by Heather Moll
“Lydia, we are here to persuade you to quit this disgraceful situation and return to your family.”
She looked up at him in disbelief. “Aye, that is just like your formality and discretion, Mr. Darcy. I need no help of yours!”
“Mr. Wickham has abandoned you with no concern for your welfare. You desperately require the assistance of your friends.” Darcy tried not to let his exasperation show.
“My dear Wickham left to secure the funds necessary for us to marry! Perhaps if you had not treated him so horribly, Mr. Darcy, we might have gone on to Scotland by now. Even so,” she said, twirling a strand of hair, “we should be married some time or other, and it does not much signify to me when.”
“You threaten the reputation of your entire family the longer you remain here! I regret to tell you that Mr. Wickham has no intention of marrying you. An honorable man would not abscond with a lady and deny her family their due respect in being addressed for his permission for them to marry.” Darcy was struck by the feeling of already having had this conversation. It was eerily similar to what he said to Georgiana when he removed her from Ramsgate last summer. Georgiana was much easier to convince.
At the mention of her family, Lydia’s smile slipped. “Did my father join in your search for me?” she asked in a hopeful voice.
How could he tell a young girl about her father’s complete unconcern? His neglect was shameful—nearly criminal. When Darcy replied that Mr. Bennet remained at Longbourn, Lydia’s untamed and unabashed manner returned. She emphatically stated that, since her father took little notice of her actions, it could be of little concern to Darcy.
“You are strange to appear so interested in my affairs! After all, you are not yet married to Lizzy, and neither are you, Mr. Bingley, married to Jane, so if my father is happy to see me with Wickham, then what importance is it to the world? My mother will be pleased to have another daughter soon married. ’Tis what she always wanted for her girls.”
With these words, Lydia had summarized all the dangers associated with having one’s father be perpetually absent and one’s mother incapable of exertion and sense. Despite Wickham’s actions, it was clear to Darcy that Miss Lydia Bennet would have exposed herself eventually. But he was not about to allow an indulged sixteen year-old girl, bent on disregarding propriety, to ruin the Bennet family’s—and by extension, his—honor.
“I would have you understand that Mr. Wickham is not a righteous man, and he had no intention of marrying you.” He did not want to tell her of Wickham’s attempt at revenge on him. He simply wanted Lydia to return to her family before it was too late and without destroying her faith in the goodness of all men. “I regret to cause you pain, but Mr. Wickham frequently accrues debts of honor he cannot repay. I fear that he has used you to fund his escape from Brighton and will not return to marry you.”
“I have no reason to believe you. George said he loved me! I intend to wait here until he returns. It will not be long—a matter of days at the most. I shall see you both in Hertfordshire when I return as Mrs. Wickham!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest with a childlike pout.
“Lydia, I have been remiss in congratulating you on your upcoming nuptials,” Bingley suddenly contributed to the spectacle. Lydia looked at Darcy with a smugly jubilant grin and thanked Bingley heartily.
“Would you not prefer to marry from your father’s house?” Lydia looked surprised and did not answer. “Your mother would be pleased to share your good fortune with the entire neighborhood. Do you not long to have Mrs. Philips, the Lucases, and all your other neighbors congratulate you and to hear yourself called Mrs. Wickham?” He gave her a knowing wink.
“Yes, I suppose I would,” she said with a giggle, her ease and good spirits returning.
“Then why do you not wait at Longbourn for Mr. Wickham? Since he will return to marry you, then he would come for you if you were half a day’s journey away in Hertfordshire.”
“Wickham told me to remain here with Mrs. Younge. It would not do for me to disrespect his wishes.”
Darcy could not suppress an eye roll at the notion of anyone owing respect to that unworthy scoundrel. He was about to suggest so to Lydia, but Bingley caught his eye and shook his head. Darcy conceded, and stepped aside to let Bingley continue, resigning himself to stand by the fireplace mantle and watch the proceedings.
