“With respect, my fair cousin, it seems Mr. Darcy aims to help us. Should we not accept all the help we can get? I, for one, am glad of it, Mr. Darcy. And I am the one who shall feel it most keenly. After all, I shall inherit Longbourn and I am only too aware that I and my wife shall feel the full force of any further scandal.”
Elizabeth grimaced. She had still not grown used to Mr. Collins’s way of speaking. His trite remarks would always grate on her, she felt sure. “My father is still the master of Longbourn House. I should thank you not to forget that.” She wished—and not for the first time—that one of Jane’s two girls had been born a boy. It would give her far more comfort to know that Bingley would be master of Longbourn in the future and not Mr. Collins. After all, it now seemed likely that she would spend the rest of her life reliant on the kindness of whichever of her brothers-in-law inherited the place.
“Yes, we must not dwell on such things. With any luck, we shall reach an agreement with the man.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to swallow back her resentment. As angry as she was with him, Darcy was right. It was imperative that they concentrate their energies on finding a solution.
“I take it that we left before any agreement could be reached.” She already knew this was true from what Hardy had said, but she very much wished to hear what the men had discussed when the ladies left. “Did he give any indication of a willingness to forgive some of the debt?”
“I do not think,” Mr. Collins said before either of the other two could answer. “That this is the kind of matter that we ought to discuss in the presence of ladies.”
She shook her head. She was well aware of Mr. Collins’s views on the matter. She supposed she might wait until they had returned home and he had taken his leave. After all, what did it matter if she heard the account now or an hour later?
Yes, she thought. She would check on Jane and then find Bingley and Darcy, who would surely apprise her of what had gone on.
Darcy cleared his throat. “I am afraid I must agree with Mr. Collins. It would not be prudent to discuss it with you. In any case, we discussed nothing of note.”
Chapter Six
She knew he was lying, but what was she to do? There was no sense in starting an argument in the carriage. She frowned. It was rather curious to her that Darcy had first refused to discuss the conversation with her and then gone on to suggest that nothing significant was said. After all, if nothing important had been said, why would he have needed to declare the matter unsuitable for her ears?
She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the seat as the carriage clattered through the night. What could have gone on? She already knew all of the circumstances that had led to them having to dine with Hardy. She had heard all the sordid details of George Wickham’s gambling habits.
So what was so unpleasant it could not now be uttered? Perhaps Mary’s presence was the reason for the men’s reticence.
The silence drew out. The journey home seemed to take far longer than it had taken to get to Hardy’s house. She supposed they had been full of nervous energy on the way there and now there was a sense of hopelessness as they all tried to accept that a solution still had not been found.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a long sigh from her sister.
“I do not think any of you will believe what we learned from the man’s wife.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flew open.
“What did you learn, my dear?” Mr. Collins asked, with the air of someone who was humouring his wife for the sake of present company.
“I am not sure I can even utter such wicked things aloud.” Mary was trembling so violently that Elizabeth could feel her move.
“Oh come now, my darling sister. We must not bore the gentlemen by telling them at length of the silly trivialities that entertain young ladies. They shall think us vacuous in the extreme!”
“But Lizzy—”
“No!” Elizabeth cried, trying to sound jolly and unconcerned. “They shall not be interested, Mary. I have not ever met a gentleman who was the slightest bit interested in hearing about needlepoint—no matter how complicated.”
The men were silent. Elizabeth dug an elbow into her sister’s side and held it there. She stopped short of ordering her sister to say no more on the subject, since the men’s attentions were still firmly on them.
“What is wicked about needlepoint?” Mr. Darcy asked after several minutes of silence.
Elizabeth sighed. It was late and they were all tired. There was nothing to be gained from telling them the truth and allowing them all to go to bed angry. They needed to rest and recuperate if Darcy was telling the truth and a solution still had not been reached.
“Nothing at all. It was hyperbole; that is all. My sister is tired just as we all are. She took issue with something Mrs. Hardy said about needlepoint. That is the whole of it.”
Darcy cleared his throat. What ought to have been an innocent sound seemed to Elizabeth to communicate his simultaneous distaste and suspicion. Oh, how she loathed the man for the things he had said that night, and yet at the same time there was no end to her admiration of his frankness!
After another half hour, the silence was shattered by a desperate wail. Elizabeth jumped, fearing that some wild animal had leapt atop the carriage. It took her several moments to realise that the dreadful sound had come from right beside her.
“Mary, you must not frighten us like that; not on a night like tonight when our nerves are already ragged.”
“I cannot help it,” Mary sobbed. “This is all so very unfair. Why should my dear husband be punished for our sister’s behaviour? Why? Nobody has even considered it.”
“We have; of course we have. And it is not just Mr. Collins who will be affected. It is all of us. And Mr. Bingley too.”
The latter shifted in his seat but said nothing. He was too polite to declare it a burden on him, though it could not have been anything else.
Mary sniffed. “Yes, of course, but Longbourn… And now we have failed to reach an agreement. We are ruined! How can it have happened? Oh, may the Lord forgive me, but I rue the day Lydia was ever born into our family! She has caused us nothing but pain and suffering ever since!”
