Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

by Brenda J. Webb

  “I had no idea you were going to be visiting. Did you send me word? I do not remember a letter.” As she spoke, she pulled Madeline towards the front door. “Well, that is of no import! You are here now, and your arrival is most fortunate, as I am in great need of your advice.”

  Mr. Gardiner exited the coach just as his wife disappeared inside Longbourn. Jane, Mary, Kitty and Lydia still waited patiently on the other side. The three youngest looked eager to learn what gifts he might have in his pockets, for he always brought small bags of sweets, as well as buttons and ribbons from his warehouse.

  “Come now,” he teased as he came around the back, “is no one looking for any treats?” Instantly palms appeared in mid air. “I thought so.”

  After receiving their gifts, the three youngest hurried into the house, leaving Mr. Gardiner and Jane alone. She had stayed back to allow the younger girls to go first.

  Winking at her, Gardiner said, “Are you too old now for bribery? I still have your favourite blue ribbons, or have you decided for another colour?”

  Jane blushed. “I still favour the blue.”

  He pressed several gifts in her hand. “And here are some pearl buttons and a nice lace handkerchief.” Then he glanced about. “Where is Lizzy? I have the same gifts for her, only her ribbons are lavender.”

  “I... I cannot say for sure. Perhaps she is still in her room.”

  Noting the sadness that instantly overtook his eldest niece at the mention of her sister, Edward Gardiner placed an arm around Jane’s shoulder. As he directed her towards the house, he asked, “Is there something I should know?”

  “I believe it best if Aunt Gardiner tells you, and I am certain she will.”

  He stopped short, inspecting Jane for additional clues as to what was wrong. Then mindful that he should not prod, he said gently, “Very well. But know that I shall do everything within my power to help, if I am allowed.”

  “You have always cared for us above what is your responsibility, Uncle, and for that I am most grateful.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Believe me when I say that it pleases me to do so.” Then trying to cheer her, he continued. “Let us go find Miss Lizzy, and see if she still favours lavender ribbons, or if she has changed her mind.”

  ELIZABETH’S BEDROOM

  As Madeline Gardiner raised her hand to knock on the door, she hesitated. To say she had been shocked to learn that her favourite niece had acted in a manner more indicative of Lydia would not be true—she had been incredulous. Then after being told the name of the man Lizzy was to marry, she had been speechless. Now, an hour later, she had reined in her emotions, resolved that the best thing she could do was to try to keep the arrangement from ending in disaster. Knowing Lizzy, she was certain that it might.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy’s reputation was well known to her, as it would be to anyone with ties to Lambton. Though she had never met the man, she had seen him on occasion, and while the circumstances of the engagement were unfortunate, she had every confidence that the union would be the making of Lizzy—if she would allow it. In the last few years, Mrs. Gardiner had worried over this niece’s future more than all the other girls, uncertain if any man would see the unique treasure hidden beneath the intrepid exterior.

  Surely a man such as Mr. Darcy will see and value Lizzy’s intelligence. And if I can convince her not to be so candid... She shook her head.... Well, that will be a tall order. Gathering her resolve, she knocked lightly.

  “Lizzy, may I come in?”

  Elizabeth opened the door and fell into her aunt’s arms in an anguish of penetrating remorse, though only her trembling body signified that she was crying. Embracing her niece, Mrs. Gardiner pulled her to the bed where they sat down, and she gently rocked her. Several minutes passed while she prayed for the right words to say.

  Elizabeth, however, was first to speak, stuttering out a confession between loud sniffles. “I... I know that I was foolish, but does foolishness warrant being sentenced to spend the rest of my life with a man I loathe?”

  “I must confess that I cannot imagine what objections you have to Mr. Darcy. I have known him all his life, howbeit not formally. But he and his family have always been well regarded in Lambton. They are reputed to be kind and generous to servants and tenants alike, in addition to providing for the common good of Derbyshire. They built and furnished the church, a physician’s office, a home for widows and another for orphans—”

  Elizabeth broke in, “Perhaps the parents were good and kind, but the son does not share the same virtues.”

