Chapter 12

Elizabeth and Darcy met atop Oakham Mount again that next morning. Her face was flushed when she entered the house, which was only somewhat attributable to the exercise. After breakfast, she and Mary visited two tenants, and then returned to her room to prepare for their visitors that afternoon.

When she came downstairs, she was surprised to hear male voices in the sitting room. Standing outside the room for a moment, she listened to the voices inside before realising they belonged to the officers. "Do they ever work?" she muttered under her breath.

Bypassing that room for now, she entered her father's study. "Papa, the officers have called once again. My younger sisters need to do more than visit with these men. Truly, what do we know of them other than what they tell us? For all we know, they could be wastrels and rakes. Lydia and Kitty are far too young to be in company with these men so often."

"I thought you liked the officers and enjoyed their company," he replied. "Is not Mr. Wickham a particular favourite of yours?"

"He is not," Elizabeth stated. "Months ago, I reconsidered his words to me and realised how improper it was for him to share such personal information so early in our acquaintance. I told you this back in December. Additionally, I have spoken to Mr Darcy about him, and he confirmed that Mr. Wickham is the worst sort of man—exactly the kind my sisters need to be warned against. It is not as though any of these officers could afford to marry one of us. Mama would not care to have one of her daughters follow the drum because she was forced to marry a poor militia member. Not to mention the effect that would have on the rest of us should Kitty or Lydia get into trouble with their thoughtlessness."

Her father looked at her sharply, seeming to consider her words carefully. "Your opinions of both men have changed considerably. Is there something I should be aware of?"

Elizabeth flushed in anger. "Papa, this is nothing new. Just the other day, I informed you that Mr. Darcy was not what I first thought. A few days ago, in our sitting room, Mr. Wickham fled the house when he encountered Mr. Darcy. I have asked Mr. Darcy about his accusations, and he informed me Mr. Wickham initially refused the living and received compensation for it. He was only refused when he made the request a second time after having given it up. I cannot hold that against Mr Darcy, and he has proof to support his claims, unlike Mr Wickham. I am afraid I was foolish for ever believing his tale."

"Mr Wickham is a liar, or at least prone to convenient half-truths, but that does not make him a wastrel or rake," he countered.

"Mr Darcy said he holds a number of markers for debts Mr Wickham has left behind. He has been reluctant to make this public because of the connection to his own father," Elizabeth retorted.

He waved away the concerns. "It is a chance all shopkeepers take when they allow unknown persons credit. There is nothing I can do about it."

"That is not the point, since action was taken to prevent any of the militia members from amassing too much credit. Nonetheless, you are allowing these unknown persons into your home and around your impressionable young daughters. Lydia and Kitty would ruin all of us if they allowed liberties with one of these men or if there were even an accusation of such. Do you really think the respectability of our family should be on their shoulders alone?" Elizabeth protested.

"I will ban all officers from entering our home. Would that please you?"

"It would be a start, Papa, but that will not prevent my sisters from searching them out in Meryton. I have attempted to warn them, and it has helped somewhat, but they need to understand that officers would make poor husbands. In particular, they need to learn that being handsome is not the only requirement for a man to be an appropriate suitor," Elizabeth insisted.

"Then tell them," he retorted.

"I have, but my telling them will accomplish little as long as Mama is promoting the officers as potential husbands," Elizabeth insisted. "Now that Mr. Bingley has returned, perhaps Mama may be persuaded that my sisters should not act in such a way that would scare him off again."

"If Mr Bingley is frightened off by a couple or three silly girls, then he does not deserve Jane," her father replied with his usual sardonic wit. "Besides, it will all come to naught anyway. Both he and Mr. Darcy will grow bored when they do not get what they want from either of you."

Elizabeth could make no reply for a moment. "And if one of these silly sisters does succeed in ruining the rest of us, what then, Papa? Will Mama's five thousand pounds sustain us when we are made unmarriable because Lydia or Kitty runs away with an officer? Please, Papa, for once, try to think of what this unchecked behaviour might do to our family." That said, Elizabeth left the room, and attempting to hold back her tears, she ran straight into a man lurking in the hallway. She was sufficiently startled that she did not shut the door fully, and it remained slightly open behind her.

"Miss Elizabeth," came the smooth, oily voice of Mr. Wickham. "I had hoped to encounter you this afternoon. Your sisters told me you would likely be found in your father's book room."

"Please step back, Mr. Wickham, you are too close," she said to the man, not liking the predatory look in his eye.

"But Miss Elizabeth, we are friends, are we not?" he intimated, refusing to step back from her.

"We are not. I am not friends with people who lie to me," Elizabeth said clearly and loudly enough for her father to hear through the door. "How often did you insist you were not afraid of Mr Darcy? Yet the other day in our parlour, you gave every appearance of being afraid of that gentleman. In fact, when he mentioned his cousin, you quite literally fled our home in your desire to get away." She heard her father's steps approaching the door behind her as she spoke. At the same time, she heard Mrs Hill answering a knock at the front door and knew that help would arrive in moments.

Wickham heard the voices at the door at the same time as Elizabeth. He stepped closer, and she attempted to step back, though she had nowhere to go. "Get away from me," she said loudly, moving her hands up to his chest to push him away. They both turned to see who was entering, and on seeing Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Wickham grinned wickedly before grabbing Elizabeth's shoulders and dipping his head to kiss her.

Several things happened at once. Elizabeth raised her knee, and it connected with his groin. Darcy rushed forward and grabbed the back of Wickham's collar to drag him away, and Colonel Fitzwilliam stood with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Her father opened the door behind Elizabeth, causing her to lose her balance and nearly fall. He put up his arms in a reflexive move to stop her.

