A Case of Some Delicacy

by K C Kahler

  He tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Shh. You were very brave, Liddy. Very brave.”

  Lydia’s heart pounded in her chest again, but this time it was rather…different.

  “Lydia! Lydia!” Elizabeth called frantically from the road.

  Lydia sank down onto a fallen log. She dreaded having to explain how she had spoiled everything. She had come into the woods with Mr Wickham for the sole purpose of ruining her sister’s happiness. And now she had ruined all of her sisters’ futures. How could any of them forgive her? How could she forgive herself?

  Mr Darcy dismounted and eased Elizabeth down. They left the road, making their way through trees and bushes. Elizabeth caught a glimpse of John. “There!” she pointed.

  She was puzzled by the scene before her. John stood while another man—an officer from the look of his mud-covered coat—lay in a heap to one side. To John’s other side, Lydia sat on a log. Her dress was muddied to her knees, and even one of her coat sleeves was dirtied to the elbow. She had a puffy scratch on one cheek, and she had clearly been crying. “Liddy?” Elizabeth said as she went to her.

  “Oh Lizzy!” Lydia sobbed into Elizabeth’s coat.

  “What has happened?”

  She had trouble making out the words, but Lydia repeated them over and over. “I have ruined everything. I am so sorry.”

  Elizabeth looked towards John. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “I heard screaming and followed it. Lydia was running towards the road quite distraught, chased by Wickham.” He pointed towards the heap of redcoat and then ground out, “He tried to force himself on her. But she got away on her own, thank God.”

  Elizabeth held Lydia tighter. “But why would he do such a thing? Did he not expect her family, her friends, to retaliate?”

  John shook his head while Lydia cried, “It is my fault!”

  “This cannot possibly be your fault, Liddy.”

  She wiped her face, composing herself as best she could. “It is. You will hate me when I tell you. You will all hate me.”

  “Impossible. I could never hate you.” Elizabeth gave her a tender smile. “Just please tell me what happened.”

  Lydia looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers. “I followed you from the house to…to confront you about Mr Darcy.”

  “I never meant to deceive you.”

  Lydia shook her head, still refusing to look up. “When I caught up to you, you were with Mr Darcy, and he was…I saw him propose. I turned around to go home, angry and jealous. Then Mr Wickham was there on the road. He saw I was upset and offered to walk me home. I was only too happy to share my troubles, and when he heard that Mr Darcy proposed to you, he said…he said—”

  Mr Darcy interrupted. “You need not say any more, Miss Lydia. Clearly, this is my fault. He dragged you off the road when he knew hurting you would hurt me. I ought to have dealt with him long ago.”

  “He did not drag me,” Lydia whispered. “I went with him! I was so stupid! How can any of you forgive me?”

  Elizabeth rubbed her back. “But why did you go with him?”

  “He said he knew a way…a way to prevent Mr Darcy from marrying you. He would explain in a more private setting. First he said we should elope, but when I refused, he…” She shook her head, hardly able to speak. “He meant to ruin all of us by compromising me. Through me, he would have his revenge.”

  Elizabeth was horrified. “Is that what he said to you when he…when you were alone with him?”

  She nodded. “He said he would avenge himself on Mr Darcy.”

  “Oh Lydia, you were very foolish, but angry people are not always wise. This is my fault for not telling you what I knew of Mr Wickham.”

  Lydia finally met Elizabeth’s eyes. “How can you say that when I have brought ruin upon us all purely out of a bitter, selfish desire to hurt you and Mr Darcy?” She began to sob again, and Elizabeth embraced her, murmuring words of comfort.

  “If you are all done blaming yourselves for Wickham’s actions,” John said, “it is time we deal with Mr Wickham himself. He stirs.”

  Mr Wickham rubbed his jaw. He eyed John warily before turning to Mr Darcy. “If circumstances were different, I might wish you joy, Darcy. ‘Tis a pity about the Bennets. All those lovely young ladies left unmarried. No one will have them after hearing of Miss Lydia’s wanton behaviour.”

  John struck him in the face, and Elizabeth never thought she would be so pleased to see violence done to another human being. Mr Wickham groaned and struggled to rise again.

