Chapter Two #2
At first, Louise was convinced it would be all right, that her lover would come directly home and marry her, and she managed to convince Madeline of that as well.
But by the time October came around, Louise’s swelling belly was becoming too hard to conceal and her letters to Cambridge went unanswered.
Madeline gathered up her courage and went to Pemberley.
Mr Wickham senior was dead by then, but it was known that Mr Darcy was the younger man’s godfather: he would ensure Wickham married Louise and everything would be all right.
Mr Darcy senior, though, was not at Pemberley. He was in London. Having known Mrs Reynolds for many years, Madeline asked to speak to her privately and poured out Louise’s tale. Disapproving, but sympathetic, Mrs Reynolds promised to write to the master.
“But before a response could be had, Louise went into labour,” Madeline concluded.
“She was more than two months before her time. The distress and the worry caused it, the doctor believed – and the fact that she was carrying twins. Neither my sister nor her daughters survived the birth. She died in my arms, still believing that her dear Wickham would come for her.”
Elizabeth was wide-eyed with shock. Mr Bennet, older, and a man of the world, sat back, thought for a moment and said “Mrs Gardiner, this is a shocking tale – but – it is a story of a young man of but eighteen or so. I do not doubt he was most regretful…”
“He denied it all,” Mrs Gardiner said flatly.
“When informed of the date of Louise’s lying-in, he claimed that he could not possibly have been the father, because he had been at Cambridge around the dates she had to have conceived.
She was not even seven months along; but it was twins and they were big.
Everyone thought her further along than she was, and so Wickham managed to convince the elder Mr Darcy that Louise had lied.
No one had ever seen them together – I had no inkling of it until she told me – but my sister was no liar.
She had no reason to lie. Any other man would have married her in a minute, and my father would have seen them well set-up.
As it was, the shock killed him – he died, I am convinced of a broken heart, not a month after Louise – and I went to Oxford to stay with my brother while he finished his studies – which is where I met my dear Edward. ”
She went on to tell them that her reputation had been destroyed along with Louise’s in Lambton, but there were still a few faithful friends there who maintained correspondence with her.
One of those friends had told the younger Mr Darcy of Louise and Wickham, after he inherited Pemberley, and a year or so after that he had come to visit the Gardiners in London.
He told Mrs Gardiner that he did not doubt her story for a moment, that Wickham had been just as wild in his behaviour at Cambridge, and offered his sincere condolences for her sister’s death.
“He told me that his father had wanted Wickham preferred to the living at Kympton,” Mrs Gardiner said, “and upon seeing my reaction, told me most emphatically that he was well aware Wickham should never be a churchman and that he had paid him the value of the living, in some thousands of pounds, instead, and that Wickham had signed away those rights.”
Elizabeth gasped. So Mr Darcy had denied Wickham the living! But thousands of pounds paid in recompense was no small thing, and a man who could behave so disgracefully should indeed never have care of a congregation.
“Well, I have never met this Wickham,” Mr Bennet broke the silence that fell after Mrs Gardiner had finished speaking, “but I could not doubt you, Madeline, not after your sister’s dreadful tale. I am so very sorry. You never told us.”
“It was such a scandal.” Madeline touched her handkerchief to her eyes. “I told Edward, of course, but after getting to know Fanny – forgive me, but I suspected that she would find the tale too good not to share.”
“Quite right, and it shall not leave this room, shall it, Lizzy? I believe that Mr Wickham should be exposed – I cannot leave my neighbours’ daughters vulnerable to such a man any more than my own – but we need only say that it was a young lady of your acquaintance in your youth that was so meanly used. ”
Mrs Gardiner agreed, turning to Elizabeth.
“Lizzy, my dear, I am so sorry to disillusion you. I know how you pride yourself upon your discernment. But Mr Wickham is possessed of a handsome face and the most charming manners, and he has many years of practice in dissembling. I could not possibly take the risk that you, or one of your sisters, might be taken in by him. It was such a shock to read his name in your letter, I hardly knew what I was about, only that I must get to you as quickly as possible. I had such a premonition of disaster!”
“Oh, my dear Aunt,” Elizabeth knelt at her aunt’s feet and took her hands.
“Thank you. You have shocked me greatly, but I am not so fixed in belief of my own superiority of understanding, as to resent your guiding knowledge! It is a grievous shock indeed, to discover that any supposed gentleman could be capable of such duplicitous behaviour, but as you said in your earlier letter ‘there is wickedness in this world’ and we should be silly indeed to think that it might never touch us. With your permission, I will call all of my sisters and my mother downstairs, and you can share with them your knowledge of Mr Wickham, without of course disclosing your sister’s identity.
Rest assured that I shall never tell even Jane.
She will be shocked to the core as it is, for she never likes to think ill of anyone! ”
“Yes, yes, Lizzy, go and tell your sisters and your mother that your aunt would like to speak to them in the parlour. And if you send Mr Collins to me, I shall sacrifice a half-hour of my time to keep the bumbling idiot out of the way.” Mr Bennet sent Elizabeth on her way and reached for the sherry.
“I’d better top up your glass, Madeline. You have been very brave.”