by P. O. Dixon
“It is a long, complicated story – none of which matters now, except that I believe my cousin is on the verge of making the biggest mistake of her life.”
“What exactly is she about to do, if you do not mind my asking?”
“She wrote to flaunt her secret engagement to Mr. Wickham. She means to elope with him to Gretna Green. You and I both know what this means. Mr. Wickham must have learned about Phoebe’s dowry, which is by no means insignificant. He intends to get his hands on her fortune.
“You know him too well to doubt the rest. His motives are completely mercenary. He does not love my cousin. I dare say he does not even care for her.”
“This is grave indeed,” said Darcy
“I believe I must return to Hertfordshire at once to speak with my uncle before it is too late.”
“Of course. I am happy to offer my carriage if you would like – anything to assist you in your speedy return to Hertfordshire during this time of need.”
“Sir, you are too generous. I do not believe that I can prevail upon you in such a manner.”
The irony of her biting words of refusal struck her with force: You are the last man in the world whom I can be prevailed on to marry.
His face solemn, Mr. Darcy said, “You must allow me to do this for you. It is the least I can do. If I may, I would like to see you safely to your relations’ home now, at which time I must make plans to leave town as well. Shall we proceed?”
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth set off in a hurried pace with scarcely a word between them. And although the two of them were walking side by side, never before had Elizabeth felt they were so far apart. The former in earnest meditation, his brow was contracted and his air gloomy, and the latter, upon observing this, was instantly aware of what it must mean. Her power was sinking as it inevitably must sink under such a proof of family frailties and caprice.
Silent recollection of what her history had been with her walking companion could not help but intrude, adding further to her distress: his going out of his way to show kindness to her during her mishap on the way to Netherfield Park to see Jane, his preference for her, however guarded, whenever they were in company at Netherfield, his declaration of his love for her in Kent, his willingness to make amends for his part in separating Jane and Bingley, and not the least of it all, his letter which finally illustrated his true character.
Never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved him, as now, when all love must be in vain.
Chapter 22
a great change in sentiments
Bewilderment marred the elder Bennet daughter’s angelic countenance as she listened to Elizabeth’s speech. “I do not understand,” Jane cried, once Elizabeth had finished telling her about Phoebe’s fool-hearted scheme to elope with Mr. Wickham.
“I thought you always liked Mr. Wickham. Why do you find it so terribly distressing that our cousin Phoebe might like him too—dare I say love him?”
“Oh, Jane! There is so much more that has unfolded over the past weeks that has led to Phoebe’s rash decision. Things I had not intended on sharing with anyone. Only Phoebe found out, and she is behaving recklessly because of it.”
“Lizzy, what has happened?”
“You know how Phoebe fancied herself in love with Mr. Darcy.”
“What does Mr. Darcy have to do with any of this?”
“He—” Elizabeth started, “Oh, Jane! Mr. Darcy proposed to me when we were in Kent.”
Jane gasped. “Are you—are you and Mr. Darcy engaged?”
“No—no, we are not. You see, I refused him for reasons I care not to discuss, owing to their rather sensitive nature. However, it appears that Phoebe heard our entire discussion, at least the worst part of it, which I might add was most of it, for some very unpleasant words were exchanged between us. Phoebe thought my reason for rejecting Mr. Darcy’s hand was because of my feelings for Mr. Wickham. She means to seek revenge against me for thwarting her chances with Mr. Darcy by thwarting my supposed chances with Mr. Wickham.”
“Lizzy, I hardly know what to say. Our cousin has always been rather high spirited in nature—dare I even say impetuous. Still, I do not know why you are so distressed about the possibility of Phoebe marrying him. Is he not an honorable man, an officer, as well as a true gentleman? Surely you are not jealous of our cousin, or are you?” Jane gasped. “Lizzy! Are you in love with Mr. Wickham?”
“Heaven forbid. I believe one might safely say I detest the man.”
