Pledged to Mr Darcy

by Valerie Lennox

  They all went out the next morning to see them off, and Georgiana whispered to Elizabeth that she was pleased that they were leaving.

  It was the first thing that Georgiana had said voluntarily to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth was pleased. She did want to have a good relationship with Mr. Darcy’s little sister, but Georgiana was so, so quiet.

  After Lady Catherine had gone, Darcy asked Elizabeth if she would like to go riding with him, and she answered in the affirmative. They made plans for the following afternoon.

  But that day, a letter arrived for Mr. Darcy about some of his investments, and he felt obliged to leave and go to make sure that things were going smoothly. He said that they would ride horses when he came back, and she said she was looking forward to it.

  They saw him off the next morning.

  Georgiana cried. She accepted comfort from Elizabeth, who patted her on the arm and made soothing noises. In moments, Georgiana had thrown herself into Elizabeth’s arms where she sobbed with abandon. Elizabeth held Georgiana and watched Mr. Darcy’s carriage grow smaller on the horizon, and she felt rather deflated herself. She would miss him, she realized.

  Georgiana pulled back, sniffling. “He’s always leaving me. He says I could come with him, but I hate leaving home. I despise people and crowds and traveling, so I stay, but I am all alone.”

  Elizabeth patted the top of her head. “Oh, that is dreadful.” Internally, she was trying to wonder how one could hate people and also be lonely, but she wanted to be friends with Georgiana.

  “But you’re here now,” said Georgiana, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. “Perhaps we shall become good friends.”

  “I think we shall,” said Elizabeth. “I should very much like that. In fact, I was meant to go riding with your brother today, but now he is gone. Perhaps you would like go riding with me instead?”

  “Oh, that does sound lovely,” said Georgiana. “Yes, I should like that.”

  The plans were made for the following day.

  And that evening at dinner, it was just the two of them and Miss Thackerey, but Georgiana was not quiet the entire time. She shared her opinion on the food and the books they were discussing.

  Elizabeth missed Mr. Darcy, but she felt as though she were making progress with his sister, and that was a good thing.

  * * *

  The next day, Elizabeth met Georgiana at the stables, wearing a riding habit that Martha had found for Elizabeth. She told her that it had once belonged to a governess of Georgiana’s, one who had been sent packing abruptly after an incident in Ramsgate. So abruptly that she had left certain things behind, including the riding habit. It fit Elizabeth well, without the need for alterations.

  She had never owned a riding habit. On the rare occasions when she rode horseback at home, she wore her regular clothes. She did not tend to ride for pleasure, but instead to get from place to place.

  There had not been enough horses for all her sisters to ride at the same time, so she might only have ridden somewhere if she and Jane were going there. More often, everyone walked.

  Elizabeth knew her way around horses, but she could see that Georgiana was an expert horsewoman, inspecting the saddle and reins that had been put on by the grooms in the stable and adjusting things that she did not find to her liking. Elizabeth, however, just stood by, stroking the mane of her horse and waiting.

  “I’m so glad you’ve agreed to ride with me,” said Georgiana. “I haven’t had anyone to ride with since Miss Younge was dismissed. Miss Thackerey is afraid of horses.”

  “Really? But she seems such a brave lady.”

  “She told me that her sister was kicked in the head by a horse when she was a little girl.”

  “Oh, how dreadful!”

  “Yes, I can see why it might put one off horses entirely. But it wasn’t the horse’s fault, you know? Horses only kick whenever they are frightened. They are good beasts, and very intelligent.” Georgiana gave her horse a pat. “Well, where do you wish to ride, Miss Bennet?”

  “I do not know the area as well as you do,” said Elizabeth. “You must chart a course for us, Miss Darcy.”

  Georgiana laughed. “All right, I know just the way we will go. It is an easy path. There are no fences to jump over.”

  Fence jumping? Oh, dear, Elizabeth was not ready for anything like that.

