At Last: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

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At Last: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 22

by Anne Morris


  Fourteen

  —

  A Dilemma Continued & a Dinner

  Darcy did not know what to do with himself that day. He had initially planned to talk to Elizabeth about Lydia's behavior, but then to see her walk away on Wolton-Fane's arm, see her drive away in that curricle in what was obviously a planned meeting had so shocked him that he was distracted from his earlier plans of confronting her about the wanton behavior of Lydia Bennet in inducing Georgiana to go look at the men's bathing beach. He spent the majority of the day wondering about the nature of Elizabeth and Wolton-Fane's relationship that she would ride away with him. Was it characteristic of her that she would run into an acquaintance and go for a drive?—were they friends? What did that mean? Was there something more secretive, more sinister, about Miss Bennet than he heretofore thought?

  He did not seek her out the next day, but it was Sunday, after all, and he did see her briefly in church, but he hurried Georgiana and Mrs. Younge out the door and away, and did not permit them to greet the Bennet family, hurrying them home before they could speak together.

  He related Captain Gage's visit, and the substance of Georgiana and Lydia's behavior to Mrs. Younge Sunday evening, in a private conference with the companion. Without inviting her to sit down, he let her know that he felt that she was neglecting her duties because she had not been with the young ladies that morning. Mrs. Younge was profuse in her apologies, and said that she had been indisposed that morning, and had told Georgiana that she had needed to stay inside. Mrs. Younge had not realized that Georgiana had even left the premises. Darcy did not go so far as to thank her, but he nodded and dismissed her, and then mulled over this piece of information from Mrs. Younge while he drank a brandy.

  He considered that if Georgiana had snuck out from under Mrs. Younge's care, there was, perhaps, some complicity that had to fall on Georgiana's shoulders—this was not a case simply of Lydia's being to blame if Georgiana had deliberately left, when Mrs. Younge had told her she needed to stay home. There had been some determination, some premeditation, on Georgiana's part to partake in this adventure of going to see the men's beach and attempting to watch them bathe naked.

  By Monday, he was calmer and less inclined to be pointing a finger when he encountered Miss Bennet, but he still left with extra time, leaving earlier than he normally did, and it was as he was walking along Friar's Way, quite near the post office, that he spied her. He saw her raise her hand, but it was not in greeting to him, but to Mr. Wolton-Fane, who came up to her waving a handful of correspondence. The gentleman held out his hand, and they entered the post office together. Darcy waited until they came out, then they turned, and walked up the street at a very slow pace, lost in conversation to the end of the road, until they reached its terminus. Wolton-Fane bowed, let go of Elizabeth's hand, and Darcy could hear her say good-bye. She turned back down the lane and spied him.

  "Good morning," said Elizabeth. He merely nodded to her. "I was just seeing Mr. Wolton-Fane off to begin his day," she continued, and pointed in the direction he had gone. "We often meet up in the mornings. He is here to mail letters for Mr. Peterson, and I am here to see if my sisters have written." He nodded his head again. "I have had one from Jane," she began walking towards her house.

  "Do you hear from your sisters frequently?" he spoke at last.

  "They are each a different sort of correspondent, but as they combine their letters to save money, I need to wait until they have finished their compositions before I receive any letter." He wanted to ask about her meeting with Wolton-Fane, and her comment about seeing him off on his day, but he instead, asked about her letters.

  "So it seems the times I have run into you, you were seeking letters from your family?"

  "Yes," she replied. "And even from my friends, Charlotte has written to me as well." She showed him that she had two letters in her hand. The conversation stalled then, and he found nothing he could say. She however continued. "I am looking forward to the dinner tomorrow night, and I know Lydia is as well; she enjoys Miss Darcy's company."

  Something passed over his face that she must have seen, as she schooled her own, frowning slightly.

  "I have something of a delicate nature to discuss with you, Miss Bennet, some news. I wonder if I might walk with you, to your house, that we might have a private audience?" She was surprised by his request, but agreed to it.

