A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (16 page)

“Cash?” Wickham cried. “I have no cash.” He surged to his feet to glare at Darcy, his fist clenched at his sides.

Darcy eyed Wickham, whose attempt to stare him down was made much less effective by the nearly five inches Darcy had on him. Darcy allowed himself a slight smile. He could tell Wickham wanted to hit him. He half hoped the man would try.

Wickham took a step back. “If you put those out, everyone will realize I’m not coming back to pay them. I’ve left debts from here to York.” He looked to Richard and Forster beseechingly. “They’ll throw me in debtor’s prison.”

“They can’t reach you to put you in debtor’s prison if you’re on that ship,” Richard said.

Wickham cast a beseeching look about the room again. He took another step backward, sitting down hard on the stool when his legs came up against it. With a groan, he covered his face with his hands.

Two days later, Darcy stood on the docks with Richard, Mr. Bennet and Colonel Forster. They watched in silence as the ship they’d put Ensign Wickham on sailed out to sea, headed for Spain. Once it reached a spot that was too far away for someone to jump off and swim to shore, they turned to face one another.

“Gentlemen, I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done,” Mr. Bennet said. “I knew Lydia wouldn’t be happy until she embroiled herself in some sort of scandal. I’d no idea she would select one which might have had such far-reaching repercussions for her sisters. Having known Lydia her entire life, I still underestimated the extent of her foolishness, and selfishness.”

Darcy looked to Richard and Forster, uncomfortable with both the thanks and Mr. Bennet’s frankness.

“Always happy to help, of course,” Richard said. “I’m afraid I must be off now. I’ve business in London.” He bowed to Mr. Bennet and shook Forster’s hand. “Till next time, Darcy,” he said, turning to stride away.

Darcy watched him go, thinking it would be a much quieter ride back to Kent. He’d offered to accompany Richard to London, providing his cousin the comfort of a carriage, but Richard had declined. The one thing they’d agreed on was that there was no reason for both of them to return to Kent. Rosings was well in hand. Darcy’s return was merely a formality. At least, that’s what he’d told Richard.

“Are you returning to Hertfordshire tomorrow?” Colonel Forster asked Mr. Bennet.

“By way of Kent,” Mr. Bennet said, to Darcy’s surprise. “My daughter wants my permission to marry someone she met there and I haven’t yet been introduced to the man.”

Darcy stared at Mr. Bennet. How could the man have made no mention of that? Surely, he didn’t mean . . .

“At least this one asked,” Forster said with a good-natured grin.

Mr. Bennet winced slightly. “Yes, she did. She appears to be more responsible than her sister.”

“Mr. Whitaker?” Darcy asked abruptly, hoping the other two men didn’t hear the strain in his tone. It would not do to ask which daughter, but Elizabeth was the responsible one.

Mr. Bennet nodded. “That is the gentleman’s name. Do you know him? Will he be suitable for Kitty? I can’t imagine he will be, as he must be silly to ask for her hand.”

“I know him,” Darcy said. His relief was so strong, he could almost ignore how Mr. Bennet always disparaged his younger daughters. “He’s a worthy gentleman. Not that it is my place to observe such things, but I think you’ll find Miss Kitty somewhat changed for the better by her time in Rosings.”

Forster shot Darcy a look that clearly conveyed his agreement that Darcy had no right to speak to Mr. Bennet in such a way or on such a topic. Darcy ignored the colonel.

“I can only hope you are correct,” Mr. Bennet said. His tone was amused, not reprimanding.

“I am returning to Kent,” Darcy said. “Would you care to share my carriage?”

“Thank you,” Mr. Bennet said, nodding.

They bid Colonel Forster farewell and selected an hour at which to depart. Darcy left the dock well pleased with how their solution for Wickham had worked out, and even more pleased that he would see Elizabeth again soon.

