Elizabeth Bennet's Excellent Adventure: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary

by Regina Jeffers

  “I fear not, Captain,” she said without turning her head in his direction. “I must return shortly to my father’s household. My world ends at these shores.”

  The captain edged nearer still.

  “You possess other alternatives, Mrs. Bryland.”

  Swallowing her pride, Elizabeth turned to look up into the captain’s weathered countenance.

  “You are one of the kindest gentlemen of my acquaintance, Sir, and I can never repay you for the protection you extended upon my behalf, but I would be remiss if I permitted you to extend your protection beyond my stay in Portsmouth. In two days time, I shall reclaim my childhood home and accept my role in life.”

  Wentworth scowled with her declaration.

  “You are a vibrant woman, Mrs. Bryland, and it would be against all things holy for you to know a life of doldrums. Do you hold no aspirations to marry again?”

  Elizabeth could not stifle the sigh that rushed to her lips.

  “I once considered myself the pragmatic one in my family, but I fear I am as consumed with stories of knightly heroes as my sisters.”

  The captain’s ironic humor returned.

  “I cannot imagine Mr. Darcy in chain mail.”

  Elizabeth accepted the image as her own.

  “You err, Captain. Mr. Darcy possesses all the qualities of Sir Gawain of King Arthur’s table. Do you not recall Sir Gawain’s honor when tempted by the Green Knight’s wife? Gawain even wore the girdle he accepted as protection against the Green Knight as a symbol of the temptation to which he succumbed. Mr. Darcy protects all who mean to bring deception to those he affects and even to those he does not.”

  “You hold Mr. Darcy in regard?” the captain questioned.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes against the truth: Despite her best efforts, her bottom lip trembled, and she paused to gather her composure before continuing.

  “I did not think it possible,” she admitted. “Have you ever known deep affection, Captain?”

  Surprisingly, Wentworth flinched. Elizabeth’s question evidently lanced a wound the captain did not wish to reopen.

  “I did not mean to press you,” Elizabeth said in consideration.

  Wentworth shook off her apology.

  “It is only fair. I asked of your attachment to Mr. Darcy.”

  He gazed at Elizabeth with uncertainty.

  “There was a woman,” he said in reflection, “some six years prior. Our relationship was short lived–the matter of only a few months. I spoke of Miss Anne to no one beyond my brother Edward, not even to Harville or Benwick.”

  “Sometimes it is easier to share with strangers what we cannot say to those we trust most.” Elizabeth managed a weak smile. “Did the lady refuse you?”

  She knew something of the sting of refusal.

  “Not initially,” Wentworth admitted, at length. “She was the daughter of a baronet, and I had yet to know either my current rank or the fortune I earned as prize money for French captures. Miss Anne was persuaded to give me up.”

  Air seeped slowly from Wentworth’s lungs.

  Elizabeth spoke in irony.

  “Did I ever tell you Mr. Darcy’s maternal uncle is an earl and the gentleman can trace his ancestral roots back some six hundred years?”

  Wentworth cocked a brow.

  “That explains much of the gentleman’s demeanor.”

  Elizabeth presented him a long, slow look.

  “We are a miserable pair, are we not, Captain?”

  Darkness appeared to burn Wentworth’s soul, and Elizabeth wondered if she would one day know similar emotions.

  “We are a pair, Mrs. Bryland, and I would consider it an honor if you would permit me to show you something of the world.”

  Mayhap if the captain addressed his offer to Elizabeth Bennet rather than to the fictitious Mrs. Bryland, Elizabeth might have thought twice before refusing. Captain Wentworth would make some woman an excellent husband, but it would not be she. Her heart was engaged elsewhere.

  Although she never thought of herself as fanciful, Elizabeth could not settle for anyone other than the author of a love letter tucked away in her traveling case. She never dreamed of a man who could inspire her feminine hopes, but Elizabeth discovered him in the form of the Master of Pemberley.

  Elizabeth could feel the captain’s gaze heating her face. Her heart pinched at the ache gnawing away in her chest.

  “I thank you for your thoughtfulness, Captain, but I would prefer to think of you knowing the contentment of a woman who returns your affection. I am very fond of you, but I am resolved to return to my father’s household. I owe my parents my allegiance.”

