Wedding at Pemberley

by Florence Gold

  Elizabeth looked at her as though she had arrived from another reality. Was it possible – Elizabeth thought − to be so insensitive as not to see the distress one had caused to an entire family?

  She wanted to scold her, but in the end, she was happy Lydia was out of danger. At least the threat of being alone in London or with a malevolent man was over.

  “I see you are in a good disposition, Lydia. Come, let us go inside – there is no need for the entire street to hear us,” she said grabbing her sister’s arm rather in haste, just to watch their father walking behind them, slowly, with apparent tiredness.

  Once in the house, Lydia continued to chat joyfully, with no remorse and no worry.

  “We were so shocked to see Mr Darcy and papa! We did not even awaken so early, can you imagine? Oh, and papa said I should not marry George. What a joke! I love him dearly, and I wish for nothing but to marry him! I care for nothing else but him!”

  “Then you will have your wish achieved, young lady,” Mr Bennet replied, sitting on an armchair and asking for a drink.

  “Lydia, are you hungry?” Mrs Gardiner asked.

  “Yes, very hungry! We barely eat at all! And I must sleep, as I did not sleep much either,” she laughed, and Mrs Gardiner scolded her with a stern look.

  “Oh, do not look so serious, aunt. I am engaged to be married soon! I am not a child any longer.”

  “So do you insist on marrying Wickham?” Mr Bennet inquired.

  “Of course, I do!”

  “Very well. Be it as you like. But you shall not come to me and complain about your husband. Your reckless behaviour is entirely my fault; I shall not deny that. This is why I am willing to take you home and bear the shame of your elopement. I prefer to protect you from a lifetime of suffering.”

  It was almost unreal, on one side Lydia so happy to be married as if she had been adequately asked, and on the other hand a whole family that was suffering from her deeds. Between them was a wall, and Elizabeth could not but ask herself how it was possible to have a sister like her. They had the same parents and education, yet she was not at all happy in these moments to be related to Lydia. It was not only the elopement, but also more than two weeks of worries on her parents’ side, the effort Darcy and Mr Bingley made to find them and, instead of coming back to apologise, she seemed to consider herself a heroine who just achieved her most significant victory.

  “I will never leave George!” she cried, confirming Lizzy’s state of mind − her sister was a thoughtless person.

  “Yes, I understand that,” Elizabeth said with the coldest voice possible, “you refuse to see reason and you reject any advice coming from papa, as well as from the man who generously took the trouble of finding you.”

  Lydia stood up from the chair, smiling.

  “Mr Darcy? He hates George – we all know that! He does not want us to be happy!”

  “But how will you live? Where will you marry? I suspect Mr Wickham cannot return to his regiment – what will he do? What will you do?” Mrs Gardiner asked.

  “I need nothing else but to be with him!” Lydia said.

  All other persons in the room had the same worried look; it seemed the ordeal was not over, at least not for them as Lydia was in heaven.

  “Very well, then. We will discuss more of this later. Let us go upstairs and find you something to change into and we will ask for some food. Excuse us, gentlemen,” Mrs Gardiner said.

  ∞∞∞

  “She is not even sixteen yet,” Mr Bennet whispered.

  “Papa…” Elizabeth gently sat near him and touched his arm. “May I ask where you found them?”

  “Mr Darcy did. In an Inn run by a certain Mrs Younge,” Mr Gardiner answered.

  “So fortunate that Mr Darcy had such a close knowledge of Wickham’s acquaintances.”

  “Indeed, Lizzy – quite fortunate. I am not sure when we would have found them by ourselves.”

  “And… what will happen now?”

  “Now? We are negotiating the bribe for marrying your sister with Wickham,” Mr Bennet replied bitterly. “He shared his demands and we will see what and how we can pay.”

  Elizabeth looked at him in a state of horror, “Papa, what are you saying?”

  But in her father’s defeated attitude, she saw it was true.

  “This is the truth, Lizzy. He first pretended he wished nothing more than what rightfully belongs to Lydia. Then he mentioned he will need another living, another commission somewhere. He mentioned he has quite a sum of gaming debts that made him leave Brighton. I suspect the sum will go over five thousand pounds.”

