Pride Prejudice and Perjury

The Wedding Tour

Chapter 4 ~ The Wedding Tour

In April, Elizabeth arrived in Hertfordshire in the company of Jane and Charles Bingley, at the commencement of their wedding tour. Elizabeth would spend the week in Longbourn, while Jane and Bingley stayed nearby with an acquaintance of his. Elizabeth was pleased to be at home again, but also relieved that the visit would be of but a short duration, for her mother's moods were as extreme as ever. Mrs. Bennet was either ebullient at the great good fortune of having a third daughter at the point of marriage (and one whom she had hardly hoped would ever be so), or she was vexed at her husband's stubborn refusal to invite Lydia and Wickham to Longbourn for the wedding. Mary was exceedingly pleased with her father's resolution, for she did not wish to have her nuptials thus tainted.

“Your mother's memory, I fear, is somewhat defective,” said Mr. Bennet to Elizabeth as they were seated one evening in the privacy of his library. “I have neither forgotten nor forgiven that scoundrel Wickham, for the trouble he has given me. I hope never to set eyes upon him again. Your mother imagined that I might wish to send them the funds for the journey from Newcastle, of which, no doubt, they would be in need; for Wickham is certain to be in debt again.”

“I fear that Mr. Wickham is a man who will always spend or gamble away more than his income,” said Elizabeth. “Poor Lydia; she seems destined to a life of difficulty.”

“Your sister has no one to blame but herself. They will, doubtless, never have quite enough money to live upon; however, she is so impervious to the opinions and censure of society that the wayward behaviour of her husband is likely to cause her very little shame. It is I who must suffer the shame – of being unable to repay my brother Gardiner.”

Opening a ledger, he pointed with his quill towards some calculations he had made. “Even the most austere retrenchments in expenditure will yield but three or four hundred pounds a year; and your mother, I fear, will complain bitterly at the curtailment of so many luxuries,” he said, shaking his head. “Your uncle refuses to tell me what it cost him to prevail upon Wickham to marry my daughter. He says that I owe him nothing, but how can I believe it? He must have laid out ten or twelve thousand pounds, at least. It will take thirty or forty years to repay such a sum – and I will certainly not live that long.”

Elizabeth could bear her father's sorrow and shame no longer. “Papa, my uncle is speaking the truth. Although he would gladly have used his own money to bring about Lydia's wedding, he did not. It was paid for entirely by another.”

Mr. Bennet looked up disbelievingly. “Lizzy, what are you talking of? Who else in the world could have an interest in the matter?”

“Mr. Darcy.”

“Mr. Darcy? Why on earth would Darcy care whether Wickham married Lydia – it makes not the slightest sense! Lydia is nothing to Darcy, and as I recall, when the militia were quartered in Meryton last year, Wickham took every opportunity to blacken his name.”

Elizabeth was now obliged to communicate some of the substance of the letter Mr. Darcy had written in Kent. She revealed the whole of the history between Wickham and Darcy – concealing only the identity of Miss Darcy. She simply said that Wickham had attempted to elope with a young lady of Mr. Darcy's acquaintance, who was but fifteen years old.

“But Lizzy, this all seems so implausible. Why would Mr. Darcy consider himself responsible for Wickham's wickedness – or Lydia's stupidity? I cannot believe it!”

“It seems that Mr. Darcy believed that it was on account of his mistaken pride, and reluctance to lay open the details which I have just now recounted, that Wickham's true character had not been known to the world. He blamed himself for concealing Wickham's history, which, had it been known, would have made it impossible for any young woman of character to believe or love him. Consequently, he considered it his duty to remedy this evil which had been brought about on account of his actions.”

Mr. Bennet shook his head. “I am astounded! Contrary to all the unfavourable reports of his character, it transpires that Darcy is the most noble of men! I feel quite ashamed of myself for the poor opinion I previously held of him. I believe that you, my dear, were the source of much of my former information concerning Mr. Darcy; however, I do not blame you for so grossly misunderstanding him, for you hardly know the man.”

Elizabeth blushed deeply and looked away, feeling greatly embarrassed – but also relieved that her father was entirely ignorant of the tangled and troubled history of her acquaintance with the gentleman.

“Perhaps you were too hasty in forming your opinions, my dear. I am a great believer in learning from one's mistakes,” counselled Mr. Bennet.

“Yes,” agreed Elizabeth, managing a wry smile. “I am fortunate to have so great an opportunity to learn.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled before again becoming serious. “Lizzy, my dear, I am quite prepared to believe everything you now tell me about Darcy and Wickham; but how on earth did you come to know all of this? Mr. Darcy, after all, is no friend of yours.”

