To Love Mr Darcy

by Martine Jane Roberts

  “Do you want me to attend, Charles?”

  “No, I think not, Darcy. Against you, poor Henry Standing will pale into insignificance. Caroline wouldn’t give him a second glance.”

  Charles gave a heartfelt sigh, and then thanked Darcy for giving him the opportunity to deal with Caroline, rather than turning her over to the magistrate.

  Later that day, Darcy received a note.

  Darcy,

  I have arranged the card party for tomorrow evening.

  At first, Caroline denied all knowledge of an association

  with Wickham, but when pressed, she confessed all.

  It is many years since I saw my sister cry.

  I think she is truly sorry, Darcy.

  When presented with the choice of either a magistrate,

  a convent, or marriage, naturally she chose the latter.

  I have instructed her to sever all connection with Wickham

  instantly, citing that Henry would not tolerate a woman

  whose character bore a blemish. I also threatened to cut

  her off financially. In that, I reminded her that only, marriage

  would release her twenty-thousand- pound dowry,

  I believe she seemed genuinely interested in meeting

  young Standing.

  I hope, no, I pray, the outcome will be favourable.

  Your friend

  Charles Bingley

  Two days later, it was a shock to both Elizabeth and Darcy, when Charles came to call with his sister Caroline in tow. She walked meekly behind him, and her gaze was downcast. Elizabeth couldn’t help but notice that she had on a pretty floral dress, and her hair was dressed in a softer style, with small ringlets dancing at the nape of her neck and tiny curls clinging to her temples.

  “Darcy, Miss Elizabeth, how good it is to see you both. It is a fine day for visiting one’s friends, is it not, Caroline?” Mr Bingley asked confidently.

  “Indeed, it is, Charles, a very fine day,” Caroline replied in a subdued voice.

  Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a quizzical look. The transformation of Miss Bingley seemed to be of the acutest kind.

  What had brought about this dramatic change in her?

  Charles looked down at his sister, but she would not meet his eye. Finally, with a hint of exasperation in his voice, he said,

  “I think Caroline has something to say to you both, isn’t that so, Caroline?”

  After a false start, Miss Bingley quietly began to speak.

  “I have come to offer you both my most sincere apologies. Mr Darcy, I cannot deny that in the past, I did harbour feelings for you, but now I understand that they were entirely unrequited. Upon your betrothal to Miss Eliza, those feeling turned to resentment, and I sought to hurt you both. Foolishly, I shared my ire with George Wickham, who then convinced me the only solution was to abduct you, Miss Eliza. I was mad with jealousy and thought with you out of the way, Mr Darcy would turn to me. He was wrong, I was wrong. I’ve been so stupid and hateful, but I have seen the error of my ways, and I am determined to become a new, and better person. I am deeply ashamed of my actions and can only beg your forgiveness.”

  There was a stunned silence in the morning room at Airwhile House.

  In all the time Darcy had been acquainted with the Bingleys, he had never once witnessed Caroline Bingley make an apology or act with such contrition. He was, for once, speechless.

  Elizabeth, on the other hand, who was no stranger to squabbling females, understood perfectly. Caroline had found a new direction for her feelings.

  “Miss Bingley, it was brave of you to come and deliver such a sincere apology in person, and as I think you truly mean it, I am happy to accept it and offer you my hand in friendship.” Elizabeth stood up and held out her hand to Caroline.

  Caroline Bingley was amazed that Elizabeth would be so generous after all that had transpired between them. Charles has insisted that it would be so, but foolishly she had judged Elizabeth by her own standards.

  Nervously, Caroline stretched out her arm and accepted Elizabeth’s hand. Charles had been right about everything. Elizabeth’s forgiveness was charity itself, and Caroline felt the unfamiliar sting of tears as her eyes welled up for the second time in a week.

  Darcy, who had watched with incredulity, eventually came to his senses.

  “If indeed you are as sincere as your words sound, then your transgressions can be assigned to the past. Unfortunately, it is not in our human nature to forget such things, but as Elizabeth has so eloquently put it, it is in our power to forgive.” Darcy saw a glistening tear escape from the corner of her eye as her lower lip began to tremble.

