Chapter Fourteen

November 19, 1811

Meryton

Darcy

Dear Georgiana,

I hope this letter finds you well. Did you receive the new music I sent? I never imagined I would find such a treasure in a small market town. I hope it is suitably challenging, yet not too complex, and that you will favor me with a performance when next we meet.

My courtship continues apace. This afternoon I am to accompany Bingley to Meryton, where we will meet with a few locals and browse the shops. Mayhap I will find another treasure for you. We mean to take refreshment in a tearoom after our excursion. It is a quaint little place with adequate pastries and cakes to accompany their fine blends of tea.

This morning, Bingley and I attended Netherfield's steward as he inspected tenant homes. There are several in need of repair, and though the financial burden will fall to Netherfield's owner, Bingley wished to observe how to handle such matters so that he can attempt it in the future, should he wish to pursue purchasing an estate.

Bingley's sisters have settled in nicely. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst plan to return to Surrey for the festive season, so the house will feel emptier without them. Hurst is an entertaining gentleman, though his habits and pursuits are rarely to my taste.

Have I told you that there is a militia regiment encamped in Meryton for the winter? Bingley, Hurst, and I dined with the officers a few weeks ago. Colonel Forster is an amiable man, and it has been a pleasure to meet him at social events.

I hope to hear from you soon, dearest sister.

Yours, etc.

FD

Darcy signed his letter and sighed in disgust. It was trite, filled with nothing of substance. He supposed he could blame the need for circumspection in his letters, but it was more so that he simply did not know what to say to Georgiana. He had not received a letter from her yet; as such, he was unsure what to write since there were neither questions from her to reply to, nor any recent activities of hers for him to discuss.

He sanded and sealed the letter, placing it with the stack Jasper would post today. With nothing left to occupy his time until he and Bingley departed for Meryton, Darcy opted to read a book.

The volume failed to hold his attention, and eventually, he wandered from his room and downstairs to the parlor. Voices from within caught his ear; he recognized them as belonging to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.

Darcy paused outside the door, considering whether to go in. He usually avoided any room where the ladies gathered. Miss Bingley abhorred his presence, and it was better if he avoided them whenever possible.

"I wish Charles would ask Mr. Darcy to leave," Miss Bingley exclaimed. "No one wants him here, and I hate feeling uncomfortable in my own home."

Darcy rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall outside the door. He might as well hear what they had to say; forewarned is forearmed and all that.

"Quite so," Mrs. Hurst replied. "I have tried warning our brother that a connection to him will prove detrimental, but he will not hear me."

Bingley has said nothing of the sort to me, Darcy mused. Is Mrs. Hurst prevaricating to placate her sister?

"He lurks about, coming and going at all hours," Miss Bingley sniffed. "My maid says she sees him leaving the house at dawn! Can you imagine? What can he be doing?"

Mr. Hurst cut in. "Some gentlemen prefer early hours, Caroline. Mr. Darcy is probably riding through the countryside."

"Gallivanting and doing who knows what!" Miss Bingley snapped.

"You are far too suspicious," Mr. Hurst quipped. "Darcy is a good man, and I do not mind knowing him better."

"What has your dear mama to say about that?" Miss Bingley spoke in honeyed words. "She would be appalled to know you are keeping company with a penniless libertine. Shall I write to inform her?"

Mr. Hurst laughed. "Do what you will. I am not afraid of you or her. Come, Louisa, I wish for your company."

Darcy moved away from the door and ducked into the library to avoid being seen. He had heard nothing from Miss Bingley that he did not know, but Hurst's defense was unexpected. It pleased him that there was someone else in the house besides Bingley who did not hate or fear him, and he resolved to cultivate a better understanding of the gentleman. Mr. Hurst's habits and tastes indeed differed from his own, just as he had told Georgiana, but there was no harm in exploring their acquaintance to find common ground, especially since he now knew that Hurst was not against him as were his wife and sister-in-law.

Bingley found him a short while later. His business was concluded, they hurried to summon their valets to dress for their ride to Meryton.

