I have so much nervous energy for this book, I am CLEANING MY OFFICE! Send good vibes. Send them all 🙂Â
XOXOX Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 20- If Mr. Darcy Dared
Upon entering her father’s study, Elizabeth wasted no time in taking Fitzwilliam’s hands as a sign of her support. Mr. Bennet turned away as the young couple searched each other’s eyes, tension filling the room. Giving himself employment adjusting papers on his desk, Mr. Bennet also removed books to return them to his bookshelf. Silence reigned until finally, Mr. Darcy spoke.
“I must leave tomorrow,” he began, a lump forming in his throat.
Elizabeth’s eyes glistened with tears. She had resolved herself to a more extended engagement than her elder sister, but she had never considered the possibility of being separated from Mr. Darcy for any length of time. “I understand. If the gossip has reached here, it’s sure to continue to spread. You must go to your sister. “
“I wish it were not so. I hate, HATE… that man!” Fitzwilliam’s hands shook as rage began to overtake his body and Elizabeth clasped his hands even tighter. At this Mr. Bennet cleared his throat, and attracted their focuses to remind them they were not entirely alone.
“Why don’t you sit down and tell us more about the whole story. Perhaps if we understand the truth, we might take stronger steps in preventing the lies.” Mr. Bennet offered Mr. Darcy a drink, and after his acceptance poured just a fraction into another glass for Elizabeth.
Finally, he settled down at his desk and waited for Mr. Darcy to speak. Instead, Fitzwilliam gulped down the offered beverage in one swallow. He turned away from Elizabeth and her father to look at the fireplace. The coals had dwindled down as the fire had not been stoked in some time. Picking up the poker, he helped himself to the exercise as he finally began his side of the story.
“My mother died while I was in school, not long after the birth of Georgiana. And so my sister grew up with a doting father who as fate would have it, also left her all too soon. From the time she was seven-years-old, I’ve been her appointed guardian, along with my cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Where the two of us might have indulged her more so than other parents, we have supplied her with the best tutors and education available to a young woman that we could find,” Mr. Darcy explained. Then he paused to replace the poker with the other tools for the fireplace, satisfied that he had agitated the fire enough for one night. Suddenly, Mr. Darcy turned around spying expressions of sympathy on Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth’s faces. Swallowing, he closed his eyes and continued.
“This summer, Georgiana expressed a desire to visit Ramsgate. We hired a companion, a woman who came with the most excellent references, and for a time, Richard was with them until his duties called him away. I was to join her at the end of the summer once my work at Pemberley finished. There was only a brief period of perhaps three weeks where Georgiana enjoyed the seaside with her companion, Mrs. Younge. But she had somehow worked with George Wickham, and through her companion’s encouragement and Wickham’s charms, Georgiana became infatuated. Armed with the idea of marrying a favorite of her father’s in the romantic notion of elevating a pauper son to a higher status . . . they nearly eloped.” Mr. Darcy’s voice cracked as he said the final words.
Elizabeth gasped in shock as Mr. Darcy continued to relate how they were but days from running away to Gretna Green when he happened to arrive early. Overcome with guilt, Georgiana had confessed all to him. Wickham ran away, Mrs. Younge was sacked, and Georgiana was placed in London with a Mrs. Annesley, the eldest daughter of a longtime tenant at Pemberley who had been widowed and childless.
“As much as it pains me to leave Georgiana in London, I had to for her own good. And I may have used the skills of an informant so that when Wickham resurfaced and joined the militia, and Mr. Bingley needed an estate to lease to learn about management, this area solved both of my aims. I suggested he look here once I knew the movements of the same regiment that Mr. Wickham joined as an officer. How he paid for the commission, I do not know.” Mr. Darcy accepted another pour from Mr. Bennet, drinking it the same as before.
“But if Wickham spoke against my sister or continued his charlatan ways, I wished to be there to see that justice found him,” Fitzwilliam said, with a tone of finality, gazing beyond Elizabeth at some point in the dark window pane.
Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair. He stared up at the coffered ceiling, deep in thought.
“I cannot imagine how distressed your sister must have felt after such an ordeal.” Elizabeth walked towards her Mr. Darcy to offer him comfort. “I understand now why you would not have brought her with you to Netherfield Park, especially if you expected to see Mr. Wickham here. She is fortunate to have you as a brother.” When she finished, he shrugged off the compliment paid.
