“Bingley, Miss Bennet. Yes, let us,” Mr. Darcy said extending his arm to her. “Miss Elizabeth was a little warm, so we decided to get some air.”
They walked back inside the house as Elizabeth fought down several different emotions, the last of which was resignation.
“Yes, the ball is quite a success.” Upon entering the dining room, Mr. Bingley scanned the crowd. “Lady Matlock informed me Caroline had taken ill and left, but I want to speak with Bertram Knight before the evening closes.”
“Bertram?”
Mr. Bingley nodded while escorting Jane to a seat. “His sister said he wished to speak to me.” He leaned back and lowered his voice before responding to Mr. Darcy, “I can only hope this means Caroline will soon be off my hands.”
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat.
“That is what is so curious,” Mr. Bingley replied to the unasked question as he pulled out the chair for Jane. “Caroline seems besotted with him. Besides, Bertram is a grown man. If he is not interested in Caroline, he can say so himself.”
Mr. Darcy remained silent as he gestured to a chair for Lizzy. She cocked her head at him, curious how he could ever explain to his friend what had occurred in the library. She sighed.And even more so, how to explain to myself what occurred on the veranda.
Chapter 17
The muted soundof the rain tapping against the windows on a wet November day was all but lost to both Lizzy and Jane Bennet of Longbourn. They were reclining lazily on the deep, blue cushions of their aunt’s very comfortable furnishings in the sitting room on Gracechurch Street. With a trousseau to purchase for one and the possibility of a trousseau for the other, letters were exchanged with rapid pace between the young ladies and the mistress of Longbourn.
Thus, they were engaged in this ordinary manner when a sharp rap was heard at the front door. Neither expected visitors—Mr. Bingley was in meetings, Mr. Hamilton still remained at Ashby Park, and Kitty and Georgiana were to arrive later from Darcy House. Lizzy tucked a novel and her mother’s missives aside. The door to the sitting room opened and Mrs. Gardiner’s housekeeper entered with a message in her hand.
“If you please, Miss Bennet. This came express.”
Lizzy stepped forward to take it, handing the woman coins for the rider. “Thank you, Mrs. Williams.”
The housekeeper closed the door as Lizzy tore open the letter. A second note fluttered to the floor and Jane bent to retrieve it. Lizzy read the first line and gasped. “It is from Mama. She says we are ruined!”
“Is it Father?” Tears pooled in Jane’s eyes as she collapsed on the couch. “Is he unwell?”
She shook her head. “I am uncertain.” Lizzy read aloud.
“My dear girls,
We are ruined! There is nothing we can do but pray Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hamilton will take pity on us and continue forward with the weddings. If they will not, we will be tossed in the hedgerows by that odious vicar and Charlotte Lucas. What will become of you all? If Lydia had not...”
Lizzy paused. The next lines were smudged.
“Lizzy, what does it say?”
“I cannot make out the rest! What does that note say? Anything at all? All we know is that something has occurred with Lydia!”
Jane unfolded the second note. “It is from Mary. Things are not as dire as our mother paints them, but my father, mother, and sisters will arrive tomorrow in London to stay with my aunt and uncle. Mother wished to come shop for my trousseau and Father relented.”
Lizzy sat next to Jane and read over her shoulder:
Sisters,
I do not have much time to write before Mama sends her letter express. We will all arrive on the morrow, so please inform my aunt and uncle. Late this afternoon, I decided to walk out into the garden to feel the strength of God in nature when I was immediately stopped by a noise—to be truthful, there were people arguing in the copse behind the hermitage. As I approached, I determined the voices were Lydia and an officer I could not name. I was about to make my presence known when their words arrested my movement. Lydia was angry and accused the man (who I had then recognized as Mr. Wickham) of lying to her. She had learned he was to marry Mary King. She said she had expected to elope to Gretna Green with Mr. Wickham herself! I will not dignify his response, only suffice to say, the blood from his nose after Lydia hit him blended well with his regimentals.
Luckily, no one outside of myself, Lydia, Mr. Wickham, our parents, and Hill know the particulars. I am certain Mr. Wickham will not acknowledge he was bested by a young woman who blessedly refused to forsake her virtue for a cad such as him.
Mother is in quite a state and blames Lydia. Not for what you would assume, but something else entirely, which I do not have time to divulge. I am quite disappointed with her maternal sensibilities and only hope her heart will be touched to see the error of her ways.
Father had granted Mother leave to come to London to help Jane shop for wedding clothes and has now determined we will all go to remove ourselves from the militia for a time.
I must close as I hear the rider outside but shall see you on the morrow.
God Bless,
