Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A cold dash of icy fear immediately recalled Elizabeth to sensibility. She leapt backwards from Mr Darcy, then turned to see her youngest sister standing at some distance away from them on the path. Lydia's face was nearly purple with rage as she advanced towards them, glaring at Mr Darcy.

"You!" she shrieked again.

"Lydia." Elizabeth hastened to intervene, thinking how odd it was to have Lydia, of all people, concerned for a stolen kiss among the hedges. "It is not what it seems, and if you will come with me?—"

Lydia pushed by her, very nearly flying at Mr Darcy with skirts and ribbon and violent indignation swirling about her. "Hateful, odious man!"

"Lydia, stop!" Elizabeth cried just as Mr Darcy, in very sedate accents, said, "Do not be dismayed, Miss Lydia."

"Not dismayed? You have ruined everything!" A sob choked Lydia's last words, and Elizabeth observed tears in her sister's eyes when she turned towards her. "Mr Darcy thinks that since he is such a dullard, he ought to prevent others from having fun too! My entire summer is ruined!"

This is about Brighton, Elizabeth recognised with relief. Not the fact that she saw me kissing Mr Darcy. She took her sister's arm and tried to pull her away. "Lydia, dearest, come with me."

Lydia wrenched her arm out of Elizabeth's grasp. "Horrible, odious man!" She made a motion as though she intended to shove Mr Darcy with both hands; fortunately, she was too far away from him to make contact. It only frustrated her more, and she stamped her foot. "He told Papa that he should not let me go to Brighton!"

"There are dangers, real dangers, that a young lady of gentle birth might meet with in such a place," Mr Darcy said to her. "It is difficult, I know, to be of an age where?—"

"Yes, a real danger of someone having a laugh or two instead of being stuck in this dreadful town where nothing ever happens to anyone! Mrs Forster is going to watch over me!" Lydia shouted.

"I have lately learnt that Mrs Forster is with child," Mr Darcy continued in that same calm, steady tone. "She will have enough to occupy her without going round to balls and parties all the time."

Alas, it held too much reason for Lydia. She uttered a wordless growl of frustration, and then resorted to her long-cherished response to anything that vexed her. "I hate you! You are the most vile man I ever knew!"

"Lydia!" Elizabeth said immediately. She shot Mr Darcy a contrite look, then turned to her sister and said, "Apologise to Mr Darcy now for this behaviour."

"Why should I? And why should you want me to? You hate him as much as anyone, Lizzy, and you would hate him even more if you knew what he was about!"

What he was about? Fortunately, Elizabeth did not need to wait long for Lydia to explain. Her sister raised her chin, eyes glittering meanly at Mr Darcy while she announced, "'Tis all a bet. All these grand gentlemen in London have made bets on you, to see whether you will marry him or his cousin." With a little sniff, she looked over her shoulder in the general direction of the party. "Obviously take the colonel. At least he knows what it is to smile and have a laugh now and then."

Elizabeth looked to Mr Darcy, standing just where she had kissed him only minutes earlier. He dropped his eyes to the pebbled path, saying nothing as she begged him silently to laugh or declare it all nonsense. But he did not.

"That is not true, Lydia," she said, hearing her uncertainty revealed in the tone of her voice. "It cannot be."

Mr Darcy said nothing.

"Yes, it is true. All sorts of bets, from what dear Wickham has told me," Lydia announced. "Thousands of pounds, Lizzy. Thousands ."

"Sir?" Elizabeth said, unable to look at the silent form of the man she had only just begun to love. "Is this true?"

He swallowed visibly and said what were, to Elizabeth's mind, the worst words that he could possibly say. "I can explain."

Amid bewildered distress, Elizabeth found herself bolting into the maze, abandoning Mr Darcy to Lydia. She no longer cared whether her sister insulted him or called him names; if Lydia kicked him square in the shins, it would be no less than he deserved. Hot tears blinded her and obscured her progress.

I can explain. No one could explain such an insult as this. He had made her ridiculous, and that she could not abide. Was that what all this was about? Some wager? Some sort of revenge against her, to humiliate her before everyone in both London and Meryton?

You need explain nothing , she had hissed in reply. You are just as I ever thought you were—arrogant, disdainful of the feelings of others—and now I may add that you are heinously manipulative as well. I was a fool to imagine you could be amiable, or good—but you are an excellent actor, I shall grant you that.

She careered about, twisting, turning, and weeping. I am an object of scorn and derision and wagers and silliness, an object, not a lady of worth . She was a fool to imagine Mr Darcy had changed. She had changed, yes, she had softened towards him, believed that he might be someone she could truly admire, but it turned out she was a fool. A leopard cannot change its spots, and neither can a Darcy, apparently.

And the colonel! He had behaved so oddly throughout, he must have served some purpose to the scheme, some sort of challenge or a test to her. She could not work out his exact purpose, but she had known something nefarious was afoot in his attentions.

