Page 33 of Most Truly the Gentleman

They sat down to their needlework and their mother’s musings on how best to impress the neighbours with Mary’s wedding, often bemoaning the bride’s insistence on simplicity and thrift. Many ideas were reluctantly discarded with a declaration that ‘we shall do it when you marry Mr Bingley, Jane’, to which they all wisely refrained from comment.

After some time, Mary suggested that her mother had quite worn herself out with all this planning, and ought to lie down for a while before dinner, for the sake of her nerves. Mrs Bennet was pleased with her middle daughter’s consideration and agreed.

Once their mother’s steps on the stairs passed from their hearing, Mary turned to Elizabeth and Kitty and stated baldly, “Something has occurred, and I should like to know what it was.”

Kitty frowned, but Elizabeth knew that Mary must be told, for her betrothal might hang in the balance. Jane was patently anxious to hear the outcome of the search, as well, and so Elizabeth explained the events of the day. When she related the situation in which they found Lydia, Jane gasped, and when Mr Pratt’s married state was revealed, so did Mary. Mr Darcy’s intervention was received with gratitude, though Mary worried aloud that he might speak of what he had seen.

“He promised that he would not, and he is a man of his word,” Elizabeth replied firmly, and Jane was quick to agree.

“It is likely, I think, that Mr Pratt would have kept quiet in any case,” Jane added. “No one hearing such a tale could think well of him, either. But it is no terrible thing that he should have some fear of retaliation also.”

“That is the most unforgiving thing I have ever heard you utter!” Elizabeth exclaimed approvingly. “But you were not there, Jane. You did not hear the contempt in his voice when he spoke of Lydia. I think it rather more likely than not that he might have bragged of the liberties he took with her to his particular friends. Now, we have reason to hope he will keep his tongue still.”

“Idiot child,” gritted Mary through clenched teeth. “If this comes out...”

They all understood what she could not bring herself to say. Mr Collins might have little choice but to cry off, for all that he seemed really attached to Mary. His opinionated patroness might demand it when he canvassed the matter with her, which he would.

“We do not believe anyone else witnessed her misbehaviour, though it is likely that she was seen in Meryton. If anyone did, it will be all over the county by tomorrow, and we shall know. Aunt Philips will hurry to tell us what is being said,” Elizabeth said sardonically. “The more time passes, the less likelihood of discovery, so long as Lydia can be kept quiet and Mama, ignorant. If Mr Pratt should choose to break his silence at some later date, we might more credibly dismiss it as a young man’s empty boasting. There would be talk, but there would also be doubt.”

“We must wait, and hope for the best,” Jane added, something of her usual optimism returning.

“I hate waiting,” muttered Kitty.

Darcy loitered a few moments in the shadows of the passageway, until he found an opportunity to slip back onto the high street unnoticed. He touched his hat to Lady Lucas and Mrs Goulding, and stopped to exchange a few words with young Mr Harrington, who wished his advice on where a man whose purse would not stretch to Tattersall’s might be most likely to find a good mount in London.

At last, he arrived at his original destination, the circulating library, and spent an hour browsing the selection there. It was not bad; he might go so far as to call it quite good for such a small town. He did purchase a subscription for the quarter, and left with several volumes with which to entertain himself in the coming days. Only when he was back on his horse and clear of the town did he allow himself to dwell upon the scene in which he had so uncharacteristically and impulsively involved himself.

The girl’s behaviour really was unconscionable. To be going about kissing grown men at fifteen, when she ought rather to be in the schoolroom! There certainly had been some great mismanagement in the education of Miss Lydia Bennet. Yet the two eldest sisters were admirable, and there was nothing truly wrong with the third, and none of them deserved to suffer for the actions of their foolish sister. Even the fourth, come to that; silly she might be, but he had no reason to think her character poor.

And that, he told himself, must be why he had intervened. Bingley would be utterly crushed if aught occurred to put Miss Bennet out of his reach, also. He had acted to preserve the reputations of three, perhaps four, deserving ladies, and his good friend’s peace. He had absolutely not done it entirely because the look of horror and dismay on Miss Elizabeth’s face had been like a fist to the midriff.

Entering Netherfield, he heard Miss Bingley’s voice from the blue parlour and stepped softly on his way to the stairs, not wishing to be waylaid. He could not vouch, just at that moment, for the evenness of his temper. He gained his chambers without incident and, once he had been relieved of his riding boots and brushed free of road dust, he sent his man to locate Colonel Fitzwilliam, if he were in the house, and ask to meet with him as soon as it might be convenient.

His cousin appeared a quarter hour later, curiosity writ large upon his face. “Has something occurred, Darcy? Has Miss Bingley overreached again?”

“It is not Miss Bingley this time,” he said. “Please, sit. You do not seem to be walking very easily today; ought we call for Mr Jones?”

Fitzwilliam shook his head, making a dismissive gesture as he lowered himself into the other armchair near the fire. “Some days are better than others, Cousin. Today is not a good day, but neither is it unusually bad. You may distract me with whatever has caused you to summon me.”

Darcy explained what had occurred in Meryton that day, and how he had brought the colonel’s name into the business. Fitzwilliam’s eyebrows rose, but he was far beyond being truly shocked or disturbed by such bloodless misadventures.

“Foolish girl,” he commented. “I have no quarrel with your wielding my name in such a manner, and if Mr Pratt is foolish enough to boast of his conquest, I will take great pleasure in ensuring he regrets it. It may not be a terrible idea to make a point of asking after his wife when next we are in company together,” he added thoughtfully. “It would demonstrate that I am fully informed, and if overheard by any of the local quidnuncs, word of his status will soon spread to any other young ladies with whom he might like to trifle.”

“No, not a terrible idea at all,” Darcy agreed. “He will no doubt be up to the same tricks wherever they are next sent, but it would at least safeguard our acquaintance here.”

The colonel chuckled. “We seem to be making something of a habit of protecting the populace of Hertfordshire from blackguards in the militia.”

“Let us hope Mr Pratt is the last of those.”

“Indeed.” His cousin regarded him curiously. “Has this adventure affected your willingness to allow Georgiana to know the Bennets?”

Darcy had considered that while he waited for Fitzwilliam to arrive. “Not at present. I think it likely that Mr Bennet will confine Miss Lydia even more strictly now, so it is not very likely she and my sister will meet, except perhaps at church. If I am wrong, and Miss Lydia is out in company again soon, I may reconsider.”

“A fair assessment,” the colonel agreed. “She likes the other ladies very well, and I am glad to see her making friends; I would not pull her from their society prematurely. Now we must wait and hope that the matter of Miss Lydia is successfully hushed up.”

Darcy recalled with a jolt that ensuring scandal did not touch the Bennets must be of particular concern to his cousin, also, given his interest in Miss Elizabeth. He wished for a fleeting instant that he had not intervened, and immediately hated himself for it. He wanted only happiness for both of them, and if they were to find it together, he must reconcile himself to it. The alternative—distancing himself from his cousin—was unthinkable.

“In as small a society as this, I believe it will not take long for the news to get out if anyone else saw anything, unbeknownst to us,” he said, assiduously concealing his inner conflict. “There will be some danger until Mr Pratt leaves the area, of course, but he was very attentive to my threat.”