by Nicky Roth
“How would you know such an expression, Elizabeth? How would any of my daughters know such an expression? Do you even know what you have just said?”
His fist descended upon the table, making his ink well and paper knife jump from the force.
“This was exactly what I was worried about, Lizzy. Worried ever since my daughters grew up. And you of all my girls, you the one I thought to have the greatest sense, you have to be the one to disappoint me thus. I am grieved, shocked, lost for words. I cannot even begin to tell you how disappointed I am in you, Elizabeth. Go! Go to your room, I will see what I will do with you later. But for now get out of my sight.”
Her eyes brimming with tears, Elizabeth turned around and slowly, head hanging in shame, walked to the door. But it was impossible to open it, her hand on the doorknob refused to turn it. It was impossible to leave her father with such a low opinion of herself. A most undeserved opinion to boost. She had done nothing to deserve this kind of censure, she had always seen to behave with propriety and now a most stupid coincidence and an inattentive slip of tongue, born from confusion and hurt, had left her to such contempt.
“Please father, let me explain.” she pleaded, turning around. “Let me tell you what has happened behind this door last night, as I can assure you it was nothing that cannot be told freely and to anybody. Had Mr. Darcy and I been in company, no-one would have thought any of it. Please father, listen to me.”
Seeing his daughter in such great distress, Mr. Bennet did not have the heart to refuse her.
“Do sit.” he offered, pouring himself a glass of Port in an attempt to calm his nerves.
When she had told him all which had occurred leaving out nothing, he was actually smiling. It was a pensive smile, but a smile nonetheless and it reached to his eyes.
“So Mr. Darcy’s gelding is called Clarabella?” he chuckled at last, before getting up and embracing her, caressing her hair as had done from the time she was a little girl.
“I am sorry, my love, for having thought so lowly of you. I know you speak the truth, as you have always been a bad liar, but what if I was not the only one who has observed what I saw?”
“I do not know.”
“Well, I think we might find a solution should the necessity arise. You could always revoke your answer and accept Mr. Collins, of course.” Mr. Bennet suggested wryly and his favourite daughter could not help but chuckle herself.
“Mr. Collins!” Elizabeth remembered with a start, leaving her fathers comforting embrace. “I wonder if he is back yet.”
“Why, where was he going?”
“I think he wanted to declare his love and make an offer of marriage, but I am most curious to whom he has lost his heart.”
“Mr. Collins?”
“Yes Papa, Mr. Collins. I have to say since he proposed, my opinion of him has much increased.”
With a pair of cynically raised eyebrows she was dismissed and at last left her fathers haven.
When Elizabeth entered the sitting room she found her mother and younger sisters engaged with some of the officers stationed at Meryton, who had come round unexpectedly, Mr. Wickham among them.
He had hardly seen her when he appeared by her side as smooth and smiling as always, putting himself forward with his charming and endearing ways.
“Miss Elizabeth, what pleasure. Tell me, was the ball really as pleasant as your sisters proclaim?”
His smiles suddenly held little charm for her as she had begun to distrust them. Considering she had been almost a complete stranger then the familiarity with which he had flaunted his misfortunes, in retrospect, seemed quite inappropriate, ungentlemanly even. Even if he had told the truth his behaviour had been at fault, while Mr. Darcy’s reply had been so much more generous towards his foe. Wondering what might have passed between the two childhood friends she elegantly excused herself and went outside again, wrapping her shawl around herself on the way out. Before she had heard Mr. Darcy’s side of things she refused to make up her mind.
It was beginning to get dark and increasingly colder, but as the noise inside the house once more was close to unbearable even reaching the outside, and if given the choice she would rather wait in the gardens for Mr. Collins to hear if he had been successful in his pursuit, than to stay indoors and listen to Mary’s concertos, her mothers inappropriate remarks or Kitty and Lydia’s childish chatter and snorting laughter.
Wondering where Jane might be, she wandered around in the gloom, the wind whispering in the bare branches and the fallen leaves rustling underneath her feet. It had been an eventful day, Elizabeth mused. A day full of highs and lows. A day that had partly opened her eyes as to her own faults and softened the views to those of her fellow creatures. She had thought Mr. Darcy to be highly unpleasant and had been much surprised by him. She had thought meanly of Mr. Collins and had been equally astonished, now even waited for him to see if she could find out who this mysterious woman was who had captured his heart, and hoping he would return victorious.
Rounding yet another corner she was struck by the sight of two people, one of them unmistakeably her sister Jane, the other one a man half hidden by the shadows of an old elm tree.
Chapter 6
Contemplating whether she should approach or leave, Elizabeth stood rooted to the spot, but only for the shortest of moments. As Jane turned around, hurrying towards the house she held her handkerchief pressed firmly to her mouth as if she needed to keep herself from sobbing aloud.
“Jane, my dearest Jane, whatever is the matter?” she cried out hastening to where her sister had come to a halt as she had heard Elizabeth call out her name.
“Oh Lizzy, Lizzy I am just so unbelievably happy. How can one bear such happiness? Mr. Bingley has proposed – and I said yes, of course. Oh Lizzy, I love him so very dearly I think my heart will burst from all the joy I feel.”
