“And by now, the rumor has spread all over Meryton and the surrounding areas,” he said. “Leavitt had heard.”
“Likely Mrs. Bennet went around, door to door, announcing to anyone who would hear,” I muttered.
“Well, I hesitate to say what this might mean for Miss Elizabeth’s reputation.”
I looked up at the ceiling. “God in heaven.”
“No, no, I’m certain, once everyone has heard the truth of it all, then they will realize they were mistaken,” he said.
“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it,” I said. “She wouldn’t marry me now even if I wanted to marry her.”And I do not wish to marry her.
“No, I see that. She really does not like you,” said Bingley.
I wished to accompany Elizabeth when she was taken home, so that I could explain the situation to her parents. These people thought I had absconded with their daughter. They had accepted that I would do that, would take away a woman who had not yet reached her majority, overnight, compromise her, force her hand in marriage, so they obviously had no good opinion of my character.
The right thing to do was to go and face them and apologize for my part in all of it. Perhaps I ought not have charged into the house after Elizabeth. Perhaps there was some other way that I could have made sure she was safe and also given her some time alone as she wished. Perhaps my part in all of it was the lion’s share.
However, Elizabeth would not hear it. She insisted that she not be forced to travel with me and that I not be there when she was reunited with her family.
I tried to argue with her about it, which I think had the opposite of the intended effect. She became more entrenched the more that I opposed her.
Anyway, I stayed back at Netherfield and left Bingley to go and explain it all. I did write a letter to be given to Mr. Bennet, one that stated how unfortunate the entire circumstance was and said that I would be at the family’s disposal should there be a need, if this did not all blow over quickly.
I was worried, I had to admit.
I have not often been personally the subject of gossip, but I well know how it spreads and how it can take on a life of its own. It is not truth that spreads, but the simpler tale, the more exciting tale, the more salacious tale. Truth is too complex and, well, boring to be easily repackaged and told over and over. Gossip takes shape from the sorts of stories that are too appalling to have ever really occurred without a bit of twisting to help the truth along.
So, when Bingley said that once everyone knew the truth, they would cease talking of it, I knew that would not happen.
But I did hope that the elements of the true tale that were interesting might overtake the others. Being trapped in a dilapidated house, the stairs falling down, that sort of thing? Perhaps that would supplant a story of a trip to Scotland.
I should have simply left.
I had resolved to go back to London, after all, because I now realized what I’d been doing here. This had been in service of Georgiana. I was trying to concoct a cover story to explain why I was marrying her to Bingley.
Except I wasn’t going to marry her to Bingley, and I was sure of that now.
So, there was no point in being here, none at all.
Still, I stayed, and I was not entirely certain why. Bingley himself was not cold towards me, but not entirely warm. Caroline, of course, was frosty. She wasn’t even speaking to me, but then, she wasn’t speaking to much of anyone. When she did speak, she said she wished to go back to London, and then fell entirely silent after that.
But there was little hope of that, it seemed. Bingley was set upon giving the ball he had promised to the Bennet sisters. He would have liked Caroline to play hostess for him, to see to the invitations and the like, but she would have none of it, and it all fell to the servants and Louisa.
I could not be here for that ball.
I needed to go.
I tarried, however.
I listened to servants’ conversations after they saw me in the house. I would follow them and stand behind doorways or round corners, to hear if they spoke to others about what was being said of me.
I should have predicted it, truly.
The story was that I had eloped with Miss Elizabeth, and that, somehow, she’d fallen and sprained her ankle, and then I had decided I wanted none of her and sent her home and washed my hands of her.
I did not like it.
What I did not need was for there to be whispers like this about me, not when Georgiana’s situation was so precarious. It was all the more reason for me to quit the country and return to London, hopefully ahead of the rumors, so that I could have already had my own version of events—the true version—out to everyone before it overtook everything.
