A Vision of the Path Before Him

by Elizabeth Frerichs

  “Wickham arrives tomorrow,” Darcy said, fidgeting with his shirt cuffs.

  “Tomorrow?” Penn asked. “I had thought it some days hence.”

  Darcy shook his head. “No, if everything remains as Before, it was two days after Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth left. Bingley was determined to visit Miss Bennet and ascertain her well-being. We happened upon them in Meryton on our way to call at Longbourn. Wickham was there ‘making a new acquaintance,’ as Miss Elizabeth called it.”

  “What do you intend to do?” Penn asked bluntly.

  Darcy raked a hand through his hair. “I do not know. Bingley reminded me that whatever I do must not be traceable back to me, lest Wickham ruin Georgiana’s reputation.”

  “I am certain you did not need the reminder; however, he is correct.”

  “He thinks we ought to involve one of the locals.”

  Penn tipped his head to one side, studying Darcy. “Do you have a preference as to who you involve?”

  “Sir William Lucas is the magistrate and would be a beneficial option. On the other hand, Wickham stole Mr. Bennet’s daughter in my vision.” He hesitated—the one woman he longed for as an ally flashed across his mind once more. “Miss Elizabeth would be valuable beyond measure, but I cannot tell her of my vision.”

  Penn’s eyes widened. “Did you intend to inform Mr. Bennet or Sir William of your vision?”

  Darcy shook his head.

  “Then why must you tell Miss Elizabeth? Can you not enlist her to your cause without speaking of it?”

  “I suppose it is possible . . . . However, omitting my vision does not seem advisable.”

  “How so?” Penn asked.

  “She is—I intend to marry her. What sort of foundation am I laying if I lie to the woman I love?”

  “Do you intend to lie to her?”

  Darcy pulled the cravat from his neck, considering what exactly he would tell Elizabeth. “No, but I do not believe I can impress upon her the gravity of the situation without speaking of my vision.”

  “You will tell her of Miss Georgiana’s experiences with George Wickham?”

  Darcy nodded.

  “Do you intend to share the long list of offenses the man has wreaked upon others?”

  Darcy nodded again.

  “I doubt you will need to add inducement to act. Knowledge of the scoundrel’s prior actions and his continued presence in Meryton will cause concern for any thinking person. Miss Elizabeth has shown concern for tenants and servants—I doubt she will take the news of his probable depredations with indifference.”

  “That is true. She will be up in arms at once to protect the merchants of Meryton, the townspeople, and other young women. Given how much she cares for her family, I doubt she will ignore the threat he poses.”

  “Do you ever intend to tell her of your future vision?”

  “Of course!”

  “When?”

  Darcy frowned. “I do not know,” he finally admitted. “Before we wed, if I can ever woo her successfully. But not until she agrees to wed me.”

  “Then, if he is coming tomorrow, I do not see how you can tell her of your vision before speaking to her of George Wickham,” Penn said, laying out the morrow’s clothing. “You must choose one or the other.”

  “True. It still feels dishonest.”

  “Aye. But it is not. And you are correct that she would be a valuable ally—she cares about others’ well-being and she knows the influential people in the area.”

  Darcy nodded.

  “When will you speak with her?” Penn prodded.

  “I do not know.” He began to pace. “I spoke to Bingley and asked him for advice, but we have not discussed any further strategies.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” Penn asked.

  Darcy halted. “Certainly. I welcome your advice—you know that.”

  “Speak to Miss Elizabeth and her father at the same time. It will give you opportunity to warn Miss Elizabeth without it seeming untoward or making her skittish. It will also forewarn Mr. Bennet of the danger his daughters are in. As a father and head of one of the prominent families in the area, he may be able to assist in ways we are not aware of.”

  Darcy continued his pacing, turning the idea over. Would it help? He had already considered informing Mr. Bennet of the situation. The man appeared uninterested in curbing the worst of his family’s behaviour. Indeed, he had seemed amused by their poor behaviour at the Netherfield ball, and his attitude had contributed to Darcy’s determination to rescue Bingley from the path he had chosen. However little care Mr. Bennet showed for his wife and daughters’ behaviour, he could not wish them to be taken advantage of.

