Thank you for all your comments! A Guest wondered at the Bennets not knowing about Margaret. I say: indeed! I address this here, but I guess some suspension of disbelief is required anyways. :-)
This is the last part of the story; a couple vignettes will follow next week (at the same place). I hope you'll enjoy your reading!
Longbourn, Saturday, December 28
The Gardiners had come to spend Christmas at Longbourn and were to depart shortly before the new year. Mrs Bennet had given in their honour more teas and suppers than was usual, and as a result, the officers were often seen at Longbourn. One of them, though, appeared to avoid the place altogether. When the family was gathered once their guests of the day had departed, Lydia complained bitterly about Mr Wickham's absence. Mrs Gardiner, who was seated near Elizabeth in a quiet corner of the room, heard this.
"Is Mr Wickham much present at Longbourn, Lizzy?" she asked her niece with alarm.
"Not as much as he would have been had you not warned us by letter, Aunt, but still too often for my comfort. I have since reflected on what he said, on how he told me a great deal of personal information when we had barely met. I had believed him up to the point when he mentioned Mr Darcy's sister, and that makes me wonder whether I should have questioned him at all had I not had a direct contradiction of his words."
"If I remember correctly, he told you that Mr Darcy had denied him his inheritance?"
Elizabeth nodded. "Do you know more about this?"
"I do. Mr Wickham was, if he took orders, to receive a living that was Mr Darcy's to give. However, he chose another path in life and requested instead a financial compensation, which he was given. He received four thousand pounds in all, after which the gentlemen parted ways."
"Four thousand pounds?" Elizabeth cried. "And he all but said he was left destitute!"
She was aghast. If Mr Bennet predeceased his wife, the women would have to live off the interest of Mrs Bennet's portion, which was five thousand pounds. That was little for a household of women who had become accustomed to spending without care but would be more than enough for a gentleman who had no family to support.
"He went through that sum in a shockingly short amount of time and, later, requested the living again. He was, of course, refused."
"As he should have been! And now he slanders Mr Darcy out of revenge? How despicable."
"If it were only that, Lizzy …"
"There is something else?"
Mrs Gardiner looked around her.
"We have not enough privacy here, and you must keep what I am about to say for yourself only. May we go to your room?"
Elizabeth nodded, and after they had taken leave of the others, they went upstairs and settled on Elizabeth's bed. Her niece was looking at her curiously.
"I am afraid, Lizzy, that Mr Wickham is no stranger to despicable or even hateful acts," Mrs Gardiner began in a bitter voice. "Mr Darcy's younger sister is a shy and innocent young girl of barely fifteen. Last summer, Mr Wickham tried to persuade her to elope with him."
Elizabeth gasped.
"Oh, he utterly failed," her aunt added quickly, "but her companion was in league with him. Had Mr Darcy not come to visit her early, who knows what could have happened?"
Both women had quietened for a time before Elizabeth asked:
"How would you know all this, Aunt?"
"What do you think, Elizabeth?"
"Are you a good friend of Mr Darcy's elder sister? I have learned that she married a tradesman."
"This is not very far off the mark. What do you know of her?"
"That she has married beneath her station, prefers to live a discreet life, and that, contrary to what Mr Wickham claimed, Mr Darcy has not disowned her."
"He said that?"
"Yes. I have seen Mr Darcy write to her at Netherfield, and his attitude was not that of someone ashamed of his siblings. I then knew Mr Wickham to be, at best, uninformed. What I should like to know, now, is how you are so well informed."
"Will you not hazard a guess?"
"I believe you grew up in Derbyshire; did you meet the former Miss Darcy there?"
Mrs Gardiner smiled, but shook her head.
"Is her husband a partner of Uncle?"
Margaret Gardiner laughed.
"Aunt?"
"Lizzy, I am his sister."
"What? How …"
Elizabeth blinked.
"So the Uncle Fitz of whom my cousins are so fond is Mr Darcy? How did we not know about this?"
