Elizabeth's ride back to Hertfordshire would be remembered as the darkest day of her life. To Elizabeth's mind what Lydia had done was an act of treachery so egregious she knew that time would never heal the intensity of heartbreak she felt as the carriage took her away from Kent and slowly drew her closer to Longbourn. She found her emotions fluctuating between raw rage and the deepest sorrow. As for leaving Kent, rational thought told her that her budding relationship with Darcy could not possibly have had a storybook ending but her heart had betrayed her. She had allowed a faint flicker of hope and now all hope had gone, extinguished by the perfidy of her youngest sister. She would never forgive Lydia and for own sanity, she had to forget Fitzwilliam Darcy.
As the coach neared the small estate her thoughts turned to the distant past when her return to her childhood home invariably brought her a deep feeling of warmth, whimsically believing that the house welcomed her and offered protection from all that could harm her. Sadly those days were far behind her in a time that would never come again. Today, as the carriage drove though the gates of Longbourn she fought back tears seeing the old house as a prison from which she might never escape.
Elizabeth was greeted warmly by Jane who briefed her in the entrance hall. Despite having left Brighton five days earlier the family have not received a word from Lydia and though the news of her elopement was nearly four days old the house was still in an uproar. Their father had locked himself in the library with strict orders not to be disturbed. How like him Elizabeth thought bitterly. She didn't attempt to seek entrance to his private domain nor did she spare a look at his closed door not sure she could contain her disgust with him.
When Elizabeth reached her mother's room she found her parent recumbent on her chaise lounge with a table on either side of her laden with all the essentials that accompany dissatisfaction. There was a pot of tea, a glass of lemonade, several plates of various sweets and the requisite bottles of smelling salts. Mrs. Bennet was inconsolable, dramatic and loud in her grief and frustration. She blamed Colonel Forster and his wife for not taking better care of Lydia. She blamed Kitty whom she suspected knew of Lydia's plan yet had said nothing. She blamed Mr. Bennet for not being stricter with their youngest daughter. And she blamed that blackguard Wickham for using her daughter so ill. No word of Lydia's immoral actions escaped her lips, nor was there any reference to her own culpability in the fall from grace of her youngest daughter. Kitty whined constantly contending that she could not see what was so wrong with what Lydia had done and Jane patiently tried to sooth her mother's nerves assuring her that all would be well.
Elizabeth eyed her mother and Kitty with distaste but said little for the better part of ten minutes before she left the room in disgust and opened the door to her own room slamming it shut behind her. When Jane followed desperately trying to offer comfort to her grieving sister, Elizabeth would not have it. "How did we come to this?" she cried. "We live in a house of fools! Lydia has destroyed us all."
"Oh Lizzie, please don't say that. Surely Lydia is married by now. I expect the happy couple to arrive here at any moment."
Elizabeth stared at her sister in disbelief, "then you're a fool, Jane." She softened her words by taking her sister's hand. "I wish I had your goodness, sweet Jane, but I don't. Wickham will never marry Lydia. Why should he? Think about it, Jane. What does she have to recommend herself beyond her youth? She isn't beautiful and she's stupid and willful. She has no dowry and no title. What can he possibly see in her? How will they live on his small salary? You know how she loves to spend money. It's a complete disaster." Jane bit her lip and looked away, a sure sign that something was preying on her mind. Elizabeth groaned, "what is it, Jane? Is there more to tell?"
"Oh Lizzie. There are rumors that Lieutenant Wickham left town owing heavy debts to the tradesmen in Meryton."
"Oh dear heaven, that just proves my point. No good can come of this. I wish he was dead!"
Jane recoiled in horror. "Lizzie! You can't mean that."
Elizabeth stared at her sister, "and why shouldn't I think that? What right did he have to come and destroy our peaceful existence? He's cheated honest hard-working men and he's deflowered our youngest sister. Think, Jane! What sort of man must he be to steal away a young girl half his age with not a word to her family?"
