Page 9 of Brighton Rescue (Pride and Prejudice Variation #23)
The July sun was already bright in the morning sky, but the breeze off the ocean was delightfully cool.
Elizabeth Bennet, dressed in a green walking dress with brown jean half boots on her feet, stared out over the endless waves with a mixture of awe and delight.
She had read about the ocean, of course, and even seen paintings of the great expanse of water which stretched to the farthest reaches of the earth, but the smell of the salty air, the cries of the wheeling sea birds, the sound of the waves rippling onto the shore, and the sight of the water, sometimes blue, sometimes green, sometimes dark, filled her with an exultant joy.
She looked up at Fitzwilliam Darcy and found herself blushing; the man was not staring at the ocean but at her face, when she knew the ocean ought to be far more interesting.
“It is magnificent, is it not?” she asked rather breathlessly, and felt her blush deepen as he smiled down at her.
“It is magnificent, Miss Bennet,” he agreed, forcing himself to turn his gaze on the horizon.
It was not an easy task; Eliza ... Miss Bennet was so lovely, so vibrant, with a few curls escaping her bonnet in the summer breeze, with the light of wonder in her fine eyes.
“I have been to the sea many times before, but it never grows old.”
Elizabeth gestured toward the beach. “I am puzzled by the beach, sir. I thought that most beaches are covered with sand, not rocks.”
Darcy held out his arm and she took it, and they began walking again parallel to the ocean’s edge.
Darcy, who relished the feeling of his beloved’s hand on his arm, struggled to speak calmly.
“You are entirely correct. I have been to Cornwall and Dorset, and the beaches are a vast expanse of sand; here in Brighton, for reasons that I do not understand, we have only pebbles.”
“Do listen!” Elizabeth said abruptly, lifting up a finger, and they both lapsed into silence as a large wave broke far up on the beach, only to retreat in a froth of white water. The small rocks shifted and danced in response, making a sound like a hundred castanets.
Elizabeth laughed aloud and Darcy found himself chuckling with her, pleased at her open delight.
“It as if they are talking,” the lady said, stepping forward again, “though I know that is excessively fanciful. Really, for all that this situation with Lydia is a great worry, I must rejoice that I have seen the ocean at last. It is utterly marvelous.”
/
“Darcy is in love with Miss Bennet, is he not?” Gabriel Hartford asked his mother. The twosome were walking arm in arm some thirty yards behind Darcy and his companion, far enough away that they would not be overheard, but close enough to provide the appropriate degree of oversight.
Lady Amelia tightened her grip on her son’s only arm and sighed softly. “Is it so obvious, my dear?”
Gabriel glanced down in some bemusement. “You sound as if it is a bad thing! Miss Bennet seems a thoroughly charming and eligible young lady!”
“Oh she is, she is! It is merely that ... well, the lady has thus far not been inclined to accept Darcy’s suit. It seems a great pity; I believe they are well matched, but of course it must be her decision.”
“Are you quite serious, Mother? Darcy is well connected and exceedingly wealthy, and Miss Bennet, as appealing as she is, is but a poor country gentleman’s daughter. I find it hard to believe that she would even consider refusing him if he offered for her!”
Lady Amelia trod forward silently for another minute and then, certain that they would not be overheard, said quietly, “You must not share this, my son, but she already refused him once. Yes, she is a remarkable young lady, determined to marry a man she can love and respect instead of focusing entirely on wealth and status. I admire her greatly. I confess that while my primary concern is to save her youngest sister from her own idiocy, I hope this time in Brighton will enable Darcy to woo and win Miss Bennet. But come, enough about our guests. How are you doing, my dear?”
“I am well enough, Mother. Beehaven, while a small estate, suits me very well.”
“Beehaven! Such a peculiar name, Gabriel!”
“It is entirely appropriate, Mama,” Hartford argued, “and far more memorable and apt than its previous name.”
“Gray Cliffs was rather odd given that there are no cliffs, gray or not,” Lady Amelia admitted. “But setting aside the estate, how are you doing? Now I promise I will not mention it again for at least a week, but please tell me – does your arm still pain you?”
The former colonel swallowed a sigh. He knew his mother meant well, but he disliked speaking of the loss of his arm.
