by Robin Helm
It might be interesting to hear what excuses he would invent. “If I agree to listen to what you have to say, I should not accept your letter.”
He shook his head. “I am afraid this subject is so painful for me, I might forget to tell you something that is written here.” He held it a little higher. “I truly wish for you to understand.”
She took a deep breath.
“Please, Miss Elizabeth.”
She took the letter and shoved it into her pocket that already held the list of his transgressions. She began walking again immediately.
Her tone was more severe than she meant it to be when she said, “I am aware that Lieutenant Wickham was the son of your father’s steward. Miss Bingley, at some point, charged Mr. Wickham with being born into a family that was not of the gentry, as if that explained why you would treat him so appallingly. Is there more?”
“I had no idea Miss Bingley had spoken to you about such a thing.” Mr. Darcy’s expression hardened. “I am unaware of what falsehoods Wickham has offered which misled you, but his lineage has nothing to do with my reasons for warning you against him in Hertfordshire. In fact, Wickham and I played together as children. We were almost like brothers. His father was one of the best men I have ever known; our fathers were good friends. As a favour to the senior Mr. Wickham, my father paid his son’s way through school and hoped his godson would make the church his profession.”
So far, his story was similar to Lieutenant Wickham’s.
“When we shared lodgings at school, I learned much more about Wickham’s character. I will not go into details, but suffice it to say that once he was away from the influence of our fathers, instead of applying himself to his studies, he chose a life of debauchery. I came to his aid more times than I care to remember, and I attempted to help him regain his lost sense of morality, but he refused to modify his conduct. Instead, he tried to convince me to follow his example.”
A shudder passed up Elizabeth’s spine. Could this be true?
“Soon after my father died, as the executor of his will, I again expressed my hope to Wickham that he would mend his ways. I offered to pay his expenses if he returned to school and took orders, noting that if he did so, the living my father had set aside for him would be his when it fell vacant.” He shook his head. “Wickham asked for a sum of money in place of the living. Since, in my heart, I did not believe he should be a clergyman unless he recognized and truly regretted the choices he had made in the past, I wrote the cheque.
“However, six months later, he came to me again. In that short amount of time, he had gone through the three thousand pounds I had given him. He wished to return to school and take orders. I did not believe his sudden change of heart, therefore I refused his request and sent him away. It seemed all our business was at an end.”
Mr. Darcy stopped walking for a moment. Elizabeth felt he was trying to decide whether to proceed with his tale. Or was he trying to mislead her by making up this story as he went along?
She had already refused him; what purpose could he have for lying to her now?
He glanced over at her. The wrinkles in his brow smoothed, and he began to speak once more.
“Miss Elizabeth, I feel I must tell you everything in order to clear up the misunderstandings you are under. But this is very difficult for me. I must ask for your discretion.”
A feeling of dread balled up in her stomach. She did not really want to know the rest, but his expression was one of such pleading, she had to hear him out. She nodded her agreement.
“Last summer, my sister and her companion, Mrs. Younge, travelled to Ramsgate. Unbeknownst to me, Mrs. Younge was previously acquainted with Wickham and had arranged for him to meet them there.”
He paused as pain infused his voice, his very being. Every muscle seemed to tense. “Georgiana was fifteen years old when Wickham convinced her that she was in love with him. In truth, his aim was her dowry of thirty thousand pounds.”
Elizabeth gasped, her hand covering her mouth.
He spoke quickly now, as if he had to expel it at once or be unable to get through it. “With Mrs. Younge’s encouragement, my sister agreed to elope to Gretna Green. The day before they were to leave, I surprised my sister with a visit. Georgiana was so excited about her plans that the truth burst from her lips the moment she saw me.”
He cleared his throat, but it did not purge the emotion from his voice. “You can imagine how I felt, how I acted. Wickham broke Georgiana’s heart. She was in a very bad way for quite a while.”
As he took a few moments to recover, Elizabeth’s mind whirled.
Mr. Darcy would not have created such a story about his own sister. He had to be telling the truth.
How could she have been so wrong about Mr. Wickham?
She had always thought herself able to sketch people’s characters correctly, that she could easily detect deceit and malice. But when she had been in conversation with Mr. Wickham, his every look had spoken of integrity and honour.
How could she have missed such a deep-seated evil in the man?
Mr. Darcy’s voice was stronger when he began again. “I dismissed Mrs. Younge and removed my sister to London at once. A few weeks later, my aunt and uncle, Richard’s parents, returned to London from the country. Almost immediately, my aunt told me that I was pampering her too much; hovering she called it.
“When Bingley asked for my help in learning how to manage an estate, my aunt and uncle urged me to go. They felt it would be good for my sister and me to spend some time apart.
“Although my aunt had found another companion for Georgiana — and I had reviewed her history with a vigour beyond normal after what had happened with Mrs. Younge — I still could not trust her completely. I would not leave unless Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley stayed with my aunt and uncle.