Jane grew visibly pale, "please, Lizzie, don't say that."
"Jane, what do you suppose they've been doing for the past five days?" When Jane lowered her head and didn't reply, Elizabeth took pity on her. It was just at these times that she missed Charlotte Lucas who was able to speak without embarrassment on any subject. "Is Charlotte home yet?"
Jane wiped away her tears, "not that I know of, but we haven't seen any of the Lucas family. Not even Maria."
"Have any of our neighbors called on us?"
"Only our Aunt Phillips."
So the shunning had begun.
That evening Mr. Bennet graced the dinner table with his usual philosophic appearance and said as little as was his habit of saying. Elizabeth greeted her father quietly and he allowed how good it was to see her again. No further words were exchanged between father and daughter. Mercifully Mrs. Bennet remained in her rooms so their meal was consumed in relative quiet. After dessert Elizabeth retired to her room and readied herself for bed. It had been an exhausting day.
When Jane rapped on her door Elizabeth was inclined to ignore it wanting only to sleep away her sorrow but she could not be that cruel and bade her sister to enter.
"I won't stay long, Lizzie, but with all our troubles, I forgot to ask after our sister Mary."
"Mary is quite well and seems to be happy in her situation. As you know, she is with child and seems to be happy to be so. There is not much more to say about my sojourn in Kent. And what of you, Jane? How do you fare? You look so tired."
"I am well, Lizzie and Aunt Phillips stayed with us for two days which was a great relief to us all."
"I suppose the entire neighborhood knows of our troubles."
"We have not been to town since we received the letter from Colonel Forster, and aside from Aunt Phillips, no one has visited us. Perhaps all this will be forgotten when the new tenant moves into Netherfield. It will give people something else to talk about."
"So Netherfield is still to be let?"
"I've not heard otherwise," Jane replied, unable to restrain the slight blush that rose to her cheeks.
"Jane," Elizabeth teased, "are you in love?"
"Of course not, Lizzie. But I will confess that I like Mr. Bingley very well and look forward to having new neighbors."
Elizabeth knew very well that the heart can't stop and continue to beat but as she stood and walked to the window she felt dizzy hearing that name in this house. "Mr. Bingley, you say?"
"Yes. He plans to move in during the first week of June. He's bringing his married sister and her husband as well as several friends. He told me that this will be his first estate and he has a very close friend who owns a large estate in Derbyshire who will be accompanying him to teach him the fundamentals of running an estate. He's so excited about it that you can't help but smile when he talks about it. It will be so nice to meet new people, don't you think. Lizzie?"
Elizabeth turned and stared at her sister trying not to look too stricken. She knew that she should warn her sister that if by some miracle Lydia did marry Wickham, Mr. Bingley would soon enough know the true facts of such a patched up affair. His friend would tell him of it. Once Mr. Bingley knew of the disgrace that Lydia had brought upon the Bennet family it was unlikely that he would show Jane any more preference. More things had been spoiled by Lydia's depraved indifference than her family's good name and she felt her heart break for Jane and though she did not want to admit it, for herself as well.
"Oh, Lizzie, you look so tired and here I am chatting away when you are so in need of sleep."
Lizzie clasped her beloved sister holding her tight offering a silent prayer that no harm would come to her. "I'll be fine after a good night's sleep."
When Jane returned to her own room Elizabeth blew the candle out and stood for several minutes staring out in the direction of Netherfield thinking of Darcy. She had convinced herself that she would never see him again and now to discover that within three weeks he would be so near and yet so far away. A house of fools, indeed. And she was the biggest fool. She climbed under the covers and clasped the pillow to her face and wept bitter tears.
Three days later as she stood at her bedroom window she saw Charlotte Lucas walking slowly through the gates of Longbourn and she wasted no time but flew down the stairs and through the door not stopping until she held her dearest friend in her arms. Their reunion was joyous and tearful and for the first time in days Elizabeth found herself laughing. Charlotte's gentle smile had a way of lightening Elizabeth's spirit and she allowed herself to revert back to the days of her childhood when she would speak little but would listen hard, absorbing her friend's good judgment. Charlotte's basic philosophy was simple enough. If there was nothing you could do about a particular situation, it was a waste of energy to worry about it.
