Chapter Twelve
Elizabeth
“The entire evening is ruined,” Lady Hartford declared, pacing the length of Netherfield’s drawing room with agitated steps.
The last of their guests had departed an hour past, yet she remained in her evening dress, too distraught to consider retirement.
“Absolutely ruined. I cannot recall when I have been so mortified. And what of our future? Are we to be cut? An improper embrace has brought down other houses.”
Elizabeth sat rigidly on the sofa, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
The blue silk of her gown, which had seemed so elegant at the ball’s beginning, now felt like a costume from a play she no longer wished to perform.
“Mama, there was no improper embrace. He saved me. I was almost compromised by Mr Wickham. Mr Darcy was helping me to my feet after—”
“It matters not what actually occurred,” Lady Hartford cut her off sharply. “What matters is what people believe they witnessed. And what they believe is that you were discovered in a most compromising position with our steward.”
Jane settled beside Elizabeth on the sofa, her own evening dress of pale-yellow silk a stark contrast to her troubled expression. “I fear Mama speaks truth, Lizzy. I overheard Mrs Young and her daughters discussing the matter with considerable… enthusiasm.”
“Enthusiasm?” Elizabeth’s voice rose despite her efforts at composure.
“They spoke as though it were established fact that you and Mr Darcy had been caught in an inappropriate embrace,” Jane said gently. “Mrs Young declared it the most scandalous thing she had witnessed in twenty years of country assemblies.”
Lady Hartford threw her hands up in despair. “Twenty years! She will dine out on this story for months. By morning, every drawing room in three counties will buzz with speculation about what transpired here this night.”
Lord Hartford, who had been standing silently by the window, finally spoke.
“It need not be a disaster, provided Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley can apprehend this Wickham fellow. Once he is brought before the magistrate, the truth will emerge and Elizabeth’s reputation will be restored.
And our steward will be cleared of this also. ”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, seizing upon this hope. “I am certain Mr Darcy will find him. He was so very angry when he drove the man off. He will do everything in his power to see justice done.”
Her mother turned her sharp gaze upon Elizabeth. “I must say, I always credited you with superior judgement of character. Yet you allowed yourself to be drawn into private conversation with a man you had met but recently. Such behaviour suggests otherwise.”
Elizabeth curled her hands into fists. “I know it was foolish, Mama. But I thought I was perfectly safe. There were other couples on the terrace, after all. They can confirm what truly happened, even if Mr Wickham is not apprehended. They saw me tell Mr Wickham to leave me be.”
Lord Hartford shook his head grimly. “I already spoke with Sir Herbert, who was taking air with his companion when the commotion occurred. He confirms seeing you with a gentleman, but from his position across the terrace, he could not determine whether it was Mr Darcy, Mr Wickham, or perhaps someone else entirely.”
“Someone else?” Elizabeth’s heart sank.
“Lady Margaret concurred. The lighting was poor, and they were attending to their own conversation. They witnessed the disturbance but cannot speak to specific identities.” Lord Hartford’s expression grew more troubled.
“Which means their testimony would prove less helpful than we might hope. And none saw you in the garden, nor Mr Wickham.”
“But Mr Darcy saw everything clearly,” Elizabeth insisted. “He is an honourable man, and he will ensure the truth comes to light. I have complete faith in him.”
Lady Hartford sank into her chair with a theatrical sigh.
“Your faith may prove misplaced. This entire debacle reflects poorly upon our household’s management.
Our steward brought a man of ill repute into our midst and our tenant invited him to a ball at our home.
Neither Mr Darcy nor Mr Bingley sound suited for the positions they seek to fill. ”
Jane shifted uncomfortably beside Elizabeth. “Mr Bingley could hardly have anticipated his guest would behave so abominably.”
“Could he not?” Lady Hartford’s eyes flashed with renewed indignation. “A gentleman of proper breeding would have taken greater care in his associations. This incident only confirms my suspicions about Mr Bingley’s suitability as a connexion for this family.”
