Part 1
Here is what Jane Austen tells us at the end of P&P:
"Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth...he bought an estate in a neighbouring county to Derbyshire, and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source of happiness, were within thirty miles of each other."
"Though Darcy could never receive him [Wickham] at Pemberley, yet, for Elizabeth's sake, he assisted him farther in his profession...with the Bingleys they [The Wickham's] both of them frequently staid so long, that even Bingley's good humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to talk of giving them a hint to be gone."
"Elizabeth, I hope you have received a letter from your sister Jane that can clarify this undecipherable mess I have received from Bingley."
Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy looked up from her letter writing to see her husband standing in front of her writing desk with a look of complete vexation spread across his handsome face.
"Is it so bad?"
"Yes! I sometimes wonder why he bothers with correspondence since his recipients cannot ever read what he has written. I would loath to see his business correspondence-he can be so careless. How he does get anything accomplished is somewhat of a mystery. But I believe this is perhaps the most unreadable letter he has ever sent."
"Quite an accomplishment then," Elizabeth laughed as her husband took a seat on the settee.
"Jane has sent no news? She is always diligent and intelligible."
"True. But I am afraid she has sent nothing since last week. Having informed me of their safe return to Tethering she indicated that she would likely not write again for at least another week. It appears some instructions she left before departing were not at all carried out as she wished and she has a bit of a disorganized household to attend to."
"Pity. Perhaps then you might have more success with Bingley's letter then I. I confess I have not the patience."
Darcy motioned for her to join him on the settee. As Elizabeth took the proffered seat, he added, "I am not disturbing you, am I?"
"You, my dear, are never a disturbance."
"Good!" Darcy said as he placed a kiss on his wife's cheek and handed her the folded letter. "Now please do me the kindness of deciphering this mess."
Elizabeth took the offered letter and began to peruse it. Darcy watched with delight as her countenance displayed the extreme difficulty she was encountering as she attempted to read Bingley's letter. He thought his wife looked quite adorable in her confusion.
"You see," he said after some time, "I was not exaggerating."
"No you were not. But I believe I have managed, more or less."
Elizabeth read as best she could:
Tethering, ____shire
April 181_Darcy, You and Lizzy must come to Tethering earlier then planned, a fortnight earlier at least. I find I cannot manage at all without your counsel. You did say that it would not be the added land that I would find challenging, but the tenants. I say, you were right again-very annoying habit of yours Darcy. Why, when we first arrived they were all so complying, but then you did say that would change once the weather changed. And so now the weather has changed there is not a day it would seem when I have not some tenant at my door with some complaint or disagreement or some solicitation in the post from some one I have never heard of and I know not what else. They all seem such fine fellows I would be so displeased to disappoint, but imagine I must, for they cannot all be correct. It all puts me in mind of you taking on Pemberley at such a young age, just one and twenty when your father fell ill, and I wonder how you managed. Why Tethering is half the size of Pemberley and now with the new lands you have purchased certainly even less. Netherfield seemed so much easier to manage--no bothersome disputes between tenants and all. What a headache. Do come and give your old friend a hand. What else are brothers for? And Jane's confinement will be coming on ever so quickly I am sure she would be delighted with an extra fortnight of Lizzy's company. And of course we haven't seen your boy since the christening. Bingley
Elizabeth put down the letter with a sigh. "He appears, my dearest husband, to be as muddled as his penmanship."
"Yes," Darcy laughed, adding more seriously, "I am concerned about him though. He has yet to learn to be firm and confident in his decisions. He must be more decisive if he is to manage his estate well and not be managed by his estate. And then, he has kept on the steward who was already there, but I am not confident in this fellow's abilities at all. Tethering was not as well managed as it could be; in fact, quite the contrary."
"Whether it be wisdom or humility I know not, but whichever is required, he has enough of it to know that he needs your guidance."
"You do not believe that I am being impertinent and interfering, trying to manage his business as I was want to do in the past, do you?"
Elizabeth laughed at his apprehension. Married now more then a year and a half, she had been given ample opportunity to fully understand just how much Bingley depended on the judgment and guidance of his friend. "No, dearest William. You are only giving assistance where it has been requested. Unfortunately, I do not believe we could be at Tethering a fortnight earlier then planned. Lord and Lady Matlock will be arriving next week and plan to stay the month. I am afraid we will need to leave our plans unchanged."
"Yes, we will. I am eager for my aunt and uncle's visit. They were disappointed to have been absent from our boy's christening, but the roads in Scotland were impassable."
"The important thing is that his godparent's were not stuck in Scotland."
Darcy took his wife's hand into his own and started to play distractedly, almost shyly with her fingers. "You are no longer displeased with my cousin Edward? I understand, Elizabeth, that you would have preferred that Fitzwilliam be our son's godfather since you and he are so fond of each other, and not his brother Edward of whom you are not so fond, but you do now agree that we did well, no?"
"I think we came to an excellent compromise, my dear. Will is the heir to Pemberley and so having the next Earl of Matlock as his godfather is appropriate. I understand now the importance of strengthening the connection for Will's sake. But your asking Aunt Gardiner to be his godmother, well, I cannot tell you how much it moved me that you would."
"Well, we must ensure that Will has powerful good sense as well as powerful friends, my love."
"Yes," Elizabeth laughed, "Aunt Gardiner will ensure he has good sense. As for your cousin Edward, I believe I misjudged him. I thought him too much like Lady Catherine for my liking, but he was nothing but civil and kind to me when he was here for Will's christening."
"I am pleased. I do not like for us to have discord on a matter of such import."
"Nor do I my dear, but it is resolved. Think no more of it."
"Very well, I shan't." With a smile, Darcy rose from the settee to return to his study, "I shall write to Bingley then, and tell him our plans must remain unaltered."
Elizabeth took a deep breath and let out a contented sigh. Darcy saw the small smile tugging at her lips, and stood in front of her, filled with a quiet joy as he looked down upon her much adored face. "What is it, Elizabeth?"
"I am still all astonishment, William. That in addition to all my other sources of happiness, I have my dearest Jane at such an easy distance. I wonder how such happiness is to be borne."
"You are happy, my love?"
"You know full well that I am."
"Yes. But I am a spoiled man and I do so like to hear it from your very own, very lovely lips."
Elizabeth looked up into his face. "I am very happy," she said, delighting at the broad and warm smile that now graced his face, a smile that always succeeded in taking her very breath away.
"Good!" he replied succinctly, as he leaned down and bestowed a kiss first upon her hand and then upon her lips.
When Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy, along with their six month old son Will, arrived at Tethering just a month beyond the receipt of Bingley's letter, it could be said that two more united couples would be hard to discover, both within the couples and among the couples. In truth, they exhibited all the ease and intimacy that would be expected when two intimate sisters wed two intimate friends. Since their shared wedding day, the two couples had been together for extended periods twice in London and twice at Pemberley, most recently for Will's christening. Although Darcy had ridden to ____shire to visit a few days at Tethering when the Bingley's first settled in the neighborhood, Elizabeth had not, arriving as they did so soon after the birth of her son, ensuring then that the joy of the sisters for this particular visit was keen. The joy each felt at this newly established close proximity would be difficult to overstate, and as the Darcy's settled in for a fortnight visit, the foursome exercised all the felicity of their companionship and trust.
If, as was just contended, it could be said that two more united couples would be hard to discover, it could also be said that two more different couples could not be found.
