Page 76 of A Most Favourable Match

Once through the front door and in the hallway, Darcy and Grantchester could hear the voices of the Bingley siblings from the drawing room, exchanging anguished words.

“I cannot let that scoundrel, that rake, ruin your life, Caroline. I shall call him out!”

“What good will that do, Charles? You might die,and I will still have to marry Wickham if he lives, or die an old maid in disgrace. What other choice is there?”

Approaching the door, the two men paused there and looked at one another. Then, Darcy knocked and entered, Grantchester at his shoulder.

“Darcy, thank God! What news?” cried Bingley, his faith in Darcy’s powers both touching and misplaced, while Caroline Bingley’s face looked utterly defeated.

Darcy shook his head. “Wickham will not be moved,” he told them. “Nor is he willing to change his story.”

“Then I am ruined!” Miss Bingley cried out in despair, dropping into a chair and covering her face with her hands. “I will have to marry that, that…creature.”

At that, Lord Grantchester cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Miss Bingley, if you will consider what I have to say carefully, I may be able to offer you a more palatable choice.”

Chapter 29

“I always said that George Wickham was a rogue,” Mrs Bennet claimed as the whole family sat over tea in the parlour.

“I don’t think you did, Mother,” Elizabeth pointed out, exchanging doubtful looks with Jane. “He was at Longbourn for tea often enough.”

“With the other officers, yes. I could hardly stop him when they were invited, could I? Even if I tried, none of you would have listened to me. It was all Wickham this and Wickham that ever since he joined the regiment, regardless of what I thought.”

“Your powers of persuasion are legendary, my dear,” remarked Mr Bennet drily to his wife as he sipped at his cup. “What always amazes me most is your capacity to persuade yourself of a thing.”

Mrs Bennet looked suspiciously at him, grasping that she was being mocked in some way. Elizabeth sighed. It felt as though their family had talked about nothing else all day. Miss Bingley’s ruin had been the sole topic of conversation at luncheon and throughout the early afternoon, regardless of Jane’s obvious distressand Elizabeth’s disapproval. Even Mr Bennet seemed to find the sorry affair a great source of humour.

“I wish we could talk of something else,” Jane said aloud, although little notice seemed to be taken of her pleas by the rest of the family.

“At least Mother has forgotten her disappointment in Lord Grantchester not coming to supper,” Elizabeth murmured to her sister. “That is the only silver lining in this cloud.”

“Will they marry in Meryton, do you think, Mother?” asked Lydia with thoughtless curiosity. “Or will they go back to London? I should like to see their wedding. What do you think Miss Bingley will wear?”

“It is all so dreadful,” commented Jane as her mother and younger sisters speculated on wedding dresses and how fast they might be made. “I’m sure it must all have been some terrible misunderstanding. Miss Bingley would never do such a thing, and how poor Mr Bingley must be suffering too.”

“It seems like even Miss Bingley could not resist a red coat,” Kitty giggled.

“Although she preferred to take it off,” Lydia remarked with unbecoming sauciness for a young girl, before the two youngest Bennets descended into unseemly laughter.

“Lydia, Kitty!” Elizabeth remonstrated with them, wishing that her parents would intervene, although neither seemed minded to do so.

“Do try to see that it is wrong to find humourin our neighbours’ troubles,” Jane pleaded gently with them.

“Fordyce has much to say on the subject of womanly decency, a great deal of which extends to humour, in my opinion,” Mary pronounced rather pompously, drawing groans and rolled eyes from the two offenders. “Modesty and quietness of speech are paramount —”

“I suppose Mr Wickham will be rich now and will leave the regiment,” Mrs Bennet thought aloud. “That is a shame, for regimentals do suit him.”

Exasperated by her family, Elizabeth stood. “Wickham is a rogue, and he has somehow entrapped Miss Bingley for her money,” she declared rather fiercely. “We should all pity her situation, not joke about it. If the Bingleys can find some way out of this, and I hope they will, I shall applaud them. Otherwise, there is nothing more to be said.”

While the ladies of the house fell temporarily silent at this outburst, Mr Bennet looked at his favourite child over the tops of his glasses. “That seems as likely an explanation as I have heard, Lizzy,” her father mused. “Still, I cannot share any optimism that the Bingleys might find any way out of the scandal other than Miss Bingley marrying this dubious character. Mr Bingley might be rich by Longbourn standards, but they’d need a title and a king’s ransom to walk away from this untouched.”

At the next moment, a loud, determined knocking sounded at the door, clearly audible even from the parlour. Mrs Bennet ran to the window and peeredoutside.

“There is a fine horse tied up outside. Jane, it must be Lord Grantchester, come to take you back after all. Quick tidy your dress and let me pinch your cheeks. Lydia, Kitty, put all those bits of bonnet into the cupboard. Lizzy, go and meet him in the hallway and tell Hill to bring tea.”

While not sharing her mother’s confidence as to the identity of the caller, Elizabeth went to do her bidding. It might well be Lord Grantchester, come to report the success or failure of his mission at Netherfield, or Lord Keeble, bearing tidings on his behalf.

In her heart of hearts, Elizabeth wanted it to be another man entirely, and her pulse quickened perceptibly as her imagination conjured the image of a tall, dark figure striding into the house and declaring… Declaring what? She stopped herself before she could put words into his mouth and then felt her own ridiculousness when she saw their actual visitor taking off his hat in the doorway.