Fault or Virtue: An Imaginative Retelling of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' (8 page)

At Longbourn, time did not pass quickly enough for anyone’s taste, and any task
that was taken on, was done so in light of the upcoming ball. Elizabeth and Jane returned
home to find that Charlotte Lucas had become quite a permanent fixture in the Bennet
household as the constant companion of their cousin. Lizzy still wondered at Charlotte’s
patience with the man, but was grateful that the distance the arrangement allowed her
would prevent Collins from securing her company at the ball.

There were other visitors as well, lured home by Kitty and Lydia. These were
soldiers from the regiment stationed at Meryton, of whom the most frequent visitors were

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young Denny and Wickham. Mrs. Bennet was beside herself with all of the commotion
what with the upcoming ball, the presence of Mr. Collins, and the constant stream of
soldiers in her home, and so mostly stayed locked up in her room struck with nerves.

So it was decided, or rather naturally happened in this way, that Jane would look
after her mother and Charlotte keep company with Mr. Collins, while Lizzy attempted to
curb the silliness of her two youngest sisters amongst the company of uniformed men.

Kitty and Lydia, fueled by their attention from the officers, became so trying that
Lizzy quite envied the task of Jane, and at times, would have traded Charlotte for the
company of Mr. Collins. But Wickham, she soon discovered, was very pleasurable
company. He had easy manners, a pleasing smile, and was in every way a gentleman.
Elizabeth easily forgot her task to monitor her sisters in his company, and she felt more at
ease in his company than with any other before.

During an errand to town one morning, while Wickham was accompanying the
Bennet sisters to their destination, Elizabeth noticed Bingley and Darcy exiting a shop
they had just passed. Before she could acknowledge them, Bingley excitedly drew
Darcy’s attention to them and she saw him stiffen at the sight of Wickham and then
retreat back into the shop. Wickham noticed her distraction but did not see Darcy.
Elizabeth didn’t know whether or not to trust her eyes.

“Are you alright, Miss Elizabeth?” Wickham asked.
“I am, Mr. Wickham. I wonder, I know that the militia have been invited to the
Netherfield Ball, will you be in attendance?” She was not wholly ashamed for hoping that
he would seek to secure at least one dance with her.
“Oh, indeed you must come, Mr. Wickham!” squealed Lydia.
“I intend to go, yes,” his answer sent Lydia and Kitty into hysterics, “but I regret
being unfamiliar with the host. His name is Bingley, is it not? He must be a most gracious
gentleman to have invited so many people he is unfamiliar with.”
“He is indeed,” Elizabeth answered, “but his manners are so easy that I daresay he
will be well acquainted with all in attendance by the end of the evening. His sister Miss
Bingley and his friend Mr. Darcy will also act as hosts.” She risked a glance at Wickham
and saw his complexion turn instantly white at the mention of Darcy.
My eyes did not
deceive me.
“Darcy of Pemberley?” he choked.
“Yes, are you familiar with him?” she was beside herself with curiosity.
“Indeed, my family has been connected with his for ages. My late father was his
father’s steward. We grew up together, Darcy and I.” He slowly returned to his normal
self with some notable effort.
“How fortunate you will be reunited then,” she coaxed.
“I am afraid it will not be a happy reunion. You see, I am afraid we have drifted
apart since his father’s death.” He looked so sad in that moment that Elizabeth
wholeheartedly regretted pressing the subject.
“I am sorry, Mr. Wickham. That is a shame.”
“That is not the half of it, Miss Elizabeth.”
His lively looks returned, he shocked Elizabeth with a terrible story of how his
inheritance and prospects were stripped away from him, how he was forced to join the
militia as a means of income as soon as Darcy became Master of Pemberley. Elizabeth

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could not but believe the sincerity of the man in front of her. He was indeed harmed,
frightened, and haunted by his former master. His claim that it was jealousy that lost him
his position, however, she did not quite believe. She had never glimpsed anything of
jealousy in Darcy’s character. Pride, yes, ridiculous pride she had viewed. She trusted
that Darcy had different reasons for denying Wickham his position, even though she was
sure he had no right to do so. She felt for Wickham, he had never been anything but
charming and attentive.
Now that I know Mr. Darcy better, what am I to make of this
story?
It could all be true, she realized. Neither man, in truth, did she know well enough
to believe.

