Pride Prejudice and Perjury

Confined and Confounded at Longbourn

Chapter 5 ~ Confined and Confounded at Longbourn

The journey from Derbyshire to London took them through Hertfordshire, where Elizabeth would remain until the purchase of Willowbank was completed, and Jane and Bingley established there. Elizabeth was resigned to spending several months at Longbourn. With the loss of Jane and Mary from the parlour, the conversation had become even sillier than usual.

When Mrs. Bennet was not congratulating herself on one or other of her fine sons-in-law, she was earnestly engaged in speculating with Kitty on how a suitable husband might be found for her. Elizabeth had hinted that she had met a number of eligible young gentlemen in London, which was sufficient to unleash her dear mamma's imagination and convince her that a proposal from one or other of them must be imminent. She had only to mention that she had danced twice with Lord Edward Netherby at the ball of his mother, Lady Netherby, who had subsequently invited her to dine, for Mrs. Bennet to believe that they were all but engaged.

Elizabeth did nothing to disabuse her mother of these fantasies, but simply smiled demurely and was greatly pleased to be spared her mother's matrimonial campaigning on her behalf. It could thus be entirely devoted to her sister, Kitty, who took as much pleasure in the enterprise as her mother.

Mr. Bennet, as was his wont, spent much of his time sequestered in his library. But at mealtimes, when the company of the ladies could not be avoided, he was very happy to have at least one companion at the table with whom a sensible conversation was possible. Indeed, he enjoyed Elizabeth's company so much that he often invited her to join him in his library, especially when he was attempting to fathom something or other of a perplexing nature.

***

One evening, Mr. Bennet called Elizabeth to the library, for he had just that day received some surprising news from London. “My brother Gardiner writes that he has recently learned that George Wickham resigned his commission some months ago, and that he and Lydia have left Newcastle and are presently domiciled in London.”

“Good heavens,” said Elizabeth. “Has Lydia made no mention of it in her letters?”

“She hardly bothers to write. I believe it is several months at least, since either your mother or Kitty received a letter from her.”

“But what can they be living on, Father?” asked Elizabeth.

“That is the very question which is perplexing me, Lizzy. London is the most expensive place in all of England that they could have chosen to live,” replied Mr. Bennet, becoming silent for some time before continuing, “I wrote to your uncle when you informed me that it was Mr. Darcy, and not he, who paid everything to bring about Lydia's marriage. Since you counselled me to neither thank nor offer to repay Mr. Darcy, I have done neither; however, I wished to know exactly how much he had laid out, and your uncle was good enough to furnish me with the details. It was, in fact, well above ten thousand pounds; most of it went towards clearing Wickham's debts of honour. There was also the purchase of his commission in the regulars, and some five hundred pounds in addition, that Wickham demanded as the price for marrying Lydia.”

“So much?” asked Elizabeth, astonished.

“Yes,” replied her father. “I have little doubt that he will have long ago gambled away the five hundred pounds. I imagine his reason for leaving the regulars was that he might cash up his commission to pay off gambling debts.”

“But how can they live – most especially in London – without money?” asked Elizabeth.

“I have not the least idea,” replied Mr. Bennet with a sigh. “Lydia receives one hundred pounds a year from me. I understand that Mr. Darcy settled one thousand pounds upon her; but neither she, nor Wickham, can touch it; they have only the benefit of the interest, which gives them a total of one hundred and forty pounds per annum – hardly enough for a gentleman and lady to live upon in London. Yet from what your uncle has been able to ascertain, they are living in moderate comfort in lodgings. Wickham has applied to neither Mr. Gardiner nor myself for funds. Lizzy, do you think it possible that Darcy has given him more money?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I think it exceedingly unlikely, Father, given his strong disapprobation of George Wickham, and considering everything he has already done for them.”

“Yes, I agree, it is indeed unlikely. Whatever responsibility for Lydia's elopement Mr. Darcy has imputed to himself, it must have been assuaged many times over by his most commendable generosity. He gave Wickham a golden opportunity, one which he did not deserve, to make his way in the world as a gentleman. If Wickham threw it away, then Mr. Darcy can in no way hold himself responsible – or feel in the least bit bound to give him so much as another penny.”

“Could Wickham perhaps have found some form of occupation in London, do you think?”

