Elizabeth Bennet's Impertinent Letter

by J P Christy

  “Mayhap you’ve something to add to our supper,” the Irishman said.

  “Or you could provide comfort in other ways,” Scarface suggested.

  “Let them be,” said the man packing his rucksack. “Go on, ladies. Run along home.”

  “Ah, Mitch, we mean them no harm,” said the man with the cap. Nonetheless, like wolves surrounding their prey, the three men spaced themselves around the ladies, who were now trapped with the tall, thorn-filled berry bushes at their backs.

  “I want no part of this,” Mitch said. Slinging his rucksack over his shoulder, he slipped through a narrow opening in the bushes, crossed the stream, and disappeared into the woods.

  “That solves the problem of sharing,” said the man with the cap. “Three of you, three of us.”

  Mary managed to give two piercing whistles before the Irishman darted forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her finger and thumb out of her mouth and causing her sleeve to rip at the shoulder. Kitty snatched up a stout branch the men had collected for firewood and swung it hard at the Irishman’s legs. When her blow connected, he yelped and stumbled backward.

  Mary whistled again, three short bursts, while Kitty brandished her club. Inspired by the actions of her friends, Georgiana snatched up Ainsworth’s pocketknife from the basket and cut a length of blackberry vine. As the man with the cap charged the young ladies, she snapped the vine like a whip. Swearing, he retreated quickly when the thorns scratched his neck and face.

  In the distance, Ainsworth called, “Miss Mary! Mary! I’m coming!”

  At the unexpected resistance from the ladies and the threat of reinforcements, the men knew this was not a fight they wished to have. Grabbing what they could of their meager possessions, they escaped across the stream in the same direction as Mitch. When Ainsworth arrived moments later, he caught only a glimpse of the retreating men.

  Seeing that the ladies were unharmed, he gave a relieved sigh. “Well, now I know who can give such a fierce whistle,” he said to Mary, but upon noticing her torn sleeve, his demeanor turned serious. Hugging her to his chest, he asked, “Are you hurt, Mary? Who were those fellows?”

  “Vagrants, gypsies, or some such. We do not know,” Kitty said. Dropping the branch she had used as a weapon, she put an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders.

  “Thank you for rescuing us, Mr. Ainsworth,” Georgiana said.

  “You rescued yourselves. I merely watched the rascals flee.”

  Mary, who had closed her eyes and returned Ainsworth’s embrace, now stiffened with embarrassment. Slowly extricating herself from his arms, she moved to stand with Georgiana and Kitty. “Would you be so kind as to escort us back to Longbourn?”

  “Let us return to the Laidlaws. We can use their wagon to get you home faster,” Ainsworth said, offering Mary his arm.

  “Oh, take his arm, sister,” Kitty commanded. “I am walking with Georgiana.” Mary happily tucked her hand into the crook of Ainsworth’s elbow, and they led the way to the farm.

  “Are you all right, Georgiana?” Kitty asked.

  “Yes. That was quick thinking to use the branch on them.”

  “And you made a weapon of that vine! Well done!”

  Georgiana examined her palm. “I’ve got a scratch.”

  Kitty pressed her handkerchief into her friend’s hand. “Wounded in battle! We should be quite proud of ourselves.”

  ≈≈≈

  Darcy and Fitzwilliam were in the parlor when they heard the Laidlaw’s wagon stop in front of Purvis Lodge. Looking out the window, Fitzwilliam said, “Georgiana is with Ainsworth and Miss Elizabeth. Samson is tied to the back of the wagon.”

  Even before his cousin finished speaking, Darcy was rushing to meet them. As he lifted Georgiana down, he asked, “Are you injured?”

  “I am fine. I scratched my hand on a blackberry thorn.”

  “There’s a bit more to it than that, but all the ladies are well,” Ainsworth told Darcy and Fitzwilliam, who had joined his cousins. “There were some fellows—vagrants, not locals—who accosted the ladies near where we picked blackberries, but your sister and the Bennets routed them. On the way here, I stopped at Netherfield to collect Miss Elizabeth so she could keep Miss Darcy company, for I suggest we make certain the rascals are well and truly gone.”

