Create Your Own JAFF Adventure – Post 11

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 told Mr. Darcy about seeing Miss Darcy go out alone, and he told her about Miss Darcy’s attempted elopement. Miss Darcy returned in the company of her aunt, who suggested that she keep her niece with her. But Elizabeth was suspicious about whether Miss Darcy only went to see her aunt, so in today’s part, she is going to speak with the maid who accompanied Miss Darcy on her illicit adventure.

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!

Mrs. Burton is of invaluable help in locating the maid quickly, and you find yourself standing before the girl, a fair-haired girl of about Lydia and Miss Darcy’s age, in Mrs. Burton’s office in the lower floor before you have time to consider exactly how to ask your questions.

Molly looks to Mrs. Burton and back to you, and you know you must speak. You should not waste the maid’s time.

“Molly, I understand that you accompanied Miss Darcy when she went out this afternoon.”

Molly bursts into tears, and Mrs. Burton awkwardly pats her on the back. “There, there. You aren’t in trouble, my girl. Miss Bennet knows well that you didn’t dare say no to a guest the likes of Miss Darcy.”

“Oh, of course not!” You rush to assure her. “Mrs. Gardiner knows you were not at fault. It is true that Miss Darcy was not to go out, but it was her choice and her choice alone to defy her brother’s orders, and you were not to know.”

Molly nods, sniffling into a handkerchief. “Yes, miss.”

“Miss Darcy had been taken into the care of her aunt. But I believe it would be helpful for her brother to know everything about what Miss Darcy did today. She went to visit her aunt, I understand.”

“Yes, miss. It were a fine house, it was, in Mayfair. I ain’t never seen such a fine house, and the footmen all in the best livery. Like a palace!”

It is not a surprise that Lady Matlock, a countess, would live in splendour, so that information is not new.

“I wonder if Miss Darcy went anywhere on the way to her aunt’s house?” You hold your breath as you wait for the girl’s response.

“Oh yes, miss. She went to a park. The one the Gardiner children go to sometimes, which I thought odd, you know, her house being so far away and all.” She frowns. “Or maybe not so far after all, as that other house were Lady Matlock’s, now I come to think of it. Although I can’t think of a fine lady like Miss Darcy living so near Cheapside even if her brother has no title.”

You nod encouragingly. “And did she meet anyone at the park?”

“I don’t rightly know. She told me to wait in the carriage. I didn’t think that quite right, you know, Miss Darcy as being a young lady who isn’t out yet, but my mother raised me better than to question my betters.”

You picture the park. It is not very large, much of it open, grassy walks, although there are trees near the little pond. Where would the carriage stand?

“Could you see Miss Darcy?” you ask tentatively.

“I know better than to spy on my betters!” the girl protests, but her trembling chin tells a different story.

“Spying? Certainly not,” you agree. “But you had a duty to Miss Darcy, and it would have been natural for you to watch through the window to provide what chaperonage you could, since she forbid you from leaving the carriage.”

Molly bites her lip. “I may have seen her walking down the path. I couldn’t see her once she turned toward the pond, though, seeing as how there were trees in the way. But . . .”

“But what? Get on with it, girl!” Mrs. Burton says. “I say, you girls do take forever to get to the point.”

Molly blushes. “When she came out from the trees, there were a man who came out just a minute later. He was looking toward her, but then he turned and went in another direction. He might have just crossed her path, I suppose, but it did make me wonder.”

“Thank you, Molly.” You hesitate. “Was there anything else? Anywhere else she went? Or anything else you think that perhaps her guardian should know?” Reminding Molly that Mr. Darcy is the girl’s guardian might impress upon the girl the importance of telling all.

Molly shakes her head slowly before saying, “Miss Darcy did seem happier after the park. She was all smiles when she went to her aunt’s, she was. I can’t remember more.”

“The man. Can you tell me what he looked like?”

Molly shrugs. “Dark hair, I think. A gentleman, perhaps, or at least like one.”

“He was not a redcoat?”

“Oh no, miss.”

You nod consideringly. Mr. Wickham was wearing his uniform when you saw him in the park before. Could this be Mr. Wickham, but he chose to wear something less recognizable? Or are you wrong? Molly did not see them actually together, so it is possible that Miss Darcy has done nothing other than take a brief walk in the park.

Possible, but unlikely.

“Thank you, Molly. And thank you, Mrs. Burton.”

“I am pleased we could help,” Mrs. Burton says. “I am right glad that girl has gone with her aunt, I must say.”

“I am, too,” you confess.

When you go upstairs, your aunt and uncle and Mr. Darcy have all gone up to dress for dinner, as apparently the colonel will not be returning this evening. You follow suit, contemplating the best way to approach Mr. Darcy, both about Mr. Wickham’s visit to the park and about Miss Darcy’s stop there. Mr. Darcy chose to confide in you about Mr. Wickham, but he would not wish the knowledge of Miss Darcy’s elopement to spread further than necessary. Not that your aunt and uncle would tell anyone, but a secret is best kept by as few as possible, and it has likely already caused Mr. Darcy pain to be forced to tell you.

