THANK YOU FOR READING!
-Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 12 - For the Love of a Bennet a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Lieutenant Denny led Elizabeth near enough to Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam to attract the man’s notice. Sensing someone behind him, Richard turned around. In only half a moment, he looked past the man that was barely his acquaintance, and his mouth split into a mischievous half-smile to the young woman he recognized. Immediately, he bowed his head and greeted her by name.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet in Brighton! You cleverly hid any travel plans this far south when I saw you in Kent,” he stated, practically accusing the young woman of deception.
Elizabeth laughed nervously, her eyes flicking between Richard and his taller cousin, with whom she had so much history. “I had no design to travel to Brighton, then, sir. Only upon returning to Hertfordshire did I learn of my youngest sister’s invitation, by Colonel Forster’s wife.” Elizabeth explained, gesturing towards the front of the assembly rooms where she had left the rest of her party. She held her breath as Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam took a moment to glance at each other.
“You knew Colonel Fitzwilliam in Kent?” Denny asked, leaning closer to Elizabeth so she could hear him clearly. She nodded but kept her gaze on Mr. Darcy, searching for any signs of discomfort or disapproval that she approached their party.
When Mr. Darcy locked eyes with Elizabeth, she sighed in relief and then felt heat rise up to her cheeks. Embarrassed, she was startled to find Mr. Darcy to be very handsome, as Jane had once pointed out. But she never fully considered the man’s features for his handsomeness.
No, instead of giving him a fair evaluation, she had colored his appearance with the brushstrokes of insult from their first meeting in Meryton. Her dislike of him, strengthened by Mr. Wickham’s lies about Mr. Darcy stealing a living from him and other misunderstandings, further kept him as a gentleman she did not consider in the least.
She had been wrong.
Elizabeth wanted to say something to him, but it would not be polite for her to speak first. She pressed her lips together in humility, then thought better of it and offered a smile of encouragement. To her delight, Mr.Darcy finally spoke:
“Miss Elizabeth, it is a pleasure to see you again.” He bowed his head.
“I would say the same, sir,” she said, firmly. She enjoyed the small look of surprise on his face once he lifted his head, but he swiftly schooled his features to appear indifferent.
More relaxed in her situation, Elizabeth addressed Mr. Darcy’s cousin. “Colonel Forster and his wife told me this ball is in your honor, Colonel Fitzwilliam, for you have newly taken your post. If this is correct, please accept my congratulations, sir.”
All three men suddenly looked rather uncomfortable speaking of such a topic. Remembering poor Mr. Denny standing next to her, Elizabeth sought to relieve him of his chaperoning duties.
“The set is ending, Mr. Denny. I believe you promised a dance to Mrs. Forster?” she asked, reminding him of the pact he made that afternoon.
Denny looked to Colonel Fitzwilliam for approval. The man of superior rank gave a nod, to signify that Elizabeth was safe in his care. Lieutenant Denny accepted the acknowledgement he could see to his other interests for the evening.
For a moment, neither Mr. Darcy nor Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke, but the man next to them that Elizabeth did not know reached out his hand. Instinctively, Elizabeth held out her gloved hand to his offer, as he bowed his head and introduced himself as Captain Joshua Shawcroft, of Winmarleigh.
“What a pleasure, Miss Elizabeth, to meet an acquaintance of men I’ve known since my childhood. May I have the honor —” Shawcroft began, but Colonel Fitzwilliam quickly reached over to take Elizabeth’s hand and cut the good captain off.
“No, you may not. Stand down, Captain.” Richard said, teasingly, but firm enough that Captain Shawcroft did not debate with him. “Would you care to dance the next set with me, Miss Elizabeth?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
Elizabeth giggled at the men fighting over her hand at the next set, a very stark contrast to the first dance assembly where she and Mr. Darcy participated. Without thinking twice, she looked at Mr. Darcy and smiled at him in hopes he would understand that she wished for there to be no ill feelings between them.
