by Kay Bea
Mrs Bennet grew still and silent.
“Because of your interference, Lydia is now missing. She has run away with the man who importuned her sister and cannot be located!”
“Your precious Lizzy tried to seduce Wickham away from my Lydia! I knew how it would be! I knew you would take her side!”
“My information comes from Colonel Forster himself! He witnessed the immediate aftermath of the incident. Lizzy did not attempt a seduction. Wickham imposed himself on her! And for her troubles, she has been labelled wanton by her own mother! Good god, woman! Have you no decency? No compassion?”
“None of this would have happened if you had not sent Lizzy to Brighton! If she had only done her duty and married Mr Collins or, at least, remained here where she belongs, then Lydia would be returning home an engaged woman instead of skulking off to Scotland where she might be robbed or killed on the road! Oh, my poor girl!”
Mr Bennet was stunned at his wife’s refusal to see truth. “She has not gone to Scotland.”
“Of course, she has! Where else can she be married if not in Scotland?”
“She cannot. The roads to London and to the North have been searched, and there has been no sighting of either Wickham or Lydia. They have vanished, and it is well known they did so together, Mrs Bennet.”
“But if she does not marry…we are ruined! Oh, Mr Bennet!”
“On that much we can agree. Now hear me, Mrs Bennet. You will speak of this to no one! Not your sister, our friends, the servants, or even our other children. There will be no exceptions. The only hope you have for your remaining daughters is in the slight possibility of keeping this quiet. We will tell everyone that Lydia could not bear to be parted from her friends and chose to remain in Brighton.”
“And what of Lizzy? I suppose you will welcome her back as though she has done nothing wrong?”
“Lizzy is even now travelling with Mr and Mrs Bingley, and with them, she shall remain. Hear me well, madam, you will not say one word against Lizzy. Not one. If so much as a whisper of scandal begins to circle about that child, you will find yourself banished to the furthest possible corner of this estate with only your pin money on which to survive. Do not test me on this, Mrs Bennet.
“There is more.” He waited to assure he had his wife’s attention. “Because I do not trust your silence, you will find your social calendar severely limited for the foreseeable future. No invitations will be issued or accepted without my approval, including those to or from your sister Philips.”
“But what about the girls?” Mrs Bennet whined. “Surely you will not deprive them of their share of diversion?”
“I will take over Mary and Kitty’s continued education. They will only attend social events with me or Mrs Bingley as chaperone. What you may do is remain at home and reflect on the means by which you might improve your character!”
“I will not be made a prisoner in my own house!” Mrs. Bennet cried.
“The trouble is of your making and so may the remedy be. If you demonstrate improvement, we may revisit this conversation in a few months’ time.” Mr Bennet said this without the least expectation of it ever happening. “Now, I must see if there is anything to be done to save our youngest child from your stupidity and my neglect.”
Mr Bennet did not entirely succeed in keeping his wife at home. The day Mr and Mrs Bingley returned to Netherfield with Elizabeth, a note was dispatched to Longbourn informing Mr Bennet of their safe return, and, unbeknownst to the master, Mrs Bennet decided she should pay a call on her married daughter as soon as possible.
When she was announced, Mrs Bennet found her second daughter alone in the drawing room. Elizabeth sent a maid for tea and asked the footman to summon Mrs Bingley. Mrs Bennet flounced to the nearest settee and scarcely waited for the servants to depart before launching her attack.
“Well, Miss Lizzy, I see you have managed to impose yourself on your sister’s household. Here you are sitting in her drawing room and ordering her servants about as though you are the mistress of the house!”
“There is nothing improper in my sending the footman to fetch his mistress. As for my living here, Jane invited me before her wedding to come to Netherfield upon my return from Brighton.”
She sniffed. “I believed your behaviour in Brighton would cause Mr Bingley to turn you out. Perhaps you have treated him in the same manner you attempted to do with our dear Mr Wickham.”
“You are mistaken, madam, and I cannot think Jane would be best pleased to hear you casting such aspersions on her husband’s character.”
She disregarded Elizabeth’s words and continued. “If only your father would allow me to have my way, I am certain the whole of Hertfordshire would know the truth by dusk.”
