Sorrow and Second Chances

by E Bradshaw

  “Wickham?” she implored, as she looked beseechingly at him. “What do you have to say?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” snarled Wickham, as he threw up his arms in exasperation. “What is it that you wish to hear from me? Of course I have a past; of course there have been other women! Are you such a child that you need me to reassure you and cajole you over every trifling little thing?”

  Wickham’s impatient, uncaring response was the final straw. With a sob of anguish and with tears in her eyes, Lydia picked up her skirts and ran straight into Darcy’s arms. Having known that the inevitable unhappy end was coming, Darcy simply wrapped his arms around her and soothed her as best as he could. But over her stooped head he fixed a cold stare upon Wickham.

  “Be gone, Wickham, before I order the town constable to come after you!” he growled. “You may be sure that Mr Bennet will be told of this, and never again will you have the opportunity to prey on one of his daughters.”

  “Oh, and I am to be scared, am I?” sneered Wickham. “The great Mr Darcy, the heir to Pemberley himself, threatens to report me to the town constable? I don’t know whether to faint with fear at the very thought, or to fall about laughing,” he jeered.

  “I advise you not to try my patience, Wickham,” retorted Darcy menacingly. “I would have no scruple whatsoever about calling you out. And truly, I wonder how many women you would be able to seduce once I ruined that pretty façade of yours.”

  Something in Darcy’s expression must have warned Wickham that Darcy was entirely in earnest in his threat, for he suddenly blanched and dropped his act of bravado. For a long moment, he and Darcy eyed one another with a look of implacable coldness, before Wickham finally broke the tense silence.

  “I am tired of Hertfordshire anyway,” he muttered nastily. “Meryton is such a boring, provincial little town with absolutely nothing to recommend it. I shall be glad to leave and never come back.”

  It was quite obvious from the venom in his tone that Wickham spoke not only of Meryton, but that he was also aiming a spiteful jibe at Lydia. And it was clear that she had understood his barbed cruelty all too well, for she began sobbing anew against Darcy’s chest. Darcy would have dearly liked to have grabbed Wickham around his throat and to have beaten him black and blue for all the hurt he had caused, but instead he tightened his hold around Lydia, as if to protect her from any more of Wickham’s cruel insults.

  “See that you don’t come back,” he retorted angrily, as Wickham turned and began to stalk away from the two of them. “And you may be certain that I will write to your superior officer to inform him of your latest antics,” he added. “And if I hear of you causing harm to anyone else, you may be certain that you will live to regret it.”

  Darcy’s anger and outrage were such that he dearly wanted to act on his threat and call Wickham out, and take his revenge, there and then. But his more pressing need to protect and comfort Lydia made him swallow down his rage, and instead he focussed his attention onto her. Her distress was painfully reminiscent of Georgiana’s heartbreak in the previous summer, and Darcy found himself swallowing and swallowing again as he endeavoured not to become emotional himself.

  “He didn’t love me at all, did he?” asked Lydia plaintively.

  Her forlorn question was more than Darcy could take, and suddenly he wished for nothing more than to get Lydia home, where they would both be surrounded once more by the love and attention of the whole Bennet family. “Come, Lydia,” he urged her gently, “let me take you home.”

  Chapter 17

  “You must not blame yourself, sir, really you must not,” Darcy reassured Mr Bennet. “No one saw it coming; none of us had properly noticed Lydia’s changed behaviour.”

  In the aftermath of the confrontation with Wickham, the two gentlemen were discussing the scene that Darcy had come across in the woods, and Darcy had relayed to Mr Bennet all that had occurred during his ensuing altercation with Wickham. Darcy had brought Lydia straight home after their confrontation; the Bennet family had quickly been apprised of what had happened – and now, even as the two gentlemen spoke together downstairs in Mr Bennet’s study, Lydia was upstairs being comforted by her sisters.