“I was the fool that allowed her to be alone with a companion at too young an age. I should have recognized the danger she would be in, a young heiress enjoying the seaside. But I won’t make the same mistake again.” Mr. Darcy said, his tone harsh. Other than Richard, he had not had to confess this particular shortcoming to anyone else of his acquaintance.
“You must go to London; that much is clear. We will do our part here to keep an eye on Mr. Wickham and see what intelligence can be had,” Mr. Bennet said, shaking his head as he could find no other solution.
“Papa, I wish to go to London with Mr. Darcy—” Elizabeth began, but her father interrupted her.
“Out of the question.”
“But Papa!” Elizabeth tried once more, but Mr. Bennet held up his hand.
“Though I can appreciate how you feel an obligation to help Mr. Darcy and his sister, do not forget about your own sister. I cannot allow you to miss Jane’s wedding and you forget that your reputation hangs by the slimmest threads of decency,” Mr. Bennet said as Elizabeth hung her head.
She could not have known the conversation the men held in the dining room, but Denny’s loud mouth had provided plenty of reminder for the senior Bennet man.
“If, however, Mr. Darcy’s business keeps him in London beyond your sister’s wedding, I will not force you to remain at Longbourn for the Christmas holidays, Elizabeth if you can achieve such transportation with your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.” Mr. Bennet finished as he rose from his desk. Elizabeth looked up as she allowed her tears to fall freely. She hastily wiped them away as her father left them alone in his study with a wink.
From the moment the door closed, Elizabeth wasted no time to wrap her arms around Mr. Darcy’s torso while the man embraced her in equal measure. She tilted her chin up, and they shared a kiss, one that was forever their only means of comfort with such a short period of time and a severe lack of privacy.
“My darling, I am so sorry to have to leave you,” Mr. Darcy confessed, receiving another passionate kiss from his Lizzy in response.
When she broke away, she reached up with her bare hand to trace the lines of worry on his face.
“We shall have a lifetime together, Fitzwilliam. A lifetime. I do not know your sister, but I can only imagine she is young and very reliant on her brother for security. She should hear the news of the gossip from you and not read about it in a morning paper,” Elizabeth finished, bringing a new concern to Mr. Darcy.
“Surely, not this far out from London, the Times would not…” He trailed off as Elizabeth shook her head.
“You don’t read the society column do you?” she asked.
“Not if I am not required. The editors only use initials anyway so it’s unlikely that any would know such gossip from here,” Mr. Darcy said, and Elizabeth twisted her lips in annoyance. Why men assumed information did not travel like wildfire through a network of women, she would never know.
“’A country ball in Hertfordshire where an FD most passionately compromised an EB in front of a gaggle of witnesses. No word had been mentioned as to a formal engagement between the two, but most readers will recognize FD as a bachelor from Derbyshire, known for turning down more invitations than he keeps. Perhaps now we know the reason as he keeps his mistress somewhere near the village of Meryton,’” Elizabeth recited from memory the scrap of newspaper from yesterday morning that she kept hidden in her trunk.
Darcy reached out for Elizabeth to hold her even closer, “Why did you not tell me? Has your father read it?” he asked, and Elizabeth shook her head.
“My father doesn’t read that page either, but I am certain that my Aunt Phillips and others in town have done so. I fear the worst for your sister, and so you must go to London. I shall join you as soon as I can,” Elizabeth said, though it broke her heart to send him away.
Fitzwilliam leaned down to kiss Elizabeth’s lips once more as she pressed her body against his and snaked her arms up around his neck to touch the small curls that brushed his collar. As someone made a great show of turning the door handle and speaking in the hall, they quickly broke apart as Mr. Bennet entered the study.
Mr. Darcy pressed a kiss against Elizabeth’s knuckle, looking intently into her eyes without faltering. “I do not deserve you, madam. I promise that once we are married, I shall work every day to earn your esteem.”
Elizabeth blushed and looked down as her father spoke.
“Yes, yes, the eternal pain of two lovers apart. But rest easy Lizzy; it’s not like Mr. Darcy is going off to war.” Mr. Bennet chuckled at his jest as Mr. Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm.
