His Choice of a Wife

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His Choice of a Wife Page 24

by Heather Moll


  “I cannot,” he whispered, sadly shaking his head in defeat.

  “How can you say that? Bingley is easily led by you. It would be the work of an instant to suggest that he return to Jane.”

  “Have I not already done so once? I have interfered far too much!”

  “You would say nothing and let Bingley break Jane’s heart? How can you be so uncaring?” she cried as she looked down at Jane’s shaking shoulders.

  Were he not aware of Elizabeth’s charged feelings, he might have left the room after being unjustly accused. His heart broke for Jane, whose quiet civility, kindness beyond words, and sweetness of temper made Darcy feel she deserved ever so much more than Bingley’s fickle affection.

  “I am not devoid of every proper feeling, Elizabeth. Bingley has done a despicable thing, but I cannot and will not dissuade him.”

  “That is amusing coming from you!” she spat.

  “You despised my interference last autumn! Or might I only manipulate my friends when it suits your purpose?”

  “Your bickering is senseless,” a weepy voice interrupted them, and their gazes turned back to Jane. Darcy exhaled sharply and raked his hand through his hair as he stepped away. Until now, his life had been well-ordered, predictable, and steady, and never had he been forced to contend with such strong emotions amid such vexing circumstances. Under greater control, he turned back to where Elizabeth was sitting and found her looking contrite and weary.

  Jane wiped her teary eyes with her hands. “Darcy is not responsible for Bingley, Lizzy. Let this not come between you! Bingley—Mr. Bingley had valid concerns about the reputation of his family should he marry into ours. Everything must sink under such a proof of family weakness as Lydia’s situation. ’Tis such an assurance of the deepest disgrace.”

  “Jane, no! Mr. Bingley did not act honorably in leaving you. It is shameful!” Elizabeth pushed Jane’s hair from her face.

  “He spoke at length of his doubts, of his fears about our reputations, of his ever being considered a gentleman, of Caroline ever marrying—that he was from a respectable family and had to think of his future. I had to, Lizzy. I had to offer to release him!”

  “Oh, tell me you did not!”

  “His countenance appeared so relieved when I offered to let him go.” Jane’s voice was lost in sobs.

  Darcy went to Jane, and when she saw him approach, she attempted to rein in her tears. He lifted her hands gently, and his voice broke when he attempted to speak, the sight of such a kind soul in agony almost too much for his sensibilities to handle. “I wish I could say anything to comfort you, but it is wholly out of my power. I am, dear sister, your most obedient and humble servant. I shall add only that he does not deserve you, Jane.”

  Darcy squeezed her hands and let go. Giving Elizabeth a meaningful look, one that he hoped conveyed his desire to speak with her privately, he quit the room. He entered the vestibule, ready to inquire after Mr. Gardiner, but found Lydia instead, seated on a stool in a window recess. He might have passed her by had she not called to him, and he could not avoid her.

  “Is it true? Has Bingley jilted Jane?” she asked, with less of her regular composure.

  “Yes.”

  “How unfair! Whatever Bingley may have heard against me, it is inexcusable that he should abandon Jane.”

  “While much of the blame falls to Mr. Wickham, you might have considered all the possible ramifications of your elopement before you disregarded our social mores and gave yourself over to him.” He regretted his rudeness, but Lydia did not appear offended, merely resigned.

  “And what about you, Mr. Darcy? Are you not fearful of the scandal intruding on your family honor?”

  “Of course I am, but I would never give up Elizabeth! I have a sister your age, and I shall care for you just as I would for her. I shall do all I can to see that Mr. Wickham marries you.”

  “And keep me out of sight should he not. I shall only marry Wickham, you know. You will not pass me off on some tenant farmer. Oh, not because I love Wickham, but he ought to do right by me, and I would have such fun provoking him. But I would much rather stay at home. I would never do anything like this again. Please, I don’t wish to be sent away to Ireland. Papa and Uncle Gardiner will do whatever you suggest.”