“Will this affect your stay in the area, Mr. Wickham?” Her voice betrayed her
concern.
“His home is Pemberley, he can banish me from nowhere but there.”
Elizabeth shivered involuntarily as his eyes met hers. She found them as open and
engaging as his character and expression. Pale blue, shining, and difficult to forget.

Elizabeth sought the solitude of her childhood swing and repeated Wickham’s
story over and over again in her head. She felt that something could not be right about it,
she was sure that some part of it was left out. When she was not occupied with his story,
she was occupied by the lovely memory of his smile and warm blue eyes. Soon, however,
the light blue eyes faded into deep dark blue pools with a depth that she had never seen
anywhere else before. How could Wickham’s eyes seem so dull in comparison? Why had
Darcy’s eyes struck her so?

Darcy paced back and forth in the Netherfield library. He slammed his wrist on
the desk.
Wickham! Will I never be free of him? Has he not done enough?
He could not
stand the memory of his walking so close to Elizabeth, and in such a familiar way.

Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts that she did not hear the approach of her
cousin until it was too late.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. I am glad to find a moment alone with you,” Mr.
Collins preached.
She shuddered as his eyes combed over her figure. She grieved that there was no
proper reason she could deny him a dance at the ball in two day’s time, for she was sure
that was his aim. She could not bring herself to reply, and so said nothing.
“In light of the upcoming ball, Miss Elizabeth, I would like to secure your
hand…”
“I’d be honored, Mr. Collins, of course I’ll dance with you. I’m sure my sisters
will be honored as well,” she said it quickly so as to end her agony, but Mr. Collins was
taken aback by her answer.
“Dancing, yes, Miss Bennet, but I have a more…permanent question on my mind
this morning. I had hoped, well, I would be delighted if you would allow me to introduce
you at the Netherfield Ball… as my intended.”
“What!” Elizabeth let her surprise escape before she could help herself.

Darcy remained sick with frustration. The only solution he could live with was
warning Miss Elizabeth of Wickham’s character. Surely he would not offer the entire

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story of his dealings with Wickham, that was too personal, but he could at least reveal the
account of the man’s debts and gambling. He set off to Longbourn right away, unable to
wait.

When Darcy arrived, Collins was well into detailing the kindness of Lady
Catherine, his intention of coming to Longbourn to secure one of his cousins as his wife,
and assuring Elizabeth that he was not hurt by her refusal at all, as he well understood
that ladies do not seek to seem too eager at the prospect of matrimony in order that they
maintain their natural delicacy.

Darcy had walked to Longbourn in order to collect himself and regain his calm
before an interview with Miss Bennet, but found his attention roused by an argument on
the side of the house between the lady and her cousin. Not wishing to eavesdrop, he
attempted to skirt the scene and head towards the house, but was forced to hide from
view when Miss Elizabeth stood up and began pacing.

“I am not the sort of person that says one thing and means another, Mr. Collins!”
“Elizabeth, I did not mean that at all.”
“Mr. Collins, kindly remember that I am Miss Elizabeth or Miss Bennet to you,

and just so I am made perfectly clear, will never to you be anything else!”

Darcy could feel her anger from yards away. If the situation had not been so
trying on Miss Elizabeth, he would have rather liked to enjoy seeing Mr. Collins thus put
down. He considered stepping between them if things got more heated but did not for a
second doubt Elizabeth’s ability to tell Mr. Collins off.

“Perhaps I should have made my intentions clear to you earlier, Miss Elizabeth. I
had not intended to propose for another few weeks but with the upcoming ball I had
thought it would be a perfect time to make the announcement.”

“As I have said repeatedly, our wishes do not align at all and if you have any
compassion, you will never speak of yours to me again.” She closed her eyes tightly and
made her way to the house, Mr. Collins in tow, never ceasing his begging.

Darcy watched them disappear into the house and just straightened himself to
follow them, albeit a most inappropriate time, when Elizabeth sprang from the house and
made her way back to the swing, this time followed by a shrieking Mrs. Bennet and a
very stern Mr. Bennet not far behind. Darcy ducked out of sight again, cursing his luck
and hoping that he would not be discovered. He attempted to review what it was he
wished to say to Miss Elizabeth if he had a chance to speak with her, but was too caught
by the conversation between her and her parents.