He was no longer a whole man and while he was thankful he had survived his injury, the reality of his condition rankled.
Nonetheless, he knew the situation could be far worse than it was.
Most men with such severe injuries to a limb died of infection, and those who survived were often not entirely right in the head afterwards.
His mind, while it battled nightmares at times, had recovered and even thrived in the last years.
“I am well enough, Mama,” he said. “I am rarely in pain, and I know some men who have lost an arm feel a strange agony as if the limb is still there. I beg you not to worry about me.”
“I insist on the right to worry about you if I please, my son,” Lady Amelia insisted with an attempt at lightness.
“Do not misunderstand me; I thank the Lord every day that you survived your wound, and I am grateful that you have carved out a good life at Beehaven. But I do worry that you are lonely on that estate all by yourself.”
“I am not alone. I have the servants, and while it may not be a common viewpoint, I consider many of them to be genuine friends. My valet, formerly my batman, saved my life, as you know, by carrying me away from the field of battle after my injury.”
“And I will always be in his debt,” his mother returned immediately, tears springing to her eyes. “But what of a wife, my dear? Do you not wish to marry, to have children?”
Gabriel Hartford clenched his teeth and took a few steps farther down the beach, his eyes fixed forward at Darcy and Elizabeth, who were now some forty yards away. “What woman would wish for a husband like me, Mama? I am a cripple. ”
“You are not a cripple. The Prince Regent is a cripple, or at least he is much of the time with his gout and his corpulence. You are a kind, intelligent man with good looks who happens to be missing an arm. Many a woman would be honored and delighted to marry you.”
“I would suggest, Mother, that a woman who wished to marry me would do so because of my wealth and connections, not for my person, and I cannot bear that. If I ever do marry, I wish my wife to love me, not pity me, and how would I know? Very few women in our circle of life marry for love and respect, and fewer still would care to marry a man no longer whole.”
Lady Amelia said softly, “Such women exist, my dear; after all Miss Bennet refused to marry Darcy, in spite of every financial incentive to do so.”
Her son chuckled and mused, “Perhaps I ought to try to woo Miss Bennet?”
“Oh, Gabriel...”
“I am joking, of course. But come, I believe Miss Bennet has other sisters besides Miss Lydia? She is a sprightly thing, but far too young.”
“She is also a fool, Gabriel. Please do not marry such a one as Miss Lydia.”
“I can safely promise you that I will not.”
/
“My dear Lydia, you are utterly radiant tonight,” George Wickham declared, dramatically bowing over the hand of Lydia Bennet.
The girl was always handsome, but she was particularly effervescent tonight in a new, pale yellow gown and her hair, piled high on her head, gleamed in the myriad candles of the assembly room of the Castile Inn.
“Thank you,” Lydia returned saucily, though she kept her voice low. “I declare there is nothing more attractive than an officer in a red coat, and you are the most handsome of them all, my dearest Wickham.”
“Thank you! Since you consider me the most handsome, I hope that means that you have set aside the first dance for me tonight?”
“Indeed I have, and I hope that you are appropriately grateful. Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke of attending the assembly tonight and I would quite enjoy dancing my first set with the son of an earl, but naturally I would not dream of dancing with anyone but my dear Wickham.”
George Wickham had been feeling quite pleased with life, but this casual remark caused him to feel as of a particularly large bucket of ice had suddenly been poured down the back of his uniform.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam?” he asked in astonished dismay.
“Yes! He is the son of the Earl of Matlock, you know, and that tiresome Mr. Darcy’s cousin.
But he is not at all like Mr. Darcy, I assure you!
In fact, he told me that Mr. Darcy was quite at fault to give you the three thousand pounds for the living.
I mean, that sounds like a great deal of money, but naturally it will not do for a man like you, who was raised to be a gentleman! ”
Wickham, nearly numb with bewilderment and worry, was relieved when the music started up.
He held out his arm to Lydia, and the twosome made their way onto the dance floor.
He was an accomplished dancer and mechanically performed the steps with elegance and grace while thinking furiously.
Colonel Fitzwilliam loathed him to the depths of his very being, and if it had been he who had come to Ramsgate and discovered Miss Darcy on the verge of eloping with her father’s godson, Wickham had no doubt that the colonel would have beaten him within an inch of his life.
