Chapter 23
Elizabeth
After Mr. Darcy told her what he and Mr. Bingley had found out from Miss Bingley, Elizabeth shared Jane’s words about her brief encounter with Mr. Wickham.
“I was certain,” he responded, “that Wickham would have tried to arrange an opportunity to make off with Georgiana—and her thirty-thousand-pound dowry—rather than your sister, and you have just confirmed it. I gather the plan was to climb a rope into her room but then unlock her door with the key Miss Bingley gave him. But did Wickham really think he could bundle Georgie out the front door under the noses of all the servants?”
She thought about the question for a short interval and then suggested, “I think that, no matter what we discover about his plans, we must conclude that Mr. Wickham allowed his focus on revenge against you to supersede his self-interest. In other words, he took unwarranted risks.”
Darcy said, “He has always been a coward, and he used trickery and seduction to accomplish his goals, never physical force. I worry that he had an ally on the Netherfield staff, but possibly he intended to rely on Miss Bingley to spirit him and Georgiana out of the building?”
“I wonder if he was counting on Georgiana to be as compliant as she used to be?”
“Perhaps. But, as it turned out, Miss Bingley betrayed him by directing him to the wrong room. What could she have meant by that? If she was going to have him steal away or compromise a Bennet sister, I might have supposed she would target you rather than your sister.”
He blushed, and Elizabeth knew he was embarrassed to have thus obliquely referenced the fact that Miss Bingley liked him but that he liked Elizabeth.
She suggested, “If we are going to attempt to understand an irrational woman, we could suppose that she wanted to ensure Jane does not marry her brother, and that she would think that the fastidious Mr. Darcy would never choose to even speak with someone whose sister was ruined by Mr. Wickham.”
Mr. Darcy opened his mouth—by his expression, Elizabeth supposed he meant to protest—but at that point Richard and Bingley entered the room.
The latter said, “It turns out that the magistrate is Sir William Lucas, so it was easy for the colonel to fetch him. He awaits us all in the blue drawing room.”
Elizabeth, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Darcy carefully answered Sir William’s questions—and he never asked anything that led to discussing the Ramsgate incident.
The affable Mr. Bingley gave short, unemotional answers to the affable magistrate, and soon Sir William declared that he was finished with the four witnesses.
The only others he wished to question were Jane and Miss Bingley.
Elizabeth hastened upstairs to ready her sister.
That particular interview was very short.
When Jane quoted Mr. Wickham’s exclamation, ‘You are not Georgie!’ Sir William looked questioningly at Mr. Darcy.
“Should I be speaking to your sister, as well, sir?” he asked.
Mr. Darcy replied, “She knew nothing of what happened, other than the fact that she was locked in her room. But of course, Wickham knew my family from his childhood, and he definitely knew that my sister is an heiress.”
Sir William nodded briskly and then said, “Now, Bingley, lead me to your sister.”
Elizabeth saw Mr. Bingley’s embarrassment, but he acted very matter-of-fact as he led the magistrate out the door.
“How terrible this is for the Bingley family!” Elizabeth said.
She wished, now, that she had never come up with all of her plans to defeat Miss Bingley.
Since they now knew that the woman had been scheming with Mr. Wickham, the campaign of confusion over his name would have never worked.
And they had baited the trap and allowed Miss Bingley to gossip about the Countess so that she would ruin her reputation before she could ruin Georgiana’s—little knowing that she was a day away from taking ruin to an entirely new level.
Mr. Darcy had been standing at a window, looking outwards, but at her words he turned around and looked so tenderly at her, she felt her heart rate increase.
He crossed the room and sat down near her and Jane.
Elizabeth saw the colonel step out of the room, perhaps in the desire to afford them more privacy.
Mr. Darcy said, “Your care for the family does you credit.
My friend Bingley seems already set on a course that will henceforth protect others from Miss Bingley, and will hopefully see to her betterment as well.
“He is a good man, and I believe that this horrible experience has made him a stronger man. I intend to stand by him, no matter what gossip circulates, no matter what scorn comes his way, as long as he continues to be the gentleman he has displayed today. And I hesitate to say this next, lest you consider me arrogant, but my support and loyalty to Charles Bingley should go a long way to protecting his reputation, separate from whatever happens to Caroline Bingley’s reputation. ”
Elizabeth meant to reply, but Jane addressed Mr. Darcy first: “You are so good, sir. I am proud to know you.”
He seemed surprised that Jane had spoken up, and he nodded and smiled at her but instantly turned his gaze back to Elizabeth. She found herself blushing for some reason, and she revealed her current uncertainty: “I almost wish I had not been so eager to do battle….”
No servants were in the room, and Miss Bingley would not be able to eavesdrop, but still she felt that she could not say anything about the matter that they had all been focusing on of late.
But Mr. Darcy nodded his head and said, “I understand. But the fact that you have been a wonderful friend to my sister…and to me…. It means everything to me. For that reason, I cannot regret our recent efforts.”
Elizabeth found that she was worrying her lip, and she released it as she sighed. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Do you think that Sir William will allow Mr. Bingley to send his sister to be cared for and locked away? Might he move towards a public trial and imprisonment or transportation?”
“I have a feeling that he will decide that Miss Bingley was a victim of Wickham’s machinations. But if it is to be trial and punishment, that will make things much worse for Bingley and the Hursts.”
