The Red Chrysanthemum

by Linda Beutler

  * * *

  Darcy urged Mrs Gardiner and Bingley to sit, but was himself too agitated for anything but pacing. “Mrs Gardiner, it is my intention to leave for London tomorrow and conduct my own search for Wickham. Sadly, I know him well enough to understand his ways. Lydia Bennet is not the docile little heiress about which his schemes usually pivot. To make such a grave step as to abduct her is a clear strike at me and also a certain declaration of his need to escape Brighton with debts heaped in his wake. If Lydia was in possession of sufficient pin money to afford their journey, it would have greatly enhanced her appeal, if only temporarily. When I am known to be in town, he will try to touch me for as much money as possible to buy Lydia’s reputation.

  “I also believe he feels some great defection by Miss Elizabeth and seeks to punish her. He will think if I am partial to her, the degradation of one Bennet will lower my estimation of all of them, and I will end my acquaintance with her. I fear Miss Elizabeth thinks the same.”

  Mrs Gardiner was quick to respond. “Mr Darcy, you are very kind to give such attention to a family to whom you owe nothing. If you do not involve yourself, perhaps this matter might be settled with less cost and in Lydia’s favour. Perhaps it would be more prudent of you to send what information you have as to their whereabouts to my husband rather than proceed to London yourself.”

  “I am determined, Mrs Gardiner. I will contact my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. His regiment is also in Brighton, and he can make inquiries. Indeed, if he has heard of the matter, he will be doing so already. We will then meet at Darcy House, so any negotiation with Wickham may take place with as much foreknowledge as possible. Had I followed Bingley’s excellent advice and exposed the man when he first arrived in Meryton, all this calamity would have been avoided.”

  “Mr Darcy, we must make allowances for the wickedness of Mr Wickham and the foolishness of Lydia. Let us put the responsibility where it belongs. This is their doing, not yours, sir.”

  “Of course, I cannot speak for your niece, ma’am, but I have known of Wickham’s evil temperament since we were boys. He uses his false charm to draw people in until he either finds a way they may be of use or drops them as unimportant. No, Mrs Gardiner, I must put myself forward in this. I must make right where I have been wrong.”

  Mrs Gardiner looked into his eyes, observing his disquiet. Was his love for Elizabeth so profound that he would bear these mortifications to protect her and her family from disaster? She believed it was. “You will have to make this argument again, Mr Darcy, when you meet my husband and Mr Bennet in London. If you will pardon my saying it, I believe it is your regard for Elizabeth that forms some part of your motive here, and for that, let me express my gratitude.”

  Darcy started to speak, but Mrs Gardiner put up a hand. “Do not deny it, sir. I speak as I find.”

  Darcy was silenced.

  Bingley spoke up. “How may I be of help, Darcy?”

  “Bingley, do I presume too much to ask you to ride to Hertfordshire with the ladies? I would have them travel with the security of your presence. Elizabeth and Jane can ride in your carriage, and Mrs Gardiner and the children may go in one of mine. Let it be known Miss Bennet has accepted you, and you only await the settling of Lydia’s affairs to begin your wedding plans. Jane will certainly need your support. Until matters are settled, both sisters may need some place to receive consolation, which you could provide at Netherfield.”

  Bingley nodded. “You are quite sure you will need no assistance in London?”

  “I think you will better serve the Bennets in Meryton. Let something good be said of the family, not just vile gossip, which is, no doubt, already circulating.” Darcy looked into the faces of Bingley and Mrs Gardiner. “And if you would both say nothing of my plans in London, I would be most grateful.”

  Both Bingley and Mrs Gardiner protested.

  “No, no, I must insist.” Darcy pursued his reasons aloud. “I do not wish to inspire hope as it may come to nothing. I cannot promise what may transpire with Wickham or even that I can find him. And more importantly, even should I succeed, I do not wish a certain lady’s regard to be influenced by gratitude.”

