Chapter 15

Fifteen

Elizabeth, her hopes for time alone with Mr Darcy disappointed by the morning's deluge of rain, was further vexed when a letter from Mr Wickham arrived. Its heartfelt protestations of love and desperation sent Jane to her bed, where she fretted about her stupidity and feigned a headache well enough to be beset by one bad enough to keep her from services the following day. Another letter arrived on Tuesday. Their effect on Jane was so profound that Elizabeth interfered, urging her sister to disregard them and demanding that any correspondence from Mr Wickham be given to her. She was glad to have done so, for in the last missive, his pleadings of desperate feeling turned to incredulous accusations of betrayal and injury.

You will not cast me aside, my love. You are mine, promised to me. Nothing can tear apart your hold on my heart or my claim to your hand.

Was Mr Wickham threatening Jane? Elizabeth was at a loss to explain it otherwise. She needed to speak to Mr Darcy; she wanted to see him almost desperately. But no one from Netherfield had been seen since their call at Longbourn on Friday. The weather was cold and damp, and the grounds quite muddy, but nothing should prevent Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley from visiting. One gentleman's appearance would lift Jane's spirits, the other would do even more for Elizabeth. Where were they?

Her disappointment over their thwarted walk was profound. So much of their conversation had centred on Jane's romantic travails, and yet she felt she understood him. She was heartened he shared her eagerness to discuss other subjects—be it poetry, stories of town and family, history, or current events. No matter the topic, his opinions were certain to be deeply considered and interesting. Elizabeth had known the young men of Meryton all of her life, and there were none whose company she had enjoyed as she did Mr Darcy's. And yet, she worried, as different as she was from Jane and he from Mr Wickham, was her growing affection for Mr Darcy too similar to what had happened to Jane?

No, it was the depths of his mind and heart that drew her. Of course, Jane would say the same of Mr Wickham—the same of Mr Bingley as well! Elizabeth sighed heavily and tossed aside her unopened book.

I do not know if it is love, admiration, or simply like-minded companionship. I am not capricious by nature. Whatever this is, it is more than I understand or have ever felt.

Setting aside her own concerns, Elizabeth determined it was past time to talk to her father about Mr Wickham's letters. After dismissing her enquiries for weeks after the engagement, he had appeared pleased by Jane's abrupt decision to break it off. A report of his actions earlier in the day made her curious about whether he also had heard from Mr Wickham. She rose and walked briskly to his book-room. Once granted entry, she got quickly to the point.

"Papa, what has happened? You went to see Uncle Philips after the post arrived."

Mr Bennet turned away from the window as she entered. Outside it, Elizabeth could see Jane and Mary walking on the path next to the muddy remains of the flower garden.

"The neighbourhood's voluntary spies have been hard at work," he said, chuckling.

"Lady Lucas was in Meryton and saw you go into his office. Charlotte is my friend, and she assumed I knew of your business there."

"Hardly spies, then. Merely gossips."

The invective was harsher than usual; worried, Elizabeth stepped closer to her father and saw his beloved face was marked by fatigue. "Mr Philips is an attorney. Did your call concern Jane and Mr Wickham? I am worried about his letters to her."

"He continues writing to her as well? The man may not squeeze money from my purse himself but he is denting it with the postages for these letters." Mr Bennet sank into his chair, its seat moulded to his frame over the years; it had never proved comfortable to Elizabeth, but she imagined comfort was exactly what her father sought in the familiar but worn leather seat. He looked past her before his gaze fell to his clasped hands and he began speaking.

"I am pleased with Jane's decision to break things off with Mr Wickham. He is a most vexing fellow. Only a fortnight ago, he had not believed her settlement was fair." He dug through a neat pile of papers on his desk and pulled out a much-abused letter. Lowering his spectacles, he read aloud: "‘If I am to provide for the younger sisters, I must pay off my debt to those who funded my education.'" He threw down the letter in disgust and turned away.

Elizabeth's indignation overflowed. "His education ? He was given funds by Mr Darcy to study the law, then spent them on…drink and frivolities."

