Page 53 of Attempted Compromises
Wickham stared at her, impressed despite himself. “A bold plan,” he said after a moment. “Though I must say, you’ve given this more thought than I expected.”
Caroline straightened, her expression smug. “I will not leave my future to chance, Mr. Wickham. Darcy and I belong together, and I will not allow some country nobody to ruin my plans.”
As she looked at him with satisfaction, Wickham found his gaze wandering over her figure. She was undeniably attractive, but her demanding nature made her an impossible prospect for a man like him. Still, he couldn’t help but admire the cunning mind behind her refined exterior.
Too bad she is such a demanding creature,Wickham thought to himself,else I would try for her dowry myself. But the idea of Darcy being tied to such a shrew for the rest of his life is too good an opportunity to pass up.
“Very well,” he said at last. “I’ll do my part. But we must be careful. Timing is everything.”
“I quite agree,” Caroline said firmly. “Thank you, Mr. Wickham, for your service to my future husband. I won’t forget your help once I am Mrs. Darcy.”
“You truly are a remarkable woman, Miss Bingley,” he said with a charming smile. “My old friend will be very fortunate to have you for a wife. I am in awe of your dedication to your union, and I hope to one day have a woman love me just as much as you do him.”
She preened under the compliment, and Wickham allowed himself a small, private laugh.If only Darcy knew what he was in for. The perfect revenge—and no one will suspect a thing.
With a final conspiratorial nod, Caroline turned and disappeared back toward the house. Wickham adjusted his coat and set off at a brisk pace, eager to return to the barracks before his absence raised questions. His steps quickened, his mind already savoring the chaos that would follow.
Chapter 14
Elizabeth stepped out of Longbourn’s front door, pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders. The sun was just beginning to rise above the hills, casting a golden glow over the fields and hedgerows that bordered the estate. After the events of the day before, she needed time to think, and Oakham Mount was the perfect place for it.
Fortunately, there was no one around to stop her. Her family was still stirring in their rooms, the household not yet fully awake. Only the faint clatter of Hill preparing breakfast reached her ears. The solitude was welcome. For once, there were no cries of “Mama!” from Lydia, no dramatic exclamations from Mrs. Bennet, and no sharp remarks from Mary about the importance of rising early.
Elizabeth tied her bonnet securely under her chin, then pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders. The air was cold, but the promise of sunshine brightened the horizon as she made her way toward Oakham Mount. She followed her usual trail, winding through the fields and hedgerows that separated Longbournfrom the surrounding countryside. She relished the solitude, the soft crunch of leaves beneath her boots, and the stillness of the world before most of the neighborhood had stirred.
Oakham Mount had always been her favorite retreat, a place where she could think without interruption. Reaching the summit, she paused to take in the view. The valley spread out below her, the roofs of Longbourn visible in the distance, with the chimneys of Netherfield rising just beyond. The sight always brought her a sense of peace, but today her thoughts were anything but serene.
The rocky path to the top of the large hill was overgrown beneath her boots. Few could manage the climb, but to her it was familiar and comforting. Elizabeth had walked it countless times, but today her steps felt lighter, her heart unusually buoyant. She tried to suppress the fluttering sensation that had taken up residence in her chest since the night before, but it was a losing battle. Every time she recalled Darcy’s deep voice asking for her hand for the first two dances at the Netherfield ball, her pulse quickened.
She sat on a flat rock and pulled her shawl closer, staring out over the landscape. Her mind was filled with memories of the previous evening and, most especially, the moment Darcy had asked her for the first two dances at the ball.
Why did he do it? Why did he ask me?
Elizabeth had turned the question over in her mind again and again during the restless hours of the night. On one hand, itcould mean nothing—he likely noticed her mother’s unsubtle matchmaking and felt a polite sense of obligation.
On the other hand, it wasn’t as though Darcy were known for his gallantry and charm. Her initial impression of him had been that he was cold and aloof, a man more interested in his own pride than in the feelings of others. Yet, over the past weeks, she had glimpsed another side of him—a man capable of warmth, generosity, and quiet affection.
She pressed her hands to her cheeks, which had grown warm despite the chill. It was impossible not to hope. The memory of his deep, steady voice asking for her hand filled her with a fluttering sensation she could not suppress. But was she reading too much into it? Was she allowing herself to be swept up in the moment without considering the reality of their acquaintance?
He is very handsome,she admitted to herself,and kind.The way he cares for his son and sister—it is remarkable. But does that mean he feels anything for me?
It was easy to imagine Darcy at Netherfield now, seated at the breakfast table with his son and sister. The image brought a faint smile to her lips. She could almost hear his low, measured voice as he inquired about Andrew’s sleep or Georgiana’s plans for the day.
Dear, sweet Andrew.
Her thoughts drifted to the little boy who had so quickly found a place in her heart. His charming smile and earnest nature had endeared him to her from the start. She remembered the way he had clung to her skirts, seeking comfort from a frighteningencounter with Caroline Bingley. The memory filled her with a surge of protectiveness, as though she could shield him from all the world’s unkindness.
She could almost feel his small hand in hers, see his bright smile when she comforted him. Darcy had seemed so grateful to her for that moment, and she could not deny how it had warmed her heart.
And then there was Georgiana, shy and reserved but with a quiet gentleness that reminded Elizabeth of Jane. She was a young girl yearning for acceptance and understanding, trying to find her place in the world.
And he does an admirable job of lifting her up.
Darcy’s attentiveness to his sister spoke volumes about his character, and she admired him for it deeply. He was a man who bore his responsibilities with grace, a man who clearly loved his family.
But is that enough?
Elizabeth sighed, brushing a strand of hair back beneath her bonnet. This was all so new to her. She had never been courted before, never had the experience of a young man declaring his admiration or love. Oh, there had been moments—glances and smiles from neighborhood boys like the Lucases or the Gouldings. But none had ever truly captured her heart, and none had pursued her seriously.
