39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-Nine
June 1, 1812 Bond Street, London Elizabeth
A unt Maria strolled next to Elizabeth and Mary, chattering about wedding clothes and celebrations.
"Neither of us are engaged, Aunt," Mary reminded her teasingly. "Pray, do not get ahead of yourself."
"If you and Elizabeth are not married before Michaelmas, then I shall eat my favorite bonnet!" Aunt Maria declared loudly.
"Married? To whom, the butcher?" Shrill laughter sounded from behind them, and the ladies turned. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley stood under an awning in front of a haberdashery. Their bonnets were ostentatiously decorated, the feathers drooping in the summer heat.
Aunt Maria frowned. "Elizabeth, who are these pretentious trollops?" she asked testily.
"You would not wish to know them, Aunt," she replied.
"We would not wish to know you!" Miss Bingley cried in anger. "How dare the wife of a lowborn tradesman speak so to us!"
The haberdashery door opened and Lady Mildred Tipton stepped out. "Lady Elmwood!" she cried happily. "How pleased I am to see you today!" She curtseyed to Aunt Maria and then repeated the greeting for Elizabeth and Mary.
"Lady Elmwood?" Miss Bingley's scoff easily carried to their ears.
"Yes, Miss Bingley. Lady Elmwood is my aunt—and Mary's. I cannot imagine how you thought she was Mrs. Gardiner. Did you not go to Gracechurch Street to see my stepsister?" She emphasized the last word, watching Miss Bingley's eyes open wider in shock.
Miss Bingley's reply was incoherent. "We did not meet Mrs. Gardiner," Mrs. Hurst said weakly. "She was out when we called. Naturally, we assumed…"
"That we were going about town with Mrs. Gardiner whilst Jane stayed home?" Did these ladies lack all sense? Elizabeth chuckled and shook her head. "Really, a child might have puzzled everything out."
Both ladies looked as though they sucked on something sour. A small crowd had gathered around them, and they only now seemed to notice that the confrontation had drawn interest.
"Come, ladies," Aunt Mavery said imperiously. "Lady Mildred, would you care to accompany us to Gunter's for ices? It is dreadfully hot out." Lady Elmwood drew herself to her full height and looked directly at the two stunned ladies. Raising an eyebrow, she turned deliberately away, not bothering to speak or acknowledge them further.
Whispers immediately began amongst the gathered crowd. As they strode away, Elizabeth leaned close and whispered to her aunt, "Well done." The superior sisters would not escape this debacle unscathed.
After ices, their aunt took them to Gracechurch Street for tea with Jane. Elizabeth and Mary climbed down from their uncle’s carriage, both looking up at the door with trepidation.
"Goodbye, girls!" Aunt Maria called. “I shall call for you in a few hours.”
Elizabeth knocked on the door, and they were admitted. She and Mary followed the maid to the drawing room, where Jane awaited them.
Their stepsister stood silently, her hands clasped in front of her and an anxious look on her face.
Mary was the first to move, striding forward and wrapping Jane in an embrace. Elizabeth followed, and soon the three were laughing and crying.
“Oh, how I have missed you!” Jane cried. “I am the biggest fool in the world to have treated you both so shabbily.”
“You owe us quite the explanation,” Elizabeth said seriously. “We forgive you, of course, but we wish to understand.”
Jane poured the tea and began to tell her tale, from the events of last summer to now. “You see,” she said, “I allowed my insecurities to alter my behavior. How misguided I have been! And now I have been given a second chance. I do not mean to squander it.”
“Mr. Bingley loves you, then?” Mary asked.
“He does. He asked for a courtship when he called. I have much to atone for, though, and I want him to trust me from now on.” Jane smiled, and Elizabeth noted it was her old smile, serene, calm, happy, instead of the calculating false smile she had boasted since last summer.
“I am very pleased,” Elizabeth said. “I, too, have entered a courtship… with Mr. Darcy.”
