Chapter 10
Ten
Elizabeth heard of the rumours shortly before Fitzwilliam and Mr Bingley were expected to visit. Her mother rushed into the parlour, after visiting with her sister in Meryton, and she gasped, “We are all, all ruined.”
“What has happened, Mama?” Jane asked with her most soothing manner.
“People are talking about Lizzy!”
“Oh!” Jane’s eyes widened, and her face paled.
“What has been said?” Elizabeth asked.
“That you are wild,” her mother shrieked, her hands flapping as if attempting to demonstrate the level of wildness.
She gulped and cried out, “That you have been in a secret and—” Elizabeth watched with some alarm as her mother seemed incapable of forcing words out of her mouth—“and intimate relationship with Mr Darcy from age fifteen!” Mrs Bennet made her hands into fists and shook them in front of her, panting, “And, and that you were flirting with another, uh, another man, also a lover, from the militia. And then you turned one man against the other, wishing for them to fight over you, and that is why Mr Darcy had that soldier arrested.”
“Where on earth did Aunt Philips hear all these untrue stories?” Elizabeth asked.
“She says that everyone in Meryton is whispering these tales.”
At that moment, Mrs Hill announced the gentlemen.
Elizabeth gladly turned from her almost hysterical mother to her intended. “There are some awful tales about me afoot, apparently, and they have upset my mother most dreadfully. I am not certain what may be done.”
Of course, Fitzwilliam looked thunderous as she quietly told him everything her mother had just loudly wailed for the entire household to hear.
“I imagine that Miss Bingley must be behind these sudden rumours,” he said.
Tapping his lips with one finger, he mused, “She might have sent her abigail out to the shops to spread lies and then to take the post to rejoin her in London.” Then he explained about Mr and Miss Bingley’s experiences the night before and that morning, and the sisters’ sudden departure.
“I want you to know,” he emphasised, “that Bingley acted quite strongly, quite decisively, yet fairly, in regards to his sister and that, in my opinion, it was the best thing he could have done under the circumstances.”
“But if Miss Bingley has started rumours in retribution, is there something that can be done about that?”
“What we need is a council of war. Please ask your father if we can use his study. Of course I hope he will wish to participate.”
A quarter hour later, Elizabeth, her father, Mr Bingley, and Fitzwilliam sat together in the study, and Elizabeth once again clearly stated the charges being passed around the town.
Darcy and Elizabeth, together, briefly outlined the truth about the arrest of Mr Wickham, and then Darcy addressed the charge that he and Elizabeth had been in a relationship since she was fifteen.
He simply laid out the truth of what had occurred when they met in Ramsgate, in 1806, mentioned the correspondence between his sister and two Bennet ladies, and then said, “Although I had heard a little bit about Elizabeth’s life, with Georgiana sharing her letters with me, I never wrote to her nor received messages from her, and I only saw her again, for the first time in five years, at the Meryton assembly. ”
“So,” Mr Bennet said, “the whole story is the most scurrilous untruth.”
“It is,” Elizabeth said with quiet dignity.
“But I am not sure how to let people know of its falsehood. And I am even less convinced that people will care. Surely anyone who knows me and our family would not believe either story, but would they still happily spread it, laugh at it, instead of refuting it?”
Mr Bingley looked miserable. “I did the best I could. I tried so hard to protect people from my sister. I truly cannot believe that, after all my efforts, things have turned so awful, and it is Caroline’s fault, and therefore it is mine.”
Fitzwilliam said sternly, “Bingley, it is your sister’s fault, almost certainly, but not your own.”
He glanced at Elizabeth’s father and said, “What you do not yet know, sir, is that there is evidence that Bingley’s sister deliberately ensured that he get drunk, took advantage of his drunken state to get him to talk about things he would not normally speak of, and then was angry, this morning, when Bingley and I questioned her about her actions and goals.
Bingley sent her back to London with the Hursts, saying that he can no longer trust her. ”
“So now there will be rumours in London about my Lizzy?”
Elizabeth’s stomach clenched, but Fitzwilliam grasped her hand and said, “I have sent for one of my most trustworthy footmen in an attempt to ensure that does not happen by way of Miss Bingley or her maid. As far as Meryton folk visiting or writing to friends in Town, I believe that the best thing we can do is go calling on the people of the neighbourhood, inviting people to our wedding. We would go with your mother, Miss Elizabeth; what do you think of that plan?”
She felt a thrill of relief as a strategy popped into her mind. “What if we not only invite people to our wedding and wedding breakfast, but we also personally thank them for being a part of our sweet reacquaintance story?”
She sketched the narrative—a true account, but with a grateful twist acknowledging the entire neighbourhood—that they could paint for people as their invitation welcomed them to celebrate their wedding.
“That sounds brilliant,” Fitzwilliam said. “I suppose we should ask your mother her opinion, as well?”