At length she came to the centre of the maze and paused, swiping away the tears on her cheeks and in her eyes. She took several deep breaths and looked about her. She had not intended to come so far; Netherfield's maze was known throughout the county for being large and complex, built to emulate that in Hampton Court Palace, though Elizabeth knew not how near to the mark it came. To add to that, it was overgrown and thus to extricate herself from it would require more effort than she had wished to expend.

"And I have somehow lost my bonnet," she said ruefully, hoping rather than believing she might be able to retrace her steps and find it.

She trudged through the maze for quite some time, the twists and turns seeming alternately familiar and not. At last, feeling chilled and tired, she chose to shove through the hedge to escape, no longer caring about her appearance or her dignity. Why should she when Mr Darcy had made her a laughingstock? Might as well sink into the figure of ridicule he had made her.

The party had mostly broken up when at last she approached the clearing where it had been set up. The little orchestra was gone, and the servants were bustling about folding blankets, carrying the uneaten food back to the kitchen, and helping the remaining few guests finish their merriment. She saw none of her family and wondered, briefly, if they had simply decamped, sparing her no thought. Another tear leaked out at that self-pitying thought, and it almost made her laugh at herself.

A figure had approached her from one side but she paid him no mind until he said, "Miss Bennet. Well. This is a sight."

At least it is not Mr Darcy or the colonel, she thought with relief. Only Lord Saye. "Excuse me, my lord."

"What have you been doing?" he asked, his handsome face looking horrified. "There are sticks in your hair."

She raised one hand, feeling the leaves and small branches entwined in among her curls. "Yes, well, I…um, I got a bit turned about in the maze and decided to go through rather than find my way out."

"And that made you cry?"

"No, no, it was…" She dropped her hand and shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. If you will excuse me, sir."

She curtseyed and nearly walked off but stopped herself, hoping that the suddenness of her enquiry would cause him to be forthcoming. "Do you have money on this?"

He tilted his head, a benign smile on his lips like the very picture of innocence. "On what?"

She gave him what she hoped was a withering look. "On me . And whether I might marry Mr Darcy or…or your brother."

"Oh!" He grinned at her, perfectly unrepentant. "Yes, I do. Care to give me any hints as to your inclination?"

The easiness of his admission took her aback. "I despise them both, if you would know. I have already told Mr Darcy he is the last man in the world I would ever marry?—"

"Ouch!" his lordship interjected cheerfully.

"—and now your brother may join him there."

"Why?" He leant on his walking stick. "What have you against Richard?"

"Because he is a part of this," she said, her anger beginning to stoke itself again. "I could not make him out—he was so determined to put me off in Kent, and that was awkward enough—but then to come here and behave in such a…a peculiar fashion! Even more awkward. I hardly knew whether I should be seduced or stupefied."

"Seduced or stupefied! Miss Elizabeth, you are brilliant." Lord Saye chuckled. "I cannot wait to tease him with that. He thinks himself such a favourite of the ladies."

"Perhaps you will gratify my brilliance by helping me understand this scheme. Was it all some farce that would have ended with a broken engagement? The derision of my neighbours? None of it was in earnest, that much is certain," she declared, feeling righteous indignation surging through her.

Lord Saye seemed almost puzzled by her stance. "Why do you think so?"

"Because…" Elizabeth paused, drawing in a calming breath. "Because it was all so strange. The colonel was entirely different than he was in Kent. He came here with some tale of an estate that he seemingly cannot be bothered to go and look at. And you tell me—if this place is so near to Matlock, how has he gone thirty years without ever seeing it? When your own relation lived there? I hardly knew what to make of such a tale, or of the fact that he seems to be able to make his eyes twinkle on command."

Lord Saye coughed in a way that sounded like a laugh but said nothing.

"And then to discover all the wagers? So humiliating! I shall be the laughingstock of London Society!"

"Humiliating? Hardly," he scoffed. "Do you have any idea what is the worst fate that can befall a young woman in London?"

"Ruination?"

"Not even close."

She sighed, heavily and theatrically. "What then?"

"Oblivion. The greatest fear of anyone who arrives on the doorstep of Society is that no one knows your name or worse—that no one cares. It is excessively difficult to raise the interest of people whose first object is world-weariness, and who are surrounded by wealthy, beautiful, witty people all the time." He pointed at her. "Your name is already on everyone's lips. Everyone who is anyone is awaiting your choice with bated breath and they are mad to meet you."

"That cannot be true."

"But it is. The only person who really stands to lose face here is, well, the loser."

Elizabeth raised her eyes to the heavens again. His assurances were assuaging her anger, and she hated that. "But my reputation, my dignity?—"

"Are untouched." Lord Saye shrugged. "My dear girl, the betting books in the gentlemen's clubs are absolutely filled with wagers of all kinds. This one is only made more interesting because of the persons involved. Darcy does not make a habit of being a part of this sort of thing. He has never been much of a gambler."

