Page 37 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
“Certainly,” said Elizabeth. “How do you take it?”
Mrs. Hurst gave her instruction. Elizabeth prepared the tea as Caroline spoke.
“We dine with Miss Darcy at least once a week these days,” said Caroline. “And during one such evening, I decided that I was going to get to the bottom of this entire situation, so I mentioned Mr. Wickham. It was not a comment made for Miss Darcy, but for her brother’s reaction. However, she did react. You should have seen herface.”
“Oh?” Elizabeth was pouring milk into the tea for Mrs. Hurst.
“She wentwhite,” said Caroline. “And then, she sprang up from the table, said she was feeling poorly and pleaded to be excused. Then she fled.”
“I don’t think I’d say fled,” said Mrs. Hurst. “Clearly there is a rift there, and Mr. Wickham was likely a fixture in her young life and—”
“Then, I made to go after her to console her, and I was strenuously prevented from it by not only Mr. Darcy but my brother,” said Caroline. “A few weeks later, I tried to speak to her about it whilst she was playing the piano, and she said that she had been instructed never to speak Mr. Wickham’s name aloud. Then, she excused herselfagain.”
“Oh, I did not know this!” cried Mrs. Hurst, reaching out for her tea. “Why are you terrorizing that girl, Caroline?”
“Furthermore, I think that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy have entered into some agreement wherein Charles is going to marry her.”
“Marry Miss Darcy?” Elizabeth’s heart squeezed. “Oh.”
“Well, I think we must prevent it,” said Caroline. “Friday evening, we are all going to a ball at the Spencer house. If I contrive to get a carriage separate from Charles, and come to collect you, are you free? We must put you back in Charles’s path, you see?”
Elizabeth was stunned. What would she wear? A ball in town, with those sorts of people? “I am free,” she said faintly. “But I’m not sure if I should attend. I’m not invited, am I?”
“I am inviting you, am I not?” said Caroline, taking another biscuit.
“Yes, but…” Elizabeth trailed off. “I should be most pleased and honored, of course.”
“Oh, heavens,” said Mrs. Hurst into her tea. “Caroline, truly, you are making far too much of whatever slight you think Mr. Darcy has visited upon you.”
“Mr. Darcy insulted me in front ofeverybody, and if mybrother cared a jot about my feelings, he wouldn’t force me into Mr. Darcy’s company at every opportunity!” cried Caroline.
“I don’t know what you think this Wickham business could be,” said Mrs. Hurst. “How could it possibly involve poor, shy Miss Darcy?”
Caroline chewed the biscuit, smiling at Elizabeth. She swallowed. “We must seek that information from Mr. Wickham, I think. Can you write home and instruct someone there to inquire with Mr. Wickham? He is still associating with your family, isn’t he?”
“Well, actually, he is,” said Elizabeth. “He and a few officers dined at Longbourn recently. Jane wrote to me of it. She says she has been speaking to him often, in fact.”
“Wondrous,” said Caroline. “If you send a letter right now, is it possible we could have an answer by Friday?”
Elizabeth sputtered.
“Oh, come, the post between here and Hertfordshire is quite fast,” said Caroline.
“I shall write,” said Elizabeth.
“Oh, Eliza, thank you so very much. I cannot tell you how good it is to see you!” said Caroline. “I should like to throw my arms round your neck, I am so very overcome with pleasure.”
“Heavens,” said Mrs. Hurst into her teacup. “We really must be going, Caroline.”
“You will need a dress,” said Caroline to Elizabeth. “I have something castoff I could lend you, if you wish it.”
A castoff dress? Elizabeth would have liked to refuse. It was an insult. But this was not simply about her pride; this was about her entire family’s future. So she forced herself to smile. “You’re too kind, Miss Bingley.”
ELIZABETH’S LETTER WENTthrough the regular post.
Jane’s letter came back from a servant, hastily given to herthrough the door in the kitchens, and with instruction that Elizabeth must make up the difference in whatever money Jane had promised the fellow to ride all the way to London with a letter.
Elizabeth did not have a great deal of pocket money, and she would rather not have parted with so much of it, but she did so, anxiety rising in her chest.