“I admire your desire to obey your intended’s judgment. Perhaps you might stay with your aunt and uncle here in London while you await his return.” Bingley never allowed his smile to waver. “Mr. Wickham could not fault you for passing your last days as a single lady with your own family. Should Mr. Wickham be delayed in returning for you, the Gardiners would be pleased to return you to Longbourn in the middle of the month before their northern tour begins. When Mr. Wickham returns to marry you, a carriage ride to Cheapside or Hertfordshire would be a small price he would be willing to pay for the sake of his lovely girl.”
Lydia looked thoughtful, and Darcy was certain he had never seen that particular expression cross her features. As quickly as it came, it was gone, and petulance took its place.
“It would only be such fun to marry from home if I was the first of my sisters to marry! As it stands now, he”—she gestured her chin towards Darcy—“and Lizzy will marry before I do. I might as well stay here to wait for Wickham and come home already wed.”
Darcy felt his control over the situation was rapidly slipping, but Bingley was ready with an answer.
“That may not be the case,” Bingley said, looking pointedly at Darcy, who kept silent although his jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly. “You are aware how close Jane and Elizabeth are, and perhaps they would prefer to share their wedding day. Your sister and I shall not marry for six weeks, and I am sure that Lizzy and Darcy would be overjoyed to wait until we could be wed in the same ceremony.”
Darcy could not begin to feign pleasure at the idea of having his wedding postponed, but under Bingley’s persistent stare, he managed to nod once in agreement.
“There, do you not see how wonderful this might be for you?” He gave her a jovial smile. “I see no reason why you ought not return to your family and marry Mr. Wickham from your uncle’s or father’s house. You will be the first of your sisters to marry, your parents will have the pleasure of sharing your joy, and you may proudly show yourself to your neighbors as the new Mrs. Wickham.”
Lydia hung on Bingley’s every word. She sent for Mrs. Younge who, under Darcy’s icy stare, promised to deliver her note to Wickham explaining where she had gone. Lydia then loudly demanded Bingley and Darcy’s congratulations on her upcoming marriage. Her ease and good spirits increased, and Bingley bore all her exuberance with a patient grace that Darcy marveled at.
“And you, Mr. Darcy, if you love Lizzy half so well as my dear Wickham loves me, I am sure you will be very happy.” Before Darcy was obliged to give an answer that might undo all Bingley had accomplished, she capered away to oversee the packing of her belongings.
Bingley sank into a chair. “On the whole, that went not so horribly after all.”
Darcy, too single-minded to relax until Lydia was with her family, addressed the issue at hand. “We must deliver her to her uncle. We want to be able to say to anyone who asks that she left Brighton and arrived directly at Gracechurch Street last Friday.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner will be made unhappy at having to receive her, but they will for the sake of their other nieces. Her aunt might help her to see the shame of what she has done.”
“Mrs. Gardiner could speak to Lydia in the most serious manner, representing to her all the wickedness of what she had done, and I doubt Lydia would repent! Only when she realizes that Mr. Wickham will never marry her will she change her manner.”
Bingley agreed and rose to wait in the hall, quietly saying as he left, “Such behavior as hers is highly irregular. She
gave herself over to Mr. Wickham almost as soon as they both met in Brighton. What sort of a woman, even an ignorant girl like Lydia, allows herself to be compromised so easily?”
Darcy had little respect for Lydia, but his feelings drove him to conclude that Bingley was too harsh. She genuinely thought Wickham would take her to Scotland to marry her. She had been scorned by her father, and her mother’s single purpose in this life was to see her married. It would have been easy for an experienced seducer like Wickham to convince Lydia he would marry her, and it made him loathe the man even more. A man who would prey on the innocence and ignorance of a girl for monetary gain was a fiend.
