by Dixon, P. O.
“I have not seen Mr. Bingley this happy since he returned from Hertfordshire. I pray he and Miss Bennet have resolved their differences and come to a new understanding.”
“That may soon be the case. We can only wait and see.”
“Brother, will you please tell me what has been happening? I know it must be dreadful, for I have yet to receive a letter from Elizabeth since my last correspondence, and it is not like her to allow this much time to pass before she replies.”
“Dearest Georgiana, I fear there is something you should know about the goings-on in Hertfordshire—that has directly affected the Bennets. I have not said anything before for fear of upsetting you, but I think the time has come for you to learn what has occurred.”
“I pray Elizabeth has come to no harm!”
“I believe Miss Elizabeth is in good health, at least I hope she is. What I am about to convey involves her youngest sister.”
Darcy asked Georgiana to have a seat. “Miss Elizabeth’s youngest sister is married—to George Wickham.”
Georgiana gasped. “Elizabeth said nothing of her sister being engaged. Do you—do you suppose she has learnt of my past with George, and she said nothing to me about the engagement for fear of how I might react to the news.”
“I am afraid the circumstances of the wedding are such that Miss Elizabeth would not have confided them at all. Wickham did not marry her sister out of love; he had no choice but to marry after he persuaded the young girl to run off with him.”
Georgiana coloured. “Do you mean to say they eloped?”
“To her credit, the youngest Bennet daughter truly supposed they were eloping, but Wickham never truly had any intentions of ever marrying her. She had no fortune, no connections, nothing to tempt him—save her … her.” Darcy stood and walked to the window. “The two of them were found in a disreputable part of London, living together as would a man and his wife—out of wedlock.”
For the longest time, Georgiana said nothing as Darcy recounted those details suitable to his sister’s maidenly sensibilities. Darcy read in her expression pain, confusion. She folded her hands in her lap. “It is no wonder Mr. Bingley ended the engagement. In light of the social consequence had he aligned himself with a family disgraced, I suppose the shame would have been too insurmountable for a young man whose friends and status must always be increasing.”
“Actually, Miss Bennet ended the engagement. As you have witnessed, Bingley was quite devastated.”
“By her sacrifice, it is evident she loves him very much. Now that Elizabeth’s youngest sister is married, I suppose it worked out for the best. Mr. Bingley seems to agree.” Georgiana raised an inquisitive brow. “Brother, I have but one question.”
“Ask me anything.”
“How does this development affect your opinion of Elizabeth?”
~*~
Although Bingley had not stopped talking about the prospect of returning to Miss Bennet’s side since entering the carriage, Darcy had managed successfully to hear very little of what his friend said, for he had weighty matters of his own to attend.
How shall I meet Elizabeth again after our acrimonious discussion in Kent? Everything she had accused me of—my haughtiness, my selfish disdain for the feelings of others—all bore a measure of truth. Having spoken with my cousin and having seen for herself Wickham’s vile propensities, I only hope she will view me in a more favourable light as regards my mistreatment of others. As for my ridiculous demands that a life with me meant severing ties with her family, I must find a way to show her that I have learned to think better of such a harsh demand.
The carriage was nearing the outskirts of town when Bingley bolted from his seat. Kneeling before Darcy, Bingley grabbed his hand.
His eyes widened, his mouth agape, Darcy jerked his hand away. “What on earth are you doing?”
Bingley reached for his friend’s hand again, to no avail. “I mean to rehearse my speech to Jane. You know how much this means to me. After what I have done, I can hardly afford to make a mistake when I request my Jane’s hand in marriage.”
Darcy abruptly moved to the opposite seat. “For Heaven’s sake, Charles, when I said I would do everything in my power to see that you and your angel were reunited, this is not what I had in mind.”
Still on his knees, Bingley scooted to Darcy’s side. “Oh, Darcy! What is the harm?”
“What did you say to persuade her to accept your hand the first time?”
“The first time, I took her hand in mine and asked her if she would do me the honour of becoming my wife. I mean to be a bit more romantic the second time. I mean to ask her on bended knees—however, I fear I may appear desperate and she might pity me. That would never do.”
Darcy blew out a resigned breath. Whatever he had said to Miss Bennet had been persuasive—would that I might have enjoyed such success with Elizabeth. “If you insist upon rehearsing your second proposal, I am obliged to help; however, must you remain on your knees?”
“I think I must,” Bingley replied with lukewarm conviction. “What is more, I must hold your hand.”
“What if Miss Bennet refuses to allow you to hold her hand?”
Bingley’s countenance clouded. “I never thought of that.” He sat on his backside and contemplated the matter.
I wonder if it might help if I renew my proposal to Elizabeth on bended knees—with her hand held firmly in mine. It would be a stark contrast to my first endeavour where I stood across the room and she sat in a chair in the opposite corner. How ironic—even then we were distances apart and I never even realised it.
