Elizabeth Bennet's Excellent Adventure: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary (8 page)

The gentleman’s frame was square, much in the look of Colonel Fitzwilliam, rather than that of Mr. Darcy’s lanky form. The man’s eyes were a cross between a dark brown and a metal gray. His mouth, set in a tight line, displayed the firmness of his rank: A captain, if Elizabeth correctly recognized the insignias.

When the coach stopped for a change of horses and a stretch of the passengers’ legs, they spoke for the first time.

“May I assist you, Ma’am?”

The officer reached to steady Elizabeth’s balance upon the coach’s narrow steps.

“Thank you, Sir.”

She placed her gloved hand in his and knew a twinge of disappointment that the gentleman’s touch did not affect her composure, as did Mr. Darcy’s. Even when they both wore gloves, Mr. Darcy’s caress of the back of her hand with his thumb always set Elizabeth’s heart fluttering.

“Captain is it not?” she said with practiced politeness.

The officer released her when Elizabeth claimed solid footing. He offered a bow of respect.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

He glanced about as if seeking someone.

“As there appears to be no one about to provide a proper introduction, I pray you will forgive my gauche behavior. I am Captain Wentworth.”

A second bow followed the gentleman’s declaration.

Elizabeth smiled warmly at him.

“Although we should claim propriety, as we are the only two passengers, such appears foolish. We are likely denying ourselves stimulating conversation because of Society’s strictures. I am Mrs. Elizabeth…”

She hesitated, not wishing to use her family name. Instead, she chose a form of the surname of the woman Elizabeth left outside of Watford.

“Mrs. Elizabeth Bryland.”

The captain’s eyebrow rose in curiosity.

“Does your husband not travel with you?”

Elizabeth rushed to say, “Mr. Bryland lost his life upon the Continent. I am newly from my widow’s weeds.”

The idea of being a widow appealed to Elizabeth for travel purposes, but the idea of creating a story of a lost husband and family was not to her liking. She always considered herself an honest person. In fact, speaking her mind often vexed her dear mother and sisters.
Yet, Mr. Darcy found your quick tongue refreshing
. The thought of her former betrothed brought a frown to her mouth.

“I can see you still grieve for the late Mr. Bryland,” the captain said in concern.

Elizabeth shook off her thoughts of Mr. Darcy.

“I do,” she murmured, and then with a squaring of her shoulders, she added, “I believe I shall walk along the road for a bit. I fear I am unaccustomed to a sedentary life.”

“Do you desire my company?” the captain offered.

“I assure you, Sir, I am stout enough for a steady walk. I thank you for your concern.”

Captain Wentworth smiled easily at her.

“I hold no doubt, Ma’am.”

He glanced to where the grooms brought fresh horse to harness to the coach.

“Do not go far. The coach will not wait for you, and I would dislike being denied your ‘stimulating conversation.’”

* * *

It was a full day before Darcy stepped down before the Gardiners’ Town house in Cheapside. His sister objected to Darcy’s leaving his bed so soon, but after receiving the colonel’s express, Darcy waited only long enough for proper calling hours before he rapped upon the Gardiners’ door.

Darcy refused the laudanum the physician ordered for he did not like the way the opiate ripped control from his hands. As he waited for one of the Gardiners’ servants to respond, Darcy shifted his weight to better tolerate the pain in his chest. It was difficult to breathe. Moreover, his cheeks and chin and much of his body held bruises in various shades of green and purple.

“Yes, Sir?”

A familiar maid bobbed a curtsy.

He kept his chin down so the girl could not observe his battered face.

“Mr. Darcy to speak to Mr. Gardiner,” he announced.

Darcy would prefer to speak to Elizabeth first, but he knew he must assuage her family’s ire before they would summon Elizabeth to speak to him.

“I be sorry, Sir,” the maid said with a look of unease, and Darcy wondered if the Gardiners meant to send him away. “Mr. Gardiner be not at home.”

Darcy sighed heavily.

