Darcy and the Wrong Miss Bennet

by Jane Grix

  Elizabeth smiled. “They say silence can be golden.”

  “Indeed,” Mrs. Reynolds said with approval.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  In the afternoon, Elizabeth wished to take a walk outside, and Georgiana offered to accompany her. Lydia said it was too cold so she would stay inside and play cards with Mrs. Annesley. Mrs. Bennet decided to take a nap.

  Elizabeth and Georgiana bundled up with long pelisses, scarves and heavy gloves. As they walked about the frozen grounds of Pemberley, their breath came out in white puffs. They talked about the weather and books, and then about music. Georgiana pointed out her favourite views, and Elizabeth made her laugh by suggesting histories for the various marble statues in the rose garden. “I think this gentleman is wanting a winter coat,” she said, pointing to one half-dressed statue with snow on his shoulders. “And that one over there looks as if he has indigestion.”

  Georgiana giggled. “You are much different from your sister, I think.”

  “We look alike, but inside we are very different,” Elizabeth agreed.

  “I always wanted a sister,” Georgiana said. “You are blessed to have four.”

  “And you are blessed to have a brother,” Elizabeth returned. “I always wanted a brother.”

  Georgiana explained that after her father’s death Mr. Darcy and her Cousin Richard were her guardians. “William has become a father to me, as well as a brother.”

  Elizabeth noticed that she called her brother William, which was a smaller mouthful than Fitzwilliam. She said, “My father takes little interest in his children, but I sense that your brother takes his role more seriously.”

  “He does. He worries about me and wants me to be happy. But he is very generous. He is forever finding things to give me pleasure. For Christmas, he gave me a new pianoforte.”

  Elizabeth said, “What an excellent brother. I also know that when he was at Netherfield that he wrote to you.”

  “When he is away, he writes once or twice a week.”

  That was kind of him, Elizabeth thought. She said, “My sister Jane writes to me but not as often.”

  They walked in silence for a while, and then Georgiana said awkwardly, “At Meryton, do you often see Mr. Wickham?”

  “It depends upon our social obligations. My Aunt Philips and her husband regularly invite the officers to dine.”

  Georgiana said, “I only mention him because I feel that I should warn you.”

  Elizabeth said, “Your brother has already warned me. He said that Wickham is not to be trusted.”

  Georgina looked worried. “What did he tell you?”

  “Nothing in particular. He merely said that Wickham had been known to take advantage of young ladies.”

  Georgiana said slowly, “That is true. He tried to take advantage of me.”

  “Oh no,” Elizabeth breathed out. This could explain Georgiana’s reaction to Wickham’s portrait.

  Georgiana explained, “It happened last summer. I was in Ramsgate with Mrs. Younge, one of my teachers, on a holiday and Wickham met me. I had not seen him for several years, not since my father died, and he said I had grown up into a beautiful young woman. He flattered me and talked about Pemberley and . . .” Her voice faltered. “He said he loved me, and I thought I loved him.”

  Elizabeth felt a sense of dread.

  “He said that William would never approve of our getting married, so we had to elope.”

  “Good heavens.” Georgiana must not know of the rumours of Wickham’s parentage, or perhaps that had merely been a lie to gain Lydia’s sympathy.

  Georgiana said, “I was young and foolish, so I agreed, but fortunately William came to visit the day before we meant to leave. I couldn’t bear to deceive him, so I told him about our plans.”

  “And your brother put an end to it,” Elizabeth guessed.

  “Yes. Mrs. Younge was dismissed, and I was sent to Pemberley. William spoke to Wickham and told him to never speak to me again or he would have him arrested.”

  “It sounds like you had a fortunate escape.”

  Georgiana nodded. “I did. William says that Wickham only wanted my dowry, which is thirty thousand pounds.”

  Elizabeth had never thought that it would be difficult to be wealthy, but she had sympathy for Georgiana. How could a wealthy woman trust that any man would love her for herself? The moment she married, her wealth would become her husband’s property. She said, “Mr. Wickham is a very charming man. It is completely understandable that you would trust him.”