“Well Colonel, seeing as I intend to dance more this evening,” she said with her eyes flicking again to Mr. Darcy’s direction, “I should be delighted to be your partner for the next set.”
“I can see now, Miss Bennet,” Captain Shawcroft said, “you are a lady who means to play favorites. I was most certainly going to ask you to dance the next set.”
As Colonel Fitzwilliam began to lead her away to their positions in the set, Elizabeth felt comfortable teasing her newest acquaintance, slightly. “Not favorites, Captain Shawcroft. Merely following rank, sir,” she said with a grin, and Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed heartily at her jesting of the man.
Richard led them to the closest position in the line from where they had left Mr. Darcy and Captain Shawcroft in conversation. Elizabeth caught herself looking over at them frequently during the dance, hoping to see Mr. Darcy. Quickly, she became self-conscious that her dance partner might have noticed. She stopped and focused on her steps, and her partner. He did not appear bothered by Elizabeth’s preoccupation, for his eyes were also on the same conversation.
Elizabeth became intrigued by what caused Colonel Fitzwilliam to watch so protectively over his cousin. She knew why she kept looking at Mr. Darcy, and she wagered to guess that Colonel Fitzwilliam was not harboring feelings for the man.
“I see that you are nervous for Mr. Darcy and the Captain to be talking alone,” Elizabeth stated, as she spun close to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s flank in a side-by-side promenade for a few dance steps. He performed the appropriate turn to lead her back to her side.
“The opposite, Miss Bennet. Talking with Shawcroft is the sole purpose my cousin had in attending this evening,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, and Elizabeth furrowed her brow in bewilderment.
She recalled the conversation in the carriage where Colonel Forster explained how another Colonel had been in his place. Not exactly sure how the pieces fit, her intuition told her that one piece of information related to the other. After all, there had to be a reason that Mr. Darcy felt he needed to attend to his cousin’s new post, an odd assignment for a gentleman without a rank in any militia or army that she was aware of.
“Does their conversation have anything to do with Colonel Farrington’s recall to London? Mrs. Forster misses his wife keenly as a card partner,” she said, to explain how she’d come to know such information.
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Elizabeth with an intractable stormy expression on his face, but he soon shook it off to attend more to the dancing.
“You seem uncommonly interested in the business of my cousin. If you beg my pardon for speaking such, for a lady who told him he was the last man on earth whom she could be prevailed upon to marry.” Colonel Fitzwilliam repeated the accounting that Mr. Darcy gave him, and was not entirely shocked that Elizabeth Bennet failed to react.
Instead, the lady tilted her chin up and took a deep breath. “Yes, yes, I was particularly nasty to him, wasn’t I? The poor man,” she said, with all the confidence of a woman who never expected his first proposal, let alone any restoration of his affections. Her feelings on the matter carried little risk of consequence.
Elizabeth and the Colonel danced more and just as the set was coming to a close, the man with a penchant for military intelligence took an opportunity to interrogate further.
“You almost said that as a lady who has changed her feelings towards my cousin,” he said, quietly.
To this statement, Elizabeth gasped. As they applauded the end of the set, she turned to him with an expression of guilt. She cast her eyes down and explained what could briefly be shared in a ballroom.
“I am not a woman who holds false opinions when she is presented with plain and truthful facts,” Elizabeth said. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Mr. Wickham leading Lydia away from the dance floor towards a more secluded area of the assembly room. “You must excuse me, Colonel.”
Watching a lady he admired greatly for her courage and common sense, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach on behalf of his cousin. In his opinion, there was no woman more perfect in all of England to become his cousin’s wife. But the poor woman was clearly vexed beyond reason. He watched as she reached her destination, and as he witnessed the loathsome Mr. Wickham deceptively charming another young innocent. He assumed from the lady’s resemblance to Miss Elizabeth that she must be the youngest sister invited to Brighton by the Forsters.
