by Beth Poppet
Bingley opened his mouth to protest, but Darcy hushed him with a raised hand, “I beg you will not press me further on the subject, Bingley. It does neither of us any good to dwell on it. Now, shall we have the tea brought up, or am I to be a patient guest and wait until Caroline returns to offer it?”
Chapter Fifteen
Summer came, and with it the prospect of Elizabeth’s return to Longbourn. Her father had written several times to beg her home again, claiming to have heard only nonsense and fashion frippery since she’d gone and certain he would not hear a word of sense until her return. Elizabeth had not wanted to leave Jane in a poor state of health, but now that she was growing stronger, less often sick, and overtaken more readily with weariness rather than a fickle stomach, Elizabeth could conceive of going home again and remaining there until nearer the end of Jane’s confinement.
There was not a word of Mary being missed either by her father or her mother, though Kitty sometimes wrote of the house being too quiet and spending a great deal of time with Maria Lucas. Mary stated she had letters aplenty from her mother and sisters which were silly enough to read only once and have done. Their mother was glad to have more daughters away than at home, so long as the rich, eligible gentlemen were not in the country any longer. Mrs Bennet even went so far as to suggest her brother from town bring the girls home, allowing them to stop in London on the way and stay with their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner for a spell. Elizabeth imagined she had had word of Mr Bingley being in town, and her supposition was confirmed upon the line in her mother’s letter which read, “For what is a husband with a little limp to suffer in the face of five thousand a year?”
Though Elizabeth did not intend to stay in town with the purpose of calling on Mr Bingley, she did see the prudence in travelling back with her uncle and aunt. She wrote to them as proposed, enquiring whether such a venture was agreeable.
Colonel Fitzwilliam intended to follow Mr Darcy back to town in a matter of days as well, leaving Lady Catherine and the small family at Hunsford bereft of all company but each other’s.
The colonel came to Hunsford and bid farewell to all the family residing there, save one. Elizabeth had been out walking all morning and was still not returned. He waited above half an hour for her before setting off in search of Miss Bennet himself, not willing that they should part ways without a word of goodbye.
She was in the grove, tears stained her ghostly face, and an open letter wavered in her trembling hands.
“Good God, Miss Bennet! Whatever is the matter?!” he exclaimed at the sight. “You look quite undone! Are you ill?”
“No, I am quite well,” she answered shakily. “I am not ill, nor injured. This is a letter from…” she shook and took a long breath, trying to steady her voice, but failing. “It is too, too cruel having known so recently what kind of man he is. How I might have prevented it, had I only believed…” unable to continue, she saved her strength in the attempt not to be overcome again.
“Is there something I might do for you?” the colonel begged in concern.
“No, only…” Her eyes met his, and she said most bitterly, “Colonel, you know all that passed between Mr Wickham and Miss Darcy at Ramsgate?”
“Only too well,” he replied grimly.
“Well, my family writes to inform me that my youngest sister, Lydia has… that she has…” Elizabeth faltered over the word, “Eloped with George Wickham, and even now my uncle and father search London over for them.” Now that it was spoken, her shoulders sank, and her voice was only kept from breaking with great difficulty. “But there is nothing that can be done, I know there is not!” she despaired. “Wickham must know we are not of means to satisfy his ambitions, nor induce him to marry her. I cannot… I dare not imagine what his intentions are beyond ruining a poor, stupid girl.”
“This is grave news, indeed,” he said darkly, though not lacking in kindness. “Have your father and uncle any idea where to find them?”
“Not in the slightest. But even if they were to be found… Oh, Colonel,” she quavered. “I dare not hope for a happy outcome. My sister is one of the most foolish, unheeding girls I have ever known, and I do not think she will be penitent. And Wickham… how is such a man to be prevailed upon to marry her? For marry her he must, or else she will be ruined and all of us with her.” She expelled something like a humourless laugh. “At least Jane is safe. Thank God that Jane is safe from this downfall. Though if the matter were known to Lady Catherine, I’m sure even Jane would not escape admonition from her.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded in understanding. “Who else knows of this beside your family?”
