by Tilly Davis
Elizabeth found her own troubles somewhat placed in the back of her mind, the worry for Lydia now taking up much of the family’s attention.
Having struggled to dress himself, Mr. Bennet sent Kitty to Meryton to employ a trap to return and transport him to the officers’ mess where, after a short interview with the Brigadier, who was most cooperative and informed the gentleman that Mr. Wickham could well face a court-martial for his offence, it was ascertained that Mr. Wickham was most likely at an address in London which he had frequented on several occasions before.
A letter was hastily dispatched, informing Lydia that her family expected her to correspond with them immediately, and that should she deign to marry Mr. Wickham all would be forgiven. Likewise, should she choose to return to Longbourn unaccompanied the matter would also be forgotten, so long as Mr. Wickham was too.
Elizabeth now resigned herself to assisting her mother, comforting Kitty, and keeping a watchful eye upon her father who, upon returning from Meryton, had taken immediately to his bed.
3
Events in London
Mr. Darcy had ridden through the night towards London, the darkness and possible dangers of the road mattering not to him, as he determinedly put as much distance between himself and Netherfield as possible.
It was late into the night, or early in the morning, depending upon your perspective when Mr. Darcy arrived at Boodle’s, his London club. The bar of the club was just shutting up and several gentlemen who had dined there that evening, and were only just returning home, passed him as he made his way inside.
‘Mr. Darcy?’ the steward said, upon recognising the gentleman, ‘will it be your usual room, sir?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Mr. Darcy replied, removing his rather muddied travelling cloak and accepting the brandy now offered to him.
Mr. Darcy was a regular visitor to his London club, often staying there whilst on business in the capital and the staff there knew him by sight and name.
Swiftly he was ensconced in a most well-appointed bedroom and it was not long before he had fallen into sleep, grateful to now be absent from the oppressing surroundings of Netherfield.
The ride south had given him much time to think and as he rode he had come to the conclusion that he had done the right thing. No doubt a scandal would ensue, for such a high-profile engagement had already attracted considerable attention and news of its being broken off would surely arouse for more. But Mr. Darcy was confident that he could weather the storm, his one concern now his feelings for Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Mr. Darcy passed a comfortable night and rose late that morning, entering the dining room of Boodle’s at around eleven o’clock.
Breakfast was laid out on a long trestle table and he helped himself to bacon and kidneys, before settling down to read the morning papers. It was a most conducive scene and he could almost be forgiven for forgetting his current troubles.
As he ate he pondered what his next move should be. Would he write to Elizabeth? Or should he put all thoughts of her out of his mind? Would she even wish to begin an acquaintance once again? To these questions he had no answer, and so he resolved to remain in London until he could further discern his next move.
He spent the day at leisure, the bar and reading room of the club finding themselves a most suitable companion for his ponderings. Other gentlemen too were present, and as the day wore on several arrived who would be staying the night, amongst them a gentleman whom Mr. Darcy recognised as a resident of the Meryton district.
‘Is it Mr. Darcy?’ Sir William Lucas said as he settled himself by the fire to smoke and read the evening periodicals before dinner was announced.
‘It is indeed, sir,’ Mr. Darcy said from his place opposite, ‘and you are Sir William Lucas of Meryton.’
‘That is correct,’ Sir William said, ‘what brings you to town?’
‘A matter of finding myself in need of a bed,’ Mr. Darcy said.
‘Were you at Netherfield these past few days?’ Sir William asked, ‘only I know Mr. Bingley and his sister are there at the moment, do you have long before the wedding?’
At this Mr. Darcy sighed, it would soon become public knowledge that his engagement to Caroline Bingley was broken off, Sir William was bound to find out, and no doubt the club would soon be filled with idle gossip as to the matter.
‘The engagement is called off,’ he said, ‘a matter of differences.’
‘I see,’ Sir William said, ‘it seems to be the season for the calling off of marriage.’
‘And what do you mean by that?’
‘Only that our dear family friend Miss Elizabeth Bennet has also found her marriage unrealised, I understand you yourself were there?’
‘I was indeed,’ Mr. Darcy replied, ‘as you say, it would seem to be the season.’
‘Well, you have my condolences, sir, at your own misfortune, though one should never feel so wedded to a marriage that one is duty-bound to it, if you’ll excuse the turn of phrase.’
‘Of course, sir,’ Mr. Darcy said, ‘as you say, at times these things cannot be helped. Do you find yourself here on business?’
‘Well, yes, I shall be here for some days, I have several interests here in the city, nothing like your own, of course, but I maintain my connections in political circles, once a politician always a politician, that sort of thing. It seems then that we shall be billeted in one another’s company, Mr. Darcy. You know, I did in fact see Miss Bennet just yesterday morning, and she spoke of you.’
At this Mr. Darcy looked up.
‘And in what manner did she speak?
‘In a most favourable manner, sir, lamenting her own lack of forthrightness in your initial friendship. I of course told her that it was none of her business to be forthright in such a situation, but she seemed resigned to your having betrothed yourself to Caroline Bingley, though no doubt she will soon hear what you have just told me.’
