An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 16

A/N - Happy Palm Sunday, for those that celebrate! I hope you are staying safe at home and keeping well. Let's crack on with the stories, shall we? xx

"How peculiar that Mr Egerton should think he knew you!" Caroline Bingley remarked for the third time in an hour.

She was perched in her usual seat in the Netherfield parlour but had lost the support of her sister and brother-in-law, who had decided to take advantage in the break in the weather and take a carriage to call on some local friends. Bingley remained, for which Darcy was grateful. He saw no need to perpetually mention the absent Mr Egerton, nor his mistaken belief that he had known Mr Darcy in times past. In fact, whenever Caroline made her pronouncement, Bingley shot her a look, before darting one of apology back at Darcy. It mattered little, for even without Caroline's reminder on the quarter-hour of the peculiarity of that afternoon's interview, it would have continued to circle in Darcy's mind, torturing and tormenting him by turns. How could it be that this Mr Egerton, who was a stranger to him by name and reputation as well as in person, should have the name Fitzwilliam Darcy lodged so firmly in his brain? How, too, could it be on Darcy's shoulder he apportioned the blame for so great a misfortune as had befallen him. The mistake must be intentional, Darcy reasoned. There was no other explanation. He could not have picked the name out of the ether: it must have been given to him. But by who? This was a true mystery. Darcy ground his teeth together, certain that he could imagine only one person so sly as to substitute his own name with another's, and only one man wicked enough to need to: George Wickham. Certainly, his old friend knew enough of Darcy's personal history that he could claim it as his own, and trot it out with little fear of mistake or misstep. Surely he had to have known he could not continue on in this way forever, though? Surely he must guess that, one day, his sins would find him out?

Perhaps, instead, he hoped they would find me, Darcy thought, unhappily recalling the bitterness in Egerton's voice. If the man could see, he would have known in an instant that the Darcy before him and the Darcy of his past were not the same man. If he could see, Darcy continued, he would not bear such a grudge, to begin with! His blood ran cold. He had known Wickham to be callous and selfish, but he had never imagined the man could be so evil as to cause a man's injury and leave him for dead.

Egerton had not spoken at length of what had happened, and Darcy yearned to know. There had been an accident, although the snort that had preceded the word "accident" suggested to him, if to nobody else, that Egerton used the word loosely. Wickham could not have planned it, though, surely? That was akin to murder, and Wickham was many things, but he was not a murderer...was he?

"I mean, it is peculiar enough to cross paths with somebody one knows when one does not expect to see them, isn't it?" Caroline continued, in her prattling way, neither knowing nor caring that her observances served to irritate both gentlemen who sat with her. "I mean, imagine coming all the way to Hertfordshire and seeing again some friend from London!"

Darcy groaned, managing at the last moment to disguise the reaction in a cough. Bingley glanced at him but did not seem unduly concerned, believing Darcy's lie for what it appeared to be. Relief flooded through him. The very last thing he wished to discuss, aside from the villain in Mr Egerton's past, was crossing paths with old acquaintances once more. Elizabeth Bennet's face flitted through his memory once more, as it had formed an unhappy habit of doing. She had changed in their time apart. She was a little older, but that did not explain the sharp creases in her forehead, the way her eyes had widened in shock and surprise when she saw him. She did not laugh or smile as easily as she had when they first met, but neither did he. Life had dealt him some hard blows during their separation, trials that would have been borne better with her by his side.

It was not to be.

"What was that, Darcy?" Bingley turned to him and Darcy started, surprised to realise he had muttered the words aloud.

"I...merely agreed with Miss Bingley," Darcy said, feebly. He realised too late that this show of partiality would merely encourage Caroline to speak more on the very subject he had wished to avoid, but there was no escaping it now. He fixed a vague smile on his face she beamed at him.

"Indeed! I mean, I cannot imagine many people would willingly forsake London for Hertfordshire." Caroline uttered the word as if the place was a pit, scarcely for habitation.

"Hertfordshire is a fine place!" Charles retorted, unwilling to hear a word said against the county he was rapidly forming a great attachment to. "Netherfield Park is quite a charming place and I am very pleased with myself for choosing it!" He clapped his hands. "And if the weather continues to improve, I think we ought to call on one or two of our neighbours tomorrow, Caroline. You'll come too, won't you Darcy?"

A refusal waited on the tip of Darcy's tongue, but Charles spoke on, denying him the chance to use it.

"First of all, I think, shall be a call to Longbourn! What do you say, Caroline? I know you will be as eager to see Miss Bennet again as I am...!"