To their surprise, he said, “No, they were not, because on his way home last night, Henry Forrester rode all the way there to tell them what had happened, which is why Mrs Morris did not send one of the men over to investigate.”
Elizabeth shook her head; she could hardly believe it. This was surely well beyond the call of duty. Cassandra assured her that it was exactly the kind of thing Henry would do. Indeed, Isabella would expect it of him.
***
A few weeks later, Richard and Cassandra arrived at Pemberley with the good news. The governing board had appointed Richard to manage the hospital and conduct a research program into sanitation and antisepsis. On the basis of a paper he had presented to them, they were willing to let him put in place a program of hospital hygiene, which he had claimed would save patients’ lives and protect their staff from infection.
Elizabeth and Darcy were delighted. “I always knew you would succeed, Richard,” Elizabeth said when the initial excitement had subsided.
“No one who knows Richard’s dedication to his work could have doubted that he would,” said Darcy, but, he added, it would have been no easy task to convince the conservative members of the hospital board.
Richard admitted that he had had doubts himself. “But the evidence I presented was so overwhelming and, with your generous offer to fund the research program, sir, they had to agree that it was worth trying,” he declared. “I did tell them that their hospital could become a leader in the Midlands, if we succeed.” His eyes were bright with the eagerness of the enthusiast who is convinced he has the right solution to a problem.
It was a quality Mr Darcy admired and Cassandra loved. She was immensely proud of her husband. Elizabeth understood how much Darcy loved his son-in-law; he shared his conviction and willed him to succeed. He would gladly help him in any way possible.
Cassandra then informed them that they had to go away to London, where Richard was to attend the great teaching hospital, Barts, for a term in order to prepare himself for the position he was to hold at Matlock. “This is a great honour, Mama,” she explained, “and we are indebted to Daniel Lambert’s father, Sir Tristram. He arranged it through his cousin, who is on the board.”
The rest of the evening was spent in discussing preparations for their departure, especially since Cassandra wished to accompany her husband and take her younger children with them.
Naturally, Darcy offered them the use of his town house in Portman Square, which would save them having to take all their servants along. Cassy was overjoyed and very grateful, “Oh, thank you, Papa. That means I need only take Nurse Marsh and Lucy,” said Cassy, embracing both her parents and promising to write regularly.
As they were leaving, Julian, who had been out riding with friends, returned in time to wish them farewell and promise to visit them in London, where he expected to be with some friends fairly soon.
His mention of the name Henry Wickham in this context startled both Darcy and Elizabeth, but when he said no more, they asked no questions until they were at dinner and Julian returned to the topic. “This fellow Wickham, he has a house in London and has invited us up there.”
Darcy’s countenance grew dark as he said abruptly, “Julian, if you wish to go to London, you can stay at Portman Square with your sister. There is no need at all for you to stay with this … this person.”
Julian looked surprised, and his expression changed to one of astonishment when his father went on, “I absolutely forbid you to see this fellow.”
Julian opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Elizabeth intervened, “Julian, I think you should talk to Papa after dinner about this; if this man is the same Wickham…”
“Of course it is the same Wickham—he has to be George Wickham’s son,” snapped Darcy, who was now so angry that he could barely speak. He had almost conquered what had been a quick temper, but when it came to the Wickhams intruding upon his family, he could not be sure of controlling it.
Elizabeth tried again, “Dearest, I think you should have a talk with Julian—after dinner. I know he will understand why you feel as you do, once he knows all the facts.”
Realising that he was embarrassing her before the servants, Darcy agreed, and Julian, taking his cue from his mother, said no more.
Grateful that they had avoided an unseemly fuss, Elizabeth said nothing. When they repaired to the drawing room, she noted that father and son were soon deep in conversation at one end of the room while she sat at a side table and completed her letters. There was no further mention of Wickham.
Julian spent some time at the piano but grew bored with it, said goodnight, and went upstairs.