My dear reader, take this not as a slight when I say that Charles and Jane Bingley were not in the least altered by the matrimonial state, excepting of course the degree of felicity that one felt and received from the company of the other. Each was of a character that whether regarded at five or at five and twenty was as constant as the rising sun. Jane, in particular, was of a character that seemed to have been formed at birth: lovely to behold, virtuous, all that is kindness and goodness, an angel, as her husband so frequently intoned. Upon her marriage Jane had simply settled into the role and place that had always seemed her due, with no material change to her person. Her marriage had not removed her, after all, to a distinctly different sphere. While Bingley was a man with a comfortable fortune, it was a fortune earned in trade-much as his sisters would forget this truth-and his annual income was not inconceivably larger then that of Jane's father of Longbourn Manor. Indeed, had said estate not been entailed away from the female line, Jane would have been heir to an estate whose income, while much smaller than Bingley's, was of superior derivation. Additionally, when she had gone from her father's home to that of her husband's, it was only a three mile journey and she remained in the bosom of all those she had known since her girlhood. As can be well imagined, an easier income in a girl as steady as Jane will not manifestly alter character. Her Bingley, in a similar fashion, was of a steady and practiced character, and if he changed at all it was simply a slow maturing that allowed him to learn to be more confident in his own decisions.
That they were a happy couple could be disputed by none. A union of two such gentle and obliging souls, where each is concerned always with the happiness of the other, cannot but be felicitous. They lived together in comfort, ease and goodness, their union based on true and constant affection. The Bingleys were not, however, what would be called a passionate union. Passion depends as much upon trials as upon the extremes of feeling that the Bingleys were each constitutionally unable to exercise-the difficulties that they suffered in their courtship were not due to their own heated characters, but rather to their very trusting and complying ways. They came together with ease, they were separated by the machinations of others with ease, and they came back together again with ease. Completely unlike, it must be observed, Elizabeth and Darcy. It is not that one form of affection should be preferred above the other, they are simply different, and if the Bingley union was distinguished by the contours of harmony, the Darcy union was by the contours of passion.
Elizabeth and Darcy had traversed a much harder path one to the other then did their sister and friend-each had been required to face truths about themselves as well as challenges from without. And in this path they perhaps came to know each other with more thoroughness then Charles and Jane could be said to know each other-it was not in the character of either Jane or Charles to analyze and quarry into the hearts and intentions of another, rather they let the goodness and instinct of their own hearts judge for them and they accepted others with less judgment or question than either Darcy or Elizabeth were want to do. Unlike the Bingley's, Darcy and Elizabeth had revealed to each other not just the smiles and simple misunderstandings of courtship, but the deepest follies of their characters, as well as the most sublime and generous instincts of their souls. Guided on by heady emotions, their painful path to marriage had allowed Elizabeth and Darcy to establish an uncommon honesty that resulted in the deep trust and communication that each required from a partner, and through the intimacy of marriage this deepened still more, so that they were in each others absolute confidence and they opened their souls to each other as completely as two people are able.
It had not always been easy after marriage either, for the challenges facing Elizabeth upon entering the married state were far greater then those facing Jane in her situation. Elizabeth entered a very different world from that she was accustomed to. Although a gentleman's daughter, it could not compare to the world of peers and ancient fortunes to which she was joined. Furthermore, Elizabeth's character was far more of an evolving variety then Jane's. In truth, Elizabeth's character was one that had been waiting all along for an opportunity to grow and blossom-much as she would defend her former Meryton neighbors, what Darcy had once said was true, the society was necessarily more limited, and in better and more varied society, with great responsibilities and demands, Elizabeth flourished, as her natural charms and talents were given an opportunity to bloom. As Darcy watched her and assisted her as she grappled with her new situation, facing every challenge with the wit, intelligence and liveliness that had so endeared her to him, he found himself daily more enamored. His patience and wise counsel likewise left her ever more delighted with his excellent character and tender regard.
Elizabeth was clever enough to know what she knew and what she did not and comfortable enough in her sense of self to not be lost to herself. In addition to Darcy himself, she had early on sought out the counsel of Darcy's aunt, Lady Matlock, regarding the expectations surrounding a hostess in London's finest circles, as well as regarding the mistress of a large and powerful estate, and she had approached her Ladyship with such sense and astuteness as to form the foundations of a life long intimacy. By the end of their first season in London, Elizabeth had established herself as an admired hostess-invitations to dine at Darcy house were greatly coveted, not by the transient fashionable set, but by the most established and secure of the London set-precisely those who were supposed to have shunned her. Evenings hosted at Darcy house were of such exquisite elegance and quality as his income ensured and their mutual taste for the unpretentious enhanced; but it was the warmth and wit of the hostess that distinguished them. Evenings at Darcy house were quickly talked of, if not as the most fashionable, certainly as among the most sophisticated and intelligent. Darcy was more then pleased-for himself, for Georgiana, for Elizabeth herself--and found he had never enjoyed the duties of society as much as at his own table with his beloved wife as hostess.
It is no less fair to say that if Elizabeth flourished in her new position, Darcy was also altered. Always a liberal and generous man, he became a man of greater compassion as well; he became easier in the company of strangers, although he retained always a marked degree of reserve; he became softened in his judgments, but no less decisive or commanding. He learned to laugh more among his intimates. As each flourished within their union, their union itself flourished, with each opening to the other with the complete and unrestrained intimacy that their passionate and strong characters demanded.
So it was these four fully realized and intimate personages relished in a fortnight of easy company and sincere warmth. The sisters spent hours in blissful conversation and confidences-- about motherhood, their husbands, their homes, their happiness-while the brothers were not less forthcoming one with the other.
One particularly lovely morning, with the spring sun invitingly warm and the trees in that delicate state of early bloom, Elizabeth collected her son from the nursery and Jane from her sitting room and suggested that they gather their husbands and have a picnic.
"There is that lovely spot up on the hill by the big oak tree Jane. There is such a fine prospect of the house from there."
Jane smiled tenderly. "Why am I not surprised that in just three days you have found the perfect location for a picnic and I myself do not believe that I have ever seen the spot."
"It is a little farther then you would walk and then I suppose in your condition you are not riding at all."
"I feel now that I must see it, so shall we collect our husbands and have a picnic then?" Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement and the three went to the library where Darcy and Bingley were in consultation. Upon entering the sisters smiled at the scene before them: Darcy was seated at the table, papers spread out before him, leaning back in the chair as though the very master of the house, while Bingley paced the room nervously.
"Bingley," Darcy was saying, "you simply must get a better grasp on these details or you shall never make of Tethering what you should."
"Cannot my steward take care of this particular concern?"
"You are fully aware that I have no confidence in your steward. Regardless of that fact, the instructions must come from you, Bingley! How can you be so indecisive? You are no longer a bachelor letting a quiet little estate. You are now a landowner, a married man whose wife is with child. Why such reticence to take on the full mantle of responsibility? You are perfectly capable if you will but exert yourself."
"Do we disturb you, gentlemen?" came Jane's sweet voice.
"No my angel!" Bingley responded with eagerness. "In truth, if you were it would be most welcome. Darcy is lecturing me as thoroughly as though he were a practiced old tutor."
Elizabeth could not help but smile at the look of annoyance that passed over Darcy's face. "We came to suggest a picnic," she said as she entered the room and went to her husband's side. Darcy stood and took his son into his arms, and then lifted his wife's hand and placed a tender kiss thereon.
"What an excellent notion!" Bingley cried.
