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Chapter 21
August 10, 1812
It was still dark when Elizabeth slipped quietly out of the Gardiners' front door. She sat on the front stoop and put on her walking boots, having walked down the stairs and across the foyer in her stocking feet in order to make a soundless escape. Once her boot laces were snugly tied, she walked down the street with only one dimly lit streetlamp to guide her.
Elizabeth's throat was constricted with fear; she had walked alone before dawn in Hertfordshire on a number of occasions, but this was different by far. As early as she could remember, she had heard tales of the terrors of London street life. She knew about thieves and cutthroats, and ruthless bespoilers of young ladies' virtue
After she had walked several blocks, Elizabeth saw a dark figure ahead of her; she bit her tongue to keep from crying out. As she got closer, she realized that the figure was an old man in tattered clothing. He was slowly chewing on the end of a piece of bread. When he saw Elizabeth, the man looked up at her and smiled. He broke off the other end of his loaf and held it out to her.
"Want some, Miss? I have plenty."
Elizabeth smiled graciously. "I thank you, sir, but I am not hungry." She wished that she had some extra coins to give him. His generosity braced her spirits somewhat, causing her to feel that the streets were not quite so dangerous after all.
After what seemed to be a very long while, but was probably only a few minutes, Elizabeth finally came across a hackney carriage.
When he saw her, the driver jumped down to the ground and approached her. "Carriage, milady?"
Elizabeth gave him the address of her destination, and after a brief negotiation over the price, the driver helped her up into the carriage. Elizabeth sat down on the hard seat with a sigh of relief.
As the open carriage moved swiftly through the streets, Elizabeth leaned forward and peered out into the dim light. She was curious, now that she was in a place of safety, to see what occurred in London in the wee hours of the morning.
The streetlamps were brighter after the carriage moved out of the environs of Cheapside, allowing her to observe the goings-on in the street. There was a surprising number of people about, mainly gentlemen walking in groups of two and three, some of them weaving in a drunken manner. There were a number of peddlers about, as well, hawking all manner of items from hot chestnuts to matches to little nosegays of flowers. Elizabeth also noticed three or four garishly dressed women calling out gaily to the men who walked by. She guessed that they must be prostitutes; she was surprised that, except for their bright clothing and their loud voices, they did not appear to be any different from the women that Elizabeth knew. One of the women looked up and noticed Elizabeth staring at her. She caught Elizabeth's eye and blew her an exaggerated kiss. Elizabeth was both shocked and intrigued by the woman's brazen behavior.
The carriage soon drew up in front of an elegant townhouse. The driver turned towards Elizabeth.
"Here, we are milady. Handsome place, it is. Shall I wait for you? You will have trouble finding another hack in these parts; most of the gents here have their own carriage and the like."
Elizabeth took a deep breath to settle her nerves. The truth was she had not thought far ahead. She had no plan for what to do once she arrived at the colonel's lodgings other than to simply find him and persuade him to give up his plans to fight Wickham. As she stared at the imposing dwelling in front of her, she now realized that talking to the colonel might involve waking up a number of servants and other people as well. She did not want to call more attention to herself than necessary or put herself into a compromising situation.
As Elizabeth sat debating what to do, a large enclosed carriage pulled up behind the cab. The coachman yelled loudly at the hack driver to move along. While her driver was vociferously arguing with the coachman, Elizabeth pulled her bonnet down so as to shield her face. She heard the sound of footsteps and the tap-tap of a walking stick. Then she heard a familiar voice question her driver, and she shivered with the shock of recognition. Oddly, it had never occurred to her that the address the colonel had given her was Darcy's. He was the last person that she wanted to see at the moment, but he was also probably the one person she could rely upon for assistance in this delicate matter. She leaned out of the carriage, trying to appear as composed and sedate as possible.
"Good morning, Mr. Darcy. What a coincidence to find you here. We seem predestined to meet in the most surprising manner."
Darcy stared at Elizabeth with disbelief, his mouth fixed in a tight line. "Miss Bennet. I somehow do not think that meeting you in front of my house at this hour of the day could fairly be said to be coincidental. Surely, you do not expect me to believe that you just happen to be stopping in front of my house at five in the morning."
Elizabeth was embarrassed to be challenged so openly. She was also chagrined to discover that the hack driver had twisted around to face her and was avidly observing the interaction between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.
"Please, sir, can you assist me down so that we can discuss this matter in relative privacy."
Darcy looked at her severely for a moment and then helped her down from the hack. Before Elizabeth could say anything further, he handed a fistful of coins to the hackney driver and then dismissed him with an authoritative wave of his hand. Darcy firmly grasped Elizabeth's elbow and walked her inside the ornate gated fence protecting his home from the street. As they passed his carriage, Darcy signaled to his coachman to keep the carriage waiting.
Darcy glared at Elizabeth with his arms crossed over his chest. "Well then, Madam, I believe that you owe me an explanation."
Elizabeth drew herself up to her full height. "I came here to find Colonel Fitzwilliam. This was the address that he gave me to reach him."
"You traveled the streets of London alone at this ungodly hour to speak to my cousin?" Darcy's voice shook with fury.
She had never seen him so angry, not even just after she had refused him at Hunsford.
"I need to speak to him about something very important; indeed, it is a matter of life and death."
Darcy looked at Elizabeth skeptically and gestured for her to continue with an imperious wave of his hand.
Although Elizabeth had not wanted to burden Darcy with the details, she felt that she had no choice but to provide them. "Colonel Fitzwilliam has recently located my sister and Wickham. My sister, Lydia, has just written me that the colonel has challenged Wickham to a duel. I came here to persuade him to abandon the idea. Please, Mr. Darcy, do you not see that we must stop him? Wickham is not to be trusted; your cousin could well be killed."
"I believe that my cousin is well able to take care of himself; but you are right, Wickham is not one to fight fair." Darcy seemed to have his anger under some regulation, but the thin line of his mouth still betrayed his displeasure. "That in no way justifies the danger you put yourself in coming here alone. I am surprised at you, Miss Bennet; I thought you were a woman of good sense. I will see you safely back to your aunt's house and then I will do my best to put a stop to the duel."
Elizabeth clutched Mr. Darcy's arm. "No, I will not go back. You must allow me to go with you. I believe that I have a better chance than you of talking the colonel out of this duel. And I will not rest until I know that he is unharmed. After all, he is taking this risk for my sake."
Darcy clenched his jaw; he did not care to be reminded of the understanding between Elizabeth and his cousin. It was hard enough to know that she had come here to see Fitzwilliam, not him.
Noting Darcy's hesitation, Elizabeth pressed on. "You offered once to assist me in any way I desired, and this is all that I ask."
Darcy's voice dropped low. "I believe your response to that offer was that all you required from me was that I forget that certain occurrences occurred, and that I refrain from proposing to you ever again." Both pain and anger were evident in Mr. Darcy's voice.
"I was wrong, sir. Please do not throw my words in my face at a time like this. I need your immediate assistance. I would not ask it of you if there was any other recourse."
"Very well," Darcy said tersely. "But you must follow my lead in this. I will not have you putting yourself in further danger."
Darcy quickly consulted with his coachman and then assisted Elizabeth into his carriage. To her surprise, he stumbled slightly as he got in. She had never before seen him move with anything less than perfect grace. He sat in the corner furthest from her, as if uncomfortable to sit too close. She was glad of the distance; being alone with him in the dim carriage made it hard enough for Elizabeth to keep her wits about her. She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye, and saw that he had his head thrown back and his eyes closed. In the confines of the carriage, she now clearly smelled the strong odor of brandy
"Mr. Darcy, I believe you are in your cups!"
Mr. Darcy grimaced slightly at this bold statement. "I am hardly in my cups. I was, perhaps, mildly intoxicated until the sight of you standing in the street alone in the middle of the night sobered me completely."
"I was not standing in the street, sir, I was sitting in a carriage."
Mr. Darcy made an inarticulate noise that expressed his opinion of this distinction. "Do you intend to argue with me during the entire ride, madam?"
"Perhaps if you tell me where we are going and how long it will take to get there, I can better advise you whether I intend to quarrel with you the whole way or not."
Darcy's lips quirked into a half-smile at this arch reply, but his face quickly regained its severe aspect.
"We are going to a deserted corner of a park on the edge of London where duels are commonly fought. I cannot assure you that we will arrive at the right place or at the right time, as my ignorance of my cousin's plans has made me resort to guessing. With few other carriages on the streets, we will probably arrive there in fifteen minutes."
"I believe I can manage not to quarrel with you for a quarter-hour, sir, but you will have to distract me with pleasant conversation."
"What do you wish to speak about?"
"Georgiana."
Darcy looked rather surprised, and then nodded his head slowly. "What do you wish to know about my sister?"
"Many things. I would like to know what she was like as a child, what her studies have been, and what are your plans for her future."
Darcy spoke at length about Georgiana. Talking of his sister seemed to relax him. His face lost its tense look and he even smiled slightly several times. Most of the information he revealed was not news to Elizabeth, but he did provide some new information. Among other things, Darcy revealed that he wished Georgiana to marry someone she cared for, but he also had expectations that she would marry well. Elizabeth listened to this with an increasing sense of sadness. It confirmed what she already knew; she must not marry Darcy. No matter how Lydia's situation was resolved, a close connection with her family would clearly lessen Georgiana's chances of marrying someone from a high station.
The carriage came to an abrupt sudden stop. Elizabeth looked out the window and saw they were in a deserted area of the park. There were no streetlamps, but streaks of light were just starting to brighten the sky. Elizabeth felt a terrible sense of foreboding which lessened somewhat when Darcy touched her hand briefly.
Chapter 22
Darcy alighted from the carriage, and then helped Elizabeth down. "Please remain behind me, Miss Bennet, at least until we can determine what is happening."
