Mr. Darcy started at the rather bold look on her face and the decided impropriety of her question. Frowning at her, he warned, “Georgiana.” He watched determination set into her features and her eyebrows rise in challenge. He was not sure whether to rejoice at his sister’s budding confidence or reprove her for disregarding his censure. In the end, he relented as her look of determination reminded him a bit of an angry cat trying to be a tiger. He chuckled before answering her with a sigh. “Yes, dear, she is beautiful.” He paused as his mind brought Elizabeth’s lovely face before him and said quietly and more to himself, although his sister heard, “She is the most beautiful woman I know.”
Georgiana felt a sudden happiness such as she had not felt in a long time. When Wickham deceived her, she lost her faith in love. She lost her confidence in many things and still felt frustrated at her poor understanding and choices. She could not quite fathom why this woman, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, held her interest. Certainly, the fact that her brother had written of her was unique and intrigued her, but there was more. The more she learned of Elizabeth, the more she was determined to try to be like her. Watching her brother’s peaceful, faraway look as he spoke of Elizabeth made her wonder whether love was not such a terrible thing after all.
Darcy awoke from his spell when she remarked, “And so, she has four sisters. How nice for her. I always wanted a sister.”
Darcy frowned at her, even as he was a bit amused by her suggestive tone. All this talk of Elizabeth, although it seemed to make his sister happy, only served to sour his mood, and he determined to change the topic. They talked of other matters for a while longer before he took his leave to change out of his traveling clothes. Since that day, Georgiana had brought up the topic of Elizabeth Bennet a number of times.
A knock on his study door brought Mr. Darcy back to the present. He barely had time to bid, “Enter,” before the door swung open and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam pushed past the butler, essentially preempting his announcement of the colonel’s arrival.
“Darcy, you bore — when did you get back to London? I had to hear it from Mother, who, I can tell you, was not happy to have heard it first from a friend who saw you shopping with Georgiana yesterday.”
Mr. Darcy chuckled at his cousin’s ribbing and shook his hand. He turned to his chagrined butler and said, “You must forgive my cousin, Mr. Carroll; his manners are deplorable.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam feigned offense and turned to the butler while addressing his cousin’s barb. “Mr. Carroll and I have an understanding, don’t we, man? He knows I prefer to walk in unannounced.”
Mr. Carroll gave a proper bow and said, “Of course, sir.” Turning to his employer, he asked, “Will you be needing anything, sir?”
Mr. Darcy’s raised eyebrow sent a silent question to his cousin regarding refreshments. Upon seeing the colonel shake his head, he turned to his butler and said, “No, thank you, Mr. Carroll; that will be all.”
Mr. Carroll gave another quick bow and said, “Very good, sir,” before closing the door behind him.
Colonel Fitzwilliam burst into laughter. “I make him so mad every time. I do not understand why he still insists on trying to make it into the room to announce me before I do. But I tell you, Darcy, I have great sport with him over it. Today he nearly ran to stay ahead of me!”
“You are incorrigible! He is simply doing his job, and your deplorable manners are making it difficult for him. Besides, I think you try to annoy him on purpose.”
“Perhaps I do.” The two laughed as they took their seats. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam and his cousin Darcy had been the best of friends from childhood. Richard was a few years Darcy’s senior and, being of a naturally jovial sort, enjoyed teasing his younger cousin. Darcy’s somber personality made him an easy target, yet he never could be angry with his cousin for his pranks. As the two grew into manhood, their relationship remained essentially the same. Richard would tease and laugh at his cousin, who had learned to laugh at himself occasionally but pretended distaste for Richard’s behavior.
When the two cousins had settled into comfortable positions, the colonel enquired, “So, Darcy, where have you been these past few weeks?”
Mr. Darcy’s smile faded only slightly as he replied, “In Hertfordshire with Bingley. You remember my friend?”
“Ah, yes, the unnaturally happy one.” He laughed at his cousin’s disapproving face and continued. “What the deuces were you doing in that part of the country?”