  “Five thousand? In Lord’s name, how could you afford to pay such an amount?” Elizabeth said, glancing at her uncle incredulously.

  “Oh, yes, I forgot. A Special License will be needed if we want them to marry in haste. Sadly, I cannot afford to apply for one, so…”

  Elizabeth turned paler, while her father’s voice went down, barely audible.

  “Come, brother – do not despair. We will find a way,” Mr Gardiner interjected. “We are family and we will help each other.”

  “By no means, I will not allow you to spend so much money to buy my daughter’s unhappiness, even if you had it,” Mr Bennet answered.

  “Let us wait until tomorrow; we will see the list of creditors, we will discuss more and see what can be done.”

  Elizabeth could feel her uncle was not more at peace. The situation seemed helpless, and from upstairs, Lydia’s voice sounded careless.

  “I will go to my room now,” Mr Bennet declared. He seemed suddenly older, his back and shoulders slumped down. While he exited, Mrs Gardiner arrived, informing them that Lydia ate, was now taking a bath and would sleep for a while. Mr Bennet nodded and stepped forward, wordlessly.

  “What should we do?” Elizabeth whispered, looking at her uncle and aunt, desperate and grieved.

  “Everything we can, my dear,” her uncle replied, with a worried glance to his wife.

  ∞∞∞

  Despite being relieved to see Lydia unharmed, the day turned more and more tormenting in Gracechurch Street. No solution seemed reasonable, nor achievable; opposite to their worry, Lydia insisted on how happy she was to marry the man she loved.

  After another sleepless night, the morning brought the light, but no peace. Lydia slept late − just as was her habit at Longbourn. No worry troubled her rest.

  The gentlemen wondered what they should do. It was decided to wait for another note from Darcy, so they could meet Wickham again and complete the agreement.

  After breakfast, they had already lost their patience. It took several more hours until Bingley himself arrived unexpectedly. He was alone – much to Elizabeth’s disappointment.

  “Mr Bennet, I have a letter for you. From Darcy. I took the liberty of delivering it myself, as I would also like to ask for the favour of a private meeting, whenever is convenient for you,” Bingley said with unusual nervousness.

  “Private meeting? With me? Dear Lord, I hope nothing else has happened,” Mr Bennet replied, trying to open the letter.

  “No, sir. It is on the same subject we discussed when we arrived in London.”

  Mr Bennet became so pale that Bingley had to add in haste forgetting the privacy he had asked for, “No… sir… what do you think I am asking you? I just want to move up… sooner… our ceremony…”

  Mr Bennet finally looked at the young man with a warm look, then exchanged a quick glance with his Elizabeth.

  “I see. Is my daughter Jane aware of the subject of this conversation?”

  Bingley’s face coloured and he nodded. “She was. But then this situation with Miss Lydia occurred and… As I said, there is no urgency. Whenever it is convenient for you.”

  Mr Bennet put the letter down and inquired in an affectionate tone. “Mr Bingley, are you sure you wish to have this conversation with me now? Perhaps it would be better to wait for a while.”

  “Sir… if you will permit me, why wait?” Bi
ngley appeared lost.

  “Mr Bingley, I suspect what you want to talk about and I am advising you as a friend. No matter what resolution is achieved, there will be a scandal that will affect our family. Perhaps you would want to postpone any conversation of consequence until the rumours pass. Hopefully, people will forget in a few months, especially if Lydia marries Wickham. But that depends on what Wickham asks from us and how frightening the amount of his debts. So perhaps you should delay any other plans…” Mr Bennet suggested.

  Bingley turned pale and he became so nervous that he was barely coherent. “A few months? But… I mean – Miss Lydia will be married in a week. Darcy already made all the financial arrangements and he also took Wickham to apply for a special licence. He…” Suddenly he stopped, turned white and seemed to lose his breathing and his words. “Forgive me. I should not have said anything about that matter, Darcy asked to keep the secret,” he mumbled, looking around desperately for his glass. He emptied it with two gulps, his embarrassment apparent, avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes.

  The others were also lost in disbelief. Their astonished glances were a search for comprehension and acceptance. Bingley had just told them that Darcy already made the arrangements by himself. What could be the meaning of this?