Bingley stood, brushed off his breeches, and sat on the seat across from Darcy. “I am beginning to think I should forego futile attempts at romance all together. I should simply march in the room and demand a private audience with Jane. In the eyes of God, we are already man and wife. I shall insist that we marry!”
“You will certainly get no argument from Mrs. Bennet.”
“You have a point. Oh, Darcy! Prudence and decorum dictate that Jane must accept my renewed proposal. She never would have ended our engagement in the first place were it not for her youngest sister’s scandal. However, I fear that in light of the way things transpired, I assume too much in thinking my Jane will accept me merely out of prudence. My defection may have taught her that I lack the steadfastness—the staunch conviction of one worthy of being her husband. How can a marriage that is not based upon respect be beneficial to either of us?”
“I take great pleasure in telling you that you are the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed on to marry.” Darcy rubbed his brow. He then wiped his hand over his face. Elizabeth’s harsh words haunted him. That she would utter those words to him when he could offer her every worldly comfort and convenience—the manner of living that every mother in England wished for their daughters, had taught Darcy that all his pretensions amounted to nothing when it came to garnering the respect of a woman like Elizabeth.
Bingley fidgeted in his seat. “On the other hand, what if she believes that I am offering to marry her out of pity—or out of guilt that after I ruined her, the chance of her finding happiness with another man is impossible? That would never do. I love Jane. I cannot live without her? Darcy, what do you think I should do?”
“Speak from your heart.”
Later, as Bingley and he walked up the path leading to Longbourn, Darcy noticed his friend had calmed considerably in view of how anxious he had been the entire time en route to Hertfordshire. It seemed he had transferred all his anxieties and misgivings to Darcy. Whilst Bingley had wrestled over what he should say to persuade Miss Bennet to change her mind, Darcy felt like such a hypocrite after having thoroughly botched his own proposal of marriage to Elizabeth.
Darcy’s heartbeat raced. How will she receive me? Do I stand a chance of winning her good opinion—her heart? Dread gripped him. Bingley is returning to reclaim his lady love. What if Elizabeth sent her suitor away under the same reasoning as Jane had sent Bingley away?
What if the gentleman has returned to claim what he supposes is his? What if she has accepted?
Darcy’s mind was a mixture of troubling suppositions and conjectures by the time they arrived at the door. There was nothing to do now but face the situation head-on. More than anything, he wanted Elizabeth. Only a wedding ring on her finger will impede my quest to capture her heart.
~*~
Mr. Darcy at Longbourn! In spite of the generosity he had bestowed toward her family, Elizabeth would never have suspected such a thing. Endeavouring to see how he behaved before jumping to conclusions that might give rise to expectations, Elizabeth said as little to either of the gentlemen as civility would allow. Instead, she sat down to her work, with an eagerness which it did not often command. She ventured only one glance at Mr. Darcy.
He looks serious, as usual, but what should I expect after our last meeting in Kent? He has never been known for his joviality and affability. Perhaps Mamma’s attitude contributes to his reserve. Elizabeth sighed. As painful as is the conjecture, it is not improbable.
Bingley, she had likewise espied for an instant, and in that short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility which made both Jane and Elizabeth ashamed, especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address to his friend. Mamma’s designs for Mr. Bingley are as blatant as her disdain for Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth, particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill applied. How embarrassing was the unseemly spectacle. Mr. Darcy went through such great lengths to bring about the happiness of which my mamma so proudly boasts while treating him abdominally.
Rather than dwell upon the shocking display unfolding before her, Elizabeth thought of those parts of the letter from her aunt she had committed to memory.
They met several times, for there was much to be discussed. Wickham of course wanted more than he could get, but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything being settled between them, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch Street one afternoon when I was out. Mr. Gardiner could not be seen. On further inquiry, Mr. Darcy found that your father was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, and therefore, readily postponed seeing him till after the departure of the former. He did not leave his name, and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called on business.
Mr. Darcy was punctual in his return, and as Lydia informed you, attended the wedding. He dined with us the next day. Will you be very angry with me, my dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying how much I like him? His behaviour to us has, in every respect, been agreeable. His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but a little more liveliness, and that, if he marry prudently, his wife may teach him. I thought him very sly. He hardly ever mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion.
The passage from her aunt’s letter that kept beckoning her attention summoned once more.
I always supposed Mr. Darcy held you in high regard judging by his having accompanied his sister when she visited you here in Cheapside. I never truly realised the extent of his esteem. How different our next trip to Derbyshire shall be. Dare I hope my next visit to Pemberley finds me on intimate acquaintance with its new mistress?
Now I must beg one thing of you, my dearest niece. Do not keep me in suspense. Will I soon be wishing you joy?
How ironic that her aunt would presume Mr. Darcy had acted on the basis of some understanding between the two of them when nothing could be further from the truth.
She could bear it no longer. Elizabeth’s seeing Mr. Darcy for the first time since their argument in Kent and the rest of the family’s seeing him for the first time since the Meryton assembly must surely have been a shock to them all. No one more than Elizabeth. But while her sisters had regarded him with decency, her mother was determined to give offense. Overcome with embarrassment by her mother’s behaviour as well as shame over the memory of the last time she saw him in Kent, Elizabeth raced from the room.