  “Lucas, I ask that you refrain from hitting him,” Mr Darcy said. Elizabeth recognised his controlled exterior for what it was: a façade.

  “Oh, sorry.” John did not sound the least bit sorry. “I will let you hit him the next time.”

  “I shall look forward to it, but right now, I need him coherent. Mr Wickham and I have matters to discuss.”

  Mr Wickham pulled himself upright once more and tried to wipe the dirt from his clothing. “I would much rather deal with you, Darcy. At least you are reasonable. This one”—he indicated John—“is more like that hot-headed cousin of yours.” He gave up his fruitless efforts at making himself presentable. “I had meant to simply ruin your happiness by making marriage to Miss Elizabeth impossible, but now I see another option. Do you care to hear it?”

  “Tread carefully, Wickham, or you may find me rather more like Mr Lucas.”

  Mr Wickham smirked. “I am very fond of Miss Lydia’s pluck. I might be willing to marry her, given the right financial inducement.”

  Lydia shuddered in Elizabeth’s arms.

  “Think of it. You could still marry where you wish, old friend. We will be brothers.”

  “You cannot seriously consider this!” John spoke what Elizabeth was thinking.

  Mr Wickham glanced over at Lydia and Elizabeth, leering. “I shall be very happy to become better acquainted with all my new sisters, including the future Mrs Darcy.”

  John moved in to punch Wickham again, but Mr Darcy was faster, hitting him in the gut. Mr Wickham doubled over, choking out, “And let us not forget dear Georgiana—she always was affectionate and pleasing and extremely fond of me.”

  John spoke to Mr Darcy, “Enough of this nonsense. I do not know what is between you two, but I will marry Lydia myself before I let that blackguard near her!” Lydia went very still.

  John added angrily, “I call you out, Wickham.”

  “No!” Lydia gasped. “If anything happens to John because of me…!” She looked anxiously at her sister. “Lizzy, Mr Darcy, do not let him do this!”

  “I can certainly best this poor excuse for a man,” John sneered.

  Mr Darcy stared icily at Mr Wickham. “You have gone too far. The time has come for a more permanent solution to your long perfidy. It is time I demanded repayment for purchasing all the debts you left in Lambton. I am the only reason you have not been hounded by debt collectors.”

  Mr Wickham became a bit less complacent. “Do not be a fool. Do you really wish to lose your chance at happiness? I shall ruin the Bennets, and while I am at it, I shall ruin Georgiana. I shall have my revenge.”

  Mr Darcy clenched his fists but spoke calmly. “You must owe quite a few tradesmen in Meryton as well. Perhaps I shall settle your debts with them. I imagine the total will be several hundred pounds when all is done. You remember my uncle, the judge, do you not?”

  Mr Wickham laughed nervously. “You always were a good mathematician, but you are forgetting the matter of Miss Lydia’s reputation. Threatening me with debtor’s prison certainly will not persuade me to keep quiet.”

  Lydia shook off Elizabeth’s arms and approached him. “But who will believe you over the four of us, especially when you are rotting in prison?”

  “It will merely take a hint, a suggestion, of scandal to throw suspicion upon your family, you little chit,” he spat.

  She kicked him in the shin. “That’s for making me get mud all over my dress!”
/>   While Mr Darcy roughly restrained Mr Wickham, John chuckled and pulled Lydia back towards Elizabeth. “My favourite imp is recovering her spirits already.”

  “I have made my decision, Wickham,” Mr Darcy said with finality. “Now, I will leave you in Mr Lucas’s capable hands for a few hours while I visit the shopkeepers in Meryton.”

  John grinned. “I find myself at leisure this afternoon.”

  Mr Wickham lost all his smugness. “Wait, Darcy. I see I have pushed you to your limit. But think of the Bennets. You have the power to keep that family’s reputation unblemished. If you send me to America, rather than to debtor’s prison, I promise not to utter one word defaming Miss Lydia.”

  “No!” John said vehemently. “He is barely held in check by society now. I have seen what men like him are capable of when unleashed in the New World.”

  Mr Darcy considered. “Mr Lucas is correct.”

