Mr. Darcy's Indiscretions

by Valerie Lennox

She furrowed her brow. Why was he changing the subject? But when it came down to it, she was curious. “Why did you duel with him?”

  “He used my sister badly,” said Darcy, grimacing. “She was only fifteen years old. She knew nothing of… of anything. He convinced her to surrender her virtue and then told her they must elope. I caught wind of the elopement and I stopped it.” He laughed, then, a bitter laugh. “I took her home and patted myself on the back for having saved her. And she never admitted to me what had passed between her and Wickham. How could she? She didn’t even know what it was that he had done. When I came back months later, she was already increasing. Too far along to marry him. Too far along to…”

  Elizabeth licked her lips. “What happened between us is not the same. I was not… I knew what I wanted.”

  “Oh, you did?” He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  She looked away.

  “I was angry with her. I called her dreadful names. She ran from me. She said she was going to take her horse from the stables and ride until she found Wickham, who would be kind to her in the way that I wasn’t. But the horse tripped over a stone. She was thrown… I suppose you heard the rest.”

  Elizabeth reached for him, putting her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  He turned to gaze into her eyes. “It was my fault she left. My fault she died.”

  “No, it was an accident.”

  He was quiet.

  She patted his arm, and then she drew her hand back. Why was she touching him? “What would you have done if I had been with child?”

  “There’s nothing I could have done,” he said.

  She nodded. “Right. Nothing.”

  “I put a bullet in the throat of George Wickham because of what he did to my sister, but I am the same as that villain. In the end, I am worse than him, because I killed Georgiana, and I took advantage of you, and I nearly destroyed you.”

  She licked her lips. Nothing he could have done? Truly? So, he would never have married her or even allowed her to sail on this ship with him as his mistress or anything of that nature. There was something wrong with her. “Please tell me what fault you find with me. What is it within me that is poorly made?”

  He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what you’re speaking of, Miss Bennet. There is no fault with you. The fault is with me. You were an innocent. I was the one who took advantage of you. You would have borne the brunt of the consequences if you had conceived, but you have been spared that, somehow. And now you can go back home, and you can find a husband.”

  “Find a husband?” Her lips parted in disbelief. It was as if he had never heard anything she had ever said on this subject.

  “I know that you’re no longer a maiden, but no one will know that unless you tell them. You didn’t have a maidenhead for me to break anyway, which is no matter. Lots of women break them doing all manner of things, like horseback riding. And so no one will be suspicious. Lie about your time here, say that you were chaperoned, and you will still be able to make a good match.”

  “No, I don’t think I will,” she said. “And you know very well that I won’t.”

  “I know you’ve been unlucky before, but you’ll be back from an adventure, and you’ll be exotic and exciting and the men will—”

  “There is a fault with me,” she said. “You know it, you must, that is why you rejected me.”

  “Rejected you?’

  “Avoided me for these three weeks.”

  “It was for your safety I stayed away. You must not think that it is easy to be in your presence, Miss Bennet. Even now, I see you, and I think of what passed between us, and I want you. I know that I must not give in to that, because we could not possibly tempt fate again. If I had you over and over again, there would be a child, and everything would be ruined.”

  She swallowed. She had not thought of it that way. But she couldn’t help but feel herself surge at the idea of him having her over and over. She even liked the sound of it—being had. She bit down on her lip. “But if you want me, and there is nothing wrong with me—”

  “I believe I have made myself plain.”

  She toyed with the fabric of her skirt. “All right then. Well, I suppose I shall go, then. But you must realize that no one in England is going to marry me. I have been through years of balls, and I have been to India, and you are the only man who has ever seemed the slightest bit interested—”

  “That is ridiculous.” He stroked her cheek. “You are quite lovely. You are perfect.”

  She thought she was going to cry.

  “There will be a man. You will have a husband.”

  “But it won’t be you.” Her voice cracked.