“Mama, that is hardly fair—”
“Is it not? He brings unsuitable persons into our home, exposing my daughters to danger and scandal. What does that suggest about his judgement? His character?” Lady Hartford’s voice grew more strident. “Perhaps your father should reconsider the sale of Longbourn entirely.”
Jane’s face went pale at this pronouncement, though she remained silent. Elizabeth watched her sister struggle with the implications, knowing how deeply this would wound her growing attachment to Mr Bingley.
“Surely one unfortunate guest cannot—” Elizabeth began.
“One unfortunate guest has created a scandal that may destroy your reputation,” Lady Hartford cut her off. “Do not ask me to dismiss such consequences lightly.”
They were interrupted by the appearance of Peters, who entered bearing a silver salver. “A message has arrived for your lordship.”
Lord Hartford accepted the folded paper, breaking the seal with quick efficiency. A frown appeared on his forehead.
“What does it say, Papa?” Elizabeth asked, though she dreaded the answer.
“It is from Mr Darcy. He and Mr Bingley have returned from their search. They checked the inn and every public house in the vicinity, but found no trace of Mr Wickham.” Lord Hartford set the letter aside with visible frustration.
“He requests an audience tomorrow morning to discuss their findings—or rather, their lack thereof and next steps.”
“No trace? But surely he cannot have simply vanished.”
“Men like Wickham possess considerable skill at disappearing when circumstances require it,” Lord Hartford replied. “If he departed immediately after the incident, he could be far away by now.”
Lady Hartford’s composure finally cracked entirely. “Then we are ruined. Absolutely ruined. Without apprehending the supposed culprit, Elizabeth appears to have been compromised by our own steward. The scandal will follow us wherever we go.”
“Perhaps Mr Darcy will have better news tomorrow,” Jane suggested hopefully. “He may have discovered some clue, some indication of where Mr Wickham might have gone.”
“I pray you are correct,” Elizabeth said, though uncertainty gnawed at her confidence. “Mr Darcy seemed so determined, so angry on my behalf. Surely he will not rest until justice is served.”
Lady Hartford’s laugh held no humour. “Your faith in our steward’s dedication is touching, though I wonder if it is entirely wise. After all, he bears some responsibility for bringing this crisis upon us.”
“How can you say such a thing? He protected me.”
“Did he? Or did he merely arrive at a convenient moment to appear heroic whilst his associate escaped?” Lady Hartford’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How do we know this entire affair was not orchestrated for his benefit?”
“Mama!” Elizabeth gasped. “You cannot seriously suggest—”
“I suggest nothing. I merely observe that circumstances have aligned remarkably well for a man seeking to elevate his position through marriage to his employer’s daughter.”
The accusation hung in the air like smoke, poisoning everything it touched. Elizabeth felt sick at the implication, whilst Jane looked positively horrified.
“That is a terrible thing to say,” Jane whispered.
“Terrible perhaps, but not impossible,” Lady Hartford replied. “I have seen stranger schemes succeed through planning and convenient timing.”
Lord Hartford held up his hand for silence. “Enough. Such speculation serves no purpose and helps no one. We will hear what Mr Darcy has to report tomorrow and proceed accordingly.”
“And if he has nothing useful to report?” Lady Hartford demanded.
“Then we will face that circumstance when it arises.” Lord Hartford’s tone brooked no further argument. “I suggest we all retire for the evening. Tomorrow will bring its own challenges.”
Elizabeth rose from the sofa on unsteady legs, her mind reeling from the evening’s revelations. “I shall go to my chamber.”
“I will come with you,” Jane offered, but Elizabeth shook her head.
“I require solitude to think.” She paused at the doorway, looking back at her family. “Whatever tomorrow brings, I maintain my faith in Mr Darcy’s honour. He will not allow this injustice to stand.”
As she climbed the stairs to her chamber, Elizabeth tried to hold onto that conviction despite the doubts her mother had planted. Surely Mr Darcy would find some trace of Wickham, some evidence that would restore her reputation and confirm her account of the evening’s events.
He had to.