  “Lizzy, I visit my relations in Lambton quite often, and they have nothing but good things to say about him. Where have you heard such nonsense?”

  “From his own cousin!”

  “The one who compromised you? And you believe him?”

  She nodded, saying defiantly, “It is because of Fitzwilliam Darcy that Andrew Darcy could not offer for me in the first place,” then added less vehemently, “not that I would have accepted him.”

  Mrs. Gardiner noted the proviso. “It is plain that you had reservations and would not marry him, though you accept as truth his criticism of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Could something else have coloured your perception of the one you are to marry?”

  “His conduct left me no reason to doubt the charges Andrew Darcy lay at his feet.”

  “Then suppose you tell me everything, starting with when you met Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  Relating their entire association, ending with the tale Andrew had shared about his degradation at Darcy’s hands, Elizabeth waited confidently for her aunt to acknowledge that she was right. When she did not, Elizabeth glanced to find Madeline Gardiner regarding her with an expression akin to disappointment. Her aunt’s attitude annoyed her, and she added, “And he was not the only man Fitzwilliam Darcy denied an inheritance. He did not give Mr. Wickham the living bequeathed to him, either.”

  “George Wickham? The steward’s son?”

  Hearing the misgivings in her voice, Elizabeth nodded a little less earnestly.

  “Rumours have swirled for years regarding Andrew Darcy and George Wickham, but as I had no firsthand knowledge of the facts, I always kept them to myself. However, it is well known that Mr. Darcy had Mr. Wickham escorted from Pemberley shortly after his father’s death, and Andrew Darcy was removed to his estate two years past under similar circumstances.”

  “Does that not prove his disagreeable temper and support his cousin’s allegations?”

  “It only proves whichever point of view you wish to defend. Until the truth is known, both sides of an argument should be given the benefit of the doubt.” She waited, but her niece kept silent. “It is logical to give more credence to the party with the better reputation. Andrew Darcy and George Wickham have been associated with some very appalling behaviour. Andrew Darcy’s actions in regard to you only reinforce what has been said.”

  Elizabeth’s head dropped, so her aunt lifted her chin with two fingers. “The only thing that matters now is what you do next. This debacle has been unfortunate in so many ways, but in another sense, Fate has granted you an opportunity few will ever experience. Give Fitzwilliam Darcy the chance to make you happy, I beg of you. Do not throw everything away by being resentful.”

  Instantly, Elizabeth’s brows knit. “I am not resentful!” Then more calmly she asked, “Am I?”

  “Though I love you dearly, I must speak the truth for your sake. I have seen such a trait in you since you were a babe. You have always resented being forced to do things, even though you might do it later if left alone. It was an attribute that your father encouraged. He thought it entertaining, though now I have to wonder if he still thinks the same.”

  “Am I really so dreadful?”

  “Not dreadful, my dear, only inflexible in that one area. But you must grasp the truth now, or it will destroy any chance for happiness in your marriage.” Trying to lighten the mood, she added, “And you are also most fortunate in another way.”

  “How s
o?”

  “Fitzwilliam Darcy is not only wealthy, he is very handsome. I dare say that most of the women in England would clamour to take your place.”

  “I care not if he is handsome. I would give them my place willingly.”

  “Enough of this, Lizzy,” she said firmly. “You are no longer a child, and your father is right. You must marry in order to save yourself and your sisters. If you hate Mr. Darcy so much, why did you not choose Mr. Collins?”

  “Mr. Collins looks as though he never bathes. His clothes, his breath and his hair all smell and his teeth need cleaning.”

  “Then you have told a falsehood.” One of Elizabeth’s brows rose in question. “You boasted that you care not for physical attributes, but it seems you chose Mr. Darcy over Mr. Collins because he is the more attractive of the two.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

  “I think you should thank God every night that the man to whom you are engaged is not only handsome but cares about your welfare.”

