Trying not to let her agitation show, for she had no basis to worry, Elizabeth led the way back to their uncle’s. She, Jane and Mary filed in, leaving cloaks, gloves and hats by the door. They found Uncle Phillips and Kitty waiting for them in the front parlor.
“There you all are,” Uncle Phillips said, his tone credibly pleasant and manner not exactly easy, but not tense.
“You wished to see us, Uncle?” Elizabeth prompted as she took the chair nearest the door.
He and Kitty were already seated. Kitty still worked on her mending. Jane and Mary took the short sofa. All of them together quite filled the sunny little room.
“Yes.” Uncle Phillips looked to each of them in turn. “It’s time to pack. Jane, Elizabeth and Kitty, we leave for London in two hours.”
“Leave?” Elizabeth repeated, stunned.
“London?” Kitty clapped her hands, looking excited.
Jane glanced from face to face, frowning.
“But, whatever for?” Mary asked, sounding forlorn.
Mr. Phillips stood up. “We will have plenty of time to talk about that on the journey, and Jonathan will explain to you, Mary. We will likely remain in London for several months, so bear that in mind while you pack.”
“Months?” Mary exclaimed.
“But this is so sudden,” Jane murmured. She reached out and clasped Mary’s hand.
Elizabeth shook her head. What could possibly be prompting the trip? She knew better than to ask. If Uncle Phillips said they would discuss the reason while they journeyed, then that was when he would discuss it.
“Yes, it is a bit sudden, but not unexpected.” Uncle Phillips made a shooing gesture. “Hurry along now. Mary, if you would stay and help where needed, that would be a boon.”
Mary nodded, looking dazed. They all came slowly to their feet. Uncle Phillips gestured again. Kitty and Jane dutifully turned and hurried from the room.
“Mary, I’m sorry to pull your sisters away from you so soon after your wedding,” Uncle Phillips said. “I discussed the possibility of doing this with your husband. Just tell him that Colonel Forster visited me today and he will understand. Now, go help your sisters pack. That means you as well, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth took Mary by the arm. “Come, you can help Jane. I’ll make sure Kitty packs something sensible.”
Mary nodded again and permitted Elizabeth to lead her away. Behind them, Uncle Phillips hurried off to his own room. Even knowing his ways, it was all Elizabeth could do not to race after him and demand an explanation.
***
Just as Uncle Phillips said, a little more than two hours later found the four of them ensconced in their carriage, on their way to London. The bustle and familiar scenery behind them, Elizabeth turned from the window to regard their uncle expectantly. Seeming to feel her scrutiny from where she rode backward beside Kitty, he looked up from the book he was reading.
“Well?” Elizabeth prompted.
Uncle Phillips offered a brief smile before his expression turned serious. “We are fleeing.”
“Fleeing?” Elizabeth repeated her eyebrows shooting up. “From?”
Uncle Phillips sighed. “I’m afraid your new brother by law, Mr. Wickham, has amassed debts with essentially every merchant in Meryton. Moreover, I can only assume from Colonel Forster’s reaction, he also has a considerable pile of IOUs.”
Elizabeth stared at him. “Debts serious enough for us to flee them?”
Uncle Phillips nodded. “I am putting some money from Lydia’s share of income toward paying back the merchants. That will take time, but they’re all receiving small payments and are satisfied. They are not the issue.”
“You are paying the debts?” Elizabeth asked sharply. “Oughtn’t Mr. Wickham be paying them?”
“He should, but he will not.” Uncle Phillips voice was quiet. “That is one of the reasons he was so quick to leave for London.”
Elizabeth took a moment to absorb that.
“You mean, Mr. Wickham is running out on his debts?” Kitty ventured.
“He is,” Uncle Phillips confirmed. “He left me a note saying he and Lydia will not be returning from London, and that he’s resigned his commission.”
Elizabeth gaped at her uncle. Now Lydia’s new husband was without wages. The militia wages were small, but that was some money coming in to supplement the money Lydia would have.
Seated beside their uncle, Jane looked baffled, as if unable to credit his words.
