by J P Christy
“I grant that can I scarcely recall George Wickham from my days in Lambton; he was in his teens when I left to marry your Uncle Timothy. But his desertion from the militia and his unpaid debts do not recommend him. More importantly, your behavior puts you at odds with your family over a man who is not even here! Were he to reappear, I doubt he would be welcomed in the neighborhood.”
Furious, Lydia flounced away.
≈≈≈
June 29, 1811
At the urging of the Darcys and the Bennets, the Gardiners remained at Netherfield until Saturday. By then, the oldest of the two Gardiner boys (Geoffrey, aged four) was quite smitten with Georgiana and found consolation only in her promise to visit him as soon as she returned to London.
Early on Saturday afternoon, Collins visited Longbourn without Charlotte, but Mrs. Bennet sent him away after a tense, quarter-hour of sitting in the parlor. She also refused his request to see Mr. Bennet, insisting that although her husband was nearly as well as he had ever been, he needed his rest. Just as Collins was leaving, the Gardiners arrived to farewell the family, and the parson watched resentfully as they received a warm welcome.
≈≈≈
When the De Bourgh ladies reached London late on Saturday afternoon, Anne was eager to see her dear companion. On the previous Tuesday when she was told of the altered travel plans, Anne was surprised but not concerned. However, upon discovering that Mrs. Jenkinson was not at De Bourgh House, she felt a sickening fear rush through her. With increasing desperation, Anne quizzed various servants; her sense of foreboding increased as each servant refused to meet her gaze after acknowledging that Mrs. Jenkins had been there but had left.
When Anne was certain Lady Catherine was occupied in her own suite, Anne searched out Mrs. Peake. Without preamble, she asked quietly, “Where has Mrs. Jenkinson gone?”
After confirming they could not be overheard, the housekeeper said, “Your mother’s letter told me to dismiss her, which I did on Thursday. The lady took a coach to her brother’s home in Brighton. She said to tell you she will always be your friend—but if her ladyship knows I told you this, I will be sacked, too.”
“I will not betray you.”
“I sent her off with a good basket of food,” Mrs. Peake said, hoping the news gave some comfort.
Anne hurried to her suite and found her maid unpacking her gowns. “Leave that for later, please. I wish to rest.” After locking her door when the maid left, Anne began sorting through her trunks to find the sachets, a dozen in all. These were the last things dear Nora had touched, so Anne wanted them near. Piling the little lavender-filled bags on the bed, she lay beside them, running her fingers over them and enjoying their delicate scent. This was how she discovered the sachet containing the locket with Mrs. Jenkinson’s note. It read only,
“C has sent me ahead to London. Something is afoot. Be careful.”
Anger made Anne bold. Moments later, she was at the door of her mother’s suite. “Mama, where is Mrs. Jenkinson?” Scowling, Lady Catherine glanced at her maid to remind her daughter, Not in front of the servants. Anne said, “Webley, kindly leave us so Mama and I may speak privately.”
The maid looked at Lady Catherine, who nodded reluctantly and said, “Return in exactly half an hour.” Webley left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Well?” Lady Catherine said.
“My question has not changed. Where is Mrs. Jenkinson?”
“She gave notice and left. She said London does not suit her.”
“I do not believe you.”
These were five words Lady Catherine had never expected to hear from her daughter. “How dare you!”
“No, Mama, how dare you?”
“Insolent girl! I generously gave Mrs. Jenkinson her salary and a character. She is gone, and I will not have her back. You hold her in too much regard. You take her counsel over mine, and she encourages you to follow your inclinations without a thought of what you owe to your family—what you owe to me!”
“Have you ever given a moment’s thought as to what I want?”
“No. That is not how things are done in our class. You put yourself above tradition and the family name, Miss Anne De Bourgh. You are selfish, foolish, and weak. Eventually, you will realize you do not have the strength to cross me. Go now. Plot if you like, but in the end, I will prevail, and my legacy will endure.”
Furious, Anne looked around the room. Ah, there it was in the center of the small round table between her mother and herself: a white marble sculpture, some fifteen inches tall, of a country maiden. Lady Catherine watched as her daughter looked from the sculpture to her and back to the sculpture. For a moment, her ladyship felt fear. Anne was younger and faster; she could easily throw the marble maiden or even use it as a club.
