Mr. Darcy's Foreboding: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Glenna Mason

  But Wickham also knew that both he and Darcy, beneath their bluster and bombast, were still the soulmates of their youth. They had grown apart in most ways, but not in the depths of their hearts. He didn’t want to duel Darcy, and in reality Darcy did not want to duel him. It might end badly and leave a scar on their hearts for life.

  So Wickham decided that if he persisted in this enterprise, it would be with Lydia. Not only was she his easiest prey, since Lydia was clay in any man’s hands, she also would not be a kidnapping per se. He would convince her they were eloping and, when he received the ransom money, they would elope. Hence there would be only a minor infraction of thirty thousand pounds. By his surveillance, Wickham had confirmed his earlier suspicions that Darcy and the colonel both had a love affair going with the Bennet sisters. They would not wish to sully their own and the young ladies’ reputations by jailing their own future brother-in-law. Everything would end well. He would have his stake in life; Lydia would have a husband; Darcy and friends could go on with life as they chose it. Who knows—he and Lydia might be invited to Pemberley some day—after a lot of time had elapsed of course.

  So Wickham now apprehended that he would either elope with Lydia or forget the whole plan. His design was to somehow isolate Lydia and convince her that his former letter, in which he had callously called her silly, was a ploy to help them attain a better life together. If the opportunity arose and he was able to facilitate it without danger from Colonel Fitzwilliam, he would implement the strategy. If not, he would go back to cheating at cards, until something better came along.

  *****

  After tea and pastries, the entire party browsed for two hours through the marvelous displays of Greek and Roman sculptures and the Egyptian hieroglyphics at the British Museum, ending their tour at the Rosetta Stone.

  “We’d better go back. We have to bathe and change in time for a light supper. The Theatre Royal performance starts at eight,” Bingley finally said.

  “And we have to ride our horses back,” Elizabeth reminded them, “and some of us are slow.”

  “And some of us smell like horses,” Lydia chided.

  “I said we’d bathe, Miss Lydia,” Bingley apologized, missing the full intent of her taunt—that she’d been left out of some of the fun.

  “Mr. Gardiner is due for supper at seven. Miles, are you going to join us?”

  “I’d very much like that,” he said, glancing at Mary. “I brought dinner attire in a valise. Mr. Allen took it to a spare room for me.”

  When they arrived at Darcy House, the hall was filled with boxes labeled with each lady’s name. There was even one for Mrs. Gardiner. “What is this?” she said joyously.

  “Madame DePre checked with your modiste, Madame Cheri, and got your measurements. Jane and I selected colors and materials you like. Mr. Darcy wanted to surprise you with the same number of gowns he gifted us,” Elizabeth bragged, beaming.

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Madeline Gardiner said, kissing him on the cheek.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll get Mrs. Carter to organize the delivery to your rooms while you bathe. You will need one for Drury Lane tonight.”

  Tuesday, culminating with its sterling performance of Taming of the Shrew, seemed assured to be the highlight of the trip. That is, until Wednesday proved equally enchanting with another horseback ride in the park, stopping this time at book sellers and candy shops along the way, and concluding with a ten encore production of Handel’s Xerses. Both days had been full of new adventures for the Hertfordshire ladies and many moments to cherish.

  Darcy’s carriage picked up Mrs. Phillips at eight Thursday morning. Meanwhile Harvey delivered not only the luggage of Lydia and Mrs. Bennet, but also that of Jane to Darcy House. With her mother and sister off to the Barbary Hotel, Jane could no longer reside at Bingley’s townhouse with only Caroline as chaperone.

  When Mr. Phillips arrived Friday night, he would be the guest of Bingley. Then Mrs. Phillips would join him there, when Mrs. Bennet and Lydia returned to the Bingley townhouse Saturday night after the races; it was decided that Jane would not move again. “It is just too disconcerting for you, Miss Bennet,” Mr. Bingley had insisted, when Jane cringed at the thought of his attending to the other four alone. “We’ll be fine. It’s only one night.”

  “Very well. If you’re sure . . . “ she said, still hesitating.

