When you have read this, dearest Jane, you will understand the shock and sorrow we have all felt at this most unhappy turn of events. Our dear aunt is quite distraught, and it is only the intervention of Darcy and Fitzwilliam that has allowed for some solution to be found to the problem of Robert’s future. Fitzwilliam’s contacts with one of the largest trading houses in the East have afforded Robert an opportunity for a new career. I can understand how wretched our dear aunt must feel, she still regards Robert as her “little boy,” but Uncle Gardiner is convinced that it is the right course and will benefit Robert. Darcy is also certain that no good can come of Robert’s continued stay in London, where he may well fall into the clutches of his “friends” again . . .
Since he appears to have no taste for public life and has little to show for his legal studies, there are few alternatives open to him. We can only hope that for his sake and that of our dear Uncle and Aunt, it will all come right in the end.
Jane’s answer came sooner than expected.
She wrote:
Dearest Lizzie, This is but a short scrap of a note, but it comes with good news that I am sure will cheer you all. On receiving your letter about poor Robert, I read it out immediately to Bingley. Lizzie, would you believe that Mr Bingley’s cousin, Frank, is himself employed with the same trading firm to which Robert is now engaged? He has been out in Ceylon these last twelve months and is expected home on holiday next Christmas, when he expects to marry Miss Evelyn Forster, to whom he has been engaged, since before he went to the colonies.
Bingley is writing to him directly to advise of Robert’s planned arrival, and he has informed our Aunt and Uncle of this most fortunate circumstance. Robert will be assured of support and friendship, and I am sure this will go a long way to set our poor aunt’s heart at rest. I am, as you are, saddened by what has occurred, especially because of the consequences it has had for Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. It is difficult to think of young Robert’s causing so much heartache; he was such a shy little boy. Dearest Lizzie, do you not pray that our boys will be spared such misfortunes as they grow up? I do, each night and day, whenever I see Jonathan and William, for I cannot think how I would bear it, should such a thing befall one of them. But I must not run on so, or you will be angry with me. Dear Lizzie, it is only because I love them so, and I am sometimes afraid to be as happy as we are. I feel undeserving, and when such dreadful things happen as have befallen Robert, I fear that it may be my turn next, for why should I be spared? Forgive me, Lizzie, I know it is foolish, and you will surely scold me in your next letter. I am sure that I deserve it, too.
Your loving sister,
Jane.
Elizabeth shook her head and mused as she put away her letter. “Oh Jane, how little you know your own goodness, to think yourself undeserving of happiness. There is surely no one in the world I know, who deserves happiness more than you do, and I thank God that you are so richly blessed.” Elizabeth went upstairs promising herself that when next she saw her sister, she would spend some time convincing her that her joy was not undeserved. Jane above all others deserved every blessing. When Darcy found her in their bedroom, she showed him Jane’s letter and had the satisfaction of seeing a smile light up his face. Clearly, they were both agreed that it brought good news. Darcy was delighted with Jane’s news about Bingley’s Cousin Frank. “This will make it much easier for Mrs Gardiner to accept Robert’s departure for Ceylon. Your uncle intends to take the family to London to spend a few days with Robert, before he sails. Fitzwilliam and Caroline will be there for the Parliamentary sittings, so there should be quite a reunion. I’ve invited them to use the house at Portman Square.”
Elizabeth’s smile declared her gratitude. The suffering of her dear aunt over the last week had seemed to age her. Mrs Gardiner was a loving and conscientious mother, and she could not believe that one of her children could have fallen into such an error. She blamed herself. Elizabeth had suffered with her.
Darcy, sensing her feelings tried to comfort her. “I know you feel badly for your aunt and uncle, my dearest, I appreciate how deeply they have been hurt, but they are not to blame in this unfortunate matter.” Darcy’s voice was serious as he explained, “Young Robert, unlike Richard and Caroline, seems less equipped to deal with the deceptions of the world in which we live. He has erred, not because he is innately bad, but because he has been too ready to believe well of his friends. It is they who are culpable. Robert’s sins are errors of judgement. He is very young and will learn from this; I am sure of it.” Elizabeth knew how well her husband loved the Gardiners and hoped with all her heart that he was right, for their sake.