While you do your best to join in the dinner conversation in your usual way, your agitation to speak with Mr. Darcy must show in your face, as Aunt Gardiner glances at you several times during the meal. Once the men join you in the drawing room, Aunt and Uncle Gardiner choose seats on the far side of the room and begin a quiet conversation. Mr. Darcy takes the seat nearest you, and you are amused at how easily it sorted itself out.

“Mr. Darcy,” you begin without preamble, not knowing how long your aunt and uncle will give you, “I have been thinking back to our conversation about Mr. Wickham.”

“Yes,” he says. “I have, too. Before the Bingleys arrived, you mentioned that Mr. Wickham is in London. You know this for certain?”

“He left before the ball at Netherfield.” You blush, but you have to tell him. “I enquired of Mr. Denny, and he said his friend had been sent to London on urgent business.”

“He was gone before the ball,” Mr. Darcy says musingly.

“And he is still here. Or he was, at least. I saw him in the park when I went with my cousins a couple of days ago.”

“You are certain?”

“Very certain. I spoke with him.”

At Mr. Darcy’s quick indrawn breath, you hastily go on, “I did not tell him of your accident.” You are not surprised when Mr. Darcy relaxes a little, although he still seems stiffer than before. “I did mention your name before thinking better of it, and left with needing to say something, I told him that we had danced at the ball and I was surprised that you would dance with any local woman.”

Mr. Darcy’s face grows difficult to read. “It might have been better if you had not mentioned that. Still, it was a better choice than telling him of the accident. He may still think I am dead.”

“Dead!” But surely . . . Anyone in Meryton would assume he left with the Bingleys. Mr. Bingley  thought he had stayed with the Hursts and Miss Bingley, and they believed he left with Mr. Bingley. Nobody in town would think him dead simply because his knocker remained down for a few days.

Nobody . . . except the person who left him on the road to die.

“You believe Mr. Wickham is the one who attacked you,” you say slowly. “But he was in London!”

“I did not recognize the men who attacked me,” Mr. Darcy concedes, keeping his voice low, “but Wickham was not among them. That does not mean it was not by his device, if not his hand.”

Mr. Wickham is the villain for trying to elope with Georgiana, but could he be this bad?

“I have more information for you that may put this in a worse light,” you say, quickly glancing at your aunt and uncle. They are still deep in conversation. “Miss Darcy did not go directly to your aunt’s house this afternoon.”

He sits up sharply, momentarily drawing the Gardiners’ attention until they turn away, satisfied that all is well.

“Where did she go? How do you know?” he whispers.

“It occurred to me that it was a little odd she would defy you merely to visit her aunt, an activity you would likely approve of if you know. I wondered if she had gone directly to her aunt’s, or if her real destination had been achieved first and her final destination only meant to hide what she had been up to.”

“A reasonable supposition. How did you determine the truth?” Light dawns on his face. “You spoke with the maid.”

“I did. She says that Miss Darcy asked to be taken to the park—the same one where I saw Mr. Wickham—and that Miss Darcy made her stay in the carriage. She watched, but could not see Miss Darcy the entire time. When Miss Darcy emerged, though, there was a man not far behind her. The maid could not swear absolutely that they had been together, it is all a guess.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mr. Darcy agrees, “It is a good guess. Lady Matlock knows the particulars of Georgiana’s situation with Mr. Wickham and she would recognize him, but I will send her a note to inform her that he is in London so that she and my uncle may be on guard.”

“If it was Mr. Wickham—he is very determined to have her. Does he perhaps think she is his best and only chance at a fortune?”

“Most likely. He has a pretty face and manners and could likely find an heiress of some sort to marry him, but he is greedy. His gentlemanly appearance cannot provide sufficient connections to women with similar fortunes. Oh, he likely could find a woman with ten thousand or so to take him, but his first goal must be higher.”

“I am surprised that he has not attached himself to Miss Bingley, then.”

Mr. Darcy barks a laugh. “She would never marry a man without family or connections or fortune. She values herself too highly. Furthermore, her brother’s close relationship with me makes it unlikely Mr. Wickham could win her devotion without my discovering it.

“Then he will not easily give Miss Darcy up, even with her brother and her aunt and uncle on alert.” You drop your gaze to Mr. Darcy’s hands, which bounce with agitation on his knees as you speak together. You never knew him to fidget at Netherfield Park. This conversation must be making him far more anxious than you anticipated, although it is necessary all the same. You wish you dare ask why Mr. Darcy thinks Mr. Wickham wants him dead—if you understood him correctly. But despite the strange intimacy of your conversation, you do not dare go so far.

Mr. Darcy frowns and does not respond. His gaze appears to turn inward, and for a long silence, you are sure you have gone beyond the bounds of polite conversation. No, you both left polite conversation behind long ago, did you not?

When he speaks at last, his voice almost trembles. “My father was wrong to make me Georgiana’s guardian. It should have been my aunt from the start. I have made so many mistakes with her.”

He made mistakes, it is true. But it is also a rare gift that anyone, especially so proud a man, would admit to his mistakes.

