“Would to heaven that anything could be said or done on my part that might offer consolation to your distress,” said Darcy, his voice very low. “Jane begs your presence in London; we shall leave within the hour.”
Elizabeth nodded, her tears slowing at the prospect of being useful to Jane, if only to console her. Darcy rang the bell; when a servant appeared, he gave instructions to have their trunks packed and the carriage readied at once. It was exactly as she had feared, and yet worse all at once; Lydia had quit her friends, the Forsters, leaving only a letter expressing her joy at her impending elopement with George Wickham. Colonel Forster had been able to trace them as far as London, but not beyond; she was alone, unmarried, in the company of a known scoundrel and had been for some time.
Lydia was ruined, and in doing do brought ruin and shame to the whole of their family. Elizabeth’s grief renewed and she wept on.
Darcy came to fetch her not an hour later; catching her in a moment of brief respite, he aided Elizabeth into their carriage and after leaving a message for his sister, they were off at once.
Chapter 7
During the journey, the Darcys spoke little. He occasionally inquired after her health and wellbeing, but did not otherwise press her for conversation. Elizabeth felt more keenly with each passing mile how very much he must resent her now. They were well and truly trapped; had they not been caught out and accused of impropriety by Mr. Collins that day, Darcy would not have to share in this disgrace. Their own hasty marriage had been enough to endure, but Darcy was well-respected; Mr. Wickham may have been liked in some circles but he wasn’t respected at all, and with no money to buy himself respectability, they must all suffer Lydia’s fall together.
Elizabeth had not yet the fortitude to extend her regretful thought towards Georgiana; she could only hope that Darcy had not fully revealed the purpose of their journey.
Jane’s letter had indicated Mr. Bennet was already bound for London; Elizabeth’s hope was to meet him there with her uncle, Mr. Gardiner. If nothing else, she could give comfort to Jane and their aunt Gardiner. As for Darcy, Elizabeth could not comprehend his intentions beyond accompanying her to her family there. She could scarcely bear to receive his gaze, much less to talk to him at such a time. That Darcy should have to fall so far, and all because she did not share the report she’d had of Wickham from her maids. Poor, foolish Lydia; God help them all.
So circled the thoughts in her mind until they arrived at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet were out; Darcy expressed his intention to pursue them and on seeing Elizabeth safely inside, sped off in their direction. Elizabeth went to Jane directly.
“How bad is it?” asked Elizabeth, embracing her sister at once.
“It is as I wrote you,” reported Jane. “Colonel Forster arrived first, just a few days ago. Father arrived yesterday; he and our uncle have been out almost every hour looking for any sign of them, but we’ve had no other news.”
“Oh, Jane,” said Elizabeth, fighting the urge to weep; the time for tears had passed. “Our mother did not come to London?”
“Father thought it best that she remain at Longbourn; he left her in the care of Mrs. Philips.”
“I am inclined to agree with his choice,” said Elizabeth; she wanted to smile at that, but it was not the time for smiles either. “I expect in this case he was right to keep her there, though I’m certain Mama does not agree.”
“Father said she took to her bed on receiving the news and Mr. Philips reports that has not yet left it since.”
“And what of you?”
“I am well, Lizzy; nevermind me.”
“And your Mr. Bingley? I want to tease you about him but today I do not dare.”
Jane blushed and smiled. “Bingley has been most solicitous. Father had not been in town more than an hour or two before Bingley arrived to offer his assistance.”
“I’ve no doubt Father accepted,” said Elizabeth; Bingley’s five thousand a year would certainly help bring the matter of Lydia’s marriage to the point.
“He did. I believe Bingley is with him even now. But where is your husband, Lizzy?” Jane smiled at the word. “I have yet to see my new brother.”
“Darcy is off in search of Father and Mr. Gardiner.”
“His help will be most welcome.”
Elizabeth was not at all sure he intended to help, despite his indication to do so. She had no real reason to doubt him but her own mortification was too great to assume he would bear the additional shame of concerning himself with her relations any more than he had to.
