Willow Hall Romance

by Leenie Brown

  Bingley sadly nodded his acceptance of the fact and turned to Darcy. “You thought you were helping me?”

  “I did.”

  “Never, for the rest of our lives, ever help me in such a fashion again. If I require your help with relationships, I will ask for it — though not for some time, I should think.”

  “I am forgiven?” Relief, nearly certain that forgiveness had been granted, crept cautiously into Darcy’s heart.

  “I should hate to ask a father for his daughter’s hand,” Bingley explained, “if I am so fortunate as to gain her permission to do so, when he knows that I was unwilling to take his advice. So, yes, you are forgiven.”

  Darcy blew out a great breath as relief swelled within him.

  Mr. Bennet smiled at them both. “So much easier than daughters.” He looked to the tray of sweets. “Some port before we explain about Lydia?”

  Darcy agreed and was just handing a glass to Bingley before taking his own when…

  “Darcy!” A bellow carried from the entry.

  Must Richard always make such a loud entrance? “My cousin,” he explained to Mr. Bennet.

  “Nearly as loud as my wife,” muttered Mr. Bennet with a smile and a wink. “Probably not as fetching in a dress, however.”

  Darcy and Bingley chuckled.

  “Darcy!” There was an impatience to the repeated bellow followed by a tromping of feet growing louder as they approached the library.

  A frazzled Thompson scurried into the room behind Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I tried to explain, sir.”

  “It is quite alright. Richard is more familiar with giving than receiving orders.” Darcy glowered at his cousin, who, at least, had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed. “Mr. Bennet, my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Richard, Mr. Bennet. Do come in and sit down.” He motioned to a chair and added, “And kindly keep your voice to a low rumble.”

  “I haven’t time,” Richard replied. “I am looking for a good-for-nothing wastrel for Forrester, and my leave does not start until I find both him and the young lady he took with him.” Richard paced a small path in front of the door. His hands clenched and unclenched behind his back. “I need the address of that inn where you said he was last time we needed to find him.”

  “Sit,” Darcy barked the order and Richard complied. “We are just awaiting the men I sent to that very inn. Mr. Bennet is as anxious to have his daughter returned as you are to begin your leave. Will you be spending it in town?”

  Once again, Richard looked rather chagrinned. “I apologize. I did not put the name of the young lady and yours together.”

  Mr. Bennet uncrossed his legs and crossed them again, this time with the left foot on top of the right. “I apologize for my daughter being a cause for your current assignment. She is a headstrong child — smart, but willful. Again, I must apologize for that.”

  “Ah, I nearly forgot.” Richard reached into his pocket. “This is for you,” he said handing a letter to Darcy. “There was a man on the steps when I arrived,” he explained as Darcy looked at the address with some confusion.

  Darcy turned the letter over in his hands and ran a finger over the seal, unsure if he should read this now or wait until later.

  “Read it,” said Richard. “You’ll be half distracted until you do. Am I not right, Bingley?”

  “Oh, indeed,” agreed Bingley.

  Mr. Bennet raised a brow. “From a gentleman or lady?” he inquired, a slight smirk pulling at his mouth.

  “Mr. Dobney,” Darcy replied. “Philip,” he added to Bingley before explaining to Mr. Bennet who Philip was.

  Mr. Bennet chuckled as Darcy turned the letter over in his hands while speaking. “You will not offend me if you tend to your letter. I am the one inconveniencing you with my presence, after all. If it were not for Lydia, I would not be here at all.”

  Darcy insisted that Mr. Bennet was not an inconvenience, although Mr. Bennet would hear nothing of being untruthful out of politeness. This, of course, led to a discussion of a polite dissimulation and the ills or benefits of such pretense. As Richard waxed eloquent on a third story of the ills of such actions, Darcy excused himself to read his letter. He knew that Richard, once started on a topic, could continue for some time, and that the stories were, without a doubt, ones which Darcy had heard before.

  Darcy,

  As I have promised, I am writing to inform you of a new arrival in the area. My cousin, Captain Harris, has arrived for a visit. He has called on Willow Hall with my sister. In fact, that is where Lucy and I found him this afternoon — lounging in the garden with the full family. Miss Bennet and the Gardiners have arrived safely. You will be pleased to know that Harris has shown no particular attention to Miss Elizabeth. He does, however, seem taken with Miss Bennet, and I cannot blame him. She is quite lovely.

