by Don Miller
“Famous?” questioned Darcy. “I was not aware we had any fame at all.”
“Oh, come now, Mr. Darcy. I am an avid reader of newspapers, particularly those from London. You were often mentioned as the elusive bachelor who seemed to have no interest in the ladies of the ton, and then suddenly along came Miss Elizabeth Dumont, formerly known as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and within a few weeks, you are married. The story is the stuff of fairy tales. I am glad you are staying the night, because I need to know the whole story.”
Elizabeth laughed. “This is not the kind of news my husband likes to hear. He would just as soon disappear into the woodwork and hope nobody notices us. However, I assure you, I will be glad to talk to you about our romance in repayment for the gracious invitation to stay with you tonight. And I do agree it is the stuff of fairy tales. I still have to pinch myself every now and then to assure myself it has truly happened to me.”
The three enjoyed a pleasant lunch with Mrs. McMillan, who, since she had already eaten, carried most of the conversation, plying Darcy and Elizabeth for information about their courtship and Elizabeth’s discovery by her grandparents.
About three o’clock Dr. McMillan entered the dining room and told them Wickham was ready to receive them. “Oh, Phillip, you came at a very bad time,” said Mrs. McMillan. “We were just getting to the final proposal and their marriage. And I have not even asked them about the young lady with whom Daniel seems to be so taken.”
“It will give you something to anticipate tonight, then,” answered Dr. McMillan. “I believe Mr. Wickham is greatly anticipating their visit.”
As they were walking across the compound to the hospital, Dr. McMillan said, “The swelling in his leg has greatly reduced in the last 24 hours and I believe we can put him in a wheel chair now and in couple of days he will be able to try out crutches. Eventually we will fit him for a wooden leg with a wooden foot form attached to the bottom on which he can put a shoe. He will always walk with a limp, but I believe he will eventually look like he has no wooden leg when he is standing still.”
When they entered Wickham’s room, he was partially sitting up, looking as if he was anticipating them. He nodded at them. “Good afternoon Darcy, Col. Fitzwilliam, and Miss…no, Mrs. Darcy. I would say I am glad to see you, and I suspect you would believe it to be an untruth. However, I can tell you I actually am happy to be awake and alive and see someone whom I know. I understand you were instrumental in saving my life, so I will express my gratitude, although a couple of days ago I was cursing you for doing it.”
“You look much better than when I brought you here,” replied Col. Fitzwilliam.
“I am sure I do. But let’s get to the real question. Why are you all here? I thought you would be glad to be rid of me. I expected to never see any of you again.”
“Two questions,” said Elizabeth. “First, why take Lydia, and second, did you marry her as you told Dr. Morgan and his son?”
“In one word answers: money and no. I knew you had become extremely wealthy and would probably be willing to part with it a little to save Lydia from total disgrace. However, I felt you might not be willing to pay much if I violated her, so I neither married her nor had any sexual relations with her.”
“Why did you come this way,” asked Darcy.
“I thought it most likely everyone would be looking for us to go north to Scotland. I have a friend from Cambridge I have not seen in years who has a small estate on the west coast of Somerset, and we corresponded occasionally. He was always asking me to visit, so I thought I would take the chance he was there and would welcome me. I told Lydia we could be married when we arrived there and she naively agreed. My intention was to send a note to you in Devonshire telling you I had her and would not take advantage of her if you would give me £10,000. Then I intended to send her to you unharmed and head for America. I knew I would be considered a deserter and hung if caught, so I thought I had no choice but go abroad.”
“So why are you so seemingly unconcerned now?” asked Col. Fitzwilliam. “You can still be tried for desertion, or more certainly, for lying to a superior officer.”
“I was only two days into my ten day leave when the accident happened and I can certainly claim I intended to return in that time, but circumstances intervened. I think I can make a case the most I should be tried for is lying to my superior and I do not think that is an offense which would justify a hanging. I think with my bad leg, they will just cashier me out of the militia and send me on my way.”
“So what are your plans if you are dismissed? What will you do?” asked Darcy.
