- Home
- Rowan Renault
Defending Elizabeth Page 10
Defending Elizabeth Read online
Page 10
Chapter 17
Darcy attempted to focus on what his aunt was saying, but his mind would not obey. It kept drifting back to thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet in George Wickham's embrace. Darcy already consciously unclenched his teeth three times during dinner, and he suspected he would continue to find them clenched throughout the evening. Why must she be so incredibly stubborn?
While he had been somewhat reasonable after his conversation with Elizabeth during their walk, the days since saw his anger increase. He did not know why he was cast as the villain, when all he wished to do was keep her safe from that scoundrel--and she had the audacity to consider Wickham to be the gentleman in this situation! Darcy snorted indignantly.
"I say, Darcy, whatever is the matter?" his aunt asked sharply, clearly not pleased with being interrupted.
"It is nothing."
"It did not sound like nothing. It quite sounded like something, and I would like to know what."
Darcy resisted the urge to sigh. He knew his aunt would not abandon the topic until she thought she won. "I am having a dispute with one of my tenants, and I was considering the best way to remedy the situation."
"Well, there is only one thing that can be done! If one of your tenants is disagreeing with you, you must evict him! Who is he to question your judgment?"
Darcy already regretted choosing that particular lie. "Well, the situation is a good deal more complicated than that."
"But it does not have to be! Anne, I hope you are listening, because when you are the mistress of a grand manor like Pemberley, you will need to deal with such things."
Darcy was not sure if his aunt spoke of Anne being the mistress of Pemberley itself, or just a similar manor. Neither one was especially likely. His aunt mistakenly believed he and Anne would be married, despite his gentle attempts to dissuade her. It was not until after his mother died Lady Catherine began speaking of this betrothal which had existed "since Anne and Darcy were born." He suspected the betrothal was more a figment of his aunt's imagination than of any actual promise. His father lacked any awareness of such a betrothal, and that lent credence to Darcy's way of thinking.
He understood why his aunt was so determined to marry him to Anne. She was a frail thing, her ill health requiring most of her strength just to sit upright. There would be no balls for Anne, no opportunity to meet appropriate suitors. Even if those suitors were met, what man would choose a wife who might be too delicate to bear children? Indeed, Anne's marriage prospects were dismal.
Darcy did not feel too sorry for his cousin, however. As Lady Catherine's sole heiress, Anne would inherit a great fortune, and without a father or a husband, she would have the freedom to do what she wished with her money. Darcy spoke with her about her dreams, and he knew she one day hoped to turn Rosings into a literary salon and surround herself with interesting ideas and even more interesting people without being required to leave the estate. Lady Catherine would be horrified with such a plan, so Anne only spoke of it in longing whispers, like another woman might speak of a secret lover.
It comforted him to know he was not jilting his cousin, of whom he was quite fond. However, none of this solved the issue that Lady Catherine believed, whole-heartedly, he and Anne were going to marry. No amount of hinting by either of them dislodged this particular belief from her mind.
Darcy returned his mind to the present, and realized his aunt waited for a response from him.
"My apologies, Aunt, what was that?" he asked.
"I said, do you still plan to remain for another fortnight?" she said crossly.
Darcy thought for a moment. His primary reason for visiting Rosings was to speak with Elizabeth, and he had spoken with her, although he did not get the resolution he hoped for. He could be back on the road to Pemberley by the following day, if he wished. He was struck with a pang of homesickness for Derbyshire. He needed to get away from his failed conversation with Elizabeth. It was clear she had no intention of listening to sense, so perhaps the most prudent move for him would be to leave as soon as possible.
But no, he could not leave. He knew Elizabeth to be rational, and suspected her stubbornness was the impediment to her understanding of him. He needed to try once more to reason with her. Even if he did not feel so strongly about her, no woman should marry George Wickham without understanding his real character. He could not give up so easily and allow Elizabeth to tie herself to that rogue for the rest of her life.
"My plans remain unchanged."
"And you, Fitzwilliam?" she asked of the Colonel.
"I am at Darcy's disposal; if he wishes to stay, then I am delighted to do so."
"Then that is settled. I shall invite the Miss Webbs for dinner. I am certain the company will be finer than what they are used to, but they shall manage."
Darcy nodded vaguely. Lady Catherine launched into a discussion about how the evening with the Miss Webbs was to unfold. Darcy pitied anyone who might get between his aunt and the way she expected things to be. Luckily for him, she was so intent on speaking she paid little mind to whether he listened closely. As long as he nodded occasionally, she would be placated.
This gave him time to think back to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He wished the impression he made on her was more favorable; he erred grievously the first night they met, and he knew her pride would make it difficult for her to see him as anything besides the man who insulted her. If he could undo those words, he would do so in an instant. If he was not so disagreeable on that night, he might still have a chance to win her heart and save her from Wickham. But as hard as he thought, he could not think of a way to tell her he was hasty in his judgment and his opinion had changed.
Even if there was not a chance for them to be together, he could not let her marry Wickham. He faced the choice of sharing a secret which was not his to tell, and watching Elizabeth wed a man Darcy knew would hurt her. The decision was a difficult one, but the risk of Elizabeth ruining her life was too great. He would need to be honest with her. Maybe if he did so, he could save her.