  Seeing Darcy’s distracted expression, Fitzwilliam helped Elizabeth down from the wagon. “Agreed, sir. Georgiana, would you lend Ainsworth your horse?”

  “Certainly.”

  “I will come with you,” Darcy said.

  “Darcy, stay with your sister,” Fitzwilliam said.

  “Miss Elizabeth will take care of her,” Darcy said.

  “Of course, but I cannot provide the comfort of a loving brother,” Elizabeth said.

  “See to Georgiana, Darcy,” Fitzwilliam insisted. “Thorpe is a fine butler, but he does not have your youth or strength. If there is more to this matter than meets the eye, you should be here. Ainsworth and I will search for the fellows.”

  Seeing Georgiana’s tense expression, Darcy said, “I will stay.”

  ≈≈≈

  As Darcy and Georgiana sat in strained silence in the drawing room, Elizabeth watched out a window; thus, she was the first to see Fitzwilliam and Ainsworth when they returned late in the afternoon. At her announcement of the men’s arrival, Darcy jumped to his feet. “Wait here, please.”

  After he exited, Elizabeth sat by Georgiana. “Are you afraid, dear friend?”

  “I was when those men surrounded us. But when Mary signaled for help and Kitty struck the fellow with the branch, I knew I could fight, too. When Mr. Ainsworth arrived, he said we had rescued ourselves, and I felt quite able. We joked about ‘our adventure,’ and I didn’t feel frightened then. But upon seeing the fear Brother had for me, my own fear came creeping back.”

  “I heartily urge you send it creeping away again! You and my sisters are well, thanks to your own good efforts.”

  Wearing a reassuring expression, Fitzwilliam entered the drawing room. “How are you, Georgiana? You seem none the worse for wear.” Darcy, however, who was a step behind, wore a stern look.

  Georgiana glanced at Elizabeth and smiled. “I am very well. I only wish you and Brother could have seen how Kitty and Mary and I dealt with those rogues.”

  “It appears the men had camped there last night. Ainsworth and I followed where they crossed the stream, but we did not find them in the woods.”

  “I should not be surprised if they are halfway to the next county. Such confrontations are rare, and I have never heard of anyone being seriously harmed,” Elizabeth said.

  Georgiana rose. “Now that you are back, I will tell Cook we are ready to be served.”

  “Yes, certainly. We will join you in a moment,” Darcy said.

  “Elizabeth, will you dine with us?” Georgiana asked.

  “I had thought to ask Mr. Ainsworth to take me to Netherfield, but as he is gone, I am happy to stay.”

  “I hoped you would!” Georgiana said and exited with a smile.

  Fitzwilliam looked embarrassed. “My apologies, Miss Bennet. I did not consider that.”

  “After dinner, I will take you to Netherfield,” Darcy said. Addressing Fitzwilliam, he added, “As for Georgiana, I want to send her to your parents in town tomorrow.”

  “To London? She won’t want to leave here,” Fitzwilliam said.

  “Why would you send Georgiana away?” Elizabeth asked.

  Darcy addressed his cousin first. “What she wants is of no consequence when her safety is at risk.” To Elizabeth, he said, “Clearly, Hertfordshire is more dangerous than I realized.”

  “Sir, consider the situation. My sisters and yours encountered some vagrants. They defended themselves as any sensible female would—and quite effectively, according to Mr. Ainsworth—who responded quickly when the ladies summoned him. Georgiana returned here with only a scratch from a blackberry thorn.”

  “I should think you would have more concern for your own si
sters, given how the situation might have turned out.”

  “Might have, Mr. Darcy, but didn’t. Sending Georgiana away is out of proportion to the event.”

  “I agree with Elizabeth,” Fitzwilliam said. “Georgiana has blossomed here. She is happy; she has a purpose.”

  “Bingley no longer needs her to be his hostess.”

  “But you need her to be your hostess,” Fitzwilliam said.

  “She not only has a purpose, she has friends,” Elizabeth said.

  “They do not—they cannot—care for her as much as I do!”

  “Mr. Darcy, Georgiana confided in me that your fears for her make her fearful.”

  “Georgiana should be fearful. It is a dangerous world. You do not understand, Elizabeth. Had I taken better care of her, Wickham would not have … he—”

  Elizabeth touched his arm reassuringly. “She has told me about Ramsgate.”

