Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 3 (21 page)

Elizabeth looked out of the carriage window with curiosity as they arrived in Ramsgate. Her interest was not sparked by the bustling harbour or the sailing ships or the sight of the sea. It was sparked by something quite different, for this was where Mr Wickham had tried to elope with Miss Darcy.

‘What is it?’ asked Jane, seeing her sister’s unusual concentration.

Elizabeth had told Jane something of the incident but she had not gone into any great detail. When they went into the inn where they were to stay the night, however, she told Jane that this had been the very place from which Mr Wickham had intended to elope.

‘I do not wish to be uncharitable, but I am glad we will never see him again,’ said Jane. ‘By the time we return, the militia will have left Meryton and removed to Brighton, and Mr Wickham will be with them.’

‘You could never be uncharitable,’ said Elizabeth to her sister affectionately. ‘I, too, am glad we will not have to see Mr Wickham again. He took advantage of Miss Darcy’s youth and inexperience and he toyed with her affections. She was almost alone here and away from the protection of her family. Her companion and the few servants she had with her should have been enough to keep her safe, but when her companion turned out to be Mr Wickham’s friend then Miss Darcy’s fortune was in jeopardy.’

‘Not only her fortune, but her whole life,’ said Jane. ‘If Mr Wickham had succeeded in his plan then she would have been ruined.’

‘Yes, she would,’ agreed Elizabeth. ‘Perhaps not morally ruined, for Mr Wickham intended to marry her, but she would have soon learnt her mistake. I have no doubt that the handsome and charming suitor would have quickly disappeared once they were married and the true Mr Wickham, a vain and selfish villain, would have emerged.’

‘Then let us be thankful Mr Darcy found out in time,’ said Jane.

‘Yes indeed.’

Elizabeth could not think of Mr Darcy with any degree of comfort, for thoughts of him produced conflicting emotions. She was still angry with him for having proposed to her in such an insulting fashion, but she had to admit that he was a good brother and that he loved his sister sincerely. He had spoken of Georgiana lovingly when they were at Rosings and although it was difficult to believe, she knew that he was a man who had a warm heart beneath his arrogant breast – at least where his sister was concerned.

But I could have valued his attachment to
his
sister more, if he had he not wounded
my
sister
, she thought.

They dined in a private parlour that evening and went early to bed, for they needed to rise early in order to board the ship, which travelled with the morning tide.

Elizabeth woke to the sound of seagulls cawing and the lapping of the water as it plashed against the harbour wall. It was exciting to be by the coast. As she ate her breakfast she looked out of the window at all the sights of a busy port. There were sailors tying thick ropes to mooring posts. There were tall sailing ships coming into the harbour, their white sails billowing in the breeze. There were horse-drawn carts clattering across the cobbles as they carried supplies to the ships, which were speedily loaded on board. There were seagulls wheeling overhead, uttering their distinctive cries, and there was a smell of salt as the wind carried the scent of the ocean in through the cracks in the window frame.

Elizabeth was so engrossed that she did not immediately notice that her mother had stopped talking, for she had managed to screen out the incessant chatter. But she could not mistake her mother’s noisy exclamation as Mrs Bennet said, ‘What is that disagreeable man doing here?’

Elizabeth looked in the direction of her mother’s gaze and saw a familiar figure appearing from behind one of the sailing ships. His greatcoat was flapping around his ankles and blowing open to show his black tailcoat and cream breeches beneath.

Her heart skipped a beat. If she had accepted him, she could now be engaged to Mr Darcy. What would her mother have said then!

He walked along the quay and then joined another gentleman whom Elizabeth recognised.

‘That is his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam,’ she said. ‘They were both at Rosings Park and now I suppose Mr Darcy is wishing his cousin well, for the Colonel must be travelling to the Continent.’

‘A Colonel, you say?’ asked Mrs Bennet. ‘If he is bound for the Continent he must be going to Brussels. I wonder if he will be travelling on our ship? I would not say no to a smart young Colonel for one of my girls.’

She looked significantly at Kitty, who blushed and giggled, then cast a less hopeful glance at Mary and sighed.

‘No. I do not believe we are to have the honour of the Colonel’s company,’ said Jane. ‘See, he is boarding one of the troop ships.’

They all looked out of the window at the back of the retreating Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was being swallowed up in a mass of red coats.

‘Oh, yes.’ Mrs Bennet was evidently disappointed. But then she brightened. ‘However, we will be sure to see him in Brussels and then you must introduce us, Elizabeth.’

Elizabeth had no desire to do any such thing but she thought it wiser not to say so. Mrs Bennet became peevish when crossed, and Elizabeth had no wish to endure her mother’s ill humour for the length of the sea crossing.

They were soon joined by Mr and Mrs Gardiner, who had travelled with them from London. Mr and Mrs Gardiner had been out early that morning to learn the precise arrangements for boarding the ship. Mr Gardiner explained everything to the ladies and asked them all to return to their rooms to collect their things.

The last thing Elizabeth saw through the window, as she rose from the table, was the sight of the Darcy carriage rolling past and heading out of Ramsgate.

So Mr Darcy had departed, after seeing his cousin on his way.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

She had had a few uncomfortable moments as she thought she might bump into him as she boarded the ship. But now she was safe and she could relax, for the English Channel would soon be between them and there would be no chance of her seeing him again.

Mr Darcy saw his cousin off on the troop ship and then returned to the civilian packet ship that was to carry him to Ostend. He had embarked with his sister half an hour before and then left her there while he bid farewell to his cousin and sent his carriage back to Pemberley, for he would be using his aunt’s carriage when he was in Brussels. But now he boarded the packet ship and went down below to see that Georgiana had everything she needed.

