering the ballroom proper. But who should they happen to run into immediately other than Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth’s determined smile fell away from her face as he stepped forward.
“I have been looking for you, Miss Bennet,” he told her, bowing slightly. “Would you do me the honor of standing up with me for the next dance?”
“I…” began Elizabeth, hesitating. She racked her brain but could find no answer to give him that sounded reasonable for her to cry off. Finally, she simply said, “I will.”
“Very well,” he said with a bow and a smile. “I shall meet you inside shortly.”
And with that, he disappeared. Elizabeth’s mouth fell open in consternation. “Dammit, Charlotte, did I just agree to dance with Mr. Darcy?”
