Without Vanity or Pride: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Duology

Chapter 4

Witnessing the relief in the eyes of the woman he adored, Darcy had never experienced such a contrariety of emotions in all of his eight and twenty years of living. What the devil was the blackguard still doing in Hertfordshire? Why had his own arrival prompted a look of such profound consolation and gratitude on Elizabeth’s beautiful face? Had Wickham been importuning her, his own sister-in-law?

Bingley dismounted upon their arrival and was in the midst of exchanging enthusiastic pleasantries with Elizabeth, though Darcy noted that even the jovial Bingley appeared to detect the tension between Mr Wickham and his new sister. When he finally succeeded in pulling his attention from Elizabeth’s expressive features, anxiously ascertaining her welfare, Darcy dismounted and joined the somewhat awkward conversation.

“We must be frightfully early for a morning call, but I told Darcy that I simply could not wait to see my neighbours once more,” Bingley chattered on in a rather agitated fashion. “You told me, did you not, Darcy, that we might do better to wait another hour?”

“I did indeed, but it does not follow that our timing was unfortunate,” Darcy replied with a searching look in Elizabeth’s direction. Her small smile spoke of agreement, which only confirmed in Darcy’s mind that they had interrupted an altercation of some sort.

“You are, of course, most welcome, Mr Bingley. My mother and sisters are in the sitting room now, and I know they will be delighted to see you again.” Elizabeth turned to face Darcy and spoke in a halting, almost hopeful tone. “I am pleased to see you as well, sir. You are welcome at Longbourn—I…um, well, that is, would you like to join us inside?”

It was clear to Darcy that she wished to say more, and the hope that began to fill his chest was sharply checked by the nervous glance she directed at Wickham as she made her invitation. Intent upon discovering the reason for his continued presence in Hertfordshire, Darcy made his excuses.

“I shall be sure to join you in but a moment. Bingley, could you escort Miss Elizabeth inside? I wish to speak to Mr Wickham.”

With a smile, Bingley offered his arm and prattled away, peppering Elizabeth with questions as he returned her to the safety of her home. “Well, Miss Elizabeth, perhaps you can tell me of the rest of your travels. We were most pleased to encounter you at Pemberley this summer. In fact…”

Wickham’s eyebrows rose at the mention of Elizabeth’s visit to Pemberley. For not the first time, Darcy cursed Bingley’s glib tongue, for he knew it would not take long for Wickham to discover his feelings for Elizabeth—that is, if he had not already done so.

“Why are you not in Newcastle?”

“What, no greetings for your old friend, Darcy?”

“We have not been friends in an age. Answer me. Why have you not taken up your commission? I made the terms of your marriage settlement perfectly clear.”

“Calm yourself, old man. My wife is suffering from a sprained ankle—her own fault, mind you—and the apothecary recommended that we stay on for a time. I have written to my commanding officer explaining all. You need not always assume the worst of me.”

“Experience has taught me otherwise.”

Darcy observed his former companion with a shrewd eye. He did not appear to be lying this time, but that did not mean he was innocent of all mischief. There was, of course, the situation with Elizabeth that Darcy and Bingley had clearly interrupted. But how to warn him off without placing Elizabeth under further scrutiny?

“You know, I am surprised to see you here. I never detected any preference for my wife’s family on your part, even during our time in London. Yet, here you are.”

“I agreed to accompany my friend who wished to return to his leased estate. Longbourn is his closest neighbour, so my presence should not be so wholly unexpected.” Darcy paused before continuing, sending a hard look at his father’s godson. “I will have your word that our arrangements in London will not be revealed to the family. The Bennets do not need to know of my involvement in your marriage. If my father had known of this, I cannot think but how disgusted he would be to learn his patronage was wasted on a most unworthy recipient.”

Wickham bristled at the mention of Darcy’s father before responding with a calculating gleam in his eye. “And what is my silence worth to you? My poor wife and I could certainly use an increase in our funds, what with the apothecary’s bills to pay, you understand. Not to mention that it will be quite difficult to control Lydia’s tongue, though with the promise of a few new dresses, she might be more compliant.”

“It is your task to manage your wife. I did not run off with a child. And before you even think of extorting more money from the Darcy coffers, let me remind you that my cousin is most unhappy with the settlements I already made on your behalf. Fitzwilliam would be eager to have your commission altered to a foreign outpost, so unless you wish to join the fighting in Spain, I suggest you rein in your speech until your departure.”

Wickham’s countenance paled significantly at the mention of Colonel Fitzwilliam. Scoffing inwardly, Darcy felt distinctly unimpressed with his former playmate’s utter cravenness. Fitzwilliam would relish the opportunity to tan Wickham’s hide—a fact the bounder must well know. In this instance, Darcy’s resources extended well beyond his pecuniary advantages. Unfortunately, it did not take too long for the cur to rally, and Darcy was even more displeased by his new topic of conversation.