“And the IOUs?” Elizabeth asked, recalling their uncle saying Colonel Forster had come to see him. An IOU was a debt of honor. Not binding in any lawful sense, but a gentleman was only as good as his word.
“I will not be paying Mr. Wickham’s IOUs,” Uncle Phillips said.
“And neither will he?” Elizabeth pressed, incredulous.
“And neither will he,” Uncle Phillips stated flatly.
“Oh dear,” Jane breathed.
Oh dear indeed, Elizabeth thought. “Why, until the officers leave, we won’t be welcome anywhere. He’s cut us out of Meryton society.”
“Oh, how could he,” Kitty cried.
Elizabeth shook her head, having no answer. She turned back to their uncle. “Did you know about his debts when you granted him Lydia’s hand?”
“I did.” Uncle Phillips clamped his mouth closed over the two words. He flipped open his book.
“Uncle,” Elizabeth pressed. He’s always told them the truth before, even when he’d revealed that their aunt was likely not simply sick, but dying.
Uncle Phillips sighed. He made a show of squaring his bookmark with the book’s spine, then closed the thick volume before looking up. “Yes, I knew, but only just. I’d made inquiries the morning before he came to see me to discuss terms.”
“If you knew, why did you agree?” Jane asked, innocently curious.
Elizabeth saw their uncle flinch from the question. He squared the book he held in his lap. He cast a quick look about, as if someone might lurk hidden in the carriage to overhear. Elizabeth felt her own nerves tighten at his unease.
“Mr. Wickham had already compromised your sister,” Uncle Phillips said.
“What?” It took Elizabeth a moment to realize that gasped question had issued from her mouth.
Uncle Phillips tugged at the unfashionably simple knot tying his cravat. “The evening before. I woke and heard them, but not soon enough to intervene.”
Jane’s eyes were like saucers.
Beside Elizabeth, Kitty’s mouth hung open.
Elizabeth closed her own. “Heard them?” she ventured in a faint voice.
“Her room is above mine,” Uncle Phillips stated.
Kitty fell into fit of coughing, uncommon for her in the cool winter months.
Jane went red.
Anger heated Elizabeth’s veins. “You mean he well and truly compromised her.”
She hadn’t made it a question, but her uncle nodded, looking worn.
“That monster,” Elizabeth muttered. “And that little fool. What was she thinking? She’s lucky he’s not only, obviously, a fortune hunter, but also apparently a desperate one. He could have left her compromised and with child.”
“Now, Lizzy, I’m sure they are very much in love,” Jane said, but her voice was weak and her cheeks crimson. “I’m certain money had nothing to do with--”
“Obviously it had everything to do with their marriage, or Mr. Wickham wouldn’t have behaved so abominably,” Elizabeth snapped.
Kitty touched her arm. “Lizzy, it isn’t Jane’s fault.”
Elizabeth took in Jane’s stricken expression. “I know. I’m sorry. Jane, I really am sorry.”
Jane offered a tentative smile.
“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine, for not realizing sooner what Mr. Wickham was after when he befriended you girls,” Uncle Phillips said. “Now, please, may we speak on something else?”
They all nodded, but no one spoke. The carriage fell into silence. Uncle Phillips cracke
d back open his book. Jane turned to look out the window. A glance showed Kitty lost in her own thoughts as well.
For her part, Elizabeth first battled down her shame at speaking harshly to Jane. She then turned to examining the source of her anger, finding it obvious enough. She did not care to discover she’d been duped. Just as their uncle, Elizabeth hadn’t questioned Mr. Wickham’s marked attention to them. She’d never stopped to consider that with the sale of Longbourn, they’d become, for their small town, something in the way of heiresses. That made the attentions of many gentlemen suspect.
And the attention of others had already proven mercurial, she reflected, her gaze returning to Jane. Her older sister appeared serene once more, her three-quarters profile lovely as she watched the passing scenery. It occurred to Elizabeth to wonder if Jane held any expectations of meeting a certain someone in London and saddened her to realize she was no longer deep enough in her sister’s council to know.
A slightly bitter smile turned up Elizabeth’s lips. On the one hand, they were apparently to be plagued by men who wished to seduce them for their money. On the other, the source of that money and their mother’s upbringing warned a different breed of gentlemen away. Gentlemen like Jane’s Mr. Bingley.
