For The Sake Of Her Happiness

by Marley Fulton

  ***

  “Lies… all lies,” gasped Elizabeth as she stared at her reflection in the washbowl that night, several hours after the revelations at the orchard. Composing her restless thoughts, she had deliberated over each word of the recount repeatedly since, without affinity towards one side or another. And the plausible conclusions staring her in the face thereon, were acutely disconcerting. “I would never…” she gasped again, wiping the cold droplets off her features, “never have imagined!”

  That Mr. Wickham was indeed connected to the Pemberley estate and the late Mr. Darcy was established. However, the matter of the will was remarkably disputed in both versions, which implied that either Mr. Darcy or Mr. Wickham was being deceitful. While she could not claim to know Mr. Darcy too well, he did have a noble friend in Mr. Bingley and relations of good repute. Of Mr. Wickham she knew nothing at all before his arrival at Hertfordshire, or of anyone related to him. At Meryton, it was through his looks and manner that he commanded her regard.

  “But as for his integrity...”

  Well, charms apart, she had not been able to conjure from her memory any substantial incident or conversation pertaining to Mr. Wickham that would vouch for his virtue and thus disprove either the trivial faults, or the graver vices he was being accused of. Above all, Mr. Darcy had recommended the name of Colonel Fitzwilliam as witness - the very fact suggesting that he was convinced of his own integrity in the dealings.

  “I have been a fool, haven’t I?” Her eyelids closed in self-reproach, as many other instances surfaced to her memory - instances that she had probably buried under sheets of prejudice as had been suggested. She remembered how Mr. Wickham had publicly disgraced Mr. Darcy’s character in spite of proclamations that his affinity towards the late Mr. Darcy had always stopped him from defaming the son. She recalled how Mr. Wickham was absent from the Netherfield ball despite his assurances that he was not afraid of facing Mr. Darcy. And recollected how he had turned his attention to the affluent Miss King so swiftly following his exit from Netherfield. All of it could only be suggestive of the sort of man who was desperate, covetous and immoral. Terrible vices that Mr. Darcy had never once demonstrated the slightest sign of, during their meetings together.

  “Lord!” she was mortified by her behaviour, and her poor judgement - whether in the case of Mr. Darcy or Mr. Wickham. “As one, who has always been so sure of my powers of perception, I have oft frowned upon Jane’s unsuspecting nature.” She pushed the towel aside - only for her cheeks to feel wet again, from tears. “Those in love turn blind; those who are vain, it seems, turn blind too. Misled, I have thus given into outwardly charms, unfairly favouring one and unduly blaming the other. A creature so foolish I have become, tis laughable. Do I even know my own self anymore?”

  Before she was to blow out the candles of her night lamp, an emotional Elizabeth wrote to her father, cautioning him about Mr. Wickham - exactly as Mr. Darcy had suggested.

  Chapter 9

  On the following day, as she was returning from her walk in the groves, Elizabeth spotted the unusual sight of a carriage parked outside the gates of the cottage. “What…” She hurried towards the walkway, concerned, since the conveyance was familiar. “Uncle Gardiner?” What could have prompted his arrival at Kent with no prior intimation? The matter had to be dire, urgent, or both - and the possibilities that began running in her head were upsetting.

  She rushed inside the door, uncertain what news she might receive and preparing herself for the worst - only to be met with the bewildered frowns of her friend Charlotte.

  “Oh good you are back,” exhaled Charlotte, hurrying towards the table to grab a letter. “It is from your uncle Gardiner.” She handed it over. “Go on,” she urged, when her friend stood transfixed, still as stone, “do read it and let us know that all is well!”

  Elizabeth received the letter with benumbed fingertips. Struggling to hold her hands steady, she opened the folds and perused through its contents. “Lydia… Gretna Green… London... wedding… what?” When she could comprehend none of its lines, she swallowed a fresh breath of air, and continued with a second, more attentive read.

