Truth about Mr. Darcy (29 page)

They retrieved their coats in silence and left the house to walk in one of the gardens. “Fitzwilliam, I hardly understand why my father would need to think over such a generous offer. Would it not be to the advantage of our entire family? He must be well aware he could never afford to do so much for them. He has not your income or your influence in society.” Elizabeth folded her arms.

“Yes,” Darcy answered, “he is, Elizabeth. He is well aware of the differences in our financial situations, and it is a matter of some delicacy. How do you think you would feel if you were in his position? Your father is very upset over Lydia’s outrageous behavior, and he must, undoubtedly, be laying a healthy portion of the blame for her failings on his own shoulders. Please do not be too hard on him, my love. Just be patient, and give him the time he requires. In essence, I have offered to assume responsibility for all your sisters, as though he has not done an adequate job. It was not my intention to cause your father any further pain or humiliation, and most definitely not to imply that he has not been a good father to you, but I fear that is precisely what my making such an offer may have accomplished. That is not something to be taken lightly. I hope he will understand that I meant him no disrespect. I only wish to help redirect your sisters to a more propitious path.”

Elizabeth stopped and turned to face him. “I am sure he understands that you wish only to help us. You are truly the best man I know, Fitzwilliam, and I love you all the more because you possess such selfless goodness.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned in to give him a kiss. “I only hope my father will see fit to accept your offer, for all of our sakes.”

Darcy hugged her closer. “Your father is an intelligent, sensible man, Elizabeth. He knows what is best for his family.” Then smiling, he said, “He allowed you to marry me, did he not?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, but that hardly signifies! As much as I love my father and do not wish to occasion him any pain or disappointment, I would have married you without his consent, in any case. We would have been forced to wait only until next year, when I would have become of age. I love you that much, Fitzwilliam. Indeed, after knowing you, my dearest, I am certain no other man could ever make me happy.”

Darcy rested his forehead against hers. “Elizabeth, you cannot know what it means to have you for my wife. Waking every morning with you in my arms is happiness like none I have ever known. I thank God every day that I have you to love me.” He kissed her then, with great feeling, and they remained thus engaged until Bingley’s arrival called them back into the house.

On the day Charlotte Lucas became Charlotte Collins, it came as no surprise to the inhabitants of Longbourn that Mrs. Bennet declared herself unequal to the task of feigning a pleasure she could not feel. Indeed, the knowledge that Charlotte, and not one of her own daughters, would usurp her place as mistress of that estate after the death of her husband brought her no comfort. To make matters infinitely worse, it had recently been brought to her attention that Lydia, who was by far her favorite child, had been discovered in a compromising position with George Wickham. Normally, this would not have been the cause of much agitation and distress to Mrs. Bennet, for she would have looked upon the prospect of having another daughter married as nothing short of a fortuitous act of providence; however, the unhappy reality that the prospective bridegroom had seemingly fled the area without so much as a hint of his whereabouts, left her in high dudgeon and with a fit of nerves that amazed even her husband.

“Oh, Mr. Bennet! You must find him and
make
them marry,” she cried, her distress extreme, “for soon everyone will hear of it, and then what will become of us all?” She blotted her eyes with her damp handkerchief and continued. “I simply do not understand it! Lydia was always such an obedient, respectful girl. Never any trouble at all—and so popular with all of the officers, too. Surely, there must be one
of
them
, at least, who would happily marry her if Wickham is not found!”

Darcy rolled his eyes and walked to the window to stand beside his wife, who laid a hand upon his arm in a gesture of assuagement. He gave her a searching look before raising her hand to his lips, caressing her fingers with an almost reverent kiss. It was truly beyond his abilities to understand how Elizabeth and Jane could have been born to a woman as impractical as his mother-in-law, and he found himself suddenly wishing they could depart for London on the following day, as they had originally planned. In light of all that had occurred, however, Darcy had decided to remain in Hertfordshire until Colonel Forster and his men determined Wickham was most definitely not in the area. In his opinion, such news could not come soon enough.

Elizabeth’s spirits had been low since her encounter with Wickham, and it concerned him. At her insistence, Mrs. Bennet had not been made aware of Wickham’s assault, and it was obvious to Darcy that Elizabeth’s state of mind was far from improved by her mother’s obtuse comments. He longed to take her away from the unpleasantness of the last few days and from the added stress of reliving the painful event in the antagonistic company of her youngest sister.

If he was honest with himself, Darcy knew he was really longing to take her not to London, but to Pemberley, where he felt fairly confident his wife would soon find many ways to raise her spirits as they submersed themselves in their new life together.

Mr. Bennet’s dry voice, tinged with anger, rang out from across the room. “My dear, if anyone should hear of your daughter’s indiscretion, I am certain it will be by your own mouth, as the only people who are aware of Lydia’s shameful conduct currently occupy this room.” He then made a sweeping motion with his arm, indicating Darcy, Elizabeth, Jane, and Bingley. Colonel Forster was the only absent party. Darcy cringed. He would not put it past Mrs. Bennet and her loose tongue to advertise the scandal any more than he would Lydia herself. He briefly wondered where his sister-in-law was at the moment, as he had hardly seen her since they returned from the wedding breakfast at Lucas Lodge. Lydia, due to her shameful behavior at that house not two nights prior, had not been permitted to attend. It was now nearly teatime.