  “Wickham should never have been so close,” Darcy said fiercely.

  In calmer tones, Fitzwilliam said, “You must let Georgiana attend the ball at Netherfield, else you risk damaging the closeness you have achieved with her over these past few months.”

  “Please, let her stay for the ball at least,” Elizabeth begged. “She has worked so hard in helping Jane to prepare. It would be cruel to send her away before the party.”

  “Cruel? You are willfully misunderstanding my intentions.”

  Thorpe appeared in the doorway. “Miss Darcy wishes for you to come to dinner.”

  “Will you escort me in, Colonel?” Elizabeth asked, glaring at Darcy

  “My pleasure.” He led her away while Darcy fumed.

  ≈≈≈

  During dinner, Georgiana strove to keep the conversation light, and Fitzwilliam shared in the effort; still, Elizabeth and Darcy were clearly at odds. Immediately following the meal, though it was scarcely twilight, Elizabeth insisted on returning to Netherfield. In a dispassionate tone, Darcy said, “It is such a mild evening; allow me to take you home in the curricle.”

  In short order, the curricle was brought out. Darcy helped Elizabeth into the seat and expertly guided the small carriage to the road. A strained silence marked the first few minutes of their drive. Finally, Darcy said, “If I send Georgiana away before the ball, I fear it will not only create a rift between her and me but a rift between us, Elizabeth.”

  “I truly do understand your wish to protect your sister, Will. Yet, I am reminded of Lady Catherine’s control over her daughter. I vividly recall how constrained Anne felt.” As was their habit when they were alone, they used each other’s Christian names, happily flouting the proscription against such familiarity.

  “Surely you do not compare my actions to those of my aunt?”

  “While I do not doubt your wish for Georgiana to be happy, your actions are more similar to Lady Catherine’s than you realize.”

  After a pause, Darcy said, “I have sometimes thought your independent nature puts both your person and your reputation at unnecessary risk.”

  “I grant you that as a country miss in a neighborhood where I am well known, I have freedoms I could not have in, say, London.”

  “Will you resent the loss of those freedoms when we wed?”

  “I can easily adapt my behavior to my circumstances, and I will certainly curtail my rambles when we are in town, but are there other freedoms I will lose when we marry?” she asked in surprise. “Is Pemberley such a dangerous place to walk or ride?”

  “You are missing the point! As your husband, I will be responsible for you, just as you will bear the responsibility of being a model of propriety for my sister. Thus, it is important that we are of one mind regarding the matters of personal safety and reputation.”

  “And I suppose this ‘one mind’ is yours, with no discussion between us!” For an unpleasant moment, she recalled a similar statement from Collins regarding Charlotte.

  “Well, ultimately I … Elizabeth, I am a man of the world.”

  “Apparently, you wish to shelter me to such a degree that I do not become worldly wise.”

  “I do not understand you! What do you fear you will lose once you are my wife? With my resources, I can show you places you’ve only dreamed of.”

  “Carefully selected so that I follow the conventions you value!”

  “Do we not value the same conventions?”

  “Oh, Will, my fear is that you will see me as a possession to protect rather than as your helpmate. I do not wish to be sheltered from the difficulties of your life, of our life together.”

  “Do you want me to burden you with the concerns of running a vast estate? To bore you with the political issues affecting landholders such as myself?”

  “Of course! If Pemberley is to be my home, I want to know its tenants and its neighbors and all the things that challenge it.”

  “If Pemberley is to be your home? Is there some doubt?”

  “Based on this conversation, sir, I wonder whether you will require me to be less capable than I am while you strive to keep my person and my reputation under your careful control.”

  “I do not wish to argue with you Elizabeth,” he said stiffly.

  “Nor I with you. Look, there is the turnoff to Netherfield.”

  They drove in silence for remaining distance. As Darcy helped her out of the curricle, he said, “I only want what is best for you.”

  “I heard Lady Catherine say the same thing to Anne,” she said in a sharper tone than she had intended. Embarrassed and angry, she strode into the house.

  35

  “I fear she will be censured for her independence.”

