Chapter Four - Gathering of Facts
"What do you think has become of him?" Jane asked as the sisters took a turn around the garden at Longbourn.
Three weeks passed since the night of the ball at Netherfield and much had altered for the inhabitants of Longbourn while nothing changed in the daily lives of those inhabiting the village of Meryton. Dark clouds threatened rain in the distance. December brought bitter winds, trapping the Longbourn's occupants inside for days on end. Tempers frayed with the close quarters. Therefore, the Bennet Sisters gladly took the time to enjoy this splendid moment of sunshine before the winter closed in around them once again. For Lizzy, she felt the dreary weather of late to be a mirror image of her mind. It continued to deal with the sudden and unexplained disappearance of Mr. Wickham, the loss of Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy's insights on her character, her sister's continuing sadness over broken dreams and, finally but most importantly, the impropriety of her relations effecting any chance of happiness.
Mr. Bingley and his party had removed to London for the duration two days after the fated ball, without hope of returning. Jane received a letter from Caroline the very day the party departed, suggesting they would not be returning anytime soon. It had been a calculated move in Elizabeth's opinion, demonstrating the lady's contempt for her sister and, indeed, all of Hertfordshire. Miss Bingley also hinted at an attachment between her brother and Miss Darcy. Jane chose to be placed on her guard with respect to the gentleman who had shown her such favour. Yet, Lizzy knew of Miss Darcy recent troubles and could not imagine any attraction between the pair, most especially after a failed elopement.
A second letter arrived from London yesterday. Miss Bingley avoided the subject of returning to Hertfordshire, or the whereabouts or doing of her brother. Jane's sad countenance proved enough for Lizzie to discern the contents which, undoubtedly, conveyed more of Miss Bingley's concealed venomous sentiments. Her heart ached for Dear Jane who did not deserve such disappointment. Currently, the only additional anguish it created issued from the minds and voices of those closest to them, as the inclement weather kept their verbally incontinent and wailing mother at Longbourn for the duration. Elizabeth chose to refrain while their mother and younger sisters complained incessantly of Bingley's loss and of his using Jane very ill. Thankfully, word had not yet reached Meryton, for the townsfolk would enjoy this piece of gossip at the Bennet's expense. Elizabeth did fear that none other than their Aunt Phillips would eventually spread the rumour after one of her visits.
Charlotte Lucas, now Mrs. Collins, left for Kent after spending her wedding night at Lucas Lodge a sev'night previously. Lady Catherine de Bourgh, it seemed, could not be without her parson for Christmas services or the weeks leading up to that great religious event. Sending a post rider to hurry the marriage along, Mr. Collins presence had been demanded forthwith ensuring the couple would arrive to Hunsford early in December. That great lady went so far as to provide Mr. Collins the funds necessary to purchase a common licence and remove them to Kent at the earliest possible moment by hired equipage suitable for a newly married man.
Charlotte, believing visits to her childhood home would be few and far between in the next years, made Lizzy promise to accompany Sir William Lucas and Maria when they came to her in March. The night before her wedding, Charlotte insisted her friend write often and tell her all the news of Meryton. The soon-to-be bride appeared very nervous in the days leading to her wedding. Elizabeth kept her council but understood why. The very thought of Mr. Collins' touch was abhorrent to her in any socially acceptable situation, and she could not conceive of enduring the intimacies required of his wife. Still, the marriage had occurred on time, and the new Mrs. Collins would now be organising her home to her meticulous standards.
Still contemplating Jane's earlier words, Lizzy looked around the garden as she played for time to consider her answer on what had become of the rogue, Mr. Wickham. Kitty and Lydia passed their time playing quoits in the corner. Mary sat with her nose in a book under a tree; she still couldn't understand why Mr. Collins had passed Mary over as she would be eminently suitable as a parson's wife. The Militia no longer called as Mr. Bennet refused to have the officers entertain his daughters. Mrs. Bennet continued to lament the loss of four or five thousand a year and eligible men in red coats calling in a loud voice. Indeed, the echoes could be heard even here in the garden. Mr. Wickham's behaviour, which had become the talk of the town now he'd disappeared, found any gentleman of a soldiering persuasion barred from polite society. It made for a very long and unvaried start to December with the harsh, stormy sky constantly threatening a squall.
