Miss Lucas

by A V Knight

  Maria and Henrietta were both so thrilled at the sudden introduction to society that Charlotte was rather ashamed she hadn’t thought of it before. The girls spent extra hours preparing for the next party, each asking a hundred questions about how this one would be different, what new might be expected of them, and whether they ought to change their hair or get new dresses now that they were no longer girls. Charlotte was not the best in terms of fashion, but she paid enough attention to advise her sisters in matters that would keep them from doing anything ridiculous in the manner of some of the neighborhood’s other young ladies.

  Charlotte warned her sisters against paying too much attention to any of the officers considering their soon departure without any special concern to Mr. Wickham. It was the nature of people to be curious about what they had been cautioned about and Charlotte was sure Mr. Wickham would avail himself of whatever attention the girls paid him. When the militia left they took with them no small amount of the spectacle that had infected Meryton and Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief that matters had become much less complicated.

  Small though the options were, Maria and Henrietta seemed to far prefer the few young men whose families and reputations they knew instead of the slew of soldiers who they did not. It was common sense from her sisters, and Charlotte made certain they knew how proud she was of them for their discernment. With the neighborhood no longer infested with soldiers, it was a relatively easy transition for the girls to make into society, simply being invited to more parties and facing down the encroaching young men side by side. The greatest difficulty in the task was convincing their father to make things official when he was too concerned for them all to consider it a wise choice. But Charlotte’s sisters trusted her to make slow but steady progress in bringing their father around.

  And so the ensuing months went. Elizabeth came to bid Charlotte farewell before she went traveling with her aunt and uncle Gardiner, even going so far as to ask Charlotte if she would like to come along and take a break from the influx of visiting she had been enduring on behalf of her sisters. It was kindly meant, even though they both knew that Elizabeth was safe in making the offer since Charlotte would never be so rude as to accept.

  On her darker days, Charlotte suspected that this was good practice for the life she ought to resign herself to occupying. After all, she would be partly dependent upon the goodwill of these young men and would likely spend no small part of her future life shuffling between their houses and Lucas Lodge in the care of her brother, William. She did not think so poorly of herself as to suppose that she might point her sisters in the direction of the brother-in-law she preferred over their own interests, but that her future life depended upon her sisters’ choice was a rather sobering thought. It was a situation that could not be resolved by running off to the Lake District, no matter what a relief it might have been.

  It was strange, but being relieved of the burden of searching for a husband due to the pure impossibility of it altered Charlotte’s relationship with her sisters. Perhaps things would have been different if they had always been in society with one another, but Charlotte suspected that part of the improvement was due to the utter lack of concern she now had about her own prospects. She liked to think that they never would have been in competition over potential spouses, but there was a comforting certainty that now they never would be.

  As much as Charlotte regretted that she had not altered their relationship in this way long before, she could admit it was better this way. A year ago she would not have given them such foolishly romantic counsel about how to achieve a husband, but she had learned her lesson. There was still plenty to be said for concession, but as Lizzy had said, they both would have been better served with a little more compromise in Lizzy and a little less in Charlotte, and perhaps Charlotte could teach her sisters to find that balance.

  On one night in particular, at a dance where no young man of the neighborhood bothered to exchange pleasantries with Charlotte let alone ask her to dance, Charlotte found herself quite unaccountably smiling. It seemed that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been right in his assumption that she was a governess, only he had been a few months premature. Her time in charge of her sisters was significantly less worrying than being in charge of Mary, but nonetheless, it had turned out to be good practice.

  There was a brief moment where Mrs. Phillips and Mrs. Bennet had a conversation about the unfortunate state of Charlotte’s existence while they were seated scarcely a chair away from her, as though the slight separation of wood would be enough to conceal their voices. While Jane had been slighted in love and Elizabeth had refused Mr. Collins, it seemed important to both mother and aunt that they had had the opportunity for such disappointments. They were not the only women to comment on Charlotte’s disappointing resignation to spinsterhood, but they were certainly the most brazen. Unfortunately for any resident of Meryton who murmured their condolences expecting some sign of misery from Charlotte, she was well.

  Charlotte was beginning to think that perhaps she could be happy like this, shepherding her sisters, tending to their children, and being of use. It wasn’t a home of her own, but it was something that she did not loathe as much as she had always feared she would. This was a life she could endure without hatred.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It was a quite typical summer morning when Mary Bennet arrived at Lucas Lodge in the middle of their meal and what was likely before the Bennet family’s breakfast. The pleasantness of seeing her lasted barely a moment before Mary insisted that Charlotte come with her to Longbourn this very moment. Contrary to her natural impulse, Charlotte went along without a single complaint, mentally preparing a speech to remind Mary about the benefits of politeness even when there was something you wanted. However, Charlotte didn’t get out a word. Mary had the sense to at least wait until they made it a few steps away from the house’s closed door before she declared, “Lydia has run off with Mr. Wickham.”

  Charlotte stumbled to a stop. “She’s what?”