  “Your well-known”—Darcy struggled to find the suitable words—“departure from chastity leaves us no choice. Sadly, your entire family must suffer along with you, and their disgrace is all the worse the longer you remain in their company. Surely your family has explained to you that you can no longer move in the same society as they do. Bingley’s abandonment will, sadly, not be the last.”

  Lydia sighed miserably, but did not challenge him.

  “I do feel badly for Jane. She deserves better than this. If even kindhearted Jane hates me, I might as well leave Longbourn whether Wickham marries me or not.” Lydia paused to consider Darcy before continuing. “I suppose you are wealthy and important enough to weather a scandal if you still want Lizzy. Your being handsome likely helps as well.”

  Darcy was mercifully saved from replying because Lydia was not finished. “I could not say for certain where Wickham is, but he often spoke of taking me to Bath. If you find him there, you must make him promise to take me to a dress ball in the Upper Rooms.”

  Lydia, although suffering from some semblance of remorse, still felt equal to address Darcy on such a topic. After looking at her in unconcealed astonishment for a long moment, Darcy, with grave propriety, begged to take his leave. Lydia curtseyed and left to return to her own apartment. He could only shake his head at her back as she ascended.

  ***

  Elizabeth wanted to scream against the injustice suffered by Jane. The shock upon entering the room soon after Bingley quit it and seeing Jane overcome with grief was not soon to be recovered from. Every moment she held Jane brought fresh agitation for her sufferings. How she loathed Bingley!

  “Lizzy, when will I cease to regret him?” Jane asked pitifully when her tears temporarily subsided.

  “You will be happy again, I promise you!”

  “I thought all my cares were over. I thought all was safe for a lady who was engaged and that no harm could come to us when we learned of Lydia’s situation.”

  “Perhaps when Mr. Wickham marries Lydia, when all the gossip has ceased, and there is some other scandal to occupy the collective—”

  “No! I could not bear it. To be brought together again and risk being separated another time? No, ’tis too much. Mr. Bingley does not want me, and we shall never marry. I am only pained because I know I shall never be happy without him.” Her tears began anew.

  The two sisters sat together for some time, much longer than Elizabeth realized, until Mrs. Gardiner entered to check on Jane. Their aunt had come to be of use to one more deserving of her attentions than Mrs. Bennet. She was able to persuade Jane to return to her own room and promised to spend the rest of the afternoon comforting her and reminding her of all of Mr. Bingley’s dreadful qualities. With a small smile, Jane agreed, and Elizabeth remembered that Fitzwilliam was still somewhere in the house.

  She discovered him in the dining room—alone—and Elizabeth was sure she could never forget the sight of him. He sat at the table, leaning over it with folded arms, his face concealed as if overpowered by the feelings of his soul and trying to calm them. He did not look up when she entered, but Elizabeth could see from his shifting weight and the movement of his shoulders that he knew he was no longer alone.

  “I regret criticizing you so harshly,” she offered quietly. “You are not at all unfeeling. I was so heartbroken for Jane that—”

  Fitzwilliam lifted his head and waved his hand as he rose. “There is no need. We are both under undue strain and shocked by this morning’s events. I have not spoken to, nor even seen, Bingley since yesterday. He has avoid
ed me.” He cursed quietly. “I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman’s feelings.”

  “Not only shall we all suffer for having a fallen sister, but Jane will suffer the added burden of being a jilt. It will further impugn her prospects should she try to marry from this neighborhood. Since the banns have not been read and Jane released him, I doubt that Mr. Bingley’s reputation will be much affected.”

  “He has used Jane ill, deserted and disappointed her, and worse, he has shown a feebleness of character in doing so!”

  Elizabeth knew that Fitzwilliam’s own decided and confident temper could not endure such weakness in a gentleman. “Jane’s feelings will prey upon her. Mr. Bingley, as a man, will have continual occupation that will weaken whatever little remains of his affection for her.”

  “I hope you do not imply that all men are so inconstant.”

