Create Your Own JAFF Adventure – Part 12

Thanks for joining me on our Create Your Own JAFF Adventure! Just starting? You can catch up on previous posts collected here: https://austenvariations.com/category/sarah-courtney/ .

Last post, Elizabeth spoke with the maid and discovered that Miss Darcy had gone out secretly to a garden–possibly to meet with someone. She told Mr. Darcy what she knew, and they commiserated about the challenges of sisters. Elizabeth then had to decide whether to speak to Aunt Gardiner or Mr. Bingley to learn more about Mr. Wickham, and the readers voted that she should speak with Aunt Gardiner. So this part will start there!

If you’d prefer the third person version, you can read it here. There’s a link at the bottom of the intro part that will jump you to the newest part. Just don’t forget to come back and comment to tell me what Elizabeth should do next!

You are lucky enough to catch Aunt Gardiner alone the next morning after Uncle goes into his office and while Mr. Darcy is resting in his room.

“Aunt Gardiner, did you know Mr. Darcy at all when you were in Derbyshire as a girl?” It seems the most innocuous way to get to your questions.

Aunt Gardiner places two flowers in the vase she is arranging. “I knew of him,” she says. “I had never met him myself, although I did meet his mother a few times. She was a lovely woman, very involved in the community.”

“Did you know a Mr. Wickham?”

Aunt Gardiner hesitates, one hand hovering over the vase. “I did,” she says, and the caution in her voice puts you on high alert. “He was the elder Mr. Darcy’s steward.”

“His son is in the militia in Hertfordshire,” you explain. “He says he grew up with the Darcys.”

“I suppose that’s true. The elder Mr. Darcy was . . . fond of Mr. Wickham.”

“Fond?”

Aunt Gardiner sighs and places a new flower with a little more force than necessary. “He supported him at school, and later at Cambridge.”

You cock your head. “What are you not telling me?”

“It is not a story for a maiden’s ears.” Aunt Gardiner finishes with the vase and carries her basket of flowers to the next. “The elder Mr. Darcy was a jovial man and a good landlord, but he was also a wealthy man who engaged in many of those activities enjoyed by that class.” She gives you a sideways look. “He was a very different man from his son, from what I have heard.”

“Please be more explicit, Aunt. You must see that the information might be relevant. And after finding Mr. Darcy severely injured on the road, my sensibilities are hardly likely to be overwrought at the details of Mr. Wickham’s history. And . . .” you hesitate. “Mr. Wickham told me tales of Mr. Darcy that I believed at the time, but have come to question.”

“Ah.” Mrs. Gardiner examines your face for a long moment before sighing. “Well, it is said that the elder Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Wickham may have had a particularly close relationship. Young Mr. Wickham was born fairly quickly after the Wickhams’ wedding, and you might have noticed a similar physical appearance between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy.”

All of these elder and younger Wickhams and Darcys are confusing, but you think you have the idea of it. So people believe that the elder Mr. Darcy might be, not only Mr. Wickham’s godfather, but possibly his father.

Aunt Gardiner is right. It is not fit for a maiden’s ears. You feel your face burning simply at the contemplation of what it all meant. And yet the two men do bear a strong resemblance, even more than Mr. Darcy and his cousin! They have similar form, the same height and the same broad shoulders, and even the same hair in color and curl. Somehow, you did not take particular notice, because their eyes are so different—Mr. Wickham’s a seemingly guileless gray-blue, Mr. Darcy’s a fathomless brown.

“I see.” You hand Aunt Gardiner the next flowers. “I suppose that explains the church living that Mr. Wickham mentioned. Although he said that he did not receive it?”

Aunt Gardiner shifts several flowers around. “From what I have heard of young Wickham’s behaviour, I cannot say I find him ideal as a clergyman, which matters little as I do not believe he has taken orders. I do know there is something odd about Mr. Darcy’s will, though.”

“Odd?”

“Something about a trust, I believe. I know there was a great deal of shock and dismay over the will, but I do not know the nature of it. Lord Matlock is somehow involved.”

 A trust? Did that mean Mr. Darcy did not inherit outright? An odd choice, surely. Mr. Darcy was not a child when his father died. Or perhaps you are misunderstanding entirely.