With George Wickham present, his plans to indict Shawcroft grew complicated. To protect Georgiana, his cousin might very well leave at morning light. But if Darcy feared that Miss Elizabeth might be in harm’s way, perhaps his affection or jealousy might keep him in Brighton longer. Spying his cousin making his way to him as another set began, Colonel Fitzwilliam casually strolled the assembly room in the opposite direction until he found Colonel Forster.
Joyful introductions were exchanged and he watched carefully as Elizabeth tried to politely convince her sister to separate herself from Mr. Wickham. His anger rising as he kept his patience, he inquired about the most banal subject he could think of from the militia colonel.
“Traveling from Meryton? That must have taken a fortnight! How were the roads?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, allowing the man of the same rank, but vastly different levels of responsibility, to regale him with anecdotes of the journey. Richard nodded as politely as was necessary, waiting for his cousin to find him.
NEW RELEASE
For the Love of a Bennet
What if Elizabeth Bennet traveled with Lydia to Brighton?
A reimagining of Jane Austen’s most beloved tale, Pride & Prejudice, join author Elizabeth Ann West as she writes the romantic adventure story she always wanted! When Lizzy and Lydia arrive in Brighton, it’s very clear that the younger Bennet sister came with very serious plans towards Mr. Wickham. Thankfully, an old ally is also in town, with problems of his own to solve. After Mr. Darcy, himself, is summoned to Brighton to hopefully solve two dilemmas with one wealthy member of the gentry, the whole militia is thrown into an uproar by Wickham’s most dastardly deed, yet. Together, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have to save Lydia from her own undoing, or it will mean more than just mere reputations are ruined.
For the Love of a Bennet is a novel length story, currently being posted chapter by chapter on Elizabeth’s author site. This story was originally conceptualized in 2019 as a part of the All Go to Brighton challenge.
Chapter 13 - For the Love of a Bennet, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Mr. Darcy grew more irritated with his cousin as he sidestepped multiple soldiers and many silly young ladies blocking his path to the front of the assembly rooms. He dodged, and shuffled, coming up short when a wayward couple at the end of the line misstepped and barreled into the crowds observing the festivities. They laughed as he looked at them in disgust, clearly inebriated and slow in returning to the line of dancers.
Despite the numerous obstacles to his aims, he kept a keen eye for both his cousin and the woman who bewitched him, body and soul, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He grew distracted as his mind insisted on replaying the brief exchange before his cousin escorted her to the dance floor.
He had suppressed his desire to be the one to ask Miss Elizabeth for the set to make the necessary connection with Captain Shawcroft. He had not tipped his entire hand as that might make the captain suspicious. But he believed he laid enough groundwork for the treacherous army officer to have inclinations toward Mr. Darcy’s deep pockets when it came time to fence his goods.
Practically near the door, Mr. Darcy scowled at his cousin, talking joyfully with Colonel Forster and several women, matronly in age save one, that he did not recognize.
“Ah!” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “there he is. Forster, I believe you know my cousin, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Colonel Forster agreed, and he proceeded to introduce the other woman next to him, including his wife, who Mr. Darcy had not had the opportunity to meet in Meryton. Mr. Darcy was surprised that Mrs. Forster did not look much older than Miss Elizabeth, and Colonel Forster was senior to Richard and him in age. Rank in the militia did not open up nearly as often as the Regulars. The elder woman he had believed to be the Colonel’s wife was married to another officer, Warrender.
The conversation continued, and he answered Mrs. Warrender’s inquiry as to his travels satisfactorily when the sight of Miss Elizabeth brought him into a silent rage. It was clear from her visage that she was quite angry, and the person making her most irate was none other than the lecherous George Wickham!
Mr. Darcy, without thought to his movement, began to make his way directly to Miss Lydia and Miss Elizabeth on the far side of the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam made their apologies.
“You must excuse us, the next set is about to begin, and I have yet to dance with Miss Elizabeth’s sister,” he said, hastily. As the charming young colonel followed his cousin, Mrs. Forster and Mrs. Warrender shared a gleeful giggle.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy interrupted, and Lydia gasped in shock.
