by Jann Rowland
Lydia continued to be as loud and vehement as she was previously, but whenever she began to become too loud for Mr. Bennet’s sensibilities, he banished her to her room, to keep her whining from their ears of the rest of the party. Eventually this resulted in Lydia ceasing her constant complaints. She took, instead, to sitting in injured silence, glaring at all and sundry as if some great wrong had been done to her. The others were eager for her to remain in this state, as it was much easier on their ears.
That was not the end of the matter, however, as though the Bennets and their guests could ignore Lydia for the most part, there were still times when her temper got the best of her, and she made comments when she would have been better to remain silent. One such instance occurred only a few days before they were scheduled to return to Hertfordshire. And though she raised the ire of one of the party, it was not a person any of them would have expected.
They had been discussing their doings in the previous days when the colonel brought news of the man who had caused such discontent in the first place.
“The military tribunal has found that Wickham intended to decamp,” said he, “but as he was ultimately prevented from doing so, his punishment has been far less than it would have been if he had actually managed to flee.”
Mr. Bennet listened with interest, as did Elizabeth, though a part of her would prefer to simply forget that Mr. Wickham even existed. As for Lydia, she sat and sulked, for the moment seemingly remembering that her previous protests concerning the goodness of Mr. Wickham and his intention to marry her had gained her nothing. Mr. Bennet was insistent that Lydia be present to hear the news whenever something was said about Mr. Wickham’s fate, perhaps thinking it would be a lesson to her.
“He has been discharged with dishonor,” said Fitzwilliam, “though he did not receive a flogging, as might have been expected. The tribunal seemed to think that handing him over to the magistrate and being sent to Marshalsea for the rest of his natural life would be punishment enough.”
“It is likely for the best,” said Mr. Bennet. “If he had been flogged and then sent to prison, there is a good chance he might not have survived.
Lydia gasped with horror, but no one took any notice of her.
“What of the merchants?” asked Elizabeth. “Will they not suffer because Mr. Wickham will never be able to repay them?”
Mr. Darcy shrugged, and he glanced at the colonel, who exuded a sense of righteous satisfaction. “Merchants should know the risks of extending credit to unknown officers. I would imagine they have learned a valuable lesson.”
“I wonder that they have to learn it at all,” commented Mr. Bennet. “Brighton has long been an encampment for the army. Surely the shopkeepers have seen the likes of Mr. Wickham before.”
“I must own to a little confusion myself, Mr. Bennet,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I, myself, have commanded many men, and though the majority are good and honest, there are always a few who are simply bad apples. I keep a close enough ear to the shopkeepers to know if there is a man who is abusing the privilege of credit, but a commander cannot prevent everything.”
“Then why did you speak so harshly of Colonel Forster?” demanded Lydia.
The colonel turned and fixed a long look on her, and Lydia attempted to show that the man’s scrutiny was not affecting her. Elizabeth, for her part, had almost forgotten Lydia was even present; Elizabeth often attempted to forget the girl when she was there, for she might say something to provoke an argument if she did not.
“Because Colonel Forster did not watch him, even after he was warned of Wickham’s past behavior.”
“You did not give him proof,” said Lydia, her resentment clear in her tone. “I do not believe a word of what you have said about Mr. Wickham, and neither did Colonel Forster.”
“Your beliefs are of no concern to me, Miss Lydia,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam coolly. “As for Forster, even if he had no proof of our allegations, prudence demanded that he watch the man anyway, as he should have been doing all along. A good colonel in command of a regiment keeps track of his officers to ensure all are upholding the conduct demanded of those wearing the scarlet.”
“So, he should spy on Mr. Wickham and all his officers?” asked Lydia, clearly believing that she had made a point.
“No, but he should be alert,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. Rather than take offense at Lydia’s tone, he seemed to be amused at her continued recalcitrance. “And it is a simple matter to have a word with the shopkeepers and ask to be kept informed as to the amounts the men have on their tabs. That is what a good commander should do.”