Jane gaped. “But he does not like you! He called you—”
“It is all forgotten! He has apologized very prettily—to me and to Mary. Though he is the same in essentials, Mr. Darcy improves upon better acquaintance. Better still, he is a man willing to admit he has faults, and to work to change them.”
“That is quite the glowing character. I am happy for you. Now, Mary, tell me, has a gentleman caught your eye?”
Mary flushed. “Nothing is settled,” she murmured.
“What Mary means to say is that our uncle insisted James wait until June to propose.” Elizabeth grinned. "And our cousin has not done it yet."
“Oh, I knew it!” Jane clapped her hands. Her smile fell. “I thought to capture his interest in December. It was clear that he favored Mary then. Oh, I have behaved very badly.” Her cheeks flushed, and she hung her head.
“Let us make a new start,” Elizabeth said. “We are together again, and we are mending fences.”
They took tea, conversing quietly amongst themselves. Mrs. Gardiner was not present; Jane informed the sisters that her aunt would return in an hour or so. “She is calling on an ill neighbor.”
Elizabeth and Mary entertained Jane with tales of their adventure on Bond Street. Soon, the sisters were laughing as they once had, all discomfort and upset forgotten.
“When will you return to Longbourn?” Elizabeth asked Jane.
“Mama has written many times to hasten my return,” Jane confided. “I have put her off, first because I did not wish to be subjected to her histrionics so soon after coming to my senses. And then I met Mr. Bingley in the park… Now I do not want to return until everything is settled.”
“We can hardly blame you.”
There was a noise from the front of the house. “That must be Aunt Gardiner,” Jane said.
The door to the parlor opened. “An express has come for you, Miss Younge,” the maid said, offering the note.
Elizabeth’s heart dropped. What could possibly be so important that the expense for an express had been spent?
Jane broke the seal and began to read. Gasping, she put a hand to her chest. “No!” she cried. “No, this is not possible!” She burst into tears, dropping the missive and burying her face in her hands. “We are ruined!”
Elizabeth picked it up and read it aloud.
Jane,
Something has occurred of the most serious nature. We discovered this morning that Kitty has eloped with a member of the militia. She and Mr. Wickham departed in the night, though they did not go north. My efforts have revealed that they have gone to London. Please tell your aunt and uncle to expect me.
T. Bennet
“Wickham!” Elizabeth cried.
Jane sniffed and looked up. “I thought he was a favorite of yours, Elizabeth,” she said quietly. “Have we so misjudged him?”
“Mr. Wickham lost my approbation in December,” Elizabeth said hotly. “He is no gentleman.” As quickly as she could, she told her sisters all she had learned about the reprobate, leaving Miss Darcy’s name out of it.
“A fortune hunter! What is he thinking, absconding with Kitty? She has nothing.” Jane groaned.
“Why did my father not send a note to Mr. Gardiner?” Elizabeth asked curiously.
“I cannot say.” Jane wiped her eyes again. “We are all ruined. You and Mary may escape censure if you distance yourself from our troubles, but there is no hope for me.”
“If Mr. Bingley cries off because of our stupid little sister, then he is not worthy of you,” Mary said matter-of-factly.
“That is the harshest thing I have ever heard you say,” Elizabeth said, chuckling mirthlessly.
Another noise sounded, and the maid entered again. “Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy,” she said.
The gentlemen stepped in, faces wreathed in smiles, only to freeze when they noted the ladies’ distress.
“What is the matter?” Mr. Bingley cried, going immediately to Jane’s side. “Tell me, dearest.”
Jane promptly burst into tears again. “It is news so dreadful that it cannot be concealed from anyone,” she said between sobs. “We have just now had an express from Longbourn. Kitty eloped with a member of the militia sometime last night. She and Mr. Wickham are nowhere to be found.”
“Wickham!” snapped Darcy. “Blast the man. What is being done to recover her?”
