Chapter Twenty-Nine
Just over a fortnight after the Darcys’ return from Ramsgate, Elizabeth presided over her drawing room on her first afternoon at home to callers.
As one could imagine, she found herself quite popular.
Her new friends from the village all paid calls, and there were more than a dozen from the wives, daughters, and mothers of the local gentlemen.
Even Kitty had travelled from Hawthorne Vale to lend Elizabeth her support.
Miss Poole had taken it upon herself to whisper tidbits of gossip about each new guest as they entered the room. That lady had been present for more than an hour, but Elizabeth did not grudge her helpfulness, and indeed, some of the information was quite worth knowing.
“Miss Jenks and Miss Matilda Jenks,” announced the footman as the ladies entered the room and made their curtsies.
“Mrs Darcy, you are glowing,” Miss Matilda complimented as Miss Poole move on and the new arrivals took seats on a settee near where Elizabeth was pouring tea.
“My sister could not be more right. Marriage agrees with you, Mrs Darcy.” Miss Jenks accepted a cup and a plate of sandwiches.
“I might be prejudiced, but I believe that marriage to Mr Darcy would suit nearly anyone,” Elizabeth said with a grin.
“If you were any other wife, I might agree that you were prejudiced, but I cannot deny that you are uncommonly fortunate in your choice of a husband,” Miss Jenks said with a smile.
Elizabeth looked over the room filled with ladies.
Mary, Kitty, Priscilla, and Georgiana were conversing with callers and each other.
It being her first day at home, ladies were lingering in curiosity, for it had been many years since a lady had entertained at Pemberley.
Satisfied that her guests were content, she turned her attention back to the newcomers.
“I wished to thank you again for your assistance in the delivery of the chest of linens to my sister,” she said quietly. “I understand from my husband that the man who made the delivery was one of my brother-in-law’s victims. It was very Christian of him to do any small service for her.”
“Jem Heard was thankfully not as injured by the man as some,” Mrs Jenks informed her.
“Mr Wickham tricked Jem into thinking that he was a very poor card player, then by cheating, swindled him out of his savings. One wishes to be sympathetic to such a plight, but even Jem admits to this day that it was his own fault for betting. It was another fortnight before Mr Wickham was caught cheating in the pub. It was too late for Jem to recover what was lost. But he credits Mr Wickham with teaching him a valuable lesson. He has learned that he cannot afford to lose, and so he has remained out of the pub, and away from the tables and drink. It was not as painful for Jem as it would be for some to do Mrs Wickham a kindness.”
“I see,” Elizabeth said. “Well, it was still very good of him, and very good of both of you to ask him. You have my gratitude.”
“Did your sister find the items useful?” Miss Matilda asked.
“I have not heard from her in reply, nor do I think, has Kitty,” answered Elizabeth.
“I cannot deny that it worries me, but then again, Lydia is more likely to write with bad news than good, so perhaps things are going well for her, which is just what I would hope. I owe her a letter now that I am home. I will have to remember to begin one later.”
“We have said nothing to our friends about the identity of your sister's husband,” Miss Matilda said in a hushed tone. “And Jem Heard is very discreet. He would not wish to cause you any embarrassment.”
“Oh dear, I should never like anyone to keep secrets on my account,” Elizabeth objected.
“I understood when I told you that it is inevitable for word to spread through the village. I would not like anyone to think I have been intentionally deceptive, although it is not your job to spread my affairs either.”
“That would be Miss Poole’s responsibility,” Miss Jenks said with an indulgent smile.
“She reminds me and Mary very much of our Aunt Phillips from back in Meryton.” Elizabeth refilled Miss Matilda’s teacup. “I am already very fond of her.”
“She has been our friend for many years, and she means well.” Miss Jenks nodded in approval of Elizabeth’s admission.
“Perhaps I might mention my sister’s name to her,” Elizabeth said impishly.
“Perhaps in a few weeks, when the local ladies have had an opportunity to create a fair impression of you, I think,” Miss Jenks said. “I should like to see you judged by your own merits first.”
“I rely upon you to advise me. You have known our neighbours long enough to understand their ways,” Elizabeth said in gratitude as Georgiana went to the harp and began to play quietly for the appreciation of their guests.
