Page 72 of Roses from Pemberley
“It is not needless if it makes her happy…”
“Nevertheless,” said Richard, “let Mr. Gardiner and me go inside and we shall call you if we need you. However, I just wish to know…how much are you willing to spend to make this marriage come about? Assuming of course that it is necessary.”
Darcy ran his hand through his hair. “I do not know…whatever it takes, I suppose. Although I would prefer to keep it under ten thousand pounds.”
“Ten thousand pounds!” exclaimed Mr. Gardiner. “Would he really expect so much?”
Darcy sighed. “You would think he would have the decency not to but…he is not particularly decent.”
Mr. Gardiner grimaced. “I refuse to spend such an amount on him, despite the fact thatyouare willing to do so. He does, after all, seem rather desperate. And perhaps we can play on that.”
Darcy considered arguing but then thought better of it, realising that Gardiner and Richard might actually have the right of it. Gardiner was an acute businessman, after all, and Richard was more intimidating than Darcy, having the experience of a seasoned soldier. He watched as his companions alighted from the carriage then eventually disappeared into the building.
Half an hour went by, and then an hour. Darcy was actually considering going inside when he eventually saw two figures emerge from the front door. It was Lydia and Gardiner.
They entered the carriage with Lydia weeping, and Gardiner looking grim.
“What happened?” asked Darcy.
“They will marry,” answered Gardiner. “The colonel will have men posted to insure that Wickham does not flee.”
“Of course he will not flee!” cried Lydia. “He loves me and wishes to marry me! Why can you not see that?”
Darcy stared at Lydia Bennet. Tall for her age and so, so young. Naive as well. He realised that nothing he said would undo her preconceived notions of Wickham. Except Wickham himself…in the future. He felt sorry for her but, unlike Georgiana, she was not willing to put aside her affection for him.Poor, deluded girl,he thought to himself.
Presently Richard entered the carriage and looked somberly at Darcy. He did not dare to ask what happenedfor fear of something being said in front of Lydia. Doubtless, Richard would tell him everything soon enough.
They travelled without speaking, as the sound of Lydia’s sobs and disjointed complaints filled the carriage.
“Do you realise, Lydia,” said Gardiner, when he seemed unable to bear it any longer, “that your father had an apoplexy shortly after you left?”
“What do you mean, Uncle?” asked Lydia, whose attention was finally on something other than her perceived sufferings.
“Your father,” said Gardiner deliberately, “lies gravely ill because of an apoplectic fit he had when he found out what you had done. Furthermore, your family’s good name is now in tatters. Do you not feel some remorse, Lydia? Are you even capable of it? Must you only - ever - think of yourself?”
“You are too cruel, Uncle,” wailed Lydia, sobbing more loudly than ever.
Whereupon, Gardiner only sighed and looked out the window.
They arrived at Gracechurch Street and were shown into Gardiner’s study after being briefly introduced to his wife. Darcy was glad to see that she seemed sensible and intelligent.
“Lydia, come with me, please,” she said, putting her arm around the still wailing Lydia.
“But is it true?” asked Lydia. “Is my father truly ill because of me?”
Mrs. Gardiner gave her husband a look of query.
“I told her the truth,” said Gardiner with a shrug. “I felt she needed to know.”
“But will he die because of me?” persisted Lydia.
“Hopefully, he will not,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Come, Lydia, let us get you cleaned up and then to bed...”
She turned away and began to lead Lydia up the stairs.
“I apologise for that,” said Gardiner, once the ladies had left.
“Not at all,” said Darcy.
