GEORGE WICKHAM FOUND, TO HIS great astonishment, that he missed Caroline Bingley somewhat. Not, perhaps, for her charm and personality, for those he discovered were more lacking than present, but for her constant and eager willingness to engage in whatever activity he had in mind. In the time they had known each other, she had proved an amusing lover, quick to learn and with an appetite that matched his own. He would regret it when he had to relinquish her, at last, to Darcy. He had considered keeping her on as his plaything, but this would place him too much in the vicinity of his nemesis, and what he wanted was revenge, not prolonged exposure. Further, Caroline was lovely to look at and delightful to bed, but she was a shrew, always ready to speak ill of others if it might further her own ends, too concerned with her place in the world and with what she might do to improve it. Even to him, George Wickham, her seducer and lover, she seldom had a pleasant word, unless she lay entwined with him under the covers in his rented rooms. No, he would find another amenable young woman to satisfy his lusts, one whom he might enjoy for her company outside of the bed chamber, one whom he liked as well as desired. And so much better that would be, for he could then rejoice in the firm knowledge of his success at finally having defeated his old playmate.
But his ultimate victory, while nigh, was not quite complete: first he must find Darcy and watch as he discovered how he had been betrayed. Only then could he enjoy the spectacle as the proud man crumbled at his feet, destroyed by the very people he thought he loved. Ah, that would be sweet victory indeed.
One problem remained: his prey seemed to have vanished. He was not with Caroline. That was certain. Caro was, at present, visiting her aunt in the north, having been sent thither once more by her brother. Why on earth the brother thought this a good idea so soon after the engagement had been announced, Wickham could not fathom, but the wealthy often did very strange things.
During their trysts the previous spring, Caro had related to him a great many details leading to her departure, lamenting her ill treatment at every turn. The apartments Charles had selected for her and her companion were nowhere near adequate in size for a lady of her status. When she complained, her brother suggested that they were the grandest she could afford on the interest from her dowry, but really, could Charles not have paid for better accommodations from his own coffers? Any caring brother ought to have done so! Leaving her to her own devices in this way was quite insupportable, and after all she had done for him over the years! Wickham had been surprised to find a modicum of sympathy for the woman over the abuses she suffered at her brother’s hand!
Worse, she had complained, none of her friends would deign to visit her there. The apartments were in a perfectly respectable part of town, despite their modest size and furnishings, and Caro could not think what kept society from her door. It must be the food, she decided. She did not have extensive kitchens, nor did she employ a trained chef as her brother did; therefore, if she wished to entertain and be seen, she must do so from Charles’ house. (All the better , Wickham considered, for the funds to come from Charles’ pockets than Caro’s allowance . He could see no fault in her plans at all.)
At first she would arrive in the mornings and sit with Dear Jane as she accepted company, presiding as mistress of the house in lieu of the new Mrs. Bingley. She would stay until after dinner, for why should Charles’ chef produce all that food for only two people? And if company should be expected, well surely that company would wish to see Caroline as well!
But these arrangements had their limitations, which the lady had lamented to her lover. When the Bingleys were invited out, Caroline was sent home to her apartments, almost as if she were not wanted. This was unacceptable! If Charles and Jane were to be out in society, she must be as well. How could her brother, whom she had cared for and sacrificed for, neglect her thus?
Wickham had observed that Caro never mentioned Darcy by name; she did not wish to discomfit him with news of her betrothed. It was a sweet action on the part of a rather selfish woman, and he appreciated it. This must be why she did not mention those evenings when she must have been out on Darcy’s arm. She never boasted of going to the opera with him, or to some grand society ball, or to cards at his noble relations. It could only be, Wickham considered, that she was protecting his sensibilities.
Once, and only once, had Wickham even dared to ask after Darcy. He had said nothing specific about the engagement or wedding, playing according to Caro’s rules, and had merely asked how the gentleman was doing. Caro’s response was simple. “Oh, yes, dear Mr. Darcy,” she had waved a hand in dismissal and said nothing more. It must be, Wickham assured himself, that Caro did not wish to remind him of her betrothal to another. This left Wickham feeling rather smug and pleased with himself, for after him, what possible good could Darcy be, other than a set of deep pockets? He felt somewhat more kindly towards Caroline at this, for how gratifying it was that when she spent time with him, Caro devoted herself entirely to his pleasure and would not allow other concerns to interfere in their trysts. Perhaps there was more to her than her obvious physical charms after all.
