Unforgiving Temper (8 page)

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Feeling secure from the world, Elizabeth lay
on a soft bed of grass, absently picking at the wildflowers in her
hand. The ominous feeling that had been her companion since
daybreak pressed a crease in her brow. She was stunned at
Mr. Wickham's intimidating conduct exhibited the night before.
Mr. Darcy's account had warned her of Wickham's true nature;
but to experience it first hand was an unsettling experience. She
shuddered involuntarily at the memory of his menacing nearness and
her frown deepened in contemplation.

Wickham was a man of some intellect, and also
one who needed to make his own way in the world. Were his
intentions toward Lydia honorable? He must know there would be no
fortune in marrying her. Surely he would not trifle with Lydia
knowing she is not without friends; yet. . . she could not bear to
consider the possibility his words had implied.

At least there was one bright spot in all
this. Her face softened at the thought of Jane and
Mr. Bingley. In spite of all the misery they had suffered, she
was very hopeful they would soon find the happiness they
deserved.

Sighing wistfully, she laid back with closed
eyes, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and wishing for the
carefree days of her childhood. The past twelve-month had turned
her life into a hopelessly complicated muddle. If only she had not
overheard Mr. Darcy's careless remark to Mr. Bingley at
the assembly, or had she been less swayed by Mr. Wickham's
charms and good looks, or perhaps been more willing to acknowledge
Mr. Darcy's attempts at civility when he danced with her at
the Netherfield ball. There was any number of seemingly
insignificant instances where the slightest change would have made
the present so very different. What a fool she had been!

Re-examining the impromptu bouquet she had
gathered on her walk, she inhaled deeply, allowing the fragrant
blooms to dispel the melancholy that had crept into her thoughts.
She could not do anything about the past; but she could do
something about the present. She could prevent Mr. Wickham
from destroying Lydia's reputation and that of the entire
family.

Rising slowly, Elizabeth brushed at her
skirt, considering what to say to her father. The resolve to speak
to him as soon as she returned was edged with doubt. Through the
years, her admiration for him had been moderated by his inclination
to avoid anything troublesome. The unwillingness to stand by his
convictions in the face of opposition was a weakness Elizabeth
tried hard to overlook; a weakness she was certain would now be
tested by her mother's blind eye to the faults of a man in a red
coat.

Squaring her shoulders, she drew in a deep,
fortifying breath from the solitude of her much-loved sanctuary,
then turned to make her way back home.

Elizabeth moved slowly toward the split birch
that marked the edge of the meadow, too deep in thought to be aware
of the eyes that followed her progress. Coming out from the thick
underbrush into the meadow, she was startled to see the very
subject of her thoughts materialize in front of her.

“Mr. Wickham!” she cried, quickly
covering her alarm with a lift of her chin.

“Miss Bennet, what a pleasant
surprise!”

“A surprise indeed; but to say it is pleasant
is a matter of opinion,” she replied coolly and stepped back,
remembering the unpleasant experience of the night before.

“I do consider it fortunate we should
meet.”

“And I consider it peculiar that we should
meet at all at such an early hour.”

Wickham flashed one of his most charming
smiles. “Very well, then, I confess I have purposely sought you
out. I should like to finish the conversation we started last
evening.”

“And I do not. You, sir, have wasted your
time in coming all this way. I have nothing more to say to you, and
I pray you importune me no further.”

Without waiting for a response, Elizabeth
spun away and started across the meadow.

“It is unfortunate our little meeting on the
terrace was interrupted before I had the opportunity to fully
explain myself. I have a proposal to offer,” Wickham called after
her.

His astonishing words stopped her in her
tracks and she turned back to him, staring in disbelief. “A
proposal? Surely you do not mean
marriage
?”

“No, I am not speaking of marriage. Quite the
opposite, in fact. I offer you freedom from that obligation which,
given your recent experience, you seem to dislike very much.”

