Perilous Siege

by C. P. Odom

  “Mrs. Forster, Mama!” cried Lydia ecstatically. “She has asked me to accompany her when the regiment goes to Brighton!”

  “Oh, that is marvelous, my dear! Marvelous!”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes at another exhibition of her mother’s foolishness, especially since it seemed to have inspired a similar lack of judgment in her youngest daughters. Only her desire to hear the details of this new scheme prevented her immediately leaving the room.

  “She said I was her particular friend, and she would be devastated to go to a place where she knew no one else!” Lydia said. “Lizzy, you must congratulate me on my good fortune!”

  Elizabeth was in no mood to do so and said so forthrightly, which brought the usual condemnation from her mother. She ignored this, being all too familiar with the very young Mrs. Forster who had only recently wed the commander of the militia regiment. It had been predictable that she and Lydia would become fast friends, since they both possessed the same exuberant humor and unrestrained, lively spirits. Lydia always called on her when she walked to Meryton.

  “I cannot understand why Mrs. Forster should not have asked me too,” Kitty said mournfully. “I have just as much right to be asked as Lydia.”

  “But you are not her particular friend!” cried Lydia, dancing about the room and accepting the congratulations of her mother. “You are just jealous!”

  “But I am two years older!” Kitty said, sitting down and beginning to weep in disappointment and mortification.

  Elizabeth could only shake her head. She knew Colonel Forster was a widower, his wife having died in childbirth some years previous to his arrival in Meryton. He was a man of middle years and possessed a modest wealth, and she knew he must have been lonely. Unfortunately, he had chosen, as so many men in his situation did, a young woman marked more by her youth and beauty than by her suitability to be the wife of a man of his station and responsibilities.

  Meanwhile, Lydia’s untamed raptures continued as she declared her need for new clothes since she would be attending all sorts of balls and dances in Brighton, and her mother voiced her complete and enthusiastic concurrence.

  “Before you spend any of Papa’s money, Lydia,” Elizabeth said, “you had better realize he will not approve such a foolish excursion. Heaven’s above! You are only sixteen! It is complete nonsense on the very face of it. He will not let you go.”

  “Of course, Mr. Bennet will approve of Lydia going with Mrs. Foster! You are just as jealous as Kitty. That is why you are so critical of Lydia’s good fortune, yet you have not even the wit of Jane and Mary in securing a husband!”

  Elizabeth went tight-lipped with fury at hearing such a thing from her mother’s lips, especially in front of her sisters. Even more, just the oblique mention of Darcy’s continuing absence sent a white-hot pang of anguish into her very heart. Wordlessly, almost trembling from her suppressed fury, she stood and left the room. Minutes later, the front door to Longbourn slammed as she left her mother and Lydia to their shared triumph.

  ***

  Wednesday, May 8, 1812

  Longbourn, Hertfordshire

  “Yes, Lizzy?” Mr. Bennet said as Elizabeth came into his library, her eyes much brighter than was usual these days. He had not the slightest idea of what might be causing the changes in her mood, her manner, and even her figure. He thought she was far too thin these days, almost certainly from the long hours she spent walking about the country.

  “Papa, my mother has just told me you have given your approval for Lydia to go with Mrs. Forster when the regiment leaves for Brighton.”

  “Yes, you are correct,” he said, putting his book down and looking at Elizabeth over the rims of his glasses.

  “I think you are making a mistake—a very bad one. Lydia is far too young, too wild, and too unrestrained to be beyond the authority of her family.”

  “I agree with your description, Lizzy, but it is precisely the reason I consented when Mrs. Bennet came to me with this request. I suppose you know your mother looks on the excursion to Brighton with favor?”

  “I do, but I do not share her opinion. Allowing Lydia to go to Brighton will be the absolute end of any possibility of instilling common sense in her. She is already known by everyone for the impropriety of her behavior. You know it as well as I, Papa!”

  Mr. Bennet nodded but made no comment, so Elizabeth continued. “What possible advantage could she gain from the friendship of such a young woman as Mrs. Forster, who is almost as imprudent and undisciplined as Lydia? And Mrs. Forster would be the very person you are depending on to be Lydia’s guardian while away from home. What can restrain Lydia’s actions in the environs of Brighton where the temptations must be immeasurably greater than here at home?”

  Her father listened attentively as Elizabeth finished her arguments before he spoke. “Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some public place or other. And we can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present circumstances.”

  Elizabeth looked at him in astonishment, unable to believe an expression of such selfishness. But she determined to make one last attempt to make him see reason.

  “Can you not imagine the very great disadvantages to us all that are certain to arise from the public notice of Lydia’s unguarded and imprudent manner?” she said earnestly. “In fact, do you not know of the detriments that have already arisen from it? If you knew, I cannot but believe you would judge differently in the affair.”

  “Already arisen?” repeated Mr. Bennet with his usual wryness. “What, has she frightened away some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down—”

  He would have said more, for the words were on the very tip of his tongue, but he suddenly stopped as Elizabeth went pale as a sheet with anger, an expression of the most fierce and intemperate vehemence on her face.

