Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 13

The Gardiners Home

Cheapside

Mid Afternoon

Warm light filtered through the windows of the Gardiners’ nursery, past the drawn green curtains and falling over the occupants of the room. Elizabeth Bennet sat in the center of a sunbeam with her youngest cousin on her knee, and the other three of her aunt and uncle’s children gathered around her. The nursery floor was strewn with toys, blocks and spinning tops and carved wood dolls, a testament to the better part of an hour that Elizabeth had spent with her younger cousins. On the far side of the room by the door was a wooden rocking horse, and opposite were the children’s beds and cribs.

The door to the nursery opened and Mrs. Gardiner entered with two maids at her heels.

“Elizabeth, my dear,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a smile. “Trudy and Naomi are here to care for the children and give them their dinner. Will you not come down and join me and your uncle for tea?”

There were cries of dismay from the children, but Elizabeth, after kissing them all, bade them farewell and made her way down the steep stairs to the main floor, and thereupon into her uncle’s study, which smelled of books and paper and ink.

“Where is Lydia?” she asked her uncle and aunt once the door was closed behind them.

“She is in the sitting room, looking through fashion magazines with Milly in attendance,” Mrs. Gardiner said evenly.

Elizabeth blew out a breath and raised her eyes heavenward. “I assume she treated you to her rather peculiar version of events?”

“She was absolutely outrageous!” Mr. Gardiner declared, his face twisted into a most unaccustomed scowl. “She whined and fussed about Wickham’s imprisonment and displayed no shame about her attempt to free and run off with him! Indeed, she seemed quite proud of herself!”

“I believe she is,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “She sees Mr. Wickham as the noble hero being persecuted by wealthy men, one of whom, of course, is Jane’s fiancé. In truth, I think much of this nonsense is rooted in Lydia’s envy of Jane. My mother, who has cosseted and petted Lydia from birth, has largely ignored my youngest sister ever since Charles offered for Jane.”

The Gardiners exchanged speaking glances, and Mrs. Gardiner said, “Well, let us hear from you, my dear. Your father wrote of his desire to have Lydia sent away to boarding school, but do you think he will truly do so?”

“I do,” Elizabeth replied. “He was genuinely shaken by her reckless and irrational behavior, and he will enjoy having her out of the house. Now that Jane is to be so well settled, there should be no difficulty in paying the fees.”

“And what does your mother think of all this?” Mrs. Gardiner demanded. “I would imagine she would be horrified at having both her favorite children away from Longbourn.”

“Jane will be nearby at Netherfield – although, I suspect that she and Charles will soon wish themselves farther away! My father managed her quite well, really, regarding Lydia – he claimed that Bingley is so concerned by Lydia’s behavior that if something is not done, he might renounce his offer of marriage. This made our mother so fearful that she was eager to send Lydia away, at least for now, until the wedding so that Bingley cannot possibly back out. Not that he would. He loves Jane, but my mother has been waiting for a daughter to marry for so long that she is eager to do anything to smooth the way.”

“Does she know that Lydia is to be sent off to boarding school?” Elizabeth’s uncle asked.

“She does not, nor does Lydia, for that matter. But it will happen, and soon. Mr. Darcy has promised to look into the issue for us, and since he is a diligent sort of man, I am certain he will assist us in the near future.”

Mrs. Gardiner lifted her right eyebrow. “Mr. Darcy, you say? He is assisting in this situation?”

“He is,” her niece replied. “Not surprisingly, perhaps, the master of Pemberley is a far better man than I thought, given that most of my understanding was based on Mr. Wickham’s lies. He has been very helpful these last days.”

“I am glad,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “Well, we will wait on Mr. Darcy, and in the meantime, I must ask that you and Lydia share a bedchamber so that she cannot creep out at night and do something foolish. Not that it seems likely, but…”

“But with Lydia, anything might happen!” Elizabeth agreed in exasperation. “Now, please, do you know how Sophia Cooper is doing?”

