When Jane Got Angry

by Victoria Kincaid

  “Do not mind Uncle,” Jane said. “He hates when situations evade his control.”

  Bingley tugged at his cravat. “Yes, well, I do not enjoy being called to the carpet like an errant schoolboy, but I hope to receive a warmer reception at Longbourn.”

  The love shining in Jane’s eyes rendered everything else irrelevant. “You will. They will not care two whits for how you proposed.”

  His thumb caressed the back of her hand. “I cannot believe I proposed before a crowd of hundreds!” He shook his head at his own daring.

  “You could have made me the offer on the mud flats of the Thames, and I would have accepted.”

  “Since I have no intention of proposing again, we need not test that claim.”

  She looked down at the floor. “When you first told me of your sister’s gossiping, I feared you would declare you could not propose.”

  “I nearly allowed her to delay my offer,” Bingley admitted, disgusted with himself. “In the carriage she issued terrible threats about how she would ruin your life if I proposed.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Ironically enough, one reason was Darcy. In a letter from Rosings, he told me he was planning to— Oh hell!” Bingley clapped his hand over his mouth. This is why nobody should ever tell me secrets. “I apologize for my language,” he muttered.

  She waved this away. “Planning to…?”

  Bingley supposed couples who were about to be married should not keep secrets from each other. “Darcy plans to make an offer of marriage to your sister.”

  Jane’s jaw dropped open. “Elizabeth?”

  Bingley chuckled. “Unless you have another sister visiting Rosings Park.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes went wide as if Bingley had revealed Darcy’s plot to assassinate the Prince Regent. “Oh no!”

  This was not the reaction Bingley anticipated, but he continued, “I believed it was an auspicious sign for our union. The master of Pemberley conferring his blessing upon your family and all that.”

  Jane nodded with a slightly horrified stare. “Perhaps it would be—if Lizzy accepted.”

  Bingley frowned at Jane. “You think she—? No!” That was ridiculous. Darcy was one of the most eligible men in Britain. He could not imagine someone in Elizabeth Bennet’s position rejecting his offer.

  “I know she will reject him,” Jane whispered miserably. “She does not like Mr. Darcy at all.”

  Bingley was stunned. “Not like him? Why in the world would she not like Darcy?”

  “She has taken offense at some of his statements.”

  Well…Bingley could understand that. Darcy, insisting on strict truth, often was more honest than was necessary.

  “And Mr. Wickham told Lizzy a story of how Mr. Darcy cheated him out of a living which was to be his.”

  Bingley again suppressed an urge to curse. “Darcy paid Wickham his inheritance when the man professed no inclination to take orders. Then Wickham proceeded to squander it on drink and gambling.”

  “Oh.” Jane’s brows drew together. “He completely deceived Lizzy!”

  “No doubt Wickham also neglected to mention how he tried to induce Georgiana Darcy to elope with him when she was only fifteen?”

  “How terrible!”

  “I only learned of it recently when Darcy told me the story—in his cups. He does not share it readily. I cannot imagine he has told Miss Elizabeth.”

  Jane’s hands were kneading the fine silk of her gown. “Oh, Lizzy does not truly understand Mr. Darcy’s character! She will refuse his offer because of Mr. Wickham’s lies! What a terrible muddle!”

  Meanwhile, Bingley was imagining Darcy’s perspective. “Darcy will walk onto a battlefield without the least knowledge of the ambush lying in wait. He is, I am sure, quite certain of an acceptance.” Bingley was particularly sensitive to the vulnerabilities of a man who was making an offer of marriage.

  Tears sprang to Jane’s eyes. “Charles, it will be a disaster! They will hate each other forever!”

  Bingley had a sudden vision of his wedding day: Darcy standing by Bingley’s side and Elizabeth at Jane’s. While Bingley and Jane smiled lovingly at each other, everyone in the church would watch Darcy and Elizabeth glare at each other with thinly veiled contempt.

  He and Jane would spend the rest of their lives trying to keep two of the people they loved best in the world from ever inhabiting the same room. Suddenly their future did not seem quite so inviting. “But what can we do?” he asked. Bingley and Jane seemed doomed to anticipate the carriage wreck while being helpless to slow the horses.