  The two took off riding along the path, with Georgiana in the lead. To Elizabeth’s relief, the path truly was a gentle one, and Georgiana did not take the horse too quickly either. She must have sensed that Elizabeth was not very experienced with horses. At very few points could they ride side by side, so there was very little talking. Instead, Elizabeth was able to see all the beauty of the grounds surrounding Pemberley, and she was charmed by it.

  She still felt out of place in the huge house, but perhaps, out here in these fields, she could feel as though she were at home.

  But the two had not gone far when they noticed that there was a man up ahead on the path, ambling along, leading his own horse.

  When Georgiana saw him, she pulled up her horse short. “No,” she whispered. “It can’t be.”

  And that was when Elizabeth recognized the man. Mr. Wickham? What was he doing here? He had said that he had grown up here, but he was meant to be in Brighton with the regiment. He did not belong out in these woods.

  Georgiana turned her horse and galloped back the other way without a word to Elizabeth.

  “Wait!” called Elizabeth after her. “I am not sure I know the way back.”

  At her yell, Mr. Wickham looked up and saw her, and wonder spread over his countenance.

  Elizabeth hesitated, looking after Georgiana, who disappeared around a bend and was no longer visible, and then looking back to Mr. Wickham. She sighed heavily, and then she dismounted from the horse. She wished she could say that she did it gracefully, but she was not used to climbing up and down on horses at all, and her skirt seemed to go everywhere. By the time she was safely on the ground, Mr. Wickham was upon her.

  “Miss Bennet?” called Mr. Wickham. “What can you be doing here? Do my eyes deceive me?”

  “It is I, Mr. Wickham,” she said, holding her horse’s reins with one hand and straightening her skirts with the other. “And I might ask you the same question. Aren’t you meant to be with the regiment now in Brighton?”

  “What?” said Wickham. “Oh, yes, well, I shall return there eventually, when I have had a bit of a conversation with Mr. Darcy. He owes me, as you well know, and I have a few various sundries I need to pay. He shall help me. I shall see to it. But what are you doing here?”

  “I…” She looked down at the ground, feeling acutely embarrassed. “I have, er, become engaged to Mr. Darcy.”

  There was no response from Mr. Wickham.

  She looked up at him.

  He looked stunned. But then a slow smile crept over his face. “Well, well, Miss Bennet. I had quite a different idea about you, I think. But good for you. If a man like Darcy can be charmed and manipulated, who better than a woman like you?”

  “It’s not…” She cleared her throat. “That is, I didn’t aim to manipulate him. I suppose you heard about what happened in Hertfordshire.”

  “Hmm?”

  “The sickness?” she said. “How long have you been away from the regiment?”

  “Oh, I can’t say for sure either way,” said Wickham. “A bit of time, though. Doesn’t matter. There was sickness in Hertfordshire?”

  “Yes, indeed. It was dreadful. Everyone… well, so many succumbed. I lost both my parents and two of my sisters.”

  “Oh, Miss Bennet.” Wickham shook his head. “I am most sincerely sorry. I should have inquired right away when I saw your mourning clothes.”

  “It is all right. At any rate, after it happened, everything was different. And I accepted Mr. Darcy.”

  “Wait, though, how did you get him to propose?”

  “I did not ‘get’ him to do it. He did it on his own.”

 
“Oh, Lord, yes, of course he did.” Wickham winked at her.

  “Listen I don’t know what you’re implying—”

  “Play innocent, then,” said Wickham, still grinning at her. “I rather like it when you do. So, do you think you could broker a bit of a meeting of the minds between myself and your fiance?”

  “He is not here. He left on business,” she said. “But when he returns, I fully intend to speak to him. I have always intended to speak to him on your behalf, in fact. I had hoped I could do some good as his wife.”

  Wickham cocked his head at her, taking her in. “He listens to you then?”

  “I…” She shook her head. “Well, not yet, I suppose. Perhaps someday, though.” She turned away. “You must be thinking such awful things about me. The way that you and I spoke of him, how we made fun of him, and now here I am marrying him. You must feel betrayed.”

  “Indeed, no, Miss Bennet.” Wickham was grinning again. “You are quite the creature, aren’t you? I’m not sure if I do have the right idea about you, even now. You are a puzzle.”