  Dutifully, Wentworth escorted Elizabeth upon her return to the Harvilles’ residence. No more was said of the gentleman’s offer. Instead, the captain told her of his latest command, The Resolve.

  “It is a fine sloop, so much better than any I captained previously.”

  They approached the Harvilles’ door, and Elizabeth glanced up to note a familiar carriage upon the street. She stumbled to a halt and clutched at the captain’s arm for support.

  “What is amiss, Ma’am?” the captain asked in concern.

  “A carriage from home,” Elizabeth murmured.

  Releasing her hold on Wentworth’s arm, she rushed through the Harvilles’ entrance. With each step, Elizabeth pronounced a silent prayer that something ill did not plague Mr. Darcy. Odd, she thought. In less than a month the man became more important to her than her immediate family.

  “Mr. Bingley,” she said as she entered the parlor. “I did not expect to find you here. I pray all is well in Hertfordshire.”

  Elizabeth bit her tongue to keep from saying, And Derbyshire.

  “I am sent to fetch you home, Mis… Mrs. Bryland.”

  Elizabeth’s breath caught in her chest. So, Mr. Darcy schooled his friend in Elizabeth’s deception.

  She swallowed her anxiety from a few moments prior.

  “Permit me to give you the acquaintance of my escort, Captain Wentworth, and then you may explain your charge from my family.”

  Bingley glanced to the captain in disapproval before agreeing to Elizabeth’s stipulations.

  “Certainly.”

  He bowed to the room.

  Elizabeth turned to Wentworth.

  “Captain, may I present my eldest sister’s particular friend, Mr. Bingley.”

  She would not customarily add the description to her introduction, but after spending nearly a fortnight in Wentworth’s company, Elizabeth knew the captain would not easily leave her unless he thought Elizabeth safe in Bingley’s care.

  “Mr. Bingley, my recent acquaintance, Captain Wentworth of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

  Bingley said all that was necessary, as did the captain before Wentworth excused himself.

  With Wentworth’s exit, Elizabeth directed Bingley to return to his seat.

  “Speak to me what brings you after me. Is it Papa? Jane? I assume Mr. Darcy sent you to find me.”

  Bingley shot a quick glance to the still open door before lowering his voice.

  “Miss Bennet and your father are in health,” he assured, “but Jane requires your assistance with Mrs. Bennet and the neighborhood.”

  Elizabeth frowned deeply.

  “I do not imagine I could be of service.”

  “You do not understand. Mr. Bennet and Colonel Forster are in Brighton, while Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam are to London. They search for Mr. Wickham.”

  Elizabeth sucked in a ragged breath.

  “What offense has Mr. Wickham offered Mr. Darcy this time?”

  “It is not Darcy who Wickham insults,” Bingley protested. “It is your family. Wickham and Miss Lydia ran off. The initial thought was they would travel to Scotland, but that has not occurred.”

  “I do not understand,” Elizabeth began.

  Bingley hastened his response.

  “We possess time enough to detail all that occurred on our return to Hertfordshire. How q
uickly may you be prepared to depart? I promised Miss Bennet we would return in a timely manner. Unfortunately, I was delayed overnight near Reading because of an issue with the coach’s back wheel. If we depart soon, we could be at Longbourn before midnight.”

  Elizabeth stood to do as Mr. Bingley bid.

  “I shan’t be long. I planned to travel to Longbourn in two days’ time, and so I previously organized my things. I shall hurry.”

  Bingley followed Elizabeth to her feet.

  “Everything will be well. Darcy and Mr. Bennet will discover a means to bring Wickham up to snuff.”

  A few minutes later found her folding the last of her items to place them in her traveling trunk; Elizabeth’s mind raced from one point to another.

  How did Mr. Darcy become involved in her family’s business? Did he depart Portsmouth specifically to aid her father? Could the gentleman’s actions mean Mr. Darcy still cared for her?

  Would her father know disappointment with her deception?

  What if Mr. Wickham refused to oblige his duties to Lydia? And even if Mr. Wickham acted with honor, how could Mr. Darcy think to continue his understanding with her if Wickham was to be the gentleman’s brother in marriage?

