Darcy's Diary (19 page)

Today Lydia was married, and her reputation saved.

The morning started badly. I called on Wickham in his lodgings at half past ten as arranged and found him only half-dressed.

‘What is this?' I asked. ‘You have to be at the church in half an hour.'

He poured himself a drink and threw it off.

‘It will only take us ten minutes to get to the church. There is plenty of time.'

‘If you are beyond the hour you will not be able to marry today,' I said.

‘Do you know, Darcy, if you had given me the living I wanted when I applied for it, all this unpleasantness could have been avoided.'

I made no reply.

‘It would have suited me better to marry other people rather than being married myself. I am beginning to think I do not want to be married at all,' he said.

‘Then you must face your debtors.'

‘Ah. I would like that even less.'

He put his glass down and picked up his coat. He shrugged himself into it and tied his cravat, then we went out to the waiting carriage.

‘This is like our boyhoods,' he said to me, as we climbed in. ‘The two of us together. I always thought you would stand up with me at my wedding. Lately I began to doubt it, but here we are you see, friends again.'

‘You are no friend of mine,' I said.

He smiled tauntingly. ‘Unless I miss my guess we will soon be closer than friends. We will be brothers.' He lolled back on the squabs. ‘How happy it would have made our fathers, to know we will be so close to each other. We were almost brothers last year …' He paused, and I required all my self-control not to respond. ‘But alas, fate had other ideas. Or, at least, you did. How is Georgiana?'

‘Better for being away from you.'

‘A pity. I did not think she would forget me so soon. I rather thought she was in love with me. I am looking forward to seeing her again, when Lydia and I visit Pemberley.'

‘That is something you will never do,' I said with finality.

The journey to St Clement's was a short one. The church had been chosen because it was in the same parish as Wickham's lodgings, and the rector was willing to perform the ceremony. He knew nothing of what had taken place in order to bring the marriage about, only that a young couple
wished to wed. He greeted us with smiles as we entered the church and we waited for Lydia to arrive.

‘Perhaps she has changed her mind,' said Wickham. ‘You could not hold that against me. You would still have to pay my debts.'

‘She will be here. Her aunt and uncle will see to it.'

At that moment Lydia entered the church. She glanced towards the altar then broke out in effusive spirits when she saw that Wickham had already arrived. Her aunt and uncle bade her remember where she was, and walked with her to the front of the church.

‘I will be glad when this is all over,' said Mr Gardiner to me in an undertone.

‘I agree,' said his wife. ‘I tried to make her understand the worry she has caused her parents, the disgrace she has brought on her family, and the gratitude she owes to those who have rescued her from ruin, but to no avail. She paid no attention to me and instead talked constantly of Wickham, with every now and then a complaint that we never set foot outside the house.'

The ceremony began, and the marriage which had taken so long to bring about was quickly accomplished.

‘I hope you will thank Mr Darcy for all he has done,' said Mrs Gardiner when it was over.

‘Mrs Wickham. How well it sounds!' said Lydia, ignoring her aunt and gazing at the ring on her finger.

A number of curious people had entered the church, and Lydia showed them all her ring, telling them that they must congratulate her and be the first to call her by her new name.

‘How envious my sisters will be,' she said, as we left the church. ‘Not one of them is married, though they are all older than me. I should be ashamed to be more than twenty and still not married. Jane is fast becoming an old maid. She will have to give up her place to me at the table, for I am a married woman now. What fun it will be! “Jane,” I will say, “I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a married woman.”'

Mr and Mrs Gardiner exchanged glances.

‘They will all be so jealous of me and my handsome husband. I was so worried this morning, when we were coming to the church. I had a horror of him wearing black, but my happiness was complete when I saw he had chosen his blue coat.'

I felt a surge of satisfaction as I realized that Lydia will be just as silly as her mother, and I took enjoyment in the knowledge that Wickham will, after all, be punished for his iniquities, because he will have to live with her for the rest of his life.