A servant delivered the tea. When they were entirely alone once more, Elizabeth asked the question of Jane she’d not dared to broach earlier.
“Jane, have you spoken with Mr. Bingley about this business directly?”
“I have, yes,” said Jane, placid as ever. “I know what you are going to say, Lizzy.”
“Then you are better acquainted with me than I am,” said Elizabeth. “For I do not know how to ask it.”
“You suppose this horrible misunderstanding with Lydia and Mr. Wickham will somehow harm my engagement to Mr. Bingley.”
“In so many words, yes,” said Elizabeth. She abhorred the thought of bringing any more injury to Jane’s gentle heart, but she could not leave the subject untouched. Were she and Darcy unmarried or even engaged, she’d be asking the same questions of him.
As it was, in Elizabeth’s case, it was too late for Darcy. She could not bear to think of it now; she trained her thoughts back in the direction of her sister and Mr. Bingley.
“Bingley and I have spoken of it openly, and at length. I felt he must be made aware of every particular as he has only just agreed to marry into this family. It would have broken my heart,” here Jane’s voice failed her a moment, “But I could not insist he remain attached to me if he’d wished to distance himself from the scandal.”
Elizabeth reached for Jane’s hand, holding tightly. Jane breathed deeply, then smiled.
“But Bingley is made of stronger stuff. He was most put out that I would have released him from our engagement at all.”
Elizabeth smiled in reply. “Of course he was.”
“He went to Father directly and offered his help by whatever means necessary.”
“I am glad of it, Jane. Thoughtless, foolish Lydia!”
“I’m am still convinced there must be some misunderstanding,” said Jane.
“That is because you are too inclined to think well of people in general, and our sister in particular. Lydia is entirely a selfish being, and while I grant you that she may have been persuaded to be in love with Mr. Wickham, she knew better than to behave this way. Father ought not to have let her leave home.”
“He said so himself,” replied Jane, aiming to soothe as she always did. “I think he feels the effects of her actions deeply.”
“So must we all,” said Elizabeth, looking away.
“Yes. But I think you mean something else. What is it, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth took some time to reply.
“I think Darcy regrets me.”
“That cannot be! You told me yourself in your letters, he has been in love with you all this time!”
“He may have been,” conceded Elizabeth. “But the hasty marriage of one Bennet followed by the elopement of another… I do not know how such tender feelings might survive the shame. And Lady Catherine…” There Elizabeth stopped, for she had not once thought of Lady Catherine since the day of her own marriage. Heaven forbid Lady Catherine be privy to their current circumstances. Elizabeth could only wish that the ordeal might be swiftly, quietly settled, for her family’s sake as well as for Darcy’s.
“I cannot speak for Lady Catherine, nor for Mr. Darcy, but for him I believe I may venture a guess at his feelings on this subject,” said Jane. “Bingley thinks of no one more highly than he does of your husband; he has told me so on numerous occasions.”
“I believe it,” said Elizabeth. She was not ye
t ready to disclose the conversation she’d had with Darcy that precipitated Jane’s engagement; as she did not wish Jane to think ill of Darcy for distancing Bingley from her, Elizabeth judged it a subject for another day.
“Bingley has also confided in me that Darcy was rather madly in love with you, even before you traveled to Hunsford and became engaged.” Here Jane blushed, and Elizabeth suspected she knew the cause. On this, at least, she could be open with her sister.
“Before you continue in your protestations on my husband’s behalf, I must tell you, Jane,” said Elizabeth. “I was not compromised.”
“But,” Jane said, her color very high indeed. “But Mr. Collins insisted—“
“Mr. Collins has a very particular idea of what compromised means,” said Elizabeth. “And as we were brought up together, I hold it on some authority that his definition and yours are in fact not the same.”
“Do you mean,” Jane began to whisper. “You and Mr. Darcy were not--?”
“No, sister mine,” said Elizabeth, feeling the urge to laugh for the first time in days. “We were not. Darcy is every bit the gentleman, and has been every minute I’ve been acquainted with him, both before and after our wedding.”