  What would be the worst that could happen? Mr. Bennet might refuse to heed his warning and he would be left to manage the situation on his own. In other words, he would be no worse off. No better, but no worse. He doubted Mr. Bennet would champion Wickham.

  Elizabeth might.

  Darcy’s breath caught as he considered the possibility. She had championed Wickham to him Before. But she had softened towards him now—might she not believe his word over Wickham’s? Or at the very least, be cautious of Wickham’s words? If she were to side with Wickham, even knowing the harm the man had done, it would be a clear sign that she did not believe him and had refused to alter her sketch of him.

  If only he knew how her future self had taken the news of Wickham’s perfidy. Had that Elizabeth believed him? Even a little? Or had her opinions remained fixed?

  Why hadn’t he sought her out prior to the autumn Before? If he had, things would have been far different. But he hadn’t wanted to press himself in where he was unwanted. He hadn’t been able to bear the idea of watching scorn and hatred and disgust in her eyes even after his letter.

  “Sir?” Penn asked, bringing him back to the present.

  Darcy flashed him a wry smile. “Woolgathering.”

  “You look concerned.”

  “I was wishing I knew how Miss Elizabeth had perceived Wickham’s lies with the benefit of my information, Before. I don’t believe I told you: I had felt compelled to correct her false accusations and so I wrote her a letter telling her of Wickham’s perfidy and of my reasons for separating Miss Bennet and Bingley.”

  Penn blinked at him. “You separated Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley?”

  “Yes. I mistakenly believed Miss Bennet to be an opportunist like her mother.”

  Penn straightened, his face falling into the impassive lines that frequently denoted disagreement.

  Darcy winced. “I also believed her neutral towards Bingley. I did not wish to see my friend in a marriage of unequal affections.” Before Penn could respond, Darcy ploughed on. “I was wrong. I now know that Miss Bennet has a modest disposition and does not wear her heart on her sleeve.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I do not know how Miss Elizabeth responded to my letter Before. It was the last time that I saw her,” he said with a pained grimace.

  “Then I suppose you must do what we all do: act without knowing the result of your actions.”

  Darcy nodded. “I just hope she believes me. She championed Wickham—”

  “Without knowing what a bounder he was,” Penn pointed out.

  “True. I believe that she would be horrified to discover her preference for such a person. This time her heart is not engaged by Wickham, unless she is instantly drawn to him.”

  “Have you considered riding to Longbourn earlier in the day and escorting her to Meryton so that she does not encounter Wickham alone?”

  Darcy frowned. “Would not that add to the gossip?”

  “Are you averse to have her name linked with yours or Mr. Bingley’s name further linked with Miss Bennet’s?”

  Darcy’s lips quirked up as visions of him and Elizabeth together filled his mind. “No, I have no desire to change my intentions. Bingley intends to ask Miss Bennet for a courtship, and I plan to emulate him as soon as I am certain that Miss Elizabeth will not refuse me.�
�� A thought struck him. “But Miss Elizabeth might not be so content to have my name linked with hers. Before, she did say that I was ‘the last man in the world whom she could ever marry.’ ” The pain of that moment smote him again. He had bungled the whole thing abominably, but he was no longer that man.

  “You believe Miss Elizabeth will be uncomfortable to have her name associated with yours?”

  “Yes.” Darcy clasped his hands behind his back and resumed his pacing. “I have tried not to make her uncomfortable with my interest.”

  “You cannot control the gossip of others,” Penn said. “It is equally possible that gossipers may focus on Mr. Bingley’s preference for Miss Bennet.”

  “True.” Darcy bit his lip in a rare reversion to childhood habits of uncertainty. “I will speak to Bingley tomorrow.”

  “Very well, sir. Will you go for a ride in the morning?”

  “No, I would prefer to see Bingley first thing.” Darcy straightened. “But, Penn, I must do more than merely protect the Bennets and the people of Meryton. I cannot leave him free to prey on another family in another locale. I must curtail him somehow.”

