Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“Rather she was too well amused,” Mrs. Dashwood sighed.
“She crossed paths with an officer who once served in the regiment here – I think he may have gone to visit the Forsters, but it is unclear what his intentions were. It is certain, however, that the pair left Hampshire together early that morning, and whatever Mr. Wickham’s intentions, Lydia believes his purpose is elopement. ”
“Elopement,” Elinor breathed, letting out a low groan.
“Wickham!” Lady Rebecca fairly snarled and exchanged a significant look with Elinor. “I trust you recall the particulars of that libertine’s character.”
“But I thought he was taken to London to await the assizes,” Mrs. Dashwood sighed.
“No; he escaped, I remember Colonel Fitzwilliam speaking of it,” Elinor said. “I have heard that he had imposed himself on young ladies of fortune before – the colonel even warned my uncle about it.”
Mrs. Dashwood clenched her jaw, her eyes closing as she attempted to maintain her composure.
“I suppose my brother did not think it necessary to warn Lydia, after resolving to confine her to the house – and he could not have expected her to encounter the man in Hampshire, when we all believed him to be imprisoned in London.”
Lady Rebecca looked as if she were ready to fight the very devil.
“Oh, where is my brother? He returned to the regiment yesterday with the colonel who shall take his place.
I know he intended to track Wickham down while he was in London.
My cousin Darcy despises Wickham more than anybody, and surely Richard would have spoken to him about it – but they may have been looking in the wrong place!
Lady Rebecca stood and began to pace. “But then, perhaps not – if Wickham’s intention is to elope with Miss Lydia, they shall have to pass through London – after two days, they may have already done so, or they may be in the city even now.
But leave it to me, Mrs. Dashwood, dear Elinor.
When Richard arrives, he shall manage everything. ”
“You are generous and clever, Lady Rebecca; you have my family’s thanks,” Mrs. Dashwood said. “This may give Fanny some comfort, for my sister-in-law has kept to her room since we learned of Lydia’s disappearance, and she is worked into a terrible state.”
“And her poor daughters deprived of today’s festivities,” Lady Rebecca tutted. “The poor creatures! But I shall not let them face ruin, no indeed. And perhaps Elinor and Marianne may want to wait out the scandal here at Netherfield? Surely their aunt cannot require them to attend her.”
“That is very kind,” Mrs. Dashwood said.
“My brother is to meet with Colonel Forster in London – I nearly wish I could accompany him, to begin the business of taking over Norland, but I believe my presence at Longbourn, and that of Kitty, Mary, and Mrs. Phillips ought to suffice in comforting poor Fanny.”
“And it will surely give her some relief to know that the colonel is already aware of Mr. Wickham’s escape from justice,” Elinor said. Despite her own dismay at the shocking news, Elinor could think of nobody she would trust more in a time of crisis.
She turned to her friend with an earnest smile. “Thank you, Lady Rebecca, for offering your aid, and your compassion. Many a friend might turn their back on a family threatened with the taint of ruin.”
Lady Rebecca’s cheeks grew pink, and she began to examine the buttons on her gloves.
“Yes, well, the Fitzwilliam family is singularly remarkable in that aspect. We are all wildly fond of making ourselves useful to those who have deserved our interest and affection. But that puts me in mind of another matter I might be thanked for….”
She made a subtle motion with her head, drawing Elinor and Mrs. Dashwood’s attention to Marianne and Mr. Bingley.
The pair were still engaged in a snowball fight with Meg and Julia, and several other young people had joined in the revelry, skating about in a wild, snowy frenzy at the far end of the pond.
But where Marianne went, even amidst the chaos, Mr. Bingley managed to follow.
“She was so determined to despise him,” Mrs. Dashwood said with a rueful laugh.
“Not as determined as I have been to find him the right sort of woman. From all that I have heard of Jane Bennet, she would never have stood up to Bingley’s horrid sisters, for she tolerates them even now, in London.
But I look forward to Marianne giving the harpies the same treatment she gave Charles a month ago. ”
“I fear she may think it disloyal to her cousin,” Mrs. Dashwood mused.
Elinor had no wish to speculate, for Marianne had diligently kept her words and abstained from comment on Elinor’s personal affairs, especially as pertained to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Even so, she could not resist a smile. Jane had long ago given them her blessing to receive Mr. Bingley back into the neighborhood with warm regards, and Jane herself was soon to be engaged, if Lady Rebecca’s assertions were to be believed.
