by Janet Aylmer
“Why, yes, if you insist,” said his friend, “but I would prefer to accompany you, if I may. I should be very happy to see Miss Elizabeth again. It is so long since we last met in Hertfordshire.”
This was not the reply that Darcy had expected, and he deliberated briefly as to what Miss Bennet’s reaction to seeing Bingley might be. He was, after all, the man whom she thought had been too easily persuaded to forget her elder sister.
However, it might be a benefit to the good impression that Darcy sought to create in the lady’s mind for his friend to be eager to see her. Thus it was settled that Bingley should accompany Georgiana and her brother, and they were soon together in the chaise and travelling across the park towards the Lambton gate.
On their arrival at the Inn, Bingley waited below, and Darcy and his sister were taken into the parlour to see the visitors.
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were as affable and pleasant as they had been the previous day. Miss Bennet was much quieter than he recalled when they had met in Rosings, but he was glad to see the trouble she took to make conversation with his sister, who shyly endeavoured to play her role. Darcy wondered if the visitor was thinking of the contrast between Georgiana’s unassuming and gentle manner and what she had thought of his own in Kent.
Darcy asked if his friend might join them, and was glad to see nothing but pleasure in Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s expression as Bingley came in. He greeted her warmly, and was quickly introduced to her uncle and aunt. Bingley was soon making conversation with them as if he had known them from a much longer acquaintance. How Darcy envied his facility in light conversation. Again, he regretted his own greater difficulty in such matters.
Bingley enquired in a friendly, though general way, after the Bennet family. Darcy did note that, once, his friend asked particularly whether all Miss Bennet’s sisters were at home, and the tone of his voice was such that it denoted rather more than just pleasant interest on that point.
He heard his friend then say, “It was a very long time since I have had the pleasure of seeing you,” and, before Miss Bennet could reply, he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the 26th of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”
She acknowledged this warmly, and Darcy thought that he caught her looking at himself for a moment as she did so.
After some prompting from her brother, Georgiana extended an invitation to the travellers from Hertfordshire to dine with them at Pemberley on the following day. There was a short hesitation, which to Darcy seemed awkward, and perhaps to presage an excuse for refusal, before the answer came. However, Mrs. Gardiner, having glanced at her niece, said that they would all be delighted to accept. Bingley then expressed great pleasure in the certainty of having the opportunity to see Miss Elizabeth again.
Before Darcy and his party left, the invitation to Mr. Gardiner to fish at Pemberley with the gentlemen was renewed, and an arrangement made for the following morning. Miss Bennet looked at Darcy as this was decided, and smiled, as though to thank him.
Thus it was that he returned to Pemberley in a better humour than when he had left, and found no difficulty in being civil to the Hursts when they arrived late in the afternoon. Even Caroline Bingley’s obvious distaste for the news of their forthcoming dinner engagement could not harm his contentment.
As he retired for the night, Darcy hoped at least that he had begun to show Miss Bennet that he had lost some of the self-consequence, and unbending reserve which she had so deplored in Kent. If that were the case, then he now needed to be able to reinforce that better impression.
23
The following morning, Mr. Gardiner kept his engagement to fish at Pemberley before noon.
Darcy and Mr. Hurst were there to meet him, together with the other gentlemen of the party. It was some half an hour before a casual remark to his host by Mr. Gardiner alerted Darcy to the fact that Miss Bennet and her aunt were themselves at Pemberley, returning the courtesy of the call made by Georgiana at Lambton the previous morning.
Darcy quickly excused himself and hastened to the house.
There he found the two ladies seated in the saloon, and partaking of some refreshments with Bingley’s sisters and Georgiana. Mrs. Annesley was encouraging her mistress to make conversation with Mrs. Gardiner and her niece. Mrs. Hurst and her sister, Darcy noted, were sitting away from the others, and appeared little inclined towards conversation.
Darcy was soon aware that the Bingley sisters watched any move he made to give attention to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
On seeing her brother, Georgiana came across to greet him, and then went back to sit next to Miss Bennet. Darcy moved to sit near Mrs. Gardiner, who confirmed his favourable impression of the previous day by making conversation with Mrs. Annesley, and including Georgiana in the discourse when there was an opportunity to do so.
