Beginning, Section II
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Jump to new as of June 1, 2001
When finally all the guests had gone, Fitz and I remained behind.
"Bingley will be leaving early tomorrow morning to London, and we are to follow suit shortly," he said abruptly, loosening his collar.
I let out a cry of surprise. "What do you mean?"
Fitz was calm. "Viola, if you are in the habit of giving exclamations in pretense of innocence, you have far from succeeded in that respect."
"You don't quite comprehend. If Mr. Bingley leaves, then what is to become of Miss Bennet?"
"It is highly indelicate for a young lady's name to be linked to that of a gentleman with whom no relations exist."
"Oh, who observes delicacy in a case such as this!" I exclaimed. It slowly dawned on me what Fitz had done. "You have not dissuaded Mr. Bingley from his affections in that quarter, have you?"
Fitz calmly poured himself a glass of wine and sipped it. "I was observing Miss Bennet throughout the ball and I could see no great marks of affection in her demeanour, except that which is generally observed of agreeability. I do not believe there was a great deal of affections towards Mr. Bingley, and I would not therefore advise such a match for my friend."
"Fitz, you are grossly mistaken. Is it not right to maintain modesty? Is a lady to be deprived thereof of even her propriety?"
"It would not have been extraordinary to expect a woman who is truly attached to a gentleman to show it, however accidental it may be, in her attitude and carriage. There is nothing remarkable about that expectation."
"But you were wrong to judge!" I exclaimed warmly. "I can very well see that Miss Bennet does have a preference for Mr. Bingley. And you can see that she is modest in the display of her affections because propriety makes it so. Would you have her show to the world the contents of her heart? And if Mr. Bingley were to, God forbid, abandon her, what then should come of her? Would you have a poor innocent young lady cast out in shame, because she showed too much affections instead of guarding it more prudently?"
Fitz was silent for a moment as he stared at me in surprise.
"My dear Brother, speak! Do not tell me that you are at a loss of words. Where is the sense of which you pride so much?"
He sat down beside me. "The deed is done," he said. "I convinced him already that Miss Bennet's affections are not those out of the common pleasantry deriving from an ordinary acquaintance. And her relations are nothing of which to be proud of. Is Bingley to connect himself to a mother so vulgar and a father so neglecting?" He shook his head. "I can do nothing more, for I expect greater happiness for my friend."
"Oh, you certainly can do more," I pleaded. "Please, please tell Mr. Bingley before he retires for the night that you were wrong. At any rate, who are you to judge either Miss Bennet or her family? Mr. Bingley is his own person, he has the right to decide for himself where he wishes to place his feelings, for better or for worse. If Mr. Bingley were to settle his love on Miss Bennet, I say that there is nothing the worse of it, for he could not do better with finding one so virtuous, honest, and good as the lady."
Just at that unlucky moment, Mr. Bingley stumbled in through the door. His face was red to the roots of his hair, and his candid, blue eyes, were now round and ablaze with fury.
"Darcy, you don't mean to say that you have been misleading me all along?" he asked, frustrated.
I could feel the blood leave my head and I leaned on the back of the chair to steady myself.
"Have you been listening?" I heard Fitz say.
"I could not help it. I live here. I did not expect you to still be here, and discussing so good a lady! Darcy-tell me, have you tried to pry me away from Miss Bennet?"
For a moment, I thought Fitz would retort some form of defense, but to my surprise, he hesitated a second before he finally admitted his wrong.
"It was not my duty to say it. I was wrong to judge, only I wanted the best for you. Please forgive me."
Mr. Bingley looked from Fitz to me and back. "And if Miss Darcy had not been here, you would have allowed my acquaintance with Miss Bennet to cease?" he asked.
"Yes," said Fitz quietly. "And I was wrong in that too."
Mr. Bingley threw up his hands. "I would never have done that to you and one you loved!" he exclaimed.
"Because you are a good man," said Fitz tiredly.
Mr. Bingley quickly broke into a relieved half-smile. "I must say that I owe a great deal of thanks to Miss Darcy. I am truly glad that you are not like your brother in that respect. And you think I have a chance with Miss Bennet?"
