Chapter 25
The journey to Hertfordshire was uneventful and soon the Darcy’s carriage stopped at Longbourn to deliver Elizabeth to her door, and then it carried on to Netherfield.
Mrs Bennet and her other daughters came out to welcome Elizabeth home and thank the Darcys. Lady Anne waved the gratitude away and promised to visit on the following day with Georgiana after they had settled at Netherfield.
Elizabeth smiled and hugged each sibling, declaring that Lydia and Kitty seemed taller, setting the two girls giggling like children.
Once she walked into her old room it felt tiny, especially since for the next few days she would have to share it again, for it belonged to Jane and herself... for at least another week.
For her part, Jane was incandescently happy and when somebody said something to her they had to repeat it, for she would be far away daydreaming, no doubt of her future life.
Elizabeth felt a chill of loneliness, forcing her to consider how she could feel lonely in a much smaller house and one full of people. She had not felt that way since going to London, where she lived in a much larger house with far less people and a lot less noise around her.
But Elizabeth was not made for melancholy, so, when Charlotte came to Longbourn and hugged her tightly, her countenance as well as her spirits rose,
“Oh Elizabeth, I am so grateful that you invited me to Pemberley.”
“Charlotte, you are mistaken; the invitation is not from me but Lady Anne.”
Charlotte frowned, “why would Lady Anne invite me or anybody else so wholly unconnected with her, other than to follow a suggestion from you?”
“Trust me my friend, you have only yourself to thank for the good impression you left upon Lady Anne. As much as I love you I never thought to suggest that the lady invite you to her northern estate.”
Charlotte looked confounded but decided not to inquire any further. She would accept the gift horse without examining its teeth. For her, a summer spent somewhere other than Lucas Lodge would be a treat to remember. She was convinced it might never happen again.
The following days passed in a spring blur. The inhabitants of Netherfield and Longbourn spent most of the days and evenings together, doing one activity or other, while Charlotte was often invited to join them, allowing her to get to know her hosts for the summer a little better.
During the mornings the men went hunting while the women sewed or shopped for Jane and her new home.
In the evenings they dined together, played cards together and even danced together.
Elizabeth again felt uncomfortable, for she began to realise that she perceived the Darcys as quite her own family, often feeling more at home with them than her own flesh and blood.
Occasionally she would feel a stab to her heart when she thought that at the end of the summer she would have to say goodbye to the Pemberley residents, to return to a life that she was not certain she would ever be reconciled to again.
More perversely however, was the often cynical voice that intruded and told her that at the end of the summer she might go, should she choose, to Scotland instead.
She recalled that after a certain memorable dinner at Darcy House, Lord Holton had become quite possessive of her time, claiming her as his companion as often as he could for walks in the park, visits to the museums, to Gunter’s Tea Shop, to Hatchard’s in Piccadilly and even for quiet times reading in the library.
Sometimes he cunningly brought Emily to distract Georgiana, a scheme which delighted both young ladies.
Elizabeth also noticed that during her maiden London season, Darcy would frequently disappear as soon as Lord Holton arrived, as if the sight of the man alone was disturbing.
He became more aloof and often passed full days without saying a single word to her, other than good morning or good night.
He appeared displeased every time Elizabeth entered a room, to the point that she felt obliged to talk to Lady Anne about it.
Lady Anne simply dismissed Elizabeth’s worries, saying that her son was burdened with business and estate matters.
To be fair, while they were still in London, there had been an unpleasant bit of business that he had to negotiate:
He had received a letter from a Mrs Younge, a new acquaintance of Mr Wickham’s in the Marshalsea, a destitute woman who had become good friends with the man, sharing food as well as other personal favours with him.
Seemingly, Mr Wickham had become ill and needed some respite.
Darcy went to visit him and returned home disturbed. He called his mother to the study to discuss the situation, “Mother, Wickham is not for this world much longer if we leave him there unassisted.”
“What has happened?” She asked alarmed.