“Mr. Darcy!” she exclaimed, “What are you doing in Brighton?” the young woman asked rudely, but he ignored her query. Mr. Darcy’s eyes were only for Elizabeth.
“May I have the honor of the next set?” he asked her.
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment and blew out her breath in an attempt to regain her patience. Lydia would not listen that it was unwise to attach herself so blatantly to one man at a public assembly. Lydia had already danced two sets with Mr. Wickham. And now Lizzy was forced to choose between battling further with her wayward sister or seeking her interests by accepting Mr. Darcy’s hand. Her heart did not allow the battle to tarry for long. She opened her eyes and smiled.
“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Darcy.”
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth could not walk away quite yet as Colonel Fitzwilliam suddenly appeared, blocking his cousin’s path.
“Miss Elizabeth, you did not tell me that your sister was twice as beautiful as her elder sister.” Colonel Fitzwilliam gave a very low bow to the young woman who did not look a day older than Georgiana. She fell into a fit of giggles for such blatant flirtation.
Elizabeth immediately understood Richard’s game and did not take offense. The man was aiding in the removal of Mr. Wickham.
“Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, this is my sister, Lydia Bennet. Lydia, this is Mr. Darcy’s cousin,” she said.
Lydia accepted a kiss on the top of her gloved hand by her new acquaintance. “Have you met Lieutenant Wickham, Colonel Darcy?” Lydia asked, butchering the poor man’s name, and making an introduction, that was not entirely hers to do.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, ever affable, cocked his head to one side. “To be sure, I am well acquainted with Mr. George Wickham. But I can honestly say I have not had the honor of meeting Lieutenant George Wickham,” he said, emphasizing the man’s lower rank.
Mr. Wickham turned a ghastly pale and mumbled his regrets as he encouraged Lydia to dance another set.
“Only if you promise that you will dance the last set with me, Mr. Wickham,” Lydia demanded. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
Wickham nodded as Lydia would not accept another answer, and he quietly stepped away. The two Bennet sisters were finally escorted to the dance floor by their respective partners.
Recalling his unreliable record when it came to dancing with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy at first fell deep into his thoughts of everything he wished he could say. He wanted to offer the woman another apology, for the unkind manner in which he had asked for her hand in marriage. It was odd to him, to have shared so much between them, and yet society dictated that nothing of substance should pass between them in such a public place.
When he could not think of anything to say, he studied her face, recommitting to his memory every part of it that brought him joy. But she did not appear as the same carefree Miss Elizabeth he had known in Meryton or even Kent. That woman was replaced by the face of another who appeared wise beyond her years and burdened by the heavy mantle of responsibility. His heart ached for her that she was tasked with curtailing her sister’s behavior.
Finally, he came to a topic that he was certain would be safe to pass between them, the subject of sisters.
“My sister is with me, here in Brighton. I would like to introduce her to you if it pleases you.”
Elizabeth’s shoulders relaxed from the rigid posture she had held them in for most of the dance. For a moment, he saw a glimmer of the old Elizabeth he knew well.
“We are staying at number fourteen, King’s Road. But I feel I must warn you,” she said, for the dance steps forced her to wait until they were reunited. Then, she resumed speaking. “Many an afternoon Mr. Wickham and his friend Mr. Denny, are likely to visit. I would not like to see your sister distressed.”
Mr. Darcy felt his anger rising in his blood once more, but as he realized that Elizabeth was looking at him for a reaction, he quickly returned a smile. One benefit of penning his letter of confession to her had been a lessening of his fears over his sister’s reputation. He and his cousin had reviewed the facts many times. There was no advantage to Mr. Wickham sullying Georgiana’s reputation. Even if he attempted to do so, his connection to the Darcy family was so well known in the upper sets that his visit to Ramsgate could easily be explained away.
