Chapter 13 The Jane Plan
The day after the storm, Mr. Smith arrived as usual for his afternoon visit. He presented the settlement papers to the eager Mrs. Bennet, who tucked them away safely in her husband's study, and then presented a fresh bouquet to his intended. Before Mr. Smith had taken a seat, the apologies began for his behavior the previous day. Jane accepted his explanation with little more than a kind smile.
Elizabeth could not be so easily swayed. The coldness he had exhibited concerned and worried her. It was not simply that he had abandoned them, but he had not even waited to make sure they had arrived home safely. Even though Jane assured Elizabeth several times she suffered no lingering effects from the ill-advised walk to Netherfield, she did agree it would be best to remain indoors for the day. Without any scenery to distract her, Elizabeth glared at the man until he refused to meet her eyes across the room and satisfied himself with sitting in silence next to his fiancé.
Thankfully, the awkward visit was brief. And, was not without its entertainment.
Shortly after Elizabeth settled in to begin a book she had borrowed from her father's library, Kitty joined them. She admired Jane's newest bouquet of flowers closely, inhaled deeply their fragrant beauty, and immediately began sneezing. Mr. Smith's reaction was beyond comical. Each sneeze made his eyes widen further, his lips pucker and his face turn an alarming grey color. The end result made him look like some sort of strange man fish.
When Kitty took a seat near the couple, Mr. Smith sprang from the love sofa. He produced a handkerchief and covered his mouth and nose. Backing away from Kitty, he announced anxiously he had a pressing matter back at his estate. One he just recalled. Quitting the room with the same speed he displayed the day before, he nearly barreled over Ms. Hill in the hallway.
"My goodness, he was in a hurry to leave." Their servant said as she set the tea things on the low table in front of the sisters. "Whatever did you say to him, Miss Elizabeth?"
"She didn't say anything to him." Kitty reached for the teapot, offering to pour. Her recovery from such sneezing miraculously swift. She handed a cup to Jane, winking. "For you, dear sister."
"Why thank you, dear sister!" Jane said formally before all three of them dissolved into laughter to the utter confusion of the older woman.
*)*
The following day brought a letter arrived from Mrs. Gardiner. Since Jane's wedding was approaching and they were not making any headway in locating Lydia, it had been decided for her father to return back home while Mr. Gardiner continued to search in Town.
"Come home? Give up?" Mrs. Bennet cried. "Surely, your father will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if he comes away? No, I will not believe it. If he comes home without Lydia, I will not speak to him ever again."
When Mr. Bennet arrived two days later exhausted and dirty from traveling on the road, Mrs. Bennet remained good on her threat. For nearly an hour.
For his part, their father suffered her nervous behavior with a patience Elizabeth had not witnessed in years. He said little by way of any defense, spoke little of Lydia or her plight, and once Mrs. Bennet exhausted herself, carried the heavy burden of his conscious on to his study.
Elizabeth followed him after an hour. He smiled tiredly when he noticed her lingering in the doorway. She suggested he might get some rest but he shook his head sadly. "Your mother has run up accounts with every business in Meryton. I must settle these accounts." Sighing, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I should have stayed here and kept your mother's purse strings tied instead of looking for your sister, Lizzy."
"I'm sorry you did not find her."
"Not as half as sorry as I am." His hand absently landed on the settlement offer from Mr. Smith. "I wish I was the only one to suffer from this. This has been all my own doing and I ought to feel it."
"You are being too hard on yourself, father."
"That's gracious of you, Lizzy." He picked up the ledger book from the corner of his desk and opened it. "Let me for once in my life feel how much I am to blame for this. You did warn me to not let Lydia go. It is good of you not to remind me of it now." He picked up his quill, then paused looking at her squarely. "It's strange, isn't it? I've only been home a short while now, but the house seems quieter. Lydia was always like a whirlwind since she was born. Walking before the rest of you. Always loud, fluttering. Fighting with Kitty. Or giggling over some silly girly nonsense. It's so quiet now. It's quite jarring really, don't you think."
She nodded. Then, her father bent his head and began the business of settling his bills with his creditors. Seeing that there was to be no more conversation, she left her father be. The house did seem to be smaller and quieter without her younger's sister.
*)*
Then, on Thursday afternoon, the secret they hoped would remain in London until after Jane's wedding finally made it to Meryton. Denny, one of the men in Mr. Wickham's regiment, came to visit his sweetheart and quickly shared the shocking news of Lydia's elopement but the even more salacious tidbit a wedding had not followed in Gretna Green. By Friday when the Bennet women made it to town, the treatment they received there from the townsfolk made it apparent the family secret was now public knowledge. They stopped at Lucas Lodge on their way back home to see if the rumors had arrived there.