All three men were angry, but no one was more furious than Elizabeth. After regaining her balance, she approached Wickham and slapped him across the face, hard enough to leave a mark. "We are not friends, and whatever punishment you receive will not be nearly enough," she hissed. Turning toward the gentlemen who had just entered, she commanded, her voice betraying her unease, "Please escort this person away from this house."

Without words, Darcy shoved Wickham toward his cousin and indicated he should take charge of the rascal. The colonel grasped Wickham by the collar and pushed him toward the door, still caressing the hilt of his sword. Before she could react further, Darcy had Elizabeth in his arms. "Are you well, love?" he whispered. She did not speak but nodded, burying her face in his chest.

"I will ruin her and you both, Darcy," Wickham called. "I will tell everyone I had her first. No one will want anything to do with her or her sisters then."

Fitzwilliam poked Wickham in the back. "Not if I kill you before we arrive at the camp," he said dangerously. "Between your actions today and the debts my cousin holds, you will be in the gaol before the end of the day. Anything you say after that will just be noise since no one will believe you. And do not forget, I outrank you, so if you attempt to run from me, I have a justifiable reason to do to you exactly what I have wished to do since last summer. You and I are both in uniform, and you cannot refuse a command from a superior officer. You are finished, Wickham." Elizabeth believed it was clear from his voice and the look in his eye that the colonel would take any opportunity to run him through if Wickham provided him the merest provocation.

At that, Wickham looked genuinely afraid. "I will keep my mouth shut, I promise," he said in a quavering voice, his false bravado at an end.

Mr. Bingley had not spoken a word but was staring at Elizabeth in Darcy's arms. "I will … I will just go into the drawing room with the ladies, I believe. Darcy, I assume you and Mr. Bennet will want to speak of what has happened here. I will say nothing to anyone in there," he said haltingly.

Elizabeth still had her face buried in Darcy's chest when she heard her father address him. "Mr. Darcy, I think you should come into my study so we might speak. Elizabeth, you should join us." He turned and entered his room, leaving the couple in the hallway.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and attempted to steady herself. Darcy kept one arm wrapped around her waist, providing both support and comfort. She smiled gently at him before whispering, "I believe we must tell Papa about our understanding sooner than we intended. Not five minutes ago, I dissembled when I told him there was nothing between us. I was attempting to convince him of the need to do something about my younger sisters flirting with every officer in sight. I warned him of the potential for an officer to ruin us all, and not a minute later, I was proven correct." She let out a sob, and he drew her into his arms to calm her.

"Did he harm you, my dear?" he whispered against her hair. "He did not injure you, did he?"

"No," she replied, her voice muffled against his chest. "He frightened me. He was so close, and I asked him twice to step away. He saw you enter, and it was then that he attempted to kiss me. I raised my knee and struck him in a… sensitive area, and then you pulled him away before he could do more than touch my shoulders."

Their whispered conversation was interrupted. "Are you coming?" her father barked from inside his study.

Elizabeth entered the room on Darcy's arm. Her father pointedly looked at her hand on his arm, but she returned his look defiantly. "You told me not ten minutes ago that there was no understanding between you and Mr. Darcy, daughter, but your actions just now would seem to imply that was not the truth."

"You asked if there was an understanding you should be aware of," Elizabeth countered. "It was not my place to say anything at that moment. However,"—she paused and looked over at Darcy, and he nodded—"Mr. Darcy intended to speak to you when he arrived today to request your permission to marry me. We discovered that we loved each other, and I gladly accepted his proposal of marriage."

"Mr. Bennet, I intended to do this properly, but I am afraid I reacted to Mr. Wickham's actions toward your daughter rather forcefully," Darcy explained. "I … I love Elizabeth most dearly and seeing her being importuned by that cad affected me deeply. I have known him too long to trust him ever to do the decent thing and was worried for Elizabeth when I saw him standing so close to her. When he put his hands on her, I was incensed." He took a deep breath. "Mr. Bennet, I most humbly request your daughter's hand in marriage. I will care for her for the rest of my life and ensure she has everything she wants and needs. I have the marriage settlement already at Netherfield whenever you would like to look at it."

"You are assuming I will give my permission, sir."

"You will not?" Elizabeth and Darcy asked in unison, their voices showing their surprise.

"Elizabeth, you have always hated this man. Why would you suddenly agree to his proposal? Did he compromise you in any way?"

"No!" she cried. "He would never compromise me. I told you, I have come to care for him. I love him, and I want to be his wife." She looked at Darcy as she said this and noted his quick, indrawn breath at her declaration of love. "Yes, he offended me at our first meeting, but I have forgiven him. I agreed to marry him because I want to marry him, and I find myself rather thrilled at the prospect of being his wife."

"Because of what he has?" her father persisted.

"Papa! No! Of course not." Elizabeth fumed. "How could you believe that of me?"

Again, casting a look between the two, he stood straighter and said, "You reach your majority in October. You may marry him when you no longer need my consent, if you still want to at that time."

"I do not understand why you are refusing your consent, sir, and I cannot believe you truly think me so mercenary," Elizabeth said, tears filling her eyes.

He glared at both of them. "Elizabeth, leave us and allow me to speak to your suitor privately."

She stared at her father with the same defiant look before turning on her heel to leave. Before she did, she turned to Darcy and mouthed, "I love you."

Darcy smiled at her gently, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss and mouthing, "I love you, too," just before she shut the door.