Chapter 21 #6
“As I said, I do not really care. I forbid Darcy to take further measures, and I do not wish to allow you marry to Miss Lydia. That is all I will say for the moment. And I see very little chance of changing my decision by tomorrow—very little chance indeed. I would suggest you return to Mrs Younge and devote your time to considering your choices. I would dare presume that your present situation makes it difficult for you to pay for your room, so here are ten pounds to cover your present expenses.”
“I cannot believe that your lordship is so harsh with me; why are you offending me so cruelly. Why do you enjoy humiliating me with so little consideration?”
“For more than twenty years I showed you nothing but care, affection and understanding, and the results were disastrous. It is time to change my approach.”
“Lord Matlock, please do not desert me, sir. Please tell me what I can do to convince you I have decided to change, that I want to change—that I shall not betray your trust this time. I understand I cannot continue as I have, and I am determined to do my duty. I wish to marry, to have a family… How can you deny me this joy?”
“George, that was an entertaining discussion, but I will leave you now. I must prepare to go out; have a pleasant day,” the earl said with perfect calm as he left the library.
Wickham was immobile and shocked in utter disbelief. He stared at the closed door then his eyes pleaded in panic to the other two gentlemen.
“Darcy, you must help me! Do you wish me to beg you? I will, if that is what you want. I have nowhere to go, and Lydia is waiting for me! I promised her we would marry in a few days! She is Elizabeth’s sister. How can you pain her so deeply?”
“I must leave, too,” Darcy told his cousin, completely ignoring Wickham. He stepped to the door then turned and faced him.
“Wickham, you must know by now that your insincere begging impresses no one. I shall speak to Elizabeth and Mr Bennet now. Your fate depends upon them and upon Lord Matlock’s will.
I would suggest you go home as the earl said and think on what you truly want to do.
We might allow you to speak to us later; by that time, I expect you to present yourself with a promise you can keep.
You said you wish to marry Miss Lydia. Think diligently on what this signifies, what your responsibilities will be, and whether you will be able to fulfil them.
Do not expect that, in doing that, you will find an open door to my house.
You will need many years to prove yourself worthy of enjoying our company again.
Go home, Wickham; meditate on what you did and what you wish to do and we might send for you later tonight.
Have no expectations, only hopes—and pray! ”
“Gibbs, please show Mr Wickham out,” said the colonel. The servant escorted Wickham out, having to push him, as he seemed as steadfast as the wall.
Inside the library, the colonel quickly filled three glasses of brandy then took one, offered the second to his cousin and the third to Lord Matlock, who returned a moment later, looking as troubled as when he left.
“I am glad you understood my intentions so easily,” the earl said.
“Of course we understood; it was quite obvious—as it is obvious that you are not well!”
“No, I am not well, Robert. In truth, I have not been so unwell in a very long time; since we spoke yesterday, I have spent not a moment without blaming myself and—”
“Father, I am truly sorry for upsetting you so; I know I have been unfair.”
“No, Son, please do not apologise; it was my duty as a father to see that my favouring George did not affect you all—and I failed. Your well-deserved outburst opened my eyes; and now I ask again—what should we do with him?”
“Do you believe Wickham will change, Father?”
“Not at all. Unless something truly dramatic occurs to him, George will never change. He will find a way to convince us of his good intentions and promise us again that he will change. But he will not. And to be honest, I could not allow him to fall without lending him a hand. I cannot leave him in debtors’ prison.
I know I am weak, but at least I admit the truth. ”
“So you or Darcy will pay his debts, and you will allow him to marry Miss Lydia.”
“Cousin, it was a truly joyous moment to see Uncle tormenting Wickham. But, to be honest, Wickham was correct: this marriage does not depend on Uncle’s will—or mine.”
“And George will easily understand that as soon as he considers the entire situation. He is no fool. I believe he will be more worried about having his debts paid and a living offered to him than about the marriage itself.”
“I agree, Uncle. We must speak to Mr Bennet; hopefully, he and Elizabeth had more success in changing Miss Lydia’s mind.
