Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

WHEN EVERYONE CAME back from Rosings, Elizabeth was bursting with her news, but no one came to look in upon her because they all thought she was abed with a headache. Her first thought was Jane, and she took an oil lamp and ventured down the hallway to Jane's bedchamber, but when she knocked on the door, she got no answer.

Then she sought out Charlotte. However, Charlotte was not in her room, which meant she must be in her husband's bedchamber, and Elizabeth considered that with a sort of horror that could not be fully experienced, so she ceased to think of that by sheer force of will.

She knocked on Jane's door again on the way back to her room, and this time, she was received inside by a flushed and overly excited Jane.

"He's here, Lizzy," said Jane by way of greeting when she came inside.

"Who is?" said Elizabeth.

"Mr. Wickham," said Jane. "He came to my window and I climbed out and walked with him. I am only now back here. He has asked me to elope with him. What should I do?"

"Elope?" Elizabeth put her hand to her chest.

"I know, I know. I told him that Papa would have no objection to our union. He has dined at our home so very many times. He and Papa even get on well, I think. Mama loves him. She would be overjoyed. He will be welcome at Longbourn, so there is no need to elope, I said. He says he has just now got his nerve up to do it, and if we don't act, he will lose the nerve."

"That sounds wretched," said Elizabeth. "No. He either marries you properly or not at all."

"Oh, you would say that." Jane wrung out her hands.

"Attend to me, Jane, I have spoken to Mr. Darcy about Mr. Wickham—"

"What? When?" Jane drew back. "Oh, Lord, Lizzy, Mr. Darcy was not hurt from riding, was he? He came here."

Elizabeth nodded. She spread her hands. "I'm engaged."

Jane let out a high pitched noise and reached out for her sister. They clasped hands and turned in a circle, both laughing. "I'm so pleased for you, Lizzy."

"Thank you, I think it is going to be something lovely, in the end, but I haven't any certainty of it. It all seems so very strange."

"But I wish you could be happy for me ."

"But Mr. Darcy says that Mr. Wickham did it for his sister's fortune."

"But Mr. Wickham says they were in love."

"Yes, well, very convenient, isn't it? Being in love with someone with that much money. And Mr. Darcy says he has always been interested in money, only money."

"Well, that's easy for Mr. Darcy to say. He has never had to worry about money in his life!"

"True," said Elizabeth. "But I worried that Mr. Darcy had actually denied Mr. Wickham that living, and he says he gave him money. Did Wickham tell you that?"

"Well… we have not discussed it in some time."

"Ask him about that ."

"Oh, does it matter?" said Jane. "Maybe he was only motivated by money before, Lizzy. Going after Miss King seems to indicate that. But he's had a change of heart, and he's worried he will lose it if he doesn't act. This is why he's insisting we elope. Because he worries if we wait, he will go back to that way of thinking. But the fact he wants to elope at all, it means that he values me more than money. Perhaps I'm the first thing he's ever valued in that way."

Elizabeth let go of Jane's hands, considering this. Could that be right? Was it possible that Wickham had been hitherto only concerned with money, but that—when it came to her sister—it was true love?

"You think I'm wrong," said Jane. "You think that I am thinking too well of him. You think that I think too well of everyone."

"I…" Elizabeth let out a breath. "I suppose I must admit that I am not making the most prudent of decisions these days, not when it comes to men. Mr. Darcy and I…" She could not even finish. How to explain the way she'd allowed him to kiss her, the way she'd pressed her body into his, wanton, the way she'd opened her mouth and accepted the fiery tingle of his tongue. "I cannot cast a stone, Jane. I am not without sin. But Mr. Wickham… something about Mr. Wickham worries me."

"Well, what is it?"

"I don't know exactly. I think he's a liar, I suppose. He has been caught in lies, Jane. You are not taking that into consideration."

"You mean, his story has been contradicted by Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy is definitely telling the truth?" Jane raised her eyebrows.

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. "Well, I suppose Mr. Darcy could be lying." He'd said the things about Wickham before she'd thrown herself at him, after all. He'd not been assured of her at that point. Perhaps a man might lie to secure a woman. It was not out of the realm of possibility. It didn't seem like him, though, she didn't think. On the other hand, when it came to Mr. Darcy, her judgment was impaired.

"You see?" Jane put her hands on her hips.

