Trapped in Scandal

Chapter Twenty-Five

Elizabeth

15th October 1813

E lizabeth sat in the cosy parlour, her needlework resting in her lap, though she had made little progress. She found herself glancing towards the window every few moments, her thoughts drifting to her family. Despite the tranquillity of her surroundings, a sense of anticipation hovered in the room. She let out a soft sigh, refocusing on her stitching, when the door opened and Mr Darcy entered, a letter in his hand.

“Another letter from my mother?” Elizabeth asked, raising her brows with a small, knowing smile. “She must be running out of paper.”

“Not this time,” Mr Darcy said, his expression both serious and playful as he handed her the envelope. “It’s from Jane.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “Jane?” she repeated, taking the letter eagerly. Jane and Charles had returned from their honeymoon and had travelled on to Hertfordshire, taking up residence at Netherfield for a few months. She motioned to the chair opposite her, “Sit with me?”

Mr Darcy complied, settling into the chair with a graceful ease, watching her with a fond smile. “It’s been some time since Jane wrote directly, though I expect that she was fatigued from the journey. This must be news indeed.”

Elizabeth broke the seal, her fingers trembling slightly with excitement. She read silently at first, her eyes scanning the page rapidly. Then, without warning, she looked up.

Mr Darcy blinked, surprised by her sudden movement. “Is something the matter?”

Elizabeth didn’t answer immediately. She turned towards the door. “Georgiana!” she called, her voice light but urgent.

Moments later, Georgiana appeared, her cheeks flushed from hurrying. “Elizabeth? Is everything all right?” she asked, glancing between her brother and sister-in-law with wide eyes.

Elizabeth held up the letter. “It’s the baby.”

Georgiana gasped softly, stepping closer. “The baby?”

Elizabeth nodded, her voice now brimming with emotion. “It’s a boy. Lydia’s son was born a few days ago.”

“Oh!” Georgiana clasped her hands together, smiling with relief. “Is everyone well?”

“They are,” Elizabeth said. “But…” she hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Georgiana’s smile faltered. “What is it?”

Elizabeth glanced at Mr Darcy, who had risen from his chair, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “It seems that the child is the very image of Mr Wickham.”

Mr Darcy’s mouth twitched, a glint of irony in his eyes. “How unfortunate for the little boy, but lucky for your sister,” he murmured dryly.

Elizabeth shot him a wry look, “I think we can say both.” She glanced back at Georgiana. “Mama says there is no doubt. The child is Mr Wickham’s through and through—dark hair, the same eyes, even the same troublesome smile.”

Georgiana covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes widening. “Oh dear,” she whispered.

Mr Darcy crossed his arms, a bemused expression playing on his face. “And what has Wickham to say about this revelation? Is he properly apologetic for his behaviour?”

Elizabeth chuckled despite herself. “Surprisingly, Mr Wickham is overjoyed.”

Georgiana gasped again. “Overjoyed?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Apparently Papa wrote to him and told him that Lydia was staying at Longbourn, to the man’s credit he arrived within the week. According to Mama, he apologised to Lydia for doubting her. He’s been parading around Meryton as though he’s the Prince of Wales. He even gave a rather heartfelt speech to my father, declaring he had been foolish to have ever doubted the child was his.”

Mr Darcy raised a brow, his voice dripping with amusement. “Wickham apologised? Are we speaking of the same man?”

“I thought I misread the letter at first,” Elizabeth admitted with a grin. “But no, it is there in plain ink. He was so thrilled by the boy’s arrival that he has suddenly decided to become a devoted father.”

Georgiana sank into a nearby chair, blinking in astonishment. “How extraordinary,” she murmured. “I never thought Mr Wickham capable of such sincerity.”

Mr Darcy let out a soft chuckle, pacing slowly around the parlour. “Sincerity, or vanity? It seems even Wickham’s most devoted love is reserved for anything resembling himself.”

Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “I cannot deny there’s some truth in that. However, Lydia is overjoyed by his transformation. She seems to believe this is the beginning of a new chapter for them, so for that I am pleased. They plan to return to Newcastle in a fortnight.”

Georgiana frowned thoughtfully. “I thought Lydia was to stay with your parents for a while?”

“Now that she is reunited with her husband, she wishes to return home,” Elizabeth confirmed, folding the letter, and placing it on the table. “Mama will accompany her to help, she intends to stay for a while longer—at least until after the christening. Apparently, she feels it her duty to ensure that everything is done properly now that Mr Wickham has taken such a keen interest in his son.”

Mr Darcy groaned softly. “Heaven help Newcastle. Mrs Bennet and Wickham in one town, rejoicing together. I pity the locals.”

Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh. “I daresay the christening will be the most splendid event Newcastle has ever seen. Mama will make certain of it.”

Georgiana tilted her head, a thoughtful smile on her lips. “What name have they chosen for the child?”

Elizabeth’s expression softened. “Henry.”

“Henry?” Mr Darcy repeated. “It’s almost disappointingly sensible for them. I expected something grander, knowing your sister’s taste for embellishment.”

Elizabeth grinned. “I am sure Lydia had something silly in mind but I believe Mama was determined that the child should bear a name that carried weight and respectability, though she may have insisted it be pronounced with particular flourish.”

Mr Darcy smirked. “She must think it sounds aristocratic.”

“She probably imagines herself already announcing him at grand assemblies,” Elizabeth replied. “Mama does love a good spectacle.”

Georgiana, still smiling, glanced at her brother. “And what does Mr Bennet think of all this?”

Elizabeth’s smile softened as she looked back at the letter. “I think Papa is only happy that another scandal has been averted.”

Mr Darcy shook his head, a bemused sigh escaping him. “Your father is a long-suffering man and deserves some peace.”

Elizabeth sat back down, her hands resting on her lap. “It is a rather strange turn of events, is it not? After everything, Mr Wickham is now fully embracing his role as a father. Who would have imagined that?”

Mr Darcy stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Strange, yes. But perhaps this will be for the better. If Wickham returns to Newcastle with his family, it means he will stay far away from us.”

Elizabeth smiled up at him. “And Pemberley will remain Wickham-free.”

Georgiana laughed lightly. “That is something we can all celebrate.”

Mr Darcy squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulder, his voice warm. “Henry Wickham may never know it, but his birth might be the greatest gift Wickham has ever given us.”

The three shared a warm silence, the tension of the news fading into the comfort of their shared relief. The Bennet family had endured much, but now, even amidst the absurdity, there was peace.