“I hate you,” growled Lydia, resentment staining her tone. “You have all contrived to have Wickham painted as the blackest of all villains for nothing more than jealousy.”
“Jealousy?” asked Colonel Fitzwilliam, laughing at her stupidity. “What have we to be jealous of?”
“Nothing,” interjected Anne, glaring at Lydia. “There is nothing for which to feel envy, as Wickham has nothing to make his situation desirable.”
Lydia only sniffed. “He loves me. I know he does.”
“Miss Lydia, if you will pardon my saying so, you are a child with no claim to sense of any kind!”
“How dare you!” cried Lydia. “You know nothing, being such a colorless mouse yourself.”
“Silence!” exclaimed Anne. “You will be silent and listen.”
Elizabeth was surprised that Anne would speak in such a manner in front of them all. But she glared at Lydia with disdain, and no one who saw her could believe anything other than that she had been pushed beyond all endurance. A quick glance about her revealed that her sisters were shocked, Mr. Darcy censorious, and Mrs. Bennet astonished. But Colonel Fitzwilliam displayed a fierce sense of pride, while Mr. Bennet just watched with a sort of sardonic amusement.
“You truly do not have any notion of what your foolishness might have cost you, do you Miss Lydia?” demanded Anne. “I shall tell you. Had you eloped with Mr. Wickham, you either would have been abandoned in London, penniless, alone, and possibly with child, or he would have held you in unspeakable conditions until Darcy agreed to pay him to marry you. And this he would have done for no other reason than for revenge against Darcy. Are you so seriously deficient as to wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up?”
Lydia’s mouth worked, but no sound issued, so shocked was she.
“I cannot fathom why you continue to pine after a libertine who meant to ruin you. Do you not understand that in a few short months you will be connected to the Darcy and Fitzwilliam families? I certainly do not have my mother’s level of pride in her heritage, but it can truthfully be said that these are some of the most prestigious families in the kingdom. Think of the marriage you could make with our patronage! Why do you continue to speak for Wickham? He is not worth your devotion.”
“I want something more in my marriage than simply money and status,” said Lydia, stiff with affront.
“So do we all,” replied Anne. Her anger seemed to be spent. “But to wish to be married to a penniless soldier who does not love you when you could have so much more is completely beyond my comprehension.”
“Mr. Wickham loves me and I love him. That is all that matters.”
“You may think that,” said Mr. Bennet. “If it brings you comfort, you may believe it until your dying day. But it does not matter. Wickham is gone from our lives forever, and I dare say you shall not ever see him again. And as you are not out and will not be part of society for the foreseeable future, you may cling to that all you like. But until you have proven to me that you can behave properly in society, you will not be joining it again.”
“But Papa—” exclaimed Lydia, only to be cut off.
“I do not wish to hear any more of it.” Mr. Bennet made a shooing motion with one hand. “You may go to your room and begin to think on how you might improve your behavior. From this point forward, if you cannot treat our guests as you ought, you will remain in
your rooms when we have visitors. When you are not a child any longer, you may come out of the nursery.”
Lydia fled, though not before throwing a poisonous look at them all. With her departure, the tension seemed to drain from the rest of the room.
“I apologize, Mr. Bennet,” said Anne. “I should not have allowed her to anger me.”
“Perhaps,” said Mr. Bennet, “but I dare say she deserved it. She will hear nothing we say. Everything is about how she has been wronged and how Wickham has been falsely accused.”
“Would it help if I sent for the receipts I hold in Wickham’s name?” asked Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Bennet only shook his head. “I cannot imagine it would. She is determined to believe what she wishes to believe. Once the immediacy of what has happened is past and the initial anger is spent, I am hopeful she can be reached. But until then, I do not expect any improvement.”
“Mr. Darcy,” said Kitty, her voice hesitant and almost fearful, “is it all true what you have said of Mr. Wickham? Would he truly have acted as Miss de Bourgh has said?”
