by Beth Poppet
Caroline Bingley had not changed in the least since she and Elizabeth had last been in company. She paid Elizabeth all the condescending welcome she thought appropriate—more condescension than welcome by far—and then with her nose held aloft, and a smirk upon her lips, she asked how the rooms they now occupied compared to her uncle’s establishment in Gracechurch Street. Elizabeth bore these ill-meant comments without the slightest desire to shame her in turn. Lydia’s predicament cast a shadow over her thoughts, and she knew that were Caroline Bingley to know of such a scandal, she would be well within her rights to refuse her admission into the house lest she be known to associate with a family degraded.
Mr Bingley had insisted upon being brought downstairs to receive Miss Bennet, and Caroline did not miss the opportunity to inform her guest on how difficult it had been to arrange the chair comfortably for her brother’s back, how many servants it took to carry him down without jostling the patient and causing further injury, and the great deal of trouble the whole ordeal was all on her account. “And yet,” she remarked airily, “I suppose some young ladies do not consider such things when chusing to call on those who are still recovering from severe accidents.”
“I had no idea of Mr Bingley still being confined to his quarters,” Elizabeth stated, “and had I known, I assure you I would not have intruded in this way. But as he is here now, and the perilous journey already made, I cannot deny how glad I am that he would honour me so by accepting me as his first guest.”
Mr Bingley nodded heartily, adding his own defence of her. “And I won’t deny how dreadfully dull it can be, sitting in the same chair hour after hour, watching the same park day after day. How glad I am to have you call on us, Miss Bennet. The only respite I have from the monotony is when Darcy comes about, and he has made himself scarce on some very pressing business ever since the colonel came yesterday.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam came here?” Elizabeth queried with some surprise.
“Yes, Fitzwilliam! That’s the name,” he cried, exultant. “Funny that I should forget. A fine, and exceedingly decent fellow, to be sure! I had hoped to know more of him, but he and Darcy locked themselves away privately for several hours and then went away directly. Ever since, I’ve seen no more of the colonel, and hardly more than a few hasty greetings and farewells from Darcy. You are just the person to lift my spirits,” he went on in his cheerful manner, “and it was worth all the new bruises from my jostled journey downstairs to see you again!”
Elizabeth laughed graciously. “That is very flattering, Mr Bingley. I shall attempt to amuse you with the best of my ability and do you a good turn in thanks.”
The afternoon passed pleasantly in this way; Elizabeth’s lively conversation setting the tone of the hour, Mr Bingley’s winsome replies continuing the merriment, and Caroline occasionally deigning to join the discussion with an air that was not always full of condescension or disapproval. Elizabeth could not imagine a woman of her personality to be well suited to constant nursing, but she recognised that Caroline did the best she could for her brother, and even she could not despise Miss Bennet for cheering him and diverting her from an otherwise dull afternoon.
Elizabeth did not mean to stay as long as she did, but it had been such an appalling amount of time since she had enjoyed Mr Bingley’s agreeable conversation that the hour slipped away from her, and soon she was forced by courtesy to announce her intentions to depart. Caroline seemed more than willing to endure the deprivation of her company, and Mr Bingley made his usual good-natured invitation for her to call on them again at her earliest convenience.
As she passed through the foyer, the front door seemed to anticipate her, for it was thrown open to reveal Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam in great haste. They appeared engrossed in some serious matter, for both wore expressions of grave concern, and seemed not to see her at all until Mr Darcy was nearly nose to forehead with her.
“Miss Bennet!” he exclaimed, stumbling back a little in surprise while all the colour seeped from his face.
Colonel Fitzwilliam had better control over his composure and his dark mood vanished before her in order to give her a proper greeting and bow.
Elizabeth assured them she was just making her exit, but the colonel bid her stay a few moments longer. She could hardly stand in the presence of Mr Darcy, remembering how utterly foolish she had been in dismissing his cautions against Mr Wickham and the jealousy she had accused him of during their last interview. In light of Lydia’s current situation, it took a great deal of will to comport herself well enough to curtsy genteelly, and she could not meet the eyes of the gentleman before her.
