Chapter 26
Count Elizabeth among all those who eagerly awaited the news Geoffrey Collins conveyed the afternoon he returned from town.
Lydia had been discovered. She remained in town under the Gardiners’ stewardship.
Darcy remained in London, as well, to keep watch over Wickham and make certain the scoundrel met Lydia at the altar at the appointed time.
Finding the couple had not been as difficult as one would have supposed, not when one had sufficient motives and means.
Darcy possessed both. When it was all said and done, Darcy settled untold thousands of pounds in bringing about a more favourable conclusion than any of the Bennet family members had taught themselves to expect.
As distressed as she was in learning that it would be yet some time before Darcy returned, Elizabeth said a silent prayer in appreciation of his sacrifice on behalf of her family.
Upon hearing the news that Lydia was safe and mere days from being married, Mrs. Bennet, who had retired to her sick bed, owing to her grief over the terrible fate that had befallen her youngest daughter, not only found the strength to recover her spirits with breakneck speed, she also found the vigour to boast about her good fortune to all who would listen.
Three daughters married and all to such handsome men.
Never mind the shame of it all as well as the disgrace that befell poor Mr. Bingley.
Everyone who knew the truth of the matter must surely have secretly congratulated him on his good fortune; however, many did not know.
Mrs. Bennet blissfully belonged in the latter group.
As far as she was concerned, Mr. Bingley’s hurt pride was nothing in comparison with the misery he had inflicted upon the Bennets when he treated her Jane so poorly.
Days after the blessed occasion, Mrs. Bennet exclaimed to no one in particular, “Oh, I cannot wait to receive the newlyweds at Longbourn.” Clutching her handkerchief, she placed her hand to her head.
“I can scarcely believe my brother and sister did not give my Lydia a decent wedding breakfast. We shall make up for such blatant disregard when they come. Oh, there is so much to plan—so much to do.” She ceased her frantic prattling and concentrated her attention on her two eldest daughters.
“When did you say Lydia and her husband were expected?”
Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, their eyes filled with concern.
Word of Lydia’s scandalous behaviour had travelled all the way to Kent, and Jane’s brother, Mr. William Collins, wasted no time in making his sentiments known by way of a stern letter to his older brother.
With her husband’s permission, Jane had shared much of its contents with Elizabeth.
The following admonishment, Elizabeth had committed to memory:
“I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their living together before the marriage took place should be so generally known.
I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, nor refrain from declaring my steadfast belief that the young couple must not be admitted into Longbourn even if the union is now sanctioned by marriage.
To do so would merely serve as an encouragement of vice, nay a tacit approval.
I need not remind you of the poor example this affords to our two unmarried cousins—your own sisters—as well as your own young daughters.
You ought certainly to forgive the couple, as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing. ”
Jane said, “Mama, you know Mr. Collins has affirmed that he will not reward Lydia’s careless behaviour with a fine wedding breakfast.”
“Mr. Collins—Mr. Collins! It is all I ever hear of late. Do his wishes trump my own? Am I not still mistress of my own home? Mr. Collins, indeed.”
Elizabeth said, “Mama, it is entirely reasonable that Mr. Collins would feel this way. Lydia’s actions made all of us laughing stocks and no one more so than Mr. Bingley.
Mr. Wickham’s acts were deplorable. Can you blame anyone for feeling that such callous disregard for the feelings of others should not be celebrated? ”
“Oh, but what better cause for celebration than a wedding—regardless of how it all came about?” She started towards the door. “I shall speak with Mr. Bennet. Surely he will not condone such heartless treatment of his own daughter.”
Jane said, “I wish you would not burden Papa. He is well aware of my husband’s sentiments. The two of them are of the same mind.”
Disquiet graced the older woman’s countenance. “You mean to say that something I have waited for as long as this, to celebrate my youngest daughter’s wedding, is not to be? Why, celebrating a daughter’s joy of being a new bride is every mother’s fondest wish!”
“I am afraid that is exactly what I am saying, Mama.”
“Well—we will just see about that,” she said.
Both Jane and Elizabeth’s protests were insufficient to deter their very determined mother.
