by Nicky Roth
“But I do know Mr. Wickham.”
“Oh well, you are intelligent enough to have figured him out, I am sure.”
“Not at first. It was Mr. Darcy who warned me of him, and I fear I was not very kind in response at first.”
“Yes, Darcy can be a bit abrasive on occasion, I have often told him so. But you would not have been the first and you will not be the last to be blinded by George Wickham. But you came to your senses soon enough, and that alone is some achievement. I know him well and have to say I find him incredibly charming. He always makes me feel young again when he starts flirting with me.”
At that Elizabeth could not help but laugh and it was with some relief that she was joined in her mirth by Lady Catherine herself.
“But…?” the hapless parson stammered.
“Oh come now, Mr. Collins. You are my vicar already, you do not need to constantly impress me. I have given you a living, meaning I cannot get rid of you again. So there is no need to be always of the same opinion than me. A bit of opposition is quite refreshing from time to time. I am however grateful that you took it upon yourself to send me an express. The first of two last night, as not half an hour later I received another one by my nephew.” here her expression changed and she grew concerned. “Is there any way I can help you out of your own troubles, Mr. Collins?”
For a moment the doltish parson looked confused till he remembered his own most unfortunate engagement.
Shaking his head dolefully he replied: “Your offer is very kind, Lady Catherine, but I fear there is no way out. The lady seemed to have been very determined to catch a husband, and before I knew what happened I was engaged to her. Do you think I should call on her?”
Shaking her head in bemused sympathy her Ladyship answered: “It might be proper, but I would actually like to have a word with your betrothed beforehand. As you were not her intended target I need to clarify a few things it seems. Would you like to accompany me to Netherfield, Miss Bennet? I am sure my nephew would be all too happy to see you. And my niece is most eager to meet you. Curious creature she is, but so unbelievably shy. Ever since… - but that is for another time to tell, I suppose.”
However Elizabeth had Lady Catherine imagined to be, this was certainly not it. The kind and busybody person before her, with her sparkling eyes and witty smile, she never would have taken for Mr. Collins’ ‘noble patroness’. She had envisioned a much more formidable person, well exactly like the person she had first encountered, but certainly not this quite sweet and caring lady with her shrewd sense of humour.
So, Mr. Darcy’s sister was shy? Mr. Wickham had told her she was an arrogant and conceited girl who looked down on each and everybody, while Miss Bingley and the Hurst’s had attested her to be a very amiable creature, something she had not given any credit. With seeing Mr. and Mrs. Hurst in a new light though, she was sure she would find Georgiana Darcy exactly the way them and her aunt had described her.
And indeed, had she not been sixteen, Elizabeth was sure, Miss Darcy would have hidden behind the nearest sofa, only to peek over its backrest once in a while before hiding again. But there she stood, framed by her two cousins to one side and her brother on the other. Miss Anne de Bourgh, was a lean and willowy woman with reddish hair and a very pale complexion which only failed to look sickly because her cheeks wore a healthy blush and a few lasting freckles still lingered on her nose, remnants of her days in the sun during summer, while Richard Fitzwilliam was a tall man with a pleasant if somewhat plain face. He wore a colonel’s uniform and looked quite dashing, Lydia would have been very impressed. But alas, he had only eyes for his beloved, and once in a while for the rest of his family.
Miss Darcy herself was a tall girl, with womanly grace and lovely golden blond hair, but the same dark eyes as her brother’s. She was almost as beautiful as Jane as she stood there smiling coyly and yet with honest warmth. Too timid to speak, she still followed the conversation carefully and whenever Elizabeth or Lady Catherine tried to draw her into it, she answered very demurely.
The invitation to dinner by Mr. Bingley, who was somewhat disappointed to not have his betrothed by his side, too, was readily accepted, and only Miss Bingley was absent from the table, having locked herself into her room ever since she had found out about Elizabeth’s and Darcy’s engagement. It was quite odd, but suddenly Elizabeth felt at ease and quite comfortable sitting here at the table at Netherfield.
“So, it is you I have to thank for this young lady becoming my niece shortly?” Mr. Hurst was addressed by Lady Catherine. “I am most grateful. You nephew are in desperate need of a wife. You start to turn dour and sarcastic, like me.”
While at that everyone chuckled, Darcy himself blushed slightly as he cast his eyes towards his betrothed.
“Yes, that was my doing.” Hurst readily admitted, still grinning widely. “I hardly ever venture to trouble myself about other people, but had I not acted these two would have needed a long time to figure out they suit each other perfectly. And as you said yourself, he really starts to turn dour. So, instead of wasting your time, Darcy old friend, you can now begin to fill the halls of Pemberley with children’s laughter.”
“Hurst, really!” the thus addressed blushed even deeper, and it was quite a sight to see the austere Mr. Darcy so flustered.
“But he is right, Darcy, you know. Sometimes all it needs is a little nudge in the right direction. By the way, were is the young lady whose machinations started all this happiness?” her Ladyship’s sarcastic undertone in asking the latter was unmistakable.