  *****

  Wickham watched in amazement from across Park Lane when a carriage rounded the house and collected Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Phillips and Lydia. He wondered what was brewing, so he mounted Callie and followed the equipage to the Barbary Hotel. After he watched the ladies check in and get escorted from the lobby, presumably to their rooms, since bell caps accompanied them with trunks, Wickham queried the young lady at the front desk. “Two days residence,” he repeated. “May I join them?”

  “Gentlemen are only allowed in the evening,” the receptionist informed him with a slight sneer. “You need an invitation. They’re on the front table by the window. Just have the ladies endorse your visit.”

  “Oh, how magnanimous!” Wickham retorted sarcastically, heading for the elicited table.

  Wickham turned Callie toward Edward Street. On the way, he rented a shabby room in a cheap hotel for three nights, rent up front of course. His slim funds were getting slimmer. He probably had tonight alone to entice Lydia away from her mother and her aunt. Lydia’s ability to remain quiet about his suit being nonexistent, he would be banned from the premises on Friday he was sure. Tonight was the night: win, lose or draw. Wickham had drawn to all three, countless times in his life. Yet he’d never yet drawn an inside straight. It was time to do so or fold.

  *****

  After lunch the remaining Bennets joined Bingley, the Darcys and Colonel Fitzwilliam in the music room for a concert. Just as Mary was about to exhibit, promising to play Beethoven’s Eighth Sonata for Darcy, a knock sounded on the door. The footman announced, “Viscount Miles Heyburn, sir.”

  The gentlemen rose. “Welcome, Heyburn. Join us.”

  The Viscount bowed to the ladies and took a seat alone on a settee. Mary blushed a brilliant red and proceeded to present the performance of a lifetime. Elizabeth took a turn, asking Darcy to accompany her in a duet. Georgiana took over the keys and began with the lilting strains of the waltz.

  The gentlemen bravely rose. “Shall we waltz?” Darcy asked. All nodded in accord, and Mr. Bennet moved to the piano bench, turning the pages on cue, happy at the sight of his daughters twirling about the room.

  “One more, Georgiana please,” Darcy requested. She nodded and began to rummage through her sheet music. The lyrical melody soon filled the room and the dancing recommenced.

  Suddenly a loud commotion was heard in the front hall. “What could that be?” Darcy asked, with a wink to the colonel.

  “We shall soon see. The dance is just coming to a close.”

  The ladies in excitement raced from the room, knowing that some surprise was afloat. The gentlemen were just too coy and unconcerned. There on the floor five dress sized boxes resided.

  Darcy slipped away to the library, while the ladies searched to see if names were written on the boxes. He returned with a fistful of handwritten invitation.

  He handed them around to all those present and sent a reminder around to Gracechurch Street. The invitation read:

  You are invited to Derby House Park Lane

  Seven in the evening Thursday the 12th

  Dinner and Dancing

  Countess of Matlock Earl of Matlock

  Excitement reigned.

  Jane said to Bingley, “Mama and Lydia will miss the dance.”

  All he answered was a simple, “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  Kitty said, “I get to meet another Earl and Countess. How lovely. I truly enjoyed the Earl of Carlisle.”

  “My parents,” Richard informed her.

  “Oh?”

  “Miss Mary, may I have the pleasure of the opening reel?” the Visc
ount asked.

  “Oh!”

  Darcy took advantage of the pandemonium and invited Georgiana and Elizabeth to his library. “Georgiana, Elizabeth has agreed to marry me.”

  “Oh!!” She gathered them both in her arms. “How grand!”

  Mr. Bennet leaned against the newel post, enjoying the spectacle. Then creating a bigger one by saying, “I wonder what’s inside those big boxes.”

  Jane, Kitty and Mary couldn’t wait. They tore the wrapping off the boxes designated for them and pulled out blue, lavender and pink dinner dresses. They couldn’t even manage an “oh” they were so speechless.

