Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
As Elizabeth returned to local society, she made a discreet effort to keep some distance between herself and Mr Wickham.
She did not know whom she despised more: Wickham for all the damage he had done, or herself for believing him.
Knowing the truth about him, a part of her wanted to ring a peal over him, tell him that she knew what a liar he was…
but that did not seem altogether safe. She certainly could not act as she was used to do around him, though in a lively society of four-and-twenty families all having dinners and parties, avoiding him entirely was impossible.
Her mother and two youngest sisters, like many of the ladies nearby, still doted on him.
She succeeded admirably even when her mother invited the officers to dine the evening before they departed for Brighton.
While she was forced to exchange a few words with him here and there, she made a great show of busily helping her mother and Mrs Hill.
Kitty, Lydia, and some other young ladies drew his attention away.
At the end of the dinner, she politely bid goodbye to Mr Wickham for what she hoped would be the last time.
Elizabeth spent the days in the bright May sunshine sitting in the garden or traversing her favourite paths, welcoming the sounds, smells, and sights of high spring.
She appreciated the familiar beauty of her home in the springtime, but it did not ease her mind.
It only reminded her of her walks in Kent, and Mr Darcy’s silent presence.
He had been in love with her the entire time. She still could not get over the shock.
After taking a turn around the garden, she entered the house through the kitchen door and encountered Mrs Hill, their housekeeper, setting paper-wrapped bundles into a basket on the wide kitchen table.
“Whom is that for?” she asked the older woman.
“It is for Mrs Neeson. Mr Goulding is very poorly, and I am sending her some herbs and tinctures from our stillroom. She is worried about how little he is eating. I would take it myself, but Ruthie and I need to hang the clean bedding outside while the weather is fine.”
“I will take it, Mrs Hill. I have not visited Mr Goulding since my return.”
Taking up the basket, Elizabeth then went and put her head inside the parlour, where her sisters and mother worked at their various tasks. “I am going to Haye-Park. Would any of you care to join me?”
Her mother looked up from her mending. “Mary and I were just there on Monday. Jane has accompanied Kitty to see Maria. Lydia, you may walk with Lizzy.”
Lydia huffed and rolled her eyes. “I will not. Mama, I refuse even to look at him! His face makes me want to retch!”
Elizabeth gasped and opened her mouth to scold her youngest sister but shut it just as abruptly, knowing that it did no good to engage her in an argument.
Lydia would just dig in, her voice growing louder and her language more vulgar.
She seemed to think that time spent for the benefit of anyone other than herself was time wasted.
Elizabeth was gratified when her mother objected to Lydia’s words.
“If that is how you are going to behave, I will not allow you to go anyway. Mr Goulding is a good man who has had many misfortunes in his life. I will not have you disrespecting him. And you will not be going to Meryton with me this afternoon. You may go to your room and think about your rude behaviour.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I will go alone, Mama, just to give these to Mrs Neeson.”
Elizabeth was used to walking alone, especially in the early hours of the morning.
Perhaps it was not quite proper in the larger towns or cities, but no one among their neighbourhood seemed to think it unusual.
She would deliver Mrs Hill’s herbs to Mrs Neeson.
If Mr Goulding was well enough to see her, they would have someone else sit in the room while they visited.
This walk was no more soothing than any of the others.
Unbidden images appeared in her mind’s eye—the earnest, open entreaty in Mr Darcy’s eyes, then the hurt as she had angrily laid her charges at his feet, instantly replaced by his own angry disdain.
Mr Darcy had an expressive face on those rare occasions when the mask slipped.
How ardently I admire and love you… By the time she arrived at Haye-Park, Elizabeth was once again mired in regret and self-recrimination. How had she been so wrong?
She knocked at the kitchen door, which was promptly opened by one of the kitchen maids, who bobbed a curtsey.
“Good morning, Annie. I have brought some things from our stillroom. How is Mr Goulding today?”
Annie wrung her hands. “He’s very sickly, Miss Lizzy. Very bad. I’ll take you to Mrs Neeson.”
Elizabeth followed the little maid through the scullery and kitchen, to a tiny office next to the pantry.
“Miss Lizzy’s here to see you, ma’am,” Annie informed the housekeeper, then hurried back to her duties.
“Miss Bennet, how nice to see you. Oh my, you’ve brought us more from your stillroom! Mrs Bennet and Miss Mary brought us another basket only three days ago.”
“We are glad to share them with our friends.” Elizabeth paused. “Mrs Neeson, how is Mr Goulding today? Might I be able to give him my regards and those of my family?”
The older woman’s hands clasped tightly together. Elizabeth wondered if she did so to stop them from wringing as Annie’s had. “He grows weaker by the day, miss. His appetite is diminishing. He does eat a little, but with no enjoyment of it. I believe he does it to appease us.”
Mrs Neeson considered. “Perhaps a little company might do him some good. I will see if he is up to it.”
Within minutes the housekeeper had returned, and Elizabeth was following her to her master’s library.
They entered the door from the hall, where the older lady stopped and whispered, “I must warn you, he is much altered. Reese has helped the master to a chair, though I don’t know how long he will be able to sit comfortably.
I would ask you to please watch him for signs of discomfort or exhaustion.