It was a small silver lining, really, that Darcy was too much a gentleman to come to fisticuffs with his childhood playmate.
“Mr. Wickham, whatever is the matter?” Lydia demanded, breaking into his thoughts. “You have not said a word in more than ten minutes! ”
“My apologies,” he responded, pulling himself out of his reverie as the twosome twirled gracefully around one another. “I am merely astonished at the news that Colonel Fitzwilliam is in Brighton. Where did you meet him?”
“Oh, he is staying with Lady Amelia Hartford, and I met him at our dinner party yesterday,” the girl explained cheerfully.
“Mr. Darcy is there as well, and Lizzy of course, and my aunt and uncle Gardiner. I thought the party was going to be a great bore, but it was actually enjoyable. Colonel Fitzwilliam is quite the gentleman, you know, and he has such interesting stories about his service on the Continent. Did you know he was actually in Madrid last autumn? I would not care to travel to foreign lands myself, but the colonel’s descriptions of the great buildings and foreign people were most interesting! ”
Wickham forced himself to smile mechanically at Lydia’s words and said, in a tone which was sharper than usual, “I daresay it is difficult for a man like myself to compete against a world traveler like the colonel.”
“Oh!” Lydia said in surprised indignation.
“Of course there is no one who has my heart like you, dear Wickham! I find Colonel Fitzwilliam interesting, that is all! It would hardly be courteous to refuse to speak and dance with him. Indeed, I thought you would be pleased; I suppose he is not very rich, but he is the son of an earl and might be able to help us after we marry! ”
“Of course I do not mind,” Wickham answered, forcing himself to speak gently, “though I doubt he will be able to help us, my dear. For that matter, I am not certain you should count on seeing him again. I find it unlikely that someone as starched up as Colonel Fitzwilliam would attend this assembly; indeed, it is unlikely you will cross paths again.”
“I am afraid you are wrong, my dearest love!” Lydia responded with a coy smile. “He is right over there, in the corner near the refreshments, do you not see? He said he would come and no doubt is counting the minutes before he can dance with me!”
Wickham stumbled slightly, missing a step in the dance, and craned his head frantically. Lydia was quite right; Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of the Regulars was standing next to a wall near the refreshments’ table, and his dark stare was grimly focused on Wickham himself.
George Wickham, godson of George Darcy, reprobate, scoundrel, and seducer, swallowed hard and said to Lydia, “My darling, you are quite correct that he is here! I am grateful, for I am not able to stay long tonight to dance, as I have some work that must be done in an hour. I am thankful that Colonel Fitzwilliam is here along with Captain Denny and several other of your favorites; you will not have to sit out, I am certain, since you are the most beautiful lady in the room! ”
Lydia, who had started to pout at the beginning of his statement, was smiling brightly by the end.
“I will miss you, but yes, I will not be bored, I assure you. Are you not looking forward to when we marry? Then we will never be parted! But please tell me, when can I see you again? With Lizzy and my aunt and uncle in town, it is more difficult for me to get away.”
“I intend to be at Donaldson’s library tomorrow at eleven in the morning, my dear. Might you be able to meet me there?”
“I would not miss it for the world,” Lydia said merrily as the music ended. Wickham led her off the dance floor, only to freeze in dismay when Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped in his path.
His breath hitched briefly but he managed to bow with mechanical civility and say, “Colonel Fitzwilliam, how pleasant to see you.”
“It is very pleasant to see you too,” the colonel replied. Wickham eyed him uneasily. The tone was pleasant enough, but there was a wolfish expression in those dark brown eyes.
“Miss Lydia,” Fitzwilliam said, turning to bow more deeply to the girl, “as you see, I have come to request my dance. I hope you are available? If not, I will stand in the corner and wait forlornly until you can bless me with the joy of your company. ”
Lydia laughed saucily at this and curtsied. “I do have this dance free, Colonel Fitzwilliam, thank you! Mr. Wickham, until later.”
“Good evening, Miss Lydia,” Wickham responded, bowing again, and watched as Darcy’s cousin wafted the girl away.
He cast a nervous glance around him, fearful that Darcy might leap out of the woodwork and accost him, and hastened to the main door and out into the cooler night air. He needed to do some hard thinking.