Previous Section, Section IV
Part 16A
Elizabeth pled illness over the next several days in order to delay her journey back to Hertfordshire until the time Mr. and Mrs. Wickham were scheduled to depart. She could not bear the thought of facing Wickham knowing how maliciously he had sought his revenge on her through her family and how thoroughly he had succeeded. The blows her spirit had taken the day of Lydia's wedding, and the worse one yet she had received two days hence had left her troubled and silent, and she was a poor companion as her uncle's carriage made its way to rendezvous with that of her father on the day after Lydia and her new husband were scheduled to depart Longbourn.
She had spent the day of her youngest sister's wedding and the morning after in solitude and contemplation. Wickham's vicious jibe troubled her, but not nearly so much as Mr. Darcy's hatred of her. She felt his ill-will was doubly warranted now that she knew that she herself was ultimately to blame for Lydia's disgrace, and marveled at his generosity for helping her family despite his dislike of her. His aid she could only attribute to his friendship with Jane. It was Jane's placid temperament and willingness to believe the best of people to whom they all owed the salvation of Lydia's situation, and Elizabeth was shamed to recall how often she had made fun of Jane's gentle belief in the inherent goodness of all people.
"Well, sweet Jane," Elizabeth murmured sadly, studying the street outside her window, "your faith has certainly been vindicated, has it not?"
She had known better than to seek any reassurance from him, but in that moment when he made his loathing of her so completely plain, she had possessed no defenses to shield herself from it, the moment having come so close on the heels of Wickham's malicious revelation, at a time when she could desperately have used the comfort of knowing he did not despise her as she feared. Nay, it was, in truth, much worse than she had feared, and "despised" seemed too meek and mild a word to describe the depth of the rage he harbored for her. His words to her she would never forget.
"Indeed, I am not inclined. However, Miss Bennet, when I make an error, I rectify it."
At this recollection, Elizabeth turned from her window facing out over the street with a gasp of dismay. What error could Mr. Darcy possibly have been referring to that day on the steps of the church? What could he have possibly felt the obligation to set aright that would have caused him to be at Lydia's wedding, indeed to have helped them find Lydia at all?
More and more during those days as she waited for a time when she could return to Longbourn without the vexing presence of the Wickhams, she wondered why Wickham had married Lydia. A sense of vengeance as deep and passionate as his must have been left little room for pragmatism, no matter how generous the inducement. He could have accomplished his goal of ruining them all if he hadn't wed her sister. What amount of money could possibly have swayed him from that end?
An even more horrible thought suddenly occurred to Elizabeth, that perhaps locating Lydia had not been the extent of Mr. Darcy's aid to her family. The vast sums of money required to turn Wickham from his vengeance into doing the honourable thing may well have been beyond the means of her uncle to pay without hardship. Could Mr. Darcy have paid Mr. Wickham's debts and laid out the sum that would bring Wickham to the alter?
It was an unbearable thought, and Elizabeth fought tears of dismay as she entertained it. It was not to be borne, that he would go so far to help her family after the way she had treated him, that he should bear such mortification and expense while despising her!
Around and around inside her head she went with such thoughts, adamantly denying that even Mr. Darcy's fondness for Jane could possibly have led him to be that generous, yet the nagging suspicion would not go away. Two days after Lydia's wedding, she descended the stairs with the resolve of seeking out her aunt, and finding her in the parlor, asked the question whose answer she dreaded above all things.
"Aunt, you must tell me true--why was Mr. Darcy here that day? Was it he who paid for Wickham to marry Lydia?"
"You must not ask me, Elizabeth," her aunt answered with a troubled frown. "The business Mr. Darcy had here that day he asked to be kept strictly in confidence. Most especially--I beg your pardon, dear, but he was most adamant that you, specifically, not be told."
"If you cannot deny it, then I must believe it to be true. Wickham could not be induced to accept a reasonable settlement for Lydia, and therefore Mr. Darcy took the expense upon himself."
"Elizabeth--" her aunt sat upon the settee whereon Elizabeth only seconds before had sunk despondently. Mrs. Gardiner wore an expression of concern and pity. "Even if such a thing were true, perhaps it is not so bad as you fear. If such a thing were true...perhaps Wickham's demands were not so unreasonable as one might imagine in the end."
"Of course they were, Aunt," Elizabeth rose to pace the room in agitation. "My father told me quite plainly when we first got to London that Wickham was a fool if he took Lydia for a farthing less than ten thousand pounds. But it must have been more than that--fifteen, even twenty thousand, perhaps. Only such a sum could possibly have turned him from his end."