“
No, Papa, by your own admission, he’s leaving to face something much worse: the parlors and tearooms of London’s finest,” she said over her shoulder as they joined the depressed party in the entryway where final farewells for the evening could be made.
Chapter 21 - If Mr. Darcy Dared
Having left Netherfield Park at the break of dawn, Fitzwilliam Darcy arrived by carriage at his London home in the early afternoon. Shrugging off the greetings of his housekeeper, Mrs. Coates, and promising her to discuss household matters before evening, Mr. Darcy followed the sound of tinkling piano music up the stairs to the second-floor music room.
When he walked into the room, Georgiana immediately ceased playing and stood from the piano to greet her brother with an embrace.
“I’ve been waiting all day to see you!” she exclaimed.
Fitzwilliam held her tighter, suddenly feeling the overwhelming emotion of failure that he was not able to protect her from his mistakes as a guardian. He was so overcome, that the words he wished to say caught in his throat, though at first Georgiana did not even notice.
“Mrs. Annesley has been encouraging me to play with more dynamics, exaggerating the pianos and fortissimos when I play my duets. She says that pieces of music are like a conversation, two people talking to one another back and forth. Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana asked as she looked up.
It was unusual for him to embrace her for so long and Georgiana had to physically push to be released.
“Oh dear, something dreadful has happened?! Is it your friend, Miss Bennet?” she asked.
“No,” he managed quietly, shaking his head. Fitzwilliam marched over to the window, brushing aside the sheer fabric. Below, he spotted a familiar red coat strolling up the front walk. His note had reached Richard; soon there would be no avoiding the unfortunate discussion.
“I’m afraid to say, Georgiana, that our worst fears have come true. Despite my efforts, Mr. Wickham has not kept his counsel to himself.” Darcy sprang forward in case he had to catch Georgiana, but the young woman was made of sterner stuff than fainting ladies and faked upsets.
“That is, unfortunate,” Georgiana Darcy said firmly, slowly walking back to her piano.
They were joined by Richard, who equally greeted Georgiana, but did not receive the same hero’s welcome as her brother just moments before.
Richard looked concerned. “Dear Poppet,” he used the pet name he held for her since she was born, “Why the long face? Has your brother been mean to you already?” Richard asked, throwing a sidelong glance at his cousin. But Georgiana frowned, and shook her head, breathing rapidly through her nose so that she would not cry.
“Mr. Wickham –” she started, and Richard immediately began to spout off an epithet of curse words, then an immediate apology to Georgiana that he had behaved thus.
“And what of me?” Georgiana asked. “The entire debacle is my fault. Had I not been so stupid . . .” she began to angrily collect her sheet music from the top of the piano.
Almost in unison, Darcy and Richard consoled Georgiana to explain the previous summer was not her fault. That they, as guardians, had egregiously erred in leaving her so exposed.
“I am afraid to say that it was I who was naĂŻve, Sister. If it had not been Mr. Wickham, I can assure you, your fortune would have attracted possibly a more unscrupulous man that may not have waited for your consent before whisking you off,” Mr. Darcy said.
At such a sobering possibility, Georgiana set her music down and took a seat on the bench. She stilled in a state of numbness as she considered her brother’s words.
“Blast all!” Richard shouted, looking around the room for a sideboard but there was none. “We can argue blame and fault until the King goes mad again. The real question is what is to be done now that the cowardly codfish has flapped his lips?”
Darcy gripped the back of his neck with his hand and massaged the tense muscles just below his hairline. The fatigue of travel and stress of the moment weighed heavily upon him. Georgiana looked at the two men and suddenly appeared very upset.
“Have I ruined your wedding to Miss Bennet?” she exclaimed.
“No,” Darcy said just as Richard yelled out, “Wedding? What wedding?”
Georgiana laughed in spite of her concern as now Richard approached her brother in a state of high agitation.
“You said nothing to me about a wedding. Pray, who is the unfortunate lass you have tricked into having your poor soul?” Richard teased his cousin worth a hundred times his paltry salary. In his experience, while wealth might give Fitzwilliam the pick of any lady in his acquaintance, keeping such a woman happy would require skills he wasn’t sure his cousin possessed.