“Then might I speak to Mrs. Gardiner?”

“The mistress be not at home either, Sir,” the girl pronounced.

Darcy attempted a third approach.

“Perhaps Miss Elizabeth is available.”

The maid’s features crunched up in confusion.

“The master’s niece not be within, Sir, since the lady’s return to Mr. Bennet’s home more than a month removed.”

It was Darcy’s turn to know puzzlement.

“I received word from Hertfordshire late yesterday stating that Miss Elizabeth rejoined the Gardiners’ household a week prior,” he insisted. “It is of the utmost importance I speak to the Gardiners or Miss Elizabeth. I mean to wait.”

The girl blocked Darcy’s forced entrance into the house.

“I beg your pardon, Sir, but I cannot permit your presence in the master’s house without Mr. Gardiner present. If you care to call the beginning to the next week, I be certain the master will entertain your urgency.”

Darcy’s frown deepened.

“Why next week? Are the Gardiners from London? I understood your master departed Hertfordshire after…”

He would not say the words: The ones that announced the failure of his wedding day.

“The master and mistress,” the maid declared in self importance, “attended the wedding of their niece and then they were to Oxfordshire for the christening of the mistress’s grandnephew. They’ll return within the week.”

Darcy thought an error occurred, but it did not appear to be at the Gardiners’ hands. Did the Bennets practice some sort of deception? He must uncover with whom the error rested before Darcy could discover the whereabouts of his wayward fiancée.

Returning to Darcy House, he wrote to Bingley to ascertain whether his friend held knowledge of Elizabeth’s leaving Longbourn. The express from his cousin said the colonel spoke to Mr. Bennet and explained to Elizabeth’s father that Darcy still meant to meet his obligation to the Bennet’s second daughter.

Fitzwilliam’s letter described the hostility the colonel experience at Mr. Bennet’s hands, but the colonel indicated that he thought Bennet would hold no objection to Darcy’s renewal of his intentions as long as Elizabeth knew satisfaction.

“Mayhap Bingley knows something of Elizabeth’s absence from Hertfordshire. If Elizabeth chose to confide in anyone, it would be Miss Bennet, and the lady would confide in Bingley,” Darcy reasoned aloud as he constructed the hasty note to Bingley. “That is assuming Mr. Bennet did not offer the colonel a deceit.”

Darcy remained unconvinced that Elizabeth was not under her father’s roof.

* * *

“You may experience difficulty discovering an appropriate hotel for a woman of your station,” Captain Wentworth explained as they shared a late afternoon meal at their last stop before reaching Portsmouth.

The gentleman assumed the role of Elizabeth’s protector after two more passengers joined them in Reading. She knew gratitude at the captain’s thoughtfulness.

“You know Portsmouth, Captain?” Elizabeth asked as she poured the gentleman more tea.

“I sailed in and out of the port more times than I care to remember. It is a difficult maneuver if a man is not familiar with the sound. I am to meet up with two of my junior officers. We take possession of a new ship. I mean to enjoy what society Portsmouth has to offer before I return to the war.”

The man hesitated, and Elizabeth wondered of the brief glimpse of desolation she discovered in the captain’s eyes.

“I would be honored, Ma’am, if you would permit me to escort you upon the town and to give you the acquaintance of Commander and Mrs. Harville and Commander Benwick.”

Elizabeth paused to consider the prudence of accepting the captain’s offer. She knew little of the man other than what Wentworth shared, and Elizabeth learned a hard lesson from Mr. Darcy regarding first, second, and third impressions. Even so, she trusted the captain’s sincerity: A man of Wentworth’s consequence was not the type to play a woman unfairly.

“Yours is the best offer I had today,” she teased.

“If another offers you his escort,” the captain responded with a twinkle in his eye, “I must prime my dueling pistols. I claimed your company first, Mrs. Bryland, and I am not of the persuasion to share you with rascals.”

