A Father's Sins: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 6
Elizabeth slammed the door on the way out. The release of her pent up emotions was freeing. She heard her father yell, “We shall see about that!” Climbing the stairs to Jane’s room, she wondered at Jane’s comments about Mr. Collins. How she could feel that he would be a good match for her was a mystery. Good heavens!
She tapped on Jane’s door and met with silence. She tried the knob and found it locked from the inside. Elizabeth sighed, dropping her head. Bringing her hand up to rub the tension from the back of her neck, she pondered her next move. It was apparent that Jane must have heard at least part of the argument and decided to distance herself from Elizabeth. She had thought that her older sister had gone immediately upstairs after entering Longbourn.
Moving down the hall, she went to her old room. Standing before the door she took in several deep breaths before turning the knob. It turned easily. Stepping inside, Elizabeth was shocked to her bones. Standing in the middle of the floor were her valise and apothecary case. Gone was her old bed, the pictures on the wall, her bureau and the many treasures she had collected from her youth. Gone was any evidence that it had ever been her room. With the exception of her valise and case, it was completely and totally empty – as if she had never existed. Taking her valise in one hand and her apothecary case in the other, she gently closed the door, walked down the stairs and out the front door.
CHAPTER FIVE
Meryton, Hertfordshire
The mile long walk into Meryton allowed Elizabeth’s temper to cool. It was a bit chilly and dampness filled the air. Why Mrs. Bennet insisted on Jane riding horseback to Netherfield Park, for Elizabeth was certain it had been at Mrs. Bennet’s manipulation, was not a mystery to one who had long been concerned with marrying her daughters to anyone deemed acceptable by that woman. It was apparent that she had set her sights on Mr. Bingley as Jane’s intended. It would truly be a good match. Notwithstanding, Mr. Collins was another matter entirely. His only recommendation was that he was heir to Longbourn. Elizabeth vowed to herself to look forward from that moment on and not dwell on what might have been. All hopes of reestablishing a relationship with her immediate family were gone. However, it was not in her nature to be angry for long.
A pleasant greeting took her out of her dull mood. Looking up, she spotted her good friend Charlotte Lucas and her maid walking toward her. Charlotte, at seven and twenty years, was the eldest child of Sir William Lucas and Lady Lucas of Lucas Lodge. Though considered plain in appearance by Mrs. Bennet, she was a delightfully pleasant woman who was loyal in her friendship and gifted at putting others at ease. Greeting her friend with a wide smile and outstretched hands, they embraced, holding tightly to each other.
“Charlotte Lucas,” Elizabeth hugged her again. “I could not have come upon another person in the world that I wanted to see more than you today. How are you and your family?”
Charlotte well knew the challenges that Elizabeth would face coming back to Longbourn. Elizabeth’s parents seemed blind to the disrepair to their home and family name that now existed in the neighborhood because of neglect and unconcern. They also seemed unaware of the desperation they displayed at securing their home for the future. Charlotte’s brother, Robert, always held Elizabeth in affection, having been constant playmates as children. Yet, he balked at coming to see her when he considered that Mrs. Bennet might take extreme measures to secure a son.
“We are well, Lizzy.” Charlotte noted her friend’s luggage and realized that the meeting had gone as she expected. “May I walk with you into Meryton? I am going to see the seamstress for a fitting of a new gown.”
“I would be well pleased in your doing so, Charlotte.” She sighed heavily. “You have a quick, intelligent mind so must have already concluded that I am in need of transport back to Uncle Gardiner’s house in London. I shall not be marrying my father’s cousin, Mr. Collins.” Turning to chuckle with Charlotte, “Now, there is a single man in want of a wife. I do not know what his circumstances are, however, should you still have your unromantic inclinations toward finding a husband and having your own home, please feel free, dear Charlotte. I have no claim on him and he certainly has no claim on me.”
