by Linda Phelps
Georgiana has been made rather distraught by her brother’s sudden absence. I am convinced she speaks the truth when she says she does not know why he left. She sighs and says, “I see him so seldom that I cherish every day I can be with him.” I also cherish such days, but it is not yet time for me to say so much to her. How fortunate for Georgiana that Louisa and I are here to keep her company. She does not often express her gratitude, but I can see it in her eyes when we enter a room in which she sits in solitude. She would be completely dull without us.
There is not a great deal of society here at Pemberly, particularly when the master is not in residence. Charles has acquaintances from previous stays at the house, but Louisa and I are strangers. We have been called on by a few women, much as happened when we first stayed at Netherfield, but nothing atones for the absence of Darcy. I expect there will be numbers of balls and dinners once he returns, especially when he is ready to announce our betrothal.
When I say such to Louisa she mentions chickens that are not yet hatched. It is a comical thing to say, but what it has to do with the topic at hand is beyond my comprehension.
Miss Georgiana Darcy’s Journal (Pemberly)
At last there is a letter from Brother. He has been almost a fortnight in London. The letter was written on Monday last and says only that his business is taking longer than expected and he will not be home for another fortnight. I pity-him, living in the noise and heat of town whilst here at Pemberly all is tranquil and cool. I have ample time to play my new piano and have taken to drawing some of the lovely vistas the grounds provide. I have asked the sisters if they know of a master who could teach me. Brother will be happy that I have this new interest. If only he were here, my happiness would be complete.
That is not true. There is still Miss Bingley to whom I must behave amiably when she interrupts my pursuits. She claims to believe that it is not healthy for one to be too much alone, even if one is merely reading a book on the little bench by the lake. No, to Miss Caroline, only conversation is an acceptable activity, by which she means she wishes to speak at length on something that is of no interest to me while I remain attentive. How does Brother bear it? I no longer believe he loves her. How could he once he has been acquainted with Elizabeth Bennet?
My hope of a letter from Miss Elizabeth Bennet has come to nothing.. Perhaps she felt she could not take the liberty of writing. Perhaps the sisters are correct. I overheard them speaking of her. They feel that she and Brother have had a quarrel of some sort and that she is safely back in Hertfordshire, there to remain forever, while he is in London to forget his anger with her. They wait for his return, at which time he will have forgot all he knew of ‘Lizzy’ and he will offer himself to Miss Caroline. It is possible they are right. They are much more cheerful than they were when Elizabeth stayed in Lambton, and Brother was most certainly distressed. If he feels as I did when I learned the truth about Wickham, I pity him most sincerely.
Later I asked “Will you return to your home at Netherfield when the hunting season comes?”
“Charles can hunt quite well here at Pemberly,” says Mrs. Hurst.
“We could not possibly leave until we know your dear brother is home and that he is well,” says Miss Bingley.
She expects him to offer her his hand. And why should he not? Would he have already done so if Elizabeth Bennet had not appeared in Lambton?
Darcy brought Lydia Bennet to the Gardiners on Monday. He had complete faith in their ability to keep her in obscurity until the wedding, which must wait for the banns to be announced twice more He did not envy the couple their duty; Lydia would surely be sulky and impertinent. She spoke to him of her need for new clothes in which to start her married life. To her no wedding could occur without them. “I will make no such provision for you,” he said.
“I am sure my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner will do so,” she said. “But as you are the one who insists on this hasty marriage, I rather think you should share the responsibility with them.”
“Do not speak to me of responsibility,” said Darcy.
“Or my father. My mother will explain to him my needs. Aunt and I will spend our days visiting the warehouses to select the best materials. It is not possible that all I need can be finished in two weeks, but some of it can be.
“You must hope that your father and mother retain some of the love they once had for you as their child. It would not be impossible to believe they will refuse to see you again. Sending you money will be quite out of the question.”
“My mother refuse to see me?” cried Lydia. “I assure you, I do not fear that.”
With relief, Darcy saw the girl into the Gardiners’ house. He declined their offer of refreshment, and with a lighter heart than he had known in days ordered his driver to take him home by way of the Park.
He had instructed two of his servants to follow Wickham any time the man left his lodging. Darcy did not fear that he would disappear in order to avoid his obligation to marry Lydia. He had not the money to travel to Ireland or Spain, but he might yet have friends who would lend him enough with which to gamble. Should he be seen to do so, Darcy would interfere immediately. Wickham would not have the freedom to increase his debts until he was legally burdened with a spouse.
Darcy considered returning to Pemberly for a few days, but decided he was not willing to answer the questions with which he would be taxed. The better course was to remain in London until he had himself witnessed the ceremony that joined Wickham and Lydia for life. Only then would he feel that he had done what he could to make amends for his failure to disclose Wickham’s character to those who might be harmed by it.
On the morning of the wedding, Darcy personally escorted the groom to the church. The Gardiners were the only other witnesses to the marriage. Wickham, subdued but not defeated, gave his new bride his arm and led her to the carriage that was to carry them to Longbourn.
“I ask you again,” Darcy said to the Gardiners, “that no word of my interference in this matter is ever to be given to the Bennets”.
