Consequences (7 page)

After Elizabeth ran after her aunt and uncle and apprised them of the contents of the letter, they hurriedly packed and set out for Longbourn. The conversation during the journey was not happy and was only directed at the single subject that most possessed their minds.

“I have been thinking on this, Elizabeth,” said her uncle, after some moments of consideration, “and I have to wonder whether the situation is as ominous as you think. When Jane wrote her first letter, she certainly believed Lydia and Wickham would be married, even though she admitted the match would be imprudent due to Wickham’s lack of fortune. I am now more inclined to believe that might indeed be the truth here. Why should Wickham form such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected? She was actually staying with his colonel’s family, after all.”

“But do you not remember what she said in her second letter, Uncle?” responded Elizabeth in distress. “He said Captain Denny let slip the information that Wickham never intended to marry Lydia at all and was not taking her to Gretna Green.”

“That is true, but why should Wickham do such a thing? Would he not expect Lydia’s friends to step forward on her behalf? And how could he expect to be noticed by his fellow officers after such an affront to Colonel Forster? An elopement would be regarded as imprudent and impulsive, but to ruin the reputation of Lydia would be fatal to his consideration in the regiment. No, I am now inclined to the belief that such a temptation would not be adequate to the risk.”

“Perhaps you are right,” said Elizabeth doubtfully. She wished she could be cheered by this opinion from a relative whom she admired, but her memory of Darcy’s letter and of his accusations were in the forefront of her thoughts.

“I do believe he is,” agreed Mrs. Gardiner. “It would really be a dramatic violation of decency, honour, and interest for Wickham to be guilty of what Colonel Forster suggests. I have difficulty believing he could be so lost to all propriety. Do you think so very ill of him to believe him capable of it?”

“I am sure Wickham will protect his own interests at all times,” said Elizabeth with a frown. “But I could believe him capable of every other neglect, much though I wish otherwise. I dare not hope differently. Why should Wickham and Lydia not have gone to Scotland if that had been the case?”

“Well, firstly, Lizzy, we do not know for certain they have not done so. There is no absolute proof, you know.”

“I do not believe they would have removed from the chaise to a hackney coach if they intended such a long journey. And Colonel Forster could find no information of the couple on the Barnet road.”

“And secondly, I have to ask about the sudden change in your opinion of Wickham. Have you information you have not shared?”

Much though Elizabeth wished this question had not been asked, she could not lie to her aunt and uncle now the subject was raised. Nor could she betray the secrecy to which Mr. Darcy’s letter had pledged her, so she said uncomfortably, “I do have certain private information leading me to my opinion, but I cannot speak about it, and I beg you to accept what I have already said without questioning me further.”

Mrs. Gardiner unwillingly accepted this assurance, though she was certain in her own mind there was more to her niece’s acquaintance with Mr. Darcy than she had heretofore revealed. Accordingly, she contented herself by saying, “Well, let us suppose they are in London. It could very well be that the reason is nothing more than it would be more economical to be married in London than in Scotland. The trip there and back would be quite expensive, after all.”

“Then why all this secrecy?” Elizabeth cried. “Why should they fear detection if such was their only reason? No, I do not believe that is likely, attractive as the thought might be. Remember Jane’s letter said Wickham’s particular friend, Captain Denny, believed he intended neither to go to Gretna Green nor to marry Lydia at all. Wickham must marry a woman with at least a modest fortune, as shown by his engagement to Miss King, and Lydia certainly has no fortune to tempt him. In fact, what does she have to offer beyond youth, health, and good humour? Are these traits enough to induce Wickham to forgo his chance to better himself by marrying well? No, it will not do, Aunt. I wish I could agree with the two of you, but I cannot.”

Both Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were disquieted by this energetic objection from their niece, and, after a few moments thought, her uncle said, “And the regiment, Lizzy? Do you also have reason to discount what I said in that regard?”

Elizabeth shrugged, uncomfortable at again being reminded she had secrets she could not share. “My knowledge is little different than yours, save only being acquainted with a number of the officers. I am not able to judge to what degree Wickham might harbour apprehensions about being disgraced in the sight of his corps by such a dishonourable elopement. And you made one other objection, about Lydia’s friends stepping forward on her behalf, which also does not convince. Lydia has no brothers to rally to her defence, and I truly doubt he would be worried about the reaction of my father. Wickham had occasion to witness my father’s indolence and the scant attention he pays to others and to his family. Why should he not believe my father would do as little about this matter as he did in others?”

Elizabeth was troubled by this admission, for she truly loved her father, but the situation was too significant to allow any self-deceit. All three travellers sat in silence for some minutes until her aunt gave a great sigh.

“We have never been as fond of Lydia as of you and Jane, but it is still distressing to consider she might be so lost to everything except love of Wickham as to consent to live with him without the sanctity of marriage. What do you think, Lizzy? Am I being too harsh?”

With tears in her eyes, Elizabeth gave a sigh of her own before answering unhappily, “The same thought has been disturbing me also, Aunt. It is shocking to even consider doubting a sister’s sense of decency and virtue in such a point. But I am left unable to say anything to dispel such doubts. Perhaps I am being unfair, but she is very young, despite being allowed out in society. We girls did not have a governess or a tutor, you know, and Lydia has never learned to think on serious subjects. For quite some time—in fact, for a full twelvemonth—she has disposed of her time in an idle and frivolous manner. Her opinions have been fleeting and unserious, and it has been worse since the regiment has been quartered in Meryton.”

“True, true,” grumbled Mr. Gardiner in uncomfortable agreement.

