“Lizzy!”
“Eliza!”
Her aunt and uncle were completely aghast.
“Surely, you cannot be serious, Eliza!’ Her aunt gasped. “The gentleman is prepared to amend the wrongdoings of tonight and you refuse him? Surely, you see that he is but offering you the only honourable path away from this sordid affair.”
Such representation could only agitate her further. Elizabeth had no intentions of placing herself in this man’s favour!
“Yes, I do!” cried Elizabeth with energy. “And you would not have me marry him either were you privy to the vices of this man. I have severe provocations against him that I would prefer not to dwell on. And you are mistaken, dearest aunt, I would much rather bear the scorn of the society than be with him.”
With such a declaration, Elizabeth flew up the stairs to her room, holding her face in utter mortification. Never had she felt so ridiculed, so inferior. Her dislike for the man became more deeply rooted with each sob that escaped her lips. Her silent tear that fell was blamed on Mr. Darcy, cursing him for the wretchedness that had befallen her family since he set his feet in Hertfordshire. She had not been in jest when she said that she would not marry him were he to be the last man on earth!
Chapter Four
Elizabeth would not allow herself to dwell on regrets and spite. Sleeping but little for the variety of thoughts in her head, she woke up in a decidedly cheerful mood. Through the night, she had continued in very agitated reflections and not even the sounds below stairs announcing the departure of Mr. Darcy had prompted her to stir from her bed.
Her relatives wisely chose to let her be in her chambers, eliciting both her gratitude and guilt for behaving so poorly in their presence. Her uncle and aunt had been nothing but the epitome of chivalrousness and a constant source of joy for her and her sisters.
She wished to relegate the entire happenings of the ball to a ridiculous dream but her good sense rebelled against such foolhardy. Regardless of her aunt’s warning the night before, Elizabeth decided to take a walk in the park. Dressing up hastily, she eased out of the house at a time when she knew her aunt would be engaged with instructing the scullery maids on the affairs of breakfast.
The past days since their arrival at Lambton, she had kept to a morning routine, walking round the park and making acquaintance with some regular people who enjoyed the same. She looked forward to seeing for herself what reaction her appearance would elicit from those who might recognize her. It was the only way to convince her aunt and uncle against Mr. Darcy’s asinine scheme.
And she had barely begun wandering along the lane when a chaise stopped in her path and a round face peered at her from the inside. “My word, if it isn’t the young lady caught in Lord Darcy’s arms last night!” cried she in some excitement. “I told you Ella, my eyes should never deceive me!”
A second face soon joined the first, but Elizabeth stoutly stood her ground though her insides were quivering like a mass of corn rows in the wind. The faces above her had a sharp, shrewish look that already judged her severely. She discerned the extreme look of disdain on the face of the elegant companion of the first woman who even now was jostling her friend in congratulation for recognizing her.
“I would beg your pardon, but I am certain that you were mistaken in the events of the night before,” said Elizabeth, determined to set the young ladies straight despite the acute scrutiny represented on their faces.
But alas, the ladies were to have none of her explanation.
“What can you have to say for yourself, young miss?” said the first lady who noticed her. “Even the domestics know better than to appear in seclusion with an unmarried man and by your choosing to be in that circumstance with Lord Darcy, it cannot be clearer what you mean to achieve and you may spare us the indignity of your lies and conjectures for we have heard many a thing about you and your wretched family!”
“Yes, Madeline, indeed we have,” agreed the second woman in the chaise who seemed only to agree to whatever the first declared. “Did we not hear that they are all of five daughters to their mother and father and have become desperate for their lack of suitors? Why, their own mother went as far as spreading wild rumours of an impending marriage to that jolly fellow, Lord Darcy’s friend, Mr. Bingley, and the man had to quite directly remove himself away on that account.”
Elizabeth’s mortification was complete. The insult to herself and her family was not unfelt. It bristled and pained her to depths that reached beyond flesh and bone and she wondered in a dejected spirit how she could be judged so by people who knew her not. The contempt which she was subjected to was thoroughly undeserved though she was not unaware that it may perhaps have been self-attracted by the rest of her family, the contemplation of the malicious spread of her life in gossip was very much unbearable to her.
And it was with great disappointment and bitterness of heart that she watched the ladies drive away, after thoroughly abusing her and her family. She felt no desire to pursue her walk any longer. A deep-rooted fatigue and melancholy had set in and she faced no option but to turn towards the Gardiners’ home.
She entered the house with the wish of appearing cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as must make her unfit for her relatives’ company, though she acknowledged that this was a feat near impossible. However, she was decided that her aunt may not know the details of her encounter at the park as she detested to distress her in the least, though she expected an upbraid for her reaction the night before.
However, no such occurrence happened. Her aunt was in wait for her looking most anxious and tormented. Immediately, as Elizabeth set foot in the house, her aunt embraced her. ‘Oh, dear Eliza!” cried she, thrusting a letter into her hands and leading her to a chair.
