by Wells, Linda
“Forgive my frustration dear, but frankly, your sister is not the easiest woman to improve.” She saw understanding in Elizabeth’s gaze and continued. “She is not without intelligence, but something is decidedly lacking in that girl. It must be an incredible absence of ambition. I truly did wish to do well by her.”
“She was taught that it would come to her if she smiled.” Elizabeth agreed. “I suppose that a lifetime of misdirection is difficult to overcome. But she did learn that it was important to display her feelings once she was sure of them.”
Lady Matlock considered that and tilted her head. “She displayed them clearly to Mr. Lucas.”
Nodding her head, Elizabeth smiled. “So she did. And seeing her with Mr. Lucas now tells me that she has always been capable of ambition and determination, but it took falling in love with the right man to bring out her strength. That is something that I can understand very well.”
“Well.” Lady Matlock sniffed and adjusted her gown. “No doubt her daughters will benefit from my efforts when Jane teaches them.”
“I am sure of that. I know my Rosalie will benefit from them.” She noted the pleasure that statement gave her and glanced at the clock.
“She will be awake soon and wish to be fed. Would you like to join me in the nursery? Our guests will not be home until this afternoon, they are taking in the sights with Jane and Reverend de Bourgh. Mary and Georgiana will be at their music lessons for some time, and you know that Fitzwilliam and Uncle Henry will be at work until we call them for luncheon.”
“Oh.” Lady Matlock frowned. “Well …”
“You could hold her and talk to her about some important subjects, just as her father does.” Elizabeth stood and was immediately joined by the elder woman. “Last night he was explaining to her the importance of sheep manure to producing a viable crop.”
She gasped then laughed. “He did not!”
“Oh yes, he did.” Elizabeth laughed and led the way upstairs. “He would have waxed on for hours if she had not fallen asleep. She is a brilliant child.”
“I hope that you were spared the subject.”
“Hmm, yes.” She paused at the door to the nursery and began to turn the handle. “I was treated to a speech on animal husbandry. Now that I was able to turn into something far more productive.” She smiled and opened the door.
“Elizabeth, you make an old woman blush.” Lady Matlock smiled and laughed. “Animal husbandry!”
“HOW DID YOU KNOW she was engaged?” Darcy asked his uncle.
Laughing, he gestured towards the doorway. “We walked in and I asked Mrs. Mercer if cupid was still flitting about and she commented that cupid does very well here.” He saw Darcy’s frown. “Come Son, she was not telling tales of you. She did not even confirm an engagement, let alone who Miss Bennet had accepted. You did that yourself.”
“I know, but Lucas should speak to Mr. Bennet before the general word goes around.”
“He is speaking to Gardiner today, is he not? And Bennet gave him full power to approve all engagements?”
“Yes.” Darcy relented. “I suppose that is true. The only reason I told you is because, well I did not want you to say anything before Bingley when he arrives, about Jane.” He met his eye. Lord Matlock chuckled again and they both looked up when Foster appeared.
“Mr. Bingley, sir.” He bowed backed out.
“Good Morning!” Bingley declared and dropped into the chair beside Lord Matlock. “It is a fine day!”
“It is.” Darcy smiled and lifted his brow. “You look the best I have seen you in a long time.”
“Making decisions suits me, I think.”
“Ah, good man, letting the idea go.” Lord Matlock nodded.
“Oh … Darcy told you I gave up my … well whatever it was for Miss Bennet? But you were pushing me, sir!” Bingley reminded him.
“I was, and I regret making you feel so obliged to continue when you were battling yourself. Part of being a man is learning when to tell other ones to back off.” He smiled to catch Bingley’s open mouth. “You did not catch that lesson did you?”
“Obviously not.” Darcy smiled. “It was a subtle one; I admit that I only realized it recently.”
“I … You were actually hoping I would tell you to …”
“Tell me to go to hell.” Lord Matlock smiled. “Never take the advice of a stranger against your heart, Son.” He tapped his chest. “Ask for an opinion, weigh it carefully, but listen to your heart. Then you are free to make terrible errors on your own, and you cannot be angry with your friends who advised against it.” Chuckling, he crossed his legs. “Well, all’s well that ends well, it seems, now that she is engaged.”