Eyebrows raised, Mr Bennet peered closely at Elizabeth. "I see. That fact only adds to my concerns over his new demand."

Sinking into the worn red chair she had long considered her favourite, Elizabeth observed the deep worry in her father's countenance. "Demand? What has he written to you? He writes to Jane that she cannot cast him aside."

Ashen, his frown grew deeper. "No, apparently none of us can do so, or there will be consequences."

"He has threatened her? Us?"

Mr Bennet waved a hand as if it would dispel her concern. "I did not fully trust Mr Wickham, and mistook venality for geniality as he offered up his heart and his colourful tales." He pulled off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. "Your sister's former beloved provided few particulars of his present situation but made us all aware of Mr Darcy's nefarious character. You seem to have struck up a rapport with the man since the assembly. Apparently, civility overcame you both long enough for you to determine that he is the worthier man. I refused to hear him out, certain of my own judgment. It was a grievous error, so do tell me what I must know."

Although desperate to hear whatever Mr Wickham had written to her father, Elizabeth first was compelled to explain a little of what she had learnt from Mr Darcy. Mr Bennet paled upon hearing the truth behind the tapestry of falsehoods Mr Wickham had woven. "You must apply to Mr Darcy for the rest, as he is a gentleman and thus unwilling to provide me with any especially unpleasant particulars."

"Good God," Mr Bennet mumbled, his head in his hands. "A carefree life of dissipation and grift, and only when my pocketbook is affected, am I truly alarmed. I hardly know what to think, believing myself above the petty fascinations of licentiousness and gambling, but here I am with my daughter caught up in speculation due to her own kindness and beauty."

The truth in her father's confession pained Elizabeth. He had been unwilling to meet with Mr Darcy and had put off her questions—and only hers, as no one else save Mr Gardiner had pressed him to verify Mr Wickham's character or the honesty of his many tales. If not for Mr Darcy's fortuitous arrival and his willingness—nay, eagerness—to expose the truth to her , Jane and their family would be ruined. Yet still they were not clear of Mr Wickham, not if he refused to accept Jane's decision.

"I thought him merely a princock, a man certain of his charm and pleased to use it, but to have him exposed as a liar and libertine!" Mr Bennet began to complain of charming men and the danger of smooth tongues before arriving at the inevitable but daunting conclusion. "If she marries him, she will be miserable. If she does not, he will malign her, ruin her name. It is extricating him from our lives without ruining Jane's happiness or her reputation that is the conundrum."

"Jane will not marry him! She deserves happiness, not a marriage because a man—a man without scruples or fortune—demands it."

Mr Bennet sighed heavily. "That is no different from how many brides and grooms enter the marital state. If I cannot meet his requirements, Jane is obligated, under the law. Her name, and that of her sisters, will be ruined, and Mr Wickham can ruin me by suing for breach of promise."

Jane is doomed whether or not she marries him? "You must speak to Mr Darcy. He has been eager to be of assistance to our family."

Elizabeth waited impatiently while her father's fingers tapped a rhythm against his leg, as if he were containing his anger. Finally, in a calmer voice that still held all the disgust he had earlier expressed, he voiced his remorse. "Lizzy, my girl, you have done the work for me—work I should have done by putting pen to paper or deigning to speak to Mr Darcy when he called."

"Why did you not see him?"

Looking abashed, Mr Bennet shook his head. "I have been an obstinate fool, refusing to grant even common civility to the gentleman."

Leaning back in his chair, Elizabeth thought her father looked ten years older than he had a few days ago. Sighing, he admitted, "I too was charmed by Mr Wickham, and I have not the funds to ensure the marriage or to send him away. It is quite a predicament."

"Jane cannot be forced to marry him!"

With that exhortation, Elizabeth's gaze fell to her lap, where Jane's letter lay crumpled. She had no pity to spare for her father; all of her concern was directed towards Jane, the only person who deserved it, and Mr Darcy, whose efforts to warn Mr Bennet had been turned aside.

"Papa, you are correct that had Mr Wickham's character been known, none of this could have happened. You must speak to Mr Darcy immediately."