Before Darcy could determine which direction to take, two men came into view carrying what appeared to be a man's body lying on a board. Elizabeth picked up her skirts and ran towards the men. Darcy shook his head in exasperation and loped off after Elizabeth. Elizabeth stared down at the figure on the board and gasped. The man's face was covered in blood and bandages; it was impossible to make out his identity. He appeared to be still alive, judging from the faint groans that emanated from him.
"Who is this man?" Elizabeth asked, her voice shaking.
"Move along, young lady," one of the men said. "This is no place for you."
Darcy stepped forward. "Is one of you a medical man?"
A tall, gaunt man with thinning hair nodded. "I am a doctor, sir."
"Tell me the identity of this man at once, or I will see that you lose your license."
The doctor responded to him in the tone of deference reserved for men of wealth or title. "I have heard him referred to as Wickham. I know nothing else about him."
"And his condition?"
"He will live, sir. His face has been deeply slashed during a duel, but I have sewn him up, and most of the bleeding has stopped. He will have a nasty scar, however. I do fine stitching, if I say so myself, but due to the nature of his wound, there was no way to prevent thick scarring."
"And the man who did this to him, what is his condition?"
"He is unscathed, sir. Not a hair on his head is harmed." The doctor looked suddenly anxious to be on his way. "Now, if you will allow me, I will get my patient to a bed."
Darcy nodded, and the doctor and his assistant proceeded to carry their burden to a waiting carriage. Elizabeth ran after the men, anxious to know where they were taking Wickham. If they were taking him to the place he was staying with Lydia, she wanted to go with them. She did not want her sister to be alone when she saw Wickham's bloodied face and prone form.
Darcy started to follow Elizabeth to the carriage, but a horse and rider rode up and stopped in front of him, blocking his path. Darcy looked up and saw his cousin. "Fitz," he said dryly. "It seems that you have not been idle since I last saw you.
"Darcy, what in hell's name are you doing here?"
"I escorted Miss Bennet here. Please move your horse out of my path. I must stay with her."
The colonel looked over towards the carriage into which Wickham was just now being lifted. Hovering near the carriage was a small woman, simply dressed in a bonnet and light cape. All he could see was the back of her. "Miss Bennet? Lydia Bennet?"
Darcy had already turned and skirted around the colonel's horse, and was rapidly walking toward the woman. The colonel jumped off of his horse and quickly followed. The colonel came right up next to Elizabeth before he could see her clearly enough to recognize her. He gasped with surprise.
"Elizabeth! Why are you here?"
She looked closely at the colonel in order to reassure herself that he was unharmed. "I came to prevent you from fighting George Wickham, but I see I was too late."
"You came here with my cousin without a chaperone?"
"Mr. Darcy was kind enough to escort me here, yes."
"I doubt kindness had much to do with it. We will discuss this later. Right now, I want to take you home. Come, you can ride with me on my horse." The colonel gripped Elizabeth's arm tightly and started to pull her in the direction of his horse.
Elizabeth wrenched her arm from his grasp and moved out of his reach. "No, sir, I prefer to ride in the carriage with Mr. Wickham. I want to be with my sister when she sees his condition."
"I will take you to the establishment where your sister is staying. You will get there much faster riding with me."
The colonel advanced upon Elizabeth again. Darcy quickly stepped between them.
"It is unpardonable of you to demand that Miss Bennet ride with you on horseback through town at this hour." Darcy gestured at the lightening sky. "You will make a public spectacle of her and ruin her reputation."
The colonel glared at Darcy. "Stay out of this, Darcy. You know nothing of the situation. I would do nothing to harm Miss Bennet and she is well aware of that."
"I know enough to realize that you have already put her in a position that no honorable man would have put her in."
As the two men stood there arguing, the carriage into which Wickham's body had been placed started moving away. Elizabeth looked at the disappearing carriage, and shook her head despairingly. How would she find Lydia now?
The colonel turned to Elizabeth. "Well, my dear, you have no choice now but to return with either me or Darcy. Which course do you choose?" He wore a complacent look on his face, as if there was no question but that her choice would be to his liking.
Elizabeth hesitated for only a moment. She knew that if she rode in public with the colonel on his mount, she would have no choice but to marry him. "I choose to return with Mr. Darcy."
The colonel scowled. He took Elizabeth's arm and drew her aside. "Elizabeth, more is at stake here than your transportation home. It would be most improper for you to ride in a carriage alone with Darcy." He lowered his voice. "Especially, in light of your understanding with me. Your place is with me now and I will take care of you. Any damage to your reputation by riding with me will be fully repaired upon our marriage. I ask you again Elizabeth, do you choose to ride with me or travel alone with Darcy in his carriage?"
Elizabeth darted a look at Mr. Darcy. He was staring at her intently, waiting for her answer. She returned her gaze to the colonel. "I am sorry, sir, but I choose to travel with Mr. Darcy."
Darcy stepped forward and lightly placed his hand on Elizabeth's arm. "Miss Bennet has made her choice, cousin. I will see her home in safety. Do not press her any further."
The colonel raised his right hand and crashed his fist into Darcy's jaw just under his chin. The punch was quick and furious; Darcy staggered backgrounds but he remained on his feet. While Elizabeth and Darcy were both reeling from the shock of the assault on Darcy, the colonel advanced upon Darcy again and punched him in the eye. This second punch was so forceful that it knocked Darcy to the ground.
Elizabeth screamed and grabbed the colonel's right arm. "Do not dare hit him again." She fell on her knees beside Darcy.
The colonel turned and quickly mounted his horse. He looked down at Elizabeth. "You will regret this choice, Miss Bennet." He spat out the last two words as if they were distasteful and rode away.
A few moments later, after Elizabeth gave the coachman directions to her aunt's neighborhood in Cheapside, she and Darcy were sitting across from each other in his carriage. Darcy's left eye was swollen and a large ugly bruise was starting to bloom on his jaw. He looked as if he was having difficulty holding his head upright.
"I believe you would be more comfortable lying down, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said softly.
"I will wait until I can get home and prop my head on some pillows. I do not believe that lying on a flat surface will help the pounding in my head."
Before she could reconsider her actions, Elizabeth stood up and swiftly moved to the other side of the carriage. "Please lay your head in my lap, you will be much more comfortable."
With a soft sigh, Darcy lay down until his head was cushioned on Elizabeth's lap. She bent over him and gently brushed his hair away from his eyes.
"I am afraid that your left eye is swollen shut completely. You will have to see out of one eye for a while."
"I would far rather look at you with one eye than look at anyone else with both eyes."
Elizabeth laughed softly and continued to gently stroke Mt. Darcy's hair. "That is a very pretty sentiment, sir, but I am sure your eye and jaw must be quite painful. You would be wise to rest quietly until we get you back home."
"I assure you that I am not suffering. Indeed, I cannot recall when I have felt happier."
Elizabeth tried to keep her voice light. "It's a wonder, sir, that such things as being knocked to the ground by your cousin and being saddled for the morning with a troublesome woman would cause you such happiness."
Darcy reached out and grabbed Elizabeth's hand and held it in both of his. "You know very well what the source of my happiness is. As my cousin said, there was more involved in your choice than your means of transportation. Perhaps it is my dazed condition, but I am confident now that you care for me. Please do not deny it. If you did, you would cause me suffering far beyond anything that my cousin's fist has caused."
Elizabeth allowed her hand to remain between Darcy's two hands. "I will not deny it. My feelings for you have grown considerably. We must not speak of our feelings now, however, as this is not the place or the time." She pulled her hand from Darcy's grasp and resumed stroking his hair back from his face. The expression in her eyes filled him with hope.
"I disagree. I must speak of my feelings; my heart, as well as my head, is pounding now, and if I do not express my love for you now, there may be dire consequences to my health." Darcy paused. "I love you ardently and completely. I am delighted that your feelings for me have improved, but what I need to know is whether you believe that you will ever come to love me."
Elizabeth's eyes did not waver from his face. She slowly stroked a line down his face, stopping before she reached the swollen part of his jaw. "I love you now," she responded, her voice so low it was almost inaudible.
Darcy sat up suddenly and moved so close to Elizabeth that their thighs were touching.
Elizabeth gasped. "Sir, you must not exert yourself."
Darcy laughed fully, and his one good eye expressed his excellent humor. He slid next to Elizabeth and kissed the soft skin next to her eye. "Your lovely eyes will ease the pain in mine."
He untied Elizabeth's bonnet and removed it. He gently put his arms around Elizabeth and kissed her just under left eyebrow; he repeatedly kissed that spot and then turned his attentions to the spot below her right eyebrow. Her eyes drifted close, and he brushed her eyelids with light kisses. Just as before, Elizabeth's eyes flew open and soon their lips were touching. Darcy kissed her softly and chastely at first, and then his kiss grew more demanding. Elizabeth instinctively parted her lips and Darcy's tongue soon penetrated her mouth. Elizabeth went rigid with shock; she had never suspected that Mr. Darcy, of all people, would do anything so uncivilized. She did not pull away, however, and she soon found herself shyly caressing his tongue with her own. Darcy responded with a moan.
Elizabeth immediately sprang away from Darcy. "I hurt you, I am so sorry. I forgot about your injuries."
Darcy smiled sweetly at Elizabeth. "I forgot all about them, too, but I am glad you brought us back to earth." Darcy lightly touched the curl at the nape of her neck. "We must discuss the future, Elizabeth. Please say that you will marry me. I will do everything in my power to ensure that you never regret it."
"It pains me to say this, but I must..."
Darcy distracted Elizabeth from completing her sentence, by pulling her back into his arms. "Then do not say it. There has been enough pain today. I see we are nearing the spot in Cheapside where you requested my coachman to take you. I do not want to spend the next few moments quarreling with you. Let us reserve this discussion for another day."
Elizabeth nodded her head slightly against Darcy's chest and placed her arms around his neck. She did not want to add to his present distress by telling him she could not marry him; as he said, it could wait for another day. She would enjoy this sweet interlude for as long as it lasted.
