by Jemma Thorne
Again Wickham tried to engage me in conversation and again I stuttered and fell short of my usual vigorous way of speaking. I was having trouble organizing my thoughts I was so angry with my youngest sister.
Lydia felt things had worked out so well. There was not an ounce of regret in her bearing. She was engaged in telling the story of her wedding. I wondered how differently Mrs. Gardiner would have related the events. The thought finally brought a bit of humor to my morning, as I imagined Lydia’s words replaced with those of our aunt and her sardonic wit at the expense of our half-witted, ridiculous sister. I would have to write to her and ask; it would be better to hear the words straight from her own lips.
Lydia was saying, “And just before we were to leave for the church, Mr. Gardiner was called out on business. It was something he had to attend to, but he was to give me away! It gave me a fright, I tell you. If we didn’t arrive at the church on time we would have had to wait another day. But luckily his business concluded quickly and we were off to the church. That was the only hitch in the morning’s plans! Truly, if he had been called away, if only my aunt would have conveyed me to the church with the servant attendant on us, then Mr. Darcy could have given me away and the wedding would still have gone on.”
Darcy!
The insertion of his name into this conversation gave me a start. How did he come into it?
“Darcy attended your wedding?” I asked.
Next to me, color rose into Wickham’s cheeks.
But Lydia answered easily, “Yes, he was there. Somber as always.” She smiled at Mother. “And at that point it all carried on, our business with the church completed oh so rapidly and then we were on our way here. Mother, do the neighbors know that I am wed today?”
Kitty broke in. “Oh, yes. It has been quite the news. I do believe almost everyone knows.”
My mind was still caught on the name Darcy.
How had Darcy come to be at my sister’s wedding? I could feel that I was missing some vital piece of information. And my heart was daring to hope there might be a silver lining in it. I must write to my aunt.
Chapter 4
Write I did. I sent my letter off the very next day. Three days later her response came. Kitty, Lydia, Mary and Mother were out in the neighborhood, making the visits that Lydia was so eager to make now that she had a ring to wave about.
I took the letter upstairs where I could most hope to be able to read it thoroughly on my own.
Dearest Lizzy,
First, believe me when I say that I sincerely regret that I am only now passing along this information to you. Darcy asked for our silence about his involvement, but your question shows you have an inkling already and so I will not waste more of your time and worry.
Yes, Darcy was present at Lydia’s wedding. He was also responsible – almost single-handedly – for bringing it about. It was he who found the errant couple in London after much searching, and he who negotiated with Wickham to find a suitable arrangement. Without him, Lydia would surely have felt the repercussions of her poor choices and those choices would have brought down the rest of you as well.
In London, I grew to like Mr. Darcy even more. While he was under strain and deeply concerned, his pleasant nature was on display always. He is a distinguished, genuine, caring man and it is my honor to know him.
I do not understand the motivation for his silence and the silence he requested of us. If he sought your affection, how is it achieved if you do not understand all he’s done for your family? But I do believe he acted with your best interests at heart and I will not fault him for that.
Now, I must go and tell my husband I’ve fessed up, after I get this letter in the post. I don’t think he’ll be too upset. Both of us have wanted to tell you. Write to me soon.
Mrs. Gardiner
Two sides of me warred over the letter’s contents. A wild sort of glee was bursting forth from my heart. Darcy had been involved. Darcy had taken care of our family.
It was true that he had some small reason to do so of his own merit. He was involved with Wickham for the entirety of their lives; he was the reason that Wickham did not have a steady income. And he was also the reason that Wickham was about in society and not carrying the reputation that he ought to have carried after what he’d tried with Georgiana. That any young lady should’ve fallen prey to Wickham’s ugly designs was, in part, in Darcy’s blame.
But he had gone so far… The small piece of me that had grown in hope when I visited Pemberley and when he had visited me in Lambton, the part of me that had felt I could confide in him in my family’s darkest hour, that part shouted out to be heard. He had done it for me. That was the truth as I knew it.