“I had not known that my new sister visited Pemberley this summer. Elizabeth is an enticing woman—beautiful, witty, spirited…”

“You will watch your tongue,” Darcy warned in a menacing tone.

“You are far too easy to read, my old friend. Really? A country nothing? The great Fitzwilliam Darcy has finally lost his heart to a penniless bit of skirt! What would your dear, departed, lady mother say?”

Darcy reached forward and grabbed Wickham by the lapels of his coat, “I said, you will watch your tongue. If you disparage her again, I assure you that your remaining visit will be tortuous indeed.”

Wickham wrenched himself out of Darcy’s hold, angry but apparently willing to antagonise his old nemesis further.

“Poor old Darcy, to love a woman who despises you. She preferred me, you know, and loathed the very sight of you. Even with all your wealth, I doubt Pemberley was enough to change her mind.” With a smug expression, Wickham continued. “You know, I have always taken great pleasure in depriving you of what you wanted most—your father’s love and now Elizabeth’s. You have every advantage, yet I can best you still.”

Breathing deeply to calm his temper, Darcy recognised the fallacy in Wickham’s taunts. He had already lost control beyond his usual wont. He would not give the worthless lout standing before him another measure of his composure.

Pulling on the cuffs of his jacket, Darcy replied in an even, steady tone. “You have deprived me of nothing. I know who my father was—I possess no uncertainty regarding his esteem or care. As for Miss Elizabeth, my faults are my own, and your actions matter little to me.” Darcy directed a scathing look at Wickham and continued. “You will, however, desist in whatever game you think you are playing with her. I saw her disquiet as we arrived, and I will not stand for it. Have you not attempted to harm her family enough?”

Before Wickham could respond, anger once again building in his eyes, Mrs Bennet ventured out from the entryway.

“There you are, Mr Wickham! Lydia has been requesting your presence for nigh on fifteen minutes! I simply cannot stand to see my poor girl suffer. Come, you must attend her at once!”

“Yes, you should see to your wife, sir,” Darcy concurred before bowing in the matron’s direction. “If you will excuse me, Mrs Bennet, I would like to take a short stroll in the garden before joining my friend in your parlour.”

“Of course, sir.” With a stiff nod that lacked the civility so frequently shown to Bingley, Mrs Bennet added, “I hope you find our gardens meet your approval, though they have lost several blooms to the season.”

“I am sure they are still beautiful, ma’am,” Darcy replied with what he hoped was a polite smile, though owing to the taxing nature of his recent conversation, might well have been a grimace. He quickly set off along a side path as Wickham joined his mother-in-law.

Wandering past a flowering patch of hydrangeas and pale purple asters, Darcy pondered the wisdom of returning to Hertfordshire. Though it was true that he had not intended to meet with Wickham on this trip, did he really hope to conceal all of his actions from Elizabeth regarding her sister’s elopement? The current situation was untenable, yet what choice did he have? Now that he had seen her, he could not possibly leave.

“Mr Darcy?”

Startled, he turned to see Elizabeth standing before him in the garden. Sunlight brightened her chestnut locks and accentuated the healthy glow of her cheeks. She was so very lovely, and the sight of her brought joy to Darcy’s heart, even in the midst of his worry.

“Pray forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. I hope your family does not feel slighted by my delayed arrival?”

“Oh! Oh no, I merely wished to see that all is well. To be frank, my family is mostly preoccupied by Mr Bingley’s return, so I do not believe they have noticed your absence. I-I thought I would invite you to join us, though I understand if you wish to remain here.”

“I would be quite happy to join you. Your gardens are lovely, and I simply wished for a respite after—well, the less said the better, I suppose.”

Elizabeth seemed to sense his need for a change in topic, for she reached out a hand to stroke a green-tipped hydrangea as she commented, “It is nothing to Pemberley, I dare say, but I have always enjoyed the autumn blooms we cultivate here.”

“My preferences aside, Pemberley and Derbyshire need not be the standard for beauty in nature everywhere. This is quite a charming prospect.”

As Darcy observed Elizabeth amongst the flowers, he realised somewhat belatedly that this was the first private conversation they had enjoyed since he left her at the inn at Lambton. She had been so often in his thoughts—the driving force behind most of his actions since her rejection of his hand in April—that he could hardly believe she was truly before him. Would all of their interactions be overshadowed by the mistakes of the past?

“You seem preoccupied, sir. Shall I leave you to your contemplations?”

Elizabeth regarded him intently, apprehension and worry in her eyes. Not wishing to distress her further, Darcy collected himself before presenting his arm.

“No, I thank you. I am ready to join the party.”

Pleased at her acceptance of his arm, Darcy pondered the great task before him while Elizabeth led him to her family’s sitting room. To remain by her side, he would have to endure the presence of the Wickhams for an as yet unknown period of time—an arduous task, indeed.