~

Elizabeth

At Longbourn, Elizabeth and Jane announced their intention to walk into Meryton. Kitty and Lydia were quick to demand that they accompany their elder sisters and decided that they would all walk to Meryton after the midday meal. Mary opted to remain behind, convincing an enthusiastic Mr. Collins to stay with her and discuss a book she had been reading. The departing sisters left the blushing couple in the drawing room under the gleeful eye of Mrs. Bennet, each relieved in their own way to be free for a time from the man's constant stream of speech.

The walk was brisk, with Jane and Elizabeth trailing behind a giggling Kitty and Lydia. From the moment the regiment had arrived, they had filled their heads with romantic fantasies about marrying a soldier in a dashing red coat. They each had their favorites, and though Elizabeth had tried to discourage their interest, they remained undeterred.

"Denny!" Lydia shouted as they approached the market town square. She grabbed Kitty's arm and ran toward the officer, who was standing with another man in a blue coat.

Jane and Lizzy hurried to catch their sisters, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes at their lack of maturity.

"Who is this with you, Denny?" Lydia asked in a demanding voice.

"Miss Lydia, Miss Kitty, what a pleasure to see you this morning," Captain Denny said cordially. "May I introduce you to my friend, Mr. George Wickham?"

Elizabeth barely maintained control of her countenance as she regarded the newcomer. Could this man be the same Mr. Wickham of whom Fitzwilliam had spoken?

"I am delighted to meet you," Mr. Wickham said gallantly, bowing low. Kitty and Lydia giggled merrily.

"Are you joining the regiment, then?" Lydia asked. "Though you look dashing in your blue coat, you would be far more so dressed in a red one."

"Lydia," Jane said in a warning voice.

Elizabeth watched the newcomer's face closely, keeping her own expression neutral. She noticed the moment he saw the two horses approaching. Following his gaze discreetly, she observed Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley walking their mounts toward them. Glancing back at Mr. Wickham, she saw the smug look and the mocking tip of his hat directed at her beau. Mr. Darcy turned his horse and rode away at a gallop.

So, it was the same Wickham. He was watching her now, and she adopted an air of curiosity, hoping she had not appeared too discomposed for him to notice.

Once Captain Denny excused himself and Mr. Wickham went to meet with the colonel of the regiment, she and Jane drew their younger sisters away.

They walked back to Longbourn, with Kitty and Lydia once again bounding ahead.

Jane turned to Lizzy. "What came over Mr. Darcy?" she asked. "He left without greeting you—or me, for that matter. Mr. Bingley rode after him!"

"The gentleman—Mr. Wickham—I know the name from Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth quickly relayed all she knew.

"Could it be?" Jane asked when she finished her recital.

"Yes," Lizzy replied. "I saw the moment they noticed each other. Darcy was furious, and Mr. Wickham appeared amused by his reaction. I do not have a good feeling about his presence in Meryton."

Jane, of course, had a reasonable explanation for his presence. "He is joining the regiment. Colonel Forster will ensure he will be well-regulated."

"Having a commanding officer does not guarantee good behavior, my dear Jane," Elizabeth replied thoughtfully. "Besides, he could have joined any regiment in England. What are the chances that he secured a commission in this one?"

Jane murmured something unintelligible and let the subject drop. As they neared their home, Elizabeth quickened her steps, hoping that Darcy had traveled there after his abrupt departure.

When Longbourn came into view, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Darcy and Bingley's horses secured to a post outside the house. Darcy emerged from the shade behind his horse and approached, his friend following close behind.

"I just handed your mother an invitation to my ball," Bingley said. "Will you now favor me with a walk, Miss Bennet? I wish to speak with you."

"Of course," Jane replied. "Lizzy, will you not accompany us as chaperone? And you, Mr. Darcy, if you wish."

Clever Jane! Ever so cautious and thoughtful.

"I would be glad to be of service to my friend," Mr. Darcy replied politely. The group departed, following a path they knew was removed from habitation, thus limiting their risk of encountering people or being overheard.

Once safely away, Darcy pulled Elizabeth to the side so that Bingley and Jane could speak in private.

"That was him, was it not?" Elizabeth asked breathlessly.

Surprising her, Darcy immediately drew her close, his embrace desperate and tight. "Yes," he acknowledged, clearly shaken by what had occurred. "What is he doing here? He cannot be serious about joining the regiment. Wickham hates rules and will chafe under the command of any man but himself."