"What end, Elizabeth? Why are you so certain he would not accept a reasonable settlement if one was made?"
To this, Elizabeth had no answer, for she could not confess to her aunt--whom she admired and was prodigiously fond of--that Wickham had only ruined Lydia out of hatred for her, that she had driven him to seek his vengeance by antagonizing him with her knowledge of his scandalous history. She could not admit her fault in the affair, and so she remained silent with her own troubled contemplations.
Her family, now minus two sisters, turned out in the drive to greet her as the carriage pulled to a stop before Longbourn and Elizabeth descended. Her eyes could not leave Jane's beloved face, for it was there she knew she would find the succour she so desperately craved, and she could have wept to see her sister's gentle, welcoming smile. The inanities of her mother and Kitty, and the dry and often inappropriate witticisms of her father all faded into the background, and she clung to Jane's comforting presence as though afraid of drowning without it.
Lost in her own thoughts and her eagerness to speak with Jane privately and share her troubles with her sister, she did not hear the babble of her mother until Mrs. Bennet shrilly cried her name. "Lizzy! Did you not hear what I just said? You MUST go upstairs and freshen up at once, for Mr. Bingley will be here to tea at any moment!"
Elizabeth froze, and her eyes flew to Jane's to see her sister slowly turning pink and gnawing upon her bottom lip. Elizabeth released a soft, startled gasp, and repeated, "Mr. Bingley? He has returned to Netherfield?"
"Of course he's returned to Netherfield! What else have I been telling you of these last ten minutes?" Mrs. Bennet cried in vexation. "Oh, you take delight in taxing my poor nerves. Go, hurry! Change at once! We must all look our best, for there is still a chance he may marry one of you, and if HE is here, you know Mr. Darcy may one day return to visit him..."
So elated was Elizabeth for Jane's sake that not even the mention of Mr. Darcy's possible return gave Elizabeth pause. Still staring intently at her sister, she asked, "Jane, would you come with me to help me unpack?"
Jane nodded eagerly, and they escaped their mother's chatter together, arm in arm up the stairs. No sooner had the door closed behind them then Elizabeth turned to face her sister, who was suddenly beaming with joy.
"'Tis too much!" Jane gasped, "by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! why is not every body as happy?"
"Jane! You must tell me everything! How--when has this happened?"
"Of course, dearest Lizzy, and I shall. Only allow me to catch my breath, for I thought for certain I should burst not being able to share the news with you immediately, but he has not spoken with my father yet. He will do so after tea today."
"When did he return to Netherfield?"
"Only a few days after I left Derbyshire. He was concerned, you see...He came upon me at the inn, only moments after I received your letters regarding Lydia, and I was so very distraught, I could not conceal it from him, and he was so kind, I found myself confiding everything. My aunt and uncle soon returned and he took his leave, to allow us to prepare for our immediate return to Hertfordshire, and once we were here again, I scarcely had time to think about him, for my mother did need me to tend her constantly. Only...I began to be afraid I should never see him again, for all Mama could dwell upon was that we, as a family, were all ruined, and Aunt Phillips and Lady Lucas and all our general acquaintance seemed to share the opinion. And Mr. Collins wrote that dreadful letter to Papa--"
"Never mind Mr. Collins! Tell me of Mr. Bingley!"
"Well, he had given me no reason in Derbyshire to believe he considered me anything more than a friend or that he was not to be engaged to Miss Darcy...But then he came to call only four days after I returned to Longbourn. He had only just arrived at Netherfield that morning. I had to receive him alone, for my mother of course could not receive visitors, and Kitty was needed to tend her. And he told me--he told me he had returned for me, that he was concerned for me, for my distress at our last meeting, and to be of any assistance he could to our family in our time of need. He told me--he loves me, Lizzy. He always has and that he would marry me that very day if he possibly could so that we would not lose any more time. I asked him to wait, however, until the situation with poor Lydia was resolved, before seeking my father and making an announcement. And so after Lydia was wed, we resolved upon today, when you came home and after Lydia and Mr. Wickham had left, to seek my father's permission and share our news."
"Oh, Jane!" Elizabeth embraced her sister tightly, happy enough to weep for Jane's obvious elation. "How thrilled I am for you...no one deserves such happiness more than you. No one in the world."