"And what of all this business?" Darcy asked, gesturing with a sweep of the hand to the papers encumbering the table.
"It can wait."
"Bingley!" he replied impatiently, "We are here only another ten days and there is much to be reviewed."
"How do you bear it Lizzy?" Bingley laughed. "He is always so responsible and chastising."
"Be it as you wish Bingley, but Tethering was not at all well managed by the previous occupants and it would be better for you to get atop it now. But by all means, let us leave it if you wish. I would certainly prefer spending my time at picnic in company of my wife and child then tutoring myself on the details of your drainage problems."
As the two couples laughed at the absurdity of the situation, a compromise was settled upon and a brief turn about the garden was indulged in before Darcy dragged Bingley back to the library for more lessons on estate management.
Elizabeth had not been able to put the notion of a picnic by the old oak tree out of her mind, however, and so a few days later, another beautiful and cool spring day, with Jane tired and resting and Bingley finally deep in the throws of his "lessons", as he now called them, she convinced her husband to leave Bingley's concerns to himself, and the three went themselves for a quiet picnic. While Elizabeth, Darcy and Will were at their picnic Jane and Charles were surprised by the arrival of two unanticipated guests: Mr. and Mrs. George Wickham.
Part 2
"Wickham!" Bingley cried as the couple was escorted into the drawing room. "We had not expected you for another month at least."
"My dear brother, we found ourselves unexpectedly able to avail ourselves of the opportunity to visit you posthaste, and so, unwilling to deny my dearest Lydia the opportunity to visit with our dear sister, you find us at your door, we hope, most welcomed." Wickham was every bit the simpering, loquacious man he had ever been known to be.
"Of course, most welcome," Bingley stammered, wondering how Darcy would take to the sudden appearance of Wickham. "You will find we are not alone. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy have been with us this last fortnight and will remain through this week."
"Mr. and Mrs. Darcy! How delightful then, a house full of brothers and sisters!" Wickham smiled his most congenial smile, bestowing upon his handsome face that appearance of goodness so often misread by new acquaintances and some old acquaintances alike. At that moment it was difficult for Jane to recall all the unkind and ungentlemanly things he had done.
Lydia quickly took to her rooms to rest in the fashion of "great ladies" she joked, and Wickham, eager to digest the information he had received from Bingley, went out for a stroll. He would need to decide, he could see, what attitude to take with Darcy. They had not seen each other since his marriage to Lydia. As he continued his brisk stroll, he made his was up a crest and found himself looking down upon the object of his contemplation at picnic with his wife and child. Keeping himself well hidden and remaining still, Wickham watched the scene unfolding below him with no small curiosity. It was a peak into the private life of Darcy that he had not seen in many a years. He was, as of old, reluctantly attracted.
They had been there for some time already and the blanket was strewn with empty plates and half empty glasses of wine. The child crawled at the foot of the blanket, smiling and playing with some unseen toy while his parents looked on. Elizabeth sat, with her bonnet removed, on the opposite end of the blanket from the child. Leaning on one hand and conversing with her husband, her face was alight with a small constant smile. Wickham noted that she was far more handsome then he had recalled her to be-in his mind he had taken some satisfaction in recalling her more in Lydia's likeness, but was now most unhappily recalled to the untruth of his recollection. Darcy had removed his coat and was lying down on his side, stretched across the blanket, leaning on his elbow, looking as relaxed as a man could possibly look. It was a picture of domestic felicity, perfectly in keeping with the calm and loveliness of the bountiful spring about them.
Wickham began to approach the family, and as he did so he watched as Elizabeth leaned toward her husband and gave him a kiss-a sweet, brief kiss. Without rising from his reclined position, Darcy lifted his hand, ran his fingers through her hair and with his hand resting at the back of her neck, brought her back to his lips for a longer, deeper kiss. Wickham arrived unnoticed just as they separated from this second, enthusiastic kiss.
"I did not ever consider that husbands and wives would indulge in such ardent embraces in the midst of a park on a spring day. I never took you for a romantic Darcy," Wickham remarked unceremoniously, as he leaned down and took the child into his arms. "I will grant what a pretty picture you make."
Darcy and Elizabeth were now looking upon Wickham with unmistakable surprise, much to that gentleman's amusement.
"Mr. Wickham!" Elizabeth cried.
Darcy, not acknowledging the complete shock of Wickham's appearance, immediately stood up and took his son from Wickham's arms. His voice even and his face suddenly expressionless, he remarked, "It would remain a pretty picture if you would continue on your way."
"Why Darcy, are you not happily surprised? Do you not appreciate my company? I would willingly play with the heir to Pemberley while you continue in your lovers embrace. I do have some experience entertaining little Pemberley heirs, after all."
Elizabeth rose now, having regained her composure. "Mr. Wickham, I trust my sister is with you? And she is well?"
Wickham bowed elegantly. "She is well my dear sister, but is now resting after our travels."
Taking her son into her arms Elizabeth turned to her husband, "I believe we have been out of doors long enough for an afternoon. I should like to put Will down for a nap. Shall we return to the house?" Turning now to Wickham she said, before walking off, "Mr. Wickham, we will, I trust, see you and my sister at dinner."
Darcy nodded his agreement and turned to pick up his coat and walking stick. While donning his coat, Wickham, all the while staring openly at Elizabeth as she walked away and then stopped to await her husband at some distance from the pair, began to speak in his most insinuating tones, "Off so quickly Darcy? When was the last time we had the pleasure of each other's company, dear brother?" Darcy cringed at the familiarity. "If I am not entirely mistaken it was, I believe, at the time of my wedding to dear Lydia. I wondered then you would go to such lengths for such a silly girl."
"That is hardly the manner in which a gentleman refers to his wife," Darcy replied evenly.
"But you have long claimed I am no such thing. In any case, it soon became quit clear why you went through the great bother and expense. And really, what man would not take the bother considering the rewards." Gesturing his head toward Elizabeth, he continued, "For the affections and tender attentions of that woman I am sure many men would be inclined to the same and a great deal more. I always suspected she was a woman of great passions! Was I right, Darcy?"
Before Wickham had finished speaking, Darcy had lifted his walking stick and slid his hand down the smooth wood until he held it at the middle, lifting the heavy, round silver knob perched on its end, he placed it under Wickham's chin and pushed up ever so slightly. Wickham wobbled on his feet as he felt the cool silver push into his chin. He held his ground and looked straight into Darcy's immobile face. Darcy spoke quietly, with a controlled rage that Wickham knew was best left unchallenged.
"You would be wise not to presume that the unfortunate nature of our alliance would in any way ensure my forbearance of your behavior. Watch your words Wickham, or you shall have much to repine. One more inappropriate or disrespectful word about my wife and I shall not hesitate to thrash you to an inch of your worthless life."
They stared at each other for a moment, neither saying a word, until Darcy pushed his walking stick a little more deeply into Wickham's chin, adding, "I trust you understand my meaning."
Dropping his walking stick, he then turned and joined his wife and child who were now waiting for him some distance away from the disturbed scene of the picnic. Elizabeth looked at him silently and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Lifting his son into his arms he said tersely, "Not now, Elizabeth. Let us go back to the house." Elizabeth acquiesced and placing her hand upon her husband's arm the three returned to the house.
