Yours affectionately,
George Wickham
She dropped the letter on the floor as if it were on fire. Mr. Wickham wrote to me! What impertinence!
Elizabeth jumped when she heard a rap on the door, quickly tore off the bottom portion with his missive, and dropped it in the fire. Foolish Lydia! “Enter,” she called, when Mr. Wickham’s words had charred down to ashes.
Aunt Gardiner stood in the doorway. “Lizzy, I was wondering if you were ready to go down to dinner.”
“I am ready.” She closed the door behind her and breathed deeply, hoping to seem unaffected by the letter.
“My dear Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner began as they walked down the hallway, “I noticed you were in company with Mr. Darcy on your walk this morning.”
“Yes, but we did not walk out together nor was it a secret assignation.” Lizzy rolled her eyes at her aunt’s implications. “I stumbled upon an old ruin, and he happened to be there reading. He offered to escort me back, and I accepted. Nothing untoward occurred.”
“Nor would I think it would have, Lizzy. It is only that I thought you were quite set against him. I do not wish him to assume the wrong notion from your friendliness. And I have noticed he has a partiality towards you.” At Elizabeth’s surprised expression, Mrs. Gardiner continued. “He cannot help but gaze at you across the table at dinner. Or stare at you when you are playing the piano. I believe he is enchanted.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Oh, Aunt. Mr. Darcy has no interest in me. You know he finds me only tolerable—and that from his own lips. No, he is destined for a greater match than a poor country miss, and I, hopefully, for someone who loves me.”
“If you think so,” Mrs. Gardiner replied sniffing. “Only see that you understand your feelings before being set against him. From what Amelia tells me, he is not the man you believe him to be.”
“On that, you are correct.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Mr. Darcy is proving to be more than I originally believed.”
“Then you must not make a hasty judgment. More than one man has gone against his social standing for a woman he loves.”
“Now you are talking nonsense. Come, come. Change the subject before I believe you have a fever or have had too much of the wine.”
Mrs. Gardiner, raised her eyebrows at her niece. “Mock me all you wish, young lady, but I know the look of love in a man’s eye.”
“Love? Oh, Aunt. I have seen him only for a few days. How can you declare it is love? I assure you whatever feelings Mr. Darcy had for me in Hertfordshire have altered, but love? I am certain the man has only gained a level of comfort with me that he could not while surrounded by Miss Bingley.”
“Yes, well. If that is what you wish to believe. But I warn you to not take lightly what I say, dear girl.” She patted Lizzy’s arm lovingly and then continued. “On another score, I am to understand that Mr. Turner means to take us on a most intriguing outing in two days’ time.”
“Oh, you know how to raise my curiosity. But, come, let us hurry to dinner.”
The two women flitted down the hallway, unaware their conversation had planted a seed of doubt in the heart of a man from Derbyshire standing quietly in a doorway.
She believes I am indifferent to her, that I find her unappealing! Darcy took a sip of his wine and glanced at Miss Elizabeth across the table while she conversed with Mrs. Anderson. The final course had almost concluded, and he was attempting to not stare at her as her aunt had mentioned before in the hall.
I must regulate my attention. I do not wish to seem a mooncalf nor do I wish to ignore her. He ran his finger around the rim of his glass. How can she believe I am indifferent to her? When Mrs. Anderson rose, he was relieved Turner suggested they forego cigars and follow the ladies into the drawing room.
After Elizabeth had exhibited on the piano, Phillip clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention and announced, “My sister has a desire to drive out in my new phaeton, and I suggest, as the weather is fine, we take a picnic tomorrow and indulge her whim.”
After the ladies settled that it was an agreeable plan, Darcy said, “And as long as we are obliging our sisters, I would be honored if you ladies would accompany Turner to Pemberley in two weeks to celebrate my sister’s birthday. It will be an intimate affair, as Georgiana is not out, but my cousin and I have contrived a small ball to begin preparing her for the season.”
“Ladies?” asked Turner, glowing from his friend’s request.
“Oh, yes. I long to see dear Miss Darcy,” Mrs. Anderson said.