Elizabeth looked as if to respond but was forestalled by the entrance of Jane. “That is enough, Mama!”
“Why Jane, you look the picture of happiness! Now you are here, I am sure we can set everything to right. Your sister has acted most disgracefully. You must not risk your own reputation by association.”
Jane turned to Elizabeth and said, “Lizzy, pray forgive me. Would you mind giving me a moment’s private conversation with Mama?”
As Elizabeth stood, she asked, “Shall I fetch Bingley?”
“Do not trouble yourself.”
Mrs Bennet preened, confident she would clear things up with her loveliest of daughters. Jane waited for the door to close before speaking.
“I was not aware you had been invited to call today, Mama. I was given to understand you were not to leave Longbourn.”
“Nonsense, I may come and go as I please. Now, speak to me of Lizzy. I know not in what manner she has imposed herself, but I have had the truth of the events in Brighton. Were it not for Lizzy’s interference, I know Lydia would not have needed to run away with Mr Wickham. She could have returned from Brighton and enjoyed a proper engagement with teas and dinner parties and all her friends wishing her happy!”
“There is no one to blame for Lydia’s foolishness but herself and her mother! Lydia has been indulged, spoilt, and left to run wild for the entirety of her life. You have encouraged her improper and undisciplined behaviour at every turn. Are you aware of the events in Brighton? Do you know of Lydia’s behaviour there?”
“Of course, I know. Lydia confided all to me in her letter. You and your father and that odious Mr Darcy may have sought to hide the truth, but my Lydia loves her mama! Lizzy was angry because Mr Wickham had transferred his affections from her to Lydia. In a fit of pique, she tried to seduce Wickham away from her own sister and revealed herself to be spiteful and wanton. She was thwarted in her success only because of Mr Wickham’s inherent goodness and virtue!”
“Perhaps, Mama, you noticed the marks still visible on Lizzy’s wrists? They were meant for Lydia. George Wickham stole into Colonel Forster’s home for an assignation with her. An assignation they had planned, I might add, with the assistance of Mrs Forster. This is the manner of gentleman to whom you have so gleefully consigned your youngest daughter. Yet you degrade Lizzy? Have you lost your senses?”
Mrs Bennet was struck momentarily mute. She had, of course, seen the bruising on Elizabeth’s wrists but had not considered what it might mean. “Do not be ridiculous! Mr Wickham is a gentleman. He would never behave in the manner you have described. Lizzy should have remained in Hertfordshire and allowed Lydia to have her fun! Why should Lydia be denied when all her sisters—”
“I will not hear another word against Lizzy! You will keep a civil tongue in your head!”
Mrs Bennet was indignant. “Why, I have never been so disrespected in all my life! Apologise to me this instant, Jane Bennet!”
“I am Mrs Bingley, madam, and you are no longer welcome in my home. You have insulted my sister, my husband, and, by extension, myself. Begone, Mother.”
Bingley entered the room as Jane finished speaking.
“Mr Bingley, I am so relieved you are here. I have been used most ill. Your wife, my own
daughter, has accused me of—”
Once again, Jane unceremoniously interrupted. “Mrs Bennet was just leaving.”
“It seems that is for the best.” Bingley faced his mother-in-law. “You appear overwrought, Mrs Bennet. Perhaps you should rest. At home.”
Jane turned and addressed the footman. “Mrs Bennet is no longer welcome at Netherfield. Kindly escort her from the house.”
Following the confrontation with her mother, Jane was informed by a passing maid that Elizabeth had returned to her chamber. Jane hesitated only briefly before going upstairs herself. She tapped on the door to her sister’s sitting room. “Lizzy?”
She heard movement inside and, a moment later, Elizabeth appeared with a well-worn letter clutched in her hands. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her cheeks were stained with recently shed tears. “Lizzy.” Jane held her sister close and rubbed circles on her back until the younger woman composed herself.
After a few minutes, Elizabeth pulled away and sniffed. “I shall be well, Jane. I shall.”
“Of that, I have no doubt, dearest. Will you tell me what this is about?”