“My sister claimed a headache and is upstairs in her room. If you like I could accompany you to her as soon as we have finished.” Louisa Hurst replied, still not really comfortable with what her actions had brought about.
“If you please. It seems my parson is willing to do his duty, but honestly, as silly as he is he is a good soul, even though he on occasion has to be reminded of his duties to the less fortunate. As a study of character he is a most interesting specimen who always manages to surprise me.”
“So that is why you have given him the living?” Darcy mused, a knowing grin on his flushed face.
“Not solely. I lost a bet with the archbishop.” his aunt replied dryly.
George Hurst, who had been about to take a sip of his wine, at hearing this, spilled the red liquid all over the table cloth so hard was he laughing.
“Milady, on my word you should come to London. With you in attendance even an evening at Almack’s would actually be a pleasant thing.”
“I thank you, young man, but I prefer the country. At my age and in my position I am most happy meddling around where it is least expected.” Lady Catherine replied and winking she added: “And for the moment at any rate I am quite busy planning two weddings.”
“Aunt...”
“Oh, keep quiet Darcy and eat up.”
Chapter 18
♥♥♥
No-one answered to her knock and Louisa Hurst became concerned. What if her sister had done something to harm herself? No, that was not likely. Caroline would never do such a stupid thing. Harm others, yes, but never herself. Impatiently she knocked again and again till she was literally hammering against the door with both her fists.
“Me thinks the lady is absent.” Lady Catherine remarked dryly, standing to the side.
“But she must be there. The door is locked. Where else would she be?” Louisa cried frantically, close to tears.
Bending down the older woman peeked through the keyhole.
“The bed is untouched and no-one is in there. Only a battered looking dress in a rather garish bright green is lying on the bed, with what seems to be a letter on top. And at any rate, the door appears to be locked from the outside. The key is not in the lock where it should be.”
“And now?”
“Footman, could you please break down the door?” Lady Catherine called down the stairs.
It was done in mere minutes and with some dreadful anticipation Mrs
. Hurst broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
Sister dearest,
as I cannot possibly be married to this simple minded country parson, honourable as he might be, I will leave all my family behind and try and find my happiness elsewhere. I never knew I was such a burden to you and your husband, but why did you never tell me so? Then again, I might not have listened. It seems to be a habit of mine. Perhaps you have said so and I did not pay any attention. Who knows? And now at any rate, it is too late. We have each grown so tired of one another, so resentful, that for some time it might be better we not meet.
Do not worry however, I am taken care off. Perhaps we deserve one another, perhaps not, but as I am in need of a husband lest I am ruined and Mr. Wickham, who has as of today resigned from the militia, is in equally desperate need of my 20.000 Pounds I should think we will do quite well together. He is most charming after all and maybe we will be able to establish a little business – perhaps in Cheapside, next to Miss Eliza’s uncle’s business. Seems an appropriate spot, do you not agree?
As I am off age we will acquire a special license and marry in town Saturday fortnight. If you would like to attend you are welcome to do so, I shall send you the particulars.
Send my love to Charles and Miss Bennet and my regards and best wishes to Mr. Darcy and Miss Eliza, I wish them all the happiness they deserve.
Your loving, though often failing sister
Caroline
With tears streaming down her face Mrs. Hurst leaned into her husband.
“There - there,it looks as if everything will turn out well.” Lady Catherine remarked consolatory, having glanced over the lady’s shoulder to read the letter likewise.
“It seems that she has swallowed this bitter pill and is on her way to recovery. She was rather quick with it, I have to say, considering her initial determination. But many women are once they have made up their mind, are they not? Of course she will have her hands full with George Wickham, but she has landed herself a very charming husband, no two ways about it, and from what I have heard she seems to be the kind of woman well able to handle him. - And vice versa.”
“Amen!” Fitzwilliam Darcy muttered under his breath, but not so quietly that it had not been heard by the woman on his arm, who struggled to suppress a chuckle, whispering into his ear: “But not as charming as my husband will be.”
This remark was more than Fitzwilliam Darcy was able to resist.
Whispering back he enquired: “So, you think me charming?”
“Yes, quite charming.” Elizabeth smiled. “Ever since I saw you smile and heard you laugh.”
“Good.” he mumbled, the word almost lost as he bend his head and to his betrothed’s utter shock kissed her on the mouth, all the while pulling her indecently close, ignoring the people around them.
Never in his life had he done something this daring, but it felt astonishingly good. Especially as Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, kissed him back after her initial surprise.
At last they broke apart when they heard someone clear his throat. George Hurst grinned at them before remarking: “When I said you can now begin to fill the halls of Pemberley with children’s laughter I did not mean for you to start right now and especially not right here, Darcy.”
