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Anne shuddered at the very thought, and Lizzy had enough sense not to dig that hole any deeper.

Anne looked at me carefully. “Except for the arrogance, rudeness, and—what was it, Lizzy, selfish disdain—I believe you will find Richard close to the same description, Charlotte.”

All of a sudden, the phaeton was not the best invention in history. In fact, it was of little more utility than the prison or the guillotine. I gave her my best disdainful stare, but the daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh was not to be intimidated by the likes of me.

Lizzy saw the storm brewing, and thought to stop both of us in our tracks, probably mainly to keep us from talking about Darcy any more.

She said brightly, “Let us go to the parsonage. I would like to see how my poultry and my pig are prospering!”

We all agreed and Mr Smith was obliging enough to lead us hither. Anne made her best attempt to convince him to let her drive, but he was not to be moved, which surprised nobody. I suspected Anne did it just because the man found the whole exercise so amusing. He had known her since she was a child, and I suspected he looked on her as something of a favourite.

With the afternoon sun shining brightly, the flowers starting to show the spring bloom, and Aunt’s garden taking on the full beauty of the coming spring and summer, we began the half-mile journey to the parsonage.

Rendezvous

Mystery Narrator

Mr Bingley surprised me! No, surprise is not the right word; shocked would be much better. I gave him an impossible task in desperation, and he delivered. The man had done the impossible! It was extraordinary, and I felt a little bit bad about the deception and the risk to his person… but I would survive the feeling.

According to his letter, all proceeded according to my instructions, so I simply sat waiting for him and his miscreant of a companion. It was late Saturday afternoon, the sun was shining outside, and I could see the parlour well; but I chose a shaded and nearly invisible corner to hide in. It would not do for them to recognise me too quickly.

Mr Wickham was barely recognisable, with long hair dyed an ugly shade of black, an unkempt beard, and a generally disreputable appearance. The whip marks on his cheeks certainly made him more closely resemble his true character than his handsome appearance had. He was carrying a knife in one hand, and his companion was staying as far away as possible while still in the same room. Apparently, he had some sense.

When they approached the door to the dining room I occupied, I decided it was time to make my presence known. I thought they might very well stop cold with the right sound, and it need not be a very loud one, so I simply cocked the hammer back on my pistol.

Both men froze on the spot, much as I had hoped. I knew not what Mr Wickham expected, but I doubted a this was it. They could no doubt see the barrel pointed directly at Wickham’s gut. Since they had frozen solid ever so politely, I decided it was time to introduce myself. I very carefully rose from the chair without allowing the pistol to waver, and walked around the table.

Both men gasped in shock at seeing me. I knew they both expected Mr Darcy, but alas, all they got was poor little me.

I walked a few steps closer. “Welcome, gentlemen. I have been expecting you.”

Mr Bingley was still staring like an owl, as he had not started putting all the pieces together; but his basic politeness would not allow him to stand there with his mouth hanging open, so he gave the appropriate greeting.

“Mrs Bennet. This is… unexpected.”

Both men were clearly shocked to see me, and I suspect I looked just a touch mad, which was both close to the truth and useful to my purpose. I was not overly worried about Mr Bingley. He had courage—you had to give him that—but he was not a vicious man by nature and would not harm me or any other more or less innocent for the world.

Wickham, on the other hand, started pulling the knife forward, so I dissuaded him. Once I was five paces away, I lowered the pistol until it was pointing at his most prized possession.

“I will thank you to rid yourself of that knife, Mr Wickham. I am no marksman, but I have fired well over fifty rounds in the past several months, and I doubt I could miss you from this distance. Will you choose to die a few minutes or days hence from festering wounds lying on this floor, or will you live to fight another day?”

He looked at me appraisingly, but he could follow the direction of the pistol as well as I could, and the conclusion was inescapable.

Somewhat to his credit, or more likely his show-off nature, he threw the knife the dozen yards to bury itself in the far wall, without ever moving his hands to a place where I could not see them.

I watched him carefully. “I fear I must detain you for a bit, Mr Wickham. We have some business to conclude. Mr Bingley, I will oblige you to lift the bar on that cellar door behind you. Mr Wickham, I kindly request you cool your heels down there for some time.”

Wickham was ever the gallant. “I think not, Mrs Bennet. I have little faith you will not deliver me to Darcy, or his cousin, or the militia; and it seems unlikely you will actually shoot me when it comes right down to it. I think I shall make my stand here.”

I simply stared at him long enough for the man to start squirming. He knew I was not as strong as I appeared to be, and I was certain he was underestimating my resolve, but on this matter, I was not to be gainsaid. It did not take that much strength to pull a trigger, and I had neatly boxed myself into a position where I had no other choice. That had seemed a good idea at the time, and possibly it was the only way to force myself to do what needed to be done. I felt myself shaking, but made sure it was not visible to either of the men. It would not do to kill one of them through sheer nervousness.

“My life may already be forfeit, but I will not mind taking you with me.”

I stared him down until he started truly squirming, making sure to show a touch of either desperation or madness in my face.

“Mr Bingley, if you please… the door. Mr Wickham, you have until he lifts the bar to decide whether you want to die today or see if Lady Luck will favour you once again. Come now… you are not afraid of the lady, are you?”

“Which lady?”