Chapter 15
Elizabeth
T he next morning, Lizzie was awakened by shouts from downstairs. She wrapped a robe about herself and hurried toward the sound. The shouts sounded more like hysterics, and she rounded the corner to see Kitty producing the surprisingly loud agitations. But Lizzie forgot all about her sister’s noise when she saw the cause.
Lydia.
Her hair was mussed, parts standing in knotted messes and parts flattened to the side of her head. The dark circles under her eyes made her expression seem even more hollow, but her eyes were dark, her face drawn, and no sound came from her mouth. In truth, she hardly looked at any of them.
Lizzie approached. “Lydia?” Her voice was quiet, gentle, but Lydia jumped.
“Hm?”
“Welcome home, sister.” Lizzie pulled her into an embrace. For a moment, she was stiff and then she relaxed into Lizzie. Her breath came out as a sigh and she rested her face into Lizzie’s shoulder. “It is good to be home.”
Lizzie held her a moment more and then their mother’s shrieks and shouts from upstairs interrupted them all. “Lydia!! Oh, my baby is home! Come here this minute. Have you brought us a handsome husband?”
Lizzie winced.
Their father stepped across the threshold. He looked tired and worn. The glance he spared Lizzie was brief but grim.
Lydia turned from them and stepped slowly up the stairs.
Kitty followed, her expression uncertain.
When at last they were alone, Lizzie turned to her father. “What has happened?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Enough for me to sit in solitude for weeks on end. I fear I deserve it. Though, I deserve to be endlessly tormented. To think she is returned with so little bother or trouble to any of us; I cannot fathom how it was accomplished.”
“And her well-being? Is she…well?” She wished to ask if she’d been truly compromised, if she had been hurt?
But her father shook his head. “Only she knows the answer to that question. Wickham promises that he did nothing to her.”
Lizzie breathed out her relief and nearly fell against the wall. “Can it be so?”
“It appears to be.”
“Then perhaps, just for a moment, we might feel hope that the information is contained. The Lucases were here, and the missus is determined to defend Lydia’s name and all others. The story is that Wickham left alone.”
Her father nodded. “Then there truly is hope for us all, isn’t there?” He looked so forlorn, so without hope that she rushed to his side. “Father?”
“I am merely unhappy with my own behavior. I will indeed be more careful with you all.”
Lizzie could only nod, for she agreed that stronger care needed to be taken and she would be happy for her father to take a greater interest in all their lives.
A servant arrived with the post on a platter.
Her father lifted a small stack. “This is more than I expected.” He filed through the envelopes and stopped on one, his eyebrow raised. “To what do we owe the pleasure of a correspondence with Mr. Collins? Is your dear Charlotte Lucas well?”
“I believe so. They’ve been married but a few short months, but she’s already sequestered a room for her own particular use. They dine at Rosings Park regularly and she seems almost as enamored with their patron, the esteemed Lady Catherine De Bourgh, as is her husband.” Lizzie shrugged, thinking briefly of the man’s odious marriage proposal to her before he left to ask her best friend. “I’d never be happy there, but she seems to be so.”
“No Lizzie, you need a man you can respect, love even, who challenges you, excites your mind.”
Her father kept talking about men who read and intelligent conversation, all things Lizzie had heard before and greatly valued, but all she could think about in that moment was Mr. Darcy. He’d proven to be everything her father was describing. But the different accounts of him were quite puzzling to her. His comment about her being handsome enough, his inability to even remember her or her family from his visit to Netherfield, so many things, his interference with Jane and then with Mary… He was not at all what he seemed. She knew that to be true. But when she stood near him, when he looked into her eyes, she could only see sincerity and true caring. She didn’t know what to make of him.
And now, she regretted deeply telling him of Lydia’s scandal. Now that it might well be soon forgotten, he knew. And no matter what she thought of him, he would surely wish to have nothing more to do with her or the family. She sighed. Thoughts of Mr. Darcy reminded her that someone should be notifying Jane and Mary of the good news. She summoned a servant and wrote a quick missive to her sisters. “Please deliver this at once.” She added a suggestion that she tell Charles immediately of the good news so that perhaps he might feel even more free to associate once again with their family. Though, from the looks of things, he had never deserted them.
