Consequences (5 page)

No wonder he hesitated to inform the local families of Mr. Wickham’s many failings. He must have feared that doing so would necessitate giving a substantive example of Wickham’s conduct, and anyone would wish to keep such information about a sister private rather than sharing it with all and sundry.
I have been foolish, foolish, foolish!

This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together, and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood he has imposed on you, but his success is not perhaps to be wondered at, ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either. Detection could not be in your power and suspicion certainly not in your inclination.

You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last night, but I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy and still more as one of the executors of my father’s will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin, and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.

Fitzwilliam Darcy.

All manner of unpleasant recollections ran through her mind as she gathered the pages of the letter together and refolded them. She remembered especially the way in which she accepted Mr. Wickham’s tale about being betrayed by the son of his benefactor. She never even considered demanding proofs of such malfeasance; even worse, she did not recognize the impropriety associated with anyone spinning such a story within a half-hour of being introduced.

The disparity in how she acted toward both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham inspired the most intense mortification—she could not think of either without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd. And, while Mr. Darcy’s explanation restored her former, good opinion of Mr. Bingley, it also heightened the sense of what Jane lost. Instead of achieving a situation so desirable in every respect and so promising for her future happiness, she had been deprived by the folly and indecorum of her own family as much as by the actions of Mr. Darcy.

This latter thought made even the foolishness of her own past behaviour appear less significant, for the unhappy defects of her family were hopeless of remedy. Her father was content to laugh at the silliness of his youngest daughters, and he would not exert himself to curb their giddiness or their wild behaviour; her mother, with manners far from proper, was completely insensible to the evils of indulging the embarrassing conduct of Kitty and Lydia. Mr. Darcy’s letter, with its compliment to Jane and herself as being exempt from his charge of impropriety, only partly soothed her humiliation; it could not console her for the contempt so deservedly attached to the rest of her family. When she reflected on how materially the credit of Jane and herself must be hurt by such unseemly comportment, she felt depressed beyond anything she had known before.

Her feelings toward the writer of the letter were vastly different as she contemplated the various parts of the letter. His manner of address and lack of remorse toward his attempt to separate Jane and Mr. Bingley fuelled her indignation, but her memory of the manner in which she condemned and upbraided him, especially in the matter of Mr. Wickham, was such as to turn her anger toward herself. But even if she acquitted Mr. Darcy of some transgressions, it did not change her feelings toward him, and she did not for a moment repent her refusal or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again.

At least she would be leaving the place in exactly one week. While she enjoyed the company of Charlotte and was amused by the absurdities of Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine, there were painful memories she would be most happy to put behind her. In addition, there was the lure of regaining the solace of her beloved Jane, so much so she could not wait for the week to end.

Chapter 2

“There is not any present moment that is
unconnected with some future one. The life of
every man is a continued chain of incidents,
each link of which hangs upon the former.”

—Joseph Addison

The following morning, Mr. Darcy and his cousin departed from Rosings, and Elizabeth was relieved to journey to London along with Maria Lucas a week later. She was received warmly by Jane as well as her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, and all the girls enjoyed several days of activities planned by her aunt before continuing on to Longbourn. She had not felt comfortable relating what had transpired between her and Mr. Darcy until they returned home, and Jane was astonished to learn of his offer of marriage. She was not, however, unduly incredulous, for her love of her sister was so marked that she felt an attachment on the part of such a significant suitor was only Elizabeth’s due. The sympathy Jane expressed for Mr. Darcy’s disappointment only amused her sister.

For her part, Elizabeth withheld those elements of the story relating to Mr. Bingley in order to avoid inflicting more pain to Jane’s still tender feelings. However, in relating Mr. Wickham’s misdeeds toward the Darcy family, Elizabeth truly stunned Jane, who would have willingly avoided learning that such ill behaviour was possible for any man.

Elizabeth was rather relieved to learn that the regiment, of which Mr. Wickham was an officer, would soon depart their winter quarters at Meryton and remove to Brighton. For that reason and because of what Mr. Darcy related in confidence, she and Jane decided not to share Wickham’s wickedness with the rest of the neighbourhood. Elizabeth’s displeasure was profound upon learning how Lydia and Kitty had importuned Mr. Bennet to take the whole family and follow the regiment to Brighton, and her relief at her father’s steadfast refusal was more so.

Her respite was short-lived, however, as her youngest sister, Lydia, received an invitation from her friend Mrs. Forster, the young wife of the commander of the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton when the regiment departed. Worse, her father agreed to allow Lydia to go and would not change his mind when Elizabeth recalled to his attention Lydia’s immaturity and improper behaviour. Mr. Bennet listened to her arguments with amusement rather than earnest gravity, being more concerned with having peace in the household and avoiding Lydia’s inevitable whines and complaints were he to refuse his permission.

“At Brighton she will be of less importance even as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being there may teach her of her own insignificance.” With misgivings, Elizabeth was forced to bid her sister farewell, even as she felt relief at seeing Mr. Wickham leave forever.

