Darcy and Georgiana left the party to find Mrs Reynolds to order a fine repast for dinner. When they returned to Jane and Bingley, Elizabeth was gone. Jane saw Darcy’s eyes searching the room. “Lizzy feels ready for a walk. Too much excitement, I think. She has gone for her bonnet and spencer, but she will return here before going out.”
“So this is her regular habit, Miss Bennet?” asked Georgiana. “She takes a long walk every day?”
“Oh, yes. Lizzy always has from the age of twelve or so. The exercise seems to soothe her,” Jane replied.
“I have heard rumours, Miss Bennet, that your sister has been known to run, just for the exertion of it. Do you know if it is true?” Darcy asked with a twinkle in his eye.
Jane gave him an appraising look before answering, “Indeed, sir, I have heard those rumours myself.” More she would not say, but she directed at Darcy a rather sly smile that made Bingley laugh.
“Surely, Darcy, you must know these two sisters will never betray each other,” Bingley said.
“No, and I would not have it any other way, but please, Miss Bennet, do not assume any disapprobation on my part. I find your sister uniquely fascinating; that is all. She is a most interesting creature.”
“Where is Elizabeth?” Georgiana asked, entering the room.
Jane answered, “She is fetching a bonnet and putting on her walking boots, I expect. She is missing her daily walk.”
“Perhaps I should join her, and then she and I can practice our music when we return.”
“Perhaps Miss Elizabeth wishes to stroll alone, gosling.” Darcy smiled.
Georgiana smiled enigmatically. “Perhaps…but perhaps I might come upon her unexpectedly if I take a walk. Perhaps my brother might join me?”
“Georgie…” Her brother used his grumpy-brother face.
Ignoring him, Georgiana said merely, “I shall await her pleasure here, then decide if I want a walk or not.”
Chinese aster
“I partake of your sentiments”
Chapter 9
A Proposal Postponed
Saturday, 1 August, 1812
Grayson, the Pemberley butler, noticed Miss Elizabeth Bennet ascending the stairs to the guest rooms with her usual skipping step. She always had a smile for him, and he relished the lightness of heart that attended her and those in her company, most notably his master and Miss Darcy. Even Mrs Reynolds seemed to like her — not, of course, that it mattered a jot what the opinions of the servants were. Still, Grayson felt a pleasant air of expectancy throughout Pemberley since the arrival of Miss Elizabeth in the neighbourhood, as if a question was about to be settled very much to Pemberley’s benefit. As he stood musing in the entry hall, he heard the approach of a rider at the front door and so was not surprised to hear a knock.
An express letter was presented to him from Miss Mary Bennet of Longbourn, addressed to both Miss Bennets. He stood a moment and decided to take it to Miss Elizabeth in her room since he was not precisely certain where Miss Jane could be found. Just as he started up the stairs, he heard rapid light steps descending, and Elizabeth reappeared.
Grayson turned with her, clearing his throat, and addressed her when they reached the marble entry floor. “Ahem, Miss Bennet. An express has just arrived for you and your sister from Miss Mary Bennet. I was just coming up to deliver it.”
“Oh! You are very kind, Grayson. Thank you.” Elizabeth stepped to the square table at the centre of the hall, carved from the swirling burl of oak taken from a fallen tree in the Pemberley woods at the time the house was built. She laid down her summer gloves and parasol. Grayson withdrew, and Elizabeth tore open the letter, already feeling some disquiet. She was right to feel the stirrings of alarm as she read:
30 July, 1812
To my dear sisters,
Our father has asked me to write with haste, and we are certain what must be reported will cause you great shock and distress, but it cannot be helped nor delayed until your return. I shall write it all as quickly as I can, and we can more thoroughly discuss the moral and ethical implications of what has occurred when you return home, which we bid you do with all possible speed.
Very early yesterday morning, we were the recipients of an express from Colonel Forster, followed some hours later by the arrival of the man himself. The news was of such an alarming nature that our mother has taken to her bed, and my father has left for London this morning to enlist the assistance of our uncle.