"Should we suspect he is here for you?" Elizabeth inquired, curiosity evident in her voice.

"If he is the one responsible for my misery this past year, then yes, I believe so," Darcy replied grimly. "He needs no other motivation than revenge. Despite his failed elopement with Georgiana, he will not cease in his efforts to utterly destroy my life."

"Have you heard from her?" Elizabeth wondered. Darcy spoke of Georgiana daily, always concerned that she had yet to write to him.

"My aunt writes that Georgiana reads my letters immediately upon receiving them, and that the more recent ones have started to revive her spirit," he said.

"What have you been saying to her?" Elizabeth asked, though she could guess.

"I have not mentioned your name to her, but I have spoken of our courtship at length," he replied. "I was not too specific, as there is always a chance that a disloyal servant could pass information to whoever is behind this."

"That possibility is worth exploring," Elizabeth mused. "What are we to do about Mr. Wickham?"

He drew the arm she held closer, pulling her nearer to him and entwining his fingers with hers. "You must always be on your guard, Elizabeth. He will spew lies coated in the truth, using words just sweet enough that you cannot detect his poison. Wickham has fooled far more worldly creatures than you, and many of them were as clever, too."

"I will be cautious, Fitzwilliam," she promised.

"And now, may I take this opportunity to solicit your hand for a set at the ball?" Darcy asked. "I had hoped to request the first, last, or supper set, but with Wickham in the vicinity, I fear that would be foolhardy."

"Shall we perhaps dance the third, then?" Elizabeth suggested. "Mayhap we can convince Jane to dance with you for the supper set, and I can dance with Bingley, thus ensuring we can sit near each other for the meal."

"That is brilliant," Darcy said, grinning broadly.

"You did remark on my intelligence just moments ago. Is my brilliance so surprising?" He gratified her with a hearty laugh at her tease, and they hastened off to speak with Jane and Bingley. The request was made, and both were happy to assist their dearest friends.

They returned to Longbourn as the sun was sinking in the sky, and though it was still some time before sunset, the air grew chill, making Elizabeth shiver. Darcy bid her a polite farewell, his warmth carefully concealed beneath a veneer of propriety. She experienced a brief moment of jealousy toward Jane, watching the open affection Bingley could display. Chastising herself inwardly for her folly, she reminded herself of the necessity of secrecy.

She glanced at the sky as Darcy mounted his horse.

"It looks like rain," she said. "I fear we shall not meet tomorrow."

"If not, our next meeting will be all the sweeter," he said earnestly. "Farewell, Miss Elizabeth."

Jane and Elizabeth watched their suitors gallop away, and resignedly, went into the house. If it rained, as it often did this time of year, they would be confined within for several days.

~

Darcy

Darcy and Bingley left their horses to the care of a stableboy, then entered the manor through a side door. Neither man desired to encounter a certain female resident and immediately sought privacy in their respective chambers.

The encounter in Meryton left Darcy unsteady, filled with anger and despair. Wickham. Why can you not leave me in peace?

A letter to Colonel Fitzwilliam could put an end to the miscreant's machinations. Whatever purpose had brought Wickham to Meryton could not bode well for Darcy.

Jasper was smiling when Darcy entered the room. His valet was always serious, and the sight of such an expression on his face was enough to make Darcy pause. Had the world gone mad that afternoon?

"The post, sir," Jasper said, handing a stack of letters to him. Darcy took them absently and froze when he noticed the handwriting on the top missive. Georgiana! He could scarcely breathe from anticipation, and after Jasper hastily helped him remove his greatcoat, he settled before the fire to open the long-awaited letter. Maybe that day would not be so terrible after all.

~

Elizabeth

The rain held off the next day, for which Elizabeth was grateful. She and Jane went on their daily morning walk with the gentlemen, Sally accompanying them as usual. Elizabeth had gifted the girl her old cloak, which had been forgotten in the back of her wardrobe for far longer than she cared to admit. Sally looked warm and snug as they walked. Elizabeth was glad to have aided her faithful maid.

Darcy greeted her enthusiastically, he and Bingley having arrived ahead of the ladies. He was waving sheets of paper at her, and Elizabeth wondered what had him so excited.