Wickham watched as they walked back to the house. There was nothing in the quiet, content domesticity that the Darcy family evidently had that he desired-he was still and would forever be a man drawn to amusements of a decidedly non-domestic bent-but there was something in him that could not abide to see Darcy happy. He sat down on the blanket and poured himself some wine as he contemplated what he might or might not do these few days that they would be together at Tethering-for he was sure that Darcy's pride would not allow him to hasten their departure for his presence. That would give the impression of flight, and Darcy would never allow for that.
"That was a most enlightening exchange," Wickham whispered as he popped a grape into his mouth and watched their figures grow smaller. "If I am clever, I shall get something else out of the old devil."
Returned to the house, Elizabeth went to the nursery to put Will down for a nap. Once he was asleep, she gave some instructions to the nursemaid and then went in search of her husband. She found him in their rooms and as she entered Elizabeth could see his tension in the set of his shoulders and the inclination of his head as he stood at the mantel with his back to the room. She silently walked to his side and placed her hand on his back. She could feel his deep, almost labored breathing.
"Jane tells me that their arrival was quite unexpected," Elizabeth said quietly.
"Why am I not surprised?" Darcy snorted.
They stood for a moment in silence, Elizabeth rubbing Darcy's back, Darcy attempting to control his ire.
"That man drives me to such degrees of agitation, Elizabeth." He said finally, in a low, raspy voice. "I cannot explain it. His mere presence is enough and I feel such terrible things rising in my heart. His insolence, his audacity and offensiveness."
"What did he say to you?"
"What is of little consequence, he said it just to taunt me and press me. But he knows how-better then anyone else."
"We need not remain William. We are meant to leave in a few days time as it is, it is of no consequence if we leave now."
"No!" he replied angrily, causing Elizabeth, startled by his tone, to step away. "We will not be chased from your sister's home by that blackguard!"
He paused a moment and took a deep breath before turning to Elizabeth and taking her hands in his own. "Forgive me Elizabeth. I shall depend upon your forbearance these next few days. I am afraid you will see me not at my best. Those parts of my character you have had cause to censure in the past will, I am afraid, show themselves again. I would hope that you would not be too alarmed."
Lifting her hand, she caressed his cheek tenderly. "No my dear, I shall not be." She looked at him a moment and then added playfully, "I will look upon it instead as another opportunity to conquer your temper, as I once did."
Grateful for her tenderness, he replied in a warm and affectionate tone that Elizabeth knew was reserved for herself alone. "There will be no such opportunity, my love. You have long since conquered me. There is nothing left for you to conquer. You have my entire soul at your complete disposition."
"In that case, perhaps I should look upon it as an opportunity to comfort you."
"And how will you comfort me? For I begin to believe that I will need a great deal of comforting."
"Will this do?" she smiled as she placed her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"It will make a good start," he replied playfully as he took her into his arms. After a moment he heard her sigh. Lifting her face to his, he could see a look akin to woe in her eyes. "What is it, my love?"
"It seems you are always having to bear something on my account: Lady Catherine's disapprobation, my mother's indiscretions, my silly sisters, and now Wickham. While I bear nothing but happiness. You give me so much and bear so much mortification in turn."
"Elizabeth!" he cried in a gently toned reproof. "Do you really not know after all this time?" He caressed her face, kissed her softly and lifted her chin that she would look him in the eyes. "I am not a man who displays my happiness with an overflow of mirth, but that does not mean I do not feel it so. And I know that you understand how deeply I feel, even if others do not. Elizabeth, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, you have given me such joy. We share the truest comforts of companionship and all the delights of passion. You have given me our son. With you at my side I have discovered such a life that here"--he pointed to his heart--"I am verily singing with exultation."
As he spoke these words a smile so open and disarming extended across her beautiful face as to leave him rapt with devotion. "For you I would endure a regiment full of Wickham's if need be."
"But it does not prevent that I should wish it different," she replied almost petulantly.
Darcy laughed and replied teasingly, "Well, if you feel something must be borne, I warn you now that you will be required to bear my very ill humor over the coming days. Knowing as you do how very boorish my ill humor can be, is that not sufficient recompense?"
"Perhaps," she smiled. "I do so adore you Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"I know," he answered and kissed her again.
When they went down for dinner Darcy was in more control of his emotions, prepared now to see Wickham, although more then just a little displeased at the thought of sitting across the table from the man. Darcy was throughout as silent and taciturn as he had ever been known to be, with a dark, glum expression on his face. Wickham himself was surprisingly quiet, although his expression was decidedly one of delighted smugness rather then glumness, evidently enjoying the discomfort and displeasure his mere presence elicited in Darcy. Jane and Charles did their best to defuse the tension, but eventually everyone was content with letting Lydia chatter away in her usual senseless manner. She talked about Newcastle, her favorite soldiers, the balls, Jane's new estate, her frustration that Kitty was not permitted to visit, her sisters' dresses and her own need for new gowns. She rattled away until she came to rest upon the very delicate subject, dear reader can you imagine, of visiting Pemberley.
"For all this is such a grand house, is it really nothing to Pemberley as my dear Wickham says? I should like to see Pemberley. I cannot understand why you have not invited us Lizzy. Perhaps now we are so close you shall."
Darcy stiffened completely and he shot Elizabeth a look almost of desperation, not at all lost upon Wickham.
"We can discuss that at another time Lydia," Elizabeth replied tersely. If there was only one established fact between Elizabeth and Darcy regarding guests to Pemberley it was that George Wickham would never be one. "For the present let us enjoy being in one another's company here at Tethering."
"Lord Lizzy, you are become such a snob!" Wickham could not restrain a soft chuckle; never had his little wife's impropriety been so delightful.
"Lydia!" Jane cried.
"Oh Jane, why not reprimand Lizzy? After all Pemberley has more interest for me then anyone else in the family. Wickham spent all of his youth there!" Suddenly Lydia was taken by a delightful idea and started to giggle merrily, quite forgetting the notion of visiting Pemberley for the moment.
"Why, Mr. Darcy," she cried, "I had not thought it before, but you knew my dear Wickham as a boy. What was he like?"
"Your dear Wickham was then very much what he remains. While he may have been misunderstood at one time, I believe his character has been remarkably constant."
Poor Lydia, the only one at the table ignorant of Darcy's very distinct and very ill opinions regarding Wickham's character, was therefore the only one at the table that did not grasp the meaning of Darcy's words-the flagrant insult was not escaped on Wickham himself, however, and he began to smart with as much ill will as Darcy himself. Moreover, Darcy's tone was so scornful as would have left most observers quaking in fear, but Lydia, never intimidated and never too perceptive, felt none of it.
"Oh fiddlesticks, why should I care about whether he was misunderstood or not? Was he a scamp?"
"As I said, Mrs. Wickham, he has been quite constant."
"I suppose your Mr. Darcy will not say anything more. Why does he not talk more Lizzy?"
"I assure you Lydia, he speaks quite enough for my liking."
"Do not you wish Wickham would tell you about Mr. Darcy when he was a boy? I should think now that you have a boy of your own you should like to know."
"I do not particularly wish to hear Mr. Wickham's tales, no. I prefer to hear them directly from my husband."
"Oh Lord, how droll you all are! Well tell me Wickham. What was Mr. Darcy like as a boy?"
Wickham responded with that strange sneering civility that he was so uniquely capable of. "Darcy has always been dreadfully proper, Lydia dearest. Far too proper for your liking. I could never bother with my lessons, for example, but young Master Darcy always took his lessons to heart. Did you not Darcy? And never misbehaved! After all the Darcy reputation must always be protected. The Darcy's, Lydia, are always correct and proper."