Despite this momentary lapse of her accustomed selfishness, Caroline had often voiced her frustration at her brother’s actions. Wickham knew he was adept at reading between the lines, and realised that whether she mentioned the man or not, Caro must think of her betrothed from time to time, at least. Surely, if she were excluded from Mr. and Mrs. Bingley’s engagements, she must still take steps to remain active in society when not on Darcy’s arm. This must be why she had abandoned her apartments and returned to Charles’ house. Now he and Jane must include her in their plans! And, as Caroline had whispered one lazy afternoon, now she could reassert herself as the true mistress of the house, for poor Jane did not run the household as it ought to be done!
But matters had not proceeded quite as Caro had anticipated. The new Mrs. Bingley had taken exception, it seemed, to her husband’s sister always being underfoot and at last, Charles Bingley had grown a spine. Wickham sniggered at the very concept, but it must be so. Caro had always joked about how malleable her brother was, how she could manage to convince him to do anything she desired. Alas, it appeared that Mrs. Bingley had a similar influence over the man, and hers, as his wife, was stronger.
Therefore Caroline was ordered out of the house and up to Scarborough, where she remained, presumably until her wedding.
Wickham could not determine from the letters why Caroline’s engagement to Darcy should be so drawn-out. As was her wont, she never mentioned anything relating to Darcy, and her wedding was no exception. Perhaps the man himself had other matters that needed attention before he could devote himself to a wife. His estates must be tended, his business affairs put in order. He might be planning a lengthy wedding trip, and a prolonged absence from his estate would require much advance preparation.
But now Darcy had disappeared and Caroline was gone to her aunt in the north, and corresponding was increasingly difficult. If Caro knew of Darcy’s whereabouts, she was silent on the matter. It was, perhaps, time to take other steps. Bringing himself back to the present, Wickham found the old military officer’s coat and hat that he had failed to return after his departure from the militia and pulled them on. He checked his appearance in the glass once more, and more than satisfied with his appearance, strode out of the door in search of information.
This information was not easily found at his usual tavern. Higgins, his sometime-confident, was not at his accustomed table, and there was no whisper in the air for Wickham to overhear. But there was Sanderson, over by the window. Wickham bought the man a pint of ale in exchange for rumour, and this proved somewhat lucrative. Sanderson seemed to know something about Colonel Fitzwilliam being in Town rather unexpectedly. The colonel had taken a prolonged leave from his military duties since his marriage and was expected to resign his commission shortly. Why he should be in London was a mystery, but one that could be solved with an appropriate ear at the appropriate door.
What Wickham discovered surprised him. He heard from the kitchen maid at the Duke of Bedford’s house, who had it from a chamber maid at the Baron de Morigne, who had it from her beau, a footman for Lord Malton, that someone named Liza had written, concerned that Darcy was not at Pemberley, where everybody thought he ought to be. Who Liza was, he cared little. He knew only that his prey seemed to have vanished. Could he be at Scarborough with Caroline? No, surely not, for if he were so eager to be in his future wife’s company, why delay the wedding?
Wickham was also certain that Darcy had not left England at this point, with his wedding approaching. Such news would have reached his ears, of this he was sure. And why, he wondered anew, was the couple separated thus? Could there have been some falling out already over Caro’s dalliances? There certainly had been no gossip that he had heard about the engagement being broken. It mattered not. For, as he contemplated affairs, Wickham thought he knew where Darcy was.
He recalled from his childhood a cottage in the woods on the Pemberley estate, and knew well that a man might live there in comfort for a time, if he were prepared to tend to his own needs. Food could be brought in, or purchased in the village by a willing servant or the master himself, in suitable disguise, and none need be any the wiser. Yes, he was certain! That was where Darcy lay concealed, and that was where he, too, must go!