“And I am honored to be invited to a home I admired so much as a child. Growing up in Lambton, we were always aware of the benevolence of that great estate.”
Darcy smiled, then turned to Miss Bennet. “What say you, Miss Elizabeth. Are you averse to attending the birthday ball of my sister?”
She pursed her lips. “I do believe, as long as there are not too many ladies in want of partners, I shall enjoy myself tremendously.”
He stiffened, knowing that she was baiting him but smiled as he said, “Miss Elizabeth, I am certain any man who did not take the opportunity to dance with you when it was first presented, would rectify the situation on the next occasion were he not a fool!” He forced himself to maintain an even breath as a lovely hue spread across her cheeks. And I can assure you, madam, I am no fool!
Chapter 6
July 8, 1812
“All I know is, if I were the next King of England, I would not build something so ugly. What a waste!” Lydia Bennet wrinkled her nose as she and her dearest friend, Harriet Forster walked along the street looking across at the Royal Pavilion.
“I agree, Lydia. It shows a complete lack of taste. Whether or not you are the future King, you must remember to stay loyal to your country and not build a house belonging in India.”
The girls tittered away as Harriet pulled a candy from her reticule. “Here, Lydia. I know this is your favorite and I saved one so you would have a little treat on our walk, in case Mr. Wickham does not bring you anything.”
“Oh, la! I do not expect George to bring me anything. He still owes me nine shillings, that I shall never see again. But, that is all well, as I know I am his favorite.”
Harriet snorted before responding. “Not your sister Elizabeth? He is always asking about her, asking you to write a little something to her in your letters. Does not that make you worry?”
Lydia rolled her eyes as she grabbed the candy from Harriet and popped it in her mouth while shaking her head. “You have met all my sisters. You know the only one better looking than me is Jane, and she is so dull. No, Lizzy is not a threat to my happiness—whatever I choose it to be.” She then untied her bonnet and dangled it by the ribbons behind her as she walked.
“Lydia! What are you doing?”
“Oh, la! No one cares if I wear a bonnet in Brighton or not. This is not London, for pity’s sake, and things are much less prim here. Besides, I believe the men in the militia like a girl who is a little daring. George surely does!” And he will do for now.
She giggled and spun the hat around by the ribbons in a large circle not caring what anyone thought of her.
Harriet chuckled and stopped walking. “You think Mr. Wickham likes someone who is a little daring?”
“Yes. I believe he does.” Lydia turned to look back at her friend, shading her eyes from the sunlight blazing across the water.
“I think he likes someone excessively daring, more than any gentleman’s daughter should be.”
Scowling at her friend, she walked back to see what Harriet was gawping at down an alleyway. There, not forty yards from them, was George Wickham, as handsome as ever, with his lips pressed firmly on the mouth of a woman neither girl recognized.
“What do you think, Miss Bennet? Is this not an ideal spot?” Mr. Turner pulled up beside the phaeton with Mrs. Anderson and Mrs. Gardiner in the front seat and Lizzy on the bench behind them.
“Indeed, it is, sir. I could not i
magine a more picturesque setting for a picnic.”
Elizabeth felt the full joy of the day before her as she appreciated the natural beauty of her surroundings.
“And more lovely victuals,” Turner added, descending from his horse and holding his hand out to Mrs. Gardiner. “Mrs. Green insured we shall feast like Bacchus.”
Mrs. Gardiner accepted Mr. Turner’s hand down from the carriage before he reached for Mrs. Anderson’s.
“I think, sir, with such hospitality, I might never return to London,” Elizabeth’s aunt said with a smile.
“Nor I to Longbourn. I might wish to stay in Derbyshire my whole life.”
“Your whole life?” Elizabeth started at Mr. Darcy’s deep voice beside her. “Allow me, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Pardon?” Her heart quickened.
He extended his hand to her and she silently chastised herself—for she knew not what—and prayed the heat in her cheeks could be attributed to the sun. Since their walk at the ruins on Chenowith’s grounds, Mr. Darcy had been in her thoughts more than she cared to admit.