Only the tone of Kitty’s voice stopped Elizabeth from censuring her sister for questioning these accounts; Kitty only wished for reassurance, as it seemed like this episode had affected her badly.
“It is, Miss Kitty,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the girl with compassion. “Mr. Wickham has never cared about who he hurts, as long as he obtains whatever he wishes. I do not doubt he set his sights on your sister to cause as much trouble as he possibly could for me. And even if we had found them and forced them to be married, Mr. Wickham does not have a means of supporting himself, and he has no interest in finding a profession if it means he must exert himself. Would you wish for your sister to be forever poor, with a man who could not even be counted on to be faithful?”
“But I would not have thought he would abandon her . . .” said Kitty. She seemed about ready to burst into tears.
“It depends what his purpose was,” said Mr. Bennet. He gazed at Kitty drawing her attention, to him, and though he was firm and unyielding, Elizabeth did not think he meant to be cruel. “If he had thought to make his fortune through your sister’s connection to Elizabeth, then he would have ensured she was known to be compromised, so that there was no other recourse but for them to marry. But I do not believe that was his purpose.”
Mr. Bennet turned to Mr. Darcy, a questioning look on his brow. For his part, Mr. Darcy sighed.
“The only way to know is to apply to Wickham himself.”
“If you could be certain he would tell the truth,” added Colonel Fitzwilliam, his tone sour.
A shrug indicated Mr. Darcy’s agreement. “But no, I do not believe that he intended to force a marriage with your sister. I think he meant to embarrass me as much as possible as a form of revenge. Wickham knows that he would not be able to extort more than about ten thousand pounds from me, and since he allowed four thousand pounds to slip through his fingers in less than two years, he knows it would not be enough to fund his habits. I am certain he still expects to marry a woman of great fortune and never be forced to support himself.”
“I agree,” said Mr. Bennet, his attention never leaving Kitty. For her part, the girl was looking at him as if he was some sort of monster, come alive from her dreams to torment her. “You must understand this, Kitty. I apologize in speaking in this fashion,” continued he, nodding at Georgiana, who was watching the scene, her own trepidation evident, “but this is essential. The London streets are no place for a young gentlewoman, and with no money, Lydia would have been lucky to escape with her life. And that is if Wickham did not sell her to a brothel.”
Kitty gasped, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. Mary, who was sitting by her sister’s side, wrapped an arm around Kitty’s shoulder and drew her in close. “There, there, Kitty. It has been averted in Lydia’s case, and now that you are wiser, I doubt you will make such a mistake.”
A fervent nod was Kitty’s only response. Fear was an effective tool, Elizabeth decided, though its application would need to be judicious. Perhaps that had always been Lydia’s trouble—the girl was as fearless as anyone Elizabeth had ever known. Of course, Elizabeth would never wish to break Lydia’s spirit, to render her fearful and timid, but a little knowledge about the world’s dangers would only be prudent.
“I apologize for speaking in such a way in front of your sister, Mr. Darcy,” said her father. “I am aware of my own failings as a father and I know I should have done more to teach my youngest. But if such things were explained in blunter terms to young ladies, perhaps there would be fewer who would throw themselves into the power of libertines such as Wickham.”
“Perhaps it would be best not to be too blunt, Papa,” said Elizabeth.
Mr. Bennet regarded her with affection. “You do not think it was effective in regards to your sister?”
Laughing, Elizabeth was forced to own that it did appear to have made his point quite effectively.
“Your point is well taken, Mr. Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy. He looked at Kitty, whose tears had ceased, though her head still rested on Mary’s shoulder. “I hope you have learned the lesson well, Miss Kitty?”
“I have,” replied she.
“Good. For if you have, then there exists the possibility of your coming out with Georgiana. It will still be two years for her, but if you can wait that long, I believe we can provide parties and balls aplenty.”
