Mr Bennet Takes Charge Read online

  “I apologize, Mr. Darcy. There was no intent to discompose you.”

  “Perhaps there was not.” The gentleman again fell silent for a moment, weighing his response. When he spoke, he confirmed her conjecture, but surprised her at the same time.

  “There have been misunderstandings between us aplenty, Miss Bennet, and I would prefer to speak plainly to ensure I am understood. Your reproofs at Hunsford were correct, and I have attempted to amend my behavior in the time since. Nothing has changed with respect to my feelings for you, but this time I would prefer to allow my actions to speak to my attentions, with an eye toward showing you the true measure of my character. That is, if you will allow it.”

  They were, perchance, the most heartfelt words Elizabeth had ever heard Mr. Darcy speak—much more so than what he said when he proposed at Hunsford. Then, Elizabeth was convinced, the man’s words had been delivered with a certain detachment, perhaps fueled by his conviction she could not possibly refuse him. In this instance, Mr. Darcy knew rejection was a possibility.

  Though Elizabeth did not immediately respond, Mr. Darcy did not press his suit, seeming to understand she required time to consider the matter. Her thoughts of Mr. Darcy these past months had been a jumbled mess, understanding limited and fleeting. Never, in her wildest imaginations had she considered the possibility that her blunt refusal and subsequent accusations had not extinguished Mr. Darcy’s feelings. For a proud man, it seemed he was quite capable of humbling himself enough to strive to gain her good impression.

  Something in Elizabeth’s heart seemed to shift, upsetting all her previous opinions of this man, some of which had persisted even after she had learned the truth of Mr. Wickham. And on some level, she began to understand he might be a man who would suit her needs in a husband if she only possessed enough courage to look under the surface and discover it for herself. Thus, these thoughts roiling around in Elizabeth’s mind meant there was only one answer to give—though it came with a rather large caveat.

  “I think I would like that, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth quietly. “However, any future connection between us must, I think, depend on the success of our endeavors for the next two or three days. If my that scoundreln ruins my sister, I cannot think it wise for you to connect your family to mine.”

  “If it should become necessary, I have no doubt Wickham can be bribed to marry your sister. It is not a life to which she should aspire, but marriage will restore her respectability.”

  “You think Wickham will marry Lydia? How can that be? She has nothing to tempt him, especially if he lusts after riches as you have said.”

  “Leave that to me, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, baring his teeth, reminding Elizabeth of the image of a wolf she had once seen. “His situation will, no doubt, be critical, and if so, he can be worked upon to alleviate it. If nothing else, he will avoid debtors’ prison if he agrees. We simply need to ensure there is no other choice.”

  “But then marrying me would make Mr. Wickham your brother. Surely every feeling must revolt against such a connection.”

  “Not enough to deter me. I would bear much greater indignities than these for the privilege of having you as my wife.”

  “Let us first see what happens,” said Elizabeth, overwhelmed by his declaration. “Such grandiose pronouncements may not be necessary.”

  “I hope they will not be. But I am prepared, nonetheless.”

  Elizabeth had given her assent, and she did not feel the need to repeat it. They turned together to witness the final preparations for the coach, and this was when Elizabeth saw two cases she did not think she had seen before. One was long and rectangular while the other was square and much smaller. The footmen strapped them to the top of the carriage before their eyes, and while Elizabeth did not recognize them, it was clear Mr. Darcy had, for he stepped away from her and moved to speak to her father.

  For several long moments after, they stood close together, whispering, Mr. Darcy’s words punctuated by sharp hand gestures, the sound of his voice reaching her, though she could not make out the words. Mr. Bennet, however, replied calmly, unruffled by Mr. Darcy’s comments. A short time later the conversation ended, and while Mr. Bennet was still unperturbed, Mr. Darcy could not be called the same, as he looked up to the top of the carriage with some disquiet.

  As everything was now ready, the travelers made their farewells before climbing into the coach, Elizabeth choosing a seat by her father as propriety dictated. And then they were off. The last sight Elizabeth had of her home as the carriage lurched into motion was not the house or the scenes of her youth—rather it was the sight of Jane’s worried countenance. Elizabeth hoped her worry—the worry they all held in their hearts—would be proven unfounded.

