Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 3 (15 page)

Elizabeth did not sleep well. She was restless and was disturbed by vivid dreams. Some of them were enchanting: she danced at Pemberley, and drove round the grounds, with the handsome steward by her side. Some turned into nightmares, where all the guests started laughing at her and saying, ‘
She
, to marry Mr Darcy? Oh, what a joke!’

She was having one such nightmare when she woke with a start and found herself sitting up in bed with the daylight coming in through the curtains. She was relieved to find herself in her room at the inn, with a jug of steaming hot water standing on the washstand and the familiar furniture welcoming her.

It was early, but she did not want to stay in bed so she washed and dressed and then went out into the countryside for a walk. The servants were already up and busy and said, ‘Good morning’ to her as she passed. The stable boys were attending to the horses and there was an air of bustle as she crossed the stable yard. It helped to distract her from her thoughts.

The wild grandeur of the moors further calmed her spirits, and the act of walking up one of the steep hills that surrounded the inn tired her physically, which further helped to calm her turbulent thoughts. So that by the time she returned to the inn for breakfast, she was beginning to feel a little better.

She went upstairs to refresh herself and then joined her aunt and uncle in the private parlour for breakfast.

Neither of them referred to the events of the previous night and for that she was thankful. It was in the past now, and she must leave it there . . . . even if thoughts of Mr Darcy would insist on intruding from time to time.

She was not hungry but she made an effort to eat. She took tea and cake, and was persuaded by her uncle to eat an egg.

‘Good girl!’ he said approvingly.

‘We have decided to travel as far as Buxton today,’ said Mrs Gardiner. She handed Elizabeth the guide book she had been perusing. ‘It is the highest market town in England and it is famous for its spa. The guide book describes it as the Bath of the north. There is an assembly room and of course there are interesting shops. There is plenty to do and the scenery is magnificent. I am sure we will all enjoy it.’

‘It looks very grand,’ said Elizabeth, examining an illustration in the guide book.

‘Then it is settled,’ said Mrs Gardiner. ‘We will be on our way just as soon as our bags are packed.’

Elizabeth finished her breakfast and went upstairs to help the maid to pack. She took up her ballgown of the night before with mixed feelings. She could feel tears pricking behind her eyes but she did not give way to them. She had had a magical evening and she must be content with that.

At last everything was ready. She went downstairs. The luggage had already been loaded on the roof of the carriage. The horses had been put into harness. It was time to be off.

Mr Darcy could not believe that so much had happened in so little time. His world had been turned upside down not once, but twice.

He managed somehow to get through the rest of the ball, playing the good host to his guests and the polite escort to Miss Bent, but the whole thing had an air of unreality.

At last the guests departed and he had some time to himself. He was exhausted but he could not sleep. He could not bear the idea that the young woman of his dreams thought so badly of him. She had not been delighted to discover who he was – and how well that made him think of her! But at the same time he could not bear to think that he had made her so unhappy. Even worse, she thought it had been a joke. She thought he had been laughing at her.

Who was she? How could he find her? And how could he make amends?

He could ask Mrs Reynolds about her, but he could not do that until a more reasonable hour, and so he pulled off his clothes and climbed into bed.

When he awoke, things seemed brighter. He did not despair of finding his mystery lady and so, having washed and dressed, he went downstairs and sent for Mrs Reynolds. He did not know what he was going to say, but when she stood in front of him he found it was easier than he expected. He was Fitzwilliam Darcy, after all. He did not need to explain himself to the housekeeper, nor did she expect him to. He simply asked her about the Gardiners and their niece, and she told him all about them.

Miss Bennet
, he thought.

So that was how the mistake had occurred.

‘Is anything wrong, Sir?’ she asked. ‘I hope their visit did not cause any inconvenience?’

‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘As you know, Mr Fielding has injured his back and I wanted to make sure that all his duties had been attended to.’

‘I see, Sir. You need have no fear on that score. The Gardiners and Miss Bennet enjoyed their tour of the grounds. Will that be all, Sir?’

‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Reynolds.’

She went out of the room and he thought over everything she had told him. Miss Bennet was staying at the inn at Lambton with her aunt and uncle, so he decided to ride over there and explain matters in person. It would not change anything. His father was determined that he should marry Miss Bent, and with his father in a precarious state of health, he did not dare argue with him. But perhaps it might make Miss Bennet think more kindly of him and it would relieve her of the fear that he had been laughing at her.

He sent a message to the stables, ordering his horse to be readied, and before very much time had passed he set out for the inn. The air was fresh and bracing. The trees were in blossom and there was already warmth in the sun. If he could extricate himself from his engagement to Miss Bent . . . . He stopped himself. Even if such a thing were possible, it would make no difference. Mrs Reynolds had told him that Miss Bennet was the daughter of a country squire, and he knew that his father would never allow him to marry someone from that class. But he still wanted to find her so that he could apologise to her. He hated to think that he had caused her even a moment’s pain. She was very precious to him.

He recalled her face and the sparkle in her eyes. He thought of the conversation they had shared as they walked together in the woods. He thought of the way they had looked directly into each other’s eyes when they danced together, and he felt a huge sense of loss that he could not offer her marriage.

