Chapter 33
WHERE MR BENNET IS INCONVENIENCED BY HIS MOST WORTHLESS SON-IN-LAW AND THEREFORE DISINCLINED TO OBLIGE ANYONE.
Three days passed before Mr Bennet came to London.
It had taken him that long to commit to making a journey that took no more than four hours by carriage when the weather was agreeable.
It had been clear and dry for the past several days, with no clouds in sight.
Elizabeth loved her father, but she had little patience left for his tardiness and neglect, not when something needed to be done about Lydia.
Her youngest sister had been troublesome to her aunt, disrespectful to her uncle, and as petulant and self-centred as ever.
Mrs Wickham wanted to go out, was angry she was forced to remain in the house, and was perturbed about having missed the assembly she had wanted so badly to attend.
Even though her husband had not returned from wherever it was she imagined him to be, she flatly refused to believe her ‘dear Wickham’ had abandoned her forever.
Surely, he had just gone off to see to some important matter of business somewhere and would soon come back again.
If he had lost his way, then Darcy ought to go out and find him.
Short of showing Lydia the letter Wickham had written, which Jane and Bingley insisted would be an unkindness, there was no proof anyone could possibly present to Mrs Wickham to convince her she had been abandoned by her husband.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, astounded by her stubbornness and incomprehension, had offered to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the docks himself.
Surely, hearing a first-hand account of a gentleman fitting Wickham’s description boarding a ship bound for America from five dock workers, three merchants, nine naval officers, and one Bow Street runner would make her see reason—but Elizabeth knew better.
The king himself could announce the news at St James’s Court, but that did not mean Lydia would ever believe him.
It was eventually decided that Mrs Wickham must return to Longbourn, despite her father cheerfully suggesting she remain in town with Jane and Bingley until they returned to Netherfield the following month.
Bingley appeared horrified by the suggestion; Jane blushed and averted her eyes.
Elizabeth was disappointed that he would joke about consigning Lydia to Jane’s care while she was on her honeymoon.
It was in poor taste, but her father just laughed at what he perceived as his own cleverness, opened a thick tome, and waved them off as he engrossed himself in Shakespeare’s Othello.
As Mr Bennet ignored his family in favour of his book, Elizabeth noticed Darcy studying him from across the room.
His countenance revealed nothing of his inner thoughts, but Elizabeth could tell by the rigidity of his posture he was not amused by her father’s flippancy, or his dismissal, or the excess of time it took his future father-in-law to come to town and claim responsibility for his youngest daughter.
That Mr Bennet had failed to reply to the letter Darcy had sent regarding their desire to marry at Pemberley likely added to his annoyance.
Her father’s complacent behaviour raised Elizabeth’s ire as well.
Two days passed and, aside from attending a dinner at Darcy’s home and spending an afternoon at a local bookseller’s, Mr Bennet remained at leisure within the walls of his brother-in-law’s residence and did not venture out.
When Lydia’s insistent speeches about being a married woman and therefore entitled to do whatever she wished became too tiresome for him, he retreated to the peace and quiet of Mr Gardiner’s study.
Elizabeth watched all with a heavy heart.
Her sister’s presence in Gracechurch Street was a burden on the Gardiners in more ways than one, yet her father appeared content to let her aunt—and even Jane and Elizabeth—handle the situation in whatever way she saw fit.
Darcy had attempted to broach the subject of a Christmas wedding at Pemberley on several occasions, but Mr Bennet smoothly changed the topic to books, horses, husbandry, and on one occasion the state of the roads.
Elizabeth could see Darcy’s patience waning and knew if she wished to avoid the issue coming to a head between them, she must speak to her father herself.
The following morning dawned sunny and mild, and Mrs Gardiner and the Bingleys had taken the children to visit the park at the end of the street.
Even Lydia had been permitted to accompany them, though she made it clear she had no interest in seeing a bunch of noisy geese in a dried-up field when she could be enjoying herself in Bond Street.
Mr Gardiner was at his office, but Mr Bennet had cloistered himself in his brother-in-law’s study after breakfast. Though Elizabeth would have preferred to have visited the park with the others, she stayed behind to speak with him.