  It was only a walk of five or six minutes, but he could sense that his companion was uncomfortable, and they could find no topics to discuss during their walk to Silver House. They entered the house, and after removing her bonnet, she looked up at him with inquiring eyes. It seems Elizabeth did not wish to break the silence that had begun on their walk, though her face betrayed her curiosity as to his news.

  "If you would be so good as to also call your mother, this news affects her as well," he said. Her curiosity and surprise grew that Mrs. Bennet was involved.

  "Very well, Mr. Darcy," and she went to find her mother sitting in one of the parlors, none of the other occupants were home. She came back to fetch Mr. Darcy to her mother, who was curious and excited that she had brought that gentleman home, almost as if she anticipated they were announcing an engagement between the two of them.

  "Tea, Mr. Darcy?" asked the mistress of the house as soon as he had taken a seat.

  "No, I thank you," he replied. He looked from the overly eager face of Mrs. Bennet, to the confused face of Elizabeth. "I have, as I explained, some news. A report was brought to me that your daughter and my sister attempted, a number of days ago, to move down into such a position that they could view the men's bathing beach." It was a straight-forward statement, but not without some underlying embarrassment in speaking it. He watched Elizabeth, who blushed and turned away. Mrs. Bennet smiled and nodded as if she had expected such an event.

  "Oh! That is just like Lydia. I am afraid my young son put such an idea into her head as he went bathing with Captain Gage, and Simon let slip that the men bathed, well, you know," it seemed Mrs. Bennet was not entirely so vulgar as to discuss states of undress in mixed company. Elizabeth sat with her hands in her lap, staring down at them.

  "I am concerned that this was Miss Lydia's idea, and that she encouraged my sister to attempt such a scheme," he said, looking directly at the matron, who looked back at him nonplussed. "I would ask you to speak to your daughter about her behavior, how inappropriate it was in this case, and to also ask that you ensure she not slip out without a proper chaperone." He rose then.

  "I will speak to my daughter for sure, Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Bennet rising as he turned to leave the room. "You can be sure she shall hear about it. We look forward to seeing you at your party tomorrow evening!" she called to him as he opened and shut the door behind him.

  Mrs. Bennet turned to look at Elizabeth who still sat with her hands in her lap. "Well Lizzy, it seems Simon gave our Lydia some interesting ideas about checking out the men folk; I cannot say I blame her. I probably would have done the same thing myself when I was fifteen; I was curious about such things."

  "Mamma!" called Elizabeth, looking up. "How can you make light of this?" Elizabeth was equal parts mortified and indignant. Mortified that Lydia, who was naturally so spirited that she would attempt such a thing as to spy on men bathing naked, but indignant as to Mr. Darcy's presumptions that Lydia had dragged Miss Darcy into the scheme, and that Georgiana seemed not complicit in any way. It appeared both girls had slipped away one morning from their companions to attempt the scheme, yet he made this appear as if it was entirely the fault of Lydia.

  She wished her mother had not blurted out the fact that Simon had mentioned the men's bathing beaches, as though that was somehow accepting fault in light of Mr. Darcy's accusations. All of her former resentment against him came rushing back. His pride and disdain for others, his treatment of Mr. Wickham, his treatment of his friend in pulling Mr. Bingley from Jane's side. She stopped to consider whether he had influenced Mr. Bingley to stay away once he had left, an
d imagined she would not be surprised if he had.

  • • •

  Elizabeth was occupied in considering what she knew about Mr. Darcy. She had to admit she had such differing views about him. Her opinion of him had morphed and changed of late. She indulged, that Monday afternoon, in thinking over their history. He had not thought she was handsome enough to be introduced to the first day they had met at the Assembly ball. He was not one who ever welcomed the company of others, and had seemed to almost seek to prove that point by being disdainful and standoffish whenever they had met in company.

