by A V Knight
Charlotte had expected no word from the Bennet household until Lydia and Wickham were well on their way north, and perhaps not for days afterwards so Elizabeth might recuperate from their nonsense before she sought company. However, scarcely a few days into the visit Elizabeth arrived at Lucas Lodge, nearly vibrating with the urge to speak. It was an expression all the residents of the house were familiar with, though perhaps never seen before with such intensity.
Without prompting, Elizabeth led Charlotte to the privacy of the sitting room they preferred for sharing secrets. Of course, the moment they settled into chairs Elizabeth bit her lip and said not a thing.
“Are you well, Eliza?”
“Perfectly well Charlotte, thank you.”
Elizabeth focused entirely on the carpet before her feet and Charlotte tried again. “And your family, are they all still well?”
“Yes, they are all as well as to be expected considering the circumstances, likely more well than we deserve.”
“Would you like me to continue asking aimless questions?”
“Mr. Darcy was at Lydia’s wedding,” Elizabeth spilled out.
“Mr. Darcy!”
“Lydia accidentally mentioned that he arrived with Wickham and stayed for the entire affair.”
“But, Mr. Darcy?”
“That’s precisely what I said! According to Lydia, he arrived with Wickham, but then she stopped herself and declared she wasn’t supposed to say a word about it. Sweet Jane urged her not to say another word on the subject and we wouldn’t ask any questions.”
“And you kept to that promise?”
“I couldn’t give Lydia the satisfaction of asking, especially when it was so obvious that she enjoyed lording her knowledge over us. I wrote to my Aunt Gardiner to discover the pariculars of his presence there instead.”
“I assume from your excitement that she has replied?”
“She has, and I would discuss these strange circumstances with you. It seems that on the day my aunt returned to London, Mr. Darcy arrived at Gracechurch Street to call upon my uncle. They were shut up together for several hours. Mr. Darcy informed my uncle that he had found Lydia and Wickham and spoken with them both. As near as my aunt can tell, he left Derbyshire the day after we did and came to town with the express purpose of finding the pair. He believed that his silence on the matter of Wickham was what had allowed him to lead Lydia astray and that it was his duty to step forward and find a remedy to the evils he believed he had brought about. Also, he considered himself in a far better position to know of Wickham’s potential connections than almost anyone else.”
Elizabeth paused for a long moment before she explained that the governess who had all but delivered Miss Georgiana into Wickham’s clutches at Ramsgate now let lodgings in town and could be relied upon to know of his whereabouts.
“I suppose that it took Mr. Darcy some time and bribery to secure such knowledge from her?”
“No, apparently the matter was quickly settled between them and after only one meeting did he obtain their direction.”
“She must not have been a very good confidant then.”
“I imagine that if the circumstances were different Mr. Darcy would have had to rely on other means to secure the information, for according to my aunt the lady had been most helpful to Wickham in securing him his lodgings and would have allowed him to board in one of her own rooms if there had been space. No, the ease of the information was due less to her own unfaithfulness and more to Mr. Darcy’s company.”
“He can’t have taken Bingley with him on such an endeavor, he would be worse than—” the truth of it struck Charlotte immediately. “Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Elizabeth nodded. “My aunt spoke with him for a few minutes at the wedding and he mentioned that he was no friend of Wickham’s, but a cousin who Darcy had sought out for help in the matter. And help he did. It appeared to my aunt that Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were a united front throughout the whole. Apparently, the only reason he wasn’t with Mr. Darcy for the discussion with my uncle was that they didn’t trust Wickham not to run if they left him alone. Mr. Darcy called on my uncle the night before their meeting and found that my father was still present but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as my uncle and postponed seeing him until after my father departed.
“According to my aunt, my uncle would have willingly settled the whole, but Mr. Darcy would let nothing be done that he and the Colonel did not do themselves. As far as I can tell, Mr. Darcy handled the expense of the entire thing and the Colonel handled the will of it, forcing Wickham to accept a marriage that he thought he might be free of if he slipped off to another country. But my uncle was convinced and the wedding commenced. She said that after Wickham and Lydia were away to Longbourn Mr. Darcy and the Colonel were invited to dinner, but only Mr. Darcy was able to attend, the Colonel having been too long away from his regiment.”
“I suppose your aunt has made all the insinuations that I might ever do so about why Mr. Darcy found himself so motivated to treat with Wickham and save Lydia and all her near relations from such disgrace?”
Elizabeth flushed. “He gave a perfectly reasonable explanation for his interference. It is practical that he should feel he had been wrong and had the means of remedying the situation.” Charlotte just raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I perhaps could concede that any remaining partiality for me might have assisted him along, but it could hardly be his sole concern.”
“Perhaps not hardly, but certainly more than the passing concern you give it credit for being.”
Elizabeth leapt to her feet. “It is, Charlotte. And Mr. Darcy’s motivations for doing us this act of unrepayable kindness are not what I came here to discuss.”
“Unrepayable kindness?”
“Charlotte!”
“I apologize, Lizzy, I’ll stop teasing you. Now sit back down and tell me what brought you here.”