He saw the inn ahead of him and rode into the yard. He dismounted and gave the reins to one of the ostlers, so that his horse could be taken care of. Then he went inside.

The inn was busy. It was a clean establishment, serving good food, and it was always full. He called to the landlord, who came bustling over to greet him.

‘I am looking for Mr Gardiner,’ he said.

He did not mention Miss Bennet’s name because he did not want to give rise to gossip.

‘I’m sorry, Sir. Mr Gardiner’s party left first thing this morning.’

Mr Darcy felt cold fingers clutching at his insides.

‘Where did they go?’ he asked.

‘I’m afraid I don’t know, Sir. They didn’t leave a forwarding address.’

Mr Darcy noticed the landlord looking at him curiously and so he quickly recovered himself.

‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘It was a small matter of business, that is all. I will write to him instead.’

‘Very good, Sir.’

Then Mr Darcy left the inn, and as he did so, he felt he was leaving a part of himself behind him.

Elizabeth made an effort to enjoy herself in Buxton. It had been very good of her aunt and uncle to invite her on their tour and she did not want to spoil it for them by being downcast. So she made a point of going everywhere, even if she did not want to, and she found that by doing so she gradually made herself happier.

The shops in Buxton were excellent and she bought presents for all her family. She bought a shawl for Jane, a book of music for Mary and fans for Lydia and Kitty. She admired the splendid crescent of houses, which had been modelled on the Royal Crescent in Bath, or so the guide book informed her. She drank the waters, which were so awful she screwed her face up in disgust, much to the amusement of her aunt and uncle. She went for long, invigorating walks on the moors and she attended concerts and balls.

It was at one such ball, held at the assembly rooms, that she found herself introduced to a handsome young man by the name of George Wickham. The Master of Ceremonies performed the introduction and then Mr Wickham asked her to dance. He was polite and charming, with a good figure and a handsome face and Elizabeth accepted his hand. They went out on to the floor and they were followed by many eyes, for they made an attractive couple. Mr Wickham bowed with a casual elegance that was very becoming, and Elizabeth curtseyed.

For the first time since her disastrous visit to Pemberley, she did not have to pretend to be enjoying herself, because she was actually doing so. Her grace and charm won admiring glances as she performed the dance, for there was an energy about her steps that the other dancers lacked. Mr Wickham was a good partner. He did not step on her toes, as some of the other gentlemen had done, nor did he bore her with dry conversation, nor yet irritate her with fatuous remarks. He proved himself to be intelligent and well informed and the dance passed very quickly.

After the dance was over, he led her to the side of the floor and made agreeable conversation with her aunt and uncle. At last he left her, but not without arranging to dance with her again later in the evening.

‘I must say, he was an agreeable fellow,’ said Mr Gardiner.

‘Yes, he was,’ said Mrs Gardiner, with a thoughtful glance at Elizabeth. ‘He seemed to find you very charming.’

‘I beg you will not refine too much upon it,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He asked me to dance, that is all, and he is now dancing with an equally charming young lady.’

Mrs Gardiner smiled.

‘It is good to hear you teasing us again, Lizzy,’ she said. ‘I have been sorry to see you so spiritless since leaving Pemberley, but I believe you have at last recovered.’

‘Yes, aunt,’ said Elizabeth dutifully.

But the truth of the matter was that she had still not recovered from her time there. She was sometimes angry and sometimes regretful, but she was never indifferent to the memory of the man who had caused her so much joy and heartache. However, she did not want to burden her aunt with the knowledge. It was her burden, and one she must carry alone.

There was no denying, though, that Mr Wickham made the burden seem lighter. Some well-informed company was just what she needed to make the time pass more pleasantly, and when it came with a handsome face and a good figure as well, then it was doubly welcome.

She retired to the ladies’ withdrawing room to fetch her handkerchief, which she had left in the pocket of her cloak. To her surprise, there was a young woman there, sobbing. The young woman had her face buried in her cloak, which was hanging from a peg, and she did not hear Elizabeth enter the room.

Elizabeth stopped, unsure of how to continue. She really did need her handkerchief but she did not want to intrude. She went over to her cloak quietly, but the young woman heard her and looked round guiltily.

‘I did not mean to disturb you,’ said Elizabeth. She said sympathetically. ‘You are very unhappy. Can I do anything to help?’

‘No. Nobody can help,’ said the young lady.

‘Do you have anyone you can talk to?’ asked Elizabeth. ‘When I am unhappy, I confide in my sister and it helps. Is there someone I can bring to you?’

The young lady shook her head.

‘I am an only child,’ she said.

Elizabeth sat down and prepared to listen, for the sensed the young woman needed to talk to someone.

‘You must thing me very foolish,’ said the young woman, rubbing her eyes.

‘Not at all. I only think you unhappy,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Won’t you tell me what is wrong?’

‘It is Mamma and Papa.’

‘Are they ill?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘No.’ The young woman shook her head and sat down on a chair. ‘They are forcing me to marry a man I barely know.’

‘Oh, that is terrible indeed. Are you very poor?’ asked Elizabeth.

