A Most Civil Proposal (45 page)

“I will not be silent!” retorted Lydia angrily. “And I hardly needed to be rescued! It is your fault!” she cried, pointing to Darcy, who sat beside Elizabeth, arms folded, looking on expressionlessly at the disgraceful exhibition. “You will not leave him alone! You stole his inheritance and hounded him out of town, and now you get your cronies to lock up an innocent man! Will you never cease your vendetta, Mr. Darcy? Will you never stop persecuting a man who should be like a brother to you?”

“Lydia, stop it!” Elizabeth said sternly. “Mr. Darcy just saved you from being ruined by that . . .
that scoundrel
! You owe him a debt of gratitude that you cannot comprehend!”

“Him? Gratitude? That is a joke!” Lydia spat. “He kept me from marrying the man I love! And who loves me! Your husband did to me just what he has done to Wickham when he denied him his legacy. I could never feel gratitude to such a despicable blackguard!”

“Mr. Wickham was never going to marry you, Lydia,” said Elizabeth coldly. “He never loved you; he just wanted an ignorant, innocent young girl to keep him warm at night. There never would have been a marriage, and one morning you would have awakened to find him gone!”

“What do you know of it, Lizzy?” cried Lydia. “You are jealous because he chose me instead of you! And love? What do you know of love? I wanted to marry the man I love while you married a cold and revolting man simply for his money!”

Elizabeth turned white with outrage and suppressed fury, though Lydia could not see it in the dark coach. But Darcy felt the rigidity of her body and leaned over to whisper words of consolation in her ear.

“Lydia, for the last time, be quiet!” commanded Mr. Gardiner at the very limit of his control

“You cannot make me stop telling the truth!” she hissed. “And it
is
true that Lizzy married only for money and then only after Mr. Darcy ruined her! Yes! It is true, he ruined you, Lizzy, and you know it! And then you made him marry you somehow, but Papa would not bless the marriage, no matter what Mama said to him! He knows your husband is a rake and a scoundrel, and you are surely not the first girl that he has —”

The sound of flesh striking flesh was like a pistol shot in the coach as Elizabeth leaned forward and slapped Lydia as hard as she possibly could. The sting of the blow ran up Elizabeth’s arm, and Lydia’s head was turned halfway around by the impact. She was shocked into sudden momentary silence before she burst into tears and wild cries of pain and mortification.

“Lydia, be quiet immediately!” Elizabeth hissed in fury, but Lydia’s wails only increased.

The repetition of the sharp
‘smack’
of an open palm hitting her cheek was repeated, and this second slap finally shocked Lydia into a partial compliance with her sister’s command, whether from astonished disbelief or the sudden fear of being struck again could not be determined.

“If you
ever
again dare to insult my husband, Lydia Bennet, I will not hesitate to strike you again!” Elizabeth told her sister icily. “You will treat him with the utmost politeness and respect at all times, or you will have to deal with me! And do not let me hear
even
a rumour
of your speaking ill of him to others. You may not respect anything else in this world, but you should fear
me
, for I will not tolerate such behaviour from you ever again!”

Lydia could only listen without speaking, trying to choke back her sobs, and she turned to her uncle for solace. Mr. Gardiner would have none of it, however.

“Elizabeth only did what I was on the edge of doing,” he said sternly. “My brother should have done it years ago rather than allowing you to grow up to be such a wild and foolish child without any sense of restraint or propriety.”

It soon was quiet in the coach with only the sound of Lydia’s quiet sobs and involuntary hiccupping as she tried to stifle them, and slowly Mr. Gardiner and Darcy relaxed. Darcy put his arm around Elizabeth, pulling her to him, and only then did he become aware that she was quietly crying, her bonnet pulled over her face and her handkerchief pressed against her mouth to muffle the sound.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered to her, “do not be distressed over having to slap your sister. It had to be done.”

He bent down as she lifted her head, and she whispered back, between sobs, “I am not . . . crying . . . because of . . . Lydia. It is because of . . . the casual cruelty . . . that my father would show to speak of you in such a manner . . . before his family . . . and possibly others.”

Darcy had no reply to this, and he could only hold her close until her crying eased and she drifted into exhausted slumber.

* * * * *

It was an hour past dawn when the coach rattled to a stop before the front door of Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner exited the coach first and immediately — and energetically — knocked at the door, but it was more than a minute before the door was opened by Hill, who looked at Mr. Gardiner worriedly.

“I must see my brother Bennet immediately,” he said tersely.

The housekeeper peered past him to see Elizabeth stepping down from the coach and helping her sister out. Clearly, something was amiss involving Miss Lydia.

“I will inform the master at once,” she told Mr. Gardiner, curtseying and opening the door to allow him entrance.

Mr. Gardiner stepped into the entry, soon joined by Elizabeth and Lydia, while Darcy stopped at the doorway. Lydia stayed as far away from Elizabeth as possible, but her first impulse to flee up the stairs was halted by her sister’s imperious gaze.

It was about ten minutes before Mr. Bennet descended the stairs, showing evidence of having dressed in a considerable hurry.

“Good morning, brother,” Mr. Gardiner greeted him, though he was having trouble remaining civil. “It appears that you did not take our express seriously enough to do anything about it, but we have managed to prevent what you would not. Here is your child, who we managed to keep from going off with that villain Wickham, but only by the action of your daughter’s husband.”

By this time, Mrs. Bennet had also descended the stairs, but she could not understand the meaning of what her brother had said, and she cried out as she saw Lydia looking so ragged and forlorn.

“Lydia! But what has happened to you? My poor girl! Tell me who did this to you!”

“Lydia was caught in the act of what she thought was an elopement with Mr. Wickham,” Mr. Gardiner told her. “But it was not an elopement, madam, not at all. Only the swift work of Mr. Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam prevented Wickham from carrying Lydia off to London — and to her ruin!”

