One such was Madeline Gardiner. “Lydia, dear, the rector is waiting for us!” she hushed her niece.
“Oh, bother that, Aunt. I know I am to be married, so it does not signify if we are a few minutes delayed. I want to admire my George!” Lydia brazenly stared out upon the street, waving as she caught sight of her betrothed.
“Oh!” she cried in relief as her aunt at last succeeded in tugging her within the church. “Did you see the other officer with him? I did not recognise him—certainly he was not one of George’s particular friends like Denny or Carter, but neither was he that insufferable Mr Darcy!”
“Lydia!” admonished her aunt, as firmly as she dared within the church. She glanced about, catching her husband’s eye, then leaned close to her niece’s ear. “You know very well all the particulars of Mr Darcy’s kindness to you,” she whispered. “I think perhaps one day you will see more clearly how your circumstances would have suffered without his assistance!”
“Oh, certainly I am grateful, Aunt,” she shrugged airily. “But it is only George’s due that Mr Darcy has given at last. You know how he was wronged, and I would hate to see that man standing up at my wedding, even if he did, in the end, set us up so very happily.”
Aunt Gardiner rolled her eyes and bit her lower lip. She longed to throttle the empty-headed girl, but there… Lydia was to be George Wickham’s problem soon enough, and her dear Jane and Lizzy the beneficiaries of the honourable arrangement. She shot an imploring glance to her husband, and thanked heaven that Edward stepped forward.
“Mr Darcyiscoming, Lydia,” he assured his niece in no uncertain terms. “I insist that you show him every respect, for until you sign the registry, you are still under my authority. I will honour the man, and my household will do the same.”
Lydia groaned, her eyes half-closed and her expression a cynical deadpan. “Of course, Uncle,” she sighed.
Edward Gardiner sidled close to his wife, shaking his head. Lydia Bennet possessed all the maturity of a twelve-year-old, yet it was for him to give her hand in marriage to a man nearly twice her age. There could be no honour in this! If only there had been another way… but there was not. Wickham’s dissolute ways and Lydia’s own foolishness had seen to that. It was only a mercy that Mr Darcy carried enough influence over George Wickham to ensure that she would be treated well, even after the wedding. And speaking of Mr Darcy….
“My dear,” Madeline whispered close to his shoulder, “I thought Mr Darcy was to escort Mr Wickham to the church?”
“As did I,” he replied in a strained voice. Wickham was now entering, and Darcy was nowhere to be seen. “He had arranged for Wickham to meet with another officer of his new regiment just up the street—for extra assurance, I understand. He was intending to await them both here at the church. Perhaps he decided in the end that he would prefer no further association with the man, and instructed them to carry on without his presence.”
“One can hardly blame him,” she reasoned, “after what Lizzy has told me about his history with Mr Wickham. I suspect there is more that she has not said—and besides that, it is not the way of his station to mingle with those such as we.”
Edward narrowed his eyes, glancing again toward the back of the church. “I believe that he would not wish to encounter Wickham if he could help it, but I see no such pride as you suggest in the man. In fact,” he craned his head about again, as if to verify that the doorway still stood empty, “I rather believed him most pleased with our acquaintance, and with one connection of ours in particular.”
Madeline smiled, threading her arm tightly through his. “I thought the same, my dear, but a man of his importance must have many demands made of his time and his attachments. I will continue to hope, but I shall not judge the man hastily if he should withdraw. He has been very good to our poor Lydia, after all.”
He patted her hand. “Nor I, my love.” He looked about the room once more. The small wedding party had assembled, the rector was frowning over his Book of Prayer, and the bride and groom appeared restless. To George Wickham’s off side, the nameless captain waited nonchalantly. He had no vested interest in the proceedings, and had only made his appearance out of solidarity with a future comrade in arms—and perhaps the extra crown weighting his pocket had been of some assistance. He was beginning to tap his toes.
Edward Gardiner cast one more hopeful glance over his shoulder, but, again, was disappointed. At last, he signaled the parson. “Let us get on with it,” he conceded.
Lydia squealed in delight.
Longbourn, 27 August
My dear Aunt,
Pray, write back and tell me how it is that Mr Wickham and Lydia were found so easily! She wrote us the same day she was to come to your house, and I can scarcely credit her assertions. A carriage! Jewels! Lydia has ever been one to embellish the plain truth, but Aunt, even the note paper on which she wrote was of such quality that I believe there must be some mystery at work here.
How is it possible that he will marry her on such little inducement as my uncle claims? I believe, Aunt, that I understand his character and motivations. I shudder to imagine Lydia’s fate, married to such a man, and I do not think it possible that my uncle would have consented to the arrangement had he not some assurance of her future felicity.
Dare I ask, Aunt, if another of Mr Wickham’s “acquaintances” had aught to do with the marriage? I can conceive of no other explanation, and yet, I cannot imagine why he would trouble himself! He owes our family nothing—less than nothing! When I last spoke with him in Derbyshire, he gave no indication that we should ever meet again.
Oh, Aunt, I do not criticise him; how could I, when he had shown us such hospitality and consideration? Even when I so thoughtlessly expressed my anguish over Lydia’s elopement in his presence, he did not admonish, nor did he immediately turn away in revulsion. He was kind… sad even, but I felt him very clear on this one salient point: that we must part company. Surely, an association with Mr Wickham and our disgraced family are abhorrent to him, but I must know if my assumptions are mistaken!
I expect that you will receive this letter on the very day of the wedding, and as Lydia is to journey here almost immediately, I might the sooner look into her face than receive word from you… but oh, Aunt, I cannot learn what I must from Lydia. Please write, and tell me if my family are indebted to another, and how deeply so.
Yours affectionately,
Elizabeth
MadelineGardiner’shandtrembledas she gently laid the note upon her writing desk. She blinked several times, breathing in slow, measured breaths.
“My dear?” Edward leaned over her shoulder. “Is something amiss?”
“A letter from Lizzy,” she explained, passing it to him.
Her husband took it after laying aside his coat, as if shedding from himself the responsibility of the morning’s events. His own face clouded as he read. “Did you leave her any hints in your latest correspondence, my dear?” he asked when he had finished.