For the first time in days, Elizabeth felt her heart lighten, and her own troubles disappeared for some moments as she basked in her sister's joy. She would not burden Jane with her own problems on this day, when her pleasure should be undiluted by any sorrow. The day would come when she would confide, but not today. Today, she would be happy for her sister and be content.
The mood surrounding Longbourn over the next weeks was one of elation, colored with some confusion on the part of Mrs. Bennet, at least. Jane had spoken to her privately and told her she had accepted Mr. Bingley's offer of marriage, and for one of the only times in her life, the good woman was struck legitimately speechless.
"Marry--Mr. Bingley?" she said at last, as though puzzling some strange riddle. "But what of Mr. Darcy?"
"Mama--I am afraid I never had any more mind for Mr. Darcy than he did for me. 'Tis Mr. Bingley I love."
"Of course you love him!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, recovering herself quickly. "My dear girl, he is the handsomest man that ever was seen--" she then went into raptures over the eligibility of Mr. Bingley that left Jane blushing and discomfited, but by the time Jane came back downstairs, the entire matter had been settled with both her parents, and Mr. Bingley would be staying through supper.
Mr. Bennet, in a moment of genuine concern for his eldest daughter's happiness, proposed that they should wait until some of the furor over the circumstances of Lydia's marriage die down before announcing their engagement, so that the scandal should not in any way tarnish what should be a most joyous time for the newly engaged pair. This suggestion did not quite suit Mr. Bingley, who already looked well willing to elope himself, but of course that good man was so agreeable he would not say his future father-in-law nay, and so it was agreed that they would hold an engagement ball a month hence at Netherfield. When asked if his sisters would be attending, Mr. Bingley did not have a ready answer, only that Caroline Bingley had elected to stay with her sister and brother-in-law for a time and that Mr. Bingley was not privy to her plans, giving Elizabeth the suspicion that Mr. Bingley knew of his sister's deception and had confronted her about it.
As the days passed, Elizabeth abandoned her hopes of speaking with Jane about Wickham's revelation and Mr. Darcy's part in the marriage of their sister. She could not bear to see Jane's radiant happiness diminished by any unpleasantness, and now felt her need to confide in Jane had been motivated by a most selfish desire to ease her own distress. Instead, she kept her own counsel in the matter, and found herself the often-bemused onlooker to the preparations for Jane's engagement ball and the wedding which would follow some weeks hence.
It was her mother's insistence that Elizabeth and both her remaining sisters have new gowns for the engagement ball which started Elizabeth pondering a new resolve. Mr. Darcy had taken upon himself a debt which was rightfully hers, and it was only fitting that she should find a way to pay him back. She could not seek employment until after she had reached the age of spinsterhood without creating a scandal, but of all the social occasions when her mother insisted she must have a new gown, only half or less truly merited the expense of one. If she was frugal with her ball and pocket allowance, she could send Mr. Darcy an annual sum of perhaps ₤50. The day would come when she would come into her inheritance of another ₤50, plus the dowry of ₤1000. After she was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, she could cover her hair and declare herself an old maid and perhaps seek employment as a governess somewhere. Her aunt and uncle would no doubt be willing to help her find a position if she requested it. The day might never come when she could pay the entirety of the debt to Mr. Darcy off, but the important thing was that she make some effort to do so.
The logistics of the matter were troubling, however. She could not correspond with Mr. Darcy and therefore her ability to send payments via the post was limited. She could perhaps make an arrangement through Mr. Bingley, but that might eventually reach Jane's attention, and she most desperately did not want her sister to know of this. She considered the problem until eventually, she was only left with the solution of begging her aunt's aid in the matter. She sent her first payment to her aunt with a letter.
Dearest Aunt,You will no doubt be dismayed upon receiving this correspondence, but allow me to set your mind at ease. I know what I am about.
Though you would not confirm the matter, I know for truth that Mr. Darcy was the one who made all the arrangements--both logistical and material--in accomplishing Lydia's marriage. In doing so, however, he has taken upon himself a debt which should rightfully be mine. I cannot relate the particulars without betraying confidences, but the truth of the matter was that I had it within my power to prevent Lydia's elopement and failed to do so. The expense of bringing about an honourable end to the affair rightfully falls to me, not even my father, and most certainly not to Mr. Darcy.
