Chapter XXII

A t Longbourn, the laments of their youngest family members had grown louder with the knowledge the men of the regiment could no longer afford to devote time to their amusement. In this, Kitty was as voluble as Lydia, for regardless of whatever had happened of late, Kitty was no less sorry to see the regiment depart.

"We are sundered from them earlier than even we feared," said a morose Lydia. "It is all Colonel Forster's fault, for he has weighed them down with so many duties they have not a moment to spare!"

"Of course, he has done this just to spite you, Lydia," observed Mr. Bennet. "Moving an entire encampment of soldiers is no more difficult than crossing the street, so his motivation must be to cause you the greatest distress."

Lydia fixed her father with an unfriendly stare, but he did not notice, situated as he was behind his newspaper. "It would not be a problem if you had not forbidden me from going to Brighton."

"And yet, I am unrepentant," said Mr. Bennet. "I explained my reasons, and they are more than sufficient to keep you at home."

"More than sufficient, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. "I shall not have one of my girls put upon by a mere militia officer!"

"But Mama!" whined Lydia. "I intended to capture a colonel of the regulars!"

"You suppose such a colonel would frequent a militia encampment?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"Brighton's camps hold more than just militia, Papa."

"Hmm, perhaps they do," replied Mr. Bennet. "At least you are a little less foolish than I had thought, for such a man might possess the means to allow him to take a wife."

"Colonel Forster is married," huffed Lydia with annoyance.

"Yes, and that is the most sensible thing he has ever done."

Mr. Bennet's dry tone was lost on his youngest daughter. "It is a love match, Papa, for he quite adores Harriet."

"Not having seen them much together," said Mr. Bennet, "I cannot refute it. Nor would I wish to, for a man's marriage is his business and no one else's. What I can tell you, Lydia, is that you will not go to Brighton. Think of Colonel Fitzwilliam. Do you suppose he wishes to have you as a wife? Unless I am mistaken, he is a little young to be a colonel, and yet he is likely a dozen years your senior, if not more. Would his fellows look to a girl half their age as a potential wife?"

"I am certain they will," was the girl's mulish reply.

"Except they will not, for you will not go."

Lydia could not gainsay him, though her scowl spoke volumes as to her opinion.

"I do not wish to lose you to a man of the scarlet, regardless," said Mrs. Bennet. "Think of the opportunities that will come your way, Lydia. If Mr. Bingley proposes to Jane, you will gain entrance into higher society. You could attract a wealthy man in those circles."

"I want an officer for a husband," grumbled Lydia. "I wish to see distant lands and experience adventure in them."

"Then perhaps you can catch a colonel when you come out into society," said Mr. Bennet. "At present, you are far too young."

That was the end of Lydia's open grumbling, but the subject remained in the back of Elizabeth's mind. When Jane saw Elizabeth's contemplation, she asked her to share her thoughts. Jane, though her custom was to look for the good in others, was no stranger to Kitty and Lydia's excesses. They had discussed the girls' behavior often enough to know each other's views on the subject.

"The problem remains the same as it has always been," said Elizabeth as she finished accounting for her concerns. "We are naught but elder siblings and so long as Mama sees nothing wrong with their behavior, there is little we can do."

"And Papa will not bestir himself," said Jane in a tone of commiseration.

"That may be changing," said Elizabeth. "I spoke with Papa, and he agreed it might be best to arrange for some means of instructing them."

"Do you speak of schooling?" asked Jane.

"Perhaps," replied Elizabeth. "It may be difficult, however, for even if Papa decrees it, Mama will not likely wish to separate from her favorite."

"Mama has improved of late," said Jane.

"She has," replied Elizabeth, "but she is still the same woman she has always been."

"Then the trick," said Jane, "will be to convince her of the necessity of whatever papa decides."

Elizabeth nodded her agreement, but a thought took hold of her at that moment. Jane had fallen silent, concentrating on her reflections, allowing Elizabeth to consider what had occurred to her, and the longer she ruminated on it, the more she believed that it just might work. No one in the family could influence their mother, but perhaps they could convince her by some other means.

