One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (31 page)

Mr. Bennet chased away the long silence with an additional speech. “This information, from a trustworthy and reliable source, is not to be doubted, nor will I entertain any questions about it.
 
In exchange for the warning on behalf of my daughters, I am sworn to secrecy on the particulars that have convinced me of the veracity of the report. I will not be gainsaid in this declaration, and, indeed, any defiance will result in confinement to the house until such time as the militia has left Meryton. This means, of course, that should you encounter officers, whether it is on the road, in a house or at a dance, if they are in company with Mr. Wickham, you are not to engage in any social intercourse whatsoever.”

Lydia whined loudly at this but was silenced once more by her father's impatient glare in her direction.

“Lizzy, am I understood?” Mr. Bennet asked pointedly.

“Yes, Papa.” Elizabeth muttered self-consciously, wondering at her father's behavior. She had never seen him so stern, and she speculated that Mr. Darcy's business with him earlier in the day had been the impetus of this bad humor. There was too much evidence to doubt it.

“You are wrong, Papa!” Lydia pouted. “It is not fair! Mr. Wickham is a perfect gentleman and very amiable. Mr. Darcy has treated Mr. Wickham infamously, and I know that he has now slandered him as well, for we all saw you go together with him into your study! Would you honestly believe such a disagreeable man as Mr. Darcy over Mr. Wickham?”

“Silence!” Mr. Bennet stood up from the table, his napkin cast down as he rose. “Lydia, you were warned, and now you shall feel it. You are confined to the house until such time as the militia has departed.”

“But the ball!” Mrs. Bennet and Lydia spoke in unison.

“What of the ball? You shall not go to the ball but shall remain at home with Hill.” Mr. Bennet grumbled at Lydia. “I will not be moved, and I am in no mood to be contradicted.” He looked around the table. “Does anyone else wish to defend Wickham? I am certain your sister would appreciate the company during the ball. Kitty? Have you nothing to say?”

“No, Papa.” Kitty shook her head.

“Mrs. Bennet?” Mr. Bennet challenged his wife.

Mrs. Bennet looked thoughtful and sweetened her expression as much as she could. “Surely there is no reason to deny Lydia attendance to the ball, Mr. Bennet. We have re-trimmed a gown for the occasion, and all the officers are set upon dancing with her. They will expect to see her there. How are we to explain it?”

“The officers will find some way to resolve their disappointment with some other young lady at the ball. I will not be prevailed upon, Mrs. Bennet. Do not attempt to persuade me, or Jane may well be the only Bennet allowed to go.” Mr. Bennet excused himself and quit the room.

The rest of the household did not recover their spirits during the meal, and the rest of the dinner was eaten in an awkward, uncomfortable silence.

~*~

“Oh, Jane, that was the most unbearable meal of my life!” Elizabeth declared to her sister in Jane's bedchamber that night. “I was already distressed, and seeing Papa so out of sorts has only made it worse. Today has been a dreadful day, indeed.”

“Certainly not the whole day, Lizzy.” Jane smiled. “Tea-time was pleasant enough.”

“You are, as always, correct Jane; although in retrospect, viewed with my father's revelations of Mr. Wickham, it casts an entirely different light upon the tea as well.” Elizabeth sighed. “I did have a lovely walk this morning though. I climbed to the top of Oakham Mount and there saw the sunrise. The colors in the sky were splendid, with golden rays and streaks of rose and saffron. The day began with great promise.”

“It does sound lovely, Lizzy. Nevertheless, the tea must have held some other pleasure—I saw that Colonel Fitzwilliam was very attentive to you.” Jane said encouragingly.

“I am astonished, Jane, that you were even aware of his presence. I thought you only had eyes for Mr. Bingley.” Elizabeth laughed. “I did not expect you to notice!”

“I heard you laughing and looked up. There you were, seated by the colonel, his eyes fixed upon your face as though you were a masterpiece of a great artist. Mr. Collins sat near and appeared for all the world as though he would speak to you but could not find his voice. Mr. Darcy was standing by the window listening and watching most intently, seemingly content to observe. You certainly held their attention, which did
not
please my mother. I believe she wished for the colonel to join with Lydia and the officers in their conversation.”

“I did enjoy meeting the colonel, Jane. He is a man of good breeding and taste and as gentlemanlike a person as I could ever expect to meet—except when he was teasing Mr. Wickham. There was something odd in their conversation, which I had assumed to be merely playfulness between old friends, but my father's disclosure about Mr. Wickham leads me to believe that there was something more.”

Elizabeth looked at her sister, who seemed unable to fathom what 'something more' could mean.

“Jane, there is something else that troubles me.” Elizabeth began. “My handkerchief, the one I was to take to the ball—it has disappeared.”

“You must have misplaced it, Lizzy. I will help you look tomorrow.” Jane reassured her sister. “Needlework does not grow legs, but you do tend to be careless and absently leave things about.”

“No, Jane. I took it to tea to trim it with the Lampton lace from Aunt Gardiner. When it was completed, I set it on the table. After everyone had departed, I discovered that it was missing.” Elizabeth's sadness was apparent. “I fear it is gone.”

“Could there have been some accident? Perhaps it was pocketed by someone who mistook it as his own.” Jane suggested.

“Men's handkerchiefs are not commonly trimmed with lace in such a way as a lady's kerchief is. The only persons who were near me were Mr. Wickham, Mr. Collins, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. None of these could have mistaken it as his own.”

“But why, Lizzy? Why would anyone wish to take it?” Jane puzzled. “I do not understand.”