Later, in their bedroom, Darcy suddenly apologized. “Lizzie, my dearest, I am sorry about this evening. I should have known better. I never meant to embarrass you. Will you forgive me?”
She smiled and took his hand. “What is there to forgive? We, all of us, and you most of all, have every reason to be angry with Wickham. I can understand that perfectly. I was only concerned that Julian did not know why you were displeased and was bewildered and confused by your anger and your order forbidding him to see this young man.”
Darcy was contrite. “I know it was stupid of me to lose my temper. It is just that I could not bear to think of anybody connected to Wickham having anything to do with our son. Henry Wickham is apparently staying with friends in the Bakewell area; Julian has met him at the Camden’s place. Aware of his father’s example, I do not believe that the son will be a suitable companion for Julian.”
She made it clear that she understood him completely and was further reassured when he explained that he had given Julian some, but not all, of the background of Mr Wickham’s activities and obtained from him a promise he would not accept his son’s invitation.
“He has given me his word; I know I can trust him,” he said.
***
Some weeks later, Elizabeth, returning from a visit to the Gardiners at Lambton, found a letter from Charlotte Collins awaiting her. It was always a pleasure to hear from Charlotte, who was one of her oldest and closest friends. On this occasion it was doubly so, for the letter not only brought news from her friend but announced her likely arrival at Pemberley for a short visit, if the dates were convenient to Elizabeth and Darcy.
Charlotte explained that she had been persuaded by her daughters to retire and sell her now very successful school for ladies.
I think you will understand, dear Eliza, that the girls feel I have worked long enough and are determined that I should spend however many years I have left in some comfort. For myself, I feel quite fit and healthy and, God willing, will remain so, but they will not let me continue working.
We have therefore negotiated a sale to a Mrs Peach of Mansfield, who will take over the lease and the school in November. I have the luxury of being invited to live for all or part of the year with any of my daughters, but, while I love them all dearly, I should prefer to retain some degree of independence. I have therefore decided to accept the invitation conveyed to me through Jonathan from your sister, Mary, to make my home with her at Longbourn.
Elizabeth was a little taken aback, but it was a consequence of surprise rather than disapproval of Charlotte’s decision. Neither her sister Mary, who lived at Longbourn, nor her nephew Jonathan, who was in fact the ultimate inheritor and present manager of the Longbourn estate, had mentioned it to her.
She was surprised but not necessarily upset.
Charlotte continued:
Dear Eliza, I am not aware if Mary and Jonathan have discussed their kind invitation to me with you, but, for my part, I would like very much to see you and know that you and Jane have no objection to it.
I want to reassure you that I shall be taking up residence as a guest, invited by Mary and Jonathan. I believe Mary has been rather lonely of late, especially since the death of her friend, Mrs Langley, the
organist at the church. She had indicated to Jonathan that she would very much appreciate my company. I am sure I shall feel the same.
I shall, of course, pay my share of the expenses and the wages of my maid.
The letter concluded with her usual greetings and good wishes.
Elizabeth hastened to reply, wishing both to reassure Charlotte that she had no objection at all to her accepting Mary’s invitation to stay at Longbourn and to confirm the dates for her visit to Pemberley.
She was about to ring for some tea when her maid hurried in with a letter that had only just been delivered. Elizabeth could tell from the handwriting that it was from Cassandra. Opening it at once, she settled down to enjoy what she expected to be an account of their first few weeks in London. She had missed her daughter and welcomed all the news.
Indeed, she was quite diverted by Cassandra’s description of a visit to a dressmaker, where she had been confronted for the first time with the very latest in ladies’ fashions—the hideous and unwieldy cage crinoline.
Cassy was horrified by it; she wrote:
It must surely be the most inconvenient fashion ever—I am sure it would get in the way of everything. And how one would ever get into a carriage or a hansom cab, I cannot imagine!
