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I spoke as gently as I could. “You do realise that, by doing so, you prevented him from hitting your sisters, but you also, through no fault of your own but your desire to protect your beloved sisters, encouraged him to teach them to ridicule everyone else?”
That was a thought that had clearly never occurred to him, as it had never occurred to me either, but it explained so much, so simply. He trembled as I imagined one memory after another must have flitted through his mind.
His tea was forgotten, sitting on the table as he ruminated for some time. “I believe you may have the right of it.”
Yes, this man would do! He would do very well, if Jane gave him another chance. Perhaps she would, or perhaps she would not, but it would not hurt if she could see the man I was seeing.
As gently as I could, I said, “Now that you see, you do understand it is your obligation to try to teach your sister not to hate. Do not blame yourself, as she has had many years to learn the lesson herself, but you must make the attempt. Do not distress yourself if it cannot be done, but you owe it to her, and to yourself, to try.”
I imagined he would be chewing that idea for some time.
Eventually, he nodded. “I shall give it my best. I already surprised myself, so perhaps I will again. It never even occurred to me, but I thank you.”
“Do not thank me,” I replied honestly. “I only stumbled upon it by accident. I am not so very clever myself.”
He straightened. “Perhaps not, but neither are you hidden away in your library when your family is threatened. You may succeed or fail, but at least you are in the arena.”
I chuckled at that, liking the man more and more.
He nodded at a private thought, then abruptly asked, “You asked if I was ever afraid. Why did you ask?”
He deserved an honest answer.
“I have five daughters. I have been afraid for years that I could not get them well settled, and they might all end up in the hedgerows, or worse. Then I mostly drove them there myself. Fear does strange things to you. Being afraid is terrible. Being ridiculed for your fears is even worse. I deserved much of what I got, but certainly not all. Even with that though, there was no excuse, no justification, nothing I can say that makes what I did to Lizzy anything but terrible. I was just being selfish. I deserve whatever censure she chooses to dish out, and I doubt very much that I will ever be able to tell her how much I regret it.”
The young man reached across the table and took both my hands in his, and held them for a few minutes without saying anything. I had to admit he was my very favourite man in the world at that moment. Perhaps his story with my family was not yet complete, but only time would tell.
A few minutes later, he sniffed the air. “Is that smoke? I believe those two—” He glanced at the cellar door before continuing. “—may have set the place afire.”
“I certainly hope so,” I laughed; “I should hate to waste all the oil I spilled on the stairs. This parsonage is the place of Lizzy’s nightmare. I would have it gone. Lady Catherine and the church can afford to build a new one.”
He looked a bit alarmed, not that he cared about a parsonage.
I stood. “Come, Mr Bingley. It will take a good quarter hour at least for the fire to escape the cellar, but the die is cast. We could not put it out even if we wanted to. Would you mind walking me out to release Lizzy’s poultry and her pig? I care much more for that pig than I do for the two so-called men in the cellar.”
He nodded as if it were an everyday occurrence. “Where will you go?”
“My husband is not the best one, but he is still mine, and he is abed more often than not. I will return to Longbourn. He will not live much longer, and then I shall see. I—”
He raised one eyebrow at me in question, and I told him my shameful little secret.
“It is well known I set a fine table and overspent my allowance for years. What is not known is that not all the money went to tradesmen. I saved some for myself, and I believe I may be able to live simply for several years. Perhaps I will take your sister’s place in Scarborough.”
“My aunt would welcome you with open arms,” he said with a laugh and a gallant bow, and offered his arm.
I put my husband’s pistol back in my work basket and left the parsonage satisfied with my day’s work. I looked at a clock on the way out, and it seemed I had a post coach coming in a couple of hours.
The smoke coming from the cellar door was becoming thicker by the minute, and I tried to see if I felt any remorse. It turned out I felt remorse aplenty for what I did to Lizzy, but nothing whatsoever for the filth lying in the cellar.
True to his word, Mr Bingley released Lizzy’s animals and drove them off the path towards Rosings, then gallantly escorted me to the lane in front of the parsonage where a carriage would park if it visited.
I asked, “If it would not trouble you, would you stay here to make sure some fool does not endanger himself looking for people in the parsonage?”
He had a faraway look, probably comprehending that Jane was but a half-mile away and perhaps not entirely out of reach.
He bowed. “With pleasure. It has been an honour, Mrs Bennet.”
I left him standing pensively just as I started seeing flames come up the wall, and by the time I turned the corner where I could not see the parsonage anymore, there was a good amount of smoke billowing into the sky, and I welcomed it.
