Chapter 11

Eleven

September 2

Parting from Darcy at the garden gate was becoming more difficult by the day. Elizabeth was being entirely ridiculous—she knew it herself—but it could not be helped. Saying farewell even for the hour or two they would spend apart was such sweet sorrow that it created an ache in her breast that would not be denied, though she laughed at herself for it.

Shaking her head at her own silliness while at the same time admiring the late blooms with much wistfulness, Elizabeth approached Longbourn in a reverie. It was broken by someone unexpectedly calling her name.

"Lizzy?"

Ahead of her, arm in arm, were her middle sisters. It warmed Elizabeth to see them becoming close of late and she felt that each could benefit from closer association with the other. Mary might encourage Kitty to deeper thinking, and Kitty might draw Mary out into society more frequently.

"Kitty, Mary, you startled me. What do you do here? I thought the pair of you would be at the instrument."

"We wished to speak to you," said Mary, darting a glance and a nod at Kitty.

Kitty replied silently with a nod of her own before clearing her throat. "Yes, about something important."

Though Elizabeth could not fathom what subject her sisters jointly wished to canvass with her, she could tell by the tight lines of their expressions that it was serious. "Of course. You may speak to me about anything."

Kitty breathed in deeply. "It is about Lydia."

Naturally. "What has she done now? You ought not to pay her any heed, whatever it was. She is feeling spiteful of late and has no care for the feelings of others." Elizabeth strongly suspected that Lydia's attitude sprang from a sense of envy, but that need not be said amongst the other Bennet sisters. They well understood Lydia's ways and character after sixteen years of bearing the brunt of them.

Mary merely rolled her eyes, an acknowledgment of Elizabeth's unnecessary observation. Kitty, though, pressed on with fretful fervour. "Yes, of course, but that is not what I mean. That is, I am speaking not of what she has done, but what she is planning to do. I do not know what it is, exactly, but she means to do whatever it is and I am sure it will be absolutely awful."

"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth's brow creased. Kitty's conjectures are as nonsensical as Lydia herself!

Kitty turned to Mary, who provided a more succinct explanation. "Apparently, Lydia is plotting some sort of calumny against you and Mr Darcy. We are unclear as to what, precisely, this entails, but we wish to put you on your guard."

It was Elizabeth's turn to roll her eyes; she accompanied it with a scoff. "I cannot imagine what she intends to do, but I am certain it will amount to nothing in the end."

"Lydia can be determined when she sets her mind to something," Kitty cautioned. "Do you recall that time Maria Lucas made some disparaging remark about one of Lydia's frocks? The very next evening Lydia spilt her glass of claret on Maria's favourite gown. She said it was an accident, but I know she did it deliberately."

Elizabeth was inclined to quip that Darcy would not be frightened away by a stain upon his trousers, but seeing Kitty's genuine concern stilled her tongue. "Even so, Lydia has no recourse in this instance. I promise to be careful, but there is nought she can do to cause any more misery than she already has."

"I hope you are right…"

"I am certain that I am, Kitty, but I thank you for the warning. Come, let us return inside where we might warm up with a cup of tea. It is growing chilly out here."

With her younger sisters in agreement, she began the march towards the house only to stop short by several yards. There, framed in the doorway, was Mr Wickham with his expression fixed in a sly aspect. His gaze was trained upon Elizabeth, particularly, and she felt an unpleasant shiver tickle up her spine.

"Good morning to you, sisters. I see you have been enjoying the lovely weather."

Kitty and Mary merely glowered at him in silent suspicion, so it was up to Elizabeth to respond with the social niceties. "Indeed, we have, sir. Now we are looking forward to a cup of tea. If you would excuse us."

Elizabeth shooed her sisters before her into the house, following closely on their heels. They were allowed to skirt round Mr Wickham, but Elizabeth was not so lucky. Before she could cross the threshold, her elbow was caught in his firm grasp and she was brought to a standstill.

