Teaching Eliza, page 24
Lizzy was horrified. Was this what her family and friends thought of her? All of her family and friends seemed to have deserted her, with the singular exception of Charlotte, and she was now an outcast amongst her own family, scorned and mocked by those who professed to love her, deemed too grand for the people she had called friends. It was too much to bear, and she left her boots lying on the small rug as she ran up the back stairs to her room and let a flood of tears fall. “What shall become of me?” she wept into her pillow. “Whatever shall become of me?”
This descent into misery was blessedly interrupted some days later by the arrival of two men on horseback. They had driven in from London the previous evening, and after staying the night at Netherfield, had made Longbourn their first stop in the morning.
“Lord Eynshill and Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Mrs. Hill announced in some alarm as the two interrupted the Bennet family’s breakfast.
“Oh, we are rather too early, are we not?” the colonel asked in alarm, but Lizzy jumped up from her seat and grabbed both men’s hands before realising it was most inappropriate to do so. “Richard!” she beamed, “Freddy!” She felt a smile come across her face for the first time in many a day.
Too early to visit or not, the esteem due these two men quickly saw chairs arranged for them, for the very wealthy or high of rank may make their own rules in society and be lauded for them.
“Most dreadfully sorry to barge in like this, Mrs. Bennet,” Freddy purred as he accepted the breakfast offered to him, “but I could not wait a moment longer before seeing your lovely daughter Elizabeth once more. What a fine table you set, and not even anticipating guests. You must be the most admired hostess in the area.” Then, turning to the master of the house, “Fine estate here, Bennet. You are a fortunate man.” Thus, having most efficiently smoothed any feathers ruffled by their unorthodox appearance, the brothers charmed their way into convincing Lizzy to join them on a walk into town.
It was not a difficult task, for more and more, Lizzy found herself an outsider in her family, and was always eager for some means to escape them. The companionship she had found with Richard and Freddy was most pleasing and welcome, and she discovered that she had grown more comfortable with their London ways than with the manners and habits of the good people of Meryton.
“I am most glad to see you, Lizzy,” Freddy breathed into her ear as they began their walk. Of her London acquaintances, he was the only one to use the name by which her family and friends called her. She had not, until now, wondered at this. He must have heard her referred to thus by Charlotte and by her aunt and uncle, and had adopted the appellation which she, herself, preferred. He took her hand and placed it upon his forearm. “I have missed your company and bright smile. Have you thought much about me while you have been away? I do hope so!”
Had she missed him? She certainly enjoyed his company and his irrepressible good nature and charm, but had she missed him? Wished daily that he were with her? She was not certain she did. At first, immediately upon her return to Meryton, she had felt his absence, but as the weeks had progressed she had thought less and less of him, except in fond recollection of London and her time there. No, delightful as it was to see him once more, she had not missed him in the manner he meant.
Instead of answering his question, she replied, “I am so very pleased to see you, Freddy! You cannot imagine what a delight it is.” He seemed satisfied with that as an answer, and offered his arm as they walked.
Richard’s goal, to no one’s surprise, was to visit Charlotte. He explained as they walked that he had wrested the entire story from his cousin and had announced that he would accept interference from no one in this matter. “I gave Darcy the tongue-lashing of his life, Eliza. I believe the walls are still ringing from my shouts. I also may have hit him.” He rubbed his hand in recollection. “I am not proud of my loss of temper, but neither do I regret it. It was time Darcy got put in his place.
“He was the only son,” the colonel continued as they wandered past bright meadows and well-tended farms, “the golden boy, the longed-for heir, and he was treated accordingly. He was afforded the best of everything, but was never taught how to care for people. I do believe this is the first time in his life he has been called to account for his dealing with others. We have laughed at his eccentricities until now and treated them as a bit of a joke, but never before has he acted so heartlessly and given such pain, and so he must be called to account.”
Reluctantly, Lizzy asked, “How is the professor managing with the demands of society after the ball? Has he managed to find a good face to present to the spectators?”