The fact that he was the handsomest man of her acquaintance was obvious. True, he did not have the grace and charm of Mr. Wickham, but there was a steadiness about his character that was disarming. I do not know Mr. Wickham’s character, other than what he himself has told me, and yet I am introduced to Mr. Darcy’s at every turn.
She smiled at him and took his hand. As she stepped over the edge of the seat, the hem of her skirt caught on a slat, causing her to stumble forward and into his arms.
Startled, he held her a moment longer than necessary. “Miss Elizabeth, pray tell me you are well?” he asked softly.
“Lizzy, my dear girl! Are you alright?”
“Yes, yes, Aunt, I am. It is only that I…well, it seems that I…” I cannot think with Mr. Darcy holding me. Her breath swelled as his eyes stared into hers.
“I am, sir, I thank you. It is only that…”
He appeared to realize his folly and gently set her next to him.
“Ah, yes, no harm done,” Mrs. Anderson said as Mr. Turner came around to stand next to Darcy. “Miss Bennet is a hardy girl. Not one of these missish ladies from London.”
The men grabbed baskets of food and the older women laughed as they laid out their feast under the shade of a large weeping willow by the lake. Elizabeth struggled to find some equanimity after the experience as she watched the man whose very presence lately shook her to her core, walk down towards the water. She could not help but follow.
Darcy shook himself out of his haze as he set to certain tasks with Phillip. He then walked to the edge of the banks. You must regain your composure, man! But how? To have held her in my arms and still be expected to speak inane pleasantries about the weather? He failed to school his features, as he felt a grin spread across his face. To have held her in my arms! He exhaled and closed his eyes, remembering both her softness against him and her lavender scent.
“Mr. Darcy. Might I ask what great pleasure you have which prompts those dimples? I believe I had not made their acquaintance before my visit to Chenowith.”
He cleared his throat before turning to the woman standing at his elbow, unable to hide his said dimples. “I must own I did not smile as much in Hertfordshire as I do here in Chenowith.”
“You were not happy in Hertfordshire, sir?” She stepped towards the bank and picked up a stone.
He thought for a moment before responding. “I am more at ease when I am in Derbyshire than when I am not.”
“No. No, I do not think that can be the entire reason. Although I do believe you are more accustomed here, I think a man of education and society could feel at ease in almost all situations. No, sir. I will not allow you to offer such a trite answer to be done with me.” She teased him before allowing her voice and smile to soften. “I believe, sir, you had other worries upon you when you were in our little hamlet.” Her voice trailed off, and she continued to face forward.
“Why would you say that?” he asked, furrowing his brow.
She shrugged her shoulders and tossed the rock into the lake before bending down and picking up another. “I have been studying your character, and I see a countenance not in keeping with how you presented yourself. Mr. Darcy digging potatoes in the field? I am aware of your benevolence but that speaks to a level of ease which I was not aware you possessed. I am certain you are not the man I once thought you to be.”
She tossed the pebble in the lake and then stared out across the water. Turning to look at him directly, she said, “I am also uncertain of things I have heard said about you but do not match the character of the man I have been in company with for these last days.” She quickly looked down and seemed to make a study of her half boots.
He picked up a small stone and reached for her hand before laying it in her palm. “Miss Elizabeth. I am a man who has made mistakes in the past, but my character is one which is not compromised. I hope you allow me the opportunity to show you for myself who I am and not take the words of others.” He let his hand linger, enchanted by the sweet rosiness spreading across her cheeks.
She took a breath before she said quietly, “I believe that is good advice, Mr. Darcy. I will heed it.”
After the sumptuous repast, the guests all reclined in different degrees under the shade. Elizabeth’s gaze settled on Mr. Darcy and Mr. Turner, who were discussing the most recent campaign by Napoleon, which had left hundreds of British soldiers dead.
I am grateful to be a woman, as the men must be so hot in their coats and cravats. She shook her head as an image of Mr. Darcy working in the fields came to her mind’s eye. Elizabeth Bennet, stop this at once! But she could not. The image teased her for another minute, causing her blood to race before she was brought back to the present.
