Chapter Thirty-One
It took Mr. Greyson time, but he finally quieted the crowd enough to say, “Explain your accusation, Mrs. Clegg.”
She looked about, trembling enough that Darcy could see it from where he stood nearly a whole nave away.
“We, the three of us, went to a cottage in Sussex, to discuss how to get back at Miss Elizabeth and how to make Mr. Darcy do right by Miss Bingley.” Mrs. Clegg swallowed.
“I went there to help. I didn’t know anything about Mr. Darcy or Miss Bingley, but I had a grudge against Miss Elizabeth. ”
She broke off and cast Elizabeth a beseeching look. Elizabeth stared back blankly, hand clutching Darcy’s.
Mrs. Clegg cleared her throat. “I was also there to chaperone Miss Bingley, only, one day I saw a newspaper report of the engagement of Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mr. Darcy. It was Bennet with two n’s not Benet with one n, and that got me thinking.
I knew it was wrong, but I went into Miss Bingley’s things.
I found a letter she was writing to her sister, and in it she asked if the newspaper report of Elizabeth Benet being engaged to Mr. Darcy was true.
She used only one n. I then realized I knew her handwriting.
It was the same as in the letter I thought Miss Elizabeth sent me, about my mother’s likeness. The one that…that made me so angry.”
Mr. Greyson quieted the churchgoers again. “Continue, please, Mrs. Clegg.”
“I…I asked Mr. Wickham about it, him seeming amiable like, and he confessed to me that there was no secret engagement. That Miss Bingley was working to trap Mr. Darcy, and when she did, she planned to give Mr. Wickham a thousand pounds. He said he was certain he could get her to give me something, too.” Mrs. Clegg stood up straighter.
“But I left them there. I thought I was getting back at someone who’d been right cruel to me, not helping trap a gentleman into marrying a woman like her. ” She pointed at Miss Bingley.
Darcy studied Wickham, taking in the way his gaze darted about the church, assessing. He didn’t still appear worried. More…expectant.
“You left them there?” Mrs. Bingley said sharply. She exchanged a quick look with her husband. “You left Miss Bingley and Mr. Wickham living alone in a cottage?”
Miss Bingley’s face went white, but her hauteur didn’t dim. “She lies. Why would you believe a madwoman who attacked Miss Bennet?”
“Mr. Wickham?” Mr. Greyson asked. “Did you reside alone in a cottage with Miss Bingley?”
Raking a final assessing gaze over the church, Wickham let his shoulders sag and his head droop.
“I did, and I can bear this lie no longer. The Darcys have always been good to me. Even for a thousand pounds, more than enough to clear all my debts, I cannot consign Darcy to this fate.” Wickham’s head came up, his expression suddenly incredulous.
“In fact, if anyone has compromised Miss Bingley and should marry her, it is me.”
Miss Bingley’s face went from white to scarlet. Jabbing a finger into Wickham’s chest, she screeched, “You…you…”
He caught her hand in both of his and dropped to a knee among the pews. “Miss Bingley, I have wronged you. I have publicly shamed you. Permit me to make it right. Marry me.”
The church erupted once more into chaos, but nothing was so loud as Miss Lydia’s scream. At least, Darcy reflected, they now knew Wickham’s real goal. Why get only a thousand pounds, when a marriage settlement would give him much more?
Mr. Greyson restored order and asked, “Miss Bingley, do you withdraw your objection to the marriage of Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
Before she could speak, Mr. Phillips said, “Doing so has no impact on your ability to sue for breach of promise, although it would be unlikely such a suit would succeed.”
Miss Bingley looked at Mr. Wickham, tears and anger in her eyes, and said, “Yes.”
Darcy realized that the spectacle was played out and had done so precisely as Wickham intended.
Eventually, people filed from the church in clusters, everyone babbling about what they’d seen.
Bingley and Jane rushed over to Miss Bingley, who fought back tears.
The Bennets and Phillips bundled a wailing Lydia from the church, Gavin Murphy with them.
Mr. Greyson, Darcy noticed from the corner of his eye, went to speak with the local curate before following the Lucases out.
Elizabeth tugged his hand. “I wish to speak with Mrs. Clegg. Will you come with me?”
Darcy nodded, permitting Elizabeth to lead him to the back of the church.
