by P. O. Dixon
Elizabeth smiled and took another sip of tea, signalling Georgiana to continue her speech.
“Though I know nothing of the particulars of how Mr. Wickham went about poisoning your mind against my brother, I know enough of how much he dislikes my brother to warrant suspicion. You see, he employed similar tactics with me.”
“Miss Darcy—”
She held up her hand. “Please hear what I am about to say. My father loved Mr. Wickham. He educated him, and he even bequeathed him the living in Kympton in his will.”
Elizabeth suspected where the conversation was headed. “I have knowledge of this, for Mr. Wickham told me as much himself.”
“I do not doubt that. I am sure he told you my brother denied him the living.”
“Did he not, Miss Darcy?”
“I will not attempt to deny it. However, my brother did not act as he did without good reason, causes of which I was wholly unaware at the time. Mr. Wickham also had told me that my brother had done him a great disservice. He preyed upon the tender regard that I had held for him since I was a child. He preyed upon my wish to make amends for what my brother had done.
“I later learned Mr. Wickham never had any attention of accepting the living and having told my brother as much, accepted three thousand pounds in lieu of it only to squander the entirety of the funds. He returned to Pemberley demanding more, but my brother refused to give him any more money.
“I might never have known any of this except Mr. Wickham followed me to Ramsgate, pledging violent love for me. I agreed to an elopement. Before we could put the scheme in effect, my brother arrived in Ramsgate.
“Though I believed I was in love with Mr. Wickham, I could not in good conscience deceive my brother. I told him of our plans.
“Never had I witnessed such dismay, such disappointment in my brother’s eyes. However, that was nothing compared to the ensuing rage in him when Mr. Wickham arrived to spirit me away to Gretna Green.
“My brother confronted Mr. Wickham and accused him of taking advantage of an innocent for his own malicious purposes. The two argued. In scarcely the work of a few moments, Mr. Wickham admitted his duplicity. His being in Ramsgate had nothing to do with his love for me and everything to do with his hatred of my brother. The way he went on to account for his motives is too hurtful for me to describe. Suffice it to say, he admitted that if not for my fortune of thirty thousand pounds, he would not have given me a second thought.
“My shame was great. Had it not been for my brother’s love and his constant reassurances that I was not to blame for succumbing to the seduction of an older, worldlier man, I know not what would have become of me. Some months have passed since I learned to think similarly.”
Elizabeth thought of everything she knew of Wickham. One by one, all her past arguments in his favour melted away by the obvious pain in Georgiana’s face in having to recount his misdeeds. She thought of Miss King; how she had turned a sympathetic eye to his desire to marry her to raise his own standing in life. She, too, suffered the sting of shame made worse by the guilt of duplicity. What she had perceived as allowable with one woman was clearly mercenary, nay cruelty, when directed towards the young and innocent Miss Darcy.
“Miss Darcy,” she said, “I am sorry. I never knew, never suspected anyone capable of such depravity.”
“No, how could you? I did not tell you this to garner your sympathy, Miss Elizabeth. I only told you that you might have a better indication of my brother’s character ... that you would not judge him harshly on the word of Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth thought about the many times she had prided herself on her discernment, yet she had praised Mr. Wickham whilst abusing Mr. Darcy, not only to others but also to his face. Embarrassed and ashamed, she wondered if she even knew herself. What was worse, she had not been as gracious to Miss Darcy as she ought, but rather had returned the young woman’s attempts to show her kindness with cool civility.
Soon, the Gardiner’s maid bearing a letter for Elizabeth interrupted the two ladies.
Elizabeth took it in hand and perused it. “This letter is from Mary, my sister.”
“Then, I shall prepare to take my leave. You must be eager to read what she has to say. I need only send word to my driver.”
“No—no, please do not leave right away, Miss Darcy, unless you are expected elsewhere.” Elizabeth thought if nothing else she might find a means of conveying her regrets to Mr. Darcy by paying off every arrear of kindness to his sister.
“I have nowhere else to be.”