“I have not figured that out yet. I will guarantee you, whatever I do; it will not involve you or your family. I have finally discovered the hard way that attempting to get money out of you by surreptitious means is dangerous to my health. Also, this last episode has actually made me reexamine my life and understand that compared to most men born into my class, I have had great advantages which I have completely wasted. I have spent a lot of time trying to exact revenge for behavior of you and your father I considered wrong at the time, but which I now see as completely reasonable. I was given much, but I became greedy and wanted more. I can say I do not hate you anymore. And Mrs. Darcy, I apologize for the way I treated you when you were Miss Bennet.”
This confession and honest appraisal of his life dumbfounded the three listeners. It was the last thing they had expected to hear when they came here. They were expecting him to try to inveigle some money out of them in exchange for not spreading rumors about Lydia. That he should voluntarily give up that advantage astounded them.
Wickham, seeing the looks on their faces, laughed. “I can see my admission of all of my faults and misdeeds has been rather unexpected, as I thought it would be. I would ask only this. Darcy, once, long ago, we were friends. Would you consider loaning me enough money to buy passage to America, if I do get out of this alive and free? I know you probably will not believe me, but I will work to pay it back. It may take years, but I will pay it back, just because I could not stand being indebted to you, although I already am to some extent.”
“Actually Mr. Wickham,” interjected Elizabeth, “it was I who suggested we come here today to bribe you to stay away from us and go to America. You were correct, I do want to save Lydia’s reputation and I want you to stop being a threat to my new family. And you are also correct that I am astounded by your apparent conversion to the good side. I only hope it is true. But, even if these two gentlemen disagree, I am willing to give you the bribe I had proposed if you are set free. I will see you get a cabin on one of the ships of the Dumont Line going to America and I will give you £500 to start a new life.”
This time it was Wickham who was astounded. “Why would you do this after the way I treated you and your sister and Darcy and Georgiana?”
“Because,” said Darcy, “she is something you have never met: a truly good hearted woman who bears no grudges and seeks no revenge. She wants to help people, and for some reason, which I must admit is unfathomable to me, she has apparently determined you are worthy of salvation. I think you know neither Richard nor I would have made such an offer. We might have agreed to loan you the money to purchase a cheap steerage ticket to America, but that would about cover it. Our dislike of you over the last five years has grown so ingrained it will be hard for either of us to let go of it.”
Then putting his arm around Elizabeth, he continued, “I am learning from Elizabeth every day, and today she is teaching me about forgiveness and mercy.” He squeezed Elizabeth to him. “I do not think I can ever forget what you have done, Wickham, but for my wife I will try to forgive you and show you mercy. I remember what Shakespeare wrote in the Merchant of Venice, ‘The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed. It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.’ So even though I find your epiphany hard to believe, I will try to forgive and forget. But I warn you, I will be ruthless if you f
orget your promise.”
In a rather quiet voice, Wickham replied to Darcy. “I can believe you would be. So I assure you, I will keep my promise and I thank you for your kindness, which I realize I do not deserve. I accept Mrs. Darcy’s offer, and you have my word I will never be a thorn in your side again. I hope someday in the future we can meet again and I can repay the £500, even though you say you are giving it to me. I would ask you take some of that money and pay off my debts in Meryton and to the officers of my militia battalion. I believe I owe somewhere in the neighborhood of £125. And tell them I apologize for running out on them.”
Finally Col. Fitzwilliam spoke up. “I am not yet married to a woman who has taught me mercy and I find it hard to believe you have really changed. So I am going to be the one who monitors your life from this point on until you are on a ship for America or on your way to Australia in a prison ship. However, in memory of our friendship as children, I will speak up for you in your trial to try to ensure you are not treated as a deserter. I will not offer my opinion, but I must admit I would much rather see you sentenced to be sent to Australia. America, as far as it is, is too close.”
“I assumed you would not be as lenient, Richard. And if Australia is what I must face, then I will face it.” Turning to Elizabeth again, he said, “Would you still be willing to pay off my debts if that is my fate?”