"A moment, if you please, dear Lizzy." Wickham addressed her with the same sort of light amiability that used to characterise their interactions. Far from setting her at ease, which she supposed was his purpose, his pretended geniality only further unsettled her.

A glance beyond Wickham showed Elizabeth that her sisters yet lingered in the vestibule, watching their interaction. Emboldened by their support and the desire to shield them from whatever unpleasantness Wickham had in mind, she calmly replied, "Mary and Kitty have demanded my presence in the music room this morning, Mr Wickham. Perhaps we could speak later when we are all gathered for tea."

The grip on Elizabeth's arm tightened incrementally before loosening again. "I would much prefer to speak with you now, sister dear. I have something particular I wish to say to you and it is best done in private." He leant in close enough that his breath disturbed the curls spilling down her forehead. "Perhaps you might show me the hermitage I have heard so much about."

"Forgive me, I cannot accommodate you at the moment. I am sure Lydia will be happy to tour the gardens with you." She tugged at her arm, which Wickham relinquished easily. What else could he do when she might raise the alarm otherwise? "Do enjoy the lovely weather."

Elizabeth quickly stripped off her bonnet, gloves, and spencer and ushered Mary and Kitty down the hall towards the music room. On the way, she fully intended to pay her father's book-room a visit, now that she had a sneaking suspicion what Wickham—presumably on Lydia's behalf—was up to.

Darcy had long held the ungentlemanly ambition of punching Wickham squarely in his pretty nose, but never had his restraint been tested as severely as it was presently. If the libertine did not cease his attentions to Elizabeth promptly, Darcy could not be held responsible for the action he had oft dreamt of taking.

There he was, the smug bounder, seated as close to Elizabeth as a separate chair would allow and bestowing her with every ounce of his oily charm. If he was not calling her ‘my dear sister, Lizzy' with disgusting presumption, he was winking at her as if they shared some naughty secret. He had even showed the galling nerve to touch her once with a light, supposedly accidental brush of his fingertips against her knee, but a growl from Darcy—seated next to Elizabeth on the settee—had prevented him from attempting that much again. A good thing, too, else Wickham might not have left the room with the same number of limbs he could claim upon entering it.

Darcy's only consolation was that Elizabeth was no longer swayed by Wickham. If the puckered expression on her lovely face was any indication, she was nothing less than disgusted with him. Darcy shared in her revulsion; not only was she full aware of Wickham's past misdeeds, the reprobate was married to her own sister and flirting with Elizabeth who, herself, was betrothed elsewhere. On top of that, this coquetry was occurring before the very eyes of her intended, to say nothing of the rest of her family! Darcy had not believed himself capable of being astonished by Wickham's audacity any longer, but clearly he had underestimated his former friend's capacity for outrageous behaviour.

Though Elizabeth herself parried Wickham's attempts at flattery, his wife showed no concern for what was occurring on the other side of the parlour from herself, where she sat ostensibly speaking to her mother about wedding plans. Darcy had believed at first that she had yet to notice—Lydia Wickham had never struck him as a particularly observant young lady prior to this vexing day—but at least twice he had caught her making surreptitious hand signals at her husband, ones which appeared to be designed to encourage him. What the devil are they about?

If their plan was to needle Darcy, it was working with spectacular effect. Rarely, if ever, had he been this close to losing his temper in a room full of people. However, he had a sense that something deeper was afoot. He could not, as yet, determine exactly what, but he was put on his guard all the same.

A sharp yelp followed by a pained hiss and bumbling clatter tore Darcy's ponderous gaze from Lydia to Wickham. He had leapt from his seat and sent it skittering behind him, his panicked attention drawn to the wet splotch staining his breeches. Darcy could appreciate Wickham's distress, given the sensitive location of what could only be scalding hot tea seeping into tender skin.

"Oh, do forgive my clumsiness, Mr Wickham!" cried Elizabeth, doing a creditable job of sounding horrified by her blunder.

Wickham's grimace was pained as he said, "Think nothing of it, dear sister." He then hastily excused himself and waddled in an undignified manner out into the hall, whereupon a loud and filthy curse burst from him as if it could be contained no longer.