Chapter Seven
The party retired to their beds just as soon as they returned to Radcliffe House. They were tired and agitated, and none had any desire to stay up and talk. Elizabeth was careful to linger until she was sure Mary had no intention of returning downstairs.
What was she to do? The invitation to Hardy’s home had been nothing more than a show of power on that wicked man’s part—they had all agreed on that. That he had seen fit to have them believe a young lady of ill-repute was his wife was a further insult to them. Even that could be forgotten.
It was Miss Price’s gleeful declaration that Hardy intended to see them penniless that bothered her the most. What if he was toying with them—making them believe that a solution could be reached while he secretly plotted their downfall?
She sighed as she made her way up the stairs. She knew she must tell them what they were dealing with, but she would not do it tonight. What was the sense in it? Let them have one more restful night before she told them. Besides, Miss Bingley had already been curious and somewhat slighted at being excluded from the evening. Elizabeth had no doubt that that young lady’s interest would be piqued if they gathered in the drawing-room to talk at such a late hour. She had much to do if she was going to successfully head off Miss Bingley’s curiosity and she was in no fit state to begin that task now.
She decided against checking on Jane. She might have been able to hide her worry from the others, but Jane was different. She would know immediately that something was troubling her and Elizabeth did not have the heart to lie to her beloved sister.
* * *
Elizabeth awoke early. She was awake before the dawn. She lay in her bed, listening as it grew brighter outside. The birdsong that usually delighted her had no such effect that morni
ng. All she could think of was the dire situation she now found herself in. She sighed. In a way, she knew she ought to be accustomed to such crises, which had plagued her family since the winter of 1811.
She sighed as she recalled the events of that season. Her memory of the time leading up to it was hazy. She recalled all that had happened, but had little memory of the order it had all occurred. Bingley had proposed to Jane and caused great delight and merriment in their household. Elizabeth had suspected that Mr. Collins intended to propose marriage to her. Thus she had gone to great lengths to be indispensable to her elder sister as she hurried around Meryton making plans for her wedding.
As it turned out, Elizabeth had no cause to worry. Mr. Collins soon found a kindred spirit in Mary, who had declared all the breathless wedding plans to be nothing more than silly folly. Collins and Mary were married not long after the Bingleys—a rather more subdued celebration than the latter had thrown.
After that, the joy had only intensified! They had spent that winter traipsing between Longbourn and Netherfield. Then the spring had come and she had accepted Mary’s invitation to visit the rectory in Kent. She had returned to Hertfordshire and delighted in the news that Jane was with child. The lengthening days had been idyllic as they walked in the parkland and made plans for the future. It had not bothered Elizabeth one bit that she was still unmarried. She was thrilled for her sister and optimistic about her own future.
The summer months were just as peaceful and pleasant as the months before it, until that fateful day when her father opened that letter that had come by express from Brighton.
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed. The blame did not lie with any one person in particular. They had all been so caught up in the marriages and happy news that nobody had paid much attention to Lydia. She could not recall her parents putting up much of an objection to Lydia travelling to Brighton with the ---shire regiment. Perhaps it might have been different if they had not been so distracted with their own lives.
But they had been distracted. And so it was that Lydia—having been left unsupervised and in the inadequate care of Mrs. Forster, who was scarcely older than she was—eloped with Mr. Wickham.
Eloped, Elizabeth thought sadly. Good heavens, for a time Elizabeth had been somewhat envious of her younger sister, for she had thought Wickham was a charming young gentleman and she had gotten along rather well with him. Then, of course, there had been no word from the newlyweds and the reality began to dawn on them.
It had not taken long for the truth about Wickham to emerge. When the young couple was eventually found, it soon became apparent that Wickham had never intended to take a wife. Not until the family met his financial demands, in any case.
She sighed and threw off the covers, knowing there was little sense in dwelling on the past. She dressed quickly and made her way upstairs, unable to believe her luck when she encountered Miss Bingley on the landing outside her sister’s room.
“Miss Bingley, good morning,” she said, nodding her head.
Caroline Bingley smiled thinly. She was no fool. She had always been perfectly cordial in the presence of Jane and Charles, but it was obvious that she had little regard for her sister-in-law’s family.
“I was just coming to check on my sister. Perhaps you might fetch me a bowl of hot water from the kitchen.”
Caroline’s face dropped. “You would like me to fetch you some water?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, smiling pleasantly. This scheme she had dreamt up gave her little pleasure, but she reminded herself it was not about pleasure. It was about saving her family from any more scandal and preventing their reputation from being damaged any further. “You do not need to run immediately, but if you could fetch it soon that would be wonderful.”
Miss Bingley was as still and rigid as a stone. In fact, Elizabeth had never seen her so angry. It was understandable, of course. It had been perfectly acceptable to ask her to stay behind the night before and keep Jane company, but it was less so to ask her to carry out duties that might have been more reasonably assigned to a maid.
