Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 1 (14 page)

‘And so I did,’ he said. ‘I made arrangements to visit her as soon as her letter arrived. Unfortunately the letter was delayed, or else I would have been here sooner. But I did not know that I had you to thank for the information.’

‘That is hardly surprising, since you did not give me a chance to speak. You bustled me out of the house yesterday as if I were a beggar. Worse, for even a beggar at my house would be treated with some civility.’

He scowled, but by the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, she could tell her remark had hit home.

With his next breath he tried to justify his conduct.

‘My sister has been the object of unscrupulous people in the past, who have scraped an acquaintance with her in order to ingratiate themselves with my family,’ he said. ‘It has been my duty to protect her from such impertinences.’

‘And so, because there are some unscrupulous people in the world, everyone who speaks to your sister must be suspect?’ demanded Elizabeth.

By now he had recovered his aplomb. He turned superior eyes on her and said, ‘Yes, they must. I would rather offend a stranger than expose my sister to the false friendships of those who seek to use her for their own purposes.’

‘Then, if you are going to be so severe, it would be as well to be certain of your facts before subjecting innocent people to your disapproval,’ she said, her eyes flashing.

‘And in the meantime?’ he demanded. ‘Is my sister to suffer the pangs of betrayal when she discovers that her new friends are nothing of the sort, but are merely people who are using her for their own ends? It is better for me to be suspicious to begin with, and save her that pain. There is time enough for friendships to develop when I have vetted her new acquaintance.’

‘Then I hope you will find some people you think suitable quickly,’ Elizabeth flashed back. ‘Your sister is lonely. She is pining for female companionship of her own age. It is not enough to give her a large house and beautiful clothes and an array of servants. She must have friends or she will be poor indeed.’

Mr Darcy’s pride had been growing throughout this speech.

‘It is not your place to lecture me on the way I look after my sister,’ he exploded, his dark eyes flashing with outrage.

‘Well, someone must do it, and if you are as high-handed with everyone else as you are with me, I dare say they are too cowed to tell you anything you do not wish to hear,’ remarked Elizabeth, refusing to be cowed. ‘And few people, I dare say, would be brave enough to tell you the same thing twice. But it is your sister who is suffering. She needs young ladies with whom she can discuss fashions and bonnets and music and romance.’

‘She is far too young to be thinking about romance,’ said Mr Darcy curtly.

‘Apparently not, since Mr Wickham was able to win her affection so easily,’ returned Elizabeth pointedly.

He had no answer for that and so he fell into a brooding silence. His fine cheekbones were etched and his jaw was set as he looked out of the window, his dark eyes full of turmoil. His shoulders were held straight, but she could tell it was an effort for him not to slump in his distress. He set one booted foot on the raised edge of the door and he rested his elbow on his knee. The black of his tailcoat showed up in stark contrast to the white of his breeches, and he drummed his fingers against the window in frustration.

Elizabeth despised Mr Darcy for his rudeness, but she could not help pitying his distress. He was a good brother even if he was misguided, because it was clear he loved Georgiana very much.

At last the coach turned off the road and clattered into the yard of a coaching inn.

‘Wait here,’ he said to Elizabeth as it drew to a halt.

Without giving her a chance to reply, he jumped out of the carriage and went to consult the ostlers about any other carriages which had just passed through.

He rejoined Elizabeth a few minutes later.

‘They have been here,’ he said. ‘They changed horses and sped off again, but we have been making good time and we are now not more than five or ten minutes behind them. We will soon catch them.’

The coach set off again at a riotous pace. Since the horses were still fresh, and since Mr Darcy intended to overtake his sister in a few miles, he had not taken the time to have his own horses changed.

He said no more to Elizabeth. Instead, he resumed his former brooding attitude.

Elizabeth turned to look out of the window in an effort to catch sight of Wickham’s carriage. But Mr Darcy was reflected in the carriage window, and she found herself tracing his face with her eyes in an effort to work him out.

His character was a complex one. Even on such a short acquaintance, she had seen many contradictions in it. He was a proud and arrogant man, and yet his affection for his sister was real and sincere. Moreover, it revealed a softer side of his character. She wondered what that softer side would be like and regretted that she would not have a chance to find out, for he would never show it to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Who was Miss Elizabeth Bennet, after all? In the opinion of Mr Darcy she was no one at all. And so she would never see anything of him except his proud and haughty exterior.

