Page 23

28th December 1812, Saturday

Thomas Bennet slumped against his arm chair, blood draining from his face as he regarded the four people across from him.

Lydia, his youngest child, was sitting in front of him on the other end of the desk and crying soundlessly even as she tried to keep her chin up and back straight.

Mary, who was sitting next to her sister, wore a grim expression almost identical to the one Mr Darcy sported standing behind her.

At least Lizzy, standing next to her beau, looked as shocked as he himself felt.

She seemed on the verge of swooning, truly, and Darcy, upon noticing this, for Bennet was now at least fairly certain that the young man always had Elizabeth in his sights whenever the two of them were in one room, very quickly dragged a fairly heavy Chesterfield chair that sat across from the fireplace on the opposite side of the room, and placed it just behind Elizabeth, guiding her to it.

The room was heavy with silence as all the uninformed members of their little group digested the information.

Outside, Mrs Bennet, Mrs Gardiner and Mr Gardiner had gone over to Meryton to pay a visit to their sister, Mrs Phillips.

Kitty and Jane had taken over the care of the Gardiner’s kids from Lizzy and were entertaining the children with stories from Aesop’s Fables .

When first Mary and Lydia had entered his bookroom, being closely followed by Lizzy and Mr Darcy, Bennet had been bemused but ready to be entertained.

Now, a quarter of an hour into the meeting and he would not be surprised if he had lost the ability to laugh for the rest of his life.

Before he could even think of what to say in the face of this catastrophe, Elizabeth gathered her bearings,

“And you-” She was looking at Mary, confusion, dread, anguish and concern mixing and moulding in her fine, expressive eyes and giving them a heart-aching quality that was quite beautiful in its melancholy.

It hurt to look at her, and yet Bennet found he could not quite look away, “-you wrote to Mr Darcy about this?”

Her tone was not quite accusatory, and yet it was not simply a query either.

Darcy placed a hand on her shoulder, “I am very glad she did. I am to be her brother. It is the very least she can expect from me.”

Elizabeth swallowed something difficult, then looked up to meet Darcy’s gaze.

Whatever he saw in her eyes made Darcy clench his jaw, and he said against gritted teeth in a voice that was still somehow suffused with gentle affection, “I shall not forsake you, Elizabeth. Not when I finally have you. You will not ask it of me.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, looked very much on the verge of breaking into sobs, but instead she shook her head and started, “Georgiana-”

Darcy cut her off, “-could very easily have been in Miss Lydia’s position herself. Last summer, she very nearly ran away with Wickham to Gretna Green. Only providence saved her reputation.” Providence and a wealthy brother.

Darcy silently added to himself, which is exactly what Miss Lydia needed herself.

When Elizabeth still looked like she might argue, Darcy curtailed her with a look.

It was only a sign of her own distress that she did not ignore his high-handed behaviour to argue anyway.

If he were not surrounded by her family, he would have liked very much to shut her up with a kiss lest she continue with her self-sacrificial drivel.

As it was, he only had words, and he had never been very good with them, “ You are not as selfless as your sister Jane, Elizabeth, nor I as altruistic as Bingley. When it comes to marrying you, I cannot care what the rest of the world has to say about it. Can you say otherwise?”

The two of them looked at each other for a long moment, then Lizzy bit her lip to hide a very inappropriate smile, “No.” She whispered.

Darcy, feeling no such compunction, gave her a wide grin that unfurled her own expression, and then the two of them were there, smiling besottedly at each other with nary a care.

Bennet, though touched, cleared his throat when their interlude lasted a little too long, and the two lovebirds almost startled at the sound, having very conveniently forgotten the rest of the world.

“As moving as your steadfastness to my daughter is, Mr Darcy, it still does not explain why my Mary wrote to you instead of coming to me.” He turned to Mary, and was not as good as his daughter at keeping the accusation at bay, “What could you have been thinking, child?”

Mary squirmed in place, but it was Lydia who answered, “I made her promise, papa.” She said in a hushed tone.

Bennet blinked, “What?”

Everything about Lydia that was once boisterous and loud seemed to have given way to a kind of despondency that prevented her from lifting her head or from even speaking in a volume louder than whisper,

“I made her promise to not tell anyone. You, mama, my sisters, or the Gardiners.” She gulped, “I was afraid. And I- I thought I could fix it. ”

Mary reached out to take one of Lydia’s hands at those words, and Lydia grabbed the support with both of her hands, gripping her fingers tightly.

This show of sisterly affection between the two was more than a little out of the way, and Bennet was distracted for a moment before coming back to himself,

“Fix it? In what possible way could you fix this?”