  “Then I will be sure to give a very detailed account of my time alone with Miss Lydia. I will even embellish it, for who can really know the truth of such private encounters?”

  John was about to hit him again, but Mr Darcy held up his hand. “I do have something to offer you, Wickham. Do you care to hear it?”

  After receiving no reply, he explained. “As your principal creditor, I shall have considerable influence on where you will be sent and the conditions under which you will be held. Certainly you have heard some of the more harrowing accounts of foul, crowded cells shared with violent criminals. You might buy yourself some comfort and some safety with your silence.”

  Mr Wickham swallowed as Mr Darcy leaned towards him. “If I hear one word from anyone against Miss Lydia’s reputation, or any of her sisters—or my sister, or Mr Lucas' sisters—I shall ensure you are kept in the vilest conditions imaginable. Even if I must bribe the prison guards, I shall spare no expense. You will pray for some disease to take you, rather than spend your days in pain and filth. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, all hints of overconfidence and belligerence gone.

  “Mr Lucas, will you help me escort Mr Wickham to Colonel Forster?”

  John slapped his back. “Most happily. I like your methods more and more, Darcy.” Then he turned to Mr Wickham, saying jovially, “Come along, I will tie you to my horse.”

  Mr Darcy went to Elizabeth and Lydia, his mask giving way to open concern and remorse as he approached. “How can I ever atone for what you have endured, Miss Lydia?”

  Lydia gaped. “I…it was not your fault. Can you forgive my stupid, selfish actions, which nearly cost you your happiness?”

  “I could hardly blame you for being ignorant of his true character. I should have warned the good people of Meryton rather than let Wickham move like a wolf amongst you.”

  Elizabeth interjected, “You two will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to this afternoon. I must have my part too.” They both smiled at her weakly. “Oh Liddy, are you quite well?”

  “I am well. But we must invent some excuse for my appearance.”

  “The truth is excuse enough. We shall all dote on you for weeks, especially Mama.”

  “No! I do not wish anyone else to know!” She looked intently between Elizabeth and Mr Darcy. “I cannot expect Mama to keep such a secret. She would not mean to tell anyone; she just cannot help herself. And I would rather Jane, Mary, and Kitty not know of such things. There’s no need to spoil their…to worry them so. Please, do not tell them.”

  “Of course; I shall do as you wish. And Mr Darcy and John can be trusted with any secret.” She and Mr Darcy exchanged a look. “Only we four shall know.”

  Lydia nodded, relieved. “May I be the first to wish you joy, then?”

  “I think you might justly hate me instead.”

  “No. I was as blind as Kitty to not have seen the truth sooner. Besides, catching Mr Darcy for a brother is even better than catching him for a husband. I may play cricket with him and dance with him, but I will not be expected to read so many books.”

  Elizabeth hugged her. “Thank you, Liddy. You are remarkably gracious.”

  “Even I must improve under such influence as you and Jane.”

  “You may depend upon me asking for a dance any time the chance arises, Miss Lydia.”

  “I shall hold you to that. And you, Lizzy, owe me a story—a love story.”

  “I owe all my sisters a full explanation. But let us get you home and out of the cold.”

  They made their way to the road where John waited with the horses and a subdued Mr Wickham. “Lizzy, Mr Bingley gave me this note for Jane. You had best take it. I have a full afternoon ahead of me.” He indicated Wickham.

  “Oh! Mr Darcy is not shot!” Lydia exclaimed.

  Mr Darcy smiled, “No, I am not. Your sister will explain everything to you.” When he turned his gaze to her, Elizabeth’s breath hitched.

  Lydia moved several steps away, in the direction of Longbourn, giving the couple some privacy. Mr Darcy took immediate advantage.

  “I fear I shall not see you again today, as I have much to accomplish.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “You were magnificent. But do not forget your aunt and cousin in all this unpleasant business. They have had a dreadful fright today. Shall I see you tomorrow?”

  “Do you really need to ask? I am extremely eager to speak to your father and just as eager to see you again.” He leaned in close. “I love you, dearest Elizabeth.”

  “And I love you, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth’s heart overflowed with love and admiration. She tried to think rationally. “Take your gloves back; you need them more than I.”