"Lord, what a bore, always correct and proper. A boy should always misbehave a little, don't you think?"
"I misbehaved as much as any boy will," Darcy responded while watching Wickham with fixed, impenetrable eyes. "But without becoming dissolute." Darcy paused and watched as Wickham's upper lip twitched. "And yes, I certainly did tend to my father's lessons. Particularly those lessons regarding loyalty and honor. If I am not mistaken, Wickham, they are the same lessons your own estimable father gave you. Are these the lessons you could not tend to, or were there others?"
Silence collapsed in on the room and the enmity shared by these two men, almost brothers now, permeated the room--verily suffocating the room. They stared at each other, as though each daring the other to be the first to look away.
Finally Bingley broke the silence with an uneven and uncertain exclamation: "Well! I dare say I care nothing for the boyhood of either of you. Let us change the topic or I shall bore you all with topic of my own youth."
"It is a lovely evening," Jane joined. "Shall we take a turn in the garden then?"
"Yes," Elizabeth added. "An excellent notion."
And so they all rose from the table. Darcy, recalled now to the situation, approached Jane before she quit the room and quietly whispered to her, "Please allow me to apologize, Jane. I should not have behaved in such a manner at your table."
"Do not concern yourself, dear brother, I know his appearance was very unexpected and cannot be but most unpleasant for you. Think no more of it."
As she left the room, Elizabeth and Darcy were left to themselves. "She really is all goodness," Darcy remarked. Elizabeth said nothing, only nodding her head in agreement. "And I must apologize to you as well Elizabeth."
"No dear," she smiled. "You have given me ample warning that you would be quite ill humored. Now that I have seen it, I believe we established that it falls on me to comfort you. So what say you we take a stroll in the garden and I will sing a quiet, gentle song just for your ears alone, just as I do for our son, and we shall chase the beast away."
"I should like that," Darcy said quietly, and placing her arm in his he led her out into the garden.
While the others spent only a quarter of an hour in the garden, Elizabeth and Darcy strolled together for nearly a full hour, all the time unknowingly under the watchful eye of Mr. George Wickham.
Part 3
Most mornings at Tethering Elizabeth and Darcy--their son Will with them--were the first at breakfast. They would breakfast together and then Darcy would go out for a morning ride. Elizabeth, in a gesture she found rather sentimental but which she could not resist, would wait in the morning room until she could see Darcy riding across the field that opened up before the back of the house. With her son in her arms, she would then stand at the window and say to the boy: "Look, Will, there is your Papa. See what a fine seat he has. He is the best of men my darling boy, and you shall be just like him." Satisfied, she would then take Will to the nursery and while he was being bathed and dressed by the nursemaid, take a brisk walk herself, meeting Darcy as he returned from his ride.
On this morning, just as Darcy had stood up to depart for his morning ride, and while he was placing a kiss on his son's forehead, Wickham entered the room.
"Always such a picture of domestic felicity!" He cried. Darcy's hand was on Elizabeth's shoulder and she felt him tense immediately.
"Mr. Wickham," Elizabeth answered, "I would have never imagined you for an early riser."
"A man needs only so much sleep, dear sister. And since everyone retired so ridiculously early last evening."
"I wonder why you came then, if the habits of this house are not to your liking," Elizabeth replied archly-she found she could not speak to this man with even constrained civility; he had ill-used so many people she cared for and was, from what she could gather, a less then ideal husband to her sister. As Wickham grimaced at her impertinence, she turned to Darcy and continued, "Enjoy your ride William, we shall see you upon your return."
Kissing her hand, Darcy left the room in silence.
Elizabeth, as was her want, soon went to the window with Will in her arms to await the appearance of Darcy. Wickham, once he had procured a cup of coffee, came to stand at her side and watched Darcy galloping leisurely across the wide-open field. It was a fine sight: Darcy's horse was a large black Arabian, with long strong legs and an elegant stride, and Darcy did indeed have an excellent seat. He rode with ease and confidence and with the early morning mist beginning to burn off the rich green grass, it was an altogether charming picture.
"He always was a fine horseman." As Elizabeth made no reply to Wickham's compliment of her husband, Wickham continued to watch as he took another sip of coffee.
"Darcy and I use to race each other at Pemberley."
"Did you? And who was the better horseman?"
"Oh, Darcy frequently won. But then, he had an unfair advantage."
"An unfair advantage? And what would that have been?"
"He always had the finest horse in Pemberley's stables, were as I was left to ride whatever horse happened to be available."
"Although I am no expert on horses, Mr. Wickham, I am confident in saying that any horse from Pemberley's stables would be a superior horse. Therefore, any available horse would still be an excellent horse. Am I correct?"
"That would probably be correct."
"Perhaps then, it was not a question of unfair advantages, but of horsemanship. But then, I know so little about it." Smiling her sweet, arch smile, Elizabeth left the room with Wickham smarting and staring out the window. He recalled how he had admired Elizabeth Bennet for her wit and her sharp mind, but he did not like at all the very loyal Elizabeth Darcy's tendency since his arrival at Tethering to exercise her talents at his own expense. He was sure there was no better way to wound her then to embarrass her husband-the question was how to do that without jeopardizing his greater interests.
The following morning when Darcy went out to the stables for his morning ride he found Wickham in riding clothes and eagerly awaiting his arrival. Bingley's best horse was saddled and being walked by one of the grooms. Darcy barely acknowledged Wickham's presence, and asked the groom if his own horse, Trajan, was saddled and ready for him.
As the grooms brought each man their horse, Wickham said in a jovial and loud voice, "When we were lads, Darcy, we were want to race on a fine morning such as this one."
Darcy looked at Wickham with a closed and aloof expression on his face, and replied indifferently, "So we were."
"That is a fine looking animal. I should imagine it rarely has an opportunity to run full out. Shall we then? Are you up for a challenge?"
By now the grooms were listening attentively, hoping the gentleman would agree to an enthusiastic race across the fields. Darcy looked at Wickham's happily smiling face, listened to the smug confidence of his voice, and reflected for a moment on his general shamelessness in Darcy's presence-as though on this accidental meeting they should have met as old and indifferent acquaintances at the least, as acknowledged brothers at best. It occurred to Darcy that removing the expression of self-satisfied haughtiness from Wickham's face would be a very pleasant sensation.
"Very well Wickham, what shall be the course?"
"Excellent!" Wickham cried, perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm for his studied indifference; but he was filled with such a delightful sense of destiny that he could not contain his excitement. He would enjoy this moment, he thought. Darcy abhorred losing at anything he considered himself proficient-billiards, fencing, horses--and to lose at his own hands would be glorious-more wonderful then all the winnings he had ever managed on the horses.
The men were soon astride their horses. A course was determined that would take the men across the wide-flat field that opened up behind the house and could be seen from the breakfast room, over a fence and into a second, larger field lined with a row of bushes at the far end, where they would cross a stream and a third field, ride up a small hill to where stood the unmistakable large oak that Elizabeth so admired, and then back again.
They called a groom to set them off. All the stable and grounds hands now surrounded them, eager to witness the race. Before they began, Wickham exclaimed challengingly, so that all could hear, "May the best man win, brother!"
"Here, here!" shouted out the grooms.
Inside, the rest of the party was now at breakfast and Bingley, hearing the shout out, went to the window just as the two horses took off and saw them tearing across the field. "I say!" he cried. Immediately the entire party was outside watching the two men on horseback racing across the countryside. Lydia was all enthusiasm, but Elizabeth felt a strange knotting in her stomach; Jane and Charles were simply confused.
