Page 22 of Brighton Rescue (Pride and Prejudice Variation #23)
The sun shone in the deep blue sky, and puffy clouds sailed serenely overhead, regally distant from the surreal terror of George Wickham.
The disgraced lieutenant, dressed in the white garments of a condemned man, his hands bound behind him, was marched out of the prison barracks and into a courtyard, flanked by a pair of red coated privates.
Wickham gazed around him with a mixture of incredulity and panic.
It could not be, surely, that this was happening?
It must be some kind of cruel joke, or a dreadful nightmare?
He, George Wickham, godson of George Darcy of Pemberley, could not possibly be condemned to die.
It was horribly, hideously, unimaginable.
Numbly, he marched through the courtyard and out to a grassy promenade, beyond which stretched the endless sea. One of his escorts turned him around to face the barracks as a squad of soldiers filed into position, cutting him off from the relative safety of the prison barracks.
Wickham gazed around desperately, hoping to see Darcy standing nearby. Surely Darcy would not permit this to happen, would not allow his father’s favorite to die so ignominiously.
There was no sign of Darcy, but Wickham, swallowing convulsively, recognized the faces of some of the fellow officers in the regiment: Pratt and Denny, Hamilton and Huntington.
Pratt looked grim, Denny distressed, Hamilton angry.
Well, it was Hamilton’s fault, was it not, that the man made no attempt to secure his money in a safe place?
Wickham had been desperate for funds when he had stolen from his fellow officers; it was hardly his fault that he found himself so very short of cash at a critical juncture.
The militia chaplain appeared at his side and Wickham heard dimly, through the rising terror, through the galloping of his heart, the Prayer for the Condemned Malefactor:
“Justly by man condemned to die, Jesus the desperate sinner’s friend, Out of the deep regard our cry, And O! Let hope be in our end...”
He swallowed convulsively and swayed in place. No, no, it could not be! Surely it could not be that it had come to this, to a grassy knoll by the sea, to disgrace and death...
The blindfold was placed around his eyes, blocking the sight of those who would kill him in cold blood. There was rustling, and soft murmuring, the sounds of muskets being loaded, the voice of Colonel Forster, slightly slurred.
“Ready, aim, fire !”
/
“What think you of the wilderness, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, looking down upon his beloved. The couple was standing a short distance behind Mr. Hartford’s estate house, with Mr. Hartford and Miss Bennet seated on a bench some fifty feet away to provide appropriate oversight.
Elizabeth looked around with interest and said, “It is a very wild wilderness, is it not? Save for the paths cut through the foliage, it looks almost entirely neglected.”
“Do you disapprove?”
Elizabeth knit her brows at this and began wandering farther away from the house with Darcy, of course, at her side.
“I do not disapprove, precisely,” the lady finally said.
“My natural inclination is to dislike it because it is so unkempt, and the flowers and plants are dull compared to, for example, the Promenade Grove in Brighton. However, Mr. Hartford explained the matter very clearly on the carriage ride here; the bees prefer certain flowers, and Mr. Hartford has deliberately chosen to encourage the growth of what we would call weeds, because such plants enable the bees to thrive. ”
Darcy placed his right hand on his love’s small hand, which was tucked in his left arm and said, “I quite agree that the demesne looks untidy and I fear that Lady Catherine would disapprove mightily, but as you said, these humble flowers have a very definite purpose.”
“For that matter, wheat and oats and corn look rather uninspiring from an aesthetic standpoint,” Elizabeth mused.
“This uncultivated field is necessary for the harvest of honey. You are quite right about your aunt, however; Lady Catherine would be horrified at the very sight of so much poorly behaved vegetation. The gardens of Rosings Park were always meekly obedient to the commands of their mistress.”
Darcy laughed at this and she looked up at him, her lips curved upward in delight.
When she had first met Mr. Darcy, she had never imagined that he could look so carefree, so relaxed, so happy.
She knew him to be a sensible, brave, intelligent, noble, kind man, but he could also laugh, and she dearly loved to laugh.
/
“What do you think of our wilderness, Miss Bennet?” Gabriel asked, rather nervously .
Jane looked up at Gabriel, who was seated by her on a bench under a spreading oak tree, and said, “It is very interesting, sir. It is not a conventional demesne, certainly, but I find great appeal in the thought of God’s natural creation being the perfect food for bees. Where do your bees live?”
Gabriel gestured with his lone arm toward the east and explained, “The hives are some half a mile distant from the house; in general, the bees are not particularly prone to stinging, but we would not care to have the henhouse and barn and stable within very close proximity to the hives. The bees will fly several miles in search of food if they need it.”
“That is sensible. I can imagine that the servants would be uneasy if collecting eggs within a short distance from swarms of bees.”
“Precisely.”
Silence fell for a full, comfortable minute.
Jane gazed affectionately at Elizabeth and Darcy, who were staying within eyeshot, though not earshot.
She did hope that Lizzy and the master of Pemberley would make a match of it.
They were truly compatible, and Jane was quite certain that Elizabeth’s feelings had changed over these last months from contempt and dislike to reluctant respect to appreciation and now to affection and love.
Of course, Mr. Darcy might well not offer again; it was a rare gentleman who would ask a lady to marry him a second time.
“Miss Bennet?”
