Unforgiving Temper (59 page)

“Miss Eliza, I hear that your youngest sister
has married Mr. Wickham. And only 16! Are we to have the
pleasure of their company at the wedding?” The hint of satisfaction
in her voice was unmistakable as she turned to Darcy. “He was the
son of your father's steward, was he not?”

Darcy's mouth tightened into a thin line as
he glanced in Elizabeth's direction. “Yes, he was, but I have had
little contact with him since my father died.”

Elizabeth had no doubt as to the real target
of the spiteful comment. Without hesitation, she rose to the
challenge. “My sister and her husband are unable to attend,
Miss Bingley. They removed to Newcastle shortly after their
marriage. The distance and duties of his new position make the
journey impossible.”

“What a pity,” Caroline lamented. “I so
wanted to wish them happy. Perhaps there will be another time?”

“Perhaps.”

“Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed, instantly pulling
the conversation in his direction again. “I cannot believe you made
the ride from Pemberley to Netherfield in just
two
days! I
did not expect you until tomorrow at the very earliest.”

“Good roads and good weather make it an easy
distance. When my business was concluded sooner than I had
anticipated, I saw no reason to delay my departure.” Darcy glanced
towards Elizabeth as he spoke, but she had already averted her
eyes.

Tea and refreshments arrived soon thereafter,
giving a welcome diversion to the party. Still, the visit to
Netherfield passed slowly. Elizabeth wasn't sure whether she wished
to leave as soon as good manners would allow, or to stay forever
just so she could hear the occasional rumble of his voice. The
visit seemed to stretch into an eternity of sheer willpower. She
was determined to give Jane the time with Mr. Bingley that had
been hoped for.

As the afternoon wore on, Elizabeth slowly
began to recover from the shock of Mr. Darcy's unexpected
appearance. This first meeting had proved to be much more difficult
than she had ever imagined; but she had survived in spite of his
every word and action that reminded her of what was forever lost.
For Jane's sake, she endeavored to act the part of indifferent
acquaintance to the man who had wholly captured her heart.

By the time she and Jane were finally on
their way back to Longbourn, the strain of the visit had given
Elizabeth a throbbing headache. She laid her head back against the
cushions, pressing her fingertips to her temples as Jane's anxiety
spilled out in a torrent of words.

“Oh, Lizzy! I am so sorry! I had no idea
Mr. Darcy would be there or I would never have persuaded you
to come. I can only imagine how dreadful it was for you.”

“There was nothing you could do,” Elizabeth
sighed wearily. “You did not know – evidently nobody knew until the
very last minute.” She let her hands drop to her lap. “It had to
happen sooner or later. At least there were very few people to
witness it. I only wish Caroline Bingley had not been one of them.
That woman is insufferable!”

“Charles has promised to speak to her. She
should not have pressed you so.”

“It matters little, really. There will always
be a Caroline Bingley somewhere. I shall have to learn to live with
it.”

After some moments, Jane broke the silence
that had settled between them.

“Lizzy – are you absolutely certain? About
Mr. Darcy, I mean. I did not detect any signs of ill favor
toward you. Perhaps you are mistaken.”

“No, you would not see any impropriety on
Mr. Darcy's part. He was all politeness, but I saw the disgust
on his face when Lydia and Wickham were mentioned, however brief it
was. He is too much of a gentleman to be anything other than civil
in company; but that is all he can be, I am convinced. Lydia's
marriage prevents anything more.”

* * * *

“Darcy, what is it you want? You have had
several opportunities on our visits to Longbourn this past week and
you have done nothing to advance your cause with
Miss Elizabeth.”

“I want her love, Bingley.”

“Which I am certain you have. Jane will not
betray her sister's trust, but every indication would suggest you
have it.”

Darcy stared into the fire, nudging a stray
ember back into the flame with the toe of his boot.

“Do I?” he wondered aloud. “Or is it merely a
sense of gratitude? Do not forget I misread her meaning once
before.”

“I cannot believe you are being so thick
headed about this! Of course it is affection!”

