by Heather Moll
“Where do you suggest I send my daughter? I do not think Mr. Collins will accept her.”
Darcy was pleased to finally speak of actions instead of senseless arguing. “In two days, Elizabeth and the Gardiners are traveling to the Peaks, and Lydia should join them. She will be away from your neighbors’ prying eyes for a month while I attempt to locate Mr. Wickham. It is my hope that Lydia can keep her condition to herself while she travels, and hopefully the rumors will not spread beyond this neighborhood.”
“I agree she ought to be removed, and we shall take her with us, but what will be done if you cannot find Mr. Wickham when our tour ends? And let us not forget that we are not dealing with a gentleman. Should you find him, how will you prevail upon him?” Mr. Gardiner was clearly disheartened.
“Mr. Wickham is a gamester whose dissolute ways have left his finances in a wretched state. When he is found, I shall offer to settle his debts of honor and provide him with the means by which he can support Lydia. Perhaps a commission might be purchased for him.”
“How fortunate Lizzy has managed to capture your attention, Mr. Darcy. I ought to congratulate her on a very important conquest,” Mr. Bennet muttered sarcastically. Darcy’s resolve to treat Elizabeth’s father in a gentlemanlike manner was quickly unraveling.
Mr. Gardiner must have sensed Darcy’s growing fury and stepped in. “You are generous, Darcy, and your commitment to your new family is to be commended. However, we must still address the real possibility of Mr. Wickham not being discovered. What will be done with Lydia if he is not found before the child arrives?”
Darcy suspected this sad likelihood. “It would be ruinous for all of us if she stayed in Hertfordshire or London. I own an estate from my mother’s family in Ireland that I let, but I retain use of the lodge for hunting parties. After we find Lydia a suitable companion, she may stay there for the duration of her confinement.”
“What is to be done with my daughter after that?”
“I leave that for you to determine. I do not know whether I could cast off my child, no matter how far she had fallen. But your whole family will be spurned if she returns, and her child with her. Instead, I believe Lydia ought to be maintained away from the rest of her family. An unwed mother is liable to turn to prostitution or infanticide, and Elizabeth’s sister deserves better than that.”
“You are more generous than Lydia deserves.”
“Let us not forget that Mr. Wickham is equally culpable, and if he does not marry her, he ought to at least be pressed to provide for his child. I agree it would be detrimental to all our families if Lydia were to return here with a natural child. It does not follow, however, that we should allow her and her child to suffer further.”
“Mr. Darcy, my youngest daughter is little more than an ungovernable child. I shall not be further inconvenienced. She costs me ninety pounds a year as it is and I shall spend no more than that on her or her child’s maintenance.”
“If you will not maintain her, then I shall, and gladly!”
Darcy knew that supporting Lydia from afar would be Lydia’s only chance at respectability while maintaining their honor. Mr. Gardiner appeared to be willing to consider the notion, but Mr. Bennet threw his spectacles to the table and stood.
“So I must pay for her myself or be in debt to you for her maintenance? I see what you are attempting to do. You wish for me to agree with your scheme to maintain her abroad and remain in your debt! Who do you think you are to come in here and attempt to manipulate me?”
“Would you prefer to abandon Lydia at a lying-in hospital in town where she would likely die? Or have her live off the charity of some public institution that would teach her needlework so she could find employment in service?” Darcy suggested with equal ferocity. “Where she could be abused by a master who would think he can take liberties with his servants? You would prefer to have your grandchild left at a foundling hospital to an anonymous and uncertain future?”
Mr. Bennet gave no answer, but his eyes glowed with irritation.
“If you have a solution that would minimize your family’s disgrace as well as offer Lydia a secure future, I would be pleased to hear you out,” Darcy said in a clipped voice. Mr. Bennet heaved a sigh but said nothing, and so, after a short pause to collect his composure, Darcy continued. “Rumors and vile stories will now follow her wherever she goes. She will be an outcast if she remains here, as will her sisters, and she will suffer far worse if we do not provide for her and her child. Lydia ought to stay in Ireland, and I shall support her.”