Darcy’s face reddened and he shouted, “Uncle!”
“What?” Bingley stopped smiling at his feet and his head snapped up. “Who?”
“Miss Bennet.” Lord Matlock watched his face fall. “Darcy …”
“She is engaged?” Bingley demanded of Darcy.
“I am afraid so. I did not mean to have you learn this way.” He glared at his shrugging uncle, “But yes, Lucas proposed almost as soon as she arrived yesterday and she accepted.”
Staring in silence, Bingley finally found his voice. “Not that I mind her … Could she have waited until the sun set on ONE day before she …” He sat in stunned disbelief.
“Bingley?” Darcy said softly. “Are you well?”
Lord Matlock pressed a glass of port in his hand and automatically Bingley gulped it down and coughed. “Every moment, I am happier to be away from her.”
Darcy and Lord Matlock exchanged glances. “Why is that?”
“Caroline wanted her because it would bring the connection to you,” He pointed to Lord Matlock, “You wanted her because it would make a man of me. Your wife wanted me to … I suppose because I am a catch. I am sure that her mother wanted me for the same reasons. Undoubtedly the dustman had an interest in it as well, everyone but the principal parties. I kept it up to satisfy everyone but myself, as I am sure that she did.” He sighed. “No, I kept it up because … Am I still welcome here?”
Darcy smiled and relaxed. “Elizabeth spoke of that last night. What is a family without a younger brother? You are always welcome wherever we are, for as long as you wish, and we both would be terribly hurt if you thought otherwise.”
Bingley smiled with clear relief. “Thank you. In all honesty, as kind and lovely as Miss Bennet is, and as unlike my sister as she is,” The men chuckled, “I honestly feel that her greatest attraction for me has always been all of you.” He coloured and looked at his hands. “This morning’s conversation at breakfast only cements that idea in my mind. My sister and Robinson only look at my marriage as a means to their own ends. That leaves me with the Hursts. He has his own family. I suppose that I feel rather adrift.”
“Bingley, you are family.” Darcy said quietly. “Please stop thinking that you are not.”
“I add my sentiments to that pronouncement, Son. I have grown rather fond of you.” Lord Matlock smiled. “But I will continue to try to teach you lessons.” He nodded to Darcy. “Both of you.”
“Yes, sir.” The men said in unison.
“Well what brings you here today? I understand from Darcy that you are making plans for the coming year?”
Bingley at last relaxed and sat forward, leaning on his knees and looked between his mentors. “Hurst and Louisa have agreed to the tour idea. So, what must I do?”
“Ah, excellent plan! What was that outfit you used, Darcy?”
“Mssrs. Tate, Longwood, and Jones.” He smiled. “They will gladly educate or placate you, whichever you prefer. They will even do your shopping so you need not ever leave your bed.”
“I want to see the sights, Darcy, not read about what is outside of my window.”
“Well, if your languages are not up to snuff, it will not matter, since you will likely be around Englishmen the whole time anyway.” He wrote out the address and handed Bingley a letter of intro
duction he had prepared. “Pay them a call, they will be happy to oblige.”
Looking it over, he tucked the letter into his coat. “Thank you.” He sat back and grinned. “Now, what shall we discuss? I am in no doubt that you both can fill my imagination with tales of your tours.” Lord Matlock began to launch into his well-worn story of falling from a gondola in Venice when they were interrupted.
“Sir? Mr. Stewart.” Foster bowed and the men turned to see Stewart stride rapidly into the room, then back to the door, which he closed.
Frowning, Darcy watched his friend begin pacing the floor. “What is it?”
“I had to bring you the news as soon as I heard.” He stopped his movement and beamed, “Dead! Wickham is dead! He escaped the prison hulk, and was found dead!”
“He what? How is this possible? How did he escape?” Darcy demanded.