“She has been obsessed with love, flirtation, and officers, and nothing Jane and I could say would dissuade her. Perhaps if my mother had been firm . . .”

Her aunt and uncle nodded unhappily, and Mr. Gardiner was especially dejected, since Mrs. Bennet was his own sister.

“In any case,” Elizabeth resumed, “she has actually done everything in her power to heighten her susceptibility to romantic feelings, which are naturally lively enough, given her youth. And I can give testimony to Wickham’s charm and amiability in a manner that might captivate any woman.”

This thought led Elizabeth to further thoughts on her growing suspicion of Wickham’s motivations, though she did not speak of it to her relations.
What if marriage was never Wickham’s intention? Likely enough, he had to flee the regiment because he had run up debts similar to those Mr. Darcy alluded to in his letter. If it is so, that leads to the more ominous possibility: he took Lydia along for a mere idle dalliance, probably in London, based on Jane’s letter. Once safely hidden in one of the many dark byways of the capital, it is all too possible he will eventually simply abandon her. What might befall a young woman so summarily left alone and helpless, possibly in the more squalid areas of town? That does not bear imagining!

“But Jane does not think so ill of Wickham as to believe him capable of such infamous motives,” her aunt said, interrupting Elizabeth’s thoughts.

“Of whom does Jane ever think ill?” Elizabeth smiled fondly. “She would never believe Wickham capable of such an attempt unless it was absolutely proved against him. But Jane and I both know what Wickham really is, that he has been profligate in every sense of the word and is a stranger to the concepts of honour and integrity. His conduct toward Miss King as well as his attentions toward me, when he clearly was insincere due to his want of fortune, shows his false, deceitful, and insinuating nature.”

Again, her aunt had to stifle her question regarding what other information Elizabeth might harbour, and her niece coloured as she clearly discerned what her aunt longed to ask of her.

“I can only say this, Aunt,” said Elizabeth at length. “Wickham’s lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. His description of Miss Darcy bore no resemblance to the girl Mrs. Reynolds described. And I am sure you remember her expression when she described him as having been raised at the expense of her late master but not having turned out well. She said he had actually turned out wild—much like someone who would elope with a young friend of his colonel’s wife, in fact.”

“But does not Lydia know of this?” asked Mr. Gardiner. “You say you and Jane are acquainted with the particulars, but is Lydia ignorant of what you seem to know so well?”

“I am afraid so, Uncle. That is why I am castigating myself. Till I was in Kent and saw so much of both Mr. Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was ignorant of the truth myself.”

“I see.” The glance her uncle shared with his wife showed he desired to delve deeper for the source of his niece’s information, even as she did.

“I shared my information with Jane when I returned home,” continued Elizabeth hastily, squirming internally under the steady gaze of her aunt and uncle. “We considered sharing our information with the rest of the neighbourhood, including our sisters, but we decided such an effort was not warranted since the regiment was due to leave the county in a week. And even after Mrs. Forster tendered her invitation to Lydia, the necessity of opening her eyes to Wickham’s character never occurred to me. I never considered she might be in any danger from his deceitful nature.”

Though I have more than enough reason to lament the decision now,
she added to herself.

“Then, when Lydia departed with Mrs. Forster, you had no reason to think her and Wickham fond of each other?” asked Mrs. Gardiner.

“None whatsoever. I cannot remember any evidence of affection on either side except when he first entered the corps. She was ready enough to admire him then, but so were we all. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for the first two months, but he never marked Lydia by any particular attention. It was not long before others of the regiment, who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.”

In the midst of her despair about Lydia and her whole family during the long journey back to Longbourn, Elizabeth could not abstain from returning to a most unwelcome thought: What would Mr. Darcy have done had she not refused his proposal of marriage? If they were not married by now, would he have broken the engagement? Or would this dreadful circumstance even come to pass? She thought not since even her father would not have allowed Lydia to go to Brighton with his next eldest daughter planning marriage.

In this mode, the conversation continued, for no novelty of the journey could draw their minds from their fears, hopes, and conjectures on this worrying subject. They repeated themselves and covered the same topics again and again during the whole of the journey, and even in moments of relative quiet, it was never absent from Elizabeth’s thoughts.

How Mr. Darcy would triumph if he knew of our shame and disgrace!
she thought miserably.
How gratified he would be at having fortunately escaped a connection to such a wretched family!

Afflicted by the keenest of all anguish, self-reproach, she could find no ease or relief from the turmoil of her thoughts. It was fortunate for her that the darkness inside the carriage and the noise from the wheels concealed her muffled sobs and tears, for she was in no condition to disguise the miserable gloom that seized her spirits.

***

Saturday, August 8, 1812

After sleeping one night on the road, the Gardiner coach arrived at Longbourn by dinnertime the next day. There the travellers found the little Gardiners waiting for them on the steps of the house, delighted to see their parents again and clearly ignorant of the events that troubled everyone else. Elizabeth was eager to seek Jane, but she tarried long enough to give each child a hasty kiss before hurrying through the front door, where Jane was just coming down the stairs to meet her.

“Has anything been heard of Lydia and Wickham?” Elizabeth asked immediately as she embraced her dear sister, but Jane could give her no pleasing answer. Her father had, according to her report, travelled to town as her letter stated. He promised to write, but his only note was a paltry few lines simply informing her of his arrival and stating he would not write again until he had something of importance to relate. No further news followed, and Elizabeth shook her head in unhappy comprehension that the silence indicated a complete lack of success in his efforts.

“And my mother—how is she?”

“She is tolerably well, though her spirits are greatly shaken. She is upstairs and will have great satisfaction in seeing you all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room.”

“And my sisters? How are they?”