It appears our sister Lydia has either been abducted by, but more likely has eloped with, George Wickham. Most alarming, there is no evidence of them having gone to Scotland. Their trail stops in London, hence our father’s haste to get there and begin a search. Lydia left a letter for Mrs Forster, which our father has allowed me to see, and I trust, like me, the two of you will be most shocked when you read it. Her waywardness is appalling to say the least.
The facts, as we know them, are that they left Brighton in the dead of night Tuesday, and when Lydia was discovered missing yesterday morning, The colonel was able to track them as far as Clapham but no further. They travelled by post from there into London, but the post made many stops in town, and the colonel was not successful in finding where they had disembarked before he continued on to Longbourn. He found no evidence they have married, and Mr Denny, when asked about the matter, said he never heard Wickham utter a flattering word towards Lydia nor mention any special regard for her, saying only that she was the kind of girl it would “not be necessary to marry to obtain her charms, meagre as they may be.” Is this not deplorable?
Mr Denny said Wickham showed no interest in Lydia until she bragged at a card party one evening that her sister Elizabeth was visiting Lambton, and Uncle Gardiner suspected Mr Darcy of some partiality for her. The news quite captured Wickham’s attention, and he set about, to use Mr Denny’s dangerous word, “seducing” our poor sister.
There is much more to tell, but the particulars can surely wait until your arrival. Please encourage our Aunt Gardiner to come with you as Mama is a trial, and Kitty does not have the patience to sit with her much.
Please send an express when you leave Derbyshire, letting us know when we may expect you, although I know travelling with the children may slow your pace.
Praying for your safe journey,
Your loving sister,
Mary Bennet
Elizabeth stared at the letter — Lydia, Wickham, not necessary to marry, no evidence they have married, seducing — until her eyes burned. She leaned heavily with one arm on the table, trying not to shed tears caused by the perfidy of George Wickham. She was livid, seeing quite clearly Wickham’s actions as an attack on Darcy, and perhaps even herself, for what he would selfishly see as her defection. The leaves of the letter fluttered to the table. Elizabeth’s right hand shaded her eyes.
“Elizabeth?”
It was the startled and concerned voice of Darcy, who had been looking for her, hoping he might join in her walk with Georgiana. He had reason to think Georgiana would mysteriously vanish, leaving him alone with his love on the paths of Pemberley. His little hope had been rekindled by Elizabeth’s shy smiles. He prayed one accepted proposal might encourage the furtherance of another.
Elizabeth lowered her hand from her eyes and turned to him. Upon seeing his face, now so dear to her, the tears gave way, and other ramifications of the present calamity crowded her mind. Lydia is in the most dire straits, and all I can think is I have lost him…poor stupid Lydia, a pawn in a game not of her making. Elizabeth had tucked Darcy’s handkerchief up the wrist cuff of her spencer and she now made use of it, turning from him.
“Elizabeth! What has happened?” Darcy’s voice was quiet and earnest. He longed to touch her, to turn her around to face him. If only I could embrace her and absorb whatever is causing this anguish.
“An express has arrived from Longbourn with the most dreadful news. I cannot imagine anything worse.” She managed to choke out the words. “Jane and I and our aunt must leave at once.
” She finally turned and looked at Darcy. “Could you send a footman to retrieve my aunt and the children? Mary asks particularly that my aunt travel with Jane and me.”
“Grayson!” Darcy called.
In scarcely a moment, the butler was in the hall. “Please send a footman to find Mrs Gardiner and the children.”
“I have just seen them, sir. The phaeton is approaching on the lower river bridle path. They shall be here in a matter of minutes.”
Darcy looked at Elizabeth to see if she had heard; she nodded.
“Meet the phaeton, will you? Servants can see to the children, but you must bring Mrs Gardiner here to Miss Elizabeth. And ask Miss Jane Bennet to join us. She is in the receiving room with my sister and Mr Bingley. Thank you, Grayson.” Darcy spoke decisively, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth’s face.
“Yes, sir.” Grayson was gone in an instant.
“What has happened?” Darcy said the words again in a low voice.
Hanging her head, Elizabeth picked up the letter and handed it to him. “You and I know each other too well for me to keep this a secret, Mr Darcy. Please read it.”