“She is staying with a friend of mine, Venetia Hyatt, who has four-month-old twin boys. Sophia is assisting as she is able and learning how to care for babies in the process.”

Elizabeth bent a startled look on her aunt. “Surely Sophia … she will not be keeping…”

“According to Venetia, a local butcher’s son is taking quite an interest in Sophia and is considering marrying her. If he does, Sophia wishes to keep and raise her baby.”

“Truly? This butcher’s son and Sophia can only have met recently.”

“Yes, but she is a lovely girl,” Mrs. Gardiner pointed out.

“She is also kind, sensible, and hardworking. But to raise another man’s child? I hope that both Sophia and her suitor are thinking through the possible ramifications personally and socially.”

“Those are valid points,” her aunt agreed, “and nothing has been decided on yet, but I promise that we will make certain that Sophia is well cared for.”

“Thank you very much,” Elizabeth replied gratefully.

/

Attic Room

Darcy House

George Wickham sat gloomily on the edge of his uncomfortable cot, laid with threadbare sheets and ratty blankets. The conditions he had been forced to reside in over the past two days were utterly rancid, locked in the smallest of Darcy’s servants’ quarters with only bread and water to sustain him. He had not even a window to light his prison, obliged to sit alone in the dimness with only a single tallow candle. On top of all of that, his lip was swollen and his jaw ached from where he had been struck by Darcy two days previously before.

Wickham ground his teeth as he gazed at the flickering lantern, turning over the injustices of the past few days in his mind over and over again. Only weeks ago, he had lived a bountiful existence, with more than enough food and ale to fill his belly and plenty of attractive young women to warm his bed. And now Darcy, that interfering busybody, had ripped it all away from him because he had ruined a mere tenant girl.

The door opened and George Wickham looked up sullenly. A moment later, gloom gave way to genuine terror, and he leaped to his feet and backed into the corner of the room.

“Fitzwilliam!” he hissed. “What are you doing here?”

Richard Fitzwilliam was shorter than Wickham, and not nearly as handsome, but he boasted well-muscled arms and a strong body. He strolled into the room and shut the door behind him and then leaned back against the door with a grin.

“Why, Wickham, I am here in London so that I can escort you to debtors’ prison,” he said cheerfully.

Wickham’s face paled, and he shook his head violently. “No, no! I cannot survive prison. Where is Darcy? I want to see him. Surely he has come to his senses and will allow me to....”

“I fear it is quite too late for that, my lad,” Fitzwilliam interrupted with obvious delight. “The papers are being prepared even now, and by tomorrow morning, you will be settled among the other miserable souls at Marshalsea.”

Wickham gulped and slumped against the wall. “Fitzwilliam, you cannot…. Please, I am begging you! I will die in prison!”

“Many men do,” the colonel agreed coolly, taking a few steps closer to his prisoner. “But in my view, you have already been living on borrowed time for some months; if I had been the one to find you tricking my young ward into an elopement in Ramsgate, I would not have hesitated to stick a bayonet through your gullet.”

This was sufficiently descriptive that Wickham’s legs wobbled beneath him, and he collapsed into a miserable heap on the floor.

/

On the Road to Cheapside

Noon

The Next Day

“He literally went kicking and screaming,” Colonel Fitzwilliam remarked, looking out the window of the Darcy’s carriage at the other carriages rumbling to and fro along London’s busy streets. It was a chilly day, and an icy rain was falling, and both men were thankful to be in a cozy carriage.

Darcy suppressed a shiver and said solemnly, “I am grateful for your assistance in carrying him off. I know he deserves it, but it is still …”

He trailed off and blew out a breath before saying, “We were friends once.”

“That is true, but he went astray many years ago,” his cousin said. “In any case, I no longer wish to speak of the reprobate, especially as I will soon have the great honor of meeting Miss Elizabeth Bennet herself! I am certainly looking forward to making the acquaintance of the lady who has entranced my dour cousin!”

“Behave, Richard,” Darcy warned.

“Oh, I will, I will!” he replied with a grin.