Chapter 24 Lady Elizabeth’s courage rises with every attempt to intimidate her.
Lady Elizabeth’s courage rises with every attempt to intimidate her.
London
Just after first light, Elizabeth rose and quietly dressed herself. Jane, who was sharing a room with her at the Gardiners’ home, woke and looked at her sister with bleary eyes.
“Why are you up so early, Lizzy?”
“I was having dreams about the attention we received at the theatre last evening. They made me nervous about going to Almack’s tonight, and I could not sleep.”
“Are you already dressed? I did not hear Sally.”
“I am going to take a turn about the garden to calm my thoughts.”
“You should not go out alone.”
“Do not worry. Jenkins and Roberts will most certainly be watching me, as much as I dislike the constant attention. You go back to sleep now.” Jane, who was barely awake, obliged her without complaint.
Elizabeth was used to stealing out alone early in the morning before the rest of the family awoke.
It had been a habit all her life; her independent stubbornness would not allow her to feel hemmed in.
The servants were up and bustling about to prepare for the day, but because of the lateness of their return from the theatre the previous night, most of the others would be abed for hours.
She slipped through a side door into the garden then along the lane towards the nearby park.
She hurried across the street, passing a servant from another household who greeted her with a tug on his forelock.
When she reached the park, she slowed her pace as she strolled along the well-marked path between the flowers and bushes.
The little poppies were opening their faces for the day, and the park looked golden and smelled fresh from a light rain the night before.
She heard a rustling nearby and turned to see where the noise had come from but saw nothing but a squirrel rushing up a nearby tree.
She laughed, skipped a bit, and broke into a short run, exhilarated by the exercise and the freedom.
The morning was still chilly, so she turned her face to the sun as it gently moved higher in the sky.
After a few moments savouring its warmth, Elizabeth turned back to continue her ramble.
Stopping at the pond, she watched the ducks awakening from their slumber, lifting their heads off their backs little by little and then diving for food, their colourful bottoms sticking out of the water.
She giggled and walked on near a procession of rhododendrons resplendent in their colour, shaded from the morning sun by a grove of several large plane trees.
She paused to enjoy the beauty of the prettily situated bushes.
Having completed her perusal of the pink balls of flowers that the rhododendrons so proudly displayed, Elizabeth decided she had walked far enough and turned back along the same path, once again distracted by the beauty of her surroundings and her happy solitude.
Upon rounding the corner past the copse, she was distracted by the little birds gaily singing and gazed up at them.
When they rushed off their perches in unison, she realized she was not alone.
The glow of sunlight made her squint to see who was approaching.
A woman moved towards her unhurriedly. Although surprised to see another person up so early, Elizabeth was not alarmed: the woman was dressed as a gentlewoman, though her clothes were not in the latest fashion.
She wore a cap and a large bonnet that partly concealed her face, and she did not look up as she spoke.
“Good morning, miss.”
Elizabeth carefully regarded this stranger. “Good morning.”
“I came out for an early walk and seem to have lost my way. Can you direct me towards Noble Lane?” The woman sounded somewhat worried.
“I am not sure I can help you. I came from Gracechurch Street; is it near there?” Elizabeth asked.
“I think so. Can you direct me?”
“Of course. I was just returning myself.”
“Thank you very much. I do appreciate it.”
“My name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” Elizabeth, unused to her new name and a bit self-conscious of her title, chose to recall the name she had known for most of her life.
“I am called Mrs. Younge. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” The two ladies curtseyed.
With Elizabeth’s instruction, they continued in the direction from which Mrs. Younge had come.
As they walked, Elizabeth was unsure as to why she felt slightly uncomfortable in this woman’s presence.
On several occasions, she looked at the woman, but Mrs. Younge did not look up.
Elizabeth decided that her companion was shy and hiding behind her bonnet.
As she was considering this, the ladies were halted by a voice Elizabeth immediately recognized.
“Miss Bennet. Or should I say Lady Elizabeth?” Wickham’s voice was mocking.