Chapter Sixteen

Elizabeth perched on the edge of a couch, watching Kitty read a letter from Lydia. It was all she could do not to snatch the note from her sister’s hands. A glance told her Anne wore an amused smile on her face, though Miss de Bourgh kept her eyes on her book.

“I would have thought you’d be a faster reader by now, Kitty,” Anne said. “It’s a good thing Elizabeth is so very patient.

“It’s hard to read Lydia’s handwriting,” Kitty said, looking up from the letter. “It’s always abysmal.”

“Be charitable,” Anne said. “When you arrived here, your handwriting was not so fine as it is now.” Anne’s insistence that Kitty practice her handwriting was the most recent way she’d decided to improve her guest.

“What does Lydia say?” Elizabeth blurted. Didn’t Kitty understand how important it was that Lydia had been stopped from ruining them?

Kitty handed her the letter, looking a bit startled. “You needn’t yell at me. All is well.”

Elizabeth shook her head. She would make that assessment herself. She dropped her eyes to the page.

My Dear Kitty,

              So much has happened since I last wrote! Do you know, I did run off with Mr. Wickham, just as I told you I would, and I am married, just as I said I’d be, but not to Wickham. Isn’t that a lark? I bet you never could have guessed I’d do it, especially after you warned me.

I must say, in regard to that, that for once you were completely in the right. I should have listened to you, but I was wholly taken in by Wickham. I thought he loved me, but he didn’t. Why, he wasn’t ever going to marry me. Can you imagine? How dare he run off with me with no intention of being honorable about it!

Fortunately, I was rescued by my darling Pratt, two colonels, and that awful Mr. Darcy. It was very exciting, but at the time I was so upset about Wickham that I didn’t really appreciate what was happening. Now that I’m married, I don’t suppose I’ll get the opportunity for any more daring rescues in my life. Isn’t that a sad thought?

Elizabeth closed her eyes in silent supplication. Sad thought indeed. If Lydia dared do anything so foolish again, she didn’t deserve a daring rescue.

You’ll never believe it but Pratt, you know, the quiet one who hardly ever danced with either of us, he came to me and told me that he’s always loved me and that he was sorry that Wickham was so disrespectful of me. He said he wanted to protect me so I would never need to be rescued again.

Isn’t that romantic? Who knew? I mean, of course I always suspected he liked me, all officers do, but I had no idea of how much he cared. He said he wanted to marry me, but thought it was too soon for me to marry him, since I would need time to recover from Mr. Wickham’s betrayal. My dear sweet Pratt said that if I agreed to marry him, he would wait until I was sure I was doing the right thing.

Then Harriet Forster came in, interrupting us. She sent Pratt away, but I quickly said yes, so he would return. She is no fun at all anymore, Kitty. You’re lucky you aren’t here with her. She lectured me endlessly about how I was ruined and how ungrateful I was. She said I would be sent home in disgrace and, if she had her way, I would be treated like a child and not allowed to go to dances or anything until all of my sisters were married. When I told her that no one would want to marry Mary, she said, “Good. Maybe by the time you are thirty your father will let you attend dances.”

I was so upset, I started to cry. I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t help it. You should have seen the smug smile on her face. It was horrible. I was glad when she left.

Later, Papa came and said he gave Pratt permission to marry me if I agreed. He said he was a little reluctant, because I was too young to marry. He thought I should stop attending parties and spend my days helping around the house and learning accomplishments. I told him I was not too young. I said I would marry Pratt immediately if I had a chance. Papa said, “Don’t be silly. It will take weeks.”

Of course, that only made me angry with him. I am not silly, nor am I a child. I proved that to all of them when I married my Pratt.

You see, the next morning Pratt came to me and told me he had a special license! I asked him how he got it and he said that a man who is eager can accomplish a lot. He said he wanted to marry me right away in case Papa changed his mind.

We got married that very morning! We showed Papa he was wrong. I’m the youngest and now I’m married first. If I go back to Longbourn, when we go to dinner, Jane must go lower, because I am a married woman. And now I can sign with my new name!