It was Freddy who answered. “No, he absconded the very next morning. Packed up his valise, saddled his horse, closed the Town House, and departed, presumably for Pemberley. I doubt very much we shall see him again this side of winter. He has a tendency to sulk.”
Gone? Gone from London? That proud, arrogant man who sneered at the dictates of civility and thought nothing of crushing the spirits of people he considered beneath him had left in a pique? Was he embarrassed by his failure— not to pass Lizzy off as equal to the elite, but to sway her mind to his will— or was his abrupt departure due to something else? Did Richard’s haranguing cause the rude professor a moment’s deep reflection? Or was he genuinely shaken by it? Was there, perhaps, a sliver of humanity in the cold and haughty beast after all? Lizzy thought back to those rare moments when she had glimpsed the vulnerability and sensitivity hidden below the callous layers of disdain and wondered if Darcy was hurting as much as she was.
She had hardly allowed herself to think of him. She refused to give in to the deep desire to recall his kisses, the touch of his hands, the real understanding that had developed between them. She had considered, more than once, accepting his second proposal for a true engagement, and wondered how much she had come to care for the man. When he had disparaged her hard work and reveled in the completion of his project, she had felt her heart shatter in her breast, and resolved to think no more on the man who had created and then destroyed her, but he was there, always there, in her soul, and she knew she would never be free of him. Nor, she realised for the first time, did she wish to be. She missed him.
Richard must have sensed her distress, for he quickly turned the conversation to lighter matters. He chatted happily of his mother, of the flowers at Kew Gardens, and of the horse he considered acquiring from an acquaintance.
“Not that one, Richard,” Freddy interrupted. “That horse will never suit. He’s strong and well-bred, I grant you, but think of how his coat will clash with the new riding coat Mother had made for you. He is too yellow to match the green of your vestments, and that just will never do. You cannot neglect the importance of such details.”
Richard huffed in disdain and rolled his eyes at this, then launched into a recital of his plans to take over the management of Hillford. “‘Tis mine now, and I have the responsibility for its prosperity, no matter whether I chose to make it my primary residence or not. I have been thither this past month, learning my way about and meeting the primary tenants. Good people, hard workers.” At this sensible adoption of responsibility, it was Freddy who rolled his eyes. Richard ignored him. “The land will prosper under good management, wherever I choose to live. But it would be a grand thing to settle on my own estate, raise a family…” His eyes drifted off to the horizon, and Lizzy knew he was thinking about Charlotte.
They had now reached the town and walked down the high street and around the corner, and were only a few steps from their destination. Lizzy ran the last few steps and rang at the bell. Within ten minutes, Charlotte had joined them, and the foursome walked further down the lanes leading beyond the village.
Richard and Freddy remained for two days, sleeping at Netherfield but spending their days with Lizzy and Charlotte. Their departure, when it occurred, was somewhat precipitous. Freddy announced most suddenly that he wished to attend the races at Ascot. Any attachment he might have felt towards Lizzy was second to his love of thoroughbred horses, so it seemed. Richard also announced that he had better return to London for the nonce to deal with matters of personal business, although his absence would be temporary. He had offered for Charlotte and she had accepted him. He would return shortly to claim his bride.
“I do love him, Lizzy!” she confessed as the men’s carriage departed. “I cannot now think that I ever might have accepted a man for the security he offered and nothing more. Now that I have known Richard and heard what my heart has whispered to me, I cannot imagine anything else.”
Lizzy hugged her friend, genuinely delighted that there would be a happy ending for at least some of the people drawn into Darcy’s plot. Freddy had continued playing the suitor, but she suspected that he knew as much as she did that the love between them was the love of good friends. She would never feel towards him what Charlotte felt for Richard, nor he towards her. His decision to abscond to Ascot confirmed this notion in her mind.
