Chapter 16
Tuesday Evening
Thanks to Darcy, Charles’s plan to see Jane Bennet had been ruined. He had scarcely spent two minutes in her company before Darcy had dashed off. At least she had pleasantly greeted his twin, which gave him some hope that she still regarded him favourably.
Not that he could entirely blame Darcy for this latest turn of events.
If that Wickham fellow hadn’t come to Meryton, they would have had a delightful morning.
But now, as if he didn’t have enough to worry about, a new threat had emerged.
With Darcy’s childhood friend in the neighbourhood, the risk of exposure was greater than ever. He needed to be even more cautious.
The still greater danger was that the cad would make himself agreeable to Caroline. With a dowry of twenty thousand pound, a fortune hunter like Wickham would find her irresistible. At least she knew of his sordid past and wouldn’t fall prey to him.
“I can well imagine what has you in such a blue mood, Mr Darcy.”
Caroline’s comment brought Charles back to his senses. He was supposed to be playing whist, but he had allowed his mind to wander.
“You were thinking of your dear sister and wish to be reunited with her,” she said with a knowing smile.
At least she had been half right; he had, indeed, been thinking of his sister. “I suspect she is busy with her studies,” he said, rearranging his cards.
“I never knew a more diligent student with such natural talent,” she said.
The last thing he wanted to do was encourage another lengthy commentary about Miss Darcy. He put down his cards and retreated from the table. “I’m in no mood for cards tonight.”
“Nor am I,” Darcy said, coming to his defence. “Perhaps you might favour us with some music, Caroline.”
When Caroline glanced expectantly at Charles, as though seeking his approval, he gave her a curt nod and turned away.
How infuriating that, even in Charles’s household, Darcy’s preference took precedence over his own. Now cast further into gloom, he took up the newspaper and lamented the injustice of his position. No man had ever been treated so unjustly.
Perhaps he ought to be glad. At least now as Darcy’s twin, he was truly master of Netherfield.
He ought to use this change in circumstances to his best advantage and arrange matters just as he chose.
Since Caroline always deferred to Darcy’s wishes, he would decide what was served at meals, whether they played whist or piquet in the evenings, and which neighbours to call on.
Although, after stewing on the last matter for a few minutes, he thought better of venturing too far from the house.
His recent performances had not gone particularly well.
Impersonating Darcy in public had certain pitfalls that he hadn’t fully anticipated.
He might look like Darcy, but his behaviour was never guarded or irritable.
Perhaps he ought to confine his preferences to household matters, and, he thought with wicked delight, scowl more frequently.
***
Wednesday 20 November
Finding it impossible to do otherwise, Darcy set out for the Longbourn grove early that morning.
He had to warn Elizabeth of the danger Wickham presented to her.
This noble endeavour allowed him to disregard the impropriety of meeting an unaccompanied woman, especially one who had thoroughly captured his imagination.
How he would explain a second visit was not quite as easy to justify, especially since the world perceived him as Charles Bingley.
“Good morning, Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth said, peering behind Darcy. “Are you alone again?”
Darcy hesitated. He knew he ought not to have come, but what else could he do? With Wickham on the prowl, he was now at his wits’ end. “I came to see you, Miss Elizabeth.”
She started at this, then glanced over her shoulder at the house.
“It may seem quite unusual, but I must speak with you.” He dared not to confess that he had missed seeing her every day.
“I must admit that I don’t fully understand. You’ve paid most of your attention to my sister,” she said, her brow creased with worry.
Naturally, she would have no reason to believe he wished only for her company. “I hope I may rely on your discretion.”
Her eyes narrowed as though in suspicion. “I’m not in the habit of keeping secrets from Jane, Mr Bingley.”
“That’s the problem. I’m not—” Catching himself about to make a disastrous mistake, he paced and wondered how best to proceed.
“You seem a bit…overwrought, Mr Bingley, or perhaps you are being morose again.”
“I am somewhat agitated, but—”
How easy it would be to tell her that he was really Fitzwilliam Darcy, but convincing her was entirely another matter.
Who would believe such an improbable tale?
Thunder and lightning and transformations – it was too much to ask of her.
Even the most imaginative lady would believe he was inventing a fanciful story to gain her sympathy.
“How suddenly you rode off yesterday,” she said.
He stopped pacing at this comment. When she gazed at him in anticipation, he continued, thankful for her astute observation.
“Yes, that is precisely what I wanted to explain. I have no right to burden you with such a delicate matter, but I should never forgive myself if you came to harm. I must—you must—” He groaned and resumed pacing.
Why is it so difficult to find the right words?
She sat on a fallen tree and turned her gaze to him. “I’m perfectly ready to hear whatever you wish to tell me, Mr Bingley.”
Darcy took a deep breath to settle his nerves. “A young acquaintance of mine, a schoolgirl, was recently persuaded to elope to the border with a fortune hunter.”
Her eyes flew open in alarm.
“Her guardian was able to prevent it, so except for a broken heart, she was uninjured. Since the man has squandered his entire inheritance, he had no other choice but to enlist in the militia.”
She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut.
Although he suspected she had guessed correctly, he refused to leave any doubt. “That man is Mr Wickham.”
When she released a beleaguered sigh, he continued, “Since he paid particular attention to you yesterday, I’m obliged to warn you about him.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr Bingley. Your friend must have been devastated.”
