J Croft - Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge

When their course did not indubitably bring them to the assigned spot, the disoriented gentleman looked around in bewilderment. “Perhaps my faultless sense of direction is a bit hazy this evening because of this confounded fog.” He motioned for her to take a left turn down what Lizzy was sure was another incorrect pathway. 

After going around the bend, Elizabeth said, “Fitzwilliam, your sense of direction is, indeed, impeccable. We have just completed a circuit and have returned to the exact spot from which we left not ten minutes ago. Are you ready to admit you have lost your way hereabouts in the lanes? We can always solicit someone for direction.” 

“Absolutely unnecessary! We have not passed another soul; and, furthermore, I realize precisely where we are now, so we most certainly do not require anyone else’s assistance.” 

“Well then, which avenue will lead us to your family?” 

After leading her along the garden path, the two lovers ended up at a dead-end. Darcy took advantage of another golden opportunity to thoroughly kiss Elizabeth yet again … and again … and again. 

“Fitzwilliam, as much as I have enjoyed the benefits of privacy with you, we really must return to the others at once. It is certainly becoming quite late. How do we find our way out of here?” 

“I am unsure. Kissing you has obviously left me befogged.” 

“It is not my fault you do not have the foggiest idea where we are.” 

“I admit my senses are somewhat clouded this evening.” 

“So you finally admit to being mist-ified and lost?” 

He sheepishly nodded. 

Despite several hit and mist attempts, Elizabeth finally guided her fiancé in the right direction; and the two met up with the rest of their party. Georgiana and Anna waited beside one of the carriages while George Darcy, his wife, and Ellis Fleming paced back and forth in the cool, damp night air. 

“My dear Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam, where have you two been wandering?” was the question they received from Lady Anne as soon as they appeared and from all the others as they approached the carriages. They only said in reply that they had wandered about till they were beyond their own knowledge; however, the guilty couple coloured up as they spoke and awakened suspicions of the truth. 

Fitzwilliam Darcy put his foot in his mouth and further raised their skepticism when he changed the subject. “I am sorry we did not join you at the appointed time. All the same, I hope you enjoyed the magnificent display of fireworks as much as we did. Tonight’s pyrotechnic spectacle was truly … breathtaking.” 

Anna gave her brother a puzzled look, Georgiana giggled, Lady Anne sighed, and a smirking Ellis tried to warn his friend with an ‘ahem’, a frown, and a slight shake of his head. 

Elizabeth inquired, “Mr. Fleming, did you not consider it a most dazzling extravaganza of stimulating sight and sound? Why, it was almost beyond belief.” 

Feeling somewhat awkward, Ellis scuffed his foot and said, “Well, yes, Miss Elizabeth. Beyond belief is definitely one way of putting it.” 

George Darcy scowled at his son and announced the evening’s fireworks had been cancelled due to inclement weather. 

Lizzy Bennet and her fiancé turned matching shades of pink. Fitzwilliam Darcy tugged at his cravat and again changed the subject by saying, “Ah, yes, how unfortunate. Speaking of inclement weather, it is regrettable the cooler temperatures at this time of year cause more and more people to burn coal. The fog we are experiencing tonight is not only natural but man-made as well, because of all the smoke.” 

“Where there is smoke, there is fire,” remarked his frowning father, “and perhaps smoke and mirrors, as well. Somehow you two magically managed to conjure up your very own personal fireworks. Fitzwilliam, I hate to dis-illusion you; nevertheless, as soon as we return home, remind me to remind you about proper public comportment.” 

Almost two weeks previously at a country assembly in Tutbury, near the border between Staffordshire and Derbyshire, Miss Caroline Bingley was obliged by a deplorable scarcity of interested gentlemen to sit down for all the dances. She impatiently listened to Miss Endura Chatsworth’s blathering until the third last set ended. At that moment Miss Bingley’s attention was not at all on her wearisome new female acquaintance but rather on the fascinating young male who had mingled and danced all evening but, to Caroline’s frustration, had apparently not been interested in obtaining an introduction to her. He was tall, devilishly handsome, smartly attired, and somehow familiar; but she could not place where she might have seen him previously. Miss Bingley knew he was intelligent and well-spoken, because by then the fellow stood not five feet away conversing with her aunt and an elderly neighbour, Sir Lance Boyle. The three suddenly looked in her direction; and Caroline fidgeted and played with her bracelets while she watched the smiling, swaggering stranger approach. 