"She has written!" he cried happily. "I received her letter yesterday and have yet to pen a reply."

Elizabeth grinned broadly. "Miss Darcy has replied at last! Oh, I am so glad! I have yet to meet her, and I already feel a kinship with her."

"Here. Read." He shoved the letter into her hands, and she glanced at his eager expression.

"This is private. Surely you do not wish…"

"There is nothing written that should be kept secret," he assured her. "Besides, some of it is for you."

Elizabeth nodded and looked down at the paper in her hand. She straightened them and began to read.

Dear Brother,

Derbyshire is bitterly cold already, and I wonder if this winter will be worse than the last. My aunt and uncle have declared that nothing can stir them from their estate until the spring.

Will you be coming to Matlock for Christmas? Last year was very agreeable with just the two of us, but the presence of others whom I love is always a blessing.

I know not what to make of your most recent letter. You speak of a lady whom you are courting but will not give me her name. I understand from our aunt why it must be so, and I promise I shall keep my letters safely hidden away to protect you and this unknown woman. But that does not mean I like all the secrecy. I pray that it all comes to an end soon.

Please let your lady read the enclosed note if it pleases you.

All my love,

Georgiana Darcy

Elizabeth looked to the next page. It was addressed to her, in a manner of speaking, and she read eagerly.

Dear Madam,

My name is Miss Georgiana Darcy. I beg that you will forgive my forwardness in writing to you, for we have yet to be introduced. My brother has doubtlessly told you of his sister, and I am she. I understand it may be some time before we might be formally introduced, and so I write to you with the offer of friendship. If you have a mind to, pray include a note to me in my brother's next letter. I would be much obliged to hear from you.

Yours, etc.,

Georgiana Darcy

Elizabeth looked up into Darcy's beaming face. "It is not much," he said, "and certainly nothing as long as she usually writes, but it has been months since she has written to me herself. I penned her a letter just yesterday; if I am fortunate, I will receive another from her in short order."

"Will you include a message from me in your next?"

Darcy's smile dimmed. "I will, as long as it does not jeopardize this." He gestured back and forth between the two of them.

"I shall be as ambiguous as you," she promised. "None will know who wrote it."

Darcy kissed her hand, his lips lingering a moment longer than ever before. Elizabeth handed Georgiana's letter back to him. Grinning, he accepted it, folded it neatly, and placed it in his breast pocket with a final, thoughtful pat. She had never seen him so relaxed. With contented smiles, they all departed soon thereafter, eager for their morning meal.

Later that morning, a note arrived from Mrs. Phillips, inviting the Bennet sisters to take tea with her that afternoon. Lydia and Kitty were delighted to learn from the note that the officers had also received an invitation.

Mr. Collins and Mary attended tea as well; Mary was eager to introduce Mr. Collins to their aunt, and he was keen to meet more of his cousin's family. Elizabeth observed that he was anxious to please, which she thought was a favorable trait.

Aunt Phillips's parlor was noticeably full, given its modest size, and officers were everywhere. Lydia and Kitty were soon surrounded by an admiring throng of redcoats, which Lizzy was certain pleased them greatly.

She glanced around the room, looking for a place to sit. Elizabeth felt unequal to banal conversation and idle chatter, so she settled herself in a comfortable chair on the edge of the gathering, content to watch the other guests milling about.

Mr. Wickham found her there and bowed over her hand, smiling charmingly. She might have been taken with his handsome countenance had she not known from Mr. Darcy that the man possessed so many terrible qualities.

"Miss Elizabeth, I believe," he said politely.

"You remembered my name," she acknowledged in a light voice. "Quite the feat when one has a plethora of sisters."

He flashed her another grin. "I never forget such a lovely face," Mr. Wickham said gallantly. "Especially one as unique and charming as your own."

Elizabeth gagged inwardly but hid her reaction behind a smile. "What a compliment! I thank you. I see you are as good as your word and have joined the militia." She gestured to his red coat—pristine with glistening buttons, freshly polished.

"Ah, yes," the new lieutenant replied. "This commission is a boon I could never have imagined, and I am blessed to have secured my position. I recently found myself in dire straits, having been cast aside by ones I once called friends, and this appointment has saved me from destitution."

