Page 73 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the parcels placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate parting between the friends, Lizzy was attended to the carriage by Mr. Collins, and as they walked down the garden he was commissioning her with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point of being closed, when he suddenly reminded them, with some consternation, that they had hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies at Rosings.

"But," he added, "you will of course wish to have your humble respects delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you while you have been here."

Lizzy made no objection; the door was then allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off, headed to London, where they were to stop before heading home to Hertfordshire.

"Good gracious!" cried Maria, after a few minutes' silence. "It seems but a day or two since we first came, and yet how many things have happened!"

"A great many indeed," said her companion with a sigh.

"We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice! How much I shall have to tell!"

Lizzy added privately, "And how much I shall have to conceal!"

Their journey was performed without much conversation, allowing Lizzy the opportunity to reflect once more upon the events of the past few days. The matter with Mr. Darcy had eclipsed that other matter related to Trenwith House, but now regret reared its head over the latter. The loss of her virtue did not concern her as much as the possible effect of being with child. No one would be the wiser with the former, but the latter was no easy matter to hide. The consequences upon her and her family would be disastrous. No behaviour on the part of any in her family could have doomed Jane more than her own folly. Perhaps she should have accepted Mr. Darcy’s offer of marriage and saved her family from disgrace! But, no, she could not see herself married to a man she did not love. She had every aversion to the sort of union she witnessed between her mother and father. If matrimony was to hold any value for her, the companionship must have elements of respect, admiration, and affection.

And passion.

She felt none of these for Mr. Darcy, though her animosity toward him had all but evaporated. But she would not marry out of convenience. She would sooner marry her instructor, for there at least was a passion of the flesh. It were possible such passion could not be sustained without the presence of higher sentiments, but for the moment, her attraction to him was vivid and powerful. That he had resisted signified character, and she did not fault him so much for succumbing as she did exalt in her own prowess to seduce a man of experience. He must have desired her.

Oh, but she ought not have seduced him! She ought to have heeded his initial word of warning and stayed away from Nicholas Trenwith. Regardless, the die had been cast. Fretting over what she could not undo served no purpose. She wished she had had the opportunity to speak once more with Abby before departing Hunsford and determined that she would write to her upon reaching London, where they were to remain a few days with her aunt and uncle.

Jane looked well, and Lizzy had little opportunity of studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindness of her aunt had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home with her, and at Longbourn there would be leisure enough for observation.

It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait even for Longbourn, before she told her sister of Mr. Darcy's proposals. To know that she had the power of revealing what would so exceedingly astonish Jane, and must, at the same time, so highly gratify whatever of her own vanity she had not yet been able to reason away, was such a temptation to openness as nothing could have conquered but the state of indecision in which she remained as to the extent of what she should communicate; and her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of being hurried into repeating something of Bingley which might only grieve her sister further.

On the subject of her education at Trenwith House, Lizzy had no compelling reason to burden Jane with its disclosure, which, if coupled with the shock of Mr. Darcy’s proposal, might place even the healthiest young person into a precarious state. It was not all concern for the welfare of Jane that silenced her, but fear that she might lose the esteem in which her sister had always regarded her. The bonds of sisterly love, though not broken—for Jane was too kind and caring to hold anyone, let alone her sister and dearest friend, in contempt—might yet lose its lustre. Or Jane might hold others culpable and look upon her sister as the victim of misfortune. Of all sentiments, Lizzy liked pity the least.

*****

Lizzy finished her letter to Abby on the second day of her stay in London, but before she put it in the post, the intended recipient appeared in person herself. The Gardiners received their guest graciously. From the quality of her transportation, modish attire, and impeccable manners, they deemed she must be a person of stature, though they would not have been any less civil toward anyone of less standing. Awed by her beauty and radiance, Maria forgot Lady Catherine had warned against this person.

“What brings you to London?” Mr. Gardiner asked of Mrs. Trenwith.

“I am part of a committee that intends to submit a petition to members of Parliament to abolish slavery throughout the empire,” Abby replied with as much aplomb as if she had been remarking upon the weather. “Ending the trade of slaves is insufficient. The dreadful institution thrives in our colonies, which have simply turned to other nations, including our enemies, for supply.”

Lizzy glanced around at her family for their reaction. Maria had none as she knew little of the topic. Mr. Gardiner had been partaking of a biscuit and coughed upon its crumbs. Mrs. Gardiner and Jane were surprised and, having formed no opinions on the subject, said nothing.

“I should have warned you there are no innocuous questions with me. Ask me to comment on the mundane, and I fear I should still as like provide a provocative answer.”

“It is commendable that you should take a concern in the welfare of our nation,” Jane replied.

“That is very considerate of you!” She turned to the Gardiners. “How fortunate you are to have two lovely nieces.”

The remainder of their conversation consisted of more ordinary matters—the duration of Mrs. Trenwith’s stay, the house she kept in Berkeley Square, an invitation to take in a performance at the theater—and no politics. Lizzy, excited to see her friend and wanting to be alone with her, could hardly sit still. She had a premonition that Abby’s appearance was not simply a social call and was relieved when Abby requested Lizzy’s company for a ride about Hyde Park in her curricle.

“Are you truly here for but a sennight?” Lizzy asked as Abby snapped the ribbons at two regal greys pulling the vehicle.

“My dear, are you accusing me of fibbing?” Abby replied.

“Not at all! It was merely an attempt, a poor one, admittedly, to lament the shortness of your stay.”

“It was not long after you left Hunsford that I began to miss your company as well. We had not spoken much of your last lesson at Trenwith House, and I did not understand the full weight of Nicholas’ misdeed till recently.”

Lizzy raised her brows.

“I was informed of the details in a letter from your mentor. He confessed to having thrown caution to the wind and, if he thought his indiscretion to merit forgiveness, would beg it of you.”

Abby spoke sternly, her frown enlarged by the infrequency of its place upon her face.