  Mr. Darcy was not a man who readily engaged with his fellow creatures. She had often wondered why he bothered to put himself in social situations if he found them unpleasant. Her father preferred books to people, so he stayed at home with his books. Why had Mr. Darcy not learned that lesson yet? His manners were lacking; he did not seem to care about other people, especially those from a different sphere. He needed to either improve how he interacted with people, or decide that staying home with whatever activity he liked best was an acceptable alternative. She truly did not care for him, especially when she compared him with Mr. Wolton-Fane whose company she enjoyed, even though she knew that their time was to come to an end, and she knew there was no future for them.

  Mrs. Bennet had been hinting that after they attended the dance at the Long Room, they should return home. Her mother was starting to talk more and more about all their little discoveries in Scarborough that she would be able to relate to her neighbors, which meant she was ready to be back in Meryton society, ready to be gossiping with the neighbors, and as such, they needed to make arrangements for the trip (though they had their new dresses to wear to the dance).

  The three Bennet sisters who had been in Christchurch were due to return at the end of the month, and that terrible business in London had slipped from everyone's mind, no one discussed in anymore, so it seemed an appropriate time to go home. It had been weeks since Mrs. Bennet mentioned anything to do with the 'horrid murders' in London which had sent them all packing.

  Elizabeth was looking forward to returning home. Her sister's letters spoke of a trip which had been disappointing, as the weather had been quite wet and forced them to keep indoors most of the time. So though they had been able to 'get away,' the delights of visiting a new part of the country had not been entirely met. January was not the best time for holidays to the south coast, apparently.

  Charlotte had also written, and after many paragraphs about little events and outings, and details of some of her charity work, she mentioned at the end of her missive that her mother's brother had written to her. She did not state any reasons as to why her uncle had contacted her, but Elizabeth could tell that her friend was nervous to hear from this uncle after twenty-seven years of silence. He had, to her knowledge, never met his niece—perhaps he attended his sister's funeral—but Charlotte could never recall meeting Mr. Wilding. It gave Elizabeth even more reason to be at home to hear the full story from Charlotte's lips, to hear what she would not set down with pen to paper.

  • • •

  He had never dreaded an evening more, and yet it was his party, so he must play host. With Georgiana not out yet, she did not have a role to play—it was Mrs. Younge who was his hostess. His sister's companion was quiet and gracious; she seemed distant since they had spoken about Captain Gage's report, as if she was overly distressed by his castigation of her oversight in keeping an eye on her charge, or her actual failure to do so.

  Darcy had invited every appropriate young lady they knew in Scarborough, hoping he might distract or redirect his sister's attentions from Lydia Bennet's side. He had avoided speaking directly to Georgiana about the incident, but he presumed that Mrs. Younge had. She must have, if she wished to retain her role as companion to Miss Darcy, it would be expected that she would speak to her charge. His drawing room soon resounded with the chatter of a multitude of high-pitched feminine voices, relieved by only the occasional tenor one in a corner.

  The young ladies, Mrs. Peterson, and a few of the mothers had formed a loose group around Darcy, and he found he could not follow the train of the conversation as there never seemed to be any substance to it. One of the mothers asked him a question that made him realize that none of these girls were the last bit interested in befriending his sister, but they had come only with the idea of considering Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy as a potential suitor. He groaned inwardly as he realized his mistake and how very long the evening would be.

  Georgiana stood apart with Lydia, talking happily together; Mrs. Bennet was at her side. All three were animated, and no doubt, pleased with the prospects for the evening. His cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was there making an inspection of the army barracks, looked equally as engaged speaking to Captain Gage and Captain Wylde.

  Mr. Peterson stood in a group speaking to some men, looking serious, and no doubt, discussing politics. Darcy's eyes then sought out the two he least wished to view, the two whose relationship he both wanted to know more of, and dreaded to hear about: Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Wolton-Fane stood together. It was just the two of them, standing quietly, intimately, and with eyes only for each other. Again something in his gut twisted as he watched them.

  He had watched them ride off in the curricle that morning, and had seen the way they greeted each other the day before; he had suspected a clandestine meeting and his imagination had taken hold. He found he was unable to think logically, discern the facts as presented before him, and had imagined a differing number of reasons for their meetings. But Georgiana had told him yesterday evening that Lydia had known of it—the curricle ride—and it had been sanctioned by Mrs. Bennet as all above board and properly chaperoned.