“Very well; if you will pardon me, I will see to it our tea is freshened.” Elizabeth placed the letter from Mary in her pocket and carried the tea service to the kitchen. Whilst waiting for the Gardiner’s maid to prepare a fresh pot of boiling water, she sat at the table to peruse Mary’s letter. Though she did not wish to let on to her guest, it bothered her that Mary had sent the letter by express.
Not long thereafter, Elizabeth reminded herself to breathe as she stood on the opposite side of the door. My family is ruined! She put on a brave face and pushed forward. Walking into the room, she decided it best to conceal the truth from Miss Darcy. Alas, the young woman proved as astute an observer as her brother had ever been.
Georgiana went to Elizabeth’s side and placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “Miss Elizabeth, what is it? You look as if you have seen a ghost!”
Elizabeth burst into tears. Georgiana put her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder and led her to take a seat. After a minute or so, the maid entered the room bearing the tray.
“Thank you, I shall handle things,” Georgiana said to the young maid in response to her confusion, whilst Elizabeth turned away, attempting to compose herself. Upon the maid’s quitting the room, Georgiana prepared a cup of tea and handed it to Elizabeth.
“Please, drink this.”
Elizabeth attempted a measured smile. After a moment, she said, “Thank you, Miss Darcy.”
“You are troubled. Please, tell me what has occurred? Has something happened at home with your family? Is that what has wrought such a change in your demeanour?”
“Oh, Miss Darcy, the news from home is grave ... grave indeed. I do not think it would be fair to burden you.”
“You need not worry on my behalf. Is there anything I might do?”
“I fear there is nothing to be done. You see, my youngest sister has run away. She has thrown herself in the power—” Elizabeth looked into Georgiana’s eyes. “My sister, Lydia, has thrown herself into Mr. Wickham’s power.”
Georgiana’s haunted countenance struck Elizabeth with force. The two young ladies embraced, neither sure of which one comforted the other.
* * *
Georgiana ran into her brother’s study, no longer able to countenance the brave face she had donned as she had left the Gardiner’s home. It seemed too real. The pain. The humiliation she had suffered in Ramsgate. Everything coming back at once. Haunting her once again. Darcy stood upon her entrance, welcomed her into his embrace as she ran across the room.
“Georgiana,” he said, “please tell me at once. What has happened to upset you so?”
Trembling, Georgiana suffered as truly as if her worst nightmare had revisited her doorstep. The warmth of her brother’s arms reminded her she was safe. He had saved her. Perhaps he might accomplish the impossible once again. Pulling herself together, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she accepted his proffered handkerchief.
“Brother, I know you told me that I should not visit Miss Elizabeth, but I was unable to refrain.”
Panic etched across his face. Deny it if he wished, but his sister could see how much he cared for Miss Elizabeth.
“No harm has befallen Miss Elizabeth.”
“Then what is the matter? Something has upset you.”
“I am afraid the news from Cheapside is dreadful. Miss Elizabeth swore me to secrecy, yet I am certain I must make an exception.”
“What is it?”
“Her youngest
sister, Miss Lydia, has ... has left the protection of her family and run off with Mr. Wickham. Miss Elizabeth is devastated by this scandalous turn of events, and what it must mean for her family. She fears all hope is lost.”
Chapter 12
The Longbourn household settled into a quiet uproar. Elizabeth’s mother, despite having retired to her bed upon learning of her Lydia’s actions, could find no peace. Her mother’s misery, however, had been nothing compared to the despair of those around her. Mrs. Bennet had made certain of it. Elizabeth relaxed at last. Her mother slept.
Her father had gone to town within a day of discovering Lydia’s letter announcing her intended elopement with Mr. Wickham to Gretna Green, to do what he told Elizabeth he never thought he would ever have to do when he opened his home to the nefarious lieutenant. Her father’s foray into town had only compounded her mother’s worry, for Mrs. Bennet was certain he would be forced to fight the villainous Mr. Wickham; he most certainly would be killed. What would become of them?