They remained in each other's embrace until the carriage came to a stop. Darcy and Elizabeth reluctantly released each other and Darcy silently put Elizabeth's bonnet on her head. He tied the ribbons around her neck and then kissed her lightly on the lips.
"Are you sure you will be safe here, my love?"
Elizabeth's voice was unsteady when she answered. "Quite sure. My aunt's house is only one block from here and it is full daylight now."
Darcy knocked on the ceiling of the carriage with his walking stick and within moments, the coachman opened the door and assisted Elizabeth down. Elizabeth immediately headed down the street without looking back. When she reached the corner, she saw the same elderly man that she had encountered earlier that morning, still crouching on the same corner. Glad that she had something to give him after all, she approached him and offered him the coins that she had meant to spend on the hack carriage.
"Here you are, sir. Please take these coins with my blessing."
The old man looked at Elizabeth in amazement and shook his head vehemently. "Oh no, I have everything I need." He tipped his battered hat and grinned at Elizabeth. "I wish you the same, love. God bless you."
Chapter 23
August 10, 1812
Colonel Fitzwilliam had paced the perimeter of Shelby's sitting room so many times and at so furious a pace that he was dizzy from the exercise. Porkhost, no doubt concerned that the colonel was wearing holes in Shelby's Turkish carpet, had several times attempted to entice the colonel to sit down by bringing in trays of cold meat and cheese, but the colonel had waved him away. He could no more eat than he could sit still. He continued to pace as he relived the events of the morning.
It had still been dark when he and Wickham faced each other in the torchlight with their swords drawn. Believing that Wickham would try some trick if he could not beat the colonel fairly, the colonel initially masked his own prowess, allowing Wickham to believe that he had the advantage. Fortunately, Wickham was a better swordsman than the colonel had anticipated so that it was not too difficult for the colonel to give the appearance of being the weaker opponent. After the colonel had responded to one of Wickham's thrusts with a particularly weak parry, Shelby, standing on the sidelines, had audibly gasped. Spurred on by Shelby's gasp, Wickham had advanced upon the colonel with a triumphant look in his eye. With a lightening stroke, the colonel had knocked Wickham's sword from his hand and then pressed his own blade against Wickham's throat. The look in Wickham's eyes quickly turned from triumphant to terrified. Keeping his eyes fixed upon Wickham's, the colonel had moved his sword from Wickham's throat to his temple, and then slowly and deliberately had slashed a line from Wickham's brow to his chin.
The colonel had felt a surge of pleasure when he first drew Wickham's blood, thinking of the suffering that Wickham had caused to his own family and to Elizabeth's. His pleasure soon palled, however, as he observed Wickham's eyes cloud over with pain and horror while the blood poured down his face. The colonel had drawn blood with his sword before, but that had been in the heat of battle. Never before had he had deliberately cut into another's man's flesh for personal reasons; and never before had he felt pleasure in such a savage act. He felt a small flush of shame, not for wounding Wickham, but for the coldness of the act, and for the enjoyment he had taken in it.
He looked beyond Wickham to where Digby and his mistress had been observing the duel. The colonel had been shocked by the presence of the woman earlier. It was unheard of for a woman to attend a duel. As he observed the satisfied look on her face as she watched Wickham's agony, the colonel realized that this whole event had been staged for her benefit. Digby, looking as pleased as his mistress, glanced over at the colonel and nodded; it was the kind of nod one would give a servant for a job well done. The colonel's sense of shame increased and he gritted his teeth.
Digby walked slowly toward Wickham and stood directly in front of him. "You will wed the young lady that you recently absconded with. I will then forgive your debts to me, but you are not to show your face in London again. Do you understand?" Wickham nodded and then, his knees buckled suddenly and he fainted to the ground. Digby signaled to the doctor who had been waiting in the sidelines to attend to Wickham. Then Digby returned to his mistress' side and started leading her up the slope to their waiting carriage.
The colonel stared at Digby's retreating back. Digby had not seen fit to tell him that he was Wickham's creditor. It was clear now that Digby had played him for a fool. With clenched fists, the colonel had started walking towards Digby, but Shelby had stepped forward and put a hand on his arm.
"Fitz! What with all that blood, I almost forgot my duties as your second. Come, let me wipe you down and give you some brandy. I could use a snort or two of it myself."
Unable to resist the lure of brandy, the colonel decided to confront Digby at a later time. He allowed Shelby to lead him to a nearby stand of trees and wipe his brow with a large silk handkerchief. After they had finished off Shelby's flask of brandy, Shelby produced two large cigars and offered one to the colonel. The two men had smoked in silence. To the colonel's relief, the thick smell of tobacco smoke partially blotted out the potent smell of blood.
Finally, Shelby broke the silence. "Who is going to see to the young lady?"
The colonel frowned, his thoughts had been focused on Digby. "Which young lady?"
"The girl, your fiancée's sister. Wickham is not a pretty sight; I imagine she will faint herself when she sees him. Young ladies seem to pass out these days for the littlest reason, and Wickham's face provides deuced good reason to keel over if there ever was one. He looks like something from the slaughter house."
The colonel closed his eyes, feeling another wave of shame wash over him. He had forgotten entirely about Elizabeth's sister. Shelby was right, someone needed to look after the girl, but he could not bring himself to do it. He was the one after all who had savaged Wickham's face; she would hardly want to see him.
"Will you go, Shelby, and see to her? I will give you her family's address in Cheapside, you should take her there to her sisters. She will want to stay there, anyway, until the wedding."
Shelby looked uncomfortable at the idea, but he nodded. "What is her name?"
For a moment, the colonel could not remember, then it finally came to him. "Lydia, Lydia Bennet."
"That's a deuced fine name. I had a horse named Lydia once. Do you remember, Fitz?" said Shelby. "She was remarkably lively but she broke her foreleg and I had to put her down. Damned shame it was; she was a magnificent animal."
They finished smoking their cigars while they had watched the doctor deftly stitch Wickham up. Wickham must have still been unconscious, because he did not stir or cry out while the doctor worked his needle in and out of Wickham's face.
When the doctor was done with his work and Wickham was thrown on a makeshift stretcher, Shelby stood up and joined the doctor.
"I will take good care of the girl." He called over his shoulder as he walked behind the stretcher and its carriers.
The colonel stayed behind for awhile, grateful for a moment of solitude. Then he went to find his horse. He still felt a mixture of shame and anger as he rode his horse up the hill, but his mood was starting to improve as he realized that he would be able to formalize his engagement with Elizabeth soon. Wickham had, after all, just agreed to marry Elizabeth's sister. The colonel was wondering how many hours he would have to wait until he could decently pay a visit to Elizabeth at her aunt's house, when he encountered Darcy.
When the colonel had discovered, soon thereafter, that Elizabeth had come with Darcy to stop him from dueling, he had felt irritated at both Elizabeth and Darcy for being so reckless. He had felt no real jealousy then, however, secure in the belief that Elizabeth returned his love. Thus, the colonel had been caught completely off guard when Elizabeth had chosen Darcy over him. It was not just her words, as the way in which Elizabeth's entire being had seemed to soften when Darcy had laid his arm upon hers that had triggered the colonel's jealousy.
The colonel was then overtaken by a sense of fury so strong that he was more than half blinded by it. He had launched himself at Darcy, and hit him not once, but twice. He would have kept hitting him if Elizabeth had not restrained him. She had looked at the colonel then with such animosity that the he had literally felt a pain in his heart. He remembered throwing himself on his horse and shouting some bitter words to Elizabeth before riding off at a breakneck pace.
Seething with rage and despair, the colonel had ridden for hours and hours. It was not until both he and his horse were so tired that they could hardly hold their heads up that the colonel finally returned to Shelby's house. He had stalked into the house and after ascertaining that Shelby had not returned home, the colonel had retreated to Shelby's study. Tired as he already was from riding, he could not stop himself from pacing; and here he was, more than an hour later, exhausted and footsore, pacing still.
The colonel sank suddenly into a chair, unable to stay on his feet a moment longer. It was the strength of his emotions that were the biggest drain to his energy. He had lived his life up to now without feeling very deeply about anything or anyone. He had a fondness for many things and many people, Darcy and Georgiana, chief among them, but he had never needed or wanted anyone with anything close to the intensity that he still wanted Elizabeth. He had always thought that love was a pure and elevating emotion, but this violent passion that he felt for Elizabeth was dark and lowering. The idea that Elizabeth preferred Darcy to him made the colonel wish them both evil.
The colonel had a sudden desire to play chess. He hoped that the strategic challenge of the chess board would calm down his overwrought emotions. He strode to the door and called for Porkhost. The man appeared almost instantaneously.
"I believe there is a chess board in the house, but it might take me awhile to locate it." Porkhost had responded to the colonel's query. "Mr. Shelby has never used it, I am afraid."
The colonel nodded. "I am not surprised. I daresay Shelby would not know a pawn from a bishop."
"Precisely, sir. He would not know a bishop from a vicar either, but that is another matter," said Porkhost before he withdrew. Porkhost returned a few moments later carrying a chessboard and pieces. He swiftly set it up; the colonel noticed that he knew the exact location of each piece.
After Porkhost had departed, the colonel lovingly picked up the black queen, his thoughts returning to Elizabeth. How could he bear it if Elizabeth married Darcy? The colonel closed his eyes and sunk down in his chair, still clutching the black queen. But would Darcy marry her? The colonel would have said one week ago that it was impossible that a man with Darcy's pride and sense of self-consequence would marry so far beneath him, but he knew now what love and passion could do to a man. If Darcy felt anything approaching the degree of passion that the colonel himself felt for Elizabeth, he would overlook any family impediment, even Wickham.
