by A V Knight
“Yours, dear lady, etc., etc.”
Charlotte ought to say she spent the rest of the afternoon mulling on the offer Mr. Collins had once again implied. She ought to say she was overjoyed at finally securing Lady Catherine’s approval to marry, even under such dubious circumstances as the Bennet family’s reduction in her opinion instead of approval for Charlotte’s own behavior.
But she did not.
Instead, Charlotte refolded the letter and tucked it into her pocketbook. She contemplated taking it to the kitchen fire and doing away with any trace of it, but she was not so given to flights of drama as that. Letters should be kept as long as they might be needed, and in case Mr. Collins really did appear at Longbourn, Charlotte might need the tangible reminder about precisely the sort of man she had once decided to marry.
Before Lydia’s elopement, Charlotte’s options had been to remain alone in her father’s house or to choose Mr. Collins. But now, her options were between a life with Lizzy or enduring Mr. Collins’ simpering, misplaced pride and having every decision she made for the rest of her days be subject to Lady Catherine. It was the choice to spend all the decades of her life as an unruly child beside a husband who didn’t see the offense of valuing her second. Charlotte could understand the logic of preserving his position by abiding by patroness’ opinion on the matter, but now it was an insult too grievous to be born. To choose between Lizzy and Mr. Collins was no choice at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The post the next day brought a letter from Mr. Gardiner that inspired no small amount of concern. Wickham had no relationships upon which they could rely for more information, which they had assumed was the case. Worse still was the state of his finances, which gave their own powerful motive for secrecy. Not even Mrs. Bennet at her most dramatic could have guessed the degree to which Mr. Wickham owed. Colonel Forster believed that more than a thousand pounds would be necessary to clear the man at Brighton, with a good deal more owed in town, and an unknown amount in Meryton. Charlotte could scarcely imagine where a man with no home, no family, and few expenses could have spent such an amount. Mr. Gardiner did not attempt to conceal these particulars from the Longbourn family, and though Charlotte herself might have been more circumspect about which of the family members she permitted to know the information, in the least she could appreciate that they were not being forced to parse through vague implications to discover the truth.
The only relieving bit of information was that, barring any complications, Mr. Bennet was due to return home the next day. Rendered spiritless by the ill-success of all their endeavors, he had yielded to his brother-in-law’s entreaty that he would return to his family and leave it to him to do whatever occasion might suggest as advisable for continuing their pursuit.
When Mrs. Bennet was told of this, she did not express so much satisfaction as her children expected considering how her anxiety had been for his life before. “What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?” she cried. “Sure he will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her if he comes away?”
Not even sweet Jane attempted to reason with her mother on this front, for it was useless. Mrs. Bennet seemed to have decided upon the romantic notion that a duel would somehow restore Lydia’s honor.
As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home—and Charlotte could not blame her—it was settled that she and the children should go to London at the same time that Mr. Bennet came from it. The coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their journey and brought its master back to Longbourn. Though she was anxious to be away, Mrs. Gardiner still left Longbourn with some hesitation. There were several times when Charlotte thought she saw the lady pause, as though she wanted to entrust some particular task to Charlotte beyond the support she was already providing to the Bennet family. But each time circumstances found them alone, Mrs. Gardiner chose some other topic of discussion. Charlotte supposed that something must have happened on the journey through Kent that Elizabeth had not yet had the opportunity or inclination to share, but she had not the least notion of what it was.
When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual philosophic composure. He said as little as had ever been his habit and made no mention of the business that had taken him away. It was some time before his daughters had the courage to speak of it. Charlotte rather occupied herself with something in the kitchen while the family overcame their discomfiture, trusting that any information he conveyed to them, Elizabeth would in turn relay to her. In the end, the only information Mr. Bennet brought home was his certainty that Lydia must be in London, for she could not be concealed so well anyplace else. He then threatened to require that in the future all his daughters would not be allowed to stir out of doors until they proved they had spent ten minutes of every day in a rational manner. Kitty had taken him seriously and thrown herself from the room in a torrent of tears. After Mary’s compliments to her father on such a wise decision, the man had left with all the same spectacle as his daughter, though drier-eyed.
It took another two days of silence for an express to arrive from Mr. Gardiner. The three eldest girls had been on a small turn about the shrubbery, Elizabeth trying to get Jane to at least complain about her mother’s behavior and Charlotte trying to get Elizabeth to confide about whatever had happened in Kent to cause Mrs. Gardiner such concern. Rather than hear from the man himself, the housekeeper informed them that Mr. Bennet had received a letter.