  He dropped his hand, a funny look coming over his face. “Why would you say such a thing? I am here on this ship, smuggling opium, living as a pirate. I can’t get married.”

  “You said that when you had gotten your fortune, you would come back to England, and then you would have to get married.”

  “It could be five years, Miss Bennet. Seven years. I don’t know. I would not ask you to wait that long for me.”

  She looked down at her hands. “By that time, I would be too old and you would not be interested.”

  He sputtered. “I killed people. You were disgusted with me. I took advantage of you. I took your virtue. Why would you want to be with someone like me?”

  “I don’t know,” she said in a small voice. “When you put it like that, you make me sound like an idiot. But I only know that when I think of the future, and you are not in it anymore, it makes me feel like I’m drowning in murky water.”

  “Don’t be melodramatic.”

  “I am in love with you.”

  “No, you are a young girl who has never had anyone pay attention to you, and I’ve turned your head, because you don’t know what you are worth.” He leaned closer. “You must find someone better than me. You deserve someone better than me.”

  Her eyes were filling with tears.

  “You don’t love me.” He laughed a little. “I am so sorry, Miss Bennet. I have made such a mess of you. I…” He massaged the bridge of his nose.

  She was going to start crying soon, really crying. She needed to get away, because she had embarrassed herself. She had never heard of a courtship that went this way. Why, it was unheard of for a woman to declare her love so. It was unseemly and idiotic, and that’s what she was. But she couldn’t go yet. Not yet. “Let me stay, then,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Let me stay on the ship,” she said. “You don’t have to marry me. We could just… what you said about having me over and over, I—”

  “Stop it,” he choked.

  She was making an ass of herself, but she didn’t care. “Don’t send me away. I don’t think I could bear it.”

  He wrapped his arms around her suddenly, pressing his mouth against her temple. “I can’t do that.” His mouth on her cheekbone. “This is all my fault, what you are feeling.” His mouth on her jaw. “You need to be away from me.” His mouth on her neck. “I won’t cause you any more pain.”

  She clung to him, sighing.

  But then, abruptly, he pushed her away, holding her at arm’s length. “I’m sorry,” he said again. And he pushed her out of his cabin and shut the door in her face.

  She stood there, feeling numb, feeling destroyed.

  And then, broken, dejected, she went back to her room. But once there, she found she didn’t even have the strength to cry about it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Elizabeth was standing in the middle of the docks of Bombay, her trunk next to her. Mackie had carried it off the ship earlier, when he escorted her off. She could still see the ship in the harbor, but she was alone now. She had simply been left in the middle of the docks. She didn’t speak the local language, and it was all she heard.

  She watched the turbaned men go by her, speaking rapidly, towing cargo to and from the ships.

  She was frightened.

  Af
ter everything that had happened, she was going to end up being raped and robbed and left for dead here on this dock. How could Darcy dare to say that she would make it back to England and be in any shape to go looking for a husband?

  She looked one way and then the other. She supposed she should start walking, but she couldn’t even carry her trunk. It was too heavy. She would have to leave it, she supposed. But she couldn’t bring herself to walk out of sight of the ship. She was feeling something that was very akin to despair, and she didn’t know how she was supposed to keep on as if everything was normal.

  Not that there was anything normal about being alone on a dock in Bombay, that was for sure.

  And then, off in the distance, coming through the throng of people, she saw him.

  Her heart stopped. Darcy was coming for her after all. She could see him striding forward, a determined look on his face.

  She sought out his gaze, and he locked eyes with her.

  Her heart began to beat again, but it was going wildly, faster and faster in excitement.

  He’d changed his mind. He was going to let her stay with him on the ship after all. He cared about her too, and she had been worried about nothing. Now, everything would be okay, because as long as she was with him, how could anything be wrong?

  She almost ran for him, arms out, wanting to rush into an embrace.

  But she was too overcome to move, and she just stood there, feeling grateful, feeling glad, feeling relieved.