If it so transpired that he should ask her to marry him, which she increasingly doubted he would ever do, she might accept him, but it would be a marriage of convenience only. The thought made her sad. She might not deserve more, but Freddy certainly did. She did not love him, but she liked him a great deal and wished him all the happiness that fate might give him. Fortunately, this did not seem to be a decision she would have to make in the foreseeable future, and she wished it to remain that way.
Charlotte and Richard’s engagement was short, and they were wed three weeks later in London. Richard had returned after only two days, and had borne Charlotte away with him to London, where she would reside with the Count and Countess in order to ensure a suitable residence in the parish; it must be a society wedding, for the groom’s father was an earl, after all! The earl was not pleased at his son’s choice, but seemed resigned to it and gave his blessing to the couple. All celebrations having been made, the couple set off immediately to Hillford; it would be the first time Charlotte would see the estate that would now be her home and Lizzy dearly hoped the place would meet her expectations and make her happy.
Lizzy had travelled to Town for the wedding, and now, sitting in her uncle’s carriage as they returned after the breakfast to Gracechurch Street, she felt completely forlorn. Everybody was gone. Mary was gone, Jane was gone, and now Charlotte was gone. Whilst she was happy for them all, and begrudged them nothing, she could not help the return of sadness that crept through her. She had no more friends in Meryton; those she held dear had moved away, and those she had known less well were all put out by her elegant London ways. She felt quite alone and abandoned.
“What is the matter, Lizzy?” her aunt asked. Mrs. Gardiner had always been a favourite relative; her sensitive soul and perceptive eye now worked to discern the cause of Lizzy’s low spirits. “You feel you cannot return home, I believe. Charlotte was your last close friend there, and there is nothing there for you now. Am I correct, my dear?”
“You are always correct, Aunt.” A deep sigh emanated from her core as the carriage lurched its way through London’s crowded streets.
“Is this a good time, Edward?” her aunt grinned at the man seated on the opposite bench.
Her uncle chuckled conspiratorially and nodded, “I believe it is, my dear. Ask away.”
Turning to her niece and grabbing her hands, Mrs. Gardiner spoke. “Your uncle has decided to take a tour in the north, to see the country and to visit my old home at Arlenby. My brother and his wife will be in residence and Lady Grant has most specifically requested that you be included in our party. Come and join us, Lizzy. The change will do you good!”
It was not difficult to convince her. The prospect of travelling with her beloved aunt and uncle was much more welcome than returning to lonely Meryton, and the promise of a long visit with the Grants was delightful. Lizzy very much liked Aunt Gardiner’s brother and his wife, and her one regret for the way her adventure in London had ended was the loss of the year under the guidance of Lady Grant. By the time the carriage had finally delivered its passengers to the Gardiners’ house, all that remained to be done was to receive Mr. Bennet’s blessings for the journey. The future, for the first time in months, was looking brighter.
FIFTEEN — CHANGING SCENERY
~
GEORGE WICKHAM SAT BACK IN his chair at his favourite tavern and laughed. The afternoon light filtered through the dirty and uneven glass in the windows, further distorted by moiré curtains that might once have been white, but that now had as much character to them as the old man who lived around the long bar at the back of the room. Dust motes floated in the air, catching those rays that had survived the obstacles, glinting like miniscule stars in the half-lit space. The floors and furniture were all old and scarred wood; the walls were plaster, interrupted by shelves, sconces and a large fireplace. It was not quite a respectable establishment, nor was it entirely disrespectable. It was a land in-between, where the classes might meet, where gossip might be exchanged, and where no one quite recalled exactly who had said what to whom the following morning. That the food was acceptable and the ale not watered rendered it even more suitable for the lieutenant, who had just heard something quite delightful from an old companion.