“No one but Colonel and Mrs Forster who were first to be informed by Lydia’s own hand. I have not even told Jane as I have only finished reading the letter these past moments. Nor do I know how to begin. She is already so distraught over Mr…” Thinking better of it, she amended her words. “Well, Mr Bingley was a good friend to us, and we are all sorry to hear of his accident, but I think Jane takes it a little harder. They met before she married—her engagement was not yet known, and perhaps I hoped—Oh, how I am going on in my anxious state. I beg you will forgive me, Colonel.”
“Say no more, Miss Bennet,” he said, patting her hand and bidding her sit and calm herself. “I believe we understand each other well enough. And if everything I’ve known of Mr Bingley through Darcy is true, I do not blame you in the least for hoping as you did. But do not tell Jane of the current matter if you can help it. I intend to do my part in setting things right before it is known.”
“Oh, Colonel. I could not have you interfere. You are hardly in a position to assist, despite your good intentions.”
“Perhaps,” he considered. “And perhaps I am in the perfect position to assist. But I will say no more than that. Do trust that all will be well at length.”
Elizabeth’s frown deepened. “But I cannot keep the matter from Jane, as my father has begged my return to Longbourn. He says it is due to the state of my poor mother regarding this scandal, although I daresay it is he that is most desirous of my return. Jane will need to know why I am leaving her sooner than expected.”
“What of your uncle?” he queried, “Were you not to travel back with him?”
“That is quite impossible now, as every spare moment he spends looking for Wickham and Lydia.”
“Then allow me to escort you into town,” he offered gallantly. “Mrs Collins need only know that your uncle was suddenly preoccupied with business and unable to fetch you himself. I will take you and Miss Mary to your uncle’s house, and when your father and he have settled the matter once and for all, you may return home with them as planned. This will be more expedient I think, than your tarrying here and going directly to Longbourn.”
“You speak as though this is a slight grievance that may be hushed up and taken care of in no time at all!”
His smile was warm and hopeful. “I do not mean to dismiss the gravity of the situation by any means, but I do have connexions… friends, and associates who may be able to smoke the blackguard out of hiding. I will say no more than that for your sake, and the sake of my associates who may wish to remain anonymous. However, I would not have you lose hope, Miss Bennet. I thank you for trusting me with such a secret, and I hope you will not regret putting your faith in me.”
His words gave her comfort, and courage enough to stay any further tears. “You are so kind, Colonel. I thank…”
“No, no,” he silenced her. “Do not thank me yet. Despite my purchased position and lack of any real service I like to consider myself a man of action and I accept no praises until victory is accomplished. Come, Miss Bennet,” he said, offering her his arm, “Let us to London.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mary did not accompany Colonel Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth to London, as Miss Anne de Bourgh had grown curiously attached to her company, and Mrs Jenkins, highly approving of the young Miss Bennet’s willingness to learn from her, applied to Her Ladyship that it mig
ht be prudent for Anne to have a companion nearer her age. Mrs Jenkins would not live forever, she reminded her. It was settled then that Mary would receive such instruction from Mrs Jenkins as to the care and comforts of Anne, Mary would benefit from the tutelage of an older woman which she missed from having grown up without a governess, and Lady Catherine need not be concerned for her daughter when Mrs Jenkins inevitably left this mortal world. Elizabeth thought it strange that no mention of either Anne’s eventual marriage, nor Mary’s were spoken of. Lady Catherine for all her forethought perhaps did not consider that Mary would ever receive a suitable offer and assumed the arrangement between her nephew and Anne did not alleviate her daughter from the necessities of a constant female companion.