  In a few moments, he was right in front of her.

  She reached out her hand for him.

  He didn’t seem to notice. “Miss Bennet,” he said, sounding faintly out of breath, “may I present Mr. Bedford?”

  Mr. Bedford tipped his hat. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss.”

  She would have noticed the other man walking with Darcy if she’d had sense of anything besides him. But she had only watched him. She hadn’t realized he wasn’t coming for her alone.

  “Mr. Bedford has consented to give you passage on his ship,” said Darcy.

  She let her hand drop to her side.

  “Yes,” said Mr. Bedford. “This gentleman here has paid your fare back to England.”

  Darcy looked annoyed. “Look, man, I told you not to bring up that any money had changed hands.” He turned to Elizabeth. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. He’s got other passengers, a husband and wife. The husband is a quite respectable tradesman, so it will all be very proper, and you won’t be uncomfortable.”

  She should thank him, she supposed. He had parted with money for her, and she knew he was saving it all up for his estate. She opened her mouth to do it, but the words died on her tongue. The truth was, she was deeply disappointed. She had thought…

  But why had she been so utterly stupid?

  “You’ll get her trunk?” said Darcy to Mr. Bedford. “I’ll escort Miss Bennet to where she can board your ship.”

  “Of course,” said Mr. Bedford, tipping his hat again. He nodded behind him, and two other men came to collect Elizabeth’s trunk. They went off together, and Mr. Bedford followed after them.

  Darcy looked at her. “I wanted to say…”

  She waited, still reeling from the fact that he had not chosen her. He didn’t say anything. She squared her shoulders, collecting herself. “Well, perhaps we should get to the ship, then?”

  He caught her by both shoulders. “I want you to forget about me.”

  She smiled bitterly. “I shall surely try, sir.”

  “I think you are holding yourself back. You have some silly idea in your head that you’re not desirable and that you won’t find a husband, but it’s not true, and you’re settling on something like me, because you don’t think you could do any better, but you could. And I just want you to stop thinking that—” He let go of her, looking down at the ground. “Try to be happy, Miss Bennet. And if I’ve caused you too much pain, I sincerely apologize.”

  She was still smiling, and the expression felt odd on her face, but she couldn’t seem to stop it.

  He scuffed his boot against the ground.

  She drew in a shaky breath, and forced her smile even wider. “The ship is this way?”

  Try to be happy? Did he have any notion of how impossible it was for her to feel anything resembling that emotion?

  * * *

  “I’d be happy to share my maid, of course,” said Mrs. Ellsworth, a bubbly woman a few years younger than Elizabeth.

  “Thank you,” mumbled Elizabeth, staring around at the cabin that was to be hers. It was quite a bit bigger than the room she had occupied for the past several months, and it even had a window and a proper bed. Yet, she still found herself feeling as if she had been dislodged from her home. This place didn’t seem nearly as welcoming as that dark onion-scented space.

  “Oh, it’s no trouble,” said Mrs. Ellsworth. “After all, you must be lost without one. I can’t even imagine it, the horrible ordeal you’ve been through.”

  “Yes,” said Elizabeth absently.

  “Was it horrible? Being on a sinking ship? Watching everyone else drown? Mr. Ellsworth heard the whole story and he told me that Mr. Anglers found you clinging to the broken mast, your skirts drenched.”

  “Mr. Anglers?”

  “The captain of the ship that rescued you. I have got his name right, haven’t I?”

  Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile. Trust Darcy to never use his real name. So, that was the story he’d spun for her, was it? Instead of being captured by pirates, she’d been rescued from death. He certainly had cast himself as the hero. “Oh, indeed,” she said. “I always called him Captain, like the others on the ship. It wasn’t so bad. I read all the sailors Robinson Crusoe and Gulliver’s Travels.”

  “You didn’t.” Mrs. Ellsworth was shocked.

  “I did.” She felt morose, thinking of Patrick Horn, who she’d left stumbling over pronouncing the big words. What would the men do without her?

