Conundrums & Coincidences (Mr Darcy’s Dilemmas)

Chapter 28

28

HIS GOOD INTENTIONS

E leven more miles. The wheels could not turn swiftly enough for Darcy’s liking on that Tuesday. At least he was in pleasant company, although it had been a narrow escape.

More flummery, not the sweet dish kind but rather the meaningless flattery sort, had been offered to him; but, try as she might, Miss Bingley had managed to neither curry his favour nor inveigle herself into Darcy’s carriage. By design, the rear-facing spot beside him was already occupied by Hadley, who had been fetched from the Inns of Court. The forward-facing seats were taken by Georgiana and Mrs Annesley. Barely discernible through the raised dust of the road, the equipage following behind held the Bingleys and Hursts. Both conveyances were Netherfield bound.

Keeping Miss Bingley out of his carriage had been a trivial thing compared to Darcy’s design of grander proportions. The previous day, during his sister’s visit to his town house, he had explained the scheme to her and secured her cooperation. Later, Bingley’s assistance would be enlisted. As for Hadley, he had been made aware of the plan; and even though he had not been there on the night in question, he was most eager to see Darcy succeed. Bingley’s sisters would baulk at such a course of action, and Hurst would be of no use in any case; but things would shift along well enough with or without their cooperation.

His main objective was to please no one but Elizabeth. Of course, the fact had crossed Darcy’s mind that such a scheme, as seen through the eyes of her family, friends, and neighbours, might shed a better light on him. Already he had spent countless hours setting his plan in motion, and Darcy was eager for its execution on Thursday.

Elizabeth will be so pleased with what I have done.

Having just arrived at Longbourn in company with his sister, Bingley, and Hadley, Darcy made the necessary introductions while looking about for Elizabeth.

With a wink of her eye, Mrs Bennet said, “If you are wondering about Lizzy’s whereabouts, she is out there on the lawn.” She pointed through the window. “She intends to teach Lydia and Kitty to properly play pall-mall.”

Thither Darcy went, content to leave his two friends and his sister in the sitting room with Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Mary, and their mother.

Rounding the corner of the house, a pretty picture greeted him—an unclouded sky, verdure, barn swallows darting about, creeping buttercups, common daisies, and three young women in summery gowns.

The instant Elizabeth espied him, she, mallet in hand and fire in her eyes, rushed in his direction.

Almost fearing for his life, Darcy—no coward, he—stood his ground but kept an eye on the long-handled wooden stick she wielded. A flush stained her cheeks, and he suspected she might have wept recently.

Coming to a halt, she gave his chest a powerful push. “Why would you do such a thing?”

Not the welcome I was expecting. “I might ask you the same question, madam,” said he, rubbing his sternum. “But, whatever I have done, I regret incurring your displeasure.” It sounded like a husbandly thing to say.

“Oh, you regret incurring my displeasure, do you? Displeasure is putting it mildly. I cannot recall having suffered any vexation equal to that which I experienced at eleven o’clock today when Papa told me what you did.”

Gently relieving the lady of her weapon, Darcy racked his brain. What had Mr Bennet said to cause such pique? Oh. Blast.

Darcy’s need for Elizabeth had become as vital as the need for air and sustenance, and the mere thought of losing her created a physical pain not unlike the first time she had spurned him or the time he had broken his arm.

Thinking it best to ascertain the cause before panicking, he said, “I assume you mean…” He had hoped she would complete the sentence; otherwise, he might put his foot in it by confessing to another transgression, if there had been one. She, however, was not obliging. Tread carefully, man. He cleared his throat, trying to delay that which could not be avoided. “You must mean…that thing I did.” He tossed the mallet aside with force. “At Oakwood.”

Watching the mallet’s trajectory, Elizabeth nodded. “You did not believe I could win the tournament on my own merit, did you?”

Cradling her chin with both hands, he turned her head and looked into her eyes. “Of course I did. You are a clever lady, my love. I had, have , every confidence in your abilities. I simply wanted to eliminate some of your competition, meaning me.”

“But Papa had the right of it. You withdrew from the tournament after winning my heart, knowing the prize would be yours either way.”

“The prize is you , Elizabeth. And it never was about winning or losing. It was about wishing to see you happy.” His heart broke at having caused sorrow instead. “When Monroe told me about the tournament, I dithered about even participating. In the end, I went to Oakwood thinking, if nothing else, the competition might, at least for a se’nnight, keep my mind off the woman I loved and had lost. And there you were.”

She backed away from his touch. “But…I thought I had won fair and square.”

He followed. “You did! Elizabeth, you solved the puzzles on your own, using your quick understanding and keen intelligence. You claimed the prize by unmitigated determination to do so. I witnessed the moment you pressed the button releasing that secret drawer. You triumphed. On your own.”

“If you were there, witnessing the moment of my so-called triumph, you must have solved the puzzle already. You knew the deed and key were in that particular clock.” She looked at the sky, at the ground, anywhere but at him. “And you just stood there and let me win.”