  Mr Bennet opened the letter, read through it in a few moments, shook his head and then read again out loud.

  “Here is what Mr Darcy wrote to me:”

  Mr Bennet,

  I had another conversation with Wickham and I am in the position to confirm he has changed his mind. He is ready and willing to marry Miss Lydia – if she still wishes so. The arrangements he requires are those we mentioned yesterday – Miss Lydia’s rightful share of dowry. Wickham will apply for a Special License so they could marry within a week if you approve of it. Also, he has some friends who will likely offer him a new commission in the North. He will gladly provide you with more details when you allow him to call on you.

  Yours,

  FD

  Bingley was still staring at the carpet, while the others were all overwhelmed by shock and disbelief.

  They were startled by Lydia’s cries from the door frame.

  “Oh papa, is it true? Will I be married in a week? Thank you, Lord! What joy! What happiness! I will write to mama – she will be so happy! Lizzy, you must help me chose a dress! And a bonnet! Oh Dear Lord, I will die of happiness!”

  “Lydia, please!” Elizabeth attempted to calm her, while Mr Bennet folded the papers and addressed Bingley. “Sir, if you wish to talk to me, this would be as good a moment as any other. And then I have something to talk to you about, too.”

  He then rose with difficulty and stepped hesitantly into the library, followed by Bingley.

  Behind, Elizabeth slid into an armchair, looking at her aunt as if asking for help.

  Mr Bennet and Mr Bingley spent an entire hour in the library, while Lydia continued to make plans for the wedding and married life. When the private conversation was finished, the younger gentleman returned alone. Bingley looked distraught, but his joyful grin was proof of his successful endeavour.

  “I must leave now. As I told Mr Bennet earlier, I will return to Netherfield. There is not much I can do here since everything is settled.”

  “Oh – I see. Yes, I believe that is a good decision,” Elizabeth said.

  “Is there anything you wish me to tell your sisters or your mother?” Bingley continued.

  “No – only that I miss them and I look forward to returning home,” she smiled. Surely Mrs Bennet will be so excited with the news Mr Bingley will deliver that she will hardly be interested in anything else.

  “Tell mama I will be married soon!” Lydia cried.

  “I will. Congratulations, Miss Lydia. Very well, then. I hope to meet again very soon,” Mr Bingley concluded with a warm farewell.

  “Likewise, sir. Have a pleasant and safe journey back to Netherfield.”

  ∞∞∞

  As soon as Bingley left, Elizabeth hurried in search of her father. For a moment she had suspected that Bingley wanted to annul his wedding, but it seemed he wanted something else… and she wanted to know what it was.

  As happy as she felt for her sister and Bingley, her mind was filled with questions and speculations about Darcy’s involvement. He seemed to have taken everything upon himself, pretending Wickham had changed his mind by himself. If not for Bingley’s indiscretion, they would have perhaps suspected but not known the truth about the extent of Darcy’s help.

  “Papa?” she entered slowly and found her father resting with his head on his palms. She was frightened he might be ill and touched his arm. “Papa?”

  “I am fine, Lizzy. Do not worry.” He raised his head, looking to his favourite daughter. “Do not worry, one does not die from shame…”

  “Papa…”

  “You know, Lizzy, apparently everything was solved with so little trouble and expense on my part. But what I would like to know is how much Darcy paid to make Wickham marry your sister, why he took everything upon himself, and how will I ever repay him.”

  Elizabeth sat near him, distressed to see her father in such a pitiful situation.

  “Papa, Mr Darcy’s relationship with Wickham is stronger and deeper than we knew. Mr Darcy repeated to us that he feels it is his duty. And he is too stubborn to be convinced otherwise. I think he solved everything in such haste, so nobody had time to interfere.”

  “Yes, yes. Mr Bingley told me the same.”

  “But do you think he truly paid five thousand pounds? Dear Lord, I hope not!”

  “I suspect he paid double that sum if he covered all Wickham’s debts. Bingley said Darcy insisted on him not to mention anything beyond the letter. He was certain that Darcy will be angry with his outburst. He pleaded with me not to discuss with Darcy anything more than he wrote to me.”