"Jane," Elizabeth looked to the sky with a concerned expression. She had hoped to hide the tumultuous feelings capturing her heart and mind.
One dissolute man gaining admittance to Meryton society had ruined the prospects for so many, just like the dark, encircling clouds. Although she could not place Mr. Bingley's leaving, nor Mr. Darcy's aloof nature at that man's feet, he rose like the spectre of darkness on the horizon, threatening and possibly destructive to all who stood in his way. Tempers frayed and suddenly flared with the prospect of a wild and vicious storm looming. And that, Lizzy had to admit, is exactly what you are, Mr. Wickham: a force of nature to be dreaded because of your ability to leave devastation in your wake.
With these continuing thoughts, Lizzy became even more disillusioned with the rigid propriety required of her station. She had learnt so much about herself, her misplaced-pride and prejudices, in the last weeks. Elizabeth took apart her life and examined every aspect of it. Miss Elizabeth Bennet came to comprehend she suffered a lack of understanding of the world in general, leading her to think better of herself and her wit than she demonstrated in reality. The confined environment and lackadaisical parenting added to her presumptions, allowing Lizzy to consider herself as better than her neighbours.
"I think it better not to enquire after that particular gentleman, if he could be called so," Lizzy finally answered Jane's question. "I believe nothing good can come from our assumptions and some of my speculations I find quite unsettling. We do not know all the circumstances and any thoughts on his whereabouts or fate would be purely conjecture."
"Do you speak of Mr. Wickham, Lizzy," Jane asked, the light tone filled with intrigue. Indeed, they had not spoken of that individual for some time, yet Jane knew he continued to plague her sister's thoughts.
"Is that not of whom you spoke?" Elizabeth asked with a confused expression.
"I comprehend your feeling in regard to that gentleman," pausing, Jane decided not to say more. Rather, she would allow Elizabeth to direct their conversation so she might better gauge her sister's mind.
They had discussed his sudden disappearance, and it's meaning for the town of Meryton, in the days after the event, but not since. The Bennet sisters declared to each other, Mr. Wickham had come to some very disreputable ending, most probably at the hands of his fellow officers who now refused to utter his name. However, there were many other hands who would gladly give judgement. Mr. Champion, the baker, whose daughter had been meddled with, expressed his anger most vociferously, and described candidly what he'd do to Wickham should he ever have the opportunity. Indeed, every shopkeeper in town brayed for the man's blood as his debts were revealed. The sisters now understood Colonel Foster's remark about the Militia not finding a welcome reception everywhere. Anyone wearing a Red Coat no longer received admittance to society in Meryton, nor could they step into a shop without coin in their pocket.
"I was referring to Mr. Bingley," Jane finally offered, her hesitant tone held a note of sadness she'd so far managed to keep locked deeply inside. Only with Lizzy could she admit the hurt lurking in her battered heart.
"Oh, Jane," Elizabeth stopped walking and turned her attention to her sister, offering a comforting embrace. The gloom had not abated in the days since the tenants at Netherfield removed to London. If anything, Miss Bennet's sadness deepened with the passing days as she lost all hope for their return. For her beloved Jane to mention his name, she must be at an extremely low ebb.
"I still think of him as the most amiable man of my acquaintance," Jane confessed, looking into the darkening horizon but not seeing the danger of rain. "But there, I have confessed my folly to you, and will think of him no more. He will be forgot."