  He had played his instrument late into the night, working through his feelings, and realized he had to add jealousy to the mixture of ones as related to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Jealousy of her time and of her acquaintance with Mr. Wolton-Fane.

  He watched them as surreptitiously as he could, and it was obvious that she enjoyed the secretary's company, the way her face lit up when they spoke. He wondered what they talked about, was it politics? He could imagine Elizabeth Bennet tackling any subject with relish. Darcy had written back to Mr. Peterson to extend the invitation to Mr. Wolton-Fane after receiving that short note. It was always good to keep a man like Mr. Peterson on his side, as much as he had wished to not be pressured into inviting Wolton-Fane to the party.

  • • •

  Even though she had argued vehemently with her mother that new dresses were not needed for a supper party, Elizabeth had still dressed with care. She had been pleased with the reflection she saw in her looking glass. She had looked forward to a pleasant evening, knowing that Mr. Wolton-Fane would attend, and she would have more than fifteen minutes of his time for once.

  After she arrived, she found, however, that he was not as available as she had hoped. He stood with a group of men discussing Peninsula news as near as she could tell, and Elizabeth was content to wait for his time. Phoebe Church discovered her, moving next to her to lament that Mr. Darcy was surrounded by a gaggle of women, and Miss Church had not been able to say a proper greeting to him "and as far as I understand, none of them have ever met him until this very evening. They have heard about his estate and are attempting to catch his eye." Phoebe glanced at the group of young women and their chaperones, all with hungry expressions for this most eligible gentleman. "I have known him longer." There was something that sounded almost like a child lamenting a lost toy, but Elizabeth did not say anything, she simply smiled at her acquaintance.

  "I suppose there shall be no dancing," continued Miss Church, "there are not as many gentlemen as I had hoped. I wonder that we came at all."

  "I am sure it will be a pleasant evening, Miss Church," replied Elizabeth. "There are a number of gentlemen and ladies you certainly know," said Elizabeth, who nodded her head and scanned her eyes around the room. But Phoebe Church had already convinced herself that she would not enjo
y the evening despite its being Mr. Darcy's dinner party, and walked away.

  Mr. Wolton-Fane took Miss Church's place by Elizabeth's side. "How are you doing this fine evening?" he asked.

  "I am perfectly well," she replied with a smile.

  "I was pleased Darcy changed his mind and allowed me to come," said Mr. Wolton-Fane. "He apparently had not initially extended the invitation to include me, but Peterson dashed him off a note to beg him to allow me to attend."

  "I wonder why Mr. Darcy did not invite you?" she was surprised to hear he had been initially excluded from the event.

  His face broke into a grin. "I wonder indeed," he replied. They both looked over at their host who was still cornered with a contingent of young ladies talking to him. "Peterson cannot function without me, had to have me, and Darcy acquiesced." He looked at her, no longer grinning, but still with a smile that was contagious, and it made her smile in return.

  "Actually, Mr. Peterson and I shall be leaving tomorrow. A small dispute has broken out, and he has to go in person to handle it. We shall be gone through the end of the week. As I said, Peterson cannot cope without me," said Mr. Wolton-Fane.

  "You are ever-indispensable, are you not?" she said. "I shall miss you on my morning walks."

  They spoke for a few minutes more, but then to her dismay he excused himself to go speak with Miss Darcy. She supposed he must be ensuring that he thank his hostess for the evening. Elizabeth watched as he lingered to talk in his usual animated manner to Georgiana, Lydia, and a number of other young women who were in their circle.

  Captain Gage came upon her, and introduced another solider whom she had not yet met. "Miss Bennet, I should like to introduce Colonel Fitzwilliam. He is currently visiting us, and is doing an inspection of the barracks," the captain had a small grin on his face, and she suspected that such a grin on a gentleman's face indicated that there was some joke that they would not, and could not, share with the ladies.

 

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