Jane looked up at her companion, who was staring at her. “Yes?”
“Miss Bennet, I have a question to ask you, but I would beg that you be honest. Please, do not prevaricate for fear of distressing me. I would far prefer truth to kindly lies.”
The eldest daughter of Longbourn sat up a little straighter and said, “I assure you, sir, that I am not in the habit of lying to my acquaintances.”
He nodded and continued, “My question is this. Would you ever consider marrying a man like me, who is not whole, who is permanently disabled?”
Jane’s mouth dropped open in astonishment and she regarded her companion with incredulity. “Are you…are you making me an offer, Mr. Hartford?”
Gabriel flushed and shook his head. “No, please forgive me for being confusing. No, we only met yesterday, and certainly do not know one another well yet. But I find myself greatly drawn to you, Miss Bennet. It is not just your beauty, which is considerable, but your kindness, your serenity, your gentle nature, all of which I find most attractive. However, I am well aware of what I am; a man without an arm, with a peculiar fascination with bees. I do not, in any way, wish to pressure you. I merely wondered whether you would ever consider a union with a man in my position.”
Jane stared into the man’s brown eyes, noting the flecks of gold in them, and then her gaze shifted to Gabriel’s forehead and cheeks, both of which were creased from years of squinting in the harsh sun of Portugal.
He was a good man, she knew, a hardworking man, a kind man, and a courageous man to forge onward in life after such a great injury.
For a brief moment, she contemplated her first love, Charles Bingley, who had been more handsome and whole; there was a small corner of her heart which was still fond of Bingley, but she had learned pragmatism in the last days.
Mr. Bingley had willingly walked out of her life, and here was a good man asking her a pertinent question.
“Yes,” she said abruptly. “Yes, I would marry a man like you, if we found we loved one another.”
“You are quite certain that you are not merely humoring me? I realize that you, with all your beauty, could well expect to marry a man who…”
“Your missing arm does not matter to me,” Jane interrupted fiercely.
“You lost it in war, sir, a war which is being fought to protect women like me from the Corsican Tyrant. I grieve over the pain you must have experienced, and am thankful you survived and are thriving as a master of an estate with, yes, an interesting fascination with bees. But perhaps given your own mother’s fondness for butterflies, your passion is no great surprise. ”
Gabriel grinned at this and said, “My father, who was a rather traditional gentleman, could never quite understand my mother’s excitement for her winged darlings, as she called them.
Nevertheless, he loved her enough to build the conservatory at Hartford House for her use.
My elder brother is likewise bemused by my bees, but he is kind enough not to tease me about them. ”
“My dear Elizabeth loves to roam and ramble through the countryside, and neither I nor my sisters have her stamina or enthusiasm for long walks. I believe siblings commonly have different interests; the key is for everyone to accept the interests of their loved ones, so long as they are not dangerous interests, at any rate.”
“I agree,” Gabriel said, and gathering his courage, continued, “Miss Bennet, would you be willing to enter a courtship with me? I assure you that there would be no commitment on either side; this is merely a desire to come to know one another better. Or if that is presuming too much, I would be happy…”
Again, she interrupted him. “Yes, I would be delighted with a courtship, Mr. Hartford. I admire and like you, and here in Sussex, we are free from the frantic flutterings of my mother. But I feel I really must warn you about my mother, sir. My sister Lydia’s foolishness is largely due to my father’s former indolence and my mother’s indelicate ways.
She is the daughter of a solicitor, you see. If that puts you off, I entirely…”
This time, he interrupted her. “I have no quarrel with the daughter of a solicitor, Miss Bennet, especially a woman who bore as lovely a lady as yourself.”
They fell into silence now, gazing at one another, and Jane, while she was embarrassed, felt a surge of hope and excitement in her heart.
/
“Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy said huskily.
They had wandered almost, but not quite, out of sight of the house and Gabriel and Jane and he suddenly felt that this was the moment for which he had been waiting.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked. The look on her escort’s countenance was solemn, and his eyes gazed on her with adoration, and her heart pounded rapidly within her chest.
“I know that back at Hunsford, I proposed marriage in the most revolting of ways… ”
“Pray do not remember that time,” Elizabeth interposed. “We neither of us behaved well, and we both have learned much from our early interactions.”
He nodded, blew out a breath, and spoke carefully, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I have loved you for many months for your kindness, your wit, your beauty, your intelligence, your diligence, and your courage. I long to make you my wife. Miss Elizabeth, will you accept my hand in marriage?”
“Yes,” she responded quickly, tears filling and then spilling out of her eyes. “Yes, Mr. Darcy. I love you and very much wish to be your wife.”
He reached out his hands to clasp her own, and lifted them fervently to his mouth to press his lips on her precious fingers. He was shaking with joy and incredulous delight. She would be his! He would be hers! Praise the Lord on High!
/
Lady Amelia Hartford, who had been wandering the paths of the wilderness in search of rare butterflies, stumbled onto Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy standing very closely together and cleared her throat, causing the couple to draw apart rapidly.
She lifted an inquiring eyebrow and was amused to see that the young couple looked both joyful and embarrassed.
“Is there something I should know?” she inquired archly.
“Lady Amelia,” Darcy said, his voice trembling with emotion, “I am overjoyed to report that Miss Elizabeth has agreed to become my wife.”