From the start, they’d all thought of him that way, the young gentleman who’d rented Netherfield Park, a large estate outside of Meryton. He’d been charming, and well-mannered, and obviously smitten with Jane. Not so obvious, but equally true, was that Jane was smitten with him. Elizabeth had thought everything was going well between them. Even his snobbish sisters seemed pleased with Jane.
Then, somehow, word had gotten out that the Bennet sisters’ fortune was made through the sale of their family estate. That financial transaction, coupled with their late mother’s family being in trade, tarnished them. They were still good enough for fortune-hunting officers, but no longer of interest to a man like Mr. Bingley.
Jane frowned, and Elizabeth wondered if her sister thought on him even now. They sped toward London, after all. That was where Mr. Bingley had retired to, along with the remainder of his party.
Not that Elizabeth blamed Mr. Bingley. Oh, for being fickle, yes, but not for leaving. If she had any judgment, which admittedly the revelations about Wickham made suspect, she would swear Mr. Bingley had been in love with Jane. No, his departure undoubtedly came at the urging of the most odious member of his party. Not his snobbish sisters. Not his bumbling brother-in-law.
His friend, Mr. Darcy. A reticent, lonely gentleman who trailed Mr. Bingley about, glowering jealously at anyone who occupied too much of Bingley’s time. That someone of Mr. Darcy’s reputed wealth couldn’t amass his own entourage was telling. Instead, he followed Mr. Bingley’s family from place to place, playing attendance by dancing only with Bingley’s sisters. Even a fortune as vast as Mr. Darcy’s couldn’t buy him friends, which bespoke of the depths of his disagreeability.
The carriage lurched over a rut. Elizabeth frowned down at her hands. That had been one of her most enjoyable points of conversation with Mr. Wickham, gossip over Mr. Darcy. They’d both agreed the man was unbearable. Elizabeth knew this from associating with him at Netherfield, and from his comments about her at his first assembly in Hertfordshire, where he’d deemed her not handsome enough to dance with.
Mr. Wickham had provided additional evidence in the form of anecdote. He’d said Mr. Darcy, known to him since childhood, had denied him the living he was owed upon the death of Mr. Darcy’s father. Elizabeth had happily lapped up this confirmation of her impression of Mr. Darcy. She’d even confronted him with the accusation at a dance and not been refuted.
Her frown deepened. As much as she’d taken a dislike to Mr. Darcy and blamed him for Jane’s sorrow upon losing Mr. Bingley, she couldn’t help but revisit the idea that he’d all but stolen a living from Mr. Wickham. After all, she now knew Mr. Wickham to be unreliable and to have no honor.
She shook her head. What did it matter? Even if Mr. Wickham had lied about the living, it didn’t change the fact that Mr. Darcy was disagreeable and withdrawn. That, of course, did not matter either. She was hardly likely to see the man again. He would never deign to traverse the circles she and her sisters would. Even though they were daughters of a gentleman and now had desirable dowries, they wouldn’t be invited into the upper echelons Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley walked.
“Where in London are we staying?” Jane asked, swiveling to look at their uncle.
Elizabeth wondered if her sister’s thoughts had traveled similar lines to her own.
“With the Gardiners,” Uncle Phillips replied, not looking up from his book.
“Aunt Gardiner’s brother and his family have moved out, then?” Elizabeth said, hoping that was the case.
Mrs. Gardiner’s brother and his family had been staying with the Gardiners when Mr. Bennet died. That was partially why Elizabeth and her sisters had ended up with the Phillips. The brother’s house had burned down, taking with it the business that supported his family. For all of them to stay with the Gardiners would be unbearably crowded.
Uncle Phillips glanced up. “Yes, two weeks ago. They finished rebuilding. Your Uncle Gardiner wrote that his brother-in-law has begun to recapture some of his business.”
“That’s very fortunate,” Elizabeth said, meaning both for their distant relations and themselves.
“Yes,” Uncle Phillips agreed, and returned his gaze to his book.
