Chapter 10
“Good gracious!” cried Maria, as the carriage left Hunsford behind. “It seems but a day or two since we first came, and yet how many things have happened!”
“A great many indeed,” said Elizabeth with a sigh.
“How much I shall have to tell!” Maria said animatedly.
Elizabeth privately added, “And how much I shall have to conceal.”
Their journey was accomplished with little conversation and no alarm, and within three hours of their leaving Hunsford, they reached London.
Elizabeth looked outside to see the familiar surroundings but was surprised to see they were driving along the edge of Hyde Park.
She said nothing, assuming the coachmen knew their duties.
At length, they stopped on an unfamiliar street in front of an impressive, white building.
Before they had time to ask, the door opened, and Jane ran to greet her, followed by Mrs Gardiner and her four children.
“Lizzy dearest, I am so happy to see you!” Jane uttered, embracing her tenderly while her cousins cried their joy as well.
“Welcome, Lizzy darling. And Miss Lucas—please enter,” Mrs Gardiner said.
“But, Aunt, where are we?” Elizabeth asked, puzzled, as Maria looked around with astonishment.
“It is my brother’s house, my dear—the one he rented a couple of months ago.”
“I knew Mr Wilson rented a house on Park Lane, but I did not recognize the street as we came by carriage. I wonder if I have ever walked in this part of Hyde Park. This is…much more than I imagined.”
“Indeed, Lizzy. And wait to see the rooms; they are truly wonderful. Extraordinary,” Jane said.
“This is as beautiful as Rosings,” Maria whispered, lost for words. “I have never lived in such a house. May I stay here too? Or do I have to return to Meryton?”
Mrs Gardiner patted her hand kindly. “Of course you may stay, dear. Everything is according to plan except the location. I prepared some refreshments; you must be hungry. Then I shall show you to your chambers so you can refresh yourselves and perhaps rest a little before dinner. We have many things to discuss and plenty of time to do so.”
“But, Aunt, shall we not go home today?” Elizabeth asked.
“Home? To Gracechurch Street? No, my darling. We shall stay here for the present.”
Puzzled, Elizabeth glanced around the large, impressive chamber, realizing it could host a small private ball.
“There was a tragedy in our neighbourhood,” Mrs Gardiner explained as she invited them into the drawing room.
At her aunt’s words, she gasped. “What tragedy?”
“Do you remember our neighbours from Gracechurch Street—the Lewisham family?”
“Of course I do…”
“There was a fire in their house four days ago. Nobody knows what happened. We just woke up from the light in the middle of the night.”
“Dear Lord, were they injured?”
“Not really. Fortunately, everyone is safe, just desperate and scared. Their house was burned and greatly damaged. We helped them as much as we could, but they had to move to the home of Mr Lewisham’s brother in Oxford.
The whole street was affected by the smoke; the walls are all black, the houses smell of smoke, and the children are frightened… ”
“How terrible! Thank God nobody was harmed in the fire,” Elizabeth whispered in a daze of surprise.
“Indeed, my dear. Gilbert insisted that we all live here for a while until things settle down. I said it was not necessary, but I could not refuse him as this area of Town is splendid, and such an opportunity will never arise for us again.” The lady smiled.
“Besides, there are ten bedchambers here. I believe Gilbert is happy to have company.”
“Why do you say such an opportunity will never arise again?” a strong voice replied. “You may well come and live with me forever. Nothing would make me happier.” They turned and saw Mr Wilson, followed by Mr Gardiner.
Maria paled and mumbled a few words while Elizabeth hurried to embrace her uncle and greet Mr Wilson warmly.
“Miss Elizabeth, you look lovely! It seems the time spent in Kent suited you very well,” Mr Wilson said. “Did you ladies have a good time?”
“We did,” Elizabeth replied for both. “My friend Charlotte is an excellent host, and she has made herself a charming and comfortable home. We were spoiled by her kindness.”
“And how is Rosings?” Mr Gardiner asked. “Were you disappointed or not, based on Mr Collins’s descriptions?”
“Rosings is everything we expected and more. It is beautiful and impressive,” Elizabeth uttered.
“Well, well—I cannot wait to hear more at dinner,” her uncle replied.