“Papa, what do you think?”
“I think you have a fine idea to squash the rumour about your relationship at age fifteen. As to the gossip about you and Mr Wickham, I wonder if I spoke with Colonel Forster and Sir William, if they could put it about that the rumour concerning your role in the miscreant’s arrest is thoroughly ridiculous.
And if it turns out that Wickham is guilty of two murders, that will also be more interesting gossip, I assume, than the absurdity you just related. ”
The day’s activities were very much set.
Elizabeth’s papa did not enjoy leaving the house—or even his study—but he rode out to Sir William, determined to begin the process of tamping down interest in spreading the untruths.
He planned to visit the colonel in charge of the militia next.
Fitzwilliam wrote an express to his aunt, the Countess of Matlock, warning her of possible—and wholly untrue—rumours, without naming the source, and when his footman arrived at Longbourn, he gave him instructions to ride to London and meet up with Miss Bingley, threatening to shred her reputation by way of the countess if she dared to start or further rumours there.
Bingley sent an express to Hurst and another to his attorney, taking steps to ensure that he separated from Caroline as much as was legally possible.
While the men did all that, Elizabeth conferred with her mother.
The woman had arrived home less than an hour ago, a nervous wreck who called for Hill to bring her salts even before telling everyone about the gossip.
However, after Elizabeth spoke with her, Mrs Bennet straightened her spine and became a tactician about who to speak with first, second, and third.
She changed into her most flattering morning gown, and insisted that Elizabeth do the same, and once Fitzwilliam had accomplished his own planned strategy, the three set out in Fitzwilliam’s carriage.
Their first call was to Lucas Lodge, which Mr Bennet had just quit.
Lady Lucas was considered Meryton’s queen of gossip, but she had a soft spot for the Bennets, so Mrs Bennet decided she would be the first to hear what they had to say.
The Bennet matriarch issued the invitation to the wedding and wedding breakfast, and Elizabeth said, “Our family is so excited to invite the neighbourhood because it was amongst all of you that Mr Darcy and I were reunited for the first time since I had become a friendly acquaintance and correspondent with Miss Darcy five years earlier. The Meryton assembly was the locale of our happy meeting, and our regard for one another and our decision to marry has flowed directly from that meeting. We feel we are the luckiest people in the world to be so happy, and that is why we simply must ask all who were there at the beginning to join us at the church.”
Although Elizabeth had assumed a kindly reception, she was surprised that Lady Lucas seemed to be focused on Fitzwilliam even more than on herself, and she seemed to be melting in smiles.
Without turning her head, Elizabeth attempted to see what on earth Fitzwilliam could be doing to cause that expression, and she saw that he seemed to be looking only at her, and she could see that his smile was tender.
She supposed that Lady Lucas had not before had the opportunity to observe his affection.
Lady Lucas seemed genuinely thrilled with the entirety of the visit, and as they rode to the Longs’ home, Elizabeth told her intended, “Whatever it was you were doing during that last visit, please do it on all the visits.”
“I was just watching your charm work its magic!” he said. “I do not believe I was doing anything at all helpful.”
“You are incorrect, dearest. Lady Lucas watched you more than me, and she seemed very pleased with what she saw. So, at each visit, just look at me as if you loved me.”
She grinned at him, and he chuckled. “Oh, dear, it seems as if I will have a very onerous task before me,” he teased.
Elizabeth was startled when Mama said, “You two almost always look at one another as if nobody else is in the room. If one wished to be affronted, one could manage to be so, but if one wished to find it sweet…well, I can confirm that there is quite a lot of tenderness on display.”
It took all day, but the three managed to visit all the principal homes in and around Meryton, inviting people to their nuptials and thanking them for being there “at the beginning.”
“I am certain we did a world of good, Lizzy,” Mrs Bennet said.
“I feel we did, as well,” Fitzwilliam said, “but I will send Jameson out and about tomorrow morning to get a feel for the gossip that may or may not be spreading. In the meantime, Elizabeth, try not to worry.” He kissed her hand before he joined Mr Bingley as they left to go to Netherfield.
Fitzwilliam reported the next day that the neighbourhood would apparently rather celebrate their wedding than whisper unkind things about them.
The tide seemed to have turned, according to Jameson, and that morning’s most-often-repeated whisper about either Elizabeth, or Fitzwilliam, or both was that they obviously had a love match.
The rumour going about Meryton regarding the recent arrest of a soldier in the militia is that he was a thoroughgoing blackguard who had killed two men in order to escape prison and pose as a soldier. Nobody brought up Elizabeth in these tales.
Could it be so easy? Fitzwilliam promised to pay someone to watch for a renewal of rumours, so that they could once again eliminate them. “Do not worry about it yourself, my love,” he urged.
Elizabeth found herself happy to be persuaded.