Chapter Thirty-Three
Elizabeth found a secluded place to lie in the sun until her chemise was dry, and then she dressed herself, her thoughts full of Mr. Darcy.
He was going to speak with her father! And she was to meet his relations that very afternoon, the sister and cousin he loved so dearly.
Even Jane was content at last; Elizabeth called at the cottage and found her sister glowing after a call with Mr. Knightley.
She hummed happily to herself as she made her way back to Milton Hall, her mind consumed by so many sources of delight, until this reverie was abruptly shattered. She made her way to the garden door, hoping to retreat to her room to fix her appearance before her dishevelment was noticed.
As she entered the garden, Elizabeth’s eye was caught by her father and Miss Bingley, who appeared to be having an argument.
She could not hear them from such a distance, but their gestures and posture signaled conflict, and they wore expressions of displeasure.
Elizabeth smiled to herself as she made her way toward the manor.
She had not reached the house before her father stormed away from Miss Bingley with a rigid bow, and he hastened toward his daughter, hailing her with affected nonchalance. “Lizzy, what luck! Walk with me awhile and spare me from being murdered.”
Mr. Bennet screwed up his face as he led her away from his fuming lady, seeming to wait for her to inquire what could mean, but when she was too stunned to do so, he narrowed his eyes and took in the state of her appearance. “Well, Lizzy, what have you been up to?”
Elizabeth blushed. “I went to sit by the lake, and after developing a penchant for sea-bathing in Weymouth, I could not resist a little swim.”
“I think you have been in the sun for too long; you are very pink.”
“Perhaps I am; I was too agreeably occupied to think of it. I suppose you have had less enjoyment in being out of doors this morning?”
Mr. Bennet furrowed his brows and grumbled. “Caroline and I have had a row.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together to suppress a smile, but she knew she could not keep the glee from her eyes, and she looked away. “Oh. I had thought Miss Bingley was inclined to always agree with you.”
“That was my initial impression of her – a mark in her favor,” he huffed. “She does not voice her displeasure, but rather acts upon it in other ways; I have had the bill from her dressmaker.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she waited to be duly horrified.
“In addition to what I purchased her in London on our journey south, and what she has spent here and there in the village since we have arrived, she visited Mrs. Bartlett on Wednesday and commissioned her entire trousseau on the credit I established for her there.”
Mr. Bennet stopped beside a hedge which shielded them from Miss Bingley’s view, if she were still skulking in the garden behind them.
He reached into his pocket and produced a receipt, then made a comedic display of putting on his spectacles to read it aloud.
“Five evening gowns at ten pounds apiece, seven day dresses at six pounds each, five spencers at two pounds apiece, four pelisses at three pounds each. A fur-lined satin cloak with lace trim and beading, purchased for twelve pounds in the height of summer! A riding habit for six pounds, and I have never seen the woman get on a horse! An assortment of bonnets, turbans, slippers, ehrm… night time apparel, shawls, chemises, gloves, shoe roses, and hair ribbons – all totaling another thirty pounds.”
Elizabeth swiftly did the math and gasped. “That totals more than double what I spend in a year.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head in frustration. “It is my punishment, apparently, for having the perverse desire to speak to your mother about the joys our children have given us these twenty years.”
Panic twisted in Elizabeth’s chest. “Does she know the truth?”
“God, no – she would ruin you and your sister in a trice.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Jane did not think you so willing to acknowledge this truth when she was in Hertfordshire."
He sighed, giving her a weary, apologetic look. “I knew she was a frivolous creature, and did not mind it, but I did not really begin to see her pettiness and other flaws until we came to Surrey.”
Elizabeth could not resist a little teasing, if only to ease his evident anguish. “When you were reminded of my mother’s superiority?”
“Among other things. Seeing you girls together, and so unreservedly allied against her – do not think me insensible to the schemes of your friends, Lizzy – I began to comprehend how unhappy you would be made by my marriage. I did not know when I wed Lady Amelia that she would make such a dismal mother figure, for she concealed her true feelings until it was too late. I suppose I ought to be relieved that Caroline has been unable to hide who she really is, but even knowing before I reach the altar is hardly any consolation; there is little I can do.”
“You can end your engagement,” Elizabeth cried emphatically.
“If she means only to punish you for paying attention to my mother at a few social events, I cannot think you wish to spend the rest of your days so unhappy. The expense of what she has done can be nothing to the misery of living the rest of your days with her. Even if you and Miss Bates are not destined to be together at last, you might find someone else to make you happy when I am wed and gone away.”