“I cannot marry him! You cannot make me!” Elizabeth hissed.

“You ungrateful child!” Her mother roared. “You will marry him or I shall never
speak to you again!”
“Father, please.” Elizabeth asked quietly. Darcy held his breath, unable to stand
the thought of Elizabeth being forced into marrying Collins. His chest ached at the
thought and he waited for Mr. Bennet’s reply as if his life depended on it.
“Elizabeth, from now on you must be a stranger to one of your parents,” he
started.
“Indeed!” chirped Mrs. Bennet and she stalked back and forth.
“For if you do not marry Collins, your mother will never see you again, and I will
never speak to you again if you do.”

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Darcy let out an audible sigh of relief and was grateful that the noise of Mrs.
Bennet’s displeasure and Elizabeth’s happiness allowed his presence to go unnoticed. He
viewed Elizabeth wrap her father in a tight embrace and then make her way across the
road towards the trees. Undoubtedly, to escape for a walk. For the moment, he felt
tempted to show the same appreciation for Mr. Bennet.

Darcy’s consolation was too overwhelming to think clearly and he set off across
the path to join her as soon as her parents returned to the house.
Darcy had not even thought of an excuse for being there, he was so hell-bent on
finding her. It did not take long, for she had not managed to get very far as she was, to
Darcy’s dismay, delayed by a violent fit of tears. It took all of his strength to keep his
arms from wrapping around her and letting her cry against his chest.
“Miss Elizabeth, can I help you?” He noted the impertinence of the question as
soon as it left his mouth, but he could not have asked if she were all right with any
conscience. He knew she was distressed and only wanted to help.
She choked on her tears in laughter, wiped her face, and tried to compose herself.
“Thank you for asking, Mr. Darcy, but you are quite honestly one of very few
people who could not help me right now,” she fought through tears to keep smiling, but
he did not know what to make of what she had said.
“I will take my leave of you, then.” Abashed, he started to move away, but he
suddenly felt her gentle hand on his arm and he turned to find her small form closer to his
than ever before.
“I did not say I was not glad of your company, I just stated that you could not help
me in this instance,” she glanced at him expectantly, looking up at him through her long
lashes. If a single, stubborn tear had not run down her face at that moment, he would have
kissed her and all would be lost. Instead, he gently wiped the tear from her face, and
continued gently caressing her cheek, enjoying the softness. She leaned her face into his
hand and closed her eyes.
Darcy was beside himself with confusion.
How had this come to pass? How could
I feel this much without realizing it would happen?
He struggled to maintain his distance
when so little space was left between them. Elizabeth opened her eyes to find an
expression in Darcy’s eyes she had never seen before. It was smoldering, deep, but not in
anger. Her look of confusion was enough to pull Darcy out of it, and he handed her his
handkerchief before anything was said on the subject and cleared his throat.
“Now, Miss Elizabeth, you know me to be a very proud sort of man so you will
no doubt be surprised that I do not like being told I cannot be of assistance.”
“Perhaps I spoke too hastily,” she whispered back, still clinging to the memory of
his warm hand pressed against her cheek.
“In any case, you need not speak of what has distressed you. So long as it does
not affect the two dances I have requested of you, it is a small matter to me.”
“Oh my! You are proud
and
self-centered, Mr. Darcy!”
“I would not be so quick to judge. It is for your pleasure that I will dance with
you,” he teased.
“I will be beside myself with nerves at the honor, sir!”
As they continued their lively banter, Darcy decided that he would not broach the
subject of Wickham just yet. The timing was not right, he told himself. Elizabeth enjoyed

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their discussion of books, poetry, and travels so much that she never thought of asking
how it was that the gentleman came upon her in the first place.

Chapter 13

Finally, the night they had all been waiting for arrived. Elizabeth found
Netherfield to be the most beautifully decorated place she had ever seen, and was excited
for the prospect of the night. Even the carriage ride with Mr. Collins had not been
horrible. The two had not spoken since his disastrous proposal, and she hoped it would
remain that way. She remained mostly at the side of Jane and Mr. Bingley for Charlotte
was with Mr. Collins and neither Darcy nor Wickham could be found.