Chapter 5 Seize the Day #2
Fitzwilliam explained the nature of his business with Wickham and Miss Elizabeth’s role in the man’s apprehension. He noted that Wickham’s charm easily persuaded most young ladies and that he admired her decisive set-down of Wickham’s impertinence.
Bennet seemed amused by the story, chuckling aloud at the image of the man snivelling of mistreatment at his daughter’s hand.
“I am appalled that the incident transpired as it did, with no one close enough to act on her behalf. As it is, she struck Wickham with considerable force. I would be remiss if I did not apologise and enquire as to her well-being. To be honest, I was most favourably impressed, Mr Bennet, at the quickness and protective nature Miss Elizabeth displayed. And that she is a very handsome woman, with damn fine eyes, is not insignificant either. Will you consent to an introduction?”
Bennet removed his spectacles and placed them on his desk, brow raised. “While I appreciate your concern for my daughter, Colonel, you are simply passing through. We have had adequate experience with your friends and their particular attention. You should continue with your official business.”
Before Fitzwilliam could respond, there came a knock at the door. Bennet seemed disgruntled but called, “Enter.”
Miss Elizabeth opened the door, followed by an older servant with a tray laden with tea things. The colonel gained his feet. The tray was placed, and the servant withdrew after a quiet “Thank you, Hill” from the young lady.
“I apologise for the interruption… however, Mama suggested your guest join us for tea. I persuaded her that I would bring you tea instead.”
When they were again seated, she prepared a cup for each of them, glancing at him frequently. When he met her gaze, her visage seemed both amused and curious. A lovely blush bloomed when her father cleared his throat.
“Colonel, may I introduce to you my second daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Elizabeth, this is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. He was fortunate to witness your encounter with Mr Wickham this morning and has come to enquire about you girls, and to request an introduction.” He did not miss that Bennet closely studied him as he greeted his daughter.
Miss Elizabeth dipped a graceful curtsey to his bow. Fitzwilliam was pleased to note that she frequently sought his reaction, though not in an unseemly manner. She was lovely! Her proximity stole his breath. He smiled and spoke respectfully.
“Miss Elizabeth, I will own that I was particularly concerned that you may have done yourself an injury when you struck Wickham. That was quite a blow.”
“I appreciate that you would venture to Longbourn to enquire after our well-being, Colonel.” She appeared somewhat sheepish. “I will admit to some discomfort in my hand and wrist, but, as you see, I am well.” She lifted her arm.
“Indeed, you look very well, Miss Elizabeth.” She glanced away, but he detected a tilt of her lips.
“I did note your men approaching just as the”—she cleared her throat—“encounter unfolded. We observed your men taking the miscreant away and overheard some of the charges against him. It was a shock to learn he was such a man. Was there something that you required of me?”
“Oh no, Miss Elizabeth. Our business with Wickham is well in hand. My men and I will escort him to London for his crimes.
“I was quite impressed with your swift action in response to Wickham’s…impertinence. This, coupled with the high praise of your neighbours, fixed my determination to meet you, and, with your father’s permission, request to call upon you.”
Miss Elizabeth seemed surprised, and her cheeks reddened. She peered back and forth between him and her father, who apparently enjoyed the performance. Her head tilted as she seemed to consider his request.
“I thank you for the compliment, sir, but your request seems precipitate. You know nothing of me but what you have witnessed today. And I, sir, know nothing of you.” She gave him a wry smirk. “Or why you would consider calling on the daughter of a country squire.”
“I have not the time, today, for you to learn much of me, but I can offer a bit about myself.” Fitzwilliam offered an eloquent, though brief, description of the years he had spent serving in various postings, his family, and his search for a companion to share his life.
He confessed that he had been intrigued when his cousin had spoken of the two elder Bennet sisters as admirable women, both intelligent and kind.
That he considered the encounter with Wickham an opportunity to make her acquaintance.
His voice was lower, less assured as he continued. “I know my request seems sudden. I am not an impulsive man, as a rule, but I have learnt to trust my judgement. I see before me an admirable woman, gently born, and recommended by the approbation of her neighbours.”
Miss Elizabeth exchanged a glance with her father, and Bennet wiggled his brows.
