Alone with Mr. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (11 page)

Lydia cried, “We had such fun, Lizzy! I
declare, I feel sorry for you, stuck here all alone while we were dancing and
playing cards in town. It was a marvelous adventure! And you will never believe
what happened! Such excitement! Yesterday…”

Mary said in a peremptory manner, “That is
enough, Lydia. Let us speak of it no more now.”

“Why should I not speak of it? It cannot
be kept secret. Half the town already knows, and why should Lizzy be the last
to find out?”

Kitty made a small sound, covered her
mouth with her hand, and ran out of the room still wearing her pelisse. The
sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs followed her departure.


That
is why you should say
nothing,” said Mary severely. “Kitty is distraught enough as it is.”

Now worried, Elizabeth said, “Did
something happen to Kitty?”

Lydia bounced up on her toes. “No, not to
her. She is just being silly. It is Maria Lucas. I venture to guess you did not
expect to hear
that
name! She disappeared from the wedding breakfast,
and no one saw her until yesterday when she was found walking down High Street,
weeping and clutching her torn dress to hold it together. She is quite ruined,
of course.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She had hoped
Maria might somehow avoid discovery. “Poor girl.”

“She is a fool. If she had only had the
sense to return directly to Lucas Lodge and avoid being seen, no one might have
known anything had happened. But she had to make a show of it. Now her mother
will not speak to her, and Sir William Lucas will not speak to anyone at all. I
imagine they will have to send her away.”

“How did she come to leave the wedding
breakfast?” Elizabeth addressed her question to Mary. It was something which
had been troubling her.

“No one knows. She, Kitty and Lydia were
flirting with the officers, and that is the last anyone saw of her.”

Lydia, apparently cross at being cut out
of the conversation, said, “She drank too much rum punch and became quite
silly. She wanted Denny to notice her instead of me for once. Well, apparently
he did.
I
never have any trouble handling the officers; I do not know
why
she
could not stop them. She is such a child!”

Elizabeth refrained from pointing out
Maria was almost a year older than Lydia, albeit far more innocent – or
she had been. “I do not wish to hear any more of this from you, Lydia. I feel
sorry for poor Maria. She has been very ill used.”

Mrs. Bennet removed her bonnet and
replaced it with her cap. “There is no need to carry on, Lizzy. It is no harm
to you, and at least I will not have to listen to Lady Lucas boast of having a
daughter married or of Charlotte being mistress of this house someday. My
daughters may have failed to marry, but at least none of you have been
disgraced.”

Ignoring her mother, Elizabeth tugged at
Mary’s arm. “Come, you must be dying to put on some clean clothes. How long
have you been wearing that dress?”

Mary followed her sister upstairs with a
grimace. “I do not even wish to think of it!”

Chapter 9

 

 

Darcy reached London in a vile humor.
Mercury had shied at every unexpected sight en route, and there had been quite
a few to choose from. Even with few travelers venturing out on the snowy roads,
there were wagons stuck in ditches, carriages with their wheels sunk in drifts,
and the hooves of any passing horse kicked up flying snow.  He should have
stopped at an inn to warm himself before continuing, but his desire to reach
home kept him riding far longer than was comfortable or even sensible. At least
the depth of the snow decreased as he approached the city. Apparently London
had been spared the worst of the storm.

His butler had met him at the door with a
look of profound relief. “Welcome back, sir. May I say, on behalf of all the
staff, that we are happy to see you returned to us in good health?”

“Was my sister concerned?” That had not
even crossed his mind, even though Georgiana always fretted herself over
everything.

The butler coughed. “I believe Mrs.
Annesley took the liberty of telling Miss Darcy we had received word you would
not return until the weather cleared.”

“Very good. I will want tea, brandy, and
hot water for a bath. And something to eat. You may inform my sister I am back,
and will see her once I am presentable.” He hid Elizabeth’s hair ribbon in his
fist before giving up his greatcoat.

“Yes, sir.”

Naturally, Crewe was already laying out
fresh clothes for him. His valet often seemed to have an almost preternatural
ability to foresee his actions. 

Pursing his lips, Crewe ran a practiced
eye over Darcy’s apparel, but said nothing. That was a bad sign.

Tiredly, Darcy said, “Yes, I
have
been sleeping in these clothes for two nights, and on a straw pallet in front
of a sooty fire, no less.”

Crewe nodded an acknowledgment, then
deftly assisted him in removing the tight top coat. The valet held out the coat
to examine it. “And with a white animal, I take it, along with someone with
long, curly chestnut hair,” he said under his breath.