Looking at her mother again, Anne saw her fear. With a grim smile, she took a step toward the small table, and Lady Catherine unconsciously took a step back. Then, Anne heard Mrs. Jenkinson’s voice in her mind: Bide your time; wait until you have a plan. Abruptly, she turned and walked briskly out of the room.
31
“I have insisted Lizzy come to Netherfield.”
Once again in her bedroom, where the scent of lavender perfumed the air, Anne took a deep breath and felt calmer. Ringing for her maid, she asked for a glass of brandy; then she checked the other sachets again in hopes of finding more notes. Although she found none, she was still relieved to have even the one brief message. At least I know Nora was all right on Monday night. I must write to Peter Shelton. Her brother will know where she is. Or if he does not—if something has happened to her—he must be alerted so he can begin a search.
Opening her jewelry case, Anne took out her coin purse and the small journal in which she kept addresses. As she paged through it, there was a knock on her door. “Come.”
Spicer entered with a glass of brandy. “As you requested.”
“Thank you. Have you seen my portable writing desk? I do not think I left it in Bath, but I cannot be certain.”
“I will look for it. Do you need anything else, madam?”
“No—wait, yes. If you do not find my desk by tomorrow, I will need paper, pens, and ink.”
“Yes, Miss De Bourgh.”
≈≈≈
June 30, 1811
When Anne awoke the next day, she felt strangely lethargic and unable to think clearly. Only after several attempts did she manage to ring for her maid. Upon discovering it was now late Sunday evening, Anne realized her brandy had been drugged; however, she did not discover until the following morning that her coin purse and journal had disappeared. She asked every servant, but no one knew anything about the missing items.
≈≈≈
July 1, 1811
Following lunch at Lucas Lodge, Mr. Collins walked to Meryton to call upon Parson Gannet; thus, a cheerful Charlotte walked alone to Longbourn to visit Elizabeth. Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet happened to look out her bedroom window shortly after Charlotte arrived and saw the two friends chatting in the garden. Within a minute, she was standing at the front door, calling, “Lizzy, I need to speak with you in the parlor on a matter of some importance!”
“Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth replied, embarrassed by her mother’s refusal to greet Charlotte.
Charlotte had no illusions as to how Mrs. Bennet felt about her since her marriage to Collins. Patting Elizabeth’s hand, she said, “We will talk another time.” Rising gracefully, she curtsied to Mrs. Bennet and left the garden to walk back to Lucas Lodge. After a last glance at her friend, Elizabeth squared her shoulders, and reluctantly entered the house.
“Why do you encourage greedy Charlotte to visit? You know what seeing her does to my nerves!” Mrs. Bennet demanded in a furious whisper.
“I did not encourage her, nor have I discouraged her. She is one of my oldest friends,” Elizabeth said in a normal voice.
“Speak quietly! I will not have your father upset!”
Just then, Kitty entered. “Has Charlotte le
ft already?”
“Lizzy was in the garden with her when she should have been with your father,” Mrs. Bennet said, still whispering.
“But I was with Papa. There was no need for Lizzy to be with him, too,” Kitty said.
“She is now the eldest daughter in the household; her father’s care is her duty,” Mrs. Bennet said.
Elizabeth flashed her mother an annoyed look, thinking, His care is our family’s duty! Kitty knew the injustice of her mother’s accusations but felt helpless to intervene. As she tried to think of a remark to defuse the situation, she heard a carriage in the drive.
Mrs. Bennet, however, was so intent upon on remonstrating Elizabeth, she did not hear it. “You have been a great disappointment. You encourage your father to mock me. You are unkind to poor Lydia. In your voice and your manner, you do not show me proper respect!”
“Mama, I do not know what you want of me,” Elizabeth said, exasperated.
“I have done my best to instill in you a sense of responsibility and loyalty to your family, yet you insist on displaying a conceited independence! I think you will not be happy until your sisters and I are thrown into terrible poverty!” Mrs. Bennet’s voice was no longer a whisper, so Jane and Bingley, newly arrived from London, heard each word as they approached the parlor.
