Chapter Two

Darcy

6 th January 1812

London

“ … And then my uncle told me no matter what,

he shall see Edward wed this year. He is eager for him to have a son, so the line will continue. You know his biggest fear is for the Matlock title to return to the Crown,” Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam said, and then patted Darcy’s back. “So it seems you will be going to a wedding.”

“What did Edward have to say about that?” he enquired and took a sip of cognac. The strong liquor stung his throat and left a pleasant tingle once it had gone down.

“I do not think he knows it yet. Father will likely select a lady and present her to him. He will make it look as though it is Edward’s own choice, but we all know what my father is like. I am sometimes grateful to be only a second son, so I do not have to worry about things such as producing an heir and carrying on the line.” He took a swallow before fixing his gaze on Darcy. “But what of you? When will you marry our dear cousin Anne? I will tell you, Aunt Catherine mentioned the matter more than once when I was at Rosings in November and then again at Christmas. She had hoped to announce a date.”

Darcy narrowed his eyes at his cousin. He knew he was speaking in jest, for the entire family, besides his Aunt Catherine, knew that there was no chance Darcy and Miss Anne would ever get married. They liked one another well enough as friends and cousins, but neither was inclined to marry the other. Still, his aunt insisted on a supposed promise made between Darcy’s mother, Lady Anne, and Aunt Catherine which would see their eldest children married.

Darcy had hoped with time, his aunt might forget the matter, but thus far he’d not been fortunate enough for that to come to pass. That was also why he’d declined, when his aunt invited him to Rosings for Christmastide. He preferred spending Christmas with Georgiana at Darcy House in London, away from the chaos a family celebration brought with it. Besides, the last thing Georgiana needed was to be subjected to her aunt’s questioning regarding the unfortunate events that had taken place at Ramsgate some months ago.

“I shall rather make my own selection when it comes to a wife,” Darcy said. “But you know this.”

“Indeed, I do,” Richard said and leaned back, smacking his lips after taking another drink. Then, his eyes focused on the third occupant of their table and Darcy felt his jaw clench with tension. Bingley, his dear friend, sat across from him with a countenance that betrayed his misery. It bordered on a miracle his friend had even agreed to come with them as he had been averse to social interaction for weeks now. However, he and Richard had known one another for years and thus he’d agreed to come to Brooks with Darcy to see Richard during one of his rare visits to London.

“Pray, Bingley, what of you? Have you anything to report?” Richard asked.

Bingley looked up. “Report?” he asked, making it clear he had not paid much attention at all.

“Regarding a young lady. I know you had that entanglement in Hertfordshire a few months ago, but I’d assumed by now you might have met someone, perhaps at one of the many masquerade balls? I always adored those,” Richard said as Darcy’s eyes grew wide. Bingley looked at them, thus far he had spent most of the afternoon silently staring into his drink without joining much in the conversation.

“I have not partaken in any balls. As far as my entanglement in Hertfordshire, it was far more than that. I- I…”

He shook his head, took his glass and gulped the rest of the cognac down with haste before banging the glass on the table and standing up. “If you will excuse me, I have a megrim coming on. I shall see you tonight.”

Then he pushed his chair back with such force it almost tumbled over and rushed out of the club.

“Goodness gracious, what in the world has happened to him? Is he still upset about that woman?” Richard asked and turned his perplexed visage to Darcy who let out a prolonged sigh.

“He is. He has been misery itself since he made the decision not to return to Hertfordshire. As you might remember, Caroline Bingley wrote to Miss Bennet to inform her the family would not return, thus letting her know informally that the courtship was at an end. Bingley hasn’t been himself since. I thought he would have recovered by now, but he is as gloomy and withdrawn as on the day the letter was sent,” Darcy explained.

Richard’s eyebrows rose. “He is? I’ll say, this does not sound like the Charles Bingley I know at all. He usually loses his heart rather quickly, doesn’t he?”

Darcy shrugged. “He has always been the sort to become infatuated with one pretty lady or another, only for the feelings to evaporate the moment they parted ways. So, I thought this would happen again now. But it seems it is different this time. I misjudged his attachment to Miss Bennet. I simply hadn’t realised quite how fond he was of her. He has been miserable ever since the courtship ended, and I do not know what to do to help him recover.”

“To hear he hasn’t attended a single masquerade ball shocks me. He was always at the heart of any celebration. And he was so eager to immerse himself in the world of the gentry, seeing how he was going to be a landed gentleman himself soon.” Richard shook his head as he stared at the door that had closed behind Bingley some time ago.

“He has little interest in anything. He does not want to go to the theatre. He does not want to go to dinners. It was only because you were here that he agreed to come out today. I feel that I made a terrible mistake, Richard,” Darcy confessed while staring at his glass. Such declarations passed his lips rarely but it couldn’t be denied any more.

“You?” Richard sat upright. “I never thought I would hear Fitzwilliam Darcy utter such words.”

“Do not mock me, Richard. I feel bad enough as it is. I was certain he would have recovered by now. I was sure I did what was best for him.”

“You assured me it was a terrible match,” Richard said. “You no longer believe this to be so?”

“I did and I do. Still, I feel I ought to have been more circumspect. I have looked over the papers compiled by Mr Hurst again and again. There is no doubt about it. Financially and socially, this is a bad match. However, I feel I have overlooked one thing.”

“The woman in question,” Richard said.

“Indeed, the woman in question. I can’t help but wonder if Mr Hurst and his sisters were wrong about her. What if she did truly love him? What if I was imprudent and ruined what could have been a happy match? I should have gone to at least investigate the situation for myself. I should have met the woman.” Darcy had wrestled with these thoughts for many weeks now but never said them out loud. Doing so now only impressed upon him further what he should have done.

