Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
MONDAY 14 OCTOBER 1811
LONGBOURN
A lmost a week after the shocking news of Elizabeth’s elopement shattered the fragile peace at Longbourn, Mr. Bennet finally emerged from his study. He had confined himself there for days, unable to face the world or his family after the devastating blows of Elizabeth’s sudden departure and Jane’s uncharacteristic outburst. The weight of his daughters' actions pressed heavily on him, leaving him reeling from his failure as a father. Even the servants, who were usually indifferent to his moods, now seemed to glance at him with a mixture of pity and disdain. Yet, the truth behind it all was far worse than any of them could imagine.
While desperation and guilt gnawed at him, Mr. Bennet had never been a man to confront his faults head-on. Instead, he chose to push the blame elsewhere. Unwilling to endure any more criticism—real or imagined—he decided to inform his cousin, Mr. Collins, of Elizabeth’s actions. He wrote a curt letter, stating that his intended bride had absconded, her whereabouts unknown. He made no mention of the circumstances, of his failure to protect his daughter, or of the deeper troubles that plagued the Bennet household. To him, the letter was nothing more than a formality, a way to distance himself from the mess that had unfolded.
As he sealed the letter, Bennet felt an odd sense of relief. What would come of it, he did not care. It was out of his hands now, or so he told himself. But rather than send a servant to deliver it, he chose to walk to the post office in Meryton himself. Perhaps the fresh air would clear his mind, or perhaps it was an attempt to escape the silent judgement of Longbourn, if only for a short while. He tucked the letter into his coat and set off, unaware of the chain of events his missive would soon set into motion.
When Mr. Bennet returned home from his errand, he barely had time to remove his outer clothing before his wife appeared in front of him, her expression as sharp as her tone. "So, you are alive," she said tartly, her eyes narrowing. “I suppose that should have been obvious, for I know the servants kept you well supplied with food and alcohol, but I have forbidden them from bringing you any more at present. I have several questions for you, and I demand that you answer them.”
Bennet sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. He had known this confrontation was inevitable the moment he left his study. “Very well,” he replied, rubbing his temple. “Will you join me in my study?”
“No,” she snapped, her mouth twisting into a frown. “You will come to my sitting room. The servants are attempting to restore some semblance of order to your bookroom after your continual presence there. It smells… unpleasant.”
Bennet grimaced but said nothing, reluctantly following her. He knew he had little choice in the matter. Once inside her sitting room, Mrs. Bennet motioned him towards a hard, wooden chair—one she had clearly chosen for his discomfort. She settled herself gracefully into her cushioned armchair, her back straight and her gaze piercing as it swept over him.
Once they were seated, she wasted no time. “So, when Lizzy returned from Derbyshire four years ago, she was engaged, and you did not say a word to anyone about it?” Her voice was sharp, her lips pressed into a tight line.
Bennet nodded stiffly, his hands resting awkwardly in his lap.
“When the gentleman, Mr. Darcy, appeared and made his request, you told him your daughter was already engaged and denied your consent?”
Another nod, slower this time.
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed further, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor. “Was she actually engaged to this Mr. Darcy?”
Bennet nodded again, his jaw tightening as he awaited her reaction.
Mrs. Bennet closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring as she tried to compose herself. When she spoke again, her voice was cold and controlled, but her fury was evident in every word. “Are you incapable of speech, sir? Or will you draw this out and make this interview last twice as long as necessary? Are you being deliberately obtuse, or are you simply as foolish as you accuse me of being?”
Bennet blinked, momentarily stunned. He stared at his wife as though seeing her for the first time. First, Jane had nearly yelled at him, and now here was his wife—sensible, collected, and openly scolding him. Her biting words cut through his usual apathy, leaving him at a loss. While he knew he could end this uncomfortable exchange by simply confessing to the entire story, his stubbornness and pride kept him silent.
He shifted uneasily in the hard chair, finally meeting her gaze. “Forgive me, madam,” he said, his voice subdued. “It was not my intention to be difficult. I simply do not wish to answer your questions. But I suppose that is rather foolish of me, for Lizzy’s actions will affect all of us.” His eyes flickered with something like regret, though he remained resistant, unwilling to fully reveal the truth just yet.
He paused to clear his throat, drew in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled before continuing. “Upon their return from Lambton, Mrs. Gardiner brought me a letter from a young man asking to marry our daughter. They had met and fallen in love, but I was not willing to allow Elizabeth to live so far from me. I convinced myself that their so-called love would not last and did not expect this Mr. Darcy to come for her, that the distance between them would make them come to their senses and decide they had been too impulsive in their declarations. However, I was incorrect. Six weeks later, Mr. Darcy arrived at our home to make his request. I received a warning of his impending arrival, and ensured you and our daughters were away from home that day—it was the day I sent you all to St. Albans to purchase the materials you needed to refurbish the dower house.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded. “Lizzy was merely sixteen at the time, so I can understand you wishing her to wait, but why not insist upon a long engagement rather than an outright denial?”
Bennet hung his head in shame. “I accepted six thousand pounds in exchange for denying the request,” Bennet began, holding up his hand to silence his wife’s outraged exclamation. “At the time the offer was made, I did not know that a proposal was imminent. The sender obviously thought it was so, but I had no reason to expect it. Why would I not have accepted such a large sum to keep my daughter at home longer?