  “But I never should have agreed to an elopement.”

  Perhaps not, but Georgiana had been only fifteen years old. She said, “Well, you will be wiser now. And fortunately, nothing bad came from it.”

  “No, thank heavens.” Georgiana’s smile wavered. “Do you think less of me now?”

  Elizabeth hugged her. “No, of course not. I admire your honesty and appreciate the trust you have in me.”

  OVER THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, Elizabeth became even closer friends with Georgiana – often taking walks with her and playing duets in the evenings. Lydia, without Kitty or officers to entertain her, grew bored and irritated by the calm evenings at Pemberley. She had never been a great reader, and like her mother, she thrived on gossip. She and Kitty exchanged fat letters with each other, and she was envious of all the parties that Kitty described. She angrily threw the correspondence in the fireplace and said, “It is not fair. I haven’t had a dance in ages!”

  “Yes, dear,” Mrs. Bennet said. “But you are engaged, and Kitty is not.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if Kitty got herself a husband, too. With us gone, she is quite popular. Even Mary danced with Colonel Forster!”

  Mrs. Bennet said, “After you are married, as Mistress of Pemberley, you can give as many balls as you like.”

  Considering her future husband, Elizabeth thought that prospect unlikely.

  One evening after supper, Lydia yawned several times and then asked Mr. Darcy if he ever dined with his neighbours.

  He looked up from the book he was reading. “Once or twice a year,” he answered. Darcy rarely spoke directly to Lydia, but when questioned, he would answer her.

  “Is that all?”

  “When I am in the country, I appreciate my privacy,” he answered. He must have noticed her look of dismay, for he added, “If you marry me, you must be prepared for a quiet life.”

  She said, “B-But at Netherfield, you must have gone out four or five times a week.”

  Darcy said calmly, “Yes, but at Netherfield I was a guest.”

  “Don’t you enjoy visiting?”

  “Not particularly. I am not as sociable as Mr. Bingley.”

  Mrs. Bennet said quickly, “Don’t worry, Lydia, you will have many things to keep you occupied as Mistress of Pemberley. You will be choosing meals and supervising the servants.”

  “I don’t think that will take all my time.”

  “Then you can follow Georgiana’s example and take pianoforte lessons,” Darcy suggested.

  “But I don’t want to play the pianoforte!” Lydia said.

  “Or the harp,” Darcy added. “I will want my wife to perform when we do have company.”

  Lydia looked as if she wished to argue, but the steeliness in his tone kept her silent.

  Elizabeth thought that Darcy was baiting Lydia, painting the worst possible picture of their future life together.

  Lydia’s eyes suddenly brightened. “But we can always go to Town. You have a townhouse, do you not?”

  “I do. On Cavendish Square.”

  Lydia said, “We can go to the theatre and balls.”

  Darcy interrupted her. “Actually, I am considering renting out the townhouse for a few years.”

  Lydia blanched. “But why?”

  “One of the primary reasons for my going to London was to find a wife,” Darcy said. “If I have one, I have no need to go to Town.”

  Now Elizabeth knew he was purposely tormenting her sister. Lyd
ia asked, “But what about a season for Georgiana?”

  “That won’t happen for at least two years, and if necessary, my aunt Lady Matlock will handle it. There will be no need for us to go as well.”

  “So, no trips to London?” Lydia said weakly.

  “None that I anticipate.”

  “What about shopping?”

  “For what? You will have everything you need at Pemberley.”

  “New clothes.”

  Darcy said, “You appear adequately dressed as you are.”

  Georgiana looked nervously at Elizabeth as if she noticed the tension in the room.

  But Lydia was nothing if not determined. She said, “Yes, thank you. But eventually, I will need new clothes.”

  Mrs. Bennet agreed. “You can’t blame her, Mr. Darcy. My daughters have always dressed in the latest fashions.”