Jane gulped, and Elizabeth turned her worried eyes to her sister. Jane shook her head a bit and said, “I think we should be going home soon, Lizzy. This household has much to do, including home repairs.”
Elizabeth looked up into Mr. Darcy’s eyes again, and she felt shocked at how much she did not wish to leave. But of course Jane was correct, so she nodded and voiced her agreement.
Mr. Darcy said, “Let me know when you feel ready to go. I will alert my men to ready my carriage now.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jane said. Again she said, “You are too good.”
The sisters told Mrs. Nicholls of their newly made decision, and then they hurried upstairs.
Elizabeth found herself wondering just a little bit if Jane admired Mr. Darcy…
more than Mr. Bingley? Or in the same way that she—oh, she did not wish to even think about such things right now, let alone worry about them.
Before going to her room to pack, Elizabeth knocked on Georgiana’s door and gave her a brief update on the situation, including their decision to leave Netherfield.
Georgiana looked sad, but Elizabeth reminded her that Longbourn was only three miles away, and that horses and carriages could manage the transit every single day, as needed or desired.
She said, “Come with me while I pack, if you wish.”
Soon the three young ladies were together, and their chatter was more relaxed because they were not worrying about eavesdroppers.
Georgiana asked Elizabeth to describe her other three sisters, and Elizabeth gladly did so.
Of course, Jane being Jane, she often interrupted Elizabeth’s descriptions with gentle scolds, such as, “Oh, Lizzy, you know that Lydia has a good heart. We must not describe her character in such a harsh way!”
But despite the scolds, Jane and Elizabeth were all smiles, and Georgiana became quite excited about meeting the Bennets who were closer to her own age.
That night Elizabeth and Jane found themselves in a very familiar place—their own bedroom at Longbourn.
Their shared bed felt much cosier than what they had experienced at Netherfield, sleeping in separate rooms, and since Jane’s cold had subsided to occasional drips and blows, she felt well enough to indulge in a nice long catch-up.
It was ridiculous to think that they would have so much to say to one another, because they had just spent an entire week together at Netherfield.
But there, they had always felt surrounded by others.
It was not merely Miss Bingley and her eavesdropping that they had considered.
Many times servants were about, often in the same room with them.
The presence of the Hursts, Darcys, the colonel, and Mr. Bingley, at various times, ensured that their most private thoughts would not be shared.
They had each stored up a week’s worth of feelings and thoughts.
Elizabeth discovered that Jane was feeling even more warmly towards Mr. Bingley than she had before; and she was relieved to hear that, although Jane’s feelings of admiration had grown for Mr. Darcy, they were of the brotherly variety.
Jane had been startled to see so much warmth in Mr. Darcy's regard for Elizabeth, and she questioned her sister about her feelings for the man—murmuring her observation and question within the warm cocoon of their blankets and coverlet.
“I greatly esteem him,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Do you think that you love him?” Jane asked.
“I feel quite…nervous, fluttery, discomposed when I am near him. Is that love?”
Jane did not respond. Elizabeth did some thinking aloud: “I like the colonel, I enjoy listening to his stories, and I have so much fun teasing back and forth. Everything with the colonel feels easy and light. But….” Elizabeth licked her lips, finding it hard to describe something she had never felt before.
“I guess I would say that I feel as if I would be glad to always have Colonel Fitzwilliam as a friend, but I find myself hoping….”
She floundered to a halt, and she was glad that they were in almost total darkness. Certainly she should not feel embarrassed to say anything at all to Jane—but somehow she found herself blushing.
Jane suggested, “You hope Mr. Darcy might become more than a friend?”
“I think so. I have never had such feelings before, and I know not how to name them, or even to describe them well. But every time I realise that I might be hoping for more, I immediately start to feel terrible, because I am certain that I am not the kind of lady he is even allowed to court or wed. You understand that, too, do you not?”
“Oh, Lizzy, I do not agree. You are a gentleman’s daughter, not a housemaid. Why should you not become Mrs. Darcy?”
“Because I have only a tiny dowry and low connections. Because I have relatives in trade. And most of all, because my mother and a few of my sisters often behave in the most mortifying way.”
Jane was silent for a few too many seconds. Finally she asked, “Do you think that our family and our position in society also means that I could never hope for Mr. Bingley?”
“No, that is a very different proposition. Mr. Bingley is the son of a man in trade. Convincing a woman in the first circles to accept his proposals would likely be impossible, no matter how much money he has, and marrying you, the daughter of a gentleman, elevates him. But Mr. Darcy has even more money than Mr. Bingley, plus he has very good connections. The Darcys are apparently a very old family, a highly respected family, and it seems clear that he is in one of the topmost circles amongst the top circles. He is the grandson of an earl, and I imagine his offer would be accepted by almost all non-royal women in all of England.” She ended her speech with a gulp.
And then she pushed a few more words out of her mouth: “Why would he ever consider offering for me?”
“Oh, Lizzy.” Jane’s hug was almost as comforting as Mr. Darcy’s embrace earlier that day.
The remembrance of Mr. Darcy catching her in his arms….
The remembrance of Mr. Darcy holding her….
She had begun to think more and more about Mr. Darcy in quiet moments, especially those moments when she was lying in bed, in the dark, with nothing to distract her wayward mind.
But until today, those thoughts had been largely memories of his gaze or his smile.
Having memories of his arms catching her, clutching her—these thoughts seemed decidedly less conducive to sleep.