"Jane, I think I have some notion of how it may be done."

Interested, Jane regarded her, saying: "How to convince Mama you mean?"

"I do," said Elizabeth.

For some time after they discussed Elizabeth's notion, and Jane agreed it might be possible. It would involve others, and there may be some mortification involved on that score. Against the possibility of forever worrying over the looming cloud of Lydia's behavior, however, Elizabeth thought they must seize any opportunity that presented itself. Elizabeth did not know how to go about it, but Jane offered a few suggestions. Elizabeth determined to put it to the test at the first opportunity.

"I knew you were ambitious, Caroline, but this is beyond the pale. That you would even consider such a foolhardy notion as provoking the anger of a peer of the realm is proof of your stupidity. How could you even contemplate such insanity?"

Caroline, though she was angry enough to spit nails, remained sullenly silent, glaring at Bingley as if she were the injured party, rather than the potential means of their collective downfall. Hurst sat near Bingley's chair, for once showing no trace of the hedonistic gentleman. His pitiless glare was fixed on the sister-in-law he had never truly liked. Louisa sat next to him, appearing apprehensive yet determined, having brought the matter of Caroline's ruminations to their attention. Caroline now likely considered Louisa a traitor, but Bingley could not express his gratitude to his eldest sister in warm enough terms. She may have saved them.

" You ," continued Bingley when she did not speak, his finger jutted toward her like an accusation, "who weighs everything by societal advancement would dare to carry tales about the granddaughter of an earl? Do you not understand the social pressure the earl can bring against you? Bring against us all? Do you not suppose that allowing one word of this matter to pass your lips would mean the ruination of any pretense the Bingley family possessed to any acceptance?"

When his sister still refused to respond, Bingley loomed down over her, leaning on the arms of the chair and barking: "Answer me!"

"Louisa misunderstood me," spat Caroline at last, casting a hateful glare at her sister. "I will do nothing to reveal Miss de Bourgh's misstep."

"Do you now call my wife a liar?" asked Hurst, his voice low and dangerous. "Heed me well, Caroline—in a test of who is more truthful, my vote would come down on my wife's side every time."

"As would mine," said Bingley.

Rigid in her chair, Caroline again did not deign to respond. Hurst needed no such courtesy.

"Do not be obtuse, Caroline," said Hurst. "Louisa understood exactly what you meant, for it was not ambiguous. While I cannot say if you would have been stupid enough to follow through with it, considering it at all says you misread the situation so poorly that I must wonder if the seminary, of which you boast incessantly, taught you anything."

"Since you have no defense," said Bingley, "let me make myself rightly understood. As Lady Catherine herself informed you, should any mention of this matter become known, they will ruin you in society. If it was solely your reputation to consider, I might allow you to go to it and count it your own fault when the consequences force you to flee to the north. As it concerns the entire family, however, I have no choice but to act.

"You will forget every mention of Miss de Bourgh and never even repeat her name in society, let alone pair it with any hint of events of the past few days. If I so much as suspect you are thinking of her in a manner of which I do not approve, I will bustle you into my carriage and send you on your way to Scarborough faster than you can say ‘first circles.' Am I very much clear?"

"I have no intention of breathing a word of it," growled Caroline. "May I be excused?"

"Yes, go, for I do not wish to see you at present. But heed my warning, for it is no idle threat."

Caroline disdained acknowledgment, instead standing and stalking from the room. Anger still roiled in Bingley's breast, looking for an outlet, completely unlike his usual cheery disposition. As there was no outlet, Bingley took several deep breaths to control himself, which worked better than he had hoped. Then he turned and regarded Louisa and Hurst, feeling he had better control over himself than even a moment earlier.

"Well?" asked Bingley shortly. "What do you think? I do not doubt she agreed for no more reason than to retain access to Darcy and spin her webs."

"Caroline never intended to follow through with it," defended Louisa.

"Yet the notion even occurring to her is dangerous and reprehensible," said Hurst. "You know this, Louisa."

"That is why I brought it to your attention," said Louisa. "Caroline will now be impossible, for she does not like it when I defy her."

