Page 6 of I am Jael (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

“Does Lady Catherine have any other close family?” Elizabeth asked abruptly. It was an awkward conversational segue and not worthy of her usual verbal prowess, but Mr. Collins had been droning on about his Lady’s recommendations on the keeping of poultry for the last twenty minutes.

Given Lady Catherine’s reputed character, it seemed likely the woman had never been within ten feet of an actual chicken, so it seemed absurd that her advice was of any use whatsoever. Clearly, Mr. Collins did not agree based on his enthusiasm.

“Oh yes, Miss Elizabeth!” Collins replied after a moment, his rather watery blue eyes brightening with fervor. “Indeed, you will no doubt have the honor of meeting her two nephews at Easter, when they will pay their usual visit to Rosings.”

Elizabeth winced slightly at this clear expectation on her cousin’s part that she would marry Mr. Collins and be installed in the Hunsford parsonage by Easter.

“It must be pleasant for Lady Catherine to be visited so regularly,” Jane murmured kindly, “especially given that Miss de Bourgh’s fragile health keeps them from traveling extensively.”

“Indeed, Cousin Jane, you are entirely correct, though of course her nephews are truly blessed to enjoy both their aunt’s kindness and wisdom during their stay.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, younger son of the Earl of Matlock, is a military man, but Mr. Darcy is owner of the vast estate of Pemberley in Derbyshire.

I am certain that Mr. Darcy learns much about estate management from his aunt. ”

“Is this the Mr. Darcy who is visiting Mr. Bingley?” Mary asked timidly.

She and her older sisters were ensconced in the parlor with Mr. Collins this evening.

Their mother was busy discussing upcoming meals with the cook and the two younger girls had made excuses and flitted off before being trapped by their cousin’s droning speech.

Their father, of course, was hiding in his library.

Mr. Collins’s rather protuberant eyes widened in surprise, “Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Hall? The gentleman hosting a ball in a few days?”

“Yes,” Mary replied quietly. “He has a guest named Mr. Darcy, who is owner of a large estate in Derbyshire worth 10,000 pounds a year.”

Mr. Collins’s loose mouth wobbled in shock and he leaned back into his chair, apparently needing its support, “My dear cousins, what an honor, to hear that my own benefactress’s nephew is so close to Longbourn! I look forward to meeting the future husband of Miss de Bourgh!”

Elizabeth sighed inwardly at these words. Mr. Darcy, as the social superior, could choose whether or not to be introduced to Mr. Collins, and given the former’s pride it seemed unlikely that he would willingly choose to meet anyone associated with the Bennets.

Nevertheless, she felt vaguely comforted that in this arena, at least, Mr. Wickham had been correct.

Mr. Wickham had claimed that Pemberley and Rosings would be united with the marriage between Darcy and Miss de Bourgh, and apparently that was true.

Perhaps the situation with Mr. Darcy was a complex one in which both men were at fault.

Wickham clearly knew a great deal about the extended family.

“I did not know that Mr. Darcy was engaged, Mr. Collins,” Mary commented softly, her eyes on her needlework.

“Oh yes, Cousin Mary. Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh have been betrothed from their cradles. It is Lady Catherine’s greatest wish!”

Elizabeth blinked and shot a glance at Jane, who looked bewildered.

“Is their wedding date set?” Elizabeth ventured curiously.

“No, not yet. The cousins are not yet formally betrothed, I believe. But when the happy event takes place, I look forward to presenting the sermon. What a glorious moment it will be, when the estates of Pemberley and Rosings are united by this most sacred and holy marriage!”

“Perhaps Miss de Bourgh wishes to attain her majority before entering the wedded state,” Mary suggested.

“Well, as to that, Miss de Bourgh enjoyed her twenty-fifth birthday only several weeks ago. But in due time, I am certain she will be joined in marriage with Mr. Darcy, as Lady Catherine has ordained.”

Elizabeth sighed again, this time openly.

Given her admittedly limited knowledge of Mr. Darcy, it seemed unlikely that the man would allow himself to be bullied into marrying his cousin by the autocratic Lady Catherine.

Perhaps Mr. Darcy would marry Anne de Bourgh.

Perhaps not. But Mr. Wickham’s claims that the marriage, based on avarice and pride, was inevitable, were not necessarily true.

“Are you well, Cousin Elizabeth?” Mr. Collins inquired, shifting clumsily from de Bourgh enthusiast to devoted suitor.

“I find myself extremely tired, Mr. Collins,” she replied, rising to her feet. Her sisters rose with her. “I bid you good night.”

/

Darcy stared with grim satisfaction as Colonel Fitzwilliam coughed hard, expelling stray droplets of brandy.

“Georgie did what?!” Richard demanded once he had recovered from his fit.