“That is certainly a great change in sentiments towards someone who was clearly a favorite of yours for so long as he was. What has happened to alter your good opinion?”
“Suffice it to say, that I learned a great deal more about Mr. Wickham’s true character while I was in Kent. I am not at liberty to go into the details, but everything I thought I knew about Mr. Wickham has been shown to be false. He is no gentleman. He is a scoundrel, one who would risk the reputation of innocent young girls solely for the purpose of gaining their fortunes.
“I have no doubt that Phoebe’s dowry is Wickham’s sole motivation in persuading her to elope with him. I know for a fact that our cousin would not be the first young lady to be subjected to such a scheme by Mr. Wickham’s contrivances. He does not love her, and I am convinced she does not love him.
“Foolish, foolish girl. That is why it is so important that I speak with Uncle Phillips as soon as can be, in the hope that he can put a stop to this madness before it is too late.”
“I agree, and I am grateful to Mr. Darcy for making his carriage available to you, for we have not a moment to delay,” said Jane, now in possession of a better appreciation of her sister’s fears.
Elizabeth reached out her hand to Jane. “I regret having to tear you and Mr. Bingley apart in this manner, especially since the two of you seem well on your way to falling madly in love again.”
“Lizzy, I never have been as persuaded of Mr. Bingley’s affection for me as you have. These past days in company with him have been a pleasure, but I am not so convinced it can or ever will be more than that. Perhaps too much time has passed.”
“Nonsense, Jane. He loves you—I only pray that what has happened does not prevent him from declaring himself to you.”
“And what of you and Mr. Darcy? I know you said you rejected his proposal, and I will not pressure you into disclosing the reason for your refusal, but surely he must care for you as much as ever, else he would not have taken it upon himself to arrange our speedy return to Hertfordshire for the sake of speaking with our uncle.”
“I do not know precisely why he came to our aid, but I rather suspect he feels some remorse in not having exposed Wickham when he had the chance to do so in Hertfordshire, for had he, then none of this would have happened. I would not have so willingly bestowed Mr. Wickham my good opinion, and by extension, my highest commendations, and Phoebe would not have thrown herself in his path with the intention of wounding me.”
Jane shrugged. “I do not know, Lizzy. A part of me suspects Mr. Darcy’s intentions are more generous than that.”
“Jane, what are you saying? Surely you do not believe Mr. Darcy is still in love with me and that is why he has been so helpful.”
“Do you not?”
It was now Elizabeth’s turn to shrug. “Even if a part of me suspected such a thing, surely it no longer signifies. If you could but have seen his face when we parted. He looked as though he could not wait to get away from me, and why would he not in the face of my family’s deficits? In so many ways, Phoebe is more like a sister to me than even Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. Anyone who knows either of us is very aware there is no denying our connection, nor would I ever wish it.”
I fear whatever my wishes might be, Mr. Darcy is lost to me forever.
Chapter 23
all the usual civilities
Though saddened by the thought of what more time in London might have meant for her sister Jane as well as herself, Elizabeth was not designed for ill humor. Upon her arrival h
ome, she dared not delay visiting her Meryton relations for fear of being too late to save her cousin from her own impetuous self. There she sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, her letter inside her pocket if needed as corroboration of her story.
“No, we have not heard from our dear Phoebe for quite a while,” Mrs. Phillips replied when Elizabeth broached the topic after all the usual civilities were exchanged. “But you know how your cousin is. She never has any time to write. She is always so happily engaged in meeting new people. I understand that Brighton can be quite diverting at this particular time of the year, especially with the militia being there. You are aware that the militia went to Brighton when they left Meryton, are you not?”
Elizabeth said, “Oh, yes, of course, I am very aware. That is precisely the reason for my being here. Dear Uncle and Aunt Phillips, prepare yourself for something dreadful, for you see, I have recently received a letter from my cousin Phoebe. I am quite devastated by what she has to say, and when you hear it for yourselves, I am sure you will be equally devastated.”