  Georgiana and Elizabeth exited the library in time to see the three Bennet sisters, holding up their dresses, in wonder at their pulchritude. “I’ve never seen a lovelier gown,” Jane said. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

  The three sisters surrounded Darcy, who’d just stepped through the library door, and hugged him. Georgiana and Elizabeth whispered their thanks to Darcy and turned to walk together up the steps. They were going to surprise everyone when they walked down the stairs tonight. They’d not open their boxes yet. Soon the Viscount left and the others retired to their rooms for some leisure and rest. They wanted to be ready for a night of delight.

  Before he left the colonel advised Darcy that he would pick up Kitty in the Matlock carriage. Bingley arranged the same for Jane. The distance was too short to require a chaperone. A return note from the Gardiners expressed pleasure in the invitation and announced that they’d take their own carriage to Derby House. No one at Darcy House yet knew of course that Madeline Gardiner had received her own box moments ago.

  “Perfect,” Darcy said, counting elaborately on his fingers, and, smiling at Richard, “we’ll only need one Darcy conveyance for the five of us.”

  *****

  The Countess elected not to have a receiving line. She knew her friends. They knew her. She wanted to be free to converse with Miss Catherine and her family. This occasion was, after all, designed to get to know the Bennet sisters, who had taken her favorite young men by storm.

  A nice sized crowd, mostly friends of the Matlocks, but also a few sons and daughters of the peers as well, mingled in the hall, eating, drinking and chatting.

  Darcy asked Richard, as the two sipped a fine burgundy, “Is your brother, my cousin, the Viscount Osmond, here tonight? I haven’t seen him yet.”

  “It seems that my brother has been detained in the country,” Richard whispered.

  “Gambling?”

  “What else?”

  “Wine or women I suppose.”

  Richard ignored Darcy and said, “Pater doesn’t like it. He has cancelled Osmond’s allowance, so my brother is exiled in Derby.”

  “We could hook him up with Wickham,” Darcy kidded.

  “They’d make a good pair. They’re both broke. What would they gamble with?”

  “Our funds no doubt.” The two burst into spontaneous laughter.

  “No one has spoken for Lydia—well, except in some sense Wickham I guess—do you suppose . . . ?” Richard joshed.

  “Lydia would pounce on a title for sure.”

  “Not going to happen. We couldn’t even let Lydia be seen by my parents as a sister. A daughter—”

  “I’m not sure Mr. Bennet would approve of the Viscount either.”

  “Well, no. Can you blame him?”

  “We’ve had fun being silly; let’s go find our loves. The dancing should start soon.”

  *****

  Lady Matlock was entranced by the lovely Bennet sisters. First the beautiful blonde Jane introduced herself with her gentle soft voice and a smile to stop the heavens. Then Elizabeth, with her auburn tinted hair and her fine eyes, enchanted the Countess with her vivacity and esprit de corps for life in general. Next came Mary on her father’s arm: the perfect lady on the arm of the stalwart of the nation: the eccentric country gentleman. Finally the one she’d waited for: her future daughter, the mother of her grandchildren. She was not disappointed. Kitty immediately with the ingenuousness of a fairy princess captured the Countess’s heart with her ease of manner and her praise of the one topic the Countess could be counted on to countenance: the bravery and sacrifice of the young men who dedicated their lives to protecting our great nation.

  When Richard came to request the second dance with his mother, she asked, “When is the wedding?”

  At eight the Earl called for the dancing to begin. The gentlemen swooped up the ladies and led them to line up for the reel. The Earl and Countess were at the top of the line. Darcy was excited. Except for afternoon waltzes in the privacy of his and Bingley’s homes, he’d never had the pleasure of dancing with Elizabeth. He had refused her at the assembly, before she’d refused him. And since then, they’d been too occupied with various kidnappings to dance.

  “I imagine Lydia is dancing right now too. Even if she couldn’t be trusted at the Matlock’s party,” Elizabeth commented.

  “Yes, I’m sure she is. Dancing is a major attraction in the evenings at the Barbary Hotel.”

  *****

  Lydia was indeed dancing. She was in fact the belle of the ball. Most of the other ladies, be they princesses or no, were her mother’s age; hence the sprightly sixteen year old Lydia Bennet was much in demand.

