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“Tell Mama that I am to be married soon!” Lydia cried.
“I shall. Congratulations, Miss Lydia. Well, I hope we shall meet again soon,” Bingley said warmly as he took his leave.
“So do I, sir. I wish you a pleasant and safe journey to Netherfield.”
∞∞∞
After Bingley left, Elizabeth hurried to find her father. For a moment, she feared Mr Bingley wished to postpone his wedding, but their conversation seemed to concern something else, and she was eager to learn what.
Happy as she was about her sister’s engagement, she was full of questions about Darcy’s part in Lydia’s marriage. He seemed to have undertaken everything, pretending that Wickham had changed his mind without persuasion. Had Bingley not spoken, they might have suspected something but never learnt how much Darcy had done.
“Papa?” she asked, entering the room slowly and finding her father with his head in his hands.
Afraid that he might be ill, she gently touched his arm. “Papa?”
“I am well, Lizzy.” He raised his head and looked at her. “Do not worry. One does not die of shame…”
“Papa…”
“You see, Lizzy, everything has been settled with very little trouble or expense on my part. But I should like to know how much Mr Darcy has spent to secure your sister’s marriage, why he has undertaken everything, and how I shall ever repay him. A dreadful question, which I scarcely dare ask!”
Elizabeth sat beside him, distressed to see her father so unhappy.
“Papa, Mr Darcy’s connection with Wickham goes further than we know. He insisted that it was his duty. Besides, he is too stubborn to be persuaded otherwise. He settled everything so quickly that nobody had time to interfere.”
“Yes, yes. Mr Bingley told me the same.”
“But do you believe he really paid five thousand pounds? Heaven forbid!”
“I suspect twice that sum, if he has paid all Wickham’s debts. Mr Bingley told me that Darcy had forbidden him to say anything beyond what was in the letter. He was certain Darcy would be angry at his indiscretion and begged me not to speak of it to him.”
Elizabeth fell silent, astonished by what she heard. Her heart told her that he had done it for her. Yet she wondered with fear whether anything had changed between them in the last few days. He had allowed Bingley to come alone, and she had waited for him all morning in vain.
“What are we to do, Lizzy?” Mr Bennet whispered. “How can we repay Mr Darcy for saving our family?”
“I do not believe he expects repayment. Nor could we manage it, Papa…”
“I can only hope he becomes your husband, so that I shall have time to repay the debt!”
Elizabeth kissed her father’s forehead and sat on the arm of his chair, as she had when she was a little girl. She was a grown woman now, and the man beside her seemed far removed from the affectionate, teasing father she had known. He looked like an old man defeated by life.
“Come, dear Papa,” she said affectionately, “do not torment yourself over what Darcy has done. He loves me, truly loves me, and wishes to become one of our family. You owe him nothing.”
She kissed him again, wishing she could stay beside him and ease the burden of the recent weeks.
“Now, pray tell me what Mr Bingley was so eager to say.”
Mr Bennet smiled, speaking more lightly. “Young Bingley cannot wait the two months they agreed upon in Hertfordshire. He wants to marry as soon as the banns are read for the third time. Then, in his rather confused manner, he told me that Mr Darcy had not paid Wickham’s debts alone…Perhaps he meant that he had contributed too, but was too modest to say so.”
Chapter 15
A week passed, but little happened; they remained deeply distressed, wondering about the future. Only Lydia, the cause of their distress, was happy and serene and kept demanding things for herself, though Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner tried in vain to reason with her. Wickham dined with them once during that week, and his impertinence, together with Lydia’s recklessness, almost exhausted Mr Bennet’s patience.
Wickham even dared to tell Elizabeth how happy he was about his approaching wedding. But she swiftly reminded him that she knew the sordid details of his elopement, putting an end to any further conversation. To Elizabeth, Wickham’s behaviour served as proof of her own misjudgement. She watched him smile and offer compliments to everyone, much as Mr Collins would, ashamed that she had been so susceptible to his superficial charms and had even believed his falsehoods concerning Mr Darcy. She had learnt a painful lesson, one that affected their family and condemned Lydia to a life of unhappiness. If only she had shown greater prudence in her dealings with Wickham, perhaps Lydia would not have fallen so easily for his deceit.
Though such reflections came too late, she could not escape them. Darcy visited Gracechurch Street every day, sometimes twice, and joined them for dinner when Wickham was not around. Occasionally, he met Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner at his club. He seemed just as eager for the company of her father and uncle as he was for hers.
“I enjoy spending time with your father and uncle,” he said one afternoon when they were briefly alone in Mrs Gardiner’s drawing room. He did not move closer, knowing someone might come in, but his gaze caressed her body, and she smiled at him, unable to look away from his eyes.