She was certain the colonel bid her stay out of mere breeding, though she glanced Mr Darcy’s way as she said, “I have already taken up more of the Bingleys’ time than is entirely proper, and I am certain Mr Darcy cannot wish me to stay.”
He was caught off guard to be regarded so and struggled for words. “No, indeed, I…”
Elizabeth could not conceive of why he had any reason to be so anxious in her presence, for it was she who had spoken with thoughtlessness and pride when they last parted ways. He behaved as if he had something shameful to hide, but it was entirely possible that he so thoroughly despised her now that it was difficult for even him to maintain a cool, disinterested visage in her presence.
“If you wish to stay…” he managed by starts, “by all means. I… would be glad if you did.” Glad, he did not appear. His look was more akin to fearful that she might accept the invitation.
Surprised by even so much cordiality in his tone, she replied, “You seem to be preoccupied with some private and pressing business that I would not intrude upon.”
“It is not an intrusion, is it Darcy?” Colonel Fitzwilliam said in all good cheer.
“No,” she insisted, less and less comfortable by each passing moment. “I beg you will not detain me any longer. I thank you both for your consideration, but I should return to my aunt and young cousins whom I promised a day of puzzles with. Good day, Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Thinking the matter behind her, she was more than a little shaken when Mr Darcy followed her out before she was three feet beyond the steps.
“Miss Bennet,” He looked about, anxious that no one passing on the street might overhear him. “How is your family?”
Utterly bewildered, she replied, “I… they are well, I believe. Jane is a little recovered these past weeks, and Kitty, my sister at home is very well.”
“And your other sisters? Are they also… well?”
“I…” She could not imagine what he meant by such a question. She did not think he cared to know how Mary got on with his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, and unless the colonel had told him of Wickham’s latest exploits, he could not know to ask after Lydia.
The thought that perhaps he did mean to enquire after her youngest sister in as delicate a manner as possible rendered her incapable of speech. She could not tolerate the idea that Colonel Fitzwilliam would so blatantly betray her confidence, and yet if Mr Darcy knew of the scandalous elopement and still he came to enquire after her family…
“Forgive me,” he hastened to say before the silence became too dreadful. “I ask meaningless questions when what I mean to say regards only you and me.”
Something in his voice caused her to raise her head in question. “Mr Darcy?”
“When last we met, there were words hastily spoken which I feel great shame to recall. The letter that you graciously read did not relate the entirety of my regret, and I do hope…”
Certain he referred to the special regard he confessed to once feeling for her, Elizabeth wished to hear no more of his regrets. The declaration that he no longer cared for her, that he had thoroughly conquered any previous affection with his reason and will, and perhaps even the knowledge of what Lydia had done was too painful for her to bear hearing spoken. He could not know how bitterly she regretted her own words either, for in confessing so much she might also let slip the r
easons why, including her sister’s part in it. Whether he was privy to such knowledge or no, the street in front of the Bingley’s townhouse was hardly the place to discuss it. She said nothing of such matters but silenced him with all expedience.
“Please, Mr Darcy, I pray you will speak of it no more. I too said things in my haste and am thoroughly ashamed of how I slandered you then.”
He nodded in silence, letting her words sink in. “Then, perchance, you would…” He shook his head, evidently deciding against his original designs. “You expressed a wish to return to your aunt. I will delay you no longer. Forgive me, Miss Bennet. Good day.”
Chapter Seventeen
The Gardiners’ breakfast had just been cleared when a rap at the door indicated a caller. Elizabeth recognised Colonel Fitzwilliam as the figure standing several paces behind the woman he had escorted there, but the well-endowed hat upon her who waited at the top of the steps obscured the lady’s face from view.
