Mr. Darcy's Indiscretions

by Valerie Lennox

  “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling sick to her stomach. “I did not think it through.”

  “You did not,” said her father.

  “I don’t think Mrs. Fortescue’s servants will say anything. They were all distraught over her death. They will not be gossiping over me.”

  “Perhaps not,” said her father. “We can only hope that is the case, and that we somehow escape this. Of course, if you are with child—”

  “No. I’m telling you, that’s impossible,” said Elizabeth.

  “And again, perhaps you ought to speak to your mother about all that.”

  * * *

  When Darcy awoke that morning, his arm was asleep and he was sore from lying halfway off the bed. Miss Bennet was gone, with no word of what had happened to her, but he supposed she’d gone home. After all, they had been about to walk there together if he hadn’t fallen asleep.

  He got out of bed and went to round up all of Mrs. Fortescue’s servants to see to her body and to see to telling her family about her fate. He was not sure if her body might not be transferred to her parents for her final resting place. It would be a matter for family, however.

  He went in to look in on her one last time.

  He held her cold hand and whispered his apologies. He felt as though he had failed her, but he knew, with a sinking sort of sadness, that there was little else he could have done for her. That made him angry, because he felt helpless.

  But he had no power over Mrs. Fortescue’s fate. Life and death were not up to Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  Then he remembered the jewels she had tried to give him. He had barely looked at them before, but now he went to her bedchamber and retrieved them from the drawer. She was right. These were worth a great deal. Why she had not sold them already to fund herself, instead of relying on the ridiculous bequest of her husband’s, he wasn’t sure. Maybe they truly did have sentimental value to her, and she had not yet been pressed to the breaking point, when hunger came up against sentiment.

  Whatever the case, it seemed wretched of him to take them from her. She had been left with nothing in the end. Wickham had seduced her and used her for his own pleasure and then left her on her own, left her to die. And now, Darcy was meant to take this from her, all she had left?

  But he would do it, because it would be enough to buy back Hawthorne Abbey. Which was not only sentiment to him, but someplace to live. Someplace to take his new bride, because after everything that passed between them, there was no question of not marrying her.

  Anyway, he wanted to marry her. He wanted to hold her without feeling as if he was taking something that wasn’t his to take. She wanted him too.

  Yes, he’d take the jewels. For Elizabeth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Elizabeth went to her bedroom, where she expected to be attended by Jane, who would wish to know everything that had transpired. But Jane did not come to the room, and Elizabeth was alone.

  After some time had passed, her mother came into the room, but she was not in any state to speak or to find out the particulars of what had passed between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, as her father had suggested. Elizabeth was glad of that. Though it might be somewhat less horrid to speak to her mother than her father about such things, she didn’t want to speak to anyone but Jane about it.

  She needed her sister.

  She needed to make sense of it all. And Jane had been tempted by Wickham. Jane had been changed by it all as well. Maybe Jane would be able to help.

  But no, she wouldn’t, because Wickham was an awful cad, and he would never have stopped as Mr. Darcy had.

  Oh, Lord, but what did that mean? If Mr. Wickham hadn’t stopped, had Jane been compromised? Surely Jane would have told Elizabeth if that had happened.

  Thus Elizabeth thought as she endeavored to listen to whatever it is her mother was prattling on about.

  “Thank heaven for Mary,” her mother was saying. “Why if it weren’t for her, all would be ruined.”

  Elizabeth did not say anything. She simply stared at her mother.

  “You are an ungrateful, willful girl who never minded me. You have always been overindulged by your father. It is quite amazing that you have even survived this long without befalling some sort of calamity. Indeed, I think all this is a long time coming.”

  “Mother, perhaps you are too excited by all the events this morning,” said Elizabeth.

  “Of course, if it is all visited upon the family, due to your error, I shan’t know what to do with myself. Oh, I only hope it can all be fixed and that we can continue on the way we have been, for I could not bear it else.”

  “Perhaps we ought to focus on Mary,” said Elizabeth. “She is about to be married, after all. Perhaps you ought to be giving her congratulations.”

  “Oh, that’s true,” said her mother. “I must speak to your father about what to do. Mary will need a new gown, perhaps two or three.”

  “Yes, you should definitely be focusing on clothes,” said Elizabeth. “Allow me to escort you back to the drawing room to see to Mary.”

  And so Elizabeth was able to get her mother out of the room. When she returned to her bedchamber, Jane was there.

  “Jane.” Elizabeth ran to her.

  Jane wrapped her arms around her sister. “Oh, Lizzy, darling Lizzy. What has that awful Darcy done to you?”

  “No, it’s not like that.” Elizabeth pulled back. “I wish you didn’t think so badly of him, I truly do. You are the only one I have to confide in. Where have you been?”

  “You will not like the answer to that question.” Jane sat down on the bed.

  “With Wickham?”

  “Let us come to all that later,” said Jane. “You must tell me what happened. How did you come to be with Mr. Darcy last night? Was that argument with me all a ruse to get out of the house and meet him?”

  Elizabeth hung her head. “Yes, I’m afraid it was. But you must understand that he and I had just witnessed Mrs. Fortescue’s death, and I knew I needed to be with him. He needed me, and I needed him.”

