Page 8 of Brighton Rescue (Pride and Prejudice Variation #23)
“Darcy?” Richard inquired, leaning up against the wall of his cousin’s bedroom. Thanks to the exigencies of a military uniform and a talented valet, he had managed to get dressed in time to consult with Darcy before Lady Amelia’s guests were due to arrive.
Darcy, who was staring into a mirror carefully tying his cravat, met his cousin’s gaze in the reflection. “Yes, Richard?”
“Did you ever tell Bingley that the eldest Miss Bennet was genuinely attached to him?”
Darcy winced and turned his attention back to the cloth around his neck, which was behaving in a most recalcitrant fashion.
When he had wrestled it into its proper shape and form, he turned to face the colonel and confessed, “I did not. I have not seen Bingley since I learned of my mistaken understanding of Miss Bennet’s feelings toward him, and it is hardly a topic I can openly discuss in a letter.
He is visiting friends in the north, though he should return to London shortly. ”
The colonel nodded, frowning, and said, “In truth, if he was truly attached to Miss Bennet, he ought not to have been swayed so easily by your words. ”
Darcy shook his head dismally. “It is not as simple as that, Richard. Bingley is younger than I am and has long been in the habit of trusting me to guide him appropriately. In the past, I believe I have successfully steered him well, but in the matter of the eldest Miss Bennet … well, I confess that now, looking back to last autumn, I realize I encouraged Bingley to leave partially because of my growing attraction for Miss Elizabeth. I was afraid of giving in to my feelings towards her and sought to distance myself physically. And indeed, those few months before we met again in Kent, I only thought of her once or twice a day...”
The colonel eyed his cousin with astonished sympathy. “You thought of Miss Bennet daily? My dear Darcy, you were indeed badly hit by Cupid’s arrow.”
“I still am,” Darcy said, turning back toward the mirror to smooth down his jacket, more out of a need to do something with his restless hands than anything else. “I still love Eliza ... Miss Bennet very much. Perhaps I ought to write Bingley, though; I will consider it.”
/
Mrs. Harriet Forster shifted closer to her husband as the carriage rolled smoothly along Marine Parade toward the home of Lady Amelia Hartford. She smiled up at him gratefully when he patted her arm reassuringly and said, “I am certain you will have a pleasant time, my dear.”
“I hope so,” his lady said with a slight quaver in her voice. “I am nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?” Lydia Bennet asked, turning away from the window which faced toward the endless expanse of azure waves rolling in from the horizon. “It will surely be a dinner party like other parties? It may be dull, but there is nothing to be frightened of, surely!”
Harriet nodded weakly and shifted even closer to her husband.
As the only child and heiress of a naval captain, she was at ease with military men; however, her father, the son of a wealthy merchant, rarely rubbed elbows with the gentry and never with the nobility.
Mrs. Harriet Forster, while well taught at a select seminary, was still not entirely sure of herself in exalted company and there had been an air of command in the demeanor of Lady Amelia Hartford.
The carriage turned into a drive, and Harriet gazed upon the mansion with wide eyes.
It was large and well maintained, and its location on Marine Parade made it a most desirable residence.
She took a deep breath and plastered on a smile as her husband handed her, and then Lydia, out onto the paved stone carriage way, whereupon they mounted the steps to the front door, which was opened promptly by a footman dressed in livery.
“Mrs. Forster, Miss Lydia, welcome!” Lady Amelia exclaimed, stepping forward to greet her guests. “Thank you all for coming.”
The threesome stepped into the antechamber beyond the door, and Harriet cast an impressed look around her. The walls were painted a delicate blue which matched the mosaic floor, itself patterned with blue and green and purple.
“Mrs. Forster, will you not introduce me to your husband?” her hostess requested.
“Of course,” Harriet Forster fluttered nervously. “Lady Amelia, my husband, Colonel Forster. Husband, Lady Amelia Hartford.”