Darcy mulled Miss Elizabeth’s words, overwhelmed by her concern and care for another she had never met. Quickly, he suspected a solution could be found. “They often visit in the afternoon. Am I to understand their military duties keep them occupied in the morning hours?” he asked Elizabeth and she enthusiastically nodded.
“Then my sister and I shall call on you tomorrow if you approve,” he said, kindly.
“I heartily approve of your plan, Mr. Darcy. I only wish I had brought a different sister with me to Brighton,” she said, as they braved a burst of nervous laughter at the taxing position the seaside trip placed them both in.
The last few steps of the set would convince any casual observer that Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet had formed quite the attachment. In fact, it was Mrs. Forster who pointed out to her husband how surprised she was to see the two dancing with each other.
“Lydia has told me she hates the gentleman, on multiple occasions. I can’t imagine having to dance with him,” Mrs. Forster said, wrinkling up her nose. Within earshot, the wise Mrs. Warrender observed the same as Mrs. Forster and contemplated on the new information that the Bennet sisters were previously acquainted with Mr. Darcy. She thought that perhaps Colonel Fitzwilliam heard word of the two Bennet sisters in residence with the Forsters and sent for his cousin by design. She was about to share her suspicions on the matter when Forster made his position plain to his wife.
“I believe young ladies are perhaps unclear about their feelings towards gentlemen when they are first introduced. Or perhaps they do not confess them freely to a younger sister,” Colonel Forster said logically when Lieutenant Denny signaled him for the opportunity to speak with the Major General. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, taking his leave.
Mrs. Warrender stepped forward and took the position closest to Mrs. Forster. Before she could speak, her friend was quickly complaining about how all of the younger soldiers had fallen too far into their cups to seek her out for another set.
“I dearly hope they all suffer from the worst headaches come muster for ruining the fun,” Mrs. Forster complained.
Mrs. Warrender looked around the assembly room as it was far less of a crush than had been when the evening first started. As the hour neared midnight, more and more soldiers had begun the trek back to the barracks, and the local couples had long since called their carriages.
“Let me find you Mr. Wickham,” she said, earnestly searching for the gentleman in question. But no matter where Mrs. Warrender looked, as though it were a perverse game of hide-and-seek in plain sight, the charming officer was nowhere to be found. “How strange,” she commented, “I was sure he would be here until the very last.”
Mrs. Forster sighed as the set ended, and Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy began to escort the yawning Bennet sisters back to their party.
“It’s just as well,” Mrs. Forster whined. “I believe my husband has gone to make his farewells. We should have our carriage called.”
When the Master of Ceremonies announced the last set, Lydia took off to find Mr. Wickham. For a moment, Elizabeth stood awkwardly with Mrs. Warrender, Mrs. Forster, and the two gentlemen from Derbyshire. Lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth felt unable to believe her luck in running once more into Mr. Darcy. She fervently prayed Providence would allow her an opportunity to apologize to the man, and explain to him that he was correct in most of his beliefs, though perhaps not the most tactful when sharing them.
“You dance uncommonly gracefully, Mr. Darcy. Pray, surely you can be prevailed upon for another set?” Mrs. Warrender asked, and Mr. Darcy fumbled for a moment to ask Mrs. Warrender if she would like to dance. He looked to Elizabeth and hoped she noticed he was making an effort to be more well-mannered to people newly acquainted with him. But Elizabeth was staring off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. He continued to stare at her, unsure if this was the last time he would see her, though strangely, they kept meeting in the most unlikely of places.
Mrs. Warrender chuckled at the young man’s civility. “I’m afraid I have danced in excess this evening, but I believe Miss Elizabeth has energy for one more?” she asked, continuing to play the meddling matchmaker as she had since the beginning of the evening.
Elizabeth looked confused, as she thought surely Mr. Darcy would not wish to dance a second set with her. Such an action could set expectations in the minds of others, leading to gossip.