As they drew farther away the excited grooms and stable hands approached where Bingley and his party stood watching.
"The G'ntl'men are ridin' like hell fire and damnation!" cried the head groomsman. Seeing Bingley and the ladies behind him, he quickly bowed and apologized for his language.
"Not at all," Bingley remarked. "But tell me Green, why are they riding so ferociously?"
"Ay sir, 'tis quite a speed. The one g'ntl'man, Mr. Wickham, challenged the other, Mr. Darcy, to a race. Said, may the best man win, and so they set off like two wild creatures themselves sir, as you see. It's a fine sight to see, if I may say sir. Two such fine horses and two such fine horsemen."
Indeed, the two horses were beautiful and strong, with long and graceful strides, and the two fine figured horsemen excellent in the seat. It can be observed, that while Darcy had perhaps the better horse, Wickham had the better of practice, riding in such headless manners as he so frequently did with his soldiers.
"For all your high and mighty Mr. Darcy Lizzy," Lydia cried confidently, "I know my Wickham will win. For he always wins when he races the other soldiers in the regiment."
It could have been that at such a moment the two men would have experienced a washing away of the last fifteen years, as though they were again lads, friends, almost brothers, racing across Pemberley's expansive lands with nothing but the joy of youth and the exhilaration of a fast and hard ride as companion. Alas, it would not be. Instead it was all those years of held in and checked envy and ill will on the one part, the pounding of betrayal and the bitterness of abhorrence on the other, disdain and anger on the both that roiled up from the depths of their hearts and pressed them on and caused these men to push their horses to such extremes of speed and agility. So that in the simple chase across the countryside they seemed to be battling from the very core of their beings for some elusive and ill defined victory that was quite separate from the matter at hand.
It was a wild, fast, ferocious and close ride. As they tore across the first field they were neck in neck, jumping the first fence together and landing in unison. But Wickham's horse landed better and got a slight lead which Wickham encouraged further with a swift execution of his riding crop. As they crossed the second field they were not completely discernable by the group gathered at the house, but it did appear that Wickham was ahead. They disappeared over the brush and were not seen for a time, but as it was Darcy's horse had gained on Wickham's going across the third field and up the hill to the oak, coming back down the hill and over the bushes again neck in neck. But as they charged across the second field again it seemed that Wickham again took a small lead.
They came back into sight of the group and Wickham was ahead by just a head as they came barreling back toward the fence. But as he jumped the last fence his horse stumbled slightly upon landing, while Darcy's came across the fence easily, landing gracefully and solidly. Darcy then could be heard from the distance of the house urging his horse further and faster and as though the horse had been held back throughout the course, Darcy's horse sprang ahead of Wickham's by a full length.
It was a beautiful sight, in truth: the two horses were charging with electrifying speed across the open field, just a length apart, the two gentleman's bodies down and close to their steeds, the morning mist still just barely perceptible. The grooms and ground hands were now standing about and cheering and urging on the gentlemen with vigor. It was just too exhilarating to hold in.
As they closed in on the finish, Darcy continued to place distance between himself and Wickham, arriving first by nearly two full lengths. As he jumped down from his horse Darcy was roundly congratulated by the admiring grooms and hands-such a fine horse, such a beautiful ride and excellent seat the gentleman had. Wickham reigned in his horse and looked coolly at Darcy. Bingley and the ladies had now joined the men near the horses.
"I say, what inspired this ride?" Bingley inquired innocently. "What a good show." Darcy and Wickham stared at each other in silence, breathing heavily as Bingley went on in a rambling manner.
"Wickham felt the need to challenge me is all Bingley," Darcy interrupted in an even tone, as he methodically removed his gloves. Turing back to Wickham and looking him squarely in the face with cold and intense eyes, he continued, "May the best man win, is that not what you said?" He paused for a moment and then in a voice dripping with disdain, added, "brother!"
Wickham's face lost for a moment its habitual mask of goodwill and revealed itself in all its invidious and insolent truth, so that for a moment the handsome features, distorted by such wrath, were disconcertingly dreadful. Darcy turned from Wickham and approached Elizabeth, placing his hand lightly on her forearm, he looked at her momentarily and then entered the house without another word, leaving a very angry and disappointed Wickham behind.
"Oh Wickham," Lydia was saying, "I cannot believe you let that odious Mr. Darcy win."
"Lydia!" Jane cried. Elizabeth simply rolled her eyes and went to join her husband.
When Darcy came out of the dressing room, freshly bathed and attired, and went into the bedchamber, he found Elizabeth waiting for him, sitting on a chair by the window. She said nothing, simply raised an eyebrow and looked him in the eyes.
"It was quite ridiculous, I know, but I cannot deny that I felt great satisfaction besting that man." Elizabeth simply curled her lips in response. "You have every right to be displeased. It was a very uncontrolled ride. Forgive my impetuousness."
"I cannot." Darcy was about to make a response, but stopped as Elizabeth began to smile. "I believe you may have some misapprehensions regarding my thoughts on this matter." It was now Darcy who raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "I cannot forgive you without some dishonesty. For I cannot disguise the great satisfaction and pride I felt to see you leave him behind, to see all the arrogance and smugness of his air collapse about him. It was a very pleasurable experience."
Darcy let out a low laugh and walked over to the chair and stood in front of Elizabeth, looking down into her face. "My little minx! To be so ungenerous, so unfeeling and to your own brother, as he so constantly reminds us."
"True. Very unfeeling. But you and I both know that Jane is the only angel in this house."
Standing up she took his face in her hands and whispered, "Well done William, very well done."
He laughed again, until she silenced him with a kiss.
Part 4
Darcy had retreated to the library to attend correspondence that had been forwarded from Pemberley, and more specifically concentrated on a piece of correspondence regarding the possible purchase of forest lands in Wales. He had spent the last fortnight deep in Bingley's business-attempting to guide his friend in the finer points of managing an estate, attempting to coax him into a sense of greater firmness and decisiveness when encountering tenant affairs. It was a relief to find himself again within his own concerns. Since the time of his marriage and the subsequent birth of his son and heir, Darcy had taken to the management of Pemberley and all his other interests with an enthusiasm hitherto absent. He had always been serious, responsible and proud of his management, filled with a sense of duty and devotion to his destiny and his history. Now, though, he felt something different, something more visceral and immediate, a keen sense of how his each decision would ensure the comfort and security of his beloved wife and the future of his adored son.
As he worked with his head down he heard the door open and softly close. Elizabeth had promised to join him after seeing to their son's feeding, thinking it, therefore, his wife, he spoke without lifting his eyes from the page.
"Elizabeth, I am so pleased you have joined me. There is a letter from the agent in Wales I would have you read."
As she made no reply, he looked up and found not his wife, but Wickham standing at the door, relaxing against it with an unctuous grin on his handsome face. He was in truth wearing just such a grin as was apt to be found by new acquaintances so disarmingly attractive and by those who really knew him so very suspicious. As Darcy looked at him he suddenly recalled what Elizabeth had once told him that Mr. Bennet had said about Wickham: "I defy even Sir William Lucas to produce such a son-in-law!" At the memory, Darcy chuckled to himself. Wickham took this as encouragement to proceed.
"Apparently, dear brother, you were expecting your lovely wife."