“They have been gone less than a day, sir,” Elizabeth whispered. “My father is on his way from Longbourn, as we speak. He and my uncle will endeavor to locate the pair.”
“Will they be forced to marry?” Bingley asked.
“We do not know. To have her tied to such a man is abhorrent.” Jane shuddered. She turned solemn eyes toward Mr. Bingley. “I must release you from our courtship, sir. My downfall must not affect you.”
“If you think that the actions of your sister will drive me away after all we have suffered, then you may think again. Darcy will agree with me, will you not?” Bingley turned to his friend.
Darcy moved to Elizabeth’s side and took her hand. “Nothing could drag me from your side in this time of need. We are at your disposal.”
Elizabeth squeezed his hand and gave him a watery smile. “What is to be done?” she asked. “How can we work upon such a man?”
“He has his price,” Darcy replied darkly. “Though I find I am not in the mood to meet it. Miss Younge, is there a place where I can pen a note? I believe we need my cousin’s expertise.”
Jane indicated a writing desk, and Darcy bent over it, writing a few lines and then sanding it. The note they dispatched with a footman.
“He will be here within the hour. Has your uncle been sent for?” Darcy asked.
“No,” Elizabeth replied, for Jane was weeping into Mr. Bingley’s shoulder. “You came upon us almost immediately after we learned the news.”
Another missive was composed and sent to the warehouses. While they waited, the gentlemen formulated a plan.
“Wickham will hide himself in the worst parts of London,” Darcy said. “He is likely running from debts. Miss Kitty is merely a distraction… and amusement. When he is finished with her, she will be discarded—as he has done to so many others.”
“What must we do?” Bingley asked.
Darcy paused. “Mrs. Younge has a house in town. She leases the rooms, if I recall.”
“Mrs. Younge—the former companion?” Elizabeth asked cryptically. She and Jane exchanged a look. “Do you remember her first name?”
Darcy frowned. “Mrs. Agatha Younge, if I recall.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Can it be?”
“You once said our lives have been inexplicably intertwined, sir,” Elizabeth said. “I had wondered if there was a connection between the traitorous companion you mentioned and my stepsister, but I dismissed it.”
“I, too, thought a connection unlikely. Am I to assume that there is, indeed, a family tie?” Darcy frowned.
“She is my aunt, Mr. Darcy,” Jane said. “Can it be that Wickham has taken my sister to her very own relation? Will Kitty even recall the woman? Mr. Bennet cast her from Longbourn years ago.”
“I suppose we must wait to see,” Darcy replied.
Mr. Gardiner arrived, looking panicked and disarrayed. “Where is your aunt?” he asked Jane without acknowledging their guests.
“She has not returned. Uncle, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy know of our misfortunes. Even now, they make plans to aid us.”
“We cannot ask you to do so,” Mr. Gardiner said, nodding to the gentlemen.
“You are not required to,” Mr. Bingley said firmly. “It is the least we can do. Darcy’s familiarity with the reprobate will aid us in retrieving your niece as expeditiously as possible.”
The bell rang again, and Colonel Fitzwilliam was shown into the room. “Wickham again?” he said by way of greeting. “I do hope you will allow me to have a go at him this time.”
“He has deserted the militia during a time of war,” Darcy said grimly. “If you wish, you may send him to the continent. I will no longer stand in your way.”
“Excellent. What shall we do first?”
Darcy quickly explained his suspicions. “I propose we go to the house and confront Mrs. Younge. She is a mercenary soul, and I wager we could buy her cooperation.”
“I hate to see any more of your fortune in her hands.” Colonel Fitzwilliam scowled. “Mr. Gardiner, I recommend you wait here for Mr. Bennet’s arrival. We three strapping young men will investigate this lead and then return.”
Mr. Gardiner could do nothing but agree. The gentlemen called for Bingley’s carriage.
