CHAPTER 28 Trip Home
Elizabeth did not sleep as poorly that night as she expected to.
Perhaps it was because she had slept so poorly over the past two nights - the first night because she thought she’d lost him, and the second night because she’d entered into a courtship with him.
She awoke more than an hour before dawn and saw to some last minute packing before going to her mother and Jane’s room to awaken them.
Surprisingly, they were already awake and dressed when she got there.
“Are you well, Mamma? How did you sleep?”
“I do not know that I slept much, Lizzy,” said Fanny Bennet dully, staring out the dark window. “In fact, I do not think I slept at all, but…whatever the case may be, I shall not hinder anyone with undue hysterics. It is the least I could do.”
Elizabeth and Jane shared a look, both puzzled by their mother’s behaviour. And then Jane said, “You are very good, Mamma.”
Mrs. Bennet merely shook her head then began to put a few more items into her trunk.
Not long after that, they went downstairs and looked out to see that the Darcy and Bingley carriages were already there.
They shared a light breakfast with the gentlemen in Charlotte’s small dining parlour, then were out at the front gate in half an hour.
Elizabeth said her farewells to her closest friend then was handed into the carriage by Darcy. They left while it was still dark.
Elizabeth hardly had any chance to speak with her betrothed, as everything happened so quickly. But he did look sympathetically at her from time to time and it was enough to bolster her spirits.
They headed for London, the three women traveling in Darcy’s carriage, and the servants travelling in Bingley’s. The gentlemen elected to ride, and it gave Elizabeth some solace to see her betrothed occasionally trotting by on his horse and nodding towards her.
Her mother was strangely quiet during the ride and Elizabeth began to worry that there was more bothering Mrs. Bennet than the problem at hand.
“Mamma?”
“Yes, Lizzy?”
“Is there anything weighing on your mind? You have been very quiet…”
But Mrs. Bennet still said nothing, till Jane finally pleaded, “Please, Mamma. Tell us what is wrong. For we would like to help you in any way we can.”
Mrs. Bennet heaved a great sigh then said, “This is all my fault, Jane. Lydia’s ruin, and your father’s apoplexy…it is all my fault.”
“No, Mamma, you mustn’t think that way - ”
“But I can,” said Mrs. Bennet, now becoming tearful, “because it is. Only think about it, Jane. Lydia would never have eloped with Wickham if I had ingrained any kind of sense into her. But all I ever taught her was how to catch a man - in any way she could. I never impressed upon her that some men could be evil and use her ill. She trusted that man because of me! And now your father might die because of me!”
She began to sob and Jane, who had been sitting beside her, could only put her arm around her mother’s shoulder and attempt to soothe her.
Elizabeth and Jane took turns trying to convince their mother that it was not her fault, but neither were successful.
For Mrs. Bennet, who now took all the blame for the recent catastrophe upon herself, would not be swayed from the notion.
“Is your mother well?” Darcy asked Elizabeth at their last stop, ten miles outside of London.
“She will be…eventually,” Elizabeth answered. “Unfortunately, she blames herself for everything, believing that Lydia’s unfortunate decision - and thus my father’s sudden attack - was because she failed to give Lydia better guidance.
There was a thoughtful pause before Darcy asked, “Do you think I might speak to her for a moment?”
“Of course but…you have already done so much…”
“I have done nothing, Elizabeth, but transport you in my coach.”
Elizabeth chuckled, thinking that Darcy had once again not given himself enough credit.
And she realised that it was perhaps the reason why he never bothered to defend himself against Wickham’s accusations.
He was not a man who impressed people with his speech, but rather a man who behaved with honour, regardless of what people thought of him.
A man who was perhaps afraid of calling attention to himself - both to his good deeds and worthy traits.
And now, understanding him more, Elizabeth loved him more.
“You are too good,” she murmured, touching him lightly on the sleeve.
But he only shook his head with a thoughtful mien, kissed her hand, then gestured for her to proceed inside.
Once in the private parlour that he had arranged for them, Darcy took Mrs. Bennet aside while Bingley saw to obtaining fresh horses.
“Are you well, Mrs. Bennet?” he asked, as she looked vacantly out the window and took a sip of her tea.
“Not really, Mr. Darcy,” she responded softly, “for if my husband dies, then it will be I who killed him.”