Mrs Bennet and Lydia both jumped up and followed Wickham from the room while the rest of them watched in a mixture of alarm and disquiet. Bingley and Miss Bennet appeared concerned, Miss Mary astonished, and Miss Catherine chewed mercilessly upon her lower lip. With a quick whisper from one to the other, the latter pair also made a swift exit.

For his part, Darcy was torn between dark amusement at Wickham receiving his just deserts, anger at himself for leaving Elizabeth to defend her own honour, and curiosity as to what, exactly, had just occurred. Most importantly, he needed to know, "Are you well, dearest?"

"Perfectly, I thank you."

"What happened?"

Elizabeth leant close enough to whisper, "Mr Wickham's hand did not know its place and so I was required to remind him of it."

Darcy was on his feet the next instant. "That unconscionable—! I shall call him out for daring to impose himself upon you in such a manner!"

A tug on Darcy's hand from Elizabeth was enough to force him to resume his seat. She cast Miss Bennet a swift look and a shake of her head before addressing him. "There is no need for that, Fitzwilliam. The matter has been handled and I doubt Mr Wickham will make the same presumption twice. Please, let us not make more of this than necessary."

Taking care to lower his voice, Darcy countered, "He has no right to touch you and I cannot allow this to stand while saying nothing!"

"No, he does not, and yes, you shall. There is no profit in confronting him at this juncture other than to cause a family rift and further scandal. He and Lydia shall be off to Newcastle soon and we shall not ever have to be in company with him again. I understand your frustration, but do not allow it to overrule your reason."

Inhaling a deep, calming breath, Darcy allowed that Elizabeth was correct. Much as he longed—ached, really—to teach Wickham a lesson he would not soon forget, it was more important to maintain family harmony. Calling out one's future brother-in-law would not be conducive to this lofty goal, nor was it a legal redress to an insult. More important, the Bennets of Longbourn could not withstand yet another disgrace so soon after the last. He would contain himself.

Bringing Elizabeth's hand to his lips, Darcy kissed her fingers. "You are perfectly right, my love. I promise to do nothing untoward, however tempted I may be. That said, we should at least alert your father to the situation." Though I suppose Mr Bennet will continue to do nothing to curb the Wickhams.

Elizabeth patted him on the hand. "I went to him this morning, but he was out tending to some tenant complaint. I suspect Mary and Kitty have gone to see whether he has returned."

"Why did you seek out your father?"

Elizabeth's eyes darted about the room before she declared, "Come, I should like to show you something out in the garden."

"Elizabeth."

"I shall explain all once we have achieved a modicum of privacy."

Of late, an invitation to stroll in the garden with Elizabeth meant he was in for a sampling of a few of her earthly delights. On this occasion, Darcy rather suspected that he could anticipate something quite different. "I am at your disposal."

As the day had grown warm, they paused only to don their hats before escaping outdoors into the familiar landscape about Longbourn. In the same fashion as Pemberley, it was allowed to flourish largely as nature had intended it, albeit on a smaller scale. There was some slight artifice in the rose gardens and the artfully rendered ruins off to one side of the lawn, but otherwise it was a small Eden. He thought it an appropriate setting for achieving the paradise which was Elizabeth's love.

Once they were away from the house and anyone who might be listening at its windows, Elizabeth breathed a deep sigh and broached the subject at hand. "You ought to know that Lydia and Wickham are up to some sort of scheme to mortify us."

"Yes, I had gathered as much what with that vulgar display in your mother's parlour. If Wickham's sudden forfeiture of self-preservation had not alerted me, your sister's seeming nonchalance at her husband's flirtation would have done it. There is not a woman alive who would stand for that sort of humiliation and keep her countenance the way she did unless she were part of the plot. Even then, it still astonishes me that she would be party to it."

"I wish I were more surprised, but with all she has done lately…" Elizabeth emitted another sigh. "Honestly, I am more weary than shocked."

"Tell me what happened this morning."

