His Uncle's Favorite (23 page)

She changed her clothes, and for a moment, she looked in the mirror and wondered what he might think after seeing her in such a dishevelled state. Yet, that was the least reason for concern; his opinion of her must be so low that her appearance mattered little.

So he returned to Town—why did Georgiana not say a word?—and he spent time writing her and came to hand the letter to her in person. How long had he been walking around the cold park?

With the strongest curiosity and equal worry, she began reading.

Be not alarmed, Miss Bennet, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were earlier so disgusting to you…You will, I hope, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention in reading this, but I felt it was necessary. Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, you laid to my charge, and both need to be clarified. The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley from your sister…Her eyes eagerly ran along the page, anxious to discover his explanation regarding the role he had played in separating Mr. Bingley from Jane. At first, Darcy’s admission of his interference and his poor attempt at excusing himself by explaining his reasons made her angry and resentful. The fact that he admitted his error and made efforts to reunite the couple did not diminish his mistake. If fate had not made them meet again, or Mrs. Gardiner had not been a friend of the Matlocks, it was likely that Jane and Mr. Bingley would have been separated forever and their chance of happiness ruined. For that, he could not be forgiven so easily. However, since her sister’s present state of joy was a source of comfort, these revelations did not affect Elizabeth as much as they would have two weeks earlier.

Then, when she reached the part where he referred to Mr. Wickham, she continued to read
word after word, her eyes burning, her head spinning, her breathing heavy.

… My father and Lord Matlock were not only fond of this young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, they also had the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, my father intended to provide a living for him. As for my cousins and me, it is many years since we first began to think of Wickham as unworthy of such benefaction. The vicious propensities and the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friends, could not escape the observation of young men of nearly the same age as himself who had opportunities to observe him in unguarded moments, which my father and uncle could not have.

As for my cousin Lady Selina, she had her own share of hurtful experiences with Wickham, who tried more than once to insinuate himself with her with—probably—the hope of using his charms to accomplish a most advantageous marriage. With little hesitation, Selina rejected him, and he had no other choice than keeping his distance …”

Lady Selina? Mr. Wickham tried to insinuate himself with her? That cannot be! Was Lord Matlock aware of the dishonourable scheme against his beloved daughter?

… All connection between us seemed now dissolved, though I knew he had maintained a sort of friendship with my Uncle Matlock, who considered him an amiable rascal. You might wonder why, if we were aware of Wickham’s true character, we did not try harder to convince the earl to put an end to their friendship. I shall only mention that we tried, but Wickham’s influence seemed quite strong, and for reasons that are not to be shared, we had a strong belief that any further insistence would pain the earl exceedingly. Yet, the colonel lost no opportunity to inform his father about one or another of Wickham’s ‘accomplishments,’ and though the earl used to take everything in jest and find excuses for Wickham’s wantonness, we at least were content that he seemed to be aware that Wickham was more charming than trustworthy.

Elizabeth vividly remembered her first conversation with the Earl about Wickham, and that passage from the letter confirmed her own observation. She hastily whipped the tears from the corners of her eyes as she read further.

… last summer, he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said this much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy, but I will kindly point out that, except for my cousin the colonel, no one is aware of this, not even Selina or the earl. My sister Georgiana was left to the guardianship of the colonel and myself, as you might know. About a year ago, she was taken from school and an establishment formed for her in London, and last summer she went with the lady who presided over it to Ramsgate; thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design, for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived…

By the time she finished the part of the letter that painfully related Georgiana’s attempted elopement, the shame and anger towards herself felt like a sharp claw that took her breath away and defeated Elizabeth’s strength as tears clouded her eyes.

She immediately remembered Georgiana’s pallor and Lady Selina’s anger at seeing Wickham on the street. She remembered that Miss Darcy had burned her hand at the mere mention of Wickham’s name. Poor, dearest, sweet Georgiana!

Elizabeth struggled to read the last few lines while tears dropped on the paper.

At my sister’s heartfelt pleading, I agreed not to share this story with the earl—whose reaction against Wickham surely would have been violent, despite their previous friendship, as my uncle’s affection is divided equally between Selina and Georgiana. Also, my sister begged me not to tell Selina as she would be too ashamed to bear a dear cousin’s compassion. Not wanting to pain my sister further, I obeyed her wishes, but I still hope that she might feel strong enough in the future to tell my uncle and Selina about Wickham’s schemes. Colonel Fitzwilliam, as my best friend and one of the executors of my father’s will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions, but he kept the secret.

You will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood, he has imposed on you, but his success is not, perhaps, to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either, detection could not be in your power and suspicion certainly not in your inclination.

There is just one thing further that must be addressed: my supposed engagement to my cousin Anne de Bourgh. I do not know how you received such information, but you will believe me, I hope, when I say that I am not and never have been bound by either affection or honour to any other woman. On this, I have no other explanation to offer.

You may wonder why these things were not explained to you two weeks ago. I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. Even now, after so many days, I am not certain that what I have related in this letter is written well, but I am at peace with myself that I did everything in my power to present you a faithful and honest narrative of all events.

I will only add, God bless you.
Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Elizabeth put the letter down on the bed, unable to move.