“Pray, Lizzy, how dare you keep us in suspense? What does our dear Phoebe have to say?”
Elizabeth asked that both of her relations take a seat, although she chose to pace the floor as, line by line, she recounted to her aunt and uncle what Phoebe had said—that she had gotten herself engaged to be married to Mr. Wickham.
What happened next stunned Elizabeth. To say that Mrs. Phillips was ecstatic would be a great understatement.
While it was true that it was every young woman’s greatest wish to be happily married, it was also true that the young lady ought to be sensible in her choice when she was able to be so, and certainly Phoebe, with all of her manifold attractions as well as her handsome dowry was more than capable of attracting a gentleman of consequence.
How her mother could be happy about the prospect of her only child finding herself engaged to be married to a man of Mr. Wickham’s low character, Elizabeth could not fathom.
Of course, my aunt and uncle do not know him as I do. Dare I confide in them all that Mr. Darcy told me in the hopes that they might be persuaded to prevent their daughter from making what would undoubtedly prove to be the biggest mistake of her life? I feel I must say something.
“I do not believe that this course of action that Phoebe has chartered for herself is a wise one,” Elizabeth heard herself say. Steeling her voice with resolve, she continued, “I know with certainty that she does not truly care for Mr. Wickham—not in the way that a young lady ought to care for the man with whom she plans to spend the rest of her life.”
“How do you know, Miss Lizzy?” Mrs. Phillips asked. “Unless I am mistaken, the last time I saw you, you were more than a little enamored by Mr. Wickham’s charms. In fact, I believe with all my heart had his head not been turned by Miss King, then surely you would not have surrendered him so easily as you did. Who is to say that you are not simply jealous of my Phoebe?”
“It is interesting that you mentioned Miss King, for I am sure you are more than aware that she was sent to Liverpool by her family as a means of protecting her. I have it on good authority, you see, that Mr. Wickham is mercenary. Not only did he attempt to gain Miss King’s fortune in return for the promise of future felicity, the likes of which he is quite incapable, but he has done it before to another wealthy young lady.
“No doubt, Phoebe’s dowry of ten thousand pounds is his inducement once again.” She looked at her uncle intently. “That is why I have come to you. I implore you to do what you can to put a stop to this. Please go to Brighton or, at the very least, notify your relations in Brighton of Mr. Wickham’s bad reputation, so that they might exercise whatever measures are necessary to protect Phoebe.”
Elizabeth talked on in this way until finally, she began to see that despite her attempts to reason with her aunt, who behaved as ridiculously as a mother with a single daughter in want of a husband might be expected to conduct herself, she believed that she had reasoned successfully with Mr. Phillips. Walking with her to the door, her uncle gave her every assurance that he had heard what she said and that her efforts in coming to him had not been in vain.
This was enough said for Elizabeth to leave her relations’ house with some sense of comfort that she had done all she could to help Phoebe escape the unhappy fate she had charted for herself. The rest was in the hands of others who were far more powerful than she.
I only hope that whatever is to be done to save my cousin is done swiftly. And although I know Phoebe may likely despise me for my part in the scheme, I truly believe that someday she will thank me.
Chapter 24
The Biggest Mistake
Though it had taken a while, Mrs. Bennet had finally come to terms with the fact that Mr. Bingley might never propose to her dear Jane, having learned from her sister Mrs. Gardiner that the young man had called upon Jane in Cheapside at least two times before Jane’s abrupt leave-taking of London to return to Longbourn.
Mrs. Bennet had also learned that Mr. Darcy had accompanied his friend on both occasions. She could only attribute it to the fact that the haughty man had always taken such prodigious care of Mr. Bingley and in coming with him to Cheapside, this was no different. Not once did she consider that Mr. Darcy may have had another purpose in accompanying his friend. Why would she? Mrs. Bennet never really liked Mr. Darcy, and she had no reason to suppose that a man of his proud nature would be interested in either of her daughters, especially Elizabeth.
