Page 16 of Rumours & Recklessness (Sweet Escapes Collection #1)

Chapter 14

D arcy did not even bother knocking when he barged into Colonel Fitzwilliam’s bedchamber in the frosty gloom of morning. It was only fair, he thought in justification. It was no more than Richard had done to him the day before—though, perhaps, a bit earlier in the morning.

Grousing, Richard rolled over and tugged the pillow over his head. “Have a care, Foster! I had watch last night! Out, and do not wake me before seven hundred!”

Darcy snatched the pillow. “I’m not Foster, and you’re not with the Regiment. Wake up, Richard. I need to talk to you.”

Richard groaned, sat up, and stretched. “Cannot this wait? I am barely human before two stiff cups of coffee. You know that.”

“That matters little. I don’t need a human. I am accustomed to dealing with an orangutan. Richard—do you think me arrogant?”

Richard smirked wryly. “You march in here at an unholy hour and proceed to insult me? No, Darcy, you haven’t an arrogant bone in your body,” he growled sarcastically. “Now, can I get back to sleep?”

Darcy forestalled his cousin from flopping back on the pillow by sitting down on the bed beside him. “I am serious, Richard! Elizabeth told me I was arrogant and conceited. Is she right?”

“Of course, she is. Did you not know? Now, get off my bed.” Richard sleepily gave an ineffectual shove on Darcy’s shoulder. When it didn’t budge his cousin, he resigned himself to the lost sleep and sat up fully, rubbing his eyes.

Darcy felt as though he had been stabbed. “How?” he demanded. “I am fair and generous. I treat others honourably. I have never disgraced a woman, and I am indebted to no one! How can she claim I am arrogant?”

Richard rolled his eyes dramatically, slumping forward with comic flare. “Oh, Darcy, you cannot really think that is all there is to it? When was the last time you willingly conversed with someone beneath your station—someone who did not possess an enchanting wit and lovely dark brown eyes?”

Darcy looked pensive. “Only a moment ago, as a matter of fact. That is neither here nor there, though. What has it to do with my question?”

“Everything,” Richard sighed, peering back in his memory. “I remember Uncle George used to worry that you would be taken in by gold-diggers and flatterers. You were younger than I, you may not have been aware of it, but I remember him speaking to my father more than once about his concerns for you. I think,” he supplied softly, “he knew you would be master at a very young age.”

Darcy wiped his eyes with his hand until they were blurry. He had been ill-prepared at this moment to have Richard bring up his father’s memory. “What can you mean by that?”

“Auntie Anne—sorry, I still think of her by that name—she was always so gentle with you and Georgie. I remember how she would encourage you to speak to anyone and everyone, just to help you overcome your shyness. You took her advice a little too much to heart for Uncle’s comfort. Do you remember how you used to play with the shopkeepers’ boys from Lambton?”

Darcy nodded slowly. “Father eventually declared an end to that. He felt it beneath me.” He had been devastated at the time, although too proud to let his father see it. His playmates had been his primary diversion after losing his mother. After losing their fellowship as well, he had retreated to the stables and his books, and of course, to little Georgiana.

“You must not blame Uncle for that,” Richard continued. “He genuinely feared you would be taken in by anyone who would try to use you for his own advantage. He wanted to prepare you for your responsibilities, and he knew no better way to do it. Father advised him to limit your acquaintance to only those who stood little to gain from using you. Only Wickham was allowed to continue with you, and that was because he was your father’s namesake, and his own father was respectable.”

Darcy chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. “Are you saying that I was purposely taught to be prideful and conceited to protect me from being taken advantage of? That makes no sense.”

“Well, perhaps not in hindsight, no. You were far too soft-hearted, though, and Uncle knew it. Remember the robin’s nest?

Darcy laughed lowly at this. “I had forgotten about that! I cried about those broken eggs the entire afternoon until Father returned home. Little did I know the empty shells actually meant the chicks had hatched and were well!”

“I remember,” Richard chuckled. “Uncle thought you were being ridiculous! And what happened that time you had to destroy that dying broodmare in the field?”