Lydia started crying again at the harshness in his tone and it was Mary who answered, “It was last Sunday, papa. My mother and sisters had gone over to Mrs Phillips to pay her a visit and you were in your bookroom. When Lydia had told- had told Mr Wickham about the babe on the night of Lizzy’s engagement dinner, he had-” Mary closed her eyes tightly, for it was in all the ways horrible to even think about, let alone say the words out loud, “He had suggested Lyddie might lose the child if she threw herself down the stairs. I caught her before she could attempt it.”

A silence as oppressive as an iron fist reigned across the small bookroom.

“Oh, Lyddie.” Elizabeth broke first, her words more of a broken sob than anything else.

Darcy, the infallible man, had paled, and looked in turns both furious at the words of his once childhood friend and devastated by the actions of his future sister.

A part of him had hoped to solve this conundrum by paying Wickham to marry Lydia.

He could no longer consider that an option.

No woman deserved a man as heartless as George Wickam, certainly not a girl as naive as Miss Lydia.

Mr Bennet felt his heart stop at his daughter's words. Last Sunday. He had spent the entire day after church in his study except for the time he had spent in the dining room for meals. He had been a floor below and two doors down from where his daughter had been deliberately trying to harm herself and he had had no idea. For his own sake, and for the sake of his own sanity, he did not further ask why neither of them had thought to come to him. Mrs Bennet might be too flighty and foolish to bring into confidence in matters of such delicacy, but he, with his own inattentiveness and propensity to laugh in the face of other’s adversity, was no better a confidant.

That his own daughters had felt it more prudent to instead write to a man they hadn’t known before a couple of months, who was not yet family, in a request for aid, he tried his best not to think much about. Bennet did not think his ego could survive the hit.

“Mr Darcy.” Bennet raised his eyes to the man standing across from him with much difficulty. The young man towered over most people, but being the only person standing in the room, he looked particularly dominating to Bennet, whose own legs, he feared, would not hold his weight if he tried a similar feat. He wished Darcy would sit down, but all the chairs in the room were occupied, and Bennet did not think the man would accept it, if he offered him the footstool that made a pair with the Chesterfield chair.

“Sir.”

“I think my girls have made their decision on who they want solving their problems.” The path of least resistance, isn’t that the way it always goes? his own conscience taunted him, but Bennet swatted it away. Grief over his own impotence could come later, “And considering you are determined to marry my daughter, I can only assume you have a solution for this mess.”

Darcy assessed him for a long moment, and it took everything in Mr Bennet to not look away. The young man nodded, “I have spent the last three days thinking about little else. There are a couple of avenues we could explore depending on Miss Lydia’s preference.”

Lydia’s head shot up at her name, and she looked at Darcy with both confusion and hope shining in her eyes, “My preference? ”

“Her preference?” Bennet could not keep his doubts out of his tone, “Sir, if anything, has not this incident shown us that perhaps Lydia is too young for her preferences and ideas to be taken into consideration in so delicate a matter?”

Darcy shook his head, “Be that as it may, the child will still belong to her.” At this, he turned to face the young woman, and could not help but think of Georgiana. Lydia was a few months younger than his own sister, but in appearance, there were many similarities. Both women were taller and stouter than ladies usually their age. Both were fair of hair and eyes and both were left defenceless by their guardians to be seduced by George Wickham. Georgiana had suffered a broken heart at the hands of that man which was still yet in recovery. Miss Lydia would be left with a much more physical reminder of her own folly. If she wished it.

“Miss Lydia,” He kept his voice deliberately soft, deliberately slow, “When the babe comes, would you like to keep it?” The girl bit her lip, and Darcy was reminded by her actions, of a spooked animal trying to trust again, “If you give it away, you could, perhaps in time, get married to a respectable man. But, if you kept it, your options would be severely diminished. There are not many gentlemen of any standing who would marry an unmarried woman who comes with a reminder of her… past.”

He had tried to keep his words gentle, though by the way Miss Lydia started silently crying again, he hadn't succeeded.

Still, in time, she sniffed and brushed the tears away from her face with a handkerchief he offered and managed to answer, “If I could, I would like to keep her.”

She had grown attached to the child already, despite her own knowledge perhaps, and despite the accident she had been willing to undergo for the sake of her family.

Darcy could not blame her for her heart.

He nodded ,

“Then you shall keep her.” Referring to the babe as a girl earned him a tremulous smile and Darcy smiled back, trying to suffuse it with as much reassurance as he felt.

He turned to face the room.

Spending the past three days changing horses and riding towards Hertfordshire like the devil himself was behind him had given Darcy a lot of time to think.

To come up with plans and contingencies, and back ups to those plans and contingencies.

His natural position in the world was such that he was the most comfortable when he was leading a room full of people.