“It was my wish to give happiness to you and, through you, your family.” His voice lost some of its power. “Honestly, Elizabeth, I did it with the best of intentions.”

That she was not formed for ill-humour was a well-known fact, and Darcy hoped he was forgiven when her beautiful eyes turned his way and softened .

“Knowing what you did, how could Papa not have fallen to his knees in gratitude? How could he have treated you so cruelly? You saved Mama and my sisters from being forced into reduced circumstances. How can we ever thank you?”

Moving ever closer, he took her hand in his. “ You saved them, my love. But, if you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. Your family owe me nothing. I thought only of you .”

He then expressed himself as passionately as a man violently in love can be supposed to do while under the watchful eyes of the two youngest Bennets. Gently, he peeled back the cuff of Elizabeth’s glove and placed a kiss upon her wrist.

Raucous laughter was not the response he had hoped to elicit. Scowling in Miss Lydia’s direction, he noticed Miss Catherine placing a hand over her own heart and closing her eyes. He even imagined he heard a sigh.

“Shall we walk, sir?”

“You are, indeed, a clever lady.” Darcy offered his arm.

Strolling round Longbourn’s park, he continued praising Elizabeth’s abilities. “…and I suspect your father encouraged knowledge through book learning.” He dared not utter it aloud, but he doubted Mrs Bennet had much of a hand in that regard. “I also suspect you learnt through observation and experience. But who was the person you looked to as an example to be imitated?”

Running her free hand across a juniper’s spiny needles, she said, “My Grandmama Bennet. Then, when that dear lady died, I took Aunt Gardiner—yes, a tradesman’s wife—as a model. Much as my grandmother had done, my aunt loves and supports her husband, is a good mother, an exemplary housekeeper and hostess, is charitable with her time, and remains patient and elegant while doing it all. I want to be that sort of woman…for you. ”

“You will be a magnificent mistress of Pemberley.” He wanted to say more, about what a loving wife and mother she would be, but such thoughts of her in those roles incited ungentlemanly passions. Instead, Darcy merely patted Elizabeth’s hand and said he did not deserve her.

“I once tried to emulate my friend Charlotte, who is more than five years my senior and a very sensible woman. She shares many of Aunt Gardiner’s good qualities.”

Many, not all. Mrs Collins, Darcy suspected, supported her husband; but theirs was not a grand love. Not like ours.

“Charlotte thinks I am too much of an incurable romantic to practise prudence.”

They had strolled as far as the barn, and a tabby cat came trotting out to greet them. “Good day, Abby.” Crouching, Elizabeth cooed at it, stroked its head, and scratched beneath its chin. The cat purred loudly, then was gone in a flash, chasing two brimstone butterflies.

Hand upon Darcy’s arm again, Elizabeth suggested they walk towards the meadow. “To continue what I was saying, Miss Bingley and her ilk might not approve of my Gardiner relations, but I never thought of my aunt and uncle as anything other than ladylike and gentlemanlike, although neither is of gentle birth. And think what you will of my mother, sir, but she taught me about housekeeping, setting a fine table…and catching an eligible gentleman.” Elizabeth grinned at him. “Mama is inordinately proud of me, for I have caught the very best. And I love him so.”

“I return your love tenfold.” Longing to kiss her but noticing her bootlace was untied, Darcy bent down on one knee to secure the lace in a double knot. “Since you are such an incurable romantic, I suppose I, like a medieval knight, should have proposed to you on bended knee as a sign of allegiance to a superior. But I am no sentimental noddy, Elizabeth. In fact, if I remember correctly, my second proposal was a rather curt ‘marry me’. But I do promise you my respect, fidelity, and everlasting devotion.”

Standing tall then, he shook his head. “I fail to understand how a man is supposed to gain experience in offering marriage. Practice makes perfect, they say, but if he has chosen well, he should have to make a proposal only the once. Or twice.”

“What could be more clearly expressed than ‘marry me’ or ‘I love you’? Succinctness, at times, has its own charm.”

“Do you have suggestions for how one might go about speaking to your youngest sister? I wish to apologise to Miss Lydia for her removal from Brighton, although I firmly believe it was done for the best.”

“I wish you success in trying to talk any sense into that girl.” Stopping at the edge of the meadow, where farm horses grazed and clumps of tall Timothy grass grew, she plucked a stem from the ground, pulled seeds from the long, cylindrical flower heads, and released them to the breeze. “Might your sister also be willing to speak to Lydia?”

“About Wickham? Certainly not!”

“Who better to make Lydia understand the danger she faced than a young lady of similar age who suffered at the hands of that ne’er-do-well? They are to be sisters, after all.”

That gave him pause. “You are correct, and your wish is my command. I shall ask Georgiana whether she might be willing. Shall we return to the house now? Bingley and Hadley are there.”