Eventually, they found the man heading towards the small wood on one side of the paddock. Elizabeth paid no heed to her father’s obvious desire for solitude and demanded to know: “Oh, papa, what news—what news? Have you heard from my uncle?”
“Yes, I have had a letter from him by express.”
“Well, and what news does it bring—good or bad?”
“What is there of good to be expected?” said he, taking the letter from his pocket. “But perhaps you would like to read it.”
Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand and he bade her read it aloud for them all, “for I hardly know myself what it is about.”
“MY DEAR BROTHER,
“At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such as, upon the whole, I hope it will give you satisfaction. Soon after you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what part of London they were. The particulars I reserve till we meet, it is enough to know they are discovered. I have seen them both—”
“Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane. “They are married!” There was no triumph in her voice, only joy.
Elizabeth read on:
“I have seen them both. They are not married, nor can I find there was any intention of their being so, but if you are willing to perform the engagements that I have ventured to make on your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is required of you is to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her equal share of the five thousand pounds secured among your children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and, moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions which, considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying with, as far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer.
“You will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham’s circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to be. The world has been deceived in that respect and I am happy to say there will be some little money, even when all his debts are discharged, to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune. If, as I conclude will be the case, you send me full powers to act in your name throughout the whole of this business, I will immediately give directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper settlement.
“There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming to town again, therefore stay quiet at Longbourn and depend on my diligence and care. Send back your answer as fast a
s you can, and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best that my niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will approve. She comes to us today. I shall write again as soon as anything more is determined on. Yours, etc.,
“EDW. GARDINER.”
“Is it possible?” cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. “Can it be possible that he will marry her?”
“Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we thought him,” said her sister. “My dear father, I congratulate you.”
“And have you answered the letter?” cried Elizabeth.
“No, but it must be done soon.”
“Oh! My dear father,” Elizabeth cried, “come back and write immediately. Consider how important every moment is in such a case.”
“Let me write for you,” said Jane, “if you dislike the trouble yourself.”
“I dislike it very much,” he replied, “but it must be done.”
And so saying, he turned back with them and walked towards the house.
“And may I ask—” said Elizabeth hard on his heels. “But the terms, I suppose, must be complied with.”
“Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.” Mr. Bennet grumbled and Charlotte was not entirely sure that he was joking.
“And they must marry! Yet he is such a man!”
“Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there are two things that I want very much to know: one is, how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how am I ever to pay him.”
“Money! My uncle!” cried Jane, “what do you mean, sir?”
“I mean, that no man in his senses would marry Lydia on so slight a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am gone.”
“That is very true,” said Elizabeth, “though it had not occurred to me before. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh! It must be my uncle’s doing! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.”
“No,” said Mr. Bennet with a quick glance towards Charlotte. She didn’t think the sisters ought to know and her face said as much, but Mr. Bennet proceeded anyway. “Wickham’s a fool if he takes her for a farthing less than ten thousand pounds. I should be sorry to think so ill of him, at the very beginning of our relationship.”
“Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be repaid?” It could not, and in truth, Charlotte could barely imagine how Mr. Gardiner had managed to produce the amount or why Mr. Wickham had been foolish enough to demand it. He must have known it would be beyond Mr. Bennet’s means and beyond all reasonable assumption that Mr. Gardiner would provide it. And yet, Mr. Wickham had not only asked for such an extravagant sum, but had received it.
Mr. Bennet made no answer to Elizabeth and invited no further questions. Each of them, deep in thought, continued silent until they reached the house. Mr. Bennet went on to the library to write what would no doubt be a humiliating letter, and the girls retired to the breakfast room.
“And they are really to be married!” cried Elizabeth. “How strange this is! And for this, we are to be thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice. Oh, Lydia! Despite having brought this on herself not even she deserves such a husband.”
“I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, “that he certainly would not marry Lydia if he had not a real regard for her.”
“Ten thousand pounds may do much towards improving a man’s opinion about any young lady.” Charlotte pointed out.
“Young men of little fortune cannot marry where they like, so I like to believe that he would have married Lydia if he had had the means to do so, and now Uncle has provided him with such. Though I cannot believe that ten thousand pounds, or anything like it, has been advanced. He has children of his own and may have more. How could he spare half ten thousand pounds?”
“If he were ever able to learn what Wickham’s debts have been,” said Elizabeth, “and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shall exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them because Wickham has not sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be requited. Their taking her home and affording her their personal protection and countenance is such a sacrifice to her advantage as years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she is actually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now, she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when she first sees my aunt!”