“He has become deathly ill. He has lost two stone and is now down to less than ten. He looks at death's door.”
“What kind of illness has afflicted him?”
“I am not certain but I could hazard it has been occasioned by the wretched conditions of the place; impure water, insufficient provisions and a general want of cleanliness.”
“Oh my goodness, is it as bad as that?” Lady Anne placed her hand over her heart.
“It is worse than both you and I can imagine.” Darcy continued, “The Marshalsea is a most dreadful abode, and I confess I should think it scarcely Christian to leave Wickham there to perish, whatever his faults may have been. The place is not fit for a dog. Let us hope that adversity has succeeded where good advice failed, and that he has at length learned some wisdom from his sufferings.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
“He has become acquainted with a Mrs Younge, another bankrupt human being who appears to be much attached to him. I propose that we discharge their debts, procure for them passage to America, and furnish them with a sum sufficient to establish themselves upon their arrival. Having done so, we may leave them to succeed or fail according to their own exertions.”
“Yes,” Lady Anne said thoughtfully, “I believe it is the only truly proper thing to be done. By rescuing him from the Marshalsea and rendering him such assistance as his circumstances require, we shall fulfil any duty your father might have felt towards him. At the same time, the hardships he has endured lately may, one hopes, have the beneficial effect of diminishing his selfishness, impressing upon him the fragility of life. These are lessons which he would not have learned had we forgiven him his sins without some degree of punishment. Some lessons are seldom able to be taught without adversity.”
Darcy nodded in agreement, “Very well, then. I shall apply to Mr Gardiner for two berths aboard his vessel. I believe there is a ship preparing to sail in three weeks’ time.”
Thus, their debts having been fully satisfied, an apothecary was sent for, and such medicines as were deemed necessary were immediately procured.
Passage having likewise been secured, the unfortunate pair were removed from the Marshalsea and conveyed to a respectable inn near the docks, where they were to remain until the evening preceding the vessel’s departure for the Americas.
There to seek the fresh beginning which circumstances at home had made impossible, through the fault of nobody else but their own.
Once Darcy saw them settled in a clean and reasonably comfortable room, with decent food and water to drink, he washed his hands of his nemesis,
“I wish you good fortune, George. If you make a hash of it this time please remember to blame yourself. I am done.” He then turned and bowed to the lady, “Mrs Younge.”
With these parting words, Darcy turned his back and never heard of Wickham again for the rest of his life.
***
Jane and Mr Bingley's wedding day dawned bright and clear. Spring was in full swing and the wild flowers on the way from Longbourn to the little village church were rioting as if they were themselves celebrating the wedding of the two most deserving individuals in the kingdom.
Once the vows were spoken and the wedding breakfast eaten and admired, the young couple were ready to board their carriage for the wedding tour.
Jane hugged Elizabeth tightly, “Lizzy, I wish you equal felicity in finding a good man who will light up your heart whenever you look at him.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes as tears ran down her face. The subtle, almost timid smiling face of a most handsome, ideal man with dimples invaded her mind uninvited. I think I have already found him… she thought despondently, it is a pity he has not found me.
Out loud she laughed, “Go beloved, enjoy yourself. Do not waste a single moment thinking about anybody else other than your very handsome and besotted husband.”
Jane did go and Elizabeth’s world for that half a day seemed very bleak. She struggled to inject excitement into her preparations for departure to Pemberley on the following day.
However, Charlotte came to spend the night at Longbourn, in order that the Darcys would have to make only one stop. Her good friend was as excited as a child on Christmas Eve and her enthusiasm slowly turned Elizabeth’s heart from morose to hopeful.
She could only hope that Mr Darcy’s indifference would in time cease to wound her so deeply.
That her heart, having suffered its disappointment might at last, recover some tranquillity.
Perhaps then, its affections would gradually turn towards the gentleman whose attachment to her had remained so constant and seemingly sincere.
She hoped, though not without some apprehension, that she might one day learn to return the love, or at least the friendship, he so freely bestowed.