  Mrs Gardiner said only, “I understand not wishing to stir unfounded hopes. I do not understand adding gratitude to ‘a certain lady’s regard.’ I trust we shall have the opportunity to debate this further, Mr Darcy. For now, I must pack.” She smiled knowingly into Darcy’s eyes and dropped a quick curtsy, to which he responded with a respectful bow.

  “Of course, Mrs Gardiner. Eh, Bingley,” Darcy said, catching his friend’s sleeve as he seemed inclined to follow Mrs Gardiner from the room. Bingley stopped and looked questioningly at Darcy. “You should send an express with Elizabeth’s to get the servants into Netherfield. And I must ask a favour. I know Elizabeth is in a state of shock now. It had been my intention to propose to her once you and Jane were betrothed. I had even thought I might do so this afternoon. But it seems as if this catastrophe causes Elizabeth to question my regard. Could you, if the moment comes aright, perhaps let her know my feelings for her are as they have always been? I cannot imagine not loving her, Bingley. I have been at it nearly a year now and it has become my way of life. Keep me in her mind, won’t you? I shall write you often. Please let her know you are getting word from me, and that I mention her constantly, for I shall.”

  Georgiana entered the room in time to hear his last few sentences. “What nonsense you do talk! Of course she loves you.”

  “Georgie, you should know our plans. Bingley will depart today with Mrs Gardiner and the Bennets. I will leave tomorrow, so the Bennets will not know I am going to London.”

  “Mrs Younge!” Georgiana blurted and looked quite triumphant. “If you can take up her trail, I am sure she will lead you to Wickham, Brother.”

  “Of course! What a stroke of genius, Georgie! Last season, I heard she was keeping a boarding house and making every attempt at respectability. She should be easy to find.”

  “Shall I tell Jane and Elizabeth?” Bingley asked.

  “No. She has no reason to help us and may prove recalcitrant. I pray you, Bingley, let the Bennets think me here. I could not bear to engender false hope in those tender hearts. But I have a little hope myself, at least.” Darcy smiled at his sister.

  Bingley winked and nodded. “I must pack.” He left brother and sister alone.

  “Georgie, since inspiration visits you today, can you contrive a way for me to see Elizabeth alone one more time before they leave? I…I would speak with her, to let her know my regard will not falter during this calamity.”

  “She will need someplace quiet to write her express to Longbourn. I shall suggest the library. If she is found there…” Georgiana did not need to finish. Her brother thanked her.

  “Am I to accompany you to London? Since my suggestions prove of value?” Georgiana asked with enthusiasm.

  “No, gosling, you must be kept well out of this. Mrs Annesley returns in a few days, you shall not be alone for long.” Darcy’s grumpy-brother face told her not to push the point.

  “May I at least write to Elizabeth?” Georgiana asked.

  Darcy considered this and then nodded. “You overflow with fine ideas today, Georgie. Please do write to her. She will be in turmoil, and it would be a good thing to remind her of her time here and to let her know she may always come back to Pemberley. You can keep the old place alive for her.”

  “You mean I will keep you alive for her. Of course, I will. She belongs here with you. But I do not understand why you will not tell her you intend to help.”

  “Georgie, it may take a great deal of money to settle this affair. Wickham strikes at us, but money will soothe him. There will be debts to be settled and perhaps a husband to be purchased for Lydia if Wickham will not have her, for who knows what we will find when they are discovered? The Bennets and Gardiners combined would be much stretched to meet such expenses, but for you and me, it is merely an annoyance and a few less Christmas prese
nts. The harvest looks to be a good one, the sheep look well, and there are plenty of deer in the woods for our tenants, should the winter prove difficult. But I would not have a certain lady’s acceptance of me proceed from gratitude. I would not have Elizabeth think I am buying her favour along with Lydia Bennet’s reputation.”

  Georgiana mused a moment. “I have known Lizzy scarcely a fortnight, Fitzwilliam, but I believe you are in error about her feelings.”

  “I will know after I speak with her again.”

  Georgiana’s face lit up. “Will you propose?”

  “This is not a romance novel, Georgie. Now is not the time. But she needs to hear this affair is merely a trifling concern to me. It is her happiness that matters. I need to say it, to know I have said it, and hope she is not too distraught to listen.”