“I wish I could be as confident as you are.
Had she not discovered my part in the marriage of her sister and
Wickham, I might have agreed with you; but now that she is aware of
it, I am doubtful.”

“Doubtful?! I should never have said
anything! Jane warned me, but I…listen, Darcy; her knowing does not
really change anything.”

“Yes, it does! Can you not see it? She does
not enjoy my company. She is reticent and withdrawn when I come
anywhere near her. In fact, she tries to
avoid
my company,
and when I do manage to engage her, she speaks very little. I do
not understand.”

“I do not think it is you, Darcy. Her mother
has
everyone
on edge with the wedding. It will be a relief
to have tomorrow done with.” Charles came to stand beside his
friend. “You said yourself that things were going well between you
two in London. It cannot have changed that much in these few
weeks.”

“For me, it has not. You know my feelings
well enough; but I fear I was too eager in London and have
frightened her off. She was not ready. I knew I should have waited.
It is just that I nearly went mad when I thought I was going to
lose her, and I wanted so desperately to make her safe. I would
have, too; had Wickham not spoiled my plans by running off with her
sister.”

“Yes, but you managed to catch him in his own
snare with that one. That should have had a positive effect.”

“I cannot tell what effect it has had.”

“Miss Elizabeth is a sensible woman,
Darcy. You have salvaged her sister's reputation and saved the
entire family from ruin; you have forced a scoundrel to be
accountable and given him as much respectability as can be done;
and you have sacrificed much to bring Jane and me together. She
cannot help but admire you.”

Darcy peered into Bingley's face, a quiet
desperation etching his features. “That is precisely what I am
talking about, Charles! I do not want admiration – or gratitude for
what has been done. I want her love, pure and simple.”

“Must she have only love without the other?
It seems to me that they are all connected. Love is a sum of its
parts.”

“If only I could be sure.”

“I will give you your own words, my friend.
Is it not better to know for certain what her feelings are than to
live the rest of your life wondering what could have been? Ask her!
Go to her and ask her. It is the only way you will know.”

Darcy's lips twitched at the reference to his
own advice. It had worked for Bingley and Jane. Would it do the
same for him?

“I suppose you are right.”

“I know I am right!” Bingley smirked
encouragingly. “Now it is late and we have a busy day ahead of us
tomorrow. When I return from my honeymoon trip, I expect to hear
great things.”

“Oh, Lizzy,” whispered Kitty excitedly, “You
will never guess who is here!”

“Hush, Kitty! Jane and Papá are coming.”
Elizabeth's quiet admonition was accompanied by Mary's silent,
disapproving look as they turned to watch Jane and their father
coming down the aisle.

Elizabeth watched her beloved sister's
progress, forcing a deep quelling breath against the sudden tears
that filled her eyes. Jane was absolutely radiant in a dress of
fine white muslin, a soft silk shawl, white shot with lavender and
embossed with white-satin flowers draped across her shoulders.
Matching lavender ribbons decorated her bonnet and the small
nosegay of creamy white roses and violets from Netherfield's
hothouses completed the picture of Jane's utter perfection. If
anyone had the slightest doubt as to Mr. Bingley's opinion,
they had only to look at his mesmerized expression. In spite of the
tears, Elizabeth could not help the smile that played at her
lips.

No less amazing was her father's dashing
figure beside Jane. His new suit of clothes, cut to accommodate his
frame which had been drastically altered by the months of
recuperation, was an excellent fit; and even though he leaned
heavily on his cane, his halted step was not nearly so evident as
he had feared it would be. His concern regarding a public
exhibition of his infirmity had been for naught in this particular
instance, for every eye in the church was firmly fixed upon his
most beautiful daughter.

Every eye except Elizabeth's – and Kitty's,
which was still fixed upon the assembly. “But Lizzy,” she
persisted, “Lydia is here, and Mr. Wickham with her!”

Elizabeth's joyful smile froze. “What?!”

“There, near the back,” Kitty nodded her
head.