The flowers safely arranged, Aunt Gardiner returns upstairs to her children, and you decide to practise on the pianoforte a little in preparation for the evening. As you pass the stairway, you see Mr. Darcy descending in the careful, slow manner he has adopted since his injury.

“Miss Elizabeth!” he greets you warmly.

“Mr. Darcy. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. In fact,” he says, his eyes searching yours, “I thought I might consider returning to Darcy House within the next few days. I will of course speak with my physician, but with so much improvement, I would not wish to impose on your aunt and uncle much longer.”

“I am sure they do not consider it an imposition.” You feel a strange reluctance to abandon him to the parlour alone. Surely you do not need to practise the pianoforte just now. “Would you like company?”

“I would be honoured.” He gingerly takes a seat in the parlour. “Have you been reading anything of note?”

You stifle a laugh. Reading, when so much strangeness is going on? “I am afraid the only reading I have done of late was the travel monologue I read to you.”

“A pleasant episode indeed. You have a lovely reading voice. Tell me, what sort of book do you prefer? Novels? Poetry? History?”

“You would despise my taste.”

“Again you assign to me opinions which you choose to call my own but are, in fact, far from accurate. I enjoy novels and poetry as much as history and science—rather more than science, if I am to be completely honest. My marks were good enough in mathematics at Cambridge, but I have not read a book on that subject in the intervening years, yet I have read dozens of novels in that time.”

“Does Miss Bingley know that?” you blurt before you immediately regret the impolitic remark, but Mr. Darcy merely smiles.

“I am certain she would approve.”

You hold back a laugh. Of course she would. Anything Mr. Darcy does will always be correct, according to Miss Bingley.

“Then I will admit a preference for novels,” you say. “Especially those of the satirical sort.”

Mr. Darcy chuckles. “I am not surprised. Personally, I prefer poetry.”

“Poetry!”

“My mother was fond of poetry,” he admits. “And it has touched my heart ever since I was a boy and would read with her.”

Your mind goes to Aunt Gardiner and what she said of Mr. Darcy’s father. If it is true . . . how sad for Mrs. Darcy and her son. Thinking of the young mother sharing poetry with her son while her husband spends his time elsewhere—it was heart-wrenching.

You once declined to speak of books in a ballroom, but you find you can easily while away a pleasant hour speaking of books in a parlour, and when your aunt and later your uncle join you, you and Mr. Darcy welcome their strong opinions and ready arguments. You miss the brief period you had Mr. Darcy to yourself, though. Foolish girl, to change your opinion of Mr. Darcy so completely in the span of a few days as to long to keep his company all to yourself!

The day passes, and the appointed time for the Bingleys to arrive for dinner comes and goes, but Mr. Darcy assures you all that a quarter hour after the designated time is considered punctual for his friends. They do arrive at last in a flurry of greetings, a genuine smile from Mr. Bingley and false smiles from his sisters.

To your surprise, Miss Bingley does not gravitate toward Mr. Darcy as she usually does. It is you she first approaches..

“My dear Eliza, how well you look!” She looks you up and down with an expression that makes it clear she thinks anything but. “I understand Lady Matlock found Miss Darcy here and took her away. I hope that you do not see it as an insult to your aunt and uncle. It is merely that Miss Darcy is used to a more refined household. The shock of staying in the house of a tradesman on top of her brother’s injuries must have been too much for her.”

Is that the best Miss Bingley can do?

It is tempting to respond in kind, but you hesitate. You are not about to let Miss Bingley think her subtle barbs are cutting enough to beat you down, but you do not wish to cross the line into cruelty in your response.

Should you say:

“Speaking of tradesmen, I understand that my uncle was acquainted with your father when he was still in trade. Mr. Bingley was involved in fine cotton, I believe?”

or

“Lady Matlock was very kind to take Miss Darcy into her house. I suppose that leaves Mr. Darcy here alone most days, except of course when his cousin can be spared from the barracks.”

I survived the surgery and now have a new knee! Hopefully it will serve me better than the original one was. My apologies for any higher rate of typos in this part, but I wanted to keep with the fortnight schedule if I could!