“Richard,” Darcy warned, looking over at his younger sister. Receiving a nod from his cousin, that further discussion between the gentlemen would have to wait until later, Fitzwilliam walked over to Georgiana to offer his hand. She accepted, and he led her over to the window.
“See below? We are residents of one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in all of London. It takes generations to achieve our status, and the lies of a lowly soldier in some militia will not tarnish the Darcy name. You have my word,” Fitzwilliam said, in all seriousness. His sister embraced him once more but begged to be excused.
“If what you say is true, perhaps I should write a letter to Miss Elizabeth and thank her for sending you my way. Such a letter would continue our lives in a manner as though he did not exist, yes?” Georgiana asked thoughtfully, impressing both of her guardians.
“I believe that is a very wise idea. Wherever did you learn such social machinations, Poppet?” Richard joined the small grouping of family and winked at his fairer cousin.
Georgiana smiled. “Why, Mrs. Annesley, of course. She’s taught me all about the condescension I must pay in my position, especially after your letters, Brother.”
As soon as Georgiana quit the room, Richard began to follow after her.
“Where are you going?” Darcy asked.
Over his shoulder, Richard called, “To your study, where the brandy lives. And you can tell me all about what happened in the five weeks you’ve been with that dolt Bingley.”
Chapter 22 - If Mr. Darcy Dared
After Mr. Darcy left the surrounding neighborhood, Elizabeth Bennet became the shadow of her sister, Jane. Anywhere Jane went with their mother, from the modiste to the Byngs and Longs and Phillipses, Elizabeth put on a brave face and followed. Therefore, on the Tuesday before Jane was to marry Mr. Bingley in the Meryton Church, she attended the final fitting for her sister’s gown that would be delivered on Saturday.
Yet the Bennet sisters were not the only young women celebrating marital bliss. Charlotte Lucas was also present with her mother, Lady Lucas, for Charlotte’s first consult on the gown for her nuptials with Mr. Collins in January.
“I shall be right with you, ladies.” Mrs. Thompson, the owner of the small dress shop, greeted the two Bennet sisters. As Elizabeth and Jane found places on the overstuffed maroon sofa they had sat upon many times in their lifetimes while one sister or another was measured, a young maid offered them refreshments.
“It’s so lovely to see you, Lady Lucas. Lizzy and I were ecstatic to hear Charlotte’s news. We shall have to call tomorrow for a visit,” Jane said, looking at her sister for approval. Since Mr. Darcy had left, Jane had taken it to be her chief duty to raise her sister Elizabeth out of her melancholy. A visit to Lizzy’s closest friend was sure to be a recipe for joy.
“Oh, I’m afraid we have plans tomorrow,” Lady Lucas said, comparing three samples of lace trims bundled in her lap.
“Then we shall call on Saturday. We can even be sure to bring along Kitty or Lydia so that Miss Maria also has company,” Elizabeth offered. Lady Lucas pursed her lips and shook her head.
“I believe that will be impossible. Charlotte! Charlotte!” Lady Lucas rose with a trim of lace in her hands. “Give Mrs. Thompson this pretty design.” Lady Lucas flung the yard of trim over the dressing screen. “I believe it would look stunning along your collar, dear.”
Bewildered, Elizabeth looked at Jane who shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps if Mr. Darcy had been in town, Elizabeth might have regulated her emotions with more control. But as he was away in London, Elizabeth Bennet found it unconscionable that such long friends of the family as the Lucases would slight her because of the gossip surrounding Mr. Darcy’s sister. Elizabeth gracefully rose from the well-sprung sofa and glided over to Lady Lucas.
“I am not certain what you have heard, but I can assure your ladyship the stories Mr. Wickham has peddled around hold no semblance to the truth. I am shocked that you would dismiss my sister and me over such petty gossip,” Elizabeth hoped to address the breach directly and repair the bridge of friendship. Sometimes the Lucases could be a bit too stuffy for their own good, as Sir Lucas was only recently knighted.
“Lizzy…” Jane started but stopped her warning at that. Lady Lucas adopted an expression of abject shock at such cheek but answered with a firm response.
“I care not for whatever might be said about Mr. Darcy’s sister.”
Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows, hearing Charlotte sigh on the other side of the screen.
“Is this about Mr. Collins? Has he somehow wished to sever our connection?” Elizabeth asked.
