Sorrow and Second Chances

by E Bradshaw

  “What a business this wedding planning is!” Jane exclaimed. “I had no idea how time consuming and expensive it was all going to be.”

  “I am always happy to provide you with whatever you need,” offered Charles at once. “If there is something that you wish me to assist with, then you only need to tell me.”

  Although Charles’ offer had been made with genuine affection and said as tactfully as he could, Jane immediately blushed in mortification when she realised how Charles had taken her comment. “No, Charles,” she muttered uncomfortably; “I did not wish… I did not mean to imply…”

  “That is very kind of you, Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth interjected, clearly trying to rescue her embarrassed sister, “but we truly do not need any assistance. Our father is providing us with all the funds we need for our wedding trousseaus, and we do not want for anything else. It is just that we have been a little dismayed by the rising cost of cloth and lace; we were only saying this morning that it was surely not so expensive when we last had reason to stock up our wardrobes. I can only assume that it is a consequence of the war against France; it must be making the costs of shipping so much more expensive.”

  Darcy smiled at Elizabeth, admiring as he always did how cleverly she had diverted the conversation away from such awkward territory, when he was suddenly surprised by Lydia’s re-joining comment.

  “You should be glad that you are marrying such a generous man, Jane,” she said. “Mr Bingley is always willing to help out others in need. It is a shame that some of his friends do not take a leaf from his book!”

  “Why, whatever do you mean, Lydia?” Kitty immediately asked.

  “Only that there are some men who will always strive to help their fellow man, whilst there are others who choose not act with the same sense of honour!”

  “Do you speak in general terms, or is there someone in particular whom you speak of?” queried Mary. “For if you only speak in general, you should think very carefully before you condemn all of mankind because of the ill-behaviour of a single person!”

  “It is nothing,” shrugged Lydia, appearing reluctant all of a sudden to say too much now that her comment was under scrutiny.

  “No, tell us, Lydia,” urged Kitty. “Whatever do you mean? Has someone upset you?”

  Darcy could not help but feel that Lydia’s comments had been aimed at him when she then glanced rather angrily in his direction. Clearly, everyone else had likewise come to the same conclusion, for an uneasy silence then descended upon them. Darcy clearly his throat rather uncomfortably. “Have I done something to offend you, Miss Lydia?” he asked.

  “No, you have done nothing to offend me,” she muttered reluctantly, as she focussed her gaze upon her clenched hands. “But I have heard… I have heard –”

  “Oh, yes, and what have you heard?” challenged Elizabeth.

  “Only that Mr Darcy is not always as generous as he ought to be,” answered Lydia in a resentful tone. “But I will say nothing more, for it is another person’s secret and I have already said more than I should.”

  “You should certainly say more,” retorted Elizabeth heatedly, “and quickly explain yourself! You cannot just throw accusations like that around without having the decency to back up your comments with some sort of proof or explanation!”

  “Lydia, it is not justified for you to speak so unkindly about another person,” Jane chastised her sister.

  “I will say nothing more!” insisted Lydia crossly, as she abruptly sprang up from her seat and stalked towards the door. “I only repeat what I have been told – and this I have been given on good authority! You should think on that before you all condemn me!” she exclaimed, before she stalked off in high dudgeon out of the room.

  Her face like thunder, Elizabeth immediately made to follow after her younger sister, but Darcy quickly put out his hand to stop her, urging her not to quarrel with her sister. Nevertheless, he was puzzled and hurt by Lydia’s comments, though he could not understand what she might mean by them, and nor could he guess at who might have told her such stories about him. Anxiously, he racked his mind to try and recollect if he might have offended any of the townsfolk of Meryton, but he couldn’t think of any incident or conversations when he might have caused such offence as Lydia alluded to. And although Charles and Jane very quickly tried to restore the atmosphere to a more cheerful mood, Darcy could not bring himself to join in with the conversation as easily as he had before. Instead, he unconsciously lapsed into a troubled silence as he tried to understand what could have caused Lydia’s sudden resentment.

