Chapter Thirteen
Georgiana remained hesitant about traveling to Hertfordshire; therefore, the colonel had suggested that they travel to Longbourn on Tuesday rather than Wednesday. “In that manner, I may return Georgie to London if we learn that the Wickhams are expected for the wedding.”
Darcy grumbled, “I have warned the Bennets I will leave if Mr. Wickham makes an appearance, even if Miss Bennet is ruined.” Darcy actually was not happy to return early, for he would have preferred not to see Miss Elizabeth any more than necessary but, nevertheless, he agreed with his cousin’s suggestion to send the Bennets an express on Monday to inform them of his and his family’s desire to return on Tuesday.
Later, that same afternoon, Mr. Bennet opened the letter from Mr. Darcy. “What does he want now?” Elizabeth asked.
Her father handed it off to her to read. “Dear God, what are we to do?” she asked after quickly skimming through the short message.
“I cannot refuse without an explanation,” her father deduced.
“Then tell him the truth. Tell him the man he most despises in the world has arrived at Longbourn because your wife remains insensible to anyone’s wishes but her own, despite her having convinced her eldest daughter to marry a man that Jane does not love nor does said man love our sweet Jane in return.”
Her father presented Elizabeth with an odd look. “I am accustomed to your occasional surliness, but that little speech was something more than your impatience with your mother in your tone.”
“It is nothing of significance,” she was quick to say. “I am simply exhausted by Lydia’s whining about being left behind by Mr. Wickham and mama’s insistence that she should be permitted to entertain Mrs. Long and Aunt Philips and others while Lydia is with us.”
“Are you speaking the truth, Elizabeth?” her father asked with skepticism in his tone.
She shrugged. “This whole business has been a disaster.”
“I do not believe your mother’s latest fit of ‘nerves’ is the source of your discontent, but I will not press you for the ‘truth’ at this time. Let us determine my response to Mr. Darcy. He wishes to bring his sister with him, as well as his cousin again. Miss Darcy has expressed a desire to greet Jane before the wedding.”
“When would Mr. Darcy arrive?” she asked. “Other than Tuesday, it does not state the time in the letter.” She read his message again and marveled at the crispness of his handwriting. “ Very much like the man speaks ,” she thought. After another minute of contemplation, she said, “As you said, I was being sarcastic when I purported that we should inform him of Mr. Wickham’s presence in Hertfordshire, but the truth is essential in this matter.” Elizabeth paused before saying, “Mr. Darcy would not wish to expose his young sister to Mr. Wickham’s presence. There is a long history between Mr. Darcy and Lydia’s husband. We cannot guarantee Mr. Wickham will actually arrive by Monday, as he initially agreed. He has never kept his word on anything unless it benefited him.”
“So what are you suggesting?” her father asked.
“I know you despise London, but could Jane and Mr. Darcy not marry equally as easily in London as in Meryton? He purchased a common license. They could marry in Mr. Darcy’s church in the City.”
“What of Lydia?” Mr. Bennet asked.
Elizabeth sighed heavily. “As Mama invited her, it should be Mrs. Bennet who stays home with her.”
“You wish me never to have another peaceful day!” her father commented with a chuckle. “Though I like the way you think, my girl.” He studied her suggestion. “I suppose if Mr. Darcy is agreeable with the idea of switching the church, we could stay with the Gardiners or even at a hotel. We would leave mid-afternoon on Tuesday and return to Longbourn after the wedding on Thursday. Such would not be ideal, but it would be manageable.”
“And if Mr. Wickham does not return by Tuesday afternoon?” Elizabeth asked.
“I will send both your mother and Lydia to stay with the Philips and provide your uncle strict orders not to permit them from the house until I return.”
Elizabeth smiled easily at his jest. “Seriously, what will you do?”
“I suppose I could stay here,” her father said, though Elizabeth heard the disappointment in his voice. “Your Uncle Gardiner can give Jane away, just as he did with Lydia.”
“No!” Elizabeth argued. “Jane is your first-born. You must attend her wedding. If Mr. Wickham does not return, I shall remain with Lydia. Neither my youngest sister nor the lieutenant would dare to contradict me.”
“Are you confident, Elizabeth? I know it would grieve you greatly not to attend Jane’s big day.”
It would grieve her more to stand witness to Jane marrying the one man Elizabeth had ever desired, but she said, “It shall be my wedding gift to Jane and Mr. Darcy—not to have their marriage ceremony interrupted by the appearance of the Wickhams,” she professed, when, in reality, she was protecting her own heart.
“What does Mr. Bennet write?” the colonel asked.