Mrs. Lucas brought the women into the parlor and served them tea. She listened attentively to Mrs. Bennet's concerns and held her hand. Elizabeth was just relieved that her mother's friend was still willing to receive them. Perhaps, the news about Lydia would not be so bad once it blew over. However, she was quickly disabused of that thought when they arrived home to find their father in a yelling match with one seriously displeased Mr. Smith.
"You will release me from the engagement this instant. You were not honest about the situation with your youngest daughter and I feel deceived by your entire family, sir!" Mr. Smith's face was bright red, sweat covered his brow. "I will not take your daughter as a wife. The taint from her sister's illicit behavior will travel down to my own daughters and come into my own house. No! No, I demand satisfaction. I demand you release me from this promise or I will take the matter to Pastor Faraday for his review."
"We gladly release you, Mr. Smith." Mrs. Bennet said loudly, coming to stand next to her husband. "My Jane was too good for the likes of you anyway. She will find herself a better match. She is not a beauty for nothing."
Within moments the document was burned to the satisfaction of everyone. And, then Mr. Smith was ejected from the Bennet home with instructions to never return.
*)*
The staircase swayed slightly under his weight causing Mr. Darcy to clutch the banister. Taking in his surroundings, he realized this had to be the very worst of the establishments he had frequented in the last several weeks. At the small landing, a dirty threadbare carpet ran down the cramped hallway containing four doors. He stopped in front of the first one on the right as he had been directed by the barkeep below and knocked loudly on a deeply scarred wooden door.
A door across from him opened causing him to turn suddenly. A woman stepped out in a dirty gown, propped herself up in the doorway in what she clearly thought was an attractive pose and ran a hand suggestively down her side. Mr. Darcy turned from her and continued to wait at the appointed doorway. She said something insulting before loudly shutting the door to her lodgings.
In searching the London underbelly, he had been propositioned by more than his fair share of young women who had the dejected look of one who had been educated in ways no one of the fairer sex should. Poorly fed children, running around unkempt and without guidance, begging on the street or resorting to stealing from the very few street vendors brave enough to hawk their wares in 'this part' of Town. Drunkards staggering the streets looking for a distraction, either in the bottle or in the bed of the aforementioned ladies. Seeing such depravity had been enough to expel him forever from Town and back to the restorative power of Pemberley. But he could not quit this self-imposed task. He could not stop due to personal discomfort when Elizabeth was suffering over the loss of her sister.
"Lydia will be lost forever to our family."
The anguish in her voice as she uttered those words had been his undoing. He had longed to brush her tears away. Ached to comfort her. Holding her against himself as she was overcome from the news contained in the letter had felt so natural. So right. And, had been so very wrong. What man allowed the carnal enjoyment of the weight of her body against his own to outweigh the woman's desperation?
She already thought he was far from a gentleman. What had he done since meeting her in London to address this criticism? Magnified by Mr. Wickham's antics, Darcy could not look back on his own behavior without abhorrence. He had not been much better than Wickham in his pursuit of what he most wanted. What he most desired! Consequences be damned! If they had gone on as they were, Mr. Darcy knew he would have compromised Elizabeth. Not on purpose, or by design. But, because his notice of her had drawn the attention of the Ton, eyes would be on them at every social event. It would have only been a matter of time before they would have been caught touching inappropriately or kissing. He had convinced himself that using Elizabeth's innocence to seduce her into accepting him was an acceptable form of wooing her.
It mattered little now. How could he ever hope to gain her love after what Wickham had done? What his silence had permitted to happen? The importance he had placed on his sister's reputation had put the safety of all of the women in Meryton in jeopardy. If he had only spoken up, warned the populace this could not have happened. He could have thought of a way to reveal the man's character without divulging his sister's involvement if he had truly wanted to do so. The idea of revealing such intimate things to complete strangers, in a society he had deemed beneath him, had never occurred to him. Now, he was just reaping the fruit born of his disastrous pride.
He knocked again.
He had to find the couple and make them marry. Make this right. For Elizabeth. To ensure that Elizabeth had the futures she so richly deserved.
He could see things so clearly now. Her eventual marriage to some decent, eligible man. Charming the Ton with her beauty, her wit, and her intelligence. Perfect tools in society! She would absolutely bloom. The scene at the Haversham's Ball was only the beginning. How had he ever dreamed the life he offered her would be attractive to someone effervescent like her? Locked away among the fringes where he liked to live or stuck in the country half of the year with only him and Georgianna to entertain. No, she deserved a man who was easy in society. Who did not have past dealings with the likes of George Wickham!