Bingley’s words gave Darcy pause for another reason. Society would condemn both Lydia and Elizabeth if it was known they had anticipated their wedding vows, while neither he nor Wickham would be thought any less for it. Bingley might say there was no difference between the sisters if he knew the truth, but Darcy knew otherwise. Unlike poor Lydia, Elizabeth had the security of a public engagement, settlement papers, and an honorable gentleman who would care for her always. Still, he could not suppress a small amount of self-reproach at having committed an act that, should anyone learn of it, might allow Elizabeth to be subject to gossip and censure.
Chapter 18
The two elder Miss Bennets were finally able to be outside by themselves while Kitty and Mary took their turn to listen to Mrs. Bennet’s complaints and keep her from talking about Lydia to the servants. For Elizabeth, even the warm July sun on her face and the company of her dearest sister brought little comfort to the tumult of her mind. Until Lydia was safely returned to her family—without her elopement becoming common knowledge—Elizabeth was continually anxious.
They soon saw the housekeeper coming towards them. “I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting you, but there is an express come for you from Mr. Darcy. The master received it, but I see he has not sent for you, so I took the liberty of coming to tell you.”
Elizabeth suspected Mrs. Hill’s entreaty was due to curiosity since none of the servants knew what the confusion at Longbourn was about, but she thanked her just the same. The girls ran through the vestibule and into the library where their father sat staring out the window. Jane, who was not so much in the habit of running as Elizabeth, panted for breath and held onto the door frame while Elizabeth cried out, “Papa, what have you heard from Mr. Darcy?”
“I have not read your correspondence, Lizzy, for what good is to be expected from it?” he said, taking the letter from his pocket. “But perhaps you would like to read it?”
Elizabeth caught it from his hand, asking whether he would like her to read it aloud, but was summarily denied. Apathetic, insensitive man! She and her sister went to the empty breakfast room, too excited to speak any further. As she broke the seal, she remembered the last time she had read a letter written in the same neat hand, its sharp pen strokes demonstrating the thought the author put into every word.
Berkeley Square
Wednesday, July 8
My dearest Elizabeth,
At last I am able to send you tidings of your sister that, I hope, will give you and your family satisfaction. Soon after Bingley and I arrived in town, I learnt in what part of London Mr. Wickham and Lydia were staying. The particulars of this discovery I shall reserve till we meet. They are not married, nor can I find there was any intention on his part of being so. Nevertheless, she has been returned to the Gardiners’ home. Bingley and I are confident this has been accomplished without the truth of her whereabouts from Friday last to Monday afternoon being known.
Your sister was reluctant to remove from where Mr. Wickham had left her and keeps her hope that he will return. Bingley, with ingenuity and pleasing manners, was able to convince her to return to her uncle’s home. When the Gardiners depart for Longbourn to begin their northern tour at the end of next week, they will bring Lydia with them. The story will be that Lydia left Brighton to visit with her relations in London before they embarked on their holiday.
At Bingley’s request, he and I shall remain in town until Friday so that he can accompany Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley to Netherfield as Mr. Hurst has returned to Bath. It is my earnest hope that when I return we might place this distressing situation behind us since Lydia and Mr. Wickham’s brief living together is not common knowledge. I look forward with delight to our approaching marriage, and I know your loving heart will forgive my impatience for us to soon be gone from Hertfordshire.
I remain, with compliments to your family,
Yours affectionately,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
“Is it possible?” Elizabeth asked her sister. “Can it be possible this dreadful situation is over?”
“It appears the gentlemen have succeeded in every way. Lydia is to return home, and no one, save for the Forsters and ourselves, know of Wickham’s involvement in her leaving Brighton.”
“He does not write of encountering Wickham. Do you not wonder where he has gone and what he might do?”
“You fear he might expose Lydia? I comfort myself with thinking he is ashamed of what he has done and would be too mortified to admit his involvement in the whole of it.”
It occurred to the girls that their parents were ignorant of what had happened. They went back to their father to make the letter’s contents known. He was reading, Elizabeth noticed, her marriage settlement and, without raising his head, coolly replied, “Just as you please.” Jane told her father that Lydia was discovered and would soon be returned, and Mr. Bennet nodded once.