"It's something else," said Elizabeth. "Something about that story with Miss Darcy. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

"I think it's tragic. I think his rejection by her, after he had allowed himself to finally love her—"

"I think she was too young. "

Jane was quiet.

"It's only that a girl that age , Jane, you remember what it's like to be that age. Why, when I was but twelve, I used to imagine some man, some older man, far too old, being interested in me, and I thought it would mean that I was sophisticated and worldly and mature. But I never considered what it would say about a man like that, you know? Why would a man so much older want a girl that much younger?"

"He didn't start it," said Jane. "She did."

"We have met her," said Elizabeth. "She barely says three words in mixed company. This is the girl who was the ‘aggressor'?"

"I am also shy around people I don't know," said Jane. "But amongst others—"

"You, Jane, would also never be the ‘aggressor' in a romantic relationship!" Elizabeth protested. "I don't know any girl of proper upbringing who would, especially not with a man with whom there is such disparity in their social stations. He was the son of her family's servant . I don't… I can't see that happening in any other way than his being the one who wanted it, and his taking advantage of her."

Jane shook her head. "You don't know George very well, Elizabeth."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, when have you decided to call him by his first name? "

"I am only saying that, if you knew him, you would understand that he's simply not that way. He's a good man."

"Yes, and we just got done saying that you think too well of everyone."

"And you just got done admitting that you can't be sure that Mr. Darcy is not the one lying."

Elizabeth bowed her head. "You won't elope with him, Jane?"

"You wish me to promise this?"

"Oh, Lord." Elizabeth squeezed her hands into fists and released them.

It was quiet .

"If he made mistakes in the past," said Jane, "he's different now."

"You're going to go, aren't you? Is it tonight? Is he coming back for you tonight?"

"Are you going to prevent it? Will you go out and tell everyone what I am up to?"

Elizabeth felt miserable.

"Think, Lizzy, if Mr. Darcy had asked you to elope with him this night. What would you wish from me?"

This went through her like a jolt, for she knew that if this had occurred, that she wouldn't have even talked to Jane about it. She would be, even now, in a carriage with Mr. Darcy, likely in his lap, likely doing even more shocking things with her tongue. She looked down at the floor. "I shall keep your secret, Jane, but not forever. Once others have discovered you are gone, I shall let them know what has taken place. I only hope, by then, you are well on your way to Scotland."

"Thank you, Lizzy," breathed Jane, reaching out to take her hands again.

"I hope you do not regret this forever," said Elizabeth in a quiet voice. And she thought, heavily, of what Mr. Darcy would think when he knew that her sister had married Mr. Wickham .

He would not be pleased.

THERE WAS A letter from Mr. Darcy in the morning. It said that he would have stopped to see her before he left for Hertfordshire, but that he wanted to be on his way and back that day, and he would have been too distracted by her to ever leave her if he had.

She was exhausted, having tossed and turned all night, thinking of Jane and Wickham, but the letter made her smile.

She read it again and again, thinking that he had remarkably even handwriting, and wishing she had gone to him, somehow, last night, and told him about Jane and Wickham. She had not. He would have put an end to it all, and she was positive of that. She thought maybe it should have been put an end to, but she also didn't wish to destroy her sister's happiness in one fell swoop.

Mr. Darcy had said that wretched thing about all of the men in her path proposing marriage, and it wasn't true, but there was some truth to it. Mr. Bingley had been interested in her. Colonel Fitzwilliam had asked her to marry him. Even Mr. Wickham, when she first met him, had said that thing to her.

This, Lizzy, is why you don't want him for Jane, and be honest about it.

Well, she was never going to reveal that to Jane. It was cruel, for her to think that the man who wanted to marry her had been looking at Elizabeth first.

Elizabeth wondered at it. She had never thought herself pretty, and her mother had insisted, over and over again, that she was the worst of the sisters in every way. Of course, she'd always been her father's favorite, and there was no way she could quite deny that. Had she been beautiful all along? Had she simply not realized it?

Elizabeth wanted to go and look at herself in the mirror and try to confirm her beauty, but she dismissed this as vain. Besides, this was not the thing to be worrying about. Jane's absence was. Once everyone discovered she wasn't here, that was when things would change.