Darcy took the letter. She knew he had finished when he looked at her incredulously. “I am shocked, grieved.”
“You asked me to keep your dealings with Wickham secret, and I have, but I should have spoken against him to my father when Lydia was invited to Brighton. I could have prevented this — I, who knew what he was. I warned father she was too impetuous and too young to take such a trip, but I was not explicit enough. Father would not have spread your business about, but he would have kept Lydia at home.” Elizabeth started to cry again.
Darcy laid the letter upon the table and turned away. When he could manage his anger at Wickham, he said, “This is not your fault, Miss Bennet.”
So now I am Miss Bennet again. This ends it. The love of my life ends here. Unaware of doing so, Elizabeth sank to the floor, her head resting on the barley twisted leg of the table. Her anger at her youngest sister and George Wickham, while profound, was undone by the depth of her own despair. She quietly sobbed into the handkerchief. It smelled mildly of sandalwood. It is all of him I am ever to have.
Darcy whirled around at the sound of her collapse. “Elizabeth!” He knelt next to her, taking her free hand. “This is an attack upon me by Wickham, nothing more. Surely you see that?” Her vacant nod did not reassure him. “You must not take the burden of this upon yourself. You will make yourself ill, and then what use will you be to your family? They need you.”
And you, most certainly, do not. She looked at him with abject misery and whispered brokenly, “It seems I bring nothing but vexation to you, Mr Darcy.”
His throat tightened, and he, too, could only whisper, “Elizabeth…I would not have you think so.” If only I could embrace her, I could drive away her fear, but it would be seen as taking an advantage. Even just saying her name is wrong of me. If Wickham walked through that door right now, I would cheerfully run him through.
They heard footsteps. Elizabeth looked over Darcy’s shoulder and saw Georgiana approach.
Elizabeth’s eyes were wild when they returned to Darcy. “Please do not speak of this to Georgiana,” she begged. “You must protect her from me, from my family. Take her away to her room until I am gone.”
Darcy felt his heart break. She still expects me to put my pride first, but I will not let George Wickham destroy my chance for love. Darcy inhaled and gathered himself, shaking his head. “Protect her from you? Georgiana is strong. She can help you, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth looked into his eyes. How many times must I ask his forgiveness before the well dries? She looked down. Her head ached, and her only solace was the release of tears.
“Lizzy!” Georgiana reached them, and without hesitation, knelt beside her new friend and embraced her. “Lizzy, my god! What has happened?”
Darcy stood. At least one Darcy is in a position to comfort her. Bless you, little gosling.
“Help me get her to her feet,” Georgiana ordered her brother.
Darcy bent, took Elizabeth’s arm and reached behind her back, lifting her shoulders as Georgiana assisted him.
“Georgiana…I am sorry to be so silly. I am quite ashamed of myself.”
Darcy picked up the letter. “Miss Elizabeth,” he whispered, “I must tell her if you will not.”
Elizabeth sniffed and straightened. She was clearing her throat to speak when Jane and Bingley entered the entry hall. Seeing them was another twist to her insides. Elizabeth gathered the pages of the letter and handed them to Jane. “Mr Darcy, may I speak privately to Georgiana in the drawing room?” Elizabeth asked.
“We shall all meet there, but I will await your aunt here and join you with her.”
A gasp escaped Jane as she read, and she clutched Bingley’s forearm. “Oh, my. Oh, no…” Jane sighed. She looked from Elizabeth’s tearstained face to Bingley’s concerned eyes and returned to Mary’s words.
Georgiana offered her arm to Elizabeth, and they proceeded to the drawing room ahead of the others. “Lizzy, I heard you say I should be protected from you. How can that be?”
With a deep breath, Elizabeth gathered her strength to repeat the horrible news. “It seems Mr Wickham convinced my youngest sister, who is just turned sixteen, that he wished to elope with her. Of course, he wishes nothing of the kind. They are gone to London — are quite vanished — and have not married. Now my whole family must partake of her ruin. Oh Georgiana…even a man as good as your brother could not possibly countenance this.” Elizabeth’s eyes searched Georgiana’s, fearing to witness the first signs of disapprobation and rejection. Instead, she saw concern and courage, and for the first time, she could see the strength of the brother in the set of the sister’s jaw.