Mr. Bennet turned from the window. “Lydia’s behavior has proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence on my part. I ought to have been the one to ensure she knew better than to conduct herself in such a way. You and my brother might resolve the matter however you please, for I have nothing to contribute to Lydia’s well-being.”
There was a knock on the door, and Elizabeth entered. She was outwardly calm, but Darcy could see that her normally lively spirits were oppressed to the utmost. Elizabeth looked at her father, whose uncharacteristic agitation was apparent, and asked him what the matter was.
“Your young man has formed a plan in the expected event that Mr. Wickham cannot be bribed into marrying Lydia. Mr. Darcy intends to hide Lydia away on his Ireland estate to await the arrival of the little love-child. Lydia will never come home because her presence will be ruinous to us all. Mr. Darcy suggests, since the best she could hope for is to be someone’s mistress, that we hide her and the child in Ireland. He has generously offered to pay for it all himself.” Mr. Bennet returned to his chair, putting on his spectacles.
“It is an alarming thing, to be sure! Darcy, you must know that her greatest fear is to be sent away from those who love her.”
“If Lydia stays, she would be forced to live in shame and obscurity, and you and all your sisters will share in her disgrace.”
“Can you not suppose that Lydia’s disposition will be altered after all of this? That she might share our values and meet all of our expectations?”
Mr. Gardiner attempted to placate his niece while Mr. Bennet ignored them all. “I think what Darcy is suggesting, Lizzy, is that it is too late for Lydia, no matter how penitent she might be. Maintaining her and the child in Ireland might be the best option.”
“How will she be convinced to accept such a notion?”
Darcy took her hand, not caring who saw his affectionate gesture. “The sad truth is that, if I cannot find Mr. Wickham soon, Lydia has few options. We need to consider her and her child’s future and your family’s reputation.”
Elizabeth looked at their joined hands in an attitude of deep meditation and seemed not to hear.
“You look grave, Elizabeth. You disapprove of my plan?” he asked quietly in the hope that the others might not hear. “I shall hear your suggestions, but I believe this is the best way to keep your family from disgrace. Your father is reluctant, but I am prepared to pay for Lydia’s upkeep abroad. Even after all she has done, your sister and her child must be taken care of.”
“No, Fitzwilliam, I am ashamed to admit I was thinking of something else entirely,” she whispered with a small smile. “Poor Lydia can never return home unless Mr. Wickham marries her, and even then it might be wise if she did not. I was thinking of a time not so long ago when you were very much concerned with rank and order.”
He thought back to his first proposal, to the man he had been. “Elizabeth, you taught me a significant lesson in Kent. The value of one’s character means more to me than wealth or status, and your relations are as much my family as they are yours.”
Elizabeth smiled and leant towards him, and he thought she might have kissed him before she stopped and blushed. Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat and mentioned something or other about checking on his children. Darcy spoke of returning to Netherfield to speak with Bingley and write to his cous
in, and with a bow, took his leave.
***
Not wishing to be alone with her father, Elizabeth quickly walked towards the library door, when Mr. Bennet asked her to remain.
“I shall not sport with your patience, Lizzy. Your marriage articles are signed, and you are free to wed your Mr. Darcy when Jane and Mr. Bingley marry. That is all the better, I suppose, since your betrothed appears to be determined to settle the matter with Lydia before he begins his life with you.”
“Do you still think me a fortune hunter marrying for social position?”
Mr. Bennet for a few moments remained silent, but when he spoke it was with none of the bitterness Elizabeth had previously heard from him. “No, it is clear to me that you and Mr. Darcy know that wealth and grandeur have little to do with happiness. Indeed, it has been my opinion, as of late, that you and he are well suited.”
Elizabeth looked up sharply at this admission and could not contain a gasp of disbelief. He looked so much in earnest that she bit back her distrusting retort, and he took this as leave to continue.
