Within four hours they had arrived at Gracechurch-street. Elizabeth was surprised to see the grave expression on her aunt Gardiner’s face.
‘Is something wrong?’ she cried, rushing to her aunt. ‘Is it my uncle?’
‘No,’ Mrs. Gardiner murmured. ‘It is you, Lizzy.’
‘But I am in perfect health, aunt.’
‘Jane’s letters suggest otherwise,’ the older woman said, taking her arm. ‘Come. Let us talk.’
Lizzy felt suddenly exhausted. She longed to fall into her aunt’s arms and confess the burden that had settled itself around her heart. But what was to be gained? It was not as if she and her sisters could burden her uncle. The Gardiners had a family of their own and while wealthy, did not have the means to support another six grown women.
‘You are mistaken, aunt,’ Lizzy said carefully. ‘I understand what it is you mean to say. Please know I am happy.’
‘Lizzy!’
‘Please,’ Elizabeth implored softly, so as not to be overheard by the servants or Mrs. Philips. ‘Please say no more on the matter. For my sake. It is settled.’
Mrs. Gardiner watched her closely for a moment and then nodded her head almost imperceptibly. ‘As you wish.’
Thus, their interlude at London was not so pleasurable as Elizabeth had expected, for she spent most of the time avoiding her perceptive aunt’s scrutiny.
Three days later, they set out for Hertfordshire and reached Longbourn by noon. Lizzy had known her mother was pleased about the marriage, but she could in no way have anticipated Mrs. Bennet’s response to her return. The woman practically skipped to the door to greet them and it was impossible to discern what she was saying.
It was the sight of Jane’s lovely face that set Lizzy on high alert. Lizzy knew from subtle signs in her sister’s correspondence that Jane was still suffering the ill-effects of Mr. Bingley’s sudden withdrawal from Netherfield. Now, though, she was positively radiant with happiness. Lizzy, curiosity piqued, caught her elder sister’s eye and motioned upstairs. Jane left the drawing room a moment later. It took some time for Lizzy to extricate herself from her other sisters’ questions, but she hurried from the room as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
‘What has happened,’ Lizzy asked, as soon as she entered their room.
Jane threw herself on the bed and beamed. ‘It is quite unbelievable,’ she gasped. ‘Mama received a letter this morning from a solicitor. It contained the most shocking news. An anonymous benefactor has intervened on our behalf and made a settlement with Mr. Collins for our father’s estate!’
Lizzy clutched her chest. Excitement coursed through her at first, soon replaced by confusion. ‘But, dear Jane, I was at Hunsford not four days ago. Mr. Collins made no mention of such an arrangement.’
‘But it is certain,’ Jane said calmly. ‘Why, Mr. Philips perused it and verified it. He had heard of the offices. A very prestigious solicitor in London apparently.’
‘But why?’ Lizzy gasped, starting to pace the room. Her nature was vastly different from Jane’s. She could think of no person in the world who might stand to benefit from such an arrangement.
‘Perhaps it was Lady Catherine,’ Jane said happily. ‘Wishing to free Mr. Collins from any obligation that conflicted with his responsibilities at Hunsford.’
‘Perhaps,’ Lizzy said, unconvinced. ‘Though, having had the pleasure of that lady’s company, I should doubt it very much.’
Jane giggled. ‘Oh Lizzy! Was she so very frightful?’
Lizzy just smiled in response, not wanting to leave the topic of the mysterious benefactor. But Jane had other issues on her mind, and Lizzy couldn’t bring herself to deny Jane, especially when she seemed in such good spirits for the first time since Mr. Bingley’s departure.
‘Lizzy I’ve been so very worried. You don’t seem at all yourself.’
Finally, after all those weeks, Lizzy allowed herself to admit the truth. ‘I had no other choice, Jane. You know that.’
Jane patted her hand, eyes sparkling. ‘But it’s different now. Now that mama owns Longbourn, there is no longer a risk of Mr. Collins casting us out. You are free to marry as you please!’