“He asked for my advice regarding an estate he is leasing.” His answer was so matter-of-fact that Richard, who knew Darcy better than himself sometimes, detected something unusual about it.
“For two months?”
Darcy shifted in his chair uneasily and shrugged his shoulders with indifference. “He has never had an estate, and there was much to consider.”
Richard merely nodded in acquiescence but sat staring at his cousin for a few minutes. Darcy detected his gaze and tried to ignore it. Whenever his cousin smelled blood, he was ruthless, and Darcy was proud of himself for appearing disinterested in the topic of his recent trip. He hoped his cousin would see nothing amiss.
“Well, I am glad that you could lend your experience to your friend. Does he stay in Hertfordshire?”
“Yes, he enjoys the area tremendously; in fact, he has recently begun courting a local gentleman’s daughter.” Darcy flinched slightly at his mistake. Knowing Richard was always interested in hearing about ladies, he should not have brought up Bingley’s news. He held his breath for a moment, hoping his cousin would uncharacteristically ignore the chance to enquire about the lady. His hope was for naught, for when Richard had seen his cousin’s sudden discomfort, he could not help himself and decided to pry deeper.
“You don’t say! Well, good for him. Does Hertfordshire boast of many good-looking ladies?”
“There are a few handsome ones, yes.” Darcy nonchalantly brushed an invisible speck of dust off his trousers.
“I had not known Hertfordshire was the place to meet fine ladies. It has been a while since I have been in company with Bingley; perhaps I ought to pay him a visit.” Richard watched his cousin squirm and realized that a lady was behind his discomfort. The idea was completely fascinating as he had never before seen his cousin enamored by any lady. This lady must be something special, indeed, to have caught his cousin’s interest.
Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, was trying desperately to keep his composure at the thought of his handsome and naturally charming cousin traveling to Hertfordshire and possibly making the acquaintance of Elizabeth. She was so witty and delightful when she teased and stunning when her laughter brought a sparkle to her eyes, that he knew his cousin would immediately take to her. What if he is able to win her affections? The idea boiled inside him, and for a moment, he could do nothing but torture himself with the image of Elizabeth as his cousin’s wife.
With a serious tone, Richard looked at his cousin and asked, “Who is she, Darcy?”
A startled Darcy looked up and said, “What?” He realized his abruptness was telling and so added, “I am sure I do not have the privilege of understanding your question.”
Richard laughed. “I am sure you do not.” His laughter grew more unrestrained when he looked at his cousin, who was frowning seriously at him.
“Richard, was there a particular reason you came to my home today?” Mr. Darcy’s temper was beginning to chafe at his cousin’s discovery, and he desperately desired a change of topic.
Richard decided to humor his cousin but by no means planned to leave this intriguing subject alone. He would certainly revisit it — and soon. He chuckled, though, at the stern look on his cousin’s face. “I see you cannot be deterred. As a matter of fact, I did have a reason. I received a missive from another colonel in a regiment stationed in your lovely Hertfordshire regarding Mr. Wickham. He tells me you informed him of Wickham’s character upon learning the man had joined his regiment and that you invited him to contact me.”
Richard was now quite serious. “What is the man up to now, do you think?”
Darcy shook his head and ground his teeth together before speaking. “I have no idea. I am sure I have not heard the last of him after Ramsgate. He was pretty angry for having his plans spoiled to get Georgiana’s dowry, and I shall never forgive him.”
Richard stood and helped himself to a glass of his cousin’s fine port. “Nor shall I. I am glad you contacted his superior officer. I wrote back to Colonel Forster to confirm that, should Wickham misbehave, I would be more than happy to lend my assistance.” He laughed a dry, wicked laugh. “But to be honest, I am glad that Wickham has joined the militia. It will give us the ability to watch his moves. I only wish he had been stupid enough to join my regiment, for I sorely wish to teach him a few maneuvers.”
A knock on the door interrupted the conversation, and Mr. Darcy went to open it. Mr. Carroll stood with a tray in his hand. “This letter has just arrived, sir, by way of express.”
