Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (13 page)

The hatred in William’s eyes was disconcerting. His failure to react or reply was not what Gisela had expected. Her confidence began to wane. “I… I thought you would be pleased.”

“Pleased? The only thing that would please me is if you say that you want a divorce!”

“I have told you often enough that I enjoy being Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy! I will NEVER let you divorce me.”

“You may have no choice! I have all the evidence I need, what with you flaunting your latest affair all over London!”

“Are you jealous?”

“Never!”

“Then perhaps I should remind you that I can bring your little sister’s world crashing down around her if you persist in this matter!”

“I see that you have not changed, so there is nothing more to say. Leave my house immediately!”

“Oh, but there is another reason for my visit! Lady Matlock tells me that dear Georgiana will be back in Town shortly. I hinted to her ladyship that she should invite my dear sister to the theatre. And, if I should just happen to be there and join them in their box…”

William’s eyes narrowed as he gripped both her forearms with enough force that they began to ache. “If you are wise, you will stay away from my sister!”

“Oh! I love a passionate man! It is too bad that you will not sample
my
passionate nature in bed.”

“I abhor you. I could never desire you!”

“We shall see. After all, at some point you must give in to your baser instincts.”

“Not with you! I can assure you of that!”

“So you have said enough times. But rest assured that should I learn that you are satisfying your desires with a paramour, I shall make certain that all of England knows her identity. For anyone that you fancied would, of course, be a lady. Would you be willing to subject her to public shame? And would you want your precious sister to know that you are keeping a whore?”

William began to drag her from the room, even as she spewed even more vile threats. By the time they had reached the front door, Brigham was holding it open, and William flung her onto the portico. Just as she turned to hurl one last insult, the door slammed in her face.

“Humph!” Gisela declared, kicking the bottom of the front door before turning to find that several people had stopped on the walk below to watch the spectacle. Lifting her head as though she were royalty, Gisela descended the front steps, losing her balance on the fifth one. A footman hurried to guide her to the carriage door, handing her inside. She entered as quickly as possible, thankful that she had not come in an open carriage. Ultimately she was able to escape the curiosity of her audience by pulling down the window shade.

“He shall pay for this!” she raged to the empty carriage.  “I should have Wickham rape that ugly little mouse Georgiana just for good measure!”