Just then, the front door to the house opened, and Lydia’s loud voice could be heard ringing throughout the front hall. Her father strode to the door and summoned her into the drawing room. Lydia immediately took in the grave faces collected there and her mother’s incessant wailing, and rolled her eyes. “Lord,” she muttered, “you are a dreary lot.”

“And why should we not be?” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Mr. Wickham has gone from the country, perhaps never to return!”

With a huff, Lydia threw herself upon one of the sofas. “Oh, Lord! Wherever did you get that notion, Mama? I daresay you ought not to put stock in anything Mr. Darcy and Lizzy have to say on the subject, for they cannot possibly know anything of my dear Wickham,” she said as she readjusted a bit of lace on her gown. “Indeed, Wickham shall return for me. He must only have some very pressing matters of business, I am sure, for he dearly loves me, as I do him, and we shall be married sooner or later.” Here, she shrugged. “It hardly signifies to me when our wedding shall take place, for I know I shall someday be Mrs. George Wickham.” Then she laughed. “Lord, how droll that sounds!”

Elizabeth had heard all she could possibly bear, and with a sound of disgust, she hastened from the room, slamming the door behind her. Darcy made to follow her, but Jane placed a steady hand upon his arm and shook her head. “I will gladly see to my sister, sir. Do not trouble yourself.”

Darcy relented, only to pace before the window and quit the room himself not five minutes later. Shutting the door behind him, he stood in the hall before he discerned the sound of Jane’s voice coming from abovestairs. Not wishing to intrude upon a private moment between the two sisters, he had just taken a seat to await them when he heard the distinctive sounds of retching, followed again by Jane’s soothing voice. Taking the stairs two at a time, he soon came upon both ladies seated upon the floor of the nearest water closet.

“Elizabeth!” he exclaimed as he stood over the pale form of his wife and watched her lay her head upon Jane’s lap.

“I am well,” she whispered.

He knelt before her and stroked her clammy brow. “You are not well. I shall call for a doctor.”

“No. There is nothing Mr. Jones will be able to do for me, Fitzwilliam. Indeed, this is perfectly natural.”

Darcy studied her with an incredulous expression. “
This
is perfectly natural? You cannot be serious.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and swallowed several times. “Jane,” she implored.

Jane colored and, without looking at her brother-in-law, said, “I believe it is to be expected for a married woman in my sister’s condition, sir.”

Taking her meaning at last, Darcy could find nothing to say other than a simple, “Ah,” as he twisted his signet ring.

They were joined then, and quite unexpectedly, by Bingley. “So this is where you all have got to. I was—good God!” he exclaimed as he beheld Elizabeth’s pale face.

Embarrassed to have Bingley come upon her in such a state, Elizabeth attempted to rise; however, such an action only served to exacerbate her nausea, and she promptly found herself doubled over the basin yet again. Darcy insinuated himself between Jane and Elizabeth, moving to support his wife as she continued to empty the contents of her stomach. Knowing her sister was in good hands, and understanding how uncomfortable Elizabeth must feel having Bingley seeing her thus, Jane took the opportunity to lead him away.

It was some minutes before Elizabeth’s situation improved. With a groan, she leaned back upon Darcy, whose outstretched arms enfolded her, securing her against his chest. Wishing to distract his wife from her discomfort, he kissed her temple and said, “Though your sister’s cavalier attitude with regard to her behavior certainly causes me to feel ill, I had no idea it was appalling enough to actually inspire the contents of one’s stomach to revolt. I now see I stand corrected. Perhaps I should exercise caution, as well? What think you, my dearest?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and swallowed hard, wiping the back of her trembling hand across her mouth. “I think you choose the most outrageous moments to display your sense of humor, Fitzwilliam,” she said in a weak voice but with the hint of a smile upon her lips.

He kissed her temple once more. “Forgive me. I could not resist,” he said. “I realize I should not tease you so when you are in such a state, especially when this particular state of affliction is due, in part, to my own, ah, very explicit attentions to you. Tell me, are you feeling any better?” he asked, brushing several curls away from her face.

“Yes,” she replied, “although, I fear if I move much I shall begin again.”

“Then here we shall remain until you are feeling completely recovered.” He shifted his weight so they were both a bit more comfortable. Darcy bestowed a kiss upon her head and closed his eyes. They remained thus until well after supper had been announced, and then only to remove to Netherfield so they might spend the rest of the evening in quiet solitude, away from the tiresome ranting of Mrs. Bennet and her favorite daughter.

***

Kitty made her way to the breakfast parlor the next morning with a small, secretive smirk upon her lips. Her father dismissed it as foolishness, which he had long known to run rampant under his roof, but then a quarter of an hour passed without any sign of Lydia. Mrs. Bennet seemed to be the only one willing to remark upon her favorite daughter’s absence. “Kitty,” she said, “you must go upstairs at once and tell your sister to hurry herself along. There is much to be done today. When Lizzy arrives, I will go into Meryton to sit with my sister Phillips, and you girls shall accompany me.”