  “You must?”

  “Yes. Not because he is connected to my family and is my responsibility—well, not only due to that fact. I am fully aware of his character; others are not. In addition, for the love I bore him when we were very young, I cannot allow him to continue his swath of destruction. It is not in his best interest, and it would not be right.”

  “I see your dilemma. You desire to protect others by warning them, but if word reaches Wickham he may simply move on and prey on others. In addition, you desire to protect Miss Darcy.”

  “Yes.”

  Penn meditated for a moment. “He is enlisted in the militia?”

  “In my vision, he was.”

  “Have you considered requesting Colonel Fitzwilliam’s assistance?”

  “I have.” Darcy hesitated. “I am not certain that I can trust him to refrain from challenging Wickham to a duel.”

  “The Colonel is capable of restraining his impulses once he understands the need for discretion.”

  “Barely,” Darcy said dryly. “I nearly had to lock him in the house to prevent him from pursuing Wickham after Ramsgate.”

  Penn’s face darkened. “With good reason, sir. However, I believe his presence will be more valuable than his absence. He has knowledge of military discipline and the connections to assist you in a more permanent solution to the problem of George Wickham.”

  “I had intended to write him once I confirmed Wickham’s presence. I shall do so tomorrow after we speak to Mr. Bennet and Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Very well.” Penn hesitated. “And, sir, if there is aught I can do to assist—”

  “You have already assisted most ably, but I shall not hesitate to request your help if I need it,” Darcy assured him.

  Chapter 14

  At breakfast, Darcy’s stomach would not allow him to do more than nibble on his food. Although Bingley’s valet had informed him of Darcy’s request for consultation, Bingley had insisted that he could not think straight on an empty stomach. Darcy clenched his hands in his lap and resolutely schooled his face into a semblance of patience while he waited impatiently for his friend to finish eating.

  Today, he would see Wickham again. In his vision, he had been so full of rage and desperation to protect Georgiana that he had barely kept from throttling the man when they met in Meryton. They had nodded at each other, and he had ridden off, leaving the Bennet sisters to the scoundrel’s non-existent mercies. He had comforted himself that their lack of fortune would keep them them safe from any real schemes on Wickham’s part. Wickham and Miss Lydia’s “elopement” Before made little sense, and he still could not fathom what had resulted in such a turn of events.

  Finally, Bingley finished his food and allowed Darcy to hurry him off to the study. “What is the matter, Darcy?” Bingley asked, as Darcy shut the door and sank into a chair, only to spring up again and begin pacing.

  “Wickham,” Darcy said tightly. “He is arriving today.”

  “Today? Are you certain?”

  Darcy gave a short nod. “As certain as I am about anything in my vision—it has all come true thus far, so I have no reason to suspect that this too will not occur, much as I wish I were wrong.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “Penn had a suggestion—one which I desire your opinion of.”

  “Oh?”

  “We could ride out early this morning and perhaps walk the Bennet sisters into Meryton and thereby oversee their meeting,” Darcy began.

  “You would introduce them to such a reprobate?” Bingley asked in shocked tones.

  “Of course not!” Darcy said, halting in his tracks. “Oh, I see what you mean: if they are with us, it is unlikely they will make his acquaintance unless we introduce him.”

  “Actually, I meant that perhaps we should prevent the meeting.”

  Darcy mused over this idea. “I had not considered that, however, I do not think it a wise idea. If they do not know who he is, how can they avoid him? Besides, I would prefer to know exactly where Wickham is—much better to confirm his presence without causing him to flee. As I desire a permanent solution to the problem, I do not wish to chase him down again.”

  “I see. Well, how did it happen in your vision?”

  “On our way to Longbourn we rode through Meryton and we encountered the Bennet sisters in the village. You, of course, were desirous of ascertaining Miss Bennet’s well-being. They were speaking with Wickham and another officer. Miss Elizabeth later informed me they had been ‘making a new acquaintance.’ When I saw Wickham, I nearly lost my temper. However, if Wickham were to speak of Georgiana’s near elopement, he could make her life a misery. I could not—I did not know what to do save to protect Georgiana, so I tipped my hat and he did the same. Then I rode off before I could start throttling him, and you followed me.”