  Mr. Bennet usually enjoyed sparring with Elizabeth. She was the only one in the house with the wit to understand his allusions and quips. But on this occasion, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth at the reaction he had invoked.

  “Poor little Lizzy?” Elizabeth hissed, her eyes ablaze with a rage he had never imagined to see from his favorite daughter.

  “You dare to mock my suggestions and declare I could not have been harmed by Lydia’s follies, dear father?” she said with fierce indignation, advancing to the front of his desk and staring down at him. “Have you not often tried to discuss the general malaise that has come over me and infected my mind with the most extreme melancholies and despairs? Can it be you have forgotten that when you call me poor little Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth’s fiery anger seemed to emanate from her whole body as she continued. “But then, why should I be surprised you would say such a thing? It is not only Lydia but all my family, save only Jane, who have been the instruments of holding all of us up to the general ridicule and contempt of others!”

  She closed her eyes and visibly struggled to gain control of her temper, and her voice became calmer as she went on. “But I had originally intended to speak only of general evils rather than specific and personal ones. In that line, Papa, our family’s importance, as well as our respectability, must be adversely affected by the wild volatility, the assurance, and the disdain of all restraint, which marks Lydia’s character and which she displays so freely in public. This may possibly be the final opportunity of checking her exuberant spirits and teaching her that her present pursuits are not the business of her life.”

  She paused a moment before going on. “And the task of instilling a measure of restraint in your daughter is yours. If you will not check her, no one will, and her character will be fixed. At sixteen, she will be the most determined flirt who ever made herself and her family ridiculous! And she will ensnare Kitty in her wild improprieties, and both of them will soon be equally vain, ignora
nt, idle, and completely uncontrolled! Do you not understand that both of them will be censured and despised wherever they are known, and you, my mother, and I will also be involved in their disgrace?”

  Though taken aback, Mr. Bennet saw Elizabeth’s whole heart was in what she said. And since she appeared to have calmed down, he tried to take her hand in affection, only to have her jerk it away.

  “Do not imagine you can pour oil on these troubled waters, Papa!” she said savagely, her anger so extreme that she spoke instantly, her voice raised in her anger and with none of her usual constraint and forethought. “I have had to stand aside while my mother became the very personification of discourtesy and bad manners wherever she went. The way she so blatantly shoved Jane at Mr. Bingley made our whole family a subject of ridicule! I heard the suppressed laughter and whispers you either did not hear or chose to ignore. You were there at Netherfield when she boasted of her two daughters who were soon to be married to rich men! If such ill-mannered and boorish vulgarities were not enough, you sat at her side as she said them and did nothing! Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy heard everything my mother said and formed a perfect opinion of our family!

  “So do as you please, dear father. I suppose you will choose to preserve your tranquility and your ease instead of performing your duty. But when disaster strikes because you let your youngest daughter go to Brighton with nothing to restrain her other than her particular friend, do not say you were unwarned! Lydia will not be safe in such a situation! I have noted the looks she receives from many of the officers, especially Mr. Wickham, and they do not gaze on her as a possible wife! They have baser emotions in their minds!”

  With this final rejoinder, Elizabeth stormed out of the room, leaving behind a father who was, at the same time, shocked—even angered—by her effrontery but also mortified by the truth he could not evade.

  Above everything, Elizabeth had revealed that the improper manners and wildness of her family had aggrieved her and had done so in a particular and a severe way. She had also divulged, probably unconsciously, that the source of her hurt involved Mr. Darcy, whom her mother still hoped would return and renew his attentions.

  He had been completely ignorant as to the source of Elizabeth’s despondency until this moment. Mr. Bennet squirmed as he remembered his wife’s gleeful boast of having one daughter settled at Netherfield and the other in Derbyshire. He remembered his amusement at his wife’s silliness, but he had never even glanced at Elizabeth or Mr. Darcy. And he had never associated the “Derbyshire” comment with Mr. Darcy and his daughter.

  Surely, if Elizabeth had heard his wife’s boasts, then Darcy had also. He felt shame as he remembered that Darcy had appeared to be enjoying himself earlier in the evening but had left the neighborhood afterwards and not returned.

  Oh, my poor girl! he thought wretchedly. What have we done to you? What have I done to you? Darcy never returned! How selfish I have been! But what am I to do now? What amends can I make?

  It took several hours of thought before Mr. Bennet finally settled on two answers. First, he could do nothing to repair what had been done to Elizabeth. Sadly, it was too late, and he only hoped she could rise above her heartache one day and forgive him even if he could not make amends.

  But second, he could avoid repeating his mistake. He rang for a servant and asked to have Lydia come to him.

  Had Elizabeth Bennet remained downstairs, she might have found a measure of relief at her father having listened to her at long last; it was perfectly exemplified by Lydia’s wails on being informed she would not be going to Brighton.

  ***

  As the end of the regiment’s stay in Meryton approached, all the young ladies in the neighborhood were in a mood of universal despair. Elizabeth and Charlotte alone seemed immune from the infection and were able to eat, drink, and sleep with a semblance of normalcy. Both Lydia and Kitty often reproved her for her lack of sympathy for their plight though Lydia had not an inkling Elizabeth had talked to her father about the matter. Instead, Lydia blamed her father alone, unable to comprehend how he could be so hardhearted.