“Come in, Lizzy,” he said when she appeared at the door.
She took a seat upon an upholstered chair near the fire.
Her father had claimed the other. He was reading the London newspaper, and a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits had been set beside him on a pretty, painted table.
Elizabeth thought he looked as much at home here, in her uncle’s study, as he did at Longbourn in his own.
Without looking up from his newspaper, he said, “Has your sister’s silliness driven you to seek solace in the only room where two words of sense are still spoken together, or do you finally desire a reprieve from Mr Darcy’s incessant attentions?
He appears uncommonly solicitous of you.
What a difference from when you first knew him, eh, Lizzy!
I believe he only thought you merely tolerable then. ”
Elizabeth felt a flush of heat rise along the back of her neck.
“My aunt,” she said sanguinely, choosing to ignore his comments about Darcy, “has taken the children to the park, and Jane and Lydia have gone as well. Mr Darcy has business this morning and will not be able to call until later. Save for the servants, we are quite alone.”
“A rarity indeed!” He licked his fingertip and turned the page. “Are you come to keep me company, or is there something particular you require of me?”
“I would like to speak with you, sir, if I may.”
“Go ahead then, child. You may say your piece and then leave me to mine.”
It was a typical response, one Elizabeth had heard a thousand times from him over the years, but for some reason it sounded very different to her today.
She knew her father loved her and even enjoyed her company.
He had always treated her with a marked preference and a consideration he rarely showed to any of her sisters; but at that moment she did not feel favoured—she felt placated and dismissed.
“I understand that Mr Darcy has acquainted you with our desire to marry in the chapel at Pemberley before Christmas. I would like to hear your opinion on the subject.”
Mr Bennet shook his head. “Finding husbands and planning weddings is your mother’s business. I have no opinion whatsoever on the subject, aside from advising you that marrying anywhere other than Longbourn will never do for your mother.”
“Since it is not my mother’s wedding but my own, I fail to see how my marrying at Pemberley should affect her to such a degree.
Surely, it is my own satisfaction and Mr Darcy’s that matters most on the occasion.
Mamma can have no objections. Mr Darcy’s home is warm and elegant, the grounds are beautiful, and Mr Darcy’s aunt, the Countess of Carlisle, has graciously offered to arrange the wedding breakfast.”
Her father lowered his newspaper. “Gracious and willing though Mr Darcy’s aunt may be, your mother has been chattering non-stop about gowns and gloves and flowers and all manner of useless frippery for the past fortnight.
Do not get me started on the breakfast—the courses, the cake, the seating arrangements!
” He rolled his eyes. “In any case, her heart is set on having this event at Longbourn, where she can show you and Mr Darcy off to our friends and neighbours like a pair of lions at the London Tower. She will no doubt consider herself extremely ill-used if she were denied the pleasure. I would not attempt it if I were you.” Likely considering the topic closed, he returned his attention to his reading.
Elizabeth, however, would not be dismissed. “Papa, Mr Darcy has his heart set on marrying me at his home, in his family chapel upon Pemberley’s grounds. I see no reason why we cannot oblige him.”
“And I see no reason why we should have to oblige Mr Darcy by going all the way to Pemberley when our home is at Longbourn.” He turned to the next page of his paper, shook out the creases, and recrossed his legs.
Elizabeth did not think it possible for her tolerance for her father’s complacence to deteriorate further, yet it did.
Somehow, she managed to keep the tone of her voice equitable.
“It is Mr Darcy’s dearest wish to marry me from his beloved home.
It is the least we can do considering all he has done. ”
“And what pray has Mr Darcy done that merits our running all over England to accommodate him? He is certainly rich and therefore used to having his way, but that is hardly reason enough for us to submit to his whims. No, Lizzy. Let him come to us.”
“I do not wish to make Mr Darcy come to us,” she said as the last vestige of her patience waned. “We are indebted to him.”
Her father stared at her in confusion. “Indebted to him? How are we indebted to him? In what way?”