Authors: Elizabeth Ann West
“Words are rarely the best act of contrition. Direct me, madam, and I shall not fail you a second time.”
Amused, Elizabeth’s mouth twisted to hide her smile. She tilted her head and motioned towards the door. “Go earn your forgiveness, sir, and you shall have it.”
As her fiance bowed, Elizabeth held her breath and prayed that the true man she was marrying was the one marching out to assist and not the one who blasted her family with the prejudices of society. Resuming her attention to her sums, she also hoped her aunt would assign him to the spice crates. A little dose of pepper oils would be a suitable punishment. Imaging his nose red and eyes watering, she laughed and returned to adding up the receivables against the master manifest. Her neck ached and her fingers burned, but she was determined that soon they would finish this nasty business of inventory.
For three days, Georgiana and Darcy assisted in the warehouse, and Darcy had even gone so far as to review the financial documentation with Mr. Gardiner’s head clerk and visit with the sick man himself. Mr. Bingley had called at the Gardiner home, but as he was told the ladies were not available for callers, he had simply shuffled away. It was on the second evening after the inventory was complete that he finally ran into Darcy at their mutual club, though Darcy looked worse for the wear.
“Aye, Darcy, I say, has Harding bested you in fencing again?” Bingley pounced on the open armchair next to his friend.
Darcy shook his head and sipped his drink. With a low voice, he explained why he was so sore and tired from the warehouse work. The look of shock mixed with terror on Bingley’s face froze the conversation for a spell. After a loud crack from the fireplace, Darcy politely asked why Bingley never showed up to help.
“Ah,” Bingley rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “I called a number of times, but each visit the butler told me the ladies were unavailable for callers. I assumed Mr. Gardiner’s injuries were still of a serious nature.”
Darcy looked flabbergasted at his friend. “Charles, unavailable means the servant is telling you there is something wrong. If he had said they were not accepting calls, that would mean you’ve personally been barred access.”
“Oh.” Bingley looked around the room in an attempt to lessen his embarrassment. “How in blazes was I supposed to know?” Looking into his own glass, Bingley shook off his faux pas and chuckled. “At least it saved me from the stink of trade again, eh?”
Darcy shrugged. He would never admit his own first error, and he was surprised at how repulsed he felt from Bingley’s own careless prejudices, though his fortune actually came from trade. Bingley’s father had been in the wool trade, so it was more than just prejudice but actual hypocrisy. “Tomorrow I am to escort Miss Elizabeth to Hyde Park on a picnic. Perhaps you’d care to join me to call on Miss Bennet?”
Again Bingley’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Tomorrow? No, I don’t believe, that is . . . Caroline has arranged a luncheon that I really mustn’t miss.”
“She didn’t perchance invite some ladies to this luncheon, did she? Perhaps Miss Graham and Lady Towsend?”
“How did you...? I’ll be dashed you don’t have a secret network of spies.”
“Stand down, Bingley, I have no such thing. Did it not occur to you that your sister would also invite me? I asked Elizabeth if she and Jane were invited, and finding they were not, I properly filed the invitation in my fireplace.”
“Now, Darcy, my sister means well . . .”
“Don’t be deuced, Charles.” Darcy stood and stretched his aching muscles, then motioned to the man in the room for his personal effects. “You need to stop being such a whelp and make a decision in regards to Miss Bennet. As my future sister-in-law, I take any man who would dally with her affections very seriously. In two weeks there is to be a ball on the eve of my nuptials to Miss Elizabeth. It is the last invitation I will force my aunt to make to both Bingleys, if you catch my drift, unless there is a connection that cannot be ignored.”
Darcy bowed and took his leave when his effects arrived and hoped that Elizabeth would be happy with his interference. She was right that this courtship of theirs had tarried on far too long, and it needed to be broken or cemented to help prevent talk of Lydia.
Chapter Eleven
With two weeks left until her wedding, Elizabeth Bennet was once again packing her trunks. This time, she and Mary were to reside with Lady Matlock until the wedding ceremony in order to lessen the strain on the Gardiner home. Jane elected to remain behind to provide extra help, though Elizabeth secretly suspected that society was steadily becoming her elder sister’s least favorite part of living in London. Gone were the plethora of compliments and attentions she enjoyed in Meryton. At the few teas the girls had attended, the main focus was always on Elizabeth, a status the second oldest Bennet sister was not keen to continue but had little choice in the matter.