Suddenly, Darcy heard Miss Bingley say, with sneering civility,
“Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ___shire militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family.”
Darcy turned and looked quickly at her as Miss Bennet replied with apparent calm to this provocation.
Miss Bingley appeared disappointed. At the same time, Darcy noted that she had failed to see that Georgiana had been overcome with confusion at the mention of the name of Wickham.
Her brother then maintained his gaze at Miss Elizabeth Bennet, without seeing that his sister continued to be unable to lift up her eyes.
Darcy was more concerned to see whether Miss Bennet retained any remnant of that interest in Mr. Wickham that had so pained him in Kent.
Her lack of reaction, and her composure despite Miss Bingley’s sharp remarks, heartened him. He hoped that might mean that she no longer was deceived by that member of the militia. That thought led Darcy on to reflect that he would never have been prepared to confide in Miss Bingley the information about Georgiana’s experience at Ramsgate that he had entrusted to Elizabeth Bennet without any fear of it being revealed.
He soon forgot the mention of that affair in the pleasure of entertaining Miss Bennet under his own roof for the first time. It seemed all too soon before she and her aunt gave their compliments and were escorted by their host to their carriage.
When Darcy returned to the room, Miss Bingley was venting her feelings to Mrs. Hurst in criticisms about Miss Elizabeth’s person, behaviour, and dress.
“How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy.”
He turned to look at her silently, without expression.
“I never in my life saw any one so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.”
Darcy cared little for this address, but contented himself with coolly replying, that he perceived no other alteration than her being rather tanned, a not surprising consequence of travelling in the summer.
“For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable.”
Darcy, exasperated, allowed himself to appear somewhat nettled at this attack, but again remained silent.
She continued, “I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield,
“She a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.”
“But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.”
“Yes,” replied D
arcy, who could contain himself no longer, “but that was only when I first knew her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”
He then left the room to go to his sister, who could be relied upon to take a very different view of Miss Bennet. However, Darcy hoped that his answer would put an end to Miss Bingley’s barbed remarks. He had no intention of pandering to her ill feelings.
24
The following day, Darcy could look forward to Miss Bennet and her relations dining at Pemberley.
However, he determined to ride to Lambton that morning in the hope of finding her there. If she would agree to take a turn in the open carriage with Georgiana and himself one afternoon, Darcy could rely on spending a couple of hours in the company of the two people he knew that he now held dearest in all the world.
At the Inn, the servant told Darcy that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had gone out, but that Miss Bennet had remained behind, to join them later. Darcy followed him upstairs to the room that he and Georgiana had visited the previous day.
He was met by the sight of Miss Bennet rising from a chair, with a letter in her hand, apparently in a state of great agitation.
Her pallor and manner startled him as he heard her exclaim on seeing him, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not an instant to lose.”
“Good God! what is the matter?” he said.
Then, recollecting himself, he said “I will not detain you a minute, but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”
She hesitated, and then after a moment called back the servant, asking him, in tones of great distress, to fetch his master and mistress home, instantly.
On the servant leaving the room, she sat down, looking miserably ill. Without realising what he did, Darcy took the nearest chair and, leaning forward, took her hand in his.
She seemed unaware of his presence. After a few moments, her apparent distress made him say, very gently,
“Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take, to give you present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”
“No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”
She then burst into tears, and for a few minutes could not speak another word.
Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say something indistinctly of his concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. Eventually, she straightened herself in the chair and he reluctantly let go of her hand as she spoke.
“I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from any one. My youngest sister has left all her friends and has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of . . . of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to... she is lost for ever.”
Darcy could find nothing valuable to say.
“When I consider,” she added, in a yet more agitated voice, “that I might have prevented it! I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it, only some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, all too late now.”
His first thought on hearing her speak was that she had kept the confidence that he had entrusted to her about Georgiana and Wickham.