Colonel Forster bowed courteously and said, “Lady Amelia, we are honored to be invited here tonight.”
“Nonsense, Colonel, it is we who are most grateful for your company this pleasant evening! Now come, I believe you know Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but you must meet Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, her uncle and aunt from London. Over here – do come over here, Darcy and Fitzwilliam – Colonel Forster, Mrs. Forster, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire...”
“The colonel and I are known to one another,” Darcy explained. “We met when the militia regiment was in Meryton and I was visiting a friend at nearby Netherfield Hall. ”
“Oh, how delightful that you are already acquainted!” their hostess exclaimed. “But I do not believe you know Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of the Regulars, and you certainly have not met my son, Mr. Gabriel Hartford.”
The gentlemen exchanged appropriate bows and the ladies curtsied, though Lydia’s indignant gaze was focused on Darcy.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, noting her hostile expression, immediately stepped forward and said, “Miss Lydia, it is an honor to meet you at last. Your sister Elizabeth spoke much of your family when she was visiting at Kent this spring.”
Lydia shook herself a little and turned away from Darcy to peer at Elizabeth, who had deliberately moved away and was now in conversation with Gabriel Hartford.
“Did she indeed? I do not remember Elizabeth telling me that she met a military man while she was visiting Charlotte Collins! She spoke much of trees and flowers and hills and the like, and some of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, but I do not remember her speaking of you! Do you have an estate in Kent, Colonel?”
“No, I am the second son of the Earl of Matlock, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings is my aunt. I visited my aunt in Darcy’s company back at Easter, and I enjoyed the company of your sister during many a dinner at Rosings.
Based on her words, you share her liveliness and based on the evidence of my own eyes, her loveliness as well. ”
Lydia smiled in delight at this open flattery and tilted her head beguilingly, “Do you really think so, Colonel? Most in Meryton consider Elizabeth to be the second most beautiful Bennet daughter, after my eldest sister Jane, of course.”
“I have not had the honor of meeting Miss Bennet,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said gravely, “but while Miss Elizabeth is a lovely young lady, I find your countenance and demeanor more to my liking; I beg you, however, not to say such a thing to Miss Elizabeth.”
“I promise you I will not!” Lydia exclaimed in delight, her lashes lowered in false modesty. “Oh, I am glad that we came tonight, Colonel! I was afraid it would be quite dull, and I confess I was doubtful when I heard you are Mr. Darcy’s cousin. I dislike him quite tremendously!”
The colonel raised his brow at this defiant statement and glanced at his tall cousin, who had drawn the Forsters apart and was nobly making conversation with them.
“Poor Darcy, to incur your displeasure! He is master of a great estate, you know, and inclined to take himself very seriously. His demeanor, too, is rather stiff, but once you get to know him, he is a pleasant enough fellow, I assure you. ”
“Perhaps he is pleasant to you, Colonel,” the girl said angrily, “but he treated a dear friend of mine quite brutally!”
Fitzwilliam leaned a little closer to the girl and pasted a sympathetic look on his face. “I am very sorry to hear that, Miss Lydia. Of whom do you speak?”
“Lieutenant George Wickham,” she flashed back. “Perhaps you do not know of this, but Mr. Darcy denied him a valuable living in Derbyshire. Poor Mr. Wickham was forced to enter the militia instead of enjoying a comfortable life as a clergyman. He is quite poor, and that is Mr. Darcy’s fault.”
The colonel sighed deeply and nodded. “Yes, that entire affair was a great pity, Miss Lydia. Nonetheless, I do not think you can entirely blame my cousin for Mr. Wickham’s current financial woes; he was certainly pleased enough to accept the three thousand pounds in lieu of the living, though perhaps Darcy was wrong to give him the money.
Wickham has always been prone to spending money too freely. ”
Lydia’s eyes widened and her face froze into a ludicrous expression of bewilderment. “Three thousand pounds? Of what are you speaking?”