Darcy shuddered. It was the first time he had had to put an animal out of its misery, but unfortunately not the last. Hunting was different. This had been his father’s finest broodmare, a horse he had ridden himself as a toddler. To this day, she appeared on his pedigrees as one of the grand dams of his own stock, including Pluto. “It was horrible. I will never forget that dreadful shriek, and then the dead foal… that perfect white diamond, such a promising colt...”

“See what I mean? You wouldn’t go back to the stables for days. Uncle felt you needed to learn a little distance, a little coldness even, for your own good. Even then, you were na?ve, blind to Wickham’s ways until you were at school together and were daily confronted with his notoriety. You refused to believe any one of your good friends could be such a rogue. It was while you were at school that you truly began to change. Then later, when you first entered the ton as an eligible bachelor….”

“When I was relentlessly pursued by lacklustre debutantes and their scheming mamas? Yes, I suppose that did pull the wool from my eyes rather quickly. In very little time, I was fed up with most people’s society.”

“Of course, your one close acquaintance who had been truly beneath your status ended up betraying you, no doubt reinforcing your father’s lessons to not mingle below your station. You never were an easy one to know, but you became even more distant and forbidding after that. Bingley has been good for you, I think, but amiable and friendly as he is, even he has not been able to quite chip off that calloused exterior you worked so hard to build up.”

“You would have me make myself vulnerable again? The way you describe it, I have done nothing more than to protect myself.”

“You are ten years the wiser now,” Richard pointed out. “I cannot tell you how delighted I was to hear you had found a woman you truly esteemed—and not even of the ton ! When I first heard of it, I supposed that in pursuing such a woman, you could only have motives of the very noblest kind, and so it is. You can gain nothing from her but the riches of the heart, and that is just as I would wish for you.

“She is magnificent, Darcy—a queen among women, if I may be so bold. She will defrost that tender heart of yours and still make you toe the line. My advice, Darcy, is to do whatever it takes to win her affections, regardless of how you must humble yourself to do it.” Richard stretched sleepily and winked at his cousin. “Had she any dowry of her own, I might not advise you so, for I think she is quite a captivating woman myself! You always did have exquisite taste.”

Darcy ignored his cousin’s jab. “How am I to do so? If you and Miss Elizabeth are correct, I have managed to give offence at every turn. How am I to undo the mistakes of the past weeks or the habits of half a lifetime?”

“Practice makes perfect, old man. Try starting with that mama of Miss Bennet’s. No doubt she will seat you by herself at dinner tomor—I mean tonight. If you can stomach her effusions without making any of your haughty speeches, I would say you are well on your way to learning how to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

Darcy gulped; his eyes widened. “Do you really think that necessary?” For Elizabeth, he would dare anything, risk any chance, but an entire evening trading inanities with Mrs Bennet? Torture!

“Can you think of a better one to practice on?”

Darcy groaned, knowing Richard was right, but dreading the discomfort a long conversation with Mrs Bennet would cost him. “Could we not dig up Wickham? Perhaps I could publicly exonerate him, hand him the keys to Pemberley, and find him a rich bride….”

Richard laughed. “Speaking of our old friend, he may be out of our hair.”

“What? How would that be?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put too much confidence in it. I saw him last evening and made note of the advantages of America. Much opportunity there for a man with ambition, they say.”

“He would never go there willingly. Besides, the fare costs more than he has ever been able to hold on to for more than a week.”

“Oh, I saw to it that was not a concern. He has ample funds for such a voyage.”

Darcy narrowed his eyes. “And I suppose I am twelve guineas the poorer for it? I wondered why my purse seemed so light.”

Richard shrugged, spreading his hands supplicatingly. “Call it an investment. Not that I would expect him to use the money as it was intended, but if he sells up here, he will now have enough to purchase a Lieutenant’s commission in the Regulars or any number of more honourable options. He can have no excuse for sticking around to make trouble for you now, and if he does, well, he is being watched very closely. Colonel Forster and I go back a long way.”

Darcy frowned thoughtfully. “It is an interesting plan, at least. I doubt he will make good use of the funds. More likely, he will use it as seed money to fleece another unsuspecting ‘friend’, but it was worth a try to shield Georgiana—and Elizabeth’s family from him. The younger girls are exactly the kind of empty-headed quarry he tended to favour when we were at school.”

“From what you said, it sounds as though his tastes have lately coincided more with yours.”

