Page 3

27th November 1812, Wednesday

Darcy woke up at the crack of dawn, having slept fitfully at best.

The entire night Wickham’s acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth had played in his mind like a nightmare.

Knowing that she hated him, the thought that maybe the two of them had spent time just laughing at him- a part of him had wanted to abandon it all and return to Pemberley

But then, there were other nightmares.

Nightmares of Miss Elizabeth, her lovely face twisted in grief and tear stained- so very much like Goergiana’s when she realised all that had happened with Wickham- all that could have happened were it not for her big brother.

Except- Miss Elizabeth did not have a brother to protect her from that monster.

She had a father who loved her- yes, but it was like Miss Lucas had said.

Mr Bennet was indolent.

He did not censure the silliest of the ladies in his family, how could he be expected to look out for Miss Elizabeth, by far his wittiest and most bewitching daughter?

No- whether Miss Elizabeth was aware of it or not, she needed him.

Wickham had already played with the heart of one lady he loved dearly, he could not let him do it again with another.

So, Darcy got up with the sun instead and rang for his valet.

Niles might have been confused at his master’s early return to bed last night and even more so when Darcy informed him of his planning to go to Town that day, but he knew better than to speculate.

Instead, he got his master clothed and his morning coffee served efficiently and Darcy was out of Netherfield by five o’clock .

He’d left a note for the Bingleys, stating urgent business and his intention to return as early as later in the day.

The Bingleys themselves only got up sometime in the middle of the afternoon and gathered for breakfast, and Caroline, when she learned Mr Darcy’s whereabouts, despaired at her plan of leaving Netherfield and consequently the Bennets as soon as possible falling apart.

Darcy made it into London in under three hours, having had to change horses in the middle with the speed with which he had been going.

He stopped at the Darcy house first knowing he could not meet his solicitor as he was, dusty from his travels and smelling like horse.

Mrs Norse, his housekeeper, was surprised to see him- there had hardly been any time to send a note ahead announcing his arrival- but nevertheless, she prepared a bath for him readily.

After changing into cleaner clothes and indulging in a light breakfast at the manor, Darcy felt a bit revived.

His shoulders, tense ever since his conversation with Miss Lucas, deigned to relax in familiar surroundings.

Still, He did not dawdle.

As soon as he was done with his breakfast, he called for his carriage and made his way to his solicitor’s office.

Gerald McDuff was a balding, pot bellied man in his late 50s and had been employed by the Darcy family for decades.

After Darcy and his cousin, the colonel, it was Gerald himself who knew the most about Wickham’s true character and his vices.

After all, he was the man who’d kept record of all the accounts that Darcy had settled in Wickham’s name and the list of all the female employees that had been given work in either Pemberley or in Lambton after they had been ruined by the scoundrel.

“Darcy! My Boy!” McDuff greeted him enthusiastically, “I was under the impression you were with the Bingleys. Helping your friend manage his estate in- where was it?”

“Hertfordshire.” Darcy replied, taking a seat across the table from the lawyer, “I am. I will be returning as soon as we finish here. ”

McDuff raised a brow, intrigued, “Well? What can I do for you, my lad?”

Darcy sighed, “I’ve recently had an encounter with George Wickham.”

Gerald froze from where he had been about to light a cigar, and then slowly snuffed out the match,

“What’s that rascal done now?”

“As far as I know, nothing yet.” Darcy huffed, “Except for spouting his usual lies, that is.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say Darcy, but unlike debt collectors and angry fathers, you can’t pay rumours to go away.” McDuff snorted humorlessly, “Now, maybe if you were of a more naturally charming disposition-”

Darcy rolled his eyes, “I did not come to you because of the rumours. I came because I need proof. I need papers that show Wickham as the guilty party out of the two of us.”

“Darcy,” McDuff sighed a little pityingly, “As understanding as it is to want to clear your name, you know if you try to show everyone Wickham’s true colours, your sister’s reputation will be in jeopardy.”

Darcy stiffened.

He did not need the reminder.

“I’m aware. Which is why this isn’t about clearing my name or showing Wickham’s colours. This is about warning someone. There is a young lady he seems to have set his eyes on.”

McDuff looked at him inquisitively, “Then warn her, Darcy. You don’t need legal documents to warn someone. ”

Darcy hesitated, “The young lady in question- I’m afraid she will not believe me over Wickham.”

“Well then, she’s a fool!”

“ McDuff! ”

Darcy’s protest was loud, and so unexpected that McDuff could only blink, shocked.

He could see the other man trying to collect himself, and for the first time since Darcy entered his office, McDuff straightened his posture, suddenly all business,

“This young lady,” He asked, leaning a little forward, “Who is she?”

The look in McDuff’s eyes was far too paternal for Darcy’s liking, making him feel like a schoolboy.

Darcy squirmed under his gaze, could feel colour rising high on his cheeks,

“Miss Elizabeth.” He ended up muttering, then cleared his throat, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Her father owns a modest estate in the area.”

“I see.” McDuff said after a moment of silence.

Darcy could not make out his tone for the life of him, “And you have tender feelings for this woman?”

The flush on his face darkened, but nevertheless, Darcy nodded again, steeling himself for disapproval.

