by D. L. Carter
“No, you will not,” declared Mrs. Bennet, then stared when she saw Mr. Wickham was emerging not with a smile on his lips but frowning and muttering.
“What is this?” demanded Mrs. Bennet. “Mr. Wickham. Oh, Mr. Wickham, what is the matter?”
“Pray excuse me, my dear Mrs. Bennet,” said Wickham stiffly. “Duty calls.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Darcy. “My cousin, Col. Fitzwilliam, reminds me often of the many duties of regular army men and the militia. I believe I shall write and tell him you have chosen to place yourself under the discipline of the militia. No doubt he will be pleased. The Colonel always said you would benefit from discipline!”
Mr. Wickham’s complexion paled still further but he paid a civil farewell to Mrs. Bennet, clapped his hat on his head and left. Darcy watched until the man was out of sight. Behind him Mrs. Bennet took advantage of his distraction to seek her husband.
“Oh, Mr. Bennet, Mr. Bennet,” cried Mrs. Bennet, “what is going forward? What have you done? You must apologize to Mr. Wickham, and Mr. Darcy, he must as well. I am certain there has been some insult rendered to our guest and Mr. Wickham so charming and considerate and so attentive to our Lizzy. Mr. Darcy does not know him as we do. Say you will apologize!”
“Mrs. Bennet,” said her husband. “Believe me when I say my head aches today, much as yours does on a regular basis. Now, please excuse me but I do not understand you. I have just this minute dismissed a fortune hunter from this house.”
“Fortune hunter?” Mrs. Bennet stopped waving her kerchief about and simply stood and stared. “A fortune hunter, here?”
Behind Darcy the breakfast room door opened and Miss Bennet emerged, eyes downcast, and rapidly retreated to the upper floor without acknowledging any person in her path. Bingley followed, equally distressed, and watched her ascent with his heart in his eyes before turning to Darcy.
“Bingley. What ails you?”
“She refused me,” whispered Bingley, as if he could not believe the words he was uttering.
“I cannot believe it, Bingley,” said Darcy. “Surely Miss Bennet did not refuse you.”
“Refuse!” shrieked Mrs. Bennet. “Oh, no. That Lizzy has set a bad example. What am I to do with such headstrong daughters? I told you nothing good would come of not sending her to Scotland!”
Elizabeth heard her name and came out to investigate. At a gesture from Darcy, Elizabeth nodded and darted upstairs after her sister.
“Explain please,” demanded Mr. Bennet, beckoning both men into his room.
Bingley and Darcy obeyed. Mrs. Bennet, uninvited, trailed along behind them, weeping into her battered kerchief.
“Mr. Bennet,” said Bingley. “Please let me tell you that I hold your daughter Jane in the highest regard. Indeed, it would make me the happiest of men to call her my wife, but … ”
When Mrs. Bennet’s face transformed to joy and she drew breath to speak her husband silenced her with one upraised finger.
“But, Mr. Bingley?”
“But, Miss Jane, my dearest Jane is such a kind, caring angel, she has said that she cannot seek her own happiness while there is a cloud over her family. She would rather remain unwed and stay to comfort and support her sisters and mother than abandon them.”
“Are you planning on taking my daughter out of this county, sir?” demanded Mr. Bennet.
The question startled Bingley.
“No, sir, I have no immediate plans. I am quite settled at Netherfield.”
“And you know, do you not, that her dowry is small. One fifth share of five thousand pounds in the exchange.”
“Yes, that is nothing to me, sir. I have funds of my own. Both, if you forgive me, income from my father’s trading company as well as money invested in the exchange.”
“Then you do not expect an inheritance with her hand in marriage?”
“Mr. Bennet,” cried his wife. “What are you about? What inheritance?”
“My dear Mrs. Bennet,” said her husband, “only this! That is why I have recently ordered a young man from my house. Mr. Wickham was here declaring that Jane, when she inherits Longbourn, will need an experienced land manager to maintain and attend to her estate, therefore did he offer himself to guide and advise her in the capacity of her husband.”