“I will pay the merchants of Meryton. The merchants there are in need of every shilling they can get. But I assume your debts to your fellow officers are gambling debts, and those I will not pay. However, if some of that debt is legitimate loans, I will pay it. I will leave it to Richard to make those decisions.”
There was silence for a few minutes, each thinking about what else needed to be said. Finally, Wickham said, “I thank you for coming. You have given me more hope than I had before and at least some hope I might have a life worth living. My life to this point has been pretty miserable, and I realize it has been mostly my doing. I would like to find out what it feels like to be honest and respected. And I do hope Miss Lydia recovers. She was a very silly girl and I hope she comes out of this having learned to emulate women like her older sisters and to stay away from men like me.”
With that the Darcys and Col. Fitzwilliam left Wickham and headed to the house. As they were walking across the compound, Col. Fitzwilliam said, “Do you two really believe Wickham has reformed? I am sorry, but I cannot accept it. He is a very intelligent man and I think he has just realized he can get more money out of you by being friendly than by being an enemy. Believe me, I will be watching him closely once he comes to me for the money and his passage to America, if he is lucky enough to get off that easy.”
“I do not believe him either,” said Darcy, “but as long as he gets on that ship for America, I am not going to worry about it.” Turning to Elizabeth, he asked, “How about you, Elizabeth? Do you think he is sincere?”
“I am ambivalent. I want to believe him, but must admit I find it difficult. I do believe an experience like losing part of a leg could cause a major change in a person’s outlook on life, but it does seem a little too good to be true that he could change so much. I am willing to believe he has realized it is better to not have us as enemies and that he will not be a thorn in our side anymore. However, I am not sure he can totally give up his profligate ways and like you, William, once he gets on that ship to America, I am not going to worry about him anymore.”
That evening they had an excellent dinner with congenial hosts and were subjected to never ending questions by Mrs. McMillan. On the subject of Lydia, she asked, “Mrs. Darcy, this young lady Lydia who was your sister. Do you really think she is deserving of Daniel? I love him like a son and would hate to see him unhappy in his choice of wife.”
Elizabeth reflected on Lydia’s life and the changes she had seen in her as a result of this accident. “I am not sure how to answer that question, Mrs. McMillan. How does one as close as I am to Lydia determine her deservedness? Had I not sat and talked with her the last several days and seen the changes in her, I would have said, even if she was my sister, Mr. Morgan is too good for her. But she is a changed woman, and I emphasize ‘woman.’ She is no longer the young girl I knew. I do not know what will happen if her memory returns, but the young woman I have been learning to know seems very deserving to me: a somewhat unformed clay figure that a good man like Mr. Morgan can help shape into a beautiful piece of God’s pottery. She is physically very pretty, she has a quick mind, and she very much wants to be a good woman, and perhaps most important of all, I think she truly loves Mr. Morgan. “
Mrs. McMillan found her level of respect for Elizabeth continually rising as she conversed with her during lunch and dinner and appreciated her candor in evaluating her sister. She found herself trusting Elizabeth’s judgment and became more convinced her intuition had been correct; Daniel had finally found the one. Nevertheless, from earlier conversations she believed Mr. Darcy was not as convinced. “How about you, Mr. Darcy; are you as convinced of her suitability?”
“I was not, but my wife and my cousin are starting to sway my judgment in the other direction. I have not had much interaction with her since we have been here; therefore I am afraid my judgment has been much affected by my previous observations of her. If she has, in fact, undergone a significant change in personality, then I believe it would be most prudent of me to accept my wife’s appraisal, which…” he briefly paused and looked at Elizabeth, “except for one glaring exception, I have found to be very good.”
“Now, of course, when you put in a caveat like that, one knows one is expected to ask, what was the glaring exception?”
Continuing to look at Elizabeth, Darcy grinned broadly and replied, “There was a time when she thought she and I were totally unsuited to one another.”
That brought a smile to everyone’s face, particularly when they saw the blush it put on Elizabeth’s face. “And one assumes,” said Dr. McMillan, “she no longer holds that opinion. It seems to me I have rarely seen a more compatible couple.”
