The Road to Pemberley

by Marsha Altman

  “Georgiana, I will not tell you again.” Darcy turned abruptly to Mr. Pinncatch. “Thank you, sir, for attending to duty. However, it seems only prudent that I, too, lodge an objection to the ceremony between Miss Elizabeth and myself.”

  Georgiana drew in a sharp breath. “Fitzwilliam, you do not mean it!”

  Darcy turned a cold stare on Elizabeth. “This is what Miss Elizabeth wants.” He placed Georgiana on his arm and led her toward the exit, but he could not resist one departing barb. He paused beside Elizabeth. “How far would you have taken your plan to be rid of me, Elizabeth? Would you have claimed that the captain compromised you?” Mrs. Bennet protested and Miss Bennet gasped, but Darcy showed no other emotion. He walked out the door, Georgiana on his arm, never looking back.

  “Darcy, you cannot leave,” Bingley insisted as servants scrambled to pack Darcy’s coach for his departure.

  “What do you expect me to do, Bingley? Elizabeth does not wish to be my wife. She made that perfectly clear today. What a fool I have been!”

  “But you were to stand up with me tomorrow!”

  Darcy stopped his pacing. “Ask your brother Hurst. I cannot face Elizabeth again, and she must be with Miss Bennet for the wedding. Surely you understand that, Charles.”

  Bingley ran his fingers through his hair. “Of course, I understand. But what will you do? The short season is in full swing in London. You are not thinking of making an appearance. Your announcement has run in the Times.”

  Darcy’s heart sank. “I meant to return to London with Elizabeth at my side. Now, I do not care if I ever see the place again.”

  “I am amazed. I would never have thought that Miss Elizabeth would go to such extremes. People can speak of nothing else.”

  Darcy expelled a deep sigh. “Before a hundred witnesses, the lady has agreed to become Captain Hardesty’s wife, and although my heart screams with the injustice, I cannot hate Elizabeth. The thought of being my wife frightened her.” Darcy looked up to see Mr. Jordan at the door. “Be happy, Charles. Be happy enough for the both of us.” He shook Bingley’s hand before heading for the door.

  He fought the desire to turn back—to rush to Longbourn and beg Elizabeth to reconsider. Instead, Darcy helped Georgiana into the coach. Taking the backward-facing seat, he made himself smile at his sister. “What say you to returning to Derbyshire? I have no taste for London.”

  “Whatever you say, Fitzwilliam.”

  “Lizzy, tell me it is not as Mr. Darcy asserts,” Jane Bennet said when she cornered her sister in Elizabeth’s room. The family had endured continual whispers throughout Mr. Pinncatch’s sermon.

  “I did not imagine that Mr. Darcy would recognize my deceit,” Elizabeth confessed, feeling the tension draining from her.

  Jane towered over her. “Do you understand what you have done, Elizabeth? You have made a commitment to marry Matthew Hardesty. Before our good neighbors and friends, you have driven away the man you love. The man who returned that love. In order to prove a point. To win an argument. You have gambled with your future. Silly, idiotic pride! You have proven yourself to be exactly what Mr. Darcy feared.”

  Elizabeth did not answer. She simply rolled over and buried her face in her pillow. For long moments, she fought sobs. “I heard Mr. Darcy say that I would be a disappointment.” She clung to the last shreds of her pride.

  “Mr. Bingley reports that Mr. Darcy also said that, if necessary, he would look for a less traditional way of finding Miss Darcy a husband, and that Mr. Darcy swore his allegiance to you. He thought things would prove less stressful when you were alone at Pemberley. When you had time to get to know each other better.”

  “Oh, Jane, what have I done?”

  He had spent a week behind a locked door, coming out of his study only long enough to take his meals with Georgiana. He had stared out his window at the changing landscape. “Elizabeth and I were to have married today,” he quietly told Georgiana over breakfast. Constant thoughts of what might have been tormented him.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I am so sorry, Fitzwilliam.”

  Darcy closed his eyes to shut out the pain. “This is worse than when Elizabeth refused my proposal. At that time, I held the thread of a hope that someday Elizabeth would change her mind. That she would see me differently. That she would learn the truth—”

  “About Mr. Wickham,” Georgiana finished his sentence. “Yes, I know of Mr. Wickham’s failed seduction of Miss Elizabeth,” she explained when Darcy looked shocked. “You saved both of us from making a terrible mistake.”