In any case, I had already arranged for a special licence to enable a quick marriage.
Also, I will see to his debts, and we must consider an adequate commission for him.
At this point, I can think of nothing to suit him. ”
“Darcy, give me the list of George’s creditors.
George is my responsibility; please allow me to fulfil it without further arguments.
As for a living, if the marriage takes place, I believe the best arrangement will be to purchase him a commission in another regiment somewhere in the North.
I shall speak to my friend, the general. ”
“It will be an important sum,” Darcy said, handing the earl the list, as he understood he had no other choice. “It will very likely be nearly ten thousand pounds.”
“I appreciate your concern, Darcy, but Matlock’s pecuniary situation has significantly improved, especially during the years I worked with Edward Gardiner. Besides, I truly depend on your excellent estate management skills to help me recover that sum shortly,” the earl said, smiling bitterly.
∞∞∞
The moment they arrived in Gracechurch Street, all three were invited into the library where Mr Bennet seemed to be even more distressed and angry than he was earlier; he could do nothing to convince Lydia against marrying Wickham.
He apologised for the dreadful situation that affected them all so greatly—until the earl interrupted him.
Calmly, Lord Matlock informed Mr Bennet of their decision regarding Wickham since the marriage seemed likely.
As they spoke, Elizabeth entered the library, glancing with worry from one man to another. She greeted the colonel, then the earl—who embraced her affectionately—then moved towards Darcy, who took her hands and tenderly put his arm around her shoulders.
“You seemed troubled,” she whispered, holding his gaze.
“I am very well now that I see you again.” He smiled, placing a kiss on her hands.
“Perhaps you two wish to speak in private; do not allow us to disturb you,” the earl said with obvious mockery. Elizabeth’s face turned red.
“Since you mention it—yes I would like to speak to Elizabeth privately with Mr Bennet’s permission. The music room would suffice, I believe,” Darcy answered in earnest. The others stared at him, uncertain whether he were serious or not.
“The music room would be fine,” said Mr Bennet, and without hesitation, Darcy took Elizabeth’s arm and left the library.
He closed the door of the music room and finally looked at Elizabeth, whose eyes were darkened in concern.
He put his arms around her and crushed her against his chest, as though he thought she might escape.
She first remained still in his embrace, obviously surprised, then she allowed her hands to glide around his waist and tightened herself to him until there was only one heart beat and one breath sound.
“Will you not tell me what troubles you so?” she whispered when the silence became unbearable.
He allowed some distance between them then took her hand, and they sat together on the settee.
He just looked at her, his fingers gently caressing her face, then kissed her forehead, cheeks, and temples.
When he stopped, he looked at her again.
She cupped his face with her small hands, her eyes sparkling with tears.
“You must tell me what pains you so, my love.”
He turned his head so that his lips could reach her palm. He then embraced her again, and another long silence followed. She ceased asking, resting her head on his chest and listening carefully to his heart, beating wilder than usual.
“It pains me to think how close I came to never knowing love, happiness and passion. It pains me to realise how different my life would be now. When I left Netherfield in November, I willingly ran away from the most frightening feeling I have ever known—from you—and I was certain my duty demanded it. My heart breaks to know you might have been only a memory.”
His face was as pale, lifeless, and troubled as it was that horrible day in January.
Her heart ached, and her own pain left her breathless.
She cupped his face again, but as he was much taller, his face was still too far from hers, so she daringly struggled to her knees on the couch, so she could hold his eyes.
He smiled at this childish gesture and unexpectedly pulled her onto his lap.
Then he tightly embraced her once more. “You are my joy, Elizabeth,” he whispered.
“And you are my life, William. I have had the same frightening thoughts so many times. Now that I am so close to my happiness, I often worry about how close I came never to know the strength of such feelings. But we should not worry any longer! You must learn some of my philosophy: think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure,” she said, caressing his handsome face.
He smiled. “You are very wise, Miss Bennet. I shall diligently learn any philosophy you will teach me. And you are perfectly right—we should not worry any longer.”