Chapter 17
Elizabeth led Mr Darcy back into Longbourn with a mixture of relief and unease. The relief was for escaping the rising storm — the unease, for what Mr Darcy was about to say next. His expression clearly showed that the conversation would not be an easy one. The east parlour was warm and cosy compared with the drizzle of rain that started to fall as they reached the house. The fire crackled cheerily, chasing some of her anxiety away. She was grateful they had come in, for just as they had entered, the sky cracked with thunder, and the clouds let forth their bounty, sending rain thundering down in earnest. Elizabeth sat down near the hearth and called for another pot of tea to be brought.
“Is all well? I am sorry your walk was cut short by the rain, Lizzy,” Mrs Bennet asked as she poked her head into the parlour. “Thank goodness you had the sense to come back in time. Will you not rejoin the rest of us?”
“No, Mama. Thank you. Mr Darcy and I have some things to discuss.” Elizabeth folded her hands demurely in her lap.
“Oh, of course. I suppose there is nothing amiss with that, since you are engaged now. I shall send Cook in with the fresh pot of tea shortly.” Her mother gave her a concerned, albeit curious, look and then left the room.
“We shouldn’t be disturbed any further. I apologise for my mother. I know it may seem that she is a busybody, but she is only concerned for our welfare.” Elizabeth looked out the window and wished that they had been able to continue their walk. She sensed that whatever Mr Darcy had to reveal about Mr Wickham, it would not be pleasant, and he would not want listening ears to overhear.
“I shall try to convey the matter with as much tact as is possible. But I will warn you, the things I am about to tell you will shock you, even disgust you. However, I do not speak of them to besmirch an innocent man. I will not try to sway you. I will tell you the facts, and you can decide for yourself if my treatment of Mr Wickham is just.”
Elizabeth nodded her consent, then steeled herself for something very grave indeed. “I will do my best to listen without bias.”
Mr Darcy seemed to be relieved. After a deep breath, he began his tale. “Mr Wickham grew up almost in my own household. Indeed, it would not be too much to say that my father doted on him. The elder Mr Wickham was my father’s steward, and my father took a liking to the son almost as soon as they had been introduced. He could not have been more than five or six years old at the time.”
Elizabeth could not help the shock that surely was apparent on her face. “You grew up with Mr Wickham?”
“Indeed. I see that is a surprise to you, and I can understand it, given the cold greetings you have seen pass between us on the rare occasions when we meet.”
“I am indeed surprised,” Elizabeth agreed. “But please, go on. I said I would not interrupt, and already I have.”
“Do not fret about that,” Mr Darcy went on. “My father paid for his schooling and even sent him to Cambridge. When Mr Wickham came of age, my father promised him a living on the estate — a nearby parish — that would have done very well for a respectable young man, had he wished to go into the church.” Mr Darcy sighed and was about to go on when a knock announcing the fresh pot of tea was ready. Elizabeth hurried to the door, took the small tray from the maid, and closed the door again. She set the tray down and nodded for him to continue as she poured.
“My father had hoped that Mr Wickham would join the church, take holy orders, and settle down at the parish on the estate. However, I never felt that Mr Wickham was destined for the church, and knew from his character that it would not be a good fit for him. He is too wild — ” Mr Darcy again looked away. “Forgive me. I have promised to give no opinions, only the facts.”
Elizabeth could not help but admire his hesitation to speak ill of Mr Wickham, where obviously there was a history of hurt and resentment between them.
Mr Darcy went on. “His father passed away, and my own soon after. When my father was gone, Mr Wickham quickly came to me and demanded the value of the living, instead of taking holy orders. I gave it to him, thinking it a reasonable solution, as I was confident that Mr Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. It amounted to three thousand pounds.”
Elizabeth gasped inwardly at such a sum. Mr Darcy had certainly been generous.
“He went away almost immediately. I did not see him again until a year later, only to learn that he had squandered the whole of it. In fact, Mr Wickham had come back only to demand more. He stated he wanted to study the law. But I did not believe him. Had Mr Wickham truly intended to study the law, three thousand pounds would have been an ample provision.” Mr Darcy hesitated, his eyes filled with such pain that Elizabeth wished she could reach out and offer some semblance of comfort. But their engagement was no more than a technicality. It would be foolish to attempt it. “I refused him. He left in a rage, and we did not see him again for several years.”
Elizabeth shook her head in disgust. “After such intemperate greed and ingratitude, I can only imagine that his absence was a relief.”
Mr Darcy shrugged slightly. “As I said, we heard nothing from him, until there was a very painful incident last year.” He hesitated again, and Elizabeth felt she could do nothing but sit on the edge of her seat, waiting in suspense. Her stomach roiled with every possible horrible scenario.
Yet nothing could have prepared her for the truth.
“He attempted to elope with my sister, Georgiana, when she was just sixteen. There was not the slightest chance that his affection was sincere, for he waited until he could see her away from her family, with only a hired companion to watch over her…a hired companion who, I later learned, had forged all her references and was a confederate of Wickham himself. He intended to have Georgiana’s dowry, and he was willing to ruin an innocent girl who fondly remembered him from her childhood to do it. If I had not happened to surprise Georgiana with a visit on the eve of the intended elopement, it would have succeeded.”