If Elizabeth could take but one small consolation in seeing a normal routine settling over their lives, it was that her cousin Phoebe had returned home from Brighton, a single woman. For whatever reason, her cousin was now safe from Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth suspected rather than knew that she had her uncle Mr. Phillips to thank for saving Phoebe from the gentleman, but she could have no real way of knowing, for the entire matter had been settled in such a hushed-up manner. Other than Elizabeth, Jane, Mr. Phillips and Mrs. Phillips, no one in the neighborhood ever knew that Phoebe had fancied herself engaged to the officer. Otherwise, the matter could not possibly have been settled so quietly and so expeditiously as it had been.
Phoebe, of course, knew, and she knew that Elizabeth knew. When the two cousins were together on that particular day with no one else about to hear what they were discussing, Phoebe said, “I suppose you are wondering why I did not go through with the marriage to your Mr. Wickham?”
Elizabeth said, “My Mr. Wickham? I believe you are the one who wrote to me boasting of your engagement, did you not?”
“I did indeed, and as you might as well know, I never truly intended to go so far as to marry him. I simply meant to make it impossible that the two of you might ever enjoy the privilege.”
Crossing one arm over the other, Elizabeth declared, “Then, I find myself in your debt, for Mr. Wickham is indeed the last man in the world to whom I would have ever wished to be married.”
Raising her hand to her chin, Phoebe commenced tapping with her finger. “Let me think; when have I heard you express those words before?” Feigning astonishment, she cried, “Oh! I remember. It was when you uttered those words or words of a similar vein to poor Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth tossed a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure that her cousin’s speech had not been overheard. “Pray lower your voice, Phoebe. I do not believe I shall ever forgive you for not making your presence known that evening at the parsonage and for your having listened purposely to a conversation that you knew was meant to be solely between two people.”
She placed her hand on her cousin’s arm. “That is beside the point now, for I must ask you to keep what you heard a secret. My mother will never forgive me should she learn the truth. Surely you cannot hate me so much as to wish such a fate as my mother’s endless vexation and consternation against me.”
Phoebe shrugged. “I do not hate you at all, even though I really should, for you knew that I had singled Mr. Darcy out as my future husband. It was wrong of you
to lead him on as you did only to break his heart.”
“Lead him on? Break his heart? I did neither of those things.” Forcing herself to remain calm, Elizabeth added, “I had no idea that Mr. Darcy was in love with me until he offered his hand in marriage.”
Hearing this, Phoebe rolled her eyes. Though she uttered not a single word, her silence spoke volumes.
Elizabeth exclaimed, “Oh! Why am I defending myself to you? You have always believed whatever you chose to believe, and there is no reason to suppose that will ever change.”
Indeed, in so many ways, Phoebe was very much like Elizabeth’s youngest sister, Lydia: spoiled and prone to act without thinking or caring about the consequences of such behavior. Of course, as the only child of an uncouth mother, what else might one expect?
Continuing her speech, Elizabeth said, “I only ask that you keep what you overheard a secret. You are my cousin. Do I ask too much?”
Phoebe scoffed. “Oh, of course, I shall keep your secret, even though I really should be extremely vexed at you. But none of that matters anymore. You stole Mr. Darcy away from me, and I stole Mr. Wickham from you. And now we are even.”
Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to scoff. “So long as you promise not to tell anyone what you heard or rather thought you heard, you may think whatever you wish. Saying that, I am only glad that you came to your senses before making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“La! I find it entirely ironic that you are overjoyed that I did not make what you consider might have been the biggest mistake of my life when you would have me keep your secret regarding your making the biggest mistake of your own life.”
“The biggest mistake of my life? What on earth do you mean? What mistake have I made?”
“Dearest Cousin, if you do not consider refusing the hand of a man of Mr. Darcy’s consequence, a man who declared his ardent love for you, the biggest mistake of your life, then I believe I never really knew you at all.”
