Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice Sequel Bundle: 3 Reader Favorites (138 page)

I felt for her, but she had no need of my assistance in repelling the attack. After a moment’s distress she replied: ‘It is always sad to lose the company of intelligent and good-natured people. There are those who enter a neighbourhood with a view of mocking all they see, or an intention of forming false friendships with which to while away their time whilst giving no thought to the feelings of those who must remain. But we were fortunate with the officers. They were polite and well-bred. They gave us pleasure when they were with us, and left nothing but pleasant memories behind when they went.’

I caught Elizabeth’s eye and smiled. Caroline was silenced, and my sister was relieved from the acute embarrassment she had experienced when Caroline’s words had reminded her of George Wickham. I was
relieved of a great burden. By her calm manner I believed Elizabeth’s infatuation with Wickham to be over.

The visit came to an end, but I could not bear to let Elizabeth go.

‘You must let me see you to the carriage,’ I said, as Mrs Gardiner rose to take her leave.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

I walked with them, glad of the opportunity it afforded me to be with Elizabeth. Her aunt walked a little ahead, so that I could talk to her alone.

‘I hope you have enjoyed your morning.’

‘Yes, thank you, I have.’

‘I hope I will see you here again.’

We had reached the carriage, I could say no more. But my feelings were in my glance. She blushed, and looked down, from confusion, I hope. There is still some little awkwardness between us, but that will pass, and then I will discover if her feelings towards me are still what they were at Easter.

I handed Mrs Gardiner into the carriage. I handed Elizabeth in after her, and the carriage pulled away.

Little had I known when I had returned to Pemberley that it would hold so much of interest for me. It would soon have a new mistress, I hoped. I looked across the sweeping lawns and pictured my sons going down to the river to fish. I looked to the house and saw my daughters returning from a walk, their petticoats covered in mud. If I could be sure it would come to pass, I would think myself lucky indeed.

I was loath to return to the saloon, but knew it must be done. I could not leave Georgiana alone with Caroline and Louisa. They had done nothing to help her during Elizabeth’s visit, and had indeed added to her distress. If it was possible to invite Bingley to Pemberley without his sisters I would willingly do so.

‘How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning,’ said Caroline, as soon as I entered the room. ‘She is grown so brown and coarse. Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.’

It was clear to me that Caroline’s remarks were inspired by jealousy. I had wondered, on occasion, if she fancied herself the next Mrs Darcy, but dismissed the notion. Now I was sure of it. I was determined not to let her ill-natured remarks ruin my happiness, however.

‘I saw nothing different about her, except that she was rather tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling in summer.’

‘For my own part,’ she went on spitefully,‘I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her.’

As she went on to criticize Elizabeth’s nose, chin, complexion and teeth I grew more and more annoyed, but said nothing, even when she added: ‘And as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive anything extraordinary in them.’

She looked at me challengingly, but I remained determinedly silent.

‘I remember your saying one night, after they had
been dining at Netherfield: “She is a beauty! – I should as soon call her mother a wit”.’

‘Yes,’ I replied, unable to contain myself,‘but that was only when I first knew her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.’

And so saying, I walked out of the room.

Caroline’s impertinence goes beyond all bounds. If she was not Bingley’s sister I would tell her to leave. To insult Elizabeth, to me! She must be far gone with jealousy indeed.

But she cannot pierce my happiness. I love Elizabeth. Now it only remains to be seen if Elizabeth loves me.

Friday 8th August

I could not sleep last night, but this time the cause was happiness. I think Elizabeth is not averse to me. In time, I think, she might come to like me. I thank the happy fate that brought her to Derbyshire, and the happier one that prompted me to ride ahead of the rest of my party, in time to meet her. In London, I tried to forget her, but it was impossible. Now, I must try to win her.

I went to the inn, therefore, this morning, hoping to sit with her. I was shown up to the parlour by the servant. As we went upstairs I wondered what expression would cross her face when I entered the room. By that, I might know much. A smile would show I was welcome. Embarrassment would give me leave to hope. A cold look would dash me completely.

The door opened. But instead of seeing Elizabeth sitting with her aunt, I saw her darting towards the door, her face pale and her manner agitated. I started, thinking some great calamity must have befallen her to produce such a look, but before I had a chance to speak she turned anguished eyes to mine and exclaimed: ‘I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not an instant to lose.’

‘Good God! What is the matter?’ I asked, longing to be of service to her. As soon as the words were out, I knew how unhelpful they had been. Collecting myself, I said: ‘Let me, or let the servant, go after Mr Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself.’

‘Oh, yes, the servant.’ She called him back and said breathlessly: ‘You must find my uncle. Fetch him at once. It is a matter of the utmost urgency. Send a boy. Tell him his niece needs him immediately. Tell my aunt. She must come, too.’

The servant promised to do so, and left the room.

I saw Elizabeth’s knees tremble and I moved forward, ready to lend her my assistance, but she sat down before I could reach her, looking so miserably ill that I could not have left her, even if I had wanted to.

‘Let me call your maid,’ I said gently, feeling suddenly useless. I knew nothing about helping ladies in such circumstances. A sudden thought hit me. ‘A glass of wine, shall I fetch you one?’

‘No, I thank you,’ she said. I saw her wrestle with herself and control the worst of her agitation. ‘I am quite
well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.’

She burst into tears. I longed to go to her and comfort her. I longed to put my arms around her and ease her pain. But I could do nothing. For the first time in my life I cursed civility, good manners and breeding. They had always seemed so important to me, but they now seemed valueless because they were keeping me from Elizabeth.