Now it was her turn to give a haughty sniff. "No doubt Mr Darcy stands to gain a great deal of money in all this."

"Darcy stands to gain nothing. He did not bet. Too unsure of his own success, poor sod, no matter how much he tried to bluster at my brother. Why do you think we… Well, no. That is a story for another time."

"Why do I think you—what? That sounds like the very bit I should know."

"You have told me why you doubt my brother," he said smoothly, ignoring her, "but why Darcy?"

"Because a man does not change his character," she said firmly. A small prick from her conscience reminded her of her recent revelations to herself—that she had not understood his character, but she ignored it.

"Perhaps not his character, but he may change his customs," Lord Saye replied. "Darcy will always be given to some amount of pride, perhaps some tendency to self-centredness—but we all have our defects. It is the desire to overcome them that is truly remarkable, and that he is most certainly wanting to do. For you."

"If you mean to tell me that Mr Darcy came here with an earnest wish of winning my hand, then I shall say…" She trailed off, reason suddenly asserting itself. Anger at being tricked, blind anger, had overtaken her, so much so that she had not really thought about Mr Darcy's motives in all of this. Did she actually have reason to suspect it was his doing? It was not his sort of thing, not by half. Anger left her in a sickening rush, leaving dismay in its wake.

"He loves you and you love him," Lord Saye informed her. "Pray do not shake your head. I know I am right."

"What makes you think I am in love with Mr Darcy?"

Lord Saye frowned in thought but at length said, "Miss Bennet, you look untidy, and I prefer women with blonde hair. Moreover, I think your sisters are too young to be out."

She drew back, nose and brow wrinkled. "Thank you. I am sure I am well-pleased to take your strictures under advisement," she said sarcastically.

"Does that injure you? That I should think so?" He seemed strangely enthusiastic at the prospect.

"No. Perhaps vexed me a little."

"Did it injure you when my aunt was insufferable with her opinions? That had to cause some embarrassment. Richard said she was positively ghastly, even for her."

"I did not enjoy it but no, it did not injure me."

"Ha! See there!" He clapped and then pointed at her gleefully. "Thank you—my point is proved!"

"What point is that?"

"Darcy's opinions were more powerful because you cared what he thought." Lord Saye leant back, a satisfied smirk on his face and one hand on his hip. "If you did not have some feeling towards him, you would have felt just as you did when I insulted you. By the bye, I think you very pretty, perhaps even beautiful, when you are not out thrusting yourself through hedges."

"You are a madman," she said with a weak laugh.

"You would not be the first lady to say so," he agreed amiably. "But here is the material point. There is a game afoot, it is true, but it is not Darcy's game."

"But—"

"I assure you, he disliked it heartily. He would not involve himself in such a thing for money and certainly not for revenge. No, there is but one thing that would induce him to participate in such an escapade, and I daresay we all know what that is."

Love. Elizabeth dared not say it aloud, for suddenly she felt like crying, laughing, or perhaps vomiting. I did it again. She had, once again, gone off into a fury at Mr Darcy, believing the worst and knowing the least. Again, she had been blind, prejudiced, partial, and absurd. Again, she had thought the worst of him. Again, she had spoken in anger, her tongue unbridled and fierce. If anyone's character was unchangeable, it was hers.

"He really—" she said in a voice that emerged hoarse. She paused and cleared her throat. "He truly had no hand in the wagers?"

"It began between himself and Richard and, if I am honest, Richard rather goaded him into it. Said he could have you a million times over before you would ever look at Darcy."

"That was excessively cruel."

"But necessary . Pray do not think Richard undertook it lightly. Darcy was on the verge of leaving to go and propose to our cousin, such was his despair. We had to stop him."

"Propose to Miss de Bourgh?" Elizabeth exclaimed, but Lord Saye kept talking over her, speaking quickly. He does not wish me to stop and think about the fact that the colonel was being purposely goading, purposely cruel to Darcy. Why?

"Events thereafter spun beyond his control. Darcy had commissioned a carriage, and Richard said if he won, it was his, and then Alfie Hurst showed up and my friend Sir Frederick, who never looks away from a chance for easy money. Gentlemen do love to gamble—as do your own sisters, I might add."

"My sisters?"

"I was passing by that youngest one with Captain Carter earlier. Evidently there are some shoe roses up for grabs if someone can make you kiss Darcy."

Which I did! And now he will absolutely, positively despise me. There is no return from such as this. Once was a mistake. A second time is an unredeemable shade in my character.

"Now if you will excuse me, I must be off. Racing about the countryside myself in a manner most indecorous, if you must know. What you women do to us all!" He touched the brim of his hat and sauntered off.