“What did you say?” Darcy demanded,
fighting an urge to snatch the coat from Crewe.

“Nothing, sir. I will arrange for a
suitable disposal.”

“No. Do not dispose of any of it.”

Crewe wrinkled his nose. “It will not be
possible to return it to an acceptable state to be worn in public, sir.”

“Nevertheless, I wish to keep it.”

“Even the shirt? The soot stains will
never come out.”

“The shirt as well.” For some reason it
seemed crucial not to lose those clothes, even if he never wore them again.
Elizabeth had slept in his arms while he wore them.

“As you wish, sir.” It was clear Crewe’s
wishes lay quite elsewhere.

***

Darcy frowned at the plate of food in
front of him. Why should his appetite desert him now, after he had been longing
for a warm meal for days? He was finally shaved and tidy, comfortably clad in
clean clothes, though Crewe thought he had lost his mind.

Warm, clean, with servants to do his every
bidding – he should be pleased. But how could he feel content when
Elizabeth’s absence was so palpable? How long would this torture continue? He
needed to forget Elizabeth Bennet, and the sooner the better. Not that he had
ever succeeded in that endeavor in the past. 

The butler approached him with a bow. “Mr.
Stanton is awaiting your pleasure in the study, sir.”’

It was not as if he was going to eat
anything more in any case, so Darcy pushed back his chair. “I will see him
now.”                                                                                                                                                                      
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

His man of business awaited him, dressed
as always in a sober black which made him seem to fade into the woodwork.

“Thank you for coming so promptly,” said
Darcy, settling himself behind his desk. “I have a task I wish to see
accomplished, but it needs to be done quickly and may require several days of
your time. Would you be available for that?”

Stanton bobbed his head. “I can clear my
schedule for you, naturally.”

“Good. I need you to go to Meryton again.
Your first task is to ascertain whether there is any gossip about a young lady
named Maria Lucas, the daughter of Sir William Lucas. In all likelihood, she
has been ruined. If that is the case, you must find an officer in the militia
regiment who is willing to marry her in exchange for a sum of money and the
purchase of a commission in a regiment far from Meryton. One who will not be
unkind to her, of course.” He picked up a paper. “I have written all the particulars
of the matter here for you.”

Stanton took the list and perused it. “Ah.
Mr. Wickham again, I see.”

“Of course.”

“I foresee no difficulties with that. I
assume you wish this to be handled with the greatest discretion?”

“Yes.” Darcy cleared his throat. “At our
last meeting, you informed me Wickham was keeping company with Miss Elizabeth
Bennet. She is no longer at any risk from him, and is aware of my interest in
the matter of Miss Lucas. Should you require any further information about that
situation, she may be able to provide it. I have written a letter which
explains this to her. I hope you will have the opportunity to give it to her.”
He pushed the sealed envelope across the desk, watching the other man’s
expression closely.

If Stanton had any reaction to this
unusual request, he hid it well. “That should not be difficult.”

“Also, I would like to know if there is
any unusual talk in the town regarding Miss Bennet.”

“Very well, sir. And if there is gossip,
what course of action should I undertake? The same as for…” He paused to
consult the paper. “…Miss Lucas?”

Darcy’s throat was tight. “No. Inform me
of it immediately, but do nothing.” He had to know the outcome, just in case
Elizabeth chose not to inform him. Elizabeth. He rubbed the ribbon in his
pocket between his fingers.

***

In Meryton Elizabeth found her way blocked
by a nondescript gentleman.

He removed his hat. “Pardon me, miss, but
might I impose upon you for directions to the Furnham farm?”

Taken aback by this approach from a
perfect stranger, she pointed to her left. “It is just beyond the next curve in
the road.”

His next words were all in a rush, in a
voice too quiet to be overheard. “Pray continue to point as I speak. My name is
Stanton, and I was sent by Mr. Darcy to repair the unfortunate situation of a
young lady. He told me if I could not obtain the local information I needed, I
should approach you with my questions. Is there a time and place we could speak
together? I pray you to recall you are supposed to be giving me directions.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Darcy had
not forgotten his promise to help Maria Lucas – and by extension, he had
not forgotten
her
.  “I… Yes, beyond the next curve, and you will
pass a large oak, then two fields separated by a footpath with a stile. I would
show you the way, but I must finish my errands here, and that will take half an
hour or more.”

“Very good,” he said quietly. “By the
stile, in half an hour or more.” He replaced his hat and spoke loudly. “Thank
you kindly, miss, for the directions and for taking the time to help a
stranger.”