Confounded, Elizabeth looked at the letter and discerned that it was from Jane. Indeed, she had been in expectation of a letter from her sister but could not fathom why her aunt wore such a long face in receipt of such. Her own woes instantly forgotten, her fingers flew to tear off the seal and she began to read:
Dearest Lizzy,
Something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature; but while I am afraid of alarming you, I must assure you that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she has gone off to Scotland with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know our father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly grieved. Our father bears it better. They were off Saturday night about twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from our poor mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written...
It was grave news indeed and Elizabeth felt instantly lightheaded at the implications of Lydia’s rash actions. The Bennet’s last child, not sixteen yet, had always been extremely flighty and given to acting as she just wished and most of the time, she influenced Kitty, who was a good deal two years older, in her schemes. Lydia was their mother’s favourite for she was more like her in deed and speech. Mrs. Bennet had never disapproved of Lydia’s ways while their father never exerted himself overtly in all his daughter’s mannerisms, save deriving some amusement here and there. Lydia’s flightiness was thus gone without curtailment and now, this!
Feeling a bit faint, Elizabeth looke
d into her aunt’s eyes; her mind was superseded not only by Lydia's situation but by her own. Already, her family was labelled desperate for suitors and Lydia’s actions could not have been more ill-timed. But Wickham! What was this? Wickham was of the red coats stationed in Hertfordshire for a while and though her sisters, Lydia and Kitty, had taken a liking to near all the military men, Elizabeth had not perceived Wickham as a favourite of Lydia’s. In fact, he had much been attached to herself before she left. An entirely agreeable man, Wickham had formed a friendly bond with Elizabeth, telling her of all Mr. Darcy’s years growing up in a privileged manner and on the death of his sire, denying Wickham of the bestowment the sire graciously left him.
Lydia, with the help of their mother, had prevailed upon their father to go to Brighton with a colonel’s family. From Jane’s letter, Elizabeth discerned that Wickham and Lydia were gone off together from Brighton, where the regiment had been stationed. Lydia had no money, no connections, nothing that could have tempted Wickham into a marriage and Elizabeth could only surmise that her sister was lost forever and their family name was now in irreparable shatters. While the Bennet sisters had no settlement on their persons to speak of, now Lydia’s action had truly shattered any hopes of being happily settled to a decent man.
Battling this point, Elizabeth clutched her aunt’s hands in a desperation for consolation. “You must know the content of this letter judging by the look on your face. Dearest aunt, what am I to do? My family is in a greater peril than I realized!”
“Indeed, Jane addressed us each different letters but I may well suppose the contents are not dissimilar,” said her aunt as she held Elizabeth’s shoulders in sympathy. “Your uncle is even now writing and dispatching letters of apology for the invitations we were meant to honour during our stay here and I have instructed the maids to begin packing our bags. We shall not tarry here any longer but set out for Hertfordshire this morn. Jane enlisted your uncle’s help for the search of Lydia and Wickham, though of course, he would have volunteered himself and would render every assistance in his power. Let not your mind overtly worry about this matter. It would soonest be resolved in the best manner possible.”
Elizabeth drew some strength from her aunt’s reassurance and proceeded above stairs in excessive hurry to gather together her belongings.
So wild was she to be at home and to hear every account of the entire business directly from Jane who even now must be in a dreadful situation, as Elizabeth knew that the cares of the house must now fall wholly upon her. What, with their father gone looking for Lydia and a mother who simply would be of too much wrecked nerves and requiring constant attendance. Her impatience was such severe that she paid no particular mind to aught but setting on the road.
A half-hour later, all businesses were completed and the party was set to leave Lambton. Elizabeth, after all the misery of the night afore, found herself in a shorter space of time than she could have supposed when setting out on the Northern tour with her aunt and uncle. Unexpectedly, at this very moment, she was seated in the carriage and on the road to Longbourn once again.
And as they began the journey, the full intensity of her situation hit her yet again. In combination with the scene of the night before at the ball, if word of this unhappy situation with Lydia was to be out, the Bennet family may as well be totally disgraced and ostracized.
She sought reassurance from her aunt to inquire if anyone else knew of this business.
Mrs. Gardiner, looking at her husband in a strange way replied that, “The affair is maintained within the family.”
Elizabeth interpreted the exchange to mean that it was only a matter of time before the world got wind of the sordid affair entangling the Bennets.
Oh Lydia, why?
Chapter Five
It was three days since Elizabeth arrived in Longbourn with the Gardiners and each day seemed to be worse than the one before. Lydia was not to be found anywhere in London. Her father had gone to London before their arrival and Mrs. Bennet lamented that he should have a duel with Wickham and leave her a widow while the estate would be turned away from her and her daughters. Mr. Gardiner, entirely displeased by his sister’s excessive imaginations, set out for London in promise of sending home Mr. Bennet at the earliest.
The family was in great distress and Mrs. Bennet would not be persuaded to leave the seclusion of her chambers. But for Mrs. Gardiner who stayed behind in service of her nieces, the whole situation must otherwise be extremely impossible for Jane and Elizabeth.
