Chapter Sixty-Four
October 1812
M ary’s new clothing was delivered, and not long after, invitations arrived for both Elizabeth and Mary from Lady Cowper to a rout-party at her home the following week. A quick consultation with the Countess was enough to assure Elizabeth that this was a highly coveted invitation, as Lady Cowper was not known to issue invitations merely to fill up her drawing room. She invited individuals who had impressed her for whatever reason.
“I dislike this excessively,” was Mary’s unhappy reaction to the invitation, and it took all Elizabeth’s skill to persuade her sister to accompany her.
Kate had been more than delighted to take instruction from Alice, a “real London lady’s maid,” to borrow her phrase, and the two had become fast friends. Kate and Alice spent three hours dressing Elizabeth and Mary. Elizabeth helped Mary select a gown, and then loaned her jewelry to complement it. “It complements the dress, and that is certain to gain you compliments,” Elizabeth remarked, flippantly. “Is English not an absurd language?”
“No more so than French, or any other language, I expect,” Mary replied. “And on the subject of the English language, I do not fully understand what will happen at a rout party. Is a rout not a – well, a military expression?”
“It is; a rout is a disorderly retreat, but in social terms it means a party that is – hmm, I suppose disordered is still the right term! There will likely be a good deal of conversation, cards, music and, of course, food and drink.” Elizabeth eyed her sister, knowingly. “You will look for a quiet corner in which you might sit with a book, but that will not be possible!”
“Will you stay with me?” Mary’s voice was plaintive, and almost quivered.
“Oh, Mary! Of course I will! You are here to do me a service, to keep me company, and I know I have tortured you with new clothing and new acquaintances, but I would not abandon you in a noisy room full of strangers.”
Thus soothed, Mary suffered herself to be helped into a carriage and driven the few blocks to Park Lane. Elizabeth thought, privately, that Mary looked quite pretty, attired in a blossom-coloured gown of silk with the pearls from Elizabeth’s wedding at her throat.
Lady Cowper’s home was quite elegant, as Elizabeth had expected. Upon being announced by the very solemn butler, some of the people Elizabeth had met at the Countess’ dinner party came to greet her and to meet Mrs. Darcy’s sister. Elizabeth felt immediately reassured that she was not among strangers, and Lady Cowper’s warm greeting was in no way lacking.
The drawing room was full of people, but not so crowded that it could be considered a crush. Elizabeth was grateful for that, as Mary would have been completely overwhelmed. Nonetheless, it was a noisy party, and Elizabeth could see Mary stiffening in reaction, so after the rush of introductions had ended, she took Mary by the arm and walked with her to a sofa near the piano. A young lady was playing a Pleyel piece that Mary recognised, and the music visibly soothed Mary’s troubled soul. When it was done, the young lady turned to Mary and said, “Do you enjoy music?”
“Oh! Very much! And you play beautifully!”
The young lady called out, “Mama? Might someone introduce us?”
A matron who had been introduced to Mary upon her arrival hastened over. “Of course, my dear. Miss Bennet, please allow me to present my daughter, Miss Landon. Emily, this is Miss Bennet, who is Mrs. Darcy’s sister.”
Mary curtsied, and the young lady rose from the piano bench and did the same. “Thank you, Mama! Miss Bennet, might you play for the company?”
Mary was accustomed to being asked to exhibit, as very few young ladies in Meryton had ever bothered to befriend the instrument, and she was able to acquit herself creditably. Then she and Miss Landon played a duet together.
Elizabeth, seeing that Mary was well-occupied, thought it safe now to get herself something to drink, though she would keep an eye on her shy sister and be ready to rescue her should that be required.
A footman came by with a tray containing a variety of libations; she accepted a glass of champagne with a nod of thanks. Sipping it, she made her way slowly around the room, observing the beautifully dressed ladies and the dapper gentlemen. None of the gentlemen were as handsome as William, she thought, and then she was overcome with a feeling of grief so deep and so painful that she was forced to sink into a chair.
She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder; looking up, she saw Lady Cowper looking at her with sympathy.
Rising, Elizabeth said, quickly, “I am sorry, my lady; just a momentary faint.”
Lady Cowper said, softly, “My maid has a sister in service at Pemberley; she wrote that Mrs. Darcy had been badly treated by Lady Anne and chose to leave for parts unknown.”
Elizabeth gaped, and then began to stutter an explanation, but Lady Cowper shook her head. “No, Mrs. Darcy, I did not intend to alarm you, and I have forbidden my maid to reveal your whereabouts. I only wish you to know that I have some understanding of what you have endured and I wish you well.”