The coach turned a bend and there, ahead of her, she saw a carriage she recognised.

‘It is them!’ she exclaimed.

Mr Darcy told the coachman to push the horses harder, and soon the coach drew level with Mr Wickham’s carriage.

The coachman, an expert driver, pressed Mr Wickham’s carriage hard and forced it off the road.

Mr Wickham’s coachman cursed but no one paid him any attention.

Mr Darcy leapt out of the coach, closely followed by Elizabeth, and flung open the door of Mr Wickham’s carriage.

Elizabeth’s heart went out to Georgiana. From the state of her dress it was obvious what had happened. Mr Wickham had attempted to ruin Georgiana so that Mr Darcy would agree to a marriage after all.

Luckily, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy had caught Mr Wickham in time, and although Georgiana was upset, no damage had been done.

As Mr Darcy caught Mr Wickham by the lapels and dragged him out of the coach, where he felled him with one well-placed punch, Georgiana collapsed into Elizabeth’s arms.

‘Hush,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You are safe now. There is no harm done.’

There was a hint of a question in her voice, and Georgiana shook her head. ‘He kissed me, but he had time for no more. Oh! To think how I once dreamed of his kisses! But he was not the man who courted me. That man was polite and charming and full of deference. The man who abducted me was another man entirely, a desperate villain who would stop at nothing to gain his own ends. How can one man have two such different faces?’

‘You are very young,’ said Elizabeth soothingly. ‘You will soon learn to tell the difference between a good man and a bad one, and your brother will be more careful of your companions in future, for it is clear Mrs Younge must have been involved.’

‘Yes,’ said Georgiana, as her sobs subsided. ‘She knew Mr Wickham and they arranged it together.’

Elizabeth put her arm around Georgiana and led her towards the coach.

As she did so, she heard Mr Wickham say, ‘If you mention this to anyone, Darcy, I will say that Georgiana came willingly and I will ruin her reputation.’

Elizabeth saw that Mr Darcy was controlling himself with great difficulty, but his pride had got the better of his anger and he did not knock Mr Wickham down again.

‘If you ever say one word against Georgiana, I will destroy you,’ said Mr Darcy, his face white with anger. ‘I will make sure that nowhere in England will hold you.’ He turned to Mrs Younge. ‘And as for you, Ma’am, you will never again work for a decent family. You have betrayed your trust and you are lucky I don’t take you before the magistrate. But I will make sure you never again have a young lady in your charge. Now be gone, the pair of you, before I change my mind about letting you go.’

Mr Wickham and Mrs Younge picked themselves up and climbed hurriedly back into their carriage.

Mr Darcy approached and Georgiana shrank from him, too ashamed to go to him. But Mr Darcy held out his hands to her and then she flew to him like a bird, burying her face in his coat. His strong arms closed around her and she sobbed on his chest.

‘So there is some forgiveness in you, after all,’ said Elizabeth softly.

But Mr Darcy turned a hard gaze on Elizabeth and said, ‘Georgiana was not at fault. There is nothing to forgive. It is Mr Wickham and Mrs Younge who were at fault, and I will never forgive them.’

He led Georgiana back to the coach, comforting her all the while.

Elizabeth followed them, with her aunt’s maid bringing up the rear.

Mr Darcy gave Elizabeth an uncomprehending look when she climbed into the coach and she realised with a shock that, now he had no further use for her, he did not expect her to go any further with him.

Her spirit rose at once.

‘Perhaps you would prefer I walk to London?’ she asked defiantly, smarting from his look.

A frown crossed his face. He hesitated for a brief moment and then said grudgingly, ‘No, that will not be necessary.’

‘That is very good of you,’ she said, with a haughty gaze of her own. ‘How kind of you not to expect me to walk for fifty miles or more. Now, if you would be good enough to take me to Gracechurch Street, I would be much obliged,’ she said.

Mr Darcy’s look of disgust conveyed his views on Gracechurch Street. It was a respectable address, but it was not in a fashionable part of town, and it was inhabited by men of business and not by men of any great social standing. Nevertheless, Mr Darcy gave his coachman instructions to take them there, and they were soon on their way again.