“Miss Bennet, have you gone entirely mad?”
“No, of course not. Whatever gave you that impression?”
Miss Bingley made a face. She had been in a foul mood ever since they departed the day before, and Elizabeth imagined this was hardly helping her spirits.
“My sister is with child,” Elizabeth went on quickly before her companion had a chance to reply. “Surely you understand she would welcome a hot cloth to the brow.”
“If you are so concerned for her comfort then perhaps you ought to have remained here with her last night.”
Elizabeth did much not care how angry Caroline Bingley became so long as she remained ignorant of the true purpose of their dinner the evening before. In fact, the angrier she became the better. With any luck she might storm off in a fit of rage and leave them alone to try and come up with a solution to their problem.
“You made that choice when you opted to live with my sister and her husband. It is only natural that you be expected to help from time to time when they need it.”
“You could have helped.”
“I arrived two days ago. I do not live here.”
“I am not a maid.”
“No-one claimed you are. Surely you understand you are expected to help out.”
“Just wait,” Caroline said bitterly, “until you find yourself expected to act as a maid.”
Elizabeth tried to keep her reaction from her face. Miss Bingley was right, of course. Elizabeth was almost twenty-five and unmarried. It was likely that she would find herself in the position of caring for one of her sisters’ children in return for a roof over her head and food on her plate. Indeed, she was in a far worse position than Miss Bingley, whose fortune was vastly larger than the modest sum Elizabeth would inherit from her mother.
Despite all of that, she knew she must carry on this distasteful conversation. For all her faults, Miss Bingley was not a stupid woman and it was critical that she accept this as the reason they had excluded her. Unfortunately, Jane had always tried not to be a burden on her sister-in-law, so it was not like she was used to helping around the place.
“Yes, perhaps I shall end up living in one of my sisters’ homes and depending on their kindness,” Elizabeth said, trying her best to sound indifferent.
“Of course you shall! Do you think anyone shall deign to marry you now?”
“If that is my fate. Then I shall accept it. Perhaps you ought to do the same. My sister has been too good to you. She is too kind to ask for your help. I am not.”
Miss Bingley’s eyes flashed with anger. “Do not tell me you look down on me. You! Of all people.”
Miss Bingley, of course, knew what had gone on when they had been forced to search London for Lydia and Wickham. That was part of the reason they had decided to keep this new scandalous turn of events secret from her. She had never forgiven the Bennet sisters for involving her brother, though she was wise enough not to mention that in her brother’s company.
“You must know, Miss Bingley, that in the eyes of society you are no better than I am.”
“No better than you are?” Miss Bingley stood up to her full height and fussed with her skirt. “How can you say such a thing when your family is the reason for my brother’s reduced means? I wish with all my heart that he had not met your sister. Then I might have a vast house in town in which to entertain my equals in society.”
Elizabeth winced, pained by the knowledge that such cruel words had been uttered in her sister’s home by someone she adored. The only mercy was Miss Bingley was calculating enough to have checked no-one was around before saying such a wicked thing. And that Jane was too good-natured to even contemplate her sister-in-law saying such a thing.
“Yes, well.” Elizabeth had prepared herself to hear these things, but even so, it pained her greatly to recall their great shame. The worst part was it was true.
It had not been her father or her
uncle who had resolved the Lydia situation—it had been Bingley. He had been a member of their family not even a year when he had felt duty-bound to meet George Wickham’s demands at a great expense to himself. She did not think there would ever come a time when she would not feel ashamed of it.
Miss Bingley laughed. “You know I am right. You owe my family more than you could ever repay. And yet I am the one who is called upon to sit by your sister’s side while you all ride off in your finest clothes? It is nothing short of scandalous.”
“It was your brother’s goodness, not yours. Do not forget that. It was never your fortune.” It pained her to sound so ungrateful, but it was necessary. “Of course you are the one who is called on to tend to her. It is only natural. You live here with them.”
“This is no ordinary situation.”
“You are as much of a draw on your brother’s generosity as my family. And I must remind you—they are his family now too. We all are. Perhaps you might like to share your feelings about Jane with your brother. I warn you, though—he is not likely to side with you over his sweet, good-hearted wife.”
Miss Bingley reddened. She stamped her foot on the floor. “You will regret speaking to me like this. I may find myself in an inferior position now, but it will not be long before I find myself in a position more appropriate for a woman of my upbringing!”
Elizabeth’s confusion must have been evident because Miss Bingley carried on before she could even react.
“When I marry Darcy I shall not have to tolerate your insufferable family.”
Elizabeth felt a stab of envy that thoroughly confused her. It was nonsense, was it not? The man had been in Bengal since his departure from Netherfield. He had only just arrived back in England.
“You will see. He was very fond of me then and his affection has only grown since then.”
“Aha, so there has been no hint that he might seek your hand then.” Elizabeth blinked, wondering why she sounded so triumphant. After all, what did she care whom Miss Bingley married? If anything it might be of benefit to them to have her distracted in that way.
Darcy’s Second Chance Page 3