Page 6 of The Best Of Relations

“He told me that his father had wanted Wickham preferred to the living at Kympton,” Mrs Gardiner said, “and upon seeing my reaction, told me most emphatically that he was well aware Wickham should never be a churchman and that he had paid him the value of the living, in some thousands of pounds, instead, and that Wickham had signed away those rights.”

Elizabeth gasped. So Mr Darcy had denied Wickham the living! But thousands of pounds paid in recompense was no small thing, and a man who could behave so disgracefully should indeed never have care of a congregation.

“Well, I have never met this Wickham,” Mr Bennet broke the silence that fell after Mrs Gardiner had finished speaking, “but I could not doubt you, Madeline, not after your sister’s dreadful tale. I am so very sorry. You never told us.”

“It was such a scandal.” Madeline touched her handkerchief to her eyes. “I told Edward, of course, but after getting to know Fanny – forgive me, but I suspected that she would find the tale too good not to share.”

“Quite right, and it shall not leave this room, shall it, Lizzy? I believe that Mr Wickham should be exposed – I cannot leave my neighbours’ daughters vulnerable to such a man any more than my own – but we need only say that it was a young lady of your acquaintance in your youth that was so meanly used.”

Mrs Gardiner agreed, turning to Elizabeth. “Lizzy, my dear, I am so sorry to disillusion you. I know how you pride yourself upon your discernment. But Mr Wickham is possessed of a handsome face and the most charming manners, and he has many years of practice in dissembling. I could not possibly take the risk that you, or one of your sisters, might be taken in by him. It was such a shock to read his name in your letter, I hardly knew what I was about, only that I must get to you as quickly as possible. I had such a premonition of disaster!”

“Oh, my dear Aunt,” Elizabeth knelt at her aunt’s feet and took her hands. “Thank you. You have shocked me greatly, but I am not so fixed in belief of my own superiority of understanding, as to resent your guiding knowledge! It is a grievous shock indeed, to discover that any supposed gentleman could be capable of such duplicitous behaviour, but as you said in your earlier letter ‘there is wickedness in this world’ and we should be silly indeed to think that it might never touch us. With your permission, I will call all of my sisters and my mother downstairs, and you can share with them your knowledge of Mr Wickham, without of course disclosing your sister’s identity. Rest assured that I shall never tell even Jane. She will be shocked to the core as it is, for she never likes to think ill of anyone!”

“Yes, yes, Lizzy, go and tell your sisters and your mother that your aunt would like to speak to them in the parlour. And if you send Mr Collins to me, I shall sacrifice a half-hour of my time to keep the bumbling idiot out of the way.” Mr Bennet sent Elizabeth on her way and reached for the sherry. “I’d better top up your glass, Madeline. You have been very brave.”

Chapter Three

For several long minutes after Mrs Gardiner finished speaking, the only sound in Longbourn’s parlour was the loud tick of the clock on the mantle. And then Jane fainted dead away on Elizabeth’s shoulder, Lydia jumped to her feet and began to abuse her aunt, declaring that it could not possibly be the same Mr Wickham, and from Mrs Bennet came a low wail that gradually escalated into a full-blown fit of hysterics.

Elizabeth closed her ears to her mother’s wails, and set about trying to gently rouse Jane. “Be silent for a few minutes at least, Lydia,” she snapped as Lydia spoke louder, seeing that no one was paying her any attention. “You may display your ignorance when the rest of us have some leisure to hear it.”

Mrs Gardiner threw Elizabeth a look at the same time grateful and reproachful, and she turned her face away and attended to Jane. While she had assured her aunt, truthfully, that she was not resentful of guidance, it was still an unpalatable fact that her vaunted judgement of character had failed her woefully in at least one case. There had been no time yet for Mrs Gardiner to speak much of Mr Darcy’s character, and rather childishly Elizabeth did not want to hear it. She acknowledged her own fault, but it is a hard thing to be told that you are wrong. Once in one day was surely enough.

Approaching Netherfield that evening, Elizabeth still felt herself to be in rather a state of shock. The afternoon had passed away rapidly while settling Mrs Bennet’s hysterics and seeing to Jane, who was perhaps even more upset than her mother. Jane had never wanted to believe that such wickedness could exist in the world, much less be possessed by one man, and of their acquaintance!

Lydia had defiantly refused to believe Mrs Gardiner’s account of Wickham’s character, and in the end her father had been summoned, declared her a silly child and withdrawn his permission for her to attend the Netherfield Ball. All her tears and pleas fell on deaf ears, and she was left at home with Mrs Hill.