She was seated in her private cabin with her companion, a respectable lady by the name of Mrs Annesley. She was looking a trifle nervous and Mr Darcy was not surprised, since Ramsgate held unpleasant memories for her. It was in Ramsgate that Mr Wickham had tried to elope with her. As he thought of Mr Wickham, his anger rose inside him once again. That villain had almost ruined Georgiana’s happiness for ever.

And Miss Elizabeth Bennet had been his friend, Mr Darcy thought bitterly.

No matter how much he tried to avoid thinking about Elizabeth, there was always something to remind him of her.

How could she like a scoundrel like that? Although, he admitted, she had not known of Mr Wickham’s villainy.

His thoughts towards her softened for a moment. He remembered her as she had looked, not at their disastrous meeting in the parsonage, but at Rosings Park. He remembered how she had teased him, smiling up at him with that particularly attractive smile that was part impertinence and part challenge. How he wished that things could have gone differently between them. If so, he could not be engaged to her and about to marry her.

Perhaps he had been at fault . . . But no! Of course not. How could he be at fault? He was Mr Darcy of Pemberley.

And yet her words stung him. Perhaps his proposal had been rude. Perhaps he should have said less about her family’s faults and more about her own virtues. Perhaps he should not have blamed her for befriending Mr Wickham, since she had not known the truth about the man, and since she would have behaved very differently if she had known about it, he was sure.

‘We will soon be setting sail,’ said Mrs Annesley. ‘Would you like to go on deck, Miss Darcy?’

‘Not yet, I thank you,’ she said. ‘I think I will make a sketch of the cabin first. I would like to have something to show my aunt when we reach Brussels.’

Georgiana’s words brought him out of his thoughts.

‘There will be better subjects for your pencil than this cabin,’ said Mr Darcy.

‘Perhaps. But I should like to have a series of sketches as a record of the journey.’

‘That is a good notion,’ he said. ‘I will sit with you for a while. I like to see you draw.’

‘In that case, I will add you to the picture,’ said Georgiana with a smile.

She took out her pencils and began to sketch the proud visage of the man in front of her. She caught his noble forehead and his firm jaw, and she made a very creditable attempt at his fashionable clothes. She had just reached his boots when she felt a lurch and almost dropped her pencil.

‘The sailors have cast off,’ said Mr Darcy. ‘We are on our way.’

Up on deck, Elizabeth and her family were watching the coast of England slip away as the beautiful ship set sail for the Continent. A stiff breeze was blowing and there was a swell on the water. Jane, Kitty and Mrs Bennet did not like the movement of the ship and soon went below. Mr and Mrs Gardiner remained on deck with Elizabeth and Mary.

While Mr and Mrs Gardiner reviewed the practical arrangements, reassuring themselves that nothing had been forgotten, Mary read passages from a learned book about Napoleon which she clutched in her hands. A sudden pitching of the ship caused Mary to drop the book, and one of the young gentleman standing in a group close by picked it up for her.

‘This is interesting reading,’ he said, as he handed it back to her.

‘I like to be well informed,’ said Mary gravely.

‘An unusual thought for a young lady, but a refreshing one,’ said the gentleman. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr Manningham.’

He turned to include the Gardiners in the introduction and soon the four of them were talking together. To Elizabeth’s surprise, she saw Mary blush and she thought how pretty her sister looked with some colour in her cheeks, for usually Mary’s complexion was sallow.

Poor Mary was not favoured with beauty like her sister, Jane, nor was she favoured with a lively wit like Elizabeth. She was not boisterous and her mother’s favourite, like Lydia, or anyone’s special friend, as Kitty was Lydia’s special friend. She was just Mary: the not very clever and not very pretty member of the family. But away from her family circle, on a deck with very few ladies and quite a few gentlemen, she began to quietly shine.

Elizabeth saw it and was happy for her sister. She herself knew heartache, and so did Jane. Perhaps Mary would turn out to be the lucky member of the family after all.

Elizabeth was just feeling glad that the Gardiners had been able to invite Mary on the trip when she saw something out of the corner of her eye that startled her. No. It could not be. But it was.

It was Mr Wickham.

She felt herself grow hot with annoyance. How did he come to be on the packet ship? And how could she avoid him? He emerged from below as his usual smiling self. But his smirking face, which had charmed her only a few short weeks before, now seemed smug and deceitful. She thought of everything Mr Darcy had told her about him and she wondered how she could have been so mistaken about him. She thought, too, of the way he had paid attention to Mary King when Miss King had inherited a considerable sum of money. How mercenary he had been! It made her ashamed of having ever liked him.

Miss King’s family had soon seen what he was about and they had wisely sent her away to stay with relatives in a distant part of the country.

At that moment he saw her and made his way across the deck towards her. She bit her lip in vexation. But it could not be avoided. He approached her and greeted her with a smile and a bow. To her horror, she realised her meant to pick up where he had left off, before he had switched his attentions to Miss King. It was mortifying to think that he believed her so infatuated that she would welcome his attentions once again.

She cut him off with a curt reply and stepped past him in order to go to the steps that led down to the cabins, but a sudden swell of the waves made the ship pitch and she stumbled against him. He put his arms around her to steady her and before she could release herself from his embrace, to her immense horror, she saw another gentleman she recognised just coming on to deck. It was Mr Darcy!

She could not believe it. Her mortification was complete. To be forced to meet Mr Wickham had been bad enough. To listen to his simpering compliments had been humiliating, and to stagger against him had been terrible. She would not have believed that things could get any worse. But they had!

She prayed that Mr Darcy would not see her, but even now he was turning his head towards her. He started, then his expression changed. A curl of the lip showed her that he had seen her and she wanted the ground to swallow her up when she saw the look of disgust on his face.