No friend, indeed, reflected Elizabeth, sadly, recalling Mr. Darcy's recent cold behaviour towards her. “Mr. Darcy prevailed upon everyone – Lydia, Wickham, and the Gardiners – to keep his part in the affair secret. Lydia first betrayed Mr. Darcy's involvement when she and her husband visited Longbourn. I received further information from my Aunt Gardiner, who… mistakenly believed me to have some knowledge of the matter. That is why my uncle could not tell you that it was Mr. Darcy, and not he, who paid for everything.

“It was also Mr. Darcy, who, as a result of his long association with Wickham, was able to discover where he and my sister were hiding. He then engaged in the odious task of haggling over how much he must bribe the scoundrel to marry her.”

“I must write to Mr. Darcy immediately, to thank him,” said Mr. Bennet, “and of course I must offer to repay him – albeit very slowly.”

“No, Father! Please, I beg of you, do not write! Mr. Darcy will certainly not accept a penny from you; and he will be vastly unhappy to learn that confidences have been broken, and his secret revealed. It is true that we owe him a great deal; but it is a debt that can neither be acknowledged nor repaid. The only possible way to repay his kindness is to keep it secret, as he wishes, and to tell no one!”

“Lizzy, you seem upset; what is the matter, my dear?”

“There is nothing the matter, Papa.” Elizabeth searched desperately for some way of explaining her aroused emotions. “It is only that I find it difficult to think and talk about Lydia and her elopement without becoming discomposed. At the time, the shame of it was almost unbearable. It seemed that the marriage prospects of Jane, Mary, Kitty, and myself were forever blighted.”

“And very likely, they might have been, were it not for Mr. Darcy! Though, it seems, we can never thank him, we have greatly benefited from his generosity. Jane is now happily married to Mr. Bingley, and tomorrow it shall be Mary's turn. She, too, I believe, will be happy. Indeed, she could not have chosen a better or more suitable partner.”

“I think it is my mother, rather than Mary, who deserves the credit. I doubt very much that the good reverend would have ever contemplated marriage had it not been for mamma's steadfast encouragement.”

Mr. Bennet laughed. “Yes, your mother's blind enthusiasm for the institution seems to be somewhat contagious – although you, my dear Lizzy, would appear to be immune to it. Nevertheless, I believe Mr. Tiddlington, too, will be happy, and have reason to thank your mother. Whereas Mary, perhaps, has more reason for thanking you,” he added with a conspiratorial smile.

***

Despite the joy of seeing her sister wed, it was a considerable trial for Elizabeth, who again shared the honour of bridesmaid with Kitty. Her thoughts would not remain in the present moment, but continually returned to Jane's wedding, six months earlier, where she had stood in the same church with Mr. Darcy. Try as she might, she could not banish that awful image from her mind, of his face, an icy mask of haughty disdain, when for the briefest of moments they had faced each other across the aisle, and their eyes met. Though the service was soon over, it unleashed the same tormenting thoughts which had plagued her at that time. Try as she might, Elizabeth could neither understand his behaviour nor prevent herself from endlessly conjecturing upon it.

Fortunately, with all the excitement of Mary's wedding, no one paid a great deal of attention to Elizabeth, and only Jane noticed her low spirits; she had no difficulty in understanding their cause or how her poor sister's mind must be occupied. So sunken was Elizabeth in her sad, perplexing thoughts, that she barely noticed her mother's absurd hints as to the desirability as a marriage partner of the rector from the neighbouring parish, who had officiated at the wedding service.

***

Jane earnestly hoped that once they had departed Hertfordshire for the Lakes, with nothing to remind her of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth would recover her spirits – and she was not disappointed. Elizabeth had purchased a copy of Thomas West's Guide to the Lakes in London and was determined to savour all the famous beauty spots. Strolling with Jane beside lovely Lake Grasmere one afternoon, she confided, “Mr. Darcy is forever forgotten! What are mere men compared to beauty and grandeur such as this? If only we could live our lives enfolded in nature's exquisite embrace.”

“It may be a rather cold embrace in winter, I fear, dear Lizzy. However, I can think of no reason why a fine country home may not be surrounded by nature's beauty – if not, perhaps, on quite so grand a scale as this.”

“Yet all too often, it is such a tame and ordered beauty, in which nature's wild artistry is almost entirely buried beneath man's designs. I recall that many of the parks and gardens of the grand estates I visited with our Aunt and Uncle Gardiner last summer, were of that ilk.”