Elizabeth managed to thank her hostess, who nodded kindly and walked away.
The party continued; she was introduced to a good many people, though she later recalled none of their names. She persuaded Mary away from the pianoforte, and the two of them made a fine dinner from the wide assortment of pies, patés, hams, capons, ices, jellies, and more. Two gentlemen made it a point to keep their glasses full, which worried Mary at first, but their good manners and respectful behaviour soothed Mary’s initial alarms.
When Elizabeth thought they had stayed long enough, she whispered into Mary’s ear, and the two ladies thanked their hostess and were soon back at Darcy House. “Was it so very terrible, Mary?” she asked.
“Not at all; the pianoforte was an excellent instrument, and Miss Landon an outstanding musician.”
Elizabeth smiled. “And the gentlemen who spoke with us during dinner?”
“It was fine, though I do not look for such attentions, you know.”
***
As the days went on, though, Mary gained confidence. Elizabeth and Kate praised her a good deal – her looks, her complexion, her music – and she blossomed under their warmth. She attended a few meetings with like-minded women, and became ever more certain that she was just as good (if not better) as any man walking the earth. Elizabeth privately thought that if Mary had exchanged one religion for another, as appeared to be the case, it was a very beneficial switch indeed.
***
Elizabeth received a letter from Lydia, which she read at breakfast, first smiling and then frowning.
“Not bad news, I hope?” Mary said.
“Read it,” Elizabeth said, passing it to Mary.
Dear Lizzy,
I think it very bad of you to invite Mary to London and not me! Mary cannot possibly enjoy Town as much as I! Mama says you have bought her a whole new wardrobe, and if you do not send me at least a new winter cloak, I shall think you the worst sister in the world!
The militia have come to town, and there are any number of gentlemen in red coats who have been happy to call on Longbourn! Kitty says they come to see her, but nothing could be further from the truth! Lieutenant Wickham has been most particular in his attentions, and I think him the handsomest man in the entire world. He says he knows the Darcy family well and that they are far too high in the instep for his tastes. But he likes me very well, so perhaps it is just as well that I am not in London, though I mean what I say about the cloak!
Your affectionate sister,
Lydia
“Why do you frown so, Lizzy? It is just Lydia’s usual nonsense.”
“I know this Lieutenant Wickham, and he is a very bad man.” Elizabeth went on to tell her sister what she knew of the man and Mary’s eyes were wide by the end of her story.
“You must write to Papa at once,” Mary said.
Elizabeth went immediately to her room to pen her letter.
Dear Papa,
I send this letter by messenger so that you will actually open it! Lydia writes about a Lieutenant Wickham, who is evidently paying her a good deal of attention. Papa, Mr. Darcy knows Mr. Wickham all too well, as he is supporting six of Mr. Wickham’s natural children. Mr. Wickham attempted to woo Mr. Darcy’s sister, who was fifteen years old at the time, with his eye on her thirty thousand pound dowry.
My husband also holds some three thousand pounds of his debts to merchants, so our merchants in Meryton must not extend him credit. They must be warned as soon as may be.
Papa, you must stop Lydia from seeing him; moreover, you must make certain that his character is made known throughout Meryton. I have told you what I know, and I now rely on you to keep our family and neighbours safe.
Your Devoted Daughter,
Lizzy
Elizabeth ran downstairs to find Thompson, and charged him to have a messenger take her letter to Longbourn, place it into Mr. Bennet’s hand, and await a reply.
***
The reply came the next day.
Dear Daughter,
You did right to send the letter by messenger. I would have read it soon enough in any case, as I enjoy reading the few letters you send (yes, this is in the nature of a complaint, though I know myself to be a dilatory correspondent), but I might have delayed a few days.
I have forbidden Lieutenant Wickham entry to Longbourn, though at great personal sacrifice, as Lydia has not yet stopped her loud weeping. I have also communicated your information with Sir Lucas, who has taken it upon himself to visit the merchants in town. Evidently Wickham has already accumulated a rather significant amount of debt, and the shopkeepers plan to go as a body to complain to Wickham’s commander, a Colonel Forster.
Next time I trust you will write with less troublesome news.
Yours, Etc.
Papa
***
The following day, a letter came from Lydia expressing her outrage at Elizabeth’s actions in depriving her of so desirable a suitor; Elizabeth cast it into the fire.