Chapter 16

“P apa, you asked Colonel Fitzwilliam to send me to see you?” Elizabeth asked tentatively. She had a feeling it was connected to Mr Darcy’s letter of contrition, and until recently, her stubborn refusal to let go of her prejudices against the man.

“Not to rub your nose in where you have been in error, Lizzy, but I want you to read this missive with me. Just like I want your sisters to learn from their past missteps, yes even Lydia, the same holds true for you. You need to learn some humility and seeing tangible proof of your errors will help in that.” Bennet paused as he cogitated for some moments. “It is mostly my fault that you became one who would not admit she was wrong.”

Bennet saw the way Lizzy’s eyebrows moved together, as they did when she attempted to puzzle something out. “I made the mistake of choosing, and distinguishing a favourite. Both your mother and I failed in that respect, and we are determined not to repeat the errors of the past. Not only did I give you more notice than the rest of your sisters combined, but I also always told you how much more intelligent you were than most—certainly more so than your mother and sisters. That, I believe, created in you the propensity to think you were always correct while ignoring the opinions of those you believed had less intelligence than yourself.” Bennet sat back and interlaced his fingers over his belly and waited for his second daughter to absorb his words.

As much as Elizabeth wanted to protest vociferously against her father’s assertions about her, she could not. What he had said was, in fact, true. Even if she had not considered her father’s part in the forming of her character, Elizabeth had come to many of the same conclusions on her own. It still smarted to realise she had been wrong, she reckoned that was part of learning to be more humble. It was not the most pleasant of feelings, but who should feel it if not her? The most important amendments to her character she needed to make was to learn from her errors and make the relevant corrections. To not just pay lip service and go back to the same way of doing things.

Seeing his daughter had schooled her features after coming to some sort of decision, Bennet stood and made his way around his desk, the still sealed letter in hand. “Come, Lizzy, we shall sit on the settee.”

The two windows gave a good view of the park, below them, where the settee was located, was one of the only spaces in the study that had neither a door nor bookcases. The grass was brown now and the trees bare, but in the spring the vista would improve once again.

Bennet sat and his daughter seated herself next to him. “Are you ready, Lizzy?”

“I am, Papa.”

Assured by his second daughter, Bennet broke the Darcy seal and unfolded the letter. He held it away from himself so they could both read it easily.

2 November 1811

Darcy House, London

Mr Bennet,

As my cousin, who you have met by now as evidenced by this letter being handed to you, plans to depart London at first light on the 4th of November, and I will not write a letter on the sabbath, I sat and put pen to paper today.

Where do I begin to make my amends? I suppose the beginning is the best place, and that, for my association with you and your family, would be the assembly in Meryton. I was not in a good mood (I believe you have been made aware of the major reason why that was) and it had not helped that when I said I would remain at Netherfield Park that evening, a certain writer of a lie filled letter said she would also stay. I had no choice but to go; remaining alone with that woman was insupportable.

I do not tell you the preceding to mitigate the ungentlemanlike way I insulted Miss Elizabeth. That I had not even looked at her, and that the comment was not aimed at her does not change the seriousness of my offence to your daughter. The truth is it did not take me long to see that Miss Elizabeth is one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.

Until that instant Elizabeth had clung to her belief that Mr Darcy looked at her to find fault. But that could not be true if he was writing his true opinion, could it? She was aware, based on the comment he had made while Jane had been recovering at Netherfield Park, that Mr Darcy found disguise abhorrent. She had allowed her pricked vanity to colour every opinion of hers with regards to the handsome man from Derbyshire. Both Charlotte and Janey had told her she was wrong, but she had rejected their advice out of hand. Elizabeth shook her head at her previous wrongheaded thinking. Her eyes returned to the page.

If that was not bad enough, thanks to my improper pride, I refused to consider begging the pardon of one who (in my former opinion) was so far below me. I put the incident out of my mind and was only reminded of it with your letter, Mr Bennet. I wondered at the particular wording, until my rudeness and what I had said, came flooding back to me. You had every right to take me to task for my words to your daughter.

I have no excuses. Wanting Bingley not to importune me to dance was not a reason to say what I did, so I beg your and Miss Elizabeth’s pardons.

I know how strange my behaviour must have seemed to Miss Elizabeth when she was at Netherfield Park to care for Miss Bennet. She must have thought me insane, one minute speaking to her, the next standoffish and saying nothing. I had convinced myself I was raising expectations about which I could do nothing. What arrogance on my part! I realise now, Miss Elizabeth was never flirting with me as I had thought. She was arguing with me to actually show her dislike of my person. As such, I need to beg her pardon for the way I acted when she was being hosted at my friend’s leased estate.