  When Elizabeth entered the foyer of Netherfield, Norris informed her Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were in the dining room. Forgetting for the moment her disagreement with Darcy, she hurried to her sister and brother-in-law. “Please tell me you did not hold dinner for me!” Bingley stood when Elizabeth entered, and she waved him back into his seat.

  Jane assured her, “Calm yourself, Lizzy. We were certain you would dine at Purvis Lodge.” She and her husband sat side by side at the table, on which were several sheets of paper and two half-filled wine glasses. Within Jane’s reach was a wine bottle from which she poured a glass for her sister. “Come sit with us.”

  “Is all well?” Bingley asked. “When I returned from speaking with my steward, Jane said you had left because there had been an incident with vagrants. I considered going to Purvis Lodge, but decided that if there were trouble in the neighborhood, my place was with my darling wife.”

  Feeling tired from the drama of the day, Elizabeth sat across from Jane, happy to accept the glass she offered. Oh, dear sister, I need your calm counsel! Aloud, she said, “All is well, Charles. Mr. Darcy stayed with Georgiana and me while Mr. Ainsworth and the colonel visited the place where the fellows were encountered, but by then the men had fled. It seems they were the opportunistic sort rather than scheming criminals.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Bingley said.

  Gesturing at the papers, Elizabeth asked, “What is this?”

  “We are making lists,” Jane said.

  “And sketches,” Bingley added.

  “As to our preferences,” Jane clarified, smiling contentedly at her husband.

  He returned her smile. “And dislikes regarding the ideal estate for the Bingley dynasty.”

  “Kindly do not tell Mama that we are looking beyond Netherfield,” Jane said.

  “I won’t,” Elizabeth said, wondering if Jane was increasing.

  “Darcy must have been mad with fear upon hearing Miss Darcy was accosted,” Bingley said.

  “I was told the ladies defended themselves handily, and when Mary whistled for help, Mr. Ainsworth came running.”

  Jane told her husband, “We joke that Mary’s whistle can be heard in the next county.”

  “I’ll warrant Darcy will have a footman accompany his sister from this day forward. She means the world to him—as do you, Miss Elizabeth.” Turning to his wife, Bingley s
aid, “I shall speak to Heath about escorting you ….” He trailed off when he noticed Jane staring at her sister. At a glance, he saw Elizabeth’s pained expression and realized she was desperate for a private conversation. “Well, no time like the present,” he said. “Please excuse me.”

  A moment later, the sisters were alone. “What is it, Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth took a deep drink of wine and then asked, “Do you think Mr. Darcy will be happy if he marries me?”

  Jane’s look was full of sympathy. After a brief pause, she replied, “Perhaps not, dearest.” Elizabeth gasped, and tears slid down her cheeks. “Nor am I certain you will be happy with him. At least not until … oh, how do I tell you this?”

  “Oh, Jane, just say what you think!”

  “Until Mr. Darcy is more forthcoming about his feelings, you will continue to guess about his opinions and behaviors, and you will not always guess correctly. As you know, he is not accustomed to explaining himself, while you—and this is my observation, not a criticism.” At Elizabeth’s surprised look, she added in a teasing tone, “Do you remember saying that to me at the Gardiners’ home … goodness, it was scarcely three months ago.”

  Wiping her cheeks with her hands, Elizabeth gave a weak smile. “So much has happened in such a short time!”

  “In some ways, you and Mr. Darcy are alike; you are both protective of those whom you love. But while you show your emotions openly, he conceals his behind a stern mask. Perhaps what I need to say is a question rather than an observation: Do you show Mr. Darcy the same patience you show me when I am working my way toward a decision? In fairness, you must admit that until you truly understand his concerns, it is precipitous to judge his words and actions.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “It is true. I am not merely impertinent; I am impetuous. Oh, Jane, there are moments when I fear that the arrogant, humorless Mr. Darcy we met last autumn is the man I will wake to after our wedding. And he seems to believe that whatever adjustments are required for an amicable marriage are mine alone to make.”

  “If this is so, would you be happy as his wife?”

  “I do not believe I would.” Elizabeth closed her eyes; after a long silence, she said, “Still, I must concentrate on what I know to be true. Mr. Darcy is capable of change when he chooses. He is a different man from the one we knew last year, different even from the man I met at Rosings in April. He loves me. And I … I love him.” When she opened her eyes, Jane saw more tears.