Page 32 of A Forced Marriage
"Very well," she murmured, unable to mask the disappointment in her voice.
Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the return of Mrs. Reynolds, who entered the room with a concerned expression. "Is there anything I can do for you, madam?"
Elizabeth shook her head, "No, Mrs. Reynolds, I... I need to write to my family. But thank you."
"Of course, madam," Mrs. Reynolds said gently. "If you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask."
****
Elizabeth spent the earliest part of the night in a state of restless agitation, unable to find any peace. As night deepened, her thoughts continued to torment her, flitting from one distressing notion to another. The rumours that would inevitably spread through Meryton played over and over in her mind. How Miss Bingley and her sister would revel in this new scandal, how they would seize upon it as confirmation of all Mr. Darcy had once insinuated about her family’s lack of propriety at the assembly. What would the people say? How was her mother bearing this calamity? Could their family ever recover from such a blow? Was this fate’s cruel design, or were they simply cursed?
And then there was Darcy. Why had he left so abruptly? Did he feel that the news of Lydia’s folly only confirm his worst suspicions about her family? Had he departed because he could no longer bear to be in the presence of her, a Bennet who he now believed irreparably tainted? Her heart ached with the thought. Oh, foolish Lydia! How could she be so reckless? And Mr. Wickham, how could he do this, knowing full well theimplications? Even if he held Lydia in some affection, why not pursue the honourable course? Surely, even with her father’s disdain for the militia, he might have been persuaded to allow a marriage, given time, instead of this disgraceful elopement.
Her father’s caution about Wickham’s motives echoed in her mind. The, she recalled Mr. Darcy’s words: "Wickham has no regard for the consequences of his actions." Her eyes widened in recognition. What could have transpired between them to elicit such a judgment? Her thoughts returned to Georgiana’s tearful reaction when she had mentioned the elopement to Darcy. At the time, her own emotions had prevented her from dwelling on it, but now her curiosity was piqued. Why had Georgiana cried? Was it mere sympathy, or was there something more? And why had Darcy so hastily sent her away?
There were answers, surely, but from whom could she seek them? Georgiana might know, but Elizabeth hesitated to ask her, not wishing to cause her pain. Darcy himself definitely knew, Elizabeth concluded, but he had offered no explanations and was not even present to be questioned. Elizabeth shook her head at her confusion. She needed to understand, if only to assist her family in finding Wickham. There was, of course, Mrs. Reynolds. After all, servants were often privy to the most intimate details of a household, even if they did not speak of them openly.
Elizabeth’s unrest would not allow her to remain still. After some deliberation, she resolved to seek out Mrs. Reynolds, hoping that the kindly housekeeper might provide some clarity in the midst of her confusion.
She found Mrs. Reynolds in her chambers, and had to wake her up. The older woman looked up, slightly startled by Elizabeth’s sudden appearance. “Mrs. Darcy, is there something you require?” she inquired with a respectful tone.
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Mrs. Reynolds,” she began, “I come not in search of material comforts but in desperate need of answers. As you already know, my youngest sister, Lydia, has eloped with Mr. Wickham, a man whom I once trusted. But now, I am at a loss. I cannot understand why Mr. Darcy and Georgiana reacted so... strangely when I mentioned it, and why Mr. Darcy left so abruptly after hearing the news, asking that his sister be taken to her room. Seeing as you’ve been with the Darcy for so long according to your own words, I was hoping that you will shed more light on this subject that seem to have struck a nerve.”
Mrs. Reynolds looked at Elizabeth with concern, her brows knitting together. “Madam, I fear I am not the one to provide such explanations. Perhaps it would be best to ask Mr. Darcy himself when he returns.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank at the housekeeper’s reluctance. She could not let the matter rest so easily. “Please, Mrs. Reynolds,” she implored, her desperation obvious. “Anything you can tell me could help us find Lydia and Mr. Wickham. You must understand, my marriage to Mr. Darcy was not one born of affection, but rather of necessity to prevent a scandal even though I and Mr. Darcy are both innocent of the accusations. However, I made a sacrifice to secure the futures of my sisters and preserve my family’s honour. Now, with Lydia’s reckless actions, all may be for naught. I beg you, if you know something, anything at all, I must hear it.”
Mrs. Reynolds hesitated, clearly torn between her loyalty to the Darcy family and the genuine distress she saw in Elizabeth’s eyes. Finally, with a sigh, she gestured for Elizabeth to sit, her expression softening.
“Very well, madam,” Mrs. Reynolds began, her voice laced with quiet resignation. “I will tell you what I know, though it is not an easy tale to recount. Mr. Wickham... he was oncea part of this household, having grown up alongside Mr. Darcy as a child. They were like brothers at one time. But as Mr. Wickham grew into manhood, his character did not follow the same honourable path as Mr. Darcy’s. He became a man of low morals, especially where women were concerned.”