  “Now we have departed,” said Bennet before the carriage had even gone past the outer end of Longbourn’s drive, “I am eager to hear more of Mr. Wickham. In particular, I recall you saying something of Mr. Wickham’s offenses toward your family.” Bennet’s eyes swung to Elizabeth. “Furthermore, I suspecgt Elizabeth is not as ignorant of these matters as perhaps she should be.”

  Mr. Darcy fairly gaped at Bennet, and Lizzy was no better. With an internal chuckle at having guessed the truth of the matter, Bennet again addressed Mr. Darcy. “You may trust me, sir, to keep your secrets, as I have trusted you to keep mine. Will you not clarify the innuendo I have heard and explain of what Mr. Wickham’s offenses against you consist?”

  Though his eyes darted to Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy did not hesitate to respond. “Given your request, might I assume your daughter has not informed you of these events?”

  “She has not,” replied Bennet. Turning a fond look on his favorite, Bennet added: “In fact, Lizzy has been remarkably close-mouthed on the subject of Mr. Wickham, though now that I think on it, she was not nearly so warm toward him after her return from Kent. Might I assume that was your doing?”

  “I could not tell you, Papa,” said Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy had not given me leave to do so.”

  Bennet shook his head. “Of course, you could not, Child.” A laugh escaped his lips. “And even if you would have attempted it, I do not believe it would have made a difference in my decision to allow Lydia to go.

  “Now, given the circumstances, it seems prudent that I know more of what this man is capable. Will you not share your story, Mr. Darcy?”

  While it appeared the gentleman was reluctant, he did not protest. The tale the gentleman wove might have seemed unlikely to a critical listener if it had not been delivered with such dispassion. Mr. Darcy spoke at length about Mr. Wickham’s proclivities as a child and then to adulthood, about his penchant for running up debts, his exploits at the gaming tables, and even his actions with respect to the fairer sex. Mr. Darcy also spoke of the living which had featured prominently in Wickham’s grievances, of the compensation agreed upon and the man’s manner of wasting it in less time than it took Mrs. Bennet to spend her allowance. While Bennet might have wished Mr. Darcy would have informed him and all the other fathers in the district of the truth of Mr. Wickham, he could understand why Mr. Darcy did not wish to be responsible for him long after he had cut ties with him.

  “That is a tale of much woe, Mr. Darcy,” said Bennet, waving the other man off when he appeared about to protest. “As it happens, I have no doubt you are telling the absolute truth. The only piece which remains unsaid is Mr. Wickham’s own perception of the events you relate, and I doubt we will ever obtain it.”

  “Mr. Wickham importuned me with his version, if you recall,” said Elizabeth. “What is more, it seemed the whole town knew the details after Mr. Darcy’s departure, and I can assure you that I had no hand in spreading them.”

  “Yes,” mused Mr. Bennet. “I do seem to remember Mr. Wickham regaling us with a similar story, though he was careful to omit a few critical details. No doubt he considers himself quite ill used in this matter.”

  Bennet paused and considered Mr. Darcy, wondering how far he should push the gentleman. Not wis
hing to involve himself in this Wickham’s business again was one thing. But Mr. Darcy had possessed information which might have saved the gentlemen and shopkeepers of the neighborhood much grief. Deciding in the end to share his concerns, Mr. Bennet was not surprised when Mr. Darcy did not push back.

  “That has been on my mind as well, Mr. Bennet,” said the gentleman. “Though there are matters I cannot divulge, I have grown so disgusted with Wickham that I prefer not to acknowledge his existence. I should have considered the matter better.”

  “I am gratified you agree, Mr. Darcy,” said Bennet. He regarded the other man idly, intoning: “There is more to this little tale, is there not? It seems unlikely Mr. Wickham provoked your undying enmity by running up a few debts and living his life in a manner you could not approve.”

