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“Come, Darcy, you need not be stoic with me. Now that the ladies are settled in their rooms - rooms far pleasanter than I expected from a countryside inn, I might add - let us speak truthfully. Have you seen Anne? How does she fare?”
“Not here.” Darcy glanced over his shoulder, noting the practised disinterest of a fellow patron of the inn’s dining facilities. On his arrival in the small border town, Darcy had been so eager to seek information of Anne and Wickham’s whereabouts that he had not been particularly concerned who he spoke to of the matter, but now that he knew all, he preferred to keep his thoughts to himself, to ensure his cousin’s fate did not become idle gossip and, lately, to ensure his own words were not fed back to Wickham himself over the card table. “How are you rested, yourself, Charles? Might we walk?”
Bingley insisted he was eager for some exercise, having spent much of the past days cooped up in a carriage, or on the box next to a driver, with his long legs folded beneath him, and the two men began at a pace that had them at the edge of the small town in minutes, soon surrounded by hills and with the purple ridges of mountains in the distance.
“I have seen Anne,” Darcy said, returning to Charles’ question without the need of prompting. “And she seems well enough in spirit. She insists on her contentment with her decision, although she does at least regret their secrecy.” He groaned. “She insists she is happy.”
Charles frowned.
“You do not believe her?”
Darcy shook his head.
“I believe she thinks she is happy. At the moment perhaps she is, but how long that state of affairs may be relied upon, I do not know.” He did his best to summarize the conditions his cousin and her new husband were living in, illustrating the difference between Anne’s current state and her previous life.
“It is not ideal...” Charles mused. “Might something not be done for them?”
Darcy’s eyes flashed upwards, regarding his friend with suspicion.
“What more might be done? I have attempted to appease Wickham before, in light of his misdeeds. It had little enough effect on his character if this latest scrape is anything to judge.”
Charles sighed, turning his countenance away and regarding the distant mountains.
“Perhaps you do not do it for Wickham. Your words, your worry, and Elizabeth’s too, has all been for Anne. So why not let your compassion for your cousin dictate your actions? If they are married -” he glanced at Darcy, whose barely perceptible nod indicated this was true. “If they are married, then there is no help for one that will not help the other.”
Darcy snorted. He put rather less stock in helping Wickham than did his friend. What was to say, once he got hold of whatever money Darcy could quickly scrounge up for them, he would not disappear, abandoning Anne to her shame and her fate?
“Have you spoken to the man?” Charles asked, watching Darcy’s reaction carefully.
“He was there when I first called on Anne,” Darcy said, dismissively. “We have spoken a handful of times.”
“Alone?”
Darcy frowned.
“What difference does that make?”
“You said yourself, he is a master of deceit. You, knowing him, might recognise his falsehoods, but he is surely eager to display a certain persona to his new wife, even more so when you are present. How, then, can you seek to determine his true intentions with Anne there? No, Darcy, you must speak to him alone, man to man.” Charles laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And I will accompany you. Do not misunderstand me: I know you are angry with him, and I can see how dearly you would love to take the fellow’s head off, but that is not the way to handle such a man. Can you see what injury calling Wickham out would cause to your cousin?” He drew his lips into a line. “And think, Darcy, if the worst was to happen and Wickham be killed, t’would not solve anything, Anne would be left a widow, and still saddled with scandal, and no husband by her side to help her to bear it.”
A small smile played about Darcy’s lips, as he regarded his friend.
“Since when have you become so wise?”
“Wise?” Charles shook his head. “You have called me many things, Darcy. I do not believe wise has ever been amongst them.”
“And yet today I use the word freely. I am grateful, Charles, for your presence here, although I am sorry for the discomfort of travelling so far, so quickly.”
“What discomfort?” His friend shrugged his shoulders, with a laconic half-smile. “It is not as if I had some special concern keeping me in London, now that Miss Bennet - that is, now that Christmas is over and done. I intended to come north in the new year, in any case, this is but a few extra miles, and that is hardly worth acknowledging when the need is so acute.”
Darcy nodded, knowing that his friend would not thank him for any further show of gratitude or emotion.
“I am glad you were able to accompany Elizabeth on such a journey.” His lips quirked. “And your sister, too.”
At this, Bingley laughed, and Darcy was cheered by the sound.
“Caro was furious to be dragged along.” He rolled his eyes skywards. “In truth, I do not know why she was so determined to come with us. I certainly offered her escape on more than one occasion. We might even have detoured home, had she wished it, but she was adamant to continue on.” He rubbed the back of his neck, thoughtfully, “It did not stop her complaining, however, about the discomforts of such a journey, or the speed with which we progressed.” He blinked. “I hope a few hours’ rest will have improved her temperament a little when next we meet.”
“Come, Charles,” Darcy said. “It is too cold to stand still. Let us walk on, and continue to talk. You must advise me further on how best to handle Wickham, for I wager your wisdom far exceeds mine in this instance...”
***
TAP TAP TAP.