It had been some weeks since he had last seen Caroline. After their last tryst, as she kissed him goodbye behind the curtains of the carriage he had hired, she had explained with a moue of disappointment that a succession of societal and family responsibilities would prevent her from seeing him for a while. No, no, she assured him, this was not a final parting, but a temporary one, made necessary by the demands of her station. She would never say the words or name the people, but Wickham was certain it revolved around her engagement to the miserable Darcy. There would surely be balls, teas, soirees, yawn, yawn, yawn, at which she must appear to dote upon her surly and unpleasant betrothed, while swanning around trying to convince her friends and acquaintances that she genuinely cared for the man, and how happy they would be once they were wed. He could picture her, dripping in the Darcy family jewels— now which ones might he pilfer and sell?— strutting around in some elaborately encrusted gown, looking down her pretty nose at the poor little people who did not have the great luck to be marrying into the Darcy fortune, all while replaying his most particular attentions in her mind. Hah, poor Darcy— cuckolded before he was even wed! Would crusty, boring, unimaginative Darcy ever discover how Caro enjoyed it when…? Ah, yes, he shivered at the recollection. A most pleasant memory indeed. Poor girl to be stuck with that prig. She would undoubtedly always come back to him for her pleasure.
And now, what news had he just heard from Sanderson’s lips, but that Darcy had left town! Sanderson’s brother was a footman at the Poynters’ townhouse, and he had it from the upstairs maid at the Derlains, who had it from the Maltons’ very own kitchen maid, that there had been a grand ball to celebrate the engagement and introduce the bride to society, and that afterwards she and Darcy had fought, and both had abandoned London! Some of the details had seemed a tad off, perhaps—surely the bride’s name was Miss Caroline and not Miss Elizabeth—but everyone knew how the specifics never survived subsequent retellings intact. It could only be a slip of memory, both being common and rather interchangeable names, and these little inconsistencies bothered him not at all. What was important was that Darcy must have learned of his beloved’s betrayal! He had learned of Caroline’s faithlessness and he had scuttled out of town like a kitchen pest upon the lighting of a lamp!
Yes, the great Fitzwilliam Darcy had been cast down! Wickham played and replayed various scenarios over in his mind of what must have transpired after the ball, and each one concluded with Caroline informing him that she had been taken and loved by another.
“How could you? How could you choose Wickham over me?” Darcy would say, and Caroline would just laugh and laugh before informing him coolly, “I needed a real man.”
And what of Darcy’s retreat? Wickham relished the thought of the great master of Pemberley, returning home a broken shadow of a man, tail between his legs. Was his heart broken? Was he destroyed? Was he humiliated, cast down in shame? It mattered not which; it only mattered that the plan was working and Wickham was finally gaining the upper hand. This was the first taste of victory! This was what Wickham had been working towards for so long, and now his schemes were playing out at last. Ah, how he would savour this moment.
He summoned the serving girl over and asked for another pint of the good strong ale, then sat back with a self-satisfied grin on his face to plan the next stage of his assault.
~
Mr. Gardiner had written to Mr. Bennet about the proposed journey northward, and permission had been duly granted. The alacrity with which the response was written and dispatched, so unlike her father’s accustomed lackadaisical dithering, suggested to Lizzy that the family was relieved to be rid of her for some time longer. She did not know if this realisation injured her or relieved her to a greater extent.
The ultimate plans were simple and elegant: Lizzy would remain in London with her relatives until the dates of the planned holiday, at which time the carriage would travel to Longbourn, where it would disgorge itself of four Gardiner children and their nursemaid, to be replaced by Lizzy’s travelling trunks. Such was deemed most suitable, and such transpired, and in the early days of the summer, the trip was underway.
Although Lizzy had travelled many times south to London, and since had travelled further south still to Kent, this was her first journey northward. Uncle Gardiner often had cause to travel along these roads for his business, and Aunt Gardiner herself was from the north; consequently between the two, they had a multitude of interesting and amusing tales to entertain their guest on the long trip. All along the route, Elizabeth found herself diverted. The changing scenery and topography captured her imagination, and she found amusement at the stopping places and inns where they rested their horses and took meals in observing and inventing stories about their fellow travellers. Along those stretches of the Great North Road that were less than picturesque, she took comfort in the selection of books she had brought along, and the entire adventure was most agreeable and pleasant.