"Let us hope the people of Meryton are allowed to forget the tenants of Netherfield just as quickly," Lizzy stated. She feared the damage her mother's imprudent words, and Aunt Phillips lips, would cause Jane's sensitive heart and respectable reputation.
"You should not be afraid for me," Jane consoled, with a sad expression. "I am in no danger. It is other people's remarks I dread."
"Then I shall venture not a word and glare at anyone who dares mention his name," Lizzy tried to tease. Instead her words came out piteously. Looking to the sky once more, tears of frustration gathering in her eyes. "Our life seems full of such disappointments. These last weeks I have considered so many of the truths I held dear, taken them out and re-examined them. I find my world changing, evolving, and I don't want to face the consequences."
"Perhaps it is youwho has changed, Lizzy," Jane spoke quietly but, with such a determination, her words could not be ignored.
The entire family noticed the difference in Elizabeth Bennet. It started the night of the ball. During the carriage ride home Lizzy sat quietly in a corner, eyes closed, ignoring her loud and vulgar family. Not so much as a smile appeared, even with her father's diverting comments, which were aimed at forcing her out of her mood. Lydia's complaining increased in volume the farther the carriage travelled from Netherfield, eventually forcing everyone else to stop speaking. She could not understand why they had to leave so early and take her away from the officers. In the weeks since, Lydia blamed Elizabeth completely for the loss of all her fun. Resentful in temperament when she did not get her way, Lydia's behaviour deteriorated to the point where even their father despaired of her.
"I fear you are correct," Lizzy smiled sadly. "I have had my opinions of Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy changed so suddenly and irrevocably, I find the change disturbing to say the least. To think that I, myself, have been filled with the pride that I accused Mr. Darcy of displaying mortifies me, Dearest Jane. How many of my thoughts are tainted by a lack of understanding regarding my own character? Am I so prejudiced as to make assumptions on a single meeting? Even you had a better opinion of Charlotte on accepting Mr. Collins. I could not see past my dislike of the man to her situation in life and what it would mean to her family to have her so well settled. I am ashamed of my behaviour towards my friend."
"And yet," Jane smiled with that serene expression she'd perfected early in life, "Charlotte asked you to write and come to her in March, knowing that Mr. Collins offered for you first and you had refused him. I think that speaks well of your enduring friendship, Lizzy."
"I could not have thought so well of Charlotte's decision," Elizabeth's cheeks coloured with mortification, "had Mr. Darcy not shown me the errors of my ways."
"How do you feel about Mr. Darcy, Lizzy," Jane asked now her sister broached the subject. Clearly, Mr. Darcy looked at her sister a great deal whilst in Hertfordshire and had paid many compliments by singling Miss Elizabeth Bennet out at Lucas Lodge, and then again at the Netherfield ball. Both Jane and Charlotte pointed out that fact while Elizabeth continued to state he only made her feel uneasy and wished he would not come into society. While her mouth said one thing, the elder Miss Bennet perceived another from her body language. "I believe, under your hurt, you like Mr. Darcy because he challenges you."
"I hardly know my feelings where that man is concerned," Elizabeth once again looked to the sky, confused and ill at ease. "I cannot think as ill of him as I once did. I find his pride and arrogance difficult to forgive, even given the truth of his history with Mr. Wickham. Mr. Darcy displayed his disdain for the townsfolk of Meryton long before Mr. Wickham arrived. To call a young lady 'tolerable' and 'not handsome enough to tempt him' is a capital offence. He is no gentleman, for Mr. Darcy has wounded my pride and I find I cannot forgive him for it."
"Oh, Lizzy," Jane commented, the sound contained a deep sadness. She could still see elements of that very pride in her sister. Elizabeth's mind, once made up, could not be easily swayed. "I think you protest too much. Indeed, you allow your own stubborn conceit to speak when, in your heart, you know Mr. Darcy did not want to come into society. What if you were to meet Mr. Darcy again and he apologised for his remark? Would you think better of him then?"
