Chapter 19
“That was a long sigh, Lizzie,” Mr Gardiner remarked as their plates were taken away from the supper table. Thankfully, his expression was more curious than anxious. “Have you something on your mind? You’re not sickening too, I trust. Your complexion seems too rosy for that.”
Upon hearing her uncle’s question, Elizabeth abruptly realised she had been staring out of the dining room window somewhat rudely, considering that there were only two of them at supper tonight. Sitting up straighter in her chair, she returned her uncle’s smile.
“No, I am perfectly well, only tired, Uncle,” Elizabeth claimed.
She could not truthfully deny having something on her mind, or rather, two things.
Both were letters, and she wished to discuss neither.
First was the reply sent by Jane to Lord Grantchester, the key points of which Elizabeth remained ignorant.
Second was the letter delivered into her own hand by Mr Darcy, its contents now very familiar to her after several readings, and impossible to put from her mind.
“And worried about Jane, I’ll warrant,” her uncle suggested, looking at her with compassionate eyes.
“There’s no need, I’m sure. Dr Groves was very confident in her recovery as long as she followed his instructions.
When we saw her off this morning, Jane looked far better already, did not you think?
Your aunt will take good care of her on the journey, too. ”
“Oh, I know,” Elizabeth answered quickly, not wishing to give any additional care to her kind uncle. “Jane was looking very much better today, and there is no one I would trust more to attend her than our aunt. The very thought of country air must be working on her, I think.”
Elizabeth had tried and failed to link Jane’s improvement to her response to Lord Grantchester’s letter and thereby deduce her sister’s answer to it.
Had Jane agreed to break her engagement and was now relieved of the tension of uncertainty, even if her heart was breaking? Or had she insisted on keeping the engagement and was feeling joyful in her resolution, regardless of her husband-to-be’s doubts?
“Good, good — stewed plums!” Mr Gardiner commented, half to his niece and half to the maid now serving their dessert.
“Well, let us talk of cheerful things so that your aunt does not find us in low spirits when she returns from Hertfordshire tomorrow. Are you looking forward to the music and picnic in Hyde Park? Autumn might be around the corner, but August is the hottest month.”
They talked lightly for a while of the weather, the musical program, and what picnic food should be packed.
Elizabeth suggested that she should go to Hyde Park the following morning and see how the event was being set up so that they should easily find a good spot for their party to settle. Mr Gardiner had many ideas to consider.
But all the while they were talking, Elizabeth could not help her thoughts turning from Jane’s letter to Mr Darcy’s. To her embarrassment, she could feel her cheeks warming again with her thoughts and giving them the rosiness her uncle had observed.
The letter had contained no renewal of the sentiments Mr Darcy had professed at the Suttonfield ball, thankfully.
Nor had his manner on delivering the letter led Elizabeth to believe that his astonishing declarations could have been anything but a moment of madness, perhaps spurred on by the free-flowing champagne.
Instead, the first part of the letter contained equally remarkable assertions about the character and life of Mr Wickham, once almost Mr Darcy’s foster brother and now a sworn enemy.
…While it is your privilege to judge my character as you will, based on my own actions and the promptings of your mind and conscience, I beg that you will not do so on the basis of false information provided to you by Mr George Wickham, the most unprincipled scoundrel ever to have entered my family circle…
If Mr Darcy’s account was reliable, George Wickham was indeed a blackguard and rake of the first order, and a determined gold digger and pursuer of rich heiresses besides.
He had left a trail of ruined reputations, broken hearts, and gambling debts across both Derbyshire and Cambridgeshire before the awful events that led Mr Darcy to sever their ties forever.
It was the tale of Mr Wickham’s relatively recent attempt to elope with Georgiana Darcy that had horrified Elizabeth the most, even as it had convinced her of the credibility of Mr Darcy’s letter in its entirety.
She was sure that he would never make up such a story about his sister, and could only guess at the strong feelings that prompted him to share it at all.
…Thankfully, I came to Ramsgate in time to foil the elopement.
Georgiana confessed all to me, and Wickham was permanently and irrevocably banished.
He was dislodged from our lives with unsurprising ease once it was made clear that he could never touch a penny of the thirty thousand pounds Georgiana stands to inherit.
She was not yet sixteen years old at this date…
Elizabeth shuddered, thinking both of Miss King’s lucky escape and of the predatory nature of any grown man who would take advantage of such a young girl’s affections.
Lydia was only just fifteen and no more fit for marriage and making a home than she was for practising the law or trick-riding with a circus pony.
Hot shame washed over Elizabeth when she thought of how unfairly she had charged Mr Darcy over his conduct towards George Wickham.
She had been duped, just as a thousand others had been duped before her, it seemed.
This was no excuse, however, for someone who prided themselves on their sharp mind and quick wit. Elizabeth should have known better.