  I am to inform you, for Lucy says I must, that your Miss Elizabeth has eyes only for you, so you need not worry. Lucy also wishes you to know that Miss Elizabeth has had the full story of all that transpired with Lucy’s uncle and Wickham. It seems Miss Elizabeth’s youngest sister has gone to Brighton and has, according to Harris, been flirting with several officers — Wickham being one of them. You might wish to share what you know of the man with Mr. Bennet when you call on him. If this letter reaches you after you have called on him, I would urge you to write to him. Lucy gives permission to speak of her ordeal.

  Looking forward to your return, etc.

  P. Dobney

  “Is all well in Derbyshire?” asked Richard as Darcy folded the letter.

  Darcy grimaced slightly. “Just informing me that Miss Bennet and the Gardiners have arrived safely,, as has Captain Harris. It seems Harris has brought news from Brighton that Miss Elizabeth found unsettling.”

  “About Lydia?” asked Mr. Bennet.

  Darcy nodded slowly. “It seems Harris mentioned some flirtation.” Darcy motioned for the footmen, who stood at the door, to enter. “What have you discovered?”

  The two men looked at each other uneasily.

  “They all know of it,” assured Darcy. “You may speak freely.”

  “They were not at the inn when we arrived, but they had been there, sir,” began the first man. “They left this morning.”

  “They are going to Scotland, sir,” said the second man. “It seems they must marry.”

  Darcy’s heart sank to his boots. “They must?” he asked.

  The second man cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. It seems the lady is with child.”

  Chapter 11

  Derbyshire

  “We have another guest, ma’am,” said Mrs. Smith, entering the drawing room where the ladies of Willow Hall had gathered to sew and chat with Lucy, Mary Ellen, and Georgiana.

  “Another?” asked Cecily.

  “Miss Lydia Bennet, ma’am.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open as she gasped. “Lydia is here?”

  “Yes, miss,” replied Mrs. Smith. Elizabeth could tell by the look on the housekeeper’s face that she was not entirely pleased with the new arrival. “She’s waiting in the entry. Shall I show her in?”

  “Oh, indeed.” Cecily tucked her sewing back into her workbasket. “We can’t have her standing in the entryway, nor can we turn her out.”

  “Is she unaccompanied?” asked Aunt Gardiner.

  Mrs. Smith shook her head. “There is an officer with her.” Her eyes narrowed and her lips puckered slightly in disgust. “Lieutenant Wickham.”

  Elizabeth was certain her heart had stopped beating for a moment. It could not be. It just could not be. She cast an uneasy glance at Lucy and Georgiana before rising and hurrying from the room. She needed to see the truth of the report for herself. “Lydia!” she said in surprise. Her sister and Wickham were indeed in the entryway. “What are you doing here? Why are you not in Brighton?”

  Lydia pouted. This was not exactly the welcome she had expected. They would be surprised, to be sure, but not displeased. “Are you not glad to see me? I thought you and Jane an
d Aunt would be delighted. I have gone to an enormous amount of trouble to come for a visit.” She crossed her arms. Lizzy was nearly as severe as Mary at times; perhaps the others would be more welcoming.

  “How can I be happy you are here when you are supposed to be in Brighton?”

  “Brighton is dull.” She tried not to reply to her sister’s critical tone without snapping, but it was not possible.

  “Dull?” Elizabeth repeated incredulously.

  “Yes, Brighton is dull, which is why I asked Mr. Wickham if he would escort me to visit you.” She flashed a sweet smile at Elizabeth and managed, this time, to keep her tone equally as pleasant. “It was ever so long a journey. I had not realized just how far Derbyshire is from Hertfordshire. It is quite a distance, is it not?”

  “Indeed, it is.” Elizabeth wished to grab her sister by the shoulders and shake the smile from her face. Had she no idea the impropriety of her actions? “You travelled alone?” She raised a brow and looked at Wickham for an answer.

  “No,” he replied. “Miss Lydia was accompanied by a maid, and we were on a crowded coach.”

