Chapter IX #2
“Lydia was to go to Brighton this summer, Mr. Darcy, at the invitation of Mrs. Forster,” said Elizabeth.
“She was prepared, her trunks packed and on the carriage, to the point of farewelling us all. At the last moment, she suffered mishap and injury when she tried to enter the carriage, rendering her unable to keep her engagement.”
“Yet even then she would have gone had we relented,” said Mr. Bennet, his voice shaky.
“Then there is her odd behavior of late, statements that seem strange, her surety that she is to be married before the rest of her sisters, her promise to lord her new situation over us. Could she have had contact with Mr. Wickham?”
“I know not,” said Mr. Bennet, his features fixed in an angry mask. “But I mean to discover it.”
“Perhaps that is not the best way to go about this,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam when Mr. Bennet rose to summon a servant, presumably to instruct his youngest and silliest daughter to join them in the study.
“How do you mean?” asked Mr. Bennet, his movement arrested for the moment.
“Only that we may have a better chance of ending this matter once and for all if we do not interrogate Miss Lydia.”
“Are you suggesting we use my daughter as bait, sir?”
Never having seen him like this, Elizabeth regarded her father, wondering at his curt tone.
One might suggest that his current displeasure was pure silliness, given how he had been willing to dispatch his daughter to Brighton to preserve his peace not long before.
Elizabeth knew she was doing her father a disservice, for while his conclusions had been erroneous, he had not known the full extent of the danger, from Mr. Wickham in particular.
Now that he understood it, he would not countenance placing her in a situation that might pose a hazard.
Any father, no0 matter how divorced from his family’s affairs, would feel the same.
“Not as such, sir,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Please hear me out before you brand me as uncaring regarding your daughter’s wellbeing.”
After a long searching look, Mr. Bennet offered the colonel a curt nod.
“If you forbid Miss Lydia from going out, you may protect her from Wickham’s depravities, but you will harden his resolve—Wickham is not one to allow his designs to be frustrated easily. Wickham might remain a threat for many months if he evades capture and may cause you no end of trouble.”
“If, on the other hand, we allow matters to play out, ready to step in at any moment, we can capture Wickham as he attempts to accomplish his design and end the threat. I suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective you might think of her as bait. I prefer to consider the benefit of ending Wickham’s ambitions once and for all. ”
Mr. Bennet was silent for several long moments, considering the import of the colonel’s words.
“Do you suppose we can keep her from harm?” Mr. Bennet’s mien softened, and he looked to Elizabeth.
“Your sister is one of the silliest girls in all England, but I would not have her ruined by a reprobate intent upon vengeance.”
“Nor would I, Papa.”
“There are no guarantees in life, Mr. Bennet,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“If you decide the risk is too great, I cannot and will not gainsay you. I have men in the area all on the lookout for Wickham, such that I judge it unlikely he will spirit her away without our notice. But I understand your perspective as a father.”
“What if he learns you are in the neighborhood?”
“It is possible he might flee, for he has always had a healthy . . . respect for Fitzwilliam’s abilities,” said Mr. Darcy. “It might also stiffen his resolve, for he has always had a desperate compulsion to prove himself my superior.”
“Then it would seem the trick would be to ensure he does not learn of your presence.”
“Yes, that would be for the best,” agreed Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Very well,” said Mr. Bennet after a long pause. “Lydia’s obstinacy is such that I suspect we would have little success in pulling any useful information from her. We shall do it your way. However, I hardly think staying at the inn in Meryton will be conducive to keeping a low profile.”
“Do you have another suggestion?” asked Mr. Darcy.
“There is a cottage nearby that is empty at present.” Mr. Bennet chuckled.
“I have often used it as the residence of Longbourn’s gamekeeper, but the last occupant of that position left last year and I have not yet replaced him.
I am not much of a hunter, other than the occasional craving for pheasant.
“The house is in good condition, though it has lain empty since that time. It is near enough to the manor that you could travel between houses in a few minutes, yet far enough into the woods that no one would know you are here.”