Mr. Bennet, without raising his eyes from his newspaper, said firmly, “You will do nothing of the sort, Mrs. Bennet. I will not have anyone in this house speak so much as one word about your youngest daughter’s behavior. Since she has not the sense nor the humility to recognize the disgrace she has brought upon herself or her family, she will no longer be permitted into society until she can prove to me she has spent the day in a productive manner, which, I suspect, will not be for some time. The same will apply to you, as well, Kitty.”

Kitty pouted and protested, and even went so far as to cry, but to no avail. Her father would not be swayed. Darcy, Elizabeth, and Bingley’s arrival was announced, and with a few further words of admonishment, accompanied by a stern look or two from Mr. Bennet, the subject was soon dropped.

Another half hour passed by rather awkwardly, and still, Lydia did not appear. “Oh, where is that child?” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Kitty, run upstairs and fetch your sister. I must speak to her at once.”

At this, Kitty’s pouting mouth slowly transformed itself into a flicker of a smug smile. Blotting the corners of her lips with her napkin, she replied, “I am afraid I cannot, Mama.”

Her mother gaped at her, and Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean you will not?” cried Mrs. Bennet. “I demand you fetch her at once, and do not venture to speak to me so, insolent girl!”

To this, Kitty replied, “I did not say I
would not
, Mama—only that I
cannot
, for Lydia is not to be found in her room this morning.”

This statement caught Mr. Bennet’s full attention, as well as that of every other person in the room, and his wife exclaimed, “What do you mean she is not in her room?! Where else would she possibly be found at such an hour?”

Kitty remained silent until her father’s patience had reached its limits. “Katherine! Explain yourself! Do you know where your sister is?”

She nodded, but any trace of amusement was now erased from her face. “Yes, sir.”

With some hesitation and downcast eyes, she surrendered to her father a folded missive written in Lydia’s flowing hand. Mr. Bennet read it and paled. “Good God,” he whispered as he handed the note to Darcy with a shaking hand. His son-in-law read it and, with a sound of disgust, thrust the missive toward his wife.

“Whatever does it say?” demanded Mrs. Bennet. “Is it from my dearest girl? Do not keep me in suspense! What does she have to say?”

Darcy glanced at Mr. Bennet, who sat stock still, holding his head between his hands. “Pray, enlighten your mother, Elizabeth, and read aloud what your sister had to say,” Darcy said with barely concealed contempt as he rose and strode to the window. She cleared her throat and, in an unsteady voice, complied.

Dear Kitty,

You will laugh when you awaken in the morning and find me gone, and if you cannot guess with whom, you are a simpleton, indeed, for there is but one man whom I love.

My dear Wickham asks that you conceal my absence as long as you can, and I confess, I am in complete agreement with him, for it will be such a good joke, will it not, when Lizzy and her droll Mr. Darcy hear that he has come for me at last, just as I knew he would, and in the dead of night, too? Is it not the most romantic thing you have ever heard? You must tell me how they both looked when next you see me, for Wickham and I would dearly love a good laugh at their expense. Tell Mama I will write if I can—though I am certain, as a married woman, that my husband shall engage me in far more pleasurable activities—and that she has my leave to inform the neighborhood of my impending marriage. I remain your loving sister,

L. B.

Mrs. Bennet’s shrieks easily overshadowed Jane’s and Mary’s horrified gasps. Mr. Bennet removed to his library, Darcy and Bingley hard on his heels. Elizabeth made to follow, but Darcy caught her hand and stopped her, his eyes communicating that her presence would not be allowed for this particular meeting. The door to the library closed upon her, and she found herself quite alone.

Mrs. Bennet, overcome with distress, retired to her room with the assistance of her faithful housekeeper. Kitty was left to her own devices, worrying over the blame she would shoulder for Lydia’s rash elopement. Since Elizabeth had taken up an agitated vigil outside her father’s library, it was left to Jane and Mary to attend their mother.

To Elizabeth, half the day seemed to pass before the gentlemen emerged, but in fact, it had been no more than three-quarters of an hour. When the door finally opened, she sprang from her chair and looked in expectation from her father’s grave face to that of her husband’s. With a nod from Mr. Bennet, Darcy led her by the hand to a small parlor and closed the door. Elizabeth gripped his hands and waited in silence for him to begin.

In a low voice he said, “Surely you must realize Wickham has not taken your sister to Scotland, Elizabeth. It is my belief they are most likely gone to London, and I have told your father as much. It may still be within our power to recover her, but we must act quickly. Colonel Fitzwilliam has many contacts there whom I believe can greatly benefit us in our search.” He scowled. “Having grown up with Wickham, I have knowledge of his habits and tendencies. From what I have witnessed in Hertfordshire, he has altered little, but much for the worse. With any luck, we will be able to locate them within a matter of a few days, though I would not hold out hope for your sister’s virtue, if it is, indeed, still intact.”