The return letter from Bingley
did little to allay Darcy’s qualms regarding Elizabeth’s disappearance. In confidence, Bingley questioned Mr. Bennet’s coachman, who swore he delivered Elizabeth to the Gardiners’ home. Mr. Lester explained how he thought it odd that Elizabeth asked to disembark in the mews behind the Gardiners’ Town house and how she did not permit Lester to carry her bags into her uncle’s home.

“What deceptions do you practice, Elizabeth Bennet?” Darcy murmured as her reread Bingley’s message.

With a sigh of resignation, Darcy sent Bingley a reply. He offered his friend his gratitude and praised Bingley’s initiative in the matter. Darcy again assured Bingley, and likewise Elizabeth’s family via Miss Bennet that Darcy’s affections for Elizabeth remained unchanged, and then he asked Bingley another favor.

If possible, keep your inquiries from the Bennets. I do not wish to alarm Miss Elizabeth’s father if what I suspect proves true. Moreover, please ascertain if Mr. Lester stopped at any of the available inns to change horses or to permit Miss Elizabeth a stretch of her legs. I require a starting place in my search for my betrothed.

* * *

“I could not,” Elizabeth protested when Mrs. Harville offered Elizabeth a room in the house the woman and Harville let.

“What of Commander Benwick?”

“Benwick may stay with me,” Captain Wentworth declared. “I will take rooms at the inn upon Cornwall Street. Benwick cannot remain with the Harvilles once Fanny returns from Devon.”

In the introductions, Elizabeth learned that Commander Benwick meant to make Fanny Harville his wife once the gentleman earned his fortune. Elizabeth thought the situation quite romantic, which did not please her stubborn disposition of late. Until she received Mr. Darcy’s letter, Elizabeth never considered herself the romantic type. She was not of Charlotte Collins’s pragmatic nature, but Elizabeth did not consider love possible. Although she often professed the notion that only the deepest love would persuade her into matrimony, Elizabeth knew marriages were rarely based upon deep affection, and the thought of all her losses brought the return of maudlin to her chest.

“You must permit us to serve you, Mrs. Bryland,” Mrs. Harville pressed. “You are alone in Portsmouth, and even a widow is susceptible to those who speak half truths or practice pretexts.”

Elizabeth thought again of Mr. Darcy and how easily the gentleman manipulated her.

“If you insist, Mrs. Harville,” Elizabeth acquiesced. “I shall be grateful for your kindness.”

* * *

“Are you certain the lady in question asked you to locate a hackney?” Darcy asked the young groom.

Darcy made a call upon the mews behind Gardiners’ home.

“Aye, Sir. The lady gives me a coin fer findin’ the hack and another to ’ssist with her bags.”

Darcy knew admiration at Elizabeth’s stealth. His future wife was quite resourceful.

Darcy presented the youth one of his cards. He did not think the boy could read, but there were others about who could.

“If you find the same hackney driver and bring him to the directions on that card, there will be more than a shilling for each of you. Do you understand?”

“Aye, Sir. I knows the driver well.”

Darcy said in warning, “I am not a patient man. If I do not hear from you by today’s end, I will no longer be generous.”

* * *

His threat worked. Within three hours, the coachman and the groom called in at the servant entrance to Darcy House. Darcy stepped outside to speak to the pair, and within a half hour of their departure, he was on his way to the coaching inn some ten miles outside of London proper.

“Then you recall the lady?” Darcy asked the innkeeper.

“Many travelers pass through these doors, Mr. Darcy,” the man said in self-importance. “I cannot recall them all.”

Irritated by the man’s ploy for payment, Darcy ‘suggested’ in his best Master of Pemberley voice, “Perhaps you should look at your coaching log four days prior. I do not imagine many unchaperoned females claim passage upon the line coming in and out of Hertfordshire.”

Grumbling, the innkeeper found the page upon which he recorded the fares.

“Ah, here be two among the passengers.”

Darcy swallowed his impatience.

“And which is the lady I seek?”

