Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 1 (8 page)

Elizabeth had calmed down sufficiently the next day to think of speaking to Mr Darcy and letting him know of the harm he had done. Indeed, she was looking forward to humbling him, because Mr Darcy needed to be humbled. He needed to learn that everything he said and did was not right, just because he said or did it. He needed to learn to be more considerate of other people’s feelings.

But she soon learned that she was to be disappointed, for her mother said, ‘Thank goodness that odious Mr Darcy has left the neighbourhood. I am sure he did not look kindly on his friend falling in love with Jane – nasty, arrogant man that he is. We are better off without him.’

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged glances in surprise.

‘I did not know he had left the neighbourhood,’ said Jane. ‘This is very sudden.’

‘Your great men often do things on a whim,’ said Mr Bennet, who presided over the table. ‘He probably had business to attend to in town.’

‘I don’t know anything about that,’ said Mrs Bennet, ‘but Hill had it from the cook, who had it from her niece, who as you know is the kitchen maid at Netherfield Park.’

‘How long will he be there?’ asked Jane.

‘I hope he has gone away for good,’ said Mrs Bennet.

Such news must be discussed, and after luncheon Jane and Elizabeth donned their cloaks and bonnets and went for a walk around the shrubbery. The autumn leaves made a brown carpet beneath their feet and crunched as they walked.

‘Do you think he has really been called away by business, or do you think he has discovered the truth of the matter and is too ashamed to face me?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘Lizzy! I am sure Mr Darcy is not ashamed of making an honest mistake. Perhaps he does not even know he was wrong, for if Mr Wickham did not tell him so, then how should he learn the truth?’

‘That is even worse, for then I must wonder if it is my duty to tell him when next I see him.’

‘I think not,’ said Jane. ‘Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham have known each other since their childhoods. Such a mistake cannot go undiscovered, now that Mr Wickham has been apprised of it. I only wonder he did not tell Mr Darcy of his mistake yesterday.’

‘Mr Wickham was angry, and rightly so. He thought Mr Darcy should have known that such a thing was impossible. High words passed between them, and we know where that ended.’

Elizabeth was assailed by a memory of the two men wrestling in the river and fell silent as she contemplated her tangled feelings.

‘Perhaps it is better Mr Darcy has gone, after all. It will give the two gentlemen time to recover from their resentment, without the danger of their running into each other again.’

Elizabeth agreed, but she could not help feeling sorry that she would not see Mr Darcy again. She did not like the man – no, far from it – but his company was stimulating and she would have enjoyed humbling him.

The thought of never seeing him again left her feeling unaccountably downcast.

She realised she had spent enough time talking about herself and Mr Darcy. She turned the conversation to Mr Bingley.

‘Oh, Lizzy, I love him more and more each day,’ said Jane with a smile.

‘Love?’ enquired Elizabeth.

‘Yes, Lizzy, love. I am sure of it. I am in love with him. And I think he likes me too.’

‘He does more than like you, Jane, he is falling in love with you, if he is not in love with you already, which I sincerely believe he is.’

She did not add,
And perhaps Mama was right to be grateful that Mr Darcy has gone to town
, but she thought it.

Mr Darcy was a proud man and Elizabeth had seen him look at Jane once or twice as if Jane were not good enough for his friend. Mr Bingley had looked anxious when he caught sight of Mr Darcy’s disapproving looks, and as he was a mild mannered gentleman it was possible he might have been swayed by Mr Darcy’s opinion.

But now, with Mr Darcy out of the way, Mr Bingley was free to fall in love with Jane.

And Elizabeth was free to fall in love with Mr Wickham.

Elizabeth was often in Mr Wickham’s company over the next few weeks, but somehow the pleasure of being with him had gone. He was still charming and affable, but Elizabeth detected something superficial in his easy conversation and a lack of character beneath the charming surface. She began to find his company unfulfilling and was glad that he seemed to be slowly withdrawing his attentions.

‘I hope you are not hurt by Mr Wickham’s lack of attention,’ said Jane, as the two of them prepared for bed one night. They had spent the evening at their Aunt Philip’s house and Mr Wickham had been very quiet.

‘On the contrary, I am grateful for it,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I found him amusing to begin with but I am starting to tire of him. He has nothing new to say and I begin to wonder if I ever really liked him at all, or if I was blinded by his handsome face. He means to return to London before Christmas and I am glad of it.’ She had tired to talking of Mr Wickham and said, ‘Let us hope Mr Darcy stays in London, too. You are getting on so well with Mr Bingley, we do not want Mr Darcy coming back to Netherfield and casting a pall over everything.’