After discovering her brother and Lizzy in the music room, Georgiana had demanded a full accounting of their past, and Mrs. Reynolds, acting as the mother hen for her adopted brood, had insisted on sitting in on the discussion. Lizzy could do nothing but provide them with the unvarnished truth of the affair, all the while Darcy sat back on a chair in the corner of the room looking distinctly uncomfortable. When she reached the part in the tale about his interference in the blossoming attachment between Richard and Charlotte, both Georgie and Mrs. Reynolds turned their most disapproving eyes upon him.
“Oh, Fitz, what on earth were you thinking? How could you?” Georgie wailed, whilst Mrs. Reynolds chided, “Really, Mr. Darcy, I thought you had been raised better than to make assumptions and go off on that high-handed way of yours! I am most sorely disappointed.” Darcy looked as if he wished to disappear through the floor.
Eventually the two decided to allow him to live, since Richard and Charlotte had ended up together, but they were still quite distressed on Lizzy’s behalf. “You seem to have forgiven him,” Georgie said, “but I do not see quite how. When you told me a gentleman had treated you ill, I had no idea how badly! In truth, I am surprised you even agreed to visit me that first day, knowing that I am his sister. Oh, dear Lizzy, there is so much goodness in you, to befriend a wretch like me, and be associated with a cad like him.” She narrowed her eyes and glared sidelong at her brother. “But you did forgive him, did you not? I mean, what I saw suggests…” She blushed a deep red and did not finish her thought.
Laughing, Lizzy replied, “I have such different accounts of your brother, and all from his own actions and behaviour, that I know not exactly what I think. But I am well considering forgiving him at least some of his misdeeds. Oh, do not try to look innocent, Fitz, for we all know you better than that!” she teased. “I suspect he has his redeeming qualities, should we search long and hard enough for them!” This earned a laugh from the assembled company, and the conversation continued.
“What happened after the ball?” Georgie asked. She was sitting at the edge of her sofa, her own woes temporarily forgotten.
“I returned to my aunt and uncle and your brother…”
“Desired some solitude,” Darcy concluded.
“No, I know that part,” Georgie chided. “I wish to know about the outcome of the ball, what the word has been in town. Do not scowl at me, Fitz! I was not out in society, but I have ears and I know how the gossipmongers work. Not a single event happens without it being chewed over once and again in every parlor in Town until the next piece of news arrives. What was said about the ball, about your engagement? That is what I wish to know!”
Lizzy turned to Darcy and he to her, their eyes meeting. Darcy shrugged. “I honestly cannot tell you, dearest. I had a… discussion with Richard the following morning and immediately left town. The cottage is rather secluded; I have received no news from Town at all. For all that I know of recent events, Bonaparte might have taken London, or given up all of his military ambitions to become a chorus singer at the Opéra. One wonders whether the devil can sing—”
“Nor do I know, Georgie.” This was a question Lizzy had asked herself many a time over the past four months. “The engagement was never officially called off, but all of London must know that the very morning after the ball, your brother and I went our separate ways. People surely must assume—”
“Nothing.” Mrs. Reynolds exclaimed. “I am certain they assume nothing. I have one or two fingers in the pie of Town gossip, and I have heard nothing. Oh,” she turned to Lizzy, “I had no notion when I met you in Lambton that you were Mr. Darcy’s betrothed, for my sources of gossip did not reveal that much, but I knew that the professor had entered into an engagement, and that there had been some irregularities after the ball. But that is not enough to set tongues wagging for more than the time it takes for tea to cool.”
Lizzy was as yet uncertain. “But it must have been known that we departed in opposite directions, and with no good will towards each other. There could be very few who believed us still to wish to wed.”
Mrs. Reynolds, however, demurred. “Not at all, my dear. A tiff, a lover’s spat, is quite the expected thing. I do believe, from the time I have spent in London before the most praiseworthy Mrs. Pearce took control of the townhouse, that your little contretemps will only have confirmed in the minds of the ton that yours is a love-match, and not some arrangement of convenience. Never mind the truth of the matter!” she added as an aside. “No, it is well established that every lady likes to be crossed in love at least once, and most especially by her betrothed. You are most assuredly still engaged, in the eyes of the ton , at the very least.”
Darcy let out a breath and allowed himself to fall back into his chair. Then his brows flicked upwards quickly and smirk appeared on his face. “What of it, Eliza? Until an announcement is published in the newspapers, telling all that our engagement is at an end and that we are both available for the ton’s matchmaking efforts once more, we are as good as wed in their estimation. Are we? Do tell me we are!”