Lizzy wished she shared her sister’s optimism, but she saw the situation quite differently. ‘Oh but that were true, Jane!’ cried she, burying her face in her pillow. ‘But I can’t break the engagement. You know it is true—it should bring disgrace on this family! Even if some kind soul has purchased our land, that does nothing to change our situation in life. Who would choose to marry any of us if it were known that Miss Elizabeth Bennet had impertinently broken an engagement as soon as her circumstances changed?’
Jane, usually so eager to offer a positive viewpoint, remained silent.
24
The weeks passed, and with them came certainty of Mrs. Bennet’s position in Longbourn. A junior solicitor was despatched from the offices in London to assure the family of their security. Though many attempts were made to discover the identity of their mysterious benefactor, a name was not forthcoming.
The wedding plans progressed along, though the event would not be as frivolous as Mrs. Bennet might have hoped for. Her offer to provide a new carriage thanks to her newfound security was met with blank indifference from her second daughter. Lizzy cared not about the marriage, only that her future husband had not yet arrived in Hertfordshire. She was greatly alarmed at the arrival of a servant with a letter one morning, thinking it could be no one else but Mr. Collins sending advance notice of his coming. She watched her mother open the letter with great impatience, her mind aflutter with anxiety. Sure enough, Mrs. Bennet’s reaction was one of such great joy that Elizabeth felt sure her marriage was imminent.
So it was to her great surprise when her mama hurried from the room and called for Jane at the top of her voice. Lizzy hurried after her.
‘What is it, mama?’ came Jane’s calm voice from the head of the stairs.
‘Mr. Bingley has returned to Netherfield,’ Mrs. Bennet cried, waving the letter around.
‘My goodness,’ Elizabeth murmured, as Jane hurried down the stairs.
‘No, child,’ Mrs. Bennet scolded, blocking Jane’s path. ‘He intends to call on us this very morning. Hurry! You must go prepare at once!’
Jane turned and hurried back up the stairs to toilette, leaving Lizzy alone with her mother and younger sisters. She looked up the stairs wistfully, wondering how it must feel to have such excitement at the prospect of a gentleman caller.
‘How can you be so glum?’ Lydia muttered. ‘You’re to be married. The rest of us have been confined here since papa’s passing.’
The youngest two Bennet girls had changed almost unrecognisably since Elizabeth left for Kent. With their social engagements curtailed by mourning, they had spent most of their time at Longbourn. Their only callers had been the Long girls. Lydia appeared to have suffered most from this forced confinement.
‘Yes, well,’ Lizzy said, holding her tongue lest her true feelings escape—namely that Lydia was most welcome to marry Mr. Collins and Lizzy would happily take her place and while away the rest of her days at Longbourn. She felt no small amount of guilt then—if she broke her engagement to Mr. Collins, then such a fate would likely befall her younger sisters. She doubted Lydia could stand such a thing!
‘He’s so dull,’ Lydia said, flicking her loose hair over her shoulder. ‘I don’t know how you stand it. You don’t have to marry him now. You heard what that solicitor from London said.’ Her eyes gleamed for the first time since the Netherfield ball. ‘Though I want you to marry him. Then we shall be allowed to dance at your marriage.’
‘There shall be no dancing at my marriage,’ Elizabeth said, adding: ‘it wouldn’t be proper. Besides, I am not so wont to believe that solicitor as you and mama. Who would do such a thing? We have no wealthy relatives—certainly none with the means to purchase Longbourn so quickly and without regard for the cost.’
Lydia’s eyes twinkled. ‘You don’t
believe so, dear sister?’
‘I don’t,’ Lizzy said crossly.
‘Well,’ Lydia whispered conspiratorially. ‘I happen to know who bought it, though I can’t think why he would have done so.’
‘And how did you happen upon this knowledge? Did you hurry to London and inquire at the Land Registry?’
‘Don’t be foolish, sister,’ Lydia said haughtily. ‘Of course not. No, I simply batted my eyelashes at the young solicitor. He claimed not to know the identity of our mystery saviour, but he soon confessed when I expressed my utter awe at his cleverness. Awful fellow, but I’ve been sequestered away from the regiment for so very long that any male company was welcome.’