“That is very true,” said his wife. “And if Wickham marries Lizzy, it will be better than she deserves,” she shot a narrow look at Darcy, “since some people cannot be convinced to grant the man preferment, and Wickham can take care of Longbourn when you are gone!”
“Wickham did not ask for Lizzy's hand, Mrs. Bennet, but for Jane!” declared her husband.
“Wickham could not do that,” said Darcy. “Mr. Bennet, I assure you. I have known him my whole life. The elder Wickham served my father as steward and did so very well. Both my father and his knew that George Wickham would never serve in the capacity of steward. Wickham has no such skill and knowledge. He avoided all work to do with the estate while his father lived, and was a disappointment to his mother.”
“Well then, if that is what you think,” began Mrs. Bennet, “all the more reason that he should go into the church.”
“He is more likely to gamble and drink any profits generated by an estate in his charge than to invest them, just as he did with the three thousand pounds I gave him in lieu of the living of Kimpton!” declared Darcy.
“Three thousand,” repeated Mrs. Bennet thoughtfully.
“Think, madam,” continued Darcy. “If he had managed the money well he would not have had to enlist in the militia. He could have lived on the interest but he did not. He drank and engaged in all manner of degeneracy and now it is all gone and he is seeking your family estate to leech himself upon. Mr. Bennet, I urge you to speak to the shopkeepers of Meryton. Ask them the degree of debt Wickham has accrued in the short time he has been here. It will be a frightening amount, I assure you, and stand as proof of his untrustworthiness.”
“It would not surprise me,” said Mr. Bennet. “Most young men are fools with money. Now, dear wife, sit down and do not overtax yourself. Let me explain. I find I do not trust any man who comes and petitions for a courtship with my eldest daughter the self same week in which the gossip about town reports she is now the heiress of Longbourn. As Mr. Darcy has pointed out, I have no reason to expect he acts from sincere attachment, not with his history of changing his attentions from our Lizzy, to Miss King and sniffing about after any young lady alleged to have funds, and only coming to call upon Jane when the story circulated about Jane’s inheritance. No, indeed. I do not trust him at all.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Darcy. “You do relieve my mind.”
“Yes, indeed,” added Bingley.
“Your mind, is it?” Mr. Bennet stared at his guest for a moment before turning to Mr. Bingley. “I value my daughters, gentlemen. If Jane has your heart, Mr. Bingley, then good luck to you both. I cannot order her to marry you. I can only encourage you to continue as you have. Since you have no need for Longbourn I do not judge you a fortune hunter and as I married into a family in trade, I do not despise the origin of your money.”
Bingley considered this speech for a while, frowning.
“Cheer up, Bingley,” said Darcy, taking pity on his friend. “You have permission to continue to call, while Mr. Wickham is routed. Are you not pleased?”
“Yes. Yes. That is excellent news. Thank you, Mr. Bennet.”
“Yes, indeed. And I hope, young man, one day to have you tracking mud over my carpet again. But for now, I would prefer some solitude.”
“Yes. Thank you. Thank you,” said Bingley backing away.
Darcy watched with amusement, which faded the instant he caught Mrs. Bennet’s pursed-lipped expression. He gave a faint bow in her direction.
“Bingley,” said Darcy. “Since Miss Bennet has taken to her room, perhaps it would be better to give her time to consider your proposal and feel the pain of your absence. We should leave.”
Before Mrs. Bennet
could protest, Darcy took his friend by the arm and guided him toward the door. Mrs. Hill appeared almost immediately with their hats and gloves.
“How long before she is knocking on my dear Jane’s door, do you think,” inquired Bingley?
“She is there already,” said Darcy. “Poor girl.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Shall Jane yield to her mother, do you think?” asked Bingley when they’d ridden a mile.
“Would you respect her if she did?”
Bingley shook his head. “Oh, she won’t. My Jane has a whim of stone. Gentle, kind, respectful, and if you offend her you will learn to regret it.”
“This is new,” said Darcy, rather startled. “I thought you regarded her as the possessor of all the gentle virtues.”
