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Prologue
The cool, summer night with its gentle breeze and cloudless sky was still and silent except for the rhythmic pounding of the horses' hooves on the empty road. The carriage made its way along the country road with a steady pace. The monotony of the ride was counteracted by the beauty of the night. Poets wait for such nights to write melancholy poems on love and heartbreak. It was a night of dreams, an enchanting night filled with the promise of something even better on the morrow.
But all this beauty and serenity was lost on the lone passenger of the carriage, a solitary young woman. She looked out the window, but did not see. Her mind was engaged and her spirit obviously broken. The sadness in her eyes could not be mistaken and yet, a casual observer would be baffled by the small smile playing on her lips. Her dark, curly hair was loose, undisciplined, and wild. Her simple muslin gown was of a color dark enough to contrast her creamy white skin, but bright enough not to be considered dull. In fact, every aspect of Elizabeth Bennet Wickham spoke of contradictions, which could not help but intrigue.
Elizabeth was aware of the acute impropriety of her condition. A married woman riding in a carriage, unaccompanied and at night? It was unheard of and would have bothered anyone except her. Elizabeth had been called a "free spirit" by those who knew her intimately. And that title fir her perfectly. She was indeed a free spirit who openly defied convention and rules of the society to follow her own heart. She was not, by nature, a rebellious person, but as she grew up in a time when women were not allowed to express or assert themselves, she increasingly saw the injustice of the situation and sought to fight against it. And so, Elizabeth did not consider her present condition disgraceful or scandalous. She believed in her "right" to make her own decisions as a mature adult.
However, some decisions can be fatal.
Elizabeth was engrossed in the contemplation of the events of the previous week. How a simple letter had changed her life? She could never forget the shock and subsequent upheaval of her life following its arrival. One letter should not be allowed to change a person's life as it had done hers, but it had. Elizabeth had, however, been through many tough situations in her life and had the courage to face this one. Unlike many ladies of her time, she rose to the occasion and handled her affairs better than most.
"But I miss him so much...," she whispered softly.
Even as she said those words, the carriage jolted and came to a screeching stop. Elizabeth was startled and knew that something was terribly wrong. She said in a loud voice,
"What is the matter?"
The driver responded with one word. "Highwaymen."
It was then that Elizabeth realized that she had made a fatal error travelling like she was. She had been over confident, too sure of her ability to take care of herself. But now, she was in grave danger and no one knew where she was. No one.
Elizabeth looked out of the window and saw that a gang of 5 highwaymen on horses had surrounded the carriage. She heard the quick steps of the driver escaping into the woods and shook her head in disgust. So much for her trusted protector. She would have to handle this herself. Elizabeth calmly stepped out of the carriage and looked at the highwaymen.
"If you are after valuables in this carriage, I'm afraid I must disappoint, you gentlemen," said Elizabeth amiably. "I have nothing of value."
The man on the horse nearest to her, probably the leader, laughed. "You expect us to believe that! We hear them excuses everyday."
Elizabeth felt a chill run down her spine. But she maintained an outward calm. "Well, you can satisfy yourselves if you want, but you will find that I have spoken the truth."
She looked at the leader who regarded her for a moment before turning to the men on his left and saying. "Tie her up before she screams."
And then, to Elizabeth's horror, three men got down from their horses and grabbed hold of her. She struggled and tried to fight them, but of no avail. One of them gagged and tied her while the other two held onto her arms. The leader, meanwhile, started towards the luggage secured in the carriage. Elizabeth was forced onto the ground, where she still struggled and tried to free herself.
The leader came upon her and said, "You are a feisty one, ha?! Now be still or it will cost you your life." Those words were said with a smile, but the underlying menacing tone could not be mistaken and Elizabeth stopped moving immediately.
"That's better," said the leader agreeably and returned to the carriage.
Just at that moment, another carriage was heard approaching. It came upon them within seconds and stopped. Elizabeth kicked and groaned to alert the newcomers of her situation. Apparently it worked because the door opened and a finely dressed man emerged. He saw Elizabeth on the floor, looked at the highwaymen and said,
"Let the lady go and leave at once."
The leader smirked. "Or?"
"You will regret it," said the stranger.
The leader looked at his gang and laughed. "The odds are against you. Five to one."
The stranger stole a look at his driver, who nodded and joined his master. "Five to two," said the stranger. "And I am prepared to take my chances."
"Have it your way," said the leader and signaled his gang to attack.
The next moment, fierce fighting began. Elizabeth could do nothing but lie there and watch. In the beginning she was frightened for the strangers, who were outnumbered. But they were skillful with the sword and proved to be enough. Within minutes, they had outmaneuvered the highwaymen, who saw that defeat was imminent and fled.
The stranger, then, came to Elizabeth and untied her.
She looked at him and murmured. "Thank you."
"Not at all, madam," he said. "I am glad to have been of some assistance. Are you hurt?"
"No," said Elizabeth. "You came just in time and I am grateful."
The stranger bowed, then looked at her carriage. "Where is your driver?"
"He fled," Elizabeth said with a little smile.
"And you are traveling...all by yourself?" he asked with a frown.
"Yes," Elizabeth said with challenge in her eyes. "Do you object?"
"Well...it is hardly the most proper thing to do," the stranger said.
"I do not care," said Elizabeth defiantly.
"I can see that," the stranger said, disapprovingly. "But what if I hadn't been on time? What would you have done?"
"I dare say I would have thought of something," said Elizabeth definitely.
The stranger raised his eyebrows. Then, deciding to pursue it no further, he said. "What is your destination, if I may inquire?"
"Hertfordshire," said Elizabeth.
The stranger looked at her in surprise. "That is strange. That is where I am headed." He paused thoughtfully. "Would you consider traveling with me for the rest of the journey?"
Elizabeth looked at him. "How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't," said the stranger. "It is your choice."
Elizabeth knew that she didn't have many choices. Her driver had fled and she couldn't ride the carriage all alone. And the highwaymen might return. No, she would have to trust this stranger who appeared to be a gentleman. He had just saved her life, after all.
"I accept," she said finally.
The stranger nodded and instructed the driver to transfer her luggage to their carriage. He, then, offered his hand to Elizabeth and led her to the carriage. She stepped inside and soon after, they were on their way. Elizabeth and the stranger sat on opposite seats, eyeing each other carefully in silence.
"You understand, of course," Elizabeth broke the silence. "that this is highly improper."
The stranger smiled. "I was under the impression that you did not care much for propriety."
Elizabeth smiled, too. "Yes, but this is different. I am a married woman."
The stranger's smile vanished and he said. "I can assure you, madam, that you are perfectly safe here."
Elizabeth nodded. "I trust you."
She said no more. They sat there in silence, not venturing any questions. Each accepted the presence of the other, but did not acknowledge it. Elizabeth, who was tried, fell asleep. And the stranger could do nothing but observe her and wonder.
Four hours later, the stopping of the carriage awoke Elizabeth. She opened her eyes and found the stranger regarding her with interest.
"What is it?" she asked.
"We are in Hertfordshire," he said hastily. "The carriage awaits your directions."
Elizabeth thought quickly. She did not want the stranger driving her to her home. It would not by without comment. She could think of only one thing. "The Crown Inn, in _____. I would be grateful if you took me there. I can go home easily from that point."
The stranger looked at her and she thought he would resist. But he simply said. "As you wish, madam."
He gave the necessary directions to the driver and the carriage started moving again. Elizabeth could not go back to sleep. She sat in uncomfortable silence, then suddenly the stranger said. "You said that you were married. Where is your husband, then?"
A cloud came over her face. She said stiffly, "I'd rather not discuss that."
"Of course," And he said no more.
An hour later, the carriage stopped at Crown Inn. Elizabeth got down and her trunk was unloaded. The stranger started to come out as well, but Elizabeth said, "Do not bother, please."
He sat down again.
"Good bye...and thank you." Said Elizabeth, then rapidly disappeared into the Inn.
"Good bye...." The stranger whispered. And he thought: I do not even know her name.
Elizabeth watched the carriage drive away and thought: I do not even know his name. She sighed, then started to make preparations for going home, trying not to think of the stranger who had saved her life and who she'd probably never see again.
Chapter 1
The carriage came to a screeching halt and the driver said. "Longbourn, miss."
Elizabeth did not move. Now that she was home, she did not have the courage to face her family. They were not expecting her. What would they say? They were not aware of her situation. What would their reaction be? Elizabeth was ready to bear all the censure and the gossip as long as her loved ones did not think ill of her. But she feared that this time, she might have gone too far.
"We are here, miss," the driver repeated. "Shall I take your trunks down?"
"Yes, please," said Elizabeth. There was some activity within the house. Elizabeth knew that the time had come. She exited the carriage and headed for the door. Before she reached it, a figure appeared.
"Who is it?"
"Papa, it is I," said Elizabeth slowly.
Mr. Bennet opened the door and squinted to see the visitor. The early morning light shed rays of beautiful sunshine on Elizabeth's form. Mr. Bennet exclaimed. "Lizzy!" He was truly surprised to see his favorite daughter and engaged her in a warm embrace.