"Your uncle and my father both thought it best if your mother did not know of the connection she gained. You know how she is: she would have tried to reap some advantage from it, and at the time, we wished for some tranquillity. Besides, not many people know who I am, and I should like to keep it that way for now, though it will change soon, I believe."
"I still cannot believe that I never enquired about your maiden name," said Elizabeth, shaking her head. "Still, how did Miss Darcy of Pemberley marry Mr Gardiner of Gracechurch Street?"
"Your uncle bought the house when we married, so at that time he was of Cheapside," Mrs Gardiner said with a smile. "My father had met him while seeking some investment schemes and had been suitably impressed by him. Contrary to one of my aunts, he cared less about the distinctions of rank than about the individual value of his acquaintances, which also explains why he treated Mr Wickham as he would have a second son—but I digress. At that time I was one and twenty; I had been out for three years but had little interest in the Season. My first season had been difficult. My mother had passed away three years previously; my godmother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had taken me under her wing, but I still missed Mamma. Nobody caught my eye that first year, nor the following. I had decided that I should end a spinster; I should be a hostess for my father until Fitzwilliam married—he was only eighteen then—and should later care for his children, teaching them to embroider or play the pianoforte."
"And then you met Uncle."
"No. Then I met a very handsome, very charismatic young man of the upper circles and had my head turned. We flirted a lot, and at a ball that was held by my relatives, we ended secluding ourselves in a room. I thought he would call on my father shortly afterwards; instead his attentions ceased, and I learned in the Society pages of his engagement to the daughter of a Duke. I was, you can imagine, heartbroken and made known to my father my decision of wanting nothing further to do with the Ton henceforth. He commiserated with me, though he did not know the extent of my foolishness. He thought the young man had not acted well, courting two ladies at the same time, but there was nothing he could do. I let him believe that. Until …" Mrs Gardiner paused.
"Aunt?"
"You are too sensible a girl to be missish about this, Elizabeth, but that doesn't make it easier to say. I discovered I was pregnant. With a younger sister, staying home was not a possibility. When I confirmed his suspicion about who the father was, my father dismissed the idea of going after him—he was not yet married then but was both too well connected and too unpleasant for Papa to see any advantage in confronting him. He began to think of alternatives and gave me a choice between marrying someone he found suitable and leaving the family for a time to have my baby, who would then be placed with a good family near Pemberley. I could not resign myself to losing my child and told him that, if he found someone I liked, I should prefer the first option. This is how I met your uncle."
"Your father picked him for you?" Elizabeth seemed horrified.
"Yes. My dowry helped him to expand his business and beget the success he can boast of today."
"Uncle married you for money?" Of all the things Mrs Gardiner thought Elizabeth would be distressed about, this was not one she had imagined.
"He married me because he respected my father and felt compassion towards me. We did have a conversation before things were irreversible and found that we had enough common interests to be reasonably happy together. Your uncle is not mercenary, Lizzy." Mrs Gardiner then sighed. "Of course, this might have put ideas in Mr Wickham's head."
"How do you mean?"
"I wonder if the fact of my marriage to your uncle being eventually accepted by our families made that man believe that he could hope for the same result if he attempted the same with Georgiana—conveniently forgetting the fact that our match was put forward by my father. Similarly, as Georgiana only witnessed the happy outcome of our union, she might have been more easily charmed. Still, thank heavens, she knew that eloping was wrong and wrote me a letter, asking for advice. I could not leave London at the time and neither could your uncle, but I sent word to Fitzwilliam who dashed from London to Ramsgate and put an end to the scheme. Georgiana was desolate on realising her suitor was only interested in her dowry and in hurting our brother."
Silence followed that account. After a while, Elizabeth spoke again.
"I still do not understand why nobody knows."
"At first we kept it quiet because my uncles and aunts were unhappy with my father for allowing me to marry Edward. They never knew the reasons behind it and thought I fancied myself in love with him. Communication with my extended family was at an end for a time, which allowed us to be rather vague as to when exactly Anne was born. We met again for my father's funeral, and they have reluctantly made their peace with the connection, though they will not boast of it. Fitzwilliam and I have yet to decide whether we should wait until after Georgiana's first season to be seen together publicly or if it would be better if I were at her side during that time and reintroduced as his sister beforehand."