  “You are very brave.”

  Elizabeth shrugged.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Mrs. Ellsworth continued. “After all, I thought that I would be the only woman on board besides Marianna, my maid, and I didn’t know what I was going to do. The only time I was on a ship was coming to India. I came to find a husband, and then I met Mr. Ellsworth, and now everything is quite lovely. But on that ship, there were lots of other women. How did you end up here?”

  “Same as you,” said Elizabeth. “Only I didn’t find a husband.”

  “Oh,” said Mrs. Ellsworth, looking at her with pity. “I’m so sorry.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. She didn’t want this woman’s pity. “I find I’m quite exhausted. I think I just want to lie down.”

  “Oh, of course.” Mrs. Ellsworth stood up. “I’m sorry. Here I’ve been, going on and on.” She started for the door. “Oh, shall I send Marianna to you in an hour or so? We’re going to dress for dinner, even out here. I think it’s good to keep ourselves as civilized as possible.”

  Elizabeth wanted to cry off dinner entirely, possibly forever. “I’m not sure I’ll feel up to it.”

  “You must eat, Miss Bennet. If you don’t keep your strength up, you’ll never endure the journey.”

  Elizabeth smiled grimly, a perverse thought crossing her brain. If she wasted away and died at sea, when Darcy found out that he’d caused the death of yet another—

  She shook herself. What was she thinking? She didn’t want to die just to get back at Darcy. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She stood up. “You’re right, of course. Send her in an hour. And I’m actually feeling much better. I think it was just the change of scenery. I don’t think I will lie down, and you shouldn’t feel as if I’m chasing you out.”

  “Truly?” Mrs. Ellsworth brightened.

  Elizabeth smiled. “Truly.”

  “Well, will you tell us all about being on the sinking ship?”

  “Certainly,” said Elizabeth, sitting down on her bed and patting a space for Mrs. Ellswort
h.

  Mrs. Ellsworth sat down. “Was it dreadful?”

  “It was positively dreadful. I was frightened and splashing about in the water, barely keeping my head above water, and one of the sailors was floating with the broken mast. He forced me to take it instead. He swam next to me for some time, but eventually, he tired.”

  “Oh, no.” Mrs. Ellsworth’s eyes were the size of saucers.

  Elizabeth found herself enjoying this. Maybe this was why Darcy did the swindling that he did. She thought she understood the allure. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Just before he let himself sink down beneath the waves, he told me of his sweetheart, a woman named Rose, who he was sure had married another man since he’d gone to sea. But he said that if I should find her in his hometown, still unwed, I should tell her to stop waiting for him.”

  Mrs. Ellsworth clutched her heart. “That’s so tragic.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Very tragic indeed.” She smiled inwardly. She was going to be all right. She didn’t think that she would actually be able to forget Darcy. That was impossible. But maybe she could try to be happy. Maybe.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  five years later…

  Elizabeth tore furiously through the rooms at the Edmonson party, fuming to herself, wishing for the tenth time that she’d managed to convince her sister Jane’s husband, Mr. Bingley, it would be better if she stayed home with little Alice and David, her niece and nephew, instead of coming out to this stupid event.

  Where the devil could that Nancy be?

  Nancy Fairchild was Mr. Bingley’s ward. Her own parents had been killed in an awful fire, and then Nancy had come to live with Mr. Bingley and Jane. It was Nancy’s first season, and she was proving utterly incorrigible. When Elizabeth had arrived back in England five years ago, Nancy had only been twelve, just a sweet little girl who was eager to improve her French. But now, at seventeen, the girl was a hellion. Elizabeth was supposed to be her chaperone, supposed to keep her from getting into scrapes, but Nancy insisted on giving her the slip whenever she could.

  Elizabeth had been forced to go searching for her at least three times at this party alone. Now, she was starting to get worried, because she hadn’t seen her anywhere.