But, just as Elizabeth was relaxing into her chair with a smile, the next page of Cassy’s letter, which appeared to have been written a couple of days later, caused her to sit up in considerable agitation.
Cassandra’s tone had changed altogether.
Dear Mama, I do not know quite how to tell you, but there is something very disturbing going on, which I am sure will concern you and Papa.
You will remember Sophie’s sister-in-law, Frances—Daniel Lambert’s youngest sister—who was one of the bridesmaids. Well, she has been in London staying with an aunt in Knightsbridge. I have met them briefly in the park and at the Robinsons’, where we were invited to dinner last Saturday.
Mama, you will not be pleased to hear that on both occasions Fanny Lambert was escorted by none other than Henry Wickham, Aunt Lydia’s son, and his father arrived in the course of the evening to join the party. They appear to be friends of the Robinsons.
At first, I thought I might have been mistaken, since I am not very familiar with Mr Wickham Senior; but I was introduced to him, so there could be no mistake. Indeed, he rather cheekily asked to be remembered to you and Papa!
“Did he indeed?” cried Elizabeth, angrier than she had been in years. Turning over the page, she read on.
I have mentioned this to Richard, who thinks it may be much ado about nothing, since Fanny Lambert is not yet sixteen. But I am not so sure, for she seems very naïve and impressionable, and Henry Wickham is very handsome and has a smooth manner that could well take her in completely. I did manage to have a little chat with her and have invited her to take tea with me next week, when I shall attempt to discover more about this friendship with young Mr Wickham.
I do know that Papa and you are exceedingly wary of the entire Wickham clan, so I promise to keep you informed.
When Darcy returned that evening, Elizabeth did not wait long before she mentioned Cassy’s letter. “I have had a letter from Cassy,” she said, and he turned to her with a smile.
“Indeed, and is she enjoying London?” he asked, expecting her to hand him the letter or read it to him as she usually did.
When she did not, he seemed puzzled. “What is it, Lizzie? Is there some problem? Is it Richard or one of the children?” He sounded anxious, and she immediately tried to reassure him.
“Oh no, dearest, it’s nothing like that. They are all perfectly well. But I’m afraid there is some unpleasant news. Fanny Lambert—Daniel’s youngest sister—is in London and so, it seems, is Mr Henry Wickham. Cassy has seen them together twice and has gained the impression that he is courting her. On the last occasion, when they dined at the Robinsons’, George Wickham himself was one of the party.” She handed him the letter, which he scanned hurriedly.
Darcy was clearly appalled. “Lizzie, this is bad news indeed. Miss Lambert must be totally ignorant of his background. The Lamberts would be horrified if they knew the truth.”
Elizabeth was at a loss. “What is to be done? She is little more than a child.”
“That has never inhibited Wickham. He probably knows that her father is a wealthy man and, with her brother in Parliament, she is just the kind of young woman Wickham would seek to exploit. If Henry Wickham is anything like his father, and is determined to woo her, she is in grave danger indeed,” he said, and Elizabeth could hear the suppressed anger in his voice.
Darcy had a very determined expression and even before he spoke, Elizabeth guessed what he intended. “There is only one thing to be done, Lizzie—what I did not do on the last occasion all those years ago, when so many people suffered as a result. This time, I shall do what I must. I shall speak first with Bingley and then see Sir Tristram Lambert.
“It is intolerable that Wickham and his son should be able to insinuate themselves into the society of those who have no knowledge of his true character and his past behaviour. Their ignorance makes them vulnerable.
“I shall lay the facts before Sir Tristram, and he can decide if he wishes to acquaint his daughter with all or part of the story. At least I shall have done my duty.”
Elizabeth realised what it would cost him to do this thing—the mortification would be unbearable. She put her arms around him and told him that, if he preferred it, she could speak to her sister and let the Bingleys tell Sir Tristram. But he was quite determined. It was, he said, his responsibility, and he must carry it through.
“Bingley has no direct knowledge of Wickham and his misdeeds. I do, and I must speak up. There is no other way, Lizzie,” he said.
