Chapter 29
“I always said that George Wickham was a rogue,” Mrs Bennet claimed as the whole family sat over tea in the parlour.
“I don’t think you did, Mother,” Elizabeth pointed out, exchanging doubtful looks with Jane. “He was at Longbourn for tea often enough.”
“With the other officers, yes. I could hardly stop him when they were invited, could I? Even if I tried, none of you would have listened to me. It was all Wickham this and Wickham that ever since he joined the regiment, regardless of what I thought.”
“Your powers of persuasion are legendary, my dear,” remarked Mr Bennet drily to his wife as he sipped at his cup. “What always amazes me most is your capacity to persuade yourself of a thing.”
Mrs Bennet looked suspiciously at him, grasping that she was being mocked in some way.
Elizabeth sighed. It felt as though their family had talked about nothing else all day.
Miss Bingley’s ruin had been the sole topic of conversation at luncheon and throughout the early afternoon, regardless of Jane’s obvious distress and Elizabeth’s disapproval.
Even Mr Bennet seemed to find the sorry affair a great source of humour.
“I wish we could talk of something else,” Jane said aloud, although little notice seemed to be taken of her pleas by the rest of the family.
“At least Mother has forgotten her disappointment in Lord Grantchester not coming to supper,” Elizabeth murmured to her sister. “That is the only silver lining in this cloud.”
“Will they marry in Meryton, do you think, Mother?” asked Lydia with thoughtless curiosity. “Or will they go back to London? I should like to see their wedding. What do you think Miss Bingley will wear?”
“It is all so dreadful,” commented Jane as her mother and younger sisters speculated on wedding dresses and how fast they might be made. “I’m sure it must all have been some terrible misunderstanding. Miss Bingley would never do such a thing, and how poor Mr Bingley must be suffering too.”
“It seems like even Miss Bingley could not resist a red coat,” Kitty giggled.
“Although she preferred to take it off,” Lydia remarked with unbecoming sauciness for a young girl, before the two youngest Bennets descended into unseemly laughter.
“Lydia, Kitty!” Elizabeth remonstrated with them, wishing that her parents would intervene, although neither seemed minded to do so.
“Do try to see that it is wrong to find humour in our neighbours’ troubles,” Jane pleaded gently with them.
“Fordyce has much to say on the subject of womanly decency, a great deal of which extends to humour, in my opinion,” Mary pronounced rather pompously, drawing groans and rolled eyes from the two offenders. “Modesty and quietness of speech are paramount —”
“I suppose Mr Wickham will be rich now and will leave the regiment,” Mrs Bennet thought aloud. “That is a shame, for regimentals do suit him.”
Exasperated by her family, Elizabeth stood.
“Wickham is a rogue, and he has somehow entrapped Miss Bingley for her money,” she declared rather fiercely.
“We should all pity her situation, not joke about it. If the Bingleys can find some way out of this, and I hope they will, I shall applaud them. Otherwise, there is nothing more to be said.”
While the ladies of the house fell temporarily silent at this outburst, Mr Bennet looked at his favourite child over the tops of his glasses.
“That seems as likely an explanation as I have heard, Lizzy,” her father mused.
“Still, I cannot share any optimism that the Bingleys might find any way out of the scandal other than Miss Bingley marrying this dubious character. Mr Bingley might be rich by Longbourn standards, but they’d need a title and a king’s ransom to walk away from this untouched. ”
At the next moment, a loud, determined knocking sounded at the door, clearly audible even from the parlour. Mrs Bennet ran to the window and peered outside.
“There is a fine horse tied up outside. Jane, it must be Lord Grantchester, come to take you back after all. Quick tidy your dress and let me pinch your cheeks. Lydia, Kitty, put all those bits of bonnet into the cupboard. Lizzy, go and meet him in the hallway and tell Hill to bring tea.”
While not sharing her mother’s confidence as to the identity of the caller, Elizabeth went to do her bidding. It might well be Lord Grantchester, come to report the success or failure of his mission at Netherfield, or Lord Keeble, bearing tidings on his behalf.
In her heart of hearts, Elizabeth wanted it to be another man entirely, and her pulse quickened perceptibly as her imagination conjured the image of a tall, dark figure striding into the house and declaring…
Declaring what? She stopped herself before she could put words into his mouth and then felt her own ridiculousness when she saw their actual visitor taking off his hat in the doorway.