Elizabeth interrupted Charlotte only once, "I will never forgive Lydia for what's she's done, Charlotte. Nor can I forgive my parents for what has happened. Father stays locked in his rooms while mother is ensconced in her rooms growing fat. Naturally, Kitty whines while Jane looks serene. They leave me in utter despair"
"Lydia will surface eventually, Lizzie, and then you can worry all you want, but at the moment why fight the wind? Your family needs you now. You're the sensible one, Lizzie, and think how your father must feel? He's a man of few words but he does love his family or he would have left you years ago. You're his favorite and he knows you're disappointed in him. I think you must show him some charity. Then of course, there's your mother. Lydia's her youngest and her favorite...I expect Lydia reminds her of her own youth. She may blame everyone else for what has transpired but I'm sure that deep down inside she feels responsible. And don't forget Jane and Kitty. Consider what must be going through their minds. They must be worried about their own futures and fear how Lydia's actions will tar their own reputations."
"I don't believe Jane has given a thought as to how this will impact her own life. She speaks blithely about the new tenants at Netherfield Park and how wonderful it will be to have new neighbors...in particular, the handsome new master. And as for Kitty, she doesn't think what Lydia has done is so bad."
"Ah, Kitty. She follows wherever Lydia leads. But once she sees what breaking the rules of propriety can do to a woman she will change her tune. Whether Lydia marries her redcoat or not, I see no happiness in her future. Mother tells me that Lieutenant Wickham left the area owing the tradespeople large sums of money. If she does marry Wickham, she certainly can't return to Meryton, at least not with her husband unless he suddenly comes into a large sum of money. And if she returns to Hertfordshire without a husband, it will never be the same again. Her actions will no longer be viewed as youthful exuberance but as wild. I fear that Lydia will no longer be able to boast that she danced every dance at an assembly. No reputable man will wish to dance with her or otherwise seek her company in public."
"And that will hold for the rest of us!"
"Not necessarily. This isn't Town, after all. We live in a confined society relying on each other to ease the monotony of our lives." Charlotte allowed a wry smile, "and your mother sets an excellent table. There may be a few holdouts at first, but they will come around and life will go on."
"Oh Charlotte, how can you be so sure?"
"I can't be sure, Lizzy, but I can tell you that my sister, Maria, is desperate to visit with Kitty and offer her a shoulder to cry on but mother has been reluctant to allow the visit simply because she doesn't wish to appear to be gloating over the situation. And the Longs feel the same way. They've been biding their time so that when they visit they can offer congratulations and not consolation. Don't forget, Lizzie, that my mother has a daughter the same age as Lydia and Mrs. Long's twins are the same age as Kitty. Your sisters weren't the only young girls who needed no encouragement to chase uniforms. From the letters I received from Maria, I gathered that the entire village had lost their common sense when it came to entertaining the militia. Parties every night, shopkeepers extending credit to complete strangers...I fear, Lizzie, that only time will tell if any other young women didn't succumb to the charms of a uniform."
The two women had reached their favorite tree and sat down sharing a smile at all the memories of the past years. Charlotte opened her reticule and brought fourth two wrapped slices of gingerbread and handed one to Elizabeth. "Our cook sends her best to you, Lizzie," she said with a knowing smile.
Elizabeth visibly relaxed in the company of Charlotte Lucas whose serene countenance and plain old-fashioned sense had worked it's magic. "You make it all sound so easy, Charlotte."
"I hope not too easy, Lizzie. There is no doubt that your family is forever changed. You will eventually forgive Lydia but you will never forget what she has done. Deep inside you can never trust her again. As for your father, you'll eventually forgive him too, but you will no longer see him through the eyes of a child but see him as mortal and weak like the rest of us. Kitty will see the results of what Lydia has done to herself and she too will be changed. Even you mother can't come out of this experience unscathed. As for Jane...well, perhaps you should tell me about the new master of Netherfield."