“Were there none sufficiently untamed and unaffected as to delight you, Lizzy?”

After a moment's reflection Elizabeth replied, “Only one.”

“And which grand estate was that?” asked Jane.

“Pemberley.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Jane. Wishing to avert her sister's thoughts from Pemberley – and its owner – she quickly added, “I believe you are aware that Charles has engaged an agent to locate suitable properties for us to inspect. There is one we pass on our return journey, somewhere in Cheshire, that is renowned for the pristine rustic beauty of its grounds. The agent reports that they are yet untouched by the present passion for improvement.”

***

The report of Bingley's agent regarding the estate in Cheshire was indeed accurate. It was named Willowbank for the graceful willows that lined the banks of the not inconsiderable, and more importantly, entirely unaltered, river which flowed delightfully through its grounds. The ladies fell immediately in love with it. Bingley, too, was charmed, and eager to purchase, but he was unable to make so important a decision without first consulting Mr. Darcy.

“Let us drive to Pemberley immediately,” he said. “It can be little more than an hour away.”

“So close?” exclaimed Elizabeth in alarm.

“Yes. Willowbank lies between Macclesfield and Buxton, which is in the neighbouring county of Derbyshire. I reckon it can be no more than ten or twelve miles from Pemberley.”

Elizabeth found herself immediately assailed by thoughts of Mr. Darcy. The ease and peace of mind that had been hers over the past several weeks entirely vanished. How would he behave towards her in his own home, she wondered, where he could not possibly avoid her, and where good breeding demanded that he treat his guests respectfully and with good grace?

Jane looked with concern at her sister, anticipating what thoughts and feelings must beset her as they journeyed towards Pemberley. But it could not be avoided. Her dear Charles was entirely dependent upon Mr. Darcy's opinion in matters of such magnitude.

***

When the butler showed them into the sitting room at Pemberley, Miss Darcy was unable to conceal her great delight at receiving them, but her brother appeared entirely discomposed. Though he greeted them with the customary formalities, and even managed to utter the words “Miss Bennet” flatly as he bowed stiffly to Elizabeth, he studiously avoided looking in her direction. She had never in her life seen him conduct himself so awkwardly, and the singularity of his behaviour could not have escaped the notice of the rest of the party.

Bingley explained the purpose of their visit and spoke of Willowbank with excessive enthusiasm. “It is everything that I could possibly wish for, Darcy. The rooms are large and perfectly proportioned; and the grounds are delightful. The area through which flows the river is on a par, I believe, with some of the famed beauty spots we have recently visited in the Lakes country. The house is not on quite so grand a scale as Pemberley, or the grounds as extensive as yours – but then neither is my fortune,” he added with a deferential smile. “Yet it is entirely perfect for me; I am absolutely determined to have it. However, I first wish to hear your opinion of the property. Are you at all familiar with it? If not, perhaps tomorrow we could ride over to take a look together?”

“I have heard of Willowbank. There were two brothers at Eton, as I recall, from the place; but I have never seen it myself. Let us ride there now, without delay,” said Darcy, rising abruptly from his chair, evidently anxious to be on his way – to anywhere that I am not, thought Elizabeth.

“Dear Brother, will not you and Mr. Bingley first dine with us? It is almost the hour for the meal,” protested his sister, astounded at her brother's haste, and the uncharacteristic lack of civility demonstrated towards the ladies.

“Err… no, I think not,” said Darcy, making a show of taking out his golden pocket watch and consulting it carefully for some time, evidently searching for a plausible explanation for such exceptional behaviour. “Bingley and I can take something at the inn in Buxton. No, we must depart immediately if we are to have sufficient time to inspect the buildings and all the grounds.”

“Surely not, Darcy,” remonstrated his friend, consulting his own timepiece. “We have a good seven hours of daylight yet – the park is not so large that we will require half a day to do it justice – it is not Pemberley! My agent informs me that there is presently no other interested party; if you believe it will require such a great deal of time, then our inspection may well wait another day.”

But Darcy would not be persuaded, and in a matter of minutes, he and Bingley had decamped. Elizabeth doubted not for a moment that the abruptness of his departure was entirely on account of his desire to be out of her presence. Though she was well aware of his aversion by this time, to be together in the same room as he, and experience it so directly, was almost more than she could bear. As she struggled to appear unaffected to their hostess, Elizabeth attempted to direct her attention outwards to her surroundings. This, however, was of little help, for she was reminded of her previous visit to Pemberley, when she and her aunt came to wait upon Miss Darcy. She recalled how delightful she found it on that day; and of her hopeful feelings, and the fancy she could not suppress, that Darcy still loved her, and that very soon this beautiful home might also be hers, and dear Georgiana a beloved sister. How hopeless and distant a dream that all seemed now.