A little more time was spent with refreshments and conversation before Maria finally retired to her room.
Elizabeth did the same with Jane as they clasped arms. Only then, did Elizabeth look around carefully.
The elegant tapestries, exquisite furniture, wide halls, and generous chambers impressed her.
It was more than she expected. The house looked like Rosings; Maria was right.
Smiling to herself, she wondered what Lady Catherine might say about a house leased by the brother of her aunt who lived in Cheapside.
Perhaps Mr Bingley’s sister should be invited too—just in case.
∞∞∞
“Lizzy, should we stay together as we used to at home? Or would you rather have your own bedchamber?” Jane asked. “Mr Wilson ordered that all the rooms be prepared.”
“Dear Jane, this room is larger than our drawing room at Longbourn; surely, it can accommodate both of us.” Elizabeth laughed.
“Besides, I missed you so much, and I have so many things to tell you that I cannot bear to be separated from you again. Besides—oh dear, what a view from the window! This is exquisite! The whole park lies before us! I cannot wait to take a long walk!”
“I was hoping you might want us to stay together. And I knew that you would approve of the view; that is why I chose it,” Jane replied, embracing her. “I am so happy to see you, Lizzy! I missed you so much! Tell me everything!”
“You tell me first, Jane. How are you, dearest? You look very well.”
“I am fine…better. The affection of our aunt and the energy of our cousins have kept me occupied all these weeks. And then there was the scare from the fire and the excitement of moving here…I had not a single moment of boredom. Nor had I time to think of anything unpleasant. But enough about me. You have been gone for a fortnight; you must have many interesting things to relate.”
“Very well, dearest. To be honest, I am eager to tell you too. Dear Jane, I am about to disclose to you something so exceedingly astonishing that you will not believe me.”
“Lizzy, you frighten me. What is it?”
“Mr Darcy proposed to me. He asked me to marry him, and I refused him. Even more, I argued with him and offended him. I accused him of many things…some true, but others were so unfair that I want to forget them.”
As she spoke, Elizabeth felt distress overwhelm her as surprise turned the astonished Jane completely pale.
“I know it is impossible to imagine; I still cannot believe it myself.”
“What do you mean? But…Lizzy…how? There is… How can this be?”
“I do not know, Jane; and yet, it happened. I am ashamed to tell you what happened next.” Elizabeth spoke with some difficulty as she attempted to relate to her sister the chief of the scene between Mr Darcy and herself.
Jane listened in disbelief. To her, the proposal itself was not impossible to imagine; her strong sisterly affection made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly natural.
But neither she nor Elizabeth had ever noticed any sign of partiality on Mr Darcy’s side, so news that the gentleman had such strong, hidden affection was disturbing.
Soon, her surprise gave way to other feelings.
She was sorry that Mr Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them, but she was more grieved for the unhappiness her sister’s refusal must have given him.
“Dear Jane, do you blame me for refusing him? Marrying him would ensure an excellent situation and a safe future for all of us. Have I been selfish?”
“Blame you! Oh, no. I could never call you selfish, dearest.”
“But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham.”
“No—I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”
“But you will know it when I have told you what happened the very next day.”
Elizabeth then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents regarding George Wickham. It was a terrible stroke for poor Jane, who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in one man.
“Lizzy, this is so shocking. Can it be true? How horrible! Cannot it be a mistake? Some misunderstanding?”
“No misunderstanding and no mistake. Everything is clear now. There is only one good gentleman between the two, and I am inclined to believe it is Mr Darcy.”
“I do not doubt Mr Darcy, but…I have not been so shocked in years. Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr Darcy, what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! And having to relate such a thing of his sister despite the knowledge of your ill opinion too! It is really too distressing.”
“I know, Jane. I confess I cried—a lot—from anger with myself and with Wickham. I have been such a fool. And I accused Mr Darcy with such stupid self-confidence!”
“Do not blame yourself so harshly, Lizzy. How could you have known? There is such an expression of goodness in Mr Wickham’s countenance—such an openness and gentleness in his manner!”
“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it. And as a complete simpleton, I saw them completely wrong, and my arrogance strengthened my miscomprehension.”
“I never thought Mr Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you used to do, Lizzy.”