Why had she believed George Wickham’s stories so easily?
Was it only that he had a pleasing face, an easy manner, and looked well in a red coat?
If so, Elizabeth was no better than Lydia or Kitty.
She supposed she had also been flattered by his confidences and already quite determined to believe the worst of Mr Darcy, despite knowing so little about him.
Upon such revelations, such new understandings, Elizabeth thought that her heart might have softened considerably toward Mr Darcy… if, that is, he had not gone on to write a final two pages of his letter on the subject of Jane’s engagement.
I now address another grave charge you have laid unfairly against me.
You have several times accused me of opposing your sister’s marriage to Lord Grantchester on account of my own personal prejudices and a narrow-minded, too-great regard for rank and wealth.
Yes, you are correct that I oppose this marriage utterly.
Nor do I deny that I have encouraged Lord Grantchester to end the engagement.
While I cannot honourably reveal the reasons for such strong opposition, I ask you to believe that they are not so worldly as you think, but rather matters of strongly held moral principle.
I have great respect for Miss Bennet. I hope your sister will find happiness in marriage, but I do not believe this can ever be the case if her husband is Lord Grantchester.
Had she ever met such an infuriating man?
“Lizzy?” questioned her puzzled uncle, and Elizabeth realised she had set her wineglass down hard on the table and was scowling at an imagined Mr Darcy. “Do you not think we should take boiled eggs? The children do like them and they’re easy for the kitchen to prepare.”
Sighing apologetically, Elizabeth took up her spoon to tackle her stewed fruit. “Yes, the eggs are a good idea. I’m sorry, Uncle. I seem to be rather distracted tonight.”
“Was it your letter?” he asked his startled niece in a conversation tone. “Your aunt told me about your friend Charlotte marrying Mr Collins.”
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head, her confusion at her uncle’s uncanny insight resolved.
“No, I think I have recovered from that particular astonishment and wrote to wish Charlotte well. It is …another friend this time. One’s friends can say and do the most remarkable, maddening things, can’t they?
” she returned with deliberate vagueness.
“I don’t know what to make of people sometimes. ”
“People can be very difficult to understand,” her uncle sympathised, as Elizabeth found herself bemused by her own choice of words.
Was Fitzwilliam Darcy her friend? Elizabeth was not at all sure that he was, or would want to be.
Yet, with the confidences his letter had placed in her, and her frank conversations with him, he somehow felt more of an intimate than many others she might more easily and carelessly accept into her circle.
Then, where on earth did his peculiar proposal fit in? It was all such a tangle!
“I should not make such quick judgements about the people I meet,” Elizabeth admitted ruefully, telling as much of the truth as she was willing to discuss. “They turn out to be very complicated, and it comes back to haunt me.”
“We all judge quickly when we are young. Still, I expect everything will be well in the end, both with Charlotte and your other friend, whoever she is,” he added encouragingly. “You will see.”
Elizabeth nodded and said nothing to correct her uncle’s misapprehension.
∞∞∞
The next day, after spending the morning hours with the Gardiner children, Elizabeth took a cab to Hyde Park.
It was a little late for the fashionable crowd to be promenading, but there were still a few ladies and gentlemen of her casual acquaintance to be seen, and civil nods exchanged.
In the absence of Lord Grantchester and Jane, Elizabeth hardly expected to be acknowledged any more than this.
Before long, however, she realised she was drawing more personal attention than she had anticipated.
More than nodding, a few ladies actually stared or exchanged words with their companions upon spotting Elizabeth.
Eventually, the half-overheard whispers seemed to confirm what she had already begun to suspect.
“That’s her sister. Don’t look!”
“The engagement is broken…”
“Do you think she found out…?”
So, Mr Darcy had achieved his goal. Jane had indeed done as Lord Grantchester asked and called off the marriage. Impossible, infuriating, self-righteous man! She hoped he was already on his way to Pemberley and would not have the satisfaction of learning of his triumph for at least another week.
For a brief moment, Elizabeth managed to summon her old intensity of anger against Mr Darcy on Jane’s behalf, but it quickly fizzled and died, leaving her saddened more than angry.
Since his letter to her, it had become harder and harder to dislike Mr Darcy.
He more puzzled Elizabeth now, and somehow intrigued her too.
She set him aside as an insoluble problem and focused on Jane instead.
News like this always travelled fast. Evidentially, it had already spread across London.
Elizabeth supposed that Lord Grantchester must have informed his friends, and they had passed it on.
It was as well that Jane was not here to be exposed to such indelicate gossiping.
Still, Elizabeth must write and warn her.
If their mother had not already been informed of her dashed hopes – Mrs Bennet’s as much as Jane’s – now was the time that it must be done. What even greater weeping, wailing, and vapours would result if she learned the news from strangers?
Cheeks burning but head held high, Elizabeth continued her walk.