Lady Lucas crossed her arms and looked around for any sign of Mrs. Bennet. While it was true the Lucases held a title, their family could not claim the generations of history the Bennets possessed. With Mrs. Bennet not around, however, she felt no qualms at finally putting the wayward Bennet daughter in her place. “I received a letter of regret from Miss Caroline Bingley for dinner last week. I had planned a grand fete on Wednesday evening at Lucas Lodge to celebrate Charlotte’s triumph before Mr. Collins had to leave for Kent.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks began to burn as she realized no one in her family had been invited to dine. She suspected more and more her weasel of a cousin was to blame for all of this. Likely he claimed it to be a grand idea of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, to exclude the Bennets so he would not raise hopes of charity after Mr. Bennet’s demise.
“I do not grasp why you are sharing a dinner we were not invited to attend,” Lizzy said, cooly.
But Lady Lucas was not finished.
“I’m certain you are aware, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst left for London on Tuesday. So imagine my surprise when your sisters Lydia and Kitty visited on Thursday. One or both of them were sure to tell my innocent daughter, Maria, that you and Jane had visited Netherfield Park on Wednesday all afternoon without your mother or any other married chaperone.” Lady Lucas glared at Elizabeth Bennet as Charlotte and Mrs. Thompson appeared from behind the dressing screen. Charlotte looked positively matronly with that thick lace pinned along her collar and her gown a drab green, cut from a calico Elizabeth recognized as being from two seasons ago as she had a frock made in it that winter.
Turning to her sister Jane, who could offer no argument, Elizabeth panicked. Ringing in her ears pushed her anxiety to the very edge, and all of the negativity keeping her from marrying Mr. Darcy pricked her heart. She finally fixed her eyes on a very smug Lady Lucas and allowed her tongue to run wild.
“I’m sure in marriages of mere convenience it is not often a couple might wish to enjoy time in each other’s company before their wedding. But as my sister and I marry for love, there is no other we would gladly spend our time with than our future husbands.” Elizabeth could not even look at Charlotte as she had just insulted her friend’s marriage to her cousin as a means of securing her future.
“Lizzy…” Jane said softly, but Elizabeth turned her ire upon her sister.
“No, Jane, you are to wed on Monday, and I am to wait three more months. It is no wonder Mr. Darcy had to go back to London. The gossip mongers in our neighborhood are the absolute worst!” Elizabeth spat as she rushed out of the shop and left Jane to her final alteration alone.
Gasping for breath, as her chest felt extraordinarily tight, Elizabeth clutched a pole that held up the awning over the walkway. For a moment she could only heave in sobs as she imagined every respectable family in the county to have been told the story of Jane and Elizabeth Bennet spending an unchaperoned afternoon at Netherfield Park. Between her rages of shame, Elizabeth felt further anger at her sisters. Why could Lydia and Kitty not keep the family business within the four walls of Longbourn!
“Miss Elizabeth, you appear distressed. May I be of service?” The familiar voice of Captain Carter startled Elizabeth from her shame. She wiped her eyes before speaking to the frequent visitor of her home.
“Good afternoon, Captain Carter. Forgive me, I believe my senses have merely run away with me. Pray, what brings you to the village in the middle of the day?” Elizabeth asked as the Bennet carriage had brought the girls only with the distinct knowledge of the regiment to be drilling for most of the day at camp. Therefore, their errands could be run safely to avoid Mr. Wickham at all costs.
“Just a bit of discipline, I’m afraid. Colonel Forster is at your Uncle’s house, and I needed his assistance in regards to a wayward lieutenant,” Captain Carter explained.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she realized Captain Carter could speak of no other but Mr. Wickham. She had just dropped Lydia and Kitty off at her Aunt Phillips’s house! Using her lean legs to practically jog a brisk pace, Captain Carter struggled to follow Miss Elizabeth as she clambered down the wooden boards to the end of Main Street where the house of Philips stood. Pulling the bell eagerly, Elizabeth was met by the one housemaid her aunt and uncle employed. The young girl merely bowed her head as Elizabeth rushed inside. But her instincts had proven correct.