Stewart waved his arm. “Who knows, it is not as if they are admitting anything. Likely it was bored guards not paying attention when they were working on the river, you know, finding stones for ballast on the ships? They are not chained so he probably swam away.”
“I thought that guards were held accountable for their prisoners, or did he manage to bribe one to look the other way?” Lord Matlock frowned. “This must be investigated and the prisoners better controlled.”
“Well I leave that to you and Parliament.” Stewart finally landed in a chair. “Bribes are certainly used to gain all sorts of privileges. I have heard of debtors being able to get their freedom for a few days, or even live outside of the walls. I have never heard of anyone convicted of a capital offence being able to buy his way out, of course they are hung fairly quickly. In any case, Wickham was convicted of breaking into a house and getting away with nothing.”
“He attacked Elizabeth!” Darcy bellowed.
“According to the court records, he twisted her arm and she fainted.” Stewart reminded him when he was met with his furious glare. “I am sorry, Darcy. But the salient point here is that he is dead!”
“I want to see the body.”
“Impossible.”
“I know that it is June, but surely it is still available?”
“No, he was found in an alley, still dressed in his prison rags. A letter was found on him, which identified him. His body was happily accepted by a surgeon. Lord knows what they do with it when they are done carving him up.” Stewart shuddered. “Disgusting.”
Ignoring the image, Darcy demanded more information. “What about the guard who was supposedly watching him work, what is his explanation?”
“He said he was distracted breaking up a fight.
“Likely betting on one; is more like it.” Bingley said quietly.
Lord Matlock disagreed. “No, no, if there was one, it would have been quashed quickly, they were in a public area. Now a fight within the hulk, now that I can see being allowed to continue.”
“Do you know what happened?” Darcy demanded impatiently.
“Well I am guessing that Wickham swam through the river, and went up onto the shore when he was far enough away. There was a bathhouse nearby, and he surely must have wanted to wash off the river stench, and change his clothes and appearance. There he might have got into a fight. Or maybe he never made it to the bathhouse and he was simply robbed.” Stewart mused and rubbed his chin. “Who knows, the area abounds with thugs. The river is right there after all, and there is usually a corpse or two floating about.”
“Or not.” Darcy said darkly. “I would have liked to have seen his body. Can we speak to the men who found him?”
“He is gone, Darcy. Rejoice.” Stewart smiled. “One less to feed to the sharks on the way to Australia.”
“Now that would have been a fitting end for him.” Lord Matlock muttered. “I do not like this, something seems dodgy.”
“It does.” Bingley agreed. “Do you know of any friends he might contact?”
“There was Mrs. Younge, but she has not been anywhere near the prison since we warned her off.” Darcy looked at Stewart for confirmation. “I cannot see her letting him in the door, not when she is still living at the school. Perhaps we should just check with her?”
“He is dead, Darcy.” Stewart said with frustration. “Why can you not be delighted? Instead of waiting another month for the ship to leave, you are rid of him now and forever! I thought that I would be hearing cries of joy, not muttering and teeth gnashing!”
“Forgive me, Stewart.” Darcy looked at his uncle. “I am noted for pessimism. But I will feel better sending a man to interview her.”
Lord Matlock smiled. “Go ahead, Son, confirm that at least in your mind and in the meantime, we will not look this gift horse in the mouth. Wickham is dead. Let us have a toast to the man who accomplished that feat, whoever he is.”
18 JUNE 1810
This morning I said goodbye to our guests, and my sister. Mr. Lucas simply could not stay away from Hertfordshire any longer. We tried to convince them to remain and attend the ball at St. James’s with us on our anniversary, but he flat out refused. I never appreciated how much he disliked his father’s display of pomposity with his knighthood before, but it seems that he finds it embarrassing to pretend to be more than he is, and attending St. James’s for him would, I think, be even more uncomfortable than it will be for my Fitzwilliam, who is equally unhappy with the prospect. If it was not to appease Lord and Lady Matlock, I would not wish to go either, but they demand that we make one appearance in society during our time in London, so this, I am afraid, is the chosen venue. We received an invitation from the Crearys to attend their annual ball, and I returned it with our regrets before Fitzwilliam had a chance to burn it.