There had been an air of inexplicable tension between Marianne and Mr. Bingley at breakfast; they had stared often at one another while refusing to make any direct eye contact, but it seemed they had overcome whatever caused such awkwardness, and Elinor looked forward to hearing her sister admit she had reconsidered her disdain of second attachments.
When Mrs. Dashwood had sufficiently enjoyed her gossip with Lady Rebecca, she managed to wrangle the high-spirited pair in her charge and took her leave.
The ice skating portion of the day was coming to an end, and a select few guests were now welcomed into the house for an hour of music to be followed by cards.
Elinor embraced her mother, who made a few more remarks on the fine prospect of returning to Norland once matters were settled between Marianne and Mr. Bingley.
Elinor asked her to convey her tender assurances to her aunt and cousins, and from there it was only a short leap for her mind to return to privately longing for the colonel’s arrival.
From her apprehension at his possessing Norland, and then her awe at his gesture of returning it to her mother, Elinor had now progressed so far as to cherish a hope that he could, somehow, save her foolish cousin Lydia from ruin.
It was more than hope, she realized, as the colonel finally arrived at Netherfield and came directly to sit at her side and listen appreciatively to Marianne’s performance at the pianoforte. It was trust.
She was perfectly content to sit silently at his side, exchanging warm glances and shy smiles while her sister worked her magic at the instrument, enthralling the whole room.
They progressed to a beguiling game of subtle pantomime as she mouthed the words thank you to him.
He shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands, feigning innocence, and she regarded him with a look of stern affection before resting a hand on her heart.
He shifted on the sofa, resting one hand at his side in the space between them, and with a thrill coursing through her, unlike anything she had ever felt before, Elinor laid her hand atop his.
The colonel tipped his head toward Mr. Bingley, who stood near the far side of the room, leaning against the wall, staring at Marianne as if it were the first time he had ever seen the sun.
Colonel Fitzwilliam waggled his brows at Elinor.
Emboldened, she leaned a little nearer to him and whispered, “You should have seen them skating.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned, his posture loose and whimsical as he gave a little shake and batted his eyelashes.
Elinor screwed up her face and then grinned as she mimicked him and nodded her agreement.
His fingers wrapped around her own and remained there until they were obliged to applaud at the end of Marianne’s song.
To everyone’s surprise, Mr. Bingley announced that he and the colonel intended to perform a duet for them all. Elinor regarded Colonel Fitzwilliam with amazement. "Do you play? Or sing?”
“Aye, and very poorly – ‘tis an occupation my brothers and I devoted ourselves to, when our sisters were learning. Our dubious abilities helped Rebecca become the irrepressibly confident menace we all know and love. Bingley is quite good, but I shall only hinder his display of talent. Prepare yourself for something I hope you shall find endlessly charming in its awfulness.”
Across the room, Mr. Bingley entreated Marianne to remain at her instrument, and appeared to show her a simple medley that would accompany the song. When Richard joined them, Mr. Bingley retrieved a violin and began to play reasonably well; Marianne looked over her shoulder in wonder.
In a deep baritone, the colonel began a ballad detailing the history of Britain’s monarchs, relaying in satirical rhyming verses such scandalous truths about the royals that it was vastly diverting, if nearly treasonous.
Lady Rebecca came to sit beside Elinor, and she unfolded a letter before displaying it for her friend. “I received this a little while ago, from my stepmother Tilly in London. She writes that she has had an account of Jane’s illness from Mrs. Jennings.”
“How is my cousin?”
“On the mend, apparently,” Lady Rebecca whispered.
She turned away, momentarily distracted by some particularly bawdy lyrics about Henry the Eighth, and then she fixed Elinor with a devilish grin.
“Your Mr. Ferrars accosted Jane Bennet in the thoroughfare outside Mrs. Jennings’s home, detaining her so long in the freezing rain and snow that she took ill, though Tilly supposes the shock of the gentlemen’s assertions truly caused your cousin’s illness. ”
Elinor glanced down at the letter as Lady Rebecca pointed to the relevant passage. Her stomach twisted as she read. “He is not my Mr. Ferrars,” she murmured.