Mr. Gardiner shook his head. “I do not like this chicanery, Mr. Darcy. You have acted in a decisive and generous manner in order to bring about a conclusion to this shameful matter. If I may not speak to my brother of it, he will give me the credit which you deserve. He will not be able to speak his gratitude.”
“None the less,” said Darcy, “that is what I wish. You have made me a promise. I pray you keep it.”
Shaking hands with each of the Gardiners, Darcy bid them farewell and began his journey to Pemberly.
Free of his concerns of the past three weeks, the long ride was pleasant. Once he had left the city behind him, a sense of calmness came over him, and he let the horse choose her own pace. In time his thoughts turned to Pemberly, and from there to Elizabeth and from there to the wrong he had done Jane Bennet.
Miss Georgiana’s Journal (Pemberly)
Brother is back. He refuses to discuss where he has been or what he has done, but he is in good spirits, very unlike his manner when he left us. He has heard me play on the piano and the harp and says I have made wonderful progress. Miss Bingley and I sang a duet while I played the accompaniment. He smiled at me throughout. My life is so much happier when he is here, or would be if I ever was allowed to be entirely alone with him. Alas, Miss Bingley feels she has precedence, which may well be true.
I mentioned my desire for a drawing master. Miss Bingley is useful, but I am quite sure I will outdo her level of accomplishment in a very short time. As I expected, Brother is delighted with this plan, and will inquire of his friends in town for a good candidate. He will bring the fellow for the autumn and if he proves to be satisfactory, I will continue with him once we are all back in London. By then if the marriage between brother and Miss Bingley has occurred, we will all be working our way into a new domestic arrangement. I have no doubt she will accept him even should she realize she is not his first choice. I hope Brother trusts me enough to again give me my own establishment.
Some time away from the new Mrs. Darcy would do me good.
Miss Bingley’s Journal (Pemberly)
Darcy has returned at last. He seems well. He could not hide his delight at being with me again. “How wonderful to be home,” said he, looking directly at me. Once he had rested, he insisted on hearing Georgiana and me play upon the pianoforte. When he remarked upon her improvement I told him that I had been diligent in seeing that she practiced with regularity. She and I sang a duet, during which his eyes never left my face. I felt that I was colouring from this scrutiny, but I am sure the colour was becoming to me. Georgiana spoke of my kindness in teaching her the rudiments of drawing. Last fall when we stayed at Netherfield she had sent me a copy of her design for a little table, quite capably executed, but that is not the same as proper sketching.
Darcy has been entirely attentive to me, making it certain I sit next to him at dinner and afterwards when we play at cards he is sure to be at the table when I am. “What think you of the chickens now, Louisa?” said I. “I continue to suggest you not count them just yet,” said she. It is our private little story. In truth, she is entirely convinced, as am I that only days remain until I shall be able to write of my happiness to friends in town.
“Bingley,” said Darcy, “will you accompany me to the spot where we caught the trout when we were with Mr. Gardiner? I have a desire to discover if they are yet there or if they have moved to another part of the lake.”
“With pleasure,” said Bingley. “Let me fetch my kit and I shall be at your service.”
“I would so like to see the place,” said Caroline. “Is it far?”
“Rather far for you to walk,” said Darcy. He glanced at her feet, shod in light slippers. “You would not enjoy it. We do not stay on the paths, you see. We make off through the woods. In any case, I have some private matters to discuss with your brother.”
Caroline’s heart began to beat rapidly. “Then I will wait demurely for you come again,” said Caroline. “Georgiana and I will find a way to amuse ourselves.”
Bingley returned, dressed for the sport. “Charles,” said Louisa, “if you will stay but a few minutes I will send a servant to fetch Mr. Hurst.
“He is napping in the billiard room,” said Bingley. “I would not have him disturbed.”
“We will take him with us when next we go,” said Darcy. “Come Bingley, the fish call us.”
Once alone Louisa and Caroline avoided the library, where they knew Georgiana was reading. “What think you?” whispered Caroline.
“That he will speak to Charles when they are alone!” said Louisa. “Darcy is the type of man who would want permission before he made you the offer. You can have no doubt of it being granted. Caroline, I congratulate you.”
The sisters embraced, then eagerly set about noting the particular objects in the morning sitting room with an interest they had not previously displayed.
The two men walked in companionable silence to the spot they favoured. However, the fish did not welcome them. After a time Bingley said, “Your cook will not have a first course if we continue with this lack of success. Perhaps we should try elsewhere.”
“In truth,” said Darcy, gazing out at the water, “I do not ask you here to fish. I have something to tell you.”
Bingley nodded. He had no doubt that Darcy was about to speak of his desire to marry Caroline. He waited a smile on his face. Caroline would be very happy.
“You remember when we stayed at Netherfield, I suppose.”
“Of course,” said Bingley, puzzled. “I found it to be a very pleasant place populated with very pleasant people.”
“There is one person in particular I wish to mention,” said Darcy. And that is Jane Bennet.”
Bingley looked away. “Have you heard that she is married? Miss Elizabeth did not mention it but perhaps that was the crisis that drew her so suddenly to Longbourn.”