The colonel stared at the chess piece in his hand. Elizabeth had deceived him grievously. He had been convinced that she loved him. She had melted so sweetly into his arms during those several occasions in which he had held her, and she had even allowed him to braid her hair and caress her neck. In addition to granting him these liberties, she had agreed to marry him once the situation with Wickham and Lydia had been resolved. Surely, these things meant she cared for him. Perhaps, he had imagined more between Elizabeth and Darcy than there actually was.
The colonel put the black queen in her place on the back of the board. He moved a white pawn two spaces forward while he thought back to the events of the morning. Elizabeth had refused to ride with him on his horse, preferring to travel in Darcy's carriage. Although he had taken this as a sign of rejection, perhaps, this reflected nothing more than the fact that she did not want to ride with the colonel on his horse. True, it would have been somewhat scandalous for her to ride through town on his horse. The colonel bolted upright as he suddenly remembered something that Elizabeth had told him once in Kent. She had said that she had only been on horseback once in her life, and it had been an experience she did not care to repeat. The colonel felt suddenly giddy with hope. Perhaps, Elizabeth's determination to ride with Darcy had been motivated chiefly by fear of riding on his horse. He thought back to Elizabeth's various looks and gestures of this morning and determined that they signified very little after all other than relief that she would not have to ride on a horse, and dismay that the colonel had hit his cousin.
The colonel moved the black knight forward in the position most protective of the queen. His heart felt lighter already. There was still a chance that he could have Elizabeth. Perhaps, he had blown everything out of proportion. After all, Elizabeth had not retracted her promise to marry him if Wickham married Lydia, she merely chose to ride home in a carriage instead of a horse.
The colonel suddenly heard laughter coming from downstairs. He froze as he recognized the voices of Shelby and Elizabeth. Elizabeth was here, he thought and a bolt of joy shot through him. She would not be laughing so with Shelby if she had decided to refuse the colonel's suit. The colonel smiled and shoved the chessboard away from him. He strode to the mirror and fussed with his hair, trying to decide whether he would go downstairs to greet Elizabeth or wait until she came up to see him. Although part of him wanted to run downstairs and embrace her, his pride prohibited him from doing so.
He sat down on Shelby's sofa, arranging his legs and arms in a casual pose. He decided that he would accept her apology graciously and then he would tell her that Wickham had agreed to marry Lydia immediately. He smiled as he imagined her face when he told her the news.
He heard quick footsteps on the stairs and he sat up straighter, schooling his features into a nonchalant expression. The door burst open and Shelby entered the room, his face glowing brighter than the end of his cigar.
"Fitz, you will never guess what has occurred! I am still reeling from the shock of it."
"Yes, I heard you come in with Miss Bennet. Where is she?"
"She is taking a bath before we leave town. She has not had a hot bath in days and days. I wonder how long she will take, we can not dally for too long you know. Why remember when Sherman tried to elope with that red headed chit, they took too long about it and..."
"Shelby, I do not have the faintest idea what you are prattling on about. Would you please tell me why my fiancée is taking a bath in your house?"
Shelby closed his mouth and then opened it again. "Your fiancée, Fitz? No, no, I am talking about Miss Lydia Bennet. Lydia, like the horse. She is as lively as the other Lydia, too. She even snorts like a horse when she laughs. She is magnificent."
The colonel held up his hand, "Enough of this nonsense, Shelby. I know you cannot talk sense when you are excited. Sit down and have a glass of brandy. Then I will ask you questions and you will answer."
Shelby nodded and sank down into a nearby chair. Fitz handed him a glass of brandy which Shelby downed in two gulps.
"Now then, am I correct that Miss Lydia Bennet is here in this house taking a bath?"
Shelby nodded.
"Why is she in your house?"
"I told you, Fitz, she wanted to take a bath before we leave town. We are going to Scotland."
"And why are you going to Scotland?"
Shelby's eyes brightened. "That is the exciting part Fitz. We are going to Gretna Green to get married."
The colonel frowned and shook his head as if trying to clear out his ears. "You and Lydia Bennet are eloping to Scotland?
Shelby nodded.
"Tonight?"
Shelby nodded again.
"Why?"
"She must marry and she will not marry Wickham. He was a terrible brute to her, Fitz. I witnessed it myself. I would have called him out for it, but you already did that this morning, and he did not look in the condition for another duel."
"Tell me what happened."
"After one of Digby's men and I had helped Wickham up the stairs of his boarding house, Lydia came to the door. You should have seen her, Fitz, she is such a fine, sturdy looking gel . Then, she saw Wickham and screamed. Other girls would have fainted, but Lydia just put her hands on her hips and screamed. Wickham said some cruel things to her then. I will not even repeat them, but he was a scoundrel, I can tell you. Then Lydia said that Wickham looked like the devil and she would not have him anymore. Wickham made a move as if to hit her and I stepped in between them. Lydia told Wickham that she never wanted to see him again and she ran out the house. I followed her, of course. I certainly did not want to stay there with Wickham."
"What happened then?"
"Well, I offered to take her to her family's house, but she refused to go. She said they would scold her and try to make her marry Wickham even though his looks were ruined. So, I decided to take her to my sister's house out in W----. We drove all the way there but my sister was not in. I did not have a clue what to do then, so I asked Lydia to marry me."
"Shelby, that is really quite decent of you, but you do not have to make that sacrifice. The girl is young. She will change her mind about marrying Wickham once she gets used to his looks. I will talk to her myself when she gets out of the bath and convince her to go to her aunt's house."
"But Fitz, you do not understand. I want to marry Lydia. I have never met any one like her before. She is uncommonly lively and fresh, and she loves to laugh. Even with everything that happened today, she managed to laugh most of the afternoon. I have never laughed so much in my life. She makes me feel ten years younger, and she does not mind that I talk a lot. I really think I am in love with the gel already, I really do."
The colonel was having difficulty comprehending this turn of events. "But Shelby, Lydia Bennet has been living with Wickham. You cannot possibly think to marry another man's leavings."
Shelby looked affronted. "She is not Wickham's leavings; she left him, not the other way around. I know it is the fashion to marry a chaste woman, but I do not have the stomach for it myself, Fitz. Why, the very idea of sleeping with an innocent girl who has no idea what to do, and all those tears and everything, it makes me ill. I have heard all of the stories, Fitz, and I will not have it. It is much better to marry a girl who knows what she is about and I can tell you that my Lydia certainly knows what she is about. She is just the one for me."
"As your friend, Shelby, I must insist that you forget this foolish idea at once. Lydia Bennet is only fifteen and she has already acted in the most scandalous fashion. She sounds completely feckless. Besides, she has no fortune."
"Neither does her sister, I imagine, and you are all set to marry her. Even if Lydia did have a fortune, I would probably just gamble it away; you know what I am like Fitz. She and I will do just fine on the monthly allowance my mother gives me, it is more than adequate. Do not try to talk me out of this, Fitz. My mind is quite made up. I have given Lydia my word and I will not go back on it. You should be happier about it. Just think, when you marry her sister, we will be brothers by marriage. Imagine that! Thank of what fun we will have at family parties."
The colonel's face darkened. "Well, as to that, I do not think it is likely."
Shelby waved his hand, "Oh come now, Fitz, everything will turn out splendidly, you will see. Have some brandy."
Colonel Fitzwilliam poured himself a large glass of brandy and looked at his friend. He could not help noticing how happy Shelby looked.
"Since you are determined to marry Lydia Bennet, I wish you joy." The colonel raised his brandy glass in a salute and then quickly downed half of its contents.
That evening, Colonel Fitzwilliam found himself in Digby's mistress's house trying to find Digby. The place was even more crowded than it had been when he had visited a few days earlier. Someone handed him a glass of champagne and he tossed it back in one gulp. The colonel spotted Digby on the other end of the room and he tried to make his way over to where he stood, but the crowd kept pressing him backwards.
The colonel felt a hand on his arm and he turned and found himself face to face with Digby's mistress. He greeted her curtly and started to turn quickly away. She kept her hand on his arm.
"I know this morning was not pleasant for you, colonel and I am sorry for that," Her voice was soft and her accent was genteel.
The colonel bowed slightly. "I was glad to be of service, madam." There was an edge of sarcasm in his voice.
"I understand that you did yourself a service, as well, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Now that Wickham is to be married, you can marry her sister. That is your desire, is it not?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam stiffened but said nothing. Besides, resenting the reference to Elizabeth, he did not like the fact that this woman knew so much about his personal affairs.
"I wanted to ask you about the handsome dark haired couple who came to the field this morning just before we left. Shelby indicated that the man is your cousin, is that correct?"
The colonel almost groaned, this was the last thing that he wanted to talk about, and with Digby's mistress of all people. He nodded and said nothing.
"I was sitting in my carriage when they arrived. They are a most striking couple, and their carriage is so elegant. Are they newly married? "
The colonel shook his head.
"Well, they must have a very happy marriage, then. Even though they were clearly worried about you, their devotion to each other was apparent. Why, just the way they looked at each other when the gentleman helped the lady down from their carriage made my pulse quicken. You probably will not believe it, Colonel Fitzwilliam, given my circumstances, but I am a firm believer in true love. I hope you will be as happy in your marriage as your friends seem to be in theirs."
The colonel had turned pale. "Thank you. Please excuse me, madam." Colonel Fitzwilliam pushed his way through the crowd until he came to a fairly deserted sitting area. He sank into a chair and put his head in his hands. His eyes had not deceived him, then. If a total stranger could sense a passionate connection between Darcy and Elizabeth, there must be something between them. A footman walked by and asked the colonel if he needed anything.
"Punch," said the colonel immediately. "Bring me a pitcher of laudanum punch and a cup."
By the time Digby found the colonel an hour or so later, the colonel was snookered.
"I am glad to see you, Colonel," said Digby in his colorless manner. "I have something for you."
The colonel opened an eye and stared at Digby. He knew he was supposed to be angry at Digby about something, but he could no longer remember why he was angry. "More punch?" he asked hopefully.