  “Do you intend to offer Georgiana the same courtesy?” he asked.

  Caroline retrieved a handkerchief from her reticule and dashed away the solitary tear before nodding in the affirmative.

  “Elizabeth, would you mind taking Miss Bingley to see Georgiana? I wish to speak to Charles on another matter,” Darcy instructed.

  Elizabeth led Caroline upstairs to where Miss Darcy was practising on the pianoforte, and then discreetly slipped out and went to her own room. It pleased her to know that such an unsavoury business had been righted before she returned home. Elizabeth couldn’t believe she had only two days left before she must return to Longbourn. But she would not be sad, for there was so much she had to tell her dear sisters.

  As soon as the door had closed behind the ladies, Darcy blurted out,

  “I am all astonishment at the transformation of your sister, Charles. What the devil happened last evening?”

  Bingley smiled and tapped the side of his nose, indicating it was in confidence.

  “Of course, man, now don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “It was the damnedest thing I have ever witnessed, Darcy. Caroline was standing by the fireplace, waiting to greet our guests. Young Henry Standing was the first to arrive. As he received Caroline’s hand and bowed over it, her knees almost gave way under her. Henry put his arm around her waist, to steady her, and Caroline almost swooned away, right in front of him. Well, I rushed forward to offer my assistance, but Henry brushed me away, saying he would take care of Miss Bingley. I’ve never seen anything like it!” Charles exclaimed as he acted out each scene.

  “Like what?” Darcy asked, confused by the toing and froing of Charles’s delivery.

  “Why, love at first sight of course,” Bingley replied.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Help me, please help me!”

  Elizabeth flayed her head from side to side, as she dreamt of George Wickham and Caroline Bingley. She screamed for help, but no-one heard her. As she increased her efforts to break free from their clutches, she writhed beneath her covers, all the while calling for help.

  Finally, as a scream that was not her own pierced her into consciousness, and Elizabeth instantly realised it was not a dream.

  Clad only in her nightgown, she rushed out of her room at Airwhile House and into the hallway. As she padded towards Georgiana’s room, the call for help grew louder.

  Elizabeth rushed to the door and tapped on it several times.

  “Georgiana, wake up,” Elizabeth said, thinking her friend was having a nightmare.

  “Help me, Elizabeth, please help….”

  Elizabeth’s concern was at a premium now, as Georgiana’s broken sobbed became muffled. Something was wrong.

  Rushing into the room, Elizabeth expected to see Georgiana in her bed, but it was empty, and the covers were scattered on the floor.

  Then a movement by the window caught her eye, and a chill went down her spine. The curtains were billowing out as the cold night air rushed in and standing before it was two people. Georgiana, and an unshaved man in dirty clothes who had his hand firmly clamped over Georgiana’s mouth. Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed into his hand, and her eyes were wide with fear. Elizabeth felt there was something familiar about the man, and she peered harder at his features. As the realisation hit her,
Elizabeth gasped out in horror when she finally recognised who it was.

  George Wickham!

  “Step back Miss Bennet. No-one will be harmed if you do as I say. Miss Darcy is coming with me. We are to be married, don’t you know. Is that not so, my love?” he said half in triumph and half in threat.

  Georgiana pleaded with her eyes for Elizabeth’s help.

  Elizabeth, scared for their safety, did as he ordered and took a step back.

  Feeling bolder, Wickham shoved his captive in the back, and they both stumbled forward a few steps.

  Instinctively, Elizabeth knew he was heading for the door. Somehow, she must block their exit, or at the very least, stall them until help could arrive. Her mind raced as she tried to conjure up a reason to delay them.

  Then Wickham said,

  “Step aside, Miss Bennet. It’s Georgiana I want.”

  Frantically, Elizabeth said the only thing she thought plausible.

  “Mr Wickham, you cannot take Miss Darcy into the street in her night clothes, she must get dressed. Let me help her, it will take but a moment.”