Jane watched her a moment longer, and Elizabeth felt her own color rising. Jane would not speak it, but Elizabeth could guess what came next.
“Whatever you’re about to ask, save it for after your own wedding,” teased Elizabeth. Jane’s blush returned with vigor and she promptly changed the subject.
Chapter 8
They passed some days in this fashion, assisting their aunt with her children, talking of their own marriage prospects, mourning over Lydia’s. Darcy had stayed with Bingley at his townhouse as they were, by all accounts, keeping the same unhealthy hours as Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet in the search for Lydia and Mr. Wickham. The ladies by turns wrote to Mrs. Bennet at Longbourn as often as they had news to share, which wasn’t often at all. Three days had passed since Elizabeth and Darcy’s arrival, and yet the missing couple remained hidden.
The afternoon of the fourth day brought news at long last. Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner returned unexpectedly; Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were unaccounted for.
“They are discovered,” said Mr. Bennet when Elizabeth and Jane rushed into the parlor where he and Mr. Gardiner rested. “Your Mr. Darcy, Lizzy. I don’t know how he managed it, but he discovered them.”
“Then they are married!” cried Jane. “It is as I always hoped.”
“They are not married,” said Mr. Gardiner. “Nor have we discovered they had any intention of becoming so. But they have agreed to it, at any rate.”
“Lydia is to marry Mr. Wickham on the morrow,” said Mr. Bennet. He appeared to have aged several years in the last few long days.
“You said Darcy discovered them?” asked Elizabeth.
“He did,” replied her father. “I know not how he managed it, but he reported to us midmorning today that he’d seen them and at which address. He was not there when we arrived, but his information proved true.”
Elizabeth knew her feelings for what they were; in that instant, she was overwhelmed with love for him. She found on further examination that she’d loved him before. Now, when it seemed Darcy must certainly loathe the very sight of her, she loved him more than ever.
“He must have laid out a great deal of money,” said Mr. Gardiner.
“Yes,” said Mr. Bennet, glancing briefly at Elizabeth. “He must have done. Wickham’s debts are egregious; he’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds.”
“Heaven forbid,” said Elizabeth. Jane gripped her hand in steadfast support.
“How is Lydia?” asked Jane.
“Lydia is as Lydia has always been; she is delighted with herself. She is conscious of no ill, nor of any harm done. Lord, but I wish I had never heard of Colonel Forster, or his new wife, and that no one in the whole of history had ever traveled to Brighton!”
“Father, you mustn’t blame yourself.” Elizabeth loved her father dearly and hated to see his pain.
“No, Lizzy. For once let me feel the full weight of my responsibilities, for the blame is well and truly my own. I daresay I shan’t be carried off by the sensation; it will pass soon enough.”
The wedding took place in a quiet chapel near the Gardiners’ home in Gracechurch Street; neither Jane nor Elizabeth were permitted to attend. On its conclusion Elizabeth was immediately collected by Darcy; they were to travel to Longbourn for Jane’s wedding to Mr. Bingley.
At least, that was what Elizabeth had told the Gardiners after Darcy advised her to prepare for the trip. It occurred to her more than once that Darcy might very well intend to deliver her to her family home and leave her there, never to return. It seemed an unlikely course for a person of his character, but after Lydia’s disgrace and the shameful way he found himself connected once again to George Wickham, not to mention their own less-than-perfect beginnings, Elizabeth could hardly fault him if he did.
She worried deeply, too, for Jane. Mr. Bingley had not appeared at Gracechurch Street since the first day of her arrival. Jane assured her in the firmest manner she could that Mr. Bingley was true to her and would not change his mind. Knowing as she did precisely by what means Mr. Bingley might be swayed, Elizabeth’s worry for herself and her sister grew unabated.
Darcy accompanied Elizabeth in the carriage for the trip to Herefordshire. Her nerves were such that she did not hear him the first two times he spoke to her.
“I say, Elizabeth, are you quite well?” Darcy was leaning toward her, peering into her face. Elizabeth started.