“Mr Bingley,” Elizabeth greeted him with careful warmth after Hill had taken hat and coat and gone to prepare the tea. “Do come in. Are you alone?”
Elizabeth regretted the question almost as soon as she had asked it, and yet she could not stop herself from looking foolishly behind Mr Bingley for some absent companion. There was no need to complicate matters when he had likely had a difficult enough day already.
Their neighbour’s usually cheerful face was very grave and his whole body held very tightly as he bowed to Elizabeth.
Mr Bingley’s expression gave her no clue whether Lord Grantchester’s approach had yielded results yet, and it was too delicate a matter to ask outright, especially here at Longbourn.
“I am come alone,” he confirmed, bowing his greeting to her. “Mr Darcy is in Meryton…on business, and my sister is indisposed. I trust I am not disturbing you?”
“Not in the slightest. We are all in the parlour and everyone will be pleased to see you.”
Following Elizabeth through the house, Mr Bingley halted as soon as they were inside the doorway and scanned the room. His tense face softened a little when his eyes lighted on Jane, but he addressed her parents.
“Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet, might I have the privilege of speaking to Miss Bennet alone?” he requested, to general confusion in the room.
“I don’t see why not,” responded Mr Bennet with seeming unconcern. “Jane is a sensible girl, and her conversation is well worth the effort, as is Lizzy’s. I could not recommend any sensible man speaking alone with Lydia or Kitty, however, and Mary only under certain circumstances.”
Mrs Bennet glared at her husband while Mr Bingley listened to this eccentric monologue, a bewildered look coming into his previously determined eyes and rousing Elizabeth’s sympathy.
“Of course, Mr Bingley,” Mrs Bennet told him. “My younger girls and I were just going to the drawing room and Mr Bennet to his library. Lydia, Kitty, Mary, come along.”
“If you insist,” said Mr Bennet mildly, removing himself happily to his favourite place, while the youngest Bennets trooped after their mother.
“Elizabeth, you had better stay,” Mrs Bennet added with a meaningful look, and then bent down to whisper to her two eldest daughters.
“I suppose Mr Bingley wants to ask your advice about Miss Bingley, Jane, for you are most her friend. Tell him not to duel with Wickham, for he is bound to lose. Be sure to ask after Lord Grantchester too, and then leave him with Lizzy.”
If Jane had been listening to her mother’s instructions, she could not have made much sense of them.
As it was, Elizabeth saw that her sister’s entire attention was already on Mr Bingley.
Their smiles to one another were tentative but heartfelt, and they seemed to have already forgotten the existence of any other persons but each other.
Elizabeth too paid little heed to Mrs Bennet’s wishes, leaving the parlour after her sisters and closing the doors firmly behind her, despite her mother’s remonstrations in the passage outside.
“What are you doing?” railed Mrs Bennet. “Mr Bingley rides over here to see you, at a time of crisis in his family, and you walk away? This is your great opportunity to catch him. Even if Miss Bingley does have to lower herself to marry a mere soldier, they are still very rich.”
“Mr Bingley has not come to see me, Mother,” Elizabeth said firmly. “He might well want Jane’s advice, but he might also have other reasons for his call. Let it be for a few minutes and we shall see.”
“What shall we see?” Mrs Bennet continued her complaints all the way into the drawing room. “Oh, you will all be old maids, and when your father dies, we shall all be thrown into the streets to starve!”
Elizabeth suspected she felt the ticking of the clock in the drawing room more loudly than the other ladies of the house, since she was the only one aware of all that was at stake that day.
Jane’s happiness might be settled in that parlour with Mr Bingley, or not.
Miss Bingley’s fate might already have been sealed, one way or another, or still hanging in the balance.
Five minutes passed amidst the ticking and the grumbling from Mrs Bennet.
Just when Elizabeth felt she could take no more, the drawing room door opened and Jane stood there with Mr Bingley, their fair-headed faces radiant with happiness and looking as well-matched as two china figures on a mantelpiece.
“Mother, we are to be married,” Jane announced, to Elizabeth’s delight and Lydia and Kitty’s excitement.
Even now, Mrs Bennet was slow to grasp the situation. “Who is to be married? Did Mr Bingley bring word from Lord Grantchester?”
