Pride and Prejudice (The Wild and Wanton Edition) (33 page)

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Authors: Annabella Bloom

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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

E
LIZABETH, HER AUNT, and her uncle travelled as expeditiously as possible, even sleeping one night on the road so they could reach Longbourn by dinner time the next day. It was a comfort to Elizabeth to consider that Jane would not have to be worried by long expectations.

The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, were standing on the steps of the house as they entered the paddock. When the carriage drove up to the door, the joyful surprise lighted up their faces, and displayed itself over their whole bodies, in a variety of capers and frisks, showed the pleasing earnestness of their welcomes. Elizabeth jumped out and, after giving each of them a hasty kiss, hurried into the vestibule where Jane had come running down from her mother’s apartment.

Elizabeth had tears in her eyes as she affectionately embraced her. “Have you heard anything of the fugitives?”

“Not yet,” replied Jane. “But now that my dear uncle has come, I hope everything will be well.”

“Is father in town?”

“Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word.”

“And have you heard from him often?”

“We have heard only twice. He wrote me a few lines on Wednesday to say that he had arrived in safety, and to give me his directions, which I particularly begged him to do. He merely added that he should not write again till he had something of importance to mention.”

“And mother — how is she? How are you all?”

“Mother is tolerably well, though her spirits are greatly shaken. She is upstairs and will have great satisfaction in seeing you. She does not yet leave her dressing room. Mary and Kitty are, thank Heaven, are quite well.”

“But you — how are you?” insisted Elizabeth. “You look pale. How much you must have gone through!”

Her sister assured her of her being perfectly well. Their conversation, which had been passing while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were engaged with their children, was now put an end to by the approach of the whole party. Jane ran to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed and thanked them both, with alternate smiles and tears.

Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few minutes’ conversation together, received them exactly as might be expected, with tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her own sufferings and ill-usage. She blamed everybody but the person to whose ill-judging indulgence principally contributed to the errors of her daughter.

“If I had been able,” said she, “to carry my point in going to Brighton, with all my family, this would not have happened. Poor Lydia had nobody to take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her out of their sight? I am sure there was some great neglect or other on their side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing if she had been well looked after. I always thought they were very unfit to have the charge of her, but I was overruled, as I always am. Poor child! And now Mr. Bennet has gone away, and I know he will fight Wickham, wherever he meets him and then he will be killed, and what is to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out before he is cold in his grave, and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what we shall do.”

They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas. Mr. Gardiner, after general assurances of his affection for her and all her family, told her that he meant to be in London the very next day, and would assist Mr. Bennet in every endeavor for recovering Lydia.

“Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he, “though it is right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain. It is not quite a week since they left Brighton. In a few days more we may gain some news of them. Till we know they are not married, and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the matter over as lost. As soon as I get to town I shall go to my brother, and make him come home with me to Gracechurch Street. Then we may consult together as to what is to be done.”

In the afternoon, the two elder Miss Bennets were able to be by themselves for half-an-hour. When Elizabeth asked for the particulars of the event, Jane was happy to oblige. “Colonel Forster did own that he had often suspected some partiality, especially on Lydia’s side, but nothing to give him any alarm. Kitty, however, finally owned, with a very natural triumph on knowing more than the rest of us, that in Lydia’s last letter she had prepared her for such a step. It seems she had known of their being in love with each other for many weeks.”

“But not before they went to Brighton?” Elizabeth frowned. She could throttle Kitty for not revealing the scheme the second she heard of it.

“No, I believe not.”

“Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia’s note to his wife?”

“He brought it with him for us to see.” Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and gave it to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth read, “My dear Harriet, you will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help laughing myself at your surprise tomorrow morning, as soon as I am missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with who I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without him, so think it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at Longbourn of my going, for it will make the surprise the greater when I write to them and sign my name ‘Lydia Wickham.’ What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my engagement, and dancing with him to-night. Tell him I hope he will excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance with him with great pleasure at the next ball we meet. I shall send for my clothes when I get to Longbourn. I wish you would tell Sally to mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before it is packed up, for I would not like my mother to see it and form the wrong opinion of how it got there. Goodbye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will drink to our good journey. Your affectionate friend, Lydia Bennet.”

“Oh, thoughtless Lydia!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “What a letter is this, to be written at such a moment? But at least it shows that she was serious on the subject of their journey. Whatever he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her side a scheme of infamy.”

“I never saw anyone so shocked as father. He could not speak a word for full ten minutes. Mother was taken ill immediately, and the whole house in such confusion.” Jane thought a moment, then added, “Lady Lucas has been very kind. She walked here on Wednesday morning to condole with us.”