“My own foolishness, I think.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I heard you with Mama.”
“Our voices were shockingly indecorous. I shall be surprised if the entire household does not know what transpired today.”
“I would not have you forsake our mother on my behalf.” Elizabeth took a deep breath and continued. “This conflict between us should not be yours to bear.”
“You have done nothing wrong, and I will throw off anyone who says differently, including our mother. Her refusal to acknowledge responsibility for her own behaviour or Lydia’s is unacceptable.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You are too good.”
“No, I am not. I am your sister, and it is my right to protect you, even from our family if need be. I love you. Now, will you join me for tea, or shall I have a tray sent up? You must eat.”
“I will come.”
Two hours after Mrs Bennet was escorted home, Mr Bennet, Mary, and Kitty were announced to the residents of Netherfield. On hearing her father’s name, Elizabeth tossed aside the book she was trying to read and flew to her father’s embrace. “Papa! You have come!”
Mr Bennet held his daughter, tears welling in his eyes. “Of course I have, my dearest girl.”
Elizabeth drew back from her father only to be surrounded by her sisters. Words were not sufficient to convey their relief and happiness at her return, and they embraced with silent tears for several minutes. When it seemed their greetings were complete, Mr Bennet asked for a moment alone with Elizabeth and, when it was granted, led her to another room.
“I apologise, Elizabeth.”
So surprised was she at this statement that Elizabeth did not know how to respond. She could only look at her father without any real understanding. “Papa?”
“For all of this. For being a selfish, stubborn old man. For not truly listening to you weeks ago. For forcing you to accompany Lydia. For not keeping your mother away from here today. I was wrong, Lizzy. I was so very, very wrong, and no one has suffered more for that than you.”
She knew she should be angry with her father. After all, had he not insisted she go to Brighton, none of the rest would have occurred, and she might even now be married to her beloved Fitzwilliam. But she found she had no capacity for further resentment. Her anger seemed reserved for her mother, Lydia, and him. This was her beloved papa, and she could only grant the forgiveness he sought. “I love you, Papa.”
“And I love you, my little Lizzy,” he said with a kiss to her cheek. “Now, your sisters have been kind to leave us alone, but we may approach the limit for even Mary’s forbearance if we do not join them soon.”
If there were moments when the conversation became awkward or Elizabeth seemed to withdraw from company, it was not remarked upon. Kitty and Mary were invited to remain at Netherfield overnight. Mary, in her self-appointed role of guardian and protector, begged to be allowed to remain with Elizabeth for the night. Elizabeth had no objection to the scheme. In fact, she was secretly pleased at the prospect of having company.
The night before, in the Bingleys’ London townhouse, Elizabeth had pretended to fall asleep quickly so Jane would not feel obligated to remain with her. That strategy would not lend itself to success tonight. Mary was a more astute observer than her eldest sister. They had been lying in silence for some time before Mary spoke. “Have you slept well at all since, well, since that night?”
“I did not think you knew I was awake.”
“It is not unremarkable that you would find sleep elusive.”
Elizabeth rolled up on her elbow so she could face her sister. “Mary, what did Papa tell you happened in Brighton?”
“I think at first he did not wish to tell us anything. When the letter came from Colonel Forster, Papa was with Mr Darcy in his book room. He summoned Jane and Charles from Netherfield and—”
Elizabeth interrupted. “Mr Darcy was with Papa when my circumstances became known?”
“He was often at Longbourn. He spent hours visiting with Papa, riding the estate and playing chess. They seemed well on the way to becoming friends.”
Mary’s words provided Elizabeth some comfort, and she hoped Darcy would soon find a way to answer her letter.
The younger sisters returned home the following day but visited Netherfield often thereafter. Mr Bennet was also a frequent visitor to his daughter’s home, but he was reluctant to leave his wife for any length of time.
When Darcy left Colonel Forster in Brighton, he did not make for Scotland. His knowledge of George Wickham’s habits and proclivities convinced him the man would be more likely to go to London. The trip would be shorter, less expensive, and the scoundrel could easily abandon Miss Lydia and disappear into the seediest parts of the city. Though he stayed in his own house, the knocker remained off, he reviewed none of his correspondence, and all matters of business were referred to his steward in Derbyshire. He considered it fortunate that his family and most of his acquaintance had forsaken the heat of the city for the country.