I used to count myself the consummate gentleman, but one cannot hold that title and sit back and allow one person to attack another with no provocation. To my shame, I did nothing while Miss Bingley flung barbs at Miss Elizabeth almost constantly, and she defended herself admirably, never lowering herself to the same level as Miss Bingley. That too was my fault. I had made a comment about your daughter’s fine eyes in Miss Bingley’s hearing the night we were all at Lucas Lodge. Although she never had a snowball’s chance of surviving the fires of hell of my ever offering for her, that never stopped her feeling possessive of my person, and attacking anyone who she perceived as a rival. My unwitting comment led directly to the disgusting way Miss Bingley treated Miss Elizabeth. So for that I am eternally sorry.

The next apology I owe your daughter stems from the night of the ball at Netherfield Park. Thanks to my thinking myself above everyone else in the area, when Miss Elizabeth mentioned Wickham’s name, rather than explain myself, I became petulant and left her on the dance floor without escorting her back to her family and friends.

It was at the ball I noticed a difference in both yourself and Mrs Bennet, but my blindness to the worth of you and your neighbours, did not allow me to see the truth. I must apologise to all in the area, your family most especially, for my rude and abhorrent behaviour while I was in the neighbourhood.

That leads me to your taking me to task for not issuing a warning about Wickham before I departed Netherfield Park. My intention was to make the merchants, and anyone to whom he owed money, whole once the profligate wastrel moved on leaving debts behind him as is his wont. That does not make up for the fact I said nothing, made no move to protect the young girls and ladies of the area from that scourge. I realise now using my sister as an excuse to not move against the man was so much nonsense. When I admitted knowing of Wickham’s whereabouts to Colonel Fitzwilliam, he did not mince his words in pointing out the fallacies in my former thinking. It was then I was finally able to see the error of my ways. By cleaning up after the libertine, all I was doing was enabling him to continue hurting people.

Although I never took any action on my intention, in the spirit of honesty, I must admit thanks to a comment Sir William made at the ball regarding expectations my friend was raising with your eldest daughter, I observed them together during the supper set. I determined that I saw no more affection in Miss Bennet’s looks for Bingley than with others. I had believed she would be instructed to marry him even if she was not so inclined.

Your actions, Mr Bennet, in first removing your youngest daughters from the ball, and then sending Bingley away when he came to claim the final dance with Miss Bennet, which would have been the third together at the ball, showed me how wrong my conjectures had been regarding your family. It is what convinced me to keep my opinions to myself, even if Bingley asked. When we discussed his feelings for Miss Bennet, I told him to follow his heart.

Now that I am able to see with clarity, I own as we are both gentlemen farmers, we are in fact equal. I am doing all I can to cast off my improper pride. The amendments I need to make to my character will not be the work of a day, and I am sure there will be stumbles along the way, but I will keep at it.

All I can do is wish you and your family God Bless and hope you all remain in good health.

With regards,

F.A. Darcy

“Well Lizzy?” Bennet asked when he noticed his daughter looked up from the pages. “What think you of Mr Darcy now?”

“He is an honourable man; one I have misjudged in the worst way. Yes, as he admitted his behaviour was prideful, but he at least apologised. If I ever see him again, I also will need to make my amends for the way I behaved,” Elizabeth concluded. “He was correct, I was not flirting with him, rather I was doing whatever I could to annoy him, and that too was bad behaviour. In fact, it was worse. Some of the things he did, like the slight at the assembly were unintentional, while I intended to wound him. With my much-vaunted intelligence, I allowed my prejudices to rule so rather than seeing all the holes and contradictions in Mr Wickham’s story, I lapped it up like a thirsty dog drinks water. Papa, I thank you for forcing me to face my failures.”

“As long as you learn from them, Lizzy dear, just as all of us need to learn.” Bennet stood and kissed his daughter on her forehead. “Do you need some time to collect yourself, or are you ready to join me in returning to the drawing room?”

“Thank you Papa, but I am well. I will not remain here.” Elizabeth stood and patted her dress into place. She knew she still had amends to make to her mother and sisters.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

While sitting and spending time with those in the drawing room, Fitzwilliam had spent most of his time in conversation with Misses Mary and Catherine. Mrs Bennet was watching indulgently while Miss Bennet and Bingley were lost in their own world of love.

When he had realised Miss Kitty’s name was, in fact, Catherine, he had almost guffawed. Not at her, but at the thought of how Aunt Catherine would explode with anger if anyone called her Aunt Kitty. The second to youngest Bennet, Miss Kitty—he had not met the youngest who had wasted herself on Wickham—was by far the quietest of the four Bennet sisters he had met.

Miss Mary, who William had described as plain, bookish, moralising, and introverted seemed to be anything but. The Colonel did not understand it, but he felt an affinity to Miss Mary. She was the first woman to whom he had felt any sort of serious attraction. Looking at her made Richard Fitzwilliam remember a conversation he had had with his father recently.