“Mamma!” said Jane, having heard the exchange from across the room.
But Darcy only gestured to her with a shake of the head, then sat down beside her.
“Mrs. Bennet, pray, stop blaming yourself. For it is I who am at fault. You see, I knew what Wickham was. I grew up with him and was aware of all his baser qualities. And I should have said something about it sooner but I failed to do so. Yet, if I had, then Miss Lydia would never have run away with him. I was going to speak to your husband about it when we reached Hertfordshire, but alas, it is too late. So now you may blame me for this state of affairs. Not yourself.”
It was then that Elizabeth felt that she had to intervene.
“You must not say that, Mr. Darcy. For if you had spoken, it might have harmed…your own family. This is no one’s fault but Wickham’s.” She looked pointedly at Darcy, and then her mother and repeated, “The fault lies solely with Mr. Wickham.”
No one spoke for a while, though Mrs. Bennet's expression began to change. She was more thoughtful now than sad.
“So Mr. Wickham is evil,” she suddenly murmured, as if reaching some sort of epiphany. “The very worst of men.”
“I suppose you could say that,” agreed Darcy. “Or you could also call him selfish. Amoral. Lazy. Take your pick. I believe that all those words could be used to describe him.”
Mrs. Bennet finally smiled a little, and Elizabeth felt a sense of relief wash over her.
“You are right, Lizzy,” she said. “It isn’t anyone’s fault but Wickham’s.” She turned to Darcy and added, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
Again he said nothing but only acknowledged Mrs. Bennet’s thanks with a small nod.
It was then that Bingley walked into the room and said, “I have settled about the horses and we may leave at any time.”
Elizabeth and Jane sat on either side of their mother at the long table, while Darcy and Bingley sat across from them. They quietly ate the stew and fresh bread put out before them, then began to discuss their plans for the coming evening.
“I would like to offer to host the three of you in my home,” said Darcy, addressing Elizabeth.
“But why, Mr. Darcy? We always stay at our aunt and uncle’s house when we go to London.”
“Yes, I understand but…your mother has mentioned that your uncle has four children. And though he and your aunt are probably expecting you, perhaps it would be better for your mother to stay where it is more…quiet. Also, I would like for you to meet my sister.”
Elizabeth was once again taken by Darcy’s thoughtfulness.
He had done so many things that day already - taking the blame for Lydia’s elopement; arranging for all the stops between Kent and London; and even considering Mrs. Bennet’s comfort for the upcoming night.
She was again ashamed that her family had put him through so much trouble.
And she realised that, if she ever thought to test his love for her, today’s events would have proven it many times over.
“I shall, of course, send a message to your uncle telling him of our plans. And perhaps he might call on you before you depart for Hertfordshire. And then Richard, who will arrive there tomorrow, may also meet him.”
“I see you have thought of everything,” she murmured.
He looked worriedly at her and responded, “These are only suggestions, however, and if there is anything you wish to change, please do not hesitate to speak.”
She smiled and took a step towards him, wishing they had been alone.
For at least she could have kissed his cheek, or even embraced him.
But she was forced to settle with, “No, Mr. Darcy. There is nothing I wish to change. And I am relieved and appreciative that you are here and have arranged for everything. I just wish to thank you again for all your efforts. And I would most certainly wish to meet your sister.”
He smiled happily. “She wishes to meet you as well - all of you.”
Elizabeth then thought of her own sister and asked, “But what shall be done about Lydia?”
“I shall find your sister and…either try to take her away from Wickham, or barring that, attempt to make him marry her.”
“You do not think he will marry her on his own?” asked Jane.
“No, I do not,” said Darcy soberly. “Unfortunately, Wickham has always been driven by his need for money and, without that inducement…” Darcy shrugged, the implication being that since Lydia had no money, Wickham would not marry her.
He turned to Elizabeth, “But he can be worked on, and I shall endeavour to make it so that your sister has the best possible chance for a happy life.”
Elizabeth was once again struck by how much more she had to gain from their union than he did. But she was certain that he did not wish to hear such things and so only said, “I thank you.”
He took her hand and squeezed it, again ignoring her expressions of gratitude. “So, shall you stay at Darcy House for the night?”
“Yes. Thank you.”