Page 74 of Resilience

“They must be made to understand that she is here because she was harmed, not because she is an indulged and conniving temptress. The Misses Jenks are sympathetic. Perhaps they can be of help.”

“If Deborah Jenks is openly kind and respectful to your sister, the entire village will fall in behind her. She is considered the beacon of propriety here.” He hesitated. “We must also worry that if gossip travels beyond Lambton it may reach places and people less forgiving than this village. We must be careful in how Mrs Wickham is introduced to society.”

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. “You fear she will be judged before she is known.”

“Yes.”

She laced her fingers through his. “Then we shall do our very best. We shall be insistent. We shall be kind. And we shall not allow others to define her by the worst man she ever knew.”

He looked down at her in fascination. “You are formidable.”

She giggled. “I have had a great deal of practice with difficult relations.”

Outside their door, the house lay silent. Somewhere in a distant corridor, a door closed softly. Life at Pemberley continued. Within its walls, two people resolved to meet injustice not with pride or distance, but with care.

A few days later, Elizabeth invited the Misses Jenks and Miss Poole to call upon her and Lydia. Mary attended as well. She sent her carriage to convey them, and hoped that the ladies would see Lydia as the child she was, and forgive her for who she had married in her foolishness. If Lydia could gain at least the sympathy, if not the approbation of these ladies, it could prevent much difficulty in the village.

Her hope was rewarded when Lydia, who had appeared at Elizabeth’s request under duress, appeared afraid of her own shadow, and barely spoke above a whisper. It pained Elizabeth to see her lively younger sister so broken, but at this moment, it was this vulnerability that would save her reputation in Lambton.

Miss Jenks, Miss Matilda, and Miss Poole, uncommonly kind and gentle as always, were properly shocked afresh by Wickham’s perfidy when they took in the sight of Mrs Wickham, and did not stay long. Deborah Jenks pressed Elizabeth’s hand in understanding as they took their leave.

The next evening, just before dinner, a footman entered the drawing room with uncharacteristic haste, his expression troubled.

“Mr Darcy,” he said quietly, “there are several tenants gathered at the back steps. They demand to speak with you. They are agitated. Mrs Reynolds attempted to send them away, but they insist upon being heard.”

Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a glance.

“I will see them,” Darcy said at once.

Elizabeth rose. “I am coming with you.”

“Mrs Darcy, I must insist that you allow–” he began before his wife interrupted him.

“No.” Elizabeth crossed her arms and glared at him.

“I am coming too,” Richard hastened from his chair. “Georgie, Prissy, remain inside.” His tone brooked no argument.

Assembled behind the house, were three men and four women, plainly dressed, their faces lined by weather and labour. The men stood with hats in hand, but their posture was tense, wounded pride mixed with sadness.

Mr Brewer, whose family had farmed the lower fields for three generations, stepped forward first. “Begging your pardon, Mr Darcy,” he said stiffly. “We would not disturb your family lightly.”

“You are never a disturbance here, Mr Brewer,” Darcy replied respectfully. “Speak freely.”

Brewer hesitated, as if he felt quite differently now that he was here, and faced with Mr Darcy’s respectful address and his gentle wife.

His wife had no difficulty pushing him aside, and answering. “It is being said that Mrs Wickham resides in the big house.”

Elizabeth sensed her husband and Richard tense.

Darcy’s voice remained even. “It is true.”

A gasp rippled through the small group. Mrs Blackwell let out a small cry.

“And she lives here in comfort here at the big house,” she said angrily. “Warm rooms, fine food, kindness and protection.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said gently. “She does.”

The woman’s voice trembled. “My daughter had none of that when he was done with her.” Her words were not sharp, but they struck Elizabeth’s heart all the same.