“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “I am of your uncle’s opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honor, and interest, for him to be guilty of it. I cannot think so very ill of Wickham. Can you, yourself, Lizzy, so wholly give him up, as to believe him capable of it?”

“I wish I could pretend that I do not believe him capable of it, but I know too much of him!”

“I do believe it is time, Lizzy, for you to tell everything you do know about this situation,” her uncle said gravely. “It is clear there is a great deal you have kept from us, and it seems that we now need to know it.”

Elizabeth flushed. “I know, and now it is obvious that I should have told the world, but at the time it seemed otherwise. Till I was in Kent, and saw so much of both Mr. Darcy and his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was ignorant of the truth myself. And when I returned home, the regiment was to leave Meryton in a week’s time. As that was the case, neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, nor I thought it necessary to make the knowledge public; for what use could it apparently be to anyone? That such a consequence as this should ensue, you may easily believe was far enough from my thoughts. And, to my shame, I knew it would not be to my advantage to reveal all that I knew, for then I should have had to say more than I liked about my sources of information, and I considered it unwise to apprise my family of my interactions with Mr. Darcy.”

“And that is another piece that I need to ask you to relate,” said her uncle. “I think you had better tell us the whole story of your Mr. Darcy.”

Elizabeth would, in fact, much rather not have told this part, but she acknowledged her uncle’s right to question her about it after the events of the day. “He is not my Mr. Darcy, uncle.”

“I think he might disagree with you there,” her uncle replied mildly. “But pray continue.”

Elizabeth blushed furiously. Slowly, and not very fluently, she attempted to relate the events that had happened in Kent, skimming only over the worst of her verbal interchange with Mr. Darcy after his proposal. She did not want them to think ill of her for her bitter words, nor did she wish to alter their perception of Mr. Darcy from the pleasant gentleman he had been at Pemberley. She explained how she had gradually given up her former prejudices after reading his letter, and of her shock at seeing him in Derbyshire, as well as her present doubts about the wisdom of her continuing any acquaintance with him after Lydia’s shame and the involvement of Wickham.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner exchanged glances. The distress in their niece’s voice clearly spoke of the struggle between her heart and her head on this subject. “Time will tell,” said Mr. Gardiner. “But I would ask you to keep in mind that Mr. Darcy is a young man in a good deal of pain over his feelings about you.”

“What did he say to you?” Elizabeth cried.

“I believe that should remain between him and me, Elizabeth. I only urge you to consider that, whether or not you return his affections, I believe that a certain degree of gentleness on your part would be in order.”

Elizabeth made no reply to this, and in fact did not speak again for some time, and then only on a different subject. That she had injured Mr. Darcy with her harsh words she could easily believe, but to think about him in pain because of her hurt more than she cared to admit. And if the Gardiners noticed an occasional tear in her eye, they were wise enough to say nothing of it, but had they seen the handkerchief she clutched so tightly in her hand, they would have seen that the initials on it were not her own.

Chapter 3

They reached Longbourn by dinnertime of the next day. Elizabeth was very glad to see Jane, who greeted them with alternating smiles and tears, and perhaps even gladder the long trip was over, for it had left her far too much time to dwell not only on the painful subject of Lydia, but on her recent meetings with Mr. Darcy, which caused such feelings that it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. Unaccustomed to struggling with such conflicting emotions, she was determined to keep her thoughts concealed, but all too often she had found the perceptive eyes of her aunt and uncle upon her, and she feared that they might be observing more of her struggle than she would choose.

Jane had no news from London to report, but was able to impart to them all the details of Lydia’s flight and Mr. Bennet’s plans for discovering her. Mrs. Bennet had secluded herself in her rooms with greatly shaken spirits.

In the afternoon, the two elder Miss Bennets were able to be for half an hour by themselves; and Elizabeth instantly availed herself of the opportunity of making many enquiries, which Jane was equally eager to satisfy. For her own part, however, she told very little of her travels and adventures, and nothing at all of Pemberley. Though she longed to unburden herself to her dearest Jane, she knew that it would only add to her sister’s distress. That night, as she was preparing for bed, she held Darcy’s handkerchief in her hand for a long while, thinking back on all her history with him. Then, with a firm resolve, she folded it and carefully tucked it away in the box which held his letter to her from Kent. I cannot allow myself to dwell on these thoughts, she told herself resolutely. Either I shall see him again someday or I shall not, and for now my family needs all my energy and affection.