It was said in jest; yet in spite of that, Charlotte longed to be established in her own home. As Elizabeth said, it truly mattered not how or who it was that brought those circumstances about. Charlotte had never been a romantic; instead was pragmatic with her circumstances. She certainly could do worse than Mr. Collins.
Charlotte stopped and turned to her good friend. “If you truly do not mind, dear friend, I shall call on Longbourn, after I visit the dressmaker, to offer comfort to a disappointed suitor.”
“Not at all, Charlotte, I wish you joy and a long, happy life.” Elizabeth recognized that Charlotte feared being a burden to her family more than she feared an unequal marriage. She longed to spend more time with her friend, but needed to reach the coaching Inn so she could catch the post coach to town. It was, weather permitting, a four hour trip and, if delayed too long, she would arrive after dark had set in when the potential for danger and injury were greater. They hugged tightly and promised to continue their correspondence. Upon releasing one another from the firm embrace, Charlotte turned to go to the dressmaker while Elizabeth set her sights to walk the remaining short distance to Meryton.
“Pardon me, Miss Lucas; are you and your family well today?” So distracted in their parting they had failed to notice the arrival of one of the officers in the militia. Elizabeth and Charlotte turned to face a tall, handsome Lieutenant.
“My family is well, Lt. Wickham.” Charlotte turned to address her recent acquaintance. “Lt. Wickham, may I present to you a close friend of mine, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Lizzy, this is Lt. George Wickham, originally from Derbyshire, and now of the militia stationed here in Meryton.”
Elizabeth was stunned. This had to be Georgiana’s older brother. He resembled Mr. Darcy only in his stature and hair color. Lt. Wickham’s hair was straight where Mr. Darcy’s was wavy and Lt. Wickham’s eyes were blue. Crystal clear eyes which were piercingly cold, as if seeking to expose any weakness or vulnerability in a potential victim. They had none of the warmth that Elizabeth had noticed in Mr. Darcy’s dark eyes.
Though wary, Elizabeth determined to appear that she had no prior knowledge of the man. She knew he was not a gentleman but curtsied as if he were. Before she could fashion a reply to his terse greeting, the sound of rapid hoof beats reached the three of them. All three turned at the sound.
Mr. Darcy was in the lead, charging toward them. He yelled back for Mr. Bingley to restrain Georgiana from approaching. From the distance, Georgiana must have recognized the officer for she stopped her horse without questioning her brother’s directive. Anger and disgust radiated from Mr. Darcy as he reached them. He politely, but stiffly, greeted the ladies then turned his full attention to his half-brother.
“Wickham,” he barked at the Lieutenant, “why are you here?” No greeting preceded the question, though it would have surprised Elizabeth had there been offered any courtesy to the older brother by his younger sibling. While Elizabeth expected animosity, Charlotte Lucas did not. During social occasions, Mr. Darcy had not recommended himself well to the neighborhood, but there had never been unfriendliness or rude behavior. It was as if he was awkward when surrounded by people he was not acquainted with. This display of emotions seemed out of character for Mr. Darcy. His eyes blazed with anger and intolerance. Uncomfortably aware that she was intruding on a private moment, Charlotte dismissed herself to visit the seamstress, already making plans for her new dress to be worn to Longbourn. None of the three left behind were even aware that she had gone.
Wickham stared at his younger brother with intense hatred in his eyes. He looked past Darcy to Georgiana and his expression never changed. Without responding to his brother’s inquiry, Lt. Wickham spun around and walked away. It had happened so quickly that Elizabeth had not had an opportunity to excuse herself. She looked to Mr. Darcy, who had dis
mounted.
“Miss Elizabeth, I do apologize for my abrupt manner. My sister made me aware this morning that she had discussed with you our particular family situation. I regret that you were so forcefully confronted with the animosity that continues to exist.” He seemed to notice that Elizabeth was carrying the very luggage that she had left Netherfield Park with in her hands. “Miss Elizabeth, may I be of assistance?”