  Elizabeth stood and walked to the window, where she pulled back the curtain to peer into the garden. Sighing raggedly, tears filled her eyes. “I swore that I would marry only for the deepest love. Now I shall be bound forever to a man who offered for me simply out of pity. I shall never be good enough for his family or acquaintances. Even he considers me beneath him.”

  Madeline Gardiner rushed to the window and wrapped her arms around her niece. “Oh, my dear, now I understand why you struggle so against this arrangement. But all of us, Bennets and Gardiners, are beneath his society. Your task, should you be mature enough to accept it, will be to show him that rank does not make the person. Show him your true worth.”

  “My true worth,” Elizabeth repeated woodenly. “I no longer know who I am, much less what I am worth. This entire matter has me so lost. I do not know if I can trust my instincts ever again!”

  Mrs. Gardiner pushed her to arm’s length, gripping her shoulders. “Well then, pay heed, for I shall tell you exactly who you are! You are Elizabeth Bennet—a lively, beautiful, inquisitive and intelligent young woman who will make an excellent wife and a loving mother. And I have every confidence that once Mr. Darcy sees your true character, he shall consider himself the most fortunate of men.”

  Elizabeth managed a wan smile. “And if he does not, may I count on you to point out the obvious?”

  Relived that her niece was at least trying to be jovial, she smoothed some curls from Elizabeth’s face.

  “Most certainly! For I am convinced that if you give him a fair chance, I shall never be forced to act.”

  “I shall try very hard to be a good wife.”

  “That is all I ask.”

  MANCHESTER

  Winfield Hall

  The sound of loud banging on the front door brought Mrs. Lightfoot scurrying to the foyer, drying her hands on her apron. Unbeknownst to her, Mr. Lightfoot was coming from the opposite direction, and they met on the marble floor below the grand staircase. With so few servants, it took everyone performing several duties at Winfield Hall, and the housekeeper was as likely to answer the door as the butler. Despite both hurrying to the front, neither was keen to find out who might be raising such a fuss. With the master away most of the time and guests but a memory, any unforeseen arrivals brought uncertainties.

  The knocking grew louder and more insistent.

  “Who do you suppose is here at this hour? It is almost dark.”

  “We are expecting no one. Perhaps I should look through the glass before we open the door, my dear. With Bivens presently at the stables, there is not a footman in the house, and it could be one of those beggars who dared to knock on Glenbrook’s door last week.”

  “I agree. Better to be safe than sorry,” her husband said.

  Tiptoeing to one of the large windows that flanked the door, the housekeeper eased the curtain aside. Though able to see a tall figure, she could not make out his face. She had just turned to shake her head at her husband when a voice boomed from outside, “Open the door, for God’s sake, Lightfoot!”

  Recognising their employer, Mrs. Lightfoot instantly threw open the door, only to watch as Andrew Darcy stumbled inside and fell to the floor. It was obvious that he had been in a scuffle, as his coat was torn and blood-spattered, and there were bruises and blood on his face.

  “Close the door and bolt it!” he ordered.

  Having frozen at the sight of him, the housekeeper quickly moved to follow his orders. While her husband knelt by his side.

  “Good heavens, sir, what happened to you? Shall I send Mrs. Lightfoot for help? Mr. Petty is not in town this week, but she can fetch Mr. Carnes. He was once a physician’s apprentice and may be able to help with your injuries. Besides, the two of us cannot get you up the stairs without assistance.”

  As Mrs. Lightfoot hurried towards the back of the house to fetch Carnes from the stables, her husband made several attempts to get Andrew on his feet. Finally successful, he assisted him into the foyer, Mr. Darcy moaning with every step. Easing him into one of the chairs that flanked a large mirror, the elderly servant ventured, “Should I send for the constable? Were you robbed?”

  “I... I was attacked when leaving the inn not three miles away, but they did not take anything from my person. Most likely they were tenants from Marsden Park.”

  “Why would someone from that estate do such a thing?”