"Louisa," said Bingley, choosing his words carefully, "I am cognizant of how you and I let Caroline have her way."

"That is the truth," snorted Hurst. "Matters might be different if the family dynamic was not as it is."

It was the point Bingley had been trying to make. "What I am trying to say is Caroline is our younger sister and must defer to us."

"Do you think she will?" asked Louisa.

"For the good of our family she must," said Bingley. "If we continue to allow her to do as she will, there may be real consequences for us all, as we have proof this very day."

Bingley sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Bringing Caroline to heel is as onerous a notion to me as it is to you. We must control her, for her ambitions have twisted her to the point of contemplating dangerous and immoral actions to realize her dreams. That must stop."

Louisa nodded and nestled in closer to her husband, who put an arm around her shoulders. Theirs was a strange relationship, for they did not make an obvious pair. Hurst cared for his wife and Louisa, though Bingley knew she agreed to his proposal because he was a gentleman of the highest standing who expressed any interest in her, leaned on him for support. As Louisa had informed them when she came to them about Caroline's potential disaster, Darcy's friendship was both a boon and a bane. Bingley would not give it up, for he esteemed his friend, but it had allowed Caroline to think better of herself and dream higher than she should.

"I shall not mention this matter to Darcy," said Bingley at length.

"Do you suppose he would act against us?" Louisa appeared frightened.

"No, I do not suppose it," replied Bingley. "Yet I do not wish to trouble him with it. This is an internal family matter, one that we must solve. Should I suspect Caroline of plotting regardless of everything we do, I shall, of course, warn him to be on his guard. But Darcy is almost always on his guard, so I do not think an additional warning now is necessary."

"That is likely for the best," nodded Hurst. "I am fond of Darcy, for he is a good sort. I know he is more properly your friend, but I would not lose his society."

"Agreed," said Bingley. "Then let us convene again should something alert us to further trouble. Until then, we should watch Caroline closely. Of greater importance, we must assert ourselves and control her."

At his brother and sister's agreement, they separated, Louisa and Hurst leaving together. Bingley remained in his study for a time, thinking of the perverseness of the situation and his recalcitrant sister. If needs must, he was prepared to deal with Caroline. Yet he did not wish to do so, for she was his flesh and blood—washing his hands of her would seem like a betrayal.

With a last sigh, Bingley departed the room, eager for some occupation. Perhaps a ride would be just the thing to help him work off some excess energy.

Summer was Elizabeth's favorite season. A lover of nature and avid walker, she could tolerate spring and autumn, except then inclement weather kept her indoors, but she detested winter as a dreary, uncouth time when she had no choice but to remain home, look out her window at the blasted land and long for warmer days. Summer was her favorite, for regardless of how hot the weather became, she always remembered winter would be upon her sooner than she wished. That simple fact reminded her to be thankful for what was before her, rather than bemoaning it if it was less than perfect.

Thus it was that she was out walking the next morning when she came across Mr. Darcy riding a tall stallion. As Elizabeth expected, the gentleman gave her a hearty greeting, asked after her family, and insisted on walking with her for a time. He was, she reflected, proving to be an ardent suitor, for all that he had only come to Hertfordshire a few days before. For a time as they walked, they spoke of inconsequential subjects, all the while Elizabeth was thinking of her discussion with Jane. After a time of this, their discourse became more interesting.

"I must wonder, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, fixing him with a teasing grin, "if you rode out today intending to meet me."

"That is shocking, Miss Bennet!" said the gentleman. "If you think so little of me to suspect such stratagems, I must consider this courting business a doomed proposition."

"Oh, I do not know about that, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth offered a coy smile, surprised at her daring. "What woman does not wish for a little illicit romance in her life?"

It was clear at once that Elizabeth had made a miscalculation, for Mr. Darcy regarded her as if devouring the very sight of her. To her good fortune, he was gentle with her, for she did not know how she might have acted had returned her tease for tease.

"If that is what you wish, then I think I might be happy to offer it. As you are conscious of my feelings, you cannot doubt I will do whatever it takes to persuade you."