“Lizzy. Lizzy, are you well?” She looked up to her aunt. “You are flushed!”
“Oh, it is nothing, Aunt. I was just wool-gathering.”
“It is a lovely spot to daydream.” Mrs. Anderson continued, “Now, if Phillip will only inform us of his plans for tomorrow, we will have another pleasure to look forward to!”
All eyes turned from Elizabeth to Mr. Turner, as he grinned. “You are quite right, Sister. Very well.” He stood and theatrically bowed. “Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Elizabeth, I do hope you are amenable to adventure?” Elizabeth looked at her aunt with raised eyebrows. “For your enjoyment, tomorrow, we will be taking a trip to the Caverns at Poole.” Elizabeth noticed an almost imperceptible gasp from Mr. Darcy. “What say you, Miss Bennet? Are you alive to a most diverting trip?”
She smiled at her host. “I am indeed, sir. I have heard of the caverns but never imagined I myself would visit them.”
She turned to Mr. Darcy as he cleared his throat again. “Do you think it is wise, Turner? The underground spring which runs through the cavern tends to swell in the summer. It can be quite dangerous.”
Mr. Turner laughed at his friend. “Darcy, you will frighten the ladies. You worry too much, much like a rider before his first race. Ladies, we are not young jackanapes running from our nannies. We will stay with our guide. No ill will come upon us.”
Mr. Turner’s words had affected Mr. Darcy again. His jaw tightened, and he looked away from the party.
“Well, we should head back,” Mr. Turner said, standing to assist the ladies. Mr. Darcy quickly stood and extended his hand to Elizabeth.
“Thank you,” she said, casting a questioning glance at him. After helping the ladies retrieve the baskets and blankets, he walked over to untie the horses.
As the men handed the ladies into the phaeton, Elizabeth overheard Mr. Darcy say to his companion, “Phillip. I do not know if it is entirely safe to take gently-bred ladies.”
“Darce, I am certain they will be fine. You worry for not, my friend,” Mr. Turner said, laughing.
“Mrs. Green,” Mr. Turner called as the party entered the front doors of Chenowith, and the flurry of footmen and maids hovered about to assist their arrival
.
“Yes, sir?” she asked, coming down the hallway.
“Please advise Cook, that although today’s delicacies were outstanding, she will need to outdo herself for tomorrow as we will go on a greater excursion.”
“Very well, sir. Are there any particular requests?” Mrs. Green asked, turning to Mrs. Anderson.
“Some of those lovely strawberry tarts,” he interrupted.
He smiled at his group, and Elizabeth smiled back, noticing Darcy was not sharing in the joy.
“Very well, sir. I will see to it. A letter came for you, Mr. Darcy, and you as well, ma’am,” Mrs. Green said, placing an envelope in Mrs. Anderson’s hand.
“Thank you,” she replied, breaking the seal.
Mrs. Green began to walk away, and all the guests were moving towards the sitting room when Mr. Turner continued. “We will depart very early, ladies. The Caverns at Poole are a sight to be seen.”
Had Elizabeth’s maid not struggled with the ribbons on her bonnet, she too would have been in the sitting room and not witnessed the exchange between the remaining occupants in the hall. At Mr. Turner’s loud pronouncement, Mrs. Green gasped and stopped to face Mr. Darcy. He nodded subtly, acknowledging her, before walking through the door. The housekeeper turned and continued down the hallway but Elizabeth was surprised to see her wipe what could only have been tears from her eyes.
“And you have never met this young lady?” Mrs. Gardiner asked Mrs. Anderson as Elizabeth entered the room.
Mr. Turner poured a drink while Mr. Darcy stood with his hands clasped behind his back looking out the window.
“No, I have not. The poor young girl was the daughter of my dear husband’s cousin who died two years ago. Her mother died nine months ago.”
“How dreadful,” Aunt Gardiner said, stirring her tea.
“According to the letter, she has nowhere to go, as her husband was killed in March on the continent and she cannot touch her inheritance until the end of this year.”
The Goodness of Men Page 6