“I am shocked but somehow not surprised. It seems George Wickham will try anything to insult my brother. So he heard the news from your sister that you are here and attacks us again. Fitzwilliam said he tried to make an ally of you, and in addition to punishing my brother for his very existence, he strikes at you for what he sees as a betrayal. Oh yes, I can easily guess how he thinks — wretched man.” Georgiana squared her shoulders. “What is being done?”
Elizabeth and Georgiana heard approaching voices from the hall. Darcy, Mrs Gardiner, Bingley and Jane entered the drawing room. Jane was crying quietly, but Mrs Gardiner was seething.
Elizabeth raised her voice a little so all could hear the answer to Georgiana’s question. “My father is gone to London. He and Uncle Gardiner are to begin a search, although how they are to be found and how such a man is to be worked on, I hardly know.”
Georgiana said aloud what Darcy was thinking, “Money.”
Elizabeth looked alarmed, as did Jane, and their eyes met. “We have little in the way of financial benefit to offer a man of Wickham’s vanity,” Elizabeth spoke with irritation. “One might think our circumstances would have rendered Lydia safe. To say nothing of the fact she was staying in Colonel Forster’s household. Oh, why did I not speak more forcefully to our father?” Elizabeth asked her sister.
“Because I advised you not to when you asked me, Lizzy. This is my fault,” Jane said as if it should be obvious.
Darcy quietly marvelled at the ability of the two best Bennet sisters to play tug-of-war with blame that very clearly lay with him. It was then he determined to travel to London, and he would send an express immediately to Colonel Fitzwilliam, asking him to make inquiries in Brighton and meet at Darcy House as quickly as possible. Georgiana could see her brother’s mind working and, if asked, would have explained his thoughts. Her blue eyes nodded into his brown ones, approving his unspoken plans.
“No, Jane. I did speak to our father, and I could and should have said more than I did.” A new thought occurred to Elizabeth, and tears formed in her eyes as she turned to Bingley. “Charles,” she stepped to him and took his free hand in hers. “I have no right to ask this of you, but you will honour your proposal to Jane, will you n
ot? Please do not forsake her. You have only let Netherfield and so may let another house, far away, and take her where she is not known, where her sister’s folly will not be so talked of.” Elizabeth spoke slowly, fighting tears again. “Please.”
Darcy had never felt more powerless. Had the letter arrived a few hours — or even a day — later, he, too, might be betrothed to a Bennet, and it would be his place to protect her. Elizabeth is assuming the worst of me. She assumes I will forsake her. Does she truly know me so little, or is she merely too alarmed for reason?
“Lizzy!” Both Bingley and Mrs Gardiner sought to quiet her. Bingley continued, “This nonsense of Wickham’s does not prevent our wedding, and as soon as he has been apprehended and brought to whatever justice is appropriate, I will have the honour of marrying Miss Jane Bennet. I think I have amply proven my patient devotion.” He smiled down upon Jane.
Georgiana extricated the Bennet sisters from Bingley’s arms. “Come, I will help you prepare and gather the servants we need. My maid is an excellent packer.” She looked over her shoulder at her brother. “Fitzwilliam, when I have the packing underway, I would speak with you.”
Darcy nodded absently. “Yes, Georgie, at your service.” He turned. “Mrs Gardiner, Bingley, might I have a word with you?”
Darcy’s eyes followed Elizabeth’s retreating form, his longing apparent. He hoped Elizabeth would turn back to him that he might nod encouragingly at her, but she did not. She exited the room with her head bowed, his handkerchief at her cheek. Was there any way to capture even a brief moment alone with her in the next fleeting hours as the Bennet sisters prepared to leave Pemberley?
Georgiana herded Jane and Elizabeth upstairs to their adjoining rooms, shouting orders to footmen and maids as if she were her brother. When Elizabeth and Jane’s trunks were brought and they bent to their work, Georgiana excused herself. She had a suggestion about where Darcy should begin his search.
The Red Chrysanthemum Page 16