And though this was an unprecedented situation for him, he found himself confident and at ease as he detailed their next steps.

“I hadn’t known when I left for Matlock, in what condition I would find my cousin Richard, or how long it would take me to come back. It was the reason why we did not set a date for the wedding.” He asked Elizabeth, “I have applied for a special licence on my way here. How do you feel about getting married as soon as it is possible?”

For the first time since entering the bookroom, Elizabeth gave him that brilliant smile that had once made him fall in love with her, “I would like nothing better.”

This time, Darcy turned to Mr Bennet, “Sir?”

Bennet shrugged, “I have given you my blessing to marry at your leisure. I have no objection.”

Darcy nodded, “Assuming there are no other obstacles, and if we marry in London, I can procure the licence as quickly as sometime next week. After the wedding, it would not look very odd for Elizabeth to take a sister with her when we remove to Pemberley. I have a property in Derbyshire, a cottage near the Peak District but sufficiently out of the way of the local community. The house originally belonged to my grandmother. She loved the peaks and spent months at a time staying in her cottage, anonymous to the society there. It would be an idyllic place for Miss Lydia to spend her confinement at, and perhaps, if the locality suits her, she could continue living there until such a time passes before she is reintegrated into society.”

“But-” Elizabeth hesitated, “What will we do about Mr Wickham? If he tells people that Lydia is with child and then she is not seen for a conveniently long period of time, it will only give credence to his tale.”

Darcy nodded grimly, “I will deal with Wickham. It is high time I called in his debts. It will still not stop his stories. People in Meryton will probably believe him, and the news might leak into London, but without any of us in town, it will not remain so prominent for long. Another scandal will overshadow this one as scandals always tend to. In Derbyshire, Wickham’s word means nothing. Next year, when we come to London for the season, we will have Georgiana and Miss Lydia come out together. The babe will have to be taken care of by someone else temporarily during that time, but if Miss Lydia debuts into society with confidence and a laugh for every rumour, I believe we will be able to withstand the speculation and the gossip fairly unscathed.”

Nobody said a word as they all thought through Darcy’s plan.

Mary cleared her throat,

“I would like to come too.” She said, “I will stay with Lydia if I can. And when she has to go to London, I will care for the babe.”

“Mary...” Lydia gasped, touched and unbelieving.

Mary gave her little sister a soft, sad smile.

Darcy nodded, but then to make sure she knew what she was giving up, added, “It will be some years before Miss Lydia will be able to return to Meryton. Like many women in her situation before, she would have to don the title of a widow. It will also be unlikely for you to be able to marry during that time. ”

“Yes, I am aware.” Mary nodded.

Unlike her older sisters, who had always vowed to marry for love, and her younger sisters, who had always vowed to marry first, Mary herself had never given marriage too much thought.

As a devout christian, she knew it was her duty to marry a good, pious man and raise good, pious children.

Beyond those two strictures however, she had given the where, when and how of matrimony and motherhood very minimal thought.

She was in no hurry to marry, nor did she have any ambitions for a wealthy, or influential husband.

She would rather spend the coming years caring for her little sister and the babe that was to come.

“Very well, then.” Darcy turned to the girls’ father.

Mr Bennet had listened to all of them silently.

And though Darcy could not accuse the older man of inattention, once a solution to the crisis in front of him had been proposed, the older gentleman had become decidedly relaxed, “Mr Bennet, if you have no objections-”

“No. No, I do not have any.” Bennet replied, “But, I do have a stipulation to add.” Lydia gave him a wide eyed look, Elizabeth looked just as afraid.

Mary and Darcy’s jaws clenched, as if preparing themselves for a blow.

Bennet almost laughed.

“Or perhaps, stipulation was not the right word to use. A request. I would have your mother and the rest of your sisters remain in ignorance. Fanny is the very antithesis of discretion and Kitty’s tongue is just as loose. Jane, with her goodness and delicate sensibilities, will not be able to handle information so crude. We may inform the Gardiners and perhaps Mr Phillip if we think that they can help, but Mrs Phillips is too much like my own wife to be trusted.”

Darcy looked grim.

He could not condone the way Mr Bennet tried to skirt responsibility.

Darcy understood keeping things from young ladies for the sake of their own good.

He had attempted to protect Georgiana’s delicate sensibilities from the evil that was George Wickham and all he had ended up achieving was injuring them even more.

Mrs Bennet was not a young lady.

She was a mother of five.

That she could not be trusted from bandying about her own child’s shame to the rest of the neighbourhood was a ludicrous thought and yet none of her own daughters disagreed.

Darcy looked to Elizabeth only to find her already looking back at him.

She nodded.

And because he trusted her, he nodded back.

Their course was decided .