* * *
Elizabeth established a routine during her time at Hunsford, and it was therefore easy for Darcy to determine when she would be on her daily walk. Since this afforded them the time to speak previously, it seemed like the best time to approach her. He timed his appearance perfectly and encountered her as he stepped into the lane.
"Mr. Darcy," she said with a brief curtsy.
"Miss Bennet. Will you do me the courtesy of allowing me to walk with you? I am aware we did not part on good terms after our last walk."
"Of course," she replied. "Consider it forgotten, sir." Her natural curiosity ensured the previous conversation would not be forgotten; but she prepared herself to try to listen what he wanted to say. "Well, not entirely forgotten. The last time we spoke, you attempted to dissuade me from forming a connection with Mr. Wickham. You said he nearly ruined the life of someone close to you. Is there anything you can tell me about that situation without betraying the confidence of your friend?"
"It was not a friend. It was my sister, Georgiana."
Darcy went on to tell her the entire sordid story of Wickham's wooing of Georgiana. He did not leave out any details. He explained how his sister, because of her youth, had been so horribly deceived by Wickham and Mrs. Younge. As he spoke, he felt Elizabeth's eyes on him, and when he looked at her, he saw the astonishment on her face.
When he finished, Elizabeth felt warm anger coursing through her body. The tale he told was so fantastic, and so very much unlike the Mr. Wickham she knew, that she instantly disbelieved him. She opened her mouth to tell him so, and then snapped it shut again. She recalled Kitty's story about Mary and the cloak, and took a deep breath. If Darcy was lying, then he would out himself through conversation. If he told the truth, her questions should cause no consternation at all.
"What motive could cause Mr. Wickham to behave in such a way?" she asked in as level a voice as she could manage. Her voice trembled faintly, but, everything considered,
she thought she managed sufficiently.
"Georgiana's dowry was, I am certain, the main inducement. The fact their marriage would wound me was also, I suspect, in Mr. Wickham's mind."
"I do not mean to be impertinent, sir--"
Since when was that a concern? Darcy thought.
"--but if Mr. Wickham's motivation is financial, he has chosen very poorly indeed to connect himself with me."
"Yes, your connections are quite inferior to Georgiana's."
"Quite inferior? Sir, I am doing my best to remain a civil conversant, but I will not stand for your insults."
Darcy was silent for a moment. Had she just been insulted by the fact he agreed with her? He feared he would never fully understand Elizabeth Bennet.
"I apologize if you felt insulted."
"A weak apology, but one which I will accept."
Darcy resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. He could not imagine the offense she would take at that.
"In response to your question: is Mr. Wickham aware of what shall be settled upon you at marriage? You are the daughter of a gentleman. He might expect you will bring more into the union than is actually allotted."
"Well, there has been no occasion to discuss it, although our marriage settlements are far from a secret in Meryton. The most casual of inquiry would have informed him."
Darcy nodded. "Knowing the man as I do, I suspect he has made such inquiries." He was struck with a terrible idea. "Miss Bennet, has Mr. Wickham formally proposed to you?"
"Well, no, not in those words, although he made his intention quite clear. If you read the letter I received from him, you would not be in any doubt either," Elizabeth said, a bit defensively. There was part of her that sounded an alarm over the way Wickham handled himself, but she had been assiduously ignoring that feeling anytime it occurred.
"I am sorry to have to say something so base to a young lady of good breeding."
"I am relieved to hear my inferior breeding has been promoted to 'good,’” Elizabeth said drily.
Darcy chose not to rise to that particular comment. "It may be the case Mr. Wickham hopes to lure you into an engagement, and then take advantage of you, with no intention of following through."
Elizabeth's cheeks flushed red at the thought. "Mr. Darcy, you must think my morals quite inferior. Never before has my chastity been questioned."
"Nor do I question it now," he responded hastily. "But that does not mean Mr. Wickham has not questioned it, and made plans to test it."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest the story Mr. Darcy told was just too fantastical to be the truth, but that little voice she had been ignoring made itself known and laid out its argument persuasively. She thought of how often Mr. Wickham's flirting had been hardly proper--the way he spoke to her as if they were already engaged. His mention of not being able to live without her. The fact he sent her a letter through the post! Could these actions not be seen as a scoundrel testing the limits of what she would allow? Elizabeth closed her mouth again. She needed time to consider things.
"I cannot speak to who is telling the truth and who is lying," she said finally. "Your words give me pause to consider, where before I was certain. I will need to take time to consider what you have said."
Darcy bowed. "I am at your service, madam. If you have questions about anything I have told you, I am happy to entertain them."
Elizabeth was struck by the fact this conversation might allow her to make an inquiry for Jane. "Mr. Darcy, since we are being civil to one another, do you know the reason why Mr. Bingley quit Netherfield so suddenly? His absence hurt my sister more than he might have realized."
Darcy looked at her for a moment, trying to determine how honest to be. "Bingley left because he was convinced your sister did not have the depth of feeling he did."
"Not the depth of feeling? Why on Earth would he believe that to be true?"