Elizabeth fought not to roll her eyes at the blatant falsehoods. Darcy was right: Wickham spoke just enough of the truth to mask his lies. "I am sorry that you have been so mistreated," Elizabeth said, hoping the pity in her voice sounded genuine. The man was a practiced deceiver. If she was not careful, he would see through her bland words.

"I thank you," Wickham nodded. He cleared his throat and tugged on his coat to straighten it. "Tell me, how long has Mr. Darcy been in the area?" He fiddled with his cuffs, fingering the embroidery as if he were nervous.

"Oh, some months now," Elizabeth shrugged. "He stays with a friend; Mr. Bingley of Netherfield Park."

"And is he well received?"

"Tolerably so," Elizabeth said cautiously. "He has been polite and civil to all he speaks with and, if nothing else, has added variety to our little society." She winced internally at her half-truth. Darcy was well-liked in the neighborhood for his willingness to grant everyone a bit of his attention. No one had found any fault with him beyond his desire to remain unattached to any young lady.

Mr. Wickham's brow creased briefly before his cheerful fa?ade returned.

"I imagine it is convenient for him to be staying with his friend," he said slowly.

"How do you mean, sir?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"I have heard a rumor that he intends to marry Miss Bingley," Wickham said collusively.

She wanted to laugh in his face. Miss Bingley detested Mr. Darcy and had no qualms about making her opinion known to all and sundry. "How very fascinating," Elizabeth said indifferently. She struggled to put more enthusiasm and interest into her voice as she posed her next question. "How came you by such delicious gossip?"

"I am in the happy position of knowing Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy better than almost any other living soul," Mr. Wickham said proudly, drawing himself up to his full height. "We were raised together on his estate. My father was his father's steward, and old Mr. Darcy was godfather to me."

Every word is the truth. How novel. "What a coincidence!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She already knew all this from her conversations with Darcy and braced herself for the lies that were about to spew forth. "What a pleasure it must have been to encounter your old friend here in Meryton, of all places!"

Wickham fidgeted with the gold braid on his sleeves again, clearly uncomfortable. "Well," he said slowly, "I admit that yesterday's meeting was less than cordial. Mr. Darcy has wronged me greatly, you see, and he avoids my presence, as it reminds him of his fault in the matter."

"Oh?" Elizabeth pressed. Here it comes, she thought. Let the lies flow forth!

Mr. Wickham affected an air of misery, his shoulders rounding as if dejected. "You see, my godfather favored me excessively, and in his will, he bequeathed me a living that was within his preferment. When the living fell vacant, Darcy gave it to someone else."

Truly, the man could have had a career on the stage at Drury Lane, rather than become a soldier! "How dreadful!" Elizabeth cried in mock anger. "He ought to be publicly disgraced!" Real anger began to build in her core, causing her to breathe deeply, lending credibility to her performance and hopefully convincing the lying scoundrel that her sentiments were genuine.

"No, I could not," Wickham said regretfully. "Until I can forget the father, I cannot expose the son. I shall make my own way in the world."

The contradiction in his words was readily apparent to Elizabeth, who remained alert for any lies. Had he not just ‘exposed' Mr. Darcy's supposed sins to her? "Have you not been able to find another living?" Elizabeth asked impulsively. She knew she was in dangerous waters, but she wished to see what he would say.

Naturally, being the gifted liar he was, Mr. Wickham had a ready answer. "My godfather passed before I completed my education," he lamented. "My allowance was rescinded as soon as he was interred, so I could not finish my time at seminary."

Elizabeth knew from Darcy that Mr. Wickham had received a gentleman's education at university, but she doubted the veracity of his other claims. She made a sympathetic noise nonetheless and shared a commiserating glance with him. It was remarkably convenient that he had an excuse prepared for his lack of ordination.

"Lizzy!" Lydia shouted from across the room, startling both her and the lieutenant. "You cannot keep Mr. Wickham all to yourself the entire afternoon. It is not fair! Sir, come speak with me instead. I am far more fun."