“I am well, thank you,” she said.
“You did not respond just now. Were you so lost in thought?”
“I suppose I was thinking of my mother.”
“Mrs. Bennet will be excited to see her daughters, I should think.”
“She will,” said Elizabeth, a blush beginning already. “She will be excited to see three daughters married.”
Darcy did not at once reply.
“I’m speaking primarily of Jane, of course,” said Elizabeth. She spoke quickly to try to minimize the damage he must endure at any hint of Lydia’s escapades.
“If I recall correctly, Mrs. Bennet was keen to have Mr. Bingley for a son-in-law long before we came to expect the event.”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes. “You remember it. I fear my mother’s enthusiasm was not subtle.”
“I’ve embarrassed you. That was not my intention.”
“You misunderstand; my family embarrasses me,” she said. “And I am sorry you’ve been forced to share in that.” Elizabeth strove to keep her tears at bay; she would not mortify him further.
Darcy took her hand in his.
“Elizabeth,” he said softly. “Look at me, please.” She did so.
“I won’t pretend to have enjoyed these last few days, nor did I enjoy dealing with Mr. Wickham.” At this, the first of her tears escaped. “But you must know, truly you must. I would do it again, if only to spare you the pain he caused you.”
Elizabeth looked at him through her tears and felt the first spark of hope in her breast. Could he possibly love her still? He seemed to read her mind, for he answered aloud, “I love you.”
Elizabeth wept then. Through her tears, she apologized for her family’s behavior, for Lydia, for her own old dealings with Wickham, for not trusting Darcy and not knowing him for what he was from the very first.
“Darling,” said Darcy. He gathered Elizabeth to him, the sight of her crying intolerable to him. “Can this mean… Do you--?”
After a time, Elizabeth composed herself. On shaky breaths she answered the question he’d been unable to ask.
“I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, if that is your question. I have loved you for some time, but knew it not until I began to think you might prefer to see me spend the rest of our marriage as far from you as possible.”
Darcy was rendered speechless. Elizabeth recou
nted the majority of her conversation with Jane; that Jane was assured of Bingley’s commitment, regardless of their youngest sister’s behavior, and that Elizabeth felt no similar assurance.
“You were forced into this match as much as I,” said she. “I would be the last one to blame you if you sent me to Longbourn to stay.”
Then Elizabeth heard a sound she almost did not recognize.
Darcy laughed.
He laughed long and loudly, as though every weight he’d ever carried had been lifted all at once. When his breath caught up with him, Darcy spoke again.
“Elizabeth Bennet Darcy, I love you -- have loved you for months. Being forced into this marriage, to borrow your phrase, was not my first choice for our life together; but marrying you was, and no matter how it was accomplished I am eternally grateful that it has happened. If you can find a way to be happy with me, I have all I want.” He sobered. “George Wickham was always an evil to be managed. I keep him at a distance wherever possible, but he continues to materialize in our lives. Lydia’s elopement with him did not originate those facts; he was always going to come back, one way or another. It is my own cross to bear.”
“Not solely yours,” said his wife. “Not anymore.”
Darcy squeezed her hand tightly and smiled before pressing his lips gently to hers.
Chapter 9
While Elizabeth and Darcy each privately wished they could repair at once to Pemberley, there was a duty yet to be performed. Jane and Mr. Bingley were to be married at long last. Elizabeth was to stand up with her sister, and Darcy with Mr. Bingley. The week prior to the wedding they spent as guests at Netherfield, to the delight of everybody except Miss Bingley. The anticipated event was met with joy on all sides, Lydia’s recent misadventure nonwithstanding, and the town of Meryton celebrated for them all.
When it was finished, the Darcys set out for Pemberley at once. They were eager to resume their own honeymoon, as the presence of other newlyweds served as a constant reminder of their unresolved plans. For a young married couple who’d spent very little time alone together, the journey home passed less quickly than they would have liked. The intimacy of the carriage provided some appeasement, but very little in the way of comfort.
Compromised Page 4
