A Pemberley Medley (A Pride & Prejudice Variation) (7 page)

Therefore she was prepared the following day when once again she came upon him in the grove. His presence there was confirmation enough of her suspicions, as there would be no reason for him to be in that same spot unless he was awaiting her. He again said little, but at one point seemed to suggest that on her future visits to Kent she would be staying at Rosings. Startled, she realized this was more serious than she had thought.

She chose her words with care. “Mr. Darcy,” she said slowly, “I wonder if I might ask your opinion on something.”

He placed his hand over her gloved one. “Certainly. I would be happy to be of use to you.”

She could feel the warmth of his hand through her glove. This was not proceeding as she had planned. “Suppose, sir, you had a sister whom you loved dearly.”

He looked at her in surprise. “That is not at all difficult to imagine, since I do have a such a sister.”

Emboldened, Elizabeth continued. “Suppose, then, that she met a gentleman who engaged her affections, and who appeared to return them. But then he disappeared without word, leaving everyone to suppose his friends had interfered with the match. Would you be inclined to think kindly toward those friends?”

His brow darkened, and Elizabeth feared she had gone too far in her accusation. But she would not allow his anger to intimidate her, so she stood her ground.

He spoke finally through clenched teeth, saying each word distinctly. “What did he tell you?”

Elizabeth shook her head in confusion. “He? The gentleman, or his friend?”

“You know perfectly well of whom I speak. I repeat, what did he tell you?”

“Indeed, sir, neither of them told me anything. It was merely an observation….”

“I must know. What did Wickham tell you?”

Elizabeth blinked. “Mr. Wickham? What has he to do with this?”

“Everything, as you well know! What did he say about my sister?”

She was beginning to feel frightened by his anger, and took a step away. “
Your
sister, sir? Why, nothing to speak of.”

She could see he was trying to calm himself. “Miss Bennet, I must insist you tell me. It is a matter of the utmost urgency.”

For a moment she almost took pity on his clear distress, but the illogical nature of the conversation stopped those natural feelings. “He spoke very little of her, only to say she was handsome and highly accomplished.”

“But what of his connection to her?”

“Why, nothing, except that she had been fond of him when she was a child, before she became proud like….” She realized just in time the danger of what she was about to say.

His mouth curled. “As a child, indeed. Why, then, did you raise this question to me, if he said nothing more to you?”

“This question? What question?”

“About my sister!”

Finally, comprehension dawned, though the matter of Mr. Wickham’s connection remained a mystery. “I was speaking of my own sister, Mr. Darcy, not yours.”

“
Your
sister?”

“Yes, my dear Jane, who is now not only heart-broken but also exposed to the world’s derision for disappointed hopes!” The thought of Jane’s distress renewed Elizabeth’s anger toward Mr. Darcy. “And if I am not mistaken, you were pleased by the outcome!”

His countenance changed as if she had slapped him. “I cannot deny it.”

His proud words removed the last vestiges of control from her temper. “I believe I have heard quite enough. Good day, Mr. Darcy.” She turned her back on him in what she hoped was an unmistakeable manner, then walked off without a backwards look. The nerve of the man, to admit straight out that he had opposed a match between Mr. Bingley and Jane! At least he could no longer be in doubt as to her own feelings toward him. She doubted he would trouble her again.

Darcy could not take his eyes from Elizabeth’s light figure until she vanished into the trees, but the disturbance of his mind took away his usual pleasure at the sight. How had their conversation gone awry so quickly? One moment he had been warmed with pleasure at the idea that she was seeking his advice, then a moment later …. He did not even wish to think of it.

Wickham. The cur had a malevolent talent for ruining happy moments in Darcy’s life. He half-wished he had not stopped Colonel Fitzwilliam from going after Wickham with a pistol at Ramsgate. What spiteful fate had set Wickham to cross paths with his Elizabeth?

Mention of Wickham always sent clouds of fury through Darcy’s mind, making it difficult to think clearly, but not to the degree that he had failed to notice Elizabeth’s anger at him. Painstakingly he tried to reconstruct the conversation in his head, hoping to understand why her attitude had changed so much. What had she said about her sister, that she was heart-broken? He dismissed that idea. Miss Bennet had been disappointed by the loss of a fine marital prospect like Bingley, no doubt, but her heart had not been touched. She had never shown signs of a particular regard for him.

But while Elizabeth might profess an opinion not her own, she was not the sort to lie. She must believe that her sister cared for Bingley, perhaps out of her own romantic notions. His anger softened a little at the thought, soon procuring forgiveness for her. But no wonder she was distressed, if she felt torn between her growing affection toward him and her loyalty to her sister.

He nodded slowly. That would explain a great deal.