“Thank goodness the boy has some passion in him. Who would have thought, as stiff as he always is?” Lady Catherine mumbled, ignoring the double entendre of her words while at the same time making her nephew wanting to bury his face in his hands in embarrassment as everyone, safe for Elizabeth who fortunately did not seem to know what was so funny about the lady’s remark, burst out laughing.
Well, no matter, he would kiss her again any time, anywhere anyway - stiff or not.
Chapter 19
♥♥♥
The coaching inn was busy and not very comfortable, but the food was decent enough and Mr. Wickham as company was surprisingly pleasant. Here Caroline Bingley sat in her plainest dress and hair tied into only a simple bun, a few strands escaping it, and still her heart was surprisingly light. She had not felt this light and carefree in a very long time, if ever. For sure, Mr. Wickham was a scoundrel, but at least he was a very charming one, other than this Mr. Collins. He amused her, and if she took good care she would certainly steer him in the right direction. Her money might be his after their wedding, and once his debts had been paid off there would not be too much left of it, but the idea with the shop increasingly appealed to her somehow, even though it had only been written as an off hand remark in her letter to Louisa, originally not meant to be taken seriously. But the closer they got to London the more of what would become of them in the future occupied her mind. Society might frown upon her, but so would she on society. Ha!
Was it not funny how something, that only a few days ago would have sounded atrocious, could grow on one in such a short time? But desperate times needed desperate measures, and if one got to work instead of fret, all the better. Caroline had never been sentimental after all. Her pride had been hurt, but her heart was intact.
It was not Miss Bingley alone who noticed the change in herself, Mr. Wickham did, too, and smiling he thought to himself that perhaps for this woman it might even be worth sobering up. If at least once in a while and only a little. She was pretty, intelligent and cunning, yet there was a surprising innocence about her, hidden underneath her cold façade, that was most alluring. When he had first met her he did not notice it, but now there sat a woman whose company he actually enjoyed. Who needed those Hertfordshire country misses, when one could have this most intriguing lady? Intriguing in the most literal sense even. Not him.
They arrived in London in the late afternoon and took a room in yet another small inn in Cheapside, far away from the streets she knew so well. But she had been persistent in avoiding the more fashionable part of town as she did not want to meet any of her former acquaintances, who would be friends no longer. No, her life would have to drastically change and the sooner it did, the better it was. There was no use in being sentimental. It would do nothing but give her wrinkles and grey hair.
To her great delight, the very next day as they went for a stroll, mainly because the inn had little to offer to occupy them, Caroline spotted some fine looking empty premises down in Fenchurch Street, and ever so eager to do what she had decided upon she promptly made up her mind to open a little tea parlour there. Something which seemed to be missing in this part of town. All the merchants wives around would surely be very grateful to them for providing a proper place for gossiping.
At first Wickham had been shocked to hear about her plans, but soon relented, as he had little choice in the matter. After all, it were his debts that had reduced their means even before their marriage, though he could not quite bring himself to regret any of the actions that had led to the accumulation of them. And so, applying to the owner, Caroline Bingley took the rooms immediately, much like her brother had taken possession of Netherfield not three months ago, moving into the small flat above the business straight away. And a comfortable flat it was and in good time she would make it a home, warm, comfortable and elegant.
It was something of a challenge to get up in the morning and make her own breakfast and then go downstairs to oversee the work done there and furnish her new establishment, but never in her life had Caroline Bingley gone to bed at night feeling so thoroughly at ease and proud of what she had achieved in the day. Perhaps this had always been her true destiny. While she worked ceaselessly, Wickham was occupied with charming the local ladies into their business, and by the beginning of their second week they were able to serve their first customers, two surprisingly fashionable ladies, one of them being Mrs. Gardiner, wife of Mr, Gardiner owner of ‘Trollope and Gardiner’. Now was that not a coincidence? Perhaps, if she was smart enough, she might make something out of the connection. One never knew. Maybe a little investment some time in the future? She just needed to be careful that Wickham did not get wind of it and spend all the potential royalties well in advance. No, sneaking som
e money past him would probably a good plan. Just in case.
Eventually her wedding day came, surprisingly fast even, as Caroline had been so busy she had hardly realised how quickly the time had passed. And suddenly her brother and sister arrived to attend the ceremony. The austere Miss Bingley was quite touched to see her siblings, though Mrs. Hurst looked rather wary, unsure of how she would be welcomed, while Charles, as was his nature, was more relaxed, if perhaps a bit baffled as he entered their small tea parlour to find a beaming bride and a fairly nervous looking groom. It was clearly not what either of them had expected. But there they were in their best dresses ready to speak their vows. With her brother acting as best man this was soon done and setting off towards their rented rooms above the little shop it was a plain but merry party.
“You know Louisa, you are right, I would never have been this happy had my plan worked out. I would have known Mr. Darcy had not chosen me and he would never have loved me. With my George at least I know we are dependent on one another, and he does seem to cherish me, do you not?” raising a teasing eyebrow Mrs. Wickham turned towards her new husband who smiled contently.