She was not quite so happy about it as she appeared. She missed Mr Darcy, although she would never have admitted it to anyone. She did not even fully admit it to herself. His cold demeanour had challenged her and his intelligence had matched her own. There was a depth to him that was intriguing.

‘I believe Mr Darcy does not mean to return at all,’ said Jane. ‘He is busy with his sister at his London house. She is fifteen, I believe, and she is just starting to go into a little company – nothing public, simply small gatherings of Mr Darcy’s friends. Mr Bingley has been invited to go. Mr Bingley’s sisters would like him to marry Miss Darcy, but Mr Bingley is not to be persuaded. He said that he could not afford the time to visit London. Was that not splendid of him?’

‘It was indeed,’ said Lizzy with a smile. ‘Now the only thing we have to worry about is whether Mr Bingley will propose to you before Christmas, or whether he will propose to you afterwards!’

Jane smiled quietly but she did not disclaim, and Elizabeth felt a surge of happiness for her sister. If anyone deserved every good thing that life had to offer it was Jane, for she was goodness itself. She would make Mr Bingley a loving wife and she would make an excellent mistress for Netherfield Park.

The proposal came in the early days of March. Mr Bingley asked if he might have a private conversation with Mr Bennet and was admitted to the library, Mr Bennet’s sanctum. As the two men talked, Mrs Bennet paced the drawing-room, wafting her handkerchief in front of her face and saying, ‘What can be taking them so long? Why does Mr Bennet not just say yes?’

‘Mama!’ said Elizabeth, seeing that her mother’s conversation was upsetting Jane, for Jane was looking pale and nervous.

‘Don’t “Mama” me, Lizzy!’ replied her mother peevishly. ‘If they have not done within the next few minutes I will go in there myself and make Mr Bennet give his approval, if I have to give it to Mr Bingley myself!’

‘I am sure Papa is simply enjoying Mr Bingley’s company. Mr Bingley is a very agreeable gentleman and Papa likes him very much.’

‘If I were you, I would not stand for it,’ said Mrs Bennet, turning to Jane. ‘I would go in there and tell my Papa to give his consent this minute, or tell him you will never speak to him again!’

Poor Jane only looked more distressed at this unhelpful remark, and looked down at her hands in her lap.

‘I’ll go!’ said Lydia, bouncing out of her chair. ‘I am sure Papa will listen to me!’

‘Oh, yes, Lydia, what a good idea,’ said her doting mother.

Fortunately for Jane, Lydia had not even reached the door when it opened and Mr Bingley walked in. His face was wreathed in smiles and Jane looked up with a look of bliss on her face.

‘Mr Bingley! Mr Bingley!’ said Mrs Bennet, rushing towards him. ‘Oh, I knew how it would be! From the first moment I saw you and Jane together, I knew you would become my son-in-law.’ She turned to Jane and said, ‘We must go to London immediately and buy your wedding clothes.’ She then embarrassed everyone by saying, ‘Just think, Jane, five thousand a year!’

Mr Bingley, however, did not look disgusted, as well he might, for he had eyes only for Jane. He walked forwards with his hands outstretched and she reached out her own hands. He took them and gently drew her to her feet. It was clear he wanted to kiss her, and it was also clear that Lydia meant to gawp and Mrs Bennet meant to continue chattering about Mr Bingley’s estate, his wealth and his handsome face.

Elizabeth came to her sister’s rescue, saying, ‘Lydia, I believe the officers are to dine with my aunt Philips tonight. Let us walk into Meryton and find out.’

‘Officers!’ said Lydia, losing all interest in Jane and Mr Bingley. ‘I’ll go and fetch my cloak.’

‘Mama, I believe you had some commissions for me the next time I went into Meryton?’ said Elizabeth.

‘Oh, yes, Lizzy, so I did.’

‘If you will just make me a list . . . ’ said Lizzy, leading her mother out of the room.

As she closed the door behind her, she saw Bingley taking Jane into his arms, and she felt a profound sense of satisfaction that everything had turned out well for her sister.

She endured Mrs Bennet’s long list of instructions as to what she should buy in Meryton and she endured Lydia’s prattle, just as she endured Kitty and Mary deciding to join the party, because she knew she was buying her sister some time alone, and was glad to free Jane of her embarrassing family, even if it was only for a short while.

And for herself she was happy, too. Her mother had set her heart on going to London and Elizabeth knew that she would also be invited. They would stay with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner at their house in Gracechurch Street.