With Lt. Wickham’s departure, Mr. Bingley and Georgiana rode closer. Elizabeth set her case and valise on the ground.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am on my way to the Inn to arrange transportation to London. It appears that my services and my presence are no longer needed, or wanted, at Longbourn. I am only sorry that I was not able to distance myself from your confrontation, sir.” Looking to Georgiana, she inquired if she was well. The young girl was pale and her horse, sensing her agitation, was stomping his feet on the ground in need of soothing. Georgiana was an excellent horsewoman, but dismounted, quickly handing her reins to her brother. She walked into Elizabeth’s waiting arms. Elizabeth held her tight until she felt Georgiana regain control.
“William, what is George doing here?” Georgiana’s voice was just as shaky as her body had been.
“Georgie, it appears that he has joined the militia.” Her brother stepped closer with the two horses trailing behind. “We need to remove ourselves from Meryton.” His decision was firm.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy caught her attention, “I am aware that what I am about to suggest is against all that is proper, however, my sister and I would be pleased to provide transportation to town. With George Wickham here we can remain in Hertfordshire only at our peril. Please allow us to escort you to the Inn. If you will await us there, we shall return to Netherfield Park where we will be packed and leaving within the hour.” Looking to Mr. Bingley, he requested, “If you would, please, ride to your estate to inform our servants that we will be leaving as soon as they are prepared? My sister and I will escort Miss Elizabeth and then ride to Netherfield Park to ready our departure.”
Elizabeth’s cases were firmly attached to Mr. Darcy’s saddle. The walk was quick and silent. Mr. Darcy felt the need to apologize again to Miss Elizabeth for her being witness to him acting in an un-gentlemanlike manner. What must she think of him?
Mrs. Nicholls, when made aware of the immediate departure of the Netherfield guests, hastened to instruct Mr. and Miss Darcy’s servants while arranging for a food basket and extra blankets for their travels. It wasn’t long before all was in order and they were ready to depart.
Military Barracks, London – Earlier that morning
“Colonel Forster, what brings you to London? I had heard you were in the country training the best of England’s men to protect the land from the French.” Colonel Fitzwilliam, cousin to the Darcys, shared guardianship with Darcy of Georgiana. George Darcy recognized early on that Richard Fitzwilliam’s personality was the perfect foil for his son’s seriousness and this would benefit his daughter greatly. The Colonel was a jovial sort, the second son of the Earl of Smithton, who had risen through the ranks of officers by courage and bravery during several military campaigns on the continent. Only one year older than his cousin, Darcy, he was worldly in his outlook and habits. He had known Colonel Forster for several years and they had a camaraderie typical of men whose life was uncertain from one breath to the next. Both had distinguished themselves in battle and bore the physical and emotional scars that created a close bond.
“I am assigned to a small village in Hertfordshire, Meryton.” Colonel Forster accepted the glass of brandy pilfered from Darcy’s London house. It was hard to get good brandy with the blockades keeping smugglers from the English coast. Darcy had put aside a large supply when tensions were relaxed between France and England and Colonel Fitzwilliam was known to smuggle his needs from Darcy’s cellar when his cousin was out of town. Darcy was not yet aware that his legally obtained goods were involved in his cousin’s breaking and entering. Until he discovered the crime, Colonel Fitzwilliam savored each bottle with a wicked chuckle. “By the way, one of my new lieutenants is from the area around Matlock. He claims he’s the heir to Pemberley. Name’s George Wickham. Is he known to you?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s reaction was instantaneous and fierce. He knew that both of his cousins were in the Meryton area of Hertfordshire. That Wickham was in the vicinity posed a serious threat to Georgiana. “Please be reassured, Colonel Forster, that you will not have to deal with scum like Wickham any longer. If you would please excuse me, I need to ride immediately to Meryton to warn my cousins of his presence. Wickham will run with his tail between his legs when he sees me and I do not expect him to stop until he’s in America.”
