Chapter Five #2
His steps had slowed as they reached a small garden beside the well.
The rest of their party walked on, but Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth lingered.
He seemed to suffer some internal struggle as she waited for him to continue.
“Yes, you did mention wishing to confide,” she murmured, wondering why it had not struck her as odd at the time.
“No doubt Mr. Wickham informed you of his connection to my family. He was a favorite of my father’s – his godson, in fact.
My father sponsored him at Eton and then Cambridge, which we attended together.
I saw what affection had blinded my father to; away from all restraint, Wickham developed a sense of entitlement and such vices I am loath to mention to a lady.
He also began to resent me, for my birthright and likely for my constant admonitions.
I wished him to be the promising youth my father imagined, but he was a spoilt and devious wastrel. ”
Elizabeth let out a soft gasp and studied Mr. Darcy’s sullen face. She saw something there she had not considered before, and understood that he must have been pained at the souring of a youthful friendship.
“When my father died, he desired that Wickham should have the living at Kympton. I was so relieved that he had no wish to take orders that I gave Wickham three thousand pounds in lieu of the living, in addition to the thousand my father bequeathed him. He gambled the whole sum away within a year, and returned to Pemberley demanding the living. I had given it to a respectable man with a large family, so Wickham demanded more money, and he was turned out of the house when one of my former housemaids presented the child he had sired upon his previous visit.”
“Good God! What became of the poor girl?”
“She is now a very contented Mrs. Blanchard. One of my tenants and occasional chess opponents, Mr. Tom Blanchard, a widower with three sons, has one of the largest farms on my estate. I knew him to be in want of a mother for his children, and he understood her to bear far less reproach in her circumstances than her seducer. In the past four years, her son had been glad of his playmates, and there have been two daughters since their marriage.”
Elizabeth smiled. “That was nobly done of you, Mr. Darcy. But I suppose there is more?”
“There is, and thank you. I hope I am diligent in my duty to Pemberley. I have always aspired to be a dutiful brother, though in that respect I have failed my sister, which brings me back to Mr. Wickham.”
A horrible sense of presentiment overpowered Elizabeth, and Mr. Darcy took her hand in his for a moment before recollecting himself.
“I hope… I know I can trust in your discretion. The summer before I traveled to Netherfield, I sent my sister to Ramsgate for a holiday, accompanied by a paid companion. Wickham also traveled there, undoubtedly by design, and with the help of that companion, Mrs. Younge, he visited my sister often, and soon convinced her that she was in love with him. She was fifteen years old.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Has that to do with what the general knew of you? What he held over you? Mrs. Younge….”
Mr. Darcy nodded sadly. “I visited Georgiana unexpectedly, and managed to prevent the elopement, and yet I was too late; there was a child, a son given to a family on our Scottish estate. Irrefutable evidence of her ruin, and presumably Wickham or Mrs. Younge must have told the general. I have been purchasing his silence since the incident, but the damage has been great. When his scheme came to naught, he made no secret of his desire only for her dowry.”
“I am very sorry for your sister,” Elizabeth said. “And to think he had the nerve to malign her! He called her cold and proud!”
Mr. Darcy could not conceal his ire. “What else did he say of her?”
“Only that he had been kind to her as a child, but thought she had grown too like you.”
He grimaced. “Like me, indeed! She is shy, and far more so this past year, fearful of trusting anybody, and terrified of making the slightest mistake.”
Elizabeth’s heart ached for the girl, and a little for Mr. Darcy, if indeed he was like his sister in this aspect. “Has she any friends her own age?”
“Not many,” he said with a heavy sigh, his eyes seeming to plead with her. “She would be mad with envy at you acquiring two new sisters, when you already have four. I hope they are in good health, by the by, and all your family.”
She smiled ruefully at his civility, so formal after all that he had confided. “Perhaps as penance I shall ask Sir Edward to pack my fifty-seven sisters up in his barouche, and we shall descend upon Miss Darcy to lift her spirits with our nonsense.”
Mr. Darcy beamed at her, inching closer as they resumed their walk; they were far behind their friends now. “I shall hold you to that, once we are free from this place.”
“And shall all of us enjoy a merry welcome?” Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him.
