Chapter 5

Five

Though visibly road weary, Mr Bennet took only enough time to shake the dust from his boots before calling the ladies of the household to the parlour. Upon being informed that his wife was too weakened by her poor nerves to attend him there, he gathered his obviously tattered patience with a deep inhale and led his daughters upstairs to their mother's bedchamber, insisting he did not wish to share this information more than once. Elizabeth dearly hoped that her father's attitude did not bode ill for what he meant to tell them.

"I have a few announcements," he said as the four sisters and Mrs Gardiner gathered round Mrs Bennet's bed. Elizabeth, squeezed into the window seat beside her eldest sister, clutched at Jane's hand as she awaited their father's news. "Firstly, Lydia has been found and she is to be married."

Elizabeth turned to Jane and embraced her, full of relief that their tribulations were nearly over. Certainly, Lydia's were only just beginning, which diminished the joy of the event, but some of the repercussions of her folly might be mitigated for the rest of them. Even if they were not destined to make great matches—Elizabeth experienced a surge of pain for the potentially great love she herself had already lost—they might still have a chance at being respectably settled. It was all Charlotte Collins had ever wanted and now all the Bennet ladies could reasonably expect.

"Oh, praise be!" cried Mrs Bennet, her voice filling the room with rapturous joy. Her recovery from her debilitating hysteria was remarkable; Elizabeth traded a look of fond exasperation with Jane. "I knew how it would be! Mrs Lydia Wickham—how well that sounds! But there is so much to be done, so much to purchase. Tell me, Mr Bennet, how much will you give her?"

He met his wife's enthusiasm with a dour glare. "Nothing more than she has already been granted, madam. She is lucky to get that."

"What?" Mrs Bennet pressed a hand to her heart and gasped. "How can you be so cruel? Lydia must have new things! We would not wish to see her shamed before the neighbourhood by seeing her married in an old frock."

Mr Bennet's eyes narrowed. "You need not worry over that, for Lydia shall never return to Longbourn—not so long as I live."

The outcry from Mrs Bennet was immediate and cacophonous, and worsened Elizabeth's headache considerably. "What on earth can you mean? Lydia must come home to be respectably wed! She will want to stand up in church where all her friends can see her and?—"

Mr Bennet raised his hand to still her tongue, but it had no significant effect on his wife's ravings. In the end, he was reduced to speaking over her. "Lydia cannot possibly come home unmarried, you must see that. She will be married from London and then be off to Newcastle with her husband. That is final."

"Newcastle! What can possibly be waiting for them there?"

"Wickham's new regiment. Though I cannot say he deserves it, his… friends have helped him purchase a commission in the regulars as a wedding gift. We can only hope that the newly married couple will be kept busy and out of trouble."

Elizabeth knew not what to feel at this pronouncement. She had hardly expected Papa to welcome Lydia back to Longbourn with open arms, but to deny her entry entirely was a harsh punishment, indeed. Especially for a sixteen-year-old girl whose first foray into the wide world had ended in near-tragedy. Should she be denied the loving embrace of her family for a single foolhardy decision?

And yet, she could not blame her father for this lack of charity. Given Lydia's infamous behaviour and Wickham's proved debauchery, how could he not wish to protect his remaining unmarried daughters from their influence? His caution—Elizabeth glanced at Kitty, the most susceptible of her sisters to unsavoury influences—and his anger were admittedly warranted. Perhaps some distance would be best for now.

Mrs Bennet continued to argue with her husband while Mrs Gardiner sought to soothe her ruffled feelings, but only Mr Bennet's next pronouncement sufficed to provide a quelling effect. "Your opinions are duly noted, but I should like to leave the subject of our youngest daughter for the moment. You may recall that I have more than one announcement to make. Well, here it is—Lydia is not the only one of our girls to be married."

Every eye fixed upon Mr Bennet and several mouths fell open. "What do you mean?" his wife demanded. An instant later, she brightened and sat up, her nerves once again conveniently forgot. "Has Mr Bingley returned for Jane?"

Elizabeth felt Jane squeeze her fingers tightly. Her elder sister's pallid expression did not reveal whether she was more hopeful or horrified by their mother's conjecture, but it was not unreasonable to assume either—or both.

"No, our Jane will remain with us a while longer. I refer to Lizzy."

The collective gaze of the room turned from Mr Bennet and settled upon Elizabeth. She could practically feel it warming her skin. "Me, Papa? I cannot imagine who it is I am supposed to marry."

He peered at her through his gleaming spectacles. "Can you not?"

Elizabeth felt the slap of his implied accusation sting her cheeks. This provocation, however, did nothing to enlighten her to the identity of her mystery bridegroom.

When she remained mute, Mr Bennet unleashed a heavy sigh and relieved them all of their anticipation. "Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth felt suddenly unbalanced. Had she been given a hundred guesses, a thousand , she never would have supposed that her father would return from London with a betrothal to the very man she had been regretting these many weeks. Much as with Lydia's exile, she knew not how to feel about it: Should she be overjoyed? Concerned? Relieved? Anxious? All she presently felt was dizzy.

"M-Mr Darcy?" she repeated in wonder.

A sentiment which was echoed more brashly by Mrs Bennet. "Mr Darcy! That odious, proud man? Do be serious, Mr Bennet—he does not find Lizzy handsome at all! Oh, how you love to vex me."

"I am entirely serious on this point, I assure you," said Mr Bennet, frowning at his wife. "I have met with Mr Darcy in London and he has agreed to marry our Lizzy. So you see, even if you cannot parade our youngest about Meryton, you at least have the privilege of doing so with our second born."

Mrs Bennet turned to Elizabeth—who remained stunned, unable to meet even the warm gaze of Aunt Gardiner—and eyed her up and down. "Are you in earnest, Mr Bennet? Mr Darcy is really set to marry our Lizzy?"

"Quite in earnest, I assure you. Though I am not inclined to part with any more money on Lydia's behalf, you may spend as much of it as you like planning a grand affair for Lizzy. No doubt our future son-in-law can afford it."

Just like that, Lydia and Wickham were supplanted in Mrs Bennet's most immediate concerns. She shrieked more loudly in her joy than in her despair and leapt from her bed, intending to dress for an outing. She apparently meant to inform the entire neighbourhood of Elizabeth's good fortune—"Oh, and Lydia's too, of course!"—in securing a man worth ten thousand a year. Mrs Gardiner and Mary attempted to rein in her impulsiveness, but Mrs Bennet would hear nothing of it as she rang the bell for Hill and enthused loudly over how many gowns, fine carriages, and jewels Elizabeth was sure to have as Mrs Darcy.

Mr Bennet shook his head at the scene and turned to leave. The rest of them were caught up in Mrs Bennet's activity, but Elizabeth's attention remained affixed to her father's movements. As he crossed the threshold into the hall, she quickly stood and followed him through the house and into his book-room. There, she watched as he went immediately to the port decanter and filled a glass to the brim. He drank down half, poured out some more, and finally took his seat behind the desk. "I suppose it was too much to hope that you might allow me to settle in before beginning your inquisition."

Elizabeth ignored her father's dry witticism and closed the door behind her. She was too agitated to sit in her usual chair, so remained standing. "I cannot marry Mr Darcy, Papa."

He stared at her for a long, silent moment as if searching for something. Elizabeth did not know what he might find aside from her excessive agitation. "I am sorry to be requiring this of you, my dear, but I fear I must. Were there any other way, believe me, I would not ask you to tie yourself to such a cold, ill-mannered gentleman. I know you have always hated him, but you must try to put that aside now."

"That is not at all my meaning!" Elizabeth was quick to object. Her father's brow twitched with apparent interest, but not surprise. "Mr Darcy is the very best of men and I esteem him more than I can possibly say. He is honourable, loyal, and feels more deeply than anyone I have ever known. He deserves so much better than to share in our disgrace."

"And yet, it is a settled thing."

"But why? Why would you go out of your way to ruin him by shackling him to our unfortunate family?"

From within his coat pocket, Mr Bennet revealed a familiar letter and placed it upon the desk between them. Elizabeth regarded it in wide-eyed horror.

"I believe this explains my decision adequately."

Mr Darcy's letter! Elizabeth blindly grasped about for the chair she had disdained upon entering and flopped into its seat. "Where did you get that?"

"I discovered it in the Gardiners' carriage while we were out and about searching for Lydia. Imagine my surprise later that evening when I opened it and read the signature at the bottom." Mr Bennet's brow was now fully raised and his mouth pulled taut. Only rarely had Elizabeth been on the receiving end of such an expression from her beloved father and his censure was keenly felt.

Swallowing, she collected herself as best she could. Though her voice still trembled, she again attempted to defend Mr Darcy's freedom. "You do not understand. He cannot want this, and it would be cruel to force him."