On the afternoon of the third day, Lady Lucas, the Bennet’s closest neighbour and mother of Charlotte, Elizabeth’s friend, walked to Longbourn bearing ill news. “I heard tell of some ridiculousness about Elizabeth and that proud friend of Mr. Bingley,” said she while she sat with Mrs. Bennet in her room. “Of course, I told Fiona to stem such nonsense as it could not be true that Elizabeth would vaunt herself so shamelessly at any man!”
Little did they know that Elizabeth was within earshot, as she was this way and that about the house, hardly able to settle down in one place.
Mrs. Bennet, quite absorbed in her grief moments before this revelation found herself as sharp as could be. She demanded a bit more explanation and soon went thundering out of her chamber, calling for Elizabeth.
Quickly, less her mother gained knowledge of her presence, Elizabeth alighted the stairway with feet that barely seemed to touch the wooden floor.
No words could relieve Mrs. Bennet’s grief. No explanations shall satisfy her, not even from Mrs. Gardiner who immediately rallied to Elizabeth’s defence. Mrs. Bennet hit her chest and wailed in hysterics, “Oh la! What is this? How have things turned this way? Two daughters in shame at once, where shall I turn? Oh, Lady Lucas, your joy must be complete, knowing that my family has failed. What shall become of us? Lord knows the sacrifices I have made and how I have contrived to do the best by you girls and this is what I get for my efforts – disgrace.”
Elizabeth knew that nothing would calm her mother, not even the promise of marriage to Mr. Darcy. When Mrs. Bennet decided to be this way, nothing could be of use.
Jane, looking pale and flustered took Elizabeth away from her mother while Mrs. Gardiner and Lady Lucas took off with Mrs. Bennet.
“Oh Elizabeth, my poor sister,” exclaimed Jane as she drew Elizabeth to herself when they gained entry of their apartment. “How you must have suffered! Why did you not tell me of this? I know how you dislike the very mention of Mr. Darcy and that you would sooner be caught with anyone other than with him. Of course, this is nothing but conjectures and a grave injustice against yourself.”
With tears in her eyes, Elizabeth hugged her sister gratefully. Of certain, Jane never thought ill of anybody but this profound trust in her meant the whole world to Elizabeth. She then proceeded to acquaint Jane with the entire affair of that night. Mr. Darcy’s proposal affected Jane enormously and she gazed upon Elizabeth with wide eyes.
“But my dearest sister, why could you not have accepted his offer to amend things? If you had, such vile rumours about your person and our family shall not even now be flying about!”
Elizabeth knew that it was in Jane’s personality to look for the tiniest light in all grim situations but she thought it prudent to remind her sister that Mr. Darcy was no righteous character. He could not even begin to hold a candle to other men, like Mr. Bingley, his friend.
“No, Elizabeth, no man is an angel – as there are no women who are. It would be of the gravest injustice to compare Mr. Darcy to Mr. Bingley as both men are at wide variance in disposition and character but I see no odiousness nor do I see imprudence and superciliousness. Quite reserved he is, aye, but that could hardly be considered a serious defect as we cannot expect everyone to be entirely warm to people outside of their inner circle. You must consider his proposal, Lizzy.”
“No, I shall do no such thing!” cried Elizabeth.
“Think what this would mean to our family,” entreated her sister.
“I do not love him!”
“No, Lizzy,” Jane shook her head in a rare show of obstinacy. “I am certain that beneath your dislike of him, there is a stronger emotion that draws you to him as it does him. What else could he mean by following you to the gardens at the ball in that manner? I say you would grow in love and shame even your own imaginations. And but think, Lizzy! You would teach him all there should be about laughter and civility and playfulness, I trust you will.”
To this outrageous idea, Elizabeth could say aught except, “The events of the last days have been severe on you, dear sister. I shall consider this the consequence of fatigue and distress.”
Jane insisted that she was rather of the clearest mind but the conversation was over for Elizabeth. In the safety of her bed that night, however, she found herself in deep contemplation of Jane’s words. The rest of the day had revealed no intelligence about Lydia and Wickham but had ushered in vicious tales about Elizabeth’s mercenary behaviour at Lady Beatrice’s ball. The servants had been abuzz with the news going about in town and her poor mother had lamented for the remainder of the day. She appeared severely pained at the sight of Elizabeth till she went out in a frenzied sleep in the wee hours of the night. Elizabeth could do no more but remain out of her mother’s sight and pray that Lydia was returned home soon in one piece.
Jane received from Mr. Gardiner a few lines the next day after. His letter bore more apprehension. He had found from his investigations that Wickham had no single relationship with whom he kept up any connection, and as his father was dead, he kept no ties with any family either. Though one with enough affability to engage people at first meeting, his former acquaintances were numerous; but his engagement in the militia had severed all kinds of enduring friendships. Most devastating was the state of his finances which was in most dire conditions. It was discovered by Mr. Gardiner that Wickham was owing many merchants some considerable amount and estimated no less than a thousand pounds would be necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed a formidable debt of honour in his name likewise.
Till the End of Time, Mr Darcy Page 3