Whatever Lady Catherine thought of the future, she accepted Mrs Jenkins’s recommendation and declared that Mary Bennet was to stay at Rosings indefinitely, or until such a time as her family wished her home again. Elizabeth worried that Miss Anne de Bourgh was not so fond of her sister for actual companionship but rather amused by her singular eccentricities, but she determined it was a better prospect than either Lydia or herself faced at the moment and did not question Mary’s decision to stay behind.
Her Aunt Gardiner was happy to receive her at their house in Gracechurch Street, and once the children had all been kissed, and petted, and told hold much they’d grown since Elizabeth had last seen them, their mother sent them away with the nursemaid and gave Elizabeth such knowledge of the runaway couple as she was privy to. Wickham had run up debts in both Meryton and Brighton and was fleeing the regiment due to his having no more tradesmen in the region to make false promises to. He and Lydia were much together in Brighton, thanks in part to Mrs Forster and her frequent balls, and it appeared by the letters sent to Kitty and Mrs Forster that Lydia at least believed their marriage was imminent when she had first gone away with him.
Elizabeth surprised her aunt by the vehemence with which she berated herself in not having sooner realised the true character of Mr Wickham.
“My dear,” her aunt answered, “you cannot have known such a thing would come to pass. Indeed, no one could have believed this of Wickham by the part he plays in society. It is not as if you were forewarned of some past misconduct of his to be on your guard.”
The expression on Elizabeth face was such that troubled her aunt greatly. “Lizzy, what is it? Had you been warned against Mr Wickham’s character?”
“Not in time to make any real difference,” she admitted. “Or perhaps I could have. We shall never know for certain. But Mr Darcy did try to caution me, and I thoroughly ridiculed him for it.”
“Mr Darcy! The master of Pemberley with over ten thousand a year?”
“I see the important particulars have not escaped you, aunt. Yes, the very same. We saw much of each other in Hunsford where his aunt presides as patroness of Mr Collins’ parish.”
“Ah, I see,” she said thoughtfully. “And Mr Darcy is acquainted with Mr Wickham’s misdeeds?”
“More than acquainted. Mr Wickham is the son of old Mr Darcy’s steward. The two grew up together as boys, despite the difference in rank. It was when they attended university that Mr Darcy first became aware of Wickham’s nature.”
“But you did not know this when he sought to warn you,” Aunt Gardiner supposed.
“No, indeed. I was only later informed of the particulars through a letter he wrote in defence of his own conduct towards Wickham.”
“Lizzy, do not take this too much to heart. Even if you had immediately believed every word of Mr Darcy’s, you could not have prevented this elopement. Would you have sped to Brighton and whisked Lydia away on the small chance she was with him? Even Kitty, whom Lydia confides in most of all did not know of their attachment until they had fled. You are not to blame for Lydia’s foolishness, nor for Wickham’s treachery.
“Ah,” she turned to the sound of the gentlemen returning, “but here are your father and my husband, come to tell us if the lost have been found.”
Elizabeth’s father was no less glad to see her than her aunt and uncle were, but he and her uncle took it very hard that there was still no news to report on the missing couple. Their disappointment was deeply felt by all in the small sitting room, and tea and provisions were ordered immediately, for the only thing worse than weariness of the heart is when it is coupled with an empty stomach.
After the libations had done all that was possible in cheering the downcast family, Mr and Mrs Gardiner left Mr Bennet and Lizzy to themselves. They would let the children sup in their own rooms and spend the remainder of the evening reading nursery stories and coaxing their youngest ones to sleep.
Mr Bennet stoked the fire and helped himself to a glass of Mr Gardiner’s brandy. He sank heavily into the chair as if the weight of his daughter’s scandal added to his frame as well as his weariness.
“Well,” he began, after a long, solemn gaze into the firelight, “I am glad you’ve come, Lizzy, despite the business that drives us here together.” He looked her way under raised eyebrows. “Your mother will be glad of it too, although I confess I haven’t the heart to elaborate on her silly intentions and constant scheming after husbands for you. If you want an account of all the eligible gentlemen currently in town, you’ll have to apply to her, but for my sake, please let this sad business with Lydia be resolved before you send any young men my way to ask for your hand.”