Blushing, she tried to give the man a way out of the obligation. “Please, Mr. Darcy, you do not have to—” she began, but the man clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head.
“I would happily dance as many sets as you would give, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, with a wink to Mrs. Warrender.
Elizabeth’s hand trembled as she accepted Mr. Darcy’s for another set. They were tardy to the lineup, so they had to wait a moment to enter the end of the line at the appropriate time in the music.
Elizabeth’s curiosity got the better of her. She felt compelled to ask Mr. Darcy about his intentions so that she did not misunderstand him as she had so many times in their acquaintance.
“Mr. Darcy,” she began, looking up at him and waiting until he looked back at her. “Do you mean to say your feelings towards me are unchanged?” she asked, holding her breath that she could be so bold. The long journey to Brighton, seeing him again; she had to keep her courage or Fate would make a mockery out of her, the penniless Bennet sister who rejected perfectly good husbands.
The moment came to join the line and as they began the pattern of steps, Mr. Darcy used the opportunity to lean close to her ear and whispered.
“They are unchanged.”
You’ve been reading For the Love of a Bennet.
Now available everywhere ebooks are sold!
What if Elizabeth Bennet traveled with Lydia to Brighton?
A reimagining of Jane Austen’s most beloved tale, Pride & Prejudice, join author Elizabeth Ann West as she writes the romantic adventure story she always wanted! When Lizzy and Lydia arrive in Brighton, it’s very clear that the younger Bennet sister came with very serious plans towards Mr. Wickham. Thankfully, an old ally is also in town, with problems of his own to solve. After Mr. Darcy, himself, is summoned to Brighton to hopefully solve two dilemmas with one wealthy member of the gentry, the whole militia is thrown into an uproar by Wickham’s most dastardly deed, yet. Together, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy have to save Lydia from her own undoing, or it will mean more than just mere reputations are ruined.
For the Love of a Bennet is a novel length story, currently being posted chapter by chapter on Elizabeth’s author site. This story was originally conceptualized in 2019 as a part of the All Go to Brighton challenge.
Chapter 14 - For the Love of a Bennet, a Pride and Prejudice Variation1
When Mr. Darcy arrived at Marlborough House in the early hours of the morning, he entered the large, empty house as a man bursting with emotion. Miss Elizabeth was not supposed to be in Brighton, and if he ever met her again, she was not supposed to give him any hope of correcting his egregious mistakes.
But she was in Brighton, and after two sets of dancing with her smiles and infectious laughter, he was undone.
“Brother?” Georgiana’s voice startled him as he walked down the hall to his suite. He turned around to spy his sister, covered modestly in her robe, and her hair tied up for her curls in the morning.
“You should not be awake,” he said lightly, as he could not bring himself to speak in a disapproving tone. Sheepishly, he smiled at his sister, and Georgiana took a deep breath and marched directly to him.
“You’re smiling! You never smile after a ball,” she said, as he attempted to retreat to his rooms, but she followed him.
“You are too old to be frightened of the dark,” he said, but Georgiana took a seat by the fireplace and crossed her hands in her lap, expectantly waiting for her brother to cease treating her like a young girl and accept her as the confidant she was now old enough to be.
Mr. Darcy remembered one of the worst parts of the evening, apart from his conversation with Shawcroft. He cleared his throat and considered testing his sister’s mettle. While he would not like to disappoint Miss Elizabeth if Georgiana’s reaction went poorly, he would worry about that problem after he disclosed Mr. Wickham’s presence.
“There is a member of the recently camped militia that I would spare you from ever hearing his name again—” he began, and then stopped as his sister’s breath quickened. He watched in awe as the panic and anxiety he battled at other times attacked his sister, but she held up her hand and set her face in a determined expression.
Her lips pressed firm as she inhaled through her nose a very deep breath, she spoke his name.
“George Wickham joined a militia?” she asked, with a slightly stuttering rhythm.
Mr. Darcy nodded. “His regiment is stationed here, under Colonel Forster.”