  “I don’t mean to be,” she said.

  “Well, there are people like Mr. Darcy in the world, who have everything handed to them, and then there are people like you and me, who have to use whatever assets we have to get what we need. Never think I would fault you for doing what you had to do. Never think that at all.”

  “So, we are still friends?”

  “Oh, indeed,” he said. “I should very much like to be your friend, Miss Bennet. A close, personal confidante, in fact. How long did you say Mr. Darcy will be away?”

  “I didn’t,” she said. “And I don’t entirely know. He said it would be at least a week, but that it could take longer.”

  “Excellent,” said Mr. Wickham.

  “But you wanted to see him, did you not?”

  He chuckled. “I shall call on you tomorrow. Would that be agreeable to you? Perhaps we could go for a walk.”

  “Oh, I suppose so,” she said. “Yes, I shall expect you then.”

  “Excellent,” he said again. “Shall I help you back on your horse?”

  “Oh, I suppose so. I was following Miss Darcy, but she is so terribly shy.”

  “No, she does not like me,” said Mr. Wickham. “It wounds me greatly, in fact. She used to be quite the dear little girl, riding about on my shoulders. But now that she is grown, she shuns me. Her brother’s influence no doubt.”

  Well, that could be the reason, Elizabeth supposed. Truly, she could not understand why Mr. Darcy was so horrible to Mr. Wickham. Now that she knew him better, it did not actually seem like him. She would have to speak to Mr. Darcy about it when he returned. “I’m afraid I’m not sure how to get back to the house.”

  “This path takes you right back,” said Wickham. “And the horse knows the way. Here, let me assist you.” He offered her his arm.

  She allowed him, and Wickham seemed to put his hands all over her to get her back on the horse, which sent strange and uncomfortable sensations through her. She found she did not quite like it when he touched her. She was thankful when she was back on the horse.

  “Till tomorrow, Miss Bennet!” He waved at her as she rode off.

  * * *

  When Elizabeth got back to Pemberley, she had Martha help her out of the riding habit and then she sought out Georgiana. She did not find her in any of the sitting rooms, not even the one with piano that Georgiana liked to play. Martha told her where Georgiana’s bedroom was, and Elizabeth went there. The door was shut.

  Elizabeth knocked gently on the door. “Miss Darcy?”

  No response from within.

  “Miss Darcy, are you in there?”

  Still nothing.

  “I am going to open the door.” Elizabeth waited and then she turned the knob. She entered the room and saw that Georgiana was huddled up on her bed, clutching her knees to her chest. Elizabeth crossed the room and sat down next to her. “I understand you don’t like Mr. Wickham.”

  “What?” Georgiana raised her face to look at Elizabeth and she looked as though she had been crying.

  “Mr. Wickham. He says that you do not like him.”

  “Oh, he did?” Now Georgiana was a little bit sarcastic. “Well, that’s exactly like him to say something like that.” She clutched her knees tighter and put her head down. She was crying again.

  “Do you… that is… is there something he’s done?”

  “I don’t want to talk about Mr. Wickham,” sobbed Georgiana. “I don’t want to talk to you. Go away. Go away!”

  “Listen—”

  “Go away!” Georgiana lifted her head and screamed it. Her voice had never been so loud.

  Elizabeth recoiled, and she left the room.

  At dinner that night, Georgiana was quiet again, and she declined to retire to the sitting room with Elizabeth and Miss Thackerey, instead going straight to bed.

  The other two women spoke about her as dusk settled outside.

  “I don’t know what happened,” said Miss Thackerey, “but something quite bad happened just before I was hired. The last governess that Georgiana had was apparently very bad.”

  “Oh,” said Elizabeth.

  “I think it had something to do with that Wickham,” said Thackerey. “I think the governess may have been of loose morals or simply angling to try to trap that Wickham in marriage. I don’t know. I have heard whispers, but I have not been able to put it all together.”

  “I see,” said Elizabeth, nodding. “And then this scheming woman included poor, sweet Georgiana in her awful behavior?”