Elizabeth closed her eyes to hide her tears. "I missed you, papa."
"As did I, my dear," Mr. Bennet released her. "Come in, child."
As Elizabeth entered, she smiled with wonder. Nothing had changed. Longbourn was still the same, dear old house. It would always be dear to her because it was a house full of memories; it was her home.
"Lizzy...you have come alone?" Mr. Bennet inquired, seeing no one with her.
"Yes papa," Elizabeth lowered her eyes.
Mr. Bennet said nothing, but Elizabeth could see that he was displeased. Her father had always nurtured her "free spirit" but sometimes even he could not support her. Elizabeth saw that this was one of those times.
"I am sorry, papa. I should not have done it."
Mr. Bennet said. "What if something had happened to you, Lizzy?"
Elizabeth knew that she could never tell him of the highwaymen incident. There was no point in causing him any more distress. So, she wisely said nothing, just conveyed through her eyes that she was, indeed, very sorry. By this time, the rest of the household came down, curious to see the new arrival. They were in for a surprise.
"Lizzy!!" Jane was the first to greet her sister. She ran to meet her and hugged her tightly. "It is such a pleasant surprise to see you here."
Elizabeth was also very glad to see Jane. Her favorite sister had not changed at all in the last year, Elizabeth was pleased to note. She was the same Jane with her angelic smile and sweet disposition. Elizabeth had missed her the most. She had missed her intimate, shared conversations with Jane.
"Is that Lizzy?" Mrs. Bennet descended the stairs.
"Yes, mama," Elizabeth smiled.
"Why, child, it is you," Mrs. Bennet said. "What are you doing here?"
"Mama!" Jane was shocked at her mother's uninviting tone. "This is her home."
"A woman's home is with her husband, Jane, not with her parents," said Mrs. Bennet.
Elizabeth turned to her father. "Papa...is it possible that I might stay here until I can find a more suitable accommodation. I had nowhere else to go..."
Mr. Bennet looked at his daughter with a pained expression. "Of course you can, my dear." He exchanged glances with Mrs. Bennet. "This will always be your home."
"Thank you, papa..." Elizabeth could feel tears well in her eyes.
"Go on, then...," Mr. Bennet brushed his eyes. "You must be tired. Mrs. Bennet...," he addressed his wife. "Please see that her room is opened."
Mrs. Bennet dare not resist. So, she shouted. "Hill, oh Hill! Come down here!"
Elizabeth sat on the bed in her old room and wondered why she was there. She had always prided herself on her independence, and yet she was sitting in her parents' house. The answer was simple, and Elizabeth knew it. She had nowhere else to go. As painful as that was, it was true. She had no money, no prospects, nothing to look forward to. Not for the first time since she had received the letter, Elizabeth wondered whether she had made the most dreadful mistake of her life by following her heart as she had done.
It was time for breakfast, but Elizabeth did not have the courage to face her family again. Her father had spared her before, but he would, no doubt, inquire as to her situation. How could she bear to tell them the truth? But she could not lie, either. She was miserable.
A knock on the door brought Elizabeth's thoughts back to the present.
"Come in," she said.
It was Jane. "I hope I am not intruding, Lizzy..."
"No, Jane, of course not," Elizabeth tried to smile.
"Will you not come down for breakfast?" asked Jane.
"Yes, I will." Elizabeth marveled at the sensitivity of her sister. Jane understood that she did not want to discuss anything at that moment. So, she did not press her to. If only everyone else was just as understanding.
Elizabeth went downstairs, hand-in-hand with Jane. Jane smiled at her, reassuringly. Elizabeth was grateful. The rest of the family was already on the breakfast table.
"Oh, there you are, Lizzy," said Mr. Bennet. "You must be hungry."
"A little," admitted Elizabeth. She had not eaten in the last 24 hours. She sat on her usual spot, to her father's right. It felt a little strange occupying the same seat as she had before. It was like nothing had changed.
Lydia barely acknowledged Elizabeth's presence. She continued talking to Kitty.
"...and I dare say we will dance every dance!" Lydia exclaimed.
"Is there to be an assembly?" asked Elizabeth.
"Aye, Lizzy!" cried Mrs. Bennet. "It is in Meryton. We are all thrilled. Bye and bye, you do not know! Netherfield Park has been let to a single man of great fortune from the north of England. And he is to come to the ball tonight!"
Elizabeth smiled. Her mother had not changed either.
"What is his name?" she inquired.
"Bingley!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet.
"Lizzy, you must come with us...," said Jane, smiling.
"Maybe I will," Elizabeth smiled in return.
"Aye Lizzy!" cried Lydia. "And you can dance too...now that you are practically a widow!!"
"Lydia!" Jane admonished her sister, but the damage had been done.
Elizabeth excused herself and ran to her room, crying. Jane followed her.
"Lizzy...I am sorry. But you know how Lydia is. She did not mean anything by it," said Jane, soothingly.
"I am not a widow!" Elizabeth sniffed.
Jane said, "Of course not, Lizzy."
Slowly, Elizabeth stopped crying and said. "I am sorry, Jane. I behaved foolishly."
"Not at all," smiled Jane. "It was very natural for you to react the way you did. Do not be sorry." She paused, then continued, "Now, Lizzy...let us see what you will wear tonight."
Elizabeth smiled. Jane was such a dear. No wonder she loved her so much.
The Meryton Assembly was, on no account, a grand affair. However, it was not shabby either. The Bennet family entered the assembly and was instantly the topic of discussion among all the old ladies present. The reason for that was simple...Elizabeth Bennet Wickham. The rumors were that her husband had left her which was why she was here alone. Still others claimed that her husband had been killed and she was left penniless. At any rate, wherever Elizabeth went, malicious whispers followed.
Elizabeth ignored all the gossip, not bothering to set them right. She found it beneath her even to consider what was being said about her. It takes a courageous and self-assured person to ignore the assumptions of the world and Elizabeth was just that. However, it did hurt her to see how little the inhabitants of her former home respected her. Elizabeth found a comfortable seat to sit by herself and would not have stirred had it not been for her mother's insistent voice.
"Jane! Lizzy! Come here girls!"
Elizabeth quelled the urge to run away from the place and went to her mother. Apparently, the rich young men were here. Elizabeth had not the slightest interest in them, so she only half-listened to her mother, staring straight ahead, her mind miles away.
Then, an old neighbor Sir William Lucas came to introduce them.
"Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bingley has expressed a desire to be acquainted with you and your daughters."
Mrs. Bennet smiled graciously. "This is Jane, my eldest; Mrs. Elizabeth Wickham, my second. And...Mary sits over there. And Kitty and Lydia, my two youngest are dancing."
Mr. Bingley bowed and said. "This is my friend, Mr. Darcy."
As Bingley introduced his friend, it was all that Elizabeth could do to repress her surprise for she found that she was looking, once again, into the face of the stranger who had occupied her thoughts ever since the incident several hours ago.
Chapter 2
Mrs. Bennet had enough powers of observation to notice that Mr. Bingley was quite enamored by "dear" Jane, so she said,
"Do you like to dance, sir?"
"There is nothing in the world I like better!" Bingley hesitated. "Miss Bennet, if you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honor of dancing the next with me?"
"I am not engaged, sir," blushed Jane, lowering her eyes under Bingley's gaze.
Bingley grinned and bowed. Mrs. Bennet turned her attention towards Bingley's rich friend. "And you, sir?"
"Thank you, madam, but I rarely dance," said Darcy, stiffly, looking at Elizabeth. Her eyes conveyed to him that she did not want the circumstances of their previous acquaintance discovered. He tried to focus his attention back at the speaking mother.
"But let this be one of the occasions," said Mrs. Bennet. "For I wager you will not find more lively music or more pretty partners." The last part was said with a glance at Kitty and Lydia, dancing.
Darcy simply bowed and walked away. Bingley was apparently surprised at his friend's ill manner and excused himself. Mrs. Bennet was outraged.
"Well! I have not seen a more disagreeable man!" she said in a vexed tone. "He would have done very well for Kitty or Lydia... but who wants such a proud man! And Mr. Bingley disposed to be so kind and charming!"
Her effusions continued, but neither Jane nor Elizabeth heard her. While Jane was occupied in thinking of Mr. Bingley's beautiful smile and attention towards herself, Elizabeth was wondering on how to talk alone with the stranger...Mr. Darcy. There was no limit to her surprise. Elizabeth had resigned herself to never seeing him again, and here he was, not more than 20 feet away from her. But his manner had changed greatly. He was no longer the kind, attentive, gentle man who had rescued her. Elizabeth had noted a visible clouding of his features as he had been introduced to them. She wondered as to the cause of that. She had been sorry to see him go, but was thankful that he had not mentioned the 'highwaymen' episode.
Elizabeth found herself a chair to sit as she watched Bingley lead Jane to dance. She sighed. She was a married woman now. Her dancing days were over and Elizabeth rejoiced in it. She had never been particularly fond of dancing and did not wish to unless she stood opposite her husband. Her husband. Elizabeth knew not where he was at that moment, but in her heart she still held a little hope that one day, he would come back to her.