Darcy was still studying the last few lines of the message which spoke of Miss Elizabeth’s possible absence, which had him again regretting his choice to marry Miss Jane Bennet. “Though Mr. Wickham is supposed to return to Hertfordshire on Monday afternoon and depart on Tuesday morning, Mr. Bennet expects Mr. Wickham’s return will not occur until Tuesday morning, because, like you and I, the man knows Mr. Wickham’s promise to return on Monday is written with invisible ink.
“If Mr. Wickham does return, they will set off for London Tuesday afternoon and stay in London at a hotel or with the Gardiners. This decision was made with the assumption that the ceremony could take place at St George of Hanover on Thursday and to prevent the Wickhams from staying close and showing themselves at Mr. Williamson’s church in Meryton. Such would be typical for Wickham.”
“At least Mr. Bennet is acting with concern for your animosity against Wickham, but what if Wickham does not return on Tuesday morning, as he has promised. We both know the dastard always places himself above all others.”
“Miss Elizabeth has agreed to remain at Longbourn with Mrs. Wickham, while the others come to London,” Darcy said while attempting to disguise how deeply this news affected him.
“I had hoped,” Fitzwilliam said, “that Georgiana could develop a relationship with Miss Elizabeth. Your sister still is frightened by the shadows of the past. She could learn a great deal from Miss Elizabeth Bennet, skills that would do our girl well in the future. The world is changing with every blink of our eyes. It is becoming smaller—more compact—and the lines between classes are blurred. Your sister’s success in marriage and life depend upon eliminating her timidness, or, at a minimum, bolstering her confidence in some situations.”
“And we both know Georgiana is not likely to learn those qualities at Miss Bennet’s hands,” Darcy admitted aloud what his heart repeated daily. He scrubbed his face with his dry hands. “Do you know the only time Miss Bennet smiled genuinely on our outings was the day we encountered Charles Bingley in the park. On that first evening of our acquaintance, she and Bingley had talked extensively about his taking Netherfield Park.”
“His taking the estate would have been a good choice if Bingley wished to have a group supporting his success as a landowner. I told you how impressed I was by all Miss Elizabeth and her father had shared,” Fitzwilliam reminded him.
“Mr. Bingley favors Miss Bennet, and I believe he holds similar sentiments,” Darcy admitted aloud what his conscience already knew. “The lady only showed me a bit of affection after Mr. Bingley told us he would not consider Netherfield Park. I was her second choice.”
“Such does not mean Miss Bennet cannot come to admire and love you,” Fitzwilliam argued.
“No. Affection is not possible. She is my ‘make the best of the situation’ choice, and, likewise, I am hers. Her heart was set on one of my best friends. I will lose Bingley as a steady companion, and I must set my mind on begetting an heir on a woman who, despite her fine countenance, does not stir my soul.”
“What are you to do, Darcy?” his cousin asked in concern.
“Duty,” Darcy said as he stood. “Duty to my father’s legacy. Duty to Georgiana, my future wife, and my children. Duty to all but myself.” He sucked in a deep breath to steady his regard. “Please pardon me. I should speak to Mr. Thacker and my housekeeper. Georgiana and I should host the Bennets and the Gardiners on Wednesday evening for supper and again on Thursday for a wedding breakfast, as well as I must call at St George to learn if the rector can accommodate my marriage to Miss Bennet on this upcoming Thursday morning.”
Elizabeth had followed her sisters up the stairs to Mary’s quarters, though she was not happy to deliver her news. “Oh, Elizabeth,” Mary said, when Elizabeth entered the room. “I thought you were with Papa. We would have asked you to join us. Kitty means to assist me in sorting out all my ribbons and lace.” The family had returned from Sunday services with Lydia in tow and pouting at not being permitted any freedom to converse with others in the neighborhood.
“I was with Papa,” she said, as she closed the door behind her. “Mr. Bennet wished me to speak to you.”
“Have we executed something to displease him?” Kitty asked in concern.
“Nothing of the sort,” Elizabeth assured. “Both Mr. Bennet and I fear Mr. Wickham will not return for Lydia on Monday, as he has promised. Therefore, alternate plans have been made.”
“I do not understand,” Kitty admitted.
“I am not confident I do either,” Elizabeth assured with a smile. “If all goes well, Mr. Wickham will return for Lydia late Monday or early Tuesday. If so, you and I and Mama and Papa, along with Jane, will travel to London Tuesday afternoon. Uncle Philips has offered his coach for this venture, so we will not all be crammed into Papa’s. Papa has let a suite of rooms near Uncle Gardiner’s house. After a series of express correspondence between Papa and Mr. Darcy, the gentleman has made arrangements at St George of Hanover for the ceremony.”
“Married in London?” Kitty asked in amazement. “How grand!”
Elizabeth did not agree with her sister’s enthusiasm, but she did not voice her complaints.