Her father had opened up the letter from Mr. Collins and read it with a frown. “There is a portion of this for you from Charlotte.” He took out a folded bit and handed it to her but she glanced over the page from Mr. Collins first to see what caused her father’s furrowed brow.
Mr. Collins waxed eloquently about all things Rosings Park. He discussed at length Charlotte’s good fortune in marrying him, describing their situation in great detail. Then he closed with the statement, “We were saddened to hear of the recent escapades of cousin Lydia. With any luck she is returned safely though we are saddened that things for her and your family by association can never be the same. We are distantly at your service. Charlotte still wishes to receive you and because the details are vague at best, Lady Catherine has given her approval but she will want a full accounting when you are here so that she might determine our best future course of action. As you well know, one cannot be too careful with one’s associations.”
Lizzie clenched her fists. “Of all the pompous…”
Her father held up his hand. “Look at the post script.”
She squinted. Yes, he’d written a few more faded lines. “We have just received news from Charlotte’s family that indeed Lydia was not involved with the recent Mr. Wickham’s tarnish. What a relief that must be for all of you. We are certainly relieved and renew the warmth of our invitation to come at your earliest convenience. No mention needs to be made of the aforementioned stain.”
“Oh he’s so loathsome. I don’t know how Charlotte abides his presence.”
“Yes, it sounds like she is making the most of her experience and has time to herself. Managing a home and caring for her own life might be all she hoped for. We mustn’t challenge people’s right to joy in their own choices because they are different from ours.” Her father patted her shoulder. “I am much relieved and grateful to the Lucases for their swift response and squelching of rumors. However true the rumors may have been.” He wiped his brow. “We are greatly in their debt.”
“Mr. Bennet!!” Lizzie’s mother’s shouts could be heard all throughout their gardens.
Her father lifted the corner of his mouth. “It is good to be the deliverer of good news, is it not?”
She smiled. “It most certainly is.”
He stepped slowly toward the stairs. Never did he shout in response to her mother’s shrieks. But he plodded along to find her in the house to see what it was that she desired.
Lizzie lowered to a small sofa to read Charlotte’s letter, curious about how they had come to know of Wickham’s disappearance in the first place.
Charlotte began immediately with the problem at hand. “Oh Lizzie. The most dreadful news reached us. I have done my best to cast doubt, and Mother’s latest express that Father sent squelched the wagging tongues, but there is still a good amount of suspicion. I’m including Lydia, Kitty, and Mary in my invitation to come to call. I think it will do them good and will show without doubt that Lydia is indeed still with her family and well and untainted.”
Lizzie cringed.
Charlotte added, “I hate to use such a word, but I speak as though I’m reacting as Lady Catherine might. She is not one to tolerate much of anything, particularly something that challenges her sense of correctness.”
Lizzie snorted. “I would not enjoy living near such a woman.” Frustration with Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine would always be there, but she could only feel a blanket of warmth and gratitude for her friend Charlotte. She sat at a writing desk to draft a response immediately.
She accepted the invitation for her sisters and herself. She thanked her for protecting their good names and reputations and assured her that Lydia was indeed home and safe and sound with them, but that Wickham had built quite an awful reputation for himself with debts and scandal all around him. “Can you believe I once thought him entertaining? I quake at the thought.” She’d vilified Mr. Darcy for slighting her and celebrated Wickham because he spoke pretty things to her and pet her vanity. Of the two, Mr. Darcy, though awkward and ill spoken, and meddling, was likely a better man. But interfering with Jane? She could not account for it. There was nothing there but goodness. Once again she was at a loss to understand the man. She tried to shift him from her mind.
As she returned to her letter, she caught Charlotte up on news from town and on her life, detailing much about the house party but leaving out her interactions with Mr. Darcy. She was at a loss to explain him, and Charlotte had experienced the bulk of her strong dislike and prejudice against the man. She didn’t have anything to add by way of explanation for her feelings. She didn’t even know her own feelings. She held her head in her hands as though trying to understand what went on inside of it. How could she like a man who was not likable in so many ways? With no answers, she tried to make sense of it all to no avail. And then, giving up, she finished her letter and went to go find Lydia.