Chapter XIV
“What did Papa mean, Lizzy?”
Caught up in her thoughts as she was, the question surprised Elizabeth. Seeing it, Lydia huffed her annoyance and clarified her question.
“He said you had seen matters more clearly than he. What did he mean?”
For a long moment, Elizabeth regarded her sister as they walked along the track to Longbourn, wondering if she should openly acknowledge her attempt to induce her father’s reconsideration.
Lydia looked on her with a mixture of expectation and impatience, and this, as much as anything else, informed Elizabeth there was little need to conceal it.
Perhaps Lydia would learn something further.
“The invitation to Brighton,” said Elizabeth. “When you received it, I spoke to Papa to persuade him against giving you permission.”
Lydia gaped at her, aghast at Elizabeth’s confession. “You tried to prevent me from going to Brighton?” The question was nearly a screech.
“Do you propose to make an issue of this now, considering the events of this day?”
Elizabeth’s harsh reprimand silenced her sister.
Lydia did not know whether she should hold to her offense for the insult or subside for fear of making matters worse.
Perhaps it was Elizabeth’s continued glare, warning her sister that she must remain silent, but Lydia did nothing more than huff in exasperation and kick at an inoffensive pebble.
“Do you not now think I was correct?” asked Elizabeth in a tone deceptively mild.
“I might have been married now,” muttered Lydia.
“I know you are not so senseless as to believe that,” reprimanded Elizabeth. “The suspicions you held of Mr. Wickham and his reprehensible way of confirming all must tell you that at least.”
“Yes, I suppose you are correct,” muttered Lydia.
“This business of you wishing to be the first to marry has always confused me,” said Jane.
Lydia regarded her, not quite understanding her meaning. “Is it not our goal in life to be married? Mama drones on and on about it at all hours of the day and night.”
Ignoring the slight to their mother, Elizabeth said: “Mama believes that is the path to our security. While I would agree that marriage can be a path to a fulfilling life, one cannot consider matrimony without recognizing that not all men are suitable, even if they are veritable paragons of male virility. Even if Mr. Wickham had not been the worst sort of rogue, do you suppose he could support a wife on the pay of a militia lieutenant?”
Contemplation took the place of confusion, and Lydia sighed. “I never considered that.”
“More than that,” said Jane, nodding to Elizabeth, “I cannot imagine why you aspire to marry so early.”
“I should not wish to remain a spinster,” protested Lydia.
“Most ladies do not,” said Jane. “But you are pretty, young, and lively, and you enjoy society and all it entails. Marriage, Lydia, is a rewarding state, but it also entails more responsibility than you have as a young, unmarried girl. You are yet fifteen and need not think of marriage for another five years at least. Why rush it and interrupt the fun you will have?” Jane turned an arch look on Elizabeth.
“Especially when it appears you will gain access to higher society.”
“I am not engaged, Jane,” protested Elizabeth.
“No, dear sister, you are not,” replied Jane, reaching out to pat Elizabeth’s hand with affection. “But I dare say Mr. Darcy wishes you were.”
While Elizabeth had expected Lydia to exclaim on the subject, she remained silent, regarding Elizabeth and contemplating what Jane had said.
Elizabeth had no notion the experience would impart any sense to her youngest sister, but perhaps she would put this silly wish of marrying first aside.
Lydia concentrating on her amusements in society was far preferable to the girl doing everything she could to attach herself to any man she chanced to meet.
She might not be any more proper, but at least she would not be seeking to ruin them all.
Recent days had altered her family to a certain extent, for while Mrs. Bennet had often been oblivious, she sensed a change in them when they entered the house.
The scene as they departed kept her from speaking; for the moment, she appeared willing to wait for her husband’s return to have her questions answered.
While Mary, Kitty, and Georgiana sat together speaking, Mrs. Bennet looking on and adding occasional comments herself, she paid less attention to the younger girls and more to the newcomers.
“What is it?” demanded she after a moment of studying them, proving Elizabeth’s conjecture incorrect. “Did something happen while you were in Meryton?”
“Something did happen, Mama,” replied Elizabeth.
Lydia shot her a pleading look overflowing with desperation, but Elizabeth shook her head.
“You do not suppose you can keep this a secret, do you? Papa will return with the gentlemen before long, and he will not remain silent.”
“I knew something was amiss!” shrilled Mrs. Bennet. “Lydia, what have you done?”
