Chapter XX #2
“Lydia,” said Elizabeth, clinging to patience but firm enough that her sister did not misunderstand her displeasure, “can you truly say that Mr. Wickham has not behaved badly? What honorable man takes a young girl with him when he flees his troubles?”
“Mr. Wickham said he would marry me,” mumbled Lydia, as if hoping that she would make it true by saying it.
“He lied,” said Elizabeth, knowing bluntness would reach her more readily than tact. “In fact, Mr. Wickham left Brighton when his creditors began to call for him to settle his accounts.”
“Creditors?” squeaked Lydia, aghast.
“Yes, Lydia—Mr. Wickham is a debtor. Not only did he accumulate debts in Brighton and Meryton, but he also owes substantial debts to Mr. Darcy. Did he not confess to Mr. Darcy that he took you because it made his escape easier for him?”
Shamed, Lydia looked down at her hands again. Elizabeth watched her, then decided a little pointed reminder would not go amiss.
“Lydia, I suggest you forget everything you believed about both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, for we have misjudged both. Not only you and me, but everyone in our family.”
“What care do you have for Mr. Darcy?” demanded Lydia, some heat returning to her voice.
Before Elizabeth could respond, the housekeeper entered, announcing dinner. Elizabeth shot a meaningful look at her sister, then rose to invite the company into the dining-room, looking to Colonel Fitzwilliam as the highest-ranking man in the room. He only laughed and gestured to Darcy.
“I shall allow my cousin that honor, Miss Bennet,” said he. “If I presume to tweak his nose, unpleasant scenes might ensue.”
Mr. Darcy, it seemed, was not at all put out by his cousin’s teasing, as he approached Elizabeth and offered his arm at once. It was not difficult to see Lydia’s confusion, but Mr. Bennet stepped into the breach.
“Come, Lydia, you shall sit with your Papa tonight.”
That Lydia was not eager was a fact that no one misunderstood, but the girl did not protest. The seating arrangement was not at all typical, but Elizabeth supposed there was no need to stand on ceremony.
While the table was small enough for general conversation and only hosted a few diners, Mr. Darcy leaned in close the moment they sat.
“I hope your reunion with your sister was all you expected.”
“There has been little reunion as such,” replied Elizabeth. “Though I am pleased that Lydia is returned to us unscathed, matters cannot continue as they have.”
“What do you suppose she has learned?”
“That is a question I cannot answer, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth. “Lydia is chastened for the moment, but I have no notion about how long that will last.”
As Mr. Darcy pondered this, Mr. Gardiner spoke up.
“I have already dispatched a letter to Madeleine informing her of our success. She will inform my sister and her daughters of the salient points.”
Mr. Gardiner looked down the table at Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. “Of course, a certain future event will likely supplant any gossip already circulating. Unless I miss my guess, given my sister’s industrious nature, I suspect it already has.”
Everyone in the room caught the nature of the jest, though as he was not acquainted with Mrs. Bennet, it was not as humorous to Colonel Fitzwilliam. There were a few chuckles and knowing looks, but it appeared Lydia had not understood there was even a joke, let alone what it was about.
“Am I to be sent away?” asked Lydia in a small voice.
“No, Lydia,” replied Mr. Bennet. “You shall return to Longbourn with us. Though you behaved foolishly, in the end you showed some fortitude in refusing Mr. Wickham. But there are a few things you must understand before we return.”
Though Lydia appeared to believe this event was the death of all her fun, she nodded, bracing for his judgment. Mr. Bennet saw this, and though in other circumstances he might have offered a jest, this time he kept his stern countenance.
“We have concocted a story that will explain your adventure, Lydia,” said he. “No word of the truth must ever pass your lips.”
Lydia listened, but she said nothing. Mr. Bennet eyed her for a moment, and when she did not speak, he continued.
“This matter has the potential to be ruinous for us all. Not only did you run away from Brighton with Mr. Wickham, but you lived with him for several days. I apologize if I am putting this indelicately, but I believe directness will serve us in this instance. If our neighbors learned the truth of your situation, do you suppose they would believe you kept your virtue?”
The girl squirmed, but she was unable to deny the truth of his words. “They would always whisper behind their hands, even if they professed sympathy.”
Mr. Bennet gave her a slow nod. “The gossip would persist, and it might ruin you and everyone in your family by association. You must never speak of this to a soul, Lydia. When we return, I shall make it clear to your mother and sisters that they must all hold their tongues too—your very future depends on this secret.”
Lydia nodded, appearing miserable.