Mr. Darcy took the letter, saying, “Thank you, Mr. Carroll,” before closing the door and returning to his seat by his cousin. He looked at the letter and saw that it was posted from Meryton but without a return address. He wondered who would have sent him something anonymous from Meryton, and for a moment, a delightful image of Elizabeth writing to him secretly entered his mind. A smile came unbidden, and before he could hide it, his cousin spoke.
“I see you have a letter from Hertfordshire. Forgive me, your distraction allowed me to spy at the envelope.”
Darcy frowned at Richard then stood and walked towards the window to open the letter. He almost stopped himself as he considered whether or not he wanted to read Elizabeth’s letter in front of his cousin. However, he could not help himself or wait any longer, so he broke the seal and frowned at the familiar male handwriting.
Darcy,
It was delightful to have moved in the same circles as you again in Hertfordshire. I imagine neither of us expected such a pleasure. I could relate news of our common acquaintances here, but I shall not bother with that for now. You have done a pretty trick on me here, Darcy. I am certain it was you who gave Colonel Forster his distaste for me, and now many of the families in the area are refusing my company. It made me realize it has been ages since you and I talked. I believe it has been too long, and I look forward to meeting with you soon. Give my regards to Georgiana. She is such a darling.
G.W.
Mr. Darcy’s fists clenched in anger, and he turned to his cousin. “Perhaps, I was too hasty. It appears Wickham is up to something.” He shoved the letter in his cousin’s hands and huffed at his confused face.
Richard began to read the letter, and Darcy listened as his cousin let out a few decidedly ungentlemanly words before asking, “What are you going to do, Darcy?”
Darcy spun around to face his cousin and barked, “What am I to do, Richard? The man will never stop until he makes me absolutely miserable. You read it. He means to contact me, and he mentioned Georgiana. Do you think he is planning a second attempt with her?” He paced the room in agitation.
Richard shook his head. “Actually, no, Darcy. I think even Wickham knows that chance is lost to him. He knows you are here and that Georgiana is, too. She is perfectly safe from him. I think he has something new in mind, and I wish I knew what it was. I suppose there is nothing you can do for now. Let me know if you hear from him again.”
With frustrated resignation, Darcy sank into a chair. “I will let you know.”
“Well, I should be going. Is Georgiana in the music room? I wish to say hello to her before I leave.”
“I believe she is.”
“You know my mother was unhappy to have learned of your arrival in London from that gossip mill, Miss Varner. You know she considers you like a son, Darcy.”
Mr. Darcy looked at his cousin and smiled. “Yes, I know. Tell Aunt Ellen I would be delighted if she and Uncle Henry would join me for dinner later this week. Any day is fine. You may come too, Richard.”
“How kind of you, Darcy!” Richard feigned offense and added, “I will let her know. It will make her happy to see you again. She worries about you, but you know that.”
Darcy sighed. “Yes, I know.”
Darcy stood to walk his cousin to the door and bid him goodbye. He stopped when Richard turned to speak again.
“Say, Darcy, when are you and Georgiana leaving for Pemberley for Christmas?”
Darcy paused a minute as he considered his cousin’s question. With Wickham’s letter causing him worry, he wondered whether staying in London might not be better. He would be closer to Richard if he were needed. The idea of removing to Pemberley after spending so many weeks imagining Elizabeth there was also a deterrent. Besides, if he was honest with himself, he did not want to put so many miles between himself and Elizabeth just yet.
“I believe we may stay in London this year for the holidays.”
Richard eyed his cousin suspiciously but said calmly, “That will make my mother happy. Can I tell her you will be in town?”
“You may — unless you want her to hear it from Miss Varner.”
They both laughed, and Richard patted his cousin on the back as he made his good-byes. Darcy watched him walk towards the music room, closed his study door and leaned his back against it. He suddenly felt very tired, and he knew Wickham’s letter had everything to do with it.