Before Elizabeth related the incident in question, she reminded him of his promise to rein in any desire for vengeance. It was a good thing, too, for Darcy experienced such a surge of violent rage that he immediately revisited the notion of calling the cad out. The presumption of approaching Elizabeth in that manner…

"You said your father has not yet been informed of this?" Not that Mr Bennet could claim much proficiency in curtailing his wife or daughter's worst impulses, but he had been firm with Lydia in London and unhappy about allowing her to visit Longbourn at all, proving his indolence had its limits. Surely, with this latest outrageous breach of conduct, he could be convinced to send the Wickhams on their way early.

Elizabeth shook her head. "I went to his book-room myself, but discovered him absent. According to Mr Hill, there was some to-do amongst the tenants regarding the harvest this morning and he was required to attend them. He has not returned as yet, as far as I am aware."

"When he does, I should like to have a word with him myself."

Halting in place, Elizabeth turned to Darcy and placed her palm to his chest in a staying motion. "I beg you would not. Papa's pride has already been deeply wounded by being forced to turn to you for assistance and I believe having you bring this matter to him would only provoke his vexation further. I shall tell him myself as soon as I am able."

Darcy tightened his jaw against the compelling urge to inform Elizabeth that her father's pride ought to be wounded for events unfolding as they had, but he would not wish to harm her sensibilities for all the world. Besides, he had learnt much from his previous experience of insulting her family; she was not unaware of their flaws, but was in fact deeply conscious of them, and did not appreciate having them flung in her face. "Fine, but I must insist upon your making this disclosure without delay."

Elizabeth promised him faithfully and they resumed their walk at a strolling pace.

"I am afraid that I must further insist that you avoid being alone with Wickham at all costs," said Darcy. "He has never been known to force himself upon a lady, but then he is rarely met with one who has rebuffed his advances so…emphatically."

A chagrined titter burst from Elizabeth at Darcy's euphemistic reference to scalding Wickham's nether parts with her tea. He chuckled himself before sobering and concluding his speech.

"I know not what he will do in order to achieve his aims of cuckolding me and shaming you, but I urge you to exercise great caution. Much as it pains me, I feel we ought to put off our morning walks until they are gone off to Newcastle."

"No! Absolutely not."

"Elizabeth—"

"No, I will not hear of it. I shall not allow my life to be dictated any further by either Mr Wickham or Lydia. It is the only amount of privacy we are afforded and I am of no mind to give it up. Besides, you shall be with me and so there is nothing to fear from either of them."

"I am honoured that you value our time together so much, but I cannot risk your safety."

"I have no intention of risking my safety, I am proposing a slight alteration to our usual arrangements. Instead of each of us walking a mile or so and meeting in between estates, you might simply ride over to Longbourn and stable your horse here before we set off on our constitutional. It is not much different from what we do now, except we will forgo any pretence of you postponing your visit until after breakfast."

Darcy tugged at the knot in his cravat which suddenly felt too tight. "But what will your family think of my arriving so early?"

Fixing him with a look which was at once incredulous and amused, Elizabeth teased, "They will think it a good thing you no longer consider them so stupid as to believe we were not already cavorting about the countryside without proper chaperon. Really, Fitzwilliam, it is no great secret that you meet me on my walks."

"They know?"

"Of course they know! My mother might not be considered a great intellect, but it does not take one to realise that engaged couples often seek a bit of solitude, or that I am often away from the house for above two hours when previously I would return within one. She has even taken to suggesting a few flattering accoutrements to my walking gowns to better please you."

He paused, storing away that piece of intrigue for future questioning. "Your father does not object?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "He is usually only just woken when I arrive home, but I am sure it has not escaped his notice. As we are safely engaged, and Papa has never been one to exert his authority when indifference will do, I doubt it bothers him overmuch. All of this is beside the point, however. Will you meet me here at Longbourn?"

"You know I could never deny you anything, especially when my own interests align with yours. I shall meet you at the gate at our usual time. Do not venture further without me."

"To that I shall happily agree."