But Jane had told the maid that she felt poorly the night before and asked if she could please not be disturbed and allowed to lie in that day. So, it was anyone's guess when someone would look in on her, but Elizabeth thought it might not be until noon. She didn't say anything at all. She read her letter and worried.

Morning was the time that she and Jane would usually go on their walks. She thought it might look strange if she decided not to go at all, so she left the parsonage, but she did not walk far. She simply found a bench and sat there, staring off at the sky and twisting her hands together, worrying .

"You are hiding from me, so I suppose it can't be good news."

Startled, she looked up to find the colonel behind her. She got up. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, you snuck up on me."

"Sorry," he said, with a crooked sort of smile. "I don't know what's become of Darcy this morning either. However, I can imagine."

"He went on horseback to speak to my father," she said.

"On horseback? All the way there? How many times will he have to change out horses, I wonder?" The colonel laughed under his breath, rueful.

"I swear I didn't mean to hide from you and not give you a proper answer. I had rather forgotten all about your proposal. Everything has been madness."

"Forgotten about it." The colonel's smile was wry. "I suppose I'm somehow to not take offense at that. He proposed to you and it wiped out all thoughts of—"

"No, it's not about his proposal, it's something else, but I can't tell you about it, as I have promised to keep my counsel for now, so I'm very sorry, but—"

"What else?" he said.

"I have even now just said that I cannot speak of it!"

"Well, what if I swear myself to secrecy?"

She sighed, looking him over. "You swear?" Because it would be better to explain to him why she was so out of sorts. Also, in truth, she wished she had someone to speak to about it.

"I swear on the blood of the Matlock line," he said. "I shall not breathe a word of it to a single soul."

"It's my sister."

"Ah, yes, you are here alone again, aren't you? Is she without any shoes at all?"

"No, it's not about her shoes. She's eloped."

The colonel came round the bench and sat down, smiling widely. "Oh, you've got all the gossip. Start at the beginning. Do I know the fellow?"

"I don't know," she said, sitting down, too. "Perhaps you do. I'm told he was often in the company of the Darcy family in his youth, but I haven't any idea if he was ever really part of their social set or left at home at Pemberley or—"

"You're not talking about Wickham." The colonel's voice had changed. It had become quite severe, quite soft.

"You do know him." Elizabeth felt like she might start sobbing. "And from your response, it seems all my fears are confirmed. What you know of him isn't good."

"He's not a good man," said the colonel. "I doubt he has any intention of marrying your sister."

"No?" Elizabeth let out a squeak. "But then, what would he want with her?"

"To ravish her, clearly, what do you think men do with women? It's ravishment even if it's not done forcefully, if it's done by trickery, don't you agree?"

Elizabeth swallowed. "So, he will… what? Leave Jane alone and ruined and go on his merry way?"

"What do you think it was he did to my cousin?"

"Miss Darcy? He…" Elizabeth gestured with her head, unable to say the word aloud.

"Well, I don't know for sure," said the colonel. "Darcy has it in his head no, and Georgiana flatly denies it, but they were together overnight, and I am a man, Miss Bennet, and I can assure you, if he had the inclination, there's nothing that would have stopped him. Men risk all manner of things just for a chance at it, and I don't think Darcy even knows what it is to be tempted in that way."

She was blushing.

The colonel cleared his throat. "Never mind that. We need to go after your sister."

"They're already on the road to Scotland by now, and I don't see how we can catch them up."

"I doubt very much he is intending to go all the way to Scotland," said the colonel.

"What do you mean?""

"He's stopped off in London, undoubtedly, to do as he pleases with her, and there he will abandon her, I shouldn't wonder," said the colonel. "He has places he could have taken her in London, people who will give him lodging even if has no coin to pay."

"No," said Elizabeth. "No. If Jane knew that he was not taking her to Scotland, she wouldn't have stayed with him. My sister would not let a man destroy her in that way."

"Well, it's too late, isn't it?" said the colonel. "All we're going to be able to do is to insist that he marries her."

"We can do that?"

"That or shoot him," said the colonel. "I wouldn't mind shooting him."

Elizabeth was a bit taken aback at that.

"I don't know why I'm saying ‘we,'" said the colonel. "It's not as if you can come along with me. You're an unmarried woman. You'll have to stay here. I shall go after him."

Being an unmarried woman was dreadfully inconvenient, wasn't it?