He had hoped to enlist his cousin’s assistance, but the colonel was away on a training exercise and was not available. Left with few options, Darcy decided on another avenue. He spent his nights searching gaming hells, taverns, and boarding houses, listening for any word of his quarry. When he was not buying the occasional drink for a possible informant or carefully losing a round of cards, he worried he would only find Miss Lydia after the reprobate had deserted her.
I should much prefer him dead. Yet, I shall find them, and I shall effect a marriage for Elizabeth’s sake. And if the groom is not in his best looks, well, that will also be for Elizabeth.
It was in a derelict tavern called the King’s Sovereign that he finally heard of his quarry.
“Wickham! That lying sneak thief! Why, if I ever lay eyes on ’im agin,” one rake-thin bounder said as he pounded his fist on the table.
“What? What’re ya gonna do? Breathe on ’im, Snake? That’d knock him on his dandiprat arse but it ain’t like to git yer coin back,” replied a bald, broad-chested gamester.
Darcy shifted in his seat.
Baldy continued speaking. “‘Sides, I hear ’e’s got somethin’ else to occupy him.”
“Oh? Wha’s that? Some tasty little bit no doubt. Boy could charm the skirts offa da queen, I reckon.”
“Ol’ Jimmy says Wickham got hisself a gentleman’s girl this time. Course the last time ’e said that ’twas naught but a lie,” Baldy scoffed.
“Wickham always wants more’n ’e can git. I say ’e’s lyin’ again.”
“Mebbe. ’e’s about as good at spinnin’ a tale as findin’ a light skirt. Almos’ got his self kilt last time. Don’ know what ’e wants wif dem ’ighborn types. Nothin’ but trouble.”
“Ya got that right.” Snake agreed. “Where’s ’e crawled off to this time?”
“Nowhere you can get to. ’e
went south. London ain’t safe for the likes of ’im.”
“Iffin ’e was as good at the table as ’e is wit da wenches ’e wouldna hafta worry. Bastard owes ever’un I know. Who tol’ Jimmy all this?”
“Jimmy had it from Millie Younge.” Darcy tensed at the name of Georgiana’s perfidious former companion and accomplice in Wickham’s treachery. “She’s havin’ a right fit about it too! Says ’e was s’posed to leave this chit like all de rest of ’em, but ’e canna shake ’er loose. ’e ’ad to send Millie a note, couldn’ e’en get to town wif ’er.”
Snake laughed at that. “Finally went and got hisself caught? Serves ’im right. Alls I can say is ’e better stay hid a while.”
The men returned to their game. Darcy made a hasty exit.
As expected, he found Mrs Younge to be less than welcoming, yet a few well-phrased questions, and even fewer coins, finally loosened her tongue. Based on the lady’s information, Darcy departed for Portsmouth the following morning at daybreak.
Darcy’s thoughts were never far from his Elizabeth, and he often wished to take pen to paper to offer her whatever comfort he could. However, he felt keenly the guilt of not having protected her and believed she must blame him for the events in Brighton. He was determined to write only when he was able to correct the wrongs that had been done to the Bennet family.
He was confident he would find Elizabeth’s sister and her paramour in Portsmouth. He broke his journey at Liphook and arrived in the port town two days later. It seemed at first he was going to meet with nothing but disappointment. One dingy neglected inn after another left him with no information and an increasing sense of failure. He was heartily sick of the smell of rotting fish, stale alcohol, and sour bodies that seemed to permeate the air around him. He was convinced that a month’s ablutions would not suffice to cleanse himself of the filth he had encountered. He had decided to return to his lodgings when he saw a small, miserable little place with the unlikely moniker Queen’s Castle. Everything about the inn, from its name to the broken glass in the window frames, suggested this would be precisely the sort of place Wickham could afford. With a weary sigh, he admitted himself to the dim interior and nearly shouted with relief when he recognised the man behind the inn’s bar.