Your loving sister,

Lydia Pratt

Elizabeth folded the letter. A smiled played over her lips. It had all been very neatly done, getting Lydia to wed. She wondered who had put such a clever plot together. It was too convoluted for her father and too manipulative for Mr. Darcy. She didn’t know Colonel Fitzwilliam, Pratt, Colonel Forster or Mrs. Forster well enough to estimate which of them was likely to have concocted the scheme.

“I take it all is well?” Anne asked, looking up from her book.

“Lydia was rescued from Mr. Wickham and has wed a Mr. Pratt,” Elizabeth said.

“Is this Pratt a good man?” Anne asked.

“I don’t know much about Mr. Pratt,” Elizabeth admitted. She hadn’t paid the officers much attention, unlike her younger sisters. “I’m pleased that at least she didn’t marry Wickham.”

“Pratt was always rather quiet,” Kitty said. “He attended parties, but he always seemed to have more duties than the other officers and he didn’t dance much. I’m glad Lydia is married. Isn’t it lucky there was someone else who loved her so much he was willing to overlook her running away with Mr. Wickham? Why, Pratt must have not danced with her often because he was worshipping her from afar.” Kitty let out a sigh, her eyes full of proverbial stars.

Elizabeth exchanged an amused glance with Anne, giving a little shake of her head to indicate she didn’t see any reason to disabuse Kitty of her romantic notions.

“Yes,” Anne murmured. “It is lucky indeed. Speaking of luck, Elizabeth, could you retrieve the envelope on my writing desk and read what’s in it? It pertains to you.”

Elizabeth frowned, but went to find the page, returning Lydia’s letter to Kitty on her way. She opened the envelope on Anne’s desk. Seeing that it was from a bank, she quickly averted her eyes.

“It doesn’t pertain to me,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps I should look somewhere else?”

“I think you’ll find it does pertain to you,” Anne said.

“It’s from a bank,” Elizabeth said.

“That is correct. Read it.”

A brief perusal showed it was indeed from a bank. The salutation was not addressed to Anne, however, but rather to Elizabeth. It was a statement claiming she had three hundred pounds in an account with them.

“I thought we agreed I was staying here as your friend,” Elizabeth protested, realizing this was the one hundred pounds a month Anne had offered her, which she’d refused.

“And as your friend, I have given you that,” Anne said.

Elizabeth glanced at Kitty, whose eyes were full of curiosity for the exchange. It was clever of Anne to bring up the subject now, in the parlor. She knew Elizabeth wouldn’t want to speak too openly with a witness. “I really cannot take this, though it’s very kind of you.”

“I’m afraid you have no choice,” Anne said. “The account is in your name. I have no rights to it.”

“What is it?” Kitty asked.

“I wasn’t even able to accomplish the task you set me,” Elizabeth said, for she hadn’t managed to keep Anne from sending most of the staff scurrying away.

“Yes, but you stayed on and put things back together after my mistake.”

Footsteps in the hall forestalled Elizabeth’s reply. A maid came into the room. “A Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy, miss,” she said to Anne before bowing and backing away to allow the two to enter.

Elizabeth quickly folded the paper detailing her account and put it in her pocket. She shot a look at Anne that was meant to convey that they would revisit the subject at a later time. She turned back to see Mr. Darcy following her father into the parlor and had to suppress a sigh. Mr. Darcy looked even more handsome than the last time she saw him. Pulling her eyes from his, she hurried to her father.

“Papa,” she said, briefly embracing him. “Mr. Darcy,” she added with a curtsy.

“Papa,” Kitty greeted as she too hugged their father. “Mr. Darcy, how fine to see you again so soon.” She curtsied.

Elizabeth hid a smile, taking in the surprise on her father’s face. Kitty hadn’t run, or squealed. Her tones were cultured and her curtsy flawless.

“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Kitty,” Mr. Darcy said. He bowed. “Mr. Bennet, may I introduce my cousin, Miss de Bourgh.”