  “Despite vehement protests from Jane and Elizabeth, as well as my own well-reasoned arguments about the damage Lydia would no doubt do to her own reputation as well as to our family’s, Lydia was allowed to go to Brighton with no one but Mrs. Forster to supervise her. Despite Colonel Forster’s good standing in the neighborhood, I argued that he cannot be as commonsensical as father believes him to be because he was foolish enough to marry a woman like Mrs. Forster and neither of them should be trusted with a girl like Lydia. Father, however, was unmoved.”

  “Mary, I believe we would be better served for you tell me what is happening now instead of how Lydia ended up at Brighton.” Particularly since Charlotte had been fully informed about the drama of Lydia’s departure as it unfolded.

  “Late last night an express arrived from Colonel Forster. He informed our father that Lydia had gone off to Scotland with Mr. Wickham. According to the letter, Colonel Forster believes they were off about twelve on Saturday night, though nothing was discovered until yesterday morning at eight. He sent the express off directly. Colonel Forster suggested that he would be hard on the heels of the express to tell us more detail and to bring along a letter that Lydia left for Mrs. Forster. Father went straight to his library and hasn’t come out since. We have been taking care of Mother, who went back to bed last night but has not slept. I have been attempting to console mother about how we might stem the tide of malice by relying more upon one another, and how Lydia’s unhappy marriage might refine the loose way in which so many of us have behaved.”

  “I presume your mother was not very soothed by such counsel?”

  “She did mention that I was not helping her poor nerves.”

  On the walk to Longbourn, Charlotte endured Mary’s thoughts about all the ways this might improve their family now that Lydia had lost her virtue. If Mary had paid so little attention to the world around her that she did not realize that this might be the ruin of her entire family, Charlotte would not take up the burden of ex
plaining it to her. Speed and silence were their best allies now. Even if by some miracle Wickham actually intended to marry Lydia, the rest of them would be hard pressed to find a man of breeding who would have them for the dishonor. And if Lydia was not married, which Charlotte considered more likely than the alternative, then there was not a single Bennet girl who would ever become a wife. Already they were fighting with nothing but their charm to recommend them to suitors, but charm was easily outweighed when a wife would not be fit for polite company.

  This was a harsh reality that Jane, at least, seemed to understand. While Kitty lounged in the sitting room as though there was nothing different about this day than yesterday, poor Jane met them at the door looking as though she hadn’t slept a wink. Mary and Kitty were both sent to check on their mother in the foolish hope that one’s stoicism might temper the other’s justifiable dramatics, but Charlotte was certain it would end in more tears.

  “I suppose it’s too much to hope that Mary was mistaken about Lydia running off with Mr. Wickham?”

  “It is indeed. I am very, very sorry about it. It is such an imprudent match on both sides. I cannot think how they intend to support themselves or that Lydia is genuinely prepared to handle a house of her own, especially in such unique circumstances as those of a militia. But I am willing to hope the best for them. He has been thoughtless and indiscreet, but perhaps his character has in some way been misunderstood and that in matters such as these he might be better than Mr. Darcy’s explanation of him would suggest. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing. I can only assume that he ran away with her out of genuine affection. Reckless though they both have been, he must love her. There can be no other cause for such actions.”

  Given all they knew about Mr. Wickham, Charlotte considered such a hope perhaps even more reckless than Lydia’s own behavior. Mr. Wickham had been willing to all but abduct the fifteen-year-old sister of a man with enough money and influence to have Wickham ruined. That would have been the kinder future since Charlotte was almost certain that Colonel Fitzwilliam would have had no compunction about shooting Wickham so Miss Georgiana might bear the pains of a window rather than those of a mistreated wife. If Mr. Wickham had managed to avoid any repercussions for his actions after so terrible an attempt on so well protected a young lady, he would no doubt consider himself immune if he should strip Lydia of her virtue and her family of their honor. The Bennets certainly had none of the clout that Mr. Darcy could wield and Mr. Wickham had no cause for restraint.

  “Have you written to Elizabeth?” For all that Jane likely knew every detail of Mr. Wickham’s prior behavior, she didn’t have the temperament to confront the harsh reality of what was waiting for her family on the other side of this affair.

  “I wrote to Lizzy this morning and sent the letter off as quickly as possible. I am certain that Lizzy will come home to us as soon as she reads it. No doubt she will also bring along my aunt and uncle, whose presence would be of the greatest relief to me. Oh Charlotte, our poor mother is sadly grieved about this whole matter. My father bears it better, but in this instance I am afraid that better means only that he is not abed. How thankful I am that we chose not to let anyone know the particulars of what has been said against Mr. Wickham, for I cannot imagine how worse they each would be if they knew the depths of the accusations against him. We must now forget those charges ourselves and treat him with all the respect we would show a brother.”

  Charlotte had never quite been able to tell when Jane was simply being too kind for common sense and when she was attempting to imply something. “Did you call me here this morning to ask me to keep quiet about Mr. Wickham’s bad behavior in the past?”