"Mrs. Wickham?" a familiar voice interrupted her reverie and Elizabeth looked up to see Darcy. His voice had shook as he said her name as if he had great difficulty in pronouncing it. His eyes sought confirmation that it was, indeed her name. Elizabeth was exceedingly puzzled by his manner. She nodded in response and said,
"Mr. Darcy, I had not thought I would ever see you again..."
Darcy said nothing; indeed, he did not appear to have heard her. However, Elizabeth continued, "I did not have the opportunity to thank you properly at that time. You undoubtedly thought me ungrateful. But I truly appreciate what you did for me and shall never forget it."
Darcy spoke more out of necessity than choice. "It was my duty, Mrs.....Wickham." He choked the last words out and Elizabeth looked at him strangely.
"Are you quite well, Mr. Darcy?" she inquired, concerned.
"I am well," Darcy assured her. Then, suddenly, he said, "Excuse me." He bowed, regarded her for a second and disappeared. Elizabeth could only stare after him and wonder. She was perceptive enough to know that Darcy was bothered by something. But she was at a loss to know what.
Elizabeth spotted her best friend, Charlotte Lucas in a distance and walked to her.
"Charlotte!!"
"Lizzy! I am so glad to see you." And so she was. Charlotte Lucas was, perhaps, next to Jane, one of Elizabeth's closest friends and confidants. They grew up within miles of each other and had formed a steady friendship based on mutual affection, sense and understanding. However, Elizabeth had not seen Charlotte for the past year and had sorely missed her company.
"I missed you, Charlotte," Elizabeth said to her friend.
Charlotte smiled, "So did I, but I am sure you had better things to do than think about your old friend." This was said with a slightly teasing, jesting tone, meant to be laughed at; but Elizabeth's face clouded.
"I have been negligent..."
"Oh, Lizzy! I was only teasing!" Charlotte made light of the matter. "Do not imagine that I would demand that you pay attention to me in your first year of marriage. I would never reproach you on that account. Tell me...how have you been?"
Elizabeth looked at her friend, in earnest. "I have been fine." This was far from the truth, but Elizabeth was not accustomed to sharing her problems with others.
Charlotte, however, knew a great deal of Elizabeth's troubles, but did not speak of them. She accepted Elizabeth's answer with a smile and said, "Well...we have been very dull without you, Lizzy. Nothing of consequence happened here...except for the new arrivals, of which, I am sure, you are aware."
"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. She saw that Bingley was still engaged with Jane. His sisters, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were standing in the corner, looking down on the present company. Elizabeth found herself searching for Mr. Darcy and at last, she saw him. He was standing, by himself, in a corner, looking distant and cold. She caught his eye. He looked at her for a moment, then looked away. Elizabeth was mystified.
"Lizzy? What is it?" Charlotte followed her line of vision.
"Nothing, Charlotte," Elizabeth recollected herself. Then, more amiably, "Tell me how Maria and the others are coming along?" She engaged Charlotte in easy conversation, but her mind was wandering on Darcy. What had she done to displease him, thus? Why did she even care?
Later, Elizabeth was obliged to sit down to observe the dance. She was quite happy with her situation. She saw that Bingley was dancing with Jane, yet again and was pleased for her sister. Jane seemed to be enjoying herself, though she was careful not to let the extent of her enjoyment show. For chief of the time, Elizabeth noticed that Darcy was standing close to her, but did not venture any conversation. Then, Bingley came from the dance to talk to Darcy.
"Darcy, I must have you dance, I must," said Bingley. "I hate to see you stand in this stupid manner."
"Bingley, your sisters are engaged and it would be a punishment for me to stand up with any other woman in the room."
"Darcy, I wouldn't be so fastidious, for a kingdom!!" Bingley exclaimed warmly. "I have not seen so many handsome women in my life! Some of them are uncommonly pretty."
"You have been dancing with the only pretty girl in the room," said Darcy, with a glance at Jane.
"Oh, she is an angel, but look," said Bingley. "There is one of her sisters sitting down and she is very pretty, too."
Elizabeth moved uncomfortably in her chair as she pretended not to notice that she was an object of scrutiny. Darcy looked at her for a second and said,
"She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me. And Bingley, I am in no humor to give consequence to married, old women who have been slighted by other men. I suggest that you go back to your partner and enjoy her smiles for you are wasting your time with me."
Bingley took his friend's advice and left him alone. Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and was astonished to see her smiling. She got up from the chair, moved purposefully close to him and went to her friend, Charlotte. Seconds later, the friends burst out laughing. Darcy could only suppose that he was an object for their mirth, and he was highly discomfited.
That night, as Elizabeth sat on her bed, she was plagued with the thoughts of Darcy and his words. She would not have danced with him if he had asked her, she was sure. She was married and was not in quest of rich men. But Elizabeth had hoped to start a friendship with the stranger who had helped her. Maybe she had misjudged him then. He had done only what duty had dictated. But he was not amiable. Rather, Elizabeth decided that he was a proud, disagreeable man and she would not wish to be better acquainted with him.
There was a knock on the door and Jane came in.
"Lizzy...I hope I am not disturbing."
"No, not at all," Elizabeth smiled.
Jane sat down next to her. "So did you have a pleasant evening?"
"Quite," Elizabeth lied. Then, she smiled teasingly. "I am sure you did."
Jane blushed. "Yes, Mr. Bingley is such a gentleman. He was just what a young man ought to be, Lizzy...sensible, good humored, lively...and I never saw such happy manners!"
"He is handsome too," Elizabeth smiled. "which a young man ought to be if he possibly can!" She paused. "If only he could be happier in his choice of sisters and friends, though sisters, I suppose, he cannot help."
"Did you not like them?" asked Jane, surprised.
"No, not at all!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Their manner is quite different from their brother's."
"Perhaps at first," said Jane. "But they are charming women once you get to know them. I am sure they will be very good neighbors."
"One of them perhaps," Elizabeth said with a teasing smile.
"No, Lizzy, you are wrong!" Jane blushed.
Elizabeth smiled, then was quiet. At length, she said, "Jane, there is something I wish to tell you."
"Yes?" Jane was puzzled at her sister's serious tone.
"I, ah...," Elizabeth started. "I have been contemplating this for sometime, but now I am certain. I am applying for the position of a governess."
"Lizzy!!" Jane was shocked. "Surely, there is no occasion for that."
"No, Jane, you do not see," said Elizabeth. "I am in a wretched state. I cannot bear to impose on papa much longer. As soon as I get a suitable position, I will be gone."
"But Lizzy, why?" Jane asked. "You do not need to do this."
"You have no inkling of what I am about, Jane," Elizabeth smiled sadly.
"What do you mean?" Jane inquired.
Elizabeth shook her head, reached for her table and handed Jane the letter.
"Read it," said Elizabeth. "And you will know."
Chapter 3
Jane glanced at Elizabeth quizzically, then opened the letter and pursued it, not offering any guesses as to its contents, prepared to be surprised. The letter read as follows:
'Mrs. Elizabeth Wickham,Do not think me presumptuous, madam, in thus soliciting your attention for I would not venture to write to you were it not essential. I am afraid that this letter will bring no happy tidings for which I am sorry. However, it is of utmost importance that this news be communicated to you and I have the misfortune of being the one chosen to do so. It is, therefore, with grave commiseration and solicitude that I inform you of your husband, Mr. George Wickham's whereabouts and circumstances
Mr. Wickham was last seen at Ramsgate in the company of his old friends. He was contacted there by my employees regarding his debts. Mr. Wickham, as you no doubt are aware, has accumulated gaming debts amounting to a considerable sum. When approached, he confessed that his present finances did not allow him to repay his obligations, but he promised that his new ventures in Ramsgate would furnish him of the required money to honor his commitments. We have heard similar promises from him many a time before and were, therefore, wary of believing him. However, he convinced us of his sincerity and we agreed to give him more time.
But, Mr. Wickham left Ramsgate rather mysteriously shortly after and could not be traced. His common acquaintances were not aware of his whereabouts and we have been unable to locate him since. Our sources inform us that he has abdicated from the country and is now in some remote part of the continent. At any rate, the money was not recovered. So, it is, with deepest sense of compassion that I notify you that your current residence and all its contents will be repossessed and auctioned to raise the money and pay the debts. If you hear from your husband, or indeed get any word to him, it would be kind of you to acquaint him with these proceedings so that he may take the necessary steps in paying back his debts.
Accept my humblest condolences for this situation, and believe that I remain, faithfully, your friend,
Philip Grey.'.
As Jane read the letter, Elizabeth noted her change of countenance from that of distrust to keen disbelief. When she was done, Jane looked at Elizabeth, stunned, appalled.
"But this cannot be true, Lizzy?!" Jane was shocked. "It is too terrible...Mr. Wickham would never leave you in such a condition."
Elizabeth lowered her head and said. "It is true, Jane. My house and every other possession have been sold off by now...I barely had enough money to hire a coach to Longbourn. The situation is hopeless."
"But Lizzy!!" exclaimed Jane. "Did you have any idea about those debts....gaming debts! I cannot believe it. There must be some mistake."
"I wish it was a mistake," said Elizabeth, pathetically. "But I am afraid there is little doubt that George did, indeed, incur those debts."
