Chapter 9
Over the next few days, Darcy and Bingley developed a new habit. They spent the mornings riding or shooting, and went to visit the Miss Bennets in the afternoons. Elizabeth’s manner towards Darcy was more wary than welcoming, but at least she didn’t rebuff him. He’d begun to hope.
Evenings, however, were tedious affairs. Caroline refused to invite anyone from the neighbourhood to dine. In fact, she’d grown especially irritable and cutting in her remarks.
Darcy had taken pains to avoid the village of Meryton—and the possibility of seeing Wickham. Caroline and Louisa, though, walked there daily. They reported every sighting of the man and the company he kept.
One morning at breakfast, Caroline turned to Darcy, wearing a genial smile. “Your warning to the Miss Bennets seems to have worked. Yesterday, the five of them were speaking with Mr. Denny when Mr. Wickham approached. Miss Eliza ushered her younger sisters away. But Jane…”
Caroline broke off a moment whilst she buttered a scone. “Well, I shouldn’t say. It’s entirely conjecture.”
“Then we may as well hear it,” Bingley said crossly. Her words about Jane hadn’t been kind lately. Her brother seemed to be losing patience with Caroline’s barbs.
“Well, it’s just… Jane seemed to leave him reluctantly, and looked back at him almost wistfully.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Bingley said. “It saddens her to think ill of anyone. She would rather try to reform him than to cut him. But she must think of her reputation, and that of her sisters.”
“Yes, that’s probably it,” Caroline said. “Dear Jane is such an angel. She can’t bear to see another living creature in pain.”
Darcy gritted his teeth. Caroline’s words dripped with disdain. Something had clearly caused a rift between her and Jane, though he couldn’t imagine what.
That afternoon, as the gentlemen rode to Longbourn, Darcy asked Bingley about it. “I have no idea what has set Caroline off,” Bingley said. “But I’m about to put a stop to it. I won’t hear Miss Bennet disparaged in such a way.”
He didn’t elaborate, so Darcy let the subject drop.
As it was a fine day, Bingley suggested to the Bennet ladies that they all take a walk in the garden. They acquiesced, and in time Bingley managed to get Jane alone. Darcy did the same with Elizabeth.
He offered his arm. She hesitated a moment, then took it. They hadn’t been so close since he’d kissed her. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing.
They walked in silence, listening to the birdsong, to the breeze rustling through the trees. The sun was warm, but the air carried the nip of autumn.
Darcy searched for the right words. For the first time in his life, he would have to prove himself to a woman.
It was a task he was ill suited for. Until now, he’d been pursued.
His reputation had preceded him. He’d never learnt to court, to make small talk, to charm and disarm.
He’d always been on the receiving end of such attentions.
Elizabeth was a challenge. Perhaps that was one reason he liked her. But he had no idea how to break through her shell of benign civility. He was certain that once they began, they would have no trouble continuing. But how to start?
He was about to speak when she began, “Mr. Darcy, I’m afraid I have a confession to make.”
At first he thought she was teasing, but he turned to see tension in her face. He laid his gloved hand atop hers where it rested on his arm. “Whatever it is, it can be nothing too terrible,” he encouraged.
She let out a quick sigh. “My father is not the sort to be bothered by a minor inconvenience such as a broken latch on his study door. The door sometimes falls open a crack, and private conversations might be overheard.”
Darcy froze. He had spoken to Mr. Bennet there in the most confidential of terms. He’d wished to address the situation with Wickham. But Darcy had also broached the subject of his feelings for Elizabeth.
Darcy vividly recalled his words. “Whilst your daughters were at Netherfield,” he had said to Mr. Bennet, “I came to know Miss Elizabeth better. I ask your permission to court her.”
Bennet had stared at him. It seemed to take him a moment to gather his wits. “Did my daughter…encourage your interest?”
Darcy considered the question. It wasn’t easy to answer. Certainly, when Darcy had kissed her, she’d kissed him back. At first, at least. But he could hardly tell her father that.
“She…that is to say, I’m aware her feelings towards me lack the warmth I’d like. I’ve been a clumsy suitor. But I’d like the chance to put that to rights.”
Bennet eyed him assessingly. “Mr. Darcy, I have no reason to object to your suit. But I must confess, I’m not optimistic about the outcome.”
Darcy’s heart fell, and his gut tightened. “I understand. If I made her an offer right now, she might laugh in my face.”
Bennet grinned, his eyes sparkling.
“You find that funny?” Darcy asked—half diverted, half miserable.