“Mr. Darcy has knowledge of the world and strong feelings of family attachment and honor. He has lived with the liberality of a man of fortune without display. He seems steady, observant, moderate, and candid—almost to a fault. He is not like the wild men nowadays who think of nothing but themselves. Your cleverness and playfulness will be a credit to him.”
“If these are your true feelings, why have you allowed me to believe that you doubt our attachment?”
“Lizzy, do you not see? After closely observing you and Mr. Darcy, two things became clear. The first is that your solemn young man would follow you to the ends of the earth, and you are so fond of him that you chose not to abuse the great power you hold over him.”
“And the second?”
“The second is that you will be happy with a man who is nothing at all like me.” Her father, sitting in his favorite worn chair with his spectacles perched on his nose, suddenly appeared to be a lonely old man. “No father, no matter how indolent, relishes the thought of marrying off a beloved daughter. I have always thought of you and me as kindred spirits and do not wish to see you leave home.” The silence stretched out before he spoke again. “The pain is all the greater when I am forced to acknowledge that you have chosen a better man than I ever was, or even aspired to be.”
She could not disagree, but after the manner in which she informed Lydia of Wickham’s duplicity, Elizabeth’s character would not allow her to further strain her relationship with her father. “Let us not dwell on such things, for we have far greater concerns to preoccupy us.”
She placed a soft kiss on her father’s head, and with a careless swat of his hand, he shooed her away with a quiet, “Off you go,” that reminded her of simpler days.
Chapter 20
Netherfield Park, near Meryton, Hertfordshire
Tuesday, July 14
Dear Cousin,
I wish my occasion for writing was to reply to your well wishes on my engagement. Regretfully, I have had the misfortune of again encountering the vengeful Mr. Wickham. He seduced, then abandoned, Elizabeth’s youngest sister and left her with child. I feel it my duty to discover Mr. Wickham and do what is necessary to promote their marriage or, barring that, see him acknowledge and provide for his child. In my attempt to discover Lydia, who fled with Mr. Wickham nearly a fortnight ago, I have already taken advantage of Mrs. Younge’s knowledge.
I ask for your assistance in any form it may take but particularly whether you can recall anything of Mr. Wickham’s previous whereabouts or acquaintances that might lead me to him. You may write to me in town, for this task will soon remove me from Elizabeth and Hertfordshire.
I remain, dear sir, your cousin and friend,
Darcy
There was a chance that Wickham might be concealed in town, but he would not be so foolish as to return to Brighton or Hertfordshire. It was a disheartening thought to leave Elizabeth again, but the longer Darcy stayed in Hertfordshire, the less likely it was he would discover the scoundrel.
He had not seen Bingley or spoken to his sisters since they decamped after Lydia’s announcement. Bingley had shut himself in his own apartments. He had gone riding in the morning and then returned to his rooms with instructions not to be disturbed. Darcy had studiously avoided Miss Bingley. He had no desire to hear her opinions on the scandal but was not surprised when he heard from the servants that the women wanted to close up the house and leave Hertfordshire as soon as possible.
Darcy expected Bingley to visit Longbourn with him today, but when he knocked on Bingley’s apartment door for a third time, Bingley’s valet told him that his master would see no one. Darcy found this inexcusable; fretting would not lessen the threat to the Bennet family’s respectability.
When he arrived alone at Longbourn, he saw the Gardiner children in the garden with their nurse and thought to himself it was rather hot for them to be out of doors. They saw him approach, and the elder girls scampered to his horse, looking bright and lively as they shouted their welcome. He could not help but smile at such open-hearted, affectionate girls and greeted them with equal warmth.
“Miss Gardiner, Miss Isabella, I hope I find you well?”
“Mr. Darcy, you can call me Bella and you can call her Fanny,” the younger girl cried. “Lizzy says she will marry you, and since you are family, you can be more familiar!” She proclaimed this as if nothing in the world would bring her greater joy.
“You are most kind, I thank you. Why are you ladies out of doors on such a hot day?”
