Chapter Twenty-One
A Curious Revelation
It was with some disappointment that Lizzy said farewell to Mr. Darcy after leaving the workshop.
Her uncle was needed back at his warehouse, and she must accompany him.
There was little time for private conversation, and certainly not enough for her to express to Mr. Darcy all she wished to say, even should he wish to hear it.
He did not yet know about Mr. Collins’ horrid proposal, nor of her rejection of him; neither had she the time and leisure to explain that she had thought about and understood so much more completely his perspective, most particularly with respect to his sister.
Now that she had begun to explore her real wishes with regard to Mr. Darcy, it seemed that the fates were conspiring to keep her from confessing her heart to the one person best able to care for it.
For Mr. Darcy, upon taking his leave, regretfully announced that he would be unable to accept another invitation to dine at the Gardiners, due to being most completely engaged all the while Lizzy would be in London.
“My aunt, whom I would most like you to meet, Miss Elizabeth, has commanded my appearance this very evening, and I am invited to join my friend Stanton tomorrow when he presents his lecture at the Royal Society. Richard, my cousin the colonel, that is,” he offered for Uncle Gardiner’s benefit, “had invited me to dine with him the following evening, and there is a musical evening after that which I must attend, for fear of offending my late mother’s dearest friend with my unexcused absence.
I do pray that you convey to your wife, Mr. Gardiner, that the choice is not mine, for I would rather be in your company, and would so choose had I not committed myself already. ”
He did, however, promise to make every effort to pay his respects during morning hours, and this he was able to do.
But whilst these visits were everything friendly and companionable, they afforded no privacy during which time Elizabeth could speak with her friend.
Even the walks they took after tea were in the company of the Gardiners’ children and nursemaid, and thus all conversation was kept to matters suitable for those ears.
When, after her week with her relations in London, she had to return to her family, she had not enjoyed a single private conversation with Mr. Darcy other than the brief walk through the park to return Mrs. Huff’s book.
It was now only two weeks prior to Christmas, and upon her return home, with her bags laden with treats for family and friends, the excitement of the season was upon everybody.
Her mother was constantly scurrying about and meeting with Hill and Cook to discuss the menus for the festive days, and then again to change her mind; Jane went about her affairs with her sweet smile upon her sweet face, and Kitty was engaged sorting through Lydia’s closets for whatever clothing of hers her sister had adopted, calling down every so often to her mother for permission to return certain items to her own rooms. “This is my shawl!” she complained, “and these my ribbons, for they suit my complexion far better than hers. Mama, why did you say Lydia could have my best pelisse?” Mary seemed unchanged, sitting at the keyboard to practice, or reading her endless tomes, and Lydia was, as often as she could arrange matters, not in the house at all, off on some errand she had told no one about.
Nobody seemed at all to notice Lizzy’s distraction and altered mood.
Charlotte had particular news for her friend, which she invited Lizzy to hear in a private tête-à-tête at Lucas Lodge on the day after her return. “You will be quite amazed,” she confided, “and I do hope you will be happy for me and not angry.”
“Whatever should I be angry about?” Lizzy had been confused, but Charlotte’s announcement made all very clear.
“I am to be married, Lizzy,” she began. Lizzy stared at her, uncomprehending of what she had heard. “It is true. I am to be wed immediately after the new year. The first banns will be read on Sunday.”
Whatever was Elizabeth hearing? She blinked, and she shook her head in case she had misheard something. “But Charlotte, I have seen no suitor... whoever can it be, to have come and wooed you in the week I was away? You are too sensible for this!”
“Please, Lizzy, be glad for me, not angry. It is Mr. Collins. After you departed for London, I came upon him on the lane where he was walking in some distress and we began to talk... oh, Lizzy, I so hoped you would understand!”
“Charlotte, I cannot trust my ears! He is not... he is not a sensible man and you are all sense. How can you think you would ever suit?”
Her friend released a great sigh and allowed her eyes to fall closed as she explained.
“It is a good match precisely because I am sensible.” She opened her eyes and caught Lizzy’s unhappy gaze.
“I am seven and twenty, Lizzy, and I am plain, have no admirers and no dowry. My parents are not wealthy, and I fear becoming a burden to them. I am not romantic, nor I have ever been. I do not seek a husband for love, but for security. And Mr. Collins, for all that he is... less than perfect in some aspects, can give me that. I will have a home of my own and the patronage of a great lady. Please, Lizzy, be pleased for me.”
This could not be so! Not Charlotte, whose words of sense had always been part of Lizzy’s life. “But to Mr. Collins? Why not any other man?”
“Because no other man has asked me,” came the simple answer. “I know what I have chosen, and I believe I have as much chance for happiness as any woman. I shall be independent of my parents and I shall be content.”
This was too much to accept, Elizabeth felt the room sway. “Then, if you are decided, I am pleased for you,” she managed, before taking her leave and running away as fast as she might, through the woods and fields, needing to find some solitude in which to compose her thoughts.
She had walked some distance through the woods and had come no closer to a resolution of her distress when she heard voices in the distance.
This part of the wood was at a remove from both Longbourn and Netherfield, and if a person were in some difficulties, it might be a long time before another chanced upon him to offer assistance.
As she approached, however, she determined that these were not sounds of distress at all, but of flirtation, or even love play.
The woman was giggling and uttering little squeals of mock protest and real delight, and the man laughed low and murmured words Lizzy could not hear.
The woman then spoke, and to her horror Elizabeth realised that she knew the voice most intimately.
Lydia! There, just beyond the woods, where the privet hedge met the trees, dallying with some man!
She ought to step in right away to put a stop to the tryst, but would alarming the man bring harm upon her sister?
Might he then publicly denounce the silly girl and bring ruin upon the family?
It was best to remain quiet and speak to Lydia later.
Elizabeth moved forward, her steps careful in the uneven undergrowth.
Although it was December, there had not yet been snow, and the carpet of brown and fallen leaves had been softened by recent rains, letting her footsteps make no sound.
There were some small evergreen shrubs and bushes at the edge of the wood, and as she came out of a gully, she thought she heard a sound behind her.
Instinct caused her to hide back behind the gorse, and she peered around the edge, thankful for her brown bonnet that blended into the landscape.
There was another giggle, a sound of somebody being kissed, and Lydia’s voice calling, “La, sir! How unkind of you to leave a lady this way!” followed by another round of laughter.
She took some comfort in the knowledge that her sister was not being coerced, then stifled a gasp as a flash of an officer’s red coat showed between the sparse twigs and branches of the hedge as he started back to the encampment.
She ducked back behind her bush for a moment until she heard Lydia call farewell to her lover and run off for the path that lay closer to the river and thence back home.
When next she dared peer out from behind the gorse, she was horrified to see the man standing there still, alongside a bush on the far side of the hedge from her own.
He was straightening his hat upon his head, and when he turned, she was alarmed to see he was none other than George Wickham!
Every word that Mr. Darcy had told her about the scoundrel flooded back into her head, and she fell to the soft earth behind the bush in horror at what her sister had done.
Think, she commanded herself. Think clearly!
The situation was compromising, to be certain, but other than allowing a kiss, it did not sound like anything irredeemable had occurred behind the hedge.
Even she, herself, had allowed a kiss or two from a handsome partner at a dance, and she could not condemn her sister for what she had done; still, she must warn Lydia, and of greater importance still, she must warn Papa!
She waited for some long minutes until she was certain Wickham had departed, then scrambled from her position behind the gorse and hurried back towards Longbourn with all due haste.