Elizabeth's temper flashed. “It is fortunate
you do not speak of marriage, sir, for I fail to see where my
interest in matrimony should concern you; especially in light of
your obvious partiality for my sister.”

“Your sister? Oh, you mean Miss Lydia? She
has nothing to do with this; at least not at present. My proposal
refers to an opportunity for independence. Specifically, I offer
you a most advantageous position with an acquaintance of mine. He
is a respectable gentleman of good family residing in the north
country. He has the care of a young ward who is preparing for her
bow and he seeks young lady of your age and station as companion to
her. It is an excellent opportunity. It would free you from any
difficulties
with your mother should you wish to refuse any
additional offers of marriage in future.”

The whole neighborhood knew of her rejecting
Mr. Collins; but she could not help wonder if by some strange
occurrence Mr. Wickham knew of Mr. Darcy's offer. If he
did, it made his appalling proposal all the more offensive. Barely
able to control her mounting indignation, she faced him.

“How dare you, sir! You would stand in my
father's place? My wedded status, or lack of it, is none of your
concern. Above that, I am a gentleman's daughter, and for you to
suggest that I accept employment is a contemptible
interference!”

Wickham only smiled. “I am sorry you feel
that way. I thought perhaps a young lady of independent spirit
would welcome an opportunity to have independent means.”

“You are greatly mistaken, Mr. Wickham.
I have no desire to be independent in such a way. Furthermore, your
behavior gives me liberty to relate my true feelings in this
matter. I do not like you. From the moment I was informed of your
true character, I realized you have taken every advantage of our
hospitality and used us all very ill. The manner in which you
forced yourself upon me last night and again this morning has given
proof to the ungentleman-like sketch of your character. I have
nothing further to say. Good day, sir!”

Wickham's smile flattened into an inflexible
line as he moved swiftly, reaching out and capturing her wrist in a
crushing grip.

“I pray you stay one moment.” The tenor of
his words betrayed his impatience. “I had hoped to appeal to your
sense of independence; but I see you require additional persuasion
to fully comprehend the advantages of my offer.”

Wickham's brutal intimidation gave rise to
Elizabeth's courage. His painful grasp warned her that any display
of weakness could prove disastrous.

“You will release me, sir! There is nothing
you could possibly say that would tempt me to accept such an
offer!”

“Ah, that is where you are greatly mistaken,”
he replied serenely. “You will recall our conversation last evening
and how much I have enjoyed your sister Lydia's company. Have you
not wondered why?”

His leering words halted Elizabeth's attempts
to free herself, an ominous foreboding gripping her heart. Wickham
released his hold and she stood motionless, waiting for him to
continue.

“I observe you are a most devoted sister. I
take it that you would not wish any disgrace to come to Miss
Lydia?”

“Do not play games with me, sir. What is your
meaning?”

“My meaning is this,” he responded lightly,
“Miss Lydia thinks herself in love with me. It must be the uniform.
Do you think? She does love a man in a red coat, you know. More
importantly, she has professed that love quite eloquently.”

“You cannot be serious if you think to ruin
my sister's reputation! You cannot succeed. The word of our family
against yours would certainly prevail!”

“It would not be my word at all, but your
sister's own words that will ruin her.” Smiling widely, he pulled a
thick packet of letters from his coat and held them up for
Elizabeth to see. “She has been very generous - and might I add
explicit - in her affection for me. Here, you may examine one for
yourself.”

Elizabeth took the letter he offered and
immediately recognized Lydia's cramped hand. Reading the first few
lines, she blushed furiously at the words and knew he spoke the
truth. Her sister's obviously unbridled passion and boldness in
expressing it would be her own ruin. This was bad – very bad – for
Lydia, for Jane's hopes with Mr. Bingley, for their entire
family. She raised her eyes to Mr. Wickham.

“Are you two engaged, sir?”

“Oh, no! Nothing of the kind!” he laughed
scornfully.

Elizabeth drew a shaky breath. “Have you…has
my sister been compromised?”

