Page 6 of The Gossip War
Elizabeth laughed in a way that was good to hear.
“No, sir! Jane and I swore to only marry for love, which admittedly seems a lost cause for Hertfordshire men in general, and you in particular. My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners—my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. No sir… I can assure you that I did not suddenly decide that you would make a marginally acceptable husband.”
He looked perplexed, the same as I felt.
“What changed? Were you so offended by the injustice of the compromise as to sacrifice yourself for your sisters’ security and my honour?”
Elizabeth laughed heartily, having recovered her composure.
“You misunderstand, sir! The engagement is not only non-existent—it is temporary. We will most certainly not be married—not even close.”
He just stared at her a moment looking as confused as I felt. She had publicly declared themselves engaged, and he had not contradicted her. I expected to smell smoke as we both tried to work it out, but he finally gave up.
“If you plan to jilt me, it will not harm me terribly, but it would adversely affect both yours and your sisters’ reputations.”
Lizzy laughed. “No jilting will be required. It is quite simple. You and the Bingleys are forgetting one of the most fundamental requirements for a proposal to become an engagement.”
Mr Darcy just shook his head in confusion, thus matching my own state.
“You must see it, Jane? The solution is entirely obvious.”
I simply shook my head, having no idea what she was about, so Elizabeth quit toying with us.
“It is simple. My father will deny his consent! That is the only way an accepted proposal can be broken without loss of reputation on either side. You might be embarrassed, but your reputation will not suffer unduly, nor will the Bennets be labelled as jilts. At that point, we will never have been properly engaged! Even had you asked, and I accepted, we would not be engaged without his consent.
“However, by the time that becomes known, we will have dispensed with the Bingleys. My father might take some gossip, but he will find the whole thing vastly amusing.
“With your reputation in the neighbourhood being so poor already, nobody will think a thing of it except our mother.”
Both Mr Darcy and I gasped.
The solution seemed just too simple, but after several minutes of thinking it through, I had to reluctantly admit Lizzy had it right. The plan should work, and our father would indeed enjoy the spectacle.
What our mother thought of the scheme was something I did not wish to contemplate. While she seemed overtly mercenary to all outward appearances, she took Mr Darcy’s slight of Elizabeth at the assembly to heart and forbade all of us from even dancing with him. If she found out he was both rich and apologetic, what would she think, or worse, do?
I hoped she would want Lizzy to make her own decisions, but I would not bet on it. My guess was that Lizzy had just madeherself a tough row to hoe—but nothing like Mr Darcy had been facing. She could easily endure a few weeks or even months of our mother’s recriminations.
As to our reputations, our father’s reputation as a crusty and contrary old curmudgeon would be enhanced, much to his delight. Ours and Mr Darcy’s would suffer nothing worse than some embarrassment, but entirely offset by being friends with the Darcys, which would have enormous benefits. It could work!
I thought to divert Mr Darcy for a moment before his head exploded over the fact that a Cambridge man had been out-thought by a twenty-year-old woman who had not spent five minutes in school, so I asked something that was bothering me.
“Mr Darcy, you looked like you might go along with their scheme before Lizzy jumped in front of the racing horse. Why? I know your reputation might be slightly damaged by an accusation of compromising a nominal lady, so why go along, or pretend to? Is it because of your sister? Were you just stalling or seriously considering it?”
He sighed, looked at the both of us, and came to a decision. “You have the right of it, Miss Bennet. May I ask, Miss Elizabeth, was that the conclusion you came to in less than five minutes?”
“It was. Absent genuine concern for your sister’s welfare, you could drown the Bingleys like rats and send them scurrying back to the north with their tails between their legs, never to be seen in polite society again. I assumed Miss Darcy did something compromising, and you do not want all the gossip mongers of the ton looking for dirt.”
“Too smart by half, Miss Elizabeth!” he said with a sigh. “You are correct. Last summer, she agreed to elope with the son of my father’s steward. He is a reprobate, womaniser, gambler, seducer, and professional liar. He worked with her companion, who was in league with him, to seduce her into thinking herself in love. He did not take her virtue, only because he knew mycousin, a colonel and her co-guardian, would think nothing of making my sister a widow. He was only after her fortune of £30,000.”
He stared at the floor, looking sadder than I had ever seen a man look, before continuing.
“I chanced upon them a couple of days before they planned to leave for Scotland and stopped it by pure luck. I paid off everyone to keep quiet, but it would not take much digging to restore their memories. My sister is a shell of what she was, and she was not outgoing even before. It will take a long time for her to recover—if ever.”
I was surprised when Lizzy reached across and squeezed his arm in sympathy.
“If that was last summer, then you must have been frantic when you came here… and then that annoying whelp dragged you to an assembly… then nagged you relentlessly to dance with an unknown lady… with a loud and mercenary mother.”
He just nodded, and I could almost see Lizzy’s compassion rise. She squeezed his arm another time. “I am so sorry! You are completely forgiven for the assembly. I should have let it go long ago. My mother says worse about me to my face every other day.”
