Page 25 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Darcy’s Bedchamber
Netherfield
Midnight
The sheets rustled as Darcy turned over to stare pensively into the heart of the leaping flames in the fireplace. His body was exhausted, for it had been a long and busy day, but his mind, not yet ready to settle, hummed with activity. His first order of business after arriving in Meryton had been to turn Wickham over to Colonel Forster's competent oversight. Then, he made the short one mile ride out to Longbourn to speak with Bingley and the Bennets, before he finally headed for Netherfield to change out of his dirty attire. After a welcome bath and his own skilled valet's services in dressing him, Darcy had read his accrued correspondence before writing a vitally important letter. He needed the assistance of his cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, currently a Colonel in the Regulars, to dispose of Wickham satisfactorily. After laying out the situation in neat writing, he had sealed the letter and arranged to have it sent by express to his cousin’s barracks before making his way back out to return to Longbourn for dinner.
The meal had been pleasant enough, but Darcy was relieved to be once more at Netherfield, to be undressed by his competent valet, and finally to retire. The warming pans made his sheets delightfully warm, and as he relaxed into the mattress, he was grateful for his return to normal life.
It felt almost surreal. Not the routine itself, per se, but that he had ever left it. Darcy was not known to his friends and acquaintances as an impetuous man, liable to fling himself without thought into a course of action. On the contrary, his every decision was reached after careful deliberation. Why, then, had he reacted to the news of foolish Miss Lydia's elopement, not with indifference, as befitted a man in his position, but with alacrity and alarm and considerable personal expense?
He had put himself to a great deal of trouble, though not as much trouble as Alexander Wickham, certainly, but then Alexander was acting due to his blood ties with George Wickham, whereas Darcy felt no such familial obligation.
Why had he gone rushing to Miss Lydia's aid? He had ignored George Wickham's perfidious behavior for many years, aside from supporting two former Pemberley maids and their respective son and daughter. Even after Wickham's attempt to run off with Georgiana, Darcy had not bestirred himself to deal decisively with the miscreant. He had his sweet little sister's reputation to protect, of course, but on some level, perhaps he had not wished to expend the distasteful effort and monetary expense it would take to summarily dispose of the villain. So why now?
Possibly the most logical reason was that of affection for Bingley. After all, his friend was soon to marry Miss Bennet, and it would be a shame for the wedding to occur beneath a cloud of scandal. But if Darcy were honest with himself, that was not the only – or even the preeminent – reason.
Elizabeth Bennet's piquant face swam up before his mind's eye. Gone had been the usual laughing sparkle from those lovely brown eyes the last time he had seen her, replaced instead with a troubled furrow between the fine arched brows. It ... bothered him. He far preferred seeing her happy, not sad and frightened.
He wanted to protect her. Absurd, of course. Enchanting as she was, she was in no way worthy to be Mrs. Darcy. Her deplorable connections and lack of status made her ineligible to be his bride. In her own person, she was uniquely suitable. Vibrantly joyous in life, clever and intelligent, endlessly kind, loyal and brave and decisive … she had thought nothing of sacrificing her own creature comforts to pursue her younger sister and George Wickham. She would, one day, make some well-blessed man a magnificent wife.
Darcy wished, as sleep closed like water over his mind, that he could find a woman equaling her with vouchers to Almack's.
***
Church
Kympton
Three Mornings Later
“Dearly beloved,” the young curate said. “We have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony.”
Elizabeth cast a quick glance at her sister, who was standing arm in arm with Alexander Wickham, and was relieved to see that Lydia was smiling with pleasure.
“The bond and covenant of marriage was established by God in creation,” the curate continued, “and our Lord Jesus Christ adorned this manner of life by his presence and first miracle at a wedding in Cana of Galilee. It signifies to us the mystery of the union between Christ and his Church, and Holy Scripture commends it to be honored among all people…”
Elizabeth tried to focus on the ancient words from the Book of Common Prayer, but in spite of her good intentions, her thoughts kept shifting away from her current location to the busyness of the previous days. And busy they had been! Alexander had rushed to Derby to obtain a license, and then he and Mr. Bennet had visited with a solicitor to draw up the marriage settlements.