Accepting another gown from her aunt, Elizabeth graciously thanked her. “It seems I cannot stay put in one household for more than a month!” The two women shared a giggle. Mrs. Gardiner took a seat on the bed, careful not to sit on any of the garments already laid out.
“I’m afraid it’s about to become much worse for you, my dear. The post of Mrs. Darcy requires extensive travel and packing.”
Elizabeth made a face and lowered the burgundy dress she was in the process of folding. “I do hope there will be other inducements.” For a moment, the two women remained completely serious, but soon broke into laughter. Mrs. Gardiner patted her niece’s hand, happy that her private talks with her niece had made Elizabeth look forward to the wedding bed, not fear it.
“My dear, I do believe at this time in just a few weeks you will be quite the content wife. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return back downstairs. Jane is entertaining the Bingleys.”
“Pray, I fear my packing will take me much longer that I originally expected.”
Mrs. Gardiner clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Oh be hidden with you. Poor Jane does not need you sparring with Miss Bingley this afternoon.”
Shrugging, Elizabeth returned to her packing, tucking her father’s copy of Hamlet into its usual place. The tome had become quite the travel companion and its addition to her trunk made her smile wistfully, remembering that night only a few months ago when she had imagined packing for the life of a spinster. Here she was packing for her life as a wife, and she found the latter much more to her liking, even if she did dislike packing in general.
Downstairs, Jane struggled with the Bingleys’ visit.
“And Lord Bergamot is quite the gentleman! Being from France, he has such a number and variety of bon mots that we were all in stitches at Lady Carrigan’s, were we not, Charles?” Caroline Bingley continued to bring up subjects Jane could not possibly remark on.
“He was not so witty,” Charles sniffed, noticing Jane was scarcely paying attention. The more he considered making good on Darcy’s warning, the less confident he was that he could give Jane a happy life. “But let’s have no more talk of balls! Have you considered my invitation to the theater, Miss Bennet?”
Before Jane could answer, the front door to the Gardiner house opened and a very loud and shrill Lydia Bennet arrived in the front foyer.
“La, where is everyone? Let me go. It’s me, Lydia! I am the niece engaged to the wonderful Mr. Wickham. Isn’t he here as well?”
Jane blanched as Caroline reached for her teacup in a knowing manner. “Pardon me, Miss Bingley, Mr. Bingley.” Jane rose from her seat as Mr. Bingley stood and bowed. Both Mrs. Gardiner and Jane reached Lydia at the same time, and the drastic plumpness of her figure made both women pause and look at one another in horror.
“We had no idea you were to travel. Why did you send no note?” Mrs. Gardiner’s voice was strained as she mentally worked out where to place Lydia, then remembered that Mary and Elizabeth were to leave that very afternoon.
“And ruin the surprise? Where is he? Surely he’s been found by now!”
“Lydia, Mr. Wickham is not here,” Jane explained quietly.
Suddenly, a look of panic crossed Lydia’s face, and she began to shout. “What do you mean he is not here? It’s been months, Mr. Darcy promised he would find him! He must be found!”
Mrs. Gardiner and Jane shared another glance, and Mrs. Gardiner wrapped her arm around Lydia, attempting to steer her towards the back of the house, but Lydia refused to move and fought her guidance. Jane rushed back to the sitting room.
“Mr. Bingley and Miss Bingley, it appears my sister has traveled from Hertfordshire to surprise us and see to her Uncle, but she is greatly fatigued. You’ll forgive me for asking your pardon. I promise to call upon you in the very near future?”
Caroline Bingley sniffed, but placed her teacup down and rose with her brother. “Of course, Jane dear, we could not possibly impose on you at a time like this.”