“I have just had the benefit of a conversation with Jane in which she was quite comprehensively clear on why and when she would grant me her hand. I was astonished. Until that moment I did not value her as I should.”
“And you are pleased at her intransigence? She has not frightened you away?”
“Actually, I do find it rather pleasing. I can trust her to be strong when it is necessary. I am a rather easily led fellow, as you are well aware. It is good to know my wife will set me straight when required.” Bingley beamed as he contemplated his beloved but the smile quickly faded. “She will not yield to her mother. She is determined not to wed until the scandal hanging over the family is gone and they are returned to the bosom of society. Darcy, there must be something that can be done.”
“Beyond what we do already?”
“Oh, if only my sisters were not so stubborn. We could send out announcements of a dinner in their honor, when the mourning period is over, or plan another ball. I would like that.”
“You like to dance, Bingley. Any excuse would please you, but…” Darcy rose in his stirrups and squinted into the light. “Isn’t that Lydia?”
The light figure of a girl was running up the country road toward Longbourn.
“Walking to Meryton, I’ll be bound,” said Bingley.
“Coming back, it seems.” Darcy shook his head. “Foolish child. Of all the Bennet girls the one I would most think would bring the family scandal.”
“They do not need more trouble.” Bingley nodded to himself. “When I visit on the morrow I will advise Mr. Bennet we have seen the girl out on the roads.”
“That would best.”
They turned up the driveway toward Netherfield and were surprised when no footmen or stablemen appeared to take their horses. They dismounted and waited.
Eventually Caroline Bingley appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Well, you have decided to come back, have you?”
“I live here,” her brother informed her.
“Over my protests and not for much longer,” declared Caroline, folding her arms across her bosom. “I warned you that this neighborhood was not to be borne. Not fashionable. Not anything like what our father wanted for us. Too far from London. No parliamentary seat for you to assign. No society. But no, you impulsively took it and now see what you have done? Well, I shall not stand for it. Mr. Hurst and Louisa have departed for London this morning. They expect us to join them in your London house by the end of the week.”
“I thought they were rusticating with you for financial reasons,” murmured Darcy, and Bingley nodded.
“You note,” said Bingley, “that they have gone to my London house and not their own.”
“You are the head of the household and must set an example,” continued Caroline. “Society judges us all by your actions.”
“So kind of you to remember,” muttered Bingley.
“But you are not acting the part so it is up to me. Up to us. Well, the Holland covers are going up, the staff have been notified they will be dismissed at the end of the week and there is nothing left but for your valet to finish packing. Tomorrow we depart for London. Mr. Darcy, I do hope you shall accompany us.”
“We shall not,” corrected Bingley. “In one place you have been correct, Caroline, I have not been acting the head of the family. I have deferred to you too often. But as of today it matters not if you come or go. I have made Miss Jane Bennet the offer of my hand and so I hope to install her here as mistress of Netherfield in the near future. Your time as my hostess is over. You may leave with my blessing and begin looking about for another situation. Perhaps you should concern yourself less with my marriage and find one of your own. Now, please excuse me, I must speak again with the housekeeper. Obviously she did not take me seriously last night and I must give my orders over again. I am staying. The servants are staying and so, bless him, is Darcy.”
Caroline pressed a hand to her heart and staggered back.
“No. No. It cannot be true. Mr. Darcy, why did you not stop him?”
“I support him in this. Miss Bennet shall make him a fine wife. They are everything compatible in sensibility and personality. I wish them happy.”
“Therefore, Caroline,” continued Bingley. “Leave if you must. I am staying so I may be near my angel. We may send you an invitation to the wedding, if you promise to comport yourself appropriately.”
“How can you say that when her family is the one scandal ridden?”
“It is not their fault,” said Darcy. “There is nothing to be done. Malicious gossips have taken the Bennet women and cast them into the nether hells for their own entertainment. Which says more about those who enjoy deriding their neighbors, than the Bennets. In time they will recover some part of their standing. With good dinners and parties they will be accepted back.” He gave Caroline a hard stare. “Because they were highly respected in the first place they have standing to recover.”