“When I returned to London after Bingley’s ball, Georgiana came home, and my aunt and uncle went on holiday before the Parliament sessions began.
“Only two days later, Bingley announced his marriage and asked me to be his best man.
“Miss Elizabeth, I must admit that I did advise Bingley as to what I thought I saw — that your sister’s heart did not seem easily touched — and therefore, my mind did leap to conclusions about her motivation for marrying him, but Bingley’s choice of brides was entirely his to make. I am happy to hear you say your sister does care for Bingley. That is enough for me. But you must understand, even if I had absolute proof that she had not liked him, I would have attended their wedding if I could have.”
He stopped walking and turned to her. “Whether you agree with my unwillingness to leave my sister alone in London with a new companion, can you not understand? With Wickham in the neighbourhood, I could not bring Georgiana to Hertfordshire.”
“Oh, yes. I do understand.” Elizabeth whispered. She turned and walked on so that he would not see the tears she felt pricking at her eyes.
He walked alongside her in silence for several minutes while she tried to calm herself. It would not do to become hysterical in front of Mr. Darcy.
Poor Miss Darcy.
Poor Mr. Darcy. After all he had been through, she had refused him in almost the same breath as championing a man as vile as Mr. Wickham!
It occurred to her that it was possible when she overheard Mr. Darcy’s comment about her before they had met, her mortification blinded her to his true character. When Wickham had spoken badly of the man in so charming a way, she had jumped at the chance to think even more meanly of him.
And that comment she had heard, had it not been proven wrong? If he did not think her handsome, why would he ask her to marry him?
She thought of the mood he must have been in at the time he formed those words at the assembly ball — all that had happened in Ramsgate, the guilt he must have felt when his relations criticized the way he was handling the situation, his leaving her in London with relatives and a companion he was afraid to trust, and then, the first day he came to a new neighborhood, h
is friend had made plans to attend a ball.
Would she have been in better humour in his place? If the circumstances had happened in her life instead of his, if Charlotte had urged her to dance, would she not have been ill-tempered? It was likely she would not have insulted the man within his hearing, but Mr. Darcy could have easily been so distracted that he did not realize she was near.
And had she not softened towards him of late? Was that the real Mr. Darcy? The man she had come to know while walking the paths of Rosings Park? But then, without reason, she had reversed herself and discarded everything she had learned.
She needed to think all this over. But she also needed to say something now. What to say?
“I am sorry I misjudged your motives, Mr. Darcy. You may rely on my secrecy.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his shoulders relax.
“Miss Elizabeth, my good friend is married to your sister.” He stopped.
She replied, “As I am aware, sir.”
“We will see each other on occasion in Town.”
She nodded.
“I would very much like it if we could head off any awkwardness between us. Could we… do you think perhaps we can… forget the events of last evening ever happened?”
She raised her eyebrows. His expression was again pleading.
Yes, it would be easier on both of them if they did so.
She stopped and held out a hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Darcy.”
He stood there staring at her hand for a moment, then seemed to catch on. They would start again.
He took her hand and bowed over it. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Bennet.”
They walked on in a comfortable silence not unlike they had enjoyed the last few days. Eventually, they came to the gate that led down the short path to Hunsford cottage.
He moved to open it, then stopped. “I will be leaving for London this afternoon.”
She nodded. “Jane and Charles will send their carriage for me the first week of February.”
He opened the gate and stepped through it to hold it for her. “Thank you for your forbearance and understanding, Miss Bennet.”
“I can say the same, sir.” For some reason, she did not want to leave him. “Have a pleasant journey.”
“Thank you, as well,” he said.
Since she could not think of anything else to say, she walked away from the man she had misjudged, and refused, so harshly. The urge to turn and wave was almost overwhelming, but she restrained herself from doing so.
As she pushed the latch to let herself into the house, she hesitated, comprehending that she was a different person now than the lady who had stepped through this door earlier this morning.
Chapter Seven
~January 27, 1812 – Darcy House, London
Darcy stared out the frosted window, trying to concentrate on the patterns formed by the falling snowflakes.
Anything to keep from thinking!
He usually enjoyed snow, but today, the gray sky was nothing but gloomy, and the slippery streets meant he was trapped at home. He had spent the day in his study, intent on completing his correspondence. Instead, his mind transported him to a parlour in Kent, re-playing the same soul-piercing conversation again and again. It was exhausting.
He forced his thoughts away from Elizabeth’s refusal and onto the person who encompassed the brightest portion of his life — Georgiana, who had returned from his aunt and uncle’s home a week ago when Darcy had arrived in London. She seemed much improved.
His aunt had given a glowing account of his sister’s new companion during his absence.
In addition, Mrs. Mead, his London housekeeper, had reconnected with an old friend who worked in the household where Mrs. Annesley had been previously employed. Having made inquiries about Mrs. Annesley, she happily confirmed her to be as trustworthy as had been described by her references.
That being the case, in order to avoid hovering over Georgiana’s every move once again, Darcy had attempted to remain occupied.