"Well, that idea was presented with a large degree of vigor by sources very near to Bingley."
"It was his sisters, was it not?" Elizabeth cried. "I knew it was their doing."
Darcy nodded. "Certainly, they are the ones who advanced the idea."
She looked at him. "I feel you are not telling me something."
He sighed. "I did nothing to disabuse him from the idea. Had I wanted, I believe I could have successfully countered the advice he received from his sisters."
"And why did you not choose to do so? Do you not want your friend to be happy?"
Her cheeks flushed, and he could see her temper was barely under control.
"At the time, I agreed she did not hold him in the same regard that he held her."
"Did you believe she was after his money?"
"No. My concern was about the family he might be connecting himself with."
"Our family!" she said indignantly. She fell silent for a moment, remembering how her mother and her sisters behaved at the Netherfield Ball. As much as she was unwilling to admit it, she knew he had a point. However, Jane's amiable qualities more than compensated for the shortcomings of the Bennet family.
He looked her steadily in the eyes. "I assure you I understand the error of my ways. If the connection is strong enough, nothing external might damage it."
"It is convenient you did not arrive at this understanding until after Jane was jilted."
"She was not jilted. There was no formal connection between the two of them."
"But we all knew there might be, if you had not colluded to remove him!"
"There was also no collusion. Only my silence."
"Sometimes silence is collusion enough, Mr. Darcy," she said angrily.
"Miss Elizabeth, if I could go back to that moment I would say something. I was wrong."
"You were. I am glad to hear you admit it."
They walked silently for a few moments. As they walked, Elizabeth realized Mr. Darcy believed he was keeping her from making a mistake, and he had gone out of his way to do so. Despite what might have happened with Jane, she did have to admit he seemed to be trying to do the right thing in regards to the Wickham situation.
Elizabeth took a breath to steady herself and chewed her lip. "Thank you for the frankness with which you spoke to me today. Please do not consider me ungrateful. After I have had time to think this through, I will certainly inform you if there is anything else I need."
"I shall leave you to your thoughts, then. Good day." He turned quickly and walked back towards Rosings. Elizabeth stared at his back, more confused than ever.
Elizabeth headed back to Hunsford and sat down to write to Jane. According to the last letter she received, Jane was back at Longbourn. Jane's visit to London had not yielded any more answers to the question of Mr. Bingley's quick departure. Jane called on Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst once, but it was clear they had no desire to see her, and they pleaded another engagement almost as soon as she arrived. That was the closest Jane had gotten to Mr. Bingley. In her letters, she sounded wistful, but aware of the reality of the situation. Mr. Bingley was lost to her. All this pointed to the fact Mr. Darcy told her the truth.
Elizabeth spent a good portion of the letter assuring Jane as to the terribleness of Mr. Bingley's sisters, with frequent assurances of Jane's own goodness; however, she did not mention what Mr. Darcy told her. A letter was not the place for that. Elizabeth hoped her sister would meet another amiable man soon, and put thoughts of Bingley quite out of her mind.
Elizabeth was anxious to discuss the Wickham situation with Jane, but she did not dare to write all of it out in a letter--what if it was intercepted? Instead, she told Jane about her conversation with Darcy, mentioning her disbelief at the civility of the conversation. She also hinted she had a matter of "utmost personal concern" she hoped to speak with Jane about immediately upon her return to Longbourn.
Elizabeth's trip was planned to last for one more week, and she was grateful for the time to sort her feelings out before Mr. Wickham would expect an answer from her. She considered what Darcy told her.
It seemed there were two possibilities: either Wickham was lying, or Darcy was. There was no way both of them could be telling the truth; their stories directly contradicted one another. So what did she know of the character of each of the men?
Wickham was witty and charming. Elizabeth spoke with him several times, and she had never detected any deceit in his voice. His stories sometimes seemed a bit exaggerated, but who did not enhance a story for the pleasure of the listeners? She recalled how he had been ready to defend her honor at the Netherfield Ball, and a smile touched her lips. However, since she had given the skeptical part of her mind a freer rein, she had to admit some of Wickham's actions came very close to impropriety, and had entered that territory on at least one occasion. Elizabeth wondered if a gentleman would be as forward with her as had Wickham.
That led her to consider Darcy. He was proud and aloof. Elizabeth could imagine Mr. Darcy coldly denying Wickham his living, although she knew well that just because something is imaginable does not make it true. Darcy did have a tendency to bluntness, as she saw during many of their conversations. He was uncomfortable talking about personal things. Elizabeth could not imagine him making up a story about his sister nearly being ruined just to spite Mr. Wickham; that story had been difficult for him to tell, and he did not seem the sort of man who would besmirch his sister's name in such a way.
Elizabeth rubbed her temples in frustration. She did not know who or what to believe. A week prior, she would have believed Mr. Wickham implicitly and based her evaluation of Mr. Darcy's story against the perceived truth of Mr. Wickham's. Now, she was much less certain. She would have spent the entire next week considering the merits of each recollection, had the letter from Jane not arrived the following day.
Chapter 18
"Lizzy! You received a letter from Jane," Kitty called into Elizabeth's room.