  *****

  In fact, the answer to such questions came a lot sooner than Darcy might have expected, for only two days later he happened to spot Lydia walking out on her own once again. He had taken a different route that day on his way to visit Elizabeth, for he had been into Meryton to make some purchases and thus he travelled down a road that he typically didn’t use. From his elevated position on horseback, he easily spotted a young woman walking alone, and immediately recognised that the lady was in fact Lydia from the coat and bonnet she wore. To his mind, there was something quite furtive in her behaviour as she hurried down the lane – though he realised that she had not spotted him, for she seemed very intent on rushing towards her intended destination, wherever that might be. His suspicion aroused, Darcy dismounted from his horse and watched her, wondering where it was that Lydia was going – and more importantly, who it was that she was hurrying to meet, for it seemed clear to him that she must be meeting someone.

  A little further up the lane, Lydia came to a stile at the edge of Stubbin Woods, and glancing once again over her shoulder, she hopped over the stile and entered the woods. Darcy could not help but feel that there was something very underhand in Lydia’s behaviour, and so he did not hesitate from tethering his horse to a nearby tree and following after her. He could not help but worry that she had perhaps got herself into some sort of trouble, or was perhaps in the midst of being led astray by someone, and so his protective instincts were naturally aroused. He wondered if Lydia was perhaps being courted by a young man in the area, though he had not heard Lydia or her sisters mention any suitors – and to his mind, Lydia was still far too young for serious courtship, and in her innocence, would be far too easily led astray and thus readily persuaded into foolish behaviour.

  Unfortunately, Darcy was not wrong in his suspicions, for as he crept carefully through the woods, trying not to snap twigs underfoot as he went, he heard the distinct sound of voices. He heard Lydia’s voice as she happily greeted someone – and then he froze in utter shock as he recognised the voice that responded to her in turn. For an appalling moment, he was absolutely stunned by his discovery, and then immediately after he silently cursed himself for not having predicted that such a plot was afoot. For the man who had greeted Lydia was none other than Mr Wickham.

  Darcy could not begin to understand what could have brought George Wickham of all people back into his life – the man who had once been his childhood friend, but who had long since grown to hate him. The man who had plotted time and time again to get his hands on a portion of the Darcy family fortune, firstly by ingratiating himself with Mr Darcy senior, and then by attempting to persuade Georgiana into a reckless elopement. It still horrified Darcy when he considered just how close Wickham had come to persuading his sister to behave so rashly – and now it seemed that Wickham was once again attempting to groom a young woman into her own ruination. And that young woman was poor, foolish Lydia.

  It all seemed so obvious now, and Darcy was astounded at himself that he had not seen it coming. When Wickham had failed in his underhand plot to steal away with Georgiana, he had vowed to get his revenge on Darcy for interfering and for putting a decisive end to his scheme. And now, judging by the secretive whispers passing between Wickham and Lydia, and by their close proximity to one another, it seemed that he was well on the way to securing that revenge.

  Darcy knew Wickham’s devious ways from old; he had s
een too many naive young women meet their ruination at his hands – and so he could not believe that Wickham’s ultimate intentions were any different on this occasion. Wickham was far too cynical and self-serving to ever think to marry for love; no, Darcy knew full well that Wickham would never consent to surrender his bachelorhood and settle into marriage unless he was to marry an extremely rich heiress. And unfortunately, since Lydia didn’t have a fortune to her name, she was bound to be heartbroken, since Wickham would only ever use her as a plaything. Regrettably, Darcy knew all too well how Wickham operated, for he had dealt with the aftermath of Wickham’s selfish ploys far too often in the past.