Yet there was the larger part of me that had not even allowed speaking of this to Jane, of all people. That part urged my continued silence.
Of course Fitzwilliam Darcy was not for me.
We were amiable enough. But Darcy was destined for a woman with a much stronger claim. How could I hope to be anything but his friend? Then there was his continued silence. I had not heard from him since I left Derbyshire. He had attended my sister’s wedding, when none of my family had been there. If he knew so much of us and he did not write to me in person, what could I think?
* * *
The day came when Lydia and Wickham must leave Longbourn and travel north to Wickham’s new commission. Mother lamented they should have to travel so far and that should she should be separated by such a distance from her youngest daughter. Lydia had invited the entire family north for a visit to Newcastle, but Mr. Bennet would not budge on the subject. He was happy to see Lydia as little as possible in the future. She was Wickham’s problem now.
“When shall we see each other again, my dear girl?” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.
“I don’t know. It could be two or three years.”
“Do write to me often.”
“I shall try, Mother. But you know that married women do not have much time for writing letters. My sisters are welcome to write to me often. They will have nothing else to do.”
I simmered but it was not worth engaging on the subject. Gone, gone, she was soon to be gone.
Clarice appeared beside her, as if eager to get one last glance at this Bennet daughter. She looked across at me. “You are glad to see her go.”
I didn’t need to answer; I’d made that sentiment known every step of the way.
Wickham’s goodbyes were much more manageable. Even Father smiled after him as the pair climbed into the carriage waiting in the drive. “I challenge Mr. Lucas to find such an affable son-in-law. Wickham is perfectly suited to the role. Lydia certainly deserves no more.”
Clarice said, “And the Bennet daughters are down to four.”
* * *
Mother was in a sour mood for days after Lydia left, but it turned out that Lydia’s departure was not the biggest news at Longbourn this week. Mrs. Phillips visited a few days after the Wickhams left Longbourn to travel north. She brought news from town.
“The maid out at Netherfield Park has been to town to buy meat. Mr. Bingley is returning to Hertfordshire.”
“No! Can it be?” Mother fanned herself and looked about, her flighty inclinations taking hold. Her eyes stopped on Jane for a heartbeat too long and I felt Jane tense beside me. “Is he now? Are you sure of it?”
“As I said, the maid was about. She said he is due back tomorrow.”
“Well, of course it will be wonderful to have him back in the neighborhood, if only because it might mean another ball at Netherfield.”
But Mrs. Phillips knew Mother’s true interest in Mr. Bingley as well as her daughters.
When Mrs. Phillips had left, Jane asked me to go for a walk. “Lizzy, I saw you look at me before, when Mrs. Phillips told us about Mr. Bingley.”
“I am making no assumptions.”
“Just know that while I will welcome him back and be eager to hear of his travels as a friend, I have long given up hope of anything else from him.
I will not have it said that I am trying for him in any way.”
“Understood.” I smirked at her.
She slapped my arm. “Oh, Lizzy, please don’t! You know that I could handle waiting for him to arrive except for all the presumption around it. He has no interest in me. If he did he would’ve returned months ago.”
I didn’t say anything to discourage this line of thinking. Better that Jane’s heart was not too set on any particular outcome. We still had to see what Mr. Bingley would say for himself.
Much as Mother tried to get Father to visit Mr. Bingley, it was to no avail. Thus mother lost any hope of seeing Mr. Bingley – of Jane seeing Mr. Bingley – before he had been in town for some days. Yet the day after we had heard he would arrive at Netherfield, a horse was spotted in the paddock.
“Mother!” Kitty called. “It’s Mr. Bingley!”
I glanced at Jane to find color rising in her cheeks. She straightened the skirt she was embellishing but did not set it aside. I took her lead and stayed at my handicraft.
“Who is that with him?” Kitty said.
