Janet Aylmer - Darcy’s Story

She seemed unaware of his presence. After a few moments, her apparent distress made him say, very gently,

“Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take, to give you present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”

“No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”

She then burst into tears, and for a few minutes could not speak another word.

Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say something indistinctly of his concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. Eventually, she straightened herself in the chair and he reluctantly let go of her hand as she spoke.

“I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from any one. My youngest sister has left all her friends and has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of . . . of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to... she is lost for ever.”

Darcy could find nothing valuable to say.

“When I consider,” she added, in a yet more agitated voice, “that I might have prevented it! I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it, only some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, all too late now.”

His first thought on hearing her speak was that she had kept the confidence that he had entrusted to her about Georgiana and Wickham.

The second was that his first thought was unworthy if, by maintaining that silence which he himself had asked, she had been unable to prevent what had now happened to her sister.

Unable to find any words to allay her distress and, as Miss Bennet seemed lost in unhappy thought, he at first kept silent. Then, lest he appeared unconcerned, he said with complete truth, “I am grieved, indeed, grieved and shocked.”

Seeking to give her something to hope for, he went on, “But is it certain, absolutely certain?”

“Oh yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland.”

“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”

“My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”

As Darcy shook his head silently, his mind was busy.

Wickham, he recalled, had spent some time during the past few years in London. Indeed, it was there that Darcy believed he had met Mrs. Younge, who had taken charge of Georgiana with such unhappy results. It could be that his sister’s unfortunate experience might enable him to trace Wickham when Mr. Bennet and his brother Gardiner could not.

He was roused from his thoughts by Miss Bennet’s distressed tones, as she said,

“When my eyes were opened to his real character.—Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared, to do! But I knew not,—I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched, mistake!”

Darcy made no answer. That she accepted his opinion of Wickham was so very welcome; his concern now was more for her distress than for the fate that might befall her sister.

However, there seemed to be nothing he could say which might not promise what might not be achievable, or appear facile when he wished to show his genuine anxiety.

At last, and after a pause of several minutes, he felt that he should intrude no longer, and said to her quietly,

“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part, that might offer consolation to such distress. But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks.”

Her head was bowed, and she did not reply. After regarding her gravely for some moments, Darcy rose to his feet. Before he turned to leave the room, he suddenly recollected the plans which had been made for them to meet later.

“This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley today.”

“Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible. I know it cannot be long.”

He readily assured her of his secrecy and concern for her distress, wished for a happier conclusion than might appear likely, and left his compliments for her relations.

As he reached the door, Darcy could not bring himself to leave without turning to give her a last, long, look, for he knew not when he might see her again.

Miss Bennet had lifted her head and, just for a moment, he fancied that there was something in her expression that was more than anxiety; more than regret at his going.

But it was no time to linger, or indulge his own concerns. Without saying any more, he left the room and shut the door behind him.

He has been accused of many faults at different

times, but this was the true one. Nothing was to be

done that he did not do himself.

It was in a very different frame of mind from a few hours earlier that Darcy made the journey back to Pemberley.

What changes there had been over the past days and hours to excite his emotions. He had gone from despair, through shock, to pleasure and delight, and back again.

It was some comfort to him that Miss Bennet’s aunt and uncle would be travelling with her. They both seemed to be people of a sensible disposition and sound character, on whom she and her father could rely to assist in this unhappy matter.

However, as he rode across the valley towards the house, Darcy was more than ever certain that he should involve himself in the search for Wickham and the youngest Miss Bennet.

He was under no illusion that this intention rested on any regard for either of them. His opinion of the gentleman in particular was incapable of improvement, especially after their encounter at Ramsgate. His dislike had not been lessened by the attraction that might have fleetingly affected Elizabeth Bennet before Darcy had made her aware of Wickham’s true character.

At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that deception was over. Indeed, he would be able to think of the lady as his Elizabeth in his dreams, now that particular bar to their future acquaintance had been removed.

The recollection of what he had written in his letter at Rosings reminded him forcefully of all that unhappy conversation with her on the evening when he had declared his heart. He thought, ruefully, that his resolution on leaving Rosings to forget his affections and all his memories of the lady and Hertfordshire had come to very little.

His reservations about some of her family had, Darcy feared, been only too justified in respect of her youngest sister. If he now needed to travel at short notice to town, a place which had very little pleasure to offer him in the summer, and to pursue two people for whom he had so little regard, that would be nothing if Elizabeth Bennet might as a result find the situation resolved, and the ill-suited couple brought to marriage.

When he reached the house, Darcy sought out his sister, finding her in the first floor sitting room playing her pianoforte.

“Georgiana, I have to travel to London tomorrow—there is business I have to attend to for a few days.”

His sister looked puzzled, for they had only left town some four days earlier.

“It must be very urgent?” she replied.

“Yes,” said Darcy, “but I should not be there long.”

“Can I not come with you?” said Georgiana.

He looked at her with some surprise, for she usually preferred being in Derbyshire above all else. Since he had observed that Elizabeth Bennet also enjoyed country pursuits, he had wished so much that they could have had more time to become acquainted.

“It is better not. Besides, Bingley and his sisters are here as our guests, and they will be company for you.”

He hesitated, and then added, “It would be of help to me if you would entertain them in my absence. I will return directly.”

“Mr. Bingley is always very pleasant...,” his sister said slowly.

Darcy recalled their conversation in London a few months ago about Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. “I will ask him to take particular care of you. Do you wish me to speak to Mrs. Annesley also?”

Georgiana replied in the negative.

“Bingley and his sisters are to go on to Scarborough in a couple of weeks’ time. If my return from town has to be delayed, I promise that I will let you know directly.”

His sister smiled at him. “Thank you. But were not Miss Bennet, her uncle and aunt to join us for dinner tomorrow?”

Darcy had been debating on the journey from Lambton whether to tell his sister about Elizabeth Bennet’s urgent return south. It could be concealed without any need to tell a falsehood.