Chapter 22
Consequences and Confessions
The return was heard before it was announced. Lydia ran to the window; Kitty followed; Mrs. Bennet, though she declared she would remain composed, was already halfway to the door.
“They are come! Mr. Bennet is with them, oh! I feared he might be drawn into a fight…”
Mr. Bennet entered with a composure that might have suggested he had simply taken an ordinary morning walk, had not his reception immediately contradicted it.
“My dear Mr. Bennet!” cried his wife. “What has happened? You have been gone an age. Are you unhurt?”
“I am, I assure you,” he replied. “Though I find myself quite hungry after this exertion. You greet me as if I had returned from a campaign.”
“You have returned from one,” Lydia declared. “And we must know everything.”
Mr. Bennet cast a glance toward Darcy and Bingley.
“The matter is settled,” he said. “Mr. Wickham will not trouble this neighbourhood again.”
“How so?” Mrs. Bennet demanded.
“He will be dealt with by his commanding officer for conduct unbecoming a gentleman. He will receive ten lashes,” Mr. Bennet replied.
A collective exclamation followed.
Bingley seemed like he wanted to say something, but Mr. Bennet continued.
“And he will either remain strictly within the camp or be sent to join a regiment abroad. The colonel was at first inclined to shield him. Still, he was made to understand that the concerns of this neighbourhood would not be easily disregarded and that they might be represented even higher still if necessary. He was soon convinced.”
“And properly served!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Such behaviour! In my garden!”
Lydia looked aghast. “Ten lashes, Papa?”
Mr. Bennet raised a brow. “He deserves it.”
“I would have given more,” she returned.
“It is not a punishment I should recommend for anyone,” he said dryly.
“He accosted my sisters. In our own garden. To think I thought him handsome.”
Kitty shuddered; Mary looked grave; Mrs. Bennet declared it entirely just.
Throughout it all, Darcy remained somewhat apart, receiving thanks where they were offered, but not seeking them.
Elizabeth watched him. This had not been her father’s doing alone or at all.
When the first bustle subsided and Mrs. Bennet had turned her attention toward ordering a more substantial luncheon than had originally been intended, Elizabeth moved toward Darcy.
“You have been very active this morning,” she said quietly.
“I have done only what was necessary.”
“My father appears to have done a great deal.”
“He has,” Darcy replied. “He was very decided.”
Elizabeth looked at him – steadily. “And you?”
There was the slightest pause. “I accompanied him.”
It was not an answer – and yet, it was. Elizabeth’s expression softened. “I believe,” she said, “that I understand you very well.”
His gaze met hers briefly. “I should be glad of that.”
***
The meal that followed bore all the marks of Mrs. Bennet’s agitation transformed into hospitality.
There was more food than necessary, more movement than convenience required, and a general determination that nothing should appear less than perfectly managed.
Mr. Bennet bore his consequence with calm amusement. “If this is the reward of heroism,” he observed, “I may be tempted to undertake it more frequently.”
“You shall do no such thing,” his wife returned. “We cannot have villains in the garden every day.”
Bingley laughed; Lydia declared it would be vastly entertaining; Jane tried, unsuccessfully, to restore order to the conversation.
Georgiana, though quieter than before, was no longer distressed. She remained near Elizabeth, as though still deriving comfort from her presence.
Darcy watched her more than once.
After the meal, Darcy requested a few moments alone with his sister. They withdrew to a smaller room. He did not speak at once.
“I hope your visit has not been entirely spoiled by his appearance,” he said at last.
“You could not have prevented it,” Georgiana replied softly.
He was silent a moment. “I have been mistaken in him before,” he said.
“I ought not to have allowed him the opportunity of being near you again.” He looked away.
“I believe he came because he had learnt something about Miss Elizabeth and me. I am not certain what his purpose was today, but maybe it is better that I do not know.”
She looked at him. “What if he leaves his post?”
“He will not do so without consequence,” Darcy returned. “And precautions will be taken. You need not fear him. Only – do not go anywhere unattended.”
She hesitated only a moment. “I cannot believe I was so deceived,” she said.
Darcy inclined his head. “You were not to blame. I should have spoken sooner. I did not imagine he would dare so much.”
She drew a breath. “What will you do now?”
He hesitated slightly. “Georgie, I must speak to Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “There are things she ought to know – particularly of Ramsgate. I do not want to have any concealment between us.”
Georgiana’s colour rose. “Must you?”
“I would not act without your consent,” he said at once.