Kitty’s eyes lit up, as Elizabeth knew they would, and she sat up, looking at Georgiana with anticipation. But before she became too excited, she looked to her father, a little shyly. “If that is agreeable to you, Papa.”
“I believe it is a suitable reward for good behavior, Kitty. Perhaps we could offer it to your sister as well. With such delights as parties, balls, and other such frivolity, perhaps she could be induced to forget Mr. Wickham.”
“Perhaps she might, Papa,” said Kitty.
And then Kitty turned to Georgiana, and began to discuss the coming delights with much animation. For her part, Georgiana was a much more sedate girl, and Elizabeth thought that she was less excited about the possibilities than Kitty. But soon she, too, had caught Kitty’s enthusiasm, and the girls chatted away for some time. Elizabeth did not know if such temptations would be enough to reach Lydia, but the girl could not grow many degrees worse.
The rest of the party settled into desultory conversation, and though it was not characterized by the animation existing between Kitty and Georgiana, it was easy, carried on between those who had become accustomed to being in company with each other, and had developed a bond of common affection. Elizabeth sat close by Mr. Darcy, and they spoke in low voices, and though nothing of substance was said, Elizabeth was happy to be in the man’s company, and she thought that he was happy to be in hers.
At length, Elizabeth’s attention was caught by her father speaking with her mother. She was aware of his aversion for traveling, but on this occasion, she heard him say something she never thought to hear from him.
“Yes, Mrs. Bennet, I suppose you are correct. Though trouble befell us during our sojourn in Brighton, I suppose it was, on the whole, a positive experience.”
“Then we should come again next summer,” replied Mrs. Bennet. “In fact, we should make it a family tradition that we spend the summer in Brighton. I am sure even Lydia would come to our way of thinking.”
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Mr. Darcy and they both began to laugh softly at her mother’s attempt. This, of course, drew Mrs. Bennet’s attention.
“You do not need to laugh in such a manner, Miss Lizzy. You have also benefited from our time in Brighton, have you not? You have come out of the experience engaged to a fine man, after all.”
As Mrs. Bennet simpered at Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth turned an expressive glance on him, and he nodded. Yes, it was true she was now an engaged woman, but given Mr. Darcy’s determination and character, she was certain the man would have prevailed in Hertfordshire had they not come to Brighton.
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br /> “Be that as it may,” said Mr. Bennet, “our position still has not changed that much for us to enjoy holidays such as this every year. This summer has taxed our resources in such a manner that it will take some time to recoup our losses.” Mr. Bennet smiled fondly at his eldest daughters. “With Jane and Lizzy marrying it will help reduce our costs, but we must still consider trousseaux and the like. I am afraid we must learn to economize a little, Mrs. Bennet.”
It seemed it was an argument that even Mrs. Bennet could not refute, though she appeared more than a little disappointed.
“I might be able to assist there,” said Mr. Darcy, an uncharacteristic diffidence in his voice. He turned and smiled at Elizabeth. “You had mentioned to me that your aunt and uncle’s journey to the north was postponed because of his business concerns.”
When Elizabeth allowed it to be so, Mr. Darcy continued, saying: “My family owns a lodge in the Lake District. If they are in a position to travel next year, I would be happy to invite them to stay with us and make it a holiday. You are all invited, of course.” Mr. Darcy waved his hand around the room to encompass them all. “That way you will still be able to journey and enjoy a holiday, Mrs. Bennet, but you can also do it at little expense.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, clearly delighted with the suggestion. “I believe we would be happy to accept your invitation. How good of you to suggest it.” She turned to Mr. Bennet, who was regarding Mr. Darcy with dismay. “It is the perfect solution, is it not, Mr. Bennet?”
“You are making it quite difficult for me to claim you as my favorite son-in-law, Darcy,” groused Mr. Bennet, but even Elizabeth could see that his displeasure was feigned at least to a certain degree.