  He looked at her coolly. “I believe you have spoiled them, ma’am.”

  “And soon it will be your turn to spoil Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet said, striving for a light tone.

  “I have no intention of spoiling my wife.” The way Darcy said my wife, it sounded like a death sentence. He looked at Lydia closely. “You are of a similar size to my mother, and we have all her old clothes. I am certain one of the maids can alter them to fit you.”

  This statement was so appalling that even Mrs. Bennet could not think of an adequate response.

  Georgiana looked at her brother with disbelief.

  Lydia suddenly declared that she had a headache and asked to be excused for the evening. Mrs. Bennet twisted her hands together, then said that she would accompany her.

  “Good night, ma’am, Miss Lydia,” Mr. Darcy said, dismissing them.

  Elizabeth thought she would retire as well, but Darcy asked her to play a game of chess.

  “If you wish,” she said.

  “I do wish.”

  “Then good night, Mama, Lydia,” Elizabeth said. “I will join you later.”

  Within a few minutes, she and Darcy were again at the chess board. Mrs. Annesley sat at the pianoforte so she could turn pages for Georgiana as she played. Neither of them could hear what she and Darcy were saying.

  Elizabeth said quietly, “I think you are being very unkind to my sister.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Darcy looked into Elizabeth’s beautiful eyes. “I believe it is kind not to give her unreasonable expectations.”

  Elizabeth said, “If you think you can make her cry off, she won’t.”

  A man could only hope, but he knew that the odds of Lydia breaking their engagement were slim. He wished he could tell Elizabeth how he felt, but as an engaged man, he could not. As much as he hated it, he was morally bound to her sister. He said, “Let us play the game and talk of something else.”

  “Very well, but I have little small talk,” she said.

  “That is one of the things I like best about you.”

  She looked at him for a moment as if taking his measure, then lifted her chin slightly and said, “I received a letter from Jane today.”

  “Is she well?”

  “As far as I know,” Elizabeth said as she placed her chess pieces on the board. “She is currently in London, visiting my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in Gracechurch Street.”

  “Is she enjoying her visit?” He arranged his pieces as well.

  She said, “Not really. She called on Miss Bingley soon after she arrived and then waited another fortnight before Miss Bingley reluctantly returned the call. Apparently, Miss Bingley was uncivil and expressed no interest in seeing her again.”

  Darcy was not surprised that Miss Bingley did not want to further the acquaintance. He said, “Although your sister might rightfully be offended, perhaps it is for the best. Your sister deserves better friends than Miss Bingley.”

  “I agree, but that is not what concerns me.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Your friend, Mr. Bingley.”

  “What of him?”

  “He must know that my sister is in Town, and yet he has not called on her.”

  Darcy shrugged, wishing to avoid the topic. “He is a busy man.”

  “No,” Elizabeth said fiercely. “Do not prevaricate. Last year, your friend fell in love with my sister. He wanted to marry her, but you convinced him that my sister did not love him.”

  Darcy was startled. “How do you know that?”

  “Do you deny it?”

  “No, but –”

  “I overheard you in the garden at Netherfield. You purposely interfered and divided them.”

  “I admit that I wished to separate them, but I merely gave him my advice. I thought I was being kind.”

  “To make them both suffer the most acute misery?”

  Darcy blinked, astonished. “Are you implying that your sister cares for Mr. Bingley?”

  “Yes.”

  “She didn’t look as if she cared at all.”

  “Jane is nothing like Lydia. She is more reserved. She hides her feelings, but that does not mean that she doesn’t feel deeply. She loves Mr. Bingley, but you have ruined her hopes and made Mr. Bingley look capricious and instable.”

  “And you hate me for it.”

  “Can you blame me? How can I like a man who has destroyed my sister’s happiness?”

  Darcy saw now that he had been blind. He said, “If I have wounded your sister’s feelings, I apologize, but it was unknowingly done. I honestly thought that I was doing Bingley a favour.”

  “To break his heart?”

