Chapter 9
The morning found Darcy even more agitated than the previous evening.
Late last night he had received an express from his cousin the colonel, informing him that there were rumours among the officers of his acquaintance about Wickham’s death and that his history and dealings with Darcy had been mentioned too.
The colonel’s tone was no different from usual — more jocular than the situation would require, revealing that the colonel’s compassion for the passing of an old associate had been largely overcome by his resentment for Wickham.
Darcy knew rather than feeling it that in his case it was the same.
Oddly, the resentment was less important now, and Darcy wondered idly if the militia would indeed see to Wickham’s remains when the coroner finished his report — as Colonel Forster had mentioned in passing — and in which parish the burial would take place.
It was a sorry end, without a bereaved family or true friends.
Darcy knew he had to communicate his decision to Mr Bennet, but it was not made yet, not even after a restless night.
He admitted that Elizabeth’s confession might end any speculations unpleasant for him and his reputation, but he still felt more concerned about her wellbeing.
His reasoning told him that it was not his right to worry about something that her father had approved of, and that she was not doing it for him but to satisfy her sense of truth, which was an admirable motivation on its own.
In the middle of his musings, Marston entered with a note from Mr Bennet. He opened it and read it impatiently, realising that the decision had been taken from him already.
He resisted the impulse to go to Longbourn, which would have been equally foolishly and improper. He had to repeat to himself several times that, in the end, the decision belonged to Elizabeth and her father, and they only had the courtesy to inform him prior to taking any action.
During breakfast, he spoke little; Bingley’s sisters’ affected manners riled him so much that they stalled his civility and he purposely ignored them.
He grew more impatient by the minute, wondering whether Elizabeth had already gone to Meryton to meet the magistrate; he would have liked to send Mr Bennet a note but he dared not, deciding it would be better to wait.
And his thoughts kept returning to Elizabeth — all the time — for one reason or another.
Even when he had been angry and jealous after hearing Wickham’s claims, when he had discovered that Elizabeth despised him and had a certain preference towards Wickham, his feelings for her had not changed.
How was it possible that he had fallen in love — so ridiculously, helplessly, deeply, consummately — with a woman he had known for only two months?
It was beyond his reasoning. But it was a truth that neither his mind nor his heart would allow him to deny.
“I wonder how long this madness will last so we can eventually return to London!” Caroline asked, loud enough to rouse him from his thoughts.
“I cannot wait to be gone!” Louisa continued. “We are already a week late! Charles, have you spoken to Colonel Forster? Why on Earth are we still here? Nobody can forbid us to leave! How can we help a deceased man we have never met before?”
“I am deeply sorry for ruining your plans,” Darcy answered sternly, understanding Mrs Hurst’s enquiry had not been addressed to Charles but himself.
“Nobody is forcing any of us to stay. As I have said several times, my presence is necessary, not yours. I was closely acquainted with Wickham and one of the last people to see him alive, so it is assumed I might provide some information to help solve the mystery of his death.”
“What annoys me,” Bingley interjected, “is that you were so kind as to offer your knowledge and confess your involvement with Wickham, and now some people might accuse you and question your honesty.”
“Whatever do you mean? Question his honesty? How dare they? And to accuse you? Preposterous!” Caroline said, again interfering in the conversation.
“Well, apparently Darcy was the last person known to have encountered Wickham, and they fought over some past dealings. Wickham was not seen after that until he was discovered lifeless, and some people would argue that Darcy had reasons to hurt him.”
“Oh, that is ridiculous!” Louisa declared.
“It is ridiculous, of course,” Bingley admitted. “No person in their right mind would believe that. But you know how gossip spreads!”
“Yes, yes, we know how it works! Especially in the country, where people have nothing to do but speak nonsense! One more reason to leave as soon as we can!”
“My dear sister, gossip spreads as fast or even faster in London, I dare say,” Bingley disagreed.
“Even if we do leave, the gossip will only grow in our absence. But I cannot understand why you three refuse to go through with your plans to leave, only to argue daily that you want to be gone! You truly have no business staying longer against your will!”