“Mr Bingley and Mr Hadley ? Yes! It will be wonderful to see both of them.”

You were not so enthusiastic about my arrival.

“I never mentioned it before, but I think those two share certain similarities. Do you not agree? ”

“Yes, clever lady. Their mothers were sisters.”

They returned to the house, where Darcy was pleased to see his sister sitting and chatting with Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Mary, and Bingley. Their mother was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Hadley.

At an opportune moment, he took Georgiana aside to quietly make the necessary enquiry, and, to his utter astonishment, she readily agreed.

“Where is Hadley?”

“He saw you and Miss Elizabeth through the window and went out to the lawn.”

So, to the lawn went Darcy and the two most important ladies in his life. There, they joined Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia, and introductions were made.

“I thought Hadley was out here,” said Darcy.

“Oh, he was.” Miss Catherine had either caught too much sun or was blushing. “Mr Hadley spotted you and Lizzy walking towards the house and thought you were ready to leave. You just missed him. He must have gone round the other way.”

Between Georgiana and Miss Lydia there ensued so much of friendliness, of flattery, of everything warm, and of so many polysyllabic words from his sister that Darcy had to give Georgiana a discreet nudge.

“Miss Lydia,” she said, reminded of her mission, “I noticed a pretty little tangled garden on one side of your lawn, and my brother and I should like to take a turn about it, if you will accompany us.”

As the three walked towards the little wilderness, the youngest Bennet linked arms with her new friend but frequently looked back towards the lawn. “Where did Lizzy and Kitty go? No matter. There really is nothing special to see in this neglected garden but… Oh, look! ”

On one side of the garden was an overgrown jumble of bramble thickets, vines, and bracken. Against a crumbling wall, fragrant, sprawling rose bushes ran wild over everything in their path. The gurgle of a spring could be heard; and amidst the wildness, in a little clearing, stood a massive willow with branches trailing to the ground. From a nest somewhere above, within the gnarled crooks of its branches, hatchling robins chirped, begging to be fed.

“Mother Nature has prevailed here, but someone has been busy. See? Flowers have been planted in the tree stumps over there. Perhaps it was Kitty. She told me she had taken up gardening again.” Dropping onto a weathered, splintering wooden bench, Miss Lydia beckoned Georgiana to join her.

“I shall stand, thank you.”

“Kitty is so odd. La! I cannot abide rooting in soil like a pig after truffles. Nor can I abide muddy hems. Hereabouts there is little point in wearing such a fine gown as yours, Miss Darcy, to trudge along muddy cart tracks. How I long for the clean, raised walks of Brighton and the company of officers in their scarlet coats.”

“I regret,” said Darcy, with not a whit of remorse, “that it was necessary to curtail your Brighton sojourn. But I assure you it was done with the very best of intentions.”

Best of intentions, indeed. Such had been the case when he had warned Bingley away from Miss Bennet and when he had withdrawn from the tournament at Oakwood.

But this is different. “Mr Wickham is not to be trusted. And you, young lady, were in peril there…and, perhaps, here, should he return.”

“You are wrong about him.” The girl’s tone was both defiant and smug. “And I hope the lieutenant does return for me. Then we shall wed, as he promised.”

One glance at Georgiana’s concerned face convinced Darcy that she, too, feared for her future sister. “Should Mr Wickham discover my affiliation with your family,” he said, “the reprobate may try to destroy our happiness by coercing or tempting you into a situation that ultimately would result in your ruin and risk the good reputation of all your sisters. I am sorry to say that the lieutenant will not willingly marry you. He is a scoundrel of the highest degree.”

“It is well known, sir, how badly you treated that dear man.” Miss Lydia’s tone had become as cold and sharp as icicles.

You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns. “My sister wishes to have a private word with you, but whatever Georgiana tells you must remain a secret. She will be entrusting you with what could be incendiary information. Miss Elizabeth knows of it. Otherwise, we have been able to keep the matter strictly confidential. May I have your solemn promise that you will not tell a soul, not even Miss Catherine? May we depend on you?” Am I mad, thinking Lydia Bennet might be trustworthy?

“Why should I keep this secret of yours? What shall I gain by doing so? Besides, I shall not believe a word said against my dear Wickham.”

Georgiana’s eyes flew wide at such impertinence. “What will you gain? My brother just explained that very thing to you. It is not what you will gain . It is what you will not lose . Our aim is to keep you safe from harm.” She sat beside Miss Lydia and made a shooing gesture at Darcy.

While the two young ladies spoke within the garden, he paced outside its gate. Finally, he heard them bidding one another ‘good day’. Miss Lydia ran off towards the house without so much as a glance at him.

Looking enervated, Georgiana approached. “I told her all, Brother. Then, I am ashamed to confess, I bribed her. ”

“You did what ?”

“If Miss Lydia does not breathe a word of all that I have revealed, I promised to purchase a lovely new gown for her.”

As they walked towards the house, Georgiana added, “Every quarter day.”