“Can’t be certain, Sir. I recall these two. One purchased her fare early on and returned later.”

Darcy thought that made sense if Mr. Lester stopped at the inn. Elizabeth could travel the distance to the Gardiners’ house and be back at the inn in a little over two hours, three at the most.

“The lady said something of business in her late husband’s name,” the innkeeper continued. “Purchased the fare to Brighton.”

Brighton.
Darcy’s heart slammed into his ribs.
Reportedly, Mr. Wickham was in Brighton with the militia. Did Elizabeth seek a reunion with Darcy’s long-time enemy?
He had yet to relay what he knew of Wickham to Elizabeth.
Was she in the dastard’s embrace at this moment?

“And the other woman?” Darcy asked.

He prayed there was a logical explanation for Elizabeth’s disappearance other than a renewal of her connection to George Wickham.

“The cook for the local vicar. Mrs. Bylane and her wee ones were off to reunite with her sailor husband. Purchased fare for Portsmouth.”

Darcy calculated the chances of Elizabeth traveling to Portsmouth and rejected the idea.

“It appears I am to Brighton,” he murmured before slipping a coin into the innkeeper’s hand. “At any rate, Fitzwilliam is in Brighton. My cousin can assist in my search,” he confirmed as he returned to his coach. “Perhaps, the colonel will agree to serve as my second when I put a bullet through Mr. Wickham’s deceitful heart.”

* * *

Elizabeth adored Millie Harville’s generosity; the woman reminded Elizabeth of Jane, except this “Jane” possessed the backbone of Lady Catherine De Bourgh. Some of what the woman shared shocked Elizabeth’s virginal awareness, and she had to remind herself that “Widow Bryland” would know something of a man’s lust.

“Ye blush as prettily as an innocent,” Mrs. Harville declared when Commander Harville entered the small parlor wearing nothing but his trousers and a shirt.

“My…my late husband,” Elizabeth stammered, “guarded my experiences.”

“I meant no offense, Ma’am,” Harville offered. “Ye be so quiet like your presence slipped my mind.”

“It is your home, Commander,” Elizabeth said judiciously. “I present you no censure.”

“Commander Harville and Commander Benwick are most anxious to return to the sea,” Mrs. Harville explained in a change of subject. “They expect the war to know an end soon.”

Harville agreed, “The prize purses be harder to come by with Napoleon finding himself a grave. Benwick wishes to marry my sister, and we both hope for a promotion before we retire on half pay.”

“I do not wish Thomas to return,” Mrs. Harville admitted. “But a man must feed his pride.”

Elizabeth considered how she attacked Mr. Darcy’s pride with her refusal and how the gentleman shredded her pride with his absence.

“I am of the persuasion that a woman’s pride can be as easily wounded,” Elizabeth declared.

“Aye,” Millie Harville was quick to add.

“Yet, a man’s pride is the skeleton of his very being,” Harville insisted. “Some men possess the favorable side of pride. They know the discipline to recognize what is just and act upon the way God would wish them to perform. A man with ‘good’ pride is vulnerable to shame and to failure because dignity and self respect define him.”

Elizabeth felt the rush of tears and worked hard to blink them away.

“And what of the sin of pride?” she asked softly.

Commander Harville tapped his chin with steepled fingers.

“Such pride displays a lack of character. Although pride is his motivation, a man of this demeanor knows no personal satisfaction. Because such a man stands in isolation, he can know no humility. He deceives himself in his worth. He invokes no loyalty in his dealings with others. A man who takes his delight in worldly self-fulfillment and in self-pity and in self-conceit cannot present God with the credit for the good in his life. A proud man is never a grateful man for when he does not receive what he believes he deserves, he blames others.”

Despite her best efforts Elizabeth recognized Mr. Darcy possessed the first rank of pride, while Mr. Wickham held the marks of the evil of pride.

“My dearest sister Mary is fond of saying that vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves; vanity, to what we would have others think of us.”