  Jane was now wringing her hands. “We must prevent him from making an offer!”

  Bingley gaped at her. “How might we accomplish that?”

  “Kent is not so very far. If we travel tonight, we might be there in the morning. You could explain the situation to Mr. Darcy, and I will tell Lizzy what I have learned.”

  There were so many obstacles to this plan that Bingley did not know where to begin his objections. “The offer may have already occurred. We may arrive too late.”

  Jane sighed, but then she shook her head. “At least then we might help to mitigate the damage and repair their opinions of each other.”

  Bingley could envision Darcy, ensconced in his room at Rosings, fuming over Elizabeth’s rejection while she stomped around Hunsford Parsonage, complaining about the arrogance of his proposal. Such an outcome was all too easy to picture. Darcy and Elizabeth would part ways in bitterness, vowing to nevermore have dealings with each other. And there was nobody at Rosings or Hunsford who might soothe such proud and angry feelings.

  However, if Bingley and Jane arrived, they might be able to explain the misunderstandings and untangle Wickham’s lies. They might lessen the damage.

  And they were the only ones who could do so.

  Still… “Jane, we may be betrothed, but we cannot share a carriage unchaperoned.”

  Jane’s shoulders slumped. “I had not considered that. But we cannot simply allow this disaster to take place! Perhaps Uncle Gardiner can send a chaperone with us.”

  Bingley envisioned Gardiner’s face moments ago. “Well, I suppose we might ask him. But I do not hold out much hope.”

  ***

  Jane peered out of the window at the Kent countryside. Under other circumstances she would have been excited to visit a new place, but it was difficult to appreciate the beauty of the budding spring flowers and the trees with a fuzz of green waiting to burst into bouquets of leaves. Instead, she fought a sense of impending dread. What would they find when they arrived at Hunsford? Cold politeness between Lizzy and Mr. Darcy? A bitter war of words? Perhaps.

  Misunderstandings? Hurt feelings? Almost inevitably.

  Charles and I can fix it. No matter the rift between them, somehow we can mend it. Jane had repeated this to herself again and again throughout the journey. Unfortunately, she did not quite believe it. The longer she and Charles had spoken about Lizzy and Mr. Darcy, the more Jane realized that they misunderstood each other in many fundamental ways. They might as well speak different languages.

  It was difficult to imagine anything arising from Mr. Darcy’s proposal other than disaster. Then Jane and Charles would be asked to choose sides. Events in Hunsford and Rosings threatened to prevent or destroy their marriage.

  The situation had already created difficulties. Obtaining Uncle Gardiner’s consent for the journey had taken hours; fortunately, her aunt had agreed with Jane’s assessment and had helped to sway her uncle’s decision.

  Her uncle would not allow her to travel at night, so Jane had impatiently awaited the sunrise when Mr. Bingley’s carriage arrived to collect her and Aunt Gardiner, who was serving as their chaperone. Jane had not wanted to take her aunt away from her children, but the older woman insisted. As they hastily packed their trunks, she had confided to Jane that she felt responsible for giving Lizzy faulty advice regarding Mr. Darcy and wanted to correct her error.

>   In place of riding to Longbourn for her father’s consent, Charles had dashed off a quick note to Hertfordshire with a solemn promise to visit as soon as he was able. Jane had assured her uncle that her father would consent, and he had grudgingly agreed to such a compromise.

  Despite the anxiety hanging thick in the air, Jane could not help smiling at Charles, who was seated opposite her inside the coach. He was hers now. Her betrothed. Soon to be her husband. A secret thrill raced through her every time she laid eyes on him.

  The carriage turned along a wide curve in the road, and Jane spied the smaller carriage following theirs. One of Bingley’s footmen drove the vehicle containing Maggie and Charles’s valet—and all the luggage. A quick glimpse through the window showed the couple holding hands, deep in conversation. Jane could not help smiling. Charles caught her eye and grinned as well. “Perhaps I should have brought a chaperone for your maid, Mrs. Gardiner.”

  The older woman rolled her eyes and laughed. “I would expect your valet to act like a gentleman, sir.”

  Charles eyed the pair through the window. “I did speak with Harvey about it. His intentions are honorable. I have no doubt he will make her an offer, if he has not already.”