Sit Elizabeth did, though she held her breath for a long moment and look Charlotte’s hand before asking, “Will you tell me of Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
Charlotte flinched out of Elizabeth’s hold “There is nothing to tell.”
“There is. I see better now what I didn’t when we were at Rosings. I failed you utterly, both in what you asked me to do regarding Mr. Collins and what I ought to have done about the Colonel.”
“Lizzy, you didn’t realize that you were halfway in love with Mr. Darcy even then, I didn’t expect you to notice anything about my feelings.”
“I was not!”
“You complained about him joining you on walks, yet never changed your route. You complained about how he wouldn’t stop talking to you at meals, yet never struck up a conversation with anyone else so he couldn’t. If he hadn’t had a thing to do with Jane’s unhappiness and if we had been there a week more I imagine that you would’ve accepted him.”
Elizabeth bit back the instinctive urge to deny what they both knew would be a lie. “Perhaps I might have, but it is better this way. If I had accepted him at Rosings then this whole affair would not have happened and I would never respect him as I do now. I grieve over every ungracious sensation I have ever encouraged and every saucy speech I directed towards him. I have been humbled by the courtesy he has shown me and my family. But more importantly, I am proud of him; proud that in a cause of compassion and honor he was able to get the better of himself.”
“It is better to be proud of him than to be his wife?”
“Oh Charlotte, you know the answer to that. I imagine it is precisely the decision you made yourself.”
Charlotte swallowed back the urge to cry. “We would’ve hated one another within the month.”
“And I would never have been so fond of him as I am now if he had done all this for Mrs. Darcy instead of on behalf of Miss Bennet.”
Charlotte did not declare that despite Elizabeth’s beliefs to the contrary, she still wished her all the joy in the world
on what she was sure would be upcoming nuptials. That Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were immediately back in the neighborhood was gossip Charlotte was not at all surprised to hear. However, that it took quite so long to hear of Jane’s engagement to Mr. Bingley was a bit unexpected, though perhaps not so much when one considered the sweetness of Mr. Bingley’s character. The poor man was probably debating with himself whether he ought to begin their romance again to redeem Jane’s trust.
Charlotte imagined that it was only the desire to keep from accidentally offending Elizabeth’s sensibilities on the matter of Jane that kept Mr. Darcy from proposing straight away. Though, after Maria narrated to her what she had heard of Lady Catherine’s unexpected and abrupt visit to the Bennets, Charlotte suspected the proposal would not be long in coming at all.
She could have done with it taking slightly longer, though. Perhaps just long enough that Elizabeth did not arrive with most of the Bennet family on the Lucases front porch—Elizabeth’s soon to be brother-in-law and Mr. Darcy included—with a glow that gave their engagement away even more than Mr. Darcy’s almost smile.
Elizabeth bit her lip to keep herself from spilling the secret all over the assembled Lucas family. She cast a nearly desperate look at Charlotte and despite the slight rudeness, Charlotte declared that since it was such a beautiful day she wondered if any of them might like to continue their walk. Elizabeth and Mr. Bingley immediately agreed. Kitty complained about being exhausted, keeping the younger Lucas sisters behind with her. Charlotte begged a moment to gather her shawl and left them to her father’s pleasantries.
Charlotte didn’t rush up the stairs. She stopped long enough to fix Lucy’s braid, and to remind Thomas that whatever experiment he was about to conduct probably needed supervision from William, while William himself was busy fussing with his hair before being seen by Kitty. Charlotte shut the door to her room behind her and then collapsed against it, letting the wood hold her weight as she fought to keep her knees steady.
She hissed in long, slow breaths, forcing her way through the little hitches in her breathing before they could become sobs. It took her longer than it should have to brace against the door and force herself back to her feet, but she made it just far enough to drag the edge of her bedcovers up to her face and dab away at the tears she could feel gathering at the corners of her eyes. Too much pressure would redden her eyes and then she might as well cry because that would give her grief away. With sheer force of will, Charlotte straightened her spine and the sheets, forcing her misery under control only for the sorrow to catch her by the heart and squeeze.
Charlotte held her breath and swallowed back the howl clogging her throat. She forced her face into a smile that she knew was still and disingenuous, but it was difficult to cry when there was a smile on your face, no matter how terrible a rictus it might be.
Charlotte wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and made her way down the stairs with the same unruffled pace as before and met Elizabeth with all the pleased serenity she could affect. Elizabeth suspected, of course, but she would not be so cruel as to point it out, and Charlotte was not so selfish as to let her grief infringe any more than slightly on Elizabeth’s joy. She supposed that given the situation, Lizzy could forgive her for it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
For the Lucas family, the days since the Bennet girls announced their engagements were spent largely at home. Mrs. Bennet had their house in an uproar of preparations and desire that the entire family should spend as much time with the gentlemen as possible, but even if she had not, Henrietta had confessed to Charlotte that Mary’s complaints and Kitty’s sighs were becoming bothersome. The girls accepted their friends’ inadvertent shunning with gratitude and took it as a chance to make up for all the time where Charlotte had been a necessity to their neighbor’s house.
