Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 1 (7 page)

‘I demand to know,’ she said, her whole body quivering with indignation.

Again, he thought he had never seen anyone more lovely.

‘I cannot tell you. It is for Mr Wickham to say.’

‘But you do know what it is?’ she demanded.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Then you must tell me,’ she said. ‘As a gentleman, you must.’

She could see that her words had hit home.
As a gentleman
. And Mr Darcy prided himself on being a gentleman.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘But will you not come into the ante-room? I think you will need to sit down.’

He indicated an open door leading off into another, smaller room. There were a few guests there, taking a rest from the noise of the ballroom, and she nodded her head, all the while wondering what it could be.

She took his proffered arm and felt an unwelcome spark of electricity shoot through her at the contact. Her eyes were drawn to his and she knew he had felt it, too. Of all the provoking men, why did he have to be the one to have this effect on her? She was angry with him, and angry with herself, but it could not be helped.

He led her into a corner of the room, where she sat on a sofa and pretended to look through a book of engravings.

He sat down next to her.

‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘What is so terrible that I needed to be sitting down to hear it?’

‘Only this,’ he said. ‘That Mr Wickham is married.’

‘Married?’ she exclaimed. And then was grateful that Mr Darcy had led her to an obscure corner, so that her exclamation had not been overheard.

‘Yes,’ said Mr Darcy.

‘I don’t believe it,’ she said, unable to take it in.

Mr Wickham was married? So all the time he had been paying court to her he had been playing with her and amusing himself at her expense! She felt hurt and angry, and with her feelings in turmoil she blurted out, ‘Then I am glad you bested him this afternoon.’

She saw expressions of vindication and hope and longing chase one another across his face.

‘Miss Elizabeth . . . ’ he began.

‘No, say no more,’ she said.

She was confused by everything that had happened. Her experiences throughout the day had been unexpected and the events of the ball were no less perplexing.

‘I need some time to think things over,’ she explained. ‘So much has happened in such a short space of time and I do not know what to make of it all.’

He looked disappointed but said, ‘I understand. I will not press you today, but I will call on you tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Very well,’ she said.

There was time for no more. Caroline Bingley, who was unable to leave Mr Darcy alone for very long, appeared at the doorway. Her eyes flashed with anger when she saw that he was sitting with Elizabeth and she walked over to them at once, making some trivial excuse, and claimed Mr Darcy’s attention.

Elizabeth took the opportunity to slip away and find Jane, but when she saw that Jane was with Mr Bingley still, she went to sit with her mother.

It was not the most relaxing company, but she was used to ignoring her mother and she let the petulant words wash over her as she thought about everything she had learned.

‘I cannot believe it,’ said Jane, the following morning, when Lizzy told her what had happened. ‘Mr Wickham is married? No, there must be some mistake.’

The two young women were sitting in their bedroom, still in their nightgowns, brushing each other’s hair.

‘Do you think so?’ asked Elizabeth, seizing on this chance.

‘I am sure of it,’ said Jane. ‘Mr Wickham could not be so far lost to decency as to make love to you, knowing all the time he was married.’

Lizzy took Jane’s hand and kissed it.

‘I am so lucky to have you as a sister, I don’t know what I would do without you,’ said Lizzy. ‘I have been tossing and turning all night, wondering if I had imagined Mr Wickham’s attentions to me, and asking myself if they had not been just the ordinary friendliness of a charming man. I have been berating myself for vanity, for seeing an attachment where none existed.’

‘You did not imagine it,’ said Jane. ‘He has been most assiduous in his attentions, which is why I think there must have been some mistake. Mr Darcy has heard an unfounded rumour, perhaps, or been misled by someone up to mischief.’

Lizzy looked dubious. ‘He seemed very certain, and Mr Darcy does not seem like the kind of person who would be easily misled.’

‘If his information came from a reliable source he would not doubt it. Perhaps one of his acquaintance saw a marriage notice for Mr Wickham in the paper, but it was for a different Mr Wickham.’

Elizabeth brightened.

‘That is certainly possible,’ she said.

‘We will walk into Meryton this morning,’ said Jane. ‘We often meet Mr Wickham there and then we can clear up this misunderstanding.’

Jane seemed so certain it was nothing but a misunderstanding that Lizzy was convinced. The two girls dressed, and after a breakfast of hot rolls and chocolate they set out for Meryton.

George Wickham had spent an uncomfortable evening. He had not had the courage to attend the ball, knowing that Mr Darcy would force him to reveal the truth, and so he had remained in his room by himself. But now, after a night’s sleep, he was feeling more confident and although he felt he must soon leave the neighbourhood, he intended to do it in his own time and in his own way, and without revealing the truth about himself.

He smiled as he tied his cravat, looking at himself in the mirror.