As for Jane’s comments regarding Jonathan and William, Darcy was much less serious as he dismissed her fears about them. “I know of no reason to doubt my belief in the good sense and integrity of Jonathan Bingley. His character is more formed than his father’s was at the same age, and believe me, my love, the reports I have of him are uniformly excellent. He is only seventeen but has the maturity of one many years his senior. Jane has no cause for concern.”
“And what of William? Have you a similar confidence in him?” Elizabeth asked, her voice betraying some anxiety about his response. She need not have been concerned. Darcy’s response had all the warmth and sincerity she could have wished for.
“My dearest Elizabeth, William is our son. Why would I not have confidence in him? He is fifteen, still a child, a sensitive and intelligent boy with much talent yet to be developed. His tutor, Mr Clarke, is well pleased with his work and Georgiana speaks very highly of his progress in music. He does not have Cassandra’s independence of mind yet; she is so like you, Lizzie; but I have no doubt he will learn from her example.” He knew her love for William was the very centre of her life. Darcy drew her close as if to confirm his part in that relationship. Their love had grown, ever since they had learned to share it without false pride or reservation, and flowed through to their children. Cassandra found them thus, when she came in to ask permission to accept an invitation to join the Gardiners on their expedition to London to farewell Robert. Permission was granted without question, and as she hugged them both, Cassy added, with a little grimace, “William was invited, too, but he would not miss his music lesson.”
“Well, at least your father and I will not lack company,” said Elizabeth. She looked forward to a quiet week at Pemberley with only her husband and her son for company. It was a week she would recall many times over, during the following years.
Later, Robert Gardiner, having spent a delightful week with his family, sailed for Ceylon and a new life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“As steady ships strongly
part the waters . . .”
TWO EVENTS BROUGHT THE families together in the late autumn of 1833. The first occasioned much happiness, when they gathered for the christening at Ashford Park of Sophia Bingley. Not long afterwards, they were called together again on a more sombre occasion, when news came of the death, from severe pneumonia, of Mrs Bennet. Her daughters, Mrs Bingley, Mrs Darcy, and Mrs Jenkins, accompanied by their husbands, their elder children, and Mr and Mrs Gardiner, travelled to Longbourn, where the Bennets had lived with their only unmarried daughter, Mary, and a modest household staff. No sooner had they arrived and seen their father, whose sobriety of attire and countenance was more evidence of his respect for convention than an indication of his emotional state, than they became involved in arrangements for the funeral.
Their sister Mary was understandably less able to cope, having nursed their mother through a short but exceedingly trying illness. Mr and Mrs Gardiner, invaluable as ever, took upon themselves most of the formal responsibilities, leaving Jane and Elizabeth to attend to their father’s needs, while Kitty assisted Mary. Later that day, arriving posthaste from Newcastle accompanied by her husband and all of her children was Mrs Wickham. On arrival, she appeared scarcely able to support herself and was far too distressed to be of any assistance to her sisters. Repairing immediately
to her former bedroom, where she sent for Kitty to minister to her needs and those of her younger children, Lydia seemed to take it for granted that she could now take her mother’s place in the household. Elizabeth and Jane found very little to sympathise with in their sister’s excessive show of grief. Like their Aunt Gardiner, they had some reservations about her protestations of filial affection, and if their father’s reaction was any indication of his feelings, he must surely have had his doubts, too. Thanks to the hospitality of Sir William Lucas, they were all comfortably lodged overnight and did not suffer the embarrassment of having to put up with either or both of the Wickhams at dinner.