Elizabeth did not answer for some time, apparently reflecting on all the information she had just been imparted. When she spoke, it was on another subject altogether.
"Will you take Jane to London with you?"
"Elizabeth?"
"She has not been herself since Mr Bingley left the country. I thought that his sisters and his friend tried to keep him in London … I still believe his sisters did. But if Mr Darcy is your brother and would acknowledge you …"—Elizabeth shook her head, still astonished at the news—"I do not think he would have fought so much against the match."
"You are right, Elizabeth. He would have done more to persuade his friend to come back had he been certain of Jane's feelings."
"You and Mr Darcy spoke about them?"
"We did. I believe that, if Mr Bingley truly cares for Jane, she will not have to wait long before hearing about him."
"Truly? What a fine thing for Jane," said Elizabeth with a smile.
"You might want to come with her. I believe my brother will also appreciate being reacquainted with you."
At this her niece laughed.
"Oh, Aunt, we could barely keep from arguing whenever we were together."
"Fitzwilliam does like a good debate," said Mrs Gardiner with a smile, "and he did ask you to dance, did he not?"
Elizabeth started and fell silent. Mrs Gardiner patted her hand and let the matter rest, promising herself to revisit it at a later time.
Gracechurch Street, early January
The Darcy siblings were gathered in Mrs Gardiner's drawing room, where they were quietly discussing whilst covertly watching Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley, who were having their own private exchange on the opposite side of the room.
Margaret had sent word to her brother that she was coming back from Longbourn with her niece, who seemed to miss his friend. Darcy had come to call on them the day after their return, accompanied by Mr Bingley and Miss Darcy.
Jane Bennet, who had not been made aware of the connection, had assumed that Miss Bingley had shared with her brother the note she had sent and was disappointed on learning that, as far as he knew, no such letter had been received. She insisted that the letter must have been lost; he was doubtful but unwilling to disabuse her.
Later, on learning that her brother had been reunited with Miss Bennet and had called on her multiple times, Miss Bingley had tried to appeal to Mr Darcy for his help, only to discover that there was none to be had, and had since resigned herself to welcoming dear Jane as her future sister, if only her brother managed to propose.
Mr Bingley and Miss Bennet took their time to reacquaint themselves, and he only asked for her hand near the end of February. They did not wish to wait long before marrying and decided to do so as soon as it was possible after Easter. By then Elizabeth Bennet had gone to Hunsford to visit with her friend Charlotte who had married the heir presumptive of Longbourn, Mr Collins. Mr Darcy had planned to go to Rosings for the Holy Week, leaving Miss Darcy in the care of her elder sister. He suggested that he could bring back Elizabeth with him the week that followed, and that they could then go all together to Longbourn. This spurred some enquiries from Margaret regarding his interest in her niece. After he had confirmed that he was still thinking fondly of her, Mrs Gardiner told him that she would like it very much if her niece became her sister, but also warned him that he might have to court the lady beforehand, as she was not of the kind to fall at his feet on account of his fortune or of his position in Society. Darcy thanked her for the kindness of her hints—a wonderful instance of advice being given on such a point without being resented.
This recommendation was followed, and when summer came, Miss Elizabeth Bennet had become Mrs Darcy, much to the despair of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who had barely recovered from her eldest niece's mésalliance when her nephew announced to her his betrothal. Had she known about her younger niece's planned elopement with Mr Wickham, she might have suffered a stroke; luckily, not a syllable of it had reached her and none was likely to do so, for Mr Wickham had disappeared from England shortly before Twelfth NIght. Her ladyship railed against Mrs Gardiner for having led Darcy astray and induced him to marry without any regard for his family's wishes or, more to the point, her own wishes. She consoled herself with the thought that, at least, the bride was a gentleman's daughter and, having been through a family breach once already and not wishing to renew the experience, gingerly welcomed the new Mrs Darcy in the family.