B00CO8L910 EBOK (16 page)

Chapter 10

It had taken Elizabeth a week to summon the courage to speak with her father about the revelation she experienced with her mother. She had always been close to him, and they shared an uncommon understanding of each other. While collecting her thoughts, she again examined her feelings from that evening.

It had troubled her greatly that her mother had blamed herself for Lydia’s death. Although Elizabeth had grown to have a better understanding of her mother’s altered behavior, to be sure, she worried this change was founded on erroneous sentiments. Since that evening, however, her mother had been warmer in expression to her second daughter, and in that Elizabeth discerned some satisfaction.

“Papa, may I speak with you about something?”

Lowering his book, Mr. Bennet took off his reading glasses and smiled at her. “Of course, my dear.”

“Who is Sammy?”

The color drained from her father’s face, and his hands closed the book on his lap with exaggerated slowness. It alarmed her to see him struggle with emotion, and she feared her question had upset him but knew not why.

“Samuel Thomas Bennet.” He barely spoke above a whisper, and his voice trembled. “Your brother.”

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open and her brows furrowed in confusion.
My brother? I do not have a brother.
She did not comprehend his meaning.

Mr. Bennet had never anticipated Elizabeth’s question and was even less prepared for the onslaught of emotions and memories that overcame him. However reluctant he might be to explore the feelings such a confession would elicit, he knew he was beyond avoiding the consequence now. He explained, “After, Lydia, your mother became with child again; it was a boy, but he was born too early and did not survive. We named him Samuel Thomas; your mother called him Sammy.

“But why did we not know? Why did you not tell us?” Elizabeth asked numbly as she tried to assimilate the startling information.

Mr. Bennet rubbed his face and leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees. “It was one of the summers that you and Jane went to visit the Gardiners, and as I said, the babe was born too early in your mother’s confinement. It was hard on your mother; she asked me never to speak of it, and together we never told any of you girls she was even with child.”

Elizabeth wiped her tears with a handkerchief. She never considered what losing a second child might mean to her mother, having by no means recovered from losing Samuel.
And to think that she had carried this burden for so long!
“Oh, my poor mother,” Elizabeth whispered.

Confirming her thoughts, Mr. Bennet’s frown deepened as he said, “She has not been the same Fanny since.”

He had lost both his wife and his son that day fifteen years ago. Mr. Bennet had felt the loss of the babe keenly, not only for losing the son and heir he had wished for, but because from that day on, his wife had completely closed the doors to him, both in her heart and to his company. He blamed himself for having loved her so much that he could not stay away from her. With each pregnancy, she became more silly and nervous over the years, and he blamed himself for putting her in such a condition time and time again. It was his fault she became with child each time and his fault that, each time, he saw her decline. When she had closed her doors to him after Sammy, he accepted his lot, feeling his guilt acutely.

“She blames herself,” Elizabeth mumbled as the realization of her mother’s words settled in her mind.

Mr. Bennet looked up sharply at his daughter. “What did you say?”

Elizabeth was startled by his firm tone and repeated herself hesitantly, “Mama said to me that it was her fault that Lydia died and she referenced Sammy too.”

“Of all the pea-brained . . . Where is that woman?” Mr. Bennet stood abruptly, left the room and called out for his wife. He had to disabuse her of such a ridiculous notion! The last couple of months had only made him miss her more, and he was not about to allow Lydia’s death to be another wall between them. He finally was determined to do all he could to make her love him again.

With no little alarm, Elizabeth followed his resolute stride into the parlor where her sisters sat with their mother.

“Fanny Bennet!” her father commanded with a certain gruffness. She watched her mother stand immediately, apprehension and shock transforming her features. He had not called her Fanny in many years.

Mr. Bennet walked right up to his wife and took her face in his hands before placing an unyielding kiss on her startled lips.

Elizabeth’s hand shot to her mouth to hide her amusement at her stunned, blushing mother. All the while, her father wore a self-satisfied, toothy grin as he looked at his wife with undisguised affection, amazing everyone else in the room.

“Mr. Bennet! What is the manner of this . . . this . . . ” she sputtered and was cut off by her husband kissing her soundly once again.

“Enough woman! To your room with you; I have something about which I wish to speak to you!”

Blushing anew, Fanny Bennet complied with her husband’s order and left the room. He followed behind her up the stairs, and the parlor erupted in laughter as they watched the scene dumbfounded. None could remember the last time their father showed such blatant affection for his wife, nor when their mother had ever blushed so readily at him. When Mr. Bennet had closed her chamber door behind them, he turned to her, leaning heavily against it, and said with a changed tone full of emotion and love, “Oh, Fan! How I have missed you!”

Mrs. Bennet stood before her husband as tears filled her eyes. She could not believe what she was experiencing and was unable to manage the thickness in her throat.

“We need to talk, my love. I cannot have you thinking Sammy or Lydia’s death was your fault. Come here, wife; please do not push me away.”

She stood there a moment considering his words. Could she do it? She did not know. But she, too, had missed her husband. Hearing endearments from his lips and kissing those lips — yes, she wanted his love back. Slowly, hesitantly, she stepped forward, buried her head in his chest and gave way to her tears.

* * *

Elizabeth turned towards her sisters after her parents left and, for the first time, noticed Mr. Bingley in attendance. The bizarre moment caused her to cover her face as she continued to laugh without restraint. She lowered herself to the sofa, holding her sides, tears coming to her eyes. Jane sat next to her, chuckling, while Kitty and Mary turned to each other in their own astonishment and giggles.

“Who were those people, Lizzy?” Jane asked in good humor.

“I know them not!” The girls gave way to their hilarity.

