Jane and Kitty were staring at Mr. Nesbitt’s latest gift because they were not quite sure what it was they were looking at. It appeared to be a golden-brown stone with a bee in the middle of it.
“It is amber, a fossilized resin,” Mary said, easily identifying the exhibit. “When it was still in its liquid form, it trapped the bee.”
“But why is he sending an insect to Jane?” Kitty asked. This token of Mr. Nesbitt’s regard followed a tin of ginger that he had sent earlier in the week. Apparently, “Ginger” was his mother’s pet name for him.
“Is it not obvious? It is a B as in Bennet.”
“Ah, very good, Mary. I had not thought of that,” Jane said.
“That is because you do not understand Mr. Nesbitt,” Mary said in a harsh voice that caught her sister off guard. “He has been excessively attentive to you, Jane. But he is not very handsome nor does he say all those sweet things young men are supposed to say when courting a lady, so you show no enthusiasm for him.”
“Mary, calm yourself. We did not know what the object was. That is all.”
“No, I will not calm myself because you are just like Lizzy with Mr. Collins. She did not appreciate him either, and he has made Charlotte a fine husband. And you will never love Mr. Nesbitt because you do not recognize his value. But I do. Of course, he would never look at me because I am so very plain, but if he did, I would let him know how fortunate I was to have such a fine man as a suitor.”
“Oh, Mary, you are being ridiculous,” Kitty said. “Mr. Nesbitt invites ridicule because of the gifts he sends. Is Jane supposed to whisper ‘Ginger’ in his ear or to discuss insects stuck in a piece of sap?”
“Resin! It is resin, not sap! There is a difference.”
“Mary, what has brought on this outburst?”
“Your lack of understanding has brought it on. Oh, you think you are able to recognize the value of a man. But if Mr. Bingley, your bright shining star, was so wonderful, why did he quit Netherfield without leaving you so much as a note? And you and Lizzy and Kitty thought so highly of Mr. Wickham, and now everyone in Meryton knows he is not a gentleman, but a seducer.”
“What are you talking about?” Kitty asked anxiously.
“Betsy Egger thought she was pregnant by Mr. Wickham, but then she found out she was not. But it was too late because she had already told her brother, and he is going to go to Brighton to find Mr. Wickham and beat him to within an inch of his life,” and Mary turned on her heels and left the room.
Jane now understood the reason for the harshness of Mary’s words. She was in love with Mr. Nesbitt. It was always Mary who sat with the pair during his visits, and it was Mary who showed an interest in all Mr. Nesbitt had to say. But she would have to talk to her sister later because now she wanted to know why Kitty had blanched when she had heard the news about Mr. Wickham, and she immediately went to her room.
“Kitty, what are you doing?”
“I received a letter from Lydia that I have not answered.”
“What did the letter say?”
“The usual.”
Jane crossed the room and faced her sister. “Kitty, I want to know if Lydia has seen George Wickham.”
“It would be possible as they are both in Brighton.”
“Let me rephrase the question. Do you know if Lydia has had any direct contact with George Wickham?”
“Oh, Jane! It was supposed to be a secret. Lydia wrote that she had had a falling-out with the Forsters, and they were sending her home. But, instead of coming back to Longbourn, she was going to elope with Mr. Wickham.”
“Good God!”
Jane nearly fell down the stairs in her efforts to get to her father as quickly as possible and entered his study without knocking. With his chair facing the window, Jane could see that her father was holding a letter.
“Jane, a post rider has just come with a letter from Colonel Forster.” In a state of total disbelief, he continued, “Apparently, Lydia has gone to Gretna Green with Mr. Wickham.”
It took three days for Jane’s letter to reach Elizabeth at the inn. While Lizzy was riding Sugar in the Peak District, her father had been