Lizzy’s response was to roll her eyes at his impertinence, but she knew she had much thinking to do before she could discern her own mind.
“You can hardly expect me to answer you when you speak in that tone, and when your sister and Mrs. Reynolds are in the room!” Her words were accusatory, but her voice soft. “You will have to await my thoughts on the matter.”
What was not left to her will, however, was her place of abode in the area. The Gardiners’ visit to the area was at an end, for her uncle had business affairs to manage in London, and both sorely missed their children and wished to return to them. However, not a soul connected with the matter wished to remove Lizzy from her new friend Georgie, not when the girl was making such a recovery.
Further, Lizzy knew she could not return to Longbourn, but was reluctant to accept her aunt’s sincere invitation to reside with the family on a permanent basis. She adored the Gardiners, but she did not wish to interfere with their happily established family routines. Likewise, Lady Grant was quick to offer her a place with that family, but the objections remained the same; Lizzy was loath to become a burden to amiable couple, no matter how generous and sincere the invitation might be. This was not the offer of a season in Town, where the baronet and his wife would be engaged in their own social whirl, little encumbered by an addition to their party. Here, in the country, Lizzy would be an interloper in the quiet domesticity of their comfortable existence.
Consequently, when Georgie extended the invitation to relocate to Pemberley for the foreseeable future, Lizzy was happy to accept it. “You are my friend and my comfort,” Georgie exclaimed, “and your presence here is more to my benefit than yours.”
Darcy’s presence complicated the matter somewhat, but Lizzy was Georgie’s guest, not his, and Mrs. Reynolds’ reputation was well enough established in the area and in London that there could be no suggestion of any impropriety. “Miss Georgie and I shall be more than adequate chaperones, Miss Bennet,” the older lady informed her, “and it will only be expected that you will wish to learn something of the estate before you assume your role as its mistress. Oh, how well matters have worked themselves out!”
Consequently, as the Gardiners took their leave of the party at Pemberley, Lizzy’s trunks arrived at the manor house. Lady Grant and Mrs. Gardiner spirited Lizzy away for a final walk in the gardens, with the intention of assuring themselves that their friend was in complete agreement with the arrangements.
“You are certain you wish this, Lizzy?” Lady Grant asked with worried eyes as they strolled through the maze. “It is not altogether irregular, but I know your history with the professor has not been entirely calm. Are you certain you wish to stay in the same house as he?”
Lizzy was resolute. “He has never given me cause to worry, Lady Grant. He has given me plenty of cause to be angry and irritated and annoyed, but never worried. And I am here with my friend, and she shall protect me against whatever foul words her brother throws my way.”
“You are quite set on this plan, then?” her aunt inquired.
At Lizzy’s definite nod, Lady Grant declared, “Then I am happy for you. But know this, my dear: You are welcome back at Arlenby at any time. I shall let all my staff know that you are to be admitted and welcomed, no matter the day or hour. We are close at hand, and we shall be your safe refuge if you require it. ”
For the first time in her life, Lizzy was overwhelmed by the concern and care shown her by her family and friends. Not even in her childhood at Longbourn had she felt so cherished and cared for. At home, her mother always compared her unfavourably to Jane’s beauty or Lydia’s liveliness, and her father was always, at best, distracted and complacent. Lizzy had been left largely to her own devices. Now she was desired and cared for by not one family, but two. To have two sets of friends and relations all most concerned about her wellbeing was something unknown to her. It was a revelation, and while somewhat disconcerting, Lizzy appreciated what it was to be loved for her own sake by everyone around her.
Thus Lizzy took up residence at Pemberley. How her mother would have been amazed to see her least favourite daughter so well established. She was installed in a small suite of rooms next to Georgie’s, with beautiful furnishings and her own sitting room and washing room, and she was treated as well by the excellent staff as was the young Miss Darcy herself.