Wickham paused, enjoying the moment as he
watched Elizabeth struggle with the reality of her sister's
reckless behavior.

“Not yet; although I must say she is very
persuasive.”

Wickham's amusement and lack of concern for
Lydia's reputation or that of her family was obvious. The feeling
of dread that had shadowed her since their conversation on the
terrace now threatened to engulf her. What had Lydia done? Stupid,
stupid girl!

“But, do not distress yourself so, madam. I
offer hope for a brighter future. You see, I
could
be
persuaded to part with the letters and discourage Miss Lydia's
affection. It would only require your cooperation in the matter of
my friend's ward.”

“I will not be blackmailed!” she replied
coldly, pushing down her rising panic.

“Blackmail is such an ugly word. Let us call
it a friendly persuasion. Do you not think it unfortunate that your
sister would expose herself to ridicule, especially now that a
certain gentleman has returned to the neighborhood? If these
letters were to be made public, your whole family would most
assuredly partake of Lydia's shame. Very unfortunate, indeed.”

“There is more here than you are telling,
sir. I do not know what your purpose is, but I know what you are
capable of, and you are sadly mistaken if you think for a moment
that holding my sister's unfortunate behavior hostage will force my
participation in whatever scheme you are constructing. It will not
take long for you to be exposed for the rake that you are, and you
will be called upon to answer for this despicable behavior!”

“And what would you do? Make known the
letters? Expose your sisters – all of them – to public ridicule and
disgrace? I won't marry her. With the estate entailed, do you think
your father would be so foolish as to challenge me? Do not be so
hasty in refusing my offer. You have until tomorrow evening to
decide. If you do not choose to accept, I shall be forced to make
public your sister's delicious letters. My fellow officers would
rather enjoy the entertainment. Remember, tomorrow evening. I shall
wait for your answer in the small garden on the east side of your
grounds.”

With a smirk and a deep bow, Wickham turned
and walked away, leaving Elizabeth staring after him. As he passed
from view, she took several hard breaths to contain the crushing
despair. This was much worse than she could have ever imagined.
Think, Lizzy, think! There has to be another way!

Wickham could not be allowed to publish the
letters. It would certainly dash Jane's newfound hopes with
Mr. Bingley. In a love so new as theirs, all of Jane's
goodness would not be sufficient to blot out the scandal of Lydia's
misdeeds. It would take more time for a greater understanding to
form.

Yet, she could not agree to employment
either. Aside from the distasteful notion of subjecting herself to
the will of an employer, Elizabeth could not help but think of what
Wickham attempted with Mr. Darcy's sister. It was a very great
possibility that Wickham's proposal involved some mercenary scheme
regarding this young ward and she could not be any part of it.

If she were to disclose Wickham's deeds, it
would force actions that could only end in misery. At best, honor
would demand he marry Lydia, but he had already declared he would
not. Elizabeth closed her eyes against the worst. If Wickham
refused to marry Lydia, Mr. Bennet would be compelled to
demand the satisfaction of a duel. Her heart ached at the very
thought. She knew her father's age and sedentary lifestyle could
never hope to triumph over the youth and training of a military man
such as Wickham. With the agonizing loss of her father would also
come the loss of life as they knew it. With Longbourn entailed, all
her mother's fears of destitution would be realized. No, it was not
to be attempted.

Elizabeth paced in a circle, searching
desperately for a means of solving her dilemma. What was she to do?
Her father had always been her anchor in stormy seas such as this,
but she could not go to him with Lydia's disgraceful letter…or
could she?

A plan of her own now beginning to form in
her head, Elizabeth set out for Longbourn with a determined
stride.

Touching the two letters hidden in the folds
of her dress, Elizabeth offered a fervent prayer for success and
then rapped lightly on the door to her father's library. At his
invitation, she quickly turned the knob and entered. Looking at the
affectionate expression with which he greeted her, her heart
contracted painfully at the thought that it was something she would
not see again for some time; but there was no turning back. Her
whole family would feel the devastating effects if she failed
now.