Georgiana’s smile lit her countenance.
“I knew you the better man.”
“If I marry Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy cautioned, “Mr. Wickham’s ties to this family will never be severed.”
“Pooh,” Georgiana declared. “Miss Elizabeth may keep her relationship with the future Mrs. Wickham without either of us accepting Mr. Wickham as part of the family.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Georgiana called for Murray to serve the next course.
“Now tell me more of Miss Elizabeth. I enjoyed your accounts of her while you were at Netherfield. I always desired a sister. Do you believe she will take to me? Our brief encounter in Lambton only served to pique my interest. Mr. Bingley praised the lady when we returned to his carriage.”
Darcy laughed for the first time in weeks.
“I thought this would be a difficult conversation, but you, my girl, made it exceedingly comfortable. You are growing into a extraordinary young lady. Our parents would be quite proud.”
“None of your flattery, William. As a woman I want to know about what is important in life: the romance.” A girlish giggle followed, and with a like smile, Darcy relaxed into his tale.
Chapter Eight
A fortnight passed since Elizabeth returned to Longbourn, and not a day went by that she did not pray Mr. Darcy would be good to his word and come for her.
“It is too soon,” Elizabeth warned her foolish heart as she stared out upon the familiar pastures easily viewed from the bedchamber she shared with Jane. Her sister had gone below to greet Mr. Bingley. Although the family had yet to receive a confirmation of Lydia’s marriage, some three days after Elizabeth’s return to Longbourn, Uncle Gardiner sent an express to Mr. Bennet outlining the terms Uncle Edward and Mr. Darcy drafted as the settlement’s terms.
Four days later, Elizabeth received a lengthy letter from her Aunt Margaret informing Elizabeth of the wedding details, as well as of Mr. Darcy’s departure for Derbyshire and of the gentleman’s promise to return for the wedding. Elizabeth was half tempted to beg her father to permit her return to the Gardiner’s household just so she might encounter Mr. Darcy again.
“But what if once Mr. Darcy returned to Pemberley he realized the foolishness of aligning the Darcy family with his worst enemy?”
The present unhappy state of her family rendered any other excuse for the lowness of Elizabeth’s spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from that, though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware that, had she known nothing of Mr. Darcy, she could have borne the dread of Lydia’s infamy somewhat better. It would spare her, Elizabeth thought, one sleepless night out of two.
Several days after her return, with Elizabeth’s encouragement, Mr. Bennet joined his daughters at tea.Only then did Elizabeth venture to express her sorrow for what he endured over the past several weeks.
“Say nothing of that,” her father declared. “Who would suffer but myself? It was of my own doing, and I ought to feel it.''
“You must not be too severe upon yourself,'' replied Elizabeth.
“You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I was to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough.''
Then, after a short silence, he continued, “Lizzy, I bear you no ill-will for being justified in your advice to me last May, which, considering the event, shows some greatness of mind.''
Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her mother's tea, interrupted them.
“This is a parade,'' cried Mr. Bennet, “which does one good; it gives such an elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I will sit in my library, in my night cap and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as I can, or, perhaps, I may defer it till Kitty runs away.''
“I am not going to run away, Papa,'' said Kitty, fretfully; “if I should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.''
“You go to Brighton! I would not trust you so near it as East-Bourne, for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at last learnt to be cautious, and you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter my house again or even to pass through the village. Balls will be absolutely prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And you are never to stir out of doors till you can prove that you spent ten minutes of every day in a rational manner.''
Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry.
“Well, well,'' said he, “do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of them.''
Elizabeth, who looked on in sympathy for both her father and her sisters, considered Mr. Bennet too hard upon poor Kitty, but she had become accustomed to her parents’ extremes: Mrs. Bennet’s “nerves” were well known in the area, as were Mr. Bennet’s joy at making sport of his neighbors and family. It much as Elizabeth loved her parents, of late, she wished, more than once, that they saw the peril of their choices.