Elizabeth hated the idea of everyone knowing their family shame. There was nothing to be done for it, as Lydia handled herself very badly. Inquiries needed to be made by their father and Colonel Forster, servants would know of Lydia’s disappearance, soldiers would know of Wickham’s intent. This was the kind of gossip people loved to spread.

For the briefest moment, she thought of Mr. Darcy, and felt how lost he was to her. She may never see him again, and could not blame him for not taking back up their acquaintance. She hated Lydia in that moment. How could a sister throw away her entire family’s reputation so carelessly and selfishly? How could she forever ruin the hopes and futures of all her sisters?

“It would have been better, had Lady Lucas stayed at home,” said Elizabeth. “Perhaps she meant well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too little of one’s neighbors. Assistance is impossible and condolence insufferable. Let them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied.”

The whole party hoped for a letter from Mr. Bennet the next morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line from him. His family knew him to be, on all common occasions, a most negligent and dilatory correspondent, but at such a time they had hoped for exertion. They were forced to conclude that he had no pleasing intelligence to send.

Mr. Gardiner had waited only for the letters before he set off. When he was gone, they were certain at least of receiving constant information of what was going on, and at parting their uncle promised to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn. Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire a few days longer. She shared in their attendance on Mrs. Bennet, and was a great comfort to them in their hours of freedom. Their other aunt also visited them frequently, and always, as she said, with the design of cheering and heartening them up — though, as she never came without reporting some fresh instance of Wickham’s extravagance or irregularity, she seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than she found them.

All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three months before, had been an angel of light. He was declared to be in debt to every tradesman in the place, and his intrigues, all honored with the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman’s family. Everybody declared that he was the wickedest young man in the world, and everybody began to find out that they had always distrusted the appearance of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit half of what was said, believed enough to make her former assurance of her sister’s ruin more certain.

Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday, and on Tuesday his wife received a letter from him. On his arrival, he had immediately found his brother and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street. Before his arrival, Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, but without gaining any satisfactory information. He was now determined to inquire at all the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet thought it possible they might have gone to one of them on their first coming to London before they procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself did not expect any success from this measure, but as his brother was eager in it, he meant to assist him in pursuing it. He added that Mr. Bennet seemed wholly disinclined at present to leave London and promised to write again very soon.

Every day at Longbourn was filled with anxiety. Before they again heard from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for their father from Mr. Collins. As Jane had received directions to open all that came for him in his absence, she accordingly read aloud to Elizabeth, “My dear sir, I feel myself called upon by our relationship, and my situation in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter from Hertfordshire. Be assured that Mrs. Collins and myself sincerely sympathize with you and all your respectable family, in your present distress, which must be of the bitterest kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove.”

As Jane kept reading, Elizabeth looked over her shoulders, eager to skip the longwinded sentiments of her cousin to learn what, if anything, was said to Darcy’s aunt. As Jane continued, Elizabeth read silently to herself, “The death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of this.” She frowned, scanning forward past his pious words as to the licentiousness of behavior in Lydia that proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence. Then, coming to the part she was most anxious to hear, and read, “You are grievously to be pitied, in which opinion I am not only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by Lady Catherine and her daughter, to whom I have related the affair. They agree with me in apprehending that this false step in one daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the others. For who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect themselves with such a family? And this consideration leads me moreover to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain event of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me then advise you, dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off your unworthy child from your affection for ever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offense.”

“He is insufferable,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “How superior he acts, as if now somehow redeemed against the imaginary slight of my not marrying him! He, who asked another within days of receiving said rejection. Of course, he went to Lady Catherine, happy to report everything to her.”

Jane looked curiously at her, for she had not gotten to that part of the letter. Elizabeth, by way of answer, pointed to the hateful lines. Seeing she did not have a willing listener, Jane proceeded to read in silence.

Mr. Gardiner wrote when he had received word from Colonel Forster, and then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send. It was not known if Wickham had a single relationship with whom he kept up any connection, and it was certain that he had no near one living. And in the wretched state of his own finances, there was a very powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to his fear of discovery by Lydia’s relations, for it had just transpired that he had left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable amount. Colonel Forster believed that more than a thousand pounds would be necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed a good deal in town, but his debts of honor were still more formidable. Mr. Gardiner did not attempt to conceal these particulars from the Longbourn family.

Jane heard them with horror. “A gamester! This is wholly unexpected. I had no idea of it.”

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