  Inch by inch, day by day, Wickham would entice Lydia to fall in love with him; and when her infatuation had reached its peak, he would persuade her into a reckless elopement and take his pleasure from her – and then cruelly abandon her when his interest had waned. The ensuing scandal would ruin the Bennet family, and although Darcy had no intention of breaking his engagement with Elizabeth, he knew that the fall-out from such a disgrace would undoubtedly cause much talk amongst society, leaving the Bennet family to be ostracised and shunned wherever they went. There was simply no way that Darcy would allow Lydia to face such heartbreak and ruination, or for Elizabeth and her family to be put at the mercy of such spiteful gossip, and so he knew he had no choice but to put a decisive stop to Lydia’s infatuation. Thus, squaring his shoulders and gritting his teeth as he attempted to suppress his mounting anger, he stepped forward to show himself.

  Chapter 16

  “What is the meaning of this, Wickham?” Darcy demanded with angry vehemence, as he stepped forward to confront the two of them. “Come, Lydia,” he commanded, as he stretched out his hand towards her, “you should not be here alone like this. It is time I escorted you home.”

  However, though both Wickham and Lydia looked extremely shocked by his sudden appearance, Wickham very quickly recovered his composure while Lydia’s expression grew immediately defiant.

  “I shall not come!” she exclaimed. “And what are you doing, following me and sneaking up on us like that?”

  “It is like I said,” answered Wickham with a smug expression; “Darcy hates to see other people happy. He disapproves of me because my father was his father’s servant; he cannot bear to think of people stepping out of the position that they were born into. He is an insufferable snob and he has been making me suffer all my life because he cannot bear to see me do well for myself!”

  “That is a damn lie, Wickham, and you know it!” Darcy retorted irritably. “I have no issue with your start in life, but only with your deplorable behaviour! It is your shameless social climbing and your selfish conduct that I cannot abide!”

  “Poor Wickham was right about you!” cried Lydia, as she leapt furiously to Wickham’s defence. “I cannot understand why you hate him so! He is a good man who has done nothing wrong, and I do not understand why you have treated him as you have! But he has told me everything and you shall soon be exposed as the tyrant you are!”

  Darcy resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead he silently and patiently reminded himself that Lydia was innocent to Wickham’s deceitful ways – just as he knew that Wickham had undoubtedly worked his charm on her, as he had with so many others before her. He therefore tried to keep a tight hold on his rapidly-waning patience and be gentle with her. “What has he told you, Lydia?” he asked wearily.

  “I told her everything,” answered Wickham smugly. “I told her how you could never accept that your father loved me as though I were his second son – and so you have punished me for it ever since. If not for you, I could have had a respectable living by now; I could have been free to live and marry as I chose!”

  “And how would you have liked preaching sermons, Wickham?” Darcy retorted scornfully. “From where I stand, it would hardly seem appropriate for a man of your deeds and reputation to be preaching the ten commandments – and especially since, to my knowledge, you must have broken the majority of them!”

  Wickham was far too practised and much too smooth to appear in the least bit perturbed by Darcy’s accusation, though Darcy noticed that Lydia, in comparison, glanced up at Wickham with a glimmer of confusion in her expression. Darcy had no doubt that Wickham had portrayed himself to Lydia in the most glowing terms; he was so shameless that he would have no scruple about lying to her about every facet of his life and character. Consequently, Darcy realised that it would be up to him to reveal the truth about the man whom she thought she had fallen for.

  “I would have liked preaching sermons well enough,” Wickham replied defensively, “though I was never given the chance. You robbed me of my inheritance and of my rightful place in the world!”

  “Sermons?” snorted Lydia disdainfully. “But it would be so boring to be a parson! I think you are far better off being an officer, dear Wickham, what with your dashing uniform and all the adventures you have had!”

  “Yes, my dear,” Wickham responded a little tightly, “but you miss the point. Whilst I am happy in the regiment, and of course, respected by all my superior officers and my fellow men, I should have been given the living that I was entitled to. It was the dying wish of my dear old friend – and Darcy had no right to deny me of what was rightfully mine.”

  “Do not cast up my father’s name so casually, sir!” Darcy snarled at him through gritted teeth. “I am heartily sick of hearing your fanciful tales cast far and wide, and of having them repeated to me by people full of reproach on your behalf!”