Sitting upon the sofa with Mr. Wickham between them, Kitty and Lydia had engaged in a fit of giggles over some such nonsense with the soldier. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and stamped her foot, drawing the attention of her younger sisters who paused for a moment in their revelry before breaking into another fit of laughter at the poor scolding by their older sister.
“Captain Carter?” Elizabeth asked as she sensed the Captain behind her.
“Yes ma’am,” the excellent Captain responded.
“Would you kindly call my family’s carriage and see to it that my two sisters board it,” Elizabeth demanded.
Captain Carter bowed as Elizabeth stalked across the parlor to turn the door handle to her uncle’s office where he most often met with clients. Her presence abruptly broke the conversation between Colonel Forster and her uncle, but Elizabeth offered no apologies before closing the door behind her.
“Lizzy? You know the Colonel here. What seems to be the trouble that you have ah,” Uncle Phillips offered the Colonel an expression of chagrin, “that you have stormed in here without even knocking?” Uncle Phillips asked, his voice becoming terser with each syllable.
Elizabeth put her hands on her hips and stood defiantly before both men. “I just removed my sisters from an unsupervised company with that man! I am here to ask what is to be done about him?” Elizabeth scolded in a young imitation of her mother’s strongest rebuke.
The Colonel and her uncle exchanged confused stares before her uncle began.
“I’m afraid, Elizabeth, that apart from poor taste in judgment, Mr. Wickham is a commissioned officer in the —shire militia.”
“That should not matter. I am not speaking about the gossip. I am certain by now Mr. Wickham has racked up an enormous amount of debt. Have you inquired as to how much he owes and will his quarter payment even cover such expenses?” Elizabeth asked.
The two men shuffled nervously before her, with Colonel Forster speaking up in a booming voice.
“The lads may get carried away, here and there, but my men are gentlemen of their word. We shall be sure that all payments for the quarter are first paid to the local merchants that have welcomed our soldiers . . .” The commander of the militia trailed off as a firm knock interrupted his explanation. Mr. Phillips gave an annoyed nod to Elizabeth’s silent query, and she opened the same door she had barged through.
“Colonel, sir!” Captain Carter walked in and stood at attention as Elizabeth closed the door behind him.
“Yes, Carter, what is it?” Colonel Forster shuddered his shoulders down, attempting to find comfort in the stiff wooden chair Mr. Phillips used to keep interviews brief. Elizabeth felt a pang of sympathy for the colonel, but her anger prevented her from finding the humor in the situation.
“I helped Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia to their carriage as Miss Elizabeth requested. Miss Lydia handed me this.” Captain Carter handed over the hastily folded note and bowed.
After the Colonel read it, his face turned several shades redder. He handed the note to Mr. Phillips as a loud commotion could be heard out on the street, punctuated by the screams of women.
As Captain Carter swung open the door, Elizabeth beat him through but opened the front door for the Captain to reach outside first. The Bennet carriage hurried far down the lane, with a distinctly red coat blur in the driver’s position. Kitty and Lydia lay crumpled on the ground, crying, the Bennet driver attempting to console them.
“What? What happened?” Elizabeth asked, rushing forward to help her sisters up.
“It was that soldier, ma’am,” Mr. Nash, the Bennet driver said. “I was waiting for you to come out, and he came from the door, opened the carriage, pulled Miss Catherine out! Miss Lydia, she screamed, and as I was scrambling down, he grabbed me and threw me to the ground. He drove off before I could gather my wits about me.”
“And I barely jumped out of the carriage before he stole it! That evil Mr. Wickham!” Lydia finished.
Mr. Phillips and Colonel Forster finally arrived outside as Captain Carter returned, riding a horse and leading another by the reins.
“If we hurry, we can catch him!” Captain Carter said, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of adventure.
Elizabeth and Mr. Nash helped Lydia and Kitty inside for care as Mr. Phillips walked over to the inn to alert the constable.
Once Elizabeth learned that Mr. Nash did not suffer any lasting injury, she dispatched him to collect Jane as they would take the Phillips’ carriage home. Mrs. Phillips and Mrs. Forster bustled downstairs from their earlier indispositions, and soon the entire story tumbled out as both Lydia and Kitty enjoyed a glass of Madeira.
“You scolded us, Lizzy, but we were pretending. It was the only way.” Kitty sniffed, then lamented that Lieutenant Denny was not present.
