Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A fter leaving Darcy, Elizabeth immediately began anticipating seeing him again later that morning. He and Mr Bingley sometimes joined the Bennets at breakfast, but Darcy had told her that he liked to be at Netherfield to see his sister. It meant he also had to spend more time with Mr Wickham—and see the couple together—but there was no other alternative. She could only imagine how vexatious it was to have to see him and not show his true sentiments, but both she and Darcy knew they were—in a strange, twisted way—fortunate the man evidently took pleasure in torturing Darcy by forcing him to see how enamoured Georgiana was of him and how much control he had over her thoughts and actions. There was an ever-present threat hanging over their heads, that of Mr Wickham taking Georgiana away, keeping her from Darcy and his relations. If he did, Elizabeth knew Darcy would never be entirely happy again despite anything she might do.
By the time two hours after breakfast passed, Elizabeth was beginning to wonder where Darcy was. Another hour later, a caller finally arrived: Mr Bingley. He greeted everyone, and when Mrs Bennet asked after Darcy, said a jovial, “You find me quite on my own this morning,” and went to sit with Jane.
Instantly, Elizabeth feared the worst—Darcy’s doubts about her and their engagement had returned, or the pressure of the situation had overwhelmed him. But then, surely, Mr Bingley would not be chatting animatedly with Jane? Before she permitted panic to overtake her further, she went for a short walk about the house. The exercise was enough to clear her thoughts, and she returned to the parlour intending to ask Mr Bingley what he knew of Darcy’s plans for the day.
She did not have to; seeing her, he immediately came to her, and, after apologising, said, “Darcy asked me to give this to you, but I am afraid I forgot.”
“I am sure it makes no difference. Thank you for delivering it now.” Elizabeth placed the note into her pocket and watched as he returned to her elder sister. Not wanting to wait to read the missive, she excused herself and went to her chamber.
My dearest Elizabeth,
Before I write anything else, let me once again tell you how much I regret allowing myself to have doubts about you. I love you more than I could ever express. I trust you to know I am not avoiding you when I tell you that I have gone to town for several days. I told Georgiana it was to see my solicitor to prepare for our marriage—and I shall—and that is the excuse I ask you to share with your family and anyone else who enquires. Bingley and I had a lengthy discussion this morning, and he encouraged me to go away, to take a period of separation from Wickham and, I hope, be able to rest. Then I might avoid becoming so lost in disordered thinking that I end up insulting you, my dearest Elizabeth, or inadvertently making a grave mistake with my sister and Wickham.
You are correct that I cannot change that Georgiana married him, and I must learn to accept it, to make the best of what has happened for her sake. Either Wickham will do as we all expect and abandon her, at which time she will require her family to support her through her disappointment, or he will remain by her side, if only to benefit from my wealth and our family’s position in society. The enmity between us cannot persist, and while I shall never like or respect him again, I can—I must—learn to live with him more peacefully. I cannot see what the future looks like with him as my brother-in-law or imagine how I shall do as you wisely determined we should and make him desire to be like the boy I remember fondly, but I am hopeful that I shall once I do not have to share a house with him.
As much as I wish to avoid him, I cannot survive long being separated from you. I promise I shall return in no more than four days.
Yours forevermore,
F Darcy
She read his words of love and reassurance many times before clutching the paper to her chest, closing her eyes, and sighing. “I shall see you soon. Be well, my love.”
Without knowing it had been necessary, Elizabeth sensed that they—he in particular—had passed a vital test. He would be well; he would return as the strong, decisive man she had met in July, and—together—they would accomplish everything they set out to do, starting with resolving the problem of Mr Wickham.
The first night Darcy was at his townhouse, he slept. He retired hours before he usually did, seeking his bed immediately after having a hearty dinner; it was amazing how not having to see or hear Wickham improved his appetite. One of his first thoughts the next morning was that he owed Bingley yet another debt of gratitude for encouraging him to come to London. I feel more myself already, and a day or two longer will restore me enough to face Wickham and do what must be done. He disliked being separated from Elizabeth, but he was confident she understood why it was necessary.
He did as he said he would and met with his solicitor. He also spoke to his housekeeper about preparing the mistress’s chamber and other rooms in the house for the day Elizabeth was his wife; he vowed again that he would convince Mr Bennet to cease withholding his consent. With the goal of finally being married before him, Darcy supposed it would be slightly easier to act as though he was willing to accept Georgiana and Wickham’s union. For Elizabeth, he repeated many times. I shall do it for her, to see her happy, and to hasten the day she is truly mine and I am truly hers.
He met Bramwell, the only one of his relations in town; he would leave by the end of the week to begin the journey to Shropshire.
“Mother will be pleased when I tell her I saw you and you appear to be well. As well as possible, under the circumstances,” Bramwell said when they had dinner together. “She is worried for you, but especially for Georgiana, which is understandable.”
“You must tell her she need have no anxiety on my behalf. I am managing well enough.”
Bramwell laughed. “Are you? Then you must be a saint. I doubt I could make it through a full day at Netherfield with Wickham there. I might not murder him in that time, but the temptation would test me. As for Georgiana?—”
“It does no good to lecture her or try to make her see the situation as we do,” Darcy interjected. “It will only make her withdraw from us further. Speaking of Wickham…” He explained what Elizabeth had been doing.
“That is why Rebecca asked me about the past! She said Elizabeth wanted to know, but I never questioned why. I do not know that I helped much. At the moment, I cannot think of Wickham and anything pleasant at the same time.”