“I sent an express to Colonel Forster,” Mr. Bennet was finally able to offer. “I have not yet received a reply.”

“Had you left immediately, Brother, you might — might! — have been in time to save your daughter,” said Mr. Gardiner coldly, rapidly running out of sympathy for his sister’s husband. “Sending an express was a useless and indolent act; Wickham and Lydia would already be in London by now. But we were able to catch them just in time.”

“But Wickham said he was going to marry me!” wailed Lydia, in the arms of her mother.

“Be quiet, girl!” retorted her uncle sternly. “Any beliefs you had in that regard were foolish and uninformed. The man had no money, no trade, and had he successfully managed to desert his regiment and been caught, he would have been lucky to escape the noose. You would have wound up walking the streets of London, selling yourself for the price of a meal like many other foolish girls before you!”

Mrs. Bennet wailed at the crudity expressed by her brother, but this sordid scenario finally impressed her with the seriousness of what Lydia had done, and she took her youngest daughter into another room, scolding her fiercely as she went. Mrs. Bennet might complain about the exertions she was forced into by the demands of society, but the prospect of losing her position in that society was suddenly much more important than her inclination to spoil her child.

“Wickham is now under guard, charged with attempted desertion and other offences, and he is bound for debtor’s prison after the militia is through with him, for he had creditors aplenty in Brighton,” continued Mr. Gardiner. “I am sure it is the same in Meryton or even worse since the regiment was quartered here longer.”

This last made Mr. Bennet start, and he looked up to meet Darcy’s cold gaze, remembering what he had been told that day in the library.

“I . . . thank you, Brother,” he managed in a halting voice. “And . . . and my thanks to you too, Mr. Darcy, for saving my daughter.” Both men nodded in return then turned to leave, planning to stop at Netherfield to seek the hospitality of the Bingleys before they returned to Pemberley in a considerably more leisurely fashion than they had left.

“Uncle, William, would you wait for me in the coach, please?” Elizabeth asked. “I would like to have a word with my father.”

Darcy nodded and left the doorway, and Elizabeth followed her father into the library. Unseen by her, Mr. Gardiner lingered in the hallway while she closed the door.

Mr. Bennet had not even seated himself before Elizabeth burst out furiously, “I would like to know, sir, by what right you openly denigrate my husband before your family?”

Her voice was as cold as ice, and she was remorseless as she continued. “I would like to know just what makes you believe that you can call him a rake and a scoundrel, such that Lydia would throw those terms back in his teeth after he had just come to her rescue? For your information, Father, this man whom you denigrate and mock has travelled over two hundred miles in less than two days in order to save
your
daughter from her own foolishness — foolishness that never should have been given expression had you performed your duty as a father! You
knew
that she was too young and foolish to be sent into such temptation, yet you allowed her to go anyway! Have you an explanation, sir, for
any
of this reprehensible and unforgivable behaviour?”

Mr. Bennet had frozen halfway into his chair, shocked at being spoken to in such a manner by his daughter. His mouth was open as he gazed at her in amazement.

“Well, sir?”

“I did not . . . that is, I . . .” Mr. Bennet struggled to begin, but Elizabeth interrupted him.

“I could not at first understand the manner in which my sister dared to insult the man who was the means of her salvation, but then she informed me that she only quoted her father. I could not believe it, but then she repeated it, and I could no longer evade the truth. In the end, I had to slap her full across the face, not once but
twice,
before she would desist!”

Mr. Bennet stared at his favourite daughter in complete shock. Every word she said hit home in his conscience like a hammer-blow of fire and sparks, and still he could say nothing. He was too ashamed to admit his fault and too proud to display his shame, so he said nothing as she continued, her cheeks blazing red in agitation and anger.

“But slapping Lydia will do no good; both you and I know it, Father. If you could have troubled yourself earlier in her life to perform the same discipline on her, she might not have grown up to be such a foolish and wild child. She is silly, undisciplined, totally bereft of any sense of propriety, and is so completely without fear of consequences that she sees no reason to restrain her most irresponsible impulses.

“In addition to being insulted on behalf of my husband, who is the
very best man I have ever known
, I am also insulted for
myself!
That your opinion of
me
is such that you would even for a moment consider that I could marry such a man as you have described is beyond belief, whether threatened by scandal or not.” She paused to take a few quick breaths. She was feeling decidedly dizzy, but she was determined to finish what she had to say.

“After the manner in which you have treated Mr. Darcy, I have my doubts whether you would ever be welcome in his home. But make no mistake, Father — if you
ever
again fail in politeness to
my
husband, you will never be welcome in
mine!
Nor, in that event, will I ever set foot again in
yours!
I wish you good day, sir!”

Mr. Bennet was stung and angered by this treatment from his favourite daughter. He was shocked as it finally hit home just how badly relations between them had deteriorated, for he had never believed their estrangement would be permanent. He had been certain that Lizzy would sooner or later desist in trying to change his mind and would write to ask his forgiveness, often thinking on how he would play the part of offended but forgiving father, willing to welcome his erring daughter back into his good graces and even to tolerate the rogue that he had been forced to allow her to marry.

But he now knew how wrong he had been on that point, even if he was not yet able to consider whether the rest of what Lizzy had said could possibly be true. When she spun on her heel and left the room, he realized that he might never see her again. The pain in his heart at the thought of being forever estranged from his darling daughter was like a spear of ice. He had assumed that Elizabeth would bend to his will and refuse to marry without his blessing. He had assumed that she would not choose another man over her own father, and he had been angered by her defiance when she did just that. Now he understood his monumental error as he realized that Elizabeth had stormed out of his library and out of his house without his having said one single word to her.