  Elizabeth remained silent and stunned. Her heart told her he had done it for her. Yet she was terrified that something was changed in their relationship. He let Bingley come alone and in vain she had waited for him all morning, yet he was nowhere in sight.

  “What should we do, Lizzy?” Mr Bennet whispered to her. “How can we repay Mr Darcy for saving our family?”

  “I do not think a payment is needed. Or even possible, papa…”

  “I only hope that he becomes your husband and I will have more time to pay him back such a debt!”

  Elizabeth kissed his forehead, remaining on the arm of his chair like she did when she was a little girl, but now she was grown−up and the man near her was so far away from the benevolent and ironic father she used to know; he seemed more and more like an old man defeated by life.

  “Come, papa dear, she said with all her love; do not think about what Darcy did. He loves me, he truly loves me and he wants to be part of my family, you do not owe him anything.”

  She kissed him again, just wanting to be near him and help him forget the last weeks.

  “Now tell me what Mr Bingley wanted to tell you so urgently!”

  Mr Bennet smiled and said with a light-hearted voice, “It looks like the young Bingley cannot wait the two months interval to their wedding as decided in Hertfordshire, and he wants to be married right after the next three Sundays.”

  ∞∞∞

  A week passed with much distress, with letters exchanged between London and Longbourn, with unreasonable demands of purchases from Lydia and unsuccessful attempts from Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner of making her see reason, with Mr Wickham attending dinner twice.

  Wickham’s impertinence matched Lydia’s carelessness and brought Mr Bennet to the edge of his patience. He even attempted to speak to Elizabeth, but she abruptly made him aware that she knew all the sordid details of his elopement and quickly shortened the discussion.

  To Elizabeth, Wickham’s presence was another proof of her silly misjudgements; she watched the man smiling and complimenting everyone, in a very Mr Collins-like style, and was ashamed of how easily she fell for his shallow charms a
nd how readily she believed his falsehoods about Mr Darcy. And now, she was taught a painful lesson affecting their family and condemning Lydia to a life of unhappiness. Perhaps if she were more prudent, wiser regarding Wickham, Lydia would not have so easily been deceived into eloping with him.

  It was late for such considerations, but she could not escape them. Darcy called in Gracechurch Street every day, sometimes even twice; he was always present for dinner, and he met with Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner at his gentlemen’s club. He appeared as desirous for her father’s and her uncle’s company as for hers.

  “I really enjoy being with your father and uncle…” he said one afternoon in Mrs Gardiner’s drawing-room, they were alone for some moments but he did not dare to approach her as at any instant someone could enter the room. He caressed her with his eyes and she smiled, lost in his gaze.

  “You cannot understand this, as you still have your parents near you. I have been alone for many years now and I miss this kind of relationship; I am so happy I found in your father someone ready to accept me into your family, like a son not only a son in law!”

  “Well…” Elizabeth laughed, “I suppose his secret dream was to have a son, each time a daughter was born!”

  “Well… Elizabeth, I want you to give me a daughter first.”

  Elizabeth blushed, she had been so sure he could not, from that distance, do anything to excite her or make her blush… but he proved her wrong. Telling her he wanted her to give him a daughter was so intimate that she almost felt his hands all over her, as if they were in the carriage again. She kept on looking at him, wondering how he had such an effect on her from four feet away. But his eyes were telling her how he intended to put in practice his plans, yet she knew so little about them. Her little sister knew more about how to be with a man than she did.

  Those days Darcy seemed capable of reading her mind as he whispered − just before the Gardiners were back − “I will teach you everything, my love!”

  A certain peace had been attained where only a week ago was only despair and worry. Yet it was not the equilibrium that their family had in the past when, Mr Bennet remembered, a hat missing a yellow ribbon could create chaos. In fact, he did not recall a more horrible period than the one they were traversing. And Mr Bennet feared it was not over; it was impossible for such a story not to leave traces. Elizabeth and Jane were engaged, but there still were at least three weeks until the weddings. And despite Mr Darcy’s efforts, their family had no more honour intact. He only prayed that it would not put any obstacle in his other daughters’ happiness. Society was ruthless, and a woman’s honour was so easily lost.