Georgiana nodded, and visibly swallowed, making her brother distressed.
“Forgive me, I cannot ask you. It is too much of a risk that you might see him,” he said, turning away in a rant to himself that made little sense to his sister.
“What is too much of a risk? I don’t understand, you were happy. I saw it!” she said, earnestly. “I cannot see how you were happy that Mr. Wickham is in Brighton, so there must have been something else that occurred at the ball,” she reasoned.
Mr. Darcy’s shoulders rose and fell as he took measured breaths. When he would not speak, Georgiana sat back in the chair and allowed her arms to languish over the rests, similarly to her cousin Richard.
“We cannot keep things from each other. We promised that, after Ramsgate. If I had not told you the truth of my discomfort, you would not have been able to save me.”
Her brother turned around and pulled the other chair in the room closer to her, and took a seat before he began. Patiently, Georgiana waited.
In a burst of energy, Fitzwilliam unburdened his heart. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is here, in Brighton. We danced twice, and I believe you might be right, that she will accept an apology from me, though I cannot fathom how I deserve such grace.”
Nodding along with her brother, Georgiana clapped her hands in jubilation at the news that the woman he was in love with was also in Brighton.
“What luck! First Fortune places you two in Kent, and now Brighton?” she asked, and he rolled his eyes.
“I hardly think it was luck,” he said.
“Well, it was certainly a sign of Providence. We could be in London. And she could have traveled anywhere this summer,” Georgiana pointed out.
Darcy shook off his sister’s glee over signs and coincidences. “Mr. Wickham has taken an interest in her younger sister, who was the original recipient of the invitation here to the seaside, by Colonel Forster’s wife.”
“Oh no! They don’t know how dangerous he is!” Georgiana exclaimed, leaning forward in the chair and clasping her hands once more into her lap. She nervously wrung them in great distress over the Bennet sisters.
Mr. Darcy blanched. “Miss Elizabeth is apprised of his treachery,” he said, softly, making his sister gasp. Quickly, he tried to put his sister at ease. “But she would not tell a soul. To my observation, she has not even told her sister, and Miss Lydia hangs on to his every word.”
Georgiana stared away from her brother, troubled that he had told another, especially a woman she had never met, about her greatest disgrace. Her mouth became dry as he continued to explain how it was all a folly.
“I told Miss Elizabeth that we would call on her tomorrow, on King’s Road. But I will have a message sent with our regrets. I cannot risk you seeing Mr. Wickham at that house and I am terribly sorry that I was foolish for a moment to even think to put you in such an uncomfortable position. You shall leave in the morning with Mrs. Annesley.”
Georgiana blinked, coming out of her stupor. “But, I don’t wish to leave. And I have already seen him,” she said, making her brother suddenly unleash the anger he had kept safely checked all evening.
“You have WHAT?!?” he said, standing up from the chair and forcing himself to walk away from his sister as he processed her confession.
“Peace, Fitzwilliam, I didn’t know it was him. What I mean is, when we drove Richard home to his quarters and took a long turn to come back, I thought I saw a soldier who looked just like Mr. Wickham. I was shocked, in the carriage, and Mrs. Annesley comforted me in my horror. She tried to persuade me that it was perhaps just a man who looked like him and feared that I was hallucinating,” Georgiana explained, adding more details as her brother’s anger appeared to subside the more she spoke. “I suppose now I am grateful that you told me he is here,” she said, brightly.
Confused, Darcy considered her as he paced the room, waiting for her to explain herself. Laughing, she made a logical joke to break the sour mood.
“I am not hallucinating! I tried to tell Mrs. Annesley that I had never mistaken another man for him before, it was just so unlikely that he was here. But now you have confirmed he is here and therefore, I am not going mad.”
Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to recount exactly how his life had become more absurd than a Shakespearean comedy. A failed proposal, a nearly ruined sister, and a soldier cousin in danger from his own men. Any moment now, Puck was going to fly in through the window and turn him into an ass!