“Hello, Lizzy! Kitty!” Jane said as she entered, followed by Bingley. “Hello, Mama.”
In an instant, Mrs. Bennet’s manner changed. She turned to her eldest daughter with a fond smile. “You are back, my darling girl. Did you have a wonderful time?” It was the kindly manner in which Mrs. Bennet addressed Jane that undid Elizabeth’s composure. Bursting into tears, she ran out of the house.
Jane replied coolly, “I will happily tell you of our trip after I see to my sister.” Bingley gave a shallow nod to his mother-in-law and Kitty and then followed his wife.
There, in the little wilderness where Bingley had made his apology to Jane some weeks earlier, he found his bride holding Elizabeth, who was saying, “Mama blames me for Papa’s collapse, and she cannot forgive me for rejecting Mr. Collins!”
“I thought once Jane married me, the loss of Longbourn would cease to be an issue.”
“Charles, I wish for Lizzy to stay at Netherfield with us.”
“Of course, my dear!”
“But I cannot leave our sisters alone to care for Papa.”
“Does your father continue to improve?” Bingley asked.
“He does,” Elizabeth acknowledged.
“The household will manage without you,” Jane assured her.
“While Jane and I visit with your mother, Miss Elizabeth, go collect your things. Look, here is Kitty. She can help you.”
Kitty patted Elizabeth’s shoulder. “You know you did nothing wrong, Lizzy.” With a sigh, she added, “Mama sent me to ask Jane and Mr. Bingley to return to her.”
“I have insisted Lizzy come to Netherfield. Will you help her pack?” Jane asked.
“Of course,” Kitty said. She gave Elizabeth a playful nudge. “Mama is not waiting to hear any conversation from me.”
Jane took Bingley’s arm, and they returned to the parlor. “Ah, there you are,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I have called for tea.” Patting the empty place beside her on the sofa, she insisted, “Jane, come sit with me.”
Bingley said, “Excuse me, please, while I greet Mr. Bennet.”
Watching approvingly as her son-in-law exited, Mrs. Bennet said, “Your husband seems more forceful now. I credit your good influence, my dear.”
≈≈≈
In the bedroom Elizabeth had recently shared with Jane, she packed with more speed than care. “I am sorry to leave you and Mary to take care of everything,” she said as Kitty handed her items from her dresser drawers.
“Do not worry about us, Lizzy. Neither Mary nor I have been blind to Mama’s anger at you. In truth, I am relieved for you.”
≈≈≈
Bingley tapped on Mr. Bennet’s partially open door. “Are you awake, sir?”
“I am now,” Mr. Bennet said.
Somewhat abashed, Bingley entered the room. “My apologies for disturbing you.”
“I jest with you, sir. I have been awake for some time.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Almost my old self, but don’t tell anyone; I am enjoying being an invalid.”
Bingley nodded, not certain whether the statement merited a reply. “Jane and I are taking Elizabeth to stay at Netherfield. Her presence seems to upset Mrs. Bennet.”
Mr. Bennet had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I had hoped the situation was not as bad as all that. Well, I am glad Lizzy has you and Jane to take her in.”
“When you are feeling better, come to Netherfield and visit.”
“Count on it.”
≈≈≈
As Bingley returned to the parlor, Mrs. Bennet was complaining, “Mr. Collins persists in trying to see Mr. Bennet. I vow that terrible man is like a specter at the feast!”
Touching Jane’s shoulder, Bingley said, “I shall entertain your mother while you see your father.”
“Thank you, Husband.”
As Jane exited, Bingley took her place on the sofa. “How are you, Mother Bennet?”
“I am very well, as always, except for little spells in which my nerves tax me.” She fanned herself with her handkerchief for emphasis. “Did you go to the theatre and sit in the Darcy family box? How was it? Did you see many fashionable people?”
As Bingley shared a few details, he wondered, How can you be so cheerful with me yet so oblivious to the turmoil with your daughters?