He expected Mrs. Clegg to be gone, but she remained, huddled in the corner to the left of the church door.
She watched them approach, still nervous, but made no effort to avoid them.
When they neared, she stood straighter. Behind Darcy and Elizabeth, people continued to file out.
Some stopped to watch, but Darcy glared at them and made a sweeping motion with his hand. They left.
“Miss Bennet,” Mrs. Clegg greeted. “I…I’m so sorry. I had no thought the letter was forged. It made me so angry that you, some unknown cousin, would be so cruel to me, but that is no excuse. I should not have behaved the way I did. I lost my temper. I’m ashamed and sorry.”
“I understand. You’d lost your brother, I believe the last member of your family, and then a stranger told you she’d burned your mother’s likeness. I would be angry as well.”
Mrs. Clegg grimaced. “But you wouldn’t attack anyone or agree to be Miss Bingley’s companion while she and Mr. Wickham worked out schemes to harm others.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Likely not, but I haven’t suffered the losses you have. I cannot know to what that would drive me, and hopefully never will.”
Mrs. Clegg gave her a trembling smile. “You’re a good soul, Miss Bennet. I can see why William was so taken with you, so much so that he changed his will.”
“I am sorry about the will.”
Mrs. Clegg shook her head. “Better it all went to you. Before redoing it, he’d left everything to Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
“Can you tell us where to find you?” Elizabeth asked. She cast Darcy a quick, questioning look before adding, “We can bring you the painting of your mother later today.”
Tears welled in Mrs. Clegg’s eyes. “Thank you. That would be very kind.”
After taking Mrs. Clegg’s address, a room she’d rented under a false name in a farmhouse outside Meryton, Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and they left the church, only to find a cluster of curious people, but that their family members had departed, even Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley, who must have gone with the Bingleys.
“I think they forgot us,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. She cast him a quick look. “I could walk home.”
“I would be pleased to take you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Alone? In your carriage, Mr. Darcy?”
Heat raced through him. “We are to marry Tuesday.”
The arch look left her face in a flash of worry. “Are we? I suppose after Miss Bingley’s withdrawing her objection, it counts as reading the banns for us a third time?”
“I should hope so,” he said as they headed to his carriage. He handed Elizabeth inside, then directed his driver to Goldfinch Cottage and climbed in after her.
Elizabeth had settled into the backward facing seat. Thoughtful, she asked, “Do you know how much Lady Catherine gave me, once everything was settled?”
Darcy shook his head and knocked on the ceiling to set them in motion. He’d given Elizabeth the envelope from his aunt, but hadn’t pried. “I’ve no idea.”
“I believe it’s enough for my father to rebuild.”
“Will you give the money to him?”
“I believe I will give him most of it, if you do not mind, but I will stipulate that he can use it as he will. He doesn’t have to rebuild if he doesn’t wish to, but I truly believe Mr. Collins owed my father that money.”
“He did destroy nearly everything your family owned.” Darcy studied Elizabeth a moment, finding her exceptionally lovely in the swath of winter light coming in the carriage window. “You said most of it.”
“I’d thought, and please don’t think me frivolous, but I’d thought to give the remainder to Mary, to help her and Gavin begin their business." She peered across the carriage at him. "Why the smile?"
"I already gave Gavin a loan, for that very purpose."
"Oh. Do you think they could use more?"
"Perhaps you should ask the advice of your Uncle Gardiner."
"Not of you?"
Darcy shook his head.
Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow. "Do you mean to tell me that the great Fitzwilliam Darcy doesn't know everything?"
"It takes a wise man to know what he doesn't know,” he returned with fake pomposity.
Elizabeth chuckled.
When they arrived at Goldfinch Cottage, Elizabeth went in alone and came back out with the gold framed painting of Mr. Collins’ mother. “Lydia is still shrieking. I don’t believe anyone has even noticed I’m not home.”
Darcy reflected it was a good thing they were about to marry, with such shoddy chaperoning. Together, they went to call on Mrs. Clegg, who received them in the farmhouse kitchen. Refusing the offer of a seat or tea, Elizabeth handed Mrs. Clegg the picture of her mother in the gold frame.