“What was the only way? I do not understand.” Elizabeth searched Kitty’s face for a clue, but Lydia gave away the ruse.
“To make Mr. Wickham fall in love with me, of course! I’d sent him secret letters by way of Denny. I knew it was only a matter of time before he proposed and wished to elope!” Lydia said to the shock of the older women present.
“But Lydia! You know that eloping would ruin your reputation and all of your sisters’ as well!” Mrs. Phillips scolded her niece.
“La! But I would never elope with him. With Jane and Elizabeth marrying so well, I’m going to marry a duke! Or at least an earl. As soon as he put it in writing, I handed it over to Captain Carter!” Lydia shrugged her shoulders and held out her empty glass for more wine. Mrs. Forster looked to Jane for permission, who nodded.
“So that’s the note Captain Carter passed to Colonel Forster,” Elizabeth realized, closing her eyes and rubbing the sides of her temple. If the Bennet name had been besmirched before this, now it would be positively black.
“Still, it was very reckless. What if you had broken your neck when you dove out of the carriage? Or worse, what if you hadn’t been able to get out and you were kidnapped along with the stolen carriage?” Jane presented a convincing imitation of how Elizabeth would generally speak to their younger sisters, without an ounce of sweetness or softness in tone.
Kitty looked at Lydia and then down at her bleeding knee, a scrape that had occurred when Mr. Wickham roughly yanked her out of the carriage. “I had not thought about that.”
“No, you did not. You two girls took a dangerous game into your hands, and you are beyond fortunate neither of you is seriously hurt.” Mrs. Phillips fluttered about the room like a worried hen as her husband had come back only to change his clothes and join the posse of villagers riding with the constable after the regiment that was after Wickham.
“But they’ll catch him now, Aunt, and put him in jail. Where he belongs!” Lydia laughed, and Kitty joined her.
“Mr. Wickham has stolen a horse and carriage,” Elizabeth said, very somberly. “They will shoot him on sight.”
Both younger Bennet girls blinked furiously as they looked around the room to confirm Elizabeth’s statement. Slowly, Mrs. Forster, Mrs. Phillips, and even Jane nodded. Suddenly feeling the weight of their actions, the two youngest Bennet sisters began to wail and Jane and Elizabeth each took one to comfort. No one wished Mr. Wickham well, but neither did any of them want him dead.
You’ve been reading . . . If Mr. Darcy Dared, a work in progress by Elizabeth Ann West.
If Mr. Darcy Dared
a Pride and Prejudice variation novel
Direct Preorder Release Date: March 23, 2018
Wide preorder: March 30, 2018
As Charles Bingley and Fitzwilliam Darcy prepare for the Netherfield Ball, a gentlemen’s challenge develops between them to secure their future happiness . . . with the two eldest Bennet sisters! But when things do not go as expected for Mr. Darcy, Hertfordshire society is in an uproar over the pursuit of one of their favorite daughters by such a wealthy gentleman.Â
Despite being claimed by Mr. Darcy as his future bride, Elizabeth Bennet has no plans to wed the proud and disdainful Mr. Darcy, no matter what her father says! At her sister’s urging, she agrees to give him a chance, if only for Jane’s sake. But there are others with an interest in breaking a match between Fitzwilliam Darcy and some country miss. . .
The stakes are high and romance strong as two of Jane Austen’s most beloved characters dare to declare their feelings, dare to defy family, and dare to trust each other!
If Mr. Darcy Dared is a steamy romance for fans of Elizabeth Ann West’s other works, especially those readers who love their drama cranked to a ten!Â
Available March 30th on these fine vendors (more added as links become available)
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
A Jane-of-all-trades, mistress to none! Elizabeth Ann West is the author of 8 novels and 11 novellas, 18 of which are story variations of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.
Oh my!!! Lydia working to get Wickham in trouble. Wickham stealing the Bennet carriage. I’m glad there’s more to come!!!
What a turn of events as Elizabeth is perturbed as news of Mr. Wickham and Georgiana’s affair once noised around will become fuel for more gossip finds Lydia sitting with Wickham who schemes to entrap him with his letter of committment to her so he runs off stealing the Bennnet carriage and may be shot as a result.
Oh, Lydia. What is Wickham going to do now. Where is he going with the carriage?