With growing dread, Elizabeth's eyes swiftly
scanned the large group of well-wishers in the crowded chapel.
Could it be true?
It only took a moment to see that it was.
They are here! How could they do this?!
There had been no
warning of the Wickhams' intention to attend. Elizabeth bit her
lip. Not only was it a mortifying reminder of Lydia's recent hasty
marriage, but the idea of Mr. Darcy having to publicly
acknowledge Wickham as part of Jane's family was something
Elizabeth would have wished to avoid at all costs.

Jane glided past the row where the Wickhams
sat and Elizabeth was surprised to see Lydia barely glance at the
beaming bride. She followed Lydia's nervous look to her husband and
was shocked to find Mr. Wickham staring directly at herself.
Unwilling to acknowledge the slight nod he offered, Elizabeth
quickly looked away.

Unfortunately, the change in the direction of
her gaze did not relieve her discomfort. Instead, it only increased
tenfold as her eyes came to rest on Mr. Darcy. She had
purposely avoided looking directly at him the whole morning, and
particularly when he took his place next to Mr. Bingley.
Looking at him now, she drew a quick, involuntary breath. His
chiseled profile and striking appearance struck her with full
force. He was impeccably dressed in a deep blue morning coat and
light drab breeches, his jet black hair contrasting against the
snowy white of his shirt and neckcloth. The painful ache in her
heart that had grown more acute with every unavoidable meeting this
past week stirred once more, sending her eyes to the floor.
I
can do this! I can!
she reminded herself. Taking another deep
breath, she forced her gaze back to Jane.

“Do you see them – there in the back?” Kitty
exclaimed in a hushed voice. “Oh, I knew she could not Miss Jane's
wedding! But I wonder that Mr. Wickham did not wear his
uniform. He looks so handsome in his red coat.”

“Not now, Kitty!” whispered Elizabeth
brusquely as father and daughter reached the front of the church
and Jane's hand was relinquished to Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth
dared a quick glance in Mr. Darcy's direction and fought back
a moan. Her hopes of his not seeing the Wickhams were dashed in an
instant. His stony countenance was all she needed to know that he
had discovered them as well. Thankfully, Jane and Charles were
oblivious to anything or anyone except each other, and the ceremony
began.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together
here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to
join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony…”

As hard as she tried to follow the sacred
words, they were soon overshadowed by the awfulness of the
situation.
Wickham is here! What could he have possibly hoped to
gain? Surely he must have known Mr. Darcy would be here as
well. And now what will Mr. Darcy do – what can he do?
It
was the worst of all possible circumstances for Mr. Darcy. For
herself, his grim expression was irrefutable proof that Wickham's
connection to the family would forever separate her from the one
man she desired.

An overwhelming sense of loss engulfed her as
the vicar's words sounded distantly in her ears. If
Mr. Darcy's visits to Longbourn this past week had given her
even the slightest hope for a renewal of his addresses – and
reluctantly she admitted to herself that they had – she had been
foolishly deceiving herself. This instance of Mr. Wickham's
lack of sensibility as regarded Mr. Darcy was only the
beginning, and clearly affirmed there would be no renewals of any
kind.

There was nothing to be done about it now.
She could only hope that the Wickhams' unexpected appearance would
not spoil the day for Jane. Lydia seemed a little out of sorts, but
Elizabeth was sure it was not enough to prevent her from wanting to
be the center of attention on any occasion and thus she resolved to
speak to Lydia privately as soon as the ceremony was over. Pushing
the disturbing thoughts from her mind, she looked to Jane and
Charles. Nothing would spoil this day for them if she could help
it.

With a start, she found that her reflections
had taken her farther away than she realized. Turning her attention
back to the ceremony, she watched Charles nervously place a simple
gold band on Jane's finger and repeat the sacred words she would
never hear for herself.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I
thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the
Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.
Amen.”

The vicar smiled at Charles and continued in
a solemn voice. “For as much as Charles Robert Bingley and Jane
Marie Bennet have consented together in holy wedlock, and have
witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have
given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared
the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of
hands; I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together…”