“Soon after receiving that letter, my cousin Collins wrote suggesting I engage one of my daughters to his son, thereby ensuring you would live on the estate for your lifetime. This seemed to be the obvious solution to my problem, so I engaged Elizabeth to William Collins. He is now a rector in Kent and is scheduled to arrive in a fortnight to meet his intended bride.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped in shock, staring at her husband of more than two decades. “When were you planning to tell your family about this arrangement? Does Lizzy even know you engaged her to another man? Why did you never tell me? You let me fret endlessly about being tossed into the hedgerows after your death, thinking you had done nothing to secure our future, while all this time, you had this engagement in place! What would you have done when Lizzy refused to marry Longbourn’s heir? You know how headstrong she is, and there is no way she would have agreed to it, especially if she still had feelings for this Mr. Darcy. You have given her too much independence, made her far too wilful, and she would not have married just because you ordered her to. It serves you right to have the daughter you preferred over all the others defy you in this. And now she has eloped!”
Mr. Bennet sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his own mistakes had finally become too much to bear. He rubbed a hand over his face, his expression a mixture of regret and defeat. “I have been a fool,” he admitted, his voice low and strained. “In all of this, I took what seemed to be the easiest path. I truly believed I could keep Mr. Darcy away, but I was blindsided when he appeared and took her from me regardless. The moment they spoke, they must have realised the truth—that I had lied to them both.” He shook his head slowly, his eyes filled with remorse. “I told Lizzy he never came, and I told Mr. Darcy she was engaged. When he returned, I claimed she was already married. Yet, after just one evening together, all those lies crumbled, and he absconded with her. There is little to be done now,” he added, his voice almost breaking. “I fear Elizabeth is lost to us forever.”
Mrs. Bennet’s face twisted in a mixture of disbelief and anger, her eyes narrowing. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her lips pressing into a thin line before she finally spoke, her voice sharp and laced with unexpected steel. “Why would she be lost to us all? Just because you were foolish enough to try to prevent her from marrying the man she loved does not mean she will sever ties with the rest of us,” she said, her tone harsh and her eyes flashing. “Once she learns about the money you took, yes, it seems likely she will want nothing to do with you, but that is a burden you will have to carry.”
She tapped her foot impatiently, then shot him a pointed look. “Now,” she said, her voice rising slightly, “is Elizabeth specifically named in the marriage contract with Mr. Collins, or might we be able to insist he marry another daughter?”
Mr. Bennet was caught off guard by his wife’s sudden sharpness and the calculating gleam in her eyes. He blinked, his brow furrowing as he nodded slowly. “No, the contract specifically named Elizabeth as the bride,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, “but it did allow for a possible substitution under certain conditions. Specifically, death or injury, not an elopement.” He glanced down at the floor, his fingers absently smoothing the front of his waistcoat as if trying to straighten out the mess he had created.
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him, her lips pursing in thought. She tapped a finger against her chin for several moments, her gaze hard and calculating. “Have you already informed him of what has taken place? Is that why you went into the village?” she asked, her voice cold and clipped.
Bennet exhaled heavily and nodded again. “I did not say what happened exactly,” he replied, meeting her gaze with some hesitation. “Just that she is gone from Longbourn. I suggested that he still come and make a choice of bride from my remaining daughters. I expect he will offer for Jane, for I am not entirely convinced of his sensibility, and Jane is the most beautiful.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened briefly before narrowing into a glare. “Jane is for Mr. Bingley, and Mary will do better for a rector,” she snapped, her voice sharp with determination. “You must do whatever it takes to convince him that Mary is the proper choice for his wife. You will write to him again, an express, to tell him he must come and marry a daughter immediately.”
She began pacing, her brow furrowed in concentration as she strategised, but then she stopped abruptly, fixing him with a suspicious stare. “Is this why you cut our family off from my brother and his wife?” she demanded, her tone accusatory, her arms crossing over her chest as she awaited an answer.
Bennet shifted uneasily under her gaze, his fingers fidgeting as he tried to avoid her piercing stare. “I… yes,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked away, shame flickering across his features as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was all part of keeping Elizabeth away from Mr. Darcy… and from them. I expected they would be in touch with the gentleman and would have demanded a reason. It was easier to withhold their letters and refuse to allow you or our daughters to contact them.”
Mrs. Bennet shook her head, her frustration etched clearly across her features. “You have made an utter mess of this,” she said, her voice laced with indignation. “I will write to my sister Gardiner and explain everything that has transpired, placing the blame squarely where it belongs—on your shoulders. You deserve no less. But we must think about what to say to our friends and neighbours to explain this situation. It would be best to send Jane away so she does not become a distraction for Mr. Collins, though we cannot send her to London. Perhaps we can convince her to visit Lizzy instead.”
She paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “You will inform the servants that all letters arriving at this house are to be delivered directly to me. I will not allow you to create more chaos than you already have. If Lizzy writes to any of us, I intend to ensure her letter reaches the right person. I can only hope the Gardiners will accept my explanation and forgive the rest of us, even if they never forgive you.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, her frustration barely contained.
Bennet had never seen his wife so angry nor so sensible. It would seem that he misjudged not only Elizabeth, but also his wife.