Chapter XII
Seeing Lydia so silent and chastened was a singular event for the family at Longbourn. Elizabeth knew it would not last long, especially with her father speaking of hiring a companion, but for the moment, she was determined to make the most of it.
“So, you can see,” said Mr. Bennet after explaining the events of the morning, “not only has Mr. Wickham proven to be a debtor, but his conduct toward Mary King was no less than mercenary.”
Lydia said nothing, which was probably for the best. Mr. Bennet noted this, but he was not finished speaking.
“It is fortunate, indeed, that Mary King has such conscientious protectors, but even more fortunate that she distracted Wickham. Given the tales we heard of his exploits toward the ladies, matters might have been much worse if he had focused his attentions elsewhere.”
As Mr. Bennet was gazing at Lydia when he said this, no one in the room, least of all the girl in question, could misunderstand his meaning.
Lydia, to her credit, grimaced at this further evidence of her former favorite’s ways, but she did not speak.
Mr. Bennet nodded to himself and allowed the subject to rest. That opened the door for Mrs. Bennet to turn the discussion to what she considered important.
“That Mr. Bingley has returned is excellent news! It must be a compliment to you, Jane.”
“Yes, I can imagine it is,” said Mr. Bennet. “Now that he understands I will not allow casual flirtations followed by another hasty departure, I suspect you may achieve your design of marrying one of your daughters to a man of consequence.”
Mrs. Bennet frowned at her husband, uncertain of his meaning. Mr. Bennet did not hesitate to explain.
“I spoke with Mr. Bingley to ensure he knew the gravity of his responsibility, Mrs. Bennet. If he does not commit to his pursuit of our Jane, he would do well to retreat from the field at once.”
With a shrug, Mr. Bennet added before his wife could erupt in histrionics: “He has assured me of his intention to follow through, so you need not worry. I suspect he will not shirk.”
Mrs. Bennet did not scruple to hide her opinion on the subject, not that she was capable of hiding anything.
Though appalled that her husband had risked chasing Mr. Bingley away, his assurance that Mr. Bingley had not fled in terror heartened her.
The subject of her next comments was not at all palatable to Elizabeth’s feelings.
“And you may induce Mr. Darcy to renew his proposal to you, Lizzy.”
Mrs. Bennet shot Elizabeth a glare that suggested she must do everything in her power to secure Mr. Darcy.
There was no reason to tell her mother that her reasons for rejecting Mr. Darcy were still in force—in fact, there was every reason to demur, not the least of which was the argument it would provoke.
Thus, Elizabeth chose discretion and offered her mother a noncommittal response that seemed to satisfy her.
“That is my cue to seek my study,” said Mr. Bennet when Mrs. Bennet spoke of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy’s return, what sort of girl Miss Darcy was, and what she could do to hurry them along. “Lizzy, come with me, for I have one more thing I would like to ask.”
Though curious, Elizabeth assented. Mrs. Bennet might have wished to have Elizabeth close at hand, but did not protest her going, her thoughts already turning to Mr. Bingley.
Mr. Bennet led them to his study, and when they were inside with the sturdy oak door closed behind them, he gestured for Elizabeth to sit.
“I beg your pardon, Lizzy, for this is a matter that is not my concern. Call it the curiosity of a man who sometimes notices more than he should.”
Elizabeth nodded. “What would you like to know?”
“When Wickham claimed he compromised Miss Darcy, I not only saw Darcy’s fury and a hint of trepidation from his sister before she mastered it, but you stepped forward to discredit him. Am I correct to assume that there is some basis to his claim and that you know of it?”
Elizabeth could not quite determine what she should say.
That her father was perceptive enough to have noticed was no surprise, nor was his interest in the matter and his obvious determination to keep it from the rest of the family.
Mrs. Bennet and Lydia had loose lips and would betray the truth in a moment of inattention.
It seemed her pause had confirmed it, for Mr. Bennet sat back in his chair, considering.
“If you wish, there is no need to confirm it—your silence is answer enough. As Mr. Wickham still draws breath, I must assume that he failed. The most curious part of this is that Mr. Darcy told you—that is what I cannot quite make out.”
“There is some validity to Mr. Wickham’s claims,” said Elizabeth, “though I am not at liberty to say anything more.”
“Nor did I think you were.” Mr. Bennet shrugged. “As I said, it is not my concern, though it explains Darcy’s antipathy for Mr. Wickham.”