The rest of the journey was completed in silence.

Georgiana, exhausted from her ordeal, sank against her brother’s chest.

Mr Darcy, his face stony, appeared to be thinking about what he would like to do to Mr Wickham if he were not too much of a gentleman to do it.

Elizabeth’s maid did not like to speak.

And Elizabeth’s mind was too full of everything that had happened to allow her to say anything.

When at last the coach turned into Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth took a subdued leave of the Darcys. Georgiana turned her head and attempted a smile, but she was clearly still shocked and not capable of anything more.

Mr Darcy did not even climb out of the coach in order to hand Elizabeth down. He merely made her a slight bow as she bid him farewell.

Never had she been made to feel more insignificant.

As she heard the coach pulling away she thought that, if not for the friendship she bore Georgiana, she would have been very happy never to hear the name of Darcy again.

She crossed the pavement to the steps leading up to her aunt’s front door. As she did so, she happened to look up and saw Jane’s face at the window above.

She gave a huge sigh of relief. It was a most welcome sight! She felt lighter of heart just seeing her sister, and the world seemed a friendly place again. A smile crossed her tired and careworn face.

‘Oh, Jane, I am so glad you are here before me,’ she said, as she went into the house and removed her bonnet in the hall.

She embraced her sister, holding her tightly for longer than usual.

Jane pulled back, still holding Lizzy’s hands, and looked at her in surprise.

‘Why, Lizzy, whatever has happened? I saw you arriving in a private coach, instead of walking from the coaching inn as I had expected. Who did it belong to?’

‘Oh, Jane,’ said Elizabeth, as the two ladies went into the drawing-room. ‘What a lot I have to tell you!’

‘I cannot believe it,’ said Jane.

She and Elizabeth were sitting in the drawing-room. Elizabeth had had time to recover from her strange day. She had removed her outdoor clothes and she had had a pot of tea, together with a light supper prepared by her aunt’s servant. She had very much needed the refreshment. The journey had been long, some eighty miles or thereabouts. It had taken most of the day, even in Mr Darcy’s superior carriage with the horses being frequently changed. They had eaten a hurried luncheon at one of the coaching inns but that had been Elizabeth’s only chance for food.

‘It is true, nonetheless,’ said Elizabeth.

‘That a gentleman should be so lost to all decency that he would abduct a gently born young lady, and, from what you say, a delightful one,’ said Jane, horrified.

‘Mr Wickham is no gentleman,’ said Elizabeth with a shake of her head. ‘He has all the appearance of one, but he has the manners of a scoundrel.’

‘Thank goodness you saw the carriage and were able to alert Mr Darcy,’ said Jane.

‘Yes – for all the thanks I had,’ said Elizabeth.

‘It was very wrong of him to treat you so badly, although he thought he was doing the best for his sister.’

‘Dear Jane!’ said Elizabeth with a smile. ‘Always seeing the best in people! Mr Darcy knew very well he was being rude and disagreeable – or, if he didn’t, he should have done! He is not deficient in intellect and he must have had a good education. There is no excuse for him.’

‘Never mind,’ said Jane with a sympathetic smile. ‘You will not have to see him again.’

‘No, for which I am truly grateful. And yet I am concerned about Georgiana. She was very upset and said scarcely a word. She has no friends of her own age and I am worried about her. Do you think I should call?’

Jane hesitated.

‘Yes, I know,’ said Elizabeth, reading Jane’s mind. ‘Were Miss Darcy not so high, I would call as a matter of course. But if I arrive at the Darcys’ London house uninvited, I fear I will not be admitted.’

‘You could write to her,’ said Jane. ‘I think you said Miss Darcy gave you the name of her London home?’

Elizabeth brightened.

‘Yes, she did. That is a very good notion, I will write at once,’ she said. ‘It will set my mind at rest to know she has recovered from her ordeal.’

She went over to the writing desk and pulled forward a sheet of paper and a quill. She dipped the quill in the ink and began to write, expressing her concern. Then she gave it to the servant to deliver.

‘And now, tell me all the news from home,’ she said.

After giving Elizabeth news of all the family, Jane said, ‘Netherfield Park is to be let.’

Elizabeth’s interest was caught. The owner had recently died and his heirs had decided to rent it out, for they already had their own estate and did not need another one to live in.