She knew the difficulties of poverty. She was not terribly poor, but neither was she wealthy, and her mother was always trying to find a husband for her and for her sisters. Mrs Bennet did not pay any attention to the Miss Bennets’ opinions. She wanted to see them married and cared little about the gentlemen who courted them. And so Elizabeth sympathised sincerely with the unhappy young woman.

‘No,’ said the young woman, taking out her own handkerchief and dabbing her eyes. ‘On the contrary, I am an heiress, but money must marry money, or so my parents say. Otherwise, I might fall prey to a fortune hunter. But I do not want to marry a man I do not love.’

‘If that is the case, then you must talk to your parents. I am sure they will understand.’

‘It is hopeless,’ she said. ‘I have tried that already and it did no good. They betrothed me against my wishes and now I can see no alternative but to go through with the marriage. It would cause a scandal if I ended the engagement and my mother could not survive the gossip.’

‘You must not let them force you,’ said Elizabeth robustly.

She had a strong personality and she hoped to pass some of her vigour to the young woman.

‘I can see no way out.’ The young woman looked resigned. She started to regain her composure and she splashed her face with fresh water, which had been left on the washstand. She patted her face dry and examined herself in the mirror, then she pinched her cheeks to put a little colour in them. ‘And now I must return to the ball or I will be missed. Thank you for listening.’

She gave a wan smile and then left the room.

Elizabeth shook her head. She felt sorry for the young woman but she had done all she could. She only hoped the young woman would find the strength to stand up to her parents.

It is strange how much unhappiness men can bring in their wake
, thought Elizabeth. She herself had known the misery of being deceived, and the young woman in the cloakroom had known the misery of being forced into a loveless marriage. It showed Elizabeth the pitfalls awaiting the unwary and she found herself wondering why women bothered with men at all. But as she returned to the ballroom, she saw Mr Wickham and she thought that it might be worth all the agony if a woman could find the right man at last.

He looked up and smiled. She returned his smile and then went back to her aunt and uncle.

Her hand was sought by three further gentlemen and she danced with them all, but it was not until she was dancing with Mr Wickham again that she really enjoyed herself. He entertained her with light conversation and he showed an interest in her and her family. In return, he told her that his father had recently removed from Derbyshire, where he had lived for most of his life, down to Devon, having given up his position on account of his health.

‘It is very beautiful countryside down there,’ he said to her. ‘Have you been?’

‘No, I have not,’ she said, as she held her arms gracefully aloft and performed the dance.

‘Perhaps you will see it soon,’ he said.

He gave a warm smile as he said it and there seemed something very particular in his words. Elizabeth felt a happy feeling of confidence because she knew that he liked her.

When he escorted her back to her aunt and uncle, he said that he was putting together a picnic party and wondered if they would care to join him.

‘It will not be too large, about twenty people,’ he said. ‘We are going to drive through the countryside and then find a place to picnic. Everything will be done properly, with tables and chairs for the ladies so they may sit comfortably as they eat. The picnic will end at four o’clock so that everyone will have plenty of time to drive home in the daylight, as some of the guests are coming from far away.’

‘That is most generous of you. We would be glad to accept,’ said Mrs Gardiner.

‘Then I will call upon you will all the details tomorrow, if I may,’ he said.

‘You would be very welcome,’ said Mrs Gardiner.

They exchanged addresses and then he withdrew.

‘Well, that is certainly something to look forward to,’ said Mrs Gardiner, as they left the assembly rooms when the ball had ended.

‘Yes, it is,’ Elizabeth agreed.

She saw her aunt looking at her particularly and said, ‘Yes, I like him. But I know very little about him, and after my last experience I am not inclined to take anyone at face value.’

‘That is very wise,’ said her aunt approvingly. ‘However, I have made some enquiries and Mr Wickham is very well thought of in these parts. He has soon to take holy orders and he is about to come into possession of a very good living. He has a wealthy patron and he will be set up very comfortably.’

‘You mean he is in a position to take a wife,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Have a care, Aunt, you are beginning to sound like Mamma!’

‘I hope I never sound like your mother,’ said Mrs Gardiner. ‘I have spoken to you seriously before on the subject of marriage, Elizabeth, and I must do so again. You have been hurt, I know, and it is understandable that that experience has altered your outlook on life. But you must not allow it to sour you. Mr Wickham is not responsible for Mr Darcy’s transgressions.’

‘I hardly know him, aunt.’

‘That is true, and I am not advising you to do anything rash. Nor am I advising you to be naïve. But I am advising you to put aside your disappointment in one man and allow yourself to like another.’

‘I think I can promise to do that,’ said Elizabeth.

‘Then that is all I ask.’

They returned to their lodgings and wished each other good night. As Elizabeth returned to her room and undressed for the night she thought over the differences between her first meeting with Mr Darcy and with Mr Wickham. With Mr Darcy, she had met him alone and she had only his word he was who he said he was. With Mr Wickham, she had the word of the Master of Ceremonies and the rest of Buxton society. The two situations were completely different, and the two men were completely different.

She would follow her aunt’s advice and allow herself to like Mr Wickham, and then see where it led.