“Father, I have no such intentions at present,” Lizzy promised. “I may call upon Caroline Bingley and her brother, but I assure you it is not at all for romantic pursuits.”
“Very good, Lizzy. Well, we have missed you a great deal at home. I would say we all, but as there have been only your mother and I at home most days this season, I think I can safely say that I have missed you a great deal, and the others make themselves content with spending beyond their allowances and socialising like ninnies just as they always have. Catherine lives with the Lucases more often than at home, and your mother…” Here he trailed off and glared steadily at the glistening cup of spirits before him.
“How did my mother take the news regarding Lydia?” Elizabeth prompted.
Mr Bennet let out a humourless laugh. “Hah! Insufferably, of course. There was a great deal of shrieking for Hill, and silly dramatics, the inhaling of smelling salts, and I know not what else. Things improved when she kept to her rooms, but she is firmly convinced that I mean to fight Wickham in a duel and will be killed on the spot. Her only comfort is that Jane would be mistress of Longbourn in that case, and she would not be a widow on the streets. It does me good to know that I am not wanted solely for my property, although without question it is Lydia she frets over most of all.”
“Is there no sign at all of Lydia or Wickham?”
“No, none that your uncle and I have discovered. But what do we know of lecherous devils who hide away in secret corners of the city? We have all been thoroughly duped by him, and I cannot help but feel to blame for allowing Lydia to go to Brighton in the first place.”
Having been recently comforted by her aunt’s consolation that the scandal could not have been prevented, Lizzy sought to do the same for her father. “Father, you could not have known this would happen. We were all deceived by Wickham, and Lydia is so headstrong. I’m told she and Mama nearly plagued you to death with tears and coaxing beyond what anyone could long endure.”
“True, ‘tis true. And yet, I relented to such harmless noise. No one forced my hand, or threatened my life, yet I allowed it because I could not bear the grumbling. I did not pay heed to my deeper instincts that told me it was a foolish allowance, and now we are all brought low because of it. There, there, Lizzy,” he hushed her as he saw she intended to protest, and, “Never fear,” at her pained expression. “The guilt shall pass soon enough. Much sooner than it should, I am certain.”
A lapse of silence passed between them in which neither mustered the energy to speak for a time.
“When are you to call on the Bingleys?” he asked
at last.
“I had not decided yet.”
“Let it be soon,” he petitioned. “Give our neighbours something else to gossip about before suspicion falls on our wayward Lydia.”
“Would you have me set my cap at Mr Bingley just to throw them all off the scent?” Lizzy smiled teasingly.
“If it were possible,” he returned playfully, “I should like you to marry him and allow me to rest easy in the knowledge that you at least will be well cared for, despite our family’s fall from grace. Though not too soon, as I cannot think of losing you at such a time as this.”
“I do not love Mr Bingley, Father,” she said, almost regrettably.
“Yes, well. I cannot force your hand, nor his, and I would not cajole you into a loveless marriage, but of all the gentleman your mother insisted on my acquaintance with, he was the first I would have gladly welcomed as a son.”
Lizzy smiled with sincere feeling then, if not a little sadness. “He is a good man, but not for your Lizzy,” she told him. “Still, for your sake, I will make the sacrifice and spend a pleasant afternoon in his company to keep the gossips at bay. His sister may not be so pleasant, however.”
“Slight my Lizzy, does she?”
“As I have no aspirations of becoming her sister, her evident dislike of me is more amusing than anything. Do not worry for me; your daughter can hold her own amongst the hoity-toities of London.”
“Of that I’ve no doubt, my girl.” His tightened expression relaxed into one of real mirth, and Lizzy was glad to have made him smile, even in such straits.
With this, they bid one another a good night, and Lizzy retired to her room where she soon was lost to the repose of sleep.
∞∞∞