  Aunt Gardiner gave Jane an amused sidelong glance. “You two are quite the matchmakers. First your servants and now Lizzy and Mr. Darcy.”

  Jane squirmed in her seat. “I am not convinced that Lizzy and Mr. Darcy are a match that should be made, aunt.”

  “I must admit,” said Aunt Gardiner, “I was a bit shocked at the notion that Mr. Darcy might propose to Lizzy.” She raised an eyebrow in Charles’s direction as if suggesting he might have been in error.

  He remained unruffled. “When Darcy first confessed his love for Miss Elizabeth, I was initially quite surprised. The only way in which they seem at all alike is in their strong opinions.” Jane muffled a laugh. “But gradually I came to believe she is precisely the right woman for him.”

  “Indeed?” Aunt Gardiner now raised both of her eyebrows.

  “Darcy has been a prize on the marriage mart for many years and yet has resisted the charms of any numbers of women—who flatter and praise him, agreeing with his every utterance.”

  “Lizzy would not do so!” Aunt Gardiner exclaimed.

  “Precisely!” Charles agreed.

  Jane’s thoughts had run along remarkably similar lines. “So Mr. Darcy likes her spirit—and appreciates the value of a woman who does not constantly agree with him.”

  “Yes.”

  Jane shivered a little despite the warmth of her pelisse. There was more at stake than she had initially believed. More than Lizzy and Mr. Darcy’s friendship. More than the happiness of Jane and Charles’s marriage. Lizzy and Mr. Darcy might lose their only chance at true happiness. “I hope we are in time.”

  Charles grimaced. “Indeed.”

  They exchanged worried glances, wondering what they would do if they were too late.

  Chapter Nine

  Finally, the carriage arrived at Rosings Park, circling the drive and stopping before the towering oak doors that marked the front entrance. The house was far grander than any Jane had ever seen; even Charles gaped for a moment.

  Once he recovered his composure, he jumped from the carriage and knocked. They had all agreed that he should be the one to speak to Mr. Darcy. However, Charles hurried out of the house again within five minutes and climbed into the carriage after a brief word with the driver.

  “Is Mr. Darcy not in residence?” Jane asked.

  “Everyone else is having tea at Rosings Park, but Miss Elizabeth remained at the parsonage with a headache. Darcy excused himself, and Colonel Fitzwilliam believes he may be visiting Hunsford to inquire after her health.”

  Jane bit her lip and exchanged a look with Charles as they shared the same thought: Mr. Darcy might take the opportunity to propose. Were they in time to prevent the imminent disaster?

  As the carriage lurched into movement, Charles shook his head with a rueful chuckle. “Only Darcy would believe a woman with a headache was in the proper mood for an offer of marriage.”

  Jane nodded sagely. “Indeed. Everyone knows it is best to propose when a woman is out of breath from vigorous dancing.”

  They all laughed.

  “The colonel did not appear to have any knowledge that Mr. Darcy had proposed already?” Jane asked Charles.

  “I could hardly have asked that question, but I sensed no particular urgency or concern when he mentioned Miss Elizabeth.”

  Perhaps we are in time to prevent disaster!

  Hunsford Parsonage adjoined Rosings Park, but the estate was so vast that the ride still took several minutes. When the carriage arrived at the parsonage’s front door, a horse was tied nearby.

  “That is Darcy’s horse,” Charles observed a bit breathlessly.

  This time Jane followed Charles out of the carriage, with Aunt Gardiner hard on her heels. A rather slovenly maid admitted them and, when they inquired about Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, gestured toward the drawing room with little apparent concern about allowing strangers to roam freely. Evidently believing she had fulfilled her duty, she scurried back to the kitchen.

  They needed to travel only a few steps from the front hallway, but the wretched state of affairs became obvious before they even reached the drawing room door. Lizzy’s voice was quite loud. “…could tempt me to accept the man who had been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister? Can you deny that you have done it?”

  Oh no! This was even worse than she had imagined. Lizzy was using Jane’s “broken heart” as a reason to refuse the proposal.

  Mr. Darcy’s voice was a low rumble. “No, I do not. But if you have recently corresponded with your sister, then you must know that she and Bingley…” Jane could not discern his next words.

