Chapter XVII #2
“Miss Bennet,” said he, “I cannot begin to tell you how pleased I am that you and Darcy have come to an understanding.”
“Oh?” asked Elizabeth, offering him a saucy reply. “Would you not wish for your cousin to find someone more of his sphere?”
The colonel chuckled, his glance at Mr. Gardiner looking for someone with whom to commiserate. Mr. Gardiner did not hesitate to oblige him.
“You have the right of it—Elizabeth is this way with everyone she meets. When she is introduced to your parents, she will not hesitate to use humor to disarm them.”
The colonel released a quiet laugh, but Elizabeth huffed and directed her not inconsiderable—though feigned—displeasure at them both. “If you please, I would not have you speak of me when I am here.”
“Capital offense, indeed,” murmured Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“No, Miss Elizabeth. To answer your question, I have never had any misconceptions about what Darcy requires in a wife. Though many in society speak of pedigree and great wealth as if they are the only considerations, Darcy has both, and needs something more from marriage. Unless I misjudge you both, you will find it together.”
“And your parents?” asked Elizabeth, a slight measure of uncertainty slipping out. “What of the opinionated Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”
Again the colonel chuckled. “Lady Catherine is what she is, Miss Bennet—should Darcy present anyone other than Anne as his future wife, the lady will fly into a fury. That should not concern you—Darcy will handle Lady Catherine, and my father will involve himself if he must.”
“Then he will not disapprove of me?” challenged she.
Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged as if it did not signify.
“My father is a man who understands his position, but I do not think he is any prouder than any other man of his rank. Two factors will assist you: the first is that he is fond of Darcy and wants his happiness, and the second is that he will wish to avoid any gossip. My mother will be even easier to please—she merely wishes to see Darcy married and the future of Pemberley secure.”
For a moment, he fell silent, then displeasure came over him, though Elizabeth could see at once that it was in jest. “Perhaps I should disapprove of this marriage, for it will place me in my mother’s sights as the only unmarried man remaining in the immediate family.”
“An uncomfortable position to be certain!” chortled Uncle Gardiner.
“I can still introduce you to my sisters,” teased Elizabeth. “Kitty would find you very agreeable should you appear in your regimentals. Mary would not find the color scarlet so appealing, but if you pay her attention, I imagine you could charm even her.”
“Do not promise such calamities, Lizzy!” said her uncle. “You may send him fleeing before he has even rendered his assistance.”
“Your suggestion intrigues me, Miss Bennet,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam, a gleam in his eye. “Unfortunately, I must decline, unless one of your sisters possesses a fabulous fortune. If you recall, I must marry with some attention to money.”
“Sadly, no,” replied Elizabeth. “Neither possesses more than I do myself.”
“Then I must still search for the one woman in London who will have me,” replied a mournful colonel. “It is the lot of a younger son, but a cross I must bear.”
Mr. Gardiner invited them to sit, and they did so, the colonel refusing any need for refreshment.
He was just as Elizabeth remembered—easy in company, jovial, a ready wit, and interesting to speak to.
For a moment, Elizabeth wondered what might have been if Colonel Fitzwilliam had possessed enough to make her an offer—the interest he had shown at Rosings had not been feigned, or so she supposed.
As that was a topic that led nowhere good, Elizabeth pushed it away, determined not to consider it again.
Though he was an excellent and amiable man, she was to marry Mr. Darcy, and her esteem for the quiet gentleman was rising apace.
The colonel would be valuable as a source of support when the day arrived for her introduction to his parents, but from this point, she meant to regard him only as Mr. Darcy’s close cousin and, she hoped, a friend.
“First, I should say that I already have some men searching for Wickham,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, turning to the business foremost in all their minds. “Thanks to Darcy’s knowledge of his former associate, we have some notion of where to look.”
“I thank you most sincerely, Colonel,” said Mr. Gardiner. “I agree with your cousin’s sentiment—we would have had no notion of where to search.”
The colonel shrugged, though his gaze was bright with anticipation. “Wickham is not a difficult man to understand, so long as you assume he will always do what he pleases. Certain events have given Darcy an insight about where he will flee, and to whom he will apply for succor.”
“Then you suppose that finding him will not be difficult?”
“It depends,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. “If matters proceed as I suspect, we may find him today. If certain of Wickham’s acquaintances prove difficult, it may delay us. But I expect little difficulty in the end.”
Thereafter, they avoided the topic of Mr. Wickham, knowing nothing more needed to be said until Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy returned.
Though she knew a few moments made little difference, Elizabeth still chafed at the delay.
Mr. Darcy needed to speak to her father, but the need to reprimand her silly sister burned within her.
When the two men returned, there was an amity between them that gave Elizabeth hope, though she had not considered it before that moment.
It was imperative that the father she adored and the man she married at least be capable of civility with each other—it appeared each man had taken the other’s measure more carefully than ever before. That was a welcome development, indeed.
“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet when he stopped into the room, “it appears you have found a gentleman with more sense than the rest of us.”
“Sense?” demanded Colonel Fitzwilliam, though he gave Mr. Darcy a sly look. “I wonder if you know Darcy at all, Mr. Bennet. The sensible thing would have been to clap Wickham in chains years ago.”
“Perhaps I should have,” said Mr. Darcy, unperturbed. “I shall act against him now.”
“Let us complete the formalities before we move to that topic,” said Mr. Bennet. “Though I suspect Mr. Darcy would have proved difficult to discourage, your assurances relieved me of that duty, Lizzy. Thus, I give my blessing to you both.”
“Thank you, Papa,” said Elizabeth, standing and going to him.
“There is a price, of course,” said Mr. Bennet. “You may become fatigued with my presence, but I have heard something of an excellent library at your estate. When the occasion permits it, you must allow me to sample its delights.”
“That is no trouble,” said Mr. Darcy. “If you wish for an account of it beforehand, speak with Miss Bennet, for she has seen it.”
“Trust me, Darcy,” replied Mr. Bennet. “I mean to do just that.”
Mr. Bennet sat then, and his expression became serious. “Though the business is distasteful, I fear we must turn our attention to my wayward youngest daughter and her paramour.”
“At the risk of giving offense,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “I do not look on the prospect of George Wickham receiving his just desserts with anything other than pleasure.”
“Truly,” said Mr. Bennet. He turned to Mr. Darcy. “Perhaps you should share the contents of your plan with us.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “There is a woman connected to Wickham with whom I have had some experience by the name of Mrs. Younge. Mrs. Younge has a house on Edward Street and makes her living by renting out the rooms.”
“You suppose we will find them there?” asked Mr. Bennet.
After a brief pause, Mr. Darcy said: “That is uncertain, depending on whether she had rooms to let when they approached her. If they are not there, I am certain Mrs. Younge will know where to find them.”
“It will be a matter of wringing the information from her,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Do you suppose she will be amenable to sharing it?” asked Mr. Gardiner.
“She will cooperate,” was Mr. Darcy’s implacable reply. “I shall give her every reason to do so.”
“I have some men watching the house,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “They have orders to report to me if anyone catches sight of Wickham or a young gentlewoman. As yet, I have heard nothing.”
“That might mean nothing,” observed Mr. Bennet. “Wickham will wish to remain out of sight—he must know we are searching for him.”
“He knows you are searching for him,” said Mr. Darcy. “Of my involvement, he knows nothing.”