The following day Charlotte, Maria and their mother Lady Lucas called at Longbourn. Maria forewent the pleasure of visiting Mrs. Bennet instead opting for a long walk and gossip with Kitty while Charlotte and her mother paid the ultimate sacrifice to friendship. They sat and listened to Mrs. Bennet's lamentations for the requisite half-hour, uttering murmurs of understanding and consolation, never needing words for Mrs. Bennet hardly took a breath. Besides, what could they say?
The next day Mrs. Long and Mrs. Arbuthnot, a young woman lately arrived in Meryton, called upon Mrs. Bennet with many apologies for not visiting sooner. Mrs. Bennet deemed their apologies to be sincere for she was in no position to hold a grudge and she loved nothing better than to have an audience who would listen to her lamentations without interruption.
In the next two days more neighbors began to make calls just as Charlotte had predicted. Her mother's nerves began to settle into a state of hysterics considered mild by her usual standards and Elizabeth began the process of healing the breach with her father. As angry as she had been, she missed his company and had to admit that despite his foibles, she still loved him. His sadness and admission that he had failed his family nearly broke her heart.
"You must not be so severe on yourself, Father, we are all to blame. Now that I've gotten over the shock of what's she's done, I realize that I should have made more of an effort to curb her instead of taking the easy way out and turning a blind eye to her bad conduct. I saw clearly the direction she was taking and did nothing about it."
"No Lizzie, let me for once in my life feel how much I am to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass soon enough."
The sharp rap on the door startled both of them. When Mrs. Hill entered their eyes fastened on the letter she held in her hands. Mr. Bennet took the letter in a nonchalant fashion which fooled neither their faithful servant or his daughter. Elizabeth felt her breath quicken as she watched her father open the letter and scan the contents. "It's from your uncle Gardiner. Apparently your sister showed up on his doorstep late last night. He assures us that she is safe, that no obvious harm has come to her. He begs me to come to Town immediately to discuss the story they must fabricate to account for her failed elopement for she is unmarried."
A week before Bingley was due to take residency of Netherfield it was not surprising that there was still no mention of anything in the Times relating to the discovery of a body in the slums of London. The high unemployment had caused organized crime to rear it's ugly head in the Capital thus murders were an everyday occurrence and little noticed. Indeed, it would have been remarkable if the death of a drunken soldier found behind a brothel had caused a stir with the authorities. Darcy decided it was time to put George Wickham firmly in the past and concentrate on the future. What his future was or where it lay, Darcy had not yet resolved. That Elizabeth Bennet was ever on his mind could not be disputed...not even to himself. The thought of her closed his eyes at night and delayed opening his eyes in the morning preferring to hold his pillow and imagine her in his arms. He was being foolish and fanciful. He suspected he was acting more like Bingley with his romantic fantasies The thought gave him little pleasure.
Lady Catherine, Anne and Georgiana had arrived safely at the Matlock house and were spending their days depleting the fashionable shops of Town of the finest furniture that money could buy. They were also disbursing their wealth at the fine dress shops and boutiques available to high-born women and it was proving to be an exhaustive entertainment. When Bingley issued his invitation to be his guests at Netherfield the ladies were perfectly amenable to forgo further shopping pleasure by visiting Hertfordshire while their townhouse was being painted and papered. They had been apprised by Darcy that Miss Elizabeth resided not three miles from Netherfield which gave Anne and Georgie great delight; Lady Catherine was noncommittal but the vile smells of London in the summer were making a trip to the country seem enticing and she had to confess she had grown rather fond of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and wondered how she had fared.