Upon his quick return from town, several days later, to Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet’s face reflected resignation. He seemed to have aged several years in the few days since venturing to town. Elizabeth studied her father’s countenance, his posture, his demeanour. What a toll this endeavour had taken on him, her father, a man who would have been content to pass the bulk of his remaining days on earth in the comfort of his library. Moreover, by his telling, it had all been in vain, for he and Mr. Gardiner had met one dead-end after another in their quest for information. All evidence suggested one thing; the couple had not travelled to Gretna Green. All leads proved false, as though they had vanished to the underside of nowhere at all.
Since her own hasty return from town on the same afternoon that she received the letter from home telling of Lydia’s elopement, Elizabeth and Mary had formed a kindred regard in the care of their mother. Jane kept to herself. Kitty did too, having stated her belief as she did that had she spoken up, she might have prevented her sister’s foolishness. Elizabeth noted her younger sister’s sentiments as a stark contrast to her mother in that regard. Mrs. Bennet blamed everyone else for the fiasco, and often lamented on how things had come to this when all she ever wanted was to see her five daughters well settled.
Her complaints against Elizabeth were just as strident as they had been before Elizabeth ventured to town to visit the Gardiners. What sorrow she had endured over the past several months! She recited her pride in the notion of her first-born daughter being the mistress of the neighbouring estate of Netherfield Park and the security she had enjoyed when she believed her second eldest daughter would be married to the heir of their family’s estate. The first union was destined to put her remaining daughters in the paths of other rich men; the second, to secure her place in her beloved home for the remainder of her days. Two perfect unions—her life’s work nearly done.
Despite the deathblow wielded upon her hopes for her two eldest daughters, as far as Elizabeth could detect, her mother had managed to recover owing to the fact that there was still time. Elizabeth feared this latest setback was too much for her mother to bear, for even a nonsensical woman could not deny the damage to the rest of them wrought by her youngest daughter’s thoughtless act.
Two days after their father’s return from town, Elizabeth and Mary sat on either side of their mother’s bed and watched her sleep.
“Lizzy, I hesitate to ask, in light of everything that has occurred with Lydia. Yet, my curiosity begs satisfaction. Did you meet Mr. Bingley whilst in town?”
The memories of her argument with Mr. Darcy flooded Elizabeth’s mind. “Mary, perhaps we might take a stroll about the garden whilst Mama rests.”
“Sunshine and a breath of fresh air would serve us both well,” Mary said.
Once outside in the embrace of the sun, Elizabeth was at leisure to talk. “Mary, I met Mr. Bingley whilst visiting Lady Gwendolen Helmsley at her brother’s country estate.”
“Were you able to speak with him? Does he care for Jane?”
“In all honesty, I cannot say. I mean to say he and I had no chance to speak privately.” Elizabeth looked away, wistfully. “Mr. Darcy was there.”
“Oh! Is that why you were unable to speak with Mr. Bingley in confidence?”
“Well, in a manner of speaking. I learned Mr. Darcy had a greater role to play in separating Mr. Bingley and Jane than I ever had suspected. I discovered the truth of the extent of his role whilst in Tilbury. I confronted him; we argued. I am afraid he and I parted on the worst of terms.”
“Lizzy, I fail to understand how an argument with Mr. Darcy thwarted your efforts to speak with Mr. Bingley. The two of you were always at odds. I would have supposed an altercation with Mr. Darcy would only bolster your determination.”
“Actually, the argument with Mr. Darcy was predicated upon a number of matters, things I hesitate to discuss, except to say I wanted nothing more than to flee his presence and return to London as soon as could be.”
“I suppose everything turned out for the best. I should not expect Mr. Bingley to return to Jane’s side now, not with the shame Lydia has brought on the family.”
Elizabeth and Mary rounded the corner and espied their father heading into the house with a letter in hand, having received it moments earlier by express. They raced towards him.
“Papa, Papa,” they breathlessly spoke in unison upon reaching his side.
“Papa, is that a letter from town?” Elizabeth said. “Has my uncle had any success? Have Lydia and Mr. Wickham been discovered?”