  When Wickham arrived in top hat and tails, Lydia was dancing with a Count, who, much to the Count’s chagrin, was cut in on almost immediately by an elderly Duke. The Count moved to the side, seething. Lydia noticed and was pleased. “A Count who fancies me. How droll!” Lydia happily thought, as she captivated the Duke also.

  Wickham saw Mrs. Bennet and her sister, Mrs. Phillips, chatting happily at a table at the far end of the room. “Excellent,” he said.

  While Wickham waited for his chance with Lydia, he amused himself with expensive champagne and other French delicacies. A new idea formed. “Wonder if any of these more senior ladies are in need of a beau,” he mused. The problem was he had no way to find out in one evening. The Count and Lydia were again on the floor. Wickham decided not to cut in. The Count might call him out—he, after all, was no Duke. He’d ask her hand for the next. But the next came and Lydia and the Count stayed on the floor. “Oh, well,” Wickham said, “I’ll just have another champagne.”

  Finally the musicians broke for a glass of their own champagne, and Wickham followed Lydia to the veranda. “Miss Lydia, fancy meeting you here at the famous Barbary Hotel.”

  “Mr. Wickham, why are you here?”

  “Why, to find you, of course, lovely lady.”

  “Surely not.”

  “I never had a chance to explain that note. The one in which I called you silly. I didn’t mean it of course. You are everything that is lovely. It was a scam to obtain our funds to escape to the continent.”

  “I was silly to believe a cad like you.”

  “Now, Miss Lydia, don’t hurt me like that, I’d like to take you with me tonight. We can create a new note together to secure our future—together.”

  “No!”

  “No?”

  “No, Wickham, thirty thousand times no. It just so happens that the Count escaped the continent with his estate in full. He likes me.”

  “You prefer a foreigner to me?”

  “Yes!”

  Wickham bowed and left by the French doors. “Those French are everywhere,” he complained. “I don’t need that flea-ridden room now. I don’t suppose I can get my deposit back.” With that Wickham donned his top hat, retrieved Callie and rode home to Mrs. Edward’s boarding house.

  *****

  The next day Darcy awoke to a double surprise: Callie and a note from Wickham. The note read:

  Dear Fitz:

  I have returned Miss Callie. What a fine lady, better than most. I apologize for the anguish I have caused you over the past few months. Please apologize for me to Georgiana and the Bennets. I wish now that we were still friends.

  George

  As soon as Allen delivered the note with his morning t
ea, Darcy went down to the stables in his dressing gown and found Callie in a stall.

  Darcy stood quite still, thinking, “Is this a trick? If so, what kind?”

  He walked over to Callie and petted her on the nose. “You won’t blow up, girl, will you?”

  At breakfast that morning Cameron laid a salver by his plate with another note. It read:

  Mr. D: I thought you should know that Mr. Wickham came to the dance last night at the Barbary Hotel. I sent him scurrying. There is this Count that I prefer. Lydia

  “Of course,” Darcy replied to himself.

  When the colonel arrived at the table, Darcy asked, “After your breakfast, Richard, may we confer?”

  Noticing the opened letter, the colonel said, “Certainly, Darce. Bad news?”

  “No, actually I think not.”

  In the library over a second cup of tea, Darcy handed Richard both notes. After giving him time to peruse them, Darcy asked, “What do you think?”

  Richard thought for a moment, his brow creased. “He’s given up?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

  “There comes a time when the effort is no longer worth the prize.”

  “The old wind out of the sails saga?”

  “Exactly. Look at it from his perspective. He’s struggled for seven or eight years. All he wanted was a stake.”

  “Could you get him a commission in the regulars?”

  “Assuredly. I’d have to square him with Colonel Forster first, but I can do that easily. After all, it is I who lodged the complaint.”

  “I am going down to Edward Street this morning. Can Elizabeth ride with you and Miss Kitty? I’ll request that Georgiana stay with you three to assist.”

  “Certainly. I guess I’ll have to extend my leave.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “Oh well,” the colonel said with a smile. “Good thing the Prince decided to honor the Archbishop with his presence at the Saint Michael celebration. I’d have missed all this fun in boring old Bath.” He chuckled.