"I am still shocked that your feelings survived my unkindness," blurted Elizabeth.

"Do not call it unkindness, for it was nothing less than the truth. You were wholly justified."

"Was I justified in accusing you regarding Mr. Wickham?"

Mr. Darcy shook his head. "That is not to what I refer, for we both understand much of what you said resulted from misunderstanding and his active attempts to defame me. I was speaking of my proposal."

Elizabeth looked at him quizzically. "The sentiments were the honest feelings of your heart—you have proven this since then."

"Perhaps they were," mused Mr. Darcy. "In relating those feelings, I believe I was forthright and honest, and I do not think I was in error. Where I did blunder was in my attitude. Would you believe I approached that day confident there was no reasonable excuse for you to decline? I have so much to offer in the way of material comforts—no woman in her right mind would refuse me!"

"It was no less than obvious, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth with a sigh, deciding there was nothing to be gained by obfuscating. "That you expected my acceptance was distinct in the way you approached me and your start of shock when I responded."

"There!" exclaimed the gentleman. "You see? If you were not the most generous of your sex, I do not think I would have received even the level of civility you offered in your reply. Then again, if you were not so possessed of integrity, I do not doubt you would have accepted me. Our wedding date might be approaching even now."

"And I would make your life miserable!" said Elizabeth, eager to inject a little humor back into their discussion.

"I will refer you back to my comments about your generous nature," said Mr. Darcy.

"Oh, I do not know, sir. Should the occasion demand it, I suspect I can be completely ungenerous."

Mr. Darcy chuckled and shook his head. "Then, wherever this journey takes us, I shall rely on your continued liberality and your forgiveness should I err again."

"Do you mean to remain long?" asked Elizabeth, feeling playful again.

"As long as it takes," said Mr. Darcy, giving no sign he was at all affected by her humor—rather, he appeared to be completely serious. "If you do not irrevocably decide against me, I believe I shall be content to wait, even if you take ten years to decide."

"I think, Mr. Darcy, that I can be more decisive than to dither for ten years."

"That is a relief, Miss Elizabeth." Mr. Darcy grinned. "While I would wait for ten years, I do not wish to wait. I hope you will accept me before the end of summer."

Elizabeth could not help but feel a little flattered, for what woman in her right mind would remain unaffected by such sentiments? The feeling soon gave way to playfulness yet again.

"What of Miss Bingley? Though you wish to court me , I cannot but apprehend that she wishes to court you ."

The good mood left the gentleman in an instant, leaving behind disgust. "There is nothing that would ever induce me to accept Miss Bingley. I never liked her, and her behavior yesterday only increased my loathing."

Sensing he was speaking of matters beyond the visit the previous day and remembering Miss Bingley's knowing sneer as she departed, Elizabeth asked after his meaning. Mr. Darcy did not hesitate to inform her of the previous day's events after their return to Netherfield. When Elizabeth heard her misunderstanding, she shook her head in exasperation, not only for Miss Bingley's single-minded pursuit of this man but also for Lydia's lack of caution. Elizabeth would have words for her sister when she returned to Longbourn; her father would not be happy with her loose tongue either.

"I offer my apologies, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth when he had related all, "but notwithstanding your excellent friend, I have never met a more contemptible woman than Miss Bingley. Her utter stupidity astounds me. She must be beyond all sense and decency to consider using such information for her ends."

"Rather," said Mr. Darcy, "I suspect she thought she could act with impunity, as your family is not prominent. She had not counted on her assumption being erroneous, nor had she considered the possibility that we might support you even if the escapade with Wickham had involved your sister."

"I thank you for your support, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, "even if I am skeptical of Miss Bingley's influence being sufficient to ruin us in society."

Mr. Darcy sighed. "It is not so much influence as simply the interest of the gossips. As your family is little known, talk would likely die down quickly. Whether it would restart should you make an appearance thereafter I cannot say."

Elizabeth nodded. "Now that we have spoken of Miss Bingley and my youngest sister's imprudence, there is another matter I would like to discuss with you."