  Dear Elizabeth,

  I trust this finds you in good health and cheer; and I hope you have been enjoying your stay at Kent. I am afraid I come bearing unpleasant news now - owing to which, I have to urge you to end your visit earlier than you might have intended. It was brought to our attention only a day ago that your sister, Lydia Bennet, went missing from home; leaving behind a letter that described the dreadful reasons for her running from Hertfordshire. And dreadful it indeed is, my dear child, for she has chosen to elope with Mr. Wickham.

  “What? Elope?” Her fingers grabbed the letter in shock so hard that it left creases on the paper.

  Further to a few enquiries, we have inferred that they might be at London and not at Gretna Green, as earlier supposed. I would thence advise you to pack your belongings and leave Kent at your earliest possible convenience, to return to London to be with your aunt and sister as a source of support during this time of need while I try and sort the issue along with your father.

  Love and regards,

  Your uncle, Edward Gardiner.

  It took Elizabeth the longest moment to be able to conceive the dismal reality. “Lydia, WHAT have you done? And Wickham, of all people?” Her head still reeling from the news, she did not even know what believable explanation to furnish that would put to rest Charlotte’s curiosity, or explain away the reasons for her sudden departure from Kent. All that she did manage to come up with, while packing in her possessions, was a meagre reassurance that her family was in good health and that they need not worry in that regard. Yes, it pained her to have to disguise the facts from her friend, but it was a matter of her family’s repute, and she could not risk the ignominy it would bring upon them if the news were to spread.

  “Aunt Gardiner and Jane have been sorely missing me, and have requested for my return to London, that is all.” she added with a forced smile, when her belongings were loaded in the carriage within the hour. “Please do convey my gratitude to Lady Catherine for her hospitality over the past weeks, and to Colonel Fitzwilliam for his cordial company; along with an apology on my behalf to both, for not doing so in person.”

  In very heartfelt words did she then appreciate the generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Collins in looking to her every need throughout her stay at the cottage. Following a warm hug to her friend, Elizabeth then stepped into the carriage. She paused, wishing to send a message for Mr. Darcy too. But with her mind fraught with worry, she was incapable of promptly coming up with anything suitable that might be conveyed to him through Mr. Collins. And as her carriage began pulling out, she realised she was to leave Kent with a heart heavier than it was when she arrived at the place.

  ***

  No sooner had the carriage departed from the cottage than Mr. Collins made his prompt way towards the Rosings mansion with the messages for Lady Catherine and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  Following a quick relay of events, his frowns turned forlorn, almost contrite, as he relayed Elizabeth’s message to her Ladyship. Had he not been so engrossed in gratifying his patroness with praises and apologies, Mr. Collins would have noticed the marked effects of his news upon one particular member in the reception room.

  Leaning against a table at a far end of the room, away from all prying eyes, Darcy stared at its top, the grains on its polished surface meshing into a confused blur. “Miss Bennet… left?” During their last encounter, nothing had been hinted that would indicate so sudden a departure.

  “And without so much as a line for me? But, why?” What could be the cause of her neglecting to do so? With most of their misconceptions cleared, he had come to believe that their friendship had grown closer. It was thus unsettling to imagine that she would disappear without bidding him the briefest farewell. Was her sudden leave from Kent a consequence of their conversation regarding Mr. Wickham? In his growing sense of informality around her, h
ad he said something he ought not to?

  “Sir Edward Gardiner - that was who sent the carriage for her.”

  Darcy came away from the table, his thoughts interrupted by Mr. Collins’ mention of the name. He approached the man, “Would you please mind repeating what you just said, Mr. Collins?”

  “Mr. Gardiner, Miss Bennet’s uncle - he was the one, who sent a letter urgently requesting her presence in London.”

  “Oh, I see.” Darcy could almost hear himself breathe a sigh of relief. So, it was the unexpected summon from her uncle that had compelled her to leave in haste. His relief was short-lived however, for that news gave him another reason for unease. If her uncle had called for her with such urgency, it could only mean that the issue was grave.