It did not take long for her to settle into her new routines. As the doctor had predicted, the trajectory of Georgiana’s recovery was not smooth and constant. Some days saw her returned almost to the girl she had been before the events of the previous summer, as she laughed and teased with her brother and friend—after she had forgiven them their deception, of course. Other days were more of a reversal, when she rose only with difficulty and could scarcely summon a frown, let alone the first bit of interest in events around her. But the doctor was not concerned, and he could see that overall, she was on her way to recovery. Miss Bennet’s constant presence, he also added, was of great benefit in assisting in Miss Darcy’s amelioration of spirits, for it had been Miss Bennet who had initiated the young lady’s return to health.
Thus, the small group quickly attained a comfortable rhythm in their daily affairs. Lizzy learned her way around the massive house and discovered untold joys in the vast library and music room, Georgie slowly healed and could be seen more and more often downstairs and in conversation with the others, and Darcy set about actively wooing and courting his Eliza, whom he seemed determined to have accept him at last. Lizzy found the latter amusing, but also flattering to a great degree, and she found his efforts touching and pleasing, if perhaps a bit obvious and even laughable at times. Here, in his country home, the professor was a different man, at ease with himself and his companions, full of humour and intelligent conversation, almost devoid of the arrogance and contempt she had seen in Town. All were content.
This idyll of domestic tranquility lasted a week.
The first intimation of trouble ahead came with an innocuous ring at the front door, early on a grey morning. Lizzy had been up for a while and had taken some air in the lovely gardens before the rains would inevitably begin, and she had just taken her breakfast plate when Mrs. Reynolds threw open the door and announced, “Alfred, Viscount Eynshill.”
“Freddy!” She leapt up from her chair.
In three long strides, he was there before her. “Elizabeth!” He stood very still as he gazed at her, then pulled her into a hug which he quickly released. “Oh, what an unexpected surprise and joy to see you here! But… what are you doing here? Is everything well with your family? Lady Grant is well? The Gardiners? Oh no… is it Georgiana?” Concern and confusion warred across his pleasant face.
“All is well, Freddy. Everybody is well, even poor Georgie. She improves daily, and will as like as not be downstairs before long to take her chocolate and toast.”
“Oh, thank God,” he released his breath, his entire body shuddering off suppressed tension. “But then why are you here? I am, of course, more than delighted to see you so soon after my arrival. Oh, I have missed you, Lizzy. London is not the same without you in it. The whole town pines for you.”
Suppressing a laugh at his exaggeration, she replied, “I came here, at first, at the express request of Mrs. Reynolds. She had no notion who I was, besides a lady who enjoyed reading. She believed I might be of some help to Georgiana, and it seems she was correct. I do not know that I did more than anyone else might have done, but your young cousin is much more her old self. When my aunt and uncle returned to London, she and Mrs. Reynolds requested that I stay for a time.” She wondered how to approach the topic of her ambiguous relationship with Georgie’s brother.
But Freddy spoke before she could. “And what of my cousin, Fitz? Has anyone had word of him? He is well able to fend for himself, but we are concerned, most concerned.”
“Your cousin is well,” came a voice from the door. The speaker was in Lizzy’s sightline, but Freddy had to spin around to reassure himself his identity.
“Darcy, you dog!” he fairly shouted in the anger born of great relief. “Where in blazes have you been? Sorry, Lizzy,” he apologised for his oath. “You had us all scared that something terrible had befallen you.”
“I never invited you to worry, Freddy.” Darcy’s eyes were narrow and his voice tight as he glared at the newcomer. Then he took a deep breath and added, “I took shelter in Mother’s old cottage. It has a stable for my horse, and I rode not into Lambton for my supplies, but into Berndale, in the valley yonder, where I am not so well known. People see what they expect to see, and dressed as a farmer, and able to take on the local accent at will, I passed quite easily.”
“Then why,” Freddy demanded, “have you returned now?”
Darcy looked over at Lizzy, and he eased from the doorway into the room. “I had better reasons to return home than to remain in seclusion. I had hidden myself away after that awful ball, after Richard, and then Eliza, and then you had all abused me so badly. No, no, I deserved what you said, and I needed solitude to think. The cottage has always given me comfort, and it beckoned me thither. But then I saw Eliza here, bringing life to my sister, and I felt hope once more.”
