Chapter 10 #2
“Because you are wise and careful with your judgements—and bright and kind and generous, my dearest Jane. I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike to him without any reason.”
“Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat the matter as you do now.”
“Indeed, I could not. I was very uncomfortable and unhappy, as I knew I had been so very weak and vain and nonsensical!”
“Lizzy, please cease this self-blame. But I agree it was unfortunate that you used such very strong expressions in speaking of Wickham to Mr Darcy, for now they do appear wholly undeserved.”
“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness of spirit is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging.”
“You are not prejudiced, Lizzy.”
“With Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham, I was. And there is one point on which I want your advice. Should I make our acquaintance, in general, understand Wickham’s character?”
Jane paused a little before she said, “Surely, there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?”
“That it ought not to be attempted. Mr Darcy has not authorised me to make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself.”
“Then the decision is already made.”
“But if I meet Mr Wickham again, he will hear something from me, I assure you—something that will not betray Mr Darcy’s confidence but will let Wickham have a piece of my mind!”
“I know I cannot change your mind, Lizzy. Just be careful. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, and anxious to re-establish his character. We must not make him desperate.”
“That I cannot believe, Jane. If so, he would not publicly spread all those abominable lies about his godfather’s son. Oh, just wait ’til Mr Wilson hears about this! He was already displeased at Longbourn with Wickham’s behaviour; I cannot imagine what he would do if he ever heard the truth.”
“Dear Lizzy, let us not involve Mr Wilson. He is a kind, generous, gentleman with us, but I fear he is not a man to trifle with or to risk his anger. But he is an extraordinary man, and our aunt is so happy to be around him. Oh, and I have some news. Papa will come to Town with our sisters. Mr Wilson invited them for the rest of the Season. There are so many performances of theatre and opera…and Mr Wilson wishes to host several parties and balls. Do you know he is well acquainted with the Duke of York? He might be invited too—can you imagine?”
“Papa will come to Town? And Lydia and Mary and Kitty? That is wonderful news indeed.”
“Yes, in three or four days’ time.”
The discussion continued for another hour, moving from Mr Darcy to Lady Catherine, the Collinses to Mr Wilson and to their family.
The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind was allayed by this conversation. She had shared the secrets that had weighed on her for several days and nights, and she was certain of a willing listener in Jane whenever she might wish to discuss them again.
But there was still something troubling her, of which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not relate the other half of Mr Darcy’s letter nor explain to her sister how sincerely she had been valued by his friend. She saw no reason to pain her sister more.
If Mr Bingley should ever happen to appear in their lives again, she would know how to deal with him.
She might well give him a piece of her mind too, just as she planned to do with Wickham.
What use can a man have to be honest, honourable, and amiable if he is weak and undecided and cannot fight for his love even against his friends and family?
After all, Mr Darcy was ready to do so!
∞∞∞
Any benefits to the house’s location across from Hyde Park were lost on Elizabeth since it rained steadily during her first days in Town.
However, the delight of being with her sister and relatives more than compensated. She spent equal time talking to Jane and her aunt, while Maria proved to be joyful company for the Gardiner children.
In the impressive house, the library soon became Elizabeth’s favourite room. The books had belonged to the late owner, and Elizabeth spotted some interesting pieces that excited her curiosity.
Mr Wilson admitted he was not a great reader. He did spend a great deal of time there with Mr Gardiner, mostly talking, and they always invited Elizabeth to join them.
Mr Wilson’s plans for later in the Season differed from books and readings.
He purchased tickets to all operas and theatre plays although he confessed he was more interested in meeting people than sitting in a chair and watching hours of actors’ performances in a large room lacking in fresh air and space.
He also decided—with much excitement—to host a private ball in a fortnight with the most illustrious of London society in attendance.
“I wish it to be something the ton will remember,” he said. “The Duke of York will be the most important guest, and I trust his presence will foster the acceptance of many peers.”
“But, Mr Wilson, may I ask: Why do you want to do that?” Elizabeth inquired daringly. “It seems to me that inviting people you do not know and likely will not even like is a waste of time and money.”
“Perhaps, my dear Miss Elizabeth. And yet, it is an event I have planned for a long time, and it must to be done. I count on you ladies to be there and to charm everybody with your beauty and spirit.”
“Well, that I cannot promise.” Elizabeth laughed. “The part with the beauty and the charm, I mean; otherwise, I look forward to a ball or a party, especially one with such exquisite guests present.”
He smiled. “My sister made an appointment with a modiste. Please indulge me and order everything Madeleine has on her list. It is a personal favour that I ask of you.”
“Sir, I am torn between thanking you for your generosity and being embarrassed by the extent to which you spoil us,” Jane said shyly.
“Nonsense,” the gentleman replied. “I want everything to be perfect, and I pride myself on having such an admirable sister and nieces. I wish people to see that.”