‘Has there been any interest in it?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘Yes, several people have been to view it, although, so far, no one has taken it. But it is only a matter of time. Mama is very excited about it. She hopes it will be taken by a large family with plenty of sons. In fact, she talks of little else.’

‘Poor Papa!’ said Elizabeth with a laugh.

‘Yes,’ said Jane. ‘He is already tired of the subject, but I fear that nothing will stop Mama. He will be very pleased to have you home again.’

‘And I will be very pleased to be there. Despite its trials, it is still home, and after my eventful summer, I will be glad to return to more familiar irritations. If only I can hear from Miss Darcy before I go back to Longbourn, I will be able leave the Darcys and their problems behind.’

Mr Darcy stood by the fireplace of Georgiana’s London establishment, drumming his fingers on the mantelpiece. He had given her into the care of her London maid, explaining her distraught state by saying there had been a carriage accident, and advising that she be put to bed.

He had sent a note to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, immediately on returning to London, asking him to call. Colonel Fitzwilliam was Georgiana’s joint guardian, with Mr Darcy, and Mr Darcy wanted to tell him of the situation.

Colonel Fitzwilliam soon arrived and the two men discussed what they should do.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was all for horsewhipping Mr Wickham, but gradually he became calmer and the two gentlemen agreed that any dramatic action would draw attention to the incident. And that was something they wanted to avoid.

‘I blame myself,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘I should not have sent her to Ramsgate alone.’

‘Hardly alone,’ protested Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘She had a companion and a complement of servants. You were not to blame.’

‘No?’ said Mr Darcy.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s words returned to him and cut him on the raw.

‘Regardless, it is done now and there is no undoing it,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘Let us be thankful that nothing worse happened, and that Georgiana will soon recover.’

‘Yes, let us hope so. I mean to take her to Pemberley with me as soon as possible.’

‘A good idea,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘Get her out in the fresh air, riding and walking. It will banish her troubles more quickly than staying indoors. And invite some agreeable company. She has had a shock and you do not want her to become afraid of men. Charles Bingley is a good sort of man, why not invite him to Pemberley? His gentle manners will soon restore her faith in life.’

‘I have been thinking much the same thing myself,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘And I will invite his sisters, too. Georgiana needs some female company.’

It had not occurred to him before. He had seen Georgiana as a child still, who would be content with her needlework and her music, but Miss Elizabeth Bennet was right. Georgiana was growing up and she was thinking, naturally, of clothes and romance, as well as her accomplishments. She was too young yet to be out in society, but this did not mean that she had to be treated as a child in all things. Some concessions must be made to the fact that she was a young lady and no longer a little girl.

Colonel Fitzwilliam took his leave, and Mr Darcy attended to some small matters of business which had arisen while he had been away.

The mail was laid on a silver salver, as usual, and once he had attended to his other business he picked up the first letter. It had been delivered by hand. It was addressed to his sister and, as he did not recognise the writing, he opened it, for he was determined to protect her from any possible distress.

He glanced down the page to the signature and saw it was from Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

He squirmed inwardly. He was not comfortable thinking about that young woman. He was aware that he owed her a great deal, for without Miss Elizabeth’s timely warning, Georgiana might have eloped with George Wickham. And if not for Miss Elizabeth seeing Wickham’s carriage, Georgiana would have been successfully abducted by him. If that had happened, there would have been endless complications, as well as all the distress and degradation it would have occasioned for Georgiana.

But although he owed Miss Elizabeth a great deal, he knew her to be far beneath him – and far beneath his sister – and he did not want to encourage her.

His sense of justice here warred with his sense of pride. On the one hand, he should thank her and invite her to tea with Georgiana. On the other hand, he felt that the sooner the disastrous Ramsgate chapter of his sister’s life was closed, the better.

And then there were his own feelings, barely acknowledged, to consider. He had been affronted when Miss Elizabeth had argued with him, but he had also been attracted. No one else had the courage to speak to him in the way she had spoken to him and it had been strangely appealing. She had made him view her as a strong-minded person, instead of a humble worshipper at his feet. She was intelligent and had a great deal of insight into his sister. Insight he lacked. Because, although he loved his sister, he was a man, and he could not understand the finer points of the female psyche. But now, thanks to Miss Elizabeth, he realised there were things that Georgiana needed, and he meant to give them to her in the form of more female friends. He also meant to treat her like a young lady instead of a little girl as he had a greater appreciation of the fact that she was growing up.