  Perhaps not so long ago she might have been quick to judge, to assume the worst of him. “I should deserve utter contempt if I supposed true attachment and constancy were known only by women. You yourself are proof of that. I can now agree with you that Mr. Bingley never truly loved Jane. I would not have believed him to be overly concerned with rank and reputation, considering his family background.”

  “On the contrary, it explains a great deal.” Elizabeth’s face must have expressed her disbelief. “Bingley is from a respectable family, and his father left him property to the value of nearly a hundred thousand pounds, all from the cotton industry. He still receives income from the manufactories, but his father had sufficient money for his son to be brought up as a gentleman.”

  “If he was raised as a gentleman, it is all the more despicable for Bingley to behave in so disgraceful a manner as to break his engagement.”

  “Bingley has always desired to join the landed gentry. His father’s greatest wish was to see his family settled in an estate and sever all ties with the trade that made him wealthy. Marrying the daughter of a gentleman would have aided him in achieving a desirable status. He undoubtedly fears that, as a newly wealthy man, his reputation would suffer for having a wife whose sister is known to have a natural child.”

  “I suppose I should be grateful that you inherited your landed estate over many generations. Thank goodness your family is old enough to withstand the scandal,” Elizabeth answered wryly.

  “Lydia spoke to me of much the same thing.” They stood silently across from one another, each lost in their own sad thoughts on the affair.

  “I have decided not to join the Gardiners on their northern tour when they leave tomorrow.” Elizabeth made no attempt to hide her disappointment. “Jane needs me. At the least, I can shield her from all of our mother’s criticisms and be of some comfort to her. Lydia will accompany my aunt and uncle. They are not happy with having only her for company, but they understand why I ought to remain with Jane.” She ached at the idea of sitting idly at Longbourn, but she could not leave Jane alone at a time like this.

  “I shall leave for London to search for Wickham immediately after the Gardiners depart. Will you meet me again tomorrow morning?” His voice was just above a whisper, and he gave a glance towards the door. “I do not wish to say good-bye to you in front of all the others.”

  “I had not expected you would ask me that,” she replied slowly.

  “Must I always do what is expected of me?” His tone was urgent. “Must I always do what is decorous and correct? Can I not simply be a man who longs for the company of the woman he loves?”

  Elizabeth remembered his passion the morning in the cottage: unreserved, wildly happy, and joyful. That morning he had not been Mr. Darcy of Pemberley with hundreds of people dependent upon him and responsibilities laden upon his young shoulders. She thought for a moment that perhaps he might have been lonely amid so much obligation and civility.

  “Of course you can! I feel the same. I shall meet you at daybreak. The Gardiners will not leave until after ten o’clock, so we shall have plenty of time.”

  “No, you have entirely…you have mistaken my meaning. I am not asking…I do not mean to imply that we must…I simply want to spend time alone with you, Elizabeth.”

  She found his embarrassment endearing. She smiled indulgently as she settled herself in his arms. “Are you prepared to suffer all the gossip should your efforts to find Wickham be in vain?”

  “Having you as my wife will offer me such happiness that I shall have no reason to repine. I shall return soon to marry you, my dearest Elizabeth, no matter where Wickham is, no matter Lydia or Jane or anything else. I love you, and unless you send me away, nothing will keep me from you.”

  Chapter 21

  Upon entering Netherfield, Darcy was faced with the exact situation he had hoped to avoid. Miss Bingley greeted him as the footman relieved him of his hat and gloves and, while clutching his arm as if she were drowning, asked whether she might speak with him privately. Unable to dismiss a lifetime of well-bred manners, he showed her into the parlor, purposely leaving the door open.

  “Mr. Darcy, I am shaken at the news from Longbourn, and I simply had to take the opportunity to enquire of your well-being.”

  “I am disappointed and grieved but determined to do all that I can to right the situation.”

  Miss Bingley’s eyes glowed, and she smiled demurely. “Quite so—I had expected nothing less from a man of your integrity. Charles has already been to see Jane, and although Eliza has not her sweetness of character, she will not be unreasonable to your request.”

