Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
All had been planned and executed so well for the breakfast that Elizabeth felt free to visit with guests.
She stole wonderful moments with her beloved Aunt Gardiner while the Gardiner children were playing in the garden, greeted her neighbour Mr Goulding, and noted Miss Caroline Bingley, Mr Bingley’s beautiful but drear sister, in a corner scowling at the crowd.
Mr Bingley had mentioned that another sister, Mrs Louisa something—the one whose birth had not gone to plan back in December—was afraid to travel with her baby, but sent her good wishes.
His other sisters had made their excuses, as well.
How strange not to attend a brother’s wedding.
She could not imagine it, though she knew the affection she held for all of her sisters was rare, for in most families, there was at least some strife and animosity.
Elizabeth continued to circulate. She spoke at length with Charlotte about life in town and of the upcoming birth.
She checked to see that all was well with Jane, and then with Mary.
Mary said she would remain only until their father’s toast, and then would retreat to her room.
Elizabeth knew this was impolite, but it was a way to prevent a chance encounter with Mr Darcy or the colonel.
She also knew that Mary's presence would not be missed by any of the other guests, which saddened her.
To her joy, Mary had recently received good news.
The solicitor who had read Mr Collins’s will sent a letter explaining that Mr Collins had left more money than expected, and the funds would be enough for Mary to live modestly for the remainder of her life.
It seemed Mr Collins was even more frugal than anyone realised.
Mary had shaken while reading the letter and had breathed in and out over and over as if the air were clearing the worry she had bottled inside herself for so long.
She had held tightly to the letter all that day and into the evening, and admitted that she even tucked it under her pillow where it still sat, explaining that having the words that ensured her security near to where she slept helped her to dream peacefully for the first time in months.
Elizabeth was pleased for her sister, and relieved that one source of worry had vanished.
Elizabeth had just secured a cup of sipping chocolate when Mr Darcy appeared at her side seeking his own. She nodded at him, and he at her, and then they each walked in separate directions.
Charlotte had watched this, and amusement played across her face.
“Charlotte,” said Elizabeth, nearing her friend, “I beg that you not comment, please. Enjoy your husband. Or some buttered rolls.” When Charlotte snickered, Elizabeth said, “Or find a plate of tongue to bite if you will not bite your own.”
This sent Charlotte into hysterics, and Elizabeth marched away, not entirely feigning fury, and slammed into Miss Darcy.
“Heavens!” Elizabeth exclaimed, checking that her drink had not spilled on either of them. By some miracle, only the floor suffered the consequence. A servant—one sent over from Netherfield for the occasion—rushed forward with a cloth to clean it.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said Miss Darcy, “I was just seeking you out.”
“You were? Is anything the matter?”
“No.” Then her young brow furrowed. “In a way, yes. Miss Elizabeth, might I steal you away for a moment?”
Elizabeth nodded, and they went to the garden. As it was a fine day, there were other guests out of doors, so Elizabeth brought them to the less crowded side near the front gate, and they sat on a bench in the shade.
Miss Darcy said, “Do you know why my brother raced off the night of Mr Collins’s— well, the accident?”
Elizabeth shifted in her seat. “He said it was a matter of business.”
“Yes, it was.” Miss Darcy swallowed hard. “In truth, I was the business.”
“You?”
“I am not supposed to share this with anyone, and my brother would be furious if he knew I was telling you, as he swore me to secrecy. My reputation would be in tatters if the truth came out, so I beg you not to tell a soul.”
Elizabeth understood this need, and nodded her assent. Then she added, “But Miss Darcy, if you are not to tell, then why do so, especially to a near stranger?”
“You are no stranger to me, Miss Elizabeth. But more importantly, I cannot bear to be the reason you and my brother are apart. As such, I have determined to confess my sins in the hope that doing so might mend the rift between you.”
Elizabeth could think of no response, so Miss Darcy continued.