As the days crawled by, Elizabeth found that she cursed her headstrong reply to Mr. Darcy while in Kent.
“I could have claimed months of happiness if I knew not prejudicial blindness. At least if Mr. Darcy sent me away after learning of Lydia’s misplaced affections, I could claim the memories of our short-lived marital felicity to sustain me.” Although Elizabeth wished otherwise, she imagined an impassable gulf between her and Mr. Darcy. “Had Lydia’s marriage been concluded on the most honorable of terms, Mr. Darcy’s affection could not outweigh his family’s objections to an alliance with me. Lady Catherine would never be pleased to have her plans for Miss de Bourgh foiled by an upstart such as I, and I am certain other members of the gentleman’s family will speak out against a joining. If nothing less, Mr. Darcy must take Miss Darcy’s feelings to heart. How could Georgiana Darcy welcome a sister who holds a familial connection to Mr. Wickham?”
Such was the debate Elizabeth experienced several times each day. She assured herself that his feelings could not in rational expectation survive, and her loss humbled and grieved Elizabeth. She became jealous of Mr. Darcy’s esteem, when she could no longer hope to claim it. She wanted to hear of him, to see him, when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She began to comprehend he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her.
“Should not we have heard from your Uncle Gardiner of dear Lydia’s marriage by now?” her mother pleaded.
Elizabeth and Mary tended Mrs. Bennet. Their mother had not known her parlor for nearly a month.
When news came of the impending marriage, Mrs. Bennet thought to leave her bed and make the short journey to Meryton to spread the news of Lydia’s “engagement,” but Mr. Bennet refused his wife the use of his carriage with a warning, “We will not speak of this among the neighbors until our youngest claims the title of ‘Mrs. Wickham.’ Engagements can be broken; marriage vows cannot. I am not proud of the makeshift joining, and neither should you be. Lydia shamed this family and ruined the prospects of her sisters, and I refuse to celebrate her depravity. That is my final word on the subject.”
And so, Mrs. Bennet grudgingly returned to her bed, rather than to assume her role as mistress of the manor.
“Sunday next would be the third calling of the banns,” Elizabeth explained for what felt the hundredth time. “Uncle meant to have the service on either the Monday or Tuesday following, as quickly as the vicar could accommodate Lydia and Mr. Wickham.” Elizabeth learned all the details of the arrangements from her father. Even though her mind told her Darcy would not come to Hertfordshire as he promised, Elizabeth pressed her father to know the day when her most feminine hopes would die.
“Would you like tea, Mama?” Mary asked.
“Yes, if you would so kind, and ask Mrs. Hill for a bit more of my tonic. I am feeling most anxious again.” Elizabeth turned away to
disguise a frown of disapproval; her mother’s growing dependence on laudanum could not play well in the family’s future.
While Mary absented herself to tend the “supposed” illness, Elizabeth distracted her mother with one of the fashion plates she brought specifically for Mrs. Bennet’s amusement. She realized early on Mrs. Bennet held little interest in anything beyond fashion and gossip.
“What do you think of this one, Mama?” Elizabeth placed the book of plates in her mother’s hands before she plumped the pillows to support Mrs. Bennet’s back. “A more fitted waist would accent both Jane’s and Kitty’s forms. Do you not think?”
Her mother studied the sketch of Town fashion before extrapolating upon which cloths would be required for the design, as well as holding a sensible discussion on which colors best served each of her daughters. Mrs. Bennet’s vast knowledge of such things took Elizabeth by surprise. Certainly, she heard her mother speak incessantly upon such matters in the past, but she never appreciated Mrs. Bennet’s expertise previously.
“The next time I require a new gown, I must seek your excellent advice,” Elizabeth said with a genuine smile.