  “Elizabeth told you of Mr. Wickham?”

  “We were to be sisters,” she said quietly. Nothing else needed to be said.

  Darcy swallowed hard. “I am sorry that I raised your hopes.”

  “My hopes are nothing compared with yours.”

  “Here you are,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said as he strolled into the library. “I have traveled half of England searching for you.” He flopped down in the chair across from Darcy.

  “I apologize, Cousin, for hiding in my home. Next time, I will seek a more obvious place,” Darcy said.

  “Very amusing.” The colonel looked about the room. “A bit gloomy in here. Why do you keep it dark when the sun shines brightly outside?”

  “The darkness fits my mood.” Darcy put his brandy glass on a side table. “What brings you to Pemberley, Edward?”

  The colonel stretched out his legs. “Well, let me see.” He held up one finger. “His Lordship read of your intended marriage in the London papers.” He held up a second finger. “He summoned me to Matlock to explain why no one had informed him of such a momentous occasion.” The colonel held up a third finger. “Father sent me to Hertfordshire to represent the family and to deliver a sharp reprimand to you for your neglect of him. I arrived, only to find that you and Georgiana had made an early departure, that Bingley had left for his wedding trip, and that the delectable Miss Elizabeth had also left the area.”

  “Left? To go where?” Darcy asked forlornly.

  The colonel smiled. “The lady told no one where she might be found. Miss Bingley, who was delighted with the situation, says Miss Elizabeth left only a brief note. Mr. Bennet has mounted a search.”

  Staring ahead, Darcy ignored the reference to Caroline Bingley. “But Elizabeth was to marry Captain Hardesty.”

  “What caused the rift, Darcy? You desired Miss Elizabeth long before we were at Rosings.”

  Darcy glared at his cousin. “Who speaks of my private life?”

  “Do you think Lady Catherine did not inform her brother of your so-called betrayal of our cousin Anne? When Father asked what I knew of Miss Elizabeth, I filled in the blanks that Her Ladyship had omitted from her version of events. Your moodiness made sense in light of Lady Catherine’s disclosure.”

  Darcy ignored his cousin’s evaluation of his attempt to cover the fact that he had been heartbroken after Elizabeth rejected his proposal at Rosings. Now, someone had reached into his chest and ripped out the pieces. “I criticized the lady,” he said evenly. “Elizabeth has an impulsive nature. She finds herself in embarrassing and even dangerous situations because she does not think before she acts. I tried to caution her that, as my wife, she could not behave foolishly. I wanted to shield Elizabeth from censure. I wanted people to love her the way they did my mother.”

  “Oh yes.” The colonel smiled ruefully. “Miss Elizabeth should model herself after Lady Anne Darcy.” An eyebrow raised in amusement. “Tell me, Darcy, where did Miss Elizabeth fail? Was it the fact that the lady could match wits with you? I recall my aunt—your mother—taking your father to task in the same manner. Or maybe it was Lady Anne’s artfulness that Miss Elizabeth lacked.” Darcy flinched. “Do you not remember snowball battles, with both your parents taking on you, Wickham, and me? Or the time Lady Anne decided that she wanted honey straight from the hive? We left the picnic to the ants as we all dove into the lake, fully clothed, to escape the swarm.”

  “I hav
e never laughed so hard,” Darcy’s face softened. “Mama lost her favorite slippers in the water.”

  “I ruined my new waistcoat.” The colonel paused again. “And Georgie reports that Mrs. Reynolds was quite taken with Miss Elizabeth. It would seem to me that winning the praise of Pemberley’s paragon of housekeeping would be evidence of Miss Elizabeth’s ability to garner the respect of your staff and your tenants.”

  Darcy groaned. “I have been an idiot.”

  “What do you plan to do about it?”

  Darcy knew that Bingley had taken his new wife to Europe for a couple of months. “That is not a source I can use in Meryton,” he said as he took foolscap from a drawer to draft a letter. “Where would Elizabeth go?” he mused.