***

Bingley rejoined the ladies in the sitting room in the late afternoon, eager to report the outcome of their inspection of Willowbank from whence he was just returned. “Darcy's approbation of the property was hardly less than my own. Our survey of the house and stables, and other major buildings, elicited only favourable opinions, and I thought him as pleased and charmed by grounds and park as myself. But then, confound the man, if he did not at the end of it all advise me against purchasing the place! Pray excuse me, Miss Darcy, for speaking of your brother in so forthright a manner, but I am somewhat vexed at the present moment.”

“How extraordinary, Charles,” exclaimed Jane. “What reason did Mr. Darcy give for so unexpected a recommendation?”

“None that could in any way satisfy me!” said Bingley, shaking his head in bewilderment. “First of all, he attempted to persuade me that I would find it a most inconvenient distance from town.”

“But it is hardly further from London than Pemberley, and I have never heard Mr. Darcy complain of the length of the journey. Have you, my dear?” asked Jane, turning towards Georgiana.

“No, never,” replied Georgiana, shaking her head, feeling both confused and embarrassed at her brother's baffling behaviour.

“Nor I!” exclaimed Bingley. “And when I pointed this out to him, Darcy replied with some nonsense about my not being fond of travelling! I have not the least idea what grounds he could possibly have for forming such an opinion; I am certain that I have never once said anything of the kind.”

“In any case, Charles, how many times would we be likely to make the journey to town each year, once we are well settled? Twice – or thrice perhaps – hardly often enough for it to be a major consideration,” reasoned Jane.

“Quite right!” said her husband. “Darcy then attempted to persuade me that I would find the winters not to my liking. The northerly clime, he claimed, was far colder than either you or I are accustomed to; and I had better look for something in a more southerly locale, such as Surry or Sussex.”

“The winters may indeed be colder than those I am used to in Hertfordshire, my dear; but I do not believe that it would trouble me in the least. Can the winters in Willowbank be a great deal colder than here at Pemberley?” asked Jane.

“No, not a bit,” replied Bingley. “It is no more than a mile or two more northerly, and being closer to the Irish Sea, in all likelihood, it is a little warmer. Even Darcy could not deny it. I reassured him, that having stayed with him at Pemberley in winter, that I found it much to my liking, and that I did not anticipate that you would be much troubled by the difference in climate.”

“Then Mr. Darcy cannot but have been reassured of the suitability of Willowbank, and the good sense in your purchasing the estate,” concluded Jane.

“Not at all!” exclaimed Bingley. “He then asked me if I objected to revealing the asking price for the property; and when I disclosed it, he declared it to be exorbitant, and said I should be a fool to pay so much!”

“But, Charles, did not your agent in London advise you that it was in every way a most reasonable price for such a property?”

“Indeed he did, Jane, and when I apprised Darcy of this, he began disparaging my agent, and implying that he could not be trusted. Although, when pressed, Darcy admitted that he had heard not a single bad report of the man.”

Elizabeth had spoken hardly a word since Bingley's return, for she had immediately surmised the cause of Mr. Darcy's bizarre behaviour. Bingley, she guessed, must have revealed that it was the intention of Jane and himself that Willowbank should also be her home. She would not have believed it possible, but it now seemed inescapable that Mr. Darcy's loathing of her, and his desire to avoid her society, had acted as a stronger inducement to him than the wish to have his dearest friend settled so conveniently nearby. At length, she managed to catch her sister's eye, and communicate something of her understanding, in consequence of which Jane ceased questioning her husband concerning Darcy's behaviour and attempted, rather, to mollify him.

“Notwithstanding Darcy's counsel to the contrary, I am determined to proceed with the purchase,” said Bingley with uncustomary resolve.

Jane smiled, nodding her concurrence.

“Unless Darcy turns up something of an irregular nature in the Shire records at Chester – although I think it highly unlikely he will find anything; for my agent will have undertaken due diligence of all the documents before recommending the property to me. Why Darcy felt it incumbent upon himself to immediately ride off to Chester to pursue the matter – in spite of all my protests – I have not the slightest idea,” said Bingley, shaking his head.

“My brother is gone to Chester?” asked Miss Darcy, all astonished.