"Have you spoken to him about this?" inquired Jane, still unable to reconcile with the idea that her sister was homeless and penniless.
"I do not know where he is, Jane," Elizabeth said. "I have attempted to contact him on many occasions, but failed. He left on business about two months ago...to Ramsgate, I suppose, and I have not seen him since. He has left."
A few tears rolled down Elizabeth's eyes and Jane held her.
"It is possible, Lizzy that he does not know of your condition," ventured Jane. "I cannot believe him capable of abandoning you like this."
"I do not know what to believe, Jane," said Elizabeth, miserably. "If, indeed, he is innocent, as you say, why hasn't he contacted me all this time?"
"Maybe he is prevented from doing so by something beyond our comprehension," suggested Jane. "We are not aware of all the facts."
Even in her misery, Elizabeth smiled. "Dear Jane...you always see the good in every situation."
"But consider the alternative, Lizzy," reminded Jane. "If there is no blunder, that would put Mr. Wickham in a very bad light indeed and I cannot believe him capable of it. No, I am certain that there has been some misunderstanding and that this will all be happily resolved ere long. You shall see...we will laugh about it sometime."
Elizabeth hugged Jane. "Oh, Jane! You make so light of the matter that it almost convinces me that the situation is not so hopeless!"
"Indeed it isn't," said Jane. "And meanwhile, what is all this nonsense about you being a governess."
Elizabeth met Jane's questioning eyes. "You must see that I cannot continue living here like before, as if nothing had changed."
"And why not?" asked Jane. "This is your home, too, Lizzy. You have as much right to it as anyone else. Till we hear from Mr. Wickham and everything is sorted, you have to stay here."
"No, Jane, that would not be right," said Elizabeth.
"Papa will insist on it, Lizzy, be assured of that," said Jane. "I do not suppose he will allow you to go away."
Elizabeth looked at Jane, in earnest. "But, Jane..."
"No, Lizzy," said Jane firmly. "It will not do. Think of it this way...this will be your vacation and if matters are not resolved in a reasonable time, you may do as you please."
Elizabeth sighed. Jane was usually very placid and serene, but when she resolved on some matter, she could be very persistent and persuasive. There was no use arguing with Jane after her mind was made up. Elizabeth knew when she had lost the battle.
"Alright...I will stay...but not forever."
Jane smiled, satisfied. She kissed Elizabeth goodnight and left her shortly after. Elizabeth got into bed, but could not sleep. In spite of what Jane said, Elizabeth knew instinctively that her husband had, indeed, abandoned her in a horrible situation. She had yet to reconcile herself to that. But she was strong and would not let the world see how much that discovery had hurt her.
Meanwhile, at Netherfield, the assembled party had quite different impressions of the Meryton Assembly. Bingley was talking of it in the most amiable terms. He had had a grand time and was certain that he would enjoy the society. The others were less eager to approve of it, especially Bingley's sisters.
"The society here is absolutely dreadful, wouldn't you say Louisa?" sniggered Miss Caroline Bingley.
"Quite," agreed Louisa Hurst.
"Won't you agree, Mr. Darcy?" asked Caroline, watching Darcy stir the fire. Not giving him time to reply, she continued. "So, none of the Hertfordshire ladies pleased you, Mr. Darcy? Not even the famous Miss Bennets?"
Darcy ignored her. But Bingley objected. "I thought they were very charming."
"The eldest Miss Bennet was quite pretty, I grant you," said Darcy, absent-mindedly.
"That's a fine concession!" laughed Bingley. "Come man, admit it, she's an angel!"
"She smiles too much," said Darcy.
"Well, Jane is a dear sweet girl," said Caroline. "But the mother! And the sisters! I heard Mrs. Eliza Wickham was reputed to be famous local beauty...what do you say about that, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy looked at Caroline, then said, "I would as soon call the mother a wit."
Caroline and Louisa tittered, obviously pleased, though they pretended to be shocked. Darcy got tired of their noise and excused himself from the room. He sought the solitude of his own room to examine what had transpired in one short day. When Darcy had gallantly rescued the helpless lady, he had had no idea who she was. She had been daring, unconventional, amusing and quite charming. He had, he admitted to himself, been fascinated and drawn by her. But she had confessed to being married and he had let her go with no little regret. The lady had haunted his thoughts, but he had dismissed that as natural curiosity as to her condition. He had never dreamed that he would ever meet her again.
But he did.
Darcy could not even think about her without remembering that she bore the name of the man whom he detested most in the world. How could Darcy forget that? He did not know how such a vivacious, seemingly intelligent woman came under the powers of such a scoundrel, but she had. He was certain that she was not aware of her husband's true character. How could she be? And he had left her, no doubt that is why she was traveling all alone. Darcy was torn. Should he tell Mrs. Wickham all he knew about her dear husband? Maybe she knew already. At any rate, he decided that it was none of his business. But fate was very ironic indeed. The one woman who could possibly interest Darcy had to be so hopelessly out of his reach. Darcy smiled cynically. It was just his luck.
Elizabeth gave up all hopes of sleep. She sat up in her bed. Unable to remain idle for long, she decided to do some useful work. She resolved to sort some of her husband's personal papers that she had not had time to look through. There might be a clue as to his whereabouts and circumstances in those papers. Elizabeth got the pile of papers and laid it on her bed. As she was sifting through them, a sealed letter caught her eye because of the name that it had been addressed to.
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth looked at the letter in surprise and tore it open, impatient to pursue its contents.
Chapter 4
The letter was short, containing but a few sentences and Elizabeth devoured the words, burning with curiosity.
'Mr. Darcy,I believe, sir, that you are aware of the hopelessness of my present circumstances. I would hope that you have reconsidered your denial of what is rightfully mine. You cannot have forgotten your dear, departed father's wishes to grant me the living at Kympton. I can see no reason for your refusal and am certain that you shall find it incumbent upon you that I be given my rightful bequest.
I remain, sincerely, your well wisher and friend,
George Wickham'
Elizabeth failed to find any date on the letter and could only conjecture when it had been written. But why was her husband writing to Mr. Darcy, she could not imagine, and furthermore, why had it never been posted. She was acutely surprised to know that a prior acquaintance existed between Mr. Darcy and her husband. Why, then, had she never heard the gentleman's name. And surely, Mr. Darcy must have recognized her name. But he had not said anything. And what of the Kympton living her husband spoke of? Elizabeth was very confused and distressed. She put the letter away and fell into a light, troubled sleep.
The bright, blue, cloudless sky and the cheerful chirping of the birds signaled that another beautiful day had arrived. The sun shone bright and the gentle autumn breeze swayed the flowers in a lazy rhythm. The grass looked green and the morning bright. There was an existing feeling of languor and stillness in the air, bidding the observers to come out and enjoy the pretty sights and sounds.
Elizabeth proceeded on her customary morning walk. This morning was more tempting than most because of the freshness of everything around her. It was morning of new hope and new beginnings, a morning that would end all darkness. Elizabeth inhaled the clean country air, reveling in its purity and sweetness. She felt free, liberated from all restraints and constraints of society. She felt like the lark on the tree, exploring a new world, with a fresh perspective, eager to forget the past and ready to undertake any adventure.
In that spirit, Elizabeth ran down Oakham Mount; her hair loose, her face flush and her breathing strained. But she did not care. All that mattered was that she was alive under the sun, ready to face another day. It was still quite early in the morning, hence Elizabeth was very surprised to spot a horse rider galloping in her direction at full speed. The horse was, yet, too far to make the rider discernible. Elizabeth squinted her eyes until the rider came into view. Recognition dawned, and she colored and turned away.
The rider was now very close to her, so Elizabeth forced herself to face him and greeted. "Good morning, Mr. Darcy. Beautiful day, is it not?"
Darcy got off his horse, bowed and gazed at her with wonder. "Yes, it is beautiful...very beautiful indeed," he murmured in a way that caused Elizabeth to doubt that he was referring to the day. She blushed even more and looked down. Darcy realized that he had been staring and looked away.
"You are up very early, Mrs. Wickham," said Darcy, almost accusingly.
"As are you," reminded Elizabeth with a little smile.
"An old habit?" said Darcy.
Elizabeth nodded. "I found the morning too beautiful to stay indoors. You might say, the blue skies were beckoning me and I came..."
Darcy only smiled, as if sharing her feelings. Elizabeth felt a tingle go down her spine as she looked into Darcy's deep, expressive eyes. Ordinarily, she would have looked away, embarrassed, but feeling very bold, she held his gaze with a challenge in her eyes. It was Darcy who first recollected his thoughts and said, hesitatingly,
"If you are disposed to walk back, I would be happy to accompany you."
"Thank you," said Elizabeth, glad that the silence was broken. "You are too kind."
"It is my pleasure," said Darcy softly and looked like he meant it. He offered Elizabeth his arm, which she took. She held it very lightly, almost afraid of she didn't know what. Darcy looked at her and smiled reassuringly, which encouraged Elizabeth to relax. The horse walked slowly beside them.
Elizabeth felt strangely content and happy at her present situation. Then, a question struck her. "Why did you ignore me at the assembly last night?" Her voice betrayed her hurt.