“What?” Mother rushed into the room. “Oh! He’s not alone. Why that is… I do say! Mr. Darcy!”
“Yes, the one he was always about with before,” Kitty answered.
My shoulders stiffened and I did not know which way to move.
Darcy was here? What was he doing here?
I looked down at myself, glad I chosen the light blue muslin dress that was one of my favorites. That was a stroke of luck.
Clarice appeared to my right, between Jane and me. “Look at you, thinking about how you look as that man approaches, careless to even ask an invitation.” Clarice hissed. “He has not written. Has shown no interest. Still here you are ready to flaunt yourself at him for a second offer.”
I reached for the petrified wood talisman given to me by Lady Leticia to help banish Clarice from my presence. She saw me reach for it and her eyes narrowed. My hand clutched over the pendant, I willed her away.
She stood her ground.
I had not been practicing. Maybe my emotions were spinning a touch too far out of my control, and that’s why I could not effectively banish her.
From the other room I heard, “Well, we will accept him with kindness and every courtesy, of course.” Mother sighed. “If only because he is Mr. Bingley’s friend. Honestly, I cannot stand the man otherwise.”
I shut my eyes. When I opened them Jane was staring at me. “Are you alright?” she asked in a tone of voice that confirmed her nerves.
“It seems we are both about to suffer our trials,” I whispered to her.
And Clarice would witness it all, too.
Chapter 5
My belly was a maelstrom of nerves as Mother greeted Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy at the door. Jane wasn’t meeting my eyes. She seemed locked in her own desperate need to control her shaking hands. We had not thought he would visit so soon, if at all. Jane didn’t know all that had happened in Derbyshire. I hadn’t told her how my regard for Darcy had grown. I had thought it hopeless, after all. Now here they came again as though these many months had not passed.
I scarcely heard what Mother and my sisters said to them. I did not dare look at Darcy full in the face, though every glance caught him looking at the floor or some mundane object. He did not seem to have come to converse with me at all. Confused, I faltered over the slightest sentence, making a fool of myself.
Suddenly Clarice stood behind Darcy’s shoulder. My eyes snapped to her, to find her reaching a hand out to touch him. I glared but she paid me no mind. Her manner reminded me of that time at Rosings Park, when she had reached for Darcy’s cousin, Anne de Bourgh, the same way, as we all sat at the table. That time a malevolent spirit had drawn her interest. What made her want to touch Darcy?
I gave him a critical once-over, but I couldn’t see anything other than a handsome, human man.
As Clarice’s spectral fingers came in contact with the back of Darcy’s neck, her eyes widened and after just a moment she snapped her hand back, holding it as though it had been injured.
Darcy gave a visible shudder and reached a hand back to pat the spot she’d touched.
Had he just felt that? Had he felt Clarice’s touch?
Clarice was looking at Darcy with an expression of rapturous interest.
“Could he feel me? And what if he is a sensitive, Elizabeth? Does that make him more fit for you, or less?”
I directed my eyes elsewhere, watching Kitty say something to Mary as they both looked sidelong at Jane and Bingley. I would not look at Clarice again. And since I wouldn’t look at her, I couldn’t look at Darcy either.
Bingley was speaking of last winter in London, of hearing recently that Jane had been in town and the wonder of his never knowing it.
I heard Darcy shift uncomfortably in his chair at this revelation, which had made Jane glow with a new understanding. Bingley had not avoided her after all. Maybe these many past months had all been a misunderstanding.
In truth, Bingley seemed very drawn to my sister. His eyes barely left her and it seemed he had little appetite. But after a short visit – and Mother’s insistence that they return for dinner on Tuesday – the two gentlemen took their leave, as was the custom. Their visit left every part of the Bennet household unsettled.
* * *
After Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had taken their leave, I walked out and took the path to the small copse of woods where I wouldn’t be seen as I paced and thought over the afternoon.