  If Elizabeth turning and looking out the window was not enough to tell Bennet his guess was accurate, the sudden tension in Mr. Darcy would have informed him of the truth. In this instance, however, Bennet was certain that whatever Mr. Wickham’s offenses, he did not need to know the truth. He was thus surprised when Mr. Darcy spoke before Bennet assured him he was not required to do so.

  “Wickham attempted to elope with my sister.”

  Feeling his eyebrows climbing his forehead, Bennet did not reply. Mr. Darcy took that as encouragement to continue to speak.

  “Last summer, before I came to Hertfordshire, Georgiana had gone to Ramsgate with her companion, a woman I discovered to be false. She had promoted a match between Wickham and Georgiana, all for the purpose of stealing my sister’s dowry. Had I not joined them unexpectedly, she would have been lost forever.”

  “That is, indeed, enough to provoke eternal animosity,” said Bennet. “It seems likely Mr. Wickham would have considered his success a fitting vengeance for refusing him the living.”

  “And his revenge would have been a complete triumph,” replied Mr. Darcy. The young man was hanging onto his composure by the tips of his fingers, and what was interesting to Bennet was that the sight of Elizabeth appeared to allow him the strength to do so.

  “Now you know why Mr. Darcy did not expose Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth. “He could not take the chance of exposing his sister.”

  “That is a consideration, to be certain,” said Bennet. “But I believe some mention of his proclivities would have been enough to put the neighborhood on their guard without risking Miss Darcy’s reputation.”

  “But would Mr. Wickham not have responded by slandering her?”

  “Your father is correct, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy. For Bennet’s part, it amused him that Elizabeth seemed determined to defend the gentleman, when previously she had not had anything good to say about him. “I never should have allowed him to prey on the neighborhood without saying something. Wickham would have known I would exercise my option to see him in prison had he spoken of Georgiana, for there would have been no reason to refrain.”

  “Do not concern yourself with it, Son,” said Bennet. “We all make mistakes. My mistake of allowing my youngest and silliest daughter to go away from home, with naught but an empty-headed woman to watch over her, ranks high in the list of the follies of gentlemen who consider themselves rational and intelligent.”

  Mr. Darcy nodded but did not reply.

  “The only question remaining is why you would speak of such matters to a woman with whom you are only little acquainted.”

  The reactions of both his companions told Bennet all he needed to know about the truth of the matter, though he was still determined to obtain the details. Elizabeth, being familiar with him, only shook her head, understanding he would see more than she wished him to see. Mr. Darcy was the one who was astonished, his start of surprise almost inducing Bennet to laughter. Instead he maintained the stern countenance of a father and demanded he be told what had passed between them.

  This confession was far more difficult to pull from Mr. Darcy’s lips, and Elizabeth was no more forthcoming. Before long, Bennet could understand why, for the matter was quite embarrassing.

  “Oh, my,” Bennet said when Mr. Darcy confessed to his words in Hunsford parlor that evening in April. “You do know insulting a woman is not the best way to go about ensuring she favors you?”

  The scowl he received for his efforts lacked the intensity Bennet was certain Mr. Darcy could summon. Mr. Darcy chose the simple expedient of ignoring the comment and continuing with his tale. The following moments were punctuated by Bennet’s responses to the unfortunate recitation of all that had happened, complete with a laugh at Elizabeth’s manner of refusing, a shaken head at the subsequent argument, and a knowing grin in response to Elizabeth’s passionate defense of Mr. Wickham and comments regarding Jane and Mr. Bingley. Bennet knew well how sharp her tongue could be when her hackles were raised.

  Then when Mr. Darcy confessed to giving Bennet’s daughter a letter of explanation, Bennet shook his head and pierced the other gentleman with a look. “You are aware, are you not, the knowledge of a letter written to my daughter might lead to damage to her reputation?”

  “I am,” said Mr. Darcy, with no attempt to justify his actions.

  “That is all?”

  “As you have already deduced, given my account,” replied Mr. Darcy, “I would not consider meeting my obligations as a gentleman to be a trial.”