“It is not too late to do so now,” Richard said while tracing his index finger along the tablecloth. “What is stopping you?”

“Stopping me?” Darcy asked. “What is stopping me is that the courtship is over. They are separated.”

“Fitzwilliam,” Richard said and rolled his eyes before chuckling. “You sometimes do amaze me with how little you understand of the world of romance. If one loves another, if one is truly moon-eyed, there is no such thing as a permanent separation.”

Darcy pondered this. If Bingley suffered so much with this separation, it stood to reason that a tender-hearted woman would feel the same if not more—if her feelings were similarly deep to begin with. The idea that there was a young woman out there struggling as much as Bingley bothered Darcy terribly. Could it be that Richard was correct and it wasn’t too late to set things right?

But going to Hertfordshire just to see this woman? It was a little odd, wasn’t it? He voiced this concern to his cousin who shrugged.

“Did Bingley not say that he has to meet with this Mr Morris to cancel the lease on Netherfield? Perhaps you could offer to go in his stead. It would be a reason to go there and stay for a few days. You could close up Netherfield for good, and manage whatever Bingley has left untended to? Make certain you meet this young lady while you are there. You need not even tell him why you’d like to go. You can simply do so as a favour.”

Darcy leaned back and pondered this proposition. Certainly, going to Hertfordshire to see this family for himself would be helpful to appease his guilty conscience—or to correct his error if need be. If he went, he might find the family as terrible as described and he would be able to live with himself. And if perchance, he found this Jane Bennet to be as enchanting as Bingley described her, and as infatuated with him, then… well. Then he’d have to do his best to undo his actions.

But that was a worry for another day. Now he had to decide what to do. Involve himself further? Or walk away, hoping time would heal his friend’s broken heart. As he sat there and considered his options he understood at once that in his heart he already knew what he had to do. Really, there was but one path forward if he ever hoped to live with himself again. He’d have to go to Hertfordshire himself.

***

Darcy stood at the entrance of Darcy House, his hand resting on the polished brass handle of the hired carriage door. Darcy had told Bingley that he had some personal matters to deal with in Northamptonshire and had offered to pay a visit to Longbourn on his return to London. Bingley had been grateful for Darcy’s suggestion—his friend had admitted that he had been dreading returning to settle his affairs, as he felt that his heart couldn’t take seeing Miss Bennet again. So a week later, Darcy was all set for the trip to Hertfordshire. He’d decided to hire a carriage to travel to Netherfield and return in the phaeton Bingley had left behind.

The horses snorted and pawed at the cobblestones impatiently, their breath visible in the crisp morning air. He had arranged with Bingley to wrap up the latter’s affairs at Netherfield, but in reality, he had another, more personal mission—to meet the Bennet family and determine if he had indeed made a grave mistake in advising Bingley against a match with Jane Bennet.

In a few hours, he would arrive at Netherfield. He would settle in for perhaps a week, and as Bingley’s representative, he would execute the cancellation of the agreement between Bingley and Mr Morris, the owner. During his time there, he would venture into Meryton and do his best to find out what he could about the family.

Then, he would return and consider his next steps. He took a breath and was about to step into the carriage, when a familiar voice called his name.

“Darcy!”

He turned, and his expression hardened as he saw George Wickham striding towards him. Wickham, with his easy smile and confident demeanour, looked as if he were merely greeting an old friend, but Darcy knew better.

“What do you want, Wickham?” Darcy asked.

Wickham’s smile widened as he approached. “What sort of greeting is this for an old family friend?” He stopped and took in the carriage. “Headed out of town? Back to Pemberley? Marvellous, Darcy, Marvellous indeed. It is always good to return home to Pemberley.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “My plans are of no concern to you.”

“A master at polite conversation as always. I knew you had no skill when it comes to civil discourse, Darcy, but this is—”

“Wickham, I haven’t the time or desire to converse with you. If you have something to say, do it quickly, although I cannot imagine what there is left to say.”

Wickham leaned forward and peered inside the carriage. “Is Miss Darcy not with you?”

Darcy’s jaw tightened, but he felt relieved to know Georgiana was at Pemberley, a safe distance from this man. “I would advise you not to even utter her name, Wickham.”

Wickham stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Very well. But I must speak to you. Perhaps we should continue this conversation inside. It’s rather urgent.”

Darcy shook his head, his expression firm. “I have somewhere to be, Wickham. This conversation is over.”

“Where are you going with such urgency, Darcy?” Wickham pressed. “Surely you can spare a moment.”

“It is none of your concern,” Darcy replied icily.

Wickham’s eyes glittered with frustration. “Darcy, this is important. Perhaps I could ride with you and we can talk on the way. I’ll find my own way back.”

“No,” Darcy said dismissively, stepping into the carriage. “Good day, Wickham.”

With a final glare, Darcy signalled to the driver. The carriage rolled away from Darcy House, leaving Wickham standing alone on the cobblestones.

As the carriage picked up speed, Darcy couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Wickham’s presence boded ill. He had made it clear to him that Georgiana and the rest of his family were out of bounds. Wickham was not to speak to them, harass them, or even look at them in any way, or Darcy would have to deal with him once and for all. He knew all about Wickham’s petty crimes and gambling debts and, if he wished, he could cause the rascal great harm. The reason he hadn’t, was because his father had been fond of the man, for whatever reason. But if he continued to act as he had, Darcy would be left with no choice.

For the time being, he pushed the unpleasant encounter to the back of his mind. What Wickham wanted was not important right now. What mattered was only the task at hand. He would deal with Wickham when he returned from Hertfordshire—if need be.