Yes, he would marry, because he must. Georgiana would be presented by his new wife. Children would come along and he would be happy. He would do his duty. Live honorably. Her husband would adore her, like Mr. Perceval did. The children from their union would grow strong and beautiful.
Every ball she attended he knew he would come forward to claim a dance on her crowded card. For one dance he could behave as a gentleman. Let her know that he had addressed the deficiencies she so clearly saw in him. The years would be good to her. She'd mature. Fine wrinkles, laugh lines, would form at the edges of those dear lips. And, she would be content with her life. A life without him in it.
He knocked again, louder and more persistent this time.
It had taken way too much time to finally cross paths with the helpful Mrs. Young. At first, he was disappointed to learn she had not seen Mr. Wickham in over a year. He had considered her to be his best, last hope in locating Lydia. But then she told her story about their last meeting when Wickham had arrived on her doorstep sober and scared, frantically asking to borrow a ridiculous amount of money. It was not a surprise that Mr. Wickham had left London with a trail of debts in his wake. The man appeared to have done that everywhere he went. However, the sum was staggering. And, the man to which the debt was owed equally so.
Mr. Darcy quickly came to understand from his inquiries that Mr. Haggans ran a network of businesses which profited from man's worst vices. He enjoyed inflicting pain on those who did not pay what was owed to him. The tales of torture and disfigurement delivered at Mr. Haggan's hands soured his stomach.
When his solicitor had accompanied him to meet with Mr. Haggans, he was surprised to see the man was a short and stout, with a mop of black hair and ruddy skin. He possessed a deceptive gregarious nature, but there was something about his pale blue eyes that felt lifeless and cold. If he had not already known Mr. Haggans' profession, he would have instinctively known the man was not to be trifled.
As he expected, Mr. Haggans was very interested to discover Mr. Wickham was believed to be back in London. And, very interested in coming to an advantageous business arrangement with Mr. Darcy. A substantial down payment was made with promises to settle Wickham's entire debt in full with interest if his old friend could be located and be made to marry Miss Lydia.
Within twenty-four hours, Mr. Haggans had used his network to locate Mr. Wickham.
Again, Mr. Darcy knocked on door.
Just when he was about to leave, from within, there was a loud crash. It was followed by a whispered exchange, a muffled curse word, then a rather loud giggle. Then the door was opened wide by a disheveled woman, hair loose about her shoulders, in a revealing night dress. He was so surprised at seeing his quarry finally appearing before him he stood still in shock. It was only when Lydia laughed loudly, turning her head to say, "Oh, La, Wickham, what a funny thing. It's not dinner. It's only Mr. Darcy."
There was a louder crash, followed by the sound of a glass breaking, more cursing. Then, the door began to close in his face. Before that could happen, he wedged his boot between the door and jam. One hard push against the wooden door and he was inside.
God, the smell! The room reeked of body odor mingled with a sort of sick, sweet rot. Nauseated by the smell, Darcy wondered how this man could have contrived to settle here with any woman. But, a gentlewoman no less! His eyes adjusted to the dim room as he searched for Wickham.
For her part, Lydia had lost interest in him completely. She went to the bed, pulled her legs underneath her and started brushing her hair. She did not seem concerned with her predicament and didn't appear to be under any sort of duress. That, Mr. Darcy considered, was a small blessing.
"Welcome, Darcy!" Wickham said from his seat at a small table not far from the door he just arrived through. The table held several dirty plates, remnants of many meals being taken here in the room, and clearly the source of the overwhelming odor. In disbelief, Darcy watched as the reprobate inspected a filthy glass, use the sleeve of his nightshirt to wipe at it, before he poured himself a drink. "I'd offer you one, Darcy, but I don't think it would meet with your high standards."
"I'll take his," Lydia moved across the room, took the glass from his hand, and sat squarely on her lover's lap. "We are celebrating after all, Mr. Darcy!"
"Celebrating?" This was the most heartbreaking celebration he had ever attended. "And what are you two celebrating?"
"We are to be married." Lydia said proudly, before she belched. "As soon as he gets paid on the morrow. Or is it the day after that? Oh, I'm getting so muddled and mixed up. We've been here so long. Once he gets his wages, we are going to go shopping at the best shops in town." She fluffed her hair. "I am going to have the finest white dress. We are going to get married in one of those fancy churches in Mayfair. And for our honeymoon we are going to stay at this huge estate that Wickham grew up on when he was but a mere boy."