Tears of love, of happiness, of sheer bliss sparkled in Jane Bennet’s eyes which shone as brightly as the stars above, reflecting the golden light of the illuminated windows from beyond the shrubs. Elizabeth was speechless as she wrapped her arms around her dearest sister, almost unable still to believe what she had heard. Glancing over Jane’s shoulder Mr. Bingley came closer, his face displaying similar emotions but without the tears.
“Imagine my surprise when I stepped out in search for Mr. Collins and instead found my dear Mr. Bingley instead.”
“Darcy has told you we are to leave for London tomorrow?” Bingley turned towards the woman who would soon be his sister.
Elizabeth startled. What else had Mr. Darcy told his friend? But he indeed had told her they would do so and hence all she could do was to acquiesce. Jane with regained composure, freed herself from her sister’s arms to break the news to her family. Bingley and Elizabeth were left on their own.
“I could not leave for London without knowing she would become my wife, is this not silly? But she is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld and she has touched my heart in a way no other woman has ever managed. But perhaps I should not speak of other women to the sister of my betrothed.” he smiled, looking quite bashful.
Laughing Elizabeth assured him that as long as her sister came out superior, he could talk of women as much as he chose. They had not come within twenty yards from the front door when, with a wail, it was flung open and Mrs. Bennet burst out.
“Oh my dearest, dearest Jane, I knew how it would be, your beauty was bound to land you a rich man and five thousand a year! Dear me, what a match!”
Closing her eyes in mortification as she had lately done so often, Elizabeth hoped dearly that Mr. Bingley would not take offence. When she opened them again she saw nothing but smiling faces and in a manner so good-natured it was most disarming the man remarked:
“What is my wealth in comparison to what stands here by my side, Mrs. Bennet?”
No reprimand would have been able to silence Mrs. Bennet any better than those lovingly spoken words. With an embarrassed blush she stood there unable
to utter another word and it was only upon the arrival of yet another happy couple that she could do as much as move.
Elizabeth was not only a little surprised when none other than Charlotte Lucas, on the arm of Mr. Collins, walked down the driveway and up towards the small group of people, the latter all the while whispering in hushed tones.
“...you know my dear Charlotte, the fireplace in the drawing room alone cost the excess of six hundred Pounds and it is by no means the grandest one. That would apply to the chimney piece in the blue salon, but it is rarely in use as Lady Catherine says the room is too draughty. But my dear Charlotte, do you know where to find the most endearing fireplace of all?”
Miss Lucas replied she knew not.
“The most endearing fireplace you will find at Hunsford Parsonage, but only after we are married, because what will make it so charming is my wife sitting in front of it.”
With that he lifted her hand to his lips while his bride to be blushed most becomingly.
Two happy couples within four and twenty hours was not a bad outcome after the ball last night, Elizabeth though, stifling a yawn. Hopefully dinner would be ready soon and hopefully the officers were not invited to stay lest she end up next to Mr. Wickham again, for which she had little inclination.
In the drawing room however the hubbub was just as it had been before Elizabeth had left the house, only that Wickham was at present quite engrossed in telling Lydia about his misfortunes with the same expression of cheerful pitiableness he had sported when he had first confided in herself. What was it about this man she had previously found so attractive and which now disturbed her so? After all he had still the same appearance of goodness about him, the same most charming smile, the impeccable manners and he also still looked just as handsome as he had done when they had first seen him in Meryton standing in front of the library together with his friend Denny.
A few instances came to mind which had occurred over the last few weeks. From the start Wickham had flirted with her. No, actually he had flirted with all of her sisters apart from Jane of whom he knew she was about to be engaged. Thinking about it even more, he had not just been paying special attention to her and her sisters, but to every single woman. At first she had put it down to him not caring about rank or fortune, but could there be any ulterior motives to his actions? Once more her mind returned to the book she had discovered last night and what it had said about the first seduction of ones wife:
‘Flirting will win the heart of every woman if done with persistence and once the heart is won, her virtue will not be much of a hindrance. Compliment her, caress her without her noticing, stand close to her and have her feel your presence, but at the same time be discreet, and thus she will surely consent to the marital duty of armorous congress[3].’
With a shiver of indignation she could attest to all of those gestures being applied by the man most frequently. And she was sure he did so deliberately also. Just now he held his hand to Lydia’s back in a way that he would not touch her, but her wild curls as she moved her head when laughing.
She needed to speak to her father and quickly, and yet she had not the heart to disturb his conference with Mr. Bingley.
Walking over to Charlotte and Mr. Collins instead, both of whom were currently assuring Mrs. Bennet repeatedly that they had no intention, in the case of the dreaded event of Mr. Bennet’s untimely death, to drive her and her daughters out of the house and that at any rate she might by then be blessed with a grandson from either of her daughters.
“But this entailment is most unfair, you must agree. See in what a position it brings me and what difference would a grandson make?”