Darcy looked uncomfortable. "I...ah, I was very surprised to see you. I did not know what I was doing."
Elizabeth looked at him reproachfully, then her lips curved in a small smile. "Well, I shall forgive you this time, but the offense, if repeated, would be unpardonable."
Darcy inclined his head and said with mock-subservience. "Madam is too kind!"
Elizabeth only smiled. She avoided looking at his face for it had a strange effect on her. Elizabeth felt drawn to him by an invisible bond. She trusted him like an old friends, and not the stranger he actually was. But he did not feel like a stranger. Elizabeth thought that she knew him already. She knew him to be a gallant, kind, and compassionate man, who had risked a great deal to save her from dangerous highwaymen. She knew that he was gentle and caring and thoughtful. No, he was not a stranger.
"A penny for your thoughts," said Darcy, breaking into her reverie.
Elizabeth glanced at him and said archly, "I was thinking how fortunate I am to have met you."
"Is that so?" Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Well, I shall reciprocate the compliment and venture to say that it is I, who is fortunate to have met you." The words were said with such intensity that Elizabeth blushed and looked away.
Elizabeth remembered the letter from the previous night. "Mr. Darcy...were you, at all, acquainted with my husband?"
Darcy's face grew somber. "Yes...a little. I knew him as a little boy."
Elizabeth's curiosity increased. "He never mentioned you."
"I would imagine it to be thus," said Darcy, gravely. "We were never great friends."
"I am sorry to hear that," said Elizabeth, sincerely.
Darcy looked at her, and said, "Mrs. Wickham...I...well, your husband has caused great grievance in my family, and I shall not be able to forgive him for that. I am sorry to pain you, but so it is."
Elizabeth sighed, "I am not astonished to hear it. He left me without any money...homeless. Our house had to be sold to repay his gaming debts. That is why I am here."
"That scoundrel!!!" thundered Darcy. "Just when I thought that nothing he could do would ever surprise me, he surprises me. How could he do something so irresponsible, so reprehensible? He did not deserve you."
Elizabeth did not answer him immediately, but when she did, her voice was shaky. "I loved him once...that is why I married him, knowing that our life would be full of financial hardships, but I had not expected...this."
Elizabeth looked away to hide the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She quelled her sobs, but failed in controlling the tears, which now flowed freely. Before Elizabeth knew what was happening, Darcy had disengaged his arm and was standing in front of her, which his hands on her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.
He said with force, "Never, ever cry over him again, do you hear me? His lamentable lack of human dignity and worth does not reflect on you at all. You made a mistake, but that is what it was...a mistake. He is not worth even one of those precious tears."
Elizabeth wiped her tears and looked at him in wonder. "Thank you."
Darcy did not reply. He simply looked at her with an earnest, steadfast gaze. At length, he said, "You are so beautiful...how could Wickham leave you?"
Elizabeth colored and said, "Any more compliments and I shall become intolerably vain!"
"No amount of compliments could ever do you justice," said Darcy with passion. "You are beautiful inside and out."
Elizabeth knew not what to say, so she ventured nothing. She was aware of the impropriety of the situation, but cared not. With this man, she felt she was safe from the malice of the world. She felt that he understood and complemented her. They were not strangers...they were soul mates.
Elizabeth said softly. "How shall I bear to leave you...?" Her voice trailed.
"I shall not let you leave me," said Darcy, slowly leaning closer to her till his face was only inches apart from her.
And, then, he kissed her.
It was not a gentle kiss, a tentative kiss, a first kiss. The kiss was demanding, ferocious, passionate. Elizabeth was overwhelmed by the sensations attacking her. She wrapped her arms around Darcy's neck lest she fainted. This had an effect on Darcy as he pulled her even closer to him. Elizabeth felt giddy with passion and pleasure. She marveled at her boldness in doing what she was and enjoying it like she was. But the scent, the feel, the sheer closeness of Darcy drove her crazy and if he had not kissed her, she would have kissed him.
For how long they were locked in that passionate embrace, neither of them was aware. They finally parted and Darcy smiled and whispered. "I love you..."
Elizabeth was about to say the same when a loud voice shouted. "She is my wife!!!"
Elizabeth whirled around in shock, while Darcy exclaimed, "Wickham!!"
"Yes, Darcy, it is I," advanced Wickham, menacingly. "And this is my wife." He grabbed Elizabeth's arms and Darcy exclaimed,
"Elizabeth!"
Elizabeth cried out...
"Elizabeth!!"
Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw Jane. She sat up in alarm and looked around, then looked at Jane, confused. And it dawned her. It was just a dream...
Chapter 5
"Lizzy?!" Jane said. "Is something the matter?"
"No, nothing, Jane," said Elizabeth, distractedly trying to smile. "I'm sorry I overslept. I shall be down directly."
Jane smiled and left the room, leaving Elizabeth to her thoughts. Had it all been a dream? Elizabeth sat on her bed, confused. She could have sworn it was real. It had felt so real. Elizabeth touched her still-tingling lips with her fingertips. She blushed profusely at the mere thought of the kiss. It had been highly improper, and yet...Elizabeth knew that she had enjoyed it immensely. She would never behave like that in real life, or would she? Elizabeth berated herself for her thoughts. You are married, remember? What are you thinking of? Besides, he does not even like you... Elizabeth knew not why, but the thought that Darcy did not like her seemed to bother her. She remembered him as he was in the dream. He had been so gallant and kind...but it was just a dream, she was quick to remind herself.
Elizabeth sighed, confused by the extraordinary contradictions her life had presented her with. She glanced out of the window and saw that it was a beautiful day, just like it had been in her dream. It would be such a waste to stay indoors. She smiled enigmatically and called for the maid to get ready.
Elizabeth inhaled the fresh country air, smiled at the sunny, cloudless sky and attempted in vain to rid herself of the feeling of deja vu. And yet, the entire scene seemed like an exact replay of her dream. The perfect weather, the morning breeze, the chirping birds. Elizabeth felt that she was a part of an elaborately organized scheme, a predestined fate. But she shook that feeling away, trying to simply enjoy the surrounds without being too superstitious. And yet, a part of her subconsciously awaited for something to happen.
Elizabeth's walk took her to Oakham Mount, as it usually did. She paused for a few seconds to survey the scene, before merrily running down the mount. As in her dream, that action proved too much for her unruly curls as her hair came undone. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes brightened with the exercise. Elizabeth stopped to catch her breath and as she did, her eyes beheld the unimaginable. Elizabeth could not believe what she saw and was certain it was her imagination. However, the horse galloped in her direction and stopped as soon as Elizabeth could be discerned.
Elizabeth felt like an object of some cruel joke as she said with some confusion. "Good morning, Mr. Darcy. Beautiful day, is it not?"
Darcy gazed at her with something akin wonder, then recollecting his manners, said, "Good morning, Mrs. Wickham." He appeared to hesitate, then deciding what to do, he bowed abruptly. "Excuse me, for I fear I am interrupting your solitary ramble. Good day." And with that, he rode away.
Elizabeth stared after him with a sense of anti-climax pervading her. Was that their much anticipated post-dream meeting? Had she expected too much? Why was she so disappointed? Elizabeth did not have the answer to any of the questions, indeed she dreaded the answers very much. The Darcy she had dreamed of was as different from the real Darcy as the sun was different from the moon and day was different from night. Elizabeth knew that had it not been for the complete fictitiousness of her Darcy's character, she might have been in danger. At any rate, she was safe since the sweet, kind, gentle, gallant man from her dreams did not exist. The real Darcy was quite reprehensible, lacking basic good manners, leaving much to be desired. Elizabeth resolved to think of him no more and continued with her walk.
As Darcy rode away, he dared not look back. The mere sight of Elizabeth Wickham made him nervous and he did not know how to act. Darcy recalled their trip on the carriage. There had been no awkwardness then. But that was before Darcy had been aware of who she was. She was married and bore the name of the man he hated more than anything in the world. Yes, that was before Darcy knew her name. And that one name had changed everything and things could never be the same.
Darcy nudged the horse to go faster, his frustration overwhelming him. He had slept ill the previous night as thoughts of a certain lady's expressive eyes and mysterious smile invaded his thoughts. But it was all in vain, Darcy knew. Indeed, he was not even certain why this conflict was raging inside him. Elizabeth Wickham was a very enigmatic woman and in any other circumstances, Darcy would have been intrigued by her. But this situation prevented him from showing any interest in her. And, he rationalized, he would not even wish to have an interest in a woman with such connections and breeding.
Partially satisfied, Darcy rode on until Netherfield came into view. He had risen early that morning and had, therefore, escaped before any of the other occupants awoke. But, as he headed for the great house, he knew that there was no avoiding Miss Bingley now. He resigned himself to that torture and after depositing the horse in the stable, fortified himself for a tedious cross-examination.
Darcy entered the breakfast room where all the occupants of the house were assembled. He had not taken three steps when Miss Bingley addressed him with,
"Oh there you are, Mr. Darcy! We were all wondering where you had gone!"
"I was out riding, Miss Bingley," said Darcy politely, accepting a cup of tea.