The second was that his first thought was unworthy if, by maintaining that silence which he himself had asked, she had been unable to prevent what had now happened to her sister.
Unable to find any words to allay her distress and, as Miss Bennet seemed lost in unhappy thought, he at first kept silent. Then, lest he appeared unconcerned, he said with complete truth, “I am grieved, indeed, grieved and shocked.”
Seeking to give her something to hope for, he went on, “But is it certain, absolutely certain?”
“Oh yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland.”
“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”
“My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”
As Darcy shook his head silently, his mind was busy.
Wickham, he recalled, had spent some time during the past few years in London. Indeed, it was there that Darcy believed he had met Mrs. Younge, who had taken charge of Georgiana with such unhappy results. It could be that his sister’s unfortunate experience might enable him to trace Wickham when Mr. Bennet and his brother Gardiner could not.
He was roused from his thoughts by Miss Bennet’s distressed tones, as she said,
“When my eyes were opened to his real character.—Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared, to do! But I knew not,—I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched, mistake!”
Darcy made no answer. That she accepted his opinion of Wickham was so very welcome; his concern now was more for her distress than for the fate that might befall her sister.
However, there seemed to be nothing he could say which might not promise what might not be achievable, or appear facile when he wished to show his genuine anxiety.
At last, and after a pause of several minutes, he felt that he should intrude no longer, and said to her quietly,
“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part, that might offer consolation to such distress. But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks.”
Her head was bowed, and she did not reply. After regarding her gravely for some moments, Darcy rose to his feet. Before he turned to leave the room, he suddenly recollected the plans which had been made for them to meet later.
“This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley today.”
“Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long.”
He readily assured her of his secrecy and concern for her distress, wished for a happier conclusion than might appear likely, and left his compliments for her relations.
As he reached the door, Darcy could not bring himself to leave without turning to give her a last, long, look, for he knew not when he might see her again.
Miss Bennet had lifted her head and, just for a moment, he fancied that there was something in her expression that was more than anxiety; more than regret at his going.
But it was no time to linger, or indulge his own concerns. Without saying any more, he left the room and shut the door behind him.
Part Five
He has been accused of many faults at different
times, but this was the true one. Nothing was to be
done that he did not do himself.
25
It was in a very different frame of mind from a few hours earlier that Darcy made the journey back to Pemberley.
What changes there had been over the past days and hours to excite his emotions. He had gone from despair, through shock, to pleasure and delight, and back again.
It was some comfort to him that Miss Bennet’s aunt and uncle would be travelling with her. They both seemed to be people of a sensible disposition and sound character, on whom she and her father could rely to assist in this unhappy matter.
H
owever, as he rode across the valley towards the house, Darcy was more than ever certain that he should involve himself in the search for Wickham and the youngest Miss Bennet.
He was under no illusion that this intention rested on any regard for either of them. His opinion of the gentleman in particular was incapable of improvement, especially after their encounter at Ramsgate. His dislike had not been lessened by the attraction that might have fleetingly affected Elizabeth Bennet before Darcy had made her aware of Wickham’s true character.
At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that deception was over. Indeed, he would be able to think of the lady as his Elizabeth in his dreams, now that particular bar to their future acquaintance had been removed.
The recollection of what he had written in his letter at Rosings reminded him forcefully of all that unhappy conversation with her on the evening when he had declared his heart. He thought, ruefully, that his resolution on leaving Rosings to forget his affections and all his memories of the lady and Hertfordshire had come to very little.
His reservations about some of her family had, Darcy feared, been only too justified in respect of her youngest sister. If he now needed to travel at short notice to town, a place which had very little pleasure to offer him in the summer, and to pursue two people for whom he had so little regard, that would be nothing if Elizabeth Bennet might as a result find the situation resolved, and the ill-suited couple brought to marriage.
When he reached the house, Darcy sought out his sister, finding her in the first floor sitting room playing her pianoforte.
“Georgiana, I have to travel to London tomorrow—there is business I have to attend to for a few days.”
His sister looked puzzled, for they had only left town some four days earlier.
“It must be very urgent?” she replied.