I dined with the Gardiners this evening. We were all relieved that everything had passed off well. The last few weeks have been a strain, but everything turned out for the best.

They are a most pleasing couple. Mr Gardiner is intelligent, and Mrs Gardiner has a great deal of common sense. They are cultured and well-bred, and I spent a very pleasant evening in their company – so pleasant that I forgot I was in Gracechurch Street. I have spent many a worse evening at a better address.

To think I once dismissed them without even knowing them, and rejected Elizabeth because her relations did not fit my notion of what they should be! Had I turned such a critical eye on my own relatives I might have realized that she was not alone in having undesirable connections. Lady Catherine, for all her elegance, disgraced herself by suggesting that Elizabeth – her guest! – should practise the piano in the housekeeper's room, something I am persuaded Mrs Gardiner would never do. And Bingley's relations are hardly any better. Caroline Bingley might be a woman of breeding and fashion, but she is also a woman who is eaten up by jealousy and spite.

I returned to Pemberley to find that Caroline and Louisa were full of plans to visit Scarborough.

‘Do come with us, Mr Darcy,' said Caroline. ‘Scarborough is so invigorating at this time of year.'

‘I have too much to do on my estate,' I said.

‘But it would be so good for Georgiana. I do believe she has not seen the sea since last summer, when she stayed in Ramsgate. She must be pining for it.' She turned to Georgiana. ‘Would you not like to see it again?'

Georgiana blushed, and said she had no desire to do so. Caroline turned to me.

‘You would return to Pemberley refreshed, and manage twice as much work as if you had never gone,' she said.

‘My intentions are fixed. But you must go,' I said as she opened her mouth to change her mind. ‘The sea air will do you good.'

‘Sea air,' said Mr Hurst, then retreated into his stupor.

Caroline, Louisa and Mr Hurst departed for Scarborough. They tried to persuade Bingley to go with them, but he said he had no wish to be blown about and would remain at Pemberley. Caroline encouraged the idea. She still believes he will marry Georgiana, and wants him to see her more often, though it is obvious to an impartial eye that he never will.

‘I think I will go to Netherfield again,' said Bingley nonchalantly as we rode out this morning.

‘A good idea. If you mean to keep the house, you should use it from time to time.'

‘That is exactly what I think. Will you come with me? I should like to repay your hospitality.'

My spirits rose. If I went to Netherfield, then I would have an opportunity of seeing Elizabeth again.

‘When do you intend to go?' I asked.

‘In about a week. I thought I would send the servants tomorrow, to ready the house.'

‘Yes, I will come.'

He looked pleased.

‘It is almost a year to the day that I took it. I little thought then …'

His voice trailed away, and it was not difficult to guess what direction his thoughts had taken. I said no more, but let him lose himself in daydreams. Perhaps they will become reality before very long. And my dreams … what of them?

We arrived at Netherfield this afternoon. Bingley declared his intention of riding into Meryton as soon as we arrived, and it was only the onset of rain that made him put his visit off.

Sir William Lucas called this morning, to welcome us back to the neighbourhood.

‘Mr Bingley,' he said with a low bow, ‘you do us too much honour in returning to our humble neighbourhood. We thought we had not joys enough to hold you and yet here you are, fresh from your triumphs in town, to honour our humble village with your presence. Mr Darcy,' he said, with a low bow to me. ‘It seems but a moment since we were all taking tea with Lady Catherine in the delightful dining-parlour at Rosings Park. You enjoyed your stay, I trust?'

Enjoyed it? That was hardly the way I would have described my feelings during those turbulent few weeks, but he took my silence to mean that I had.

‘Have you visited your estimable aunt since that time?' he asked.

‘No,' I said shortly.

‘I hope to visit my daughter again before very long,' he said.

He embarked on a rambling speech, extolling the virtues of his daughter's position. How long he would have gone on if Mr Long had not called I do not know!

When our guests had left, Bingley said: ‘It was after Sir William called last year that Mr Bennet called on us. Do you suppose he will do so again?'