Elizabeth felt faint with horror. How Mr Wickham could have treated Miss Darcy so deplorably, and still had the gall to show his face in the country, was beyond her. “I cannot believe it,” she breathed.
“It is all true,” Mr Darcy said. “I have tried to shield my sister from anyone knowing of the scandal — or what would have been a scandal and surely would have meant the ruination of her good name. She is a very innocent girl, Miss Elizabeth, and had acted in the purest trust and confidence. This incident has all but taken the life out of her. She used to be so full of spirit and joy, and now she is a shell of her former self.”
“I am so sorry, Mr Darcy. I did not mean to say I did not believe your side of the story, only that I cannot bring myself to terms with Mr Wickham treating your sister in such a way. The man ought to be strung up by his toes!”
Mr Darcy smiled rather grimly. “Believe me, I wanted to. Then again, the whole matter would have had to have been aired publicly, and I could not bring myself to do that to Georgiana. It was essential to her reputation and future happiness that the matter be kept as quiet as possible. I hope you will not judge Georgiana too harshly. She was only sixteen at the time, so trusting of humanity. This experience has taught her the hard way that one cannot always trust what one sees on the outside. That is why I said earlier that charm is deceiving.”
“I would never judge Miss Darcy for something that was not her doing. She was deceived, just as you said.” Indeed, judgement towards Miss Darcy had been far from Elizabeth’s thoughts, which were consumed with anger that Mr Wickham had almost succeeded in ruining Miss Darcy’s life, and that he was still on the loose to do so to other unsuspecting women. Indeed, if she had not ended up engaged to Mr Darcy, she herself might have fallen prey to his charms. Elizabeth could not claim to have seen through Mr Wickham’s facade — at least, not at first.
“Thank you for saying so. I should very much like to introduce you to Georgiana on day,” Mr Darcy said. “She needs a female friend who would be a beneficial influence on her — perhaps assist her in leaving behind the sorrow that oppresses her.”
“She took it very hard then, as can only be imagined?” Elizabeth asked softly. And to have no mother with which to speak of such things. Surely, Georgiana would not have confided everything to her brother. There were some things that only a woman could understand.
Mr Darcy nodded solemnly. “She was crushed. For weeks after I brought her home, she barely left her bed, let alone the comfort and safety of her room. The doctors were so worried that they wanted to bleed her, but I would not allow it.” He shook his head at the memories no doubt filling his mind. “Foolish as it was, my sister loved Mr Wickham with her whole soul. There might have been a happier end to this story, if only Mr Wickham’s heart were genuine. If he had truly loved Georgiana, she might have been the making of him. Perhaps she could have helped him remember the lad he had been all those years ago. I know I paint a grim picture of him, but we were friends, once. When we were boys, there was much good to be said of him. I believe his father’s death changed him.”
“Of course. It is rare that children start out as depraved as they grow up to be.”
Mr Darcy sighed again and changed the subject. “At any rate, I hope you and Georgiana will become close once we are married. She badly needs a friend.”
Elizabeth raised a brow. It was uncertain whether the wedding would go forward, though it was hardly the time to point that out. If it did, she would be glad to take Miss Darcy under her wing and help bring her out of her misery, if she could. “I would be deeply honoured to meet your sister. From what you have told me, I am sure we would be fast friends.”
Mr Darcy’s face brightened a bit. “I am sure of it. Georgiana is shy at first, but when she gets to know people, she has a warm and caring heart.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Will she come to Meryton soon? I am sure she misses you terribly.”
“Yes, she will travel here for the wedding — if there is to be a wedding,” he said softly.
Elizabeth took up her teacup and sipped for a moment. The steaming tea travelled down her throat and brought warmth back to her bones. She had not realised how chilled she had grown since they had been sitting in the parlour. Even with the fire burning, the cold seeped in through the glass windowpanes. She scooted closer to the fire, and Mr Darcy did the same. “That is the question, isn’t it? What are we going to do, Mr Darcy? If we cannot prove our innocence, I suppose we shall have to go through with the wedding.”
To her surprise, the idea was becoming less and less appalling to her. The more she got to know Mr Darcy, the more she came to admire his character, his intelligence. Once, it had been her most fervent belief that he was not a man of good temper or warm heart, but deeper knowledge had shown her it could not be so. It was not a man of bad temper who had so readily forgiven her for their misunderstanding over Mr Wickham, and so readily apologised for his part in it. It was not a cold-hearted man who spoke so warmly and lovingly of his little sister. Perhaps it would not be so bad after all to be Mrs Darcy.
“I will not leave you unprotected. I promised you that from the very beginning, and I am a man of my word, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr Darcy pinned her with his piercing gaze, and she felt the swirl of butterflies when he did not look away. “Even if this is not the kind of marriage either of us had pictured.”