Across from Elizabeth, Jane let out a little sigh and turned back to the window. Elizabeth wondered if her sister had hoped they were staying somewhere on their own, perhaps spending a bit of coin to rent in a more fashionable district. After all, people like Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would never call on them at the Gardiners’ home.
Chapter Four
They arrived at the Gardiners’ in good time, the hour early enough that their Uncle Gardiner was still at work, and were shown into a cozy front parlor. The elegantly, if somewhat sparsely, appointed room was crowded with Elizabeth, Jane and Kitty, as well as their Uncle Phillips, Aunt Gardiner and young cousins, but not quite to the point of anyone needing to stand. Aunt Gardiner allowed her brood to remain long enough to greet their cousins and then ushered them back to their lessons. Once they were gone, she called for tea.
“You picked a fine day to make the trip,” she said to Mr. Phillips as they waited. “How were the roads?”
“Fine, passing fine,” Uncle Phillips said.
Elizabeth, who sat beside Kitty on a stiff sofa, looked back and forth between the two. “You were expecting us, Aunt Gardiner?” she ventured, in view of her aunt’s complete calm.
“Yes, dear. Mr. Phillips wrote to Mr. Gardiner.”
Elizabeth recalled her uncle telling Mary that Mr. Whitestone also knew of his plan. She turned to her Uncle Phillips with narrowed eyes. “How long have you been plotting to bring us here?” And why hadn’t he informed them of his decision?
“For some time now, and I do apologize for not telling you of the possibility sooner,” Uncle Phillips said, answering the question Elizabeth hadn’t been so rude as to voice. “I had some vague hope my preparations would go unneeded, and I didn’t want any word of my plan to get out.” He flicked his gaze to Kitty.
Elizabeth didn’t find that fair. Kitty had improved greatly over the past two years. It wasn’t as if she was Lydia.
“I still don’t understand why we’ve come,” Kitty said. “I think people would forgive us for Mr. Wickham’s ways. Most of them have known us forever, after all.” She smiled. “I don’t mind one bit, though. I’ve been longing to visit London and we might meet some few people we know here.”
Kitty didn’t so much as look at Jane. Seated beside their aunt on the sofa across from Elizabeth and Kitty, Jane blushed anyhow.
“We’re here because I knew we would become unpopular with the militia as a result of Mr. Wickham’s debts, particularly since I’ve arranged for payment of his legal debts, that is, his debts to the shopkeepers in
Meryton,” Uncle Phillips said, repeating the reason he’d given in the carriage.
“Surely, our neighbors would understand?” Jane ventured. “They wouldn’t turn on us.”
“It’s not our fault Mr. Wickham ran out on his obligations,” Kitty added.
“I daresay people won’t see it that way, dear,” Mrs. Gardiner said sadly.
Uncle Phillips shook his head. “I didn’t want to have people take sides. That could do irreparable harm.”
Elizabeth agreed with their uncle. “They still might,” she said, and watched Jane shake her head sadly. Elizabeth knew her sister found her too cynical. She, in turn, found Jane’s trust in people almost childlike.
Uncle Phillips gave a sly grin. “I told Mr. Ford my plan, and he is going to arrange for the various merchants in Meryton to denounce me loudly to the militia.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Mr. Ford ran the most successful store in Meryton and was widely respected in the community. He was also a good friend of their Uncle Phillips and the perfect choice. She was impressed. She’d no idea their uncle was so crafty.
“Was that truly necessary, Mr. Phillips?” their Aunt Gardiner asked. “That will ruin your reputation. Think of the girls.”
“I don’t want the people who support me to lose business,” Uncle Phillips said. “The militia will leave in May, never to return. Then it will be revealed that the denunciation was planned to keep everyone happy. A few people may resent not being in on it, but we’ll never escape this completely unscathed. Mr. Ford and Mr. Whitestone will tell the people they trust the truth now. Anyone who is ardently defending me will probably be someone who can be trusted to keep a secret.”
“But why wait for Colonel Forster’s visit?” Jane asked. She looked about the room, as if trying to assess if she was the only one who found their uncle’s strategy incomprehensible.
“To give him a victory,” Mr. Phillips replied.
“Military men like victories,” Elizabeth added.
Hypothetically Married Page 3