Elizabeth listened intently, her heart pounding in her chest as the housekeeper continued.
“You may recall the young maid you noticed on your first morning here,” Mrs. Reynolds said, her tone sombre. “She was one of the many who fell victim to Mr. Wickham’s false charms. He compromised her, madam, and her life has not been the same since. Her prospects of marriage were ruined by his actions, and she now bears the burden of his deceit.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. She had seen the maid’s downcast eyes, her withdrawn demeanour, and now understood the reason behind it. But Mrs. Reynolds was not finished.
“There is more, madam,” Mrs. Reynolds continued, her voice growing softer. “A few years ago, Mr. Wickham attempted to elope with Miss Georgiana. He persuaded her to run away with him, intending to marry her, perhaps for her inheritance. Young Miss Georgiana, innocent and without motherly guidance naively agreed. They were on the verge of boarding a ship bound for Italy when Mr. Darcy discovered their plans and intervened. He rescued Miss Georgiana just in time, sparing her from a fate that would have ruined her life forever. That is why Mr. Darcy harbours such animosity towards Mr. Wickham, and why Miss Georgiana was so distressed at the mention of his name today.”
The weight of Mrs. Reynolds’ words settled heavily upon Elizabeth’s heart. The truth was stark and undeniable, and it cut through the fog of her prejudice with a painful clarity. Mr. Darcy had not been the man she had been led to believe him tobe, nor had Mr. Wickham. Her mind reeled with the realization of how deeply she had misjudged them both.
Inner conflict raged within her as she grappled with the shame of her own misconceptions. She had allowed her prejudice to cloud her judgment, to poison her mind against a man who had acted with honour and integrity, even when it was difficult. How could she have been so blind, so utterly deceived by Wickham’s lies?
Elizabeth rose slowly from her seat, her voice trembling as she spoke. Now that she knew what she wanted to know, she didn’t think it was necessary to affect Mrs. Reynold’s sleep anymore. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. You have been more helpful than I could have ever hoped. I must... I must think on what you have told me.”
Mrs. Reynolds offered her a sympathetic nod. “Take your time, madam. Pemberley is your home now, and we are all here to support you.”
Elizabeth managed a faint smile, though her heart was heavy with guilt and sorrow. She left Mrs. Reynolds’ chambers, her mind awash with thoughts she could scarcely process. How could she ever make amends for the wrongs she had committed, even if only in her own heart? And how could she face Mr. Darcy, knowing now the true nature of his character and the sacrifices he had made for those he loved?
As she walked through the silent halls of Pemberley, Elizabeth resolved that she would find a way to speak with Mr. Darcy when he returned. She would seek his forgiveness, not only for the harsh words she had spoken but for the unspoken judgments she had harboured against him. Perhaps, in doing so, she could begin to make amends for the mistakes of the past and open her heart to the possibility of a future she had never imagined.
Chapter 19
Five days passed at Pemberley, with little for Elizabeth to occupy herself beyond the writing of letters, awaiting replies that were yet to come, and engaging in frequent prayer. She penned her concerns and latest finding to her father and to the Gardiners in London, and to Jane, each letter carrying her anxieties and hopes across the miles that separated them. As the hours stretched into days, all she could do was wait and hope. Every notion she entertained seemed futile. If she went to Longbourn, it would do nothing to ease her mother’s nerves or to soothe her sisters' anxieties, nor could she go to the Gardiners, who, along with her father, were most assuredly engrossed in the search for Lydia and Wickham. The feeling of being of no use in the situation left her feeling quite helpless.
The absence of Mr. Darcy added further to her disquiet. Though he had sent no word, Elizabeth was certain that his departure was not about a disdain for her family, but with the intention of using his connections to assist in resolving the matter. Georgiana had confirmed this suspicion during one of their breakfasts, though neither lady ate much at the table. The thought of Mr. Darcy’s involvement brought her some comfort, though it was tempered by the uncertainty of how he would react at his return. The revelations from Mrs. Reynolds had altered her perspective profoundly, and Elizabeth found herself regarding Mr. Darcy with a newfound admiration. With the veilof prejudice now lifted, she saw him in a different light. Now, Elizabeth thought of him as a man who treated his servants with kindness, who possessed the humility to apologize when in the wrong, and who would go to great lengths to protect those he held dear.
Yet, even as she longed for him from afar, Elizabeth could not suppress the stirrings of impatience within her. Her gratitude for Mr. Darcy's actions contended with a growing desire to speak with him, to clear the misunderstandings between them, and to begin anew. She longed to express to him that she now understood him better, that her former judgments had been clouded by misrepresentations and errors. But with each passing day, the opportunity to do so felt like it receded further from her grasp.
