If she had never been with child, she would have likely had to live out her days at Longbourn until her father died, and then they would have to go God knows where. Unless one of her sisters managed a decent marriage, all the Bennet women’s future was precarious.
But now, Elizabeth would be with the Gardiners, which would be lovely. Her babe would grow up in a respectable home, a legitimate child, and she would be there, seeing every moment. It was actually a better life, in many ways, than whatever had been taken from her.
This she tried to assure herself, but at night, often, she found herself sobbing into her pillow.
This was not supposed to have happened to her.
She would never have acquiesced to Mr. Wickham, not if she had been awake.
She would cry broken sobs, trying to muffle them so that no one else would hear. She felt as if the world had gone off its axis. This was not the way things were supposed to have happened. She had never, in all her life, thought this would be the way things went for her.
THREE DAYS BEFOREthe Gardiners and Jane were due back, word came that Mr. Bingley was expected back at Netherfield. He had quit the place last year in late November, and it was now almost September, and it was quite a surprise.
When Jane got out of their aunt’s and uncle’s carriage, Kitty was bursting to tell Jane of the news, but Jane did not react to it, for she had quite given up on Mr. Bingley after the chilly reception Jane had gotten from his sister in London last spring. Miss Bingley had clearly not wished her brother to be united in marriage with the Bennet family.
It took some doing to get Mrs. Gardiner to come on a walk. Elizabeth tried to get Jane to come, too, but Jane expressed exhaustion and would have none of it. Elizabeth would tell her later.
Mrs. Gardiner said they would not stay, that they would be going to collect their children, who had stayed with Elizabeth’s other aunt and uncle, the Philips, who lived close by. Originally, when Elizabeth had been going on the trip with them, the children were to have stayed at Longbourn with Jane, but with both Elizabeth and Jane gone, that left only Mary and Kitty to be companions to the children, and the children did not care for Mary, and Kitty was too flighty to be trusted with children, so alternate arrangements had been made.
However, pressing her aunt that it was of utmost importance they speak, Elizabeth got Mrs. Gardiner to come along, and they walked together in the late summer afternoon, on the grounds of Longbourn.
“Heavens, Elizabeth,” said her aunt, “what could possibly be so important?”
“A very bad thing has happened,” said Elizabeth, “and I need your assistance with it desperately.”
Her aunt’s expression changed. “Good Lord, Elizabeth, you have me thinking you’re with child or something.”
Elizabeth felt her face tighten, and tears sprang to her eyes.
Mrs. Gardiner stopped walking, seizing Elizabeth. “That can’t be.”
“He put laudanum in my drink,” said Elizabeth faintly. “I was asleep and I woke up and he was on me.”
“What?” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Who? That man must be strung up.”
“No,” said Elizabeth. “No, no, if I tell, it will mean my babe can never have a chance of legitimacy. I was hoping that you… we could go somewhere, and that I could—”
“Oh, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Gardiner, her voice full of regret. “Would that I could. I am four months gone with our fifth, even now. It is one of the reasons we decided not to go to the Lakes, you see.”
“Oh,” said Elizabeth, her face falling. Well, that would never work. For a moment she thought—twins—but there would be too much of a gap. No one would believe the babies were twins, and it would all be too difficult.
Mrs. Gardiner began to walk again, her expression fierce. “All right, all right, we must think.”
Elizabeth fell into step with her.
“Who have you told?”
“Only you,” said Elizabeth quietly.
“You’ve been keeping this all to yourself? You poor child.” Her aunt reached over and took one of Elizabeth’s hands. She squeezed it. “You poor, poor child. Who was that man?”
Elizabeth’s face twisted. “Mr. Wickham.”
“No,” said her aunt. “But I thought that you were sweet on him.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, not anymore. I think he took that badly.”
Her aunt grimaced. “Oh, I well know that tendency within a certain kind of man. That’s appalling. But I also see why youdon’t wish to say. There is a connection between you. People will not believe that you did not go to him willingly.”