Elizabeth ignored the sound, keeping her attention fixed on the page before her. When Darcy had suggested she rest, as Caroline intended to do, she had been poised to refuse, to argue that she was in no more need of rest than either of the gentlemen and indeed would much prefer to remain with them. Her own body had betrayed her, though, and it had been at that precise moment that she had struggled to stifle a yawn, which had been met with amusement from her husband, and an insistence that she returned to their room immediately for an hour.
I promise nothing will happen in your absence, he had said. And if it looks likely to, I shall send for you immediately.
Reluctantly, then, she had agreed, but upon reaching the room Darcy had taken for himself found she was unable to sleep, and whilst her limbs ached, her mind was active still. She reached for a book, and although she was struggling to lose herself in its pages as thoroughly as she might have done at home, it at least provided a worthy distraction from concerns about Anne. With regards to her husband her mind was clear, at last, for she had guessed from the wistful look he had offered on their parting that like her, he was reluctant to bid farewell to the wife he had so recently reunited with.
Tap tap tap. The sound came again, and this time Lizzy lifted her head, certain the sound came from the door to this particular room. She frowned. Why would Darcy feel the need to knock at the door of his own room?
“I am not asleep if that is what gives you pause. You need not fear to wake me!” she chided, as she stood and made her way to the entrance, pulling the door open with a smile, which froze when she beheld who stood at the threshold, an elegant hand lifted as if to knock a third time. “Miss Bingley!”
“You need not look so surprised to see me,” Caroline said, coldly. “Or have you been so enraptured at being once more in Mr Darcy’s presence that you forget those of us who made the journey at your side?” She did not add the words Lizzy knew she intended. Whether we wished to travel or not.
“I am surprised,” Elizabeth said, quickly. “But not at your presence: rather, at your presence here. I was under the impression that you were tired and had retired to your room in search of sleep.”
“Sleep?” Caroline paused. “Well, yes. It is true that the journey did exhaust me, for you know I am not possessing of an incredibly strong countenance....”
“Then you must return to bed, Miss Bingley, and rest, for the gentlemen will wish to see us both well upon their return.”
“Oh, but I could not sleep at a time like this!” Caroline insisted, brightening immediately as she spoke. “Indeed, I cannot imagine you are able to, either, with poor Miss de Bourgh’s fate uppermost in your mind.”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth said, with a canny look at her travelling companion. Caroline’s eyes were wide, her expression the very picture of concern for their friend, yet Lizzy fancied it was the scandal, the potential for gossip, that urged Miss Bingley into action.
“I felt sure you would be unable to rest until you had seen her for yourself, and I know you will not want to travel alone. Besides,” she beamed. “Is not it pleasanter to call on our friend as two ladies, without the gentlemen along to complicate matters?”
Elizabeth ought to refuse, feeling certain at that moment that escorting Caroline Bingley to the home that Anne and Wickham shared would not please her husband, yet she was equally certain that if she refused, then Caroline would contrive to go alone, and who knew what upset her presence would cause to poor Anne. If Elizabeth was with her, at least she might temper Caroline’s caustic attitude with some compassion. And, as much as it pained her to admit it, Miss Bingley was right. Lizzy did struggle to rest without seeing for herself Anne’s true condition. She fancied the two had formed a close friendship and wished to reassure herself that Miss de Bourgh - Mrs Wickham, as she now was - did not suffer unduly on account of her rash flight to Scotland.
“I appreciate your concern, Miss Bingley -”
“Caroline,” Caroline put in. “I do think we might abandon all pretence of formality between us, Eliza dear, in the circumstances, do not you think?”
“Very well.” Elizabeth stretched her lips in an obedient smile. “I appreciate your concern Caroline, but I do not see how it will be possible for us to call on Mr and Mrs Wickham without a note of their address.”
“Oh, but I have just such a note!” Caroline lifted her other hand, triumphantly clutching a scrap of paper bearing Mr Bingley’s handwriting. “My brother left it amongst his belongings and I wished to ensure it was not lost.”
Lizzy’s eyebrow arched at this delicate description of Caroline’s sifting through her brother’s belongings. Surely Bingley was unaware of his sister’s activities, for he clearly had not intended her to have the address, or he would have given it to her himself.
“If you would prefer to stay here...” Caroline began, deciding Elizabeth at once on a course of action.
“I do not prefer it,” Elizabeth said, quickly. “Only permit me a moment to dress and I will join you.” She closed the door on Caroline’s satisfied smirk and hurried to locate her pelisse and bonnet, hurrying out a note to Darcy as she did so.
Dearest,
I am accompanying Caroline Bingley to call on Anne. Forgive me if this was not your desire, but I must see for myself that she is alright, and dare not allow Caroline to go alone. We shall not be gone long.
Signing the note with a scribble, she left it propped up on the pillow, where Darcy was sure to see it if he returned before them. She scooped her book into her arms, wishing she had something more appropriate for a wedding gift.
“There you are, Eliza,” Caroline said, as the door flew open once more. “I half anticipated you had returned to slumber and I would be forced to make a call alone. Come, let us hurry before the gentlemen return to spoil our plans!”