“It was in place long before that, Papa.” Elizabeth paused, considering what she should say.
“When I refused Mr. Darcy’s proposal, I commented on his supposed treatment of Mr. Wickham.
That provoked Mr. Darcy to lay the whole of his history with Mr. Wickham before me—what happened with Miss Darcy was part of that. ”
“I suspected something of that nature, Lizzy,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Yet it still astounds me that Mr. Darcy shared such a close family secret with you.”
Helpless, Elizabeth could do little more than shake her head. “No more surprised than I was to receive it. Though Mr. Darcy has not said as much, I suspect he shared it because he felt it essential, both to secure my belief and to emphasize the danger Mr. Wickham presented.”
A slow nod was her father’s response, accompanied by the tapping of his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I must suppose it accomplished its purpose.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I cannot say you are incorrect. For a man such as Mr. Darcy to share such a thing reaffirms its truth—no man would spread such things about his sister unless it was both true and he deemed it absolutely essential.”
“Then that is all I need to know,” said Mr. Bennet. “Should word of Mr. Wickham’s charges gain interest in the community, we may act to discredit it. Beyond that, it is a curiosity and nothing more.”
“I hope our neighbors are sensible enough to set it aside,” said Elizabeth.
“You might hope that, Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet, “but sense and gossip never seems to exist in tandem.”
Then Mr. Bennet turned a grin on her. “Now, Lizzy, I am curious, for our Netherfield neighbors are to join us for dinner tonight. I cannot but suppose you are anticipating it—your mother knows about Mr. Darcy’s proposal and will not hesitate to rescue the situation as she deems it.”
Elizabeth shook her head at his teasing. “Do not remind me, Papa. I regret that Lydia made me so furious that I forgot all about discretion.”
“Yes, she has that effect,” Mr. Bennet agreed. “What shall you do to deflect your mother?”
“There is little I can do,” said Elizabeth, sighing in regret. “Anything I say will only provoke her further.”
“And Mr. Darcy might prefer to provoke your mother.” Mr. Bennet nudged her hand. “From what I saw of the gentleman today, the admiration has not departed.”
Elizabeth regarded him, skeptical. “Do you suppose that a man once rejected will press his suit again?”
“All I suggest,” replied her father, this time a little pointed, “is that you remain open to the possibility.” Mr. Bennet leaned forward and took her hand. “Lizzy, your reaction to Mr. Darcy has always been intense, but I do not think you have always judged him properly.”
“You are correct, of course,” replied Elizabeth, feeling her cheeks heating. “When Mr. Darcy proposed, I leveled two charges at him, both of which have been resolved.” At Mr. Bennet’s curiosity, Elizabeth added: “The matter of Mr. Wickham and Mr. Bingley’s absence.”
“Then what do you have left to resent?” asked her father.
“Only his general incivility and his insult at the first assembly.”
“Those are concerns,” acknowledged Mr. Bennet.
“The question you should ask yourself is what provoked them. There is no need to answer at once, but should Mr. Darcy stay and make his continued interest plain, you would do well to understand him better. Should Mr. Darcy renew his addresses—and I am not convinced he will not—that will be critical to your decision of whether to accept him.”
“That is good advice, Papa.”
Mr. Bennet offered her a fond smile, squeezing her hand before releasing it. “I should hope so. Give the man a chance, Lizzy—you can only gain from it.”
AS ALWAYS, MR. BENNET’S advice was sound.
Elizabeth had no more notion of favoring Mr. Darcy than she had before, but she could not be so opposed to him in light of recent events.
By the time the Netherfield party arrived for dinner that evening, Elizabeth had passed resignation into curiosity to see how Mr. Darcy behaved.
“How wonderful it is to see you returned!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet when Mr. Bingley greeted her. “I hope your welcome has been all you expected.”
“It has,” agreed Mr. Bingley, his usual good humor displayed for all to see. “Then again, our welcome consists of this evening at Longbourn, and I am not displeased at all, I assure you.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes then fell on Mr. Darcy, though she did not speak at once.
Elizabeth thought she understood—Mrs. Bennet had never liked Mr. Darcy and was perhaps even a little in awe of a man who was not only the grandson of an earl but had proposed to one of her daughters.
Yet for Mrs. Bennet, the most important consideration was that proposal.
How she should treat a man she had disdained and, perhaps more important to her mother, how to induce him to propose again, was beyond her comprehension.