Lost Chapter 2
Mr. Bennet leaned forward and gripped the railing in front of his pew. Beside him Mrs. Bennet was keening, rocking back and forth, the high wailing sound stinging like salt rubbed into a wound stretching from his head to his heart. He shook his head and pulled himself up. Behind him a chorus of 'whys?' swirled, came together, increased, and started moving towards the altar.
Mr. Bennet stepped into the aisle. He walked to the point where his erstwhile son-in-law to be had made his declaration and tried, without success, to get the attention of the crowd. He saw the sexton standing off to the side and made a mute appeal.
"Silence!" roared Mr. Tatum, a former bo'sun in the Royal Navy until a French cannonball had swept away his right foot and his naval career along with it back in '05. Quiet almost broke out, defeated only by Mrs. Bennet continuing to express her misery, but Mr. Bennet at least had the attention of everyone else. He nodded his thanks to the sexton.
Accompanied by the eerie counterpart provided by his wife, Mr. Bennet spoke.
"There having been no wedding, there will be no wedding breakfast. Yes, I confirm the marriage settlement was very generous. I will not answer any questions about it so do not bother to ask. Longbourn will not be receiving visitors today, nor for the foreseeable future. Do not importune us to satisfy your need for gossip. Today, we have made enough sport for you to laugh at for next month at least. Now begone."
Within five minutes, thanks to Mr. Tatum chivvying the dawdlers, the church and grounds were empty of all but the Bennets, Phillips and Gardiners.
"Kitty and Lydia help your aunts get your mother back the house and then take down all the wedding decorations. Mary …"
Lydia interrupted her father. "But Papa, I want to …"
"Damn your insolence! I am tired of daughters doing whatever they want without regard to others. One more word and it's back to the nursery for you. Do you understand?"
Lydia looked down so her father could not see her curl her lip at him as she nodded her agreement.
"Mary, you and Jane get rid of the wedding breakfast food. Give it away, and if you can't, feed it to the pigs. I don't want any reminders of this farce left in the house. Now go."
Mr. Bennet turned to the altar. Jane was hugging Elizabeth, rubbing her back.
"Jane, go help Mary."
Jane parted from Elizabeth. "Papa, Lizzy needs …"
"Elizabeth needs nothing. She is entire of herself. Now go."
Jane gave Elizabeth a pat on the arm and left.
Mr. Bennet waited until everyone else had left the church. He approached Elizabeth, took out his pocket watch and opened the lid. "It is now quarter of noon; I expect to see you in my study at the hour of one." He snapped the lid shut. "You had best use the time to contemplate your sins against your sisters."
"My sisters?" said Elizabeth.
"You have ruined them, as surely you have ruined yourself." Mr. Bennet turned away from Elizabeth and started walking down the aisle towards the church door.
"Papa" cried Elizabeth. Mr. Bennet did not turn or stop. He continued on his way. Elizabeth sank down and sat on the steps of the chancel. The faint click of the door closing reverberated throughout the church.
Elizabeth hung her head and tried holding her breath to forestall tears but failed. Through her watery eyes she saw she was sitting on rose petals, petals from her bouquet. She tried to gather them up but her gloves prevented such fine work. She peeled them off. She wiped her tears away with her left glove and then, not having her reticule with her, she started stuffing petals into her right glove.
She gathered what petals she could and then tied the wrist of her right glove shut with a ribbon she pulled from her bouquet. She held the glove to her nose and sniffed the faint scent of the rose petals. She forced a small smile – a memento mori sachet indeed.
She was not so lost in her mindless task that she did not hear the church door open and close and footsteps coming towards but she did not look up until she saw boots before her. When she did look up, she felt a small catch in her heart. It was Lieut. Wickham.
"You stupid cow!" he began. He threw up his arms. "You've wrecked everything! What were you thinking? To reject Darcy?" He shook his head. "To think I thought you intelligent." He blew out his breath.
"But George … how could you want me to marry such an arrogant, conceited, selfish man?" Elizabeth's tone was rising beyond her control. "After all he's done to you?"
"Done to me? He hasn't done to me what he probably should."
"He withheld the living from you."
"Can you imagine me parsing bible verses?" He waved his hand. "Besides, he paid me three thousand pounds in lieu of the living."
"But you said …"
He shrugged "I thought a little sympathy for me on your part it might facilitate the lifting of your skirts for me." He leered at her.
"George!" Elizabeth stood and backed up until she felt the altar behind her.
"Relax, I'm not about to profane you in this of all places."
"If Mr. Darcy is so generous with you why did he get so angry with you when he saw you that day in Meryton when we first met?"
"Well, that might have been because, not two months before, he just barely prevented me from eloping from his sister, and her dowry of thirty thousand pounds." Wickham laughed. "That shows what a prince Darcy is; if his cousin, Col. Fitzwilliam, had caught me, I'd be mouldering in an unmarked grave somewhere."
Elizabeth squinched her face up. "You said I wrecked everything. What did you mean?"
Wickham stared at her a moment and then nodded. "I suppose there's no point in not laying it out for you now that all is lost … if you had married him, he would have treated you very generously. Your pin money would have been the envy of the ton. Now Darcy has many abilities. While his pride never deserts him; he still is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and agreeable with those he … "
"He detests me."
Wickham held his hand up. "Maybe now, but I assure you that as recent as two hours ago he was besotted with you. I saw him arrive at the church. He was whistling a cheerful little ditty. He was happy to be marrying you."
"But …"
"Don't. I know Darcy better than you will ever will. Now, where was I? Ah yes, while Darcy is all of what I said, he's not passionate. I'd be keeping an eye on you and when I saw that you were bored with him, I'd swoop in to provide you with all the passion you were in need of. You'd support me with your pin money and I'd be your cicisbeo." He laughed. "And depending on the timing, maybe our son would be the one to inherit Pemberley. Wouldn't that be delicious."
"I'd never …"
"You would. I know your type. All it takes is a whispered compliment tickling your ear and you're in love." He scoffed. "And once you thought you were in love; you'd throw over everything, your family, your reputation, all for the sake of that warm feeling in your belly."
"That's enough, Mr. Wickham. You should leave."
Wickham bowed. "Good day, Miss Bennet. Enjoy the rest of your soon to be miserable life." He took two steps towards the door but then he stopped and turned back to her. "Chase after Darcy; prostrate yourself before him; be abject in your apologies to him. All might not be yet lost. Maybe he'd take you back." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "And if he does, I'll be there to warm your bed when you grow bored with him and come to yearn for me."
Elizabeth glared at him and if a non-sacred object had been at hand it would be flying at his head. Wickham laughed and left the church whistling the tune to 'Black Jack Davy'.
Elizabeth waited until she was sure Wickham was well away from the church and then she followed. As she walked up the aisle, she noticed that about every third or fourth step there was a rose petal. She followed the trail of petals out the door and to the gate to the church yard.
The last petal was on the road outside the gate, about where Darcy's coach had been parked, waiting to carry them off on their honeymoon.