As he walked away, Elizabeth stared after
him, her pulses racing. What was wrong with her, that just hearing Darcy’s name
was enough to send her into a tizzy of the sort Lydia was known for? Willing
herself to appear calm, she turned back toward the milliner’s shop. Half an
hour. No matter how many errands she had, it would be hard to wait so long.

She hurried through her shopping, but made
every attempt to appear relaxed as she walked down the road towards the Furnham
farm.

Mr. Stanton leaned against the dry stone
fence beside the stile. “I thank you for joining me, Miss Bennet.”

“If there is some manner in which I can be
of assistance, I would be happy to do so. The young lady in question is
suffering greatly.”

“So I understand. My goal, if I may be
direct, is to find her a husband, and then arrange for them to move far away
from here. However, the first task is proving more challenging than I had
anticipated.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Finding her
a husband under these circumstances cannot be easy.”

He smiled. “Ordinarily, a heavy purse is
sufficient enticement to convince a man to wed almost any woman, but the
gentlemen who were, ah, involved in her disgrace are too busy strutting
themselves to think of the future. Were they not so engaged with telling one
another what fine fellows they are for ruining a young girl’s future, I might
have had a chance. In this case, I cannot see any of them as good candidates
for the role of husband, and Mr. Darcy made it plain he would prefer a husband
who would treat her well. That is where I hoped for your assistance.”

“A husband who would treat her well?” The
image of what she had seen at the tavern flashed before her, leaving a sick
taste in her mouth. “None of those involved would meet that description.”

“I am glad you concur. My question is
this: are there any officers in the militia who might be suitable and
trustworthy? Preferably ones who would not mind leaving the regiment behind.”

To think only a fortnight ago she would
have characterized Mr. Wickham as such a man! She shivered, suddenly struck by
how many of the militia officers were not the kind of men she would care to
marry. “Let me see…Captain Carter seems an upstanding sort, although a flirt,
but he has strong ties to Colonel Forster and might not wish to leave. Mr.
Pratt – he is an ensign – might work. He is quite young, but so is
Miss Lucas. Or…” She paused to think. There must be at least a few officers who
were not flirts or skirt-chasers. “Mr. Chamberlayne might suit the purpose.
Some of the officers mock him for his slight stature, so he might be happy to
leave. He seems to prefer the company of young women to that of his fellow
officers.”

“Chamberlayne, Pratt, Carter. I will start
with those.” He made a note in a small notebook. “Your assistance has been
invaluable, Miss Bennet, but I must not keep you. Mr. Darcy would be most
displeased if I drew any untoward attention to you.”

She could not help smiling, more from the
pleasure of speaking to someone to whom she did not have to pretend a lack of
knowledge of Darcy. If only she could do more than speak of him – but she
should be grateful for what she had. “Pray tell Mr. Darcy I am grateful for his
attention to this matter. I hope you are successful in your mission. It will
make an enormous difference to poor Miss Lucas.”

“Oh, I shall be successful, one way or
another. I have no intention of disappointing Mr. Darcy. That reminds me…” He
rummaged in his pocket and produced a letter. “He asked me to give you this. In
case there should be a reply, I will return to this spot in two days’ time.”
Was it skill or lack of knowledge which allowed him to appear so nonchalant
about her compromising situation in receiving a letter from a single gentleman?
Perhaps it was just tact.

Her heart hammered as she took it, wishing
she could press it to her chest. But it was dangerous enough to have someone
aware she was receiving correspondence from Darcy. Presumably he must have
great faith in Stanton’s discretion to have entrusted him with such an errand,
but it would not do that have him report back that she had acted like a
lovesick girl.

She hardly heard Mr. Stanton bidding her
farewell. What could Darcy have to say to warrant the risk of writing to her?
She could not possibly wait until she was home to read it. Caressing the fine
parchment, she slipped her finger under the red wax seal.

 

My dear Miss Elizabeth,

By now Stanton will no doubt have
explained why he is in Meryton, but I wish to reassure you he is quite
trustworthy. I have employed him on many occasions over the years and have full
confidence in him. I hope it did not cause you undue worry to have a stranger
approach you. He has dealt with this sort of situation many times in the past.

I hope there have been no repercussions
to you from the blizzard, and I would still like to hear from you if there
should be any difficulties. It has been something of a worry to me since I left
Meryton. 

I hope you have been enjoying the
smooth floors and warm food at Longbourn. I find myself noting whenever a fire
is burning low, and must battle the temptation to pile it high. My servants
would be very mystified should I do so!

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