  “Oh, Lizzy! It was very unpleasant. All those people bouncing around and bumping into one another.” Lydia shuddered dramatically. “I shall not like to do that again. It is much better to have one’s own carriage.”

  By this time, Mrs. Abbot had joined Elizabeth in the hall.

  “Come,” said Cecily. “This would be a far more pleasant conversation to have in the sitting room.” She turned to Mrs. Smith. “Please have Mr. Abbot and Mr. Gardiner join us at their earliest convenience.”

  “I cannot stay,” said Wickham.

  “You’ll stay.” There was a steeliness to Cecily’s voice. “Until we have this all sorted out, you will stay, sir.”

  “But I am not welcome –” Wickham attempted again to extricate himself from his present situation, but Cecily would not allow it.

  “You most certainly are not, but that does not signify.” She turned to Elizabeth. “Take Lydia to the sitting room. Mr. Wickham and I shall follow as soon as I have a word with him.”

  Elizabeth did as instructed and had gotten both Lydia and herself into seats before Cecily, accompanied by a somber Wickham, entered. Wickham bowed and greeted each person in turn and then took a seat away from the group of ladies.

  Jane was asking Lydia about Mrs. Forrester and the sites of Brighton, and Elizabeth was thankful for it. For the conversation filled what otherwise would have surely been a silent room. Georgiana’s eyes did not leave her stitching, and Lucy’s did not leave Georgiana. Elizabeth found herself watching Lydia for a moment and then Wickham, who was nervously turning his hat in his hands.

  “I would have been here sooner, but Mr. Wickham insisted on calling on some stuffy old friend first.”

  Elizabeth turned her eyes back to Lydia. “And who was that?” she inquired.

  “Mr. Williams,” Wickham answered. “I needed to see him. I had promised him that I would call on him first if I ever came back to Derbyshire. It was a promise I dared not break.”

  “He was such a crosspatch,” said Lydia. “I did not think he would let us continue on our way.”

  “He is the constable,” said Lucy. “He is only cross when he needs to be. Normally, he is a rather pleasant fellow.”

  “The constable?” asked Lydia in surprise.

  Wickham glowered at her. “I told you when we were in London that I was not welcome here. I did not lie.”

  Lydia crossed her arms and scowled at him in return. “Well, it is quite difficult to ferret out when you are lying and when you are not. Perhaps if you were honest more often.”

  “Ah, Lydia,” said Mr. Gardiner entering the room ahead of Mr. Abbot. “I heard you had arrived. You are well?” He tilted his head to the side and looked at her.

  “I am,” she replied.

  “Tell me of your journey,” Mr. Gardiner said as he took a seat near his wife. “Did you meet any interesting people along the way?”

  His tone was open and engaging, but Elizabeth noted how he seemed to force his smile and knew that his manners were to elicit the full story from Lydia. She listened for a few moments as Lydia spoke of her departure from Brighton and her stop in London.

  “An inn?” The words leapt from Elizabeth’s mouth. “You spent a night in an inn with him?” She waved her hand in Wickham’s direction. “Have you no idea of propriety?”

  “He refused to continue on. I had no option other than sleeping in the street, and I did not give the innkeeper my name.” Lydia crossed her arms and scowled at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth huffed and shook her head.

  “Perhaps a walk in the garden?” suggested Cecily. “We must hear the full tale, you know,” she added softly.

  Elizabeth nodded her understanding.

  “I would walk with you,” Georgiana offered.

  “As would I,” said Lucy, rising. “In fact, I would like a bit of air. Mary Ellen, will you join us?”

  Elizabeth rose to follow the three from the room. Mary Ellen joined arms with Georgiana, and Lucy took Elizabeth’s but remained standing near the house until the others were a distance ahead.

  “Now,” she said with a smile, “tell me what is in your heart.”

  “She will have to marry him.” Elizabeth blinked against the tears that formed in her eyes.

  “She may,” agreed Lucy. “It would be an unfortunate result but not unlikely. Do you worry for her safety or her happiness?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “How could one be happy with such a man? How could one be safe?” A tear slid down her cheek. “If I had not listened to him, if I had not befriended him, this would not have happened.”

  Lucy drew her close. “He is handsome, and you said she was a flirt. Is it truly impossible that it could not have happened on its own?” Lucy led her to a bench near a tree as Elizabeth allowed that it was not entirely outside the realm of possibility.