Darcy made his plans with discretion and care, reporting later to Elizabeth that Bingley had agreed with him that the Lamberts had to be told. It was a matter of principle, and the fact that he would need to reveal information that was private and personal to his own family was something that had to be borne.
“I would not wish to have it on my conscience, Lizzie,” he said with the kind of determination against which, Elizabeth knew, it was impossible to argue. On some issues he was implacable, but so strongly did she believe in his integrity and trust his judgement that she accepted his decision on this matter without question.
Elizabeth visited her aunt, Mrs Gardiner, to discuss the subject and found her in every way in agreement with Mr Darcy. “There is no question, Lizzie, your husband is absolutely right. The Lamberts have to be told—if only to allow them an opportunity to protect their daughter from what might be a most unfortunate association. Should the girl believe herself in love and, like our Lydia, do something foolish, it would be disastrous!” she warned.
“And Darcy would never forgive himself,” added her niece grimly.
Elizabeth had already written to Cassandra urging her to keep as close a watch as possible on young Fanny Lambert:
It is imperative that you stay in touch with her and her aunt; be as friendly and amenable as you can, but do not let her discover that you have written to us. If she should confide in you, listen and advise caution, but do not say anything that may cause Mr Wickham to be suspicious of you. Dear Cassy, whatever you do, do not let Fanny elope with Henry Wickham!
Meanwhile, Papa will attend to matters here; he hopes to warn Sir Tristram of George Wickham’s past misdeeds.
Elizabeth hoped desperately that nothing untoward would happen in the meantime. She knew Bingley would soon convey all of the matter to Jane, and she wondered what her sister’s response would be. Would Jane, ever tender-hearted and scrupulously fair, consider that it was unfair and uncharitable to condemn young Henry Wickham on account of his father’s sins and perhaps blight his reputation and prospects in the way that Darcy’s revelations would? Could there be another way to deal with the si
tuation? Try as she might, Elizabeth could not see one.
She was in a flutter of uncertainty when a letter was received from Jane revealing that her sister and Bingley were as one with Mr Darcy on the subject of the Wickhams and Fanny Lambert.
Anxious to avoid any embarrassment to the Lambert family resulting from an association with Henry Wickham and his father, Jane wrote:
In fact, Lizzie, Bingley was so concerned he offered to speak with Daniel Lambert himself, but Mr Darcy was quite determined that it was his responsibility.
I suppose it must be done, if only to avoid any awkwardness should the Lamberts, in ignorance, permit him to court Fanny. She is, Sophie tells me, very young and innocent, and it would be dreadful if young Henry Wickham turns out to be as duplicitous as his father.
Of course, as I did say to Bingley, we cannot know for certain that this is the case. Henry Wickham may be a perfectly decent gentleman—although, with a father so lacking in principle and a mother as undisciplined as Lydia, it is very unlikely.
But Lizzie, we are all astonished at the remarkable forethought and sensibility Cassandra has shown in this matter. To have remembered young Wickham and observed Fanny’s involvement with him is natural enough, but to go further and alert you and Mr Darcy shows a keen awareness of her responsibility to her family. I know we are very grateful to her, and I am sure the Lambert family will be too, once the truth is known.
Elizabeth smiled as she read Jane’s words; her sister had certainly come a long way since the days when she had been reluctant to make any judgement at all, fearing she would be too harsh upon one of her fellow human beings! She agreed wholeheartedly about Cassy, whose fine understanding and sensitivity set her apart. Elizabeth was very proud of her daughter.
Darcy returned later that evening and, to Elizabeth’s relief, he was smiling as he came up the stairs. Seeing her puzzled expression, he stopped at the top of the stairs. “Why, Lizzie, my dear, you look rather surprised to see me,” he said, to which she confessed that she had not expected to see him looking quite so cheerful after what must have been a difficult day.
The Women of Pemberley Page 21
