Page 52 of Grief and Grievances
“Elizabeth, Jane,” he said, his voice sombre, “After confirming what you told me regarding Mr. Wickham’s habits, I have decided to forbid Lydia from accompanying the militia to Brighton. It is high time our family put an end to this reckless pursuit of soldiers and frivolity.”
“Father!” Elizabeth cried, her eyes widening in surprise. She had expected him to yield to Lydia’s whims, as he so often did. Jane, too, looked at their father with astonishment, though she said nothing.
“Your mother will no doubt be displeased,” Mr. Bennet continued, his gaze fixed on the crackling fire, “but I can no longer stand idly by while our family’s reputation is further tarnished. It is my hope that this decision will deter Lydia from any future improprieties.”
“Indeed, sir,” Elizabeth replied, her voice filled with relief. “Your intervention demonstrates great wisdom and foresight.”
“Thank you, Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said, offering her a small, tired smile. “I gave you my word that I would take this action if I was able to confirm what you told me about Mr. Wickham, and it took little effort to do so.”
“Thank you for listening to me, Papa,” Elizabeth said softly.
“Well, well, it seems you had a great deal of wisdom for me, Lizzy. I shall try to listen to you more often.” He gave her an absent-minded smile, and then nodded as Jane offered him a cup of tea. “I think I will, Jane, I thank you.” He took a seat and accepted the cup. “It is good to have you home, girls,” he said tenderly. “I shall miss you a great deal when you are both married and gone away.”
Both Elizabeth and Jane blushed and looked at the floor, Elizabeth wondering why her father should include her in that statement. Had Mr. Darcy said something, when he spoke to her father of Wickham? A slightly uneasy silence fell as the three of them sipped their tea, each lost in their own thoughts.
The door to the drawing room slammed open, shattering the fragile peace that had settled within its walls. Lydia Bennet stormed in, her face a picture of wrath, her chest heaving with indignation. Behind her, the rest of the family trailed, exchanging worried glances and bracing themselves for the impending storm.
“Father, this is simply too cruel! You simply must allow me to accompany the militia to Brighton!” Lydia’s voice pierced the air. Elizabeth winced at the shrillness of it.
“Lydia,” Mr. Bennet replied calmly, setting his teacup aside, “I have made my decision, and I will not be swayed. You will remain at Longbourn.”
“Please, Father!” Lydia pleaded, her desperation evident in her quivering voice. “Brighton promises such amusement, and I am certain I shall be inconsolable if left behind!”
“Lydia, you must learn that there are consequences to your actions,” Mr. Bennet maintained, his gaze steady and unyielding. “Your conduct has been far from exemplary, and I cannot, in all conscience, permit you to cavort with the militia any longer.”
“Consequences?” Lydia scoffed, her cheeks flushed with anger. “I see no reason why I should be singled out for punishment! None of my sisters have suffered thus!”
“Indeed, they have not required such correction,” Mr. Bennet agreed, casting a meaningful glance in Elizabeth’s direction. The unspoken message did not go unnoticed by her—she was well aware of her father’s newfound resolve and the role she had inadvertently played in shaping it.
“But Father,” Lydia persisted, tears now forming in her eyes, “if you deny me this one happiness, I shall never forgive you!”
“Your threats hold no power here, Lydia,” Mr. Bennet declared, his voice firm. “My decision is final.”
As her father’s words sunk in, Lydia’s expression crumpled. She let out a heart-wrenching sob before fleeing the room, leaving her family to grapple with the aftermath of her tantrum.
“Mr. Bennet, you must reconsider!” Mrs. Bennet cried, wringing her hands in distress. “Lydia will never recover from such disappointment!”
“Enough, madam,” he replied, silencing her with a raised hand. “I have made my decision, and it stands.”
Elizabeth, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of relief and trepidation, found herself once more consumed by the tangle of emotions that had plagued her ever since Mr. Darcy’s proposal. As her father stood his ground against Lydia’s demands, she couldn’t help but wonder how their lives might have been different had he displayed such resolve sooner.
“Come, Jane,” Elizabeth murmured to her sister, placing a gentle hand on her arm. The two sisters retreated to a quiet corner of the drawing room, where they could discuss the matter privately while still keeping an eye on the unfolding drama.
“Jane,” Elizabeth began hesitantly, “I must confess that I am profoundly relieved by Father’s decision regarding Lydia and Brighton. It would have provided far too tempting an opportunity for her to engage in reckless behaviour with Mr. Wickham.”
“Indeed, Lizzy,” Jane agreed, her voice soft but firm. “Lydia has shown herself to be incapable of exercising proper judgement when it comes to men, and particularly so with Wickham. However charming he may appear, we know him to be decidedly untrustworthy.”
“Untrustworthy indeed,” Elizabeth murmured, recalling with a shudder the tales she had heard of Wickham’s deceitful nature and vengeful disposition towards the Darcys. She could not suppress a tremor of apprehension at the thought of how his malice might yet endanger them all. “I cannot help but fear that Wickham may still find some means to wreak havoc upon our lives, even from afar. Should he learn of Mr. Darcy’s proposal, it is entirely possible that his enmity could be directed towards me and our family.”
“True,” Jane conceded with a heavy sigh. “But we must place our trust in the strength of our family’s bond and the wisdom of those who care for us, such as Mr. Darcy. Let us hope that his love will prove a powerful shield against any harm that Wickham might seek to inflict.”
Elizabeth nodded, her heart warmed by Jane’s unwavering faith in the goodness of others. “Promise me, Jane,” she said at length, her voice steady with resolve, “that we shall not allow fear to dictate our actions or shape our lives. We must be vigilant, yes, but also brave and true to ourselves.”
“Of course, Lizzy,” Jane replied, squeezing her sister’s hand affectionately. “Together, we shall face whatever challenges may come our way and, I trust, emerge all the stronger for it.”
Elizabeth could only pray that Jane would prove to be correct.
Chapter Twenty-Four