“You are too kind,” said Mrs Gardiner. “And we shall help you in any way you desire so everything will be perfect.”
“And Miss Elizabeth—I understand you plan to take a trip to the lakes with Madeleine and Edward in July,” Mr Wilson continued. “I shall join you as far as Derbyshire. I wish to spend some time in Lambton since I have dearly missed the place I spent my youth.”
“That would be lovely.” Elizabeth’s voice trembled slightly as the recollected Lambton was only a few miles from Pemberley. Her mind made the connection, and her distress increased.
“Perhaps you will have a chance to finally see Pemberley too.” Mrs Gardiner smiled at her, causing Elizabeth’s heart to beat faster. She glanced at Jane, who was sharing her torment and tried to encourage her with a tentative smile.
“One cannot be in the neighbourhood and miss seeing Pemberley. It is a place one cannot easily forget,” Mr Wilson declared.
“I plan to see it too, and certainly I plan to speak to the young master. Sadly, I have not heard favourable things about him, but since he is the son of George Darcy, he deserves the consideration of introducing myself.”
A few minutes passed before Elizabeth spoke. “It is difficult to form a correct opinion about someone you have only met a few times. Things you hear about someone can be reliable or not.”
“True. That is why I am reluctant to trust anything that I cannot testify to myself. Well, anyway—until then, we shall surely have many opportunities to settle this matter too. I look forward to Mr Bennet’s arrival. I wonder how he prefers to amuse himself when in London.”
“Reading in the library,” Elizabeth and Mr Gardiner replied together; then both laughed.
To Elizabeth, it was a relief that the subject had changed. She concealed her torment and struggled not to think of Pemberley and its master again. At least for the present.
∞∞∞
The third day began as poorly as the previous ones, rainy and windy.
In the afternoon, though, while the gentlemen were at their club and Mrs Gardiner supervised the children for an afternoon nap, the rain suddenly stopped.
The clouds dissipated, and the sun appeared.
Within half an hour, the weather turned mild, warm, and bright—perfect for a walk.
“I am going out,” Elizabeth told Jane and Maria.
“I cannot spend a single moment longer inside. Will you join me? Hyde Park must be wonderful. I heard the Regent’s Park was designed last year, and I have dreamed of seeing it since then.
It must be lovely already, but I am sure it will be spectacular in the summer. ”
Her invitation was quickly accepted as her enthusiasm was contagious. Maria declared herself interested in Regent’s Park too and wondered whether anyone else in Meryton had seen it.
The three of them cheerfully left the house. Within minutes, they were inside the park, and Elizabeth’s spirits rose along with her widening smile. Beauty, animation, and liveliness surrounded her.
Phaetons and horses, ladies and gentlemen, children and dogs, voices and laugher—all gathered together, enjoying the perfect weather.
They walked together along the edge of the lake, admiring the superb view and savouring the scent of the flowers.
“Lizzy, look at all these people. They are so elegant and fashionable. I believe at least half of them must be titled. I bet half the ton is here,” Maria whispered.
Elizabeth smiled. “Perhaps not half the ton, but they are elegant and fashionable indeed. But look at this garden of flowers! Is it not spectacular? I could walk along these paths every morning and every afternoon—and spend the rest of the time reading in Mr Wilson’s library.”
“I wonder whether we shall meet anyone we know,” Maria continued.
“I doubt that very much,” Elizabeth answered. “We know very few people who live near Hyde Park. And of the few we know, it is unlikely they might walk along the same paths we do. It would be too much of a coincidence.”
She, too, looked around as she spoke, secretly distressed by the same thought.
Mr Darcy lived on Park Lane, as did the colonel’s family.
And Mr Bingley had a house several blocks away on Grosvenor Street.
It was not impossible to happen upon any of them.
But, as she said, too much of a coincidence for it to be anticipated.
She compelled herself to cease such ridiculous musings and to rejoice in the walk, the pleasant company, and the wondrous surroundings. It was time to overcome useless remorse and put the past behind her.
For another hour, she did everything in her power to reach that goal. She congratulated herself on her success and was happy to watch Jane smiling at Maria’s jokes. A soft breeze cooled their cheeks, and they decided to stop for a cup of tea at a small shop by the lake.
As they moved in that direction, Elizabeth’s heart almost stopped, and her breathing caught in her throat.
She prayed she was wrong in guessing the identity of a gentleman walking toward them at a slow pace.
She stopped reluctantly as the man approached.
Jane touched her arm to make her pay attention to the unexpected encounter.
Maria gasped and whispered with apparent despair, “Lizzy, look; it is Mr Darcy! He is coming towards us!”
Her heartbeat and the pain in her temple told her it was true—moments before she finally gathered the courage to meet his eyes.