To Elizabeth’s complete disappointment, he did not look interested, disturbed, melancholy, or anxious.
“How will you manage Lydia after she comes home?” she asked her father. Every previous attempt of hers and Jane’s to check their youngest sister had failed, and Lydia was as likely to laugh and talk with the same wild volatility as she did before she went to Brighton.
“Lydia seldom listens to anyone more than half a minute; in fact, she rarely attends me at all. I am not inclined to waste my time on irremediable daughters. Besides, you told me all I need do in the matter is thank your Mr. Darcy should he bring her home. I would settle for that if I were you.”
“Lydia should be allowed no liberty, no society, and no amusement until we can be certain that she is reformed.”
“I do not need to hear your opinion. She is recovered, and no one is the wiser for what she has done.” There was a note of finality in her father’s voice, but Elizabeth ignored it.
“You cannot assume that she will no longer be self-willed or careless! Lydia may—”
Jane laid a firm hand on her arm. “Perhaps she will not be as boisterous or unguarded after this distressing event, Lizzy. We should tell the others Darcy’s news.”
My father is content to laugh at us or ignore us, and he will never exert himself for the sake of any of his daughters.
Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet. One communication, therefore, would do for all. After a slight preparation for good news, the letter was read aloud. Mrs. Bennet was pleased to hear of her daughter’s impending return but dissatisfied that Wickham could not be discovered.
“But why does he not search for Wickham?” Their mother was not ready to give up the right to be fidgety and nervous. “Darcy might yet fight Wickham and make him marry her. It would be delightful to have three daughters married before the summer is out.”
“Mamma!” Elizabeth cried. “We are fortunate Lydia’s reputation is undamaged. Now listen, all of you, we cannot mention this before anyone. Darcy and Bingley have suffered enough mortification in order to bring her home, and I will not have their efforts be in vain by gossiping.” Mary and Kitty mildly nodded; Mary never spoke to anyone unless she was quoting from her extracts, and Kitty had attention for only fashion and officers in red coats.
Elizabeth took refuge in her own room where she might thin
k with freedom. Her patience for social engagements, her father’s apathy, her neighbors’ gossip, her sisters’ insipidity, her mother’s nervousness, and lastly Lydia’s spectacle had reached its end. Darcy had been right about her in Kent: Elizabeth never had a strong local attachment to Longbourn. Elizabeth may not have seen much of the world, but she had always known that she lived in a small part of it.
Her allegiances felt closer to the Darcys than the Bennets, and Elizabeth knew that her actions with Fitzwilliam in the cottage only added to that feeling. She smiled as she remembered the details of that morning—the warmth of his breath on her neck, her rush of excitement when he entreated her to undress, the surprising comfort of his weight on top of her. Her marriage to Darcy, in her mind and in her heart, had already begun.
Elizabeth considered poor, foolish Lydia, who—she could not deny—had likely given herself to the man she thought she would marry. The difference between them was that Lydia had pledged herself without the benefit of a public engagement to an experienced seducer instead of an upstanding gentleman. Lydia had eloped with an officer who courted her attentions for only a few weeks, whereas Elizabeth had a sanctioned engagement to a man who had a long-standing acquaintance with her. But if anyone learned what she and Darcy had done, she would be nearly as embroiled in scandal as Lydia would be.
***
Saturday morning, Elizabeth took her solitary walk towards Netherfield although the clouds had yet to be burned off by the warmth of a July sun. Her purpose was to put herself in the way of Fitzwilliam. The Netherfield party arrived late last night, and although she was confident he would waste no time in calling, Elizabeth little liked the thought of sitting at home with her work basket and gazing longingly out the window. She laughed aloud at the memory of her desire to avoid encountering Fitzwilliam in all her morning rambles in Rosings Park.