“You two must set aside clothes in which to travel to London, clothes to wear during the day on Wednesday and for supper at Darcy House that same day, as well as what you will wear for the wedding. You must do so without Lydia’s or Mama’s or Jane’s knowledge. Jane will already be preparing her trousseau, and Mrs. Hill will arrange for Mama’s trunks.”
Mary’s frown lines deepened. “I understand the necessity of keeping our actions secret from Lydia and Mama and to a certain extent from Jane, however, what happens if Mr. Wickham does not return on Tuesday morning?”
“Then the rest of you will leave for London, and I shall become Lydia’s ‘governess’ and ‘companion’ for several days or until your return on Thursday,” she explained.
“I can stay with Lydia,” both of her sisters chorused. “I do not mind,” Mary continued.
Elizabeth shook off the idea. “Both Lydia and Mr. Wickham half fear me. They shall not dare to cross my orders.”
“But you should be in London to say your farewells to Mr. Darcy and to Jane,” Mary insisted.
“Shush,” Elizabeth warned, while Kitty said, “I do not understand.”
Mary declared, “It is Elizabeth who loves Mr. Darcy.”
“What?” Kitty exclaimed as Elizabeth attempted to prevent Mary from disclosing everything.
“I do not love Mr. Darcy,” she declared.
“Then you are excessively fond of him,” Mary argued.
“Even if I did—and I do not—the gentleman is engaged to marry our Jane. I could not think of confessing my affections to our sister,” Elizabeth declared. “And neither will you. Promise me that you will never breathe a word of this to anyone. Our family cannot suffer further scandal. Jane shall make her sacrifice, and I shall make mine. Promise me this all remains among us three.”
“We promise,” her sisters said as they encircled her in a group embrace.
Darcy left Darcy House on Tuesday, before breaking his fast. He had slept very little last evening. Even when he did dream, it was of kissing Miss Elizabeth Bennet, not her sister. He was sorrowful that he had not done so when he had the chance within his quarters at Longbourn, though doing so would haunt him forever equally as well as not doing so. It would be wonderful if he could simply switch out one sister for another, but such would cause a scandal, not that he would care much for the gossip if he could escort Miss Elizabeth to Pemberley and not return to London for several years.
“I could claim everyone had been mistaken in which sister I had chosen,” he reasoned aloud when no one was about.
Before he returned home, Darcy meant to call upon Bingley. There were words of apology to speak. “A confession of how I recognized Bingley’s interest in Miss Bennet but pursued her, nevertheless. It shan’t settle the rift between us, but an apology should be spoken, despite how difficult it will be. My father would expect me to act with honor.”
Ironically, while crossing the avenue and park trail to speak again to the rector at St George regarding the arrangements on who to expect to attend and such, he spotted Bingley’s approach from the opposite side. Darcy swallowed his trepidation and waited for his friend’s approach.
“Good day, Darcy,” Bingley said as he reined in beside him.
“I had planned to call upon you today,” Darcy admitted.
“How so?” Bingley asked.
“First, I wished to express my gratitude for your removing Mr. Wickham from the area last week. I know you have little use for the man, but you performed with exemplary foresight and manners.”
Bingley shrugged his response. “You were in distress. I could do little else. We are friends, are we not?”
Darcy looked off to the tree line. “I always thought we were,” he admitted, “but I have not acted as a friend to you where Miss Bennet is concerned.”
Bingley shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. “I cannot disagree with your choice of wives. I have never viewed someone more beautiful.”
Darcy felt as if he was the villain in a poorly-played theatrical production. “You should know the truth. I require a wife now in order to save Pemberley. I must have an heir before my thirtieth birthday. Miss Bennet’s family has known shame with the elopement of the youngest sister with Mr. Wickham. We, the lady and I, have made a bargain based on need, not on affection. I would like to think I would have chosen differently if I had recognized your interest in the woman, but I believe I would still have put my father’s legacy and the lives of nearly one thousand souls who depend on Pemberley for their livelihood before your interest in the woman. She has done likewise to save her sisters and her mother, for Mr. Bennet’s estate is entailed upon another line of the family tree. I realize I will lose your companionship, but, hopefully, you will understand the need for a ‘devil’s bargain’ between the lady and me.”
Darcy was not to learn Bingley’s ire or his forgiveness, for an explosion of sorts filled the air, and Darcy found himself swaying in the saddle. Hot metal found a plate in his shoulder. He attempted to stay in his seat, but he knew he had lost the battle when his body slammed into the hard earth.
He heard Bingley screaming for assistance as his friend hovered over Darcy, shoving him to the ground and holding him there while the blood seeped through Darcy’s riding jacket and stained the grass upon which he laid.