McDuff did not say anything for a long second, then suddenly slumped back in his chair, “I have to say, I thought this day would never come. Fitzwilliam Darcy in love .”

Darcy’s head shot up to look at him, “You don’t think it wrong? Our standings in society are far too different. ”

McDuff shrugged, “You are a gentleman. She is a gentleman’s daughter. In that, at least, you are equal.”

“She is a country gentleman’s daughter. Her uncle on her mother’s side is in trade. My grandfather is an earl. My family would never accept her.”

“Your family accepted your father.” McDuff reminded him, “Your mother was the daughter of an Earl and the Darcys, though wealthy, were, like you said, country gentlemen. Your mother, with her beauty and her charms and her position, could’ve married further up into the peerage if she wished. But she fell in love with your father instead.”

Darcy stood up, a little agitated.

Now that the topic had been breached, he could not help himself, “It’s not just the social standing, however. There is also- The lady’s family. They’re shameless . Her mother, her younger sisters, and occasionally even her father-”

“Forgive me for pointing this out, Darcy, but your aunt Catherine isn’t any better. She’s been badgering me since you were but a boy of fifteen to write up marriage settlement papers for you and your cousin Anne. Why do you think your Earl Matlock has her situated at a safe distance in Rosings instead of in town? Because she would be an embarrassment in society with her brash manner.”

Darcy stared at him, dumbfounded.

But then, he shook his head.

Now was not the time to deal with…

that.

“To all the objections I’ve raised, there is one more.” Darcy said, his voice having weakened considerably since the beginning of the discussion,

“What else, Darcy? Not handsome enough?” McDuff jested, but Darcy coloured in response ,

“She’s the handsomest creature I ever beheld.” Darcy sighed, then slumped against his seat, defeated, “She also very much hates me.”

McDuff laughed at this, making Darcy glare daggers at him, “Oh, come my boy, don’t look so glum! You managed to find the one woman in all of England who doesn’t want to marry you. I daresay she belongs in a museum!”

“Gerald-”

“And you say she prefers Wickham, does she?” McDuff grinned, teasing, “You might as well be living in the plot of one of my wife’s novels.”

Darcy rolled his eyes, offended at the man’s gaiety in the face of such serious a matter, “Will you just hand me over the papers, Gerald?”

“Certainly!” McDuff replied happily, but made no move towards the cabinets.

Instead, he leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers, “As soon as you tell me all about this Miss Elizabeth Bennet of yours.”

─── ※ ·?· ※ ───

By the time Darcy got back on the road to Hertfordshire, he had spent three hours in London.

Still, talking with Gerald had lightened his heart a little.

The man might be his employee, but after his uncle, Gerald McDuff was also the closest thing he had to a father-figure.

He had been disappointed in Darcy’s behaviour when he had recounted his acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth, and then he had been equally amused when Darcy told him how he had believed Miss Elizabeth to be very much in love with him until he had been informed otherwise by her most particular friend.

Wickham’s scheme against the lady had angered him, moreso when he realised how high Darcy kept her in his regard.

In a way, telling someone about his feelings and intentions towards Miss Elizabeth so plainly had made it all the more difficult to fool himself.

He could not deny it anymore.

He loved her.

He wanted to marry her.

And she hated him.

The documents, safely packaged and sealed, in his left jacket pocket, seemed to burn.

He dared not let himself hope.

Not for one second.

Even if it weren’t for Wickham, Darcy had done a well enough job by himself to make sure that Miss Elizabeth never saw him again in a favourable light.

He might convince her never to trust Wickham but it was not going to endear him to her.

At best, he knew all he could hope for was civility.

But maybe- maybe after her ire had cooled off a little, and after he had apologised a million times for all the millions of offences, maybe he could woo her to-

He dared not hope.

It was around 3 o’clock in the afternoon when Darcy reached Meryton.

The town was quieter than usual.

Most of its inhabitants resting at home after a ball well-enjoyed.

Still, as a start, Darcy made a point to tip his hat in greeting to anyone whose eyes he met, after all, he was accustomed to doing the same with the townspeople he was familiar with in Lambton.

It did not surprise him how shocked the people of Meryton seemed at this barest form of civility coming from him, but it made him incredibly uncomfortable nonetheless.

Further into Hertfordshire, the familiar grounds between Netherfield and Longbourn relaxed him.

He still had to present the papers to Miss Elizabeth in a way that would not make her question his motives, not to mention, he still very much had to apologise to her for his slight at the Meryton Assembly- but, for the moment, he had done his job.

He had kept his promise .

He slowed down Bubbles, his black stallion, down to a soft trot and pulled off his top hat, determined to enjoy the exceptionally warm weather and the bright sun.

The greenery of the woods surrounded him and the day was unusually bright despite the shade from the luscious trees around him.

In a few miles, he would be at Netherfield and would no doubt have to undergo an interrogation from Miss Bingley.

Hesitating for only half a second, Darcy veered his horse off the road and into the wilderness.

If he was not wrong, there was a small lake a little farther in, and Darcy could not see why he could not take a leisurely stroll through the more scenic path down to Netherfield.

He could do with a little more quiet and surely, Bubbles would thank him for it .