Lizzy stared at her youngest sister, knowing not whether to believe her. ‘That’s preposterous,’ she said finally. ‘Why should he tell you and not mama? And why, if you had this knowledge, would you keep it to yourself?’
‘He made me promise,’ Lydia whispered. ‘Said if I told anyone that it might affect mama’s ownership.’
‘And that was enough to buy your silence?’
Lydia flinched. ‘I may be foolish, but I am not as stupid as you think, sister.’
‘No, indeed,’ Elizabeth owned. ‘Are you going to tell me who it was?’
Lydia’s eyes narrowed and a mischievous light appeared in them. She wasn’t accustomed to being in a position of power over her sisters, and she appeared to relish the advantage.
‘Lydia,’ Lizzy said sharply.
Lydia started at the severity of her sister’s tone. ‘It was Mr. Darcy,’ she whispered. ‘Remember? The gentleman who accompanied the Bingleys to Netherfield? You must swear not to tell a soul. Promise me.’
Elizabeth’s pulse was fluttering so hard that her hand shook when she held it to her breast and solemnly promised her sister that she would indeed remain silent.
‘It must have something to do with Mr. Bingley’s return,’ Lydia hissed. ‘I fancy he urged his friend Darcy to intervene because he loves Jane so. He has returned to ask for her hand! Oh, it shall be the finest wedding party in the land. Yours will be no rival to it.’
‘No,’ Lizzy agreed absently. ‘I own that mine will be nothing of the sort.’
25
Elizabeth Bennet was so deep in thought that she remained in her room when a great commotion downstairs suggested that Mr. Bingley had arrived at Longbourn House. She paid scant attention to the squeals of her mother and younger sisters, who were so obviously lingering outside the drawing room in an attempt to be the first to learn of whatever new development unfolded. Lizzy was pleased for Jane that the acquaintance had been re-established, and pleased that her mother and sisters had a new distraction to occupy them.
Even she was distracted, but by another matter entirely. She had thought to write immediately to Mrs. Gardiner to seek confirmation of the truth in Lydia’s statement, but it hadn’t taken long for her to dismiss that approach as foolish. Lydia was a silly girl, but it spoke volumes that she had not shared her knowledge with anyone bar Lizzy.
She still wondered why Mr. Darcy could possibly do such a thing. Was it guilt over his treatment of her sister? Lizzy coloured as she remembered their conversation at the parsonage at Hunsford. Had he simply been extending the hand of charity to a family of inferior social standing? No, she concluded. For once, Lydia was right. It had been the work of Mr. Bingley.
Finally, exasperated with herself, Lizzy lay down with the intention of sleeping. But it eluded her until she was finally forced to leave her room and return to her family, for their loud whispers and laughter were preventing her from sleeping.
Lizzy reached the bottom of the stairs at the same moment as the drawing room door opened and her mother and younger sisters hurtled themselves away and pretended to go about their daily business. Jane emerged from the drawing room looking happier than Lizzy had ever seen her. Her heart soared with pleasure for her sister’s happiness as they embraced.
‘I am the happiest creature in the world,’ Jane cried.
They were soon joined by Mrs. Bennet and the other girls, and Lizzy moved to Mr. Bingley to congratulate him. The man looked scarcely less happy than Jane. Lizzy wondered what had happened to cause the gentleman, whose love for her sister was so apparent, to return. Had Mr. Darcy intervened? She knew better than to ask him—such a question would be most impertinent as it would cast light on her knowledge of the events and likely embarrass Mr. Bingley. There was another matter, though, which she could not restrain herself from mentioning.
‘I must thank you, Mr. Bingley, for all that you have done for my mother.’
He beamed back at her and she carefully scrutinised his expression. ‘No doubt your mother is thrilled, but I cannot claim to be anything other than delighted myself. I am the happiest man in all of England.’
Lizzy smiled at the sentiment, for she had wished it to be said for the longest time. She wondered how she might delicately frame the other matter she wished to discuss with her future brother. ‘No, dear Mr. Bingley. The other matter. Involving solicitors. From London.’
A close inspection of his countenance confirmed it. Charles Bingley had not the slightest inkling of what she was referring to. ‘Ah,’ she owned. ‘Perhaps I have been mistaken. I have been away from Longbourn for some time now.’
