Page 40 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

“No, sir. My youngest sister, Lydia, ran away from home with a man named Mr. George Wickham.”

“George Wickham! Miss Bennet, I know of him. My friend has long had dealings with the man, for he is a blackguard through and through. He has ruined countless servants and gently bred women who have fallen prey to his handsome face and pleasing address.”

“Then, sir, you understand more clearly what befell my sister. She was but fifteen.”

“He persuaded her to run away with him. When we learned of it, my father pursued them. He found them in St. Albans awaiting the mail coach. Mr. Wickham fired upon my father, inflicting a mortal wound, and carried my sister away. Before he left my father, he declared he intended to sell her to a madam in London. My father went to his grave knowing his youngest daughter was lost to all respectable society, and his other daughters stood in danger of ruin. My Uncle Gardiner consulted three different detectives, but all told him she was lost to us with no means of tracing her.”

She dabbed at her eyes.

“You must now understand why we cannot marry. If it were ever discovered that my sister is a fallen woman living somewhere in London or elsewhere in England, my husband and children would bear that stain as well.”

He looked at her in silence for a moment, then said, “But when I came to Hertfordshire, I heard all about your family, the loss of your parents and sister, and the entail. I did not hear a single whisper of scandal.”

“No, sir. My uncles have taken great care to prevent the truth from becoming generally known. Only my four sisters, our coachman, and my two uncles know what truly befell Lydia. But you have an unmarried sister. Should this dreadful secret ever come to light, not only would my husband and children bear the stain, but so would his family. His unmarried sister would also suffer.”

He took her free hand.

“Jane, there is very little danger of this becoming known. If you accept me, I shall relinquish the lease here and take you to Derbyshire. My friend owns an estate there and wishes me to purchase one of my own in the north so we may become close neighbors. Once we are married, you will be under my protection. You will no longer be a Bennet, but a Bingley.”

“Sir, another nine months must pass before my mourning comes to an end. If you feel the same toward me next May, then ask me again. In the meantime, I think it best that we do not become betrothed, even in secret. You may discover that your feelings have altered, and I should be devastated if I believed myself promised to you only to have you withdraw your offer. I have endured too much, sir. I do not believe I could bear another sorrow. Certainly not one of such magnitude.”

He dropped to one knee before her.

“Jane, do not draw away from me. Accept my hand. I shall entreat your two uncles and obtain permission to marry you quietly in London. Your Hertfordshire neighbors need never know you married before your mourning had ended. I would place you beneath the protection of my name. I beg you to consider it.”

Jane wept, and she too knelt before him. “Though it is not proper for me to speak with such openness, I shall do so because you have dealt honestly with me. I love you, sir.”

She paused and searched his face. “I love you, Charles, and because I love you, I cannot accept your hand in marriage. If you still feel the same when my year of mourning has ended, and if my family's ruination remains concealed, then I shall accept you.”

She lowered her eyes.

“Sir, there is one great uncertainty we must both acknowledge. My sister Lydia is not dead. She may even now be the mistress of some wealthy gentleman. He may escort her to the theatre in London or to some other public place. You see how strong the family resemblance is between us. Lydia has fair hair as I do. As she grows older, she will resemble me more and more. People within your acquaintance may recognize we are related.”

She pressed his hand.

“And, sir, my sister Lydia is not a woman of discretion. She has never learned to restrain her tongue. Whatever enters her mind escapes her lips. She herself may even now bring about the downfall of all her sisters.”

He rose and helped her to her feet.

“Is there nothing I can say to change your mind? Nothing to persuade you to accept my hand?”

She brushed a tear from his cheek. “It pains me to see you brought so low, sir. Had I known indulging my desire to be in your company would bring you such sorrow, I would have ended our acquaintance that very first day.”

“Do not speak so, my love. You would have wounded me far more deeply had you never allowed me to know you at all. I shall wait for you, for you leave me no other choice. But you must promise me one thing. Promise me you will not accept another, nor enter into service, without first writing to me.”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a calling card.

“Keep this with you. Write to me, or have your uncle write to me, and I shall come to you immediately. Do you promise me this?”

She accepted the card as though it were a precious treasure.

“I do. I promise.”

“And may I visit you in London? I can bring Caroline and the Hursts with me. It shall not be a visit of courtship, only one of friends wishing to offer comfort through their company.”

Jane smiled.

“Yes, sir. You may visit Lizzy and me under those circumstances.”