  Now, he had no business intruding into the affairs of the Bennet family. Neither had she confided in him about the issue, nor was he a friend of the family - his involvement might thus not be welcome. That said, those reasonable justifications would not appease his heart and he could not help but be worried for the sake of her well-being. And after an intense bout of rumination, his decision was made known to the rest of the Rosings’ residents by the next hour.

  “Aunt Catherine, I shall be leaving for London today. Colonel Fitzwilliam can choose to stay back if he wishes, of course; but I have to be at London. There are urgent matters to tend to.”

  Stunned by his declaration, Lady Catherine did protest with vehemence. She suspected her nephew had been influenced into arriving at such a decision owing to Miss Bennet’s abrupt departure, and it was a development she absolutely did not approve of. However Darcy remained firm in his decision - much to her chagrin – and would not be swayed.

  ***

  It was well past noon by the time her carriage pulled up in front of the Gardiner residence. Whatever little joy she might have felt from being reunited with her dear ones, was instantly snatched when she saw the extent of pain that their brief smiles concealed.

  “What are we to do?” uttered Jane as soon as they stepped into the parlour, while her father sat on a chair evidently exhausted from worry.

  “Why could not Lydia have come to me?” Aunt Gardiner shook her head with regret. “Why elopement? Why not do the more honourable deed of getting married first?”

  “Lydia is young and lacks wisdom,” Elizabeth swallowed a hard lump in her throat, as she slowly removed her bonnet and placed it by the mantelpiece. “I fear she has been persuaded by Mr. Wickham into this, as part of another one of his immoral schemes. From what I have come to learn of him over the past couple of days, he is perfectly capable of it.”

  “Yes, I did receive your letter warning me of his intentions,” lamented Mr. Bennet, “but it is too late, it seems!”

  “Dear Lord,” grieved Jane softly, “what will become of our family’s honour?”

  “We shall never be able to step out in society again.”

  “From Meryton to Netherfield, and all the rest of Hertfordshire too,” Elizabeth’s breathe trembled, “we shall forever be the subject of ridicule.”

  “And your mother - what would this do to her?”

  “Perhaps we can try locate them soon,” Uncle Gardiner attempted to allay their fears, “and reason with Mr. Wickham before the news was to come out?”

  Elizabeth kept her fears to herself, owing to the promise given to Mr. Darcy, and to avoid alarming her family further. But based on what had been related to her, she was nearly certain that while Mr. Wickham was perfectly capable of entrapping young Lydia with his lies, he would never marry her. It was at that precise moment that she could also relate to how Mr. Darcy must have felt when the tragedy befell him a year ago.

  “Oh Lord.” Only that morning had things been looking up for her - the prospect of a wedding between dear Jane and Mr. Bingley, a close friendship with Mr. Darcy that she was beginning to enjoy. Alas, it was all for nothing now. For, neither of those gentlemen would want anything to have to do with them hereafter.

  The loss of such invaluable relationships, the devastation and disrepute that it would bring upon her family, along with the unprecedented grief on her father’s face, caused Elizabeth to break down into tears. She hugged Jane and wept over her shoulder for as long as it took to regain some semblance of composure.

  That evening, when Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet returned from their quest in search of Lydia and Mr. Wickham, they had no positive tidings to share, which only served to land a thicker aura of gloom upon the house. Thus, Jane resorted to the solace of an armchair and a book as a source of diversion, while Aunt Gardiner took to embroidering. Elizabeth sat by herself, sipping on a broth to counter the acute headache that the events had afflicted her with.

  It was then that the trot of a horse, coming to a stop just outside their residence, shook them out of the daze.

  “Lydia!” was the name in most of their eager cries.

  However, when Elizabeth peeked through the pane for a better glimpse of the visitor, she was almost certain that her headache had spiralled into a state of delirium.

  “Impossible!” she gasped, staring harder at the visitor walking up to their entrance.

  A couple of knocks later, when Mr. Gardiner opened the door and was introduced to their guest, he was left a surprised man himself.

  “Mr. Darcy has arrived from Kent to meet you, Mr. Bennet.” he ushered their guest in.