Caroline drew a sharp breath.
“That is hardly kind, Mr. Darcy.”
“I acknowledge that. And wish you a pleasant journey.”
***
“Mother, I was denied the opportunity to properly attend to the service last Sunday,” declared Mary, the next morning at breakfast. “I wonder if I might walk into Meryton and collect a copy of the text of the Lesson from the vicar?”
“Why?” Kitty giggled.
Lydia, permitted down from her room since only family were seated in the breakfast parlor, snorted: “Oh, lord, what a thing to do? As if listening to the vicar wasn’t dull enough.”
Mary looked down her nose at her sisters.
“My studies are important to me.”
“Oh, go if you must, Mary.” Mrs. Bennet waved a dismissive hand. “It hardly matters.”
Mr. Bennet watched the exchange from his place at the head of the table and made no move to retreat seeking privacy and solitude. In the last week he had spent more time with his wife and daughters than at any other point in their lives. This change was brought about initially to spare poor Elizabeth from her mother’s nerves and latterly, poor Jane from her mother's harassment. Mrs. Bennet, left unsupervised, would harangue Jane morning to night regarding the outstanding proposal from Mr. Bingley. Since the lad intended to continue with his visits Mrs. Bennet could not be trusted not to arrange a compromising event to force the marriage. Under the circumstances the family could not, should not, be forced to endure another scandal, therefore Mr. Bennet read his books in his wife’s parlor and wished advancing age would soon grant him deafness.
“Take Kitty with you,” added Mrs. Bennet. “Her cough would benefit from the air.”
“Mama, no,” protested Kitty, but fell silent when Lydia pinched her. “Oh, very well.”
“I should like a walk,” said Elizabeth, smiling at Mary. “The day looks to be fine.”
“No, indeed not, Lizzy,” said her father. “I am yet to receive an apology from Mr. Prescott and Mr. Fitzwallace. Until then I do not want you to acknowledge them.”
“Jane must stay. I expect Mr. Bingley within the hour,” said Mrs. Bennet. “Do change your dress, Jane. I am certain I heard Mr. Bingley say he prefers you in peach.”
It matters
not, mama,” said Jane with surprising firmness. “I shall receive him as I am and he shall learn to endure it.”
Kitty, who was facing the window, sighed. “Here he is. Punctual to the hour.”
“Lydia, to your room,” commanded Mr. Bennet and for once Lydia obeyed with little more than a pout in her father’s direction. At the door she stopped and waved at Kitty who rose and ran after her.
Fury darkened Mrs. Bennet’s brow.
“I don’t know what has come over you, Jane. Truly I don’t.” She glared at Elizabeth, as if trying to think of a way to blame this change in Jane on her sister. “You must think of the future, Jane. Mr. Bingley might be the last chance you get for a husband what with the scandal Lizzy has caused. I have heard he takes family dinner with Lady Lucas in a few days. She will catch him for Charlotte, if she can. She is exactly that sort of woman and cannot be trusted.”
“Where has Kitty gone?” demanded Mary. “If I must have her with me she should not make me wait.”
“But she is outside already,” said Mrs. Bennet. “I can see her passing through the gate. She must have expected you to leave immediately.”
“Oh, bother the girl,” said Mary, peering through the window. “I will not run after her. She should have waited for me.”
With that Mary departed, carefully averting her gaze so she would not have to acknowledge Mr. Bingley as he entered.
Once past that danger Mary straightened her spine and set out down the lane, her face shadowed by the wide brim of her bonnet. Her boots hit the muddy path neatly and even though there was no one to witness it, held her hands neatly folded at waist height with her reticule strings falling straight over her fingers.
Ahead she could see Kitty’s disreputable figure disappearing along the road. Her shawl finger tangled in the wind and her petticoats could be clearly seen since her stride was too long for a gentlewoman. When Mary caught her up she would try again to instruct Kitty in proper public behavior!