28. What Changed, Lizzy? #2
“I couldn’t do it.” Kitty’s voice dimmed.
“He said I should write a letter from Papa, authorizing Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy to transfer the Consols to another solicitor, a friend of his. And then I was to pack a valise and come to London with him, and he would arrange everything, but I could not. I tried, Lizzy. I went to the library door twice when Papa was walking in the garden, and I could not open it. I am not brave like Lydia. He said Lydia would have done it. He said Lydia would have been on the coach to London before anyone noticed, and that Kitty was sweet but too timid. He did not say it unkindly, but he made me feel like I was the sister who is too frightened to do anything—even run away with a handsome man who says I am ‘just right.’”
“Kitty.” Jane reached for her trembling hands. “Where is Wickham now?”
“He left for London a few days ago, right after Mamma announced her lottery winnings. Mamma told everyone she would only bring Lydia because Lydia is the prettiest after Jane and the tallest. She says Lizzy and I are midgets, and oh, that the tall gentlemen would not dance with us. And… he has not written me. He said he would visit Uncle Gardiner himself to help me access my Consols so we can…”
“Kitty, listen to me.” Elizabeth put her hand on her sister’s shaking shoulder.
“You did the right thing by not running away with Wickham. He is not what he seems. He has never been disgraced at Lincoln’s Inn.
The clerkship with Uncle Philips is based on forged documents.
He paid for another student to take the exams. He is a man who charms his way into town, fleeces the merchants, and tries to take dowries and fortunes from young ladies.
There would have been no elopement, no marriage—only ruin, once he had your signature. ”
Kitty’s face blanched, and she crumpled into the sort of small, shuddering grief reserved for the sister least accustomed to being chosen. Elizabeth and Jane held her close, rocking her with the only comfort they could provide.
“I was never alone with him,” Kitty said, between breaths.
“Outside of the Philips house, I mean. He wanted me to walk with him, but I was too scared. And he wanted me to come to his lodgings, but I was too scared. And he wanted me to take Papa’s seal and any documents he could use, but I was too scared.
I am always too scared, Lizzy. I am the sister who is too scared to do anything. ”
“Kitty.” Elizabeth pulled back and held her sister’s face between her hands, gazing at her with love. “You were too wise. Your instincts told you something was wrong, and you listened. That is the bravest thing any Bennet has done this year, and I include myself in that accounting.”
Kitty looked at her with the wet, uncertain eyes of a girl who had never been called brave by anyone. “You really think I’m brave?”
“You think before you act.” Jane kissed her temple. “And that takes courage. You didn’t allow Wickham to press you against your principles.”
“Yes, and we are so proud of you, sweet Kitty.” Elizabeth, too, kissed her sister, and the three of them sat in the garden while the sun shone on them, and roses budded with promise.
Elizabeth could not rest, even though Kitty’s bravery was a profound relief.
She shuddered to think what the outcome would have been had Lydia been the object of Wickham’s attentions.
However, Wickham knew that Lydia would have squandered the Consol income on ribbons and dresses.
Kitty, however, would have dutifully turned over every shilling to her so-called husband.
Providence, it seemed, had granted Kitty a measure of sense—if only her mother had even a tenth of it.
Leaving Jane and Kitty to clipping herbs in the garden, Elizabeth donned a spencer and tied a leather lead to Nettle. Her mother had left debts throughout Meryton, and she could not leave them unanswered.
The town felt smaller, tighter, as if the buildings themselves were leaning in to whisper about her.
Nettle trotted at her heels, a tiny, bristling defense against the familiar stares.
She walked past the shop windows where she had once idly dreamed of ribbons, and every matron she passed seemed to freeze, their eyes darting to her bonnet, her gloves, her very gait.
She went from an unnotable local girl to a spectacle with a ducal godmother. Everyone greeted her politely and wished her family well. She was gladly received at Mr. Mercer’s shop. His eyes went to her reticule. “Miss Bennet, we heard such marvelous things from London.”
“Yes, you heard correctly, Mr. Mercer. I have, however, come to address my mother’s account.”
“Yes, yes, that is very gracious of you.” The draper hurried to his office and returned with his ledger, showing her the purchases.
