Chapter Thirty-Six
The next morning in church, Emma found herself smiling as the banns were called for the third time, proclaiming her engagement before all of Highbury; it was impossible for her not to enjoy the sight of Mr. Bingley beaming with pride.
Her joy was no less at hearing the banns called for the first time for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, who sat together grinning like lovesick fools, too lost in one another to be sensible of his sister and cousin’s gleeful whispering and sly looks in their direction.
Next the banns were called for Mr. Bennet and Miss Bingley – an event that made Emma turn a sour face on the haughty creature she would soon be obliged to call sister – and then something remarkable occurred.
An exceedingly fashionable older woman who sat with the Bateses stood and voiced her objection, and a collective gasp rippled through the chapel.
Emma turned to comfort her father, who seemed particularly distressed, for he had been largely unaware of most of what she had been about for the last month.
Charlotte was seated in the pew in front of Emma, and she turned around now, leaning over the wooden bench to whisper to Emma. “That is Miss Bates’s sister by marriage, Lady Gresham, who contrived for Jane and Lizzy to meet in Weymouth.”
“Oh! They wrote to her for aid, did they not?”
By way of answer, Charlotte merely waggled her brows before turning around to watch Lady Gresham stride up the aisle of the chapel. “I must protest the alleged engagement of Miss Bingley to Mr. Bennet. It is impossible – it cannot take place, for she is betrothed to another already.”
This time, an even more animated murmur ebbed through the assembled parishioners.
Nobody seemed to know where to look; Emma knew not whether it was most amusing to observe the expression of horror on Miss Bingley’s face and the absolute calm of Mr. Bennet at her side, Miss Bates’s radiant glee and Elizabeth and Jane’s mischievous elation, Lady Gresham’s elegant and poised vengeance, or the curate’s evident wish that it were Mr. Elton who had to face the first ever objection Highbury had ever seen when banns were called.
“Ehrm, well, please explain yourself, Madam,” the nervous curate stammered.
“I should like nothing better,” Lady Gresham declared with smug satisfaction.
She held in her hands several documents, and she raised one aloft for all to see.
“I have here a letter from Miss Bingley to Mr. John Knightley – a London barrister who hails from this very village. In the letter dated the fourth of May, Miss Bingley writes to enquire how her dowry might be legally protected for her benefit, for she discovered her intended had accrued a considerable sum of gambling debts.”
The curate Mr. Meeks attempted to shush the cries of dismay all around, and addressed Lady Gresham in a valiant imitation of authority. “Might she have been simply referring to Mr. Bennet as her betrothed?”
“To my knowledge, Mr. Bennet did not become acquainted with Miss Bingley until late June or early July, when he travelled to London with his ward,” Lady Gresham replied.
Miss Bingley stood up, her face purple with rage. “You know nothing about it! Mr. Meeks, I have never met this woman in the whole course of my life!”
“No, you have not had that pleasure,” Lady Gresham drawled, eliciting a laugh from at least half the people listening in fascination.
“But I have another letter, which details your meeting with Mr. Bennet some months later – an unsent draft of a letter in which Mr. John Knightley writes to Miss Bingley that if she is still experiencing doubts as to the prudence of her engagement, he would be happy to oblige her, for a small sum, by introducing her to several eligible prospects who will be attending a party at his home.”
Lady Gresham displayed another letter for all to see, and pointed out the barrister’s signature on the unsent missive.
At Emma’s side, her father was growing increasingly agitated, and Mr. Knightley leaned over to murmur some reassurance that he would ascertain whether his absent brother had really engaged in such sordid dealings.
Again Mr. Meeks tried and failed to call the rowdy congregation to order, but nearly all of the principal parties involved in the matter had begun talking over each other.
Lady Gresham gave the curate such a disapproving shake of her head that Emma was sure she should never recover from the mortification of such elegant disdain.
Then Lady Gresham put two fingers into her mouth and produced a shrill whistle that was followed by absolute silence.
“I have a third document; it is a draft of a marriage settlement, which names the two parties as Caroline Bingley and George Wickham.”
Elizabeth gave a loud exclamation of wicked glee, Bessie Hill clapped her hands and gave a merry hoot before embracing Martin the butler with excitement, and Georgiana Darcy actually fainted into the arms of her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Everyone was in pandemonium – everyone except for Mr. Bennet and Miss Bates, who exchanged a look that encompassed adoration, amusement, and utter relief.