Elizabeth put down her embroidery with a sigh and rose to her feet. What ill-luck was it that caused Mr. Darcy to come to call on her whenever she was alone? In any case, should he not be at Rosings for tea, along with the Mr. and Mrs. Collins? Elizabeth had pleaded a headache and stayed home, primarily to avoid the gentleman now standing before her.

He did not sit down, but instead paced back and forth across the floor. “I am sorry to hear you have been in ill-health,” he said. “May I hope that your headache is better now?”

“Tolerably so, thank you.” Perhaps she should have said it was much worse, and then he might go away.

But he seemed to have something else on his mind. He did not appear to be in good spirits; in fact, if anything she would have said he looked worried.

“Miss Bennet. I wish to apologize for my behaviour yesterday.” He spoke hurriedly, as if he wished to get the words out as quickly as possible.

The great Mr. Darcy lowering himself to apologize? Hardly likely. Elizabeth wondered what he was hoping to accomplish. Certainly he could no longer be maintaining any romantic intentions toward her.

“There is no need for apologies. It was a misunderstanding, nothing more.” She hoped he would go now.

He did not seem happy with her response. “I would also like to ask you to keep what I said about my sister in strictest confidence. I am sure you understand the importance of this.”

So he did want something from her. As if she would be likely to reveal something to the discredit of a young girl she did not even know! “You may count on me to reveal nothing, because that is precisely what you told me.”

“But about Mr. Wickham....”

“Mr. Darcy, I understand that you and Mr. Wickham have your disagreements, and that one of them apparently involved your sister, but I would prefer to remain outside them.”

“
Disagreements
? Is that what he called them?”

Elizabeth was quite exasperated by Darcy’s refusal to change the subject. “Difficult as it may be to believe, I do not recall every single word he ever spoke to me, either about his sister or about you, nor do I see any reason why I should tell you if I did.”

He fell silent, but the whiteness of his face spoke of his anger. His boots seemed to strike the worn rug with unnecessary force. She could see his struggle to keep control, but sympathized with him not at all. If he insisted on forcing the topic of Mr. Wickham on her, she was well within her rights to say what she did. It was just more proof of his pride and ill-temper.

Finally he burst out, “I cannot believe that you place your trust in such a man.”

“I have seen no reason not to.”

“He is a scoundrel. He has wasted his education, squandered his inheritance, left debts behind him, and attempted to take advantage of innocent young women. Is that enough reason for you?”

“Squandered his inheritance? He says you denied him his inheritance.” Anger had taken over from wisdom in choosing her words.

“That is nonsense. His inheritance was a living which he chose not to accept, and I paid him three thousand pounds in lieu of the preferment. Which he squandered, then had the audacity to apply to me for the living when it became vacant. You cannot blame me, I hope, for refusing.”

Elizabeth was taken aback. Their stories coincided, except for the portion regarding the payment. But which man to believe? Mr. Darcy had never seemed a dishonest man, despite his ill-temper, and what would it profit him to make up such a tale? But if he was telling the truth about that, should he also be believed about Mr. Wickham’s other supposed sins? She could not imagine that amiable gentleman behaving in the manner Mr. Darcy described, although it was true that he seemed rather free with his money, and had been all too ready to denounce Mr. Darcy on their first acquaintance.

“I cannot believe him so bad,” she said, more to herself than to Mr. Darcy.

Darcy’s mouth twisted. “I had hoped you would trust my word, but since you cannot, I urge you to appeal to Colonel Fitzwilliam for information, since he has the misfortune to know Wickham quite well, and can confirm all the particulars. Good day, Miss Bennet.” He slapped his hat on his head and strode toward the door, turning only once for a last, long look.

Elizabeth was still shaken when Charlotte returned. When asked what was the matter, she said, “I believe you were right about Mr. Darcy’s interest in me.”

Charlotte beamed. “What wonderful news! A brilliant match, indeed.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I fear not. I have thoroughly discouraged him. We have quarrelled twice now. He will not be back.”

“
Discouraged
him? Eliza, are you out of your mind? Think of the advantages of such a marriage!”

Elizabeth took Charlotte’s basket from her and set it on the table. “Dearest Charlotte, you know I have always wished to marry for affection. All the advantages in the world mean nothing to me next to his abominable pride and manners. I could never love such a man.”

Charlotte sank down in a chair and closed her eyes. “Sometimes I forget how young you are, Eliza. How can you look at Jane and still believe love is a good thing? Certainly, it can be wonderful for a brief moment, but more often it causes nothing but pain.” The bitterness in her voice could not be missed.

“Just because Mr. Bingley did not prove to be the gentleman we believed him to be….”

Charlotte shook his head. “Wait until you fall in love. You will learn there is nothing that can hurt you more. I would never wish to be in love again.”