  Darcy shook his head. “Fine, then. I can make amends. I can write to Bingley and let him know your sister is in Town. I can give him her address and encourage him to call on her.”

  Elizabeth was surprised. “You would do that?”

  He wanted nothing more than to make Elizabeth look at him with approval. He said, “I will do more. I will even tell him that I may have been mistaken about her feelings for him.”

  She said, “Will he believe you?”

  “Bingley is a modest man and he values my opinions.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Very well, then. Please do write to him.”

  “I will. I will write to him tonight and it will be sent out tomorrow by express.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you. That is most generous of you.”

  Her praise was like a balm to his heart. He said, “You see? I can be kind.”

  ELIZABETH AND DARCY did not finish their game for they talked instead of playing, and then it was time to retire. Elizabeth walked upstairs to her bedroom, deep in thought. Mr. Darcy was not as arrogant as she had thought. He had separated Jane and Bingley, that was true, but he had his reasons. She could easily forgive a man who was willing to acknowledge his mistakes.

  Especially when he was willing to make amends by writing to Mr. Bingley.

  And as for his treatment of Lydia, perhaps it was best if he took a firm stand with her. Her father often spoke about setting limits for Lydia and Kitty, but in actuality, he let them run wild.

  When she reached the upper floor, she knocked on Lydia’s bedroom door to see if she was still feeling poorly.

  “Come in,” Lydia said, and Elizabeth walked in to find their mother in the room as well.

  “How are you feeling?” Elizabeth asked.

  Mrs. Bennet answered, “She is fine, if she will listen to reason.”

  Lydia folded her arms in front of herself. “I don’t care how rich Mr. Darcy is. I don’t want to marry him if I am going to live in a prison!”

  Elizabeth’s heart leapt. Was Lydia going to change her mind about marrying Mr. Darcy?

  Mrs. Bennett said, “I have never heard such nonsense. Pemberley is not a prison, and if you had an ounce of sense, you would count yourself fortunate. This is no time for foolishness.”

  “He wants me to wear his mother’s clothes!” Lydia wailed.

  Mrs. Bennet shook her head. “I know that is vexing, but until you are wed, you must do as he wishes. You need to smile and agree with eve
rything he says. That is how I secured your father.”

  Elizabeth had always wondered how two such dissimilar people had married and now she knew.

  Mrs. Bennet continued, “Once the ring is on your finger, you can do what you want. Within reason. A wise wife has many ways to get what she wants. For example, don’t complain of headaches lest he think you are sickly. You must save them for later, after the wedding.”

  Elizabeth wondered if that was why her mother complained of her nerves.

  Mrs. Bennet noticed Elizabeth’s look of distaste and said, “You think you will be above such stratagems, but one day you will thank me, Lizzy.”

  Elizabeth said, “I would rather be an old maid than win a husband with trickery.” She spoke without thinking and the moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew it was a mistake, for Lydia took offense.

  Lydia said stiffly, “Don’t be so high and mighty. I have noticed the way you flirt with him.”

  Elizabeth gasped. “I do not flirt with Mr. Darcy.”

  “Lydia, please,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Don’t be absurd. You know that Lizzy doesn’t like him. She never did.”

  Lydia pointed her finger at her and added, “Don’t forget that no matter what you do, Mr. Darcy is going to be my husband, not yours!”

  “Of course, he is,” Mrs. Bennet soothed. She waved her hand at Elizabeth to encourage her to leave the room. “But you need to be on your best behaviour, or he might change his mind.”

  This possibility chastened her. Lydia said quietly, “Yes, Mama. I will do better, I promise.”

  Elizabeth quickly retreated to her room where she dressed for bed and spent several hours staring at the ceiling.

  Was Lydia correct?

  Was she flirting with Mr. Darcy?

  She did not think so. Surely, she could acknowledge that the man had good qualities without being accused of setting her cap at him.

  But the idea that she could be in any way like Miss Bingley made her feel ill.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE