Chapter 1.9 #4
Some of her dreams pained her, some made her wake up crying, and some made her ashamed of her lack of fortitude and her wantonness.
Mr Darcy, of course, was the focus: his deep, tender voice, the look in his eyes—either tender and light or darkened by a feeling Elizabeth could not name but only guess—his fingers entwined with hers, his soft lips touching her hand or her forehead.
To her utter distress, there were times when she dreamed more than that.
There were nights when, in her restless sleep, she had imagined his kiss, his caress, his whispers covering her with passion and tenderness and leaving her breathless and crying for more; and each of those times in her dreams, she desired with all her heart to answer him with the same passion, yet each time she could not.
Instead, she felt unable to move, to speak, or to reveal to him her true feelings and desires; and each time he eventually vanished into the darkness, and she awoke with a wildly racing heart and a body soaked in clammy perspiration.
No, she did not need sleep; it was her worst enemy, leaving her mind and soul more exhausted than before she retired.
After a week of searching and acquiring no other news than that the fugitives had yet to been found, a letter came from Mr Gardiner that Mr Bennet would return home.
Elizabeth knew any hope was lost, and later that night in their room, she and Jane both cried for Lydia—and for other causes neither of them dared share with the other.
However, to their utter surprise a few days later, another letter from Mr Gardiner arrived, stating that Lydia and Wickham had been found; a week later, they were married. A glimmer of hope rose in Jane’s spirit; as for Mrs Bennet, she was in raptures.
Not possessing Jane’s genuine heart, Elizabeth was not so easily persuaded by the unexpectedly happy conclusion.
She wondered continually what had happened; by what method and with what expense did Mr Gardiner convince Wickham to marry Lydia?
She dared to talk only with her father about that delicate matter and was shocked when Mr Bennet confessed he suspected a sum of 10,000 pounds.
Surely, that was more than her uncle could afford and, undoubtedly, more than Mr Bennet would ever be able to repay.
If only Lydia had a chance at happiness or at least of having a comfortable life! Yet, the hope was small; Elizabeth was convinced of that a few days later.
Noisy and thoughtless as ever, the newly married Wickhams arrived at Longbourn before departing for the North where Mr Wickham was expected very soon to take a new commission.
Mrs Bennet and perchance Kitty were the only ones pleased with their visit. Mr Bennet’s reception was cold; Elizabeth and Jane, though pleased to see their sister well and unharmed, could not hide their disapproval of Lydia’s untamed, unabashed, and fearless behaviour.
Wickham was no less distressing than his bride; his manners were as pleasing as before, and his smile was charming as he claimed their relationship. Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was appalled.
During dinner, Wickham, who happened to sit near Elizabeth, began inquiring after his acquaintance in the neighbourhood with good-humoured ease, which she felt unable to equal in reply.
After dinner while they were all gathered in the drawing room, her new brother-in-law approached Elizabeth, who tried to retire to a corner as far from the others as possible.
“I am afraid I interrupt your solitude, my dear sister,” said he.
“You certainly do,” she replied, forcing a smile to conceal her displeasure, “but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.”
“I should be sorry indeed if it were. We were always good friends, and now we are better.”
“True; now we are family. Things have changed unexpectedly and very quickly indeed.”
“Things have changed,” he repeated, looking at her with interest. “I found from our uncle and aunt that you have actually seen Pemberley.”
“Yes, I have had that pleasure.”
“I confess I was surprised to hear that you and Mr and Mrs Gardiner grew quite close to Darcy. I know how much you have always disliked him.”
“Mr Wickham, if I remember correctly, I mentioned to you when we last met that my opinion of Mr Darcy had changed completely after I had come to know him better, and being more in his company in the last weeks only helped me to understand why so many people admire and appreciate his character. As for Mr Gardiner, I cannot speak for him, but I dare say he seemed to value his acquaintance with Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam a great deal.”
Elizabeth hoped she had silenced him, but he soon afterwards continued.
“Yes, I remember our conversation just before we left Meryton. However, it appeared that Darcy had improved even more on closer acquaintance, had he not?”
Elizabeth’s patience reached the edge of her tolerance.
“Sir, may I dare ask how Mr Darcy’s character came into your conversation with my uncle?
I should think you had more urgent business to discuss,” Her raised eyebrow clearly expressed her opinion about that “urgent business.” But he remained as calm as before.
“Oh, but I had the opportunity actually to witness the relationship between Darcy and Mr Gardiner. Did you not know that we met at your uncle’s home a few times?”
Elizabeth’s heart nearly stopped; of what was the man talking?
“Mr Darcy? Mr Darcy was in Town—in my uncle’s home?” She realised her surprise and interest betrayed her, but she could not contain herself, and indeed her brother-in-law did not miss her reaction.
“Yes, he was, and he seemed quite familiar with the surroundings, so I assumed it was not his first visit there. And he was not alone but in the company of Lady Cassandra. You did meet Lady Cassandra, did you not?”
Elizabeth’s head was spinning with countless questions, fears and hopes, and several moments passed before she could breathe properly again.
The notion that he had been in London and met Wickham was impossible to believe and even more so to understand.
What was he doing there—and with Lady Cassandra?
It could not be a simple coincidence, yet it was also unbelievable that either Mr Darcy or her ladyship would have willingly met Lydia or Wickham.
But if it were true, that meant he knew what happened to Lydia; he knew and, even more so, agreed to meet with Wickham—more than once.
No, that cannot be…I surely misunderstood.
How was it possible? Had Lady Cassandra betrayed her confidence?
“Dear sister, I hope I have not upset you with this news,” he said, a pleased grin on his face.