A moment longer and I believe I would have thrown convention to the wind, but she recovered herself and said: ‘I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. My youngest sister has left all her friends – has eloped – has thrown herself into the power of – of Mr Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him – she is lost for ever.’

I could not believe what I was hearing. This was perfidy indeed. To steal a young girl away from her relatives and friends. And yet he had done it before, or at least he had tried to do it and would have succeeded if he had not been foiled in the attempt.

‘When I consider that I might have prevented it! I who knew what he was,’ she said.

No, I wanted to say. You are not to blame. I should have made his nature known. But the words were pouring out of her in a torrent, and I could do nothing but let her speak. At last, her flow came to an end.

‘But is it certain, absolutely certain?’ I asked.

News travels fast, especially bad news, but it is often distorted along the way. I could not think that Wickham would elope with Miss Lydia Bennet. She had nothing to tempt him, and he had no score to settle with the Bennets. He must know that such behaviour would make him an outcast. It was too great a price to pay for the pleasure of marrying a silly young girl with no name and no fortune. And then, indeed, how could he marry her? She was under age. He could take her to Gretna Green but the journey would cost a great deal, and I knew he would not spend half that amount unless his bride was a considerable heiress.

‘They left Brighton together on Saturday night and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland.’

I began to gain an idea of what must have happened. Wickham knew London. He knew where he could lie concealed. And when he had taken his pleasure, he could abandon Miss Lydia Bennet with impunity.

All this had followed from my insufferable pride. If I had made Wickham’s character known it could not have happened, but I had disdained to do it, and in consequence I had hurt the woman I loved.

‘What has been done, what has been attempted to recover her?’ I asked.

I needed to know, so that I would understand how best to use my time, and how to conduct my own search. I would not rest until Elizabeth’s sister was returned to her.

‘My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to
beg my uncle’s immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour.’

Half an hour! After all my hopes, to lose Elizabeth so soon, but of course it must be done.

‘How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!’

I could say nothing, do nothing, but give her my silent sympathy and hope it strengthened her. I longed to embrace her, but her uncle would be returning at any minute, and to do so would make the situation worse.

‘When my eyes were opened to his real character. Oh! Had I known what I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not. I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched mistake!’

I knew she must be wanting me gone. It was I who had enjoined her to secrecy; I who had said she must tell no one. And this had been the result. A sister ruined, a family in turmoil.…She would not look at me. I was not surprised. I managed a few incoherent words, telling her I had nothing to plead in excuse of my stay but concern.

‘This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley today?’

As soon as I spoken, I thought how ridiculous the words were. Of course it would prevent it. She did not seem to mind, however, for she answered me directly.

‘Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible.
I know it cannot be long.’

‘You can rely on my secrecy. I am sorry it had come to this – I wish you a happier conclusion to events than now seems possible.’

Because if a happy conclusion is possible, I will contrive it somehow, I thought.

With that I left her to her solitude and returned to Pemberley.

‘You have been abroad early,’ said Caroline as I entered the saloon. ‘You have been visiting Miss Eliza Bennet, perhaps?’

I saw the jealousy in her eyes, and heard it in her voice. I had never realized until that moment how deeply she wanted me. Or perhaps it would be fairer to say, how deeply she wanted Pemberley. Without it, she would have regarded me as nothing. My handwriting could have been the most even in the world and she would not have thought fit to comment on it.

‘Yes, I have,’ I returned.

‘And how is she this morning?’

‘She is very well.’

‘And we will be seeing her later, I suppose? How these country people bore one with their visits.’

‘No, she will not be calling.’

‘Not bad news from home, I hope?’ asked Caroline. ‘Lydia Bennet has not run off with one of the officers?’

I started, but then controlled myself. She could not have heard about it. Elizabeth had told no one but myself. Caroline’s words were the result of spite, and their
accuracy was nothing more than luck.

‘Or perhaps her accomplished sister – Mary, is it not? – visited Lydia in Brighton and attracted the attention of the Prince of Wales? Perhaps he has invited the whole family to stay with him, so that they can share in Mary’s triumph as she entertains him at the Marine Pavilion,’ she said in a droll voice.

‘Her uncle has had to take her home. He has been forced to curtail his holiday, as an urgent business matter has called him back to London.’

‘These city men and their urgent business,’ said Caroline, conveniently forgetting, as is her habit, that her father made his fortune from trade.

‘That is what comes of having an uncle in Cheapside,’ said Louisa. ‘I pity Miss Eliza Bennet. It must be mortifying to have to cut short a holiday on account of business.’

‘It reminds me that I, too, have business to attend to, which I have neglected for too long,’ I said shortly. ‘You will excuse me for a few days, I am sure.’

‘You are going to London?’ asked Bingley.

‘Yes.’

‘What a good idea. I should love a few days in London,’ said Caroline.

‘In all this heat?’ asked Louisa.

‘The heat is nothing,’ she said.

‘Can your business not wait?’ said Bingley to me. ‘I have to go to London myself at the end of the month. We could go together.’

‘Unfortunately it is urgent. Stay and enjoy Pemberley.
There is plenty for you to do here, and my sister will make sure you are well looked after. I will not be away very long.’

‘I think I will take advantage of the opportunity to go to London with you and do some shopping,’ said Caroline, standing up. ‘I will call in on my dressmaker. You would not object to taking me with you in the carriage, I am sure.’

‘You will not wish to leave Georgiana,’ I said. ‘I know how much you enjoy her company.’

Caroline was silenced. She quite doted on Georgiana, or so she was fond of saying, and she could not pursue me without revealing her friendship to be false. She might betray Miss Bennet, but she would not care to betray Georgiana, particularly since I knew a plan fermented in her brain, similar to one I had once entertained, of Georgiana becoming her sister-in-law.