Elizabeth stood and came to her sister’s side, kissing Jane and smiling at Mr Bingley. “I wish you both joy,” she said simply, hoping that this would be clarity enough for her determinedly wrong-headed mother. “You are very suited to one another.”
“Mr Bingley is marrying Jane?” their mother finally realised, suddenly laughing and joining her younger daughters in their embraces and congratulations of the happy couple. “Dear me, how coy you have been, Jane! How secretly you young people go about your courting nowadays. What a surprise!”
“I should go and speak to your father,” Mr Bingley said to Jane, when he had managed to break away from his many excitable in-laws to be.
“Yes, yes, go and tell Mr Bennet, and we shall have the wedding as soon as you like, Mr Bingley. Tell him that five thousand pounds a year is not to be sniffed at, even with a scandal hanging over Netherfield.”
“Mother!” Jane objected, looking shocked at such a manner of referring to Caroline Bingley’s troubles. “Please!”
Elizabeth too felt her mother’s want of propriety and glanced towards Mr Bingley to see his reaction. To her surprise, his smile had only broadened at the mention of scandal.
“There is no scandal, Mrs Bennet, you will be glad to hear. My sister is to be married soon, however. You must all come to the wedding.”
“Ah, of course,” Mrs Bennet told him with a sympathetic nod.
“You have sorted matters out quickly, Mr Bingley. Well, that is just as well in these circumstances. Miss Bingley must make the best of it with Mr Wickham. When all is said and done, he is a fine figure of a man and matters might be worse if he were uglier.”
While Elizabeth despaired of her mother’s vulgar insensitivity, Jane and Mr Bingley only looked at one another and burst out laughing.
“Miss Bingley is to marry Lord Grantchester, Mother, not George Wickham,” Jane said. “Charles tells me that Lord Grantchester proposed to her this afternoon, and she has accepted him. I believe they will suit one another well, and I wish them joy.”
At this further thunderclap of news, Mrs Bennet was overcome and had to sit down in an armchair.
For her part, Elizabeth clapped her hands happily and congratulated Mr Bingley all over again.
One day, it might be interesting to learn if he realised the initiative had originally been hers, but for the moment, she neither knew nor cared.
A thwarted Wickham, a rescued Caroline Bingley, and a happy ending for Jane and Mr Bingley was reward enough.
“Dear me,” Mrs Bennet moaned, pulling out her lace handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. “I do not know whether to laugh or cry. Jane to marry Mr Bingley! Miss Bingley to be Countess of Grantchester and Jane happy for it! I am sure it is wonderful, but it all seems upside down to me.”
“Can we have new dresses for both of the weddings, Mother?” Lydia inquired. “I shall certainly need at least one, for I have grown again and am taller than all my sisters.”
“If Lydia has new dresses, then I ought to have them too,” Kitty put in petulantly.
“I require no new dresses, for I take good care of the ones I have and do not prostrate myself to my own vanity,” added Mary for good measure, only causing her younger sisters to pull faces at her.
Elizabeth hushed them all and patted her mother’s shoulder. It certainly was a great deal to take in all at once. Then, too, now that matters were settled so well for the Bingleys, it seemed likely that Mr Darcy and his sister would be able to leave for Pemberley tomorrow after all.
After this morning’s crisis, it had occurred to Elizabeth that he would have likely stayed at least a few days longer in support of his friend. Now there would be no need, and she sighed for it.
“Will you be at home this evening, Elizabeth?” Mr Bingley asked then, breaking in on her thoughts.
She nodded, wondering why he should ask this of her so specifically. Their whole family would be at home.
“Darcy asked me to tell you that he intends to call at Longbourn as soon as he returns from Meryton,” Jane’s newly betrothed went on to explain himself. “I believe he wishes to speak with you and would be sorry not to find you here.”
At this news, Elizabeth’s mouth ran dry, and she found she could make no reply beyond a nod. But as Mr Bingley and Jane had both slipped out towards the library without further ado, none was required.
“Why is Mr Darcy coming to Longbourn?” asked Mrs Bennet rather plaintively of her remaining daughters. “It is not as though any of us likes him.”
“I shall be glad to see him,” said Elizabeth quietly.
She could not answer her mother’s question, but in her heart, she felt she knew.