When Mrs. Bennet was gone, Elizabeth said, “I pray Mama does not tax Papa with her demands. He enjoyed such a pleasant morning. He was sitting by the window looking out at the garden when I visited him. I should hate to think Mama’s demands will only upset him. ”
“Mr. Collins was planning to spend time with Papa later this morning. With any luck, the two of them will be together when Mama arrives in Papa’s room aiming to bend him to her will.
My husband is adamant that turning a blind eye towards what Lydia has done is out of the question.
I should hate to even imagine how Mama will react when she learns from him that Lydia and her husband will not be received at Longbourn. ”
Her voice a mixture of empathy as well as regret, Elizabeth said, “Speaking of Papa and your husband being of the same mind, I am afraid we must bestow that same distinction upon my own dear husband.”
Darcy’s first priority upon returning to Hertfordshire was seeing Ben. He hoped to surprise him with his return. After securing his horse, he climbed the stairs to Ben’s fortress. “I thought I might find you here.”
“Da!” Ben said with greater enthusiasm than Darcy had witnessed in weeks. “I am so happy you are home. Well, I mean to say I am happy you are here.”
Darcy stooped to his knees, and Ben and he embraced.
“I know what you mean, son. Whenever we are together, regardless of the place, we are home.” Ben’s tight hold told Darcy that the little fellow had indeed missed him very much.
Gently coaxing Ben’s arms from about his neck, Darcy took both Ben’s hands in his.
“What have you been doing while I was away?”
“I have been coming here almost every day, keeping watch over the land. Things have been rather quiet, but I learned the militia is going away, which must explain it.”
“Ben, whatever do you mean? How does the militia’s being in the environs affect your daily watch? The encampment is far away.”
Ben pulled his hands away and tucked them in his pockets. “Oh, I forgot it was meant to be a secret.”
“What was meant to be a secret?” Darcy watched Ben’s face cloud with indecision. “Ben, I thought you and I did not keep secrets from each other.”
“Well, I know we ought not to keep secrets, but in this case it was vital that I say nothing, else I might be guilty of treason.”
Treason? What an eager imagination. “I think you ought to let me be the judge of that. After all, treason is a harsh verdict for one as young as you.” He brushed his fingers through Ben’s unruly curls. “Pray what is this secret you have been keeping all to yourself?”
“I suppose there is no harm in my confiding in you, especially since the secret mission is ended.”
“Pray do not keep me in suspense.”
“It has to do with Lieutenant Wickham.”
Darcy drew a sharp breath at the sound of his former friend’s name. “Wickham?”
“Yes, Lieutenant Wickham and Aunt Lydia. I sometimes saw the two of them together.”
Darcy closed his eyes and exhaled a worried breath over the prospect of what his son may have witnessed between those two.
Darcy felt the colour rise in his cheeks, and he hoped Ben did not notice his sudden discomfort.
Thoughts of the deplorable circumstances in which he had found young Lydia—the filth, the stench, and the bleak despair—flooded his mind.
Her attachment to Wickham had been the product of weeks, not days, as Darcy and Collins had taught themselves to believe.
Her scheme to entrap Bingley now makes sense.
It was all the product of Wickham’s depraved mind.
“What exactly do you mean when you say you saw them together, Ben?”
Ben raced over to the window and picked up his spyglass.
He held it to his eye as he looked out the window.
Darcy walked to Ben’s side and accepted the proffered instrument.
Pointing, Ben said, “I sometimes saw them coming and going together in that area. Aunt Lydia never goes anywhere without Aunt Kitty, and that is why I supposed she was on a secret mission with the militia on behalf of the country.”
“So, what you are saying is that you only saw the gentleman and your aunt walking together—nothing more?”
“That is all I ever saw, but as I said, I have seen nothing of the sort since just before you left town. I know that Aunt Lydia has gone away. Is she in town?”
“Ben, I have news about your aunt Lydia. She is in town—or rather she was in London. She has since travelled to Newcastle.”
“New castle? Oh, I love castles. Is it very far away? I should very much like to explore it. Shall we journey there for a visit?”
“Yes, Newcastle is far away—very far. It is not exactly a castle, but rather a town in the north. However, we shall not be travelling there.” God willing. “You see, your aunt is not alone. She is recently married—to George Wickham.”