After the regiment and Lydia departed, Elizabeth was left to look forward to the trip her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner planned for June and to which she was invited. Because of the continued complaints of her mother and Kitty, it was not surprising that Elizabeth grew exceedingly restless to be on her way. Her anticipation lessened slightly when her aunt wrote that her husband’s business prevented them from setting out till later in July and would not allow a tour of the Lakes as originally planned but shortened to an excursion to Derbyshire. Anxious at first as she knew Mr. Darcy hailed from the great estate of Pemberley in that county, Elizabeth settled her nerves by reasoning the county large enough to make unlikely any meeting between the two of them.

***

Tuesday, August 4, 1812

Elizabeth tried to quell her uneasiness as she stared out the window of the carriage, watching for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods. When her Aunt Gardiner suggested visiting Pemberley the previous day, Elizabeth had been alarmed at the thought of again confronting Mr. Darcy. It was only after making enquiries of the chambermaid at their inn that her fears subsided since the maid informed her the Darcy family was not in residence. Still she worried the servant had been mistaken, and she could not, simply could not, abide the thought of meeting the owner of the estate.

When the carriage turned in at the lodge, she was not able to maintain a conversation with her aunt and uncle due to her apprehension. As they journeyed through the woods and drew near the house, she was distracted from her qualms, for she could not find any sights or points of view that did not excite her admiration. The woods were beautiful and stretched over a wide extent, Pemberley House was large and handsome, and the stream in front was pleasing and showed no sign of artificial design. Delighted by the natural beauty of everything she saw, Elizabeth could not dismiss the thought that being mistress of such a place might be something, and she struggled to maintain her composure as the carriage approached the imposing dwelling.

Her trepidation returned when they applied to see the house, but the respectable and civil appearance of Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, soothed her more than a little, for she had expected a more imposing personage. Elizabeth followed behind her aunt and uncle as Mrs. Reynolds led them through the public rooms of the house. As she looked through the windows, she found every view and disposition of the ground to be much to her liking, and the handsome, lofty rooms did nothing to lower her admiration. Everything—furniture, rooms, and grounds—paid tribute to the taste of the owner, showing more grace and real elegance than she would have expected.

It would have been impossible to restrain the tempting thought that it was only her rejection of Mr. Darcy’s offer that prevented her from being mistress of the house at that very moment. She might well be conducting her aunt and uncle about the place, showing them through the house where she lived instead of viewing the rooms as a stranger. She had a sudden daydream of the event, welcoming them as visitors and sharing the delights of this house with which she had become so familiar in the past months.

But the daydream was shattered by her memory of Mr. Darcy’s haughty and prideful behaviour, as she imagined him forbidding such a visit by her relatives since her uncle was, after all, only involved in trade and resided in Cheapside.

No, that could never be,
she thought.
My uncle and aunt would have been lost to me; I should not have been allowed to invite them. I regret nothing.

She was pleased to be able to dismiss this seductive daydream, but she still desired to have the assurance of the chambermaid about Mr. Darcy’s absence confirmed. She could not summon the courage to ask the question herself, so she was relieved when her uncle asked idly, “Is the master of the house absent then?”

Elizabeth was alarmed at hearing the words actually spoken and turned away, lest her expression reveal her concern.

“Mr. Darcy is not in residence at the moment,” Mrs. Reynolds replied, “but we expect him tomorrow along with his sister and a large party of friends.”

Soothing relief surged through Elizabeth at these words, and she took a moment to take control of her expression before she turned back to her relatives.

So near!
she thought in relief.
A single day! How disastrous it would be if our journey had taken just one more day! My own mortification would be beyond belief! And it does not bear consideration of how Mr. Darcy would react to meeting me again!

The relief of her spirits was short-lived, however, for her aunt called her over to look at a miniature of Mr. Wickham over the mantelpiece. It was suspended among several other miniatures, one of which was Mr. Darcy.

“How do you like it, Lizzy?” asked Mrs. Gardiner with a smile, gesturing to the small painting of her former admirer.

Before Elizabeth could answer, Mrs. Reynolds came forward and said, “That is a picture of a young gentleman who was a favourite of my late master. The gentleman was the son of old Mr. Darcy’s steward, who brought him up at his own expense and arranged for his schooling.”

She sniffed in disdain as she continued, “The young gentleman is now gone into the army, but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled at Elizabeth, but her niece looked away, unable to give any answer for fear she would reveal how much she agreed with the opinion of the housekeeper. She was rescued from any further conversation concerning Mr. Wickham by the housekeeper, who leaned forward and pointed to another of the miniatures.

“This is my present master, and it is very like him. It was done at the same time as the other—about eight years ago.”

Mrs. Reynolds’ respect for Elizabeth appeared to increase when she learned Elizabeth knew Mr. Darcy “a little.”

“And do you not think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?” Mrs. Reynolds asked with a motherly smile.

“Yes, very handsome,” Elizabeth answered, believing she managed her reply with a composure that was at odds with her inner turmoil.

Elizabeth’s response appeared to unlock a flood of conversation from Mrs. Reynolds concerning her master. Aided by her uncle’s questions and remarks, the older woman responded freely, showing every evidence of taking great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister, affirming her to be the handsomest young lady who ever was and who played and sang all day long. With a sense of incredulous surprise, Elizabeth heard Mrs. Reynolds continue, describing her master as the best landlord and the best master who ever lived, that she hoped he might marry but she did not know who would be good enough for him, that she never had a cross word from him since he was four years old, and he had been the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the world.