The drive back to her townhouse was punctuated by the sound of loud acclamations of displeasure—nothing out of the ordinary for the two footmen and driver, as they were well-acquainted with their mistress’ temper tantrums and drunken rants.  Exchanging looks every time she got louder, they shook their heads, hoping that they could get back to the townhouse without her deciding to go shopping. It was difficult at best to keep her from falling down when she drank so heavily. And, of course, she always blamed them for her mishaps.

~~~*~~~

Meryton
Longbourn
A few days later

Elizabeth found Jane where she had least expected—sitting on the side of the sprawling oak tree atop Oakham Mount that was her own haven. It was not like her older sister to walk out alone in the mornings or to go this far alone, as she was never as adventurous as Elizabeth.  But Jane had not been herself since Mr. Bingley’s departure from Netherfield. From behind, Elizabeth thought her sister looked perfectly well, except for a few blond curls that had escaped her bonnet and were blowing in the gentle breeze. It was only after closer inspection that she saw signs of her distress.

“Jane?” Elizabeth stopped, hesitating to come closer as her sister turned her head away. “Jane, you know my heartache, let me share yours.”

Jane took a deep breath, her shoulders visibly rising with the effort, then turned to meet Elizabeth’s gaze. It was evident that her lovely blue eyes were red from crying, and though Elizabeth longed to comfort her, she did not rush to do so. Truly understanding her sister’s wish to be alone, she was determined to honour Jane’s privacy, if that was what she wished.

“It is just…” Jane’s voice cracked as her face crumpled, and she shook her head in an effort to recover. “Please allow me a moment to compose myself.”

Elizabeth said nothing and did not move closer. Finally, Jane was able to control her voice and began speaking. “It is just that he left without a word. After all the time we spent in each other’s company, all I was to receive was this.” She held up a tear-stained paper. “This note from Caroline!”

Those few words preceded another torrent of tears, causing Elizabeth to edge closer. Under her breath, she cursed the missive that had arrived early on the day Jane was to dine with Caroline and Louisa. Though it was short, and in Elizabeth’s estimation meant to wound, she knew it by heart already.

Dear Miss Bennet,

I regret that we must cancel our dinner invitation. By the time you read this, we shall be on our way to London, as my brother has been summoned by Mr. Darcy to come immediately. It seems his sister is returning to London, and he wishes Charles to be there to greet her. We are all looking forward to renewing our friendship with Miss Darcy, who is a lady of the finest calibre. Charles is not sure at this point when, or if, we shall return to Netherfield.

Yours truly,

Caroline Bingley

Seeing that Jane had begun to quietly cry again, Elizabeth came around the other side of the tree and slipped down beside her, threading an arm around her shoulders. “I am sorry. I truly understand your pain. I was not as well acquainted with Mr. Darcy as you were with Mr. Bingley, but nevertheless, my feelings were hurt by his unfeeling departure. However, Mr. Bingley had gone to such great effort to get to know you—all of the dances at the assemblies, the walks into Meryton and his calls at Longbourn—that his departure without any explanation is truly a mystery.”

“I must have read more into his actions than he intended,” Jane whispered dejectedly. “After all, he never asked permission to court me.”

“Apparently Mr. Bingley may be more like his dear friend, Mr. Darcy, than I believed at first,” Elizabeth huffed, beginning to consider the similarities. “In fact, since it was Mr. Darcy who summoned Mr. Bingley to London so swiftly, perhaps he learned of his attraction to you from Charles’ sisters and did not wish his friend to be attached to a member of my family!”

“Oh, Lizzy!” Jane stood and began to pace. “I am not ready to attribute such cruelty to Mr. Darcy or to Mr. Bingley’s sisters. Perhaps there is a rational explanation for his hurried departure and, as I said, he did not ask to court me.”

“You are too trusting,” Elizabeth retorted. “But never mind the reason for his removal. He is gone, and it is just as well, as we shall be leaving Meryton too! We have been invited to London to stay the summer with our Uncle and Aunt Gardiner beginning next week!”

Elizabeth stood and slipped a letter from her pocket. Then she reached out to grab Jane’s hand to pull her alongside as she sat back down. “This came right after you left, and I managed to hide it from Mama. After all, it is addressed to me.”

As Jane leaned in to follow what was written, Elizabeth began.  “Aunt Madeline writes that her second cousin, Penelope—the one that is married to Colonel Holmes—is returning to London. Holmes’ eldest brother, Viscount Moreland, has died, and his father is ill. The Colonel has resigned from the army to become the Viscount, but Aunt says it is only a matter of time until he will take his place as the Earl of Rhodes. Then Penelope Holmes will be a countess! Can you imagine that we shall have connections to a countess?”

“Do not tell Mama!” Jane cautioned, pulling a handkerchief from a pocket to dry her eyes.

“Certainly not! Aunt Madeline was adamant that she did not want Mama to know, for fear she would send all our sisters to London at once.”

“She would, to be sure.”

“In an event, Aunt enclosed a letter for me to give Papa, which she says explains her wish for us to come. She is eager for us to attend the soirées that are being planned in her cousin’s honour, since she and Uncle will be in attendance at many of them. Who knows how many eligible men we shall meet! You shall most likely forget all about Mr. Bingley, just as I shall forget Mr. Darcy.”

“Lizzy, you do not have to pretend for my sake,” Jane chided. “I know that you are only trying to cheer me. You have always made light of social occasions, just like Papa. How often have you told me how tedious and mortifying it is to be put on display for matchmaking purposes?”

Trying to keep up her sister’s spirit, Elizabeth challenged, “Oh, but I dearly love to dance! And besides, maybe I shall not mind being on display if I am in the company of real gentlemen—not those like Mr. Darcy. He has all the appearance of goodness, but it is merely that—appearance. I promise to keep an open mind if you will.”

“I will not be going.”

“Not going? Oh Jane, why ever not?”

“I do not wish to visit London at this time. I have been so focused on Mr. Bingley that I have not given due consideration to what I really want in a husband. I am so confused at this moment that I do not believe I would know the perfect man even if I were to meet him. Besides, why must I go to London? There are plenty of men in Meryton.”

“For instance?”

“Arthur Rice, Walter Gould, John Lucas.”

“Arthur Rice is bald and fat. Walter Gould is a dolt and John Lucas is so immature that he has to ask his mother when to breathe!”

“He does not!” Jane exclaimed, beginning to weigh Mr. Lucas’ qualities. “I find him solicitous and steady –”

“Boring and predictable!”

“As of now, I have a new appreciation of boring and predictable.”

“Please go with me, Jane, or I shall have no confidant with whom to chuckle about the foibles of London society and, besides, we shall never know what fate might await us if we limit ourselves to the gentlemen of Meryton!”

“No. I may join you for a while during the summer, but for the present, I am staying at Longbourn.”

Elizabeth sighed. There was no arguing with Jane when she had her mind made up.  She stood, declaring a little too enthusiastically as she paced back and forth, “Well, I for one am going! And while I am there, I shall look for a suitable husband for you, so do not make any commitments while I am off regaling London with my brilliant intellect!” 

Jane tried to smile but it was not convincing. Elizabeth stopped to gently lift her chin with one finger until their eyes met. “Promise me?”

“After what happened with Mr. Bingley, I cannot imagine trusting another man with my heart in the near future so I believe I can safely promise you that.” 

“Come then. Let us walk back down the trail together. If we hurry, Hill may find something left in the kitchen to break our fast!”  As Jane got to her feet, Elizabeth hugged her tightly before pushing her at arm’s length. “Swear that you will not waste another thought on Mr. Bingley, just as I have vowed never to waste another on Mr. Darcy. You shall see—we shall both be better off without them!”

“I swear,” Jane murmured, though it was obvious that her heart was not in the pledge. If she had searched her sister’s eyes a little longer, she would have seen that Elizabeth’s heart was not in her pledge either. 

Arm-in-arm, they started back down the well-worn path that led to the bottom of Oakham Mount and then on to Longbourn. Neither was aware of how momentous a decision had been made that day or how their promises would affect them in the coming months. But it was with better spirits and renewed faith in the future that they returned to their home.