  Wickham seemed unconvinced and pushed forward another step.

  “You will only succeed in drawing attention to yourselves if she goes out on the street looking like this,” Elizabeth pleaded.

  At first, Wickham eyed her with suspicion but must then have seen the logic behind her words.

  “Do as she say, my love. Get dressed, but hurry,” he barked at them.

  Wickham shoved Georgiana forward, and she fell into Elizabeth's outstretched arms, sobbing even louder.

  Elizabeth wrapped a protective arm around her friend shoulder and tried to comfort her.

  “Shh, come now, Miss Darcy, we must hurry and get you dressed,” she said aloud, then whispered in Georgiana’s ear,

  “If there is a lock on your dressing room door, just nod.”

  Georgiana nodded.

  “Be ready to follow me,” Elizabeth added.

  “Stop whispering, just get on with it before I change my mind!” Wickham barked.

  Elizabeth gave a nervous smile,

  “May I dress Miss Darcy in private?”

  Wickham hesitated, so to add weight to her request, Elizabeth said,

  “Miss Darcy is a maiden, sir, and you are still a gentleman, are you not?”

  Elizabeth’s ruse to pander to Wickham’s ego had worked.

  With a flick of his head, Wickham indicated for them to go into the dressing room.

  It seemed to take them forever to cover the few steps to reach the adjoining chamber, but finally, they closed the door behind them. Elizabeth quickly turned the key in the lock and then pulled Georgiana away from the door. She expected Wickham would try to force it open, and she was unsure of the mechanisms strength and whether it would survive the onslaught.

  Only when he heard the key being turned in the lock did Wickham realised he’d been duped. Well, that was the last mistake he would make.

  “Open this door, NOW!” he shouted as he banged his fists on the heavy wooden door. He tried to force it by hurling his body against it, but it was of solid construction and did not give way.

  After several minutes of cursing and demanding they come out, it went quiet.

  Elizabeth and Georgiana sat huddled in the corner next to a large, heavy wardrobe, their arms wrapped around each other. In one hand, Elizabeth held a dainty pair of scissors she had snatched off the dresser. Their baited breath came in shallow bursts as they strained to hear what Wickham was doing.

  Suddenly from the other side of the door, they heard raised voices.

  “So, Wickham, you finally show your true colours. I knew that one day you would drop the façade and reveal the true you. A degenerate of the worse kind, one who preys on defenceless women.”

  Elizabeth and Georgiana looked at each other in disbelief as they recognised the voice from the other side of the door.

  It was Darcy.

  Together, they cautiously crept towards the locked door and listened.

  “There is no escape for you, Wickham. Give yourself up peacefully, and I will ask the magistrate to be lenient with you,” Darcy said as he inched closer to the dressing room door.

  “I could have made something of my life, if only you had not been so tight-fisted with your money. It’s not as if you don’t have enough. You could have given me a few hundred pounds a year, and not even missed it,” Wickham retorted with venom.

  A few steps more and Darcy had put his body between Wickham and the door concealing Elizabeth and Georgiana.

  “Enough now, Wickham,” Darcy said in a masterful tone. “I am bringing the women out. Your argument is with me, not them. We can settle this man to man.”

  On hearing no reply from Mr Wickham, Elizabeth cautiously unlocked the door and peered out. Darcy was using his body as a shield between them and Mr Wickham.

  Tentative, Elizabeth and Georgiana took a few steps towards the door, only for George Wickham to also advance on Darcy by two steps.

  Instantly, Darcy stretched out his arms and pushed the women behind his back.

  “Don’t do anything rash, Wickham. There is no reason for anyone to get hurt.”

  Wickham looked defeated, and Darcy thought him ready to surrender.

  Suddenly, something behind Darcy caused Wickham to rally.

  In the dressing table mirror, Darcy could see what had agitated him. Colonel Fitzwilliam had arrived and was blocking the bedroom door, and his sword was drawn; Wickham’s only means of escape had been cut off.