Jane gave both a relieved smile, but as she walked them to the door, Mrs. Gardiner and Lydia were still in the foyer. As Caroline Bingley looked Lydia up and down, saying nothing, the bottom of Jane’s stomach dropped. She wasn’t positive, but any woman would take one look at Lydia Bennet and come to only one conclusion. The youngest Bennet daughter was breeding.
Not long after the Lydia ruckus and the Bingley departure, the Matlock carriage arrived. With Mrs. Gardiner busy in the kitchen plying a crying Lydia with tea and comfort, Jane Bennet began to weep in the armchair just inside of the drawing room. When the carriage was announced and her other sisters beginning to descend the stairs, Jane wiped her eyes as quickly as she could and set her shoulders back. She was the eldest Bennet sister, and already too much had fallen onto Elizabeth’s shoulders to fix. With a serene smile, she greeted her sisters at the bottom of the stairs.
“Have a lovely time and make sure to tell Lady Matlock how much I appreciate her invitation.” Jane hugged Elizabeth farewell.
With a quizzical expression, Elizabeth looked around in the hallway, but could only hear soft voices from the kitchen. “Is Aunt crying?” Elizabeth began to take a few steps towards the back of the town home, but Jane blocked her way.
“Sssh, Aunt is embarrassed that her sentiments have run away again, but she said she will see you both soon. It would not be prudent to make the Matlocks wait.”
Elizabeth eyed her sister suspiciously, but shook her head. The Jane she knew and loved was not the same Jane that left their mother’s house to come to London, but there was no doubt any intrigues between Jane and their aunt were of a good nature. In fact, Elizabeth wondered if the two of them did not have some surprise planned for her as that was certainly what she would be doing if their positions were reversed. Turning around and linking arms with Mary, Elizabeth Bennet took her final steps across the Gardiner threshold as a resident.
Once the carriage had safely rolled away, Jane turned from the front window and hastened to the kitchen. Lydia looked forlornly at the table, still heaving sporadically with dry sobs. Covering her mouth in horror, she looked at her aunt for confirmation, and her aunt slowly nodded.
“Mr. Wickham must be found straight away, I’m afraid,” was all her aunt explained with a heavy tone.
Gingerly, Jane approached Lydia to sit next to her, and the younger girl lifted her head to stare at her oldest sister with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m to be married. He said, he said—” she gulped for air, “he said we were to be married.” Finished, she wailed a new howl of anguish.
Overwhelmed with grief for her sister, and all of their futures, Jane embraced Lydia and pulled her to her chest. “Shhh, shhh, all will be well. You were very brave to travel here all alone. Very brave. Together we will find a way to protect you and the baby. I promise.”
Mrs. Gardiner excused herself and shuddered as she bristled down the hallway. She wished she could share Jane’s optimism, but without a trace of Mr. Wickham, and the family more or less deciding there was no future for Lydia married to that lout, she was unsure how they might find protection for anyone. With a deep breath, she took the stairs one at a time to avoid for as long as possible the moment when she must break her husband’s heart.
Arriving at the Matlock house, Mary and Elizabeth were handed down by two of the most dashing Fitzwilliam men. The colonel was on hand to escort Miss Mary as his cousin, Mr. Darcy was there to enjoy the attentions of his intended.
“The ride was not too taxing, I hope?”
Elizabeth playfully swatted Mr. Darcy’s arm and laughed. “Hardly, sir. Now the constant packing and unpacking of trunks on the other hand, that is quite taxing indeed.” Darcy gave her a look of pure chagrin.
“I could have sent Becky to your aunt’s home. I was merely acquiescing to your request that she not permanently join your service until we are wed.”
Elizabeth sighed. “And I still believe that was for the best. This Mrs. Darcy business is quite overwhelming at present, and I am following the advice of my betters.”
“Oh?” The couple finally began to walk towards the town home, following the colonel and Mary.
“Yes. I will only take on those duties and delights as I am comfortable with, no more, no less.”
“Hmm, very wise.” Darcy leaned close to Elizabeth’s ear just as they reached the door. “I promise to make you quite comfortable, Mrs. Darcy.” With a nonchalant expression, Darcy handed a red faced Elizabeth into the foyer, and if she gave a little shiver before her curtsy to Lady Matlock, it was hardly noticed by those present.