~~~*~~~

Ramsgate

For the fourth time since he had arrived, George Wickham admired the view as his rented carriage made its way down the street nearest the beach. As he peered up at the sky, it seemed bluer than he had ever imagined, with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily across the great expanse. On his previous jaunts, he had noted that the weathered old houses that lined the street were evidently well built to withstand the storms that blew in off the sea, and any repairs that did not fit the older, grey portions, were all ornamental—trim and such.  Nevertheless, these once stately homes had declined over the years and had long ago been turned into business establishments, such as the one he would call on today.

As abruptly as the conveyance came to a stop, so did Wickham’s contemplations of the neighbourhood. He stepped out onto the sandy street, taking a deep breath of the lightly gusting salty air. 
Invigorating!
  For a moment, he envisioned how pleasant it would be to live near the sea, but dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come. The risk of staying in one place was too great, as he was constantly in flight from one plot or another gone awry. No. There would not be a seaside residence for him.

Consequently, he turned once more to study the facade of the last manor on the street. It was three stories high, the upper floors occupied by family, per the shop keeper’s admission, while the bottom floor served as the art gallery. A uniquely painted white sign with a seashell border and black lettering swung back and forth over the top of the stairs—
Younge’s Art Gallery
. Underneath in smaller letters were the words,
Lessons Available.

As his eyes dropped to the entrance, he noted Mrs. Younge peering through the glass so he hurried towards the steps, removing his hat as he went. She opened the door before he reached it.

“Mr. Wickham.” Bobbing a curtsey, the proprietor stood back to let the tall, handsome, brown-haired man pass. Sarah Younge was undecided what to think of the gentleman who had already visited several times that week—perusing the same paintings and talking of purchasing one—though he had not bothered to do so as yet.