For once, Mrs Bennet had not attempted to change her husband’s mind with regards to a firmer hand with her favourite.

“Silly child,” she said, fluttering her handkerchief, “it is hard enough to recognise a man of poor character, but when a girl is foolish enough to disbelieve a reliable account, she has a very great deal still to learn! No, indeed, best she stay at home and reflect upon her behaviour. If this Mr Wickham has the nerve to show his face at the ball, no doubt she would be silly enough to still want to be acquainted with the scoundrel. I assure you I shall not give him countenance.”

“I very much doubt that Mr Wickham would dare to appear in a place where Mr Darcy has any influence. I am quite surprised Mr Darcy has not exposed Wickham’s character to the neighbourhood,” Mrs Gardiner said. She, Mrs Bennet, Jane and Elizabeth were riding in the Gardiner carriage. Mr Bennet followed behind with Mr Collins, Kitty and Mary in the Bennet coach. “He must surely have at least advised the principal shopkeepers. Mr Wickham has a bad habit of running up accounts on credit wherever he goes, only to leave town without settling his bills, in addition to accruing debts of honour through gambling, Mr Darcy has advised me.”

“Gambling!” Mrs Bennet let out a small shriek. “Oh Sister, could this young man get any worse? Shocking, shocking behaviour! Well, if Mr Darcy has not done his duty by the people of Meryton, believe me that I shall – I shall tell Lady Lucas, Mrs Long and our sister Mrs Philips all about it tonight, and they will ensure that everyone knows, for they do love to gossip!”

Mrs Gardiner caught Lizzy’s eye and they both smothered chuckles. There had been no opportunity for them to speak further in private, preparations for the ball consuming the rest of the day after Mrs Bennet’s hysterics and Lydia’s rage had been subdued.

“Dear Aunt Gardiner, this is the most amazing fabric,” Jane very gently touched the skirt of her aunt’s gown, which spread along the seat beside her. It was a silk that appeared first blue-green and then violet as the light played across it. “Is it from Uncle’s warehouses?”

“It is, and I have brought some dress-lengths in other colours to be made up into gowns for you girls. It is all about the way the silk is woven, apparently. There is a lovely royal-blue and silver for you, Jane, and a burgundy-red which changes to gold for Lizzy. I know they are rather deeper colours than young girls would normally wear,” she said apologetically to Mrs Bennet, “but Jane is of age, and Lizzy almost so, and with three younger sisters out they are no longer debutantes.”

“Both of them will likely soon be married anyway,” Mrs Bennet waved a hand, “such amazing silk would make the most wondrous wedding-gowns, would it not, girls? Look, here we are!”

The carriage was indeed at that moment making the turn off the main road which would bring them up Netherfield’s long approach. Jane and Elizabeth peered out eagerly, admiring. The magnificent house was ablaze with light, and torches burned along the driveway. A carpet had even been laid from the turning-circle up to the portico to ensure that no lady’s slippers might be soiled.

“And of all this you might soon be mistress, Jane,” Mrs Gardiner teased softly, for her eldest niece’s ears alone.

“Oh, Aunt – I hope so,” Jane looked at her aunt, her heart in her eyes. “But I do not know for sure that Mr Bingley feels that way about me.”

“Does he know how you feel?” her aunt asked sensibly. “Most young men would wish to be quite sure of a young lady’s affections before they take the plunge. I assure you I let your uncle know in no uncertain terms of my hopes, before he got up the courage to ask for my hand!”

“Really?” Jane said, in some surprise. Reticent by nature, she had thought that it was better to remain demure and let Mr Bingley make up his own mind.

Her aunt assured her that it was so, and just at that moment the carriage finally stopped. A footman opened the door for them at once, helping them down, and Jane gathered her skirts. Her father’s carriage pulled up directly behind them, and her father stepped down and offered Mrs Bennet his arm.

Resigned to having to walk up the stairs with Mr Collins, Jane was pleasantly surprised when she realised that he had no choice but to offer his arm to Mrs Gardiner instead, as her aunt had precedence. Mrs Gardiner cast a cheery wink at both Jane and Elizabeth, and swept Mr Collins off up the stairs, proclaiming that as her dear husband was not there to oblige her, and she did so love dancing, Mr Collins would just have to lead her out for the first set.

“But I have already asked my fair cousin Miss Elizabeth for those dances…” Mr Collins protested.