  Elizabeth feared giving her hopes free rein again, and so she pulled harder against her defenses.

  As Elizabeth made her farewells to the Harvilles and Captain Wentworth, she knew guilt for not worrying more upon what Lydia suffered. Yet, her relationship with Mr. Darcy held precedence. As she threw a retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of contradictions and varieties, she sighed at the perverseness of those feelings would now promote its continuance and would formerly rejoice in its termination.

  Wishes for the gentleman’s presence at her side proved vain, and the most Elizabeth could achieve was to amuse herself with them in the hurry and confusion of their departure from Portsmouth. Had Elizabeth been at leisure to be idle, she would remain certain that all employment was impossible to one so wretched as she. Less than an hour saw the whole completed, and there was nothing to be done but to go. Elizabeth, after the tension of the morning and a refusal of Captain Wentworth’s honest proposal, found herself, in a shorter space of time than she could suppose, seated in Mr. Bingley’s carriage and on the road to Longbourn.

  Chapter Twelve

  “First, we should seek out Cowan to learn what he discovered on Mr. Sloane,” the colonel reasoned.

  Darcy and Fitzwilliam arrived in London to organize their search for Mr. Wickham. Uncharacteristically, they argued upon their return to Darcy House.

  “What will you do if Wickham abandons Miss Lydia?” the colonel asked after they greeted Georgiana.

  Exhausted by the drama of the situation with the attack upon his person and the resulting disappearance of Elizabeth from Hertfordshire, Darcy spoke with more venom than he intended.

  “I assume you wish to know if I intend to keep my commitment to Miss Elizabeth if her younger sister knows ruination.”

  The colonel’s inflection rose in challenge.

  “Will you?”

  Darcy glanced away from his cousin’s steady gaze. His mouth assumed a grim line.

  “Tell me, Colonel, if it were Georgiana who knew ruination at Wickham’s hands, would you and the rest of the Fitzwilliam family turn from my sister?”

  “Wickham took advantage of Georgiana’s immaturity,” his cousin argued.

  “And I assure you, Miss Lydia holds not a fraction of Miss Darcy’s good sense, and Elizabeth’s sister is but months Georgiana’s senior.”

  “You will welcome the chit into your family?” Fitzwilliam accused.

  Darcy heaved a sigh of resignation.

  “I will assist Mr. Bennet in securing Miss Lydia’s future.”

  “What if Mr. Bennet insists that Mr. Wickham marry Miss Lydia? Will you call Wickham ‘brother’? Will you force Georgiana to call Wickham ‘brother’?”

  Darcy conscience lashed him.

  “I will speak to Georgiana of the possibility of a distant alliance to Mr. Wickham.”

  “The man’s debtors will forever be at your door begging for succor!” Fitzwilliam protested.

  “Do you think I am not often plagued with such pleas?” Darcy countered. “Nothing will change except I will have Elizabeth at my side.”

  Wariness draped his cousin’s expression.

  “You affect the woman that much?”

  A tiny tendril of emotion wormed its way into Darcy’s being, and a smile claimed his lips.

  “Miss Elizabeth is my heart of hearts.”

  * * *

  Once upon the road Mr. Bingley wasted no time in describing Lydia’s foolish decision to elope with Mr. Wickham. Initially, Bingley “danced around” the more scandalous assumptions her father and Mr. Darcy made, but Elizabeth insisted upon knowing the absolute truth.

  At length, she asked the question to which she most desired to know the answer.

  “How did Mr. Darcy become involved in my father’s business?”

  “Darcy sent Colonel Fitzwilliam to deliver his apologies to you and your relatives after the colonel and Miss Darcy recovered Darcy from a farm some ten miles removed from London.”

  “I know nothing of a farm,” Elizabeth admitted. “What was Mr. Darcy doing outside of London? Did he mean to hide until Mr. Bennet’s ire subsided?”

  Why she never asked of what detained Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth held no idea except to present credit to her stubborn denials.

  “Does this have something to do with the bruises upon Mr. Darcy’s cheeks?” she asked in regret.

  Elizabeth assumed the marks were the result of some altercation at one of Mr. Darcy’s clubs or perhaps time spent in fisticuffs under the watchful eye of Gentleman Jackson.