Mr Darcy had looked down his nose when he discovered that the Gardiners lived in such an unfashionable part of town. But she need not worry about Mr Darcy. He lived in a much more fashionable neighbourhood when he was in London, and she was sure she would not see him there.

How wrong she was.

There was a great deal of bustle in the Bennet household. Mrs Bennet had carried the day and the ladies were all to go to London, to help Jane choose her wedding clothes. Mr Bennet had declined to accompany them, saying he was looking forward to some peace and quiet when they had all gone. They were to stay with Elizabeth’s Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in Gracechurch Street. To be sure, it would be a crush, but Mrs Gardiner had assured them they were all welcome, and as they did not mind sharing rooms then space could be found for them all somehow.

Mary wanted to visit the museums; Kitty and Lydia wanted to visit the milliners’ shops; and Elizabeth wanted a change from the frustrations of home.

She loved to see how happy Jane was. In fact, Jane was radiant, for not only was she to have a complete wardrobe of new clothes in London, she was to attend a series of entertainments at Mr Bingley’s newly rented London residence, where she would meet more of his friends and relatives.

Their first day in London was spent quietly with the Gardiners as they recovered from the coach journey, for they had bumped over any number of potholes. They spent some time with the Gardiners’ lively children and caught up with all the family news.

But on the second day they ventured into town. Mr Gardiner had taken some time from his business affairs and kindly escorted Mary to the museum, while the others went to Grafton House. It was a large fabric warehouse, where Mrs Bennet examined almost every roll of cloth and talked over its virtues and failings with a patient Mrs Gardiner and a harassed assistant.

Jane bore the whole thing very well, quietly pulling forward a pure white silk and saying she thought it very fine. Mrs Gardiner agreed with her and Elizabeth knew that, in the end, her sister would have her way, for Jane’s quiet patience was worth more than all Mrs Bennet’s bluster.

Lydia and Kitty soon tired of looking at all the rolls of fabric, and Lydia bemoaned the fact there was not a single officer to be seen.

‘I am beginning to think I should have stayed in Meryton,’ she said.

Elizabeth thought so too, but did not say so. Instead, to relieve Jane of Kitty and Lydia’s tiresome presence, she offered to take the two younger girls to the milliners a little further down the street. Aunt Gardiner agreed it was a good idea, and as she had brought a footman with her to help carry their purchases, she said they might take the footman to the milliners as a chaperon.

‘For it would not do to have three young ladies going into a London shop unescorted,’ she said.

Elizabeth left Grafton House and her little party soon arrived at the milliner’s shop. There was another lady in front of them who was being served, so Kitty and Lydia went over to the window and examined the bonnets on display.

Elizabeth went over to the counter, where she had seen a selection of ribbon to be used as a bonnet trim.

As she examined the ribbon, she was surprised to hear the shop assistant call the lady in front of her “Mrs Wickham”. She turned to look at the lady, who was perhaps twenty-five years old. The lady had a tall, elegant young man by her side.

Elizabeth could not help thinking that this, perhaps, might be the very Mrs Wickham who had caused all the misunderstandings.

As she thought it, she found herself wondering if Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham had sorted out their problems. She thought that, yes, by now, Mr Darcy must be aware of his mistake. The two men were probably friends once more – or as much friends as they had ever been, for the serious, proud and disdainful Mr Darcy did not have anything truly in common with the frivolous Mr Wickham.

Elizabeth came out of her reverie to find the young woman looking at her and she realised she had been staring.

‘I do beg your pardon,’ she said. ‘I was just caught by your name, which is the same as a gentleman of my acquaintance. But your Mr Wickham is very different to the gentleman of my acquaintance,’ she said, curtseying to the gentleman.

The lady and gentleman looked startled. Then the lady laughed and said, ‘Oh, this is not my husband, this is my cousin. I do not come up to town very often and he kindly offered to show me to the best London shops. I am just choosing a new bonnet and then we are going to Grafton House, where I hope to find some fabric for a new wardrobe. Oh dear!’ she said, as her face fell. ‘You will think me very extravagant, to buy a whole new wardrobe of clothes, but indeed I need them. My old dresses no longer fit me as . . . .’

She coloured as she realised her enthusiasm had run away with her, and almost led her into saying something indelicate.

Elizabeth guessed the reason for her blushes at once. The lady was with child, but did not like to say so.

‘I am sure you will find everything you need,’ said Elizabeth.

‘I do hope so, for I find this shopping very tiring. I am not surprised my husband dislikes it so. But you said you knew a Mr Wickham? I wonder if he can be a relative of my husband. Here you can see my husband.’