Mr. Bennet snorted. “That would seem most unlikely. He is an idler who fancies himself far too much the gentleman to earn his living; and in any case, he has not the required education.”

“Perhaps Wickham's luck at the gaming table has turned. Is it possible that they might be living off his winnings?”

Mr. Bennet shook his head. “No doubt sometimes he must win; but Wickham is not clever enough to be a successful gambler. He is, I suspect, the sort of man who when he wins, will continue to gamble until he loses, and has nothing left.”

***

Towards the end of summer, entirely without warning, Lydia arrived at Longbourn for her confinement. It came as a great surprise to everyone, as she had not mentioned in her infrequent letters that she was with child. Wickham's company had done nothing to improve her conduct – quite the contrary. She was even louder and less restrained than ever, and was given to taking generous amounts of wine at the dinner table, causing her to become even rowdier. Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth soon gave up their attempts at admonishment, for she would listen to no one. Her mother, as always, indulged her, and could find no fault in her favourite – it was just youthful high spirits; and Kitty found it amusing.

One afternoon, after the meal, as she was enjoying her customary walk in the garden, Elizabeth encountered Lydia, reclining indecorously beneath a large tree. On account of the wine she had consumed with the meal, she was sleepy, and had begun to doze off in the sunshine. However, on spying Elizabeth, she roused herself and began complaining about how boring it was to be back at Longbourn, and how much happier she had been in London.

“How I do wish Wickham had not insisted upon my returning to Longbourn for my confinement. There is nothing to do here, there are no amusements, and there is nowhere to go!”

“But Lydia, that is the nature of a confinement; one does not go out and seek amusements; one is confined at home.”

“Well, if you say so,” retorted Lydia, irritably. “Still, I cannot see why it was necessary to begin my confinement quite so soon; the baby is not due for another month at least. I think it most unfair that I should have to remain here in Hertfordshire, while Wickham, no doubt, is enjoying himself in town.”

“Lydia,” asked Elizabeth, “has Wickham found some occupation in London?”

Lydia laughed. “How droll you are, Lizzy; my Wickham would be far too proud for that.”

“But then what do you live upon? However can you afford to remain in London?”

Lydia smiled conspiratorially. “I am not supposed to know about it, because Wickham carries on the business behind closed doors, and contrives to send me out on some errand or other when she is coming.”

“When who is coming?” asked Elizabeth, becoming curious.

“Caroline Bingley.”

Elizabeth was stunned. “What? Caroline Bingley – the sister of Charles Bingley? What can she possibly have to do with your husband? Are you certain, Lydia?”

“Oh yes,” said Lydia with a cunning smile. “The first time she came, he sent me out to make a purchase from the wine merchant; but I became suspicious because we still had several bottles left, and so I watched from the shop window across the street and saw her arrive and then later leave. It was most definitely Caroline Bingley!”

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Elizabeth, not knowing what it might possibly mean.

“She comes every few months, and afterwards Wickham has money. He pays Mrs. Younge the rent that is owed to her, and we dine well and enjoy all manner of amusements – until the money runs out.”

“But… why would Caroline Bingley give Wickham money?”

“As you may imagine, Lizzy, I was most curious myself; but I could not ask him, as I was not supposed to even know of her visits. So on one occasion when Wickham sent me away, I hid myself instead, and after she arrived, I listened at the parlour door.”

Elizabeth was shocked. Shocked at the clandestine meetings between Wickham and Miss Bingley, and shocked at Lydia's unprincipled behaviour in spying upon them. She knew that she should walk away and refuse to hear any more of the affair. But she could not; her curiosity was by this time so aroused that she simply could not do what she knew honour and propriety demanded.

“They argue,” revealed Lydia. “Wickham is always demanding more money than she will give him. Once, I heard him threatening to reveal something about a letter. She kept saying that Wickham agreed to the amount in Newcastle, and that he must stand by the agreement. I could not hear everything, because sometimes they spoke softly, but I am certain that I heard Wickham mention Mr. Darcy's name – and yours.”

Elizabeth gasped. It was impossible to weave all the extraordinary pieces of Lydia's revelation together into a comprehensible whole. Elizabeth had no more idea of what it could be about than her sister. But somehow, deep within, the conviction was beginning to form that this bizarre business was in some way related to Mr. Darcy's behaviour towards herself.