  “You just left them?” Bingley asked aghast.

  Darcy bowed his head. “To my eternal shame, yes. I did not consider that he would be a threat to gentlewomen without fortune.”

  “Well—I am certain you acted with the best intentions,” Bingley offered. “However, we will not leave them unprotected now.”

  “No. He did not cause trouble for the Bennets until after Easter next year, so I believe we have time for deliberation.”

  “I do not mean to gainsay you or to cast doubt on your vision,” Bingley said hesitantly, “but I would prefer not to rest in the security of Wickham responding exactly as he did in your vision, especially as it concerns Miss Bennet’s safety.”

  “Of course. What do you propose?”

  Bingley paced in front of his desk. “Perhaps we ought to follow your vision as closely as possible with the exception of leaving the ladies unprotected. If they make his acquaintance before we arrive, they will know who he is. And if we remain by their sides, they will be safe until we can warn them of his character.”

  “We will then escort them about their shopping?”

  “Certainly.” Bingley grinned. “I would not turn down the opportunity to spend more time with my angel, and I am confident that you would not refuse more time with Miss Elizabeth.”

  Darcy returned his smile reluctantly. He always enjoyed being around Elizabeth—would she take it amiss though? Would she be uncomfortable and angry? Especially when Wickham would probably leave? How quickly had the blackguard become her favourite?

  Or would Wickham leave at all? Would he torment Darcy by joining their outing? It would not be unlikely. It was just the sort of thing he enjoyed doing to Darcy. But no, he had not come to the Netherfield Ball Before. Wickham would not press his luck. Darcy forced the worries from his mind.

  “And then we will speak to Mr. Bennet and Miss Elizabeth about Wickham,” Darcy concluded.

  “And Miss Bennet,” Bingley said firmly. “I will not have her ignorant of the dangers.”

  “Ver
y well.”

  ◆◆◆

  When they arrived in Meryton, the scene was as Darcy had recalled: Wickham and a militia member were standing with the Bennet sisters. He had forgotten, however, that Mr. Collins had been with them. With an internal groan, he mentally prepared for the man’s overwhelming presence.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Bennet,” Bingley cried, dismounting from his horse at once.

  “Mr. Bingley,” she said with a curtsy.

  Greetings followed all around, though the younger Bennet sisters barely stopped their whispering and giggles to acknowledge their greeting. Darcy kept his gaze from straying towards Wickham, lest he give the man the pleasure of seeing his disquiet, although he did note out of the corner of his eye that Wickham had turned white. With his increased insight, he noted the tremble in Wickham’s hands before he clasped them behind his back. Guilt smote him as he once more considered that he might have contributed to the warping of his childhood friend into this scoundrel.

  “We were just on our way to Longbourn to inquire after your health, Miss Bennet,” Bingley said.

  Miss Bennet blushed faintly. “I am much better.”

  “That is wonderful to hear!” Bingley enthused.

  “Indeed, I am glad to hear that you have recovered,” Darcy said.

  Mr. Collins cleared his throat, nearly dancing in place as he waited to join the conversation.

  “And this is our cousin, Mr. Collins,” Miss Bennet said, gesturing. “Mr. Collins, our neighbour, Mr. Bingley, and his friend, Mr. Darcy.”

  Darcy and Bingley bowed.

  Mr. Collins bowed low. “Are you Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire?” he asked, his small eyes fixed on Darcy.

  Darcy inclined his head. “Yes,” he added, recalling the need for civility.

  “The nephew of the illustrious Lady Catherine de Bourgh?” he pressed, practically vibrating with excitement.

  “Indeed.”

  “Mr. Darcy, it is my great honour to meet you. In her overflowing benevolence, Lady Catherine bestowed upon me the parish at Rosings. I am pleased to be able to tell you that her ladyship and your betrothed, Miss de Bourgh, were in excellent health when I set out.”