  “You have not heard of Miss Harrington’s death?”

  “Yes, sir. But what has that to do with you?”

  “Apparently, Effie Harrington has drowned. How it came about, I have no idea since I was not here. But it appears that I am being blamed for her death. I have no idea why. I am a scapegoat, if you will.”

  Lightfoot’s brows furrowed. “I see,” was his only reply.

  “Veiled threats were made against my life, so I left the inn, hoping that would be the extent of their intimidation, but four or five men must have followed me outside, for as I mounted my horse, I was instantly dragged to the ground. They began to pummel me, and had I not managed to grab my pistol as it fell from my inside pocket, they might have finished me. As it was, when I wielded the weapon, they scattered. My horse ran away when the scuffle began, and I feared they might return, so I walked the rest of the way here through the forest.”

  Just at that moment, Mr. Bivens and Mr. Carnes rushed into the foyer and helped Andrew to his feet again. As they carried him up the stairs, he shouted orders over his shoulder, “Post guards around the house. I want every available man on guard tonight. Tell the coachman to have my horse ready for departure early tomorrow, for I shall leave this damnable county behind at daylight.”

  “Where will you go?” Mr Lightfoot asked.

  Thinking he might have said too much already, Andrew said, “I have friends in York and Newcastle, so I may decide for there. Remember, tell no one I was here or where I have gone.”

  Lightfoot only nodded, for by then the men and Andrew had disappeared down a hallway. Not long afterward, his wife met him at bottom of the grand staircase.

  “Do you still think him to blame for Miss Harrington’s death, Homer?”

  Lightfoot looked around before answering. “I certainly believe that he raised her expectations. After all, I once heard him tell Landers that we might all be working with the staff from Marsden Park in the near future. That was right before he left for London as if his life depended on it.”

  As they began down another hall that led to their quarters, she offered, “His boast about having us work for Marsden Park was strange to say the least.”

  “Strange and incriminating, if you ask me. If I knew for sure that he caused that poor girl’s death, I would consider sending word to Marsden Park.”

  Mrs. Lightfoot stopped short. “Calm down before you have another one of your spells. You cannot make Mr. Darcy behave like a gentleman, no matter how much you may wish it.”

  “You are right, Eunice. Still, if there is any justice, whoever is responsible for that young
woman’s demise will be held accountable.”

  “They will. You have only to consider what the Bible says: ‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.’” 4

  “Sometimes one just needs reminding. Thank you, my dear.”

  Chapter 9

  London

  Bingley’s Townhouse

  As Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam alighted from his stallion in the rear of Charles Bingley’s house, he was full of anticipation. The note delivered to him at Darcy House early that morning had been very clear. He was not to bring attention to himself by making the trip in any conveyance with the Darcy markings or to be seen entering the front of Bingley’s house. This was different from his cousin’s normal modus operandi, and he was keen to discover the reason for such secrecy.

  Examining the tall, red-brick mansion as he gained his footing, he could not help but smile. Surely Darcy is not hiding right under Caroline Bingley’s nose!

  A groom rushing to take Titan’s reins interrupted his thoughts, and, nodding at the man, he ordered, “Give him some oats.” As Richard watched the animal being led away he added, “And a good rubdown.”

  The man nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Might as well let ol’ Bingley take care of Titan in the manner in which he has become accustomed at Darcy’s stables.

  Chuckling, he walked more spryly than usual to the rear entrance of the mansion and rapped on the door with the back of his knuckles.

  Instantly it flew open and a footman stepped aside. “Mr. Darcy is in the library, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  “Thank you,” Richard answered, wondering how the man knew his name. He shrugged. Most likely he knew only to expect a Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  Being familiar with Bingley’s residence, he went straight to the front of the house and entered the large library. Once inside, he stopped to look around, a bit irritated that William was nowhere in sight.

  “Darcy?”

  “Over here.”

  Making his way around a large, freestanding bookshelf, he spied his cousin atop a ladder that slid on rails across the length of the shelves occupying the wall.