  They sat silently for a few moments. Lucy watched as grief played at Elizabeth’s features. There was yet something which was disquieting her, and Lucy feared that she knew all too well what it was, for she had, thanks to her uncle, felt the same — twice. So, it was not so very surprising when Elizabeth finally shook her head and voiced her true concern.

  “I cannot bear to think of Georgiana having to be related to him, and I cannot imagine her brother would wish it.” She drew a shuddering breath as tears flowed down her cheeks. “Lydia has not only destroyed her own happiness but mine as well.”

  Somewhere between London and Derbyshire

  Darcy settled into the carriage again once the fresh horses had been acquired.

  “I am not so old that I could not ride a horse,” grumbled Mr. Bennet.

  Darcy was unsure how many times he had heard the complaint.

  “Richard and Bingley are riding ahead of us, and we shall travel as quickly as we can, but the carriage was needed.” Darcy had said the same words each time Mr. Bennet had grumbled and shifted uneasily, but this time, he added, “we can ride from Pemberley.”

  Mr. Bennet nodded and attempted to open his book to occupy his mind. Darcy watched as the man flipped pages and then went back and flipped them again before closing the book and placing it on the bench next to him.

  “What a fool I have been,” Mr. Bennet leaned his head against the back of the carriage. “How could I have allowed her to go to Brighton? Was my peace truly worth the cost?” His eyes continued to search the top of the carriage as if it would give him the answers he sought.

  “A lady of fifteen or sixteen can be persuasive,” Darcy replied. “I had wished for my sister to wait for me to accompany her to Ramsgate, but the thought so distressed her that I pushed my better judgement to the side and allowed her to go ahead of me. It was not as if she would be unaccompanied. She had a companion who seemed respectable.” He shrugged as Mr. Bennet looked his direction. “I did not know Mrs. Younge’s connection to Wickham, and you did not know Wickham’s true character. We
, both of us, made decisions based on what we knew. Unfortunately, those decisions proved poor.” He shook his head at his foolishness in condemning Mr. Bennet for his neglect of family. True, the man did not appear to put forth enough effort — and Darcy was sure there were improvements that begged making. However, Darcy could commiserate to a degree with the gentleman. “I struggle to do right by one sister. I cannot imagine how much more challenging it would be to have five.”

  “You are far too generous,” Mr. Bennet replied with a sad smile. “It is a challenge, and there are six females in my home, not five.” He chuckled. “You are gaining a sensible wife, so your task of raising children, should they all be girls, will be much easier.” He turned to look out at the road. The sun was dipping behind the hills and the shadows were growing. “I trusted my wife to guide them. What did I know of daughters? I had only a brother and a cousin.” He smiled at Darcy. “My mother was much like Lizzy — a quick wit, a strong character, a love of learning, and a temper strong enough to quell the most stubborn acquaintance who dared challenge her.” He chuckled again at the memory.

  “You were close to her?”

  “Closer to her than to my father.” He sighed. “There was no love lost between my father and me. He preferred my brother and my cousin. They questioned less.”

  The sound of the wheels on the road and the rhythmic fall of horses’ hooves filled the carriage for some minutes.

  “That is why the estate is entailed,” Mr. Bennet said, at last. “My father figured I would do a miserable job of seeing to it. He despised my love of new methods, you see.” His chuckle, this time, was a bitter one. “And to my brother and my cousin, it looked like I was fulfilling my father’s predictions.” An impertinent grin very like Lizzy’s played at his mouth. “The estate does well.”

  Darcy’s brows rose. “Why hide your success?”

  Mr. Bennet shrugged. “I cared not for their opinion and felt they deserved to keep it. I also did not trust my cousin and feared that if he knew I was a success, he might hasten my demise. He was with my brother when my brother had his fall. That is when the rift in our family occurred. I held him responsible since it was his idea to go out in foul weather. Fortunately, he has not survived me and will not reap the benefits of my labours. Unfortunately, his brother’s son will. I would rather the estate not go to such a bumbling fool, but he seems harmless enough if you can avoid his prattling.” He smiled. “And Charlotte is a fine young woman. She will do well by the estate and him. Not that I envy her the task.”