“I have spent the evening pondering this same question, Jane, and either one of the men is simply a thief, or there is some other motive at work. Mr. Wickham was beginning to show me his attentions, and we know that Mr. Collins has singled me out, even though Mary is trying very hard to gain his favor. The colonel seemed to fancy me, or rather I fancied him and hope that he fancied me. I think that it is possible that one of them considered it as a prize—a token.” Elizabeth frowned. “I think I should dislike a man very much who would steal from me as an expression of regard. I have heard of it being done, but I do not like it.”

“You must admit it is romantic.” Jane smiled.

“I shall admit no such thing! I want it back—that is all. How am I to determine who has taken it?” Elizabeth frowned. “Perhaps I must confront them all. Will they admit it if a challenge is issued?”

“Lizzy, it should not be attempted! If they have not taken it, you will offend, and if one of them has, he will be forced to add a lie to the sin of stealing.” Jane admonished. “No, you must let it be known that you desire it back, and he will certainly return it to you.”

“If it is returned of his own free will, I will forgive, but if it is not, and I discover who has taken it, he will certainly learn that Elizabeth Bennet is no easy target for a petty thief!” Elizabeth declared with great determination and fervor. “He will learn that heaven is not the only destination to be had in a handkerchief!”

“Lizzy!” Jane cried. “You must not speak so!”

“I speak truth, Jane.” Elizabeth fumed. “I
 
will
 
have it back!”

~*~

The evening at Netherfield was very different from that of Longbourn. Miss Bingley had come upon a new strategy in her pursuit of attention from Mr. Darcy. She was clearly determined to stir him to some great jealousy by means of flirting outrageously with his cousin.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was a willing accomplice in her charade and made great sport of returning her banter in kind. He was not serious, of course, but the resulting repartee was dazzling, and it moved the others of the household in various ways.

Mr. Bingley was desperately unhappy with his sister for her overtly coy behavior and not pleased at all with the colonel for encouraging her in it. Bingley's mild attempts to disrupt their game had little effect except, perhaps, to spur his sister on.

Mr. and Mrs. Hurst spoke barely at all, and Mr. Darcy, other than finding occasional amusement in the antics of his cousin, was largely unmoved by any of it and retired early for the night.

Since obtaining a reaction from Mr. Darcy was the point of Miss Bingley's behavior, the entire company followed suit soon after and retired as well.

Not long after Mr. Darcy had arrived at his chambers, a knock sounded, and he found his cousin at the door. Entrance was granted, and Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the room, his countenance lit with merriment. He threw himself into a chair, his sprawling figure a distinct contrast to the reserved upright one of his cousin. “Had I known the delights I would find in Hertfordshire Darcy, I would have joined you weeks ago!”

“Delights?” Darcy frowned. “Of what do you speak?”

“Oh come now, you know of what I speak. Caroline Bingley for one has been a great source of amusement. She
 
likes
 
you, Darcy!” Richard teased.

“True, but hardly delightful, Fitzwilliam.” Darcy shook his head.

“Then there was Wickham. I would just as soon have started with a sound thrashing, but I must say that your idea to merely toy with him first gave me great satisfaction. To see the rascal lose his composure as he did was worth postponing his appointment with my fist.” Fitzwilliam balled his left hand and tapped it into the palm of his right with a grin.

“He has feared you since we were lads. I was not surprised that his reaction to you today was potent.” Darcy mused.

“I do not recall why...,” Fitzwilliam wondered aloud.

“You had caught a fish that was unusually large, and Wickham threw it back into the river. You did not take this action well.” Darcy replied. “I believe it was above three weeks before his bruises from the trouncing you gave him that day had abated. He has lived in mortal fear of you ever since. Surely you knew that.”

“I had forgotten.” Fitzwilliam roared with laughter. “We were but children!”

“Has he ever crossed you since that day?” Darcy asked pointedly. “I daresay he has not.”

“And now I have thrown his own pretty little fish back into the stream. I do not expect he will find Elizabeth Bennet on his hook now.” Fitzwilliam laughed softly.

“I trust that Wickham's 'hook' will find not one of the Bennet sisters,” Darcy replied soberly. “I have spoken with Mr. Bennet, and upon securing his assurance of secrecy, I warned him against Mr. Wickham, giving him enough of the particulars that he could be in no doubt of the danger. He was most violently distressed. I anticipate he will forbid his daughters to grant any audience to George Wickham in the future.”

“There are many fish in the sea, cousin. You have saved but five.” The colonel frowned. “We cannot easily expose him without great harm coming to Georgiana, but I believe we must do what we can. I will begin tomorrow by revealing what we know of his character to his colonel. Perhaps military discipline will reform him—after I have soundly beaten him for what he did to my cousin, that is.”

“I have not the taste for vengeance that you have.” Darcy replied. “It cannot undo the heartbreak of my sister, nor can it restore her confidence to what it was.”

“If you were to marry, Georgiana would have the gentle influence of a sister to help her overcome it.” Fitzwilliam said meaningfully. “Perhaps someone witty and lively would do.”

Darcy began to pace. “I see what you're about, Fitz. You will have me regret my confession to you before long.”

“I cannot restrain myself, Darcy. To see you standing apart from Miss Bennet today, mooning over her from the window while three other men held her attention was pathetic.” Fitzwilliam hesitated before continuing. “If you have a design on her, you must at least make it known. She thinks you hold her in contempt. However did you manage that?”

“Contempt?” Darcy was astonished. “How came you to this understanding?”

“Merely by conversing with her. You should attempt the same sometime, Darcy—she is a most pleasant conversationalist. She said that you glare at those who displease you, and that you glare at her a great deal. Is that not contempt?”