Digby's upper lip curled slightly. "No, it is something else. I will be right back."
Digby returned a few moments later carrying a small, heavy looking sack. He lifted it up and poured its contents onto the table in front of the colonel. The gold coins were so bright they hurt the colonel's eyes.
"These are you winnings. Remember, half the takings from the bet yesterday were to go to the winner of the duel. People were placing bets all afternoon. There is over 300 pounds here. You deserve it."
The colonel squinted at the money on the table and suddenly remembered why he was angry with Digby. He stood up to confront him, but the sudden motion made him dizzy, so he sat abruptly down again. He closed his eyes and clutched his stomach. "You are a bastard." The colonel said between clenched teeth.
"That is perfectly true," said Digby calmly, "and you are about to be very ill, I am afraid. I will have one of my men see you home at once."
Within a matter of minutes, Colonel Fitzwilliam found himself sprawled in a carriage with the bag of coins perched on his lap. He opened the bag and stared at his winnings as he thought about everything that he had lost.
Chapter 24
August 30, 1812
Elizabeth had to deliberately slow her pace down to keep a sufficient distance between herself and Jane and Mr. Bingley. She eventually tired of walking at a snail's pace and turned around and headed back toward Netherfield. It was a relief to Elizabeth when her sister and Mr. Bingley were no longer in sight, not only because she wanted to give the newly betrothed couple privacy, but because it was painful for her to see them so obviously in love when she herself was brokenhearted. Being in Mr. Bingley's company was also uncomfortable because he occasionally made veiled references to Elizabeth's 'engagement' to Mr. Darcy.
It has been almost three weeks since I last saw him, thought Elizabeth desolately. Three weeks since we last kissed, since I told him that I love him, and where is he now? When there were numerous obstacles to their marriage, she had encountered Mr. Darcy everywhere and he had repeatedly brought up the subject of marriage between them. Now, however, when all obstacles to a marriage between them had been eradicated, or at least lessened significantly, Mr. Darcy had disappeared. Elizabeth kicked a stone in her path and groaned aloud at the contrariness of it all.
"Insufferable man!" she said aloud.
"Are you, by chance, referring to anyone that I know?"
Elizabeth whipped around and came face to face with Georgiana Darcy. She stared at the young woman silently for a moment and then threw her arms around her.
"Georgiana! It is wonderful to see you."
Georgiana returned Elizabeth's embrace with equal warmth.
"I am so glad to see you. You can not imagine how much I have missed you."
"I have missed you, too." And I have missed your brother even more, thought Elizabeth , but she did not dare say it aloud.
"I hear that congratulations are in order. I understand that your sister Lydia has married Mr. Shelby. I have met him before and I believe him to be very kind."
Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, he does appear very kind and most devoted to my sister. He is a bit silly at times, but in that he and my youngest sister are well matched. "
"I would like to meet Mrs. Shelby someday. I believe that she and I have something in common." Georgiana colored slightly and kept her eyes fixed on the wood path in front of them.
Elizabeth looked closely at her friend; this was the closest that Georgiana had come to referring to her history with Mr. Wickham. Mr. Darcy must have told her about Lydia's escapade with Mr. Wickham; she wondered what else Mr. Darcy had told his sister.
"They have gone to Bath to visit with Mr. Shelby's family but they will return to London before too many weeks."
Elizabeth was aware that Mr. Shelby was a close friend of Colonel Fitzwilliam, but she did not feel comfortable raising the subject of the colonel with Georgiana, at present. She felt even less comfortable broaching the subject of Mr. Darcy, although she was longing for news of him.
"Further congratulations are in order. My sister, Jane, has recently become engaged to Mr. Bingley." Elizabeth glanced at her friend to see how she took this news and was relieved to see that Georgiana's face revealed unequivocal delight.
"Oh! I am very happy for both of them. Even Miss Bingley says that she is an angelic creature and I believe that Mr. Bingley deserves no less. I would dearly love to meet your eldest sister."
Elizabeth smiled at her friend. "She would love to meet you, as well. I have told her much about you. I am delighted myself at her engagement to Mr. Bingley. I believe they shall be excessively happy, I have never seen a couple more suited for each."
"Have you not?" asked Georgiana with a sly smile.
Elizabeth blushed slightly and turned her face away from Georgiana to hide her embarrassment.
"When did you arrive in Netherfield? Mr. Bingley did not say that he was expecting you; although he informed us this morning that his sisters and Mr. Hurst would soon be coming to Netherfield."
"I daresay that Mr. Bingley does not know that I am here. I had been staying with my governess in London, but found it rather dull, so I took advantage of Miss Bingley's invitation to join her and the Hursts for a visit to Netherfield. We only just arrived a few minutes ago. I walked out to stretch my legs after the carriage ride and had the pleasure of seeing you."
Elizabeth smiled. "Well, I am sure Mr. Bingley will be delighted to see you, although he could not be more delighted that I am." Elizabeth paused to pluck a blossom from a flowering tree and handed it to Georgiana. "This is one of my favorite flowers, it is so delicate, but it has a bold fragrance."
Georgiana sniffed the flower and smiled. Elizabeth tucked her arm under the younger woman's as they circled the gardens of Netherfield.
"I am surprised that Mr. Bingley's sisters have returned from Scotland so soon. It was rather a short stay for a such a long distance. "
"Yes, I gathered that Scotland was not to their liking." Georgiana lowered her voice, although there was no one around to overhear . "I also understand that Miss Bingley had heard of her brother's intentions to propose to your sister, and was intent on hurrying home to prevent it. She seemed to think my brother could stop him from proposing, but my brother was not in London when they arrived. She entreated me to come, however, thinking, perhaps, that my brother would soon follow me here. In any event , it seems we have come too late to prevent the engagement, and for that, I am glad.
"I hope that once they realize that they can no longer prevent the marriage, that Mr. Bingley's sisters will accept Jane as their new sister."
"I believe that they will. As I said earlier, Miss Bingley refers to your sister as an angel and both she and Mrs. Hurst talk about her with affection. I understand that it is not your sister that they object to, but her lack of wealth and the undesirability of her family connections." Then, as if suddenly realizing to whom she was speaking , Georgiana covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Elizabeth; I beg your forgiveness, I did not think..."
Elizabeth gave her friend's arm a reassuring squeeze. "Pray, do not apologize, I am quite familiar with their objections." Your brother has had no qualms of telling me of these same objections, she thought. Elizabeth could no longer suppress her desire and curiosity regarding Darcy. "And where is your brother? "
"I do not know precisely where he is, when last I heard he had to go suddenly to Matlock Hall, our uncle's estate. I must confess that I am rather vexed with him."
"You, vexed with Mr. Darcy! Why, I thought that he was the paragon of brothers. What could he have done to have fallen off his pedestal." Elizabeth spoke in a teasing manner, but her mind was preoccupied with news that he had gone to the colonel's family estate."
Georgiana sighed. "He has been most secretive about his private affairs, although perhaps, no more so than usual. I am simply aggrieved that he has abandoned me, once more, to the company of Mr. Bingley's sisters. Forgive me for speaking so plainly, but I am also vexed at him for failing to pursue his courtship of you, Elizabeth. I was so hoping to have you as a sister."
Elizabeth smiled at her friend.
"Never mind, my dear. We may not be sisters, but we can nonetheless enjoy a close friendship, and am sure you and Jane will become great friends, as well . My sister Jane and I are dining tomorrow at Netherfield, so you will have an opportunity to meet her then." Elizabeth spoke with a lightness of expression that belied her troubled heart.
That afternoon shortly after she and Jane returned home, Elizabeth was met by her father who came out of his study with a letter in his hand.
"Lizzy," said he, "I was going to look for you; come into my room."
She followed him there and her curiosity to know what he had to tell her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner connected with the letter he held. She followed her father to the fireplace and they both sat down.
"I have received news this morning that has astonished me exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its contents. I did not know before that I had two daughters on the brink of matrimony."
The color now rushed into Elizabeth's cheeks in the instantaneous conviction of its being a letter from Mr. Darcy. She could not tell which emotion was the stronger one, her relief that he had applied to her father for her hand, or her irritation at Mr. Darcy for broaching the subject of matrimony to her father before he had reached a firm understanding with her himself.
"It seems you have made a conquest of a very well connected gentlemen. I am sorry to say that based on the contents of this letter I cannot call this a felicitous conquest."
Elizabeth stilled. "I know you think him an unpleasant man, but, once you know him better , I believe you will find him perfectly amiable."
Mr. Bennet looked perplexed. "How can I think him unpleasant when I have never met the man. Indeed, it his reputation, not his temperament that concerns me."
"His reputation, sir?"
"Yes, My correspondent tells me that your betrothed has gotten involved in a duel with a man of a lower station, there is also talk that he did not conduct himself honorably during the duel. I understand that his family is threatening to cut off ties with him, and that his fitness to be an officer is being questioned."
Elizabeth was horrified by this news, but tried to keep her voice steady. "Am I correct that you are referring to Colonel Fitzwilliam?"
"Yes, Lizzy, how could have you accepted this man? He is the son of an earl to be sure, but his family have proved to be singularly disagreeable and proud. He is the first cousin of Mr. Darcy, you know, and the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
Without thinking, Elizabeth immediately jumped to the colonel's defense. "Colonel Fitzwilliam is not at all proud and his manners are generally remarkably agreeable."
"Well then, for that I must be thankful, but I do not like that you are engaged to a man who is reckless enough to engage in a duel, and dishonorable enough to fight someone who is beneath him in social position, and not to fight fairly, at that. Surely you must see how unwise it is to align yourself to a man of this sort."
In order to counteract her father's adverse impression of the colonel, Elizabeth confided in him that the person that he had engaged in the duel with was none other than Mr. Wickham, and that he had engaged in the duel in an attempt to protect Lydia's honor and reputation. "So, you must admit, sir, that although he did challenge a man from a lower station, Colonel Fitzwilliam had excellent reasons for doing so."