“Miss Elizabeth, I came to Longbourn drawn by attraction and curiosity, but I am not a green boy nor a cad. You are the first woman I have been drawn to enough to pursue a connexion since I was a youth. I want to call upon you to determine whether we may suit. I hope you will be brave enough to meet me halfway.”
Mr Bennet barked a laugh, “Well, Lizzy, what do you think of that? The colonel seems to have taken your measure, I would say.”
“Father!”
Miss Elizabeth leapt to her feet and rushed from the room. He gawped in confusion from the door to her father, who shook his head and smirked.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Colonel? Go after her. You should find her in the garden towards the stables.”
Fitzwilliam found her just where her father said, pacing.
“Miss Elizabeth…”
She held up her hand, “A moment, sir.”
Finally, she stopped before him, and he felt her small, cold hand touch his arm. Her face shone with something like reluctant hope, stirring a fire in his soul.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam. You have been remarkably forthcoming for a man who saw me this day for the first time—and apparently found me more than just tolerable.” There was a twist to her lips, wry humour in her tone.
“I will take your example and strive to be equally frank. I, too, felt a confusing and compelling attraction when I first saw you. I have experienced girlish infatuation and indulged in mild flirtation. But I have never been courted. You discomfit and disarm me with your assurance, your determination.” She averted her gaze.
“My sister Jane is the beauty of our family. She has spent her life guarding her heart and reputation from undeserving men who see the image, not the woman inside. This autumn, the neighbouring estate of Netherfield hosted the Bingley party. Mr Bingley seemed attached to my sister, enthralled by her beauty, and publicly courted her. She trusted him with her heart. Then, after expectations had been raised, he left, with no farewell and no apparent intention to return.”
Her expression seemed conflicted.
“You act upon the attraction of a moment. Why should I trust my heart and potentially my future to you? How can I know that you will not engage my feelings and expectations only to leave and never return? And if I did trust you, what then? If your cousin would so disdain any connexion with my family for the son of a tradesman, would he not more so oppose a connexion to his own cousin?”
She stepped away, her hands fisting at her sides.
Fitzwilliam was even more decided. Miss Elizabeth displayed such passion in defence of her sister and such emotion in her struggle to trust him—would not this passion, if he could win her regard and love, make her a “pearl of great price”?
He stepped closer, speaking softly.
“Miss Elizabeth, peace. I am not Bingley, a young man easily swayed by others. I am my own man.” He gently encouraged her to face him. “I must rejoin my men soon if we are to make London before dark. Will you give this a chance, Miss Elizabeth? Will you allow me to call upon you?”
Finally, she nodded, and they stepped apart.
“You may call, sir.” She grimaced adorably. “You have yet to meet my family, and Jane. We shall see if your ardour survives.”
Fitzwilliam released his breath slowly, resisting the exhilaration surging inside. He grinned, pleased at the shy smile he received in return as she took his arm and led him into the house.
He bade farewell to Mr Bennet, securing his permission to write.
They were more than ready to turn Wickham over upon arrival in London. One look at the gaoler and the miscreant had resorted to begging, demanding to see Darcy in the hope of rescue. The heavy gates closed on his pleas.
Fitzwilliam completed his report with satisfaction, then removed to Darcy House. He anticipated sharing his news with his cousin. Wickham was no longer the albatross around their necks.
The butler let Fitzwilliam into the house, advising him that Mr Darcy was expected home for dinner after meeting Mr Bingley at the club.
In the study, he availed himself of a glass of brandy and, reclining on his favourite sofa before the fire, closed his eyes to consider the finer qualities of one Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
It was in this attitude that Darcy found him some time later. Fitzwilliam roused himself at his cousin’s welcome.
“Fitz. You are back so soon? What of Wickham?” Darcy poured himself a glass of the brandy and waved the bottle at him. He shook his head.
“Darcy, you will be pleased to know that Wickham will no longer be a thorn in your side. Indeed, the business was completed with little effort on my part. A local miss dispatched him as neatly as I have ever seen. Even you would have been impressed.” He smirked.
After an amusing description of the event, he continued.
“Wickham whinged all the way to the gaol.”
He could tell his cousin was conflicted. They could both remember a time when George Wickham was a friend. He refilled his glass and lifted it in a toast. They drank deeply.
“Now to my news. Congratulate me, Cousin, for I have met my future wife.”