Darcy’s face darkened. “He certainly found Miss Elizabeth appealing, for which I could blame no one, I suppose. He did not spare her his charm, either. However,” Darcy rubbed his still-tender jaw, “I believe she will be safe from him now. She knows him for what he truly is, and I have proof that she has enough spunk to send him packing.”

Richard’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You told her everything, didn’t you? Darcy, I never thought to see you so wholly let your guard down. There may be hope for you yet, Cousin!” Richard gave him a playful shove on the shoulder.

Darcy smiled, a warm satisfaction growing. “I am glad you approve.”

Richard grunted. “Now, if you please, my bed? I stayed out half the night drinking with the colonel for your sake, and I deserve my beauty sleep.”

T he grey dawn disappointed more than one person in the general vicinity of Meryton with its heavy downpour. At Longbourn, Elizabeth chafed at being denied the spirited long walk she had desired for herself. Some rebellious part of her had even fantasized that she might encounter Mr Darcy out on one of his early morning rides. A sly little smile curved her lip when she thought what a lovely backdrop Oakham Mount would make for a private conversation. She discovered that she truly wished to speak to him more, to study his character again in light of her new knowledge. Will he still desire to speak to me?

If Jane were correct, he would, and the idea was unreasonably flattering. Elizabeth was not insensible to the compliment of such a distinguished man’s affections. What could have occasioned them? She had never sought his favour, but he seemed to have bestowed it despite her attacks on his honour. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. Only a man of true integrity—or unreasonable obstinacy—would maintain his attachment to a woman who was admittedly beneath his station and extremely rude to him.

She flushed with mortification at the things she had said. Such wrong assumptions she had made! For the first time, she felt that her barbed tongue had led her into great error, and she began almost to see the sense of some of her mother’s complaints. Mrs Bennet had always bemoaned her daughter’s wit, claiming that no sensible gentleman would want a wife who fancied herself cleverer than he. Elizabeth could not help her cleverness; the words simply came to her in the moment. Her father had trained her to think, and her mind was quick and nimble. If only her tongue were less so!

She owed him an apology, she knew. She recalled his stiff response from the day before when she had challenged him with his failure to correct an error. It was she who had made the error, and he who should have been granted the benefit of the doubt as an honourable man. Well , she resolved, I will do it, no matter the cost to my pride . She was still uncertain about the idea of marriage, but she felt fully convicted of her shameful treatment of him. He deserved at least to hear her apologize. After that, he was free to do as he chose.

Elizabeth went through the motions of her morning, doing her level best to tolerate her mother’s gleeful praise. Nothing she could do was wrong in her mother’s eyes today. She had supplanted Lydia as the favourite daughter and Jane as the most promising. The fickleness of her mother’s compliments annoyed her so greatly that in self-defence, she forced her thoughts in a happier direction. She withdrew to her father’s room and Mrs Cooper’s company to read aloud.

Charlotte Lucas paid Elizabeth a visit in mid-morning, sitting with her for a while as she read to her father. Elizabeth was grateful for her company, but she felt terribly awkward discussing her friend’s engagement. Elizabeth could not easily reconcile herself to the idea of her intelligent, sensible friend wed to the pompous fool that she found Mr Collins to be. Still, she would not wound Charlotte for anything and had recently good cause to regret hasty words. By tacit understanding, little was spoken of any engagements after the first acknowledgement of the news.

Mercifully, Mr Collins intended to take his leave this morning so he could return to Hunsford to make preparations for his wedding. Even now, the housemaid was preparing the room he had occupied for Aunt Gardiner’s arrival. Despite her misgivings about relating all the events of the past days, Elizabeth looked forward to her aunt’s visit with every expectation of pleasure and relief.

“T he post is arrived, my lady,” the ageing butler snivelled, extending a small silver tray within his mistress’ obliging reach.

Anne de Bourgh’s eyes fluttered open at the intrusion. The remedies the doctor had been employing of late tended to make her very drowsy, and she had an unsettling habit of dropping off in the middle of meals. Mrs Jenkinson covered smoothly for her, bending her own lace-capped head near to block her mother’s view.

“You are late, Thompson!” the lady’s imperious tones scolded.

“Yes, my lady,” the butler bowed mildly, backing out of the room. It was pointless to protest his innocence, where the tardiness of the mail carrier was concerned. Safest, he had learned it was, to excuse himself quickly.