  Not wishing for there to be any unnecessary secrets between them, Darcy had also told Mr Bennet of everything that had occurred between Wickham and his sister in the previous summer. It was not a subject that he particularly wished to revisit, but after realising that history had very nearly repeated itself because he had been too proud to warn Mr Bennet and his daughters about Mr Wickham’s treacherous ways, he had recognised that there was no room for his pride or reserve anymore. Mr Bennet, in turn, had been very grateful to Darcy for his honesty and for his timely intervention, but nonetheless he had been appalled at just how close his daughter had come to thinking about running away, and consequently how close she might have come to causing a major family scandal.

  “No, no, Fitzwilliam,” Mr Bennet lamented, as he gloomily shook his head, “you shall not excuse me so easily. I have been a lax father; there is no other way to view it.”

  “You are too hard upon yourself,” argued Darcy. “You have had a very difficult year; you all have. Poor Lydia was easy prey to Wickham; she is young and impressionable – and like my sister before her, was all too eager to find affection.”

  “Nevertheless, her mother would have picked up on it,” Mr Bennet replied sadly. “She always knew what was going on in our girls’ lives.”

  “Well, perhaps she would and perhaps she wouldn’t,” Darcy answered gently – though he secretly had his doubts that the late Mrs Bennet would have dissuaded Lydia from her romance with Wickham, even if she had known about it.

  “After all,” he added sympathetically, “Wickham has become very skilled at charming young women away from their families. And from what Lydia said to me on our way back here, it seems that Wickham had worked his wiles very artfully on her. From what I can deduce, he had evidently learnt about my attachment to your family, for he had plotted as to how he could use the knowledge to his advantage. He had therefore written to Lydia in secret and coaxed her, little by little, to fall under his spell. Gradually, she had been persuaded to disregard every scruple she had ever been taught until she had reached such a stage of infatuation for Wickham that she was willing to do anything he asked of her. Indeed, when he was quite sure of his power over her, he had travelled from Brighton to reside in an inn near here, and it seems they saw one another frequently after that. I can only assume from this that he was laying the way for their eventual elopement, and so I believe that we have been very lucky to discover the plot before it went any further.”

  Mr Bennet paced around his study as he ruminated in unhappy silence and brooded over the whole appalling situation. “We could have been ruined!” he exclaimed at last. “When I think about what could have happened if you had not been there today, it makes me feel utterly sick with agony and rage! In truth, when I first heard about what Lydia had done and what had happened to her today, a part of me wanted to wrap my arms around my poor daughter and comfort her, whilst another part of me felt so angry that I wanted to lock her up in her room and forbid her from leaving the house forever!”

  “It is natural for you to feel like this,” soothed Darcy. “I certainly did when I discovered what Georgiana had agreed to. Truthfully, I could hardly even bear to look at her in the days that followed – though over time, I realised that I was mostly angry with myself for not protecting her properly and for not having seen what was happening – and right under my nose, no less. But in the end, I realised that my anger was making things far worse between us; I was blaming her and shunning her, when actually I needed to face up to my own failures. I realised that I needed to forgive her for what she had been too young and naive to protect herself from – and forgive myself, too, for my own mistakes. And though it took me some time, I ultimately saw that my behaviour was making my poor sister feel worse about herself – and it could have driven her further away
from me, had I persisted with my resentful attitude.”

  Darcy had simply been thinking aloud about the mistakes that he had made following Georgiana’s near-elopement; in no way had he intended to sound critical of Mr Bennet, or to sound as if he were passing judgement on the way in which the older man ran his household. However, something of what he said must have resonated with Mr Bennet, for the older man sighed sadly and then moved to slump down heavily in his armchair.

  “Aye, you are quite right, young man,” he said in a forlorn tone. “I am as much to blame as Lydia is for all this mess. I see now that I have been an inattentive father; I have left the girls to their own devices far too often, and especially since their mother died. It is very hard on a girl to be deprived of her mother, and especially when she is on the cusp of womanhood, as Lydia is. I miss Agnes everyday, but it is times like this that I especially wish she were still here, for she would have known what to say to Lydia; she would have known how to set everything to rights.”