  Jane glanced at her sister, puzzled; while Mr. Darcy nodded at those around him with solicitude, until his gaze slowed to a halt when they chanced upon Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet,” he breathed, the furrows between his brows deepening from abject concern. She appeared pale - whatever the matter was, its severity was undisputed if it had rendered her unwell in so short a time.

  Without further delay, he then addressed her father, “When Miss Bennet left Rosings in a hurry, I grew anxious. I thought it appropriate to find out, for myself, if all was well. And if all is not well, to be of some assistance.”

  “What?” Elizabeth set her broth on a nearby table, mulling over the words she just heard, its message tugging at her heart repeatedly. “Mr. Darcy rode all that way for my sake?”

  By the very next instant however, the positivity had vanished. For she was certain that once the sordid circumstances were known, he would not want to involve himself with it. He had a poor impression of her family already, and it would only worsen now.

  Mr. Bennet was the first to speak up. Distressed and disconsolate, Mr. Darcy’s promise of assistance was like a buoy to his sinking hopes, and he did not hesitate to accept the offer. “Perhaps, you could be, sir. You are rather well acquainted with Mr.Wickham, are you not? At Netherfield, I heard him speak about you - though I must admit, it was not in the fondest terms.” He paused, “So, would you have any knowledge of his lodgings, in London?”

  “Mr. Wickham?” winced Darcy, stealing a glimpse of Elizabeth’s reactions, before reverting to Mr. Bennet “What has he done? Has he meddled in your family’s affairs?”

  Mr. Bennet watched his daughters with an unsettled stare, “We could step in the library?”

  “Yes, we can speak in there.”

  Mr. Gardiner showed him the way, and the three men disappeared inside the room.

  Once the door was shut, Elizabeth sorely wished she was on the other side of the wall, privy to the discussions going on. But left out of it, she had to envision the conversations in her mind instead.

  “I cannot believe it…” Jane clutched her hand, drawing her away from the dilemmas, “Mr. Darcy followed you, traveling fifty miles from Kent to London. Did you request that he do so?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “Do you suspect he might have concealed motives then?”

  Elizabeth gently gazed down at the fingers that were curling themselves around the edge of her sleeves. “No. I was fortunate enough to be able to spend some time with Mr. Darcy during my stay at Kent, and have come to realise that he is a man of honourable character. I believe his regard is genuine.”

/>   “Spend some time?” Jane appeared confused, since Elizabeth had never been fond of Mr. Darcy’s company before. “How?”

  “We would occasionally stroll together in the beautiful orchards, or exchange a few conversations during dinner at Rosings, ” conveyed Elizabeth, minimising the nature of all that had transpired between her and Mr. Darcy, lest it gave them another reason to fret. She watched her sister wistfully, “If only I could tell you, that there were promises and plans of reuniting you with Mr. Bingley too.”

  Being the guileless young lady that she was, Jane had no reason to doubt Elizabeth’s account. However, her Aunt, who was not as unsuspecting, recognised that there ought to be more to Mr. Darcy’s acquaintance with her than Elizabeth led them to believe. Regardless, Elizabeth was the wisest of her nieces and she had implicit faith, that unlike Lydia, she would approach her Aunt if guidance of any sort was ever needed.

  ***

  It felt like an entire day had passed before the door to the library reopened. Mr. Darcy’s departure from the residence thereafter was swift. Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner remained equally furtive about the conversation that had unfolded inside the library, enlightening the ladies with nothing further than the fact Mr. Darcy had been informed of the tragedy and that he had, in return, offered his full-fledged support in resolving the business quickly and quietly.

  Strangely, Elizabeth did not find herself very surprised by what she was told for laying her trust in Mr. Darcy was beginning to come quite naturally to her. That said, it could not have been easy for his unforgiving nature to agree to an involvement in the affairs of Mr. Wickham - a man he abhorred. Nor would it reflect well on his own reputation if his involvement in the scandal was revealed. As a gentleman who was very cautious about his honour in society, he had to be aware that this selfless act came with great risk.

  So, nobility aside, why had he chosen to entangle himself in these matters?