Soon thereafter, the sound of tentative footsteps interrupted Elizabeth’s reverie. Before she even knew what she was about, he spoke.
“Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth jumped. The burden of the shame she suffered pursuant to her accusations against Mr. Darcy weighed heavily on her, and especially now that the two of them stood face to face. “Mr. Darcy.”
“Pardon me for startling you. You quitted the room so abruptly. I cannot help but consider it is my fault. Perhaps I should not have come.”
“No—no. I welcome your presence. It is just my mamma. I feel I should apologise for her behaviour just then.”
Darcy held up his hand. “No. I should apologise to you for the appalling manner of my proposal.” He took a step closer to Elizabeth. “How can I make amends?”
The rustle of skirts drew their attention towards the path. Through a light cloud of dust, Elizabeth discerned her mother’s approach. “There you are, Lizzy. Mr. Bingley and Jane wish to have a walk to Oakham Mount.” Mrs. Bennet tucked her hair behind her ear and gestured to Elizabeth to walk a few feet away from the gentleman by her side. “Elizabeth, I beg your pardon, but you simply must accompany Jane and Mr. Bingley, and I am afraid to say you must walk with Mr. Darcy. Mary and Kitty will not spare the time. As Jane’s dearest sister, the burden of entertaining Mr. Bingley’s friend falls to you.”
Elizabeth said nothing, but her mother must have read in her silence some discomfort. Mrs. Bennet lowered her voice. “I know how you dislike him. You know I would not ask unless it was absolutely necessary. I believe Mr. Bingley will propose to Jane again. You must allow them a bit of privacy.”
When the party set out for their walk, Elizabeth could not account for the swell of emotions spiralling inside her. She and Mr. Darcy strolled side-by-side, but they may as well have been miles apart. There was so much she wanted to say to him. She knew enough about her walking companion to surmise she had better take the initiative.
“How does Georgiana get along? She must think very poorly of me for not having replied to her last missive.”
“Georgiana is exceedingly well. She sends her regards.”
Elizabeth released a sigh of relief. Mr. Darcy had not allowed this incident with her sister or her own harsh rejection of his marriage proposal to impede Elizabeth’s friendship with his sister. Perhaps there was some hope after all. “I will attend to my lapse by writing to her as soon as I return to the house.”
“I know Georgiana will enjoy nothing more than a letter from you, Miss Elizabeth.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Elizabeth noticed Mr. Bingley and Jane had allowed Mr. Darcy and her to outstrip them. Elizabeth had resolved she would speak with Mr. Darcy on the matter weighing heaviest on her mind. Now was the moment for her to carry out her resolution. Her courage high, she immediately said, “Mr. Darcy, how shall I thank you for your extraordinary kindness to my poor sister, Lydia? Ever since I learnt of all you did on her behalf, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how grateful I am. Were the rest of my family aware of your benevolence, I am certain they would be equally appreciative.”
Darcy clasped his hands behind his back. “I am sorry if the discovery of my involvement was disquieting. That was never my intention. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”
“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed that you had been concerned in the matter. I simply could not rest until I knew the particulars.”
“The Gardiners are fine, upstanding people. Based upon all that I have come to know about them, I suspect your uncle would never have yielded to my assistance if he had not given me credit for anoth
er interest in the affair.”
“Yes. My aunt told me as much in her letter. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for the generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications for the sake of discovering my sister.”
“When I learned of Wickham’s misdeeds, how could I do otherwise?”
“But the degradation you suffered, the expense you incurred, and to say nothing of having to associate with the man who would be your worst enemy.”
“Surely you must know I did it all for you. The truth is I believe I would do anything for you. I have long supposed that to be the case. If I may, I believe I must date the forming of that resolve to the night I first beheld you on the dance floor at the Thurston’s ball, but it would be a long time before I confessed it to anyone—including myself.”
“If I am to be completely honest, then I would have to confess to a long-standing and an undeclared fascination for you as well, but if I told you how it came about you might think ill of me.”
“Me think ill of you? I believe that is impossible, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Now surely you were unimpressed that I was so readily persuaded of Mr. Wickham’s goodness?”
“You were not the first. Even my own father held Wickham in high esteem. I do not fault you in that regard. I am afraid that even in his recently acquired state of matrimony, young unsuspecting women will find him equally appealing.”
“I do not envy the prospect my sister faces.”
“To be George Wickham’s wife is indeed an unfortunate fate. But as you and I both know, your sister does not share our opinion.”
“No—she proclaims she is the happiest and the luckiest woman in all of England. And my sisters and I must forever call that scoundrel our brother.”
Darcy’s muscles tensed. “Were there any other way to resolve this situation, surely I would have elected it.”
“My sister and my mother are delighted by the outcome. Having a daughter married at sixteen is apparently something which occasions a prodigious amount of pride.”