  “You do yourself a disservice, sir,” countered Darcy. “I’m quite sure that you will be able to put things right, if you would only talk to Lydia. She needs to understand how dangerous her behaviour was – not only for herself, but also for her family – but she also needs to understand that she can recover from this unfortunate episode in her life. Fortunately, no one but her immediate family know of what happened today, so there will be no ensuing scandal.”

  “Indeed,” nodded Mr Bennet with a little more optimism; “at least we will be spared from our neighbours’ gossip. I know that I will need to have a long and serious talk with my youngest child, but right now I hardly know what I shall say! In truth, at this precise moment I feel like ranting and railing at her. It seems inconceivable that she could have been so foolish – and yet at the same time, I remind myself that she is a motherless girl of only fifteen years old, whilst Wickham is a practised liar of nearly twice her age, who by all accounts, has had a long apprenticeship in deceit.”

  Darcy nodded in rueful agreement, knowing all to well how Mr Bennet was feeling at that precise moment. “There have been many people duped by Wickham over the years,” he replied. “He leaves a trail of debts to countless tradesmen in every town he visits, and I am sorry to say that he has broken more hearts and fathered more illegitimate children than you would wish to count. Even my own father, who was reckoned by many to be an intelligent man, had an absurdly blind eye when it came to Wickham.”

  “Well, I never liked him!” Mr Bennet asserted vehemently. “I remember Agnes used to encourage our girls to walk into town to meet with Colonel Forster’s officers whilst the regiment was stationed here in Meryton, and some of the young men even used to visit us here at Longbourn. I actually liked some of them; they were good, honourable men – but in my opinion, Wickham was too smooth by half. His stories were always far too fantastical, with him painting himself as the hero in every situation. But, like a fool, I never objected to the officers’ visits; I never warned my daughters of my doubts concerning Wickham.”

  “But I am determined to learn from my mistakes; never again will I allow my daughters the liberty of spending time with unsuitable young men like that! Never again will Mr Wickham, or any other man of his type, be allowed to speak to my daughters, or even to cross my threshold! I am determined that I will be a lax father no longer, and it starts today. I haven’t safeguarded my daughters’ futures as I should, but I am determined to put that right straightaway. Agnes’ death reminded me that I might not live as long as I had always assumed, and I could not rest if I were to leave my daughters destitute.”

  “They would never be destitute,” Darcy soothed. “Charles and I would always look out for your daughters.”

  “And I appreciate your generosity, Fitzwilliam, I really do,” replied Mr Bennet, “but it is not for you to safeguard them. That is my responsibility, and so I am going to start saving for my girls’ futures at once. And I’ll talk to Lydia about what happened, and to all my daughters about my expectations of them, though I’ll wait until tomorrow until I begin delivering such lectures. There has already been too much uproar today and I think it would be prudent to give Lydia some time to recover from her ordeal.”

  Darcy said nothing in reply, for they had already discussed the situation at length and said everything that needed to be said. Nonetheless, distressing as the episode had been, Darcy could not help but reflect that Lydia’s folly had in some ways done the Bennet family some good in the end. Though he liked and admired Mr Bennet, there was no escaping the uncomfortable fact that he had been a somewhat laid-back father – even before the sad demise of his wife. And though there was no doubt that Mr Bennet had done his best to take care of his daughters ever since her death, he had still been rather preoccupied and inattentive to his daughters’ comings and goings. Whilst that was perfectly understandable, given the grief he had been going through, his inattention had nonetheless had its consequences. Thus, Darcy could only think that this near-catastrophe had in fact served a useful purpose, for it had finally shocked Mr Bennet into thinking of his responsibilities to his daughters, and moreover, of thinking of their future welfare.