"But that is so healthy!" exclaimed Miss Bingley. "If only all of us were blessed with your propensity of rising early, we would all be able to benefit from early exercise."
Darcy merely smiled and said, "You are kind, Miss Bingley, but my rising early is more out of habit than choice. I have done so since childhood."
"And it is an excellent habit, too!!!" Miss Bingley said enthusiastically. "You have so many more productive hours to work with. No wonder Pemberley is such a great estate. Bye and bye, Charles...," she addressed her brother, who was absently stirring his tea. "You must learn something from Mr. Darcy or you will never be able to make Netherfield anything like Pemberley!!"
"I have no wish to make Netherfield into Pemberley, I assure you," smiled Bingley. He cast an amused glance at Darcy, then taking pity on his uncomfortable friend, Bingley turned the conversation with, "Oh, Darcy, I meant to tell you, we shall be dining with the Smythes tonight."
Darcy barely acknowledged the information when Miss Bingley exclaimed, "Heavens knows that I have no wish to go out in such a society, but it is our duty to attend some of these gatherings."
"I am certain we shall be entertained, Caroline!!!" said her brother. "and have a pleasant evening."
"As pleasant as can be expected under the circumstances," said Darcy.
Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst agreed whole-heartedly with Darcy's statement.
Bingley ignored them and only said, "Well, I am predisposed to enjoy myself. Everyone was so kind and attentive to us at last night's assembly. They mean to welcome us in the neighborhood and the least we can do is show them some respect."
"Oh Charles!!!" tittered Miss Bingley. "You are too gullible. These people pay attention to us only because of our fortune, and...," she glanced at Darcy. "because the matchmaking mamas hope to get a good catch for one of their daughters!"
Bingley knew the words were too true to be refuted, so he did not reply her. Instead, he said with a shrug. "Well, look at it anyway you want. But I am resolved not to find fault with all that I see."
Darcy smiled quietly, knowing that the last was aimed, partially at himself. But he refused to rise to the bait and discuss, at length, the merits of Hertfordshire. Bingley held such a different view that any consensus on that topic could never be reached. Darcy had, therefore, resigned to argue about it no further.
Bingley, fancying that he had won the debate, grinned. "I shall also have an opportunity to get better acquainted with Miss Bennet. And that pleases me very much."
Miss Bingley, sighed, shook her head and exchanged exasperated glances with Louisa Hurst which said: when will he ever learn?
Meanwhile, the mention of the Bennets caught Darcy's attention. He supposed he would often be thrown into their company. Strangely, that conviction unsettled, yet pleased him. So, he would be often in the company of the intriguing Elizabeth Wickham. He was dismayed at the fact that he was looking forward to it, in spite of himself.
"Darcy? What is it?" Bingley asked gently.
Darcy recollected himself. "Huh? Oh, nothing, Bingley. Why?"
"You were smiling very strangely just then," Bingley informed him.
"Oh, was I?" said Darcy.
"Darcy, do you object to tonight's engagements?" asked Bingley, puzzled by his friend's manner.
"Oh no! My feelings are quite the opposite, I assure." Darcy smiled enigmatically and excused himself.
Bingley stared after his friend, feeling very confused.
The Smythes were an old, settled family in Hertfordshire, perfectly respectable and very sociable. While they might not be the most genteel people in the world, they were certainly very amiable. Mr. Smyth had some, little property and Mrs. Smyth had her own small fortune. They had found it incumbent on them, therefore, to invite the Bingley party as well as their other friends for dinner and entertainment.
"Mr. Bennet! Mrs. Bennet! You are very welcome!!" exclaimed Mrs. Smyth. "You're looking very lovely, Jane, as usual. And Elizabeth...so glad to see you again! How have you been. Mary, how nice of you to come!!" Kitty and Lydia had disappeared into a crowd of officers and young men as they were prone to do.
Jane linked hands with Elizabeth as they proceeded inside. Elizabeth quickly scanned the crowd and found that the Bingley party had not arrived yet. They were fashionably late, as could be expected. Elizabeth had dressed with more than usual care, arranging her hair in a simple, yet flattering style and wearing her favorite muslin gown. Although she would deny it, Elizabeth had taken great care to appear to her best advantage.
"Well, Jane, here we are," said Elizabeth, with a sly smile. "But the question is, where is Mr. Bingley!"
Jane blushed and protested. "Really, Lizzy!! Stop teasing me so!"
"Oh Jane, you look twice as lovely when you blush!!"
"Lizzy!!" Jane was very embarrassed.
"Alright, I shall behave myself," smiled Elizabeth, disengaging herself from her sister, as she spotted Charlotte Lucas. "Charlotte!"
"Lizzy!" Charlotte greeted her. "You look very nice tonight! What is the occasion?"
It was Elizabeth's turn to blush. "Thank you, Charlotte. I have not worn this gown since...well, it has been a long time."
From the pained expression in Elizabeth's eyes, Charlotte knew that she had last worn it when her husband was still around. But Charlotte changed the subject. "I have been practicing a new piece on the piano, but I cannot seem to get it right. You must help me with it."
"Of course, I will!!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Do you remember when we were little girls? We would always practice together for hours, but it did me no good. I still play very ill indeed!!"
"Better than me, though!" laughed Charlotte.
"Well, that is a matter of opinion!" smiled Elizabeth, then the smile vanished as she looked over Charlotte's shoulders. "Oh lord! He is here!"
"Who is here?" inquired Charlotte, turning around. The Netherfield party had just arrived. Charlotte looked at her friend, who gazed steadfastly as the new arrivals were welcomed by Mr. Smyth. Then, recovering, Elizabeth looked at Charlotte.
"Is there something you wish to tell me, Lizzy?" asked Charlotte, puzzled.
"No!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "It is just that..., well, Mr. Bingley is here and Jane will be happy!! Yes..."
Charlotte looked at Elizabeth skeptically, not believing her for a second.
As soon as Darcy had greeted the hosts, his eyes darted across the room in quest of a familiar pair of eyes. He saw her standing in the middle of the room, engaged in conversation with a young lady. He smiled, relieved that she was, indeed, present. He gazed at her expectantly, and she glanced at him, holding his gaze for a moment, then looking away. My god, she looks lovely! Thought Darcy in dismay.
He remembered the first time he had laid eyes on her. She had been tied and gagged and was fighting spiritedly. He had admired her spirit and courage then. He had been captured by the playfulness of her dark eyes and the unruliness of her curls. There was a wild undisciplined boldness about her that had impressed Darcy. The way she had defiantly declared that she was traveling alone. Darcy disapproved, but had to admit that her spirit was admirable. As he watched her talk sedately with her friend, dressed in a fine gown, he could only wonder at this side of her. Who would think that just a day before, she was fighting off highwaymen? Darcy smiled to himself. But no one had to know. It was their little secret.
"Mrs. Wickham!" Bingley greeted Elizabeth. "I am very pleased to see you."
"Thank you, sir," smiled Elizabeth, glancing nervously at the approaching figure.
"I hope you have not forgotten our engagement to dance together?"
"Indeed, I have not!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "I assure you, you could not avoid it, even if you wished to!"
"Oh, I do not wish to!" Bingley laughed. "I am hurt that you would think so lowly of me!"
"Well, sir," smiled Elizabeth. "Let there be solace in that I am never serious, hence my comments should not excite anything but amusement."
Bingley laughed, and asked, "Is your sister here tonight?"
Elizabeth grinned. "Yes, you shall find Jane over there...," she pointed in a direction.
Bingley bowed and excused himself, doubtlessly in the quest of Jane. Elizabeth smiled, but dared not turn her head for she knew she was being observed.
"Mrs. Wickham..."
"Mr. Darcy," curtsied Elizabeth. Then, looking at him archly. "We are destined to meet often, Mr. Darcy. It is a fate, I am afraid, you can scarcely avoid!"
Do I wish to avoid it? "That is to be expected," said Darcy, more grimly than he had intended.
"I am sorry for both of us, then," shot Elizabeth, offended by Darcy's tone.
She mistakes my meaning... "Why should you be sorry?" asked Darcy.
"We shall both have to endure each other's company for longer than palatable to either. The situation is lamentable, but cannot be helped," said Elizabeth sternly. "However, we can make the best of it and try to keep out of each other's way."
Darcy regarded her for a moment, then said, "I agree."
Elizabeth felt her anger rise and she said what she wouldn't have at any other time. "I am glad we have reached that agreement, but pray tell me, Mr. Darcy, how long did you hope to conceal your acquaintance with my husband? And to what purpose, if I may be so bold as to inquire?"
Darcy just stared at her, surprised by her sudden outburst.
Chapter 6
"I am not quite certain as to your meaning," ventured Darcy, at length, in a manner that exasperated Elizabeth further.
"Oh, I imagine we both comprehend my meaning very well, sir!" exclaimed Elizabeth haughtily. "But if you should claim ignorance, that is your prerogative."
"I understand your meaning," said Darcy calmly. "But I merely wish to point out that I have never concealed my acquaintance with Mr. Wickham...I just did not mention it because I never had the opportunity or the inclination."