Charlotte and Reverend de Bourgh managed almost an entire week spent in each other’s company. They dined here every evening, and we enjoyed frequent strolls through the park. Charlotte is not at all hesitant in showing her admiration for the Reverend; and it seems to please him to no end. He already has plans to visit Hertfordshire and meet the family within the next week, with the generous help of his brother, before he officially begins the duties involved in taking over the parish, and serving his new congregation. I think that the trip to Lucas Lodge will end with a courtship beginning. Captain de Bourgh made some reference to Charlotte’s determination to Fitzwilliam and he nearly spat out his tea and certainly blushed spectacularly. What was said remains a mystery, since my dear husband absolutely will not speak of it. I will pry it out of him one day when he least expects it, but it seems that the military can never be blotted away from this gentleman’s memory.
I am avoiding writing of the news that burdens my heart. Jane is gone back to Hertfordshire. She said there was no reason to remain in London. Mr. Lucas needs to speak to Papa and begin to prepare a space for her in Lucas Lodge. Her wedding clothes will be from the dress shop in Meryton. I can only imagine the fighting that will ensue between Mama and Lady Lucas for the wedding plans. Despite the anticipation of upheaval at Longbourn, Jane seemed as eager as Mr. Lucas to retreat as far as possible from Mayfair, and almost seemed defiant in her preparation to face Mama’s disappointed hopes when she learns that Mr. Bingley is lost forever. I wonder when she visits London again as a married woman if they will stay with us or if they will prefer Cheapside.
Fitzwilliam insisted that they use his carriage to return home. Of course it was a battle of wills between the men, but in the end, Mr. Lucas could not turn down the offer. The savings to him is significant. He also attempted to refuse the wedding gift that Fitzwilliam offered, one-thousand pounds, to match Jane’s dowry. Mr. Lucas said that he will only accept it on the condition that it be immediately invested for her should he die. He is a proud man and wishes to earn everything that is used to support his wife and family. I wonder if my dear husband would have been similar had their situations been reversed. I think that he would. I know that I will rarely see my sister again. It grieves me to accept that fact, but she seems with her engagement to have returned to her peaceful self, and that is
the woman who caught Mr. Lucas’s eye long ago. I will miss her, but I think that she is exactly where she belongs.
Darcy contemplatively put the ribbon in place and setting her journal aside, watched as she finished reading his thoughts of the day.
18 June 1810
Today I said goodbye to my sister Jane, and my future brother. I could feel the sadness between Elizabeth and Jane as they parted, but on both sides there also seemed to be an essence of acceptance and joy. Both sisters have found their places in the world, and with the right men. I know that we will see them only briefly in the future, but we will remain in their lives as much as we are able.
I now turn my attention to the other women in my life, my sister Mary, literally on the cusp of womanhood and not at all eager to embrace it, and Georgiana, who seems to have rediscovered proper manners around men. When Bingley recently visited, you would hardly have known she was in the room, so quiet was she. It confused him as much as we until Elizabeth recalled how de Bourgh had gently but firmly reminded her of her age. Perhaps having a gentleman, practically a stranger, inform her that she was inappropriate was just the voice she needed. She is withdrawn, but not shy. I realize that is a contradiction but it is the truth. My love believes that it is the security Georgiana feels in our home that gives her the confidence to display some of her self. I believe that is correct, but I cannot discount the fact that she is a very attentive observer of my wife. Both she and Mary watch her as she confidently cares for our home and daughter. I have caught Georgiana listening outside of the drawing room when Elizabeth is receiving callers, even mimicking her gestures. I asked her what she was about, if she behaved this way at Matlock House, and Georgiana blanched at the thought of doing such a thing there. I wonder at the difference and which is correct. My dear Elizabeth does not mind, she would be glad to provide Georgiana with an example, and said that she prefers being watched for education rather than to find fault!
Elizabeth laughed and closed his journal. “Do not forget dear, I once did the same. I used to try and imitate the women I observed.”