  “Then you should not have denied me my inheritance,” smiled Wickham, clearly pleased to see that he had irritated Darcy. “It is only natural that I should seek solace for my disappointed hopes, and I cannot help it if my friends feel it is only right to defend me!”

  “No, indeed!” agreed Lydia vehemently. “Poor Wickham has suffered greatly – and at your hands, Mr Darcy! Now, what do you have to say about that? Don’t you feel ashamed?”

  “No, Lydia, I don’t,” Darcy responded tersely. “And I’ll tell you why,” he added, as he saw her draw breath to begin a protest. “I don’t feel ashamed because whatever tales Mr Wickham has told you are false. His stories are always false; in fact, he has been telling lies for so long that I doubt the man is even capable of telling the truth anymore.”

  “You are unjust, Darcy!” Wickham exclaimed. “And I think you should consider your own position very carefully,” he added with an ominous look. “You should remember that you have family secrets that I am quite sure you would not want revealed to the world! For don’t forget, there are others besides yourself who would suffer grievously if I were to reveal what I know of them.”

  It did not surprise Darcy in the least bit that Wickham would stoop so low as to make insinuations and threats. It was altogether clear that Wickham spoke of Georgiana, and that he was alluding to their near elopement of two summers ago. However, instead of subduing Darcy, as Wickham had no doubt intended, his insinuation only infuriated Darcy even further. Moreover, aware as he was that Lydia was listening intently to every word that they exchanged, Darcy realised that he could use this opportunity to show her what Wickham really was.

  “You are right, Wickham,” he therefore replied gravely; “I would prefer that such private matters did not spread beyond those people who already know of them.”

  “I thought so!” Wickham smirked. “You never could stand to see the precious Darcy reputation suffer in any way. I know it would be quite abhorrent for you if your family name were to be dragged through the mud.”

  “Yes, I am protective of my family name,” admitted Darcy, “but it is not that which concerns me so much as protecting the injured party involved. I would not wish for her to be punished for something she did when she was still too young and naive to understand how to protect herself from the conniving tricks of others.”

  The smile which Wickham directed at him in response was so smug and so self-assured that Darcy was hard pressed not to thump him straight in h
is teeth. Nevertheless, he held onto his temper with grim resolve, feeling determined to dissuade Lydia out of her belief that Wickham was a good man. And clearly, the best way for him to do that would be by showing Lydia the reality of who Wickham truly was beneath the charming mask which he presented to the world.

  “You know, Darcy, it occurs to me that I have been very good to you in keeping such a damaging family secret to myself,” commented Wickham with his typical barefaced impudence. “And yet, as we have already discussed, I certainly don’t owe you any favours, not after the heartless way that you have treated me. So, it behoves me to ask; what would my secrecy be worth to you?”

  “Your secrecy would be worth nothing,” Darcy spat, “since I would not trust your honour with any kind of secret! You would spread any scandal about me and mine, simply for the enjoyment of bringing misfortune down on me. It would not matter what amount of money I paid you, for I have learnt from bitter experience that no matter how many times you are paid off, you will always fritter it away and return for more. And nor do I think that you would actually spread such a story, for the tale hardly does you any credit, now does it?”

  It was quite clear from Lydia’s confused expression that she had no notion whatsoever of what the two of them spoke about – though Darcy felt that it was high time that she did. Little though he wished to expose his sister in any way, he felt certain that Lydia would finally understand the error of her ways if she could only understand how deceitful Wickham was. Thus, it was with mixed feelings of relief and disgust that he finally broke his baleful glare away from Wickham, and instead turned to look at Lydia as he included her into their discussion.

  “I’m afraid you don’t know the tale, Lydia,” Darcy addressed her, “though I feel it is high time that you did – and especially if my suspicions are correct that Mr Wickham has imposed himself upon you by giving a false impression of himself.”