It will avail you nothing to debate the matter with me, for on this I am quite firm. I will repay Mr. Darcy to the best of my ability, meagre though my efforts may be, and in this endeavor I seek your aid. I cannot correspond freely with Mr. Darcy, and even if I could, he might not accept any correspondence from me, and I do not wish to involve Jane or her betrothed in the matter. Therefore I must ask you, dear aunt, and my uncle, to help me, and to be certain this note and the enclosed payment reaches Mr. Darcy.
Yours, &c.
Her aunt and uncle's discretion she knew she could rely upon, as well as their aid, however much they might disapprove. Elizabeth sent her first payment and a brief letter promising future payments, and when the matter was accomplished, she felt relieved of a great burden and was able for some while to take pleasure in the preparations for her sister's upcoming engagement ball and nuptials. Word had gotten out of the engagement, of course, before the invitations were sent out, for Mrs. Bennet's discretion was not to be relied upon in any circumstances. She told her sister Mrs. Phillips, who then shared the news, without any permission, with all her neighbors in Meryton. The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family in the world, though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had first run away, they had been generally proved to be marked out for misfortune.
A week prior to the ball, Jane sought Elizabeth out one evening in her room.
"Lizzy," Jane sighed, "It has been so busy with all the arrangements her recently, I feel I have quite neglected you. You have been so withdrawn lately--are you well?"
"Yes, Jane," Elizabeth smiled, clasping her sister's hand, "I am quite well. Better perhaps now than I have been in many months."
"I--you have been so quite since I became engaged to Mr. Bingley, I was afraid perhaps you had discovered you did care for him after all..."
"Oh, no!" Elizabeth gasped. "No, I have never cared for him in that manner, and I am overjoyed to see you so happy with him."
"I am indeed. If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!"
"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness. No, no, I am determined now that I shall never marry. I shall be a spinster, I am sure of it, and one day will no doubt burden you and your children with the care of an old maiden aunt."
"Lizzy, this sort of fatalism is not like you. Do you not think you will ever find love?"
"I have seen for myself, dear Jane, how quickly love can turn to loathing when loathing is indeed merited, or in the case of our parents, how it can degrade slowly over the years to ridicule and absurdity. I think perhaps I am better off without it. No, my sweet sister shall be all the companionship I need, when she can tear herself away from her handsome new husband to spare me the attention! Worry not for me, Jane. I shall be...perfectly content."
Jane seemed troubled at this pronouncement, and ventured hesitantly, "Lizzy, there is one other matter on which I needed to speak with you. Mr. Darcy and his sister have accepted our invitation to the ball. They will be arriving from London in three days, and will stay until after the wedding."
"As well they should!" Elizabeth declared, though she felt something in her chest tighten with the knowledge that Mr. Darcy would be close by again. "You must be glad to see your friends again."
"Yes, but I know his presence may bring you discomfort."
"Don't be ridiculous. I have nothing to resent Mr. Darcy for. I am pleased you have such a friend."
"But you do not believe he has forgiven you."
"I know for a certainty he has not, but it does not signify. If Mr. Darcy has no objection to my being there, then I certainly have no objection to his. Do not be concerned on my account; I will be fine."
Jane embraced her, then, and returned to her own room, and Elizabeth turned a troubled look to the mirror. In her heart she was not so sure.
The Bennet family was invited to tea at Netherfield the day the Darcys arrived, and though Elizabeth felt an urge to somehow avoid the encounter, she knew she could not without distressing Jane, and instead bravely sallied forth. Her first glance at Georgiana Darcy proved the girl to be everything that Jane had told her of and more, and Elizabeth instantly felt her heart reach out to the young girl who seemed so painfully uncomfortable in her mother and younger sister's loud presence.
"Miss Darcy, I am happy to meet you at last," she said with a smile, carefully avoiding the brother's eyes for fear of what she might read there. "I have heard so much about you, from so many people, I feel I know you already."
"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth, 'tis a pleasure to meet you also. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, told me much about the time he spent in Kent this spring."
"I understand you are fond of music, and play and sing very well. 'Twas all your brother and cousin and aunt could speak of while we were in Kent."
"I do not play so very well," the girl stammered. "Though I am fond of music. I understand you do play, and sing also. My cousin told me he'd rarely heard such a pleasing performance."
"He exaggerates, which I think you will admit, your cousin is wont to do."
"Yes, perhaps," Miss Darcy blushed, and seemed at a loss for words.
