Chapter 13 #2
Tea and cakes were summoned, while Mr Gardiner poured each gentleman a bit of brandy.
The conversation flowed easily. Mr Bingley’s eyes kept straying to Jane, who contrived to look everywhere but directly at him, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her.
Lydia watched the scene with a sullen pout, arms crossed over her chest.
Mr Bingley set down his cup with determination. “The weather is so uncommonly fine. Might I prevail upon you all to join me for a turn in the park? The children would enjoy it, I am sure, and fresh air is the best tonic after so much…indoors.”
Jane glanced at Elizabeth, who nodded with a conspiratorial smile. Lydia muttered something about her poor ankle, but no one pressed her to join them.
“Your uncle has business to attend to, and I should remain with Lydia,” Mrs Gardiner responded, “but I am sure Jane and Elizabeth would be happy to oblige. Are you sure the children will not trouble you?”
“Not at all, Aunt. You know how much I enjoy their company,” Elizabeth answered.
Thus, the little party set out: Mr Bingley and Jane walking a decorous few paces ahead, Elizabeth shepherding her young cousins behind. The park was alive with the soft chatter of birds and the rustle of bare branches promising buds.
Elizabeth kept her distance, giving the couple privacy while pretending great interest in her cousins’ games.
She stole glances forwards: Jane’s head inclined towards Mr Bingley, her laughter soft and musical; Mr Bingley gestured animatedly, then paused to offer his arm with touching solicitude.
They spoke earnestly, heads close together. Then, quite suddenly, they turned back.
Jane’s face was radiant — positively luminous. Mr Bingley wore the broadest, most foolish grin Elizabeth had ever seen on a grown man. They walked quickly now, almost hurrying, as though some delightful secret propelled their steps.
Elizabeth’s heart gave a joyful leap. She knew that look. She had seen it on other happy couples, though never so sweetly as now on her sister’s countenance. A proposal — surely! And it had been accepted!
They reached Gracechurch Street in high spirits. Mrs Gardiner immediately took the children to the nursery to change; Lydia was resting in her room.
Mr Bingley at once asked for leave to speak privately with Mr Bennet. The two gentlemen disappeared into the library for about half an hour, while Jane whispered her happiness to a tearful Elizabeth.
Soon afterwards, Mrs Gardiner returned to the party, and all waited eagerly, Jane grasping Elizabeth’s hand tightly. Eventually, the door opened again. Mr Bennet emerged first, looking equal parts amused and resigned.
“Well, my dears,” he announced, “it appears we are to have a wedding. Mr Bingley has done us the honour of requesting Jane’s hand.
I confess I have told him plainly about the scandal that presently surrounds our family and asked him to consider the matter thoroughly.
Apparently, he was already aware of our circumstances, but he was not to be deterred from his plan.
Mr Bingley is one of the finest men I have ever met, and quite in love with Jane. ”
“Papa!” Jane whispered, blushing becomingly while gazing at her betrothed. Mr Bingley laughed outright, delighted.
“I confess Darcy told me what happened. When he first went in search of Wickham and Miss Lydia, he confided in me and asked that I search for some of that scoundrel’s creditors to assure them they would be paid. I admit I intended to propose that very day, but I had to delay my intentions.”
“You choose the perfect moment to propose, Mr Bingley,” Mrs Gardiner said, then the room erupted in congratulations and cheering.
“So it is true?” Lydia’s voice suddenly interrupted them. She was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, expression black, supporting herself on the doorframe.
“So Jane is to marry Mr Bingley after all,” she said loudly, cutting through the rejoicing like a knife.
“Just as George said she would. And if I had married George, Mr Bingley would have been my brother and could have supported him — paid his debts, found him a living. But now everything is spoilt!”
The room froze.
Jane’s colour vanished. Elizabeth felt heat rush to her face in mortified fury. Mr Bingley blinked, dumbfounded.
Mr Bennet’s expression darkened to something quite alarming.
“Lydia,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet, “mind your words.”
“But—”
“Mind. Your. Words.” He advanced a step, leaning on his stick.
“That man is a lazy, depraved scoundrel who would ruin any woman foolish enough to tie herself to him. I would never allow you marry him, especially now that Mr Bingley has generously taken away the danger of ruin from our family. I would not have allowed this kind, honourable man to give that scoundrel a penny! No brother-in-law on earth — not Mr Bingley, not the Prince Regent himself — would ever support such disgusting idleness and vice.”
