“Your bickering is senseless,” a weepy voice interrupted them, and their gazes turned back to Jane. Darcy exhaled sharply and raked his hand through his hair as he rose and stepped away. Until now, his life had been well-ordered, predictable, and steady, and never had he been forced to contend with such powerful emotions amid such vexing circumstances. Under greater control, he turned back to where Elizabeth was sitting and found her looking contrite and weary.
Jane wiped her teary eyes with her hands. “Darcy is not responsible for Bingley, Lizzy. Let this not come between you. Bingley—Mr Bingley had valid concerns about the reputation of his family should he marry into ours. Everything must sink under such a proof of family weakness as Lydia’s situation.”
“Jane, no. Mr Bingley did not act honourably in leaving you. It is shameful.” Elizabeth pushed Jane’s hair from her face.
“He spoke at length of his doubts, of his fears about our reputations, of his ever being considered a gentleman, of Caroline ever marrying—that he was from a respectable family and had to think of his future. I had to, Lizzy. I had to release him.”
“Oh, tell me you did not!”
“His countenance appeared so relieved when I offered to let him go.” Jane’s voice was lost in sobs.
Darcy went to Jane, and when she saw him approach, she attempted to rein in her tears. He lifted her hands gently, and his voice broke when he attempted to speak, the sight of such a kind soul in agony almost too much for his sensibilities to handle. “I wish I could say anything to comfort you, but it is wholly out of my power. I am, dear sister, your most obedient and humble servant. I shall add only that he does not deserve you, Jane.”
Darcy squeezed her hands and let go. Giving Elizabeth a meaningful look, one that he hoped conveyed his desire to speak with her privately, he quit the room. He entered the vestibule, ready to enquire after Gardiner, but found Lydia instead, seated on a stool in a window recess. He might have passed her by had she not called to him.
“Is it true? Has Bingley jilted Jane?” she asked, with less of her regular composure.
“Yes.” How could his friend act so dishonourably?
“Whatever Bingley may have heard against me, it is inexcusable that he should abandon Jane.”
“While much of the blame falls on Mr Wickham, you might have considered all the possible ramifications of your elopement before you disregarded our social mores and gave yourself over to him.” He regretted his rudeness, but Lydia did not appear offended, merely resigned.
“And what about you, Darcy? Are you not fearful of the scandal intruding on your family honour?”
“Of course I am, but I would never give up Elizabeth.” It occurred to him that perhaps no one had ever advocated for Lydia. “I have a sister your age, and I will care for you just as I would for her. I shall do all I can to see that Mr Wickham marries you.”
“And keep me out of sight, should he not. I will only marry Wickham, you know. You will not pass me off on some tenant farmer. Oh, not because I love Wickham, but he ought to do right by me, and I would have such fun provoking him. But I would much rather stay at home. I would do nothing like this again. Please, Darcy, I do not wish to be sent away to Ireland. Papa and Uncle Gardiner will do whatever you suggest.”
“Your well-known”—Darcy struggled to find the suitable words—“departure from chastity leaves us no choice. Sadly, your entire family must suffer along with you, and their disgrace is all the worse the longer you remain in their company. Surely your family has explained that you can no longer move in the same society as they do. Bingley’s abandonment will, sadly, not be the last.”
Lydia sighed miserably, but did not challenge him.
“I feel badly for Jane,” she whispered. “She deserves better than this. If even kind-hearted Jane hates me, I might as well leave Longbourn, whether or not Wickham marries me.” Lydia paused to consider him before continuing. “I suppose you are wealthy and important enough to weather a scandal if you still want Lizzy. Your being handsome likely helps as well.”
Darcy was mercifully saved from replying because Lydia was not finished. “I could not say for certain where Wickham is, but he often spoke of taking me to Bath. If you find him there, you must make him promise to take me to a dress ball in the Upper Rooms.”
Lydia, although suffering from remorse, still felt equal to address him on such a topic. After looking at her in unconcealed astonishment for a long moment, Darcy, with grave propriety, begged to take his leave. Lydia curtseyed and left to return to her own apartment. He could only shake his head at her back as she ascended.
Elizabeth wantedto scream against the injustice suffered by Jane. The shock upon entering the room soon after Bingley quit it and seeing Jane overcome with grief was not soon to be recovered from. Every moment she held Jane brought fresh agitation for her sufferings.
“Lizzy, when will I cease to regret him?” Jane asked pitifully when her tears temporarily subsided.
“You will be happy again, I promise you.”
“I thought all my cares were over. I thought all was safe for a lady who was engaged and that no harm could come to us when we learned of Lydia’s situation.”
“He might change his mind. Perhaps when Mr Wickham marries Lydia, when all the gossip has ceased, and there is some other scandal to occupy the collective—”
“No! I could not bear it. To be brought togetheragainand risk being separated another time? No, ’tis too much. Mr Bingley does not want me, and we shall never marry. I am only pained because I know I shall never be happy without him.” Her tears began anew.
There was no way she could leave with the Gardiners and Lydia in the morning, not when Jane needed her. They sat together for some time, much longer than Elizabeth realised, until Mrs Gardiner entered to check on Jane. Their aunt had come to be of use to one more deserving of her attentions than Mrs Bennet. She persuaded Jane to return to her own room and promised to spend the rest of the day comforting her and reminding her of all of Mr Bingley’s dreadful qualities. With a small smile, Jane agreed, and Elizabeth remembered Fitzwilliam was still somewhere in the house.
She discovered him in the dining room—alone—and Elizabeth was sure she could never forget the sight of him. He sat at the table, leaning over it with folded arms, his face concealed as if overpowered by the feelings of his soul. He did not look up when she entered, but Elizabeth could see from his shifting weight and the movement of his shoulders that he knew he was no longer alone.
“I regret criticising you,” she offered quietly. “You are not at all unfeeling. I was so heartbroken for Jane that—”
Fitzwilliam lifted his head and waved his hand as he rose. “There is no need. We are both under undue strain and shocked by this morning’s events. I have not spoken to, nor even seen, Bingley since yesterday. He has avoided me.” He cursed quietly. “I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman’s feelings.”