Freddy eyed his cousin warily. “And what of you, Lizzy? Are you happy with this scoundrel, who treats the most worthy ladies like so much dirt, to be used to suit his will and then to be discarded like yesterday’s newspaper? Do you stay for his sake? Do you remain whilst he plays the gentlemen, never knowing when he will turn once more into the selfish and arrogant boor you saw in Town? I was there, Elizabeth, after the ball, and I saw what he did to you.”
“Freddy….” Darcy growled.
“What of it, Fitz? Do I not speak truth? Can I allow you to harm this lovely lady once more? Or need I play the gallant knight once again, come to rescue her from the fire-breathing Dragon de Pemberley?” The two men glared at each other, and Lizzy was put in mind of two curs circling each other in anticipation of a fight. She was, indeed, half-afraid that they would come to blows, when to her great gratitude, Georgiana entered the room. It was one of her better days and she looked very well.
Freddy immediately turned his expression to one of joy and greeted the girl with all the love a cousin should hold for another. “Georgie!” he beamed, “You look marvelous, so improved from when you stayed with Mother not so long ago! What a wonderful treat for my tired eyes. How are you feeling, my dear?”
“Freddy!” Georgie launched herself at him, and he caught her and swung her around in a circle as if she were a much younger child. Her feet missed hitting the sideboard upon which the various breakfast dishes sat by inches, and Darcy dashed over to hover protectively over his coffee and eggs. Georgie was bubbling in excitement. “When did you arrive? Surely only moments ago! As you see, I am out of the depths of my darkest moments. I feel almost myself again. Come, let me call for a cup for you so you may take coffee. Or would you prefer tea or chocolate? Did Mrs. Reynolds see you? Has she given you a room? Tell me about your journey!”
Darcy cast one more baleful eye upon his cousin before taking a chair much closer to Lizzy than was strictly necessary and starting in on his own morning meal, allowing Georgie to monopolise the newcomer’s time.
With the arrival of Freddy at Pemberley, the mood of the house changed. The easy companionship that had developed between the two Darcy siblings and their guest was suddenly replaced by a tension born of two acknowledged rivals in the same house as the object of their attentions, and Lizzy felt distinctly ill at ease.
Darcy redoubled his efforts in playing the suitor, doting on Lizzy’s every word, laughing at her jokes, bringing her drinks and flowers and offering to escort her on walks and drives around the property. He pulled from his library shelves copies of books and poetry he knew she liked, and went to great lengths to engage her in the deep discussions of literature and philosophy in which she had expressed interest.
Freddy, on the other hand, polished his performance as the dashing aristocrat, talking of the delights of Town, of what he could do for her, of how he would ensure that never again would anybody slight her or make fun of her or otherwise treat her as anything less than the jewel she was. “You, my dear Lizzy, are as an emerald—rare and brilliant, with a beauty that transports men to verse. See how well we look together, you and I. I would even purchase you a horse in a colour exactly like your hair! How splendid you would be upon its back! We would be the darlings of London!”
Although somewhat flattered by the attention, Lizzy found it, for the most part, tiring and infuriating, and expressed a wish on more than one occasion to return to Arlenby until the two men could learn to deal amicably together. It was only when she appealed to both men to restrain their rivalry for the sake of Georgiana that matters settled somewhat and an uneasy truce was declared.
The second sign of trouble rode in two days later on a fine black horse.
It was mid-morning, after the company had breakfasted, and they had all repaired to their individual rooms to prepare for the rest of the day. Still uneasy about the tension between Darcy and Freddy, Lizzy had left her chambers to seek out Mrs. Reynolds, hoping to discuss with the sensible housekeeper what to do about the situation.
The housekeeper was not in her offices, but a kitchen maid suggested that she had gone to supervise the cleaning of some of the rooms in the guest wing. Lizzy’s route took her past the balcony that presided over the main entrance to the house, and since the sky was clear and the vista fine, she stopped at the great glass doors for a moment to take in the scenery.
It was from there that she saw the horseman approach. He galloped up with a steady and confident seat, and she stood admiring his form on horseback. Then the man pulled his fine steed to a stop and removed his hat, and for the first time Lizzy saw his face. She forgot immediately about Darcy and Freddy and their squabble, and with a gasp, ran off to alert everyone to the identity of the interloper.