"I will never have the opportunity to be in company with the likes of Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth stated forcefully, her expression one of mystification. "We are never to know that gentleman well enough to form an opinion of his true character for we travel in very different circles."
"Think, Lizzy, where it possible by some miracle you came across the gentleman?" Jane pushed the point, attempting to make her sister see what she observed.
"Mr. Darcy confuses me," Lizzy conceded as she considered her sister's ideas. "He is all brooding, disdainful silence one moment, argumentative the next and then able to hold an intelligent conversation with those he knows well. Four days in the same house and still I have no real understanding of the man, nor do I ever wish too. Your point is moot."
"Perhaps," Jane offered without rancour, "because of that continuing prejudice causing you to look upon him with a negative eye. It is easy to find fault if that is what you intend to find, Lizzy. In order to truly become acquainted with someone, you must forgive them their faults, and see behind the socially acceptable façade we all wear, to the character hidden in their thoughts and actions."
"You have humbled me. I shall attempt to be more like you in the future, Dearest Jane," Elizabeth took her sister's arm once again and they began to move off. "I shall be angelic, and think well of everyone until there is absolute proof of their true character being incomprehensibly bad."
"I do not think so well of everyone, Lizzy," Jane commented with a sudden frown. "I simply do not say anything when I have doubts, allowing them the possibility of proving me wrong."
"What," Elizabeth tried for a shocked expression. It failed as her smile reached her eyes and a genuine laugh escaped her lips. "It would take the likes of Mr. Wickham and his abhorrent behaviour for you to speak ill of anyone. I shall refuse to believe it!"
There did not seem much to say after that. The sisters continued to walk around the garden for a few minutes in companionable silence. Both were lost in the many thoughts their conversation caused, when a grin erupted on Elizabeth Bennet's face.
"What if you were to go to London with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner after Christmas," Elizabeth suggested suddenly. "I'm sure they would be happy to have you."
"Lizzy, why would you have me go to London?" Jane's disappointment shone in her eyes. "Is it not plain enough? Mr. Bingley no longer cares for me. Caroline wrote that he is much engaged with Mr. Darcy and his sister in her last letter. But I confess I find it difficult to," stumbling, the elder Bennet sighed, "understand why he paid me such attention if this is indeed the case. What could he have meant by it?"
"That would have to be the meanest thing I have ever heard you say!" Elizabeth looked shocked.
"Perhaps," Jane managed a watery smile, "your new countenance is infectious, Lizzy. I am having trouble accepting a man as amiable as Mr. Bingley could pay attentions to a young lady without intent."
"You need a change of perspective and society, Dear Jane," Elizabeth comment sagely. "You are sad here and cannot get away from our Mother's constant retelling of your disappointment. A change in location is just what you need to take your mind off your troubles. I believe you will be all the better for a different, kinder, politer society without the constant reminders in Meryton, and with all the amusements our aunt and uncle can offer you."
"And you?" Jane enquired, understanding their mother would turn on Lizzy the moment she removed to London. When Mrs. Bennet lost the opportunity to lament over Jane, she would focus instead on the refusal of Mr. Collins and loss of Longbourn to Charlotte Collins. "Will you accept all the vexation of our Mother's nerves and cope with it alone?"
"You forget, I am for Hunsford in March," a short laugh bubbled up, catching Lizzie unaware. "Until then, I have the calm of Papa's library, and not a word of good sense between our younger sisters and mother to keep me company. I shall survive, Jane, and learn to overcome my pride and prejudice, as you would want me to do. Who knows, perhaps you will gain the opportunity to meet with Mr. Darcy in town and take his likeness. Perhaps he will be in a mood to give you consequence."
Before Jane could reply, the first drops of rain started. The five young women made it inside as a flash of lighting split the sky, followed seconds later by a peel of thunder rolling overhead. The storm played out overnight, but a constant misty drizzle settled in until the Gardiner's arrived a few days before Christmas.