“Oh, did Mr. Wickham not tell you?” Fitzwilliam inquired mendaciously.
“He decided against taking Holy Orders and spoke of studying law instead. Darcy gave him three thousand pounds for that purpose, in exchange for giving up all rights to the living, but unfortunately it seems that Wickham did not enjoy learning law either. Ah well, I trust that he is relishing his time in the militia; he certainly is blessed with charming society, after all!”
There was a cleft between the girl’s eyes but Lydia managed to produce a coy smile for his benefit.
Richard Fitzwilliam, regarding her cynically, decided that Miss Bennet and Darcy were quite right to worry about the girl.
Miss Lydia was very handsome indeed, and her sprightly, provocative behavior would attract Wickham like a bee to wildflowers.
Moreover, if the reprobate succeeded in seducing Miss Lydia, he would take her, and use her, and enjoy her, and then abandon her without compunction.
He hoped that his gentle words in the girl’s ear regarding Wickham would produce a modicum of concern and restraint, but he would not count on it.
/
“It appears that your sister is quite taken with Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Mr. Hartford mused in a soft tone.
Elizabeth, who had been peeking surreptitiously at the colonel and Lydia, nodded and said quietly, “It was nearly inevitable. The colonel is blessed with happy, cheerful manners, and Lydia has a great love for a man in a red coat. I do hope that Lady Amelia’s more subtle approach will work; I fear that we will wake up one morning and find Lydia gone. ”
“I beg you not to concern yourself,” Darcy said quietly, causing Elizabeth to start slightly.
She had not noticed that her aunt and uncle were now engaging the Forsters and that Pemberley’s master had come up behind her and Gabriel Hartford.
“Wickham is being watched at all times, and he would not be able to run off with anyone without arranging for the hire of a carriage and horses, after all.”
Elizabeth relaxed a little. “That is true enough, Mr. Darcy. I cannot thank you enough for all you are doing.”
“It is my honor to assist in this manner,” the gentleman responded formally, but his gaze on the woman was so intent, so passionate, that Hartford found himself taking in a sudden breath of understanding. So that was the way the wind blew!
The door to the drawing room opened and the butler entered to announce dinner.
“Shall we enter, Miss Lydia?” the Colonel asked, holding out his arm. “I believe we are seated together at dinner, and I look forward to furthering our acquaintance.”
/
“Well, Mrs. Forster, I hope you enjoyed dinner tonight?” her husband asked, patting his wife’s arm and smiling down at her.
“I did,” Harriet responded with relief. “Everyone was most friendly and obliging, and your sister is charming, Lydia. I feel foolish for worrying so much! I trust you enjoyed yourself as well?”
Lydia, who was looking out the window with an oddly blank expression on her face, did not answer immediately, prompting her hostess to call her name two more times before the youngest Bennet looked up in surprise.
“I apologize, Harriet, I was thinking.”
“About Colonel Fitzwilliam, perhaps?” her friend asked with a roguish twinkle in her eye. “He could hardly take his eyes off you tonight.”
Lydia’s forehead had been wrinkled in thought but she grinned openly at this. “Indeed he could not,” she declared with satisfaction. “I do hope I will get to see the colonel again. Perhaps Lady Amelia will invite us to dinner again!”
“I believe you will see him before then,” Harriet said with a sly smile. “He asked me if we were to attend the assembly at the Inn tomorrow night, and I told him yes, whereupon he assured me that he would also be present!”
Lydia giggled with satisfaction. “Oh, how amazed Mr. Wickham and Captain Denny will be to see that a colonel of the Regulars admires me!”
Harriet shot an anxious look at her husband, but he only patted her arm lovingly again.
He knew that many a young thing preferred a man who served in the Regulars, but his little wife had assured him that she far preferred a militia commander who would not be shipped off to the Continent on a moment’s notice.
“I am certain you will have an especially pleasant time at the assembly, Miss Lydia,” he said.