“To my certain knowledge, she is not married.” His friend sighed as if relieved. “Bingley, the stories your sisters and I told you about Miss Bennet’s expected marriage were, I am so sorry to say this, complete falsehoods.”
“What?” cried Bingley. “But why?”
“I’m afraid it is the result of my abominable pride,” said Darcy. He laid his fishing pole aside and smashed one fist into the other.”
“Your pride? I don’t understand.”
“Your sisters and I decided that Miss Bennet was not worthy of you. They feared having her as a sister. After all she had neither money nor family to recommend her. We felt that a marriage with her would demean us all.”
“Demean you?” cried Bingley, “When Jane Bennet is without question the prettiest and sweetest woman I have ever known or can hope to know?”
Darcy nodded. “Thus on the day after the ball we decided to follow you to London and find means to keep you there until you had forgotten her.”
“Forgotten her! How could you do this to me? The separation may have meant nothing to her, but I could barely contain my sorrow when I thought of her.”
“At the time I did not think she was much attached to you. That is my only excuse.”
“Even so,” said Bingley, “had I returned to Netherfield I might have made her care for me. You took away that chance.”
“This is the worst part, “said Darcy. “I have learned that she was in fact very attached to you. She was too well bred to display her heart, but you had captured it. She has, I am told, been quite unhappy since you left Netherfield.”
“I wished to go back, to at least bid her farewell,” said Bingley. “But you dissuaded me.”
“As did your sisters,” said Darcy. “I admit that I have been utterly in the wrong throughout, as have they.”
“You, the people I love most, have plotted against me in this fashion! It is beyond belief. How will I be able to forgive you?” Bingley plunged into the nearby woods until he was out of sight. Darcy did not follow him. He knew his friend was too good-natured to maintain his present state of justified outrage. In a quarter hour Bingley returned. “How could you?” he repeated.
“Please believe that I have asked myself that very question over and over again,” said Darcy. “But now I have a suggestion.”
“I do not believe I care for your suggestions,” said Bingley, but Darcy knew his friend’s temper had left him. “Well, what is it?”
“I propose you go to Netherfield. Resume your life there, call on the Bennets. See if you yet feel the attraction toward Miss Bennet that you did last autumn.”
“I have already informed the agent that I intend to quit the place at Michelmas.”
“Write him that you will keep it for another quarter. Unless he has actually found a new tenant, he will make you no trouble. Better yet, go yourself and tell him.”
Bingley was silent. Then he turned to Darcy. “What it seems now is that I have made a dreadful fool of myself. How could I turn away from the woman I loved more than any other? I will go back, but I insist that you come with me.”
“It will be my pleasure and my penance,” said Darcy. “However, let us not tell your sisters why we go. Something might be said that could never be forgotten.”
“Agreed,” said Bingley. “Look now!” he cried. “I believe I have a very large fish on my line.”
Miss Bingley’s Journal (Pemberly)
I cannot believe what has happened! Darcy and Charles announce that they leave tomorrow for Netherfield! “Whatever is your purpose?” say I. And indeed, what can it be? Charles claims that he needs to see that the house is in perfect condition if he is to return it to the renting agent. He must decide by Michelmas. Then Darcy says, “Or we may find it in such good order that we will stay to hunt as the seasons occur. It is one of the finest places for pheasant that I have ever seen,”
“Brother,” cries Georgiana, “let me accompany you. I long to see Netherfield. I will keep house for you.”
“Not this time,” says Darcy, but perhaps another.”
Louisa spe
aks. “If you are determined to make this journey, Caroline and I must accompany you, and then, of course, we can care for Georgiana if she is also of the party. I pray you brother, do not leave us here.”
I could not open my mouth to say a word. If Darcy and Charles wanted to hunt pheasant they could perfectly well do so here at Pemberly. There is more to the plan than that.
“I suggest the three of you take rooms in Scarsborough,” says Charles. “I believe many of your friends are already in lodgings there, enjoying the sea air. You will be vastly entertained.”
Later I found Darcy alone.” Mr. Darcy,” said I, “why are you agreeing to travel with Charles to Netherfield? It has been not even a year since we stayed there. You risk igniting his interest in Jane Bennet. We have promised each other to do all in our power to prevent their reunion.”
“Perhaps we were wrong to separate them,” says Darcy. “Miss Jane Bennet is a fine young woman. No one can say a bad word about her. If Charles wants her and she is agreeable, who will be injured?”
“I am astonished at this alteration of your views!” say I. I wished to say much more, but I was speaking somewhat loudly and Darcy looked displeased, so I bowed and walked to the next room.
Later Louisa expressed my greatest fear. “They both go to pay court to the Bennet sisters, Charles to Jane and Darcy to Elizabeth. I am afraid, Caroline, that he is lost to you.”
“I will not have him offering himself to Lizzy Bennet,” I cry. “She is nothing. She is nobody. No sensible man would prefer her to me.”
“That is what you do not understand,” says Louisa. “Men are not sensible when it comes to falling in love.”
“It can’t be true!” say I, and I am afraid I began to cry. This situation is too like that of George Longstreet choosing Anne Constable over me. I am in despair.