Page 34 of Most Truly the Gentleman

“And I shall ensure that he understands your words were not empty. It is all we can do.”

“Would that there were some way such men might be entirely restrained. I feel that even if we succeed, all we have truly done is make two scoundrels the problem of the people in another place.”

“Do not be downcast, Cousin. It is just possible that we have also taught them that they cannot behave so with complete impunity.”

22

POISON PEN

At dinner that evening, Miss Bingley was astonished and discomposed to learn that Miss Darcy had enjoyed her time at Longbourn and Lucas Lodge very much, and looked forward to meeting with her new acquaintances again at Sir William Lucas’s card party tomorrow evening. The lady made an attempt to persuade her young friend that her impressions of the local populace were more kind than correct, but was sensible enough to desist when her words were not well received. Bingley remained unusually quiet throughout the meal.

When the ladies retired to the drawing room and the port had been brought out, Fitzwilliam ventured to engage his host directly. “I recall you said that whatever trouble has come upon you has nothing to do with us, but I believe I may speak for Darcy when I tell you that we should like to be of use if we possibly may. Will you not confide in us? Or in Darcy, at least—I am perfectly willing to make myself scarce.”

“I thank you, Fitzwilliam,” Bingley replied. “In truth, I have come to believe that I was in error when I said the matter does not involve you.”

He grimaced and took a hearty swallow of his port before he continued, “Today, I learnt that Caroline—who, as you will recall, intended to quit Hertfordshire forever when she joined us in town—sent Miss Bennet a letter taking leave on behalf of the entire party. In it, she stated very clearly that we all should remain in town for the whole of the winter; this is the primary cause of Miss Bennet’s increased reticence when I returned. But there was more, which you may consider to be your rightful business: she wrote that I greatly admire Miss Darcy, and that both my family and hers are eager for a greater attachment in that quarter. She claimed that she and Louisa have long cherished a hope that Miss Darcy will one day be their sister, and hinted very strongly that she expected to soon see it come to pass.”

Fitzwilliam rose to pace the room in agitation, while Darcy felt himself paralysed with anger. That Miss Bingley should share her own hopes for her brother’s union was merely indiscreet, but the remainder—the suggestion that every member of both families both wished for and expected the match—was quite beyond the pale; to commit such misrepresentations to writing was unforgivable. In the wrong hands, such a letter might engender rumours that would affect both Bingley and Georgiana for years. He was required to take several deep breaths before he could summon some facsimile of poise and enquire, “Does the letter still exist?”

Fitzwilliam halted and fixed an expectant gaze upon Bingley, who said thoughtfully, “I expect so. Miss Bennet has mentioned previously that she is in the habit of keeping all her correspondence, and said nothing to indicate she had made an exception of my sister’s letter. I am quite certain she would oblige us by destroying it if any of us requested as much, however.”

Darcy opened his mouth to request just that, but was forestalled by his cousin. “Rather ask if you might have it,” Fitzwilliam suggested. “I think you must see it for yourself. If you are to take your sister to task for spreading falsehoods, you must know how explicit her hints were. I should like to see it, too, if you do not object, or at least hear your report upon it. I mean no disrespect to Miss Bennet; I do not suppose she has deliberately exaggerated the contents, only that if her feelings were wounded, she might have inferred more than most would upon reading the same words.”

Bingley nodded and smiled wryly. “You are correct; if nothing else I must know exactly what my sister wrote if I am to have any hope of triumphing in a quarrel about it. Darcy, have you any objections?”

“None at all,” Darcy had no hesitation in replying. “If it is anything like as bad as it sounds, however, I hope you will allow it to be destroyed once it has served its purpose.”

“You may do the honours yourself, if you like,” Bingley agreed easily. “I will go to Longbourn tomorrow and acquire the blasted thing. Miss Bennet is too obliging, and too familiar with the necessity of keeping watch on a troublesome sister, to deny me.”

Bingley had no notion just how troublesome one of Miss Bennet’s sisters had proved to be, Darcy thought ruefully. He wondered why people could not simply behave as they ought, a question which had entered his mind many times in his life. He felt weary to his bones, though it was early in the evening yet; but what a day it had been. First, he had gone on social calls, then Miss Lydia and Mr Pratt had behaved execrably, and now Miss Bingley’s scheme to separate her brother from Miss Bennet had been further illuminated. Wickham had yet to be entirely dealt with, too, though that business, at least, seemed to be proceeding satisfactorily. He felt hemmed about with rogues and fools, all bent on making those he cared for unhappy.