In spite of her mother’s insensibility, Elizabeth understood that women of her mother’s generation held few opportunities to improve their minds. She was certain Grandfather Gardiner paid little attention to his two daughters, focusing his limited income and attentions upon his only son: Edward Gardiner. Aunt Phillips excelled where Mrs. Bennet never applied herself to books. Although both sisters loved gossip and entertaining, Mrs. Phillips followed her husband’s lead. Uncle Phillips always said a man who studied the law required a woman with sensibility
“I so wanted to oversee Lydia’s bride clothes,” her mother half whined. “I am certain my Sister Gardiner did not treat our dearest Lydia in the manner your sister should know as the wife of an officer in the Army.”
Elizabeth straightened the blanket across her mother’s lap.
“Jane and I gathered several items for Lydia when Mr. Gardiner sent word of locating her. Mr. Bingley generously agreed to permit one of his grooms to deliver the trunk to London.”
“Yet, Lydia would show better in a new clothes,” Mrs. Bennet protested.
Elizabeth patted the back of her mother’s hand.
“I am certain the Gardiners extended their best toward Lydia, and do not forget that Uncle Gardiner knows the brunt of the cost of the marriage settlements. Papa and my uncle assumed Mr. Wickham’s numerous gaming debts, as well as making Mr. Wickham a promise of one hundred pounds a year.”
It was a statement to her mother’s acceptance of Society’s preference to gentlemen that Mrs. Bennet never once expressed her disapproval of Mr. Wickham’s depravity: Mrs. Bennet thought it normal for Mr. Wickham to gamble away his future. Elizabeth withheld the mention of the expense of the commission purchased for Mr. Wickham, for she feared Mr. Darcy stood in honor in the matter. If so, her family owed the gentleman much.
“I know you do not approve of this marriage,” her mother asserted.
Elizabeth responded with sympathy for her mother’s aspirations for her daughters.
“I do not much care for Lydia’s manner in finding a husband; yet, that fact does not make me love my sister less.”
Mr. Bennet chose not to share with his wife Elizabeth’s deception or her active involvement in the search for Lydia. Otherwise, Mrs. Bennet would be insisting upon Mr. Darcy making a match with their second daughter. In some ways, Elizabeth would celebrate being forced to marry the gentleman, but she did not think it fair to burden Mr. Darcy with her family’s trials. It would not be fair punishment for the kindness Mr. Darcy showed her.
Their conversation came to an end when Mrs. Hill entered with a tea tray and a brown bottle containing a mixture of bilberry juice and laudanum.
“I will sit with your mother,” the family’s long time servant announced as she set the tray on a small table. “Once Mrs. Bennet has her tea, I will brush the mistress’s hair.” Elizabeth thought that a useless task if her mother was to return to sleep, but she knew Mrs. Hill’s kindness would please Mrs. Bennet. “Your father, Miss, asked me to send you to him if you be finished here.”
Elizabeth stood immediately: Perhaps her father held additional news on the marriage arrangements and the return of Mr. Darcy to London.
“Do you require anything else, Mama?”
Mrs. Bennet dismissed Elizabeth with a flick of her wrist.
“Mrs. Hill shall tend me well. When Mr. Bingley departs, send Jane up to sit with me.”
“I shall call again a bit later,” Elizabeth promised as she made her way to the door. “Rest well, Mama. This madness will soon know an end.”
Elizabeth found her father in his study.
“You sent for me?”
“Yes. Come in, Lizzy, and close the door behind you.” He appeared so grave that Elizabeth felt her heartbeat hitch higher.
“Has something amiss occurred?” Her father leaned heavily into his chair. A look of devastation crossed his features.
The underlying quiet in his tone stole Elizabeth’s breath when he said, “You should read your Uncle Gardiner’s latest message.” He gestured to an open letter upon his desk. Her father closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
As if the letter were a venomous viper prepared to strike, Elizabeth inched her closer to it. Catching it up, she read: The marriage must be postponed.
“How can this be?” she pleaded. “What brought upon such a change of circumstances?”
“Read the entire letter, Child,” her father instructed. “Just know Fate does not intend to be kind to the Bennets.”
Elizabeth shoved her growing panic aside and concentrated upon the letter.