She opened the locket hanging round her neck to show Elizabeth his portrait and Elizabeth was horrified to see that it was the man she had met in Meryton.

So Mr Darcy was right! Mr Wickham was married! And he had come to Meryton and acted like a single man, knowing full well he was married. What is more, he had denied it when she had confronted him.

Or, no, to be more accurate, he had not denied it. He had simply allowed her to think that the excuse she put forth – that it must be another Mr Wickham – was the truth.

What a fool he must have thought her, to be so easily deceived, and deceived not once, but twice.

She felt dismayed and ashamed and all the energy rushed out of her.

‘Are you all right?’ came a voice at her elbow. It was Mrs Wickham’s cousin. ‘You look as if you are about to faint.’

‘It is very hot in here,’ said Mrs Wickham sympathetically. ‘I quite feel like fainting myself.’

‘Oh, no, I am quite all right, I do assure you, a momentary dizziness that is all,’ said Elizabeth, quickly rallying.

Fortunately, her horror at seeing the portrait had been misunderstood as horror at thinking she was going to faint.

The footman helped her into a chair, which was set next to the counter, and the assistant brought her a glass of lemonade.

Kitty and Lydia looked round but, seeing that Elizabeth was being attended to, carried on with their discussion of the bonnets in the window.

Elizabeth drank the lemonade to show her gratitude, and thanked everyone for their concern.

Mrs Wickham resumed her shopping and chose two fetching new bonnets. Elizabeth said how becoming they were and the two ladies parted with a friendly farewell.

‘Look at this bonnet!’ said Kitty, showing it to Elizabeth. ‘Is it not perfect? I think I will wear it at Jane’s wedding.’

‘And I will have this one,’ said Lydia boldly.

‘You will have to ask Mama,’ said Lizzy.

‘Pooh! I have enough pin money to buy it for myself,’ said Lydia.

‘I will ask Mama to buy mine. It is far more elegant than yours,’ said Kitty.

They continued to laugh and tease each other as Lydia bought her bonnet and Elizabeth bought a length of ribbon to trim her present bonnet. Then they returned to Grafton House.

Jane looked up as they joined her. She could see by Elizabeth’s face that something had happened, but now was not the time to discuss it. Elizabeth shook her head slightly and Jane returned to the fabric, saying quietly that the satin was very nice but that the silk was finer.

At last she had her way, through virtue of quiet persistence and her Aunt Gardiner’s support. The fabric was purchased, along with several other lengths, and they returned to Gracechurch Street. They all went upstairs to their room, where they removed their outdoor clothes and changed into their indoor shoes.

As soon as Jane and Elizabeth were alone in their room, Jane said, ‘What is it, Lizzy? What has happened?’

‘Oh, Jane, I feel such a fool! Mr Darcy was right all along. Mr Wickham is married! I met his wife at the milliner’s. And to think, I berated Mr Darcy for telling me and then I was foolish enough to believe Mr Wickham when he lied to my face! All those weeks, when he was flirting with me, he had a wife! Oh, that such charm and easy manners should conceal such villainy. And oh! that Mr Darcy’s proud and arrogant manners should conceal so much that is good. For he gave Mr Wickham a chance to tell me the truth, instead of blurting it out to me as he could have done. And then he told me when it became clear that Mr Wickham had no intention of doing so. He did it to protect me! And I refused to believe him. No wonder he left the neighbourhood. He must have been disgusted with me.’

‘No, Lizzy, never that.’

‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth dolefully. ‘I think he must. And small wonder, when I called his integrity into question, for a man as proud as Mr Darcy, that must have been unforgivable. And now I will never have a chance to apologise.’

‘As to that,’ said Jane, ‘I think you might.’

‘How? He has no intention of returning to Netherfield, and our paths will not cross in London. And now he will think he an ungrateful wretch and a dupe, as well as being monstrously rude, and I have no chance to teach him otherwise.’

‘Yes, Lizzy, you do. We are to dine with Mr Bingley tomorrow, as you know. It is to be a large party.’

‘But how will that help?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘Because Mr Bingley wishes to introduce me to more of his London friends. One of them is Miss Darcy, and she will be escorted by her brother.’

‘You mean I will see him tomorrow?’

Jane nodded.

Elizabeth sat down on the bed. She must apologise for her mistake, no matter what it cost her. He would treat her coldly, no doubt, and look down his nose at her but she had no choice. She had done him a great wrong and she was courageous enough and honest enough to acknowledge it.

But she was not looking forward to it.