Mr. Bennet's expression turned sober and thoughtful. "He fought Wickham, did he? Well, I can hardly condemn him for doing something that I would done myself if I had had the opportunity and the courage. And I assume then, that Colonel Fitzwilliam is responsible for scarring Wickham so horribly that Lydia had no recourse but to elope with Mr. Shelby. We owe him a debt of gratitude, indeed. Perhaps, he is worthy of you after all, Lizzy. Although, I do wish that you had discussed this matter with me earlier."
"But Father, I am not engaged to him. Your information is inaccurate." For the sake of simplicity, Elizabeth decided against telling her father just how close she had come to being engaged to the colonel.
"Well then, there is only one little matter left to discuss." Mr. Bennet's manner had changed from one of gravity to one of levity as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "As it turns out, Lizzy, I have received not one but two letters today. This one is from Mr. Collins."
"From Mr. Collins! What can he have to say?"
'He begins with congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter . I shall not sport with your impatience by relating what he says on the subject. What relates to yourself is as follows. "Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let me add a short hint on the subject of another. Your daughter , Elizabeth, it is presumed will not long wear the name of Bennet after her sister had resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate, may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in this land."'
Mr. Bennet's face shone with glee. 'Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentlemen is? But now it comes out. "My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to believe that his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on this match with a friendly eye." 'Mr. Darcy you see is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I have surprised you. Could he have pitched on any man, within the circle of our acquaintance, , whose name would have given the lie more effectively to that which he related ? Mr. Darcy who never looked at a woman except to find a blemish, and who probably never looked at you in his life. It is admirable!'
Elizabeth tried to join in her father's pleasantry but could only force one reluctant smile. Never had her father's wit been directed in a manner so little agreeable to herself.
"Are you not diverted?"
Lizzy smiled half-heartedly at her father. "Oh yes. Pray read on."
'"After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it became apparent that on the score of family objections concerning Miss Elizabeth, she would never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match." Only imagine what Lady Catherine would have said if she had heard that you were romantically entangled with both of her nephews, she would have some cause for disdain, indeed! But, Lizzy, you do not look as if you enjoy it. You are not going to Missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted by these idle reports.'
"Oh!" cried Elizabeth, "I am excessively diverted. But it is so strange."
"Yes, that is what is makes it so amusing. The idea that you could be engaged to two different men is entertaining, in and of itself, but to have fixed you up with both of Lady Catherine's nephews, and one of them Mr. Darcy with his perfect indifference and your pointed dislike! It is so delightfully absurd."
Elizabeth nodded her head, and looked with longing at the door.
"I must say, entertaining as this all has been, I was worried for a moment that you might have gotten engaged to Colonel Fitzwilliam. As much as we are indebted to him, I am relieved to hear that you will not be marrying him. The preparations for Jane's wedding clothes and wedding breakfast are giving me amusement enough; I think I would suffer from a surfeit of pleasure if I had to hear about the lace on your gowns, as well, Lizzy."
To this comment, Elizabeth replied with a short laugh. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh when she rather would have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her, both by what he said of Mr. Darcy's indifference, and by his comment about her romantic entanglement with both Darcy and his cousin being cause for disdain. She was also feeling considerable discomfort over the news that the colonel was having difficulties with his family and the military as a result of the duel. Elizabeth made her escape from her father's study by claiming to hear her mother calling for her.
August 31, 1812
Elizabeth was in low spirits the following day as she and the rest of her family traveled by carriage to Netherfield . She was not looking forward to renewing her acquaintance with Miss Bingley and the Hursts, and she was especially not looking forward to her mother and younger sisters exposing themselves to Miss Bingley's derision. Her mother had two favorite subjects these days: her darling Lydia's recent marriage, and how fine a match her Jane had made. Mrs. Bennet spoke about these subjects at exhaustive length and with no small amount of indelicacy. Elizabeth dreaded seeing the predatory looks that Mr. Bingley's sisters would exchange when Mrs. Bennet spoke on these pet subjects. She was also worried that Mr. Bingley would make some allusion to her 'engagement' to Mr. Darcy.
Kitty was leaning out of the rather cramped carriage as it pulled up in front of Netherfield. "La, that man who stayed with Mr. Bingley before is here; that tall proud man."
Elizabeth felt her throat tighten with surprise and emotion. Mrs. Bennet joined Kitty in craning her neck out of the window.
"Good gracious, it is Mr. Darcy! I must say that I hate the very sight of him but we must be civil to him, I suppose, since he is a guest of Mr. Bingley's."
Mr. Bennet leaned over and winked at Elizabeth. "Speak of the devil, eh Lizzy? Perhaps, he has come to propose after all." Mr. Bennet leaned back and laughed heartily at his own joke.
Elizabeth was too preoccupied to respond with even a slight smile. Her first thought was that Mr. Darcy's feelings for her must still be unshaken. But she would not be secure until she had a chance to observe him and to speak with him.
When it was Elizabeth's turn to step down from the carriage, Mr. Darcy stepped forward to help her down. She ventured only one glance at Darcy; it was enough to learn that he looked as serious and expressionless as he usually did among those not in his close circle. He did not speak one word to her as they walked with the rest of the party to the house.
She had slept little the night before, due to concern over the news regarding Colonel Fitzwilliam . She was troubled both by worry for the colonel and guilt over the fact that he had engaged in the duel for her sake. Most of all, she was disturbed by the thought that Darcy had stayed away from her these past weeks because he blamed her and her family for his cousin's troubles and did not want to have anything more to do with her. Darcy's severe expression and his reticence lent credence to her fear that his wishes and affections had changed. She worried that an evening spent in her mother's presence would give him further incentive to distance himself from her.
When they were shown in to dinner, Elizabeth found herself sitting as far away as possible from Mr. Darcy. He was placed between Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, who had dropped her pretense of disinterest in him and now fawned over him more than ever. Although Elizabeth could not speak with Mr. Darcy, she was able to look at him. A number of times during the course of dinner, she found herself unable to resist raising her eyes to his face. He did not return her glance, however, and seemed mostly engaged in conversation with Miss Bingley. That lady seemed delighted to be monopolizing Mr. Darcy's attention and paid little attention to the rest of her guests.
Elizabeth was in no humor for conversation with anyone but Mr. Darcy. Luckily, she was sitting between Mr. Hurst and her father, neither who expected much in the way of interactive conversation. Mr. Hurst occupied himself with his dinner and on informing anyone who would listen about how much he had disliked the food in Scotland. Her father was content to regale Elizabeth with a stream of sardonic comments about Miss Bingley and the Hursts, spoken in a voice so low that only she could hear. Elizabeth merely had to smile and make a few remarks designed to indicate her enjoyment of her father's jests.
Suddenly, Mrs. Bennet spoke up in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone at the table. "It is a delightful thing to have a daughter well married, but it is very hard to have Lydia taken from me. Mr. Shelby has taken her to Bath to visit his brother's family and I believe they are to stay there through September. I almost wish she had married Mr. Wickham, he does not have relatives in Bath.
When the name Wickham was spoken, a general hush came over the entire room, punctuated by an odd choking sound coming from Miss Bingley's direction. Elizabeth and Jane exchanged looks of mortification, and then Elizabeth glanced quickly at Georgiana to see how she was taking it. Georgiana displayed remarkable composure; she calmly took a sip of wine as if nothing untoward had happened, and her hand shook only a little where it gripped the glass. Elizabeth finally glanced at the other end of the table and saw that Mr. Darcy wore a dismayed expression. She did not dare look at Mr. Darcy after that, but kept her eyes fixed on her lap for the remainder of dinner.
Mr. Bennet had observed the various responses that his wife's comments had received and decided it was best to leave directly after dinner. As soon as dinner was finished, therefore, Mr. Bennet announced that Mrs. Bennet and his daughters had wedding details to attend to, and they must leave immediately.
Although Elizabeth could not have been more anxious to leave, she was further mortified by her father's abrupt announcement. She murmured her thanks to Mr. and Miss Bingley and then went to say her goodbyes to Georgiana. As she was speaking to Georgiana, she heard the unmistakable voice of Mr. Darcy behind her.
"Miss Elizabeth."
Elizabeth turned slowly towards him. "Mr. Darcy."
"The weather is remarkably fine, Miss Elizabeth, are you still taking your morning walks?"
Elizabeth, overcome with confusion, replied that she was. Before the conversation could progress further, Mr. Darcy was claimed by Miss Bingley who practically dragged him to the other end of the room.
Elizabeth spent the rest of the evening meditating on Mr. Darcy's question. Was he trying to arrange a private meeting with her, or had he merely been making polite conversation? She could tell nothing from his manner. Elizabeth decided that she would go to Belfry Lane early in the morning, as she and Mr. Darcy had planned to do weeks ago.
Elizabeth slipped out of the house at first light the next morning. It was a fine morning, and despite her many anxieties the night before, her heart felt lighter. She decided to take the short cut up the hill that abutted Belfry lane. When she reached to top of the hill, she looked down and saw the tall figure of a man dismounting from his horse. She recognized him immediately and her heart skipped with hope. She started walking quickly down the hill. When she was halfway down the hill, Mr. Darcy glanced up at her, and smiled radiantly. Elizabeth started running; she barreled down the hill at an alarming speed until suddenly she tripped and fell. She found herself tumbling and rolling until she collided with a sturdy object.
The world spun around in a dizzy circle. Elizabeth closed her eyes until everything stopped spinning. When the world finally stood still again, Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked up, right into the fine eyes of Mr. Darcy. She realized that she was lying on the ground with her head in his lap.
"Are you injured?" he asked hoarsely.
"Not at all, except that I feel quite lightheaded." She smiled into Darcy's eyes and he gave her another radiant smile in return. Elizabeth was not sure whether her lightheaded condition was a result of her tumble or the feel of Mr. Darcy's thighs underneath her head.
