Chapter 47 Two Weeks
News from Netherfield Park reached Longbourn, and Mrs. Bennet could speak of little else throughout breakfast.
They heard from Hill’s sister that two women from Meryton had been engaged to help prepare the house, and Alice knew that the butcher had received an order large enough to supply a considerable household.
By the time Mrs. Bennet came down, Kitty had learned that wagons had been seen on the Netherfield road, fires were being lit in rooms that had been shut for months, and another servant had been hired to assist in the kitchens.
“They are coming,” Mrs. Bennet declared. “I knew Mr. Bingley would take the house. Such a charming young man! I said from the first that he must be delighted with Netherfield.”
“I believe he was delighted by Jane, Mamma,” Mary observed.
Mrs. Bennet stopped and nodded knowingly. “Yes, he was. And now that he has seen the neighborhood, what possible objection could he have to Netherfield? Mrs. Long says they are expected within a fortnight.”
Elizabeth looked across the breakfast table at Jane and caught the color rising in her cheeks.
Mrs. Bennet saw it as well. “There, Jane! You see? I told you he admired you. I knew it from the way he looked at you. Such a handsome young man, and five thousand a year!”
“Mamma, Mr. Bingley came to Longbourn upon business with Papa.”
“Yes, indeed. He began with tenants and drainage and ended with a beautiful young woman.”
Mr. Bennet lowered his newspaper. “I have often found drains and tenants more dependable than beautiful women, my dear.”
She raised her brows in protest before he disappeared behind the paper.
Elizabeth finished her breakfast without joining the discussion. Two weeks had sounded bearable when Fitzwilliam stood beside her among the roses. Now it seemed an unconscionable length of time.
Later that morning she found Jane in their room folding a length of ribbon into her workbox.
“Alice has learned from Mrs. Long that Mr. Bingley is bringing his sisters with him, and a Mr. Hurst as well,” Jane said. “I imagine they are as amiable as he is.”
Elizabeth said dryly, “Has Mrs. Long also discovered what they intend to have for dinner on their first night?”
Jane laughed. “Lizzy, you cannot blame our neighbors for their interest. Netherfield has lain empty for the past five years.”
Elizabeth sat beside her. “He is a personable young man.”
“He is. I liked him exceedingly, Lizzy. He is just what a young man ought to be, sensible, good-humored, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! So much ease, with such perfect good breeding.”
“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought likewise to be if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.”
“You tease me, but I do not believe I was the only sister who found one of our visitors handsome. I saw how often you looked at Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth felt warmth rise into her face. “I cannot deny that he is a very handsome man.”
Elizabeth reached for the ribbon Jane had put away and began winding it around her fingers. “I should like to know him better.”
Jane watched her for a moment. “Much better, I think. You speak of him with remarkable certainty after only one meeting.” She took the ribbon from Elizabeth and returned it to her workbox.
“That is saying something, Lizzy. You generally look askance at every unmarried man in the neighborhood and wonder whether he is worth your time.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “When one has grown up with an intelligent, well-spoken father, it is difficult to admire a man merely because he is handsome and unmarried. Papa has given us a rather high standard by which to judge them.”
“Then I think you might approve of Mr. Darcy. He spoke sensibly and seemed to have little inclination for idle conversation. I believe you would find that preferable to a gentleman who rattles on merely to hear himself speak.”
Elizabeth snatched the ribbon from the workbox and tossed it at her sister with a laugh. “Then we have both found something to look forward to when Netherfield opens.”
For the next several days, Netherfield supplied Meryton with something new to discuss almost every morning.
Deliveries passed through the village. More servants were engaged.
Mr. Bingley’s butler arrived to oversee the preparations, and word came through the tradesmen that the family was expected before the end of the following week.
Meanwhile, Jane and Elizabeth kept a closer watch over Lydia, making certain that one or the other of them accompanied their younger sisters whenever they went into Meryton.
Mrs. Bennet counted the days and so did Elizabeth.
* * *
As the two weeks drew to a close, Elizabeth sat at the small desk before her bedchamber window, writing to Georgiana.
She had nearly filled the page when movement below caught her attention. Lydia was crossing the lawn alone, moving quickly toward the path that led past the hermitage.
Elizabeth put down her pen.
Lydia had no reason to be going there alone.
She rose so quickly that her chair scraped against the floor as she hurried from the room. At the bottom of the stair, she nearly collided with Mary, who was carrying several sheets of music.