Elizabeth counted the coins from her reticule and placed the exact amount on the counter.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Mercer’s voice was oily. “Your mother is a very valued customer. I do look forward to serving her in the future.”
“You may, but her future purchases are her own responsibility. Any credit extended against my name—or the name of my sisters—will not be honored. You will require written authorization from Mr. Gardiner in London for any Bennet account.”
The man paled, the gratitude vanishing under the weight of his own lost convenience. She didn’t care. She was the one paying the bill, and she was done being the silent guarantor of her mother’s vanity.
“I understand, Miss Bennet. Perfectly.”
She repeated the operation at Mrs. Croft, the milliner, for Mr. Potts, the butcher, and Mr. Graham, the wine merchant. She had to endure questions about whether she was to marry a London lord, and several protests that Mrs. Bennet was her mother, and that Elizabeth owed her mother.
“I do honor my mother,” Elizabeth said. “But these assets are held in trusts, and the trustees will not agree to pay unauthorized debts. I am giving every merchant in town fair notice, and I shall leave a declaration with the magistrate so there are no further questions.”
By the time she reached the Assembly Rooms, her head throbbed, her gloves bore the dust of every errand, and she felt as if she had been pricked by a thousand exquisitely polite needles.
Sir William Lucas intercepted her near the portico, bowing with such excessive, theatrical grace that his hat wobbled.
“Miss Elizabeth! The talk of the county! Lady Lucas has been in a positive dither since your mother’s letter arrived.” He beamed at her, oblivious to the frost in her eyes. “A most magnificent windfall! And to have Lady Sophia herself as your sponsor—why, it is a triumph!”
“It is a change of pace, Sir William,” she said, her voice dry.
“We must celebrate! The Assembly Rooms have been dormant since Christmas, and what better occasion than to honor Hertfordshire’s own heiress?” He waved a hand toward the hall. “A grand assembly! Three weeks hence! When the roads are dry and the weather is fine.”
Elizabeth’s first impulse was to refuse.
The prospect of serving as the main attraction in a provincial spectacle, to be inspected and prodded by every family in Meryton, was hardly enticing.
Yet, as she glimpsed the knot of matrons conferring over the latest Bennet scandal, she decided her family might benefit from a little public celebration.
“That is very kind, Sir William. I would be honored to accept. Indeed, I think it is precisely what Meryton requires.”
A display of order, she thought. A place to show everyone that the Bennets were worthy, despite petticoats tracked through the mud, a mother whose nerves approached operatic level, and a father so deeply buried in his books he could not sniff out a scandal if it sat on his lap.
“Good, good,” Sir William said, rubbing his hands.
“And do invite your London friends. We would like to meet all of them. In fact, that fellow Mr. Darcy was just here. He provided me with valuable information. Great detail. Connected to the Earl of Matlock and his investigators. The very best runners. Rest assured that Mr. Wickham is not welcome in all of Hertfordshire, for he has defrauded your uncle Philips out of two hundred and eighty pounds of wages paid to what he had supposed was a clerk.”
“Two hundred and eighty pounds!” Elizabeth’s voice rose, the sheer scale of the theft piercing through her exhaustion.
Sir William nodded, his face solemn, though he could not entirely suppress the thrill of being the bearer of such sensational news.
“A staggering sum, is it not? Your uncle is beside himself. It appears that fellow Wickham convinced Mr. Philips that he was a man of connections, a graduate of the best institutions, and that he required a ‘retainer’ commensurate with his stature and the complexity of the firm’s legal filings.
He drained the coffers, Miss Elizabeth. He drained them dry. ”
“But that is a year’s salary in advance!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “And now, he has escaped to London. He has no intention of?—”
“The warrant is already drawn.” Sir William puffed out his chest, clearly relishing the authority.
“With Mr. Darcy’s absolute proof of the forgery at Lincoln’s Inn, should that scoundrel so much as show his face in Meryton, he shall find himself in the gaol before he can invent a new lie.
And, as for your Assembly, I have assured the town fathers that the Bennet family stands above all reproach.
We shall have a celebration that puts every scandal to rest! ”
Elizabeth left the portico, her mind spinning with her uncle’s loss and Kitty’s narrow escape. Nettle, untroubled by human folly, busied herself with a patch of clover and the promise of a rabbit hole.