  “But you must walk home in the cold.”

  “It is not far. You must resume carrying your spare pair from now on.”

  “There is much I shall resume,” he said in a low voice that made her tingle all over. She was caught in the intensity of his gaze before he broke it to take the gloves. He pulled one on. Then, with his bare hand, he took her hand in his. “Until tomorrow.” He kissed her hand, then turned towards the waiting horses.

  “Come on, Lizzy,” Lydia said. “We must come up with a plausible explanation for my appearance.”

  * * *

  Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia hung on Elizabeth’s every word. She had finally confessed everything to them, beginning with the picnic. Jane already knew most of it, but today’s events were new even to her. “Then he kneeled down—”

  “In the mud!?” Kitty asked from her bed, shared with Mary and Jane.

  “Yes, one knee right in the mud. I saw this part,” bragged Lydia, who was sharing her bed with Elizabeth. “He said, ‘Elizabeth June Bennet, I love you. Nothing would make me happier than spending the rest of my days with you. Will you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?’”

  “How did he know your middle name?” Mary asked. Elizabeth could not remember how he had learned it. She certainly never told him.

  “That’s all you have to say after hearing such a declaration?” an incredulous Kitty asked of Mary.

  Mary shrugged. “No one ever uses Elizabeth’s middle name.”

  Kitty turned back to Elizabeth. “And you accepted him.”

  Elizabeth could not keep herself from beaming. “I accepted.”

  “Then what happened? Is that when Lydia fell in the mud? Why did he not come to speak with Papa immediately? Did he kiss you?” Kitty had too many questions to wait for any answers.

  Elizabeth felt Lydia stiffen beside her. “We agreed he ought to return to Netherfield to set his family at ease.”

  “But Mr Darcy will come tomorrow?” Kitty asked.

  “Yes, he will.”

  “Oh, Lizzy, it is a wonderful story. Probably your best story ever, yet you cannot share it with many people. What a pity.”

  “But I can share it with you, which is what matters most. It is an enormous relief not to keep secrets from my dear sisters any longer. I am truly sorry for deceiving all of you.”

  “I am more than willing to for
give you if I may accompany you when you shop for your trousseau!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “For Kitty, forgiveness is obtained through fashion. How shall I get back into my other sisters’ good graces? I know Jane can never be angry with me; what about you two?”

  “I wish to shop with you as well,” Lydia said.

  “And so you will. The poor modiste will have no idea what she is getting into. Mary, what say you?”

  “I have no need to shop with you, but I shall think of something else.”

  “Very well, I am at your disposal. Now, it is time to sleep.”

  Jane and Mary extracted themselves from Kitty’s bed, hugging themselves against the cold. With a parting “good night,” they disappeared out the door.

  Elizabeth bid good night to Kitty then turned to Lydia, whispering, “Good night, Liddy. Sleep well.” She kissed her brow.

  Lydia embraced her tightly. “Good night.”

  Elizabeth shut the door to Kitty and Lydia’s room and snuck across the hall to her own. She doubted she would be able to find slumber easily. Her emotions today had gone from the depths of despair to the pinnacle of elation. Mr Darcy was well and unharmed, and he loved her. They were engaged!

  But then there was fear and worry over Lydia. Elizabeth had never seen her youngest sister so distressed yet so reluctant to show it. Usually, when Lydia suffered some injury or insult—or merely an inconvenience—everyone heard about it, whether they wished to or not. They could not be expected to offer sympathy and attention if they were ignorant of her troubles, after all.

  But today, Lydia had insisted that everyone remain ignorant of what happened with Mr Wickham. Even Elizabeth did not know exactly, though she could guess in generalities. Lydia’s appearance and demeanour were telling, especially after Elizabeth’s own experience alone with a man in the woods. What a contrast her first kiss must have been to poor Lydia’s frightening ordeal.

  “Lizzy? Are you asleep?” Lydia’s whisper broke the stillness of Elizabeth’s bedroom.

  “No.”

  “I cannot sleep either. May I stay with you?”

  “Of course.” Elizabeth gasped at the cold blast of air as her sister pulled back the covers.