In the meantime, Elizabeth and Lydia had met with Mrs. Hayward, the middle-aged widow who served as housekeeper and cook for Alexander. She, along with a young maid of all works, Molly, who lived with her family in the village, comprised Alexander’s entire staff of servants.
Her mind shifted to the previous evening, when Lydia had insisted that she needed a personal maid of her own. This was absurd, as the Bennets, in spite of a substantially larger income than her new fiancé, did not have a maid for each of the Bennet daughters.
Lydia’s demand had been annoying, but Elizabeth was greatly impressed with Alexander Wickham’s response. He did not scold his young bride, or dismiss her, or make fun of her. He took the time to explain that since funds were limited, there would be no hiring of additional servants until he had the opportunity to consider Lydia’s other needs, such as new gowns and caps as befitted her position as a matron. He did not give false promises, but neither was he unkind.
In thinking over her sister’s idiotic flight with George Wickham, she could only thank the Lord God above that Lydia was now united with a genuinely kind and honorable man.
***
Dining Room
The Parsonage
Later
“May I please have some potatoes?” Lydia asked.
Elizabeth passed the dish to her sister and looked around with satisfaction. The wedding breakfast was a simple one, but Mrs. Simmons had arranged for some tasty treats from the baker in the village, and the food was well cooked.
“Elizabeth,” Mr. Bennet said, “I intend to leave for Longbourn within the hour. Perhaps you could join me in the drawing room to discuss a few matters?”
Elizabeth lifted one eyebrow in surprise but nodded immediately. “Of course, Father.”
She finished her meal with haste and rose to follow her father out of the dining room, down a short hall, and into the drawing room, where he waited for her to take a seat near the fire before lowering himself across from her.
“I did not realize you intended to leave for Longbourn today,” she said.
Bennet ran a hand over his brow and said, “I only decided this morning, but I do not wish for Jane and Bingley to have to wait any longer than necessary for their own marriage. If I leave now, I hope to be home by tomorrow evening.”
Elizabeth nodded, though her heart sank a little. It was an intimidating prospect to be left alone here in Kympton, far away from home, with her newly married fifteen-year-old sister and Mr. Wickham.
“You could come with me, Lizzy,” Bennet stated, looking carefully at her face.
She shook her head and managed a smile. “No, Father, I will stay here. Lydia needs me and, I daresay, Alexander needs me too. Moreover, I agree that the sooner you return to Longbourn, the better.”
Bennet grimaced and said, “I am incredibly grateful to you and for you, my dear, and I am aware that I have not said that enough. You are clever, diligent, and hardworking, and I do not deserve you.”
“Nonsense, Father. You must not say such things.”
“I do not say such things enough, and I am well aware of it. I also wish to apologize for hiding your identity as the heiress of Longbourn. I had good intentions, as your mother is fearful of losing the estate to a hypothetical son-in-law, and I did not want her haranguing you to stay single. However, Lydia obviously misunderstood the situation, which partially drove her decision to elope with Wickham. Or do you think she would have done so regardless of the disposition of the estate?”
Elizabeth thought that her father wished for reassurance, but she forced herself to genuinely ponder the question before saying, “I think that she would have run off regardless, but I cannot be certain. She was concerned about being forced to live at home under Mamma’s domination, and her marriage has ended that possibility. The reason I think that she would have run off anyway is that George Wickham is a truly bewitching man and, while I am obviously older and more sensible than Lydia, I was strongly drawn to him when we first met. I assuredly would not have eloped, but I can understand her doing so given her obvious lack of virtue.”
Her father’s head bowed in a dispirited way. “It never occurred to me that she might do such a thing, but I have been an indolent father, and I am well aware of it.”
She leaned forward and touched his knee, and he looked up at her, his forehead lined with deep wrinkles.
“Father,” she said softly, “by the grace of God and the kindness of others, Lydia is now married to an excellent man. It is truly incredible how different the brothers are, and we all have reason to be grateful for the end result.”
“Indeed,” her father replied and managed a slight smile. “Yes, you are right. We are very fortunate.”
She kept her hand on her father’s knee for another moment and then rose and said, “I wish to write a letter to Jane, so that you can take it with you. If you will excuse me?”
“Of course, my dear.”