  “Four men accosted Darcy outside a jeweler’s shop. After a physical beating,” Bingley explained, “the men bound and blindfolded Darcy and left him to die in the woods outside the Capital. According to the colonel, Darcy’s ribs were badly bruised and cracked. Did you not notice the remnants of his cut lip and eye?”

  She lifted her head to look upon Bingley’s familiar countenance.

  “I did not wish to see the obvious,” Elizabeth murmured.

  What she assumed as untruths proved to be reality.

  “Again, how did Mr. Darcy become involved in Lydia’s recovery?”

  Elizabeth would spend time in deep consideration of the abuses she flung at Mr. Darcy’s head, but for now she needed to concentrate on something other than how thoroughly she ruined her chances with the gentleman.

  “When Fitzwilliam informed Darcy that you departed Longbourn, Darcy sought you out at the Gardiners’ residence only to learn you took a carriage to a coaching inn upon the Hertfordshire route.”

  “Did Mr. Darcy and the colonel travel to Brighton to find me, thinking I sank into a tryst with Mr. Wickham?” Elizabeth demanded.

  Although the evidence was most compelling in his favor, she did not wish to find Mr. Darcy completely blameless. Elizabeth’s pride demanded she find another with whom to discover fault.

  “The colonel traveled to Brighton to learn something of Wickham and the man that arranged an attack on Wickham,” Bingley explained. “Unfortunately, the assailants mistook Darcy for Mr. Wickham. From what I know the colonel was several days in Brighton before Darcy arrived.”

  Elizabeth released her breath in a frustrated sigh. She possessed no idea who or what to believe.

  “Then it was only Mr. Darcy who held no faith in me?”

  Mr. Bingley’s brow wrinkled in disapproval.

  “Darcy affects you, Miss Elizabeth,” he said in defense of his friend. “But even if Darcy did not know jealousy, how could you think he would act otherwise. In truth, Miss Bennet wondered aloud if you thought to reclaim Mr. Wickham’s attentions while you were in London. If your most cherished sister holds such thoughts, how could you imagine that others would not do so likewise. You made it quite apparent that you considered Mr.
Wickham the superior choice.”

  Regret crept deeper into Elizabeth’s being: Her impetuous actions would be easily misconstrued. If she did not run away from her misery, this separation from Mr. Darcy would not be resolved.

  “None of us realized,” Bingley continued, “you thought to go to Brighton until Colonel Fitzwilliam returned to Netherfield, and the colonel only confided in me when we learned of Miss Lydia’s elopement. Fitzwilliam assisted in locating the woman with whom you exchanged your fares. The colonel says Darcy was frantic in his search for fear you would encounter danger upon your journey.”

  Bingley’s words brought another round of self-doubt to Elizabeth’s already confused thoughts. She attempted one more sally against Mr. Darcy.

  “I am Mr. Darcy’s property,” she said in disillusionment.

  Bingley’s mouth tightened into a firm line.

  “I never heard such foolish talk coming from you, Miss Elizabeth. Darcy offers you an exulted position in Society. He rebukes the criticisms of those who would claim your connections below his. Do you not recognize how Darcy meant to protect you by traveling to Portsmouth? It was fortunate that Darcy held a prior acquaintance of the Harvilles. Placing you with the family of friends protected you until the exchange of vows.”

  Ah, Elizabeth thought, so Mr. Darcy took credit for the Harvilles’ benevolence.

  “Darcy’s search was more than a resentful man reclaiming his recalcitrant intended. Darcy had no means of knowing if Sloane’s attack upon him was an aberration or whether you, too, were in danger by association with him and Mr. Wickham. It was brilliant to have you assume the name of Bryland. If news of your retreat becomes common knowledge, a ready excuse will protect your reputation. Darcy considers only your well being.”

  Elizabeth grew quiet after that. She realized Bingley only repeated what Mr. Darcy told him, but Mr. Bingley’s estimations ate away at Elizabeth’s purpose. Was there any truth in Bingley’s assumption that Mr. Darcy affected her?

  They traveled as expeditiously as possible and reached Longbourn earlier than expected. It was a comfort to Elizabeth to consider that Jane was not wearied by long expectations.