I didn’t understand why Darcy had come. I could think of no explanation for his behavior that satisfied me in the least. He had been so unlike the last time I saw him, when he had spoken amiably with the Gardiners when he wasn’t speaking to me. In Derbyshire he had been simultaneously elegant and curious, forthright with his words. I thought a certain trust had grown between us, a friendship, but it was nowhere in evidence now.
With my mind stirring up all of these riddles, I paced in front of a bench in the woods, from one tree to the next and back again. The chatter of the birds could not draw my attention, or the soft breeze stirring the trees.
“My, aren’t we somber this afternoon.” Clarice had joined me and she was wearing the sardonic expression that I saw too often these days. The one that said she knew the world far better than I did and it had given her no reason for positive expectations.
“What happened with Darcy in there?” I asked her. “You touched him… Did it hurt you? In Kent you told me it took a day and a half to recover after touching Anne de Bourgh.”
Clarice pressed her lips into a straight line and watched me carefully. Finally she decided to speak. “Darcy is nothing like Miss de Bourgh. It was entirely different.”
“Considering that Anne de Bourgh was being haunted by a malevolent spirit, I certainly hope so.”
“I felt nothing of the sort with Mr. Darcy,” Clarice confirmed.
Hearing it gave me solace. “Thank you.” I couldn’t continue my pacing in her presence and so I watched her. It seemed she had more to say. “You did feel something when you touched him, didn’t you?”
Clarice turned away. “I did. And it has given me much to think about.” With that she was gone.
Jane stepped into the clearing just a few heartbeats later, making me wonder if Clarice had removed herself because she heard my sister coming down the path.
“What has you seeking out the lonely center of the woods, dear sister?” Jane’s eyes twinkled at me. “I know it was hard to see Darcy again. Now that we’ve seen the two of them we can go about our lives with a much fonder memory than the last we held of them. Don’t you think?”
Had we been at the same table? I was not at all fond of this new memory of Darcy.
She took up the pacing I had just left, but hers was driven by an excited energy, not the dread that I had been feeling. “Yes, now that this first meeting has passed, I feel so much better. I am certain of my own strength and that I can look on him as a friendly acq
uaintance, without expectation.”
“I believe you underestimate Mr. Bingley. He will show his expectations in due time.” By that I meant Tuesday, but she cut me off from saying so.
“You laugh at me, but I am only being sensible. I would expect my sister to believe me when I tell her my thoughts in private.”
“Your heart is not as sensible as all that, and neither is Mr. Bingley’s. Still…I believe you mean what you say. And I believe that you are too kind to all of us, Jane, as I always have to tell you.”
Jane couldn’t glare at me much more after I’d said that.
* * *
We did not see the gentlemen again until Tuesday. In all that time I was trying to decide what to do about Clarice, or by turns, running from the very thought of her. There was a part of me that had tied these two parts of my life together in my mind. For if Darcy did not pursue me, it was possible the settling of that affair would also settle my great-great-grandmother’s spirit, enough that we could live together at least.
Except that when I thought of having Clarice always with me, it gave me a great foreboding about the quality of my future. I could not be entirely myself with her always clinging to me, speaking her harsh opinions in my ear, demanding my attention. After a time it may fracture my wits entirely.
Yet I didn’t know what else I could do. Could I craft a plan and take the steps to end the existence that Clarice enjoyed now? It was too much…
I tried not to dwell, but my sleep and my waking hours were disturbed with the circular thoughts.
And so Tuesday came. The party for dinner at Longbourn included Mrs. Phillips, Mrs. Long and her nieces, and the Lucases. I hoped such a crowd would give me the opportunity to speak at least a little with Darcy. I feared that he would once again show so little interest that I could hold out no hope at all.
The gentlemen arrived in good time. I busied myself greeting our guests and Maria Lucas distracted me so I wasn’t tempted to stare across the room at Darcy, who was speaking to her father.
