And of this heart, I might have been mistress. If I had only known him, the real Mr Darcy in time —
But she had not. And though his nobility extended to saving her from Mr Wickham, it was surely too much to expect that he could forgive her so far as to forget how hatefully she had thrown away his love.
Chapter 26
Elizabeth chose her time carefully. The children were at their lessons and Mr Gardiner was in his study — an ideal time to speak to her aunt in confidence. Though the drawing room was, perhaps, not an ideal place to speak privately.
“Aunt, I should very much like your advice,” she therefore began. “Could we go upstairs to speak?”
Mrs Gardiner searched her face only for a moment. “Of course, Lizzy,” she said, putting down her embroidery. “Let us go right away.” True to her niece’s confidence in her, she did not ask for any explanations until they had reached Elizabeth’s guest room and shut the door behind them. Mrs Gardiner sat on the bed, gesturing for her niece to join her.
“It is about Mr Wickham,” Elizabeth began. “Aunt, I have determined that I cannot marry him. I was mistaken in his character — quite terribly mistaken.”
Mrs Gardiner nodded grimly. “Is this, perhaps, at all related to the conversation you and Miss Darcy had yesterday?”
“It is,” Elizabeth said, “but more than that, I must not say even to you. I will say only that Miss Darcy confirmed certain allegations against Mr Wickham which I had previously heard,but had not believed. I have not the slightest doubt now of their accuracy.”
“Then certainly you must not marry him.”
“No,” Elizabeth agreed. “Nor do I feel any regret over the fact. Rather, I am certain I have had a lucky escape.”
“It is very hard not to question you, Lizzy, but I will do my best,” Mrs Gardiner said. “However, it hardly seems that you need my advice, if you have already determined that you will refuse him.”
“On that point, I certainly do not need advice,” Elizabeth said grimly. “I would like your advice on the question ofhowI am to refuse him. Aunt, I should very much like never to see him again. Is it horrible not to at least give him the courtesy of a personal refusal?”
“Lizzy,” Mrs Gardiner began thoughtfully, “am I correct in thinking that the allegations against Mr Wickham are very serious?”
“I never heard worse.”
“Then I think you must not meet with him.”
“I am relieved to hear it,” Elizabeth said, “and yet it seems terribly cruel to never respond to his proposal at all, and simply bar him from the house.”
“No, that you must not do,” her aunt agreed. “I believe you must write to him.”
Elizabeth sat up straight in her surprise. “Would that not be rather scandalous?”
Mrs Gardiner shook her head. “You shall write without signing your name, and your uncle will send it. That will do nicely, I think.”
“I must own I am relieved at the idea that I need not see him,” Elizabeth said slowly. “It is only foolishness, surely, and yet I almost feel as though he would not accept my refusal.”
Mrs Gardiner smiled. “I am afraid he will have no choice. He will simply have to brook his disappointment, as we all must do from time to time.”
“Yes, I suppose that is so,” Elizabeth agreed. “You relieve my mind greatly. Will you stay here with me, aunt, while I write it?”
“Of course,” Mrs Gardiner agreed, and with that, Elizabeth hurried to the desk and began to prepare her quill and ink.
∞∞∞
A knock came on the door of the rented room. “Post for you, Mr Wickham!”
He groaned and debated whether to reply. Both a head heavy with last night’s carousing and the knowledge that the post was hardly likely to bring anything of benefit made him decide against it. A dunning notice from one of his creditors, most likely. They had been growing increasingly shrill of late. Yet another reason to hope that the Bennet chit would not make him wait too long.
The landlady knocked and called again, but as Wickham remained silent, she finally slid the letter under the door and went away. Some faint flicker of curiosity made him rise from the bed and retrieve it from the floor. Opening the curtains with a jerk, Wickham winced at the bright light that flooded in. Tojudge by the angle of the sun, it must be nearly noon. He sank down into the sole chair the room held and examined his letter.
He grunted in surprise at the address — from Mr Gardiner of Gracechurch Street.Thatwas odd, to be sure. He would have to hope Mr Gardiner was not informing him Elizabeth was ill. If she died before he could marry her, he would have to look elsewhere for his money. Perhaps it was merely an invitation. That would be all to the good — another chance to woo his chosen mark into a quick wedding.
Tiring of his speculation, Wickham tore open the letter. Only a single page fell out, without a signature or address to identify it.