Elizabeth stared at Darcy in amazement. How could he twist her words like that? Of course, he had concealed it. If she had not stumbled upon the letter, she would never have known. Darcy was smiling a gentle, victorious smile, but Elizabeth was not accustomed to accepting defeat.
"Do not trifle with me, Mr. Darcy for I am in no humor to bear with such inanity," said Elizabeth gravely. "I am sorry that you could not be honest with me, but I find myself in a situation that requires me to understand my husband's dealings with his past friends and acquaintances. I had high hopes that you would help me in that quarter, but I shall importune you no further."
Saying thus, Elizabeth would have walked away, had not Darcy called her name. "Mrs. Wickham!" She stopped, and turned to face him once again, her gaze inquiring. Having commanded her attention, Darcy was at a loss, but he finally gathered his wits and said,
"My acquaintance with your husband, Mrs. Wickham, has been, by nature, unpleasant and I have, therefore, refrained from mentioning it heretofore. I am afraid that my communications would not be agreeable to you..."
"In that case," Elizabeth interrupted him. "I would suggest that you keep your communication to yourself. My memories of my husband are agreeable, and except for his recent desertion, I have nothing to complain of. I would not wish to alter my opinions for the sake of my peace of mind. I am resolved to think of the past only as its remembrance gives pleasure. Your words would only burden me, I am afraid..."
Darcy nodded. "By all means, I would not suspend any pleasure of yours." He bowed and walked away, leaving Elizabeth in mental turmoil.
Elizabeth was at a loss to understand why she had behaved in the manner she had. She had been overbearing, insulting, and condescending even. First demanding why Darcy had not revealed his acquaintance to her husband, then not even permitting him to fully explain himself. Elizabeth was appalled by her lack of self-control. But there was something so maddening, so disturbing about Darcy that she found herself losing her sense of manner and decorum. It was, indeed, a sad situation. And what he must think of me! Thought Elizabeth. How must I appear to him? Positively mad, I am sure!! But what do I care? But the sad part was that she did care.
Darcy's mind was similarly engaged as he walked to his usual place by the window. He could not, for the life of him, decide what had gone wrong. Mrs. Wickham had been most disagreeable towards him and Darcy did not know why. But it is so obvious why! He thought. She does not like you and she is in love with her husband. But why was that so hard to imagine and reconcile to? Darcy shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts of those incredibly fine eyes that had just moments ago lashed out at him in anger.
The rest of the evening afforded but little pleasure for either Darcy or Elizabeth. They did not approach each other, keeping a safe distance. Elizabeth appeared to be enjoying herself in the company of her sisters and friends, and Darcy satisfied himself by standing unobtrusively in the corner, watching Elizabeth, and studying her every move. He observed that while she laughed and talked a great deal, there was a pervading sense of sadness about her aspect. She smiled, but the smile never reached here eyes. She laughed, but the humor did not touch her face. Darcy could not be certain as to the cause of her unhappiness, but he could well imagine it involved Wickham. Darcy caught her looking in his direction once or twice, but he fancied it was only natural curiosity.
"She is quite something, eh Darcy?" Mr. Smyth, the host approached him.
"I beg your pardon?" Darcy was annoyed at being thus solicited.
"I meant Miss Lizzy...Mrs. Wickham, rather," said Mr. Smyth. "A very lively young girl, always was."
Darcy did not reply, embarrassed by the fact that Mr. Smyth had noticed his preoccupation. Am I that obvious?
Mr. Smyth continued. "Well, it is a very sad thing, what happened to poor Miss Lizzy...she deserves better."
Darcy could not contain his curiosity. "Why, what happened?"
"Oh, I do not know for certain, although," he lowered his voice. "Rumor has it that her husband abandoned her and she has nowhere to go. I can well believe it for Mr. Wickham was always too smooth for my taste. But these girls fall for a handsome face. Lizzy was no different, I dare say..."
Darcy did not hear what Mr. Smyth prattled about. He was caught by the reference to Elizabeth's misfortunes. He would not imagine Wickham to be above any heinous crime, but abandoning his wife while he was in pursuit of his sister...that was too much to be borne. Darcy felt his anger rise anew.
"...but who knows what she will do now," Mr. Smyth was saying. "We can only wish for the best."
"Yes," murmured Darcy. "That is all we can do."
"I have always said that the worst misfortunes befall the best people," observed Mr. Smyth. "It is god's joke, I dare say."
"Quite," muttered Darcy, in no humor to encourage the silly man any further. "If you'll excuse me..." He walked away.
The next morning, Darcy engaged himself in answering his correspondence, among which was a letter for his sister.
My dearest Georgiana,I hope this letter finds you in fine health and the best of spirits. Indeed, if it were possible, I would dearly wish to be by your side this very moment. How are your music lessons coming along? I am sure I shall find great improvement when I hear you next, if, indeed, you are in want of any improvement for I shall venture to say that you are quite as accomplished as anyone I have ever heard. Mrs. Annesley informs me that you have not been in spirits as of late? That saddens me more than you shall know, Georgiana, for your every woeful gaze, I blame myself for not having been a dutiful brother.
But that is in the past, and I shall endeavor to forget it, as should you. You must not let the shadow of one incident cloud your future. As one friend once remarked, 'Think of the past only as its remembrance gives you pleasure.' That is very good advice, one which all of us should take heed of. But, I am preaching again...fear not, I am quite done, except for saying that I love you very much and hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my negligence and be happy, if only for my sake.
You will, undoubtedly, be happy to know that I find Hertfordshire quite pleasant, if not as fashionable as town. However, it lacks your presence and you are sorely missed everyday. Bingley is delighted with the society, though I cannot agree with him entirely. The people are pleasant enough, but some lack the gentility that one is accustomed to. I have, however, made the acquaintance of some rather interesting persons, and look forward to my stay in Hertfordshire.
I shall be eagerly awaiting your reply and remain, most fervently, your loving brother and friend,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Oh, thought Darcy as he sealed the letter. She is still so unhappy...damned Wickham...all the time he was married. How much misery has that man caused already? Darcy sighed. He could not do anything about it. It was out of his reach...for once in his life, Darcy felt helpless and out of control.
"Well, Lizzy," said Mr. Bennet as the family was assembled. "How do you find Meryton's engagements."
"The same as always, papa!" exclaimed Elizabeth.
"Quite so," smiled Mr. Bennet. "But the question is, how well can you bear it?"
"Of course she likes it!!" interrupted Mrs. Bennet. "What is there not to like?"
Elizabeth rolled here eyes, but refrained from commenting.
"We are invited to Sir Lucas's tonight," informed Kitty.
"Yes, child, we know," said Mrs. Bennet. "Jane, Mr. Bingley will be there, you know, so you must dress carefully. Wear that blue gown your Aunt Gardiner gave you for Christmas. Your figure appears to the best advantage."
Mr. Bennet made no comment, although he was sorely tempted to. He got up and proceeded to the library, his sanctuary. A little while later, he heard Elizabeth walk by and he summoned her in.
"Yes papa? You wish to talk to me?" asked Elizabeth.
"Sit down, Elizabeth," said Mr. Bennet. She did as was told. "I have been watching you ever since you came and I am unhappy to see your sadness...Jane told me of your situation..."
"I do not wish to be a burden, papa," said Elizabeth with downcast eyes.
"Indeed, you are not," said Mr. Bennet. "Lizzy...you must understand. We all love you and wish to support you in this unhappy situation. You can never be a burden."
"But papa," objected Lizzy. "I cannot stay here forever...I shall have to support myself by some means."
Mr. Bennet did not reply immediately. "That would be your choice, Lizzy, and I would not stop you if you felt it incumbent upon you to do so. But I want you to know that you are, by no means, homeless. Longbourn shall always be your home."
"Thank you, papa," Elizabeth smiled, tears welling in her eyes. "This means a lot to me."
Mr. Bennet smiled as he watched his favorite daughter leave. Fate was such a cruel thing, he mused. Who would have foreseen that such a lively, intelligent young woman would one day be left at the mercy of a heartless man. Mr. Bennet blamed himself for even allowing the match to take place, but he imagined that had he refused his blessings, the young couple might have eloped. As ironic as it might seem, they had appeared to be very much in love. Yes, Mr. Bennet blamed himself, for it was due to his lack of discernment that his daughter was left in this condition. He remembered a similar interview with her, a long time ago...
"Are you out of your senses, Lizzy," cried Mr. Bennet. "in accepting this man! He is handsome, to be sure, but what of his prospects? Can you truly be happy with him."
Elizabeth smiled her placating smile and said, "But I love him, papa. Is that not all that matters?"
"Well, yes," agreed Mr. Bennet. "But it would not be prudent, Lizzy...try to understand..."
"I do understand," declared Elizabeth. "I know that Mr. Wickham is not rich, and may never be so, but he is amiable and he loves me. And I know that I shall be happy with him." Seeing her father's skeptical look, she added. "Did you not always tell me that happiness in marriage should always stem from mutual love and respect?"
Mr. Bennet sighed. "So you are determined to have him?"
Elizabeth smiled and nodded.
"Very well," said Mr. Bennet. "Send the young man in, will you?" as his daughter began to leave, he said. "I shall miss you very much, Lizzy."