  With the colonel’s advice, he had already recruited a Bow Street runner to check the Gardiners’ household. He thought to call on Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle himself, but Darcy knew the Gardiners would protect their niece. “Surely the Collinses would not accept her after Elizabeth’s confrontation with Lady Catherine. Collins fears my aunt too much.” Darcy tapped the pen’s feather against his chin.

  Because he was deep in thought, it took a moment for the rap at the door to register. “Come!” he called with some irritation.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Darcy.” His butler stood by the open door. “You have a visitor, sir.”

  “I am busy, Mr. Naismith. Who is it?”

  “A Captain Matthew Hardesty, sir. The gentleman insists on seeing you.”

  Darcy growled, “Of all the bloody nerve.” Composing himself, he said, “Show the gentleman in, Mr. Naismith.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Darcy fought the urge to find his sword and run the captain through. Then the man was at the door. The captain bowed stiffly. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Darcy.”

  “You should come in, Hardesty. I would prefer that my servants did not witness my tearing you apart limb by limb.” Darcy withheld his bow.

  Hardesty stepped into the room. He held up his pinned sleeve. “Start with this limb, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Touché, sir. What are you doing in Derbyshire, Hardesty? I am afraid that I have run out of fiancées for you to claim.” Darcy wanted to maintain civility, but the man had cost him his chance at happiness.

  The captain looked about the room. “You are as rich as Croesus,” he remarked. “My selfishness has cost Miss Elizabeth a great estate.” He turned defiantly to Darcy. “She has not come to Pemberley?”

  “Do you suppose I would tell you if Miss Elizabeth were here?”

  “I suppose not, but I promised Mr. Bennet that I would seek his daughter under your roof.” The man frowned.

  “What makes you believe Miss Elizabeth is not at Pemberley?” Darcy asked.

  “The dark circles under your eyes. You are not sleeping, Mr. Darcy.” He smiled slightly. “If Elizabeth Bennet were under your roof, you would be gloating. Instead, you are as frantic as I am.”

  Darcy had had enough of the all-knowing captain. “I am afraid that I have other business, Hardesty. Unless there is something more than your speculations, I must ask you to leave.”

  “You do not deserve her,” the captain charged.

  Darcy turned back to his desk, dismissing the man without a word. Angrily, the captain strode from the room. Darcy waited until the sound of Hardesty’s footsteps receded before he allowed himself to respond. “I may not deserve her, but I need Elizabeth Bennet as much as I need my next breath.”

  “Have you found her?” Georgiana asked over supper.

  Darcy had finally confided in his sister. Sharing his anguish gave him some peace. “I have people searching in every place of which I can think. When Hardesty was here, he said Mr. Bennet thought Elizabeth might have come to me. That means the Bennets are also in the dark about Elizabeth’s whereabouts. So Miss Elizabeth probably left in the middle of the night. I did receive one bit of good news: the paperwork from Mr. Pinncatch. It seems the captain confessed his lie to the vicar. Pinncatch assumed that Miss Elizabeth and I would reconcile.”

  Georgiana’s expression showed her concern. “I have been thinking a great deal on the matter, and I have a theory if you are willing to listen.”

  Darcy’s lips curved into a patient smile. “Why not?”

  “If I were Miss Elizabeth, I would realize that you would not give up that easily. She knows she was wrong, and Elizabeth is ashamed of what she has done to you. Yet, like you said about holding onto hope’s thread, Elizabeth is hoping you will come for her. She is waiting for you, Fitzwilliam.”

  Darcy said amusedly, “How do you know all this?”

  “Because I am a female. We think differently from men. We want our knight in shining armor. We want men to make the grand gesture.”

  Darcy’s smile increased. “You have been reading too many Minerva Press books.”

  Georgiana shrugged and said, “Do you want to know where to find Elizabeth or not?”

  Darcy frowned. “You really believe that you have figured this out?”

  “Of course, I have.” Georgiana sipped her tea, prolonging his anguish. “If I were Miss Elizabeth, I would go to the one place you would never consider. I would seek shelter from someone you hated. Someone you would never want to see again.”

  “Wickham.” Darcy saw it plainly. “You are absolutely uncanny, my dear.”

  “Thank you.” Georgiana giggled. “Do you think it possible?”

  “So possible that I will be off to Newcastle at first light.”

