“I believe you are correct, Jane. I do not blame Mr Darcy! I only wish Lydia’s affairs could be settled more satisfactorily, but there—she has created this for herself. We must move forward as we can.”
“She is respectably married, at least,” Jane decided optimistically. “It is not so very unusual for a woman’s husband to leave her to the comforts of her family when he is stationed at his post. Surely, such an explanation will do for the neighborhood until more is known of Mr Wickham.”
“It will have to, Jane. We must treat her gently, for she is quite heartbroken.”
Jane was clever enough to combine this subtle hint with the private looks Mrs Gardiner bestowed on Elizabeth. “You are quite right, Aunt. If you will excuse me, I believe I will take her some tea.”
“Yes, dear, that will be just the thing.” Mrs Gardiner paused until the door had closed once more, then spoke gently again. “Elizabeth, you are silent, but your eyes speak much. Will you tell me what troubles you?”
She buried her face in her palms for a moment, and when she at last lifted it, her fingers were wet. “Oh, Aunt! I cannot decide whether I am more proud of him or disappointed in him!”
“I know how you feel,” Mrs Gardiner sympathised. “I do think him an honourable man, Lizzy, whatever his reasons. He has done what we could not, and even without the furtherance of his aid, Lydia is better off than she was before.”
“But to fail to see through that which he has begun—that is not at all like the Mr Darcy I thought I knew! Troublesome, impossible man!”
“Do calm yourself, Lizzy. You said once that you had judged him rashly, to your regret. Let us not repeat that error. We do not know the particulars of his circumstances.”
“I think I do, but it does not matter. I cannot blame him for removing himself from Lydia and Mr Wickham, but I could almost despise him for secretly trying to help my family only to suddenly withdraw once more. What can he mean by it? Has he already come to regret involving himself? Does he intend to excite my hopes, then to dash them—demonstrating fully to me all that could have been, but is not? Or does he believe that he has done all that is required? In that case, he truly is as proud and disagreeable as I had once supposed!”
“Take care, my love!” protested her aunt. “Whatever the gentleman’s failings, can he deserve such censure? What is it you mean, ‘demonstrating all that could have been’? Did he, then, offer for you and find himself refused?”
Elizabeth’s face purpled in shame. She looked away, but it was too late, and the words had left her mouth. “Yes, Aunt, last April,” she admitted unhappily. “How insufferable he was, declaring how beneath him we all were, but oh, Aunt, I was worse! I shall live with that humiliation all my life. Though I see now that I was right, that he truly considers us unworthy of him and that his ‘charity’ is all vanity, I ought never to have spoken as I did. You should have heard my address and the accusations I made! Had I but known about Mr Wickham, had I pierced the veil of his charms before I brought myself so low! And had I taken Mr Darcy’s later admonishments enough to heart that I might have cautioned my father—”
“No more is to be done about it,” Mrs Gardiner interrupted. “You must no longer blame yourself for Lydia’s and Mr Wickham’s deeds. She is full young, but Lydia was brought up with the same expectations as you and Jane. Would either of you have run off with a man at fifteen without the advantages of a legal marriage and your father’s blessing? No, indeed!”
“We had not four older sisters to beat to the altar,” Elizabeth pouted sourly. At once, she regretted her attitude. “No, forgive me, Aunt. You are right, I am assigning too much responsibility to Mr Darcy and not enough to the parties at fault. Whatever may be said for the aftermath of the marriage, I am grateful for his interference. As Jane has said, at least Lydia now claims a marriage document and a ring for her trouble, and is lodged safely at home once more.”
“Yes, Lizzy, that may become quite vital,” sighed Mrs Gardiner. “I questioned her rather closely—a disagreeable task it was, but your uncle insisted. I should say that she may soon discover the consequences of her elopement.”
Elizabeth permitted a small gasp of dismay. In her heart, she had feared the same, but she had hoped their family might be spared this one further disgrace. She squeezed her eyes closed and kneaded them with her fingers. “Has my father gone to assist my uncle?”