He was pulled from his maudlin thoughts abruptly by a clap on the shoulder from his cousin, as Fitzwilliam returned to his seat. “Do not be so Friday-faced, Darcy,” he exhorted, his customary joviality returned in full force. “It is a bit of luck, I think, that Miss Bennet chose to reveal its existence. I am certain the letter is perfectly safe for the night, and Bingley will have it in hand tomorrow. Miss Bingley will be read a lecture on the subject, and then it may be destroyed and robbed of any power to harm your sister. A vexing business, to be sure, but no true trouble.”

Darcy allowed himself to be cajoled into a better humour, and by choosing to merely briefly greet the ladies in the drawing room before retiring to his own chamber and one of his new books, he ensured that day ended quite pleasantly indeed.

In unspoken accord, none of the sisters suggested they leave Longbourn the following day. If the news of Lydia’s misstep had been spread abroad, better it come to them than to discover it in public, under the eyes of half the town.

Mr Bennet had locked Lydia in her room; Kitty had chosen to stay with Mary, who was amenable to the arrangement, though Mr Bennet had offered Kitty the guest chamber. He had told his wife only that a servant had caught Lydia making for Meryton, and she was now being punished for defiance. Mrs Bennet had objected strongly to this latest punishment of her favourite, though she allowed that it was very bad of her to attempt to leave the house despite her father’s edict, but found that again, he was not willing to be moved.

Mrs Bennet had learnt from missing the ball at Netherfield, and did not press him on the subject once her views had been stated, though once he had been called away from the breakfast table by some urgent matter with a tenant, she held forth to her daughters for some time, complaining that he had changed of late and she did not care for it. Her grievances carried them from the breakfast room to the parlour, though she received little sympathy from her four eldest daughters, who did not at all object to his unwonted firmness of purpose in this case.

Elizabeth ceased to attend at all once her mother began repeating herself; she thought instead upon the scene the previous day, and the unexpected support of Mr Darcy. Had she been asked before the fact what his reaction to such an incident would have been, she would have expected him to quietly depart and keep his own counsel. He was too good to spread the tale and harm the whole family for the doings of one, but she would have thought him too rigidly proper to actively assist in the concealment, to wield his influence for the benefit of acquaintances so recently met.

Perhaps he had acted more for Mr Bingley’s sake than the Bennets’, she mused. If he felt, as she did, that his friend was sincerely attached to Jane, he might have sought to spare Mr Bingley the pain of separation due to scandal. Oh, but what must he think of them now? She cringed inside to imagine how low his estimation of her family must have sunk.

These thoughts were interrupted by Kitty’s low, urgent murmur at her side. “Lizzy, Aunt Philips is coming up the drive.”

She looked out the window and beheld her aunt almost running, red-faced and panting in her haste, a sure sign that she had gossip more interesting than the usual to share. Elizabeth’s heart was in her throat as she turned to discreetly catch the eyes of her other sisters and draw their attention to the window. Jane and Mary both went rather pale, their hands stilling over their stitchery.

Mrs Philips bustled in moments later, crying, “Oh, Sister, such a shame! Whatever will Mr Bennet do?”

Elizabeth had not thought her heart could beat any more fiercely, but it proved her quite wrong. As her mother exclaimed that she had no notion of what Mrs Philips could be speaking and urged her to sit and tell all, the sisters looked to each other, and Elizabeth saw the same fear and resignation written upon their faces as must surely be on hers.

Mrs Philips dropped into a chair and fanned herself with her hand. “Why, did he not tell you? Young Nathan Ward has run off to join the Navy! His father cannot manage the farm without him, and wherever will Mr Bennet find a good tenant to take the place of the Wards in time for the spring planting?”

So strong was the wave of relief which washed over her, that Elizabeth felt for a dizzying moment that she might actually cast up her accounts. Jane dropped her work and swayed, while Mary closed her eyes and bowed her head, no doubt in prayer. Kitty clutched Elizabeth’s hands and shakily let out a held breath.

This was, in fact, bad news for Longbourn, but not half so bad as the news they had expected she bore. The Wards were the tenants of the largest farm on the estate, and Mr Ward had depended heavily upon the assistance of his only son for several years since his lungs had been weakened by a bad winter ague. If Mr Bennet could not find a competent tenant by the spring planting, the estate’s income was likely to suffer measurably next year. To avoid that, he might well have to offer better than usual terms to secure such a man so quickly, which would affect his income for years to come.