After a quick word to his commanding officer, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam jumped on his horse and raced as quickly as possible out of London.
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire
Miss Bingley was horrified that the Darcys were leaving and that they were taking Elizabeth Bennet with them. She had been certain that she would be able to finally demonstrate to Mr. Darcy that she was his best choice for Mistress of Pemberley. Without doubt, he had to have observed her skill in managing a household and staff as well as her efficient care of Miss Bennet while she had been ill. In addition, she had endeavored to provide Mr. Darcy all his favorite foods, drinks, and entertainments as well as pay particular attention to his sister.
After extending their regrets at leaving so abruptly, they boarded the carriage and left Netherfield Park. No explanations had been given other than urgent business in London and Miss Caroline Bingley had to accept that this was all she would be given to understand. Her own brother was silent on the matter.
Tension filled the carriage until they stopped in the village of Meryton. Elizabeth’s luggage was quickly loaded. Mr. Darcy had elected to lower the shades so that Wickham would not be seen by the two female occupants; thus it was gloomy and quiet inside. Elizabeth reached beside her and took Georgiana’s hand in hers, squeezing it in gentle comfort. Georgiana grasped her hand with both of hers and whispered her thanks. Once they passed the noise of the village, Mr. Darcy raised the blinds and all three expelled the breaths they had been unaware they were holding.
“Miss Elizabeth!” started Georgiana when they heard the sound of gunfire and the carriage jerked to a halt. Georgiana never finished her thought as a man’s strong voice yelled to the coachman.
“Stand and deliver!”
A lone horseman rode to the side of the carriage and rapped on the door with the butt of his pistol. “Get outside the carriage, all of you!” When they failed to move as quickly as he wanted, he hit the side of the coach again. “Now!” Then he pointed his pistol inside, not at Mr. Darcy nor to Elizabeth. The highwayman’s pistol was pointed directly at the side of Georgiana’s head. As his horse moved closer, his face came into view. It was the older Darcy brother; George Wickham. Georgiana screamed and fainted.
CHAPTER SIX
On the road to London, outside of Meryton, Hertfordshire
Wickham had no tolerance for the weakness of his little sister. He had no tolerance for anything or anyone who came between him and his goal. Kidnapping Georgiana and turning her over to the cur who was willing to marry her for a large cash payment would allow him the freedom from a heavy debt owed to the wrong people and the revenge on Darcy that he so desired. He hated Darcy. Hated him for being designated the heir and denying him Pemberley and the wealth of the estate. Hated him for the respect their father gave to his youngest son; respect that should have gone to the rightful heir. Wickham had nothing against Georgiana personally. In spite of that, right now his needs far outweighed his moral obligation to care for her. “Get her out of the carriage, now!”
Darcy knew that his coachman was armed. He also knew that this same coachman would never do anything to jeopardize the young sister of his master. Therefore, as long as Wickham was a threat to Georgiana, there would be no interference. He looked at his precious
sister and knew he would do anything to protect her and that he would never allow Wickham to harm her. In all her fifteen years, he had never known her to faint. The terror of this situation was tremendous. Gathering his sister in his arms, he carried her outside the carriage. Elizabeth followed. Mr. Darcy held his sister tight to his chest, his right arm behind her back and his left behind her knees.
“Give her to me,” Wickham demanded.
“I shall not!” Mr. Darcy fixed his dark stare on Wickham’s face. All the years of humiliation as he watched his father indulge George Wickham, all the times he had to step back as his father thrust George into the front light, all of the times he was bullied by this wicked man came to the surface and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy had had enough. “You shall get nothing from me.”
“I shall take what is mine.” Confidence that he had the upper hand was evident in his countenance. “Now, give her to me or I shoot you both and then I get it all. Your choice, Darcy.” He waved the pistol at his younger brother and the bloodlust was evident in his eyes. The pistol he had already discharged was now tucked into his belt and the grip on the loaded pistol was firm.