At that moment, the gong sounded and the gentlemen in the room rose to take their places in the dining room, Sir William led away by several notable politicians whilst Mr. Darcy, favouring his own company, sat alone.
But all through dinner he found himself reflecting upon Sir William’s words, and by the time the sweet course arrived, the famous Boodle’s food for which the club is so renowned, he had come to the conclusion that he must question Sir William further on the circumstances surrounding the events he had recounted. Not only discovering more of Elizabeth’s words to Sir William the day before, but also more as to the nature of her marriage agreement to Mr. Collins. For it seemed that perhaps Sir William held the key to the truth about Elizabeth, and her true feelings for him.
‘Mr. Darcy, may I disturb you for a moment,’ Sir William said the next morning as the two sat in the smoking room at Boodle’s.
Mr. Darcy had passed a restless night, owing as much to the rich club food as to the words spoken the night before by the gentleman who now stood before him.
‘Yes, of course, won’t you sit down?’ Mr. Darcy said, grateful for the interruption, for he had hoped to continue last night’s conversation, waiting for an appropriate time to disturb Sir William from his business.
‘I know that you have a vested interest in the affairs of the Bennets,’ Sir William began, ‘and so I have taken it upon myself to share this letter which I received this morning at breakfast, would you read it?’
Somewhat surprised Mr. Darcy took the letter now proffered to him by Sir William and began to read, thinking that it must concern Elizabeth. But it did not.
My Dear William,
I am writing to you upon a most delicate matter, and one for which I should ask not only for your help but also your discretion.
As you are well aware a regiment of the infantry are currently billeted in Meryton, the officers having recently returned from their sojourn at Netherfield. Amongst them is a Mr. Wickham with whom my two youngest daughters having recently become acquainted.
Such a fact should not surprise you, your
study window facing the road between Longbourn and the village, you having no doubt witnessed Lydia and Kitty on their frequent walks.
But it has now transpired that Mr. Wickham and Lydia have been in regular correspondence for some time, this culminated in my youngest daughter taking it upon herself to accept Mr. Wickham’s offer of transport to London where both are now residing together, the thought of marriage, I fear, somewhat distant from their minds.
I realise that my request now is something of an impropriety, however, if you should have the time and inclination I should be most grateful if you might call upon the following address and ascertain the conditions under which Lydia is now living, if only to satisfy her mother who, as you can imagine, is somewhat distressed by the situation.
24 Ellingdon Crescent
City of London
I thank you too for your words to Elizabeth and kindness in offering her the continued hospitality of your home, her friendship with Charlotte truly is a blessing.
I intend to travel to London myself but, as I have confided in you, my health is ailing and by the time I should be able to arrive it may be too late to effect any form of influence over my youngest daughter.
With my sincere thanks, and I remain ever yours truly
Signed etc.
At reading these words Mr. Darcy let out an involuntary gasp, Wickham was a fiend and he knew all too well what his intentions were, they were certainly not marriage, that much had been certain in the man’s dealings with his own sister.
‘I must of course assist,’ Sir William said, ‘but I am an old man, and I should feel far more comfortable should you accompany me, Mr. Darcy, perhaps the gentleman in question could turn violent if provoked.’
‘Oh, he is a treacherous one,’ Mr. Darcy said, ‘and make no mistake about that.’
‘You are acquainted with this, er, Wickham?’
‘I am indeed, sir, for my own sins.’
And Mr. Darcy recounted the tale of his dealings with Mr. Wickham, and the manner in which he had attempted to treat Georgiana Darcy.
‘Then it is imperative that we visit the address at once,’ Sir William said, ‘the young girl’s honour is at stake, and the Bennets have had enough tragedy already without adding further scandal to it.’
‘You believe Elizabeth has caused a scandal?’ Mr. Darcy asked, as the two called for their overcoats and hats to be brought, a carriage commissioned by the steward to take them to Ellingdon Crescent.
‘I do not believe she has, no, sir, far worse had she married Mr. Collins, but in my dealings with Elizabeth it seems clear to me that it is thoughts of you, sir, that fill her mind at this current moment. I, of course, told her that it would not be appropriate for her to pursue such a liaison, you being betrothed and she being the female party, but now that one of those conditions is dismissed perhaps the time has come for you to seek her favour. Come now though, we have another Bennet to concern ourselves with.’
The carriage was pulled up outside the club and both gentlemen climbed in, imploring the driver to make all haste towards Ellingdon Crescent, that road being a collection of tenements and apartments close to St. Paul’s cathedral.
‘Now, Mr. Darcy,’ Sir William said as they approached the house, ‘I shall address Mr. Wickham on behalf of Lydia’s father, I doubt that the young lady will deign to accompany us today, and even if she did I do not know to where we would take her, Boodle’s is no place for young ladies.’
‘No ladies at all,’ Mr. Darcy said, for Boodle’s was exclusively a gentleman’s club, and no women were permitted within its hallowed, and rather stuffy, walls.
‘Indeed, our role is to ascertain Wickham’s intentions, if they be honourable then so be it, I shall relay the information to her father.’
‘Perhaps if I may speak to the gentleman alone,’ Mr. Darcy said, ‘after all, he and I have something of a history together, I might have more with which to persuade him.’