That particular afternoon, Charlotte was using Henrietta’s hair to try and replicate the style Lydia had worn her last night at Longbourn. Maria watched in fascination at what they assumed was London fashion, while Mrs. Lucas looked up from her darning every few stitches to make suggestions. In some other part of the house, they could hear William shouting at Thomas and Lucy, followed by the cackle of their younger siblings.
The perfect moment of domestic bliss interrupted by Mr. Lucas. He came into the room, furrowed brow not by the charming picture of his children, but by the letter in his hand.
“Darling?” Mrs. Lucas put aside her needles.
“Charlotte?” Her poor father sounded so confused that Charlotte let Henrietta’s thick hair fall from her fingers and went to him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mr. Collins has written.”
Charlotte’s heart stuttered in her chest. She had not replied to the man’s last, offensive letter and it was impossible that he would have the stupidity to write to her father with the same message. It was impossible. “Oh?”
Her voice sounded wrong, and every member of the family knew it. Her father looked up from the letter to focus on her in puzzlement that she might already know what the missive contained. Henrietta popped up beside Charlotte, uncaring about the hair half-tumbling into her face. “What could that odd man possibly want, father?”
“He’s not odd,” Mr. Lucas objected, though not with the same vehemence as he would have done months ago.
“But what did he write about, father?” Maria asked.
“Most of it is the polite pleasantries I would expect from Mr. Collins, wishing us all good health and informing me about that Lady Catherine is doing quite well.” Charlotte could just imagine what complaints were lurking in the pause her father put between Lady Catherine’s name and her current state of affairs. Lady Catherine had to be furious about Mr. Darcy’s engagement and if Mr. Collins had been to blame for Mr. Darcy taking Elizabeth for a walk, the consequences for that walk leading to an engagement must be dire.
“The man also explains that while Lady Catherine does not believe she will be able to come for the wedding, he will be attending.”
“That’s not so strange.” Henrietta pointed out, the question as to what had their father coming in here so confused left unstated.
“Yes, well, he said he would be thrilled to renew our acquaintance, which I expected, but he also said that he was particularly looking forward to renewing the acquaintance of my charming eldest daughter, which I did not expect. Charlotte?”
Charlotte froze. She did not make it a habit of lying to her parents. Certain uncomfortable truths withheld, yes, but outright lying, no.
“Charlotte?” Her father asked again, this time with a strange note of what Charlotte was tempted to call panic.
Before Charlotte could find something to say, the strangest part of the conversation occurred as Maria answered. “What a wretched man!” The whole room turned to her, for such outbursts never came from their sweetest sibling. “After Charlotte was good enough to accompany Miss Elizabeth to Kent so he might try and win her even after we all knew that she would never agree to marry him, and now that Miss Elizabeth is engaged he’s pretending like he wanted our Charlotte all along! This is terrible, father!”
Henrietta leapt upon the justification. “What ungentlemanly conduct! And to try and declare his affection for Charlotte through a letter? What sort of man would do such a thing? Especially after such a proposal to Charlotte’s best friend!”
“This is awful behavior!” Maria cried.
“As though Charlotte would entertain a man who fancied himself in love with Miss Elizabeth only to turn his affections the moment he discovers she is engaged. Charlotte would never tolerate such fickleness.” Henrietta added.
Mr. Lucas raised his hand to forestall any more of his daughters’ objections. “You’re right. This would all be terribly ungentlemanly behavior on Mr. Collins’ part, and when he comes for the wedding I will make clear to him that any affection he has for Charlotte should have first been conveyed to her instead of to me. And it certainly shouldn’t have come in a letter with su
ch suspicious timing,” he added when it looked as though Henrietta was ready to shout again. “However, Charlotte I must ask, do you believe that Mr. Collins might have some reason to believe that he has made any affections known for you?”
“Of course not!” Henrietta objected.
“Charlotte would have told us if he had, father,” Maria said, believing every word.
Charlotte took each of her sisters by the hand and stilled them with a squeeze. “Looking back I can see words that he might have considered affection, yes. However,” she pressed on against Maria’s wounded frown and Henrietta’s disappointed furrow, “I did not take it as such. He spent the majority of his time when we were at Rosings with Lady Catherine, going about his business as though we were not there. The few times we did speak, we were in Elizabeth’s presence and he seemed more concerned with pointing out all the benefits of his life to her than extolling their virtue to me. In plainest truth father, I’m still not entirely sure why he invited us to Kent at all.”
No word of it was a lie, and that stung Charlotte’s pride. Whatever Mr. Collins might have implied to her each time they were separated, those words were unsupported by the man’s actions. Even then, his words of ‘affection’—for all she might have considered them such at the time—were nothing but words of convenience. Mr. Collins did not love Charlotte. He didn’t even respect her. But he valued that she was a woman in such circumstances that she might tell him yes without the ideal of love or the necessity of respect.
Bur with a sister pressed against each side and her father’s palm cupped against her cheek, Charlotte could endure. Although, when her mother came up behind and wrapped her arms around Charlotte, she slipped into tears. “Oh, Lotte, I’m so sorry.” Mr. Lucas dragged the five of them into a hug, Charlotte at the center. What each of them suspected about the events lurking behind Charlotte’s eyes, they did not ask. It was done, and their affection was enough.