“My brother and I were raised alongside a man named George Wickham. I shall spare you a lengthy explanation, but in short, he was a scoundrel and a cheat. I did not know this, and, though Fitzwilliam attempted to separate us and hinted that I ought not trust Mr Wickham, I thought my brother was being overly cautious and unfair. I could not understand what was straining their relationship, but my brother is too discreet a man to always be truthful, to his detriment at times. I believe your not knowing this story is a perfect example, for he would sacrifice his own happiness for my reputation. And I cannot allow it to continue.”
Elizabeth found it difficult to breathe.
“In an attempt to gain a fortune that he thought was his due, Mr Wickham came to Ramsgate where I was enjoying the seaside, wooed me, and attempted to steal me away. I nearly agreed.”
Elizabeth gasped. “But you are so young!”
“My affection for Mr Wickham overtook my senses, and I thrilled at the idea of being married.”
“Married? Miss Darcy, you have much time for that. Why—”
She held up a hand. “I have heard the same from my brother and my cousin. James insists I ought not to marry for at least ten years, but we agreed on five.” She smiled shyly.
“Though I admit that if the right gentleman came along when I was eighteen, I might beg James to admit that three years from my, um, error was enough.” She giggled demurely.
“But Miss Darcy, this is no light matter. Marriage is forever, and can have dire consequences.”
Her blue eyes widened. “My jokes do not mean I do not understand. I do! I know I nearly made a ruinous decision, but my brother, being so dear to me, and because I hold him in such high regard, deserved to know of the plan. Additionally, I had a sense that I might be perceiving the situation incorrectly. Thus, I decided to write to Fitzwilliam about our impending elopement.”
“Elopement?” Elizabeth whispered, her shock sincere.
“Intended elopement.” She pulled at the ribbon at her waist. “I stalled, despite Geor—Mr Wickham’s pleas to run off, and waited for a response from Fitzwilliam.
That was when Fitzwilliam raced to Ramsgate and prevented disaster.
I have no doubt that if I had, in fact, run off with Mr Wickham, my brother would have killed him. ”
“Heavens.”
Miss Darcy’s brow furrowed in consideration of this fact.
“I only hope Mr Wickham now has the good sense to stay away forever.” She reached for Elizabeth’s hand.
“So you see, he did not wish to delay his journey to Ramsgate for even a moment out of concern for me and an awareness—far more keen than mine—of Mr Wickham’s true character.
I will add that he arrived with little time to spare, for Mr Wickham was growing impatient and less rational as the hours passed, and both he and Mrs Younge, my chaperone, were plotting to physically remove me from the hotel and force the marriage. ”
“I see.” It was shocking, but Elizabeth knew that to react too strongly might bring the story to a premature conclusion, so she kept her voice low.
“As I said, my dear brother would not wish for me to have told you any of this, so determined is he to protect my honour and reputation, but I thought you ought to know the reason for his having left the site of Mr Collins’s accident, and how conflicted he felt about it.”
“He said so?” It was so much to consider.
“Only once, but for my brother, that was significant. He does not share his feelings easily.”
“I understand.” And she did. Though she herself had seen glimpses of a different man, one who was passionate and open, she knew that what Miss Darcy said of him was true.
“Doing what is proper is one of the greatest motivators in his life, and in this case, there were no right choices.”
Elizabeth found her anger melting away. “His one aim was to protect you, and your calamity had yet to come to a conclusion, while the accident was a fait accompli. Protecting you was the right choice.”
Miss Darcy lowered her head, looking like a child rather than a young woman who had considered marriage and nearly bound herself to a dangerous man.
“What did Mr Darcy do in the end to Mr Wickham?”
“He told him to never come near us again.”
“That is all?”
“What more could he do?”
Murder seemed an appropriate choice, but if discovered, it would have had severe consequences for Mr Darcy. And yet, the story did not seem complete, and she wondered if Miss Darcy was hiding the truth or unaware of its true conclusion.
Elizabeth asked, “Where is Mr Wickham now?”
“I cannot say. I have ceased to have contact with him, as, I believe, has my brother.” She rose with a serene smile. “Come. Let us return to the festivities.”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth, her heart racing, She knew she must seek out Mr Darcy.
Incredibly, he was just outside the house amongst other wedding guests…speaking with her mother.