“Bingley has written of his success in colluding with Mr. Bennet to trick, bribe, and otherwise cajole your younger sisters into preparation for coming out in London when the youngest is of age. I believe this will take place around the same time as Georgiana’s come out.”
“A very tactful way of observing that my sisters have improved themselves since last autumn. I daresay they are much more likely now than they were a year ago to make pleasing acquaintances for a timid girl who has been through a ghastly ordeal.”
“And I believe you think well of Miss Smith and Miss Morland already.”
Elizabeth smiled at her sisters, who had tarried at the end of the courtyard with Emma and Mr. Tilney, waiting for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy to catch them up.
“I like them better and better. It is my uncle who I am cross with, though I do not know if it is fair of me. I have been rather insolent to him.”
Mr. Darcy looked pained on her behalf. “If there is anything I can do to be of assistance….”
He could say no more before they joined their friends, and Mr. Tilney began his tour of the castle properly.
He led them through enfilade rooms on the first floor, eventually bringing them into the great hall, which was dusty and abandoned, but full of treasures and relics for them to admire.
They took the narrow circular stairs up one of the towers and ended the tour up on the battlements of the castle.
They walked the perimeter, peering beyond the stone crenels to take in the sweeping landscape beyond.
Again Elizabeth fell behind their companions as they walked together. Storm clouds were gathering once more in the distance, and Elizabeth knew that the coming rain would conclude their excursion, and then she would face a conversation with her uncle.
Elizabeth studied Mr. Darcy. She had been greatly affected by what he had confided in her, and was moved to acknowledge it. “You made quite an impression on me a little while ago, and I am sorry that I mistook your character, that I believed Mr. Wickham’s lies.”
“So, too, did my sister, so I cannot fault you, Miss Bennet,” he replied with a gracious nod. “It is a mark of your own character that you have reformed your opinion.”
She grinned. “Shall you praise me even more when I solicit your opinion? It is a novelty I rather enjoy.”
“A novelty? Did I not praise you enough in Meryton when last we met?”
Elizabeth nearly snorted with laughter. She hesitated to tell him what she had heard him say at the assembly, for it occurred to her now that it must have been not long after his sister’s ordeal; indeed, that might also account for his hasty departure on the evening of the Netherfield ball.
“I should appreciate your advice on a certain matter that is troubling me. You have kindly offered your assistance several times, and I have a high estimation of your judgement.”
He smiled. “Your good opinion has been worth the earning. Do you mean to ask me how to discuss last evening’s great revelation with your uncle? The tension between you is evident, and I am sorry for it. You have spoken well of him, as have the Bingleys.”
“He is a good man,” Elizabeth admitted. “One of the very best. I fear I have spoken very rudely to him since learning of my origins, and my sisters.”
“Do you fear the loss of some connection with the Bennets?”
Elizabeth could not quite believe that she was confiding in Mr. Darcy, but the last twenty-four hours had strained all credulity, and she was actually glad to have somebody impartial to help her make sense of it all.
“I am very attached to Papa – to Mr. Bennet, and of course Jane and our sisters. Even Mamma can be endearing at times. I do not fear losing them; I suppose it is only the deception. Could I not have been trusted, at some point in recent years, with the truth?”
“That is a reasonable sentiment.”
“And what of my poor late aunt? Jane and I adored her, and she doted on all of us, and their children, of course. And he said that Lady Allen is his first and only love!”
“Did your late aunt and uncle seem happy together?”
“They did.”
“And perhaps they were,” Mr. Darcy said. “A union of warm friendship is still better than some. And if they were content, would that satisfy you?”
“I should hope neither of them were unhappy. I wonder if my aunt knew about me. And I almost fear to ask who my mother is.”
“Surely some other lady similar to Lady Allen,” Mr. Darcy suggested. “Would you ever wish to know her?”
“I should wish to know why he did not marry her!” Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh, her next thought weighing heavily on her heart.
“And then, there is some wicked part of me that wonders what it might have been like to be his daughter, to have grown up in London, perhaps to have grown up with Cathy and Harriet.”
“And your sisters only cousins to you? No, you are too devoted to them,” he said with a glimmer in his eye.