21

The eighth of April marked Elizabeth’s majority, and Mrs. Taylor had helped Kitty plan an evening of revels at the parsonage. Since Elizabeth was to remain in Kent, the guests were many, all of whom were eager to further their acquaintance with her. Mr. Collins’ curate Mr. Thompson was in attendance with his loquacious spinster sister, Mr. Post brought his family, and the two Miss Baileys had come as keen to flirt with the curate as to celebrate that Elizabeth was to extend her visit in the area.

Charlotte Lucas had arrived that morning; she would stay the night and return to Meryton in the morning with Mr. Bennet so that they might attend Jane’s wedding the following week. She and Elizabeth passed a very happy morning and afternoon together, walking amongst the verdant scenery, and Elizabeth could not resist the urge to present Charlotte to Lady Catherine at tea time, if only so that her friend might later join her in jesting about the formidable dowager.

The large dinner Kitty and Mrs. Taylor had orchestrated, with help from Rosings’ cook, was to be an outdoor affair, for the weather had obliged them by being temperate and calm. Fifteen lively companions dined in the garden, but Captain Darcy was not one of them. Nor was he amongst the merry companions that returned indoors to play parlour games, laughing and drinking wine, toasting the guest of honour as they made merry. Elizabeth did her best to enjoy the celebration, knowing she ought to be grateful that so many new acquaintance from the village valued her, and after her expulsion from Longbourn it did indeed warm her heart to know how cherished she was in Kent.

But still Captain Darcy did not arrive. Elizabeth refused to let her growing disappointment show, but she could not fool those closest to her. Kitty and Charlotte wisely said nothing of her agitation, but Mr. Bennet was frequently cajoling her to fully enjoy the revels. “It has been an arduous task for us to allow you to win all the games, Lizzy, as distracted as you have been with your gaze fixed on the entrance. Is it not meant to be a diverting occasion indeed, reaching your twenty first year?”

“I am excessively diverted,” she assured him, turning to regard her friends with a smile as they gleefully embarrassed themselves in charades. Charlotte threw up her hands in frustration before once again pantomiming what looked to be rowing a boat, and then trailing her hands downward from her face as if to stroke a nonexistent beard, and at last Mr. Collins cried out, “Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner!” Elizabeth clapped her hands, but her heart twisted in her chest. Where was her beloved sailor?

The second hour of the party ebbed away, and finally Captain Darcy was announced. He strode directly to Elizabeth, a frenzied look about him, and he immediately requested a private audience with her. What ought to have sent a rush of exhilaration through her instead only filled Elizabeth with dread as she followed him out into the cool, crisp air of the evening.

The last glow of sunset was golden on the horizon, the dining tables had been cleared away, lanterns were being lit, and a quartet of musicians was setting up just beyond the garden for the dancing portion of the evening. Captain Darcy led her around the far side of the house, and Elizabeth could hardly speak for anticipation. She had thought he meant to wait until his mother’s arrival, until he went down to half-mourning, to ask her. Was he about to ask her?

But no, his behaviour was not that of a man on the precipice of a proposal. He appeared distraught and distracted, and only met her eyes when they reached the gate that led to the meadow. They passed through it and he stopped. “I must leave Rosings at once; even now preparations are underway.” He had blurted it out, his eyes pressed shut, and then began to look as if he regretted speaking so bluntly.

“What?” Elizabeth gaped at him. She had clung to some hope that the next thing to come out of her mouth would be an exultant yes!

“Forgive me,” he stammered. He shook his head as if to clear his mind, and took her hands in his. “What I ought to have said is, happy birthday, Elizabeth. I am pleased to see that so many people have come to celebrate with you, and I had hoped to be one of them.”

“Can you not stay? Whatever calls you away, surely you can depart in the morning.” She peered up at him, but he did not meet her gaze, and she wondered if she had gone too far, asked too much of him amidst some crisis, but Elizabeth could not let go of all that she had envisioned the evening might be. It was his presence, the unspoken romance that sparked between them, that was to make the festivities perfect, and she clung to the pretty picture she had painted in her mind.

“I can hardly spare the time it will take to explain myself,” he sighed, and finally turned to look at her. “But I had to speak to you, had to see you one last time.”

His last two words hit her like a blow to her chest. “I do not understand.”

“I received an express from Pemberley a couple hours ago. Last week I told you that my sister Georgiana was to travel to Norfolk with her friend Miss Taft.” He gave another heavy sigh, his countenance contorting with pain. “We have been quite deceived in Miss Taft’s character, for she agreed to assist Georgiana in an elopement, and only confessed her involvement after a variety of threats from her mother.”

“Good God,” Elizabeth cried, raising her hands to her face and steepling them there. “I would never have imagined your sister capable of such a thing, from how you have described her.”

