Astonishment

Astonishment

7 September 1812 Gracechurch Street

Dearest Jane and Mary,

Thank you both for your wonderful letter, and I especially thank you for managing to send it express. You have no idea how much it warms my heart to know I have two such wonderful sisters, and today I need all the reminder of worthy sisters I can get.

I hear Lydia preparing to face her wedding day, so I shall add to this letter after the hateful event has transpired.

~~~~~

I have endured Lydia’s wedding day now, and the party has finally, departed so I may deliver the surprising news of the day, but prepare yourselves for a shock. All previous exclamations of absolute astonishment are to be completely forgotten, as I have had the most fantastical experience of my life—actually two in rapid succession.

The first was that Lydia was reasonably quiet and polite as we made her ready for her wedding and escorted her to the church. I have come to really think the worst of her in every way. Even though that is uncharitable of me, considering how much she has cost our aunt and uncle as well as all our sisters, with no regard for consequences whatsoever, I find I cannot and will not forgive her. Perhaps someday in the far future I may relent slightly, but not today or anytime soon .

Aunt continues to show how a true lady acts, and helped Lydia make up one of her dresses as well as could be done, then patiently listened to her prattling on about lack of trousseau or new dresses or bonnets with astonishing patience. For my part, I kept staring at her ear, willing myself to not grab it and drag her back upstairs, but compared to that first day, she was an absolute lady.

As you would expect, there were just Aunt and Uncle in attendance, along with me standing up with Lydia. That idea obviously filled me with mortification, as if I would approve the union, but it is my duty to my other sisters, and I agreed to perform the office as I could not ask one more thing of our aunt.

We walked to the local parish and entered a cavernous building that looked thoroughly forlorn and lonely with just the four of us making up the party while waiting for the groom to appear. I was doing my best to not weep, and our least sensible sister was doing her best to not dance around in raptures. It was quite disconcerting.

The doors opened again, we all turned to the back, and I had the very most shocking experience of my life . It quite exceeded Mr Collins’s proposal by a wide margin, every shock of the previous month, and the nasty letter from Mrs Bennet combined. All of those were as nothing compared to the extreme surprise of finding Mr Darcy standing up with Mr Wickham. I must confess, I could do nothing except stand beside Lydia in open faced astonishment whilst the vows were read. Such was my shock; I did not even flinch when hearing Lydia and that man say words like love and honour without the slightest indication that they understood the irony.

Once the ceremony concluded, I found myself signing my name next to Mr Darcy’s in the wedding register, yet another experience I would never in my life have anticipated. His countenance was not that of a man doing something he enjoyed, but more like a man on his way to the gallows; or come to think of it, a man who had already been there. I have never seen such a look of abject misery, and I was quite at a loss to explain it. I had no idea why he was there at all, let alone with such an expression, but I must confess it was not very long before my suspicions were aroused to the fullest.

Before we quit the church, Mr Darcy stepped aside with the despicable groom and Uncle Gardiner, and a sheaf of papers were all signed with little ceremony. Wickham (I will never call him either ‘brother’ or ‘mister’) signed with a flourish and a despicable snigger, and Mr Darcy signed with grim determination.

That was not the oddest part—no not at all. I was at the time quite befuddled, and fully unable to find any explanation for the phenomena, but Uncle Gardiner did not sign anything! Nothing at all! Not a single page. All he did was place himself in a position I could not understand, until I noted that it would be very difficult for Mr Darcy to see me observing the proceedings.

That gentleman had quite forgotten me, but I suspect had he had all his wits about him, they would have gone somewhere more private for the nasty endeavour. I know the look of business documents, and there is no doubt in my mind that Wickham was being paid to marry our sister, probably a handsome sum.

Such was my level of confusion that it took me a full five minutes or more to comprehend the only possible explanation. I am certain you will have worked it out by now, but I could not think properly. By the time I realised the only possible explanation, I ran out of the church as if chased by wolves, trying to shout my profound thanks, but I was too late. The gentleman, and I am now heartily ashamed I refused to use that appellation a mere few weeks ago, was in his carriage and leaving. My thanks were shouted to the wind, and I am certain he did not hear me.

My only hope now, and it is a forlorn one, is that one day I may encounter him in the blacksmith shop when I go to Lambton for Mr Ellery and may give him my thanks, before he has time to run away. I am determined that shall happen, for as I am quite certain you are now aware; the only possible explanation for his actions in the church is that he paid for everything . Had Uncle Gardiner done so, as I had always assumed, then he would have had to sign, but Mr Darcy was the only gentleman to leave the church with ink on his fingers.

When I returned, I braced Uncle about it. Clever man had to tell me that in fact, Mr Darcy had done much more than I surmised. Not only did he buy the commission and pay Wickham’s debts, but he also found the couple, tried to talk Lydia into leaving Wickham, offered to find her a worthier husband, and finally made all the arrangements to save the Bennet sisters when she would not be moved. Why he should do so is quite beyond me, but he seems to have felt honour bound.

The only possible explanation I can come up with is that he must have known Wickham’s propensities last winter but chose not to warn our family, and his honour demanded that he offer the protection now that he omitted back then. Nothing else makes the slightest sense to me, and even that one stretches credulity to the limit. Uncle said he had agreed with Mr Darcy to never tell me what he had done, which was why Uncle, clever man that he was, found a way for me to work it out on my own without telling me.

So, dear sisters, I must say that I am heartily ashamed of most of the things I said about him. He was arrogant and rude in Hertfordshire, and he either saved Jane from an indifferent suitor or destroyed her happiness with his interference; but I believe more reflection will produce a more charitable explanation for that event as well. I also surmised from what Uncle told me about the date he first met with the gentleman, he must have left Pemberley within hours of my leaving Miss Darcy and rode straight to London to start his search.

All I can say is that this day’s actions have shown him to be a true gentleman, and quite possibly the best man I have ever known. I only hope for a chance to thank him one day, because he has truly saved all my sisters.

Your chagrined sister, Lizzy