Darcy listened dispassionately, as though he was a stranger to the conversation.
He was displeased with Bingley for starting and carrying on that conversation with his sisters, and as much as he disliked having his circumstances discussed over the breakfast table, he could not very well blame his friend since he had not requested secrecy.
“I hope you have not delayed your departure for other reasons, Charles! And as readily as you push us to leave this place, I wonder if… Well, I hope you will not do anything imprudent.”
“What do you mean, Caroline?”
“We all know what I mean, Charles!” Caroline retorted, throwing up her hands in exasperation. “Especially since you have visited Longbourn so often in recent days.”
“Are you counting my visits now, Caroline? I am at an age when I should not need to ask for my sisters’ approval for my daily plans. Or anyone’s, for that matter! And do not worry, I shall not do anything imprudent. Any action I take will be carefully thought out.”
“I hope you are not considering any actions that might involve the Bennet family.” Caroline was not going to let the matter lie.
“As sweet and pretty as Jane Bennet might be, her family is pitiful and annoying. A gentleman in your position should look for more appropriate connections. Do not forget yourself! Even Mr Darcy agreed with us — you may ask him.”
Finally, Darcy favoured them with a few words, his tone calm yet distant, just as his countenance was expressionless.
“I did agree that Bingley should be cautious in making decisions for his future based on a short acquaintance. But the events of the last few days have taught me that it is not my business to interfere in other people’s affairs.
I have also learnt that I should be cautious in judging people whom I barely know.
Any advice I might have given Bingley a week ago, I am now using for myself. ”
“There. We are all clear then!” Bingley concluded, only to be ignored by a fuming Caroline.
“Yes, but you agreed how horrible the Bennets were! How can you allow Charles to entertain any notions that he might connect himself to them? I remember your comments about them and their connections. I particularly recollect you saying one evening after they dined—”
“Miss Bingley, it is neither my prerogative nor yours to allow Bingley anything. He is a grown man, living in the world and capable of making his own decisions and taking any action he deems necessary. If one disagrees with his actions, one may express an opinion but nothing more. As for the Bennet family, I do remember my earlier comments. While I still disapprove of some of their manners, it is not my place to comment on them, as I cannot claim my behaviour was flawless either. My estimation of them, and indeed the whole neighbourhood, has vastly changed lately based on new observations and additional interaction.”
“But, Mr Darcy—”
“Miss Bingley, I will thank you to desist with this conversation, which is truly unsettling for me, at least until I am not present. Even more so since the defence of my good name may depend on some of the Bennets’ actions. Please excuse me, I shall go for a ride,” he concluded.
“Wait, I shall come with you,” Bingley called, and they both exited the room in haste with not a single glance back at the enraged sisters.
***
Elizabeth sat close to her father on Colonel Forster’s sofa while the colonel and the magistrate, sitting on facing chairs, listened to them, thoughtful and not a little incredulous.
Having previously agreed upon meeting them and apprehensive of the peculiar circumstances, the colonel offered the use of his sitting room as an impromptu investigation room in order to afford Miss Bennet the privacy demanded.
Half an hour had passed since Elizabeth had started to relate her story, supported by her father, and Sir Gifford had asked for more and more details.
With time passing and the number of questions, she was starting to feel tired and irritated, feeling her words were being met with doubt.
“Miss Bennet, you said you happened to be in that exact place by pure chance?” the magistrate asked.
“Such a coincidence is rather strange. And how could they not have seen you? It was daylight already even if early in the morning. It is winter, there are no leaves on the trees, no thick bushes to allow you to hide.”
“Sir, I could explain it to you again or we might walk together now to Oakham Mount and you can see the place with your own eyes,” Elizabeth answered impatiently.
“Do not count on me, I can barely make it to Meryton by carriage,” Mr Bennet said drolly. “But the two of you may walk with Lizzy, I am sure you can keep pace with her.”
A bit annoyed with her father and his propensity to make sport of every situation, Elizabeth ignored his attempt at levity.