To her relief he simply nodded, too engrossed in his happiness to pay much attention to what must have seemed a strange question indeed.
From that moment on, Mr. Bingley was a regular visitor at Longbourn House. Elizabeth brimmed with curiosity as to the whereabouts of his friend Mr. Darcy, but could not bring herself to mention the gentleman’s name. Arrangements for Jane’s marriage to Bingley had become the foremost engagement of the Bennet household, much to Lizzy’s delight, though she was realistic enough to know that that awful day must eventually come where she would marry Mr. Collins. It was not an unhappy time for Elizabeth—how could she be unhappy when Jane was happier than she had ever been?
26
The days carried on in much the same way, with talk of sashes and ribbon and the finest muslins. The arrival of a letter did not cause quite the same stir as it might have a few weeks before—congratulatory missives were flowing into the Bennet household now that news of Jane’s engagement had circulated.
Lizzy’s suspicions were not raised even when her mother called for her to tell her the letter was for her.
Lizzy recognised the careful, diligent hand immediately, but still she showed no urgency in opening the missive. If her mother had recognised the hand, she showed no sign of doing so. Lizzy opened the letter and stared at it. The small, careful writing took up perhaps a third of the paper, if even that. She wondered at that—it wasn’t like Mr. Collins to spare any opportunity for a sermon. She began to read.
MY DEAR MISS ELIZABETH,
I regret to inform you that I must cease our engagement forthwith. Events of recent weeks—to which I am sure you are now privy—have led to a change in my circumstances. I mean you no ill-will and have been assured that your needs will be catered for.
Yours & co
Elizabeth stared in disbelief. What did this mean? Her hands began to shake as she reread it and its meaning began to take hold in her mind. She had escaped her fate! She turned and hurried to the breakfast room to confide in Jane, but on entering, found her sister’s attentions wholly taken up by Mr. Bingley. It was then that she realised there was still one more obstacle before she was free—she needed to break the news to her mother.
Mrs. Bennet had never been in such rare good spirits. Elizabeth approached her carefully despite that—she imagined a mother’s mood could change on a whim if she learned of a daughter’s failed engagement.
‘Mama,’ said she, holding up the letter but keeping it out of the reach of her mother’s fingers. ‘It is Mr. Collins. He has decided to end our engagement.’
Mrs. Bennet’s mouth fell open, but there remained about her a decided sense of calm. Elizabeth suspected that her future son’s
five thousand a year had something to do with that. ‘Is this true, Lizzy?’
‘Yes, mama. Something to do with his changing circumstances.’
Her mother sighed. ‘Well, I suppose it is too much to ask that I have two daughters married off. Perhaps Jane can persuade Mr. Bingley to throw a ball at Netherfield. Though I daresay I shall wait until that awful Mr. Darcy has departed.’
At this, Elizabeth assumed she had misheard. ‘Mr. Darcy, did you say? It was my belief that he had returned to Pemberley.’
‘Well then you must be mistaken, child. I have it on such good authority as Mr. Bingley himself, who would know such things. Mr. Darcy returns to Netherfield on the morrow. And I do hope he departs just as suddenly,’ she said in a whisper. ‘You are positively ill-tempered in his presence, though I daresay I don’t blame you for it.’
Elizabeth coloured. She had no doubt now that Lydia had kept her knowledge secret. ‘Perhaps we have misjudged Mr. Darcy?’
Her mother’s face told her it was best not to dwell on the matter.
27
Elizabeth Bennet was awake early the following morning, and had called for Sarah to fix her hair before any other soul at Longbourn had even stirred. She knew not why her appearance was of such importance that morning. All she knew was that she could think of nothing else than that curious Mr. Darcy and his reasons for getting involved in their affairs.
After a time, Elizabeth had grown so restless that she resolved only a walk could calm her down. She crept through the house, determined not to wake her mother or her sleeping sisters. She was barely aware of where she was going, so consumed was she by her thoughts. As she exited the house, however, she was roused from her ruminations in the most surprising way. A chaise and four approached, and there could be little doubt that its destination was Longbourn House.
Darcy Steps In Page 6