“I understand,” Darcy said.
“Have you heard from my brother?”
Darcy nodded. “He tells me he will soon be free to go to Hertfordshire.”
“Father’s doing. He wrote to someone or other who was able to convince the right person to give him leave. To return to Elizabeth’s idea, it might drive Wickham mad if you start acting as though you want to be friends again. Or friendly.” Yet again, Bramwell laughed, this time until there were tears in his eyes. “I had the most wonderful image in mind of him gaping at you stupidly, watching his hopes of making you miserable vanish.”
“I doubt I shall ever be anything but miserable when I think of him, let alone when I see him.”
“As long as he does not realise you are the one doing the deceiving. He has always believed he was more intelligent, more wily than anyone else, and that means he will not guess what you are about. To be sure, he might find it a little difficult to believe you are sincere at first, but I predict you will successfully trick him,” Bramwell said. “You must write to Fitzwilliam, explain your intentions to him, before he arrives in Hertfordshire. We might even bring my mother into it, have her write to Georgiana and…I do not know. Be more conciliatory, perhaps speak of having them to stay at Romsley Hall.”
They spoke a little further of possibilities, and when Darcy left his cousin late that night, he realised that he felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I let myself forget that I was not alone, that there were others willing to fight on my side, so to speak. Elizabeth, Bramwell, Rebecca and her parents, Fitzwilliam. Even Jane, in her quieter way, has helped, if only by making Bingley happy and distracting him from having such horrible house guests.
Still, no matter what they did, Georgiana remained married to Wickham. Nothing would erase that fact, and Darcy feared that the day would come when she deeply regretted her foolish elopement, and she suffered because of the sort of man she had taken as her husband. There was nothing to do but be prepared to care for her and support her in whatever manner was open to them. None of their family or true friends would abandon her.
The following afternoon, while walking in the park, Darcy encountered Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley, who were with a small group of friends.
“Mr Darcy,” Mrs Hurst said, rising from her curtsey and glancing at her sister, who did not look at him. “Has my brother come to town too?”
“He has not.”
“Does your…friend remain at Netherfield, partaking of my brother’s generosity? He is the son of Pemberley’s old steward, if I recall correctly,” Miss Bingley said.
“He is, and yes, Mr Wickham is still in Meryton, as is my sister,” he confirmed.
“I am surprised you have not returned to Derbyshire,” Miss Bingley said. She pursed her lips and kept her eyes averted.
“Perhaps then Bingley could be convinced to rejoin his family and spend his time with our friends here,” added Mrs Hurst, a sharp edge to her voice.
Their cool manner alarmed him for a moment. Had they heard of Georgiana’s marriage? Did they suspect she had eloped with Wickham? But no, if that were so, they would have written to Bingley, demanding he distance himself from the Darcys in order to protect their family’s reputation, especially as Miss Bingley remained unwed.
“Bingley is resolved to remain at Netherfield,” he said. “He is happy there, and I, of course, shall not leave until I can bring my bride to Pemberley with me. I shall be in town until the day after tomorrow. If you have any messages you would like me to carry to your brother, I would be glad to.”
Miss Bingley continued not to look at him, almost acting as though wounded. If she was disappointed Darcy had not taken a romantic interest in her, she had only herself to blame; he had never given her cause to suppose he would. He wondered how much worse her manner would become when it was necessary to announce that his sister had married Wickham. Any pretence of amiability between them would end. How many friends might he lose? How much gossip and speculation would there be, and what could he do to lessen it?
“That is kind of you,” Mrs Hurst said. “Good day, Mr Darcy.” She and her sister were gone in an instant, hardly waiting for him to say goodbye.
The meeting bothered him more than it should over the next few hours. It was not the prospect of no longer being able to call the Hursts and Miss Bingley friends; they never had been true friends. Rather, it was the possibility of similar encounters with people whose company he did value that depressed his mood.
I am borrowing trouble . It was what Elizabeth would argue. He would be fortunate if she was not vexed with him for leaving Hertfordshire as he had. Once he was there with her again, he would show her that it had been worth it in light of his restored spirits. Time in town might work to their advantage in other ways. He could tell his sister and Wickham that it had provided him time to set aside his shock, which allowed him to be more accepting. He despised the thought of lying, yet he had been forced to do a great deal of it since October.
There was more good that could be accomplished during this present interlude. He had not been especially kind to the Gardiners last summer. He had not been unkind either, but he had considered them his inferiors. His relations had questioned his choice to marry Elizabeth, and he had readily admitted that her connexions were beneath his own, privately thought that some of her family members displayed an alarming degree of impropriety—chiefly Mrs Bennet and her two youngest daughters—all the while believing that his family would never behave so indecorously. Yet, it was his sister, with all her advantages of birth and fortune, who had eloped with an entirely worthless man, his sister whose behaviour threatened them all.
I hope I have a better understanding now. Everyone was capable of being good or bad, respectable or not. Elizabeth, because of her love for him and, to a lesser extent, Georgiana, would do everything in her power to improve their present distressing circumstances. Meanwhile, Lady Catherine—whom Darcy partly blamed for Georgiana’s elopement—did nothing.
“Elizabeth values the Gardiners, and because I love her, I shall love them.”
He would call on Mrs Gardiner the next day and, with luck, would see Mr Gardiner as well—even if it meant visiting him at one of his warehouses.