  “Exactly,” said Thackerey. “She somehow managed to get Georgiana off to Ramsgate, and I believe Wickham was there, and I have no idea what the governess and Wickham were up to. Perhaps all manner of impropriety in front of the poor girl. Or perhaps just turning her out to her own devices so that they could be alone together.”

  “I wouldn’t have expected such villainy of Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth.

  “Oh, do you know him?”

  “Yes, I became acquainted with him back at home in Hertfordshire. He is a very pleasant gentleman. I think he has been through hardship in this world. I can hardly imagine him dallying with a governess, but what do I know of men?”

  “He may not have been part of it,” said Thackerey. “It could have all been on the side of the governess, you know? As I said, she may have been aiming to trap him.”

  “Trap him why? He has no fortune.”

  “I don’t know. I hear he was most favored by the late Mr. Darcy. Perhaps she thought he had been given an inheritance or some sort of provision for his living.”

  Elizabeth squared her shoulders. “Well, you see, apparently there was something. A living left for Mr. Wickham, as a parson here in Derbyshire. But for some reason, Mr. Darcy did not honor that promise to Mr. Wickham. Originally, I had thought that perhaps Mr. Darcy did not do it because he was nothing more than a villain, but I am beginning to think that there is more to it than that.”

  “Hmm,” said Miss Thackerey. “Perhaps Darcy blamed Wickham for corrupting his sister. Perhaps he punished him because of that.”

  “Yes, but if it was only the governess, then I could find a way to mend things between the two of them,” said Elizabeth. “I could bring them together again. They were boyhood friends, and now they are at odds. It would be a good thing to do, do you not think?”

  “Oh, indeed,” said Miss Thackerey. “I think you must find out the truth of it from Wickham.”

  “Yes, but how do I speak of it with him? It is not proper casual conversation. It all sounds so shocking.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps you can bring it up in a roundabout way, and get him talking about it. If he feels that there are parts of the tale unfit for a maiden’s ears, you can tell him to simply skip over them. Although, I do find those tend to be the most juicy bits of a tale.” She made a face.

  Elizabeth laughed.

  Miss Thackerey laughed too.

 
“Listen, if he upsets Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “we must keep him away from her. He is coming to call on me tomorrow. Perhaps you can see to it that she is occupied elsewhere, so that she does not know?”

  “Of course. I would be happy to. Find out the truth, and then we shall all know what to do.”

  * * *

  Elizabeth was more confused than anything. She was not sure that the time line added up. She knew that it was somewhat recent that Georgiana’s latest governess had been dismissed, and she thought that the rift between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham was older than that. She had gotten that impression when she had spoken to Mr. Wickham. But she could not remember precisely what he had said.

  The appearance of Mr. Wickham had shaken her badly, however.

  She was forced to confront all the reasons she had for not marrying Mr. Darcy. She was not even sure why she had accepted him. It was expedient, of course. She was flung onto the charity of relatives else. She had a pittance of an inheritance, enough to barely live on, but not enough to thrive on. The marriage made sense.

  But this was a man that she had been quite sure she despised. He had separated Jane and Mr. Bingley. But of course, Mr. Bingley was gone in any case. Even if they had been married—well, but no, because Jane could have been a widow, Mrs. Bingley, and that would have been quite a different position to be in after the death of their father. Mr. Darcy had destroyed all that. Jane could have had a few months of happiness with Mr. Bingley. And who knows? Perhaps if they had married, they would not have even been at home in Hertfordshire when the sickness broke out, and Mr. Bingley would be alive today.

  But she could not lay the death of Mr. Bingley at Mr. Darcy’s feet. That was going too far.

  He had behaved badly, however. And he had been most unkind to Mr. Wickham. She should not have accepted him. It made her seem like a shallow woman, concerned only with a fortune.

  She wasn’t. She cared about love. At least, she used to. After all, if she had only wanted to be comfortable, she would have accepted Mr. Collins. She had no inkling at the time that a proposal from Mr. Darcy lay in her future. She could not have hoped for such an opportunity.