Eschewing the ladies of the ton, he declined all invitations and kept himself primarily engaged with the manly pursuits of boxing and fencing. Once, he had even taken his sister and her companion shopping. Heaven help him.
It occurred to him that he might actually have enjoyed the same activity had he been with Georgiana and Elizabeth. He sighed.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Yes?”
Georgiana peeked her head around the door. “May Richard and I come in?”
Please, come in and distract me from this insanity! “By all means, Dove.”
She smiled at his nickname for her and entered, Richard following. The gentlemen shook hands. “To what do we owe the honour of your visit?”
“I had some time off today and wanted to visit my favourite girl.” He touched Georgiana’s cheek.
Georgiana blushed. “Mrs. Annesley has a headache, so I sent her to bed. I thought we might take tea in here?”
“A fine idea.”
His sister spoke to someone in the corridor. Two maids came in with the tea service and set it up in the sitting area of his study. As soon as they left the room, Georgiana went to work preparing his tea, then Richard’s. Darcy made himself comfortable and grabbed a biscuit off the tray.
When finished with her tasks, she seemed tense. He searched for something to say to soothe her. “I heard you practicing the pianoforte earlier. Your skill improves every day.”
“Thank you.” She placed her teacup on the table.
Richard made a gesture, urging her to speak. What was going on here?
“Brother, I must again apologize for what happened last summer. Please, be assured nothing like that will ever occur again.”
He frowned. “I know it will not, Georgiana. Why do you mention it?”
She lowered her eyes to examine her hands in her lap. “While you were away of late, your letters were quite optimistic, but while you have been at home… well, you have not been yourself since you returned from Mr. Bingley’s estate. You have seemed even more out of sorts since returning from Rosings. The only conclusion I can reach is that you fear a relapse of my mistake.”
Darcy met Richard’s gaze. Richard raised an eyebrow.
“Georgie, I apologize. I have been in a sulk, but it has nothing to do with you. Not at all.”
Darcy put his hand to his mouth. Richard knew much of his story with Elizabeth, but he did not know about the proposal. He let out a long breath. If he did not explain about Elizabeth, Georgiana would continue to misunderstand him. He had experienced enough misunderstandings in the recent past to last a lifetime.
He sighed. “When I was in Hertfordshire, I met a young lady.”
How much to explain?
“Yes. Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Georgiana said.
Shock ran through him.
He looked at Richard, who shook his head and held up his hands. “I did not tell her.”
“Do not be so surprised, Brother,” said Georgiana. “You mentioned her in your every letter; in some, many times.”
“I did?”
Georgiana nodded and smiled slyly. “I thought for certain you would propose—” She stopped suddenly and blushed. “I am sorry. I should not have assumed, and I should not have said so.”
“I had no idea I had spoken of her that often in my letters.”
Now Richard was gesturing for him to continue.
“But you see, her family does not move in the same circle as we do, and there were other objections I had to the match, at first, so I left Hertfordshire, hoping to forget her. I did not, however. And when I arrived at Rosings Park, there she was again, visiting her friend who had married Aunt Catherine’s new clergyman. Richard and Anne recognized my attraction to her. Even Aunt Catherine warned me away from her.” He chuckled. “Apparently the only person who did not notice how I felt about Miss Bennet was Miss Bennet.”
“That is because you were acting like a dolt,
not a lover, Cousin.” Richard sat back and put his feet on an ottoman.
“Yes.” Darcy slumped. “And then I proposed.”
Richard bolted upright. “Oh!”
“Apparently, she felt as you do, Richard, about my not acting the lover. She refused me.”
“Ah, well,” said Richard. “That explains your foul mood on the journey to London.”
Georgiana’s expression turned indignant. “But you are everything a gentleman should be. If she is fool enough to deny you, you are better off without her. How could she have refused you?”
“Believe me, Miss Bennet had every right to reject me.” He stood and paced the space before the hearth. “I made a complete disaster of offering for her; although, I do think I started out fairly well.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I wish I had stopped there, but I could not leave well enough alone. I told her my family would oppose the marriage, and then went on to insult her and her entire family. I explained how I had tried to forget her because she was wrong for me, but since I could not put her out of my mind, I arrogantly demanded that she should accept my proposal.”
Georgiana, and even Richard, were wide-eyed.
“And that was not the worst of it. When she politely refused my appalling proposal, I accused her of being uncivil. Only then did I find out the whole truth of what she already knew.”
He closed his eyes. “Somehow, she became aware, or had guessed, that I had tried to keep Charles Bingley from returning to Hertfordshire to marry her beloved sister.”
Georgiana’s mouth dropped open. “Why would you do such a thing, Fitzwilliam?”
“I thought her sister was mercenary, because she never showed any outward sign of affection for Charles. I have subsequently realized that if Jane Bennet, now Mrs. Bingley, had flirted outright, I would have thought her false. I am now convinced my opinion was formed because I overheard her mother telling her friend that Charles was in love with her daughter and boasting that he had five thousand a year.”