‘You’re a handsome dog, Wickham,’ he smirked to his reflection. ‘You can still leave a trail of broken hearts behind you when you go.’

Elizabeth’s younger sisters had insisted on going into Meryton, too, and so the whole family walked into the small town. They went to the circulating library, where they often met the officers, and they were not disappointed. In particular, Elizabeth was gratified to see that Mr Wickham was there. She felt a trifle nervous, but she was a confident and courageous person by nature and when he came over to her and bowed she asked him what she needed to know.

‘He said that I was married?’ said Mr Wickham.

He was not in the slightest embarrassed, as surely he must have been if he had, indeed, been wed. Instead, he seemed hurt.

‘I thought there must have been some mistake,’ said Lizzy in relief. ‘Jane thought so, too. She felt sure Mr Darcy must have seen notice of it in the paper without realising that it was not the same Mr Wickham.’

‘Depend upon it, that will be it,’ said Mr Wickham. ‘Wickham is not an uncommon name and it is an easy mistake to make.’

‘But,’ said Lizzy, her brow furrowing as she recalled the fight she had witnessed, ‘why, then, were you wrestling.’

‘I am afraid I am to blame,’ said Mr Wickham.

When he did not go on, Elizabeth prompted him.

‘Very well, if you must know – and I am afraid it does not cover me in glory,’ he said ruefully. ‘ - But if you must know, Mr Darcy said as much to me. He said that I was married and that I was deceiving everyone in Meryton. Of course, I should have kept my temper and told him it was nonsense, but I was so angry with him that I called him some unfortunate names. He sprang on me and knocked me from my horse. The rest you know.’

It seemed only too likely. Far more likely than Mr Wickham lying consistently on such an important matter.

All of Elizabeth’s good feelings towards Mr Darcy evaporated. He had blackened Mr Wickham’s name without making sure his information was accurate and in doing so he had caused a great deal of unhappiness.

‘Can you forgive me?’ asked Mr Wickham charmingly.

‘There is nothing to forgive. At least, nothing which you have done. Mr Darcy, on the other hand needs a great deal of forgiveness, but it is a good thing he is not here now, for I would not give it to him. He has caused a great deal of trouble by his ill-considered conclusions.’

‘Indeed he has, but you must forgive him. He has been indulged all his life, and taught to think that he is always right. If he believes me to be married, then of course – in his opinion - I must be married; if he thinks I have deceived the entire town for weeks then of course I must have done. He finds it far easier to blame me for things I have never done, than to admit that he is wrong.’

‘I am sorry for it,’ said Elizabeth. ‘It must be a great trial to you.’

Mr Wickham shrugged. ‘I am used to it. He was the same as a boy. But let us not talk of Mr Darcy. I would much rather talk of you. Did you enjoy the ball last night – apart from the unfortunate time you spent with Mr Darcy?’

‘No, I didn’t enjoy it all, he ruined the evening for me,’ said Elizabeth.

‘I am sorry for it. But there will be other evenings,’ he said, giving her a soulful look.

‘Indeed there will. My Aunt Philips is having a small party tonight.’

‘Yes, I know. She has been good enough to invite me. I hope to see you there.’

‘I knew there must have been some mistake,’ said Jane, as they walked home from Meryton a while later. ‘Mr Wickham could not be so lost to all sense of decency that he would do such a thing.’

‘Which makes me an even worse person for feeling some sympathy for Mr Darcy, and for hoping he would win the fight.’

‘You are being too hard on yourself, Lizzy. Just because Mr Darcy made a mistake does not mean that he is a bad man.’

‘Jane! You are too good to be true! You always see the best in everyone!’ said Lizzy, hugging her sister.

‘I hope I only see what is there,’ said Jane. ‘Remember, Mr Darcy is Mr Bingley’s best friend so there must be good in him, otherwise Mr Bingley would not like him. I dare say Mr Darcy felt he was doing the right thing. And indeed, if Mr Wickham had truly been married, Mr Darcy’s actions would have been noble.’

‘Yes, they would,’ Elizabeth conceded.

‘So let us believe the best of both men. Mr Darcy had noble intentions and Mr Wickham is innocent of any wrongdoing.’

‘Oh, Jane, I wish I could be as good as you but I am still angry with Mr Darcy. And now I have to entertain him this afternoon, for he said he would pay a call.’ She shook her head. ‘I cannot do it. When I think of the harm he caused through his casual accusation, I cannot receive him civilly. I will be angry with him, I know I will. I think it is better if I put him off until I can talk to him in a civil manner.’

Jane had nothing to object to in this idea and, when Kitty, Lydia and Mary had finished their gossiping, the sisters returned home in a much happier frame of mind.

Mr Darcy, riding into Meryton to see Colonel Forster on a matter of business, was not so happy. He had hated to hurt Elizabeth the previous evening and only hoped she had recovered somewhat, now that she had had time to come to terms with things.