Recalling that terrible ride home from Ramsgate, he nodded. “She learned a difficult lesson about charming young men. I would urge you not to be taken in by him.”
Her troubled brow and trembling lips assured him that he had adequately warned her of the dangers.
“I must not linger, but beg you to be on your guard.”
She rose. “Thank you for confiding in me, Mr Bingley.”
He reached for her hand and bowed over it. “I hope you know that if you are ever in need of assistance, I’m at your service.” He released her, then quickly added, “Darcy and I both.”
Blushing brightly, she thanked him for his kindness and took her leave.
He watched her walk away and wondered if he had said too much.
He had no desire to endanger Georgiana’s reputation, but since Wickham had the effrontery to appear in polite society, Elizabeth must not fall prey to his treacherous charm.
Before she disappeared from sight, she turned to wave farewell. With a heavy heart, he retrieved Shadow and mounted.
As he rode back to Netherfield, he wished he could have divulged everything to her, not just about Wickham, but also about his current dilemma. How wonderful it would be to have an ally through these difficulties. Someone intelligent and compassionate, who might offer sound advice.
But no, he couldn’t burden her with an insurmountable problem. He and Charles must find their own way back to their true selves.
Struck by the irony of his situation, he couldn’t help wondering if he was no better than Wickham.
Just as his former friend had done, Darcy had assumed a false persona to survive in the world.
George had changed from a steward’s son to a university man, then to a man about town, succumbing to every pleasure and vice, and now a militia man on a paltry stipend.
However, Darcy, a gentleman’s son and grandson of an earl, was now masquerading as a tradesman’s son and master of a leased property.
They had both suffered a fall from grace with no discernible solutions.
However, despite Darcy’s present uncertain circumstances, his excellent father had taught him to conduct himself as an honourable gentleman, and he would always follow his sire’s example.
Although Wickham had received the same guidance, he had chosen to follow a dark path and embrace the unseemly side of life.
For all his pretences, he would always be known as the scourge of Derbyshire.
***
Breakfast was much the same as every previous day; Caroline peppered Charles with questions and made frequent references to her dearest friends in town.
Today, however, Charles assumed a disgruntled scowl and begged, with perfect indifference, to be allowed to eat his meal in peace.
He even requested a second cup of coffee.
Afterwards, his family returned to their chambers, and Darcy suggested a walk outdoors. Supposing that he had urgent matters to discuss away from the house, Charles agreed.
“I saw Elizabeth this morning and advised her about Wickham’s attempted elopement,” Darcy said with a grave mien as they approached the brook.
“Rather than mentioning Georgiana’s name, I referred to her as a friend.
I know it was risky, but I couldn’t allow Elizabeth to succumb to Wickham’s charms.”
Although Charles couldn’t like that Darcy had gone off to Longbourn a second time without him, he could raise no reasonable complaint, especially since his friend had warned Caroline and Louisa about the blackguard.
“No, indeed, she must know of the dangers. Do you suppose she will advise her sisters?” he inquired, thinking of sweet Jane.
Darcy nodded. “I certainly hope so. None of the Bennet sisters should give him a moment of their time.”
Charles worried about the long-term effects of their swap. He couldn’t fathom successfully passing himself off as Darcy in town. “We can’t continue this way much longer. December is fast approaching. Your family will expect you home at some point.”
“Yes, I’ve also thought of the holidays, and we must find a solution quickly.”
Charles watched the light shimmer on the water’s surface. “Since we’ve had no success in the past sennight, I am convinced that the rain is essential to the reversal.”
“I agree, but on the off chance that the weather isn’t a factor, we must continue our nightly efforts.”
“But what can we do that we haven’t already tried? We’ve taken up boxing, for God’s sake.”
Darcy laughed. “It’s not so different from what happened that night, just with more finesse,” he said, clapping Charles on the back. “Henry can be quite exhausting. Have we pushed you to your limit?”
Charles wasn’t ready to admit defeat. “No, not yet, at any rate. Perhaps he has another harebrained idea we can try.”
As they walked back to the house, his thoughts returned to Jane. Although he was hesitant to be seen in public, this in no way hindered his desire to see his angel. “We might, perhaps, call on Longbourn tomorrow,” he said. Then added, “If you have no objections, of course.”
Darcy regarded him with a puzzled expression. “Why should I object? You are master of the house and must do as you choose.”
Charles could think of several examples to the contrary. “Well, yes, but not always and not lately.”
Darcy slowed his pace. “You know, Charles, I am perfectly aware that before the switch, Caroline had been in the habit of applying to me for decisions that should have fallen to you. I admit now that I should have deferred to you in those instances, but now that she applies to you, you must follow your own preference.”
“I’ve finally come to the same conclusion and plan to take advantage of it,” Charles said with a laugh. “I must admit that I took no offence to her habit until she turned all her attention to me. You’re our guest, after all, and she’s desperate to impress you.”
“Yes, well, she has no notion of it, but she has failed miserably.”
When they later applied to Henry for his opinion on new solutions, he had no shortage of ideas.
“We can drink a toast to the gods, recite incantations, and howl at the moon.”
“I’m certain one of those methods will succeed,” Darcy said without much conviction.
Henry shrugged at this comment. “It’s worth a try. Who knows? The solution just might be something we haven’t tried yet.”
Charles refused to be discouraged. They had to pursue every possibility, no matter how outlandish. If howling at the moon would reverse the spell, he would do so with gusto.