“Yet your family knows,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“What of Miss Lydia?” asked Mr. Darcy. “Will she not alert him to our presence?”
Mr. Bennet pursed his lips. “If she has some means of communicating with him, it cannot be sufficient for her to respond—I should think anything she receives can be no more than an occasional note, likely constrained to instructions on timing or where to meet.”
“And Wickham has been in London for several days now,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“He will wish to lie low to avoid detection, but if he waits too long, he risks word of his desertion making its way back to Meryton. His task becomes more difficult if he must dodge every merchant and angry father looking for him.”
“Which means he will make his move soon,” said Mr. Darcy.
“She likely already has that information in her possession,” said Mr. Bennet with disgust. “He would have instructed her to destroy any correspondence, so there is little use searching her effects.”
“That would alert her,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I would not recommend it.”
00 Mr. Bennet allowed his comment. “Then the best course would be to alert the staff for anything unusual. I will attempt to keep my daughters at home for the next few days, but if Lydia agitates enough, I shall allow her to go to Meryton.”
“Very well,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I believe we have our plan.”
––––––––
Jane Bennet was a sweet young woman. Inclined to think the best of others and maintain a positive outlook on life and events, Jane had often excused the excesses of her family.
That did not mean that Jane did not understand when they misbehaved, only that she did her best to allow for differences in temper before pronouncing judgment on anyone.
Elizabeth had often told her that her complying disposition led her to make excuses for others, but Jane had never had reason to question her opinions.
Perhaps that was incorrect too, for while Jane was content with her outlook on life, she sometimes wondered if Elizabeth’s more severe opinion of certain excesses by certain of their family members was not understandable.
Kitty and Lydia, they had often commiserated, were no less than wild, their mother indiscrete.
While Jane thought neither girl was so far gone as to knowingly put their family at risk for censure, she could well understand the dangers.
Even though Jane loved her mother, Mrs. Bennet gave the impression of being horribly mercenary.
It was this last problem that gave her so much discomfort after Elizabeth left the sitting-room to go to their father’s study.
Jane had seen her sister’s plea for her to take control of the situation and not allow their mother to embarrass them.
Jane was nowhere as forceful as her younger sister, and as a result, less capable of doing so.
The contrast between the sisters’ strengths and weaknesses was striking.
Jane, calm, rational, and compassionate, was far better at managing her mother’s nerves, calming her when her fluttering got the better of her.
Elizabeth, however, was better able to exert some control over that behavior, though saying anyone could control Mrs. Bennet was incorrect.
Still, Elizabeth’s ability to explain matters in a way that Mrs. Bennet understood, or even deliver a reprimand that would not offend her was an ability Jane did not possess.
The time in the sitting-room with Georgiana Darcy present provoked Jane to wish she had at least some means of controlling her mother.
“How surprised we were all to welcome you today, Miss Darcy,” said her mother, almost the moment the door closed behind Elizabeth. “We are pleased to make the acquaintance, particularly when we have heard so much of you.”
That was an overstatement, Jane knew, for while Lizzy had heard something of Miss Darcy, none of the rest of them had spoken much with Mr. Darcy, and Miss Bingley had not spoken on the subject to anyone else. Miss Darcy, shy as she was, mustered a smile.
“And I have heard something of you, and particularly Miss Elizabeth.”
No response could have been greater calculated to provoke Mrs. Bennet’s interest. The family had long possessed a healthy respect for Mrs. Bennet’s preternatural ability to sense any hint of a gentleman’s interest in her daughters, even when no such interest existed.
The confirmation of Miss Darcy’s words was like ambrosia to the gods, enough to send Mrs. Bennet’s imagination winging higher than the clouds.
“Your brother spoke of Lizzy to you?”
“He did,” said Miss Darcy, unaware of the peril. “Both in his letters last autumn and recently when we were in town.”
By small degrees, Mrs. Bennet coaxed the girl to share what she knew, and while Miss Darcy could not speak much, she said enough to give Mrs. Bennet a clearer picture of Mr. Darcy’s affections toward her second daughter.