  * * *

  The library at Pemberley started its life as one large room with shelf-lined walls and broad windows along one side, looking into the cool forests stretching up the hills behind the manor. Stacks filled the open space. In old Mr Darcy’s time, the books then overflowed into the small sitting room adjoining the original chamber. In the current Mr Darcy’s relatively brief tenure as master, another spate of acquisition caused the library to spread further, and just the year before, modern titles insinuated themselves into a larger drawing room, which was now also lined with shelves. Taken en masse, it was quite possible for several people at a time to enter the library from any of six entrances, peruse the stacks, sit and read, write letters at one of a half dozen escritoires, and exit again without encountering one’s fellows. At this time, however, such was not likely to be the case. Darcy knew Elizabeth was there, somewhere.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy began when he found her in front of a window, writing the express to Longbourn. He did not feign surprise, but she looked at him with some amazement.

  She started to rise. “Mr Darcy!”

  “Please, do not trouble yourself.” He drew up an armchair and seated himself as she returned to a sitting position. She had been crying and looked as if, at the least agitation, she would do so again. “I will not distract you — I know you write to your family. Georgiana has told you we will write to Colonel Fitzwilliam to obtain more information if he can uncover anything we do not already know. If this concerns you, this spread of the terrible news, you must understand how the militia operates. Our cousin is a commanding officer equal to Colonel Forster. Aside from disgracing a young lady — which, sadly, soldiers sometimes do — Wickham has greatly dishonoured his commanding officer by ruining a lady of his household, and I will be very much surprised if he has not left a packet of debts of honour behind him.”

  “He is a gamester?” Elizabeth looked shocked.

  “Oh, yes, to excess. So you see, all of the highest officers at Brighton will have been informed of his actions. We will not be telling our cousin anything he does not know. We only ask him to dig deeper and present anything he learns to your father and uncle in London.” Darcy watched Elizabeth’s face.

  She nodded. “Then I thank you, sir, and Miss Darcy for your effort. Any little thing may help.” She smiled at him all too briefly.

  Darcy continued, “Georgiana has asked to be allowed to correspond with you, and of course, I approve. It is my wish that she continue to profit by her friendship with you.”

  Elizabeth was so astonished she could not speak. A tear slid down her cheek. Darcy, unthinking, gently brushed it away with his thumb, then remembered he was not connected to her in any proper way that would forbear such a liberty and withdrew his hand. “Excuse me, Miss Bennet,” he whispered. “I forget myself.”

  Elizabeth was too abashed to look away. Darcy spoke again, barely above a murmur, “You have strengthened my sister, Miss Bennet. From the time of your attendance to your sister at Netherfield, I have known your influence over Georgiana would be a welcome thing — that she would benefit from having a friend like you. Let her perform the same service for you.”

  Darcy paused and then continued in a slightly louder voice, deeply in earnest. “Elizabeth…I pray you will not let this break your spirit. You are everything a gentlewoman should be, and you will always be welcome here.”

  Elizabeth pulled Darcy’s handkerchief from her pocket. When she could, she gathered in a deep breath and replied, “Mr Darcy, these events have reminded me keenly of certain comments you made to me last April, comments about my family…what you said then and in your letter.”

  Darcy sat up straighter, his chest emptied. Elizabeth held up a hand to silence anything he might be ready to say. “Comments that, once I reflected upon them, I had to own were wholly valid. No matter Lydia’s motives or Wickham’s, she has acted in a way that brings ruin upon all of us. Let us not try to pretend otherwise.”

  This is intolerable. Darcy looked out the window. He longed to take her hand and force her to run with him through the park until all their frustrations were spent. Then they could have a reasonable conversation.

  He finally turned to her. “When matters are settled for Lydia, no matter the nature of the settlement, I am certain Georgiana will invite you to Pemberley for an uninterrupted visit. Will you come?”

  Elizabeth looked at him through a sudden flood of tears. “I cannot imagine such a time. It would be selfish of me to do so.”

  Darcy’s throat tightened, but he persisted. “When Bingley and Jane marry, they will be invited here. Will you not come, even then?”