“We are, indeed, a most compatible couple,” said Elizabeth. “But in my defense, I should point out he also had doubts about my suitability to be the wife of a man of his elevated position. In fact, in his first proposal to me, he told me as much.” This time it was Darcy who became red in the face.
“First proposal! He had to propose more than once?” asked Mrs. McMillan.
“It is a long story,” replied Elizabeth, “but suffice it to say his attitude, and mine, had to undergo some major changes before we were able to see past the obstacles placed in front of us by society and realize our lives would be miserable without each other. And for some reason I have that same feeling about Mr. Morgan and Lydia. I have always been a very rational person, but I have no rational explanation for this feeling. I have just come to believe some things were meant to be, and the unusual sequence of events which brought these two together makes me think this is one of those things meant to be.”
“Let us hope that you are right,” said Mrs. McMillan, “because I have the feeling that no matter what we may think about the right or wrong of it, they are going to become a couple. We will have to do what we can to help them over any rough spots they may encounter.”
Later that night, as Elizabeth lay with her head on Darcy’s chest, she asked him, “William, are you unhappy I said I would still give Wickham £500 when he recovered?”
He was silent for a long while and she was not sure what to make of his silence. Just as she was about to lift herself on her elbow and ask him again, he finally replied. “Sorry. I was just thinking of what it was like when we were boys and good friends, doing many things together. He is intelligent and was a quick learner; faster than I was in some things. As I look back on his life as I know it, I can see it was my father who was truly the cause of his unhappiness. I think my father did not even think about the expectations he was creating in Wickham with all the privileges he gave him. He did, in many ways, treat him like a
son, and I can see why Wickham thought he had basically been adopted by my father. He demanded so much of his time that Wickham rarely was able to work with his father in his teenage years, when he should have been learning the trade of being a steward to a large estate. I believe Wickham would have been good at it, and when we were young, that was what he expected to be. But then, as he spent more time at the big house, he began to feel a part of the family and, I am sure, was convinced he would get a significant inheritance from my father. Therefore he worked on learning how to be a gentleman and learned what an estate owner did. All his hopes were dashed when father sent him to Cambridge, telling him he should prepare himself to be a clergyman, and he would be given the living in Kympton. It was not what he expected, and he rebelled, turning into the rake he has been. If his father and my father had handled it better, I think he would have found a better place in the world. So I am not unhappy. Losing a leg is sufficient punishment for what he has done to us, and perhaps this experience will make him find the better person within himself. I doubt it, but perhaps. ”
She moved her face up to his and gave him a long kiss. “Thank you for being so understanding, for what you said to Wickham about me this afternoon, and for loving me. It does not seem possible, but each day I am even happier about being your wife.”
Chapter 27: Lady Elizabeth
Two days after the visit of the Darcys and Col. Fitzwilliam to Bridgewater, the Bennet’s said their farewells and left for Longbourn without Lydia. They had become reconciled to the fact she was uncomfortable with them, not knowing how to relate to them, and they could do little for her unless she started to recover some of her memory.
Mr. Bennet had been particularly affected by Lydia’s transformation. He had to admit to himself he approved of the new Lydia, far more than he did of the old Lydia. He was humbled by the fact it had taken an injury that had made her forget her old life to bring out, what he considered, must be her inherent goodness, which had somehow been buried under the upbringing he and his wife had provided her. He knew he had been an indifferent father, but the extent to which his lack of involvement had affected Lydia was very disturbing to him. He wondered what Mary and Kitty would have been like if he and his wife had been better parents. And he knew many of the traits he currently found in Mrs. Bennet could probably be attributed to him. When he had married her, they had been a loving and companionable couple. But after he lost his only son and his wife kept having girls, he pushed her away and gave her no guidance on what was expected of a gentlewoman. She and his last three daughters became just a source of amusement for him. He realized that if Mary and Kitty were to be salvaged, he needed to change his ways and become a real father and husband. He wondered if he could do it. Perhaps knowing that he faced an unpleasant future without Jane and Elizabeth near him would give him the impetus that he needed.