Her new sister had met two young ladies her age amongst the daughters of their neighbors, and was planning to call upon them with her companion soon.
A few moments later, she left the Misses Jenks in the company of Priscilla as she turned her own attention to her other guests.
Ten minutes later, the footman entered and offered Elizabeth a letter on a silver tray.
Elizabeth opened it and with wide eyes, read the contents.
Calmly, she folded it and put it in her pocket.
Though her guests were eyeing her with interest, particularly Miss Poole, the matter was urgent, so Elizabeth stood and apologised to the other women in the room.
“I do beg everyone’s pardon, but I must speak with my husband. Mary, Priscilla, would you step in?”
Mary and Priscilla were quick to take over Elizabeth’s duties of pouring and serving sandwiches and cakes, though they did not endure the occupation long, for the guests understood that the letter must be a matter of importance, and took their leave, lightly prodded along by the Misses Jenks.
Fifteen minutes later, Mary, Kitty, Priscilla, and Georgiana found Elizabeth weeping in Darcy’s study.
“Lizzy, what is wrong? Is there bad news from Longbourn or Gracechurch Street?” gasped Mary. Elizabeth thrust the letter at her and Mary read it aloud.
Friday, 17 July 1812
Lizzy,
Congratulations on marrying Mr Darcy. A few months ago, I might have laughed at you for marrying such a boring man, but as Papa said, you could not be so clever for nothing. You made a sensible choice, and I cannot imagine you ever having cause to repine.
I hear from no one but you and Mama. How odd it is that you sent me a chest from Kitty’s attic, yet she has not sent me a word since George and I visited Longbourn.
Is she angry with me? Tell her that whatever I did, I am sorry, and that I miss her.
I thank you both for the chest, but we could not afford to keep it.
George said it came at the perfect moment to save us from eviction, for we owed rent, and the linens did not fetch much, but the cloak was well made.
It paid for another quarter in our rooms, and George allowed me to purchase a hot pot, so we ate well that day.
I never tell Kitty this in my letters, and you must promise me not to tell her, but it is awful to be Mrs Wickham.
George’s wages barely pay for our rooms, which are always cold, and there is never any money for dinner or coal.
I cannot accompany George to any invitations, for we had to sell all of my gowns, and I only have my blue muslin and my fawn walking dress now.
George says my manners are an embarrassment, and I will only mortify him anyway.
His colonel’s wife and a few other officer’s wives have called, but I am not allowed to answer the door on account of what a terrible housekeeper I am.
I did not know that the interest from the dowry I was given by Mr Bingley would not be enough to live on, or that I would get nothing from Papa.
I wish someone had explained to me about money, for now I have none and I do not know how to earn any.
Lizzy, I will not ask you for money just because you are rich now.
I only ask that you not tell Kitty that I am so poor, and I wish to ask if you might persuade Mr Darcy to help George find a better situation.
George says that Mr Darcy denied him a living that was meant for him, and that is why we live as we do now.
George says that Mr Darcy is still angry at him because Old Mr Darcy liked him better.
You were always so good at helping everyone at home mend their quarrels.
Would you speak to Mr Darcy? Perhaps if you spoke to your husband and I spoke to mine, perhaps Mr Darcy might have another living?
I laughed when I heard Mary married Mr Collins, but now I think I should like being married to a clergyman much better than this.
Lizzy, I do not want to tell anyone this, but last night, George came home and was angry at me for not bleeding.
I never thought about it when my courses did not come, and he laughed at me for my ignorance, but Mama never told me anything.
He says I will probably have a baby, and then we will really starve.
His anger was terrible, but I will not say what he did.
Only that I wish I had married Captain Denny, or even Mr Collins.
Lizzy, can you not ask Mr Darcy to help? I am not asking him to give George money, I understand my husband well enough now that I know how imprudent that would be, but if your husband could think of anything that might help? I am afraid to have a baby alone here without anyone to assist me.
It will be all right if you cannot do anything.
If George learns that I wrote to you, he will be angry.
He was furious when he learned that you married Mr Darcy.
He says that if he knew that Mr Darcy fancied you, that he would have gotten more to marry me.
I am sorry I ran away, Lizzy. You cannot imagine how sorry I am.
Lydia
“I knew something was wrong!” Elizabeth wept.