Chapter 1 #2
Elizabeth longed to confide in Jane about the letter, about the tumult in her heart, but the words stuck in her throat.
How could she burden her sister with Mr Darcy’s revelations when Jane’s own hopes had been so cruelly dashed and her heart was still in pieces?
And what could she tell her? The subject of Miss Darcy was not to be revealed to any living soul, and Mr Darcy’s interference in separating her from Mr Bingley would only hurt Jane more.
“There is something I learnt in Kent that might shock you. Something about Mr Wickham,” Elizabeth said, then suddenly stopped at a knock on the door. Mrs Gardiner entered, smiling widely.
“Girls, may I enter? The children are all asleep, and hopefully so is Miss Lucas. I hope we might have a little time to chat by ourselves.”
“Of course, Aunt,” Elizabeth answered, and the ladies all took seats by the fireplace.
“Lizzy was just about to tell me something about Mr Wickham,” Jane said, and Mrs Gardiner widened her eyes, then frowned.
“I hope you did not do anything imprudent, Lizzy. I know you favour Mr Wickham, but you should consider—”
“Dear aunt, do not worry. The only imprudent decision I made was to give Mr Wickham more credit than he deserved when we first met. I have recently learnt that his character is as faulty as his manners are charming and that he is inclined towards deception just as he is inclined to smile.”
Both her companions stared at Elizabeth in shock.
“What could you possibly mean, Lizzy?” Jane asked, dumbfounded.
“That Mr Wickham has all the appearance of goodness but not much real goodness in him.”
“But how? What could you have learnt to cause you such a drastic change of heart?” Mrs Gardiner asked, her brow creased in confusion.
“I shall tell you, and you may judge for yourself,” Elizabeth replied.
With a moment of hesitation, a deep breath, and a careful choice of every word, still uncertain whether she was correct in making the disclosure, Elizabeth revealed the details of Mr Wickham’s past dealings with Mr Darcy.
As she spoke, her sister and aunt looked increasingly surprised, puzzled, and appalled. Even without any mention of Miss Darcy, Mr Wickham’s history with Mr Darcy was enough reason to disgust any honourable person.
“Dear Lord! Are you certain there has not been some sort of mistake?” Jane asked.
“I am utterly certain. Mr Darcy himself told me when I confronted him about his cruel behaviour towards Mr Wickham. You can imagine how ridiculous I felt once I understood that I had been deceived.”
“Dear Lord!” Jane repeated. “You confronted Mr Darcy? Why did you do such a thing, Lizzy? Poor Mr Darcy! And Poor Mr Wickham! Could he truly be so vicious? He appears so kind, so amiable…”
“Perhaps that is the worst part,” Mrs Gardiner said, her voice sharp. “That Mr Wickham possesses a few good qualities that he skilfully uses to conceal his vicious character. I confess I did not suspect him in the slightest. I found him nothing but charming when I met him in Hertfordshire.”
“I am somewhat relieved to hear that, Aunt,” Elizabeth replied bitterly, “as it makes me feel less foolish. If someone as wise and prudent as you liked Mr Wickham, I have some excuse for my silliness.”
“You were not silly, Lizzy. We all liked Mr Wickham,” Jane said.
“And most people probably still do because they remain ignorant to the truth,” Mrs Gardiner said.
“What do you think, Aunt? Should I expose him?”
“I am not certain, Lizzy… As dreadful as the reality is, perhaps he has finally decided to change his life and to make amends for his past errors by becoming an officer. Perhaps he deserves a second chance…”
“I believe everyone deserves a second chance, even Mr Wickham,” Jane declared.
“Besides, if Mr Darcy wished to expose him, he would have done so himself while he was in Hertfordshire, would he not?” Mrs Gardiner asked.
“That is true, Aunt. Then I shall say nothing for now and give Mr Wickham a chance to show me that he has improved.”
“Or perhaps you should ask Mr Darcy what to do, next time you see him.”
“I doubt I shall see Mr Darcy again soon — if ever,” Elizabeth said. “But I am glad we spoke about this delicate matter — it was burdening me, and I needed someone trustworthy to share it with.”
“I am glad you did, too, Lizzy. May I discuss it with your uncle?” Mrs Gardiner asked.
“Of course. There is nobody I trust more than you and Uncle.”
“Thank you, Lizzy. Oh, speaking of your uncle — who is not just trustworthy but also generous and caring — I have some good news,” Mrs Gardiner added with a smile.
“He has purchased tickets to the theatre for a performance of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing in three days’ time.
So you can look forward to some entertainment and leave all your distressing thoughts behind,” the lady concluded.
Elizabeth and Jane embraced her with affection and gratitude. Their hearts were still heavy with a torment that no play could palliate; however, the prospect of a night at the theatre was enchanting nevertheless.
Dinner was a pleasant affair, and Elizabeth’s spirits improved a little. Yet later that night, when Jane was asleep but Elizabeth was still restless, her thoughts returned to Mr Darcy and all the questions surrounding him.
Was he engaged to his cousin? Would she see him again?
If she did, what was she to tell him? The remembrance of that day at the parsonage was so vivid, with his tall figure, his piercing eyes that had gazed upon her with such intensity, his hoarse yet steady voice declaring his love that had overcome his better judgment, even his will.
Her cheeks burned and her heart raced, and she scolded herself severely. Foolish girl that you are! He is a proud and disagreeable man, and you refused him soundly. Let that be the end of it. You should stop thinking about the past unless its remembrance brings you pleasure!
Her voice of reason was loud but not strong enough to change her mind, nor to soothe her tumult, and she needed another hour of recollections and self-recrimination before she finally fell asleep.