“Fifteen—she is fifteen, is she not?—is a trying age, and even more so for a girl who has lost both parents. It is no wonder that she has taken advantage of any minor lapses. Girls of that age—well, children of both sexes, I should not wonder—are eager to become adults and yet still children in mind and restraint. They want everything and want to owe nothing. They believe the little experience they have is sufficient and that they know more than those who have been in society for much longer.”

“I suppose you have even more experience than I do in this matter,” he says with a slight smile. Almost immediately, he turns abashed. “I did not mean—”

“No,” you admit. “You are correct. My younger sisters are desperate to be considered adults and yet their behaviour is childish and vulgar.” You close your eyes for a brief moment. “My parents have made no effort to teach or curtail them, and Jane and I have tried, but we, too, have made mistakes. More mistakes than you have, I dare say, as I know I could do more to help Lydia and yet sometimes I feel I stand by and simply worry that she will ruin us all.”

He lifts his hand and makes a movement toward you, but then he glances at the Gardiners and puts his hand back on his lap. “Heaven forbid our sisters ever meet,” he says, and you are surprised into a chuckle.

“I wish I knew how to reach her.” Mr. Darcy draws in a deep breath. “The more I try, the further away she pulls.”

Do you dare advise such a man on how to relate to his sister? You have experience with sisters, it is true, but every young woman is unique—or likes to think so—and does Miss Darcy of London and Pemberley have this in common with the Misses Bennets of Longbourn?

“You might tell her the truth.” You keep your voice even, despite Mr. Darcy’s sudden sharp look. “About Mr. Wickham. You suspect Mr. Wickham of attacking you, or at least of ordering such an attack. I do not know your reasons for your suspicions, and I do not ask you to reveal such secrets to me, but I think it is time you share them with Miss Darcy.”

“But Georgiana is too—”

“Young? Innocent? She is not too young, if she is possibly sneaking out to meet with him, and if she fancies herself in love with him. And if she thinks the best of him and refuses to see that he is a fortune hunter, then she is too innocent. It is right and noble to preserve the innocence of children when they are young, but it is not right and noble to hide the existence of a threat and leave them vulnerable.”

Guilt strikes you. You, too, should heed your words. Your father will not limit or caution Lydia, and your mother sees no danger in Lydia’s behaviour. But you and Jane have been exasperated by Lydia, cautioned Lydia to behave, and felt shame for Lydia’s behaviour in public. When have you last spent time alone with the girl, telling her why you are concerned? When did you try to rescue her with truth, instead of scoldings?

“You are right,” Mr. Darcy says, surprising you. You did not think him the type to admit when somebody else is correct over him. “I will consider your advice.”

The conversation becomes general for a few minutes before Mr. Darcy excuses himself, citing exhaustion and his recovery.

It was a good conversation. You are relieved to have finally spoken to Mr. Darcy about seeing Mr. Wickham, as well as about Miss Darcy’s little escapade—although that may mean less now that the girl is under the care of her aunt.

Most particularly intriguing is Mr. Darcy’s belief that Mr. Wickham might be involved in the attack. Only this morning, you considered Mr. Wickham to be the most gentlemanly man of your acquaintance! You accept Mr. Darcy’s testimony about Mr. Wickham’s attempt to elope with Miss Darcy, as Mr. Darcy has no reason to lie about his sister and risk her reputation in such a way. But it is one thing to attempt to elope with an heiress, another thing entirely to attempt murder!

Mr. Darcy clearly holds a grudge against Mr. Wickham. He is justified, true, but his bias may lead him to put more blame on Mr. Wickham than is fair. After all, there is also that matter of the inheritance Mr. Wickham is meant to have from the elder Mr. Darcy. What came of that? You need a way to find out more about Mr. Wickham and his relationship with the Darcys from a disinterested source.

Mr. Bingley is coming tomorrow evening. You do not know how long he has been acquainted with Mr. Darcy, but he may know something of Mr. Wickham. Perhaps you should find a subtle way to ask him what he knows?

You hesitate, though. Mr. Darcy did not send word to Mr. Bingley upon his arrival at the Gardiners’, even though the Bingleys would discover his disappearance upon their arrival in town. Mr. Darcy was injured, it was true, and it may have been an oversight—but there is also the fact that he was injured on Netherfield lands. Is he suspicious that Mr. Bingley is involved?

It is a ridiculous idea, surely. Mr. Bingley is his friend, and a more amiable gentleman you have never met. But maybe you should limit yourself to asking Aunt Gardiner if she knows anything of Mr. Wickham’s reputation in Derbyshire instead.

Should you:

find a way to ask Mr. Bingley about Mr. Wickham and his relationship with the Darcys

or

ask Aunt Gardiner if she knows anything about Mr. Wickham’s reputation?

What do you think? Did you expect Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth to finally share so much? They haven’t started the longing looks just yet, but they’ve been having some pretty serious conversation, and you know what Austen says: to share intimate conversation about one’s troublesome sisters is a certain step toward falling in love. (Okay, I may have paraphrased a little . . .)

Note: I am having surgery in a few days, so while I’m hoping to get the next part posted in a fortnight as is my current schedule, I hope you will forgive me if it ends up being delayed a little! I gave you a nice long part this time to make up for it (the posts for this story have been getting longer every week!)