Mr. Bennet raised his brows and smiled as he latched on to this chance to change the subject. “When you are wed, eh? Was I right to fear losing you? I presume it is Mr. Darcy whom I shall soon be wishing joy?”
Elizabeth heroically suppressed a bright smile, for she would not let her father off the hook so easily.
“Papa, break it off with her, I beg you! If ever there is a time to see sense, surely you must do so now. You need hardly fear Mr. Bingley will call you out; he is as much in league with Jane and me as our other friends.”
“Oho! Is he indeed?”
“For her sake,” Elizabeth said, a tinge of censure seeping into her imploring look. “He knows that you cannot make her happy either.”
“Then perhaps he ought to counsel her to break it off. I wish with all my heart, Lizzy, that I could throw myself at your mother’s feet, even if it should yield the same results a third time, and shatter my heart beyond hope of repair – there now, you have had it out of me and may rejoice with your sister as much as you choose.
But the horrid truth is, I cannot be the one to end it.
She has already strained the privilege of using Mr. Darcy’s name in society, and she is still a tradesman’s daughter, despite her fortune and fashion.
John Knightley is one of her few other good connections, and the best he could do for her was an introduction to me.
I do not wish to damage her chances, however much she has vexed me. ”
Elizabeth fairly hissed with contempt. “Even though you have acknowledged that she would gladly do the same to Jane and me?”
Mr. Bennet took a step backward to peer around the hedge, as if fearful they might be overheard.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “I suppose I feel some guilt in betrothing myself to her in the first place; I ought to have known better, been more discerning. I might have asked you to help me find a bride, one whom you would welcome as family. Though I suppose now that you know the truth, there is only one woman whom you could ever really approve of my marrying.”
“And only one whom you know could make you happy,” Elizabeth agreed, tears of joy welling in her eyes. For all the madness of her scheme, she was really on the verge of success!
“Yes, that is true,” he admitted. “Still, it does not change the fact that honor dictates she must release me from the engagement. I am of an age that I ought to have shown twice the wisdom and prudence in making such a match – and in not allowing my feelings to be so easily swayed by your mother. I have been at fault, and I cannot in good conscience do any more damage.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I am not convinced she deserves such clemency, given her own malicious and mercenary intentions. She might have broken the engagement herself, if you had really wounded her.”
“It may take a little more mischief than that to make her willing to part with the prospect of what I can offer her – but what is this about being in league with half of Highbury?”
Elizabeth gave a rueful laugh. “It is astonishing how many people seem to comprehend what we are about and lend us their subtle support. Jane and I have done our best, but the date of your wedding is rapidly approaching; I cannot imagine what drastic measures shall be required….” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off as she reached the mimic of her humor, and other feelings overtook her.
Elizabeth took her father’s hands in his, trying to deliver her admonishment as gently as she could.
“Papa, you must not once again leave your happiness to the will of others, whose first thought is for material comfort. I have no doubt of my own future happiness, and neither does Jane, should your marriage to Miss Bingley take place. Even my mother will continue on just as she ever was. Only your life will be materially impacted by Miss Bingley; you must not depend on anyone but yourself for the remedy. Jane and I have tried and failed for weeks now; we might overturn her boat on the lake tomorrow and give her a dousing, or continue to ensure she is only served dishes she despises, but there is nothing I can think to accomplish that could be worse for such a rapacious woman than the loss of what your union would afford her.”
Elizabeth had taken delight in every instance of disobliging Miss Bingley, but she had never felt herself any closer to sending her packing, though she and her friends had been too swept up in their amusement together to see how plain it was that they were failing utterly.
She had never even admitted it aloud before until now, the very moment Elizabeth most desired to succeed.
Mr. Bennet gave a heavy sigh and nodded sadly.
“You are right, of course. It is not right that I should depend on you for any relief when the whole miserable business is my own fault. Well, now, I have much to ponder – not the least of which is whether I ought to stop perpetually plaguing Mr. Darcy and make myself scarce when he seeks an audience with me.”
Elizabeth made a droll face at him. “Now that would call for drastic measures, Papa. And consider, you may need to seek refuge at Pemberley if you cannot end your engagement.”
“I shall consider it, Lizzy, if you can convince me he is worthy of you.”
For the next half hour, that is exactly what Elizabeth did.
She had an inexhaustible supply of praise for Mr. Darcy and shared everything that she could repeat without blushing of how they had progressed from open hostility to unabashed flirtation in the space of a month.
Her father listened with heartfelt joy on his countenance, but something wistful in his eyes, and never had Elizabeth so desperately wished that her father might find his own happiness with her mother.