The impossibility of Lydia Bennet waltzing through the door and entering her aunt’s foyer as if she owned all of Europe was keenly felt by Elizabeth. Nevertheless, Lydia was there, and throwing her arms about her sister with great aplomb. Elizabeth realised as the colonel nodded once to her and took his leave in silence that he had been standing watch in case Lydia decided to turn tail at the last. Now that she was safely inside her uncle’s house, he considered his presence no longer necessary, but necessarily burdensome to a family who would wish to reunite with their recovered daughter and sister in private.
Lydia bore the appearance of a sullen child who had just had a scolding and made every attempt to hide it, but besides the petulant expression, she behaved as if nothing were truly amiss. Ignoring all attempts by Lizzy to question her as to how she came to be there, she ushered them into the breakfast room, asking if there was anything left to eat, or had her young cousins gobbled up all the best pies and jams?
Their Aunt Gardiner was exceedingly surprised to see Lydia arrive in such an extravagant and shameless manner but did her utmost to behave with all the comportment and grace that so completely eluded her young niece. She instructed a servant to fetch Mr Gardiner and Mr Bennet, told the young man where they had gone searching that morning, and had another servant prepare some refreshments for Lydia, knowing they would have nothing from her but deflections and nonsense until she had something to tempt her palate on a plate.
“Gibbes, do fetch Miss Lydia a slice of sponge, and some of the poultry pie if there is any left over.” Smoothly turning back to her niece, she queried, “Or might I have the pleasure of addressing you as Mrs Wickham now, Lydia?”
“Oh, no, Aunt!” Lydia giggled, “No matronly title as of yet. Of course, Wickham and I expected to be married by now, but funds have been so frightfully hard to come by, and of course my dashing officer and I could not be married in the rags we ran away in.”
“Officer?” Lizzy echoed. “Can he still expect a place in the army, now that he has deserted?”
“My Wickham,” Lydia said fiercely, “has a new commission now. After we are wed, we shall away to Newcastle, where he has orders with the regulars.” She turned her nose up rather high as she said this, disregarding the query as to his standing with Colonel Forster’s regiment.
“But is Mary not here?” she gave a cursory glance about the breakfast room. “I rather looked forward to hearing her droll remarks on the fact that I am to be married next after Jane. I suppose you’ll be my only bridesmaid then, Lizzy, although Kitty will be frightfully jealous. And I don’t see why we can’t be married from Longbourn. All this talk of special licenses and being married in town,” she sniffed, which Lizzy supposed was something of an improvement from her usual snorts of derision. “There’s hardly time to make up a dress for the occasion! I shall have to borrow one of yours, Lizzy, for I’m sure you have plenty of new things since being always at Rosings Park means Jane would have outfitted you properly.”
“Lydia, you cannot imagine that it would be possible to return to Longbourn still unmarried,” Lizzy said gravely.
“I don’t see why ever not!” she dismissed the implication with a toss of her head. “If Mama were here…”
“If Mama were here I should hope she would have the heart to tell you how exceedingly wretched your course has been, and how your conduct has shamed not only yourself, but your entire family in ways that may be irreparable,” Lizzy answered, her indignation rising at Lydia’s scoffs. “You may think your intended elopement to be nothing but a romantic gesture against convention, but you have caused your family both pain and turmoil over this dreadfully foolish act, and selfishly unheeded the destruction of your reputation along with your sisters’ likelihood to make respectable matches hereafter. Your uncle and father have gone to great lengths and expense to locate you, and you have cast a bitter pall over your entire family by this wild misconduct.”
Lydia’s lip trembled violently, her flushed face on the brink of either outrage or tears, she looked to her aunt for comfort against Lizzy’s impassioned lecture, but no such comfort was to be gained there.
“Lizzy is right, my dear,” she said gently whilst pouring Lydia a second cup of tea. “Although perhaps delivered more harshly than necessary,” she said to Lizzy. “Nevertheless, this entire business has caused your parents much grief, and your mother was bedridden for days upon hearing of your elopement. I’m certain she would not have wanted this for any of her daughters and would have told you as much if she were able.”