“Mrs Jenkinson, you put yourself too much forward. Anne must be able to see me.” The great lady’s eyes narrowed disapprovingly. Mrs Jenkinson fawned over Anne to the proper degree to please Her Ladyship but occasionally forgot her place. That was what came of taking on a reduced gentlewoman, she observed.

Anne’s pale face emerged from behind the laced cap. “Anne, you have not finished your soup. You must strive to improve your health! Little wonder Darcy has not formalized your engagement. Do not forget your duty, child!”

Anne was insensible to the exigency of a modest blush on her part in response to her mother’s exhortations. For better than the last ten of her seven and twenty years, she had heard the same diatribe against her health and her own apparent lack of willpower. Clearly, the great lady, who unfortunately must be counted as her mother, considered Anne’s indifferent state as a personal insult.

Lady Catherine frowningly surveyed the assortment of personages paying their respects via this day’s post. Lady Whitcombe, Lady Bramberg, Lady Trenton… all included the ladies’ burgeoning hopes of wishing Lady Catherine joy on her daughter’s upcoming nuptials. Also described by all were vague mentions of hosting a gala at some point, but never a declaration of specific dates or a forthright invitation. Spineless! Why, in her day, a lady acted with decision. The de Bourgh dowager would lend distinction to any such paltry gathering, should she deign to attend. She could not fathom why such fine ladies of the ton would not simply pluck up and host their confounded events.

She had left the most satisfying letter for last. It always gratified her to read her parson’s eminently sensible observations. That, she congratulated herself, had been a providential appointment. William Collins possessed the proper degree of humility and deference and was not backward in paying his compliments.

Anne stirred her soup listlessly, lifting the spoon occasionally to watch the unappetizing liquid strain back into the bowl. A special healing recipe it was supposed to be. Anne thought it more akin to affliction than remedy. She drizzled the spoonful down over the saucer, wrinkling her nose in disgust. At least she was safe from her mother’s pointed observations as she did so—it was always obvious by the single-minded attention paid whenever her mother became engrossed in any correspondence from Collins.

She had just resolved to venture a single bite when an animal shriek split the room. Looking about instinctively for some poor scalded cat, her startled eyes, at last, found her mother. Lady Catherine rose shakily to her feet. Her heirloom dining chair flung backwards on the floor. Her face purpled, eyes flown wide in rage.

“Anne! We are leaving instantly for Hertfordshire!”

M adeline Gardiner arrived at Longbourn at two in the afternoon. She braced herself as the carriage drew to a halt. She felt deep sympathy for her sister and nieces for their present distress, but it would take every drop of her reserves to cope with Mrs Bennet’s despair. She was grateful her new governess was already proving steady and reliable, so she needn’t bring her children. It was a comfort to know they were well situated at home in London so that she could focus all her energies on the Bennets’ present difficulties. She truly hoped that Mr Bennet had miraculously recovered since she had last had word from Jane.

The footman helped her out of the carriage and held an umbrella for her. She smiled her thanks and looked to the house. Instead of the tear-streaked girls she expected, Mrs Bennet herself bounded jubilantly out the front door. “Fanny! Is Mr Ben….”

“Oh, my dearest sister!” Mrs Bennet cut her off, waving her lace handkerchief. “We are saved! You will never guess, so I will tell you. Lizzy, my dearest, sweetest girl, is engaged to Mr Darcy! Is that not splendid! Oh, I shall go distracted. It has been such a thing for our girls! She will have so many fine carriages, and you know, she will be able to throw the other girls into the way of other rich men. Ten thousand a year, sister! Why, ‘tis as good as a lord! And you know, he has a house in Town, and that great estate in Derbyshire—Pemden or something like that.”

Mrs Gardiner’s eyebrows rose. “Pemberley?”

“Yes! Yes, that is it. Will she not be a great lady! I hear it is the finest estate in the entire country! My dearest, sweetest girl, I knew she could not be so clever for nothing! But come, come inside before you catch your death, and I will tell you everything!”