As he dismounted at the inn, he saw the object of his thoughts in the far distance, walking out of Meryton and back towards her home. He thought of mounting his horse again and going after her, but she was surrounded by her sisters and it would be impossible for him to have free speech with her. So he decided he would wait until the afternoon, when he had promised to wait on her. Then, he could perhaps find a way to have some time alone with her, or chaperoned only by her sister Jane, who would withdraw to a discreet distance and let them have some private conversation.

And so he left his horse in the care of the ostlers and continued towards Colonel Forster’s. But he had not gone far when he ran into George Wickham.

Wickham was looking very dapper – the complete opposite of the way he had looked when Darcy had thrown him into the river. He was meticulously dressed, a tall hat perched on top of his curls, his blue coat immaculate and his white shirt without a blemish. His cream pantaloons were similarly spotless and his boots were polished to a high shine. Instead of looking chagrined as he should have done, he looked instead complacent.

Darcy was at once alert. Something was not as it should be.

‘Ah, Darcy!’ said Wickham with an insolent smirk.

‘Wickham!’ said Mr Darcy, making an icy bow.

‘Come, come, now, Darcy, let us forget our foolish argument and be friends,’ said Wickham, holding out his hand for Darcy to shake.

Mr Darcy ignored it.

‘You are no friend of mine,’ he said.

Wickham shrugged.

‘A pity, but you cannot say I have not tried.’

‘You did not try very hard last night. You could have healed the breach by doing as I told you to do, and telling Elizabeth of your marriage.’

‘I was sore from your beating,’ said Wickham, his anger momentarily glittering through his smooth facade.

‘And so you decided not to come. Leaving me to tell her.’

‘That was badly done of you,’ said Wickham, his anger breaking through again. ‘You had no right to tell her.’

‘I had every right. I only hope you will apologize to her the next time you see her. After that, I hope you will have the goodness to leave the neighbourhood so that your presence does not act as a constant reminder of the way she was cruelly used by you.’

Mr Wickham laughed.

‘You sound like a character in a Gothic novel!’ he said with a sneer. ‘It might surprise you to learn that Elizabeth is not such a prude. She is a lively young woman with a good sense of humour and a sense of the ridiculous – and what could be more ridiculous than society’s laws, which force a penniless young man to marry an heiress and then expect him not to look at another woman for the rest of his life?’

Mr Darcy was baffled.

‘I don’t understand you,’ he said.

‘No, of course you don’t,’ said Wickham insolently. ‘You are unable to speak to women yourself and so you suppose that everyone is equally awkward. When you told Elizabeth about my marriage she was naturally shocked, because you broke it to her as if were a shocking piece of news. But once she had time to think about it, and once I told her my reasons – for I met her in the library just now - she understood them. She agreed with me that I could not do anything else. Her vanity was touched by my protestations of admiration for her, and she was soon taught to see that my marriage did not mean anything. Particularly when I persuaded her with a little extra attention.’

Darcy felt himself starting to boil again. Wickham knew exactly what to say to make him lose his calm.

‘What do you mean? Darcy demanded, although he knew he should not ask.

‘I mean that I pulled her into an alcove, out of sight of everyone, and kissed her.’

‘You cur!’ said Darcy, his fists balling of their own accord.

‘Not at all. She enjoyed it, and she is looking forward to more of the same,’ said Wickham with a smug smile. Then he laughed. ‘Don’t look so disgusted, it was only a kiss. I will not ravish her, if that is what you are thinking. Her father is indolent and careless of his daughters, but even he might make an effort in such a circumstance. And if not her father, she has two uncles. But a little fun to enliven my stay in the country – a little fun for both of us. What harm can there be in that?’

‘You have said enough!’ let out Darcy in a roar.

If he did not get away from Wickham, and quickly, he would throw him in the horse trough!

But he must not do so. To brawl in the open country was bad enough. To do it in the town, where everyone would see, was unthinkable. Mr Darcy had far too much pride. So instead he turned on his heel and walked away.

He was in no mood to pay a call on Colonel Forster and so he returned to the stables and reclaimed his horse. A hard ride over open country wore away the worst of his anger and by the time he reached Netherfield again he had calmed down enough to realise that Wickham was no doubt telling lies. He was sure that Elizabeth would never behave in the manner Wickham had suggested.

And so he played a game of billiards with Bingley, wrote to his sister and ate his lunch in a better frame of mind. Only to find, when he rose from the table, that a note had been delivered from Longbourn. Miss Elizabeth sent her regrets but she would not be at home that afternoon as she had a prior engagement.

Mr Darcy crumpled the note in his hand. It was an obvious excuse.

A prior engagement indeed.

With Wickham, no doubt!