‘I wish for no violence,’ Sir William said, ‘that would not do at all.’
‘No violence, sir,’ Mr. Darcy said, as the carriage pulled up outside the house.
The tenement was as had been described, a rather shabby house divided into apartments, it was neither the best part of town nor the worst and if Miss Lydia Bennet was indeed housed here with Mr. Wickham then she had certainly lowered herself from Longbourn.
Sir William asked the carriage driver to wait for them and he and Mr. Darcy stepped down onto the street which was churned up owing to recent rainfall.
‘Number 24,’ Sir William said, as they now stood outside a large black door marked with the number, ‘does one simply knock?’
Mr. Darcy took matters into his own hands and first trying the door he found it to be locked, before proceeding to rap upon it with his stick.
‘You won’t get in like that,’ a woman said, she had been watching the proceedings and now came over to the two gentlemen, ‘who are you after?’
‘A Mr. Wickham, madam,’ Sir William said, ‘we have reason to believe he is here with an acquaintance of ours.’
‘These are tenements, there’s any number of people in there, for good or ill,’ the woman said, ‘you’re better off calling from down here and see if they raise the window for you.’
‘Or break the door in,’ Mr. Darcy said.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that, sir,’ the woman said, ‘you’ll have the magistrate on you for that and make no mistake.'
Frustrated at the situation, Sir William and Mr. Darcy stood on the street and in a most undignified fashion bellowed the names of Wickham and Lydia up at the house.
Momentarily a window was opened and a figure who was neither George nor Miss Bennet shouted to them to ‘keep the bleedin’ noise down,’ proceeded by the contents of a chamber pot which narrowly avoided striking Mr. Darcy who took a swift step back.
‘Dear Lord in heaven,’ Sir William said, ‘what is this awful place we have come to?’
Mr. Darcy had by now lost his temper and he once more shouted at the top of his voice.
‘George Wickham, if you do not show yourself this instant I shall have the magistrate summoned and the officers at Greenwich, and you shall be returned to Meryton for court-martial this very day.’
With this threat, the sound of another window opening, one floor further up, came and the head of Mr. George Wickham appeared, looking somewhat bewildered as he gazed down upon the two gentlemen standing on the street below.
‘You treacherous swine,’ Mr. Darcy continued, ‘where is Lydia?’
At that moment, the face of Lydia herself appeared, looking quite the silly little girl she was, her face made up with rouge, a wide smile across her face.
‘Lydia, thank heavens,’ Sir William said, ‘do you know the trouble you have caused your father and mother?’
‘I have written to them,’ the girl replied.
‘Yes, she has written to them and informed them she is quite safe,’ Mr. Wickham said, placing his arm around Lydia’s shoulder.
‘Would you permit us to come in?’ Sir William said, ‘your mother and father are most anxious to ascertain your conditions.’
‘And no doubt carry her off too,’ Mr. Wickham said, ‘Lydia is perfectly safe with me, I should not allow any harm to come to her.’
‘It is not others we are concerned with,’ Mr. Darcy said.
At that moment, the chamber pot throwing resident appeared again, threatening further retaliation if the ‘bleedin’ noise’ did not desist. And Mr. Wickham, tired of what he perceived to be the questioning of his honour, though where that lay was anybody’s guess, permitted them to come inside.
It was Lydia who came down to open the door and she assured Sir William that all was well as she led them up the dingy stairway to the top floor of the building, where a door was open, leading into a sparsely furnished apartment.
‘And so you see, gentlemen,’ Mr. Wickham said, ‘all is well.’
‘’What a dreadful hovel,’ Sir William said,
‘Lydia, your mother and father would be shocked to see you living in such conditions.’
‘She has a roof over her head, food and warmth, and my company too,’ Mr. Wickham said, ‘what more should she wish for?’
‘To stop this silliness and go about things in the proper manner,’ Sir William replied. ‘Lydia, you cannot simply disappear off to Meryton one morning and then allow yourself to be taken away in this manner, what are your intentions?’
‘Well, we are in love, aren’t we, George?’ Lydia said, taking hold of Mr. Wickham’s hand and looking gushingly at him.
‘Very much so,’ he said, patting her hand.
‘But these conditions, you cannot remain here, you must return to Longbourn,’ Sir William said.
‘Only if mother and father assent to my and George’s attachment,’ Lydia said, ‘they constantly treat me like a child and I am tired of it.’
‘Then stop behaving as one,’ Mr. Darcy said.
‘And what right do you have to tell me what to do, particularly after the way you and your friend treated my sisters,’ Lydia said, rounding upon the gentleman.
‘Hear, hear,’ Mr. Wickham said, for he was no friend of Mr. Darcy, their history, as we have noted, a troubled one.
To these words of Lydia, Mr. Darcy had no response and he simply looked away in some embarrassment, but asserting himself he turned again and addressed Mr. Wickham.
‘I should like to speak to you alone, sir,’ he said.
‘Whatever you have to say can be said in front of me,’ Lydia said, beginning to cry a little, for she was, indeed, far too young for the full weight of emotion which this entire episode had placed upon her.