  In Lydia’s imagination, a visit to Brighton would have involved every possibility of earthly happiness with the streets of the gay seaside town full of officers and herself the object of their attention. She lamented she would never see the glories of the camp with its scores of white tents stretching into the distance and all the roads of the camp filled with young and lively officers clad exclusively in scarlet. She almost wept at a vision of herself seated beneath one of those tents, tenderly flirting with at least six officers at once. And now it would never be, all because of her flint-hearted father!

  Her mother’s lamentations nearly matched her own since she had so looked forward to shopping for new clothes for her daughter. Had either she or Lydia known of Elizabeth’s part in their shared woe, their anger would have been fierce.

  Her sisters’ cries of grief continued without ceasing, even when many of the officers dined at Longbourn on the evening before the regiment was to depart. Lydia and Mrs. Forster were beside themselves with despair at the possibility they would never see each other again. And Kitty could not contain her tears, certain she could not go on after the next morning.

  For her part, Elizabeth remained composed at the keening of her sisters, secure in the knowledge that Lydia would be safe, for she still did not like the way Mr. Wickham so often looked at her youngest sister.

  Wickham also came to speak with her and went so far as to ask about Mr. Darcy. But Elizabeth had been prepared for just such a question. She was well aware Wickham had been Darcy’s boyhood companion and the favorite of the elder Mr. Darcy, so she was able to respond with a careless shrug, saying only that she had no news of him since the previous autumn.

  Wickham responded that such information corresponded with what he had heard. “Of course, you know he is maligned among most of the neighborhood as well as in Meryton. Naturally, they did not know him as you did,” he said with seeming casualness.

  But Elizabeth knew Wickham and Darcy had had a falling out since their boyhood, so she gave another negligent shrug. “A few dances does not give one much of a chance to know another person very intimately. And Mr. Darcy does often display a reserve that makes him difficult to like.”

  “Yes, his manners are not nearly those of his friend Mr. Bingley.”

  “True,” Elizabeth said with a calm nod. “But after talking with Jane, I think Mr. Darcy improves on acquaintance.”

  “Indeed!” cried Wickham with a look that gratified her, owing to his exasperation at not being able to defame his boyhood friend. “Does your sister say it is in address or civility that he improves? For I dare not hope he is improved in essentials.”

  “Oh no, Mr. Wickham! In essentials, I believe Mr. Darcy is very much what he ever was.”

  Wickham was clearly taken aback by these words, not knowing how to interpret them, and he looked uncomfortable and anxious.

  “I suppose he may have been absent due to preparing for his match with Miss de Bourgh, which is much favored by his aunt, of whom Mr. Darcy stands much in awe.”

  Elizabeth answered only with a slight inclination of her head. She saw Wickham still wanted to engage her on the subject of his grievances, but she had no humor to indulge him previously and had none at all at the present time. So, seeing there was nothing to be gained, Wickham departed after a graceful bow and moved on to speak with others.

  She saw him conversing and laughing during the rest of the evening, but he made no further attempts to speak with her. They parted at last with mutual civility and, almost certainly, a desire on both their parts never to meet again.

  When the party ended, Lydia and Mrs. Forster gave each other one last, tearful embrace before the latter left with her husband for Meryton from whence they and the rest of the regiment were to set out early the next morning. Kitty and her
mother also shed many a tear at the separation, and the three of them watched the last of the party depart from the front door.

  Elizabeth saw none of this, having sought the sanctuary of her room despite the unhappy certainty that Wickham’s talk of Darcy was going to plague her when she retired.

  Chapter 21

  It is best to love wisely, no doubt; but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.

  — William Thackeray,

  British novelist and author

  Monday, June 15, 1812

  Netherfield, Hertfordshire

  “I shall miss you dreadfully, Jane,” Elizabeth said, sitting in her sister’s bedroom while Jane packed the last of her clothes, “but I cannot blame Mr. Bingley for buying an estate of his own. I know my mother must have been a terrible trial to both of you with her incessant visits. I tried to tell her so, but she simply would not listen. I cannot remember a single day when she did not visit at least once.”

  As was her nature, Jane was averse to criticizing anyone, so she merely shrugged. “I know she was only trying to help me manage this large house, but I believe she affected Bingley more than me. It is not like him to complain, but I am sure it explains his determination to find a suitable estate of his own.”

  “It will be difficult to visit you so far away as Derbyshire. I cannot make such a long journey alone, and my father is unlikely to escort me very often.”

  “It will be painful not to see you regularly, but Bingley is overjoyed to have found a suitable place only thirty miles from Mr. Darcy’s home. From what he has said, Pemberley is a magnificent place, and the gardens are a marvel.”

  Seeing the change in Elizabeth’s expression, one that might have gone unremarked by anyone less cognizant of her sister’s unhappy moods, Jane stopped her packing and sat beside her sister, putting her arm around her shoulder.