  She stood in the dimly lit corridor, unsure how to proceed. Bursting into such a private discussion was the height of impropriety, but Jane did not want to become the wedge that drove Lizzy and Mr. Darcy apart and robbed them of a chance for happiness.

  Both Aunt Gardiner and Charles regarded Jane with wide eyes, as if awaiting her signal about their next move. As the closest relation to one of the room’s occupants, apparently she commanded the greatest authority. How odd, Jane thought irrelevantly. People rarely consult me or seek my opinion. How did I find myself in such a position? Under other circumstances she might be flattered by their trust, but at the moment she would have gladly surrendered the authority to someone else.

  A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. Jane did not want this responsibility. She did not want to make decisions affecting her sister’s happiness.

  But they had no other options. They had not traveled all this distance to relinquish their responsibilities now. Boldness was called for, and Jane could manage to be bold—for Lizzy’s sake.

  Taking a deep breath, she reached out a shaking hand and turned the knob of the drawing room door. As it swung open, two pairs of shocked eyes greeted her sudden appearance. Mr. Darcy leaned against the mantelpiece, his face drawn and white, while Lizzy was seated by the window, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

  “Jane!” Lizzy jumped to her feet. “What brings you here?”

  Carefully worded statements flew out of the window; Jane said the first thing that came to mind. “You cannot use me as the reason you do not marry Mr. Darcy!”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lizzy stared at her sister wide-eyed.

  Charles spilled into the room behind Jane. “Bingley! What the devil are you doing here?” Mr. Darcy strode forward as if to shake his friend’s hand and then froze when Aunt Gardiner slipped in behind Charles. “How many people are out there?” He had turned quite red, no doubt wondering what they had heard through the door.

  Jane stifled an impulse to laugh. “That is all.”

  Lizzy’s eyes darted from one to another. “But you should be in London.”

  “Do not use me as a reason to re
fuse Mr. Darcy’s offer, Lizzy,” Jane urged. “Everything is well now. Charles and I are betrothed.” She could not help exchanging a little smile with Charles.

  “Er…congratulations, Bingley,” Mr. Darcy said.

  “Why, this is wonderful news!” Lizzy ran forward and gave her sister a hug but then peered curiously into her face. “Surely you did not travel all this way simply to relay news that could have been conveyed in a letter.”

  “I needed to assure you there is no reason to be angry with Mr. Darcy,” Jane explained.

  Mr. Darcy rubbed the back of his head, apparently as confused as Lizzy. “Still, would not a letter have sufficed?”

  “But that is not my only objection,” Lizzy said to Jane. “It is not merely this affair on which my dislike is founded.” She turned her glare on Mr. Darcy. “You also have reduced Mr. Wickham to his present state of poverty.”

  Mr. Darcy readied a sneer in response, but Jane interrupted. “No, Lizzy, Charles explained the story to me. Mr. Wickham has lied. He was compensated for the living and squandered all the money. Then he went on to cause…other difficulties for Mr. Darcy’s family.”

  The color drained from Lizzy’s face. “Is this true?” she demanded from Mr. Darcy.

  He blinked bemusedly. “As she has said.”

  Oh, this was uncomfortable! It was bad enough that Jane was compelled to share other people’s personal information, but it was the personal history of the (rather intimidating) master of Pemberley. She gestured self-consciously to Mr. Darcy. “It is your story to tell, sir. If you have anything to add—”

  A smile curved his lips. “You told the principal of the story admirably.”

  “Mr. Wickham lied?” Lizzy stumbled back to the chair by the window and sank into its soft embrace.

  “Such appears to be the case,” Jane replied.

  “You traveled the entire distance from London to inform Miss Elizabeth that Wickham had lied?” Mr. Darcy asked.

  Jane did not know how to explain their conduct; now that they were in Kent, their precipitous journey seemed excessive. Apparently Charles felt the same. When Mr. Darcy’s gaze fell upon him, the other man scuffed the toe of his boot uneasily against the carpet. “You had written to me that you would propose to Miss Elizabeth,” Charles told him. “Jane feared her sister had…a less than complete understanding of your character. We thought it best to intervene before Miss Elizabeth refused your suit for the wrong reasons.”