“I’m sure she would say no such thing!” was Lydia’s vehement response. “I’m sure she would tell me how glad she is that I have found myself a husband, and that she is proud of me, and she would do everything to help me with my gown,” she rose from her seat to say the last, “and see to it that no one treated me in this horrid fashion!”
“Lydia!”
The unfamiliar sound of Mr Bennet’s raised voice indicated that he had arrived, and he looked as if he could not decide whether to send his youngest daughter to bed without supper or strike her on the mouth for her reckless speech. Rather than make a further exhibition of his family in the breakfast room, he merely flashed his eyes angrily, and Lydia had sense enough not to speak another word in his presence.
Mr Gardiner put a hand on Lydia’s shoulder and said softly, “We are glad you are safely recovered, my dear.”
Though Lydia looked neither recovered, nor safe in that moment, her uncle’s pronouncement did bring forth the hot tears she had kept back thus far, and with amazing restraint she did not utter a sob nor a sniffle as they trailed freely down her reddened cheeks.
Mrs Gardiner broke the anxious lapse of silence by asking Lizzy to call the servant for two more settings for tea. Mr Bennet requested the use of Mr Gardiner’s study for privacy, and when he had collected his tea, he ordered Lydia to accompany him there.
When they emerged, hours later, Lydia’s tears had all dried, but they were replaced with a sulky expression, and a desire not to make conversation or be in company with another living soul. This was nearly impossible in a house with four children, their aunt and uncle, and two of Lydia’s immediate family staying as guests, despite the Gardiners having one of the largest houses that could be acquired in Cheapside. Their uncle’s trade afforded him an excellent income, but it was not possible to have accommodations too extravagant in dimensions on a street so full of shops and vendors. To decrease her chances of being bothered by anyone of the household, Lydia went straight to the room she was to share with Elizabeth.
When Elizabeth retired, she sought to smooth things over between them. She would not apologise for speaking truthfully, but if Lydia could be consoled into a better frame of mind, perhaps she would divulge some of what she and their father had discussed in private, as Mr Bennet would not relate any of their discussion but remained in private communication with their uncle the rest of the day. Elizabeth hoped most of all to discover how Lydia had come to be escorted to her aunt’s house. Evidently, it was by the per
suasion of Colonel Fitzwilliam, but by what means he had discovered her and Wickham’s whereabouts, and more significantly, how he convinced Wickham to marry Lydia was what she especially wished to know.
Her prepared coaxing was all in vain, however, for no sooner had she stolen into the room than Lydia announced she needn’t say a single word to her, for there was nothing she could say that would ever make her forgive Lizzy’s rudeness to her that morning.
“I suppose you were not interested in borrowing my newest gown for your wedding then, after all,” Lizzy said with a forced sigh.
“You haven’t a single thing in my colour, anyway,” Lydia shrugged petulantly. “I’ve had scores of time to myself up here, so of course I looked at every gown in the closet. T’would be better if Papa let me buy my own, but there isn’t time with all this abominable rush.”
“Mm. I shall have to go directly and tell Aunt Gardiner to never mind about trimming the blue silk that’s hanging in her own room, then. She will be disappointed not to have the pleasure of fitting it to you on the morrow, but as you appear resolute…”
Lizzy went towards the door and was not surprised to hear Lydia’s voice call immediately after her, “You needn’t pretend to be so dense, Lizzy. Of course, I want your blue silk if it’s really newer than your pink muslin. But I will make no hasty decisions until I see it for myself.”
Lizzy bit her tongue against saying how desperately she wished Lydia would weigh all of her decisions as heavily as she did the chusing of a new gown, knowing she would never hear what she wished to if she provoked her now. “Lydia…” she began carefully, “How was it that the colonel came to bring you here?”
Purposefully misunderstanding her question, Lydia said, “I’m not fond of sharing a room with you either, Lizzy, but might as well bear it for a night or two. It was not my decision to intrude on your visit.”
“I have no great objection to sharing a room with you, and that is not why I asked. I merely wish to know what Colonel Fitzwilliam’s part was in your return.”