I nodded my head, also relieved. "Certainly, if you can prove yourself to be less easily persuaded by Fitz. I can see that she likes you very well. You alone hold the answer, Mr. Bingley, and you must tender it carefully."
"I shall," said Mr. Bingley. He turned back to Fitz. "Darcy, as for you, I appreciate your concern, but I can tell you honestly and truthfully that I never believed for a moment what you said of Miss Bennet. Her mother may be a little trying, but she is agreeable, and I quite like Mr. Bennet. As for Jane-oh, there is no ladies as good as she-You have not had the advantage of knowing her as I have, and I can assure you that I far do not deserve her."
"If what you say proves true, than I hope you will at least disprove that last point, and make yourself deserving of Miss Bennet's affections," said Fitz at last.
So ended our night-with amicability, and easiness. Perhaps it had not been so disappointing as I had felt it to be.
The next day, I made my way to Longbourn to pay a visit to Elizabeth.
"Miss Darcy," cried Lydia, coming up to me on the walk, "I would be careful if I were you. The house is all in an uproar."
"What is the matter?" I asked in concern. "No one is hurt, I hope!"
"No, it's Mr. Collins, that odious man. He's gone and proposed to Lizzy, and Lizzy would have nothing to do with him, and now Maman will have nothing to do with Lizzy because Mr. Collins has gone and set off to Lucas Lodge for dinner." Lydia giggled and waved her sister Kitty to hurry to her side. "Oh Kitty, do hurry, will you? We have got to go to town before the officers are up!"
"Do you not believe it would be better to leave them well alone?" I asked, thinking of my own sister. I would certainly not want Georgiana to make such a display of herself.
"I promised to visit Denny," said Lydia simply. "And I want to surprise him before he's had time to dress." The two girls giggled again.
"I am sure Mr. Denny would not find that very appreciable," I ventured to warn her. But how much did I know of Mr. Denny, anyhow, to make vouchsafe such a remark?
"Goodbye," they sang out, and quite ran past me.
Once at the door, I was announced, and shown to the sitting room.
"Miss Darcy," said Elizabeth with a stony face and a careful curtsy.
"I hope you are not unwell," I said.
"No," said Elizabeth, immediately forcing a smile. "I am not."
"Lydia has told me your news."
"She should not have. However, it had to be done. I could never respect a man such as Mr. Collins, and I could never man whom I cannot respect, let alone love."
"I am sorry indeed for what you must have felt."
"Do you?"
Looking out the window, I waved my hand out in the direction of the park. "I would like to take a turn in that pretty park out there. Would you please show me around it?"
Elizabeth agreed, grabbing a shawl with her.
When we were outside in the little wilderness, against the cool, brisk November air, Elizabeth guided me to a bench, where we promptly sat down.
"Well, Miss Darcy?"
I asked that she would not call me that, and remember that I was a friend.
"Nevertheless, I could never feel at ease addressing you otherwise. Miss Darcy is a perfectly good name."
"I suppose it is, but not when it entails all other connections of which I would be less than proud to admit to," I said. "There have been some who have more than willingly tried to diminish the honour of our name."
"Is it Mr. Wickham, whom you are alluding to?" she asked at last.
"And no other."
She nodded her head, telling me to go on.
"It will strike you as beyond comprehension that I should come this distance with only the purpose and intent of informing you of the connection that stands between Mr. Wickham and my family," I said. "I know you may not receive all this with credibility, and because I pledge that you keep this knowledge all to your own silence, I know it will make the tale seem only more incredible."
"Go on."
I took a deep breath.
"You know that I have a sister."
"Yes. I have heard it said that she is not much older than my own sister Lydia."
"Yes-Georgiana is but sixteen, and she is the dearest creature in the world. I could and would never bear to see her ill-used for she is of a naturally shy and delicate character. Very talented, but excessively timid towards strangers. My brother and I have always made it a business with ourselves to look to it that Georgiana always be well looked after. But last summer-" I paused, thinking of how best to say it.
"Did it concern Mr. Wickham?"
I nodded. "At Ramsgate. We grew up together, you know. But I had been sent away to school for a few years, and when I returned, although Mr. Wickham's manners were more pleasant than before, I could not help but find them all the more unengaging. There was always a sort of pretense in his attentions towards me, you see, which I did not like. He soon turned his attentions to Georgiana, unbeknownst to us. She was at Ramsgate last summer with her companion, one Mrs. Younge."