  *****

  After such a stressful episode, the whole family were glad of the fast-approaching double wedding ceremony, for the days following the discovery of Lydia’s foolhardy episode with Wickham were taxing to say the least. They were relieved, too, when Georgiana travelled down from Derbyshire to join them, for her well-bred behaviour and her gentle nature provided them all with a much-needed respite. In contrast, it went without saying that the arrival of Charles’ sisters and Mr Hurst was not greeted so warmly as Georgiana’s arrival had been, though since the Bennet sisters were sensible to the fact that the Hurst’s and Miss Bingley were soon to become part of Jane’s family, they made every effort to be gracious for her sake. Nevertheless, having to endure Louisa Hurst and Caroline Bingley for several days in a row was enough to test even Jane’s and Charles’ legendry goodwill and patience, and so it was a relief to everyone when the day of the wedding finally arrived.

  Indeed, the general atmosphere of joy and celebration was a welcome relief for everyone after so much strain and turmoil, and though it was early December and the ground was frozen underfoot, they were blessed with a morning of bright sunshine on the day of the long-awaited wedding. Meanwhile, Darcy and Charles paced in the church vestry with an ever-growing feeling of nervous tension and tried to keep one another calm as they waited for the arrival of their brides.

  “This is awful,” Charles complained after a while; “time seems to be ticking backwards! Are you quite sure that they are on their way?”

  “Of course they’re on their way!” Darcy laughed. “I hardly think that Jane and Elizabeth could have forgotten that they have a pressing appointment with us this morning! Do not fret, Charles, they will not be long now.”

  Though Darcy had laughed at his friend’s agitation, he was, in truth, no less nervous. He hid it well, but secretly his heart was beating like a drum and his hands were damp with perspiration. True to his restless nature, Charles showed his tension by pulling at his cuffs and collar, and by pacing round and round the small vestry, but Darcy, in contrast, became ever more taciturn in his nervousness. However, Darcy knew it would serve no good for either of them to wait in tense silence, and so he made a determined effort to pull himself out of his introspection in order to calm his friend.

  “Come,” Darcy said, as he indicated a decanter of wine and two glasses on a nearby table, “let me pour you a drink to settle your nerves.”

  “I don’t know if I should, Darcy,” replied Charles, shaking his head; “I’m so tightly wound this morning that I feel I might just be sick on my shoes!”

  “You won’t,” Darcy reassured him confidently. “I won’t let you be sick or even faint, if it comes to that. Come on, take a measure with me; it’ll help us both.”

  “Very well, if you think it will help,” Charles agreed, “though I think I sh
ould warn you that I’ve already had several stiff drinks this morning.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes, Mr Hurst felt it would help me to have a measure or two. He said he’d never seen a bridegroom looking so green about the gills before!”

  “Are you truly feeling ill?” queried Darcy with his eyebrows raised. “For if you are, then perhaps you really shouldn’t have another drink. I will already have enough to think about when we stand at the altar, without having to worry about holding you upright as well!”

  “No, you don’t need to fret about me, Darcy. In truth, I am simply eaten up with nerves.”

  “You don’t need to worry; I’m quite sure that Jane will be gentle with you,” teased Darcy, knowing full well that humour was the best way of taking his friend’s mind off his worries.

  “Ha!” laughed Charles. “You needn’t worry about me, for I am certain that I am marrying the sweetest girl in the world. But perhaps you are the one who is anxious, Darcy?” he countered cheekily. “Perhaps you are nervous about your first night as a husband? Yes, perhaps this is why you invent this excuse to take a stiff drink with me! You should have said something, for if I’d have known you were this worried about your wedding night, then I would have happily given you some advice.”

  Darcy tried giving his friend a look of frosty disapproval in reply, but he simply couldn’t hold the expression for he was just too happy. In less than an hour’s time, he would finally be joined in matrimony to the woman he loved; to his Elizabeth. As he dwelt upon her, he unknowingly smiled, thinking about how she had captivated him since their very first meeting. He hadn’t known it at the time, but that fateful encounter at the Meryton assembly rooms had been the turning point of his entire existence. Though their path towards this happy day had often been fraught, and more often painful, their journey to a better understanding of one another had also taught them a great deal about themselves. Indeed, Darcy certainly knew that he was a better man for having known Elizabeth and for having gone through the life lessons that she had taught him. They had been bitter lessons at the time, but he was man enough to acknowledge that he had needed to learn some humility in order to truly deserve her.