Why did Elizabeth not listen to Mary’s advice? Perhaps if she had she would not have disparaged Mr. Darcy to her dear family. Miss Bingley told Jane that the gentleman was remarkably agreeable with his intimate acquaintances, but because Mr. Darcy mortified her pride–her self-pitying pride–with his snub at the Meryton assembly, she claimed an offense. If she only recognized her attraction to the man…

“If you will pardon me.” Elizabeth stood to make her leave. “I find the journey was more tiring than I expected.”

“Certainly,” Mrs. Harville agreed. “Do not forget Captain Wentworth and Commander Benwick plan to join us early. We will be a happy party taking in the sights of old Portsmouth.”

“I shall be quite prepared,” Elizabeth said with a show of enthusiasm, but as she left the Harvilles to their devices, she questioned the sensibility of her impetuous adventure. Elizabeth hoped for a bit of retribution for Mr. Darcy’s rejection, but she discovered her manipulations in alignment with Mr. Wickham’s attempts to discredit Mr. Darcy. Moreover, she did not understand why even after all that passed between them that she did not despise Mr. Darcy.

* * *

“I tell you, Darcy,” the colonel declared in adamant tones, “I followed Wickham about the town for three days, and the steward’s son has not met with Miss Elizabeth.”

Darcy discovered his cousin at a familiar inn in Brighton. The Earl and Countess of Matlock often took rooms at the inn when they attended events hosted by the Prince Regent.

“But the innkeeper was certain Miss Elizabeth purchased a ticket to Brighton,” Darcy protested.

“Did the man observe Miss Elizabeth board the coach?” Fitzwilliam countered.

Darcy jammed his fingers into his hair in frustration.

“I did not ask, and the innkeeper did not volunteer the information,” he admitted.

A long silence followed before Darcy asked, “Is there a chance Miss Elizabeth is in the town without Mr. Wickham’s knowledge?”

The colonel appeared as confused as Darcy.

“Most assuredly, it is possible. Mayhap your betrothed no longer seeks the connection to those from Meryton. Surely some of the militia are aware of your absence from the ceremony. I would not imagine Miss Elizabeth would wish to encounter possible censure,” the colonel reasoned.

Darcy accepted the obvious.

“I must know without a doubt whether she is here.”

The colonel nodded his understand.

“We will begin a search after breaking our fasts on the morrow. We will call upon each inn, boarding establishment, and hotel. If Miss Elizabeth is in Brighton, we will discover her.”

* * *

“What would you care to see, Mrs. Bryland?” Captain Wentworth asked with a proffered arm.

Elizabeth slid her hand about his elbow.

“I am delighted simply to visit a new place. I am at your disposal, Sir. What do you suggest?”

“Do not ask Wentworth his preference,” Commander Harville teased, “or we will spend the day watching the ships building the new breakwaters.”

“Such sounds fascinating,” Elizabeth admitted.

“Perhaps the first time one views it,” Harville continued his taunt. “Or even the first hour upon occasion.”

“I am not obsessed,” Wentworth protested good-naturedly.

“Mayhap on another day, Captain,” Elizabeth suggested, “you might show me the works.”

“You will regret your choice, Mrs. Bryland,” Harville protested with a hand to his heart in a mocked wounding. “Wentworth is a thinking man and a man who enjoys history. Trust me, the captain will shower you with the dimension and armaments of every ship in port.”

Elizabeth smiled at the easy camaraderie between the men.

“I can think of more miserable ways to spend an afternoon. I once listened to a particular young lady extol the qualities of a truly accomplished woman. Surely Captain Wentworth’s vast knowledge of ship will be more interesting than the insipidity of the perfect lady.”

“And what are the characteristics of a truly accomplished woman?” Mrs. Harville asked with a mischievous smile.

Elizabeth laughed lightly.

“Permit me to quote the lady.”

She assumed the same stance as had Caroline Bingley when Miss Bingley attempted to entice Mr. Darcy.