"So it would seem," Darcy remarked indifferently as he returned his attention to his correspondence. Having bested Wickham the prior morning on their spontaneous race across the countryside had released a great deal of the tension Darcy had felt since looking up from his enjoyable picnic to find Wickham standing above him. He could bear him now, he had told Elizabeth, for the remaining two days, with admirable equanimity, although with no less contempt.
"I am so pleased, nevertheless, to find you alone Darcy. I thought perchance we might speak."
Darcy looked at Wickham with bemusement. "Speak? You and I hardly have anything to say to one another Wickham. We have long since said all there was to say."
Wickham made his way into the room and took a seat in a chair across from Darcy. He sat down in a relaxed and almost proprietary manner. "But circumstances, brother, have so changed."
"Circumstances, yes. The past, no."
"Come Darcy. Let us not quarrel about the past."
"I am not quarrelling. I am merely recalling."
Darcy dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair, reluctantly curious about Wickham's latest designs. He found it astounding that the man could have so little shame, so little temerity or pride. Under Darcy's intent gaze, Wickham now rose from the chair and began to pace the room, stopping at last at the mantel and leaning against it in what he judged a most cavalier, worldly attitude, cognizant throughout the display that between Darcy and himself there was far too much knowledge, far too much of a past for such displays, too much for even civilities.
"I have been contemplating my situation in the world," he said at last.
Darcy snorted dismissively. "If you have come to me regarding some newly acquired debts I suggest you leave immediately. I have discharged your debts twice already and have no intention of ever doing so again."
"Oh come now Darcy. Paying my debts was hardly such a burden. My father was your steward after all, so I know better then most how much Pemberley is really worth and how much you are worth. And I am sure, clever fellow that you are, you've increased handsomely since the days of my excellent father's management. So I will not have you pretend that paying my debts was any great burden, Darcy."
"Such ingratitude is shocking, even coming from you."
"That is all you Darcys ever wanted, really, gratitude, to feel important and above the rest of us."
"Gratitude? My father never wanted your gratitude. He esteemed you and wanted naught but to do well for you. But you betrayed his misplaced confidence entirely."
Wickham measured the icy, even tone of Darcy's voice and knew that he was in danger of pushing too far for his purposes. "Perhaps I have been too free in my expression Darcy. But we have known each other so very long, it is hard to be otherwise."
"Wickham!" he exclaimed intolerantly. "Enough! State your purpose and then do me the kindness of leaving my site."
"Dear brother, such a temper." Darcy remained silent, cold and still. "Allow me to apologize for the ungracious words," Wickham finally said.
Darcy was immediately on the defensive, as he well knew that Wickham's civility was the least to be trusted, particularly in his own presence. For his part Wickham understood he needed to approach Darcy in a less hostile manner if he were to achieve his purpose, therefore he walked over to a small table in the corner of the room that held decanters and glasses. He offered Darcy a brandy, which was declined, and then poured himself one. Returning to the mantel, he took a sip and began in a calm and friendly manner. "You seem quite happy Darcy."
"And you are not?"
"Darcy, truly, I think you know better. There need be no illusions between us. We do not all have the liberty to marry where we would wish, or even to live as we would wish."
"We all are, however, at liberty to conduct ourselves in such a manner that our choices remain our own. You simply chose not to do so. In any case, of what can you complain? You desired your fortunes through a profitable marriage. Considering your situation not two years ago, you have not done so poorly."
Wickham replied to Darcy's allusion with a knowing, suggestive half smile that gave his countenance a nearly vicious appearance. "No, perhaps better then I anticipated at the time. In fact, so much better then I anticipated."
"What are you intimidating, Wickham?"
Wickham took a moment to sip his brandy before answering. "Only this. Since I fortuitously found myself under the same roof as you, my dear brother, I have taken the time to observe you. I have found that you love your wife."
"I fail to see how that is of any interest to you."
"Oh but it is Darcy. Of the greatest interest, in fact. You see, I have known you all your life and so I understand matters in a way others perhaps cannot."
They stared at each other in silence, Darcy waiting for Wickham to reveal his hand and the later enjoying the distinct pleasure of having Darcy, for once, at a disadvantage.
"I have seen not only that you love your wife, but more importantly that you love her as you have never loved any other creature-not even your dear sister. And I understand the consequences of your devotion."
"Wickham, get on with it or leave."
"My career seems to be at an impasse."
"And why should I lift a finger for your benefit?"
"Were we not just discussing your beloved wife and your unequalled devotion?"
"My wife has long since been disabused of any favorable impressions regarding your worth or merit. She would hardly encourage me to assist you."
"Do you think me so simple, Darcy? While I am sure you have told her many tales..."
"What I may or may not have told her," Darcy interrupted, "is entirely our business. But I am confident that, if nothing else, your treatment of her sister was sufficient to disabuse her."
"That is precisely my point."
"What precisely is your point? I wish you would get to it. I have much better things to be doing at the moment then carry on this trifling conversation with you."
"Her sister is the point. Her silly little sister for whom she cannot help but be concerned, and for whom she cannot help but be desirous of giving comfort where she can. It is part of why you love her too I am sure-because she is true and loyal. She is all those noble things you believe matter so very much and wrapped up in a package as handsome and desirable as any man could ever wish for."
"What did I tell you about making improper comments about my wife?" Darcy countered angrily.
"My apologies Darcy if you find my complimenting your wife improper. I forget sometimes the civilities of polished society, being a soldier as I am and reduced to such harsh and inelegant company. It is certainly not as refined as the most excellent life of a clergyman, for example."
"How curious! My cousin is a soldier as well and still he manages to be every bit a gentleman, all that is civil, proper, and honorable." It did not pass unnoted by Wickham the particular emphasis Darcy placed on the last word.
"Yes, the great Fitzwilliam breeding!" Wickham replied caustically.
"I have lost all patience with you."
Wickham finished the last bit of his drink and placed the empty glass on the mantel.
"It is all so clear Darcy, you simply refuse to acknowledge it. You are devoted to your wife-who, if I may respectfully observe, really is a most excellent woman, far superior to her sisters, even the very lovely and very insipid Jane. But I digress. As I was saying, you are devoted to your wife. I am married to your wife's sister. We may even have children. Your nieces and nephews they would be. I think it is all very clear Darcy."
Wickham then bowed graciously and left the room. Both men knew as the door closed behind him that Wickham would soon be helped along in his profession.
"Damn him!" Darcy cursed.
Darcy and Elizabeth had returned to Pemberley with rather mixed sentiments. While Darcy felt Bingley had yet much to learn about running his estate, Darcy was relieved to be out of Wickham's company. For her part, Elizabeth would have wished to have staid with Jane in her confinement, but was feeling pangs of guilt that she should be, indirectly to be sure, the cause of her dear husband's discomfiture in regards to Wickham. The morning after they arrived Elizabeth went out for one of her morning walks, eager, even after so short an absence, to be reacquainted with the beloved grounds of Pemberley. She was surprised to find her husband seated by the trout stream, and more surprised by his distracted and melancholy air. Joining him on the banks of the stream, she sat at his side.
"Of what are you thinking my dear, that you should be so sad?"
"Am I sad?"
"A little, I believe."
"Wickham, I am thinking about Wickham."
"It has been a difficult few days. You have borne it admirably."
Darcy was silent for a moment, digging the tip of his walking stick into the ground.
"Do you recall, Elizabeth, when I once told you that my character could be called resentful?"
"Yes. What of it?"
"It is true."
"Yes?"