"I shall miss you, too, papa."
Mr. Bennet cringed at the mere thought of what had transpired. He should never have granted permission for the match. But how could anyone have known that behind the amiable, gentlemanly façade, hid Wickham's true, wretched character.
"What does Mr. Darcy mean," said Elizabeth to Charlotte. "by listening to my conversation with Colonel Foster."
It was at Sir Lucas' where a large party was assembled including the regiment that had been quartered in Meryton for the winter. Elizabeth had observed Darcy eavesdropping into her conversations, but he showed no intention to join into the conversation himself, thereby provoking her.
"Well, that is a question which only Mr. Darcy can answer satisfactorily," said Charlotte. Seeing Darcy approach, she defied her friend to mention the subject to him, and Elizabeth, rising to the challenge, as she so often did, said,
"Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Foster to give us a ball at Meryton?"
"With great energy," replied Darcy with a hint of a smile. "But it is a subject that always makes a lady energetic."
"You are severe on us," declared Elizabeth, looking into his eyes defiantly.
"I would not be so presumptuous as to attempt that," smiled Darcy. "Especially when I am surrounded by so many ladies."
"Then, you admit that you fear our wrath?" asked Elizabeth, glancing at Charlotte who had left them alone.
Darcy shook his head. "It is not so much fear as chivalry. I would not wish to make any lady uncomfortable."
"You are very convincing, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth. "And if I did not know better, I would be tempted to think that you were trifling with me. But," she paused. "I assure you I do not mean to abuse you tonight."
Darcy only smiled, as Elizabeth continued. "Mr. Darcy, let me express my apologies for my behavior towards yourself the other night. I do not know what came over me, but I did not mean to accost you like I did. Can you forgive me?"
"It is forgotten, madam," said Darcy, gravely. "Do not trouble yourself on my account."
Elizabeth looked at him, thoughtfully, for a moment, and Darcy felt his pulse quicken. Then, she curtsied and left him standing. He stared after her as she joined the invaluable Miss Lucas. Darcy felt elevated, almost happy. His conversation with Elizabeth was satisfying, almost civil. That, in itself, was a great improvement.
One of the Bennet sisters, a pale woman with a pedantic air, engaged to entertain the company with music and soon lively Scotch and Irish airs commenced. The younger Bennet sisters along with some officers danced in the corner of the room. Darcy stood, observing them, in silent indignation, and was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice his neighbor.
"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy!!" exclaimed Sir Lucas. "Indeed, I consider dancing to be the first refinements of every polished society!"
"And every unpolished society," said Darcy, gravely. "Every savage can dance."
Sir Lucas, taken aback, did not answer immediately, but soon exclaimed. "Quite so. Capital! But don't you think it would a proper compliment to this place if you joined in?"
"Thank you, sir," said Darcy. "But I rarely dance."
Darcy was quietly considering modes of escape when Sir Lucas's eyes caught a figure move near them and he called out. "Mrs. Wickham! Eliza! Why are you not dancing?!" He gallantly held her hand and turned to Darcy. "I wish to present to you, Mr. Darcy, a most desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance when so much beauty is before you."
Saying thus, he would have placed her hand in Darcy's had not Elizabeth drawn back and exclaimed with some discomfort. "Indeed, Sir Lucas, I do not mean to dance. I hope you would not think that I moved this way to beg for a partner."
"I would be very honored if you would dance with me, Mrs. Wickham," said Darcy, silently thanking Sir Lucas.
"You cannot refuse now, my dear," insisted Sir Lucas. "for Mr. Darcy, who dislikes the amusement much in general, is obliging enough to agree."
"Mr. Darcy is all politeness!" exclaimed Elizabeth archly, looking into Darcy's eyes, then quickly looking away. She bowed and walked away.
"Well!" said Sir Lucas. "Capital! Capital!" He, too, left Darcy alone to his devices.
Darcy tried to hide his disappointment. He had not realized how much he really wished to dance with Elizabeth. But she had refused him...Darcy imagined that he had discerned a hint of amusement and mischief in here eyes, almost as if she had divined his feelings and wished to punish him. But Darcy knew that was ridiculous. She had merely declined because she did not wish to dance...with me, he added mentally. He sighed and followed her with his eyes. She was talking to one of here sisters and then, she laughed. This time, Darcy observed, her laughter was genuine and her smile reached here eyes. It lit up her face and made her beautiful eyes even more expressive.
"I can guess the subject of your reverie," a voice whispered in his ears.
Argh! Miss Bingley! "I should imagine not," said Darcy, half smiling.
"You are thinking how insupportable it would to pass many evenings in this manner, in such a tedious company!" giggled Miss Bingley.
"Your conjecture is wrong, I assure you," said Darcy. "My mind was more agreeably engaged. I was meditating on the great pleasure that a pair of fine eyes on the face of a pretty woman can bestow."
Miss Bingley took a sharp breath. "And whose are these eyes that inspire such thoughts?"
"Mrs. Elizabeth Wickham."
"Mrs. Elizabeth Wickham!" Miss Bingley exclaimed in surprise. "I am all astonishment!" She left him alone.
Darcy was glad to have gotten rid of Miss Bingley, but was surprised by his own admission. If he did not know better, he would almost think that his feelings for Mrs. Wickham were anything but indifferent friendliness.
"Jane is sick; I have to go to Netherfield," declared Elizabeth over breakfast, two days later.
"Whatever for, child?" asked Mrs. Bennet. "You know there is nothing for you there."
"Jane would wish me to be with her, mama," explained Elizabeth patiently. It was difficult to deal with Mrs. Bennet. The day before, she had insisted that Jane go to Netherfield on horseback for Miss Bingley's dinner invitation, as it seemed like rain and she hoped that Jane would be forced to stay in Netherfield. Her wishes had come true, it appeared, as Jane, not only stayed the night, but was too sick to be removed at all, at present.
"I take that as a hint to order the carriage," said Mr. Bennet.
"No indeed, father, for I'd much rather walk," said Elizabeth. "It is barely three miles and I shall be back for dinner."
"Walk three miles in all this dirt!!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. "You shall not be fit to be seen."
"I shall be fit to see Jane, mama, which is all I want," said Elizabeth with finality and the subject was dropped.
Elizabeth set out after breakfast, as per her intentions. Not being a horsewoman, she enjoyed walking extremely as it was one of the few means of exercise open to her. The fresh air was crisp and cool after the bout of rain. The fields and meadows were still muddy and wet, making Elizabeth's shoes and petticoat quite dirty. But she was not of a disposition to care too much about her appearance. After walking persistently, Netherfield came into view and Elizabeth rejoiced. Suddenly, she spied a figure walking in the groves.
"Mrs. Wickham!"
"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth curtsied, a little surprised. "I am come to inquire after my sister."
"On foot?" his tone was incredulous.
"As you see," said Elizabeth defiantly. "Why, does that bother you?"
"No indeed," muttered Darcy, leading her inside the house.
Once she was shown into the breakfast parlor, where her presence created great surprise, Elizabeth instantly asked to be taken to Jane, and her wish was granted. No soon was she gone that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst began abusing her appearance.
"What does she mean to be scampering about the country because her sister has a cold?!" laughed Miss Bingley. "Her hair, Louisa!!"
"And her petticoat!" exclaimed Louisa Hurst. "Six inches deep in mud. I hope you observed that, brother."
"Your picture may be exact, Louisa," said Bingley with some annoyance. "But I must admit, it quite escaped me. I thought Mrs. Wickham looked remarkably well."
"What do you say Mr. Darcy?" asked Miss Bingley. "I dare say this little escapade has affected your admiration of her fine eyes."
"Not at all," said Darcy. "They were brightened by the exercise."
A little discomfited, Miss Bingley persisted. "But you would not wish your sister to make such a display...?"
"Certainly not," said Darcy. But she is not my sister...
Satisfied, Miss Bingley was about to make further comments, when the lady in question herself appeared. Bingley was instantly by her side.
"I hope you did not find your sister very ill?"
"I am afraid she is quite ill, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth.
"I shall summon the apothecary immediately!" said Bingley. "And you must stay."
"Oh no...I would not wish to inconvenience you," said Elizabeth, glancing at Darcy.
"No, I insist!"
Elizabeth acquiesced, smiling, and Darcy released the breath he did not know he was holding. He looked at Elizabeth and felt a pang of jealousy as she smiled at Bingley. Good god, man! What is the matter with you?! Darcy berated himself. Even more shocking was the answer to that question.
"Mrs. Wickham," said Bingley. "The servant who had gone for your clothes has returned from Longbourn. He bears this express which came for you shortly heretofore."
He handed it to Elizabeth, who was greatly surprised. The express was addressed from Newcastle, her former home. Immediately, Elizabeth supposed that it had some tidings of her husband. She got up and went to stand by the window, feeling the eyes of the others upon her.
Mrs. Wickham, we are grieved to inform you that your husband, Mr. George Wickham, has been killed in a duel in Madrid, Spain. It will be impossible to recover his body. Accept our condolences at this hour of grief,Philip Grey.
Elizabeth let out a little scream and fainted.