Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“Mrs Wickham?” Miss Jenks was quite obviously shocked. “I see. Your candour is appreciated, Miss Bennet. That was brave of you.”
“This village is to be my home. There is no use trying to keep secrets. I am certain there will be those that will not like it, but Mrs Wickham is my sister.” Elizabeth was explicit.
“What is Mrs Wickham like?” Miss Matilda asked curiously.
“She is very young,” Elizabeth emphasised. “A few months younger than Miss Darcy, but without her advantages, or older brother to protect her.”
“The poor dear,” Miss Matilda tutted. “That is very young.”
“We cannot hold her entirely blameless, but she was too young to understand her choice,” Mary tutted. “She was tricked by Mr Wickham, who used her affection and lack of worldly knowledge to gain a dowry from our family.”
“In any case, Lydia will live if she waits a few more weeks for her trunk,” Elizabeth said. “When I am wed, I will have the ability to have the chest of linen and anything else I like sent by messenger.”
“I fear that if your sister is a very young girl, who is far from her home and family, and relies upon Mr Wickham for her support, then perhaps she had better receive any assistance we can give, as soon as we can muster it.” Miss Jenks rang the bell.
When Martha entered, she said, “Martha, deliver a message to Jem Heard asking him to call on us later today when he has the time.”
“You are very generous.” Elizabeth was surprised.
“We are to be neighbours, Miss Bennet. It is appropriate to aid one another.” Miss Jenks was firm.
Tuesday 28 April 1812
Dear Kitty,
Please send the chest for Lydia with the messenger.
There is someone from Lambton travelling to Newcastle in two days who is willing to deliver it.
I thank you for allowing me to send it to her, even though I know you have no desire to do so.
I wish you would include a letter for her. Just a few words?
Lizzy
The late afternoon light glowed gently through the narrow window of Elizabeth’s bedchamber at Lambton Parsonage, shining on the polished wood of the small dressing table and the neatly folded shawl across the foot of the bed.
Elizabeth had just set aside her bonnet and was preparing to dress for dinner when she heard the door open softly behind her.
She had no need to turn to know who it was.
She had been expecting this visit for two days.
Jane’s step was light, careful. Her voice, when she spoke, was gentler still. “I pray that I am not disturbing you.”
Elizabeth met her sister’s eyes in the mirror. “Not at all.”
Jane came further into the room, her hands folded before her in the familiar pose of quiet delicacy she favoured. She was always pale lately, but her eyes were alight with an expression Elizabeth had learned to dread months ago.
“I thought we might talk for a while,” she said. “We have not confided in one another in ages, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth pulled her yellow evening gown from her wardrobe. “We have hardly seen one another, and I do not believe our relationship merits those chats anymore.”
Jane smiled faintly. “I suppose I deserve that. I did not submit to my nerves easily as a new bride.”
Elizabeth turned at that and pierced Jane with her gaze. “Indeed.”
“But that does not mean that I do not still care very much about what happens to you.” Jane sat upon the chair by the window. “Lizzy…have you truly considered…everything?”
Elizabeth said nothing, only waited for Jane to continue.
Jane hesitated only long enough to make her concern seem reluctant rather than deliberate. “I cannot help but wonder whether this engagement…whether it may be thought imprudent.”
Elizabeth sat upon the bed and folded her hands calmly in her lap. “In what particular, might I ask, Jane?”
“People talk, you know. They always do.” Jane looked sad. “Three sisters marrying so… brilliantly. Mr Bingley, Captain Denny, and now Mr Darcy. They may begin to think our family is…ambitious.”
Elizabeth smiled and leaned forward as if sharing a great secret with her sister. “They may believe whatever they please.”
“But reputation matters,” Jane said insistently. “You have always said so. And Mr Darcy must feel it too. His family, his friends in society…will they not be uneasy about him marrying down?”
“No more than society was when you married down by accepting a tradesman’s son, Sister.” Elizabeth’s mouth curved, but there was no humour in it. “You mistake Mr Darcy entirely if you suppose he concerns himself with such gossip.”
“There is no call to insult my husband.” Jane’s brow furrowed prettily. “I only wish to spare you pain. You deserve every happiness, Lizzy, but I cannot help fearing that this union may bring…social difficulties.”
“I have no desire to offend Mr Bingley. He is a kind person, and he has my respect. It is your behaviour I object to.” Elizabeth said. Then she considered. “Is that all you fear?”
Jane raised a brow. “What else do you imagine I fear?”
Elizabeth held her gaze. “That I will be invited where you are not. That at a dinner in London, you might enter the dining room behind me.”
Jane’s expression did not change, but something in her eyes did.
Elizabeth continued. “You linger in Lambton. You delay your journey north. You tell Mary you are too unwell to travel farther, yet you attend dinners and walk daily with your husband when the weather permits. You were well enough to move on before I arrived on Sunday.”
Elizabeth went on. “You are waiting for an invitation that will never come.”
Jane rose in indignation. “Lizzy, how can you think so unkindly of me?”
Elizabeth turned fully toward her now. “Because I finally know you now. I understand you perfectly. That is why you had no further use of me once you obtained your proposal. Once I saw you for yourself, you were glad to be rid of my company.”
Jane shook her head in rejection of Elizabeth’s words. “I am merely hopeful that–”
“You sit and you hope that Mr Darcy will relent. That Miss Darcy will forget. That your insult to her at the Netherfield Ball will be smoothed over by time and proximity.” Elizabeth’s voice was steady. “You are mistaken.”
Jane’s lips parted. “I never meant–”
“You meant exactly what you said,” Elizabeth replied.
“You resented the attention she and Mary received. You resented that it was not all yours, for that seems to be all you care about since you met Mr Bingley. That all attention and good fortune should be yours, and yours alone. And no one who witnessed it has forgotten.”
Jane spoke with wounded pride. “I have suffered enough without being judged so harshly by my own sister.”
Elizabeth did not relent. “Hear me, Jane, and hear me well. There will be no invitations to Pemberley or Darcy House for you. Not now. Not after Georgiana marries and moves away. Not ever. And the longer you remain here pretending delicacy in the hopes that Mr Darcy will eventually recognise you to save his friend embarrassment, the more ridiculous you render yourself to those who see the truth.”
“You take pleasure in humiliating me.” Jane was indignant. “I made a mistake that cost my husband his friend, and I am trying to mend that mistake. You are my closest sister. You could help me, if you wanted. Mr Darcy would listen to you.”
“No,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I take no pleasure in humiliating you. But I take no joy either in prolonging a deception. And if I am your closest sister, I shudder to think how you might treat a relation you truly disliked.”
Jane drew herself up. “If you truly loved me, you would not speak so harshly. The Lizzy I knew and loved would forgive me.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flashed. “If you truly loved me, you would not attempt to prevent my marriage with feigned concern and self-serving fears. The Jane I knew and loved would never attempt to manipulate me as you have.”
“You have changed, Lizzy.” Jane adopted an expression of heartbreak.
“I certainly hope so.” Elizabeth shook her head thinking of all the tears she had shed for this sister. “But you changed first.”
Jane crossed the room to the door, then paused with her hand upon the latch.
Elizabeth’s words followed with quiet authority, “You should return to Scarborough, Jane. Or to Netherfield. Or wherever you please. But you will not be invited to my wedding even if you are here in the village, so you must decide if you wish to heap further embarrassment upon your husband.”
Jane did not look back. She left the room as softly as she had entered it.
Elizabeth stood alone in the fading afternoon light, her heart steady, her resolve firmer than it had ever been.