The whole party was in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet the next morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line from him. His family knew him to be on all common occasions a most negligent and dilatory correspondent, but at such a time, they had hoped for exertion. They were forced to conclude that he had no pleasing intelligence to send, but even of that they would have been glad to be certain. Mr. Gardiner, having only waited for the post, set off for London, promising to write as soon as he knew anything.

Mrs. Bennet, to the relief of her daughters, continued to be in seclusion; Mrs. Gardiner was most valuable in taking turns sitting with her.

On the following afternoon, Elizabeth and her sisters were in the drawing room, working predominantly in silence, when the sound of hoofbeats in front of the house was heard. Kitty immediately rushed to the window—she was having difficulty enduring the restriction to home, and dearly wished to go to Meryton—and said loudly, “Now what is he doing here?”

“Who is it, Kitty?” asked Elizabeth.

“It’s Mr. Bingley!” Kitty cried.

Jane dropped her sewing, the color draining from her face. “It cannot be!” But a moment later they heard his familiar voice greeting the servant at the door. Elizabeth quickly handed her sewing back to her, and by the time he was shown in, a semblance of calm had been restored.

“Why, Mr. Bingley, what a surprise! I thought you still at Pemberley!” Elizabeth greeted him as he was shown in, covering for Jane’s confusion.

“I was indeed, Miss Bennet, but some urgent business called me to Netherfield, and here I am!” His eyes drifted immediately to Jane.

“You must have left Derbyshire soon after I did, then.”

“Just a few days. I have only arrived here today.”

Elizabeth risked a glance at Jane, whose face was still pale, but composed. What could it mean, that he had only just arrived and was already calling at Longbourn, without even the prerequisite call to Netherfield by Mr. Bennet? Surely it must be because of Jane!

“I hope that the business which brings you here is not an unhappy one, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said.

“Ah… Nothing serious, just some… matters of the estate. I… ah… have not truly had a chance to assess the situation yet. I have another task, you see—I was asked to deliver a letter to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, so I thought I had best call here as soon as possible.” This excuse might have been more credible had he not been gazing at Jane the entire time he was speaking.

“A letter for me?” Elizabeth asked, looking far more calm than she felt regarding an unexpected letter from Pemberley so soon after her own departure.

“From Miss Darcy,” said Bingley. “As soon as she heard I was departing for Hertfordshire, she at once decided she must write you.” He handed Elizabeth an envelope.

Jane, still ignorant of Elizabeth’s encounters in Derbyshire, shot her a strange look.

“How lovely. I thank you for the service, sir. You are far more prompt than the post, and more welcome,” Elizabeth said. “But, since you have already come so far, will you not stop with us for a bit of refreshment?”

Bingley beamed. He looked at Jane, noticed the empty seat beside her, and it was decided.

Estate business indeed, Elizabeth thought. Why is he really here? Darcy must have said something to him after their meeting at the inn. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of those moments with Darcy. How shocked Jane would be if she knew! She turned the letter over in her hands, wondering at its contents.

It was fortunate that Jane had by now sufficiently recovered herself to be able to carry on the conversation with Mr. Bingley, since now it was Elizabeth’s turn to be distracted. Mr. Bingley’s smiles at Jane continued unabated until his departure, with many promises to meet again soon. As soon as he was gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits and to find privacy to read her letter.


Dear Miss Bennet,

I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope you do not mind my seizing the opportunity to write to you since Mr. Bingley is traveling to Hertfordshire. My brother had told me that I might write to you if I wished, but I was not sure of the direction, so Mr. Bingley is performing a very useful service!—I hope your sister is better, I was most concerned when my brother told me that she was ill and that you had to go home immediately.—We have been all astir here.—Immediately the day after you departed, Fitzwilliam received news from London and had to leave for there on an urgent basis. Then the very next day, Mr. Bingley announced that he had business that could not wait in Hertfordshire, and would be leaving on the following day, so our party is quite depleted!—I confess that I wondered briefly about this rash of urgent business, especially as I had not known Mr. Bingley to have received any word from Hertfordshire—but I must have been unaware of it. But I realized I had been foolish—had there been any conspiracy, I am sure it would have been my brother who would have gone to Hertfordshire, and Mr. Bingley to London!