She was silent a moment. “If you believe it right… then I shall trust your judgement.”
His expression softened. “Thank you, my dear. Miss Elizabeth might help you. You must not fear her opinion.”
“If you say so.”
He moved toward the door, then paused. “I shall ask Miss Elizabeth to join us.”
Darcy returned within a few minutes, Elizabeth beside him. Georgiana rose at once, her composure visibly strained, though she made an effort to receive Elizabeth with calm.
“My sister has consented,” Darcy said, addressing Elizabeth with quiet gravity, “that I should explain what has passed between her and Mr. Wickham in the past. I thought you should know. I must ask you not to repeat it.”
Elizabeth raised her brow slightly at first, then inclined her head, her expression attentive.
Darcy did not immediately sit. “As you already know, Mr. Wickham applied to me once more, after the greater part of his fortune had been spent, declaring his situation to be desperate and expressing a willingness to take orders. That was the last I saw him until this summer,” he began.
“When Miss Darcy was in Ramsgate, she was placed under the care of a companion who, unfortunately, proved unequal to the trust placed in her. During that time, Mr. Wickham contrived to renew his acquaintance with her.”
Georgiana lowered her eyes.
“He persuaded her,” Darcy continued, more steadily, “that he was attached to her – that his intentions were honourable – and that an immediate marriage would secure their happiness.”
Elizabeth’s expression did not change, but her attention sharpened.
“My sister,” he said, more quietly, “was prevailed upon to consent to an elopement.”
A brief silence followed.
“I was fortunate enough,” he continued, “to arrive before the scheme could be completed. The design was abandoned, and Mr. Wickham quitted the place.”
Elizabeth drew a slow breath.
“Miss Darcy’s fortune is considerable, I imagine?” she asked.
Georgiana started; Darcy, observing Elizabeth closely, replied, “It amounts to thirty thousand pounds.”
“Good Heavens.” Elizabeth turned then – not to Darcy, but to Georgiana. “You believed him?” she asked gently. The question was not unkind – but it was direct.
Georgiana flushed deeply. “I did.”
“And you meant to go with him.”
“Yes.”
“Poor Georgiana – how very little you can have understood of the danger.” Elizabeth regarded her steadily. “You did not fully understand what would have followed?”
Georgiana’s voice faltered. “I did not think – I did not understand…”
“You were prepared to leave your family, your brother, without the knowledge or consent of those entrusted with your care? Georgiana, you were not even out.”
Darcy shifted slightly. “Miss Elizabeth…”
But she did not look at him. “You trusted a man who had not earned your trust,” she said. “You would have left your family, your name, your protection – upon his word alone.”
Georgiana’s hands trembled. “I thought him sincere,” she said.
Elizabeth’s tone softened – but only slightly. “You were fortunate,” she said, “that your brother did not. You had been taught better than to place yourself so entirely in a man’s power. Did you truly believe he could honourably protect you?”
She shook her head.
Elizabeth sighed very quietly. “You must understand,” Elizabeth continued, more gently now, “how nearly you were undone. You would not have been accepted in any respected household. But that is not all… This would not have had a devastating effect only on you, but also on your brother.”
Georgiana looked up – startled. “My brother?”
Darcy moved as if to speak but checked himself.
Elizabeth turned toward Darcy briefly, then returned her attention to Georgiana. “Yes,” she said. “Do you suppose the world would have separated your ruin from his? That his name would not have suffered with yours?”
Georgiana’s composure gave way at last. “I did not think – I never thought…”
“No,” Elizabeth said more gently. “You did not think – not enough.” Then, more quietly: “But you will think now.”
Georgiana covered her face, then lowered her hands. “I shall never forget it,” she said.
Elizabeth’s expression changed then – completely. “I hope not,” she said. “Because remembering it may be the very thing that secures your happiness.”
Another silence – very different now.
Darcy had not spoken. He did not know what he had expected from Elizabeth, and for that reason, he was, for a moment, taken by surprise. Yet as she spoke to his sister, his regard did not lessen. It deepened.
Elizabeth met his gaze only briefly. Then she turned again to Georgiana. “You have nothing now to fear from him,” she said. “That is over.”
Georgiana nodded.
“And you have your brother,” Elizabeth added, more softly. “Which is a far better protection than any Mr. Wickham could pretend to offer.”
At that, Georgiana’s lips trembled into the faintest smile.
“And, if you like, you have me, too.”
Darcy drew a breath.