Mrs. Clegg stared at the image for a long moment, tears forming in her eyes. Movements quick, she set the painting down and reached into a drawer, her hand coming back out holding a knife.
Elizabeth gasped and shrank back against Darcy. He put an arm around her with the half-formed thought of pushing her behind him, but Mrs. Clegg aimed for the picture. She carefully cut the canvass along the frame, then removed the portrait. She put the knife away and picked up the frame.
“You should take this,” she said, holding the frame out to Elizabeth. “William would wish you to have it.”
“Are you certain?” Elizabeth asked, sounding confused.
Mrs. Clegg nodded. “The frame is gold. A smaller wooden one will do for this picture and will not be a temptation to thieves.”
Elizabeth nodded and accepted the frame. Voice soft, she said, “She was very lovely. I’m happy you have her likeness. She belongs with you.”
Mrs. Clegg nodded and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes.
“My mother was a good woman who married a difficult man. William was only eleven when she died. I was twenty. I tried to be a buffer between William and our father but…” She sighed, shaking her head.
“I simply couldn’t endure living with our father.
I deserted William little more than a year after our mother’s death, marrying the first man who would take me.
William never forgave me for leaving. I don’t blame him.
Living with our father was only bearable when our mother was alive.
” She dabbed her eyes again and mustered a smile.
“Thank you for the picture. Looking at my mother’s likeness reminds me that I did have one good person in my life. ”
Elizabeth murmured her sympathy, more comfort than Darcy would have offered someone who’d attacked him, and said, “Thank you for speaking out in the church.”
“Once I knew Miss Bingley wrote those letters, I realized I couldn’t believe anything she’d told me, which is why I went to Mr. Wickham for the truth, but after what happened in the church, I think he fooled us both.
Her into spending so much time with him, and me into publicly decrying her.
” Mrs. Clegg shook her head. “All I could think was, Mr. Darcy shouldn’t duel over such lies, but now she’s no choice but to marry him. That’s my fault.”
“I don’t have much sympathy for her,” Darcy admitted.
Elizabeth nodded. “She was trapped into a union while attempting to trap someone into a union. It seems only just.”
Not really trapped, Darcy thought. If she had any sense, she would refuse to marry Wickham, despite her ruined reputation.
Her twenty thousand pounds would still get her someone.
But she probably didn’t realize how bad a husband Wickham would be.
He could be charming when he wished, and he’d obviously already been charming her, or she wouldn’t have been beguiled into his scheme.
Mrs. Clegg shook her head. “Just, perhaps, but I’ve seen what it does to a woman to be wedded to an awful man. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Even her.”
“But you’re free now,” Elizabeth said. “Of your father and your husband, and you know better, should you ever consider marriage again. I wish you well, Mrs. Clegg.”
“And I you, Miss Bennet. You’ve been generous to me despite my having wronged you.
I’ve been here for weeks trying to get the nerve to apologize to you.
And that was after being so afraid of being recognized that it took me a week to go into the church to read the registry to see how your sister spelled her last name.
I was so ashamed of my actions that I couldn’t bring myself to approach you. ”
Elizabeth offered further sympathy, and Darcy marveled at how she could feel such kind sentiment.
They made their farewells then, leaving Mrs. Clegg.
As he offered his hand to assist Elizabeth into his carriage, uncharitably, Darcy hoped they would never have cause to see Mr. Collins' sister again.
Darcy suspected, sympathetic or not, Elizabeth felt the same.
"It's sad she only had one good person in her life," she said as she accepted his assistance.
Darcy handed her in, then joined her to find, quite appropriately, she'd taken the backward facing seat.
Not in the mood for strict propriety, he held out his hand once more and Elizabeth took it, letting him pull her across to sit by his side.
“It is sad, and it makes me appreciate even more how fortunate we both are that we have many good people in ours.” He raised her fingers to his lips, offering a reassuring kiss.
“But I am the most fortunate in having you in mine.”
"As am I, in having you."
She turned and tugged back the curtain, watching the farmhouse dwindle behind them, then disappear as the carriage rounded a bend.
When she turned back to Darcy, her serene smile graced a face free of strain.
"I'm happy that is behind us now." She gazed up at him, magnificent eyes bright with the adoration he so yearned to see there.
"Now, there will only be looking forward, with joy, to my life with you. "