"It is perhaps most true with Wickham."
"That is hardly difficult to comprehend William. He betrayed your father's trust; he betrayed you and your sister. I can quite understand that you should feel resentment and be disinclined toward forgiveness. What I do not understand is why you are sad?"
"Did you notice how often he called me brother these few days?"
"Yes. I believe he meant to taunt you."
"Unquestionably!"
"And?"
"Just that it did not have to be this way, Elizabeth." He paused and looked out at the stream. "We use to fish here together. I have not thought of that for years, that we use to fish right here, together." He stopped speaking for another moment before continuing in a soft voice. "There was a time when I think I thought of him almost as a brother, for my own sake, but as well for my father, who did think of him almost as a son."
"But that was a very long time ago."
"Yes. A very long time ago, before I learned his true character." They were quiet again. "My father loved Wickham as he loved no other, and Wickham only cared for that affection for what it could give him."
"But you did care for it, for the love?"
"I would come home from Eton and find they had a comradely that I did not share-free of duty and destiny. Simple and pure, at least on the part of my father."
"Did you envy that?"
"Surprisingly, no. I did not envy the esteem. I was still my father's only son and nothing could change that or my place in my father's heart. But perhaps I was jealous of the time, the ease and familiarity. My father would be quite disappointed to see us now-his son and his favorite, no better then enemies at respite."
"Perhaps. But I am confident that he would understand that the choice was Wickham's."
"More the fool Wickham! He always looks to his own interests. Had he been true to my father, which of course means he would have never mistreated Georgiana or even your sister, he would have never wanted for anything. I would have seen to that."
"And so you sit here thinking upon your father and the boy he adored; you are thinking of the man that boy has become, of what might have been and you are a little sad."
"Yes."
"May I sit with you then, a little longer, and share your sadness?"
Darcy looked at his wife-her face was illuminated with tenderness and compassion. He smiled as a wave of love overpowered him. "I should like that very much," he said as he put his arm around his wife and pulled her close.
Elizabeth stopped at the door to Darcy's study and observed her husband in silence for a few moments. She found it difficult to comprehend that after nearly two years of marriage he could continue to astonish her with the excellence of his character. When she once believed it impossible for him to show more generosity or care, he did, as she had just learnt today that he had once again done, going beyond what could be rightly expected. She watched him with great tenderness, his head down as he steadily and evenly wrote out a correspondence regarding, she assumed, some estate business. He had removed his coat and was in his waistcoat and shirt, so that she could gaze unencumbered upon his wide shoulders and strong arms. She smiled at her own palpitating heart, for whenever she saw him thus she felt her very blood race with ardent love, and yet now felt that very same mixed with an exquisite and gentle devotion. It has always been thus, she reflected, since their first night as husband and wife: a delicious, intoxicating concoction of passion and tenderness.
As she contemplated him Darcy, sensing her presence, raised his head from his correspondence and smiled that small, barely perceptible smile that Elizabeth knew belonged to those he most adored. Putting down his pen, he rose from his chair and approached her, lifting her hand in his and placing a tender lingering kiss thereon. Elizabeth delighted that he still insisted on such gallantry with her whenever she entered a room or when he departed from a room.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my love?"
"Do I disturb you?"
"It is a most welcome disturbance. I am in the midst of that very unpleasant business with Gibbons. It appears he never shall be satisfied with a fair solution and thinks me favoring McNulty."
They sat together on the sofa as Darcy described the latest machinations of this particularly tedious tenant affair until he stopped in mid sentence and cocked his head slightly. Elizabeth was looking at him with a charming blend of inquiry and tenderness that he found very endearing.
"Why do you look at me so?"
Elizabeth smiled and took his hands into her own. "I was just thinking upon what prodigious care you take of everyone and everything, and all without ever seeming to, without a word of complaint or fatigue, without even so much as a sigh."
"I think you grant me more merit then I deserve. I do nothing extraordinary."
"Oh, I would beg to differ, dear sir."
"What is so extraordinary about a man caring for a most beloved wife and a most adored son? What is so extraordinary in anticipating the joy of caring for this little girl who will be with us soon?" As he spoke this, he placed his hand on Elizabeth's swollen belly with a soft caress.
"Are you so sure the child will be a girl?"
"Yes. And she will have your bewitching eyes."
Elizabeth placed her hand above his where it still lay upon her. "You will not distract me from my purpose," she laughed. When he smiled sheepishly, she continued. "Perhaps what you have said is nothing extraordinary. But I do not speak of your wife and children, or even your sister. At least, not Georgiana."
Darcy did not make a reply, rather he looked away from Elizabeth with some consternation.
"I have received two most enlightening letters today, my dearest, most generous husband." Elizabeth leaned into her husband and kissed his lips softly.
"I fear I do not understand Elizabeth, why I am in receipt of such praise."
"In your modesty you would naturally profess your ignorance. When will you learn that your kindness and goodness can never be kept secret for long?" She smiled as he blushed. "I have received a letter from Jane and a most unexpected letter from Lydia."
"I will most willingly acknowledge, Elizabeth, that I delight in every kind word you bestow upon me. But upon my word, I fail to understand why I should deserve them now."
Elizabeth laughed at his stubborn modesty. "To think I once thought you incapable of humility! But I will keep you in suspense no longer. First I will tell you of Jane's, which is the less interesting of the two. It seems that Bingley has finally taken your counsel and has relieved his steward of his charge."
"I was aware of that, but I fail to see what that has to do with this conversation you have begun."
"I also am made to understand that you took the time to find Bingley a new, competent and trust worthy steward."
"I still fail to see why that should deserve such praise. He asked for assistance and I provided it. There is nothing more to it."
"Very well," Elizabeth laughed. "I shall grant you this point, but what have you to say of Lydia's news?"
"And what would that be?"
"Wickham, it appears, has been promoted. And if I am not very much mistaken it was your doing."
Darcy rose from the sofa and began to pace the room, finally stopping at the mantel. Elizabeth rose as well and standing in front of him, placed her arms around his neck. "Can you deny it?"
Darcy's silence was all the confirmation Elizabeth required. "You are so good."
"Do not give me merits I do not deserve. It was all quite selfishly done."
"And how is helping that man along in his profession selfish?"
"Because it gives you ease to know your sister not wholly dependent upon the fruits of his industry. And that in turn makes you happy, and that is all I care for. In any case, he may not be much by way of a gentleman, but he is, apparently, a decent enough soldier."
Elizabeth laughed at his inability to accept her praise or gratitude for his unexampled goodness. Her arms still around his neck, she kissed his lips and then whispered, "You may disagree as persistently as you wish, but you do take prodigious care of everyone, even those who do not deserve your kindness. Is there nothing I can do, my dearest husband, to ensure that you are well cared for too?"
By now, Darcy had his arms firmly around his wife's waist, and with her tender kisses as recompense he was far from displeased with the turn of the conversation. "Tell me," she whispered, "that I might never fail you and that you may always be as happy as am I."
He lifted a hand to her face and caressed her cheek. "Just love me always Elizabeth, as you love me now, with such warmth and openness that you leave me quite breathless. And let me in turn love you and care for you. Let me bring you happiness in every way possible, because that in itself is my happiness."
"My darling Fitzwilliam Darcy, nothing you could ever ask of me could be easier then loving you."
They kissed, dear reader, and a sweet, lingering and loving kiss it was and they altogether forgot for the time all the cares of their sisters and brothers, those deserving and those less so as well.