"Concerning one or both you mentioned?" asked Mr. Darcy.

"Lydia," clarified Elizabeth, "though Kitty must fall into the same category. Were you aware the colonel's wife invited Lydia to Brighton for the summer?"

"I was not," said Mr. Darcy, understanding the implications at once. "If you will forgive my observation, I never considered Mrs. Forster to be a sensible woman."

"No apologies are necessary, Mr. Darcy," replied Elizabeth, "for I cannot agree more. Fortunately, together with the events surrounding Mr. Wickham, I persuaded my father that Lydia was not prepared to participate in such amusement and keep her good sense. Lydia is far from sanguine about it, but she appears to be resigned."

"That is good," nodded Mr. Darcy.

"The remaining issue," continued Elizabeth, "is Lydia's continued behavior. Jane and I spoke on the subject last night, and we agreed that to keep her from Brighton is not enough to make her sensible. We must ensure that Lydia learns proper behavior and understands why it is necessary."

"Again, a sensible notion," said Mr. Darcy.

"The problem with that is my mother was not born a gentlewoman and does not see the need to improve them. My father agrees something must be done, but..."

Elizabeth paused and gave him a helpless smile. "My father is a good man, but he finds it easier to allow my mother the responsibility of raising his daughters, and she is, unfortunately, not equipped to see to it properly."

"Which brings us to the reason you brought this to my attention."

"It does," agreed Elizabeth. "Jane and I thought there may be a way to educate my mother in such a way that she learns what she must but does not take offense to her daughters attempting to instruct her."

With that, Elizabeth explained her idea, and Mr. Darcy, after listening intently, responded with a growing grin. Relieved, Elizabeth smirked along with him, not having been certain in advance whether he would agree.

"That is quite interesting, Miss Elizabeth, and it just might work," said he. "Let me discuss it with Anne and Fitzwilliam. Between the three of us, I am certain we can determine a way to proceed."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

"Not at all," said the gentleman. "Should I persuade you as I am determined I shall, this will redound to my benefit too."

Elizabeth nodded, and they continued to walk, Elizabeth feeling at ease with Mr. Darcy's agreement. While she could not state with surety how it would all play out, she was more confident about the possibility of her sisters' reformation than she had been in many months.

At length, Mr. Darcy stopped and turned to face her. "This has been a most welcome meeting, Miss Elizabeth, but I must return to Netherfield soon. Before I go, I would ask a most important question of you."

Butterflies fluttered within Elizabeth's midsection, though she knew there was little chance of him asking that question again so soon. Thus, she forced such feelings away and waited for him to speak.

"Fitzwilliam received word from his father this morning—he has arranged for Wickham's transportation to the penal colony. We will depart two days hence to escort him to London and the ship awaiting him.

"When I return, I mean to escort my sister to Netherfield, as Bingley has offered an invitation to her to join us. I should like to introduce Georgiana to your acquaintance and that of your sisters at the first opportunity, if that is agreeable."

"Of course, it is!" exclaimed Elizabeth, the feeling of being flattered again suffusing her breast. "We will be happy to make her acquaintance. I only wonder if your sister is ready to meet girls such as my youngest sisters."

Mr. Darcy laughed, a tension Elizabeth had not noticed releasing him from its grip. "Georgiana has informed me, both by letter and before I departed London, of her eagerness to be introduced to so many agreeable ladies. She is quite anticipating it."

"Then we shall not disappoint her. If you bring her around, we will welcome her with open arms."

"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth."

With that and a few more words of farewell, Mr. Darcy bowed over her hand and mounted his horse, kicking it into a canter soon thereafter. Soon, man and steed proceeded around a corner and left Elizabeth's sight, though Mr. Darcy turned back to regard her and wave several times before he was gone.

Now alone, Elizabeth turned her footsteps back to Longbourn in the distance, considering the day's meeting and what it meant for her future. The little niggling thought in the back of her mind told her that Mr. Darcy had made an excellent start in his campaign to alter her feelings. If he continued in such a manner, Elizabeth could not imagine he would not be successful in the end.