"I am certain you are correct," Mr. Wickham said to Lydia, his eyes raking over her. Elizabeth frowned at the double entendre in his words. She did not like the way his eyes glinted as he appraised her younger sister, his gaze lingering on Lydia's bosom. The fichu her sister wore when they left the house seemed to have mysteriously vanished.

"I shall take tea with you, Miss Lydia, for a time, and then I must depart," he continued. "I have a duty that must be fulfilled and cannot be delayed."

"Oh, that is unfortunate," Lydia whined. "I had hoped to keep you to myself!"

"Perhaps another time," he said smoothly. "I have heard the officers are invited to a ball at Netherfield Park. Might I inquire if you have any dances remaining, or have they all been snatched up?"

Lydia giggled. "My last set is still free," she said coyly.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and ceased listening to Lydia banter with Mr. Wickham. The pair soon moved away, leaving her to ponder the information the silver-tongued officer had just given her.

She knew from Darcy the truth of the matter; in the weeks since revealing the whole of his sister's tale, Mr. Darcy had spoken more of Wickham, detailing his dissolute habits and the trouble he had caused since they were boys. Now Elizabeth had witnessed his artful manipulations. The blackguard had cleverly laced the truth with lies, and had things been different, Elizabeth might have believed him, so smooth were his words. Poisonous words coated in honey, indeed, she thought bitterly. Darcy had been right to warn her. She could detect the deception only because she had been prepared. How easy it would be to fall prey to the awful man when one was unsuspecting.

The sky was dull and gray when the Bennet sisters, accompanied by Mr. Collins, departed for home. Having walked, Elizabeth now regretted not asking for the carriage. They hurried, glancing frequently at the sky, praying they would reach Longbourn before the rain soaked them through.

Fortunately, the rain began just as they entered the vestibule. Mrs. Hill and Sally met them, taking their overgarments and expressing relief that they had not been caught in the downpour.

Elizabeth spent the remainder of the afternoon writing down Mr. Wickham's words so that she could discuss them with Darcy when they next met. If the deluge outside was any indication, it would be days before she saw him again, and she did not wish to forget any detail of the time at Aunt Phillips's.

~

The rain confined them indoors for four days. Unable even to attend services that Sunday, Elizabeth grew irritated by the forced confinement. Walking in the cold and snow was one thing, but to venture out in a cold rain was foolhardy. She had no intention of becoming ill and missing the Netherfield Ball the following Tuesday.

When the sun finally emerged Monday morning, Elizabeth leaped for joy. She roused Jane, and they donned their outerwear, hastening to meet Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley at Oakham Mount.

"Can you be sure they will even be there?" Jane huffed at Elizabeth's side as they climbed the hill. Sally trailed behind them at a much slower pace. The maid seemed a little put out by the cold, so Elizabeth had lent her a muff and gloves in exchange for chaperoning them.

"They will come," Elizabeth insisted. "If they have missed us even half as much as we have missed them, they will meet us there."

Jane brightened at that, and to their pleasure, the gentlemen awaited them.

"I told you so," Elizabeth said cheekily. Jane greeted Mr. Bingley with pleasure, and he tenderly kissed the back of her hand.

Mr. Darcy likewise greeted Elizabeth with a kiss on the back of her hand and gently caressed her cheek.

"It has been an age," he murmured. "Blast this rain and its infernal efforts to keep us apart."

"I thought it would never end," Elizabeth replied, smiling up at him in pleasure.

"It is good for Bingley that it did," Darcy observed. "The roads will have time to dry out before the ball tomorrow."

"That is fortuitous. But now, I must tell you of my meeting with Mr. Wickham…"

Once Darcy recovered from his displeasure at the thought of Elizabeth engaged in conversation with Wickham, she told him all she remembered about the encounter. Darcy sighed in exasperation.

"I believe he meant to have me spread the tale," Elizabeth surmised. "He shall be very annoyed when he discovers he ought to have told Lydia if he wanted it repeated in company."

Darcy laughed bitterly. "He could still do so. That he wishes to ruin my name here, just as he has in London, is clear. I am surprised that he did not repeat the gossip from Town to you."

"He might have, had my younger sister not interrupted," Elizabeth postulated. "I suppose we must be glad that he has not yet done so."

"Yes," Darcy replied. "I suppose we must."