“Nothing irreversible, Mama,” soothed Jane.
“But Lydia has had an adventure this morning,” said Elizabeth. “And we had best inform you of it.”
Brevity, as the bard had expounded, was the soul of wit, and even if Elizabeth did not feel witty, she attempted to explain the matter as succinctly as she could manage.
Before long, she had laid the facts of the morning’s events, the reason for Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s presence, and the truth of George Wickham’s intrigues.
To say Lydia’s intentions horrified her mother conveyed nothing of the truth of her reaction.
“Lydia!” screeched she before Elizabeth had even finished relating the salient point. “How could you?”
“He was so very handsome, Mama,” whined Lydia.
“Attraction to a man is all well and good,” said Mrs. Bennet. “What I cannot understand is why you would maintain an interest in Mr. Wickham. Can you not see how interested Mr. Darcy is in your sister? Do you not suppose you can do much better than a lowly militia officer?”
“Mama!” exclaimed Elizabeth, feeling her cheeks heat. “Mr. Darcy has made no overtures to me.”
“Perhaps he has not,” interjected Georgiana, mimicking Jane’s earlier assertion. “But I know my brother; his wishes are not opaque. And I would not object to having you as a sister!”
Elizabeth did not know how to react, for she suspected Georgiana knew exactly what had passed between her and Mr. Darcy at Hunsford.
Mrs. Bennet looked on, watching them all with self-satisfied contentment, though she occasionally glared at Lydia.
Jane appeared pleased, while Mary and Kitty displayed various levels of curiosity and surprise.
“Lizzy is to marry Mr. Darcy?” ventured Kitty after a moment’s hesitation.
“We have no understanding,” said Elizabeth. “I beg you all to drop this subject, for it is not proper. I have no notion of what the future will hold, but at present, any such talk is highly premature.”
“That is likely for the best,” said Mrs. Bennet, the most implausible person in the room to make such a statement. “It would be best to allow Mr. Darcy to come to the point in his own time.”
Kitty giggled, and Georgiana whispered something in her ear, provoking her to even greater merriment. Ignoring the girls, Mrs. Bennet once again fixed a gimlet eye on her youngest.
“I hope you have learned something, Lydia.”
The girl scowled and pouted. “You must all think I am senseless,” grumbled she.
“For my part,” said Georgiana, “I have no room to judge. If you recall, Mr. Wickham used me as he tried to use you; that renders me unfit to comment.”
“Perhaps you have been silly, Lydia,” said Elizabeth, nodding at Georgiana. “Our most poignant feelings, however, are concern for you and relief that you have escaped a horrible fate at Mr. Wickham’s hand. Can you now understand he never meant to marry you?”
“I suppose I must,” said Lydia. “What do you think was his purpose?”
Elizabeth glanced at Georgiana, who shot her a grim look, proving she understood Mr. Wickham’s motive as well as Elizabeth did herself. “It would be better to wait for the gentlemen to return, Lydia,” said she. “I would not wish to speculate until we have all the facts.”
The girl huffed her annoyance, but she did not protest. For a time, the ladies sat together in quiet conversation, Lydia slowly gravitating to the younger girls, drawn into their conversation.
Elizabeth considered all that had happened, and for her personally, the even more profound experience of speaking with Mr. Darcy that morning.
While any interpretation of her feelings was impossible and much time would pass before they would provide clarity, she knew she was closer to accepting Mr. Darcy’s interest and more open to the possibility of welcoming his attentions than she had ever been before.
The gentlemen did not return until some time after luncheon, sporting tight expressions of those repressing potent emotions.
The moment they entered the room, Mrs. Bennet’s voice rose in a clamor, demanding they account for what had happened that day.
Mr. Bennet looked to Elizabeth, who nodded to inform him that their mother knew everything she knew, to which he shrugged his understanding they could not keep it from her.
“Yes, Mrs. Bennet, we come bearing word of the despicable Wickham. Some of what we have to say will shock you, to say the least, but we no longer need to worry about him. A transfer to the front lines in Spain is likely in Wickham’s immediate future, and failing that, a ticket to Van Diemen’s Land, with no hope of ever returning. ”
Mr. Bennet paused and shook his head. “Given what I have heard of conditions in the penal colonies, he may wish he had the opportunity for a quick end in Spain if they consign him to the other side of the world.”
“Does he deserve such punishment?” asked Lydia, the timorous question so unlike her usual bravado.