“You have a splendid home, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth’s father said. “Thank you for allowing my daughters to stay with you.”

Anne didn’t stand, but she did smile. “It is I who should thank you, sir, for the loan of them. You are welcome here as well.”

“Thank you,” her father said. “It’s a generous offer, but I shall not trouble you. I have been invited to stay with a Mr. Whitaker.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Kitty blush.

“Please excuse my manners, but I would be much obliged if I might borrow Elizabeth for a short time? There are some matters of family I must discuss with her,” her father continued.

“Of course,” Anne said. “Mrs. Allen will be joining us momentarily. Kitty and I shall do quite nicely with her and Mr. Darcy for company. Won’t we, Kitty?”

“Yes Miss de Bourgh,” Kitty said. Amazingly, her tone wasn’t even sullen. She turned to Elizabeth. “You should show Papa where we like to walk. The views are splendid.”

“I’ll get my bonnet,” Elizabeth said. “If you’ll excuse me Mr. Darcy, Miss de Bourgh, Kitty. I’ll meet you in the foyer, Papa.” She dropped a curtsy and hurried away.

Elizabeth hoped no one could tell how much it was affecting her to have Mr. Darcy near. He, of course, looked completely unperturbed, while she was embarrassingly elated to see him again. It wouldn’t do for anyone to notice. She all but ran to her room.

After composing herself, Elizabeth met her father in the foyer and led the way outside. Once they were a bit away from the house, he gave her his version of what had transpired in Brighton. It was more detailed and, Elizabeth suspected, a good deal more accurate than Lydia’s.

“It was cleverly done,” Elizabeth said once he was finished. “Who was the mastermind?”

“In ensuring Wickham boarded that ship, Mr. Darcy,” her father said. “In seeing Lydia wed, Pratt.”

“Kitty has a very romantic version of what happened.”

“And she shall keep it. What I’ve told you goes no further. Secrets aren’t kept by telling more people.”

Elizabeth nodded. There was no one she wished to tell. Mr. Darcy already knew the whole of it. “I’m glad that Lydia didn’t marry Wickham.”

“Pratt will be a much better husband than Wickham would have been,” her father agreed.

“You met Mr. Whitaker before coming here?” Elizabeth asked.

Her father nodded. “Mr. Darcy was kind enough to stop there first, though he seemed eager to arrive here.” He glanced at her askance.

Elizabeth kept her face composed. “What did you think of Mr. Whitaker?”

“I’m surprised Kitty has caught someone so sensible and eligible. Mrs. Bennet will be delighted.”

“Delighted that he’s sensible?” she couldn’t resist asking.

His eyes smiled but he didn’t reply. They walked in silence for a moment. Elizabeth realized they were nearing the spot where she and Mr. Darcy had spoken so intimately and turned them down a different trail. She didn’t wish to walk there again unless she could be alone with her memories or beside the man who’d helped create them.

Her mind returned to the discussion she and Anne had been having when her father and Mr. Darcy arrived. She frowned. “I have a problem that I am not sure how to handle,” she said.

“You? Have a problem you can’t handle?”

“Your implied vote of confidence is noted, but it’s true,” she said. “When Miss de Bourgh first asked me to stay she offered me a hundred pounds a month. I said I wouldn’t take it and she appeared to agree with me. I discovered a short time ago that she’s deposited three hundred pounds in a bank account under my name.”

“You have been here three months,” he said.

“She gave me a piece of paper with the bank’s name. She said she couldn’t get the money out of the account so she has no way to take it back. She tricked me into getting my signature.” Elizabeth spoke that as she realized it, her mind going back to all of the letters Anne had asked her to write, all the signatures she’d signed on page after page of them.

“I fail to see the problem,” her father said. “I know you aren’t accustomed to the idea of earning money, and I know that you feel it is too much, but she trusted you. Did you ever betray that trust?”

“Of course not.”

“If she’d hired a stranger to do what you did, it might have cost her much more than three hundred pounds.”