“I do not wish to go home tomorrow. If you promised Miss Elizabeth that we would call on her tomorrow, you cannot break your promise to her,” Georgiana said, standing from the chair to make sure her voice carried across the room.
“You did not secretly plan to meet with Mr. Wickham here at Brighton?” he asked, and his sister flashed him a glare of anger. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I had to ask, forgive me,” he said.
Cooly, Georgiana reminded him that she had no idea the man had even taken a commission. “I was once misguided by loneliness and idleness. Without a mother to guide me in the warnings others young ladies receive from the moment they are in stays,” she said, watching her brother wince slightly at the discussion of her undergarments, “Mr. Wickham attempted to fool me when I was vulnerable.”
Mr. Darcy gulped and slowly walked toward his sister. “If I had known the warnings to give, I would have. You were only fifteen and we never believed you could be in danger of that kind,” he explained, and Georgiana nodded.
The two siblings stood before each other and when one yawned, the other couldn’t avoid the involuntary mimicry. Laughing at their silliness, Fitzwilliam leaned forward to kiss his sister’s forehead.
“I still prefer you to leave in the morning with Mrs. Annesley,” he repeated.
“But you do not command that I go.” She tested the meaning of his words.
“I-I,” he stumbled, as his thoughts jumbled into a mess of so many mistakes he had made in ordering others to his opinions. He sighed. For once, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, could not entirely trust his own counsel. “I believe you to be safer.”
Georgiana shook her head. “I wouldn’t feel safer away from you,” she said, sweetly. Taking a deep breath, she made sure her voice did not waver for her next speech. “George Wickham cannot threaten me. It sounds as though he is chasing another, and we have to save her, too, Brother. Miss Elizabeth will be ruined if he holds serious designs on her younger sister.”
Mr. Darcy closed his eyes. “You’re likely correct, but it feels wrong to include you.” He paused and fought back another yawn. “I am tired. We can talk about this in the morning. Agreed?” he asked, and his sister embraced him in response.
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam, for not sending me away. You’ll see. I won’t embarrass you,” she said, squeezing him tightly so that his arms were pinned to his side. Feeling him chuckle at her exuberance, she pulled back and gave him a sheepish look.
Wrinkling her nose, she asked him a question. “Should I find a less childish way to thank you?” she asked and he shook his head.
Giving her a brotherly growl, he opened his arms and pulled her tightly into his own embrace, before kissing the top of her head.
“Never,” he repeated a few times, before finally releasing her. “Now go to bed, or neither of us will wake in time to visit anyone,” he warned.
Georgiana ducked away from him and scurried to the door, finding Mrs. Annesley on the other side. Mr. Darcy felt more comfortable seeing his sister’s companion so dedicated to her care. Pulling the cord to summon his valet, Mr. Dacy’s head began to pound at the overabundance of information from the evening. His sister had not told him that she thought she saw Mr. Wickham, a choice of privacy that did not sit well with him. Granted, she had told Mrs. Annesley and the woman believed her to be seeing visions. He could have told her she wasn’t going mad, but he also had not visited her before the ball. She was right, whenever they kept secrets from one another, they both suffered.
“Will that be all, sir?” his man asked, and Darcy dismissed him, but then thought of one last thing.
“My blue coat. Make sure it is ready for tomorrow morning. I have calls to make,” he said, and his valet nodded.
Repulsed at having to sleep again in a bed that was not his own, Mr. Darcy tried not to think about how long the mattress had been in use. Instead, he tried to focus on the illustrious men who had once lived in the household. His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough, was a given. But even the Hamiltons, who owned the house after the Spencers, were a respectable family. As his body settled, the exhaustion of travel, dancing, and emotions of the day soon overcame his discomfort. A slumbering lull began to slow his thoughts, as he tried to keep track of all that had occurred, and finally, he settled on the happiest thought of them all: Elizabeth Bennet did not hate him.
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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.