"We seemed to have switched positions since we last met in London." Mr. Darcy said.
"Yes." Elizabeth paused for a moment. "Since that is the case, I hope you will not take it remiss if I ask you a question."
"You may ask me any question you like."
Elizabeth kept her eyes fixed on Darcy's. "Are you feelings and wishes with respect to me unchanged?"
"Yes. Well, no."
"No?" Elizabeth whispered with a mounting fear.
"My feelings of love for you have increased; my desire for a future with you is stronger than ever."
Elizabeth's heart started pounding. "Then I must ask you a second question."
She tried to sit up, but Mr. Darcy's strong arms kept her firmly in place. "You must not get up too soon. You can ask me your question from your present position."
"There are actually any number of questions I would like to ask, that I must ask you, about yourself and your cousin. But there is one that I must ask you before all the others."
She could feel Darcy's thighs tense slightly underneath her. Elizabeth gathered her courage and then looked back up into Darcy's eyes.
"Mr. Darcy will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"
Darcy's eyes widened and he drew in a sharp intake of breath. "Elizabeth!" he cried. "Are you certain?" He leaned down and peered at her closely. "Perhaps, you are more light headed than you realize."
Elizabeth sat up and gave Darcy an indignant look. "I suppose, to a man, it seems light headed for a woman to propose, but I assure you that I am in my right mind, sir, and quite certain. Now, will you be so good as to answer my question; I am not inclined to ask it again."
Darcy leapt to his feet and quickly pulled Elizabeth first to her feet and then into his arms.
"Yes, I will gladly become your husband, I only hope I do not have to wait too long before I can call myself by that title."
Elizabeth threw her arms around his neck and laughed for the joy of it all. Then Mr. Darcy, lifted her off her feet and spun her around until they both felt very lightheaded, indeed.
Chapter 25
September 23, 1812
London
The invitation to the wedding of Darcy and Elizabeth gave Richard Fitzwilliam no small amount of pain. He had no intention of attending, but he could not bring himself to throw the invitation in the fire. Although he kept the offending piece of paper hidden away in the back of his desk drawer, he could not resist looking at it every now and then. He held it in his hand and stared at it now, as he sat slumped in a chair in the larger of the two rooms that he had rented.
Someone knocked loudly on the door; Fitzwilliam initially ignored the noise, but when the pounding continued for several minutes, he got up reluctantly and opened the door. His landlady, red faced and sweating from the exertion of banging on the door, stood before him with a flustered look on her face. She announced that a gentleman named Mr. Edward Crandall was here to see him and that he did not look like he was going away until he got to speak with Mr. Fitzwilliam.
Fitzwilliam groaned. Crandall was his oldest friend, except for Darcy. Crandall, Darcy, and Fitz had spent most summers together when they were boys. Crandall lived in Dorsetshire and only came to town on rare occasions. Fitzwilliam had no desire to see anyone, particularly, someone who had such close associations in his mind with Darcy. He knew, however, that Crandall would be highly offended, if he refused to see him. Fitzwilliam did not feel, at this point in his life, that he could afford to give offense to anyone who still called him a friend.
"Send him up," announced Fitzwilliam, in the same commanding tone that he had used to give orders to men in his regiment.
A few moments later, Crandall was standing in Fitz's shabby front room. He looked Fitzwilliam over from head to toe and made a clucking noise with his tongue.
"I gather from your appearance that the rumors are true."
Fitz sat down heavily and covered his eyes with his hand to block out the sunlight. "What rumors would those be, Cranny?"
"That you have got yourself booted out of the militia and disowned by your family as a result of engaging in a scandalous duel. It is also common gossip that you have in a very short span of time turned into a wretched and dissipated creature."
"Those rumors are only half true. I will not deny the charges of dissipation, but I resigned my commission voluntarily and my father has, rather reluctantly I admit, decided against disowning me."
"If that is the case, why have you let yourself go to this extent. Look at yourself, man; you are red eyed and shaggy, and pale as a corpse, besides. And look at these rooms; they are disgraceful. If your father has not cut you off, I cannot imagine why you would choose to live here. You are above all of this."
Fitz shrugged. "I like it here. It suits my present mood."
"I know what you need, Fitz."
"I have no doubt but that you do."
Crandall ignored the sarcasm in his friend's voice. "What you require is a new profession to engage your time and give a direction to your plans and actions. You have never been one of those fellows who likes to be idle - fashionable as such a pastime is."
Fitz smiled wanly at his friend, "What do you suggest Cranny, that I try my hand at the law?"
Crandall snorted. "Lord knows what your family would say if you became a common barrister. Regardless, you are not studious enough for the law. No, I had a more genteel profession in mind."
Fitz raised an eyebrow. "You cannot be suggesting the church?"
Cranny leaned forward. "Ah, but I can and I am. As you know, I inherited a very good property in Dorsetshire. I am in position to offer you a living at -----, which is just now vacant. It is large rectory, and would provide you with a very comfortable income. It would be my pleasure to offer it to you, Fitz."
Fitz shook his head. "You must be joking; I am the last person in all of England who is suited for the church."
"I do not agree. You have always had sound principles, a natural ability to take command, and a lively disposition - all the qualities a good rector needs. Think about it Fitz, in your own small circle, you will have immense influence and the opportunity to do good."
Fitz shook his head. "It is no use going on about it. You are generous to offer it but I cannot accept it. I may have once had those qualities you speak of, but I no longer do." He waved his hand. "You can see for yourself the depths to which I have sunk. I do not rise before noon on a good day, and I am out all night getting intoxicated or worse."
"Well, as to that, there is many a clergy man who is more dissipated than you are. But, you will soon grow weary of the debauched life. I know you well enough to be certain of that. You have always had a careless streak but underneath, you are a true gentleman through and through. Think about it, Fitz, that is all I ask. The rectory comes with a handsome house and fair sized parcel of land. It would be perfect for a family once you set your sights on a particular young lady."
Fitzwilliam stood up abruptly. "I thank you for the offer; it is kind of you, but it is impossible. I may be on the road to ruin, but I am not a hypocrite. I have to get ready to go out, now. I have a pressing engagement. If you are in town for a few days, perhaps we can dine together on Tuesday."
Crandall stood up and looked at his friend in silence.
"Very well, Fitz, but, promise me you will give my offer serious consideration. I will give you a fortnight to decide, and then, if I do not hear from you I will have to offer the position to someone else. For the sake of the villagers, I cannot leave the position open for long. As for dinner on Tuesday, that is a splendid plan. I will meet you here at five. Perhaps, we can go to my club, if you clean yourself up a bit."
Crandall headed for the door; just, before he reached it, he turned and addressed Fitz.
"By the way, I was astonished to hear of Darcy's wedding, but delighted, of course. I thought Darcy would be the last of us to wed; he always seemed to find fault with all of the young ladies. I thought he was too fastidious for words. I assume that I will see you at the wedding? It is in some out of the way place in the country, but I would not miss it for the world. It is to be a double wedding, I hear, as Charles Bingley is to marry the sister of Darcy's betrothed."
Fitz nodded his head in a distracted fashion, and said nothing.
"I must say," Crandall continued, "I am exceedingly curious to meet Darcy's young lady. She must be quite extraordinary to win him and then to transform him into such a cheerful creature. His last letter to me was positively effusive regarding the most mundane subjects. I assume we can attribute all of this to his young lady. Have you met her Fitz?"
Fitzwilliam hesitated for a moment, when he spoke, his voice was slightly rough.
"I have met the lady, yes, but I cannot claim to know her character very well. You will have to judge for yourself whether she is extraordinary or not. As to attending the wedding, I am afraid that I have other plans."
Crandall started to protest that of course Fitz must attend Darcy's wedding, but seeing how worn out his friend looked, he decided to save his arguments for when they dined together on Tuesday. With one last compassionate look at Fitzwilliam and a warm farewell, Crandall departed.
Fitzwilliam signed in relief after Crandall. He ran his hand over his unshaven face and winced at how he must of appeared to his old friend. He thought of the irony of the difference between his situation and that of his cousin. While Elizabeth undoubtedly did have a beneficial affect on Darcy, his own life had been virtually ruined as a result of his acquaintance with her. Fitz could not say truthfully, however, that the fault was Elizabeth's, or even Darcy's. He was starting to realize that he had managed to ruin his life entirely on his own.
Fitzwilliam looked at his hands, which were trembling slightly. He stood up and looked about his dreary surroundings and then faced himself squarely in the mirror and grimaced.
By God, Cranny was right; he was above all of this! Maybe Cranny was right about the benefits of taking a new profession, as well. Fitz tried to picture himself behind a pulpit, and the idea of accepting the living slowly took a hold on his thoughts, until eventually it seemed not only possible, but the only sensible course to take.
October 1, 1812
Hertfordshire
Fitzwilliam Darcy sat at a desk in Bingley's library trying to concentrate on a letter from his steward. His mind, however, was focused on listening for the sound of footsteps. He was expecting Elizabeth and Georgiana to return at any moment from a visit to the shops in Meryton. He smiled to himself at the thought that he would soon see Elizabeth, and, if all went well, even get to snatch a few precious moments with her alone. He was so happy now that she had finally accepted him, or rather, he thought with a boyish grin, now, that he had accepted her. Even daily doses of Elizabeth's family did not diminish his joy. There was only one obstacle to his complete happiness and that was his growing concern over his cousin, Fitzwilliam.