He gave a solemn shake of his head. “Nor I, but I was away at sea for so long, perhaps I do not know her anymore. But it is very likely that she was worked on by that calloused cad who would prey upon her grief, and her trusting disposition. Mr. Wickham, of whom I have told you, took leave from his post five days ago. He did not tell my mother or brother of his intention to travel; for all his faults, he is a clever and cunning blackguard, and he knew that Caroline would be too occupied in her own interests to mention it to anybody who might suspect him of any mischief.”

“Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth gasped. “The vicar you think so ill of, whose depravities you concealed from your father? Oh dear – I think I understand. Not satisfied with his inheritance, he has ingratiated himself with your sister in the hopes of – I presume she has a large dowry?”

“Your perspicacity does you credit, Elizabeth. That is precisely what I fear, that he considers her thirty thousand pounds to be some recompense for not being bequeathed a better sum in November. My father was blind to Wickham’s faults and follies, even when I attempted to dissuade him from giving Wickham the living at Kympton. And now my poor sister is to pay the price.”

“And you mean to intercept them?”

“They must have left Norfolk together the day before yesterday, but I cannot think they will try for Gretna, else he would have absconded with her directly from Pemberley. To travel north, so near to Pemberley – I do not think he would attempt it, for certainly they would be caught before reaching Scotland. I believe they have gone instead to London, where discovering them will be more difficult. By the time they are found….”

His words died away, as if he could not bring himself to give voice to the outcome he feared. Elizabeth nodded her understanding. “It will be too late, and they will be forced to marry.”

“My mother wrote urging me to rendezvous with my brother at Darcy House in London. Marcus, who has never been as distressed by Wickham’s character as I ever was – well, I believe he feels his negligence now. He expressed some intention of fighting Wickham once he has found the cur.”

“Surely not,” Elizabeth cried. “Duelling is illegal!”

“And Marcus is a terrible shot,” Captain Darcy groused.

“I hope that does not mean you will take it upon yourself to….”

He pressed her hands in his once more. “No indeed! I should never jeopardise – I still have such hopes for future happiness. No, I will not fight Wickham, and hopefully I can prevent my brother from doing anything foolish, though I may allow Richard, who despises Wickham even more than I, to have the honours. I care only for my sister’s safety, and the preservation of her reputation, for she is but sixteen, and has not even come out into society. I know I can trust in your discretion, but if word should get out….”

“Can Miss Taft not be worked on? Surely she would not ruin her own friend.”

“If she has neither the wit nor virtue to dissuade her friend from such a scandalous elopement, I can hardly say what Miss Taft is or is not capable of. Perhaps she expects some bribe from Wickham, and may ask the same of my family in exchange for her silence.”

“How awful! And what a betrayal – your sister deserves better friends, and I am sure she will feel this keenly, whatever happens.”

Captain Darcy reached a hand up and stroked Elizabeth’s cheek. “You are so good, Elizabeth. That you could pity my sister with such compassion, such insight, is just what I love about you.”

Her heart leapt at the beautiful word, at last. Elizabeth laid a hand atop his. “I see the same in you; your dedication to what is right and good is what I love best about you.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Would that there were more people like us in this world. But first Miss Bingley and then my cousin Amelia, and now Miss Taft and George Wickham. We have allowed the wrong people to get close to us. You are the only woman in this world that I can trust completely, aside from my poor mother, who is as distraught as you might imagine. It is for her sake, and my sister’s, that I must leave you, though I hope you will trust in me. I feel myself bound to you as much in honour as inclination, Elizabeth. A lady such as those I have named might demand what I am not presently at liberty to offer, but you have been so respectful of my wish to mourn my father properly, and my desire for discretion these past weeks.”

“Of course, Fitzwilliam,” she replied. He had made free to use her Christian name, and for the very first time she did the same, relishing the feel of it on her lips even in the midst of her disappointment and despair.

He smiled a little at this, his lips curving upward as he searched her face. “Can you forgive me – would you consent to – I had hoped it would be soon…. Will you wait for me?”

“I will,” she said at once, tears welling in her eyes. “I promise it.”

“And I promise that I shall return for you, whether here in Kent, or at Longbourn, I will return for you, my Elizabeth.” He entwined his fingers through her own and brought his hands to his lips. “And now I must be off, before one or both of my siblings bring shame and disaster upon the family, and further misery upon my mother’s broken heart.”

He gave a bow as he began to release her hand, and had turned away from her when he stopped. He tightened his grasp on her hand and pulled her into him, his arms smoothly encircling her as he kissed her. Elizabeth returned his ardour, her hands moving up his broad shoulders to tangle in his dark, curly hair.

Every ounce of anguish evaporated in that instant as he drew her closer, deepening the kiss as his tongue lightly caressed her own. This was what she had longed for, as well as the promise he had made her; this moment was the culmination of everything she had felt in the autumn and grieved in the winter. She lost herself until he at last withdrew, letting out a low moan. “I must go, my beloved Elizabeth.”

“I will wait for you, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth watched him walk away, restraining her tears until she was certain he would not hear her. She wept long after he had disappeared in the falling darkness, until her father appeared at her side. He did not voice the question in his eyes, but drew her into an embrace as she sobbed onto his shoulder.