As for Richard, Darcy had seen little of him; he'd been spending the better part of three days traveling between their family home and his brother's townhouse on the other side of town. He'd talked himself blue in the face appealing to whatever common sense they had and pleading with them to sit down and talk together. Finally there had been a breakthrough of sorts. "Darcy you're not going to believe this! The damned fool finally sobered up and admitted that he had been lying about taking a mistress."
Darcy stared at his cousin in disbelief, "but why? What possible reason could he have to tell his wife such a tale? He must have known it would break her heart to hear him say such a thing?"
"He wanted to hurt her. But that's not the worst of it. He was also lying about not having conjugal relations with her. For the first two months he was perfectly satisfied and thought that their marriage had a chance of happiness. Then she started locking him out of her rooms."
"Did she say why?"
"According to Edmund, he wasn't meeting her needs."
"Er...what needs?"
Richard shrugged, "when he asked what needs, she would only say that he wouldn't understand. And he'd lose his temper and ask her how he could understand if she didn't tell him and she would start crying and tell him he should know without being told. She'd go on and on about her needs, that he didn't understand her, and that he treated her like a child and she wasn't a child."
"Good grief."
"Naturally, he had absolutely no idea of what she was going on about. He treated her with the utmost respect and was quite gentle with her. He finally decided it wasn't the marriage bed that was making her so unhappy. It was her damnable needs, whatever they were. And that's when he slammed out of the house and went to back to Matlock House and got drunk for three days."
"And what is her side of the story?"
"Apparently he ignores her at breakfast."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Darcy couldn't help laughing out loud, " you're joking."
"Well, I'll admit it was difficult to understand what she was saying...I didn't think it was possible for a women to weep for three hours straight...but I believe that's what she said. Apparently, he buries his face in the morning paper and completely ignores her. And when he comes home from his club she wants to know who he met there and what they spoke of. His reply is that she doesn't know him or them and what they spoke of was of no importance. The final straw was when he forgot it was her birthday. This caused her to ignore him at dinner, then lock herself in her rooms. I think what we have here is a failure to communicate."
"Edmund has always been stiff-necked but I've never seen him drunk and by your account, Juliet is a cold fish...so why all the tears? Are we missing something here? Could they really be fond of each other? It might account for the way they're acting."
"The thought has crossed my mind. I tried to get her to come back with me to Matlock House and talk with Edmund but she refused, saying his family was all against her. I tried to get Edmund to come back with me to his townhouse but he refused. Since half the servants have known Juliet all her life, he thinks they'll all be against him. I've known two-year olds who made more sense than the two of them."
"Why not send them to Pemberley? It's neutral ground. They'd have the place all to themselves without any outside influence."
Richard stood and poured two liberal glasses of brandy. "What a brilliant idea, cousin," he said, handing a glass to Darcy. "They'll be on their way to Pemberley first thing in the morning."
Darcy regarded Richard with amusement. "I take it they're packing as we speak?"
"Indeed they are. And they are most grateful for your kind generosity."
Darcy wasn't sure what to expect when he stepped into the club's dining room and spied Bingley sitting at their favorite table. He'd received one of Bingley's scribbled notes which to Darcy's surprise was so legible he'd been able to decode it by the time he finished his first cup of coffee. Across from his friend sat another young man who Darcy didn't recognize. He assumed that this unknown man was the surprise that Bingley promised him when he demanded that Darcy join him for lunch. When Bingley saw his friend approaching he stood up with that freckled grin which could soften the coldest heart, "Darcy! Come meet Peter Postlewaite."
A tall slimly built young man who was possessed of dark good looks made more startling by his piercing dark blue eyes regarded Darcy for an appraising moment before bowing courteously. "Delighted to meet you at last Mr. Darcy."
"As I am, Mr. Postlewaite. I confess there were times I thought you were but a figment of Bingley's imagination. He has spoken of you with fondness for so many years but the timing never seemed to be right for meeting each other."
"I fear that was my fault entirely. I have been tied to my estate since I left Cambridge four years ago. It is not easy being a gentleman farmer."