Sir Lance said, “Miss Bingley, please allow me to introduce to you Mr. George Wickham, the son of an acquaintance of mine and, coincidentally, a good friend of your brother. Mr. Wickham, may I present Miss Caroline Bingley, who is the niece of Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett Piers.” The elderly gentleman then introduced Wickham to Miss Chatsworth. 

The young man bowed and said, “It is my very great pleasure to meet you both. Miss Bingley, if you are not already engaged for the last set, may I have the pleasure of standing up with you?” He smiled charmingly at her friend and added, “I must apologize, Miss Chatsworth, but not having been introduced to you before, I regret I have already asked for the remainder of the dances with other young ladies.” 

So, during the last set, Wickham spoke enthusiastically to Miss Bingley about his long-standing friendship with her brother as well as with the esteemed Darcy family, his extensive education at Cambridge, and his thorough knowledge of the grand estate of Pemberley. Caroline was enthralled. 

To give credit where credit is due, the hard-working fellow was truly on his way to becoming an exemplary steward. Be that as it may, George Wickham had not abandoned his rakish behaviour. While knowing it was wrong to lead her astray, he could not convince himself to discontinue a seduction. If Bingley had been present, Wickham would never have dared to pursue a friend’s sister. Caroline had a lovely smile when she took the bother to do so and possessed a sharp, cutting wit. He admired her audacious fashion sense, and Miss Bingley was certainly handsome enough to tempt him … as were most young women. 

And so it was that Caroline met her future husband and was granted her wish of never relinquishing a connection to her precious Pemberley. 

Never before the object of such admiration and attention, Miss Bingley let his fawning and flattery go to her head; and Wickham put considerable effort into wooing and weaselling his way in there. He traveled to and fro between Derbyshire and her uncle’s Staffordshire estate and picked wildflowers along the way to present to her. With masterly finesse, he smooth-talked his way straight into her heart. 

One fateful afternoon as the couple strolled the grounds, Mrs. Ann Teak complained of a terrible headache. Caroline nittered and nattered, jibbered and jabbered without intermission about how much she was grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad headache, and how excessively she disliked being ill herself. She finally insisted the elderly woman go inside to rest and then thought no more of the matter. 

Carpe diem! Wickham wasted no time that day and immediately seized the carping young woman in a passionate embrace. 

Overcome by the manly smell of shaving soap and his well-placed grope, down the slippery slope Caroline tumbled and breathlessly asked, “Shall we elope and end my forlorn hope?” 

Overcome by the womanly smell of jasmine soap and her well-placed grope, down the same slippery slope Wickham tumbled; and, without thought, he recklessly answered, ‘yes’ instead of ‘nope’. 

Miss Bingley had dropped all her prior resentment of Elizabeth Bennet and, instead of writing to Charles about her suitor, she took advantage of that lady’s kind invitation to correspond. In her letter, Caroline succinctly explained she had never been romantic and wanted only a home at Pemberley. “My dear Miss Elizabeth, considering Mr. Wickham’s connections and situation in life, I am convinced my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state. I hope, my friend, once you are settled in the cold northern clime, you will not be blue with envy over my living on the finer Darcy estate. Your also-engaged friend, Caroline.” Although usually quite fastidious with her penmanship, Miss Bingley had written the direction remarkably ill; and the letter had been delivered elsewhere and would only catch up with its recipient many weeks later in Northumberland. 

The scheming couple met at midnight and headed for Gretna Green under cover of darkness. But Wickham did not get far, neither with Caroline nor with the inadequate spending money he had in his possession. Although very conscientious with Pemberley funds, George had been drawing his own bustle too freely and soon found himself nearly on the rocks. It became necessary to stay at an inn on the second night; and at the lady’s insistence, it was spent in separate rooms. Until they were legally married, she refused to give in to any of his further advances. Wickham then had to sheepishly explain to Caroline he needed to return with important estate papers for his father; and because of having to rent two rooms instead of one, his lodging allowance was already spent. They would barely have enough blunt to buy meals on their way back to Pemberley; and after that, he would be run quite off his legs. The trip to Scotland was, therefore, abandoned.