  Bennet guffawed. “Perhaps you should rethink that statement, Mr. Darcy. My Lizzy does not take well to being told what to do. You might wish any fate other than to be forced to the altar with her. It would be her distinct pleasure to ensure your life was a miserable one in such a situation.”

  “Papa!” exclaimed Elizabeth. While he could not see her in the darkness of the carriage, Bennet was certain her cheeks were stained with red.

  “It is nothing less than the truth, Lizzy,” said Bennet, diverted by her embarrassment.

  Though she did not appreciate his conclusion, it did not miss Bennet’s notice that she did not dispute it. The other in the carriage also did not miss it, for he looked toward Elizabeth, though what he could see of her in the dark, Bennet could not quite determine. His manner was anything but severe, however—it was more like tender. It also begged the question of what Mr. Darcy intended to do next, a question Bennet felt more than justified in asking.

  “Then what is next, Mr. Darcy?”

  Mr. Darcy’s eyes swung back to Bennet, and he could just see the gleam in them in the faint light of the moon coming through the window. “What do you mean?”

  “Come now, young man, I suspect you know precisely to what I refer. Once you proposed to my daughter with disastrous results. But you do not strike me as a man who is easily convinced to give up what he wants, and unless my eyes deceive me, matters are much warmer between you now than they were in April.”

  The response did not appear forthcoming come, so Bennet felt he had all the reason in the world to continue to press. “If I am not mistaken, you came with Bingley, intending to improve Elizabeth’s opinion of you if you could. Is that not correct?”

  “In part,” said Mr. Darcy, his voice sounding strained.

  Bennet was delighted—he had not thought he would receive such amusement when traveling in such circumstances, but his daughter and her unacknowledged suitor were proving him incorrect! But Mr. Darcy said nothing further, requiring Bennet to prod him a little more.

  “What other reason could there be? A man refused by a woman with such resolve will not easily put himself in her way again unless he has reason to think he can prevail.”

  “Papa, I beg of you!” cried Elizabeth. “No more of this!”

  If Mr. Darcy sounded strained, Elizabeth’s voice suggested she was about to expire from mortification. That alone was reason enough to continue. It was not often he was able to provoke his daughter in such a way.

  “Do not concern yourself, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy. “Given our history, it is understandable your father would wish to know everything.”

  The strangled sound emerging from E
lizabeth’s throat almost set Bennet to laughing.

  “In part,” said Mr. Darcy, “I have come to offer support to my friend. When he asked me to accompany him here, I could not, in good conscience, refuse. Miss Elizabeth formed part of my thinking, but not all.”

  At that moment it struck Bennet that he was playing matchmaker between the gentleman and his daughter. The absurdity of the situation was such that Bennet did not quite know whether he should laugh, cry, or simply throw up his hands, demand the carriage stop, and flee out into the night. As the third option was not practicable, and the first and second would solve nothing, he prayed for patience and forged ahead with a fourth option.

  “And you, Lizzy? What is your opinion of these matters?”

  “I do not know what you are asking, Papa,” said Elizabeth, sounding fatigued.

  “Does it not strike you as amazing that a man such as Mr. Darcy would not only propose to you, but return to Hertfordshire after you gave him a set-down for the ages?”

  “I should never have suspected he would do such a thing,” murmured Elizabeth.

  Bennet harrumphed, annoyance building within his breast. Was he required to spell it out for them both? Had he thought them poorly suited he might have held his tongue, but Mr. Darcy’s intelligence alone was enough to ensure Elizabeth would have a happy life with him, a matter which had always given Bennet much concern. Most men did not wish for a clever wife. It was clear to him they belonged together, or at least they would suit each other well.

  “Then let me be blunt without attempting to decide matters for you,” said Mr. Bennet. “It seems to me, Lizzy, that you should let go of your prejudices and see Mr. Darcy for what he truly is. And you, Mr. Darcy, should not despair. Lizzy, though she judges with haste, at times, is not above changing her opinion.”

  “Of this I am already aware,” said Mr. Darcy. “I have already spoken to your daughter, and she has agreed to give me another chance.”