Feeling as though she had already been told almost everything, Mrs Gardiner followed, her eyes searching for her nieces. She was itching for a more sensible account of recent days’ events. She spotted Lizzy with a basin of some kind, surreptitiously sneaking by the opening in the top of the stairwell as she passed beneath. Elizabeth met her aunt’s questioning gaze with an awkward little smile and a small wave. She made a perfunctory gesture with her head toward her father’s room at the end of the hall and slunk away.

Mrs Gardiner’s curiosity was truly piqued. Elizabeth engaged and too embarrassed to tell her of it—too abashed, even, to greet her properly? That was not like Lizzy, who was always frank with her. Moreover, the family’s letters had not breathed a word of any engagement besides Mrs Bennet’s designs on one Mr Bingley for Jane. This all must have come about since Mr Bennet’s accident.

She remembered Lizzy’s last letter, written only the week before. Elizabeth had mentioned meeting Mr Darcy but had not sounded very pleased with the acquaintance. Rather, she had written of a preference for a new recruit in the militia. Indeed, a great deal must have happened!

She gratefully laid aside her wet things and joined her sister-in-law in the drawing-room by the fire. Mrs Bennet giddily filled her in on the juiciest gossip, including her frustration that Mr Bingley had not yet spoken for Jane. “I am sure, Sister, that it can only be a matter of time. Oh! If only Mr Bennet would hurry up and get well, perhaps Mr Bingley can come ask for Jane properly! I am sure that can be all he is waiting for. And then Mary can live with them at Netherfield, while Kitty and Lydia go to Pembrook with Lizzy. Depend on it, Sister, I will have all my girls married to rich men by next summer!”

Jane appeared in the drawing-room almost immediately to hug her aunt. The deepest affection had always existed between the two eldest girls and the Gardiners. Mrs Gardiner had lovingly taken the two under her wing, acting as advisor, confidante, and friend. She had at times suffered a mild pang of guilt that she did not share such a close bond with the three younger girls, but she had discovered it nearly impossible to find common ground with them. The eldest, however, was an open book to her as she studied Jane’s reserved greeting. Her niece’s eloquent face spoke volumes, and she understood there was much to tell once Mrs Bennet had exhausted her narrative.

Half an hour later, she was settled in her room. Jane had followed to help make her comfortable, pausing to rap lightly on Mr Bennet’s door as they walked by. A moment later, Lizzy tiptoed into the room, closing the door softly behind her. Her aunt astutely surmised that Lizzy would have much to say and preferred to do it in privacy.

Mrs Gardiner turned a quizzical eye on her nieces and gently demanded an accounting of their strange behaviour. She saw Jane raise her eyebrows pointedly at Elizabeth and shifted her gaze to the younger of the two. “Lizzy? Have you something of interest to tell me?”

Elizabeth blew out a huff of air, then affected a light manner. “Papa is much better. He has been fluttering his eyelids and drinking more broth today. Mrs Cooper feels he will wake fully within a day or two.”

“And Mrs Cooper is?”

“Uhm… she is the nurse who tends to Papa.”

“Really? I am glad to hear it, but are not nurses very expensive? Of course, your uncle and I will help with those expenses.”

Elizabeth’s eyes rolled hesitantly to Jane, who tilted her head silently with a sly little smile. “There is no need, Aunt,” Jane answered for her. “Mr Darcy has already attended the matter.”

Mrs Gardiner’s eyes widened. “Lizzy, that is not proper! A gentleman must not take on such an interest in a lady’s family. He is liable to compromise you!” She peered carefully at Lizzy’s reddened face. “He has not already done so, has he? Is that why your mother says you are engaged?”

“No, Aunt,” she replied lamely. “Well… perhaps a little.” With another encouraging glance from Jane, she related to her aunt all the events of that fateful morning, not leaving out her own shameful conduct and bad judgement. She forced herself to brave the humiliation, which was her due, and shared everything she had learned to discredit her prior opinions. The only details she kept private were those directly concerning Miss Darcy.

Mrs Gardiner’s shock was evident. “This is surprising, indeed. And do you believe Mr Darcy truly cares for you?” Elizabeth was silent, but Jane nodded energetically.

“Lizzy, you know I grew up in Lambton, only five miles from Pemberley, and still have some connections there. The present Mr Darcy, like his father, has always had a good reputation as a liberal and honourable man, even if he is somewhat above his company as you have said. I remember Old Mr Wickham, he did a deal of business in Lambton on the estate’s behalf, but I have no knowledge of the son. I can only tell you what people generally say of the current Mr Darcy, and there is nothing to reflect poorly on him.”