Mr. Bingley sat uncomfortably on the sofa amongst the young women trying to fathom what had just occurred. A smile came to his face when he rested his eyes upon Jane. She was so beautiful when she laughed. He was sure she loved him, and his impetuosity was rankled that he must wait at least one more month to ask for her hand.
One more month
, he thought. He imagined kissing Jane soundly, not unlike the way her parents had done minutes before. He was pulled from his sanguine thoughts when the parlor door opened and Jane’s Aunt Phillips entered.

“Oh, girls, where is your mother! I must speak to her.”

Kitty snickered while the older girls tried to regain some composure. It was Elizabeth who managed to squeak, “I am sorry, Aunt; she is unavailable at the moment.” And the room was in an uproar once more.

“Unavailable! Nonsense, I must speak to her this instant. I have heard the most troubling news! Kitty, go and fetch your mother right away.”

Sobering, Kitty stood obediently, but Jane shook her head. “I am sorry, Aunt, but my mother is otherwise occupied speaking with our father at the moment. Can we not be of service to you?”

The lady sighed dramatically and slumped herself on the settee next to Jane. “Oh, Jane dear, how you have grown. It will be a pleasure to see you happily married one of these days.” Jane colored in embarrassment when her aunt looked poignantly towards Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth was amazed at her vulgarity and realized how quickly she had become accustomed to her mother’s new deportment in the past two months. It seemed an age since her mother displayed such brash manners. She felt for her sister, though, and for Mr. Bingley, who was obviously ill at ease.

Diverting her aunt’s attention, Elizabeth inquired, “You said you had news, Aunt?”

With great exaggeration she announced, “I have just had word from our dear sweet, Mrs. Forster, the kind colonel’s wife. She writes from Brighton that our Mr. Wickham, a great favorite to us all, who was on leave you know since after your sister’s fall — God bless her soul — has not returned to the regiment!”

Elizabeth, annoyed by her aunt’s rambling speech, summarized. “So Mr. Wickham did not return to the regiment. I cannot see what this means to us, Aunt.”

“Oh lud, child! He did not leave the regiment as in give up his commission. He has abandoned it!”

“Well I suppose that is a bit more shocking, but I suppose he wished to remain with his family. His sister, I have heard, was to be married,” Elizabeth offered.

“Mr. Wickham does not have a sister,” Bingley heard himself say before he could stop the words.

Everyone turned to him with surprise. Elizabeth found her voice first. “How do you know that, Mr. Bingley?” She was sure she knew his source even before he confirmed it.

“Mr. Darcy told me; as you know, they grew up together.” Bingley looked nervously around the room at the ladies.

“Oh heavens, I shall go distracted, for it only confirms my other news,” their aunt screeched. “I have just heard from Mrs. Long that there are rumors all over Meryton that Wickham has left debts with every tradesmen and merchant in the town! And that is not all, my dears; he has debts of honor too! A gambler of the worst kind in the bosom of our homes!”

There was silence in the room before Elizabeth hissed, “Then he left to avoid his debts. And abandoned my sister . . . ” Reaching these conclusions, a tempest brewed within Elizabeth. “And failed to pay his respects by coming to the funeral or to address this family!”

Jane placed a calming hand on her sister’s leg. “Lizzy, who can say why he left. Perhaps he had some pressing business of which we are unaware. I cannot think he would have left our family, especially after such a tragic accident, if he did not have a good reason. I am sure if he could explain, we all would see this in a different light.”

Elizabeth’s teeth were clenched, and she could not agree with such blind optimism. “No, Jane, I have to agree with Aunt Phillips this time. He is a degenerate and heartless spendthrift at best. Even if he had business elsewhere that could not be delayed, why could he not have written? No, I shall go on believing as I have concluded.”

Why had I not realized his abandonment before?
she wondered, and then she knew her answer. Ever since she had come to respect Mr. Darcy, she had avoided allowing herself to think of Mr. Wickham since it only made her thoughts uneasy regarding the true nature of their history together. Either Darcy was not the man she had begun to believe he was or she was seriously mistaken in her assessment of Wickham. Neither option was appealing to her, so she had soundly refused to think on it.

She was pulled from her unhappy thoughts by her aunt’s continuing gossip. “Forget Mr. Wickham; he is nothing to us now, although I must say that I never liked the man. I do have another piece of news I have just learned, so put that man out of your heads and prepare yourself for something very shocking indeed.” She lowered her voice to emphasize the lurid nature of what she was about to relate. “A girl from the Meryton Inn — a serving girl they say — is missing!”

“Missing?” Jane’s voice raised in concern.

“Missing!” her aunt repeated dramatically. “She told her friends that she was off to Gretna Green to marry a gentleman but has not been heard from since.”

Elizabeth nearly laughed at her aunt’s theatrics, effectively pulling herself out of ill humor. “Well that is not so shocking, Aunt. She is likely still with her husband, and they have not returned. What makes you think that she is missing?”

“Well they say that she left a note to her sister, who also works at the inn. She said she would write in a week’s time after they arrived in Scotland. That was almost two months ago, and nobody has heard from her.”

Elizabeth admitted that would certainly be troubling to the girl’s sister but dismissed the rest of the story without further thought. She was grateful for the arrival of the post with a letter from Georgiana that allowed her to excuse herself to read her mail for the remainder of her aunt’s visit. Jane also excused herself to see Mr. Bingley out, as he seemed to welcome any excuse to escape the confines of the parlor as well.

* * *

After saying goodbye to Mr. Bingley, Jane found her sister in their room with her letter, her face emitting a nervous excitement as she read through the missive.

“What does Miss Darcy have to say that has you biting your lip, Lizzy?” Jane laughed at her sister’s flushed countenance.

Elizabeth folded the letter and tried to affect an air of indifference. “Miss Darcy has written that she and her brother would like to invite the Gardiners and me to stay at Pemberley for the few days we are to be in Lambton.”