Elizabeth let out a long breath. “No. Indeed, it is not.”
“I suppose I am not the sort of man you wanted to end up with,” Mr Darcy said. His voice was surprisingly gentle. “What had you imagined?”
The very great intimacy of the question caught Elizabeth off guard. She blinked, setting aside her cup. “I am not sure. I suppose I always dreamed of a husband with whom I could share my innermost thoughts without judgement. Someone I could count on as a true friend. After all, marriage is for life. One’s partner should be someone they share a friendship with, not only a household and children. I always wanted to know that I could share an openness with my future husband.”
“I agree.” Mr Darcy said with a slight smile.
“And what of you? I suppose you always dreamed of a blonde beauty?”
“Why do you say that?” Mr Darcy asked.
“No reason,” Elizabeth said. “I suppose I have always seen men falling over themselves for the fairer beauties, rather than the dark and mysterious. But perhaps it is only my limited experience, having seen little of the world.”
Mr Darcy sighed, thinking for a moment. “I do not think I have any great preference for the colour of a wife’s hair. The specifics of a woman’s appearance have never been as important to me as someone who showed genuine intelligence. After all, beauty fades, but the mind — the soul of a person — that is what will last. Though, if I am being honest, I must say I have always preferred dark eyes to light ones.”
He surprised a slight laugh out of Elizabeth. “That is fortunate, as my eyes are dark.”
“Indeed it is,” Mr Darcy agreed. He thought for a moment. “I suppose I always imagined marrying a woman who was a profound reader, and being able to discuss things that truly mattered in the world.”
Elizabeth smiled at this. Though she would not lay claim to being a profound reader, she did enjoy reading. “Well, it is fortunate for you I am fond of literature. Sadly, I fall short in the profundity of the books I enjoy, but perhaps you might guide my taste and recommend the works you consider most worthy. At least, I shall endeavour to read more.”
“And I shall endeavour to be more open,” Mr Darcy replied.
Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. She had not intended to propose a kind of quid pro quo, nor indeed to express a criticism. But he had listened to her, truly listened to her, and perceived where he fell short of her ideal. It spoke well of him that he would so readily acknowledge the deficit and try to correct it.
Mr Darcy gave a self-deprecating laugh. He looked embarrassed. With a little thrill, Elizabeth realised he had never shown his feelings so openly before in all the time of their acquaintance. “Miss Elizabeth, I wonder if I might broach something with you that has long been on my mind?” he asked.
Elizabeth shifted, turning slightly toward him to show he had her full attention. “But of course, Mr Darcy. What is it?”
“Well, I am curious to know what you think of Miss Bennet’s feelings toward Mr Bingley. I confess, I have watched them closely since coming to Meryton, and I am convinced that my friend admires her very much. However, I am unsure if her affection is equal to his.”
Elizabeth was only too glad to express an opinion on the matter. Mr Darcy’s openness deserved a return, and if he intended to bring her opinion back to his friend, Jane could only benefit. “It is only natural that you would doubt Jane’s affection for him. Reserve, coupled to a general good cheer, is the very essence of her character. I know that my sister may seem indifferent. But I assure you that is not the case. She is only shy, and rightly cautious in expressing the depth of her feelings. Society is not kind to a woman who says too much of what she feels. In confidence between us, I will go so far as to express my belief that she is well on her way to falling in love with him.”
“You are sure?” Mr Darcy asked. “I am glad I asked, Miss Elizabeth. Doubtless it will not come as a surprise to you that Miss Bingley has voiced concerns of the same nature as I have just done. However, I know that not everyone can be expected to be a fool in love. I admire your sister for showing such fortitude and grace whenever we have been in company.”
“I suppose we are all fools in love, in one way or another,” Elizabeth replied. It was no surprise that Miss Bingley had voiced concerns over the match. However, she suspected it was not for the reason Mr Darcy had indicated. She was sure that the family would want the only son and heir of the Bingley fortune to marry well above his current station. But what was status when one was in love?
“Yes, I suppose. Well, I shall ask Bingley to invite your whole family up to Netherfield. It is time we all got to know each other better, I think.”
His offer surprised Elizabeth. “It is good of you to do. It will give a chance for Jane to enjoy the pleasure of Mr Bingley’s company. She will be very well pleased,” Elizabeth smiled.
“If Miss Bennet is pleased by the invitation, I am glad of it,” Mr Darcy said, “but I must confess this was far from my intention. Rather, I shall suggest the meeting so that I might enjoy the pleasure of your company.”
Elizabeth instantly felt the heat rush into her cheeks. She had never thought of Mr Darcy as a flirtatious man. But his steady gaze and wicked smile made her wonder if he was trying his hand at it. She was struck by how handsome he truly was.
In a sense, perhaps, it was a shame. Mr Darcy had everything — an attractive person, great superiority of mind, wealth, connections. She felt for him. It would be unfortunate if they were forced to marry, for society at large would surely see it as a pity that he had wasted himself on a simple country gentlewoman with nothing more than a tolerably pretty face and a little wit to recommend her.