Trying to remember just how many times her father as well as Jane and herself had tried to explain to her mother the concept of an entailment but failing as after the sixteenth time they somehow had lost count, Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
Again Charlotte assured her that they, and especially Mr. Collins as a parson, could not be so heartless as to leave them starving in the hedgerows, before turning towards her dear friend.
“I can see you are surprised, Lizzy.”
“I confess I am, but most pleasantly so. If I did not know it any better I would say this is one of these love stories which are currently so popular with my younger sisters.”
Charlotte laughed, having a sister herself who was particularly fond of this kind of literature.
“So, Charlotte, when did you know your heart was lost to my dear cousin?”
Said cousin bowed pompously, but there was a glint in his eye which showed he was fully aware that he was making a fool of himself at present and this self-deprecation suited him astonishingly well.
“Hm, let me see? I believe it was when he told me about this little lane which separates his most humble parsonage from the extensive grounds of Rosings Park.”
Elizabeth laughed, while Charlotte tried to keep a straight face. But upon hearing her betrothed’s chuckle failed miserably in her attempt.
As if he had sensed her growing aversion Wickham appeared by her side once more uncouthly congratulating them, a false smile plastering his face as she perceived for the first time that it never really reached his eyes.
When she felt his hand hover behind her shoulder ready to gently brush against her should she move ever so slightly, her conversation with her father could wait no longer. It was absolutely necessary to have this man stopped in his tracks.
As she entered the dimly lit entrance hall the dinner bell chimed while at the same time a carriage came to an abrupt halt on the gravel path leading up to Longbourn House, the horses hooves slithering across the little loose stones.
Chapter 7
Within seconds the hall was the busiest place in the whole of the house as akin to a procession eleven people walked towards the dining room from the direction of the drawing room, two people joining them from the library and poor Hill hastened to open the door answering the frantic knock of the newcomer. Only Elizabeth was stationary as she wondered what she should do.
But as it had been ever so often during the last day, she could have saved herself the trouble as what was about to ensue was beyond her influence and for years after would serve as a cherished anecdote, generally told at a later hour.
With a determined mien Caroline Bingley entered the house, glaring at each and everyone before her before, with an ominous tone of voice, of which Elizabeth was sure was taught at no school, she announced: “I will not have my brother sully the family name by marrying this shameless hussy!”
With that she pointed at Jane who, rarely thinking bad of even the greatest villain, had the great presence of mind to answer her in a way which made her sister most proud.
“Then perhaps you should find a husband for yourself and change yours.”
Caroline’s mouth fell open and no matter how much she glared at the woman who was to be her sister in law, Jane pointedly ignored her. It was hard to discern whether Jane was disappointed by Miss Bingley’s behaviour, as with one of her angelic smiles she carried on walking till she reached her betrothed’s arm. Mr. Bingley at first seemed quite taken aback, but as the woman he loved with all his heart smiled up at him, he too chose to ignore his sister.
“Miss Eliza, this is all your doing! Without your meddling nothing of this would have happened. Had you not insisted on your sister staying at Netherfield for the duration of her illness, my brother never would have gotten the chance to fall for this mercenary.”
“Enough, Miss Bingley! That was quite enough! You are not the person who should be speaking of any woman as being mercenary, apart from perhaps yourself.” yet another newcomer silenced her tirade.
Out of breath and decidedly dishevelled Mr. Darcy had not even dismounted from his horse. But as Caroline had refused to cross the threshold, the door still stood ajar letting in the cold night air.
“Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes it is me, Miss Bingley.” he replied at last getting out of the saddle. “I am sorry Bingley,
but your sister managed to escape me, claiming a headache and her intention to lie down. As soon as I realised she was gone I ran for the stables and got on Arab in the hopes of catching up on her before she would arrive here, but he unfortunately stumbled over a tree root and seems to be a bit lame. At last I can see that you have achieved your goal, dear friend. Miss Bennet.”
He bowed, which in his current state of disarray did not look quite as elegant as it normally did.
“Oh Wickham, you are here as well. Why am I not surprised?” he carried on. “But perhaps you should take your hands off of Miss Lydia’s backside, lest I might be tempted to reveal the one or other unsavoury thing about you.”
“Why Darcy, there is a true gentleman. A gentleman who is, as I have heard rumoured, most eagerly making faces[4] with Miss Elizabeth.”
The room fell silent at this declaration. The young women, aside from Elizabeth herself and curiously Miss Bingley, confused at to what Wickham meant, while the men and Mrs. Bennet glared back at him most angrily, all previous sympathy forgotten. Elizabeth blushed furiously under the scrutinizing glances cast in her direction, as if her body was keen on confirming such an assumption.
As Denny stood near him, Darcy reached for the man’s sabre and before he knew it George Wickham was trapped against a wall unable to draw his own weapon.
“One more word, Wickham and I have you rot in debtors prison. One more seduction and I will take care that you will end up like Clarabella.”
Bingley could not help himself, the laugh was tucking at the corners of his mouth and when his gaze fell on Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet, both of whom were struggling equally hard to keep their countenance, he could not keep it in any longer.
“Who is Clarabella?” Denny at last ventured to ask, almost disinterestedly looking at his friend and fellow officer.
“My gelding.”