Page 15 of The Gossip War
My wife asked, “You look like you are in love, Lizzy,” with a wistful expression that made me wonder if there might another love story that could be rekindled—though that was obviously a problem for another day.
Elizabeth may or may not have nodded, but she looked to my future son in a way that left no doubt, while Jane gave a smile that made her usual serene countenance look like an ordinary woman’s pout.
“Walk me through it,” I asked gently.
Mr Darcy looked to Elizabeth for permission, which I thought showed a remarkable sense of self-preservation. I thought they were likely to get on well, and it would certainly do her sisters’ matrimonial prospects no harm.
“I have had a number of compromise attempts over the years, and thought I had adequate protections.”
“Tell me about them,” I asked, not especially interested, but thinking it might be useful to know how far the Bingleys went in their scheme, which would in turn give a glimpse into how desperate they were, and how likely to cause further mischief.
“I have a set of oak wedges, chains, and metal bars I use to bar the door. Nobody can enter without an axe or battering ram. I do the same for the servant’s door and window. I thought my room as impervious as Newgate.”
“Go on.”
“As far as I can tell, someone removed most of the putty on one of the windows in the balcony doors. Last night, Bingley climbed down from the roof on a rope, removed the weakened windows, reached in to remove the wedge and lock, and gained entry to the room. After that, it was a simple matter to remove the rest of the mechanisms and unlock the door from the inside.”
I saw Jane and Elizabeth looking startled, so I imagined this was news to them. They had obviously had other things to think about at the time.
“Bingley and I shared some brandy that I suspect was dosed with laudanum, and I was asleep just before eleven, and very muddled when I awoke. He opened the room and admitted his sister dressed like a—”
He stopped his description, but Elizabeth amusingly took up the slack. “My first thought was that I could read a newspaper by candlelight through her nightgown.”
My wife laughed awkwardly, while I remembered a time when I had been privileged to see such a thing on a lady fifty times as pleasant as Miss Bingley, and I wondered why I let all that go.
Darcy continued, “We met your daughters on the way to the study to discuss things. Miss Elizabeth whispered that it was a rescue, and not a compromise, then announced our engagement. Her plan was as you surmised, but I am the luckiest man alive. She forgave my many offenses and somehow fell in love with me over a couple of hours.”
Jane showed herself to be more astute than most gave her credit for. “I do not think so, brother. She has never in her life taken an insult so hard, nor taken such an abrupt dislike to someone. I always suspected the lady doth protest too much. You did not insult her at the assembly—you disappointed her.”
My future son chuckled in good humour that I though presaged good tidings, both for Lizzy and myself. “That in no way negates my assertion that I am the luckiest man alive.”
“No, sir, it does not! Emphasises it, more like.”
My wife slightly surprised me with an astute question. “Where did you leave it with the Bingleys?”
“We agreed to meet in the library at one,” Elizabeth explained. “Unless they set spies on us, they probably donot know we left. Fitzwilliam told them to ensure there are no rumours, but I am not sanguine about them following directions. They will look for whatever advantage they can get, but it is difficult to guess what they will think as the best strategy. They obviously lack honour, so I imagine we should be prepared for anything.”
I was certain that she was unaware of how she pronounced the gentleman’s name, but I could discern that my wife was keenly so. I suspected that the wedding might need to be rather expeditious for more reasons than one.
My wife asked, “Do you think they will retreat with their tails between their legs or continue their scheme.”
Darcy thought a second, and finally said, “They bet everything on a single roll of the dice, knowing full well that their entire precarious position in society is dependent on me. I doubt they will relent if they think there is any chance of success—or more likely, extracting something to keep quiet. At the very least, they will hope to somehow keep me from publicly cutting them.”
“Is there a threat?” I asked in mild alarm.
With a voice that sounded like his heart was breaking, the young man gave us the story of his sister’s attempted elopement with the son of his father’s steward, and his childhood companion. This Wickham fellow sounded like a real piece of work, and I was happy I was unlikely to ever meet him.
My wife got a look in her eye that would put fear into the heart of any sensible man and spoke emphatically enough that she may as well have pounded her fist on the desk.
“Those fools want to start a gossip war! Withme?”
Longbourn Library, 3:45 AM, Mrs Bennet
I have long complained that nobody ever listens to me or cares how I suffer.
To tell the truth, the fact that I dressed in time to drag my lackadaisical husband out of bed like a wilful child (such as Lizzy) seemed like just the next trial. It was not as if the entail were going anywhere, and if Jane and Lizzy returned from Netherfield at three in the morning, the least the man could do was get up and listen to how bad thing might get.
Bless me, was I wrong!