"What happened at Ramsgate?" Elizabeth gently prodded.
"Mr. Wickham followed her there. He them persuaded my poor little sister with his good manners and attentions to elope with her. It was only through a slip of words in her letter to me which convinced me that something was of no good there, and I speedily sent for Fitzwilliam to see her."
A look of horror crossed Elizabeth's face. "And did he stop it in time?"
Her face made my eyes well up, despite myself. Something in her look made me feel again what I had felt last summer. "Georgiana is a good girl. She never went through with Mr. Wickham's plans. As soon as she saw Fitzwilliam, she dropped her poor face on his shoulder and told her everything. You see, her conscience could never allowed her to do it, but she was yet so untried and innocent of the world that it was the weakness that made her almost concede to Mr. Wickham."
Elizabeth stood up and paced about the path. "But Mr. Wickham must have had some affections for her?" Her face, which for a moment had been lit with hope now fell again.
"Georgiana and I each are entitled to thirty-thousand pounds from our mother," I said, confirming her thoughts.
I stood up and looked her straight in the eye. "And now, if you do not believe all that I have said, I can not do much more. It was unfair of you to champion that man in that way, as you did last night. Whatever he has said to you, I little know, though I am curious to find out what he has said of my family. I beg that you will say nothing of this to anyone, for Georgiana's sake."
Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "I hardly know what to think of this," she said at last.
"Think nothing of it, then, and get to know us as we really are, without that which you have previously heard. I do not know what Fitz has said or done, no doubt some word of great disparagement, but you must even see yourself that he is ill at ease with strangers. But with a longer acquaintance, he really is delightful to know."
"One more thing, before I go," I said, turning to go. "Mr. Bingley intends to stay in Netherfield after all. We do not know how long, but I am sure you will be delighted with the news. I hope you will receive our invitation now, and bring Miss Bennet with you to come dine at Netherfield some time. Mr. Bingley has already given me leave to do so."
"Thank you," she said ponderously and she showed me the way out.
"I don't know how much you find believable," I said, turning to her again. "But if you ever come to Derbyshire, I can assure you that the truth of Mr. Wickham's character could be attested to anywhere in the county."
"Is he so infamous?" said Elizabeth in surprise.
"You will see."
I hoped, as I left Longbourn, that what I had done had been right. I little knew how she would receive it, but I had the satisfaction of realizing that there was now an honest chance between Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy.
"Look, there is a gentleman on the other side looking a great deal over this way," observed Miss Lucas.
I followed her gaze and recognized immediately the tall dark gentleman with the red coat and the cape. Mr. Denny crossed the street immediately.
"Good morning, Miss Lucas, Miss Darcy."
"Good morning," we returned.
"I had been hoping to see you for some time," said Mr. Denny, as Miss Lucas slyly slid off into a fabric shop.
"Have you?" I asked.
"I do owe you an apology, I believe," he added.
"What is that?"
"You see, I never realized it was your family, with which Wickham was acquainted and spoke so ill of. Please forgive me. I have since found out that there is not much truth to his narrative as to merit any second thought or favour."
I looked into his earnest dark eyes and smiled. "I do not know what he has done to give you this new realization."
He shook his head. "No, nothing, but that I have lately found that he has incurred a large sum of debt, and I have since twice had to help him take care of his matters."
I was surprised. "I did not realize that."
"No-I would be surprised if you did know." He cleared his throat. "Thank you for a lovely evening last night."
I smiled again. "Oh, the thanks do not go to me. I deserve no such recognition. If you must thank someone, let it be for the Bingleys, who have been so hospitable since their stay."
"Do I have the permission to call on you some time?" asked Mr. Denny.
I stalled for a moment, thinking. I did rather like Mr. Denny, but he was also an officer, and although born a gentleman, would he turn out to be another kind of Mr. Wickham?
"If you'd like," I said slowly.
I thought of the sketch I had made that evening in the drawing room of Netherfield, and wondered that it was nothing short of a miracle that I had met him in inspiration even before I set eyes on his person.