  “And then he tricked you into surrendering to him?”

  “No, I did not surrender,” said Elizabeth. “That is…” She sat down on the bed next to her sister. “He kissed me. Rather more than once.”

  “Oh,” said Jane knowingly.

  “I suppose you have let Wickham kiss you?”

  “It is all right,” said Jane. “We are engaged.”

  “Well, I am engaged to Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth.

  “No, you are not,” said Jane.

  “It is going to happen,” said Elizabeth, fingering her skirt. “There is an understanding between us.”

  “And you think he will honor this understanding?” said Jane.

  “Yes, I am sure of it.”

  “Well, then, I think it will all turn out right,” said Jane, smiling at her. “Perhaps your Mr. Darcy is as good as you say he is. I do not like to think ill of anyone if I can.”

  Elizabeth tried to smile back but couldn’t quite manage it. “I know you do not wish to think ill of others, Jane, but your blindness toward Wickham—”

  “Oh, let’s not do it again,” said Jane. “I have heard all you have to say about George. But he has not somehow convinced me to spend the night with him, has he? Of the two of us, which of us is in worse straits?”

  Elizabeth hung her head.

  “Anyway, you needn’t worry,” said Jane. “George and I are going to be married shortly. We are going to Scotland this very night.”

  Elizabeth’s head snapped up. “No!”

  “Yes,” said Jane, a huge grin breaking over her features. “Oh, Lizzy, I wish you could be happy for me. You’re the only one I can share this with.”

  “You can’t elope with him.”

  “I can,” said Jane.

  “He’s lying to you.” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “He’s saying that he will elope with you in order to have his way with you. He won’t marry you, not in the end.”

  “Th
at is not true.”

  “Then why the subterfuge? Why are you stealing away without anyone’s knowledge? Why am I the only one you can tell? Surely you could tell Mama?”

  “We don’t want to wait,” said Jane. “We can’t be bothered with the Banns.”

  “Then a special license,” said Elizabeth.

  “Wickham says it will be so much more romantic to run away together, and I agree. I am going to say that I am going with Miss Bingley and the Hursts to London. They are leaving tonight. But really, I shall go with Wickham, and when we return, we will be married.” Jane let out a little giggle.

  “Jane, why have you gotten so frightfully stupid?”

  “I’m the stupid one? You’re the one who’s just been caught having been away from the house for the entire night!”

  “But I’m not stupid about Mr. Darcy. He’s different.”

  “I don’t think he is. When will he marry you?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it yet. There has not been time.”

  “What did you talk of the length of the entire night you spent with him?”

  “Well, it was very late when I arrived, and then we sort of fell asleep. In between, there was the kissing part.” Elizabeth studied her palms. “But when I told him to stop, he did.”

  Jane’s eyebrows shot up. “Stop? So, then he was attempting—”

  “We both were. It was very confusing.” Elizabeth flopped back on the bed. “I must say, Jane, I didn’t know that there could be such… such large feelings within me. I didn’t know they would be so powerful.”

  Jane was quiet.

  Elizabeth rolled over onto her side and peered up at her.

  “I know what you mean,” Jane said finally. “Perhaps it is all madness with Wickham. I can’t say but that it is. But I can’t put a stop to it either. I don’t know how to fight what I’m feeling. I always thought it would be easy, but then when this part of me woke up, then…”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth. “Yes, it’s all abominable.”

  “It’s not,” said Jane. “I think it is as the apostle Paul says, it is a burning. But it is better to marry than burn, and so I shall marry. And hopefully you will too. If Mr. Darcy has any decency, he will come to visit our father today, and he will make it all official.”

  “Yes,” said Elizabeth. “He is an honorable man. I am sure that’s what he will do.”

  * * *

  Mr. Darcy had never been to Longbourn, so it took him a bit of time to find it, and when he was coming upon the place, he happened upon Mr. Wickham, who was walking along the road toward Netherfield.

  Wickham waved at him. His nose was badly bruised, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Looking for me, Darcy?” he called out goodnaturedly. “Ready to challenge me to that duel or do you fancy another attempted drowning? You really have lost your mind as of late, haven’t you?”

  Darcy glowered at him. “I’ve not come to speak to you at all. I’m going to Longbourn.”

  “Oh, really? Just come from there,” said Wickham. “Why would you be going?”

  “That’s really none of your affair,” said Darcy.

  “I doubt anyone is in any mood to receive you is all,” said Wickham. “They are celebrating their daughter’s impending nuptials.”

  “What? To you? Are you really going to marry Miss Bennet?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” said Wickham. “Perhaps I am. Perhaps her goodness has inspired me to change my ways.” He threw back his head and laughed.

  “Well, I shall bring cause for more celebration, then,” said Darcy.

  “What?” said Wickham. “You’re not going to try to ask for the hand of Miss Elizabeth, are you?”

  “As I said, it’s none of your affair.”

  “Well, you’re a bit late,” said Wickham.

  “What?”

  “Yes, Miss Elizabeth is engaged to Mr. Collins.”

  Darcy’s body went rigid. “What are you saying?”