I thought of Mr Bennet's indolent habits and hesitated.

‘Perhaps I could call on the Bennets even without this civility,' suggested Bingley.

‘Wait and see whether he calls tomorrow,' was my advice.

Mr Bennet did not call again yesterday, and this morning, Bingley made up his mind to visit Longbourn.

‘Come with me, Darcy,' he said.

Telling myself I would go with him so that I could see whether Miss Bennet had any regard for him, I agreed, but my real reason was to see Elizabeth. I was as eager to see her as Bingley was to see her sister, and I was just as apprehensive about it.

We set out. Bingley was silent, and I too was lost in my thoughts, wondering how I should be received. If Elizabeth resented me for being the cause of Lydia's ruin I could hardly blame her, more particularly because she did not know that I had helped to set matters to rights.

I had been particularly concerned that she should not know. I did not want her gratitude. If she had developed any tender feelings for me I wanted to know they sprang from love, and nothing else.

We arrived. The servant showed us in. I immediately saw Elizabeth drop her gaze, embarrassed, and busy herself with her needlework. What
did it mean? I wished I knew. Did it mean she was alive to the awkwardness of the situation, or did it mean that she could not bear to look at me?

‘Why, Mr Bingley!' cried Mrs Bennet, jumping up with a smile. ‘How delightful to see you at Longbourn again. We have missed you. You quit us in such a hurry last year you did not have time to say goodbye! I hope you will not be thinking of leaving us again so quickly?'

‘No, I hope not,' said Bingley, looking at Miss Bennet.

I observed her smile, and drop her gaze. She, at least, I could understand, and it was clear that Bingley's hopes would not be disappointed.

‘And Mr Darcy,' said Mrs Bennet in an ill-humoured voice, turning to me.

I took no notice of her humour, and I found it difficult to believe that only a few months ago I had thought it a reason for not proposing to Elizabeth. What did it matter if her mother was silly and vulgar? I did not want to marry Mrs Bennet.

I could not take a seat next to Elizabeth, her younger sisters being by, but I asked her how her aunt and uncle did. She replied sensibly, but then turned her attention back to her work.

Outwardly I was calm. Inwardly, I was otherwise, but I could do nothing. I was not close enough to Elizabeth to continue the conversation without it seeming particular, and what could I say to her, under her mother's eye, that I wanted to say?

To distract my thoughts, I looked at Miss Bennet and wondered how I could not have seen her partiality for Bingley last year. Her feelings for him were there in every gesture, and every look and every smile. Had I blinded myself, wanting Bingley to marry Georgiana? I wondered. I had not thought so at the time, but I realized now that I had.

I glanced again at Elizabeth, wishing I could read her mind.

After a time, she said: ‘Miss Darcy is well, I hope?'

‘Yes, thank you,' I said, glad to hear the sound of her voice.

There was chance for nothing more. Her mother began talking of Lydia's wedding. Elizabeth would not look up. Did she know that I had been involved? But no, I am sure she did not. I had sworn the Gardiners to secrecy, and I knew they would not betray me. Her confusion came from the subject, knowing what she does about my relations with Wickham.

‘It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,' said Mrs Bennet, a speech that would have revolted me a few months before, but which now left no impression. I care nothing for Mrs Bennet. Let her be the silliest woman in Christendom if she chooses. It will not prevent me marrying Elizabeth, if she will have me.

Mrs Bennet continued to talk of Wickham, saying he had gone into the
regulars, and adding: ‘Thank Heaven! He has
some
friends, though perhaps not so many as he deserves.'

Elizabeth's face was a fiery red, and her eyes sparkled with mortification. How I wanted to help her! But how I thought the colour became her.

She did, at last, raise her head and speak.

‘Do you mean to stay in the country, Mr Bingley?' she asked.

I wished I was Bingley at that moment, so that she had spoken to me. Why did she favour my friend? Why would she not look at me? Did she not wish to? I was in misery.