“Will they be married?” Mary said.
“Everything has been arranged,” Elizabeth’s father said. “The financial burden of this scandal upon your uncle’s purse has been substantial; nonetheless, everything has been arranged.”
They had not dared wish for such happy news. Lydia married, even to a scoundrel, was better than the alternative.
“Come; let us share the news with Mama!”
“Shall we wait until she awakens?”
“I suppose we should let her be, for now. She has barely rested since this scandal broke. Nevertheless, we must tell someone. The news is too good to keep to ourselves, do you not agree?”
“Let us tell Jane. This must certainly lift her spirits a bit.”
“Yes, and Kitty will want to hear the news, as well. She has been quite distraught.”
Elizabeth and Mary nearly collided with Jane, as they headed up the stairs. “Jane!”
“I heard a commotion. Has something happened?” Jane placed her hand on Elizabeth’s. “Dearest Lizzy, I want to do what I might in support of our family during this crisis. You and Mary have taken too much upon yourselves. I have come to realise my troubles are nothing by comparison to poor Lydia’s, and I can no longer escape, in good conscience, those responsibilities that come with being the eldest daughter. How might I help?”
Elizabeth embraced her sister. “Oh, Jane! I am delighted to witness this improvement in your spirits, and what Mary and I have to say will surely raise them even further. You see, we have spoken with Papa. He says Lydia is to be married!”
“Married? Do not mistake me, for I am relieved, but how? When did this come about?”
“Papa says our uncle has handled everything—at a considerable expense to himself, I might add.”
“How much do you suppose this business cost?”
“I dare say Wickham would be a fool to settle for less than ten thousand pounds.” Even as Elizabeth voiced the words, she still deemed the scheme unfathomable. Jane and Mary forced their mouths shut.
“Mama will want to know about the wedding.”
“Mary and I agree. We thought we might allow her to rest. We shall tell her as soon as she wakes.”
“Mama is awake. I left her side a minute ago.”
Oh, the healing power of words proclaiming the marriage of one of her daughters! Mrs. Bennet jumped out of her bed and blethered about. So much needed to be done. A wedding!
“My
Lydia will be married, and to such a fine young man.” Mrs. Bennet raced to her wardrobe in search of what to wear. “I do hope they settle in a nearby estate.”
Elizabeth hid her true sentiments behind a half-hearted smile. If her mother only realised the sort of man her youngest daughter was marrying, would she be nearly as pleased? Elizabeth shook her head in frustration. No doubt, her mother would be equally appeased.
* * *
Not too many days thereafter, her mother’s delight in receiving her youngest daughter and her new son-in-law at Longbourn was overshadowed by her sadness that they would be going the next day to Newcastle. Her father’s sentiments were quite the opposite. Mr. Wickham had deceived him. Repeatedly, he said he was not apt to forget, or forgive, the young man’s betrayal any time soon.
Elizabeth showed her disdain for her new brother-in-law by scarcely uttering a word to him that he did not labour to earn. When conversation with the gentleman was unavoidable, some mention of the Darcys was made, given Wickham’s knowledge of Elizabeth having spent time in town. When Elizabeth confirmed his supposition that she must have run across Mr. Darcy at some point, he prodded her into going a step further.
“I also had the pleasure of spending quite a bit of time in Miss Darcy’s company.”
“I wonder, Lizzy, how did you find Miss Darcy?” How it vexed her that he had the right to address her so, as they were now brother and sister.
“To be honest, I have to say she was nothing as you described her.”
“I do not doubt it. I imagine she has grown kindlier with age.”
“Kindlier, indeed, and far wiser, I dare say.”
His stricken countenance allowed Elizabeth to discern she had hit her mark, and she walked away with the satisfaction of having let him know that she knew what he was about.
Escaping conversation with Lydia was impossible. The family sat around the drawing room on the last evening that the newly married couple would be guests at Longbourn, listening to Lydia go on and on about the happy state of being a married woman, even going as far as to recommend the institution of marriage to her sisters.