Charlotte watched Elizabeth with careful eyes and believed she truly had no notion about how difficult such an amount would have been for her uncle to manage. Charlotte did not know what a house in town might cost, but she was well acquainted with her father’s income and the expense of a house in Meryton. Unless Mr. Gardiner had means he had never told Mrs. Bennet about in order to keep her from speaking of it to all the neighborhood, such a bestowal on Lydia would likely involve every speck the man had set aside for his own children. No matter how generous an act, it was disinterested to the point of foolishness, which Charlotte had considered beyond Mr. Gardiner.
“We must endeavor to forget all that has passed on either side,” said Jane. “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten.”
“Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, “as neither you, nor I, nor anybody can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.”
“Nor will they have any inclination to change when they have been so rewarded for their impudence. Lydia behaved dishonorably, compromised her virtue, and is now married to the pride of the regiment. Wickham stole that virtue and now all his debts are forgiven. They are both of them so charming that no one will forget what they have done, but likewise, most will not care. It has worked out perfectly for her.”
With every word, more bite slipped into Charlotte’s voice. “Would you rather Lydia be left a dishonored woman subject to a lifetime of scorn?” Elizabeth asked.
“Of course not. And I cannot begin to imagine how she might be punished at all without ruining the rest of you. I simply…” Charlotte could not name the sensation burning in her breast. She wanted to call it simple frustration, but it stung too much for an emotion she knew so well. She might call it heartbroken, but the choking in her throat wasn’t sobs, it was the urge to scream.
Of course things had worked out perfectly for Lydia. Of course the pretty young girl who had broken all the rules would end up married to the man she wanted, with enough money between them that if they displayed any sense about their spending they might be able to create a good life for themselves. She was trapped with Wickham, yes, a man that any woman who had been fully informed about his vile behavior would refuse to marry, but Lydia had never had much for common sense and Charlotte doubted it would spring upon her now. Wickham was handsome and charming, which would be enough for Lydia to be proud of, and that pride was enough for her to be happy. Lydia had broken a thousand rules and would be rewarded with the man of her dreams and Charlotte didn’t know if she wanted to sob or to scream.
“I am tired,” Charlotte finally finished. “If you will excuse me, now that the matter is finally settled I believe I will return home and spend the day with my sisters. I have sorely neglected them of late.”
Charlotte was tempted to add that she better than ever saw the danger of such neglect, but she would regret her spite tomorrow. Already Lizzy was rising to her feet to stop Charlotte from leaving when she was so obviously out of sorts. Elizabeth’s voice chased her outside until Charlotte slipped off the lane and made her way home on a path Lizzy could not follow. Better still, the lack of road would justify all the extra time it might take Charlotte to find her way ho
me, time she would spend breathing away the desire to crumble to her knees.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
By the time Charlotte collected herself enough to return home, Mrs. Bennet had been and gone, leaving behind Lydia’s good fortune in her wake. The Lucas family was overjoyed for the Bennets and Charlotte supposed she ought to be grateful it never crossed any of their minds to be melancholy on her behalf.
It was through her mother that Charlotte discovered Lydia had been married in town and the newlyweds were to be welcomed at Longbourn. Apparently, friends had paid for Mr. Wickham’s commission in the Newcastle militia and attended the wedding with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. The couple was stopping by to pay their respects on their way north. Charlotte was not much concerned by the particulars. They had been married, and that was all Charlotte could stomach.
The newlyweds’ arrival there came many invitations to Longbourn so Mrs. Bennet could lord the young lovers over her neighbors. Though the entire Lucas family was invited, only Sir and Lady Lucas attended. Charlotte’s mother and father were kind enough friends to feign some reason why their newly out in society daughters could not come and their other children had to be left in Charlotte’s care. Everyone with sense understood that even the Lucases did not want their daughters tainted by further association with Lydia or their sons infected with Wickham’s poor behavior. Thankfully, Mrs. Bennet seemed to miss the deliberate protection, though Sir Lucas reported to Charlotte that virtually everyone but the bride herself seemed to understand the slight.
He assured Charlotte that he had rather loudly declared that when the Bennet family’s company was gone and it was no longer a bother his daughters would be anxious to see their friends again. It was a rather charming way of informing Meryton that Sir Lucas had no problem with the rest of the Bennets, which spared the family some of the disgrace Lydia had brought to their door.