"Indeed it is not." As the three men took their seats Darcy glanced at Bingley and suppressed a smile. Bingley was so transparent. He could not hide the hope that he would like his friend and at least at first glance, he could see no reason he wouldn't. The young man had a relaxed and open countenance and Darcy was prepared to like him for Bingley's sake. "I understand that you come from Nottinghamshire, Mr. Postlewaite."
"I do. I don't know how much you know of my history, sir, but I am only the second son and was meant for the army or the church. I had already decided on the army where I would go forth and do heroic deeds for my country, get killed for my effort and lie in an unmarked grave for eternity."
Darcy laughed, "sounds like plan."
"I thought so at the time. Unfortunately, it was not to be. When I returned home there was a great party to celebrate my mastery of Latin, Greek and history...both modern and ancient...and planned to spend the rest of my life living in a tent when I wasn't sludging through mud and getting shot at."
The droll way he spoke had Darcy and Bingley so convulsed with mirth their hands were shaking as they reached for their glasses of wine. "So how," Darcy managed, "did you become the heir?"
"Ah, well. The morning after my triumphant return I arose with a giant hangover to a brouhaha the likes of which I had never known. My brother the heir to all he surveyed, had run off to the Americas to become a cowboy."
Darcy choked on his wine and took several moments to regain his composure. "Mr. Postlewaite I am truly at a loss for words."
"I can imagine. Even I find the story preposterous. And please call me Pete. Everyone else does...and Postlewaite is such a mouthful."
"An old and revered name."
"As is yours, Mr. Darcy." He dared a sly glance in Bingley's direction. "Poor Bing will have to wait at least a century before his name will be spoken of in hushed voices."
"If ever," Bingley laughed.
"Nonsense, Bing, you've taken the first step." Pete regarded Darcy with a gentle smile, "I don't know whether you're aware of it, Mr. Darcy, but every lesson on estate management you ever gave Bingley, he passed on to me...with all the the requisite blots, of course. You have proved to be an invaluable source of good advice and I'm indebted to you."
Darcy returned his smile, "It's nice to know he was listening. When he gets that blank look on his face I never know if he's thinking of what to wear to the theatre or which lady he's in love with today."
Both men regarded Bingley who was grinning broadly, visibly relaxing.
The next two hours passed easily and by the time they were sipping their second brandy it was a merry little party. Darcy wasn't surprised when Bingley asked Pete to join them all at Netherfield.
"That sounds wonderful, Bing, but are you sure the beauteous Miss Caroline will have no objection?" Pete saw the arched brow of Darcy and grinned, "lately I've been disappointed in love. Therefore, all females are beauteous to me."
Bingley was all concern, "nothing too serious, I hope."
Pete shook his head, "not too. The fair Helena thought that a courtship lasting six years without an offer was a bit too long." At Bingley's look of horror, Pete continued, "Living in a colder climate makes a man move more slowly," Pete drawled. "The truth is we've been friends for years and seeing each other had become a habit that excited neither of us. It would have been a good match but we both wanted more from a marriage. So she asked me not to call again which was no hardship as her father's estate lies twelve miles from mine and a long distant courtship is difficult at best. But now I must find another lady who will look upon me as a most charming companion whom she cannot live without."
Darcy raised his glass, "good luck."
"I'll need it for I sometimes think I'm not half as charming as my mother says I am. Poor woman, she so wants to see me happy and settled. I hate to see her disappointed."
"There are many handsome ladies in Hertfordshire," Bingley said, "that might take a fancy to you and as far as my sister is concerned, I make the major decisions in my house."
Darcy rolled his eyes, "of course you do Bingley. I'm sure that when Caroline learns that there will be ten of us sleeping and eating at Netherfield she will be overjoyed."
Bingley turned pale which for a reason he could not fathom sent Darcy and Peter Postlewaite into gales of laughter. Darcy couldn't wait to introduce this young man to his cousin Richard. Between the two of them, there should be ample amusement when they settled into Netherfield.