  “Would you take a letter to my new sister for me?”

  “Georgiana, at this moment, I would give you anything you desired.”

  “Just a sister. All my own.”

  Darcy had ridden hard for three days to reach Northumberland. Finally, in the late morning of the third day, he rode into the street where he knew George Wickham had taken rooms. When he first found his old enemy’s post, Darcy had made it a point to locate a man who would send him regular reports on Wickham’s activities. He tossed a coin to a street urchin who ran out to hold his horse. “Walk him a bit to cool him down.”

  “Right, Gov’ner.”

  “Do you know whether Lieutenant Wickham is in?” Darcy looked up at the boarding house windows.

  “The fancy one?” the boy asked.

  Darcy smiled knowingly. “That is the one.”

  “Hasn’t come down yet.”

  Darcy handed the boy another coin. “Keep my horse close.” Then he made his way into the building. Although it was not in the best area, the house’s interior was cleaner than he expected. Within moments, he found the marked door for which he searched. Rapping heavily on the knocker, Darcy waited impatiently for someone to answer. Finally, the door swung wide, and the man he most hated stood on the other side of the threshold.

  “Darcy!” Wickham seemed truly surprised to see him. “What brings you to no-man’s-land?”

  “You know why I am here.” Darcy tried to see beyond Wickham to the interior rooms.

  Wickham gestured him in, leaving the door ajar. “I am afraid that you have me at a loss. Hopefully, you have found a way to end my marriage, and you have come to take Mrs. Wickham back to Hertfordshire.”

  “Not likely.” Darcy stood in the main room’s middle. “Is Mrs. Wickham not at home?”

  Wickham picked up his abandoned cup. “I am sure my wife is out spending money we do not have.” He gulped the last of the coffee. “I am still awaiting an explanation for your visit.”

  “I came for Miss Elizabeth.” He hated to give away his personal information to someone with Wickham’s instinct for manipulation. “Is Miss Elizabeth residing with your wife or not?” he demanded.

  Wickham smiled deviously. “I would say that the lady is residing more with me than with Lydia. A woman with a broken heart needs comforting.”

  Wickham had done this to Darcy all their lives—this pulling at Darcy’s sense of honor—but the man did not understand that for Darcy reason did not exist when it came t
o Elizabeth Bennet. The words had no more escaped Wickham’s lips before Darcy pounced on the man.

  They hit the floor in a mass of arms and legs. Punches landed. Jabs blackened eyes and tore lips, but still the fight continued. Furniture exploded under the force of their combined weight. For nearly two decades, Darcy had concealed his feelings. Now, they poured out in each punch. Each strike. Every taunt. Every manipulation. Every disservice he had suffered at Wickham’s hand guided Darcy’s assault.

  Within minutes, Darcy straddled a semiconscious Wickham and literally pounded the man’s head into the wooden floor.

  “Oh, my God!” Elizabeth gasped as they turned the corner and headed toward her sister’s let rooms.

  “What is it, Lizzy?” Lydia Wickham reached for Elizabeth’s hand.

  “Mr. Darcy. He is here.” Seeing the waiting horse, Elizabeth caught her skirt tail and ran for the boarding house.

  “Lizzy!” Lydia chased after her.

  Elizabeth slammed open the outside door and raced up the stairs. The noise from Mr. Wickham’s rooms told her trouble waited. She could hear Lydia struggling with the basket that Elizabeth dropped on the first landing, but she did not stop. Completely out of breath, she burst through the partially opened door. “Fitzwilliam!” she called, but he did not hear her. He sat astride her sister’s husband, intent on doing the man bodily harm.

  “This is for leaving me on Dark Peak for two days when we were twelve!” Darcy caught Wickham’s head with his large palms, lifted it, and slammed it into the floor.

  “This is for weaseling your way into my father’s good graces!” Slam.

  “This is for Georgiana.” Slam.

  “This is for Eliza…”

  Elizabeth propelled herself onto Darcy’s back; her arms locked around his neck, struggling to pull him backward before he killed George Wickham. “Fitzwilliam! Stop! Please stop!” She managed to knock him sideways, and they tumbled to the floor together. “Fitzwilliam, I am here,” she said to pacify him.