In Mr. Bennet’s bedroom, Jane’s conversation with her father was brief. He confirmed his continued improvement and agreed that having Elizabeth stay at Netherfield was probably a necessary thing. “I suppose I share the blame for some of the acrimony your mother expresses toward your sister.”
After a brief pause, Jane replied, “I would never say so, sir.” She kissed him on the forehead and left. At her former bedroom, she paused in the doorway. “Are you ready, Lizzy?”
“Yes.” She hugged Kitty. “Tell Mary … well, explain for me.”
“Of course.”
Jane carried a bundle of her sister’s clothing wrapped in an old cotton shawl, while Elizabeth followed, clutching her overstuffed satchel; Kitty came last. As they neared the parlor, Jane stopped and touched her ear as a signal to her sisters. They heard Bingley saying, “You must know, Mother Bennet, that should you outlive your husband, I will assist you. You will always have a home.”
“So I would reside with you and Jane, sir?”
Her sly tone reminded Bingley of his sister Caroline’s manipulations, and he felt a flash of annoyance, but his tone was calm as he replied, “That depends on how well you get along with any others who are living in my household.”
Sighing with relief, Jane moved quickly to stand in the parlor doorway. “We are ready, Charles.” Joining his wife, Bingley took the satchel from Elizabeth while Jane explained, “Mama, Lizzy has agreed to visit us at Netherfield for awhile.”
“Why not take Lydia instead? She has scarcely left the house since the unfortunate event with Miss Darcy.”
“Who is still in residence at Netherfield,” Bingley reminded. “I will not subject my guests to Miss Lydia’s moods.”
“Lizzy cannot go; I forbid it! She is needed here to oversee the care of Mr. Bennet.”
No one had heard Mr. Bennet make his way downstairs; it was the first time since his collapse that he had walked this distance unassisted. Standing behind Elizabeth, he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Our Lizzy has done more than her share for me and this household, Mrs. Bennet. We shall all miss her, but I insist that she go. She will only be a few miles up the road.”
Elizabeth hugged her father, dipped a curtsy to her mother, and waved to Kitty. As Bingley followed his wife and sister-in-law out to the carriage, the maid entered the parlor with the tea tray. “Sorry for the delay, M
rs. Bennet. Oh, is everyone leaving?”
“Put the tray there on the table,” Mr. Bennet said. “I will have tea with my family.” He settled into the most comfortable chair in the room and put his feet on the hassock.
Scowling, Mrs. Bennet commanded, “Kitty, pour!”
≈≈≈
The dinner to welcome Jane and Bingley was the last meal at Netherfield for which Georgiana would set the menu. She had considered an elegant multi-course feast but, upon reflection, realized the newlyweds were among the least pretentious people she knew. Their acceptance of her as a friend and their approval of her as a hostess had always been in evidence. Thus, she decided a meal of a few favorite dishes would be more appealing than any elaborate menu. Fortunately, her plan also made it easy for Cook to accommodate an unexpected guest.
When a footman announced that the Bingley carriage was coming up the drive, Georgiana was the first to reach the portico, and Darcy and Fitzwilliam quickly joined her. As the carriage rolled to a stop, Darcy stepped forward to hand Jane out; when Elizabeth grasped his steadying hand and emerged instead, he was momentarily speechless.
Georgiana exclaimed delightedly, “Elizabeth, we have not seen you since the wedding! Have you come to dinner?”
“Lizzy has come to stay for awhile,” Jane said, as Bingley handed her out of the coach. She shepherded Georgiana and her sister inside.
Bingley, who held Elizabeth’s satchel in one hand and her shawl-wrapped bundle in the other, met the inquiring looks of his friends. “We stopped at Longbourn to ask after Mr. Bennet.”
“Is he still improving?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“Yes, and he agreed with Jane and me that Miss Elizabeth needed some time away. So, for the foreseeable future, she will be our guest here.”
Bingley entered the manor, but before Darcy could follow, Fitzwilliam’s voice stopped him. “How lucky, Cousin, that you and Miss Elizabeth are not engaged. Else she could not remain under the same roof as you.” That remark brought Darcy to a standstill. Grinning, Fitzwilliam patted him on the chest before following Bingley inside.