  Agitated and scared, Wickham backed up until he felt the edge of the window sill press into his spine. Scouring his vicinity for a weapon, his eyes stopped on the lamp he had used to find his way to Georgiana’s room. Snatching it up, Wickham thrust it forward in a threatening manner. The bright light only accentuated his dishevelled appearance and the wild look in his eyes. He glared at them all.

  Turning to Georgiana, he spat,

  “You bitch; you should have married me last year. You would have been rid of me once I had your money. Now, no-one will have you.”

  Wickham lifted his arm, took a step forward, and threw the lamp at the foot of the bed. As the glass shattered on the wooden bedstead, the oil splattered over the carpet and bed covers. Instantly, the doused blankets caught fire, and as the flames grew, they leapt up the curtains and onto the canopy. Swirls of thick black smoke rose to the ceiling and began to form a cloudlike covering. As Darcy thrust the women in the direction of the open door, Colonel Fitzwilliam pushed past him in an attempt to apprehend Wickham.

  Wickham began to laugh hysterically as his eyes darted wildly around the room looking for a means of escape, but there was none. He had trapped himself and only now realised his error.

  Then the unthinkable happened. Wickham’s foot caught on the discarded blanket Georgiana had used to cover herself. In a split second, the flames had transferred from the covering and onto his trousers. It quickly burnt through the material and began to eat away at his flesh. He stumbled backwards, screaming in agony as he slapped at his legs with his bare hands in a frantic bid to extinguish the flames, but it was no use. The layers of alcohol-stained cloth that were his shirt and jacket also ignited, and he became engulfed in a ball of fire.

  They all watched in horror as he gave one final scream and fell backwards through the open window.

  Georgiana, who had been paralysed with fear, began to scream.

  Richard dashed forward in a vain effort to grab the falling man, but Darcy pulled him back.

  “You are too late, Richard, he has gone. We have to get the women out of here now before the whole house goes up!”

  Georgiana was rooted to the spot, and try as she might, Elizabeth could not move her.

  Elizabeth began to cough as the smoke descended lower and lower.

  Realising there was little time to be wasted if they were to get out alive, Elizabeth did the one thing the men were afraid to do. She slapped Georgiana’s face.
r />   “Forgive me, Miss Darcy, but there is no time to lose.”

  Elizabeth took a firm hold of her friend’s hand and pulled her through the door and down the stairs. The housekeeper advanced on them and ushered them through the scurrying servants and out the front door.

  An invisible pair of hands placed a blanket around their shoulders, and as the clean cold air invaded their lungs, they both began to cough again.

  Elizabeth wrapped Georgiana in a comforting embrace and held her until her cries had turned to dry sobs.

  Then Georgiana lifted her head and said,

  “Wickham, I…, I never… would … marry…. him,” she managed to say.

  “Shh, I know. It’s all over now,” Elizabeth reassured her.

  The unmistakable Darcy crest shone brightly on the carriage door that was standing outside Airwhile House. Darcy must have arrived home just as Elizabeth had first heard Georgiana’s cries.

  “Georgie, Georgie,” called a panicked man’s voice.

  “Oh, Richard, it was awful,” Georgiana cried as she ran into his outstretched arms.

  The colonel pulled her to his chest and held her tight. She was safe.

  Darcy finally emerged through the front door and scanned the throng of servants and neighbours for Elizabeth.

  “Elizabeth,” he called, trying to suppress the feeling of panic that was rising in his breast.

  Miller stepped forward and pointed to a figure a dozen yards along the street. Following his direction, Darcy felt a way of relief wash over him.

  Standing away from the chaos, with her back to the throng of people, stood Elizabeth.

  He hurried to her side and then stood in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders, scanning her any for signs of injury.

  Her silence and trancelike stare, caused him to ask,

  “Elizabeth are you hurt?”

  But Elizabeth seemed to be looking past him.

  Then, very quietly, she said,

  “You might ask someone to bring a blanket to cover him. Mr Wickham no longer has any concerns, but Georgiana has been through enough for one night.”