His father had summoned him to Matlock House, and the butler had shown him directly into the study. His father had been seated with a dejected look on his face as he swirled some liquor in a tumbler.

“You asked to see me, Father?” the Colonel asked.

His father’s head had snapped up. “Richard, thank you for answering my summons in a timely manner. I will not beat around the bush. You need to find a woman and marry her sooner rather than later.”

“But Father,” the Colonel protested, “surely Andy will marry one day and have an heir.” He had known the lie of his words as soon as they passed his lips.

“Ha,” his father had scoffed, “Andrew is lost to us. In addition to everything else, he is addicted to opium. We both know the longer he imbibes the drug, the less of an effect it has, leading to larger and larger doses, until one day…”

“Please do not say it, Father. I have seen more death and destruction in a few years than a thousand men would see in a lifetime, but I cannot allow myself to think that my brother, who used to be such a sweet boy, is lost to us with only one eventual outcome,” the Colonel had bemoaned. “If only there was a way to save him.”

“If it were only the addiction, it may have been possible, but your brother suffers from the French disease as well. The doctors tell us it has progressed past any hope of recovery, even were they to attempt to administer mercury treatments.”

“I will keep my eyes open. If I find a lady for whom I have some feelings, I will endeavour to form an alliance with an eye toward marriage.”

“Richard, you know with Andrew’s impending loss you will need to resign and sell out do you not? General Atherton has already been told you cannot be sent out of England and into battle again,” his father had revealed.

Suddenly Richard had understood why he could not receive a straight answer from his General about when he would be posted back to the Peninsula.

He was snapped out of remembering the conversation when Miss Mary asked him, possibly not for the first time, how he would like his tea. He remembered at some point he would need to speak to William about what his father had told him. So no, the woman he chose, if she accepted him, would not need to be an heiress.

The last thing he thought he would find in this area was a lady to whom he was attracted. Yet, here he was admiring Miss Mary Bennet. He was no young pup who would chase after the first pretty lady. Rather he suspected he and Miss Mary would be compatible on many levels. That was of course if she could ever be interested in an old soldier. He was getting ahead of himself. The first step was to get to know her and for her to know him.

Any thoughts of his future were chased away when Mr Bennet and Miss Elizabeth returned to the drawing room. The latter looked rather chastened. Was it something William had written or had her father taken her to task? Unless they spoke of what occurred, he would have no way of knowing.

“Mr Darcy made a full and sincere apology,” Bennet announced, “I for one have forgiven him.”

“As have I,” Elizabeth added.

“In that case, all of us,” Fanny looked at Jane, Mary, and Kitty, all of whom nodded, “forgive him as well.”

“Miss Elizabeth, do you have any questions for me?” Fitzwilliam enquired.

“No thank you, Colonel, your cousin, in fact, was most comprehensive in his amends.” Elizabeth turned to address her mother and sisters, “I need to beg all your pardons for my pig-headed belief in the infallibility of my opinions. There were so many times I discounted what I was told, and I can now see I was wrong.” Elizabeth looked at Jane in particular.

“Lizzy, you know we have spoken of how we have all erred, so we need to move forward. If you need to hear it again, you are forgiven without reservation,” Fanny granted sincerely.

“I forgive you for anything you think you have done,” Mary allowed.

“Me too,” Kitty added.

Jane stood and pulled Elizabeth into a hug. “Of course you are forgiven, not that I ever held anything against you in any case,” she said softly next to her sister’s ear.

“And if you had ever done anything to offend me, I would offer my pardon as well,” Fitzwilliam quipped.

“What he said,” Bingley grinned.

In the end, Bingley and the Colonel accepted invitations to remain for dinner. The former never left his fiancée’s side, while the latter made sure to give attention to everyone, but Miss Mary received the most of his time.

Bennet did not miss Fitzwilliam’s fascination with his middle daughter. It was too early to ask him his intentions, but he would keep an eye on the situation.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

For the first two or three days since his lashing, mercifully Wickham had been senseless of the world around him. Mr Jones had just left after applying more salve to what Wickham had been told were angry open cuts on his back from the flesh torn away by the crack of the cat.

He was lying on his stomach, as he would until his back had begun to heal to the point his wounds were no longer raw and open. He was thinking about his bad luck at being called to account when he heard footfalls which stopped at the bars of his cell door. He lifted his head and saw the person of Colonel Forster staring at him with no goodwill. “By the by, Colonel Fitzwilliam is in Meryton.”

Wickham began to shake with fear. If Fitzwilliam was here, it did not bode well for himself, things would be even worse than they currently were.

“You will no longer be cashiered out of the militia. Instead, you are a private, and when you are healthy, someone will escort you to your new brothers in arms. I have a feeling you will enjoy the regular army.” With a malevolent gleam in his eyes, Forster turned and left.

A petrified man was left to think about what would happen to him. It seemed there were fates worse than debtor’s prison.