“Mary, put those down and come with me. Lydia is stealing away toward the hermitage, perhaps to meet an officer.”
Mary placed the music upon a table. “Perhaps to meet Mr. Wickham. I heard her going on and on about him to Kitty this morning.”
Elizabeth caught her sister's hand and hurried toward the door. “I am afraid, Mary. If she does something foolish with that man, she may bring ruin upon herself and all of us.”
They crossed the lawn as quickly as Mary's pace allowed and reached the hermitage, but there was no sign of Lydia.
“She cannot have gone far,” Elizabeth said, looking along the path.
Mary pointed beyond the trees. “There she is. She is going toward Oakham Mount.”
Elizabeth saw a flash of Lydia's gown disappearing farther up the path.
“Come, Mary.”
She began to run.
Mary followed, but Elizabeth soon left her behind. The path climbed sharply as it approached the mount, and by the time Elizabeth reached the top, Mary was still struggling up the lower slope.
Lydia was there.
So was Mr. Wickham.
He stood beneath one of the oaks, watching Lydia approach him. At the sight of Elizabeth running toward them, his expression changed.
Elizabeth went directly to Lydia and caught her firmly by the arm.
“Lizzy! What are you doing here?”
Elizabeth ignored her and faced Wickham. “Sir, I can put no good construction upon your intentions toward my sister. Lydia is but fifteen years old and may not understand the danger of meeting a man alone, but you are a grown man and know precisely what you are doing.”
Wickham's easy expression disappeared. “Miss Elizabeth, I assure you that you have misunderstood the situation.”
“I have misunderstood nothing. You arranged a clandestine meeting with a fifteen-year-old girl upon my father's estate.”
“I arranged no such thing. Miss Lydia mentioned that she sometimes comes this way, and I happened to be taking a walk.”
Lydia pulled against Elizabeth’s grip. “He knew I would be here because I told him. And what is that to you? Let me go, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth tightened her hold.
“Ow! You are hurting me.”
“Then stop struggling against me and act with propriety.”
She faced Wickham again. “You are trespassing upon my father's property, sir, for a purpose that can hardly be called honorable. Leave us at once.”
Wickham did not move.
“You may also be certain that Colonel Forster shall hear that one of his officers arranged a clandestine meeting with a fifteen-year-old girl.”
His frown deepened, and his jaw tightened.
“Miss Elizabeth, I would advise you to be very careful before making accusations that you cannot prove.”
“And I advise you to leave my father's estate immediately, Lieutenant.”
For several seconds he stared at her. Then he inclined his head and started down the opposite side of the mount.
“Wickham!” Lydia cried. “Where are you going? You are not leaving! Do not listen to Lizzy. She is only an old maid with antiquated notions.”
She struggled harder, trying to pull free.
“Let me go! How dare you interfere? Wait until I tell Mamma!”
Elizabeth slapped her.
Lydia fell silent, staring at her in astonishment.
“Be quiet. I will not stand here and allow you to bring ruin upon yourself and every one of your sisters. I do not wish to spend my days hiring myself out as a governess simply because you decided to throw yourself away upon a worthless man who has not a shilling to his name.”
“You know nothing about him!” Lydia's hand covered her cheek. “You do not want me to be happy.”
“I want you to reach your sixteenth birthday without destroying your life. We are going home.”
Elizabeth tried to lead her back to the house. Lydia planted her feet and refused to move.
Mary finally reached the top of the mount, breathing hard. She looked from Lydia's furious face to Wickham's retreating figure.
“Mr. Wickham stalked past me, looking dreadful. Did you have words?”
“We did. I told him what I thought of a grown man arranging a secret meeting with our fifteen-year-old sister.”
Mary's eyes widened before she moved to Lydia's other side and took her arm.
“Come, Lydia. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“I hate both of you!”
“You may hate us all the way home,” Elizabeth said. “But home is where you are going.”
Between them, Elizabeth and Mary led Lydia down the hill.
* * *
By the time they reached Longbourn, Lydia had ceased trying to wrench herself free, but her anger had not diminished. Tears streaked her face, and she complained bitterly of Elizabeth's cruelty all the way to the house.
Elizabeth paid no attention.
“Let us take her to Papa,” she said to Mary as they entered. “Perhaps now he will understand why I have been so afraid.”
Lydia renewed her struggles. “I will not go to Papa. I am going to Mamma. She will tell you what a hateful creature you are.”
Mary tightened her hold on Lydia's arm. “You are going to Papa.”