He kept his eyes trained on Wickham. "Is that so?"
"You don't have to bore our guest with all of our plans." Wickham laughed nervously, pushing her to her feet with a little more effort than necessary. "Why don't you get dressed? I need to speak with Mr. Darcy about some private matters."
"Why should I get dressed?" She pouted. "Are we going to go out somewhere tonight now that your friend is here?"
"Yes, yes. Go, get ready." Wickham entreated. Once the door to the small dressing room was closed behind her, his smile abandoned his lips. Rubbing the days old growth along his jawline, he asked, "Why have you come here?"
"Because I feel responsible for this mess you have caused. If I had let all of the good people in Meryton know about your true nature, this could not have happened."
"Ah, but you could not do that, could you? Telling them about me meant telling them about my previous fiancé. How is Precious Georgiana?"
A hot bile churned in Darcy's stomach. "I believe her most trying years are behind her."
Smiling, Mr. Wickham leaned back in his chair, wobbling on two of the legs, considering for a long moment. Finally, he leaned forward placing all of the legs firmly on the floor coming to a decision. "No, there is something more to your involvement in this. Something you are not telling me. You would never take on so much for a woman so far beneath you."
"I have told you why I am here. Believe it or not, Wickham. But let's not play games and make this something it is not." Darcy sat down across from him. "But I have a better question for you. Why would you abscond with a woman who had so little to offer you? It seems like a poor move for someone like yourself. You usually stick with women of poor morals or target women who can bring you fortune. Surely, you know her family has nothing to tempt you to marry her and you had to know that you would be tracked here to London." That wiped the smirk from his old friend's face. It was his turn to grin. "By the by, I met an old friend of yours in town yesterday."
"Really? Who? I have a lot of friends." Wickham finished his drink in one swallow.
"A Mr. Haggans." The fear on Wickham's face was palpable and gave Darcy more hope than he had in weeks. "Now there is a resourceful man. He was able to find you in a matter of hours while I spent weeks of searching in vain for you."
"He knows I am in town?"
"Yes, he does." Darcy nodded. "In fact, he wanted very much to come up to see you himself, but I did not believe Miss Lydia needed to meet such a man." He let Mr. Wickham digest the fact he was willing to let Mr. Haggans have him. "So, here is what I am going to do about your little mess, George. You are going to return that girl home to her family tonight. Then, in two day's time, you are going to marry her. Once that is done, I will pay off the debt you owe to Mr. Haggans and your other creditors in full. I have secured you a commission, at considerable cost, in a regiment which will leave for France in two months' time. You will leave with them. I will settle upon you a wedding present of 500 pounds."
"500 pounds? Is that all? What about an advance? I must have some new wedding clothes…"
"No, there will not be any advance." Mr. Wickham's greed knew no bounds. "You can wear your regimentals for the service. That will please your wife. And, if you fail to show up at the church at the appointed time…"
"I know. I know." He mocked, affronted his word was being questioned. "If I don't show up, I don't get the money or the promised commission."
"No, George, if you don't show up at the chapel, Mr. Haggans knows I won't pay what you owe." He felt the griminess of the room seeping into his clothes and stood up. "He found you this time easily enough. It wouldn't surprise me if he intends to watch you like a hawk until he receives his money from me at the church after the service."
Wickham made to pour another drink, but the bottle was empty. He threw it against the wall where it shattered. "Damn you, Darcy! You are like my own personal bad luck omen."
"Funny. I had similar thoughts about you." Darcy nodded in the direction of where Lydia had disappeared. "Collect your fiancé. Make yourself presentable. You will accompany me back to the Gardiners' home, where you will pay your respects for whatever that is worth, and then you will disappear until the wedding."
When she finally rejoined them, Lydia was thrilled to have their wedding date decided, but petulant when she learned of the plan for her to remain with her relatives until the nuptials took place. "I don't see why I have to stay with them. I can stay with Wickham until the wedding. What harm is there in that now?"
Mr. Darcy was incredulous. The young woman was incapable of mustering the faintest traces of humiliation or shame at her actions.
Putting his arm around his future wife, Mr. Wickham explained, "Lydie, your aunt will want to help you with things for the wedding. I'd only be in the way. Besides, you have to get your wedding dress and your trousseau."
"My aunt should have the honor to help me pick out my flowers and things. I guess I can make do with my uncle giving me away." She frowned petulantly like the child she was, "I do wish there was time to send for my family though so my sisters could all see me getting married first."