Mr. Meeks tried to whistle as Lady Gresham had; he failed, and then clapped his hands, which produced no effect whatsoever. Finally, he was obliged to come down from his pulpit and approach Lady Gresham, who stood several inches taller than him. “Madam, how came you by these documents?”
Lady Gresham was fit for the stage, and Emma was ready to applaud her for the theatrical pose she struck.
“I visited the office of Mr. John Knightley under the pretense of requiring his services. He was unfortunately distracted for a considerable period of time – he was obliged to intervene in a loud and lengthy squabble between my daughter and my step-son, who both accompanied me on my errand. In my boredom during that interval, I gave in to my natural curiosity and amused myself by examining a few papers I saw on his desk. After I left his office, I discovered some of those papers had fallen into a large handbag I carried with me.”
“You stole them,” Miss Bingley screeched.
Lady Gresham smiled brilliantly. “I beg your pardon, young lady, but my method of acquiring these documents does not make you any less engaged to two men at once. That is not how the law works, whatever John Knightley has advised you.”
“You horrible bitch ,” Miss Bingley shrieked.
She flew at Lady Gresham as if she would tear her to pieces, but Mr. Bingley stood and grabbed his sister about the waist to restrain her.
Mr. Meeks was nearly caught in the ensuing uproar, and he scrambled back to his pulpit as Miss Bingley fought against her brother and hissed a few epithets at Elizabeth and her relations.
As the curate leafed through his Bible and recited the first verse he could din on familial harmony, Mr. Knightley leaned over and tapped Emma’s shoulder. “I am going to take your father back to Hartfield; I believe this is too distressing for him.”
Mr. Woodhouse agreed that he wished to be away and entreated Emma to go with them.
She found Miss Taylor, who was sitting with Mr. Weston, and the four of them hastened away just as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst worked together to haul Miss Bingley out of the church despite her continued grappling and cursing.
Mrs. Hurst trailed behind them, weeping loudly over her sister’s ruin.
Emma hesitated as she watched Mr. Bingley, who turned around and met her eye as Mr. Hurst shoved Miss Bingley into their carriage.
A month ago she might have seized this chance to sever her connection to the handsome man who even now wore a cheerful smile at the sight of her.
Instead, she only wished to go to his aid.
“Come along, Emma,” Mr. Knightley said, waving her toward his own carriage. “You know your friends will tell you everything as soon as this ordeal is settled.”
Emma had little doubt this was true, but she had no wish to wait around and be the last to hear of Miss Bingley’s long-awaited downfall.
Once they were back at Hartfield, she told Miss Taylor that her spaniel Miss Chief was in want of a walk, which was surely not untrue…
and it just so happened that her darling puppy wished to walk in the direction of Milton Hall.
When Emma reached the manor, she was shown into a small parlor where Charlotte sat by herself, brazenly listening at the adjoining door.
She swiftly righted herself from her indecorous posture to greet Emma.
“You find me alone and idle, for Lizzy and her father have gone to the Bates’ cottage – I daresay we can guess what that must signify.
Georgiana has been unwell since we left church, and Mr. Darcy and the colonel are sitting with her in the music room – I gather there is some family connection to George Wickham that she found distressing.
Mrs. Hurst is also taken ill, and I suppose her husband is somewhere taking strong drink, for it is nearly past noon. ”
Emma grinned as she took in her friend’s information. “And Mr. Bingley?”
Charlotte had no need to answer, for on the other side of the door she had been listening at, there was a shrill succession of obscenities followed by the sound of glass shattering – and then Mr. Bingley bellowed, “Enough, Caroline, or I shall send you to Bedlam instead of Bedfordshire!”
The two friends exchanged a look of shock and delight, while the puppy in Emma’s arms let out an excited yip. “Bedlam seems the obvious choice,” Charlotte drawled. “But Emma, you must be so shocked that your sister’s husband was involved in her mercenary scheming!”
“Not really,” Emma said without thinking. She surprised herself and did not speak again for a minute or more as she considered how much she resented her brother-in-law. “He forced me into an engagement with his friend, after all.”