  Why does he not speak of love? Dear Jane…will she allow herself to be happy in the midst of this misfortune? Should I? “I cannot say, Mr Darcy.”

  Damn it, man, say it. “Elizabeth. You belong here. Do not let a foolish sister and a scoundrel ruin your life. What are they to you, or to me, if you could be here?” He whispered as if praying, “Choose to love.” Darcy realised this was something like a proposal.

  Elizabeth hung her head, sobbing quietly. He does not know I love him? When she did at last look up, she met his gaze. “I must see to my family, Mr Darcy. I will never forgive myself if I do not. Surely, you know that?

  “As for love…I shall always love Pemberley and all the people in it. Tell Georgiana, I will appreciate receiving her letters with any news of this beloved place. Have her write to me through Mr Bingley, so my mother will not boast of the connection.”

  “But you will not come back?”

  “I do not know, Mr Darcy. I cannot say now. I shall always want to come back. But I will not do so if it brings dishonour upon what I love.” Elizabeth stood abruptly. Darcy stood as well. She briskly folded the letter to Longbourn and handed it to him. “Please see that it is posted?”

  Darcy nodded dumbly, and she was gone, leaving behind only the scent of lavender.

  * * *

  When Elizabeth started to cross the entry hall on her way to the stillroom, her Aunt Gardiner’s voice gently hailed her from the stairs. “Oh, Lizzy! I was just looking for you. Is the letter written?”

  “Yes, Aunt. Mr Darcy has it, and it will be sent as soon as the footman reaches Lambton.”

  “It is taking us some time to get the children organised. Can you perhaps distract them while Jane and the maids and I gather their things? How can they have made such a commotion? They have only been here one night!”

  “I was just going to the stillroom to make sure I have left nothing behind, and then I shall come directly. Entertaining the children will be a pleasant diversion for me.”

  “Lovely, dear. Thank you.” Her aunt nodded and turned to climb the stairs.

  Elizabeth stepped into the stillroom, which had not been entered by anyone since the day she had created Georgiana’s scent. It was still tidy, although a new layer of dust was beginning to form. She was relieved to see the little stack of cards, pen and ink remained upon the narrow counter on the far wall as she took a bottle of lavender water from her pocket. She brought two for the journey and one was still sealed. As she was packing, she decided to leave a bottle of her scent for him. Even in her pres
ent confusion, it was something she was compelled to do.

  She looked around. It was another summery day and the sunlight warmed the air, which had taken on the scents of many flowers combined into a fragrance unique to the room. Elizabeth smiled a little, seeing her careful writing on the labels of bottles in the glass-fronted cupboards. She had been happy here in the stillroom, creating a scent for Georgiana, pondering the implications of the nosegay from Mr Darcy — letting herself hope. Organising the disorder, she felt a part of the big machine that was Pemberley.

  Elizabeth shook her head. Yes, he still loves me in his way. He loves the idea he has of me, for he does not really know any true good of me. And what would our life be like here if we could never leave? Other than Jane, my family could never visit. Would he know any of them in London? I cannot imagine his visiting Longbourn ever again, not even for me — not with Wickham attached to my family.

  She stepped around the end of the large worktable and happened to glance at the floor. There, shrivelled and faded, lay the remains of the red chrysanthemum. Her eyes instantly began to blink. Oh great god! He does not know. He truly does not know. The stem was too short. He does not know…I love him, and he does not know it. He must think I am heartless. She picked up the tiny blossom with its insufficient stem. Placing it carefully upon the table with the lavender water, she selected two cards. Sitting at the worktable, she wrote the first:

  “Dear Mr Darcy,

  “You are fond of lavender. This is not rosemary for remembrance, but I trust it will remind you of me just the same. Thank you for allowing me to spend the happiest hours of my life in the Pemberley stillroom.

  “E. Bennet”

  Elizabeth leaned the card against the bottle and wrote the second:

  “Here lie the remains of a red chrysanthemum, dislodged from a nosegay for F. Darcy, given to him by E. Bennet.”