It was no less than providential, in Jane’s opinion, that either Miss Darcy knew nothing of Mr. Darcy’s aborted proposal or she allowed no hint of it to pass her lips.
Jane could not imagine the uproar that would ensue if she discovered that Elizabeth had rejected another proposal of marriage.
Then again, given the events of the days following Mr. Collins’s proposal, Jane imagined it far better than she wished!
“No, we stayed in London this year,” said Miss Darcy when Mrs. Bennet asked her if they were on their way to Pemberley. It was clear to Jane’s eyes that the girl had become a little uncomfortable at the questioning. “I do not know what my brother’s plans are for the rest of the summer.”
The way she hesitated told Jane that Miss Darcy likely knew something of what had brought her with her brother to Hertfordshire, but did not wish to speak of it.
Given Elizabeth’s summons to the study, Jane could not but wonder if something had provoked them to leave London, and later than they usually quit the city.
Whatever it was, it suggested Mr. Darcy’s interest in Elizabeth was not extinguished.
“Please consider yourself welcome in Hertfordshire,” said Mrs. Bennet, shifting 0at once to flattery to make her case. “Meryton is naught but a small neighborhood, but we are fond of it. I hope you are pleased with your new acquaintance with my family.”
“Very much,” said the girl in a shy tone, her eagerness not hidden under her reserve. “I wish to be the greatest of friends.”
“That would be wonderful, my dear,” replied Mrs. Bennet.
“You seemed to get on at once with Lizzy, and I do not think you could find a better friend. Lizzy is, you understand, the cleverest of my daughters, though I do not hold with such book learning in ladies. A young girl in your situation would do well to emulate her, for Elizabeth’s ability to put others at ease is legendary in these parts. ”
This, unfortunately, was only the beginning, as Mrs. Bennet extolled Elizabeth’s virtues to the young girl she now suspected of being a future relation by marriage.
It was clear in Miss Darcy’s face that she understood the overt flattery and was made uncomfortable by it.
Some of Mrs. Bennet’s statements were nonsensical, some were overt misrepresentations, and others had no discernable relevance to the subject.
After a time of this, salvation came from a most unexpected source.
“Do you spend much time in London, Miss Darcy?”
Kitty, who had spoken, received a scowl from her mother for her trouble, yet Miss Darcy responded at once and with a certain measure of relief. “Perhaps half the year. When I am not at Pemberley with my brother, we are often in town.”
“I have not been to London often,” said a wistful Kitty. “My sisters go frequently to stay with my aunt and uncle.”
“You could go more often if you wished it, Kitty,” said Mary, a clear reference to the girls’ frequent complaints of boredom when visiting Gracechurch Street.
Then Mary fixed her attention on Miss Darcy and said: “I understand you have access to masters? I have had some instruction but have largely taught myself to play. Greater training would improve my playing.”
Miss Darcy directed a tentative smile at Mary. “It sounds like you enjoy playing as much as I do myself.”
As the younger girls warmed to their conversation, Mary and Georgiana speaking of music while Kitty attempted to draw her into a discussion of subjects more to her taste, Jane reflected that the worst of the crisis had passed.
Miss Darcy appeared more at ease speaking with girls her age, which Jane reflected was no great surprise.
Mrs. Bennet, it appeared, was content to allow her daughters to cultivate friendships with the girl, despite her wish of eliciting information from her.
With Elizabeth the recipient of Mr. Darcy’s admiration and Mary and Kitty becoming friends with her, Mrs. Bennet would expect the imminent announcement of an engagement.
Whether that would come to fruition Jane could not say, though she espoused greater doubts given the information she possessed that her mother did not.
Yet, Jane had detected a softness in Elizabeth’s manners toward Mr. Darcy when he had appeared, and a general sense of greater approval since her return from Kent.
There was no telling if that improved opinion would lead anywhere, regardless of their mother’s assurance.
Jane was hopeful, for the thought occurred to her that Elizabeth marrying Mr. Darcy might put her in Mr. Bingley’s company again.
Then she could discover if Elizabeth’s opinion concerning the Bingley sisters’ scheming to separate them was the truth.