“Furthermore, it is time that you learned what it means to be a young gentlewoman. You have spoken about what a lark it would be if you were the first of your sisters to be married, but that silliness must stop. Restraint is a quality that is prized in our society—you must learn to comport yourself as a young woman should.”
Again, Elizabeth was certain Lydia thought her life would now become dreary, but she did not protest. The next comment came from a most surprising source.
“Tell me, Miss Lydia,” said Mr. Darcy, “why do you wish to marry so young?”
Lydia regarded Mr. Darcy as if she thought he was being severe with her. When he waited patiently for her reply, she lowered her head again.
“Should I not wish to marry?”
“Not at all,” said Mr. Darcy. “Marriage is a laudable institution—I dare say most of us hope to find happiness with a suitable companion. However, marriage is also a passage into adulthood.”
Lydia looked up, and Mr. Darcy smiled. “When I was your age, I was much more concerned with fishing, riding, and learning to shoot than taking on the cares of an adult. You are yet young, Miss Lydia, and need not concern yourself with such things. Why should you rush toward responsibilities that will come soon enough? The responsibilities of adulthood come on us all—we cannot avoid it. But I hardly think we need to hasten the experience.”
The comment provoked a thoughtful expression, but Lydia soon shook it away, growing suspicious. Elizabeth saw her sister’s eyes dart to her, then back to the gentleman, and she asked the question Elizabeth had not answered in the sitting-room.
“If you will pardon me, Mr. Darcy, why are you here?”
Had the question been ungracious or demanding, Mr. Bennet might have reprimanded her.
It appeared Lydia had learned a little, though it may be nothing more than suppressed spirits after her disastrous adventure.
Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy, and the gentleman shrugged at the implicit question.
Then she turned back to Lydia, who was waiting with obvious impatience.
“When we were in Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy proposed to me, Lydia. We are engaged.”
Had Elizabeth not been looking for it, Lydia’s expression of utter shock might have diverted her. As it was, she waited for the coming explosion, and was not surprised when Lydia provided it.
“Engaged? That is impossible!”
“Why should it be impossible?” asked Mr. Darcy.
There was a certain wry amusement in his question that even Lydia had the sense enough to detect, though she was not amused by it.
“Why, because Lizzy does not like you.” Lydia glared at him suspiciously. “As I recall, you do not like her either. Did you not declare her not handsome enough to tempt you?”
Mr. Gardiner did not hold in his laughter. “You informed us of your history, but I do not recall that phrase ever making its way into your account. I must wonder why, for it is rather farcical.”
“Perhaps that is why,” said Elizabeth, throwing her uncle a saucy look. “Do you suppose we wish to share it with all and sundry?”
“Unless I am mistaken,” said Mr. Bennet, “you have shared it with all and sundry. In Meryton, at least, the story is not at all unknown.”
“You spoke of it?” asked Mr. Darcy, nothing of censure in the question.
“At the time, I thought it nothing more than an amusing story,” replied Elizabeth. “Had I known you would change your mind, I might have practiced circumspection.”
“Well,” replied Mr. Darcy, deep in thought, “I suppose we shall have an amusing tale to tell our children.”
“That is the spirit, Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet, sotto voce.
“Will you stop this nonsense?” demanded Lydia. “I cannot believe that Lizzy changed her mind during a short visit to Derbyshire. You could not have been there for more than a few days.”
“It began before then, Lydia,” replied Elizabeth. Though she was speaking to her sister, Elizabeth’s eyes never left Mr. Darcy. “In Kent, I saw a different side of Mr. Darcy and my opinion gradually altered. When we met in Derbyshire, I was prepared to see Mr. Darcy as he truly is.”
“And I could not be more grateful that you did,” asserted Mr. Darcy.
Lydia, it seemed, was not convinced, but a look at her father told her that to protest would not be in her best interest. For her part, Elizabeth did not much concern herself with Lydia’s attitude.
Before long, her behavior with Mr. Darcy coupled with Mrs. Bennet’s frenzied preparations would convince her.
If Lydia harbored suspicions that Elizabeth was marrying Mr. Darcy for his situation, wealth, or any other such foolish considerations, she would not concern herself a jot.
“Tell me, Miss Lydia,” said Mr. Darcy, some thought coming to him, “you are yet fifteen, are you not?”
“I turned sixteen two months ago,” replied Lydia, though it was barely less than a retort.
“Of course,” said Mr. Darcy. “I apologize, Miss Lydia—I was unaware of your birthday.”