“Mamma says we are noisy and not under as much order as we ought to be. When we are well behaved, we can return.” With this, she ran back to play without another word.
“Mr. Darcy,” the older girl, who was more demure, said, “what does ‘jilt’ mean?”
Darcy started. “Fanny, where did you hear that word?”
“Aunt Bennet has been saying it all morning. Would you tell me what it means?”
Mrs. Bennet either felt that Lydia had been jilted by Wickham or that he and Bingley might do the same to their respective intendeds. If it were the former, it would not be accurate since Wickham had no formal understanding with Lydia. If it were the latter, he was disappointed that Mrs. Bennet, or anyone, would assume that he and Bingley could so easily break their engagements. There is too much gossip and speculation in the Bennet household!
“I am sure that is a word with which you need not concern yourself.” She gave him a dissatisfied frown. “To jilt means to capriciously end one’s relationship with a lover. To break the promise to marry someone without reason,” he simplified.
She seemed satisfied with this answer, and after offering a ladylike curtsey, she too ran back to her siblings. Shaking his head at the trouble Mrs. Bennet’s nervous fluttering had caused, he entered the house.
He was startled at the bustle of activity he saw as he entered. Mrs. Gardiner hurried past him and ran up the stairs with only a nod of greeting, and Mrs. Bennet’s wails of malcontent were audible from two floors above him. He could hear someone sobbing in the parlor and Elizabeth’s consoling voice in reply. Darcy presumed it was Lydia, and after debating the strength of his desire to see Elizabeth against the impropriety of coming upon Lydia while she was in tears, he entered the room.
Elizabeth was on the sofa, her arms around the shaking shoulders of one of her sisters. It was not Lydia she comforted, but Jane. She hung on Elizabeth while sobs of grief wracked her body, her pale face and red-rimmed eyes making her normally lovely features heart-wrenchingly depressed. Darcy paused in surprise, and Jane did not look up when he opened the door, but Elizabeth did, and he could see that her eyes were also filled with tears.
“Good God! What is the matter?” Darcy cried with more feeling than politeness. “What has happened to Jane?”
&n
bsp; “You mean you do not know?” Elizabeth’s voice cracked with emotion.
He mutely shook his head in commiseration. Darcy waited in wretched suspense to learn what horrible event had come to pass.
“Bingley has withdrawn his offer of marriage,” Elizabeth exclaimed, and Jane—sweet, mild, serene Jane—wept anew.
Darcy’s sensations on this discovery made him perfectly speechless. His blood ran cold, and he thought he might actually be ill. He fell into a chair across from them, unable to understand how such a thing had come about. Bingley had jilted Jane? A breach of promise on the part of a gentleman after securing a lady’s affections was wholly unacceptable.
“Are you certain, absolutely certain that Bingley reneged on his engagement?” It was incomprehensible that Bingley could have done such a thing. There must be some sort of terrible mistake—a disagreement that had been misinterpreted. It had happened often enough between Elizabeth and him. Darcy felt his chest tighten, his whole being rebelling against such a notion as Charles Bingley jilting Jane Bennet. How could his closest friend act so dishonorably?
“Yes, he was perfectly clear. He spoke of our lamentable connections to a woman of doubtful character—that he had not known of Lydia’s bad behavior when he made his offer. He said Jane’s dignity had been misrepresented!” Elizabeth’s eyes blazed with righteous anger at Jane’s misery.
As he watched Elizabeth rock and soothe her sister, Darcy realized this was a situation he could not fix. There was nothing he could do, and his authoritative and determined manner could not be a credit to him now. He could not ease Jane’s suffering with money, influence, persuasion, or decisive action. Darcy could only witness her torrent of unrestrained grief in silence.
“You must speak with him, Fitzwilliam!” Elizabeth pleaded. “He respects your opinion. Tell him he need not do this!” She looked beseechingly at him over Jane’s head. What could he possibly say to persuade a man who had broken his engagement? It was a worse evil that Bingley was of too yielding a character, and Darcy doubted his own influence could ever change that.