Any shame, disappointment or horror she felt while reading the letter were against herself. Yes, Wickham proved to be unworthy of her approval, but she also was unworthy of everyone’s admiration. She was not wise, witty, or smart: nothing her family and friends—or Mr. Darcy—thought her to be.

All the outrageous things she discovered about Wickham disgusted her, but they did not surprise her as much as they should, not after the last days’ events. If she had been told all this two weeks earlier when her opinion of Mr. Wickham was unsullied, her reactions probably would have been disbelief and denial. However, after time to think properly of all she had witnessed, she had already admitted her errors in judgement.

She recollected meeting Mr. Wickham in Hertfordshire. She accepted his malicious words against Mr. Darcy and Georgiana without questioning his reasons for sharing such intimate information with a complete stranger. She—Elizabeth Bennet—was a careless simpleton who succumbed to Mr. Wickham’s questionable charms, and he used her as an instrument against Mr. Darcy. It was clear now that his motives could not have been honourable; he was either deceived regarding her fortune, or he was gratifying his vanity by the preference she showed unwisely and openly. She was horrified and humiliated, admitting she felt flattered and enchanted by Mr. Wickham’s attentions in the same empty-headed way that Lydia was flattered by any officer’s attention.

Sometime later, she cleaned herself and changed her clothes, whipping her tears furiously. She would not allow herself to cry; her behaviour did not deserve such relief.

Mrs. Gardiner, Jane, and her cousins were already at breakfast; Elizabeth joined them and tried to conceal her preoccupation, but she could not drive away her thoughts. Yes, she was silly and careless, but what about Lord Matlock? How was it possible that an admirable man allowed himself to be deceived by someone whose character was questioned by his own children? Was he blind? Old Mr. Darcy himself seemed to have been unfairly partial to Mr. Wickham, but since then, many things had happened—things that should have demonstrated proof of Wickham’s unworthiness.

After breakfast, Elizabeth returned to her room and read Darcy’s letter again. With every word, she could feel his worry and suffering for his sister and Georgiana’s shame and love of her brother, who was like a father to her.

A young man and little girl—almost a child—lost their parents and took care of each other alone, Mr. Darcy buying his sister a sleigh and teaching her to skate, Mr. Darcy being forced to deal with Mr. Wickham…

From the first moment of their acquaintance, Mr. Darcy’s repulsive manners were the only thing that impressed her, and though she had occasions to witness proof of his admirable character, she ignored them. She never saw anything that betrayed him of being unprincipled or unjust; Wickham himself recognised his qualities as a brother, and all his acquaintance esteemed and valued him, but she had simply ignored any contrary information. Only when she met him again in London did she begin to recognise more than she admitted regarding his worthiness. Even then, she was hasty to believe the worst of him, to accuse him of the most immoral intentions and to reject him in the most despicable manner.

Two hours later, they had visitors. She hurried downstairs, only to meet the happy faces of Lord Matlock, Mr. Bingley, Lady Selina, and Georgiana.

She greeted them and, without a second thought, suddenly embraced Miss Darcy tightly. She felt the girl hesitate for a moment and then respond to her caring gesture.

“Well, what a nice idea! Should we all embrace each other, do you think?” The earl laughed, and Miss Bennet blushed instantly while Mr. Bingley could not control a huge smile.

“I am afraid only those who enjoy sleigh riding are allowed to embrace each other,” Elizabeth attempted to joke, hiding her emotion, but a moment later she coloured, praying nobody would mention that Mr. Darcy also was in the sleigh.

Nobody did, so they seated themselves, and a servant entered with refreshments.

“Oh, speaking of the sleigh, Elizabeth, I have news,” said Georgiana. “Miss Bennet, Mr. Bingley and I decided we will have a long sleigh ride before you leave town! Miss Bennet was very curious after everything I told her, so she will come with us, and Mr. Bingley was so amiable that he agreed to join us! What do you say?”

“Well, it sounds quite charming if you are willing to freeze,” said Lord Matlock, “but you must plan it carefully not to interfere with my own plans; in two days’ time, I am expecting you all to dinner. No exceptions and no excuses are allowed.” The earl paused a moment, looked at his daughter, and then turned to Bingley. “You should bring your sisters, too, Bingley.”

“I thank you, your lordship. I am sure they will be grateful and delighted to be there.”

“So shall I be.” The earl poured himself another glass of brandy.

“Oh, did I mention Darcy is back in town? He called earlier, but I could not convince him to come with us. He had some urgent business to attend. Damn, that boy always is caught up in some sort of business. Unlike my sons…”

“Mr. Darcy has visited us many times in the past, and I am sure he will do so again soon. We should not bother him with our insistence,” Mrs. Gardiner said.

“I am sure my brother would be delighted to visit you, but he was reluctant to intrude on you unexpectedly,” Miss Darcy intervened. “He said it was not proper to make an appearance when nobody expected him. He said he did not want to bother you…”

“Oh, nonsense! He is troubling himself too much…unlike my sons…” the earl replied, and everybody smiled.

“Mr. Darcy is as considerate and thoughtful as ever,” Elizabeth said. “We understand his reason and appreciate his restraint. If…when he considers the time acceptable, we hope to meet him again…sometime soon. We would not wish to intrude on his plans, however…”

For a moment, it was silent in the room, and Miss Darcy looked at Elizabeth with curiosity. Mrs. Gardiner and Lord Matlock exchanged a glance.