“Yes. I am at a total loss to understand the urgency that compelled him to believe he must ride there straight away. He will be lucky to arrive before nightfall – in all likelihood your brother will be obliged to stop at an inn for the night, some distance short of his destination – and in any case, he will not be able to view the Shire records until tomorrow. I suggested that if he must go to Chester that he return to Pemberley with me and leave it for the morrow; for if he were to leave early, he could be back in time for the meal. But despite all my entreaties, when we arrived at the Macclesfield-Buxton road, he turned west towards Chester, leaving me to return alone.”

***

As Elizabeth was readying herself for bed, Jane came to her room. “You were right, Lizzy. I asked Charles if Mr. Darcy was aware of our intention that Willowbank should be your home also. He confessed that he confided it to Mr. Darcy as they were returning from their tour of the park.”

“Which coincides with Mr. Darcy's sudden change of tack, from praising Willowbank to concocting all manner of dubious reason for its unsuitability,” said Elizabeth.

“Yes, exactly,” said Jane. “Bingley is upset at his friend's erratic and incomprehensible behaviour; it is so entirely out of character! He has not the least suspicion that it is on your account, Lizzy, and as it is your wish that he should not know, I have said nothing.”

“Thank you, Jane,” said Elizabeth, taking her sister's hand.

“My poor Lizzy, how can you bear all of this? How awful it will be for you when Mr. Darcy returns to Pemberley tomorrow. Perhaps I can convince Bingley that we should leave in a day or two. I can tell him that I am anxious to return to town so that the purchase of Willowbank may be completed expeditiously. Georgiana will not be offended, I am certain, for she will comprehend our eagerness to conclude the transaction. And as for Mr. Darcy – he will be greatly relieved, I am sure.”

“Mr. Darcy will not return tomorrow, Jane. He will not return so long as I remain at Pemberley.”

“What? Stay away from his own home, Lizzy? Surely not!”

“Oh yes, Jane, I am quite certain of it. Mr. Darcy fled to Willowbank within minutes of our arrival this morning, and then concocted that absurd story about there being something untoward regarding the property in the Shire records, which required him to immediately ride off to Chester, rather than returning with Bingley. He will, of course, find nothing in the Shire records, you may be sure. But what he will find is an excuse of some kind or other, for not returning to Pemberley.”

***

Elizabeth was entirely correct. A message arrived the following evening from Darcy, informing Bingley that, notwithstanding the fact that the Shire records appeared to be in order, he continued to be of the opinion that Willowbank was entirely unsuitable, and that the purchase price was unreasonable. He recommended, most forcefully, that his friend look elsewhere. Darcy regretted that he was unable to return to Pemberley immediately as matters of some urgency relating to his duties as a magistrate had arisen in Derby, to whence he had ridden directly from Chester; they would very likely keep him there until after the assizes the following week. Included with the message was a list for his valet of items he wished him to bring to his master at his rooms in Derby.

Bingley and Miss Darcy were utterly stunned that he would absent himself when he had guests in the house. It was a gross breach of propriety on what appeared to be a very thin pretext indeed.

***

The following morning whilst they were taking tea with her, Georgiana attempted to apologise to Jane and Elizabeth for her brother's ungracious behaviour. “Please do not take it as an indication of any lack of esteem for either of you, I beg. I know my brother has the very highest regard for you both; and for Mr. Bingley, too, of course.”

Jane and Elizabeth did their best to reassure Georgiana that neither they, nor Mr. Bingley, were in the least bit offended.

“My brother has sometimes appeared troubled of late,” confided Georgiana, uneasily. “It began, I believe, in the winter. I have not the least idea what it can be about. I only know that he has many heavy responsibilities, and much to oversee regarding this estate and other lands in his possession. I fear that there must be difficulties of some kind which weigh heavily upon his mind, in consequence of which, he behaves quite out-of-character at times.”

Elizabeth could see how troubled and concerned Georgiana was for her brother, but, nevertheless, felt unable to speak of what she knew to be the reason for his recent bizarre behaviour. Apart from the embarrassment it would cause them both, she could provide no plausible explanation as to the reason which lay behind it.

“Be patient, Georgiana,” counselled Jane, “and wait. Whatever is causing your brother's strange behaviour will, in time, pass, and everything will again return to normal.”

On account of Georgiana's low spirits, Jane and Elizabeth resolved to stay on at Pemberley for a week, at least, but Charles was somewhat at a loose end without a shooting or fishing companion. He was annoyed at Darcy's inexcusable absence, and eager to get to London to conclude the business of the purchase. So at the end of a week they departed, after bidding their fond farewells to Georgiana, and speaking of their hopes of seeing much of each other when they took up residence at Willowbank.