Chapter 12
With her aunt and uncle present at Longbourn, Elizabeth’s time was so engaged during the day that the troubles of her heart usually were successfully set aside. Between visiting with her aunt, shopping for last minute Christmas gifts for her family and the ever-constant discussion of Jane’s wedding details, Elizabeth, who usually found solitude preferable, was grateful for the diversions. When evening came, however, her troubled thoughts were her only company. At night in her bed, she found sleep eluded her until the early morning hours as she spent most of the night in a flux of emotions.
There were moments when she nearly turned to wake Jane and confess all to her regarding her feelings for Mr. Darcy. In those moments of weakness, she had nearly convinced herself that sharing her burden would lighten it as she had always experienced in the past. However, the peacefully sleeping form of her sister always made her pause. She considered what the revelation would do to Jane, who was so compassionate; she knew Jane could not help but feel a bit of her pain if she knew. Elizabeth would then roll over and stare at the ceiling as she changed her mind. Jane did not deserve to have anything weigh down the lightness of her heart during her engagement. Furthermore, the knowledge of how Elizabeth loved and missed Darcy would forever make her sensitive sister uncomfortable after her marriage whenever they were forced into company together.
It was after a particularly trying night that Elizabeth rose at dawn, having only experienced a few hours of restless sleep. She quietly retrieved her dressing gown, pulled its soft wool around her shoulders and sat on the windowsill. With unseeing eyes, she looked out the window and played with the frost that had accumulated on the windowpane. Her dreams for the past week had one principle element — Mr. Darcy. She would have peaceful dreams of their encounter in the woods, only to have a different ending with her alone and unable to escape as a fierce wind blew trees down around her. In other dreams, she spoke to Mr. Darcy, but he was angry at her, his features twisting in rage, as she stood stunned.
The night before, she dreamt they were dancing at Netherfield again and nobody else was in the room. The music seemed to flow around them like a current; their gazes never left each other. Just as the dance ended, the door to the ballroom opened, and Miss Bingley walked in. Darcy looked at Elizabeth and, without a word, shrugged his shoulders and left her standing alone in the empty room as he exited with Miss Bingley on his arm.
A noise from the bed sta
rtled Elizabeth from the remembrance of her dream, and she looked towards her sister. Jane was still sleeping peacefully, but as Elizabeth turned back to the window, she noticed that in her absent mental wandering, she had drawn several sets of his initials in the frost. She hastily rubbed her palm across the surface to erase the letters. She stood up and, with a sigh, began her morning toilette. After she dressed and sat down to un-plait her hair to put it up for the day, she noticed her reflection in the mirror.
Her eyes held dark circles, and her face was pale. She finished her hair and went to splash cool water from the basin on her face to help bring some color to her cheeks. When she returned to the mirror, she noticed a slight improvement, but the rest could not be helped. With another sigh, she quietly left her bedchamber and descended the stairs in hopes of getting a cup of restorative tea before the rest of the house woke. When she neared the door to her father’s study, she was startled and let out a gasp when the door suddenly opened, revealing her father.
“Papa! You scared me, I did not expect . . . ” Her voice died away as she laughed uneasily at the pounding of her heart.
Mr. Bennet reached his hand out to his daughter and, upon obtaining possession of it, spoke to her as he led her into his study. “Forgive me for startling you, Lizzy. I had not meant to. I heard you coming down the stairs and did not want to miss the opportunity to speak to you. Won’t you come in and visit with your Papa a while? It has been some time since you did.”
Elizabeth colored in embarrassment and guilt as she considered how she had tried to avoid any conference with her father since learning of Mr. Darcy’s departure. She did not want him to broach the topic most close to her heart and so had busied herself with their guests and other ventures.
“Yes, Papa, let me just pour myself a cup of tea.” She went to the tea things at his sideboard as he closed the door. “Can I pour you one, too?”
“I believe I will have some tea. Thank you. You know how I like it, I trust.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, with more sugar than you ought.” She shook her head in mock reprimand but heaped another spoonful into his cup.
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