The funeral at the village church was attended by a large number of people, testimony to the many friendships the family had made in the district over the years. Following the funeral, Jane and Bingley were anxious to return home to their family, but both Elizabeth and Kitty stayed on to support their father and Mary for a few days. To their surprise, they discovered that Lydia had made similar plans. Ensconced in her mother’s boudoir, in deep mourning, Lydia made much of the extremely long and tiring journey she had made and a similar one that lay ahead. It was plain from her hints of how much it had all cost, that she hoped to be reimbursed by her father. “Surely, Lizzie, you realise what it has cost to come all this way and buy mourning clothes for all the children,” she said pointedly. It would have been to no avail to argue that there had been no call to bring all the children, much less have them attired in formal mourning clothes. Elizabeth and Jane had decided that it was sufficient to have their eldest children pay their respects to their grandmother; yet Lydia’s entire brood had trailed behind her and Wickham to the church, attired in formal black. It had been quite a theatrical performance. Lydia, now in her thirties, looked increasingly like her mother and had adopted a remarkably similar manner of self-dramatisation. Elizabeth was loathe to leave her father in such a situation and was extremely relieved when Kitty decided to extend her stay by a week and help Mary and her father get the household settled. It was very good of Kitty to volunteer her time and was an indication of how much she had changed from the rather feckless self-indulgence of her youth under Lydia’s influence.
Elizabeth’s relief was somewhat short-lived, however, when two days later they stopped off at Lambton and were astonished to hear from Mrs Gardiner that the Bennets’ housekeeper, Mrs Hill, had confided in her that Lydia intended to return to Longbourn permanently! Sarah, Mrs Bennet’s chamber maid, had confirmed that Mrs Wickham had hinted at a similar possibility, urging Sarah to stay on at Longbourn against her return. Elizabeth was aghast at the prospect, chiefly out of concern for her father. He had found it sufficiently difficult to cope with Lydia’s excesses as a silly young girl fifteen years ago; how, she wondered, would he put up with her now, together with all her rather boisterous children? “And what of Wickham? Does he propose to move to Longbourn too?” Elizabeth asked. Mrs Gardiner had no answer, except to suggest that perhaps Mr and Mrs Wickham were happier apart than together! Returning to Pemberley, Elizabeth, still disturbed by her aunt’s news, wrote immediately to Jane, detailing the gist of the story and asking for her sister’s advice:
Can it be true, dear Jane, that Lydia proposes to impose upon poor Papa, while Wickham remains at Newcastle? It seems to me to be an impossible situation. I am at a loss to understand how it can even be contemplated. Aunt Gardiner believes that Lydia is making use of the opportunity afforded by Mama’s death to get herself a more comfortable situation at Longbourn, pretending to want to move there to “look after” Papa. She will, in truth, be feathering her own nest and simultaneously driving our poor father out of his mind. Oh Jane, this is such an undesirable development, and yet I am unable to think how it may be stopped . . .
In desperation she begged her sister to suggest a course of action that may be undertaken, but if the truth were known, she had not a great deal of confidence that one could be found.
The letter was never sent. Hardly had Elizabeth completed it and taken it down to be despatched, when an express arrived at the door. It was from Jane. Standing in the hall, where it had been handed to her, Elizabeth opened it and was astonished to read her sister’s hastily penned note:
Dearest Lizzie,
Since we parted after Mama’s funeral, something very disturbing has happened. I have this morning received an express from Kitty detailing a most unpleasant encounter between herself and Mary on the one hand and our sister Lydia on the other. Kitty writes that Lydia, while packing in preparation for their departure last Sunday, declared her intention to return in Spring “to look after Papa and keep an eye on Longbourn for Henry.” It appears that Wickham and Lydia have decided that since the death of Mr Collins has resulted in Papa’s retaining Longbourn, their son Henry, being a few weeks older than our Jonathan, is his natural heir. Upon this basis, Lydia intends to place herself in a position to make doubly sure of his inheritance by moving to Longbourn, while Papa still lives. Kitty and Mary are exceedingly unhappy, and Kitty writes that they would like to acquaint Papa with Lydia’s intentions but have not been able to do so, as he still keeps very much to his room.
Elizabeth’s fury was palpable as she threw the letter down on the table and cried out, “It’s outrageous! How dare they impose themselves on poor Papa, the insufferable creatures?” Hearing her voice, Emily, who was descending the stairs from the library, came swiftly to her side. Elizabeth handed her Jane’s letter. With Darcy away for the day at the Camden Estate, Elizabeth felt she had no alternative but to go directly to Lambton to consult her uncle and aunt.