For all this, he had to thank Miss Elizabeth.

But he was resentful rather than grateful.

He hated to acknowledge the fact to himself, but it was so. He would rather view her as a person of no consequence but she had forced him to see her differently, and Mr Darcy was not used to being forced into things.

Nor did he like the experience.

He remembered the way her eyes had sparked and her cheeks had flushed with the force of her arguments, and the way it had made his body react. The way, too, it had made his mind and spirit react. She had a way of challenging him which was not pleasant, but was not altogether unpleasant either, and even in a very short space of time she had made an impact on him.

He did not wish her to make any further impact on him, because he already found it difficult to forget her and, in particular, to forget the expression in her eyes. They were beautifully shaped and very fine. If he saw her again, he believed he might be in danger of treating her with more attention than she deserved. He really ought to forget her.

But this left him in an awkward position. Should he give Georgiana leave to invite Miss Elizabeth to tea or not?

To his surprise, he felt a stab of pleasure at the thought of Miss Elizabeth sitting in his home, and he felt a longing to see her face again. But against that was set a desire to end the Ramsgate incident, both for himself and for his sister.

In the end, the latter desire won.

He went over to his writing desk and penned a brief letter to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, thanking her for her concern and telling her that Georgiana was now safely in the bosom of her own family and recovering from the disagreeable incident.

The letter made it clear that Miss Elizabeth Bennet should not write to Miss Darcy again.

He signed it with a flourish, then folded the paper and sealed it. He gave instructions that the letter should be delivered.

Then Mr Darcy set about banishing Miss Elizabeth Bennet from his mind.

Elizabeth and Jane spent a friendly evening together. Jane wanted to know all about Ramsgate, for Elizabeth had not yet told her about the town and the seaside as she had been too busy telling her about the Darcys. But now that Elizabeth had confided in Jane about the remarkable incidents, she was able to tell Jane all about the more normal side of her stay. She told Jane where the best haberdasher’s was, so that Jane could buy pins and ribbons and any other little things she might need during her stay. She told her where the best dress shops were, so that Jane could enjoy looking at the expensive creations in the window, though such gowns were beyond their means. She told her which milliners stocked the best bonnets, for she knew that Jane needed a new one. And when she had finished telling Jane about the shops, she told her about the beach, how it ran for miles with a flat promenade to walk on and a sparkling blue sea. She talked of paddling and sea bathing – for there were bathing machines on the beach, and Elizabeth had several times ventured into the water. And then she spoke of her aunt and uncle, their kindness and her uncle’s improving health. She told Jane about the children, and how much they were enjoying their holiday, with its paddling and kite flying and sea bathing and trips to local beauty spots for picnics. So that by the time she had finished, Jane was well prepared for her holiday and looking forward to it.

Elizabeth had just convinced herself she had forgotten all about the Darcys when she saw a footman walking proudly along the street outside. She stopped talking in mid-sentence.

‘What is it?’ asked Jane.

‘That is one of Mr Darcy’s footmen,’ said Elizabeth.

‘See, Lizzy, Mr Darcy is not as bad as you think him,’ said Jane in her friendly and forgiving manner. ‘He is no doubt going to invite you to tea.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Elizabeth dubiously.

There came a knock at the door and their aunt’s servant answered it. A minute or two later, they saw the footman leaving.

‘He has not waited for a reply,’ said Elizabeth. ‘That does not bode well.’

The servant brought the letter in and handed it to Elizabeth with a curtsey.

‘Thank you, that will be all,’ said Elizabeth.

She did not want the servant to guess that anything unusual had happened.

When the servant had left the room, Elizabeth examined the letter. It was written in a clear, bold masculine hand.

Elizabeth read the contents with ever-growing impatience.

‘Impossible man!’ she said.

‘What does it say?’ asked Jane.

‘See for yourself,’ she said, handing the letter to Jane.

‘Oh, dear,’ said Jane, when she had finished the letter.

Even her gentle nature could not find anything good to say about it.

‘It is my dismissal,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He could not have been more rude or condescending if I had been an unsatisfactory servant who was being sent on her way.’