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably. “I know, Aunt. I have misjudged him.”

Mrs Gardiner moved to sit next to Elizabeth and wrap a comforting arm around her. She gave her other to Jane and pulled her two favourite nieces close. “Are you quite certain that Mr Wickham is the villain you say he is? I do not doubt Mr Darcy’s honour in the matter, as his reputation is that of a fair and just man, but anyone can be mistaken. Your implications as to Mr Wickham’s character are rather serious.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, Aunt, I am sure. I cannot say more, but he is not a man to be trusted. I have no fear for our own family, as we have no dowries to tempt him, but Lydia and Kitty, you know, they are not terribly circumspect. They will flirt with any man wearing a red coat, and I do not think Mr Wickham in possession of the kind of honour which would prevent him from leading them astray, should the opportunity avail itself. I think it would be wise if we were to find some quiet way to shield them from him.”

“Can he be as bad as all that?” Surprise at such a categorical renunciation of a former favourite of Elizabeth’s strained Mrs Gardiner’s voice. She studied her nieces closely. “He must indeed be silver of tongue if even you were fooled, Lizzy! I have never known you to be easily deceived.”

Elizabeth rested her head on her beloved aunt’s shoulder. “No,” she agreed softly. “But my usual perceptiveness, Aunt, has proven to be a folly of its own. Until yesterday, I never knew myself. I had allowed my vanity to lead me and to let me think ill of a decent man simply because he had offended me. I then believed I was right and justified because I usually am right about people. I suppose it amused me to take such a sensational dislike to so consequential a man as Mr Darcy. I had never known myself to be so vulnerable to my own feelings! How am I ever to be sure of not erring so dangerously again?”

“Well, we never can be sure, my dear. I trust you have put a great deal of thought into the matter. I know you, Lizzy, and I should be very surprised if another were ever able to deceive you again so easily. In addition, it seems you have gained for yourself a very wise and valuable ally.” Mrs Gardiner allowed a small mischievous smile to play upon her lips.

Elizabeth reddened again. She looked down at the floor, mortified. Mrs Gardiner turned a questioning gaze on Jane.

“Do not worry, Aunt,” Jane consoled her, an unusually impish expression on her face. “Lizzy is only embarrassed to admit that she thinks Mr Darcy the handsomest man of her acquaintance.”

Elizabeth turned scandalized eyes on her sister. “Jane!”

Jane was enjoying the opportunity to torment her sister for a change. “They do dance very well together, Aunt. It caused a stir indeed when Mr Darcy singled her out over everyone, but as Charlotte Lucas says, he has always looked her direction a good deal when they are in public.”

Elizabeth scowled but would not allow Jane to defeat her at her own game. “And how would you know this, Miss Jane? Your eyes have only been on Mr Bingley since the day he arrived in town!”

“Girls!” Mrs Gardiner quelled them, looking shocked. Jane and Elizabeth both began to laugh, Elizabeth’s embarrassment temporarily banished. “Jane,” Mrs Gardiner turned to her left, with a bluntness only she could get away with. “How do matters stand with Mr Bingley? Your mother is making quite a fuss about him. I should like to know the truth of the matter.”

It was Jane’s turn to blush, but she managed to share with her aunt the details of her understanding with Mr Bingley. Elizabeth arched her eyebrows and pursed her lips playfully, forcing Jane also to confess that she fully returned Mr Bingley’s regard, and was in fact very pleased.

Aunt Gardiner seemed satisfied. “I have not yet received word back from your Uncle, though I should have expected that if a letter were to come, we might have word here as soon as tomorrow. I know he will want to come to us as soon as possible, Jane. Then your Mr Bingley can speak to him to obtain his conditional blessing. You said, I think Lizzy, that you are expecting your father to recover soon? Perhaps we will not need your Uncle’s blessing after all.”

She smiled sweetly at her girls. “Now, my dears, I should like to take a short rest before tea, but Lizzy,” she levelled a gaze at her niece, “I wish to find time to speak with you privately at some point before your dinner guests begin to arrive.”