Although she prided herself on her courage, and since the attack, had been resolute that she would not allow herself to be intimidated, Elizabeth was full of trepidation. She hoped that her disquiet would go unnoticed by Mrs. Younge; she did not want to alarm the other lady.
Silently chastising herself for walking out without Roberts and Jenkins, she considered whether there would be anyone else nearby upon whom she could rely for assistance.
She thought of the servant she had seen earlier and wished she had not walked so far.
She considered grabbing Mrs. Younge and attempting to run away but discounted that idea since Wickham would surely catch them given their encumbrance of long skirts.
At least with the other woman as witness, there could be no accusations of an untoward situation by Wickham.
“What a pleasure to see you and your companion walking out on such a lovely morning, my lady!” he said as he rounded upon them. “How fortunate you have found a place with such beauty for an early morning promenade. Tell me, do you think the city park measures up to the countryside?”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, and she gritted her teeth. Despite her fear, she was angry at Wickham’s effrontery. She was about to challenge his familiarity with country walks but then reconsidered her manners and dropped her gaze, for she did not want to aggravate him with any impertinence.
“I understand I am to offer you joy on your engagement to Mr. Darcy. He is a very lucky man to have won the hand of such a beauty,” Wickham said almost blithely. “He and I were good friends as children. Perhaps you can speak to him on my behalf since I miss his companionship deeply.”
He then turned his attention to the lady standing beside Elizabeth. “Can you introduce me to your friend?”
Mrs. Bertha Younge was an enterprising woman. She had done well in her current occupation, even though it was several steps below her prior work as a lady’s companion. Her only weakness was her passion for George Wickham.
Claiming he could not live without her nocturnal charms, he had arrived at her doorstep the week before.
She knew when she was being taken in; in all likelihood, a new scheme to gain riches or importance was on his mind, and he needed her to take a risk on his behalf.
This time, he claimed he had been ill-used and forced into hiding in the interminable warrens of London.
He did not even try to persuade; rather, he commanded that she discover ways for him to achieve his ends undetected, and to act on his behalf without his exposure. His cocksure nature angered her.
As usual, he promised a share of the proceeds. She hoped rather than believed that he would obtain the riches he claimed were there for the taking. He returned in the dead of night two days ago, demanding a report on her progress.
“There are two enormous footmen consistently attending the Lydon sisters and the other ladies when they make their excursions,” Mrs. Younge reported. “They arrive in Gracechurch Street before breakfast and do not return to Darcy House until all the inmates of the Gardiner home have retired.”
“Then it appears I need more than your feminine charms,” he said. “I need muscle. Anyone for hire in Seven Dials will do.” It was clear he was impatient by the way he issued orders to her.
She shook her head. “I cannot convince brutish fellows to help you in your enterprises, at least not without some form of payment beforehand. I promised them a reward once you become successful, but I was laughed at. It seems you have made a few enemies.” She knew he was desperate without funds at the present time, and he was not known for keeping his promises of future payment.
Wickham huffed and looked at the ground. She had intentionally left a silence between them for a few moments.
“However, I did see a break in the times the guards were near Elizabeth.” That caught his attention, and he looked at her expectantly.
“Twice, she has walked out alone very early in the morning,” said she, “and returned before Darcy’s brutes arrived. Thus far, she has not yet been caught by any of her family or their servants. She chooses to walk in a park near her relatives’ home in Cheapside.”
She smiled to herself as he brazenly outlined his strategy. He fancied himself a brilliant tactician, above all others in intelligence, but had no ability to take his own culpability for mistakes seriously and constantly looked for someone to blame.
This time, she would not be held responsible. This time, she would have the upper hand. There might even be a bit of revenge in it for his history of using her ill.
It was easy to decide her next step. She had already made sure that Darcy would have very little trouble finding the boarding house she was running in a less respectable part of London.
She was not even out of a great deal of pocket change, since it was easy to take advantage of those who were exceedingly grateful for the small token she proffered.