I should have considered the cough Mr. Wickham presented during our interviews an indication of what was to come, but I took no note. On Monday last, Mr. Wickham called upon Lydia, as he has done every day since signing the marriage settlement. Although I do not care for the man’s morals, I did appreciate how he embraced our agreement. He appeared to accept his future with good grace. Unfortunately though, we may never see the fruits of our negotiations for Mr. W took quite ill. In truth, since Elizabeth’s departure for Longbourn, a measles outbreak claimed St. Clement’s parish. Without knowing of the spread of the disease, Mr. W came for supper and never departed: Mrs. G. attends him in one of the bedrooms above stairs. He called upon Lydia, but was too ill to leave.
Worse still, either Mr. Wickham or I carried this illness to Gracechurch Street. Two of the children are ill, as are several of my servants and workers. Needless to say, my employees could have come into contact with the illness elsewhere, but I feel personally responsible.
All that being said, Mrs. G is doing all she can to tend both Mr. W and our children. It will not surprise you, I am certain, to learn Lydia, although not in danger of knowing the illness for she experienced the disease as a child of four, is of little use to Margaret. Lydia is more concerned with whether the measles pustules will leave scars upon Mr. Wickham’s cheeks and chin than she is the real possibility the man could die from the fever or the cough. I fear my niece does not understand the danger of the illness to adults, especially to males.
That brings me to the crux of this letter. Margaret is near exhaustion from her nursing duties. As four of my servants also succumbed to the illness, our house is an infirmary and my wife the chief caretaker. If it would not be an imposition, Brother, would you permit Elizabeth and Mary to come to us? Along with Lydia, Lizzy and Mary knew the disease when measles swept through Meryton some twelve years past. I believe both girls would be of great assistance to my dear wife. Hopefully, if we practice cleanliness and diligence, the disease will run its course within a month, and all should be well once more. It is imperative that we see Mr. Wickham to health. Heaven forbid the man should fall victim to his infection before he speaks his vows to Lydia.
E. Gardiner
“Oh, Papa!” Elizabeth exclaimed when she finished read
ing. “Will this farce never know a final curtain?”
“As you were long removed from London and Mr. Wickham, I assume you did not carry the disease to Longbourn.”
“From what I know of the disease from Mama’s cousin, it shows itself within ten days to two weeks,” Elizabeth assured. “I have been at Longbourn for over a fortnight, and while in London, I did not meet with Mr. Wickham. Only with Lydia.”
Her father rolled his eyes heavenward.
“Mrs. Bennet will not take well the news of further isolation from her Sister Phillips,” he said in mocked sincerity.
“I am most grateful you prevented Mama from announcing Lydia’s engagement to the village,” Elizabeth observed. “This situation will be a disaster if Mr. Wickham does not recover.” After a brief pause, she asked, “Will you permit me and Mary to assist Aunt Gardiner?”
Mr. Bennet steepled his fingers upon his abdomen before answering,
“After all your uncle did to bring about a solution to this situation, I would not think to deny him. You will leave in the morning. While you explain the changes in this situation to Mary, Jane, and Kitty, I will attempt to reason with your mother.”
“Mrs. Bennet knows her tonic,” Elizabeth explained.
“A small blessing,” her father said as he stood to straighten his waistcoat. “If I am truly fortunate, Mrs. Bennet’s lack of understanding will be attributed to her overuse of the opiate rather than her customary insensibility.”
* * *
“Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Wickham murmured. When she and Mary arrived at Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth sent her aunt to bed for a much needed rest. Tending to Mr. Wickham profoundly upset Mary’s sense of propriety; therefore, Elizabeth insisted that Mary nurse the two ill Gardiner children while she saw to the gentleman. “How blessed I am!”
Elizabeth bathed his fevered brow with lavender water.
“You may not think so once you encounter my less than maternal touch,” she warned. Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth examined his once handsome face, now sporting patches of red scabs. It was uncharitable of her to think Mr. Wickham might have turned out better if God did not give the man a pleasing countenance.
Elizabeth Bennet's Deception: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary Page 9