  Jane’s eyes widened. “No! My dear Charlotte, of course not! You have been one of the best friends our family could ever ask for and you are completely deserving of our trust, even in matters such as these, especially in matters such as these. I am sorry about pulling you from your home so early in the day but I confess that I am at a loss what to do in these circumstances. Mother refuses to be consoled on any aspect of Lydia’s elopement and I am concerned for father. He hasn’t left his study since we received the letter, hasn’t written to my Uncle Gardiner, Uncle Phillips, or even Colonel Forster. I’m afraid that I don’t know what to do. Mother I know how to handle, but father… I feel as though I’m shouldering his responsibility as well as my own and I do not know what even might be done for Lydia, let alone should.”

  Charlotte gave Jane the same hug she would have given her own sisters in such times. When she was buoyed up, Jane handed over the letter from Colonel Forster so Charlotte wouldn’t be forced to rely on their interpretation of his words. It read as follows:

  Mr. Bennet,

  Forgive me, for I have no means by which I might share this information with you in some manner which might be less alarming. Your daughter Lydia has gone to Scotland with a man of my regiment, Lieutenant Wickham. Neither party was missed until this morning at eight o’clock when my own wife went to inquire after Lydia. Lydia left a note for my wife informing us of her intention to go to Gretna Green so she might elope with Lieutenant Wickham. I intend to question Wickham’s associates and then depart for your home immediately. It is my hope that when I arrive I will do so with your daughter.

  Sincerely,

  COLONEL FORSTER

  Charlotte cast her shawl over a nearby chair and bid Jane return to her mother and keep the woman as consoled as she could manage. If at all possible, the servants should be kept from any knowledge on the subject of Lydia’s potential elopement, though Charlotte was quite certain that cause was already lost. She instructed Jane to simply do her best in that regard, for privacy on any piece of information could only be their friend.

  Charlotte, however, steeled her spine and without waiting for permission after her brisk knock, stepped into Mr. Bennet’s study. The patriarch of so many daughters was slouched behind his desk, his chair turned to face the windows where he made no motion to acknowledge her arrival. White stubble adorned his cheeks and his eyes were hooded down under the burden of a sleepless night spent crumbled in his stiff-backed chair. A breakfast tray sat untouched on his desk and it wasn’t until Charlotte settled herself across from him without removing the tray that Mr. Bennet realized she wasn’t Jane.

  “Tell me Charlotte, why do you think he did it? Jane keeps trying to convince me that it must be love, but you and I are too practical for such a notion.”

  For all that Charlotte thought the family ruined, it was quite a different matter to say those words to the father who had let his youngest daughter traipse off to Brighton with the man who would be their demise. “There is a chance that he will marry her.”

  “If you’re going to speak nonsense to me then go upstairs and join the moaning.”

  Charlotte couldn’t tell him that she thought it was because of Lizzy. That was the only reason Charlotte could imagine Wickham would take such a risk with a young lady who, although certainly not as well protected as others, was not alone in the world or friendless. Running off with Lydia was reckless in the extreme, even for a man whose bread and butter was relying on his charm and the sympathy of others towards a gentleman who had been slighted by his betters. No doubt he planned on relating this story in the future as being refused because his love’s family disapproved of him for his failed connections. Charlotte could scarcely imagine how many dinner invitations Mr. Wickham would gain thanks to the tragic addition of a failed romance to his life story.

  Elizabeth was the only reason so astute a man might choose Lydia. Whatever charms Lydia might have, they were vastly outweighed by risks. If the man had any sense at all—which he must to have been able to perpetuate such a fraud before and come through so nearly unscathed—he would know that the Bennets would have no capacity for keeping such a thing secret in the way Mr. Darcy did. They lacked the funds to bribe people into silence and Mrs. Bennet had never kept a mournful story to herself in he
r life. This meant the word would spread, and his ability to do such a thing again might be hampered.

  However, in Wickham’s eyes that risk could only be outweighed by the certainty that in taking Lydia’s honor he was ruining Elizabeth’s as well. Whether it was a matter that if Mr. Wickham could not have her then no one could or if it was simple petulance for Elizabeth’s rejection of him after she had learned the truth from Mr. Darcy, Charlotte couldn’t guess.

  While Charlotte did not have the world’s highest opinion of Mr. Bennet’s parenting abilities, this was not the sort of thing the man deserved to hear on this particular day. It would do none of them any good and Charlotte couldn’t envision ever losing her temper so completely that she would share such suspicions with Elizabeth. And so, Charlotte lied.

  “While under other circumstances it might be nonsense, in these I do not think it is entirely. Mr. Wickham is reckless, but he’s not stupid. He’s managed to conceal his character from the whole of Meryton, every young lady of his acquaintance, his fellow soldiers, and his commanding officer. A man clever enough to keep such a nefarious nature from so many people is not foolish enough to do something that would permanently ruin his chances at a career and that will so damage the fellows that he left behind.”

  “You think the other soldiers didn’t know of this?”

  “If they knew, then they must have believed he was doing it for love. Wickham’s career in the ----shire regiment won’t survive this, and if he doesn’t marry Lydia then I would be surprised if the careers of Wickham’s friends will survive it either.”