  Darcy attempted to understand her. Did Miss Bingley suggest that he would petition Elizabeth to release him? He knew not whether to laugh outright or unleash the full extent of his anger. “I am a happily engaged man! I could not declare off now if I wanted to, which, I assure you, I do not.”

  She raised her eyebrows, her expression souring. “I assumed this scandal would compel you to acknowledge that your notice was not engaged—only your fancy! I hoped that I might comfort you at this trying time. Eliza Bennet has always been very forward. In light of her sister’s…I must say, I lack the words to describe such a shocking affair. Suffice it to say, I presumed that to continue an engagement with such a woman would be at a variance with your good breeding.”

  “Your presumption is offensive.” Darcy was in a foul temper. “You fail to consider the possibility that I am in love with Miss Elizabeth and that she is too in love with me to release me. In addition, my honor as a gentleman requires that I both respect my intention to marry her and do what I must to preserve the reputation of her family.”

  “In love? Such romantic language!” She laughed. “I can imagine an underbred woman like Eliza making a habit of falling in love, but I would have thought that a man of your birth and education would prefer to see more restraint in the lady he married.”

  He stared at her incredulously. “I shall no longer suffer your impudence or simpering attentions.” He gave her one last, stony look and left the room.

  Darcy wandered Netherfield’s principal rooms looking for Bingley. He was surprised to find him in the library; it was the last room Darcy had thought to search. Bingley sat in one of the upholstered chairs before the tall windows facing the lawn.

  He had intended to behave with courteous dignity towards Bingley, for there was a steady friendship between them. But upon seeing Bingley’s composed features as he gazed out the window, and remembering Jane’s sorrow, Darcy could barely control his anger.

  “What the hell have you done?”

  Bingley let out a groan at the sound of his friend’s voice and sank further into his chair. “I have done what is in the best interest of my family and my reputation.” He leant on the chair arm and rested his head on his hand.

  “I am by no means convinced that this is in the best interest of your reputation!”

  Bingley stood to face him. “There is nothing you can say to chang
e my mind. I am resigned to my fate. Jane”—he cleared his throat—“Miss Bennet generously offered to release me from my promise in the face of the scandalous nature of Miss Lydia’s situation.”

  Darcy shook his head. “I have no right to interfere, and I am sorry to have done so in the past. I am simply trying to understand how you could have done this. You were an engaged man who has jilted a respectable lady. You know that Jane is nothing like Lydia.” Darcy was struck by another thought. “Have you been convinced by your sisters to give her up? Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst have always treated the Bennets with—”

  “I did not give her up to oblige Caroline and Louisa. I am not so easily persuaded, at least not any longer. I was warmly attached to Jane, and it will be some time before I see another woman whom I think to be her equal. I had to consider my respectability!”

  “A gentleman’s respectability is intrinsically linked to the dependability of his word.” Darcy tried to keep his voice calm.

  “I am not as fortunate as you.” Bingley spoke without any hint of malice. “I wish to make my way in the world as a gentleman, and if I marry the sister of a fallen woman with a natural child, the disgrace would be insupportable. A fortune made from trade already speaks against me. I am not blind to Miss Bennet’s connections, and the behavior of her family is—well, perhaps there cannot be too little said on that subject. Miss Bennet’s attractions do not outweigh the denigration of Miss Lydia’s situation. She has caused me to genuinely doubt Miss Bennet’s respectability. How can I enter into a marriage with that sort of doubt?”

  If society learned that Elizabeth gave herself to me, it would hardly matter in their minds that we are engaged, and she would be thought morally weak. His reputation would not suffer at all, but Elizabeth would be condemned nearly as much as poor Lydia would be. The unjustness of the woman bearing all of the criticism and consequence for an act that takes two people to complete weighed on Darcy’s mind. Wickham, as a man, would be received anywhere with no disapproval for his role in the affair, but the scandal and shame would ruin Lydia for the rest of her life.

 

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