"Well," Mr. Bingley interjected, "we shall simply have to have you both perform after lunch, and determine the veracity of Colonel Fitzwilliam's claims for ourselves, shall we not? I can attest that you both play wonderfully, but with one soon to be my sister and the other the sister of my dearest friend, I fear I should be accused of partiality."
Elizabeth noted Miss Darcy turned pale at the mention of performing, and realized as the good-natured, though sometimes less than astute, Mr. Bingley did not, that the girl might be afraid or embarrassed at the prospect of performing before so many strangers. She saw Mr. Darcy ready to speak on his sister's behalf and excuse her from performing, and afraid that his doing so might embarrass Miss Darcy further by calling attention to her shyness, Elizabeth intervened herself.
"Rather than performing separately and running the risk of revealing the extent of Colonel Fitzwilliam's exaggerations for all to see, let us play a duet instead, Miss Darcy. Perhaps together we might do ourselves more credit than we could alone, do you not agree?"
Miss Darcy was visibly relieved by this suggestion and agreed readily, and Mr. Bingley was delighted and never needed to discover how badly he had almost blundered. Elizabeth ventured a glance at Mr. Darcy to ascertain how he might have taken her interference, but his expression was impassive and he did not meet her eyes nor acknowledge her in any way. Whether he approved or disapproved, she could find no indication.
Elizabeth felt an odd sort of protectiveness for Georgiana Darcy from that moment on. Her unease Elizabeth felt an instinctive desire to eradicate, and knowing how the girl had been deceived by Mr. Wickham created an empathy Elizabeth could neither explain nor deny. She stayed by the girl's side through tea, performed two numbers with her at the pianoforte, and quickly steered her mother's conversation away from subjects she felt might overwhelm or trouble Miss Darcy. When Mrs. Bennet began on the subject of her youngest daughter's recent marriage, Elizabeth quickly rose, even before seeing Mr. Darcy in the process of doing the same, and asked Miss Darcy if she would care to take a turn in the garden, a request to which the younger woman gratefully assented.
That evening, after the Bennets had left Netherfield, Mr. Darcy and his sister had some time to themselves in the parlor before supper. Supper was sure to be a dull affair, for the Darcy's were both weary from their journey, and Bingley would no doubt be pining for the company of Miss Bennet, with whose family he had dined most nights since becoming engaged. Darcy thought he could tolerate anything except witnessing Bingley moping about and shambling through the house like a lost puppy for an evening, but for Bingley to leave his guests on their first night there would have been a slight faux pas and so he dutifully remained.
"Do you like the Bennets, Fitzwilliam? Miss Bennet is, of course, as wonderful as I remember her from Derbyshire, and Miss Elizabeth was very kind to me, saving me from having to perform alone and taking me for a walk when so many people came to be too much for me. She seemed very kind, did she not?"
It was on the tip of Darcy's tongue to caution his sister not to trust a friendly face and warm smile when it was offered, but he stopped himself just in time and looked at her closely. Her eyes were searching his face, looking for some sign of disapproval. She wondered why he had not spoken to her of any of the Bennets but the eldest sister, he knew, but now he also understood there was more to her questioning.
"Miss Bingley did not speak well of Miss Elizabeth while we were in Derbyshire," she said softly, "and I would not wish to associate with anyone you did not feel would be good company for me. You are older and have met more people and can judge better than I. I, of course, am not a very good judge of character."
Darcy turned his back so she wouldn't see the tightening of his jaw. Wickham, again! Georgiana did not even trust herself to make friends without his approval thanks to the scoundrel. Darcy had been on the verge of discouraging her from seeking a friendship with Miss Elizabeth (though he felt very small for the thought, for he did not truly believe Elizabeth Bennet would not be fit company for his sister) but now he realized that if he did, it would be a devastating blow to Georgiana's confidence and would deprive her of a much-needed friend. And Miss Elizabeth HAD intervened on Georgiana's behalf several times during tea and shielded her from anything that might give her discomfort. If he discouraged a friendship, it would be to take petty vengeance on Elizabeth Bennet, not for Georgiana's benefit.
"Miss Bingley does not see beyond a person's station and fortune and connections," he said after a moment's deliberation. "She judges a person's merit on whether they live in a fashionable part of town. Of all her friends, I have heard no one speak any harm of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. And your cousin Richard, of course, admired her greatly."
Georgiana's face brightened at this, and her smile lightened his heart and made him feel less uneasy about granting his tacit approval to the friendship. Shortly thereafter, Bingley arrived and they made their way to supper.