Lydia’s lip trembled, and she burst into noisy tears.
“You cry, but you have no sense to learn from your foolishness. You shame us all over again with every word you speak. Go to your room and stay there until you learn wiser speech!”
Lydia cried louder, looked about for help that did not come, then limped from the room, slamming the door behind her.
An awkward silence followed. Mr Bingley cleared his throat. “I…ah…perhaps I should—”
“No, no,” Mr Bennet waved a weary hand. “Stay, I beg you. You are family now. We shall weather these little storms together.”
Mr Bingley remained another hour but declined the invitation for dinner that evening.
After his departure, the family continued to discuss the happy, most unexpected outcome that none of them had hoped to occur.
That night, when the house had quieted, Jane could not sleep; her happiness turned into restlessness.
“Can you believe he proposed, Lizzy? How could I have doubted him? He is such an excellent man! He said the scandal was nothing compared with his regard for me. He will return to Hertfordshire with us, reopen Netherfield at once, and marry me as soon as the banns can be read. He was so determined, so earnest! I fear his sisters will be furious and raise many objections, but he said Mr Darcy supports him.”
“Then all my fears for you were needless. He is worthy of you, Jane. Utterly,” Elizabeth replied, her heart pounding at every mention of Mr Darcy’s name.
Jane sighed, blissful. “I think I shall never stop smiling.”
Yet she did so shortly after, when she finally fell into a deep sleep.
Elizabeth was not so fortunate, as she struggled for most of the night and only caught a little sleep when the daylight broke through the windows.
∞∞∞
The next morning, at breakfast, Lydia was still upset, and still nobody indulged her except with some casual conversation.
“I have decided we shall return to Longbourn tomorrow,” Mr Bennet suddenly declared.
“Jane’s engagement will, I trust, cast a more flattering light upon recent events than Lydia’s folly ever could.
We shall tell everyone that Lydia travelled no farther than London, where she was immediately reunited with her family.
We shall see in the coming months if there are any consequences of her elopement.
If there are, we might take Mr Darcy’s offer into consideration. ”
“What consequences? What offer?” Lydia asked. “And where is George?”
Mr Bennet heaved a great sigh. “I shall allow your mother to explain to you in more detail once we are home. As for Wickham, he cannot expect to leave debts everywhere he goes, deceive people, elope with a gentleman’s young daughter, and face no consequences.”
“So I shall never see him again?”
“With God’s will, none of us will,” Mr Bennet replied harshly. “I am heartily sick of London and of George Wickham!”
Scarcely had the decision been made than the knocker sounded again. Mr Darcy entered, grave, composed, accompanied by Mr Bingley, who looked as though he had not slept from sheer happiness.
Greetings were cheerfully exchanged; Mr Darcy congratulated Jane while he glanced at Elizabeth repeatedly.
“Gentlemen,” Mr Bennet said after a while, “if you will step into the library, we shall settle the final particulars of this wretched business.”
“I was about to suggest the same thing,” Mr Darcy responded.
The four gentlemen disappeared into the library once more. Elizabeth lingered in the hall, restless, curious, her heart performing an alarming series of somersaults at the mere thought of Mr Darcy so near. What final arrangements were being made? Would Mr Wickham be imprisoned?
She paced, despite her aunt’s repeated invitation to sit. She straightened a picture that needed no straightening. She waited, ears straining for the sound of voices, for any hint of what was transpiring behind that closed door.
At last it opened. Mr Bennet emerged first, looking tired but resolute. Behind him came Mr Bingley, still beaming, and Mr Darcy, whose dark eyes found hers at once and held them for one long, unreadable moment before he looked away.
Elizabeth’s breath caught. Whatever had been decided, her father would tell her soon enough. But in that brief exchange of glances, she felt the familiar, delicious ache of hope renewed — and the quiet terror that it might yet prove to be in vain.
The gentlemen stayed for another hour, but only neutral subjects were discussed.
Mr Darcy conveyed to Jane the heartfelt congratulations of Miss Georgiana Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and wished them a safe journey back home.
At Mr Bennet’s enquiry about his presence at Netherfield and an upcoming reunion, Mr Darcy answered that his plans were not yet settled.
Elizabeth met his eyes again for another instant but had no time to read anything in his dark gaze.
Then the guests left, taking a friendly farewell, with Mr Bingley’s promise that he would come at the earliest hour the following day to begin the journey back to Hertfordshire.