Whilst Bingley farewelled Jane, Darcy came again to Elizabeth’s side. “Fear not,” he murmured. “We will find her.”
“And what of our courtship?” she asked tremulously.
“This changes nothing. I shall stand by you, and when June comes, I will get on one knee and beg you again to be my wife.” He kissed her cheek, and she blushed at his very public display.
“Hurry back to me,” she murmured.
The gentlemen departed. Mary arranged for a note to be sent to Elm House, informing their uncle what had occurred. The ladies kept each other company whilst Mr. Gardiner paced the floor. And when Mrs. Gardiner arrived, the entire thing was explained again.
Oh, Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth thought. Come back to me soon.
Mrs. Agatha Younge
“What do you want, Wickham?” she snapped, refusing to open the door any wider than it already was.
“We are in need of lodgings,” the smarmy, charming man said, smiling broadly. “You would not deprive two young lovers a place, would you?”
“What sort of trollop have you brought this time?”
“How dare you!” The snooty little miss stuck her nose in the air. “I am the daughter of a gentleman.”
“Miss Bennet is merely tired.” Wickham spoke apologetically, likely in an attempt to smooth any ruffled feathers.
Bennet? Mrs. Younge thought. Could it be? “No relation to Mr. Thomas Bennet of Hertfordshire?” she asked curiously.
“That is my father!” the young lady cried. “I never knew Papa was important enough to be known in town.”
Stupid chit. Mrs. Younge stepped aside and allowed them to enter. “I suppose I can give you a room for a few nights,” she replied. “Let me show you the way. Wickham, you and I have matters to discuss once we deposit your lady love in your room.”
Once the girl, whom Wickham called Kitten , had been settled, she dragged him to her office. “Explain your scheme,” she growled. “You will either pay me in advance for the room or give me a cut of whatever fortune you get off the girl.”
“First, tell me why you let us in.” Wickham grinned. “I am not a fool, Agatha. You did not agree until you learned who Kitty’s father is. What connection do you have to the Bennets of Longbourn?”
Agatha frowned. How much should she tell him? Shrugging, she opted for honesty. “She is my niece, in a way. Her mother was married to my husband’s brother. I worked as the family governess for a time before Mr. Bennet threw me out.”
“How very interesting. What a small world we live in.” Wickham smiled. “You could not resist a chance for revenge, could you? Well, we will certainly have our fill of it.” He leaned closer. “Miss Kitty informs me that her sister Elizabeth is being courted by none other than Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bennet received a letter informing him of the situation on Tuesday.”
“And so you mean to use the brat as leverage? Do you honestly think the high and mighty Mr. Darcy will pay you to restore the lady’s reputation?”
“Not to restore Miss Kitty, no. But to keep his Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s reputation pristine? Yes. He cannot marry her otherwise.” Wickham frowned. “I am surprised he lowered himself to court her. The Misses Bennet have no dowry or connections.”
Ha. He does not know. Mrs. Younge smirked. She had learned that Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary had both fortune and connections whilst she lived at Longbourn. Her former sister-in-law had certainly bemoaned such often enough. I believe I shall keep that tidbit to myself for now.
“I want fifty percent,” she said firmly.
“Fifteen,” Wickham countered. “All you are providing is a place to hide.”
“I’ll take forty and not a farthing less.” She folded her arms stubbornly.
“Twenty. Final offer.”
Mrs. Younge nodded. “Very well. Now get out of my office. I have work to do.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, Agatha.” Wickham smirked and departed.
I shall have to make sure he cannot slip away before I am paid my due, she thought bitterly. He has embroiled me in enough schemes… he owes me.
Agatha busied herself with her paperwork until she could no longer see. Candles were expensive and scarce, so when the light faded, her work ended. She moved to the kitchen to cobble together an evening meal. Food was not included in her rents; tenants were required to fend for themselves. That did not mean that Wickham would abide by the rule. No, he would likely show up looking for free food.
He will not find it here, she thought grimly.