“You know my daughter. That’s encouraging, at least. She’s a spirited young woman. Not the sort who would make a biddable wife.”
“Biddable!” Darcy cried. “I should hope not. Her lively spirit is her greatest charm. She would constantly challenge and entertain me. More than a helpmate, she’d be a true partner in life.”
“If that’s what you wish, you couldn’t have chosen better. Lizzy is the best of me, Darcy. I’ll not allow her to marry a man she doesn’t love. But if you win her heart, and you vow to treat her with true kindness and fidelity, then I’ll give you my blessing.”
Bennet’s words had delighted Darcy at the time. Now, though, with Elizabeth on his arm, he couldn’t help but wonder what she’d heard.
Her hesitance protracted his misery. Finally she said, “At first, I thought it best to stay silent. But the more time we spend together, the more awful I feel. Knowing something so intimate, it feels like a lie to pretend ignorance.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” he said, feeling more awkward than perhaps ever before in his life.
“Your sister,” she began again, then a pink blush bloomed on her cheeks.
His sister? What could she be referring to? Then, he remembered. A mix of relief and apprehension flooded him.
She continued, “I heard what you told my father about Mr. Wickham. I promise I shall speak of it to no one. Not even Jane. My heart aches for Miss Darcy. For one so young to be used in that despicable manner! You must have been beside yourself with worry.”
“I would have been, had I not uncovered the scheme in time. Fortunately, Georgiana is an obedient girl, as one her age should be. When I explained the truth, she was mortified. The man had told her he had my permission, you see.”
“What a blackguard!”
“He and I had been friends when she was a girl. I didn’t expose him for what he’d become whilst we were at university. Perhaps I shouldn’t have sheltered her as I did. I never dreamt the man would prey on her.”
Elizabeth nodded pensively. “It’s difficult to know how much to reveal to an innocent girl. To my mind, it’s better to tell her too much rather than too little.”
Darcy could not disagree—not after what had happened to Georgiana.
Elizabeth continued, “I hardly think Lydia benefits from her ignorance. Since neither of my parents sees fit to educate her, I do my best. The officers shower her with attention. It may seem like innocent fun. But if one of them has ill intentions, she could be lured into a desperate situation.”
“Have you discussed it with your father?”
“I have. His solution is to make sure she’s properly chaperoned. But an armed guard might not suffice if she got an idea into her head.”
He eyed Elizabeth seriously. “You worry about her.”
“Perhaps I’ve read too many novels about rakes kidnapping innocent heroines.”
“Or perhaps you’re realistic. What do you know of Wickham’s friend, Mr. Denny?”
She shook her head. “Nothing at all. He says he’s heir to a viscount, and Colonel Forster doesn’t refute it.” She eyed Darcy a moment before continuing. “Would your family know of the viscount—Lord Sturgis?”
“Ah,” Darcy said, the name familiar. “Yes, my uncle knows him. As I understand, his health is in decline, and he hasn’t sat in the House of Lords for some time.
His only son died in a riding accident. The nephew—well, my uncle has nothing good to say of him.
But it’s been some years since I’ve heard Denny’s name spoken. He may have turned respectable.”
“He is friends with Mr. Wickham.”
“I agree, it doesn’t bode well. It would be best to proceed with caution where Denny is concerned.”
They sat on a shaded bench and surveyed the garden spread before them: the beds of dainty marigolds, the blazing foliage of witch hazels, the coppery leaves and peeling bark of plane trees.
Just out of hearing distance, the three youngest Bennet girls played with a spaniel. Beyond them, by the far hedge, Bingley and Jane stood with their hands intertwined. Darcy straightened at the sight. Elizabeth seemed to notice at the same moment.
“Heavens!” she said. “It seems Jane also needs a chaperone.” But a smile wreathed Elizabeth’s face, and her eyes sparkled.
Darcy couldn’t say he was surprised. Bingley had hinted he would silence Caroline’s sniping. An engagement would prove him immune to her sly remarks.
The group returned to the house, and the happy couple ended the suspense. Bingley announced that Jane had made him the happiest of men. Darcy offered his heartfelt congratulations to his friend.
Looking over at Elizabeth, Darcy could see the joy in her expression. Their eyes met, and she gave him a warm smile. He hoped that one day, her joy would be for their own betrothal.
∞∞∞
Caroline awoke feeling queasy, as she had every day for the past week. The news about her brother’s engagement to Jane hadn’t helped matters. What was she to do? Wickham was growing impatient. She must turn the situation around.