Her father leant back in his chair and took another sip of his port, to all appearances as idle as ever. However, a sharp glint in his eye belied his veneer of indifference. "I find it rather interesting that the both of you have attempted to refuse my demands upon the premise that the other would not wish it. Methinks you both protest far too much."

Elizabeth experienced this declaration like a blow to the chest. It came as no surprise that Mr Darcy would not wish to marry her, but to hear it stated outright was painful in the extreme. So painful, in fact, that it took a few seconds for her father's implication to properly sink in. "You believe—" Elizabeth swallowed. "He actually wishes to marry me?"

Mr Bennet snorted. "If he does not, then he has gone to a great deal of trouble on Lydia's behalf for nothing."

"What do you mean? What does Lydia have to do with any of this?"

"Your Mr Darcy"—Elizabeth's heart fluttered to hear her father call him her Mr Darcy, however much she doubted the truth of it—"has saved us all from imminent ruin by finding Lydia and persuading Wickham to marry her. When he discovered them, Lydia refused to remove herself from her disgraceful situation." Mr Bennet sneered into his port. "That wilful child had the gall to defend herself to me by saying she was sure that Wickham would have married her some time or another, and it did not much signify when the blessed event took place. I could barely look at her again after that."

Though Elizabeth was impatient to hear more of Mr Darcy, she bit her lip, clasped her hands together in her lap and bore the anticipation as best she could. Her father did not like to be rushed and it was clear that Lydia's betrayal—which was far worse than even Elizabeth had believed, if his account was accurate—injured him greatly.

Mr Bennet used his free hand to rub at his eyes beneath his spectacles. "Mr Darcy bartered with Wickham to restore Lydia's virtue through marriage. He was on the cusp of approaching your uncle Gardiner on the matter when I confronted him with his own piece of disreputable conduct." He gestured at the infamous letter. "There was nothing to be done that he did not do himself. Obstinate, high-handed…" His speech trailed off into unintelligible muttering.

Elizabeth's astonishment was complete. How could he have gone to so much trouble for a girl so unrepentantly dissolute and the man who had nearly ruined his own sister? It seemed impossible, but her heart did whisper, he did it for me .

No, that was ludicrous. Mr Darcy's farewell in Derbyshire had been final and indifferent; it left no room for hope. He had been disgusted and scandalised by Lydia's folly, as was right and proper for anyone of unimpeachable character; she could hardly expect him to rejoice in this new evidence of the inferiority of her closest connexions.

But would he have done so much for a woman he could no longer esteem? He would have outright refused to marry her, letter or not, unless he retained some tender feeling for her.

Unless he felt obligated to make reparations.

Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her temple, her head throbbing as the contradictions battled it out in her overtaxed brain. She could make no sense of this new information.

Her father recalled her attention to the present, his tone sympathetic. "Are you well, my child?"

"I…forgive me, I do not know what to think. I cannot understand Mr Darcy's motives in all this."

"I think," said Mr Bennet, setting his glass aside and folding his hands upon the desk, "you are too overwrought to see the obvious. Though I cannot be glad over how your engagement came about, I will say that the gentleman appeared relieved when I insisted upon him marrying you."

Elizabeth's heart swelled with foolish hope. "How can you be certain?"

"I suppose I cannot, but I suspect he would have been begging me for your hand had he even the slightest hint that you were willing to accept him. Whatever you said to him during his previous proposal seems to have convinced him that you would never have him. If only you had been equally plain with my idiot cousin, I should not have been forced to endure his and your mother's lamentations last autumn."

Though Mr Bennet smiled at his jest, Elizabeth could not share in his amusement. To make light of what happened in Kent at such a moment was… She could not think clearly enough to come up with a proper invective, but suffice to say she was resentful. To prevent herself from lashing out, she bit her lip and looked down at her lap where she was gripping fistfuls of her skirt.

There was a soft sigh and her father cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Lizzy, that was an unkind thing to say. I am wretched and bitter these days, but it is not your fault. It is mine, most probably, and Lydia's. I cannot say that I am terribly pleased to find another gentleman tarnishing the reputation of one of my daughters, either, so regardless of what either of you wishes, I am afraid I must be firm: you will marry Mr Darcy. I will brook no opposition in this matter."

Unclenching her jaw enough to respond, Elizabeth said, "Yes, Papa."

"Very good. Now leave me so that I might enjoy some semblance of peace and quiet before your mother begins wedding planning in earnest."

Dismissed, Elizabeth stood and made directly for the exit. She paused only to snatch Mr Darcy's letter off the desk, holding it against her heart as she fled the room.