There was no time to lose. The prospect of the Wickhams’ moving into Longbourn, the awful thought of what this would mean for her father and her sister Mary, who had no where else to go and would therefore be forced to remain as some kind of drudge for Lydia and her family, was too horrible to contemplate.
Leaving a note for Darcy, Elizabeth with Emily for company drove to Oakleigh Manor. The Gardiners were delighted at her unexpected visit, but their delight soon dissipated as she showed them Jane’s letter. Mrs Gardiner, in spite of having some hint of Lydia’s intentions, was still shocked by the impudence of her approach. “How could they be so totally selfish and so uncouth with it?” she lamented, “I can hardly believe what I am reading here.” Elizabeth was steely eyed and very angry.
“My dear Aunt, I do not put anything beyond Lydia and Wickham. I am unwilling to believe that this is something for which Lydia alone is responsible. I am certain that Wickham has urged her on. They are both thoroughly selfish, thoughtless of others, and ruthless in advancing their own material advantage. They will stop at nothing to get what they think is their due.”
“But is their interpretation of the process of the entail correct?” asked Emily, who had some doubts about the basis of Lydia’s claim. Her father shook his head.
“I am not convinced it is. My own understanding is that once the estate remains with Mr Bennet, which it has with the death of his cousin, it is his to dispose of in his will. However, we shall need to have that confirmed by an attorney. But Lizzie, I cannot believe that your father is unaware of this possibility. Perhaps, I could contact him myself and discover how he sees it,” he suggested.
Usually, Elizabeth would have been content to agree. She trusted her uncle’s judgement implicitly. But on this occasion, her concern for her father and younger sisters was overwhelming. She declared her intention to travel with him on the Wednesday, having first informed her father of their impending visit. She returned with Emily to Pemberley, to prepare for the journey. It was not something she undertook with any pleasure so soon after travelling to Longbourn for the funeral, but her sense of outrage at the unseemly behaviour of the Wickhams overcame her reluctance.
When Darcy returned that evening, Elizabeth had to acquaint him with the details of the wretched conspiracy being hatched by the Wickhams. The severity of Darcy’s expression, as his face darkened on hearing the news and reading Jane’s letter, left he
r in no doubt of his response. Like her, he believed that Wickham was the instigator of Lydia’s plan, and he certainly agreed that the couple were capable of any stratagem, adding his weight to her opinion that they had to be forestalled at any cost. “There is surely no truth at all in the notion that the entail would extend outside the family. Unless it was specified in a codicil to the original document, your father, with whom the property now remains, is entitled to bequeath it to any member of his family he chooses.” Gratified by his support and genuine concern, Elizabeth begged him to accompany them. At first, Darcy was reluctant, unwilling to interfere in what was strictly a Bennet family affair, until his wife pointed out that since they did not seek to benefit themselves or their children, they, rather than Jane and Bingley, whose son Jonathan might be a potential beneficiary, should feel free to act. Darcy, albeit reluctantly, agreed.
Their arrival at Longbourn on the following Thursday, a grey late November day, had been preceded by an express from Elizabeth. Kitty and Mary came out to greet them with the news that Mr Bennet was in the library, with his attorney, Mr Grimes. Kitty added that they had succeeded in informing their father of Lydia’s intention of returning in the Spring, to which he had merely retorted, “Oh no, she is not.”
“Since then, he has had Mr Grimes over twice, and today, we are all to go in to the library, when Jonathan arrives,” said Mary, with her usual air of gravity.
“Jonathan?” Elizabeth was surprised at this new turn of events.
“Yes,” said Kitty, “Papa sent an express to London, asking him to be here today. He is expected at any time now.” Darcy and Mr Gardiner both appeared pleased, confident that it meant Mr Bennet was not only aware of the Wickhams’ plans, but had probably acted to forestall them already. Darcy was particularly relieved. He had not wished to appear as if he was giving his father-in-law advice on the proper disposal of his property. Presently, Mr Bennet came out to greet them and invited them into the library, where they were introduced to Mr Grimes. Refreshments were served as they waited for Jonathan Bingley. He arrived a little later than expected, a tall young man of seventeen, with the good looks of his mother and the amiable manners of his father, Jonathan greeted everyone with affection and apologised for being late.
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