Darcy had done all that was possible to protect Fitzwilliam from the small scandal that had erupted in the wake of his duel with Wickham. Within days of the duel, rumors had rapidly spread through London and beyond that the second son of the Earl of Matlock had gravely injured a soldier of a lesser rank for failing to pay a debt. The earl himself had been appalled that his son had been involved in such scandalous doings, and had repeatedly threatened to disown him until Darcy had traveled to Matlock to discuss the matter with his uncle. Darcy's task had not been easy since the earl took an extremely harsh view of what he termed "Richard's shameless antics." Still, Darcy did manage to convince the earl to grudgingly agree to abandon his plans of disinheritance by informing him that the duel was motivated by Wickham's history of cruelly seducing young gentlewomen - a history that Darcy conveyed without revealing the roles of either Georgiana or Lydia Bennet.
Darcy had also spoken to friends of his with high connections in the military to prevent a court martial investigation of the duel. What Darcy was unable to do, however, was protect Fitzwilliam against himself. He had received regular reports of Fitzwilliam through mutual friends during the past month, and all of these reports indicated that Fitz was well on the road to self-destruction.
Darcy's ruminations were interrupted by footsteps, but they were not the light footsteps of his beloved; rather, they were the slow, stately steps of one of Bingley's footmen. Darcy looked up at the approaching servant with an impatient frown on his face; he was irritated at the servant for committing the crime of not being Elizabeth. His annoyance soon changed to interest, however, when the footman handed him a letter. Darcy examined the address of the letter quickly, and was pleased to find that that the letter was from his good friend, Edward Crandall. Darcy tore the letter open and read the contents quickly.
The news the letter contained brought Darcy great satisfaction. His friend announced that he had offered the living in Dorsetshire to Fitzwilliam, as Darcy had suggested. Crandall was pleased to say, that after initially rejecting the offer, Fitz had finally decided to accept the offer of the living. Crandall had ended the letter by saying, 'Now that Fitz has resolved to accept the living, he looks more like himself already. He has lost that forlorn look, and is even taking pains with his appearance again. I am greatly relieved by his transformation; I have hopes that, by the time of your wedding, he will have rallied completely.'
Darcy was dashing off a quick reply to his friend, expressing his gratitude to him and his hopes of seeing him soon at his wedding, when he heard the quick footsteps that he had been listening for all morning. He immediately abandoned his letter and stood up in anticipation.
The door flew open, revealing, to Darcy's delight, Elizabeth and no one else. With an impish smile, Elizabeth reached behind her to shut the door. The moment the door was fully closed, Elizabeth was in Darcy's arms and he was kissing her with a hunger that was new to him. They had kissed on a numerous times in the weeks since their engagement, but never had Darcy kissed her with such abandonment. Elizabeth was completely dazzled; not just by the intensity of it, but also by the sense of joy that Darcy instilled in the kiss.
Several moments later, Darcy lifted his lips from Elizabeth's and announced, "I have good news, Lizzy."
Elizabeth smiled at Darcy, eager to know the reason for his exuberant mood. "Yes, my love?"
Hearing that particular endearment for the first time from Elizabeth's lips was too much for Darcy. He forgot all about his news and, repositioning his mouth on Elizabeth's, kissed her with renewed passion. Elizabeth responded with equal fervor until they both felt weak and breathless.
Finally, Elizabeth rested her flushed face against Darcy's shoulder. "I should like to hear your good news now, if I may."
Darcy nestled Elizabeth closer in his arms and kissed her temple. "I have received a letter today which eases my mind greatly and which I hope will give you equal reassurance. It seems that Fitzwilliam may be recovering his spirits, at last. He has accepted the living that my friend Crandall has offered him. He will be moving to Dorsetshire in a few weeks. I understand he will be very well situated there."
Elizabeth expressed her delight at the news by throwing her arms around Darcy's neck and kissing him on the cheek. "I cannot tell you how very glad I am to hear it. I know, although you will likely not admit it, that you are behind this plan to find a new profession for him. You are truly the best man that know."
Darcy responded to this compliment by bestowing small kisses on the corner of Elizabeth's lips. The resulting ticklish sensation made Lizzy laugh.
"The idea of your cousin becoming a clergyman is rather a strange one, but I imagine he will take to the situation very well. He does have amazing powers of persuasion. I can imagine that many young ladies will await his sermons most anxiously and happily do anything he bids them to do from his pulpit."
Darcy stepped back so that he was holding Elizabeth at arm's length. "Are you trying to make me jealous, Lizzy? I hope that you will not be persuaded to do my cousin's bidding if you ever have the occasion to hear him preach a sermon."
Elizabeth was relieved to see a teasing look in Darcy's eye. She smiled up at him.
"You need have no fear of that, sir. Your cousin may be persuasive, but he is nothing compared to you. I find that I am completely in your thrall. You could convince me to do your bidding without the need of a pulpit."
Darcy found that he liked that idea of Elizabeth being in his thrall, very well, particularly as he knew himself to be so thoroughly enthralled by her. He lowered his head and resumed his impassioned kisses, this time on her neck and shoulders, rather than her lips. She reciprocated by loosening Darcy's neck cloth and lightly stroking his neck with her fingertips. Darcy found these gentle caresses extremely pleasing. He was contemplating locking the library door, when the shrill sound of Miss Bingley's voice penetrated the silence.
Moments later, when Miss Bingley and Georgiana entered the library, Darcy and Elizabeth were sitting on opposite ends of the library couch. Darcy held a book of poetry by Mr. Wordsworth on his lap.
Elizabeth looked up at the two ladies and greeted them in a voice that was only slightly tremulous, while she hastily pushed some stray tendrils of hair back in their proper place.
Georgiana smiled at her brother and Elizabeth, apparently oblivious to their flustered appearance.
"Oh, you were reading the poems of Mr. Wordsworth to Elizabeth, how romantic!. Have you ever told Miss Bingley about the time that you he met Mr. Wordsworth in the Lakes District? It is a fascinating story."
Miss Bingley expressed a burning desire to hear the tale straight away. Thus, Darcy, much to his disgruntlement, was forced to spend the remainder of Elizabeth's visit to Netherfield regaling Miss Bingley with all of the minute details of his brief acquaintance with Mr. Wordsworth.
October 7, 1812
London
Five days before the date of Darcy's wedding, Fitzwilliam suddenly decided, against all of his earlier inclinations, to attend the event. He realized that the tumultuous chapter in his life that involved Elizabeth would never fully be closed until he had witnessed, with his own eyes, her wedding to his cousin.
He also felt that he owed it to Darcy to accept his invitation. Darcy had written Fitz not once but twice in the past few weeks stating that although he would understand if Fitzwilliam chose not to attend his wedding, but he would welcome him with great pleasure if he did attend. The fog that had enshrouded Fitz's mind for the past two months was starting to lift now that he had stopped patronizing Digby's establishment. As his sense started to return, Fitzwilliam could see more and more how little cause he had to remain angry with Darcy. Darcy had won Elizabeth away from him, to be sure, but there was no indication that Darcy had done anything underhanded in the process. He knew, as well, that Darcy had expended great effort in the aftermath of the duel with Wickham to ensure that that the ensuing scandal did not cause him undue harm legally or in relation to his family.
Fitzwilliam also had heard from a reliable source that Darcy had paid Wickham a rather handsome sum to permanently leave the country, thus, avoiding an escalation of the scandal and saving Fitzwilliam the trouble of future dealings with Wickham. Although these efforts on his behalf by Darcy had infuriated Fitzwilliam when he first heard about them, he now realized how much worse things would have been for him after the duel if Darcy had not come to his defense.
Once he had resolved to attend Darcy's wedding, Fitzwilliam felt a substantial weight lift from his mind. He knew that seeing Darcy and Elizabeth together would be painful, but he had hopes that seeing them thus would lessen the hold that Elizabeth still had on his imagination. He was tired of seeing Elizabeth's laughing face every time he closed his eyes. Fitz hoped that seeing Elizabeth again this time knowing that she now irrevocably belonged to another man, would cure him of his obsession with her.
He was equally tired of feeling hatred for Darcy. Fitzwilliam was not a man naturally given to resentment and to feel alienated against Darcy was particularly unnatural. For while he had been slightly envious of Darcy most of his life, Fitz had always trusted and admired Darcy above all others. He did not think that he could ever resume the degree of friendship that he had previously had with Darcy given Darcy's choice of bride, but Fitz hoped that his affections for Darcy would be at least partially restored. Thus, with the hopes of feeling more for Darcy and less for Elizabeth once he saw them again, Fitz made plans to attend their wedding.
Fitz wrote to Darcy and Georgiana informing him that he planned to arrive the afternoon before the ceremony and he looked forward to seeing them both. He also wrote to Shelby, whom he knew planned to travel to Hertfordshire straight from Bath for the double wedding of his new sisters.
Fitz received letters the following day from Darcy and Georgiana, both expressing great pleasure that he would be joining them in Hertfordshire. He also received an effusive letter from Charles Bingley urging him to stay at Netherfield for as long as he liked. Bingley's letter included an invitation to a formal ball that was to be held at Netherfield on the eve of the wedding. Fitz put down the invitation and groaned. The wedding itself was one thing: it would be a solemn and brief affair and he could leave quickly afterwards; a ball was another thing entirely. He was not sure if he could resist asking Elizabeth to dance, indeed, he would be expected to dance with her; but he knew that dancing with Elizabeth would likely be disastrous. His misgivings about attending the ball were so great, that he almost abandoned the idea of attending the wedding.
He paced around his small room and then poured himself a glass of brandy. He had vowed several weeks back never to touch laudanum or champagne again, but luckily, he had not made the same vow concerning brandy. He drank the brandy quickly. Moments after the brandy burned its way down his throat, Fitz felt his misgivings about the ball dissolve.
"It is no great matter after all," he thought. 'I will dance once with Elizabeth and each of her sisters and twice with Georgiana, and that will be that.' Fitzwilliam then recollected that Miss Bingley would be there and that she was well aware that he had been competing with Darcy for Elizabeth's affections. He knew that courtesy would require him to dance with Miss Bingley and that she was not likely to remain silent on the subject of Elizabeth. Fitzwilliam poured himself a second glass of brandy and downed it even quicker than the first glass.