I believe he has been lonely and that he may overexert himself, so glad is he to have a visitor. ”
For the first time, Elizabeth felt some trepidation.
She had not seen Mr Goulding since before she travelled to Hunsford over Easter.
He had been noticeably weak and thin at that time, but he had taken some tea with her, Kitty, their mother, and Lady Lucas.
She remembered that he had appeared to be cheerful, though had only eaten half of a biscuit.
He had seemed somewhat worn out when they left.
The two women entered the library. Upon seeing her godfather, Elizabeth stifled a gasp.
Mr Goulding was painfully thin. His skin had taken on a waxy yellowish aspect.
His movements were slow and halting. Only his eyes, alert, smiling and intelligent, showed the man who had been their friend and neighbour for her entire life.
Mr Goulding was sitting in a large armchair, seemingly propped up with layers of pillows on either side. “Miss Lizzy,” he said as he held out a slightly shaking hand, beckoning her forwards.
Elizabeth seated herself in the chair he had indicated, while Mrs Neeson went to get refreshments. Mr Reese, Mr Goulding’s long-time valet, stood just behind his master’s chair, ready to assist. She was not usually tongue-tied, but her surprise at his condition rendered her silent.
Mr Goulding broke the silence. “You must tell me about your visit to Kent. How were your travels? You stayed with the Gardiners on your way? How are they?”
Elizabeth came back to herself and answered, “They are very well. My uncle’s business interests have kept him travelling of late.
This summer he will be spending quite some time in Glasgow.
My aunt and the children will miss him, but she capably runs a very busy household with her children and her charitable concerns. ”
“Yes, his businesses are large and diverse, are they not? It does not surprise me at all. Mr Gardiner is younger than me by several years, but I have followed his progress since he began his career. We correspond often, especially since he has taken over my investments. It has been a while since I have seen his family. Most recently of course at Longbourn for the festive season.”
“Yes, I remember that. They are my favourite relatives, and Jane was with them all winter.” Elizabeth wondered if Mr Goulding remembered.
“Your mother has been quite eloquent on the subject. Good for Jane. I hope she has recovered from her heartbreak.” Mr Goulding was smiling sympathetically.
Elizabeth’s return smile was rueful and more than a touch embarrassed.
“Jane assures me that she is over her disappointment and if she met Mr Bingley again that she would consider him an indifferent acquaintance and nothing more. I have my reservations as to whether that is true at present but hope it will be soon for her sake. Poor Mama speaks of Mr Bingley altogether too often and is still fretting over my refusal of Mr Collins’s offer of marriage. ”
“It is a very good thing that you did decline. You would have strangled him before a month was out. I was very glad when your father supported you in that. I did meet the man, you know, when the former Miss Lucas brought him to introduce me, and I concur with your decision. How is Mrs Collins? Is she happy in her new home?”
Elizabeth smirked. “Although she receives a good deal of unsolicited advice from her husband’s patroness, Charlotte is as she always was.
She enjoys having her own home and manages her husband well.
She has very cleverly arranged the rooms so that she sees as little of him as is possible.
Between Lady Catherine and Charlotte, Mr Collins’s life is completely and minutely directed by women. He will never realise that, of course.”
Annie arrived with their tea and then seated herself at the other end of the room with Reese, out of earshot but close enough to be considered chaperons.
The refreshments included cinnamon cakes, which Elizabeth remembered were Mr Goulding’s favourite.
Mrs Neeson was apparently still trying to tempt him, and she would be pleased that he accepted an entire slice on his plate.
They spoke of the progress of the crops in the fields, and of the goings-on in local society.
“Mr Jones’s younger son Arthur has completed his training as an apothecary but has gone to Bath to look for work. There does not seem to be enough apothecary business at present to support Mr Jones, two sons, and their families here. Though he hopes to return in future,” added Elizabeth.
Mr Goulding shook his head. “Another loss for our community.” While he sipped his tea and nibbled at a cake, he reminisced about other persons who had departed over the years.
As she listened, Elizabeth’s eyes wandered over the room where they had visited for nearly her entire memory: the paintings, the books, the deep leather chairs that were still too large for her, even now that she was grown.
The table where Mr Goulding and her father had played hundreds, perhaps thousands, of games of cribbage, chess, or backgammon.
The game board no longer occupied the table; instead, there were several books in a neat stack.
The small book on top caught her eye. The cover was unusual, a fine-grained leather dyed blue with gold-stamped lettering. She had seen it before somewhere, but not here in Mr Goulding’s sitting room. As they conversed, her eyes kept moving to the book and a small frown crossed her face.
After a time, Mr Goulding said, “You seem distracted, my dear. What has you so unsettled? You are not your usual merry self. In fact, I noticed a change when you entered the room.”
Elizabeth looked down at her hands before meeting his gaze. “I have had a shock, or perhaps two shocks. One led to the other.”
Mr Goulding raised an eyebrow. “You must explain. Should I be concerned? Shall I need to call someone out?”
Elizabeth laughed weakly. “No, that will not be necessary. I…I had another proposal of marriage. From Mr Darcy.”
“From Mr Darcy!”
Elizabeth attempted a jest. “I am sure you remember me complaining about him. Are you surprised that he would stoop so low?”
“Not at all. Once I became better acquainted with him, I thought he could be a great friend to you. Or even perhaps a match.”