“Yes, but I do not see what they can do. Short of involving a private investigator and a magistrate, I do not believe they will be able to find Mr Wickham or force him to do anything he does not desire.”
“A private investigator would cost dearly, and a magistrate could mean even greater scandal! Even if they are successful, Lydia is shackled with a rogue who has demonstrated once already that he does not truly care for her. Better for us all that she should continue here as a soldier’s wife. Such women are occasionally made widows; let us hope that the people of Meryton feel the same.”
“My sentiments exactly. Take heart, Lizzy, all is not lost. We do not know all the particulars. Certainly, his regiment will employ their own resources when he fails to report. Do you know, the more I think on it, the more I am convinced that perhaps Mr Darcy had already gone in search of Mr Wickham by the time your uncle called. He has resources and information concerning that man which none of the rest of us do.”
“Yes, Aunt, that is possible,” Elizabeth conceded. “I shall allow myself to hope for the best while we prepare for the worst. And now, I suppose I must look in on Mama to tell her all the news—or that version of events which she will find most soothing to her nerves.”
“Shall I attend you, or do you believe my influence would be better spent with Lydia and Jane?”
Elizabeth scowled faintly. “Jane. Most decidedly Jane.”
ThoughElizabeth,Jane,MrsGardiner, and even Lydia herself had objected, Mrs Bennet had found it incumbent upon her to spread abroad the news of her youngest daughter’s marriage. No acquaintance was too trivial, no expense too lavish, no praise too excessive to be presented to the dejected young bride.
In truth, as Mrs Gardiner reasoned, Mrs Bennet may have had the right of it. After all, Lydiawasnow married, though her husband was absent. If her family hid her away in shame, it would only reinforce the gossip that Lydia Bennet had anticipated her vows with Mr Wickham. Therefore, Mrs Bennet’s clever fantasy—that Mr Wickham intended to first comfortably establish himself in Newcastle before bringing his gently bred young bride to such a barbaric situation—turned out to be an appetising morsel for Meryton’s ravenous matrons.
Elizabeth had, at her aunt’s urging, managed to behave the dutiful daughter and sister. Her fortitude was much in demand, for without her husband’s restraining influence, Mrs Bennet was apt to run quite wild in her exuberant celebration. After several days of such nonsense, Elizabeth had begun to sense the awakenings of sympathy for her youngest sister, for as soon as ever Lydia could appease her mother, she would retire to her room and give every impression of a young woman fully sensible of her circumstances.
What Elizabeth would have given in those days to know all! Her curious nature became brooding as her heart writhed with unanswered questions. That Mr Wickham might abandon Lydia at his first opportunity, taking with him every farthing of her generous “dowry,” did not greatly surprise her. That he had ever found such an opportunity did. It was not what she had expected of Mr Darcy, to fail to plan for such a contingency. What could have occasioned Mr Wickham’s sudden impunity, when only hours before he had been compelled to at last give up his independence? How had Mr Darcy’s influence failed, and where was that gentleman now?
As Lydia was now the only married sister, Kitty’s things had been removed from that room into Mary’s—a circumstance which likely pleased only Lydia, for she tended to spend whatever hours she could claim for her own in solitude. She spoke less in those days than she had ever done before, and never acknowledged others save when they first commanded her attention. A se’nnight hence, it was only her newly profound regard for her aunt that convinced her to show herself below stairs to bid her adieu.
Mrs Gardiner longed to return to her children, and an express had arrived only the day before from her husband stating that matters with Mr Wickham were beyond his power to repair. He and Mr Bennet had determined that there was little more they could do but to return to their respective homes, and so Mr Bennet was expected to Longbourn later that same day.
“Lizzy,” Mrs Gardiner whispered as they watched the new Mrs Wickham withdraw once more. “Do see what you can do for Lydia. I know the trouble and mortification her actions have cost, but she is not at all herself! I fear greatly for her spirits.”
Elizabeth forced herself not to glower at the ignominy of comforting the very sister who had likely cost her any chance at happiness. “I believe she finds Jane’s company more soothing and Kitty’s more cheerful than mine, Aunt,” she excused herself.