Darcy told him. It was a relief to lay out his conversation with Georgiana, to share the burden of anxiety over the future of his sweet, suddenly fiery sister.

The Colonel listened gravely to his cousin’s exposition, his face shifting from the cheerful aristocrat to the military man. When Darcy had finished, silence reigned for a minute as Richard considered his words.

“Jael?” he finally asked in a puzzled tone.

“She appears in the fourth chapter of the book of Judges,” Darcy explained. “Her method of dealing with an evil man was to put him to bed and drive a stake through his head when he had fallen asleep.”

“I see,” Richard murmured, then lifted his head to look directly into his cousin’s eyes, “I am proud of Georgie. She did a very brave thing.”

Darcy jerked in surprise at these words, “Proud of her? She put herself in danger, Richard! Wickham is obviously a more violent man than I knew, and she confronted him openly and publicly! Even if he does not attempt to harm her physically, her reputation will be in ruins if Wickham shares the details of what happened at Ramsgate!”

The Colonel frowned at these words, “As for her physical safety, we will ensure that she is guarded at all times, Darcy. Those two footmen of yours should be with her when she is outside, and we can warn Bingley to be careful of security in the house. Not that I expect Wickham will try anything. Frankly, he is a coward.”

“He apparently attacked Jenny Reynolds,” Darcy pointed out.

Richard sighed, “A chicken-hearted attack, Darcy. Wickham no doubt found it all too easy to overpower your maid, but he would not dare confront a strong man.”

“I am horrified at his actions. I had no idea that he attacked the girl, and am grieved that Mrs. Reynolds did not approach me.”

The Colonel shrugged, “Georgiana said this happened eight years ago? Your father was ailing at the time and you were a young man struggling to learn how to administer the estate on rather short notice, even as you worried about your father. And Georgie is right – you wouldn’t have really done anything about Wickham, I expect.

At that time, he was no doubt still seeing your father on a regular basis and you would not have deprived Uncle Darcy of that pleasure. ”

Fitzwilliam Darcy opened his mouth to protest, then closed it.

“He was my father’s godson, and his favorite,” he said after a moment.

“Your father had no idea of the man that George Wickham was,” the Colonel replied sternly.

“True.”

The two cousins stood silent for a few brooding minutes before Darcy turned to gaze directly into his cousin’s eyes, “Regardless of my failings where Wickham is concerned, and I acknowledge I have failed, I want you to take Georgiana back to London tomorrow. She’ll be safer there.”

Richard responded promptly, “No, I am staying here. If you want to take her back, you may, but I would not advise it.”

“Why not?”

“You need to think like a military man in this case, Darcy. Georgiana confronted Wickham in a bookstore in Meryton. We do not know exactly what she said, but she revealed at least some of his lies about the Darcy family. If she scurries away from Hertfordshire quickly, anything that Wickham tells about her will seem more valid, as if she is afraid of him or ashamed of his words. No, the tactical high ground is for her to stay here, along with both you and me. We should enjoy our time in the country and befriend the neighbors. If Wickham spreads gossip about her, many will believe he is merely trying to obfuscate his own deception.”

“The people here are simple folks, Richard,” Darcy stated. “They are more likely to believe Wickham, I fear. He is, as Georgie said, quite charming.”

“By which I assume you have managed to alienate the locals,” the Colonel replied with an irritated sigh. “That is another reason for me to stay. I am not as endearing as Wickham, but everyone agrees I am an agreeable soul, unlike the stern and distant Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.”

Darcy sighed, “I am weary, Richard, and not inclined to debate with you anymore. I am going to bed now. We will speak of this in the morning.”

“I look forward to it. With Georgiana as our inspiration, perhaps we can finally rid the world of the excrescence that is George Wickham.”

/

“Richard!”

“Georgiana,” Colonel Fitzwilliam exclaimed, turning to face his warmly dressed cousin. “I had no idea you would be up at this early hour. I hope you rested well?”

“I did, though I woke up when the birds started chirping vociferously. They are louder here than in London. I was hoping you had a few minutes to talk.”

Richard lifted his brows and nodded at the footman at Georgiana’s heels, “John, or is it Jacob?”

“Jacob, sir,” the man said with a courteous bob of the head.

“Jacob, if you will wait here, I’ll take a short walk with my cousin and then you can escort her back into the house.”

“Yes, sir.”

Richard tucked Georgiana’s arm into his own and began walking through the paths of Netherfield’s well-tended garden.

It was a chilly day and he would not stay out long, but he needed a few minutes to clear his mind.

Miss Bingley was an exhausting breakfast companion, prone to chattering incessantly.

“Richard?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“What can you tell me about Marshalsea?”

The Colonel stopped and looked directly into the girl’s eyes, “The debtors’ prison?”

“Yes,” Georgiana said with a regal lift of her chin. “The debtors’ prison.”