  “You must have seen them at the ball last night,” said Wickham. “He danced with her twice. He followed her about until she disappeared. He is the man on whom the estate is entailed. Quite obviously, he would wish to marry one of the Bennet daughters.”

  “Miss Elizabeth would never agree to marry him,” said Darcy.

  “I don’t think she had much choice,” said Wickham. “After coming home in the morning light, bedraggled and ruined, there would be talk if she weren’t hastily married off.”

  Darcy’s mouth was dry. How could he have fallen asleep? Indeed, how could he have allowed her to tarry any amount of time at all with him last night? The liberties he’d taken with her… He was ashamed of himself.

  But why would she agreed to marry another man? She was his, damn it, his.

  Darcy had no recollection of Mr. Collins himself, except for the time he had seen him in Meryton, when he’d been introduced to the Bennet sisters. Collins had been quiet, so he had never conversed with the man. He was a very… wide sort of man. He could not think that Elizabeth would prefer Collins to him.

  As for the family pressure, certainly once he had offered for her hand, it would dissipate.

  Of course, perhaps not. The estate was entailed on Collins, after all. Mrs. Bennet was in a precarious position, as were her younger daughters. They must keep up good relations with him.

  What to do, then?

  Wickham laughed. He clapped Darcy on the shoulder. “You’d best turn around.”

  “No, I won’t,” said Darcy. “I’ll go and see her. Women are allowed to change their minds. She can get out of the engagement.” Of course, might that not anger Collins, being jilted so?

  “She might, I suppose,” said Wickham. “But why would she choose you? You are practically penniless.”

  “I am not,” said Darcy. “If you were in my position, perhaps you would not have found any way to save anything. Money seems to flow through your fingers like water. But I am not you, and I—”

  “Oh, spare me your lectures, Darcy,” said Wickham. “The point is, you have no land. You have no way to support a wife.”

  “I will have land.”

  “When your father dies, yes, and that could be years and years,” said Wickham.

  No, I will have land sooner, thought Darcy. He would use the jewels and have Hawthorne Abbey back. And then he would have an estate, and an income, and a place for his wife to live. He had intended to go and secure Elizabeth’s hand and then go off to see about the estate.

  But perhaps it made better sense to do it the other way round. Coming to Elizabeth’s father with something to assure him of his ability to take care of his daughter, that would be more reassuring.

  Yes, that surely made better sense.

  Decided, he turned on his heel and walked the opposite direction.

  “Good choice, old chap!” crowed Wickham. “Best leave it all be.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The day wore on, and there was no sign of Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth watched for him from the window for hours, and he did not appear.

  She could not understand this.

  As the afternoon wore on, she thought over and over of what he had said to her when they had been in each other’s arms. He had said he was no better than Wickham. She had argued with him, but what if it had been a confession?

  She knew that Wickham had been the one to hurt Mrs. Fortescue, and she was assured of his bad character, but she had only assumed Mr. Darcy’s character was good because he did not like Wickham. She had only his word for the story he’d told about Wickham.

  What if it was all lies? What if Mr. Darcy had been a gambler? What if he had destroyed himself with no help from Wickham? What if he was a horrible man, and what if he had deceived her?

  But no, he had not attempted to charm her, not in the beginning. He’d been downright rude. Did that mean he was genuine, or that she was simply the most easily won-over woman in the history of the world?

  Something must be keeping him, she thou
ght. There must be some reason why he had not come.

  But then, Jane came into the room and told her that she’d gotten a note from Wickham, hand delivered by a servant, and that he wished to convey his condolences. He had spoken to Mr. Darcy and had confirmed Darcy had no intention of coming to offer for Elizabeth’s hand.

  “Oh, Lizzy, how awful!” Jane said. “That a man could do such a thing!”

  Elizabeth drew herself up. A match had been lit inside her. “Wickham is lying.”

  “Why would he do that? He knows how much pain it will cause you.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort, but she found she had nothing to say. She could well believe that Wickham would lie to cause Mr. Darcy pain, but what did he care about Elizabeth? He had no real reason to hurt her. Perhaps he was the sort of man who simply enjoyed causing pain.

  Or perhaps it was true, and Mr. Darcy wasn’t coming.

  She could hardly accept that. She knew Mr. Darcy, and she didn’t want to give up hope.

  But the fire that was raging in her wasn’t a fire of hope. No, it was a fire of rage, and it was lit against Wickham.

  She could not make Mr. Darcy come and claim her hand, but she could save poor Jane from that monster.

  Elizabeth left her bedchamber and went again to her father’s study.

  “I’m sorry, Lizzy,” said her father. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to see you.”

  “Jane is going to elope with Wickham tonight,” said Elizabeth.

  Her father raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  “You have to stop her. Don’t let her out of your sight. She can’t be with that man.”

  “Why would the two of them elope?” said her father. “Wickham is assured of my blessing if he comes to me.”

  “Well, I suppose I misspoke. Wickham has told Jane that they are going to elope, but I don’t think he has any intention of marrying her.”

  “Elizabeth, simply because you fell for a man who treated you badly, that does not mean all men are the same way. There are good men in the world.”