Everyone cried out in alarm, and too many hands grabbed for the letter. Jane, ever the peacemaker, took the letter from her mother and reviewed for the others what Colonel Forster had written.
“They were off Thursday night about twelve, he conjectures, but were not missed till this morning at eight. He will come himself tomorrow to speak to us further. Lydia left a few lines for Mrs Forster informing her of their intention to go to Gretna Green to be married.”
“Such an imprudent match on both sides,” said Mary.
“Yes, for he must know that I can give her nothing.” Mr Bennet tipped over the dice cup as he spoke without looking at any of them.
“This is so unexpected,” said Jane to Bingley, who sat beside her, shaking his head.
“Well, it is not so wholly unexpected to me!” Kitty cried, taking pleasure in her triumph for knowing more than the rest of them. “I was the only one who knew of their being in love with each other, and for many weeks. Her last letter prepared me for such a step.”
When Mrs Bennet wailed again, Bingley suggested they retire for the night and be ready to hear from Colonel Forster the next day. Mr Bennet went to bed without a word to anyone, and Mary and Kitty reluctantly attended to their teary-eyed mother. Bingley, before excusing himself, guaranteed his silence and cautioned them to be silent before the servants in the hopes that they could report the marriage as an accomplished fact and the word “elopement” need not cross anyone’s lips. Soon Elizabeth and Jane were alone, stunned and sadly grieved.
“I am willing to hope for the best, Lizzy. Perhaps his character has been misunderstood.”
“How can you say that?” she cried. “You are far too good if you believe that of Mr Wickham. After all we know of him from Darcy’s accounts, how can you doubt that he is a philanderer, a gamester, and a liar?”
“It does not matter, if he is married to our sister. But how Lydia could ever have attracted him appears incomprehensible. I never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire, that Lydia had any partiality for him.”
Elizabeth remembered Wickham’s demeanour toward her youngest sister when they last parted and how he had taken notice of Lydia’s unrestrained flirting with his fellow officers. “Mr Wickham was angry with me for discovering his true character and favouring Darcy. I am surprised he would place himself in a position where he might be worked upon to marry my sister, although I doubt that is his intent.”
Jane’s eyes went wide. “But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love of him as to consent to live with him on any other terms than marriage?”
How she hated to see her sister think the best of a man like George Wickham. There was never a man more undeserving of her generous heart. “What I do know is that Mr Wickham is profligate in every sense of the word. That he has neither integrity nor honour. That he is as deceitful as he is insinuating.”
“I believe they will yet marry and then we must forget all that we know of him, for he will be our brother.”
Rather than lash out at Jane, who could never stand to think unkindly of anyone, Elizabeth left for bed, and it was not until her head hit the pillow that she realised with horror what she must relay to Fitzwilliam when he returned to Netherfield tomorrow.
Saturday evening foundDarcy in his carriage, feeling the journey into Hertfordshire to be a lengthy one, and he was weary enough before the close of it. He was tired, and he felt he was being slowly dragged and cruelly shaken over the rough roads. His journey left him in a foul mood, and the one thing that would bring him comfort was to see Elizabeth.
Bingley was nowhere to be found when he arrived at Netherfield, but that did not surprise him, for he knew Bingley spent every moment at Longbourn. While waiting for his host, Darcy sorted his stack of correspondence, stopping only to read the expected disapproving reply from Lady Catherine regarding his letter announcing his engagement. The language of it was so abusive toward Elizabeth that it was not fit to be repeated. He tore it to pieces, promising himself to cut ties with her until her ladyship apologised, and returned to the others, nothing critical catching his eye until he reached the last letter. It was first sent to his house in town and was then forwarded to Netherfield before he arrived back in London. He immediately recognised the handwriting, and his stomach lurched. His first instinct was to set it afire as if, by burning the paper, he could burn away the existence of the man who wrote. Inquisitiveness won out over wrath, however, and Darcy broke the seal.
Brighton, East Sussex
25 June 1812
Dear Sir,
The disagreement subsisting between us cannot be refuted, but you must pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention. You have thrown me off and have left me with no other dependence in this world. I hold you responsible for my ruined prospects. That you disagree with this assessment I cannot deny, but know this: I shall take from you what is owed to me.
I have it on good authority, as well as from my own observations of the lady, that you are enamoured of Elizabeth Bennet. I have the highest opinion of your taste. I might have been successful had she not believed your version of our history upon her return from Kent. Your attachment to her must have induced you to unfold it, and knowing all I do of your character, I suspect you will make her an offer of marriage.
Her sister Lydia, who followed us to Brighton, eagerly gave herself over to me. I depart the militia Thursday for London as my debts have moved beyond my ability to repay, and it will be the work of a moment to induce her to come with me. I have no intention of marrying the foolish girl, but she would think it a great adventure to go to town and then to Scotland to marry. However, if you compensate me for the funds I ought to have had by marrying your sister, I shall make the journey to town alone. Otherwise, I make no guarantee as to the condition of Lydia Bennet and her reputation when I leave her in London.
I know your damnable sense of integrity will protect Elizabeth’s credit and feelings, and therefore I expect you to write to me indicating your compliance.
G. Wickham
Darcy was fixed in astonishment, feeling ill to his stomach and dizzy with shock. This was a letter of which every line was an insult, and it proclaimed its writer to be deep in hardened villainy. No honourable man would allow himself to be extorted even if he had the thirty thousand pounds to pay off Wickham.
He cursed the mischance that prevented him from receiving this letter the day after it was sent. He would have gone straight to Brighton and brought Lydia home himself had he read this in time. The sunlight was fading fast into the horizon as Darcy left for Longbourn, his fatigue replaced by heightened anxiety as he rode as fast as he could to Elizabeth.
ChapterSixteen
Darcy rode into the paddock, jumped from his horse, carelessly tossed the reins toward the servant, and strode into the house. He had to know whether Lydia had eloped. It was likely Wickham had already fled his regiment, but perhaps Lydia had not been convinced to leave with him.It is my own fault that Wickham’s worthlessness was not known here as to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love him.He was too gentlemanly to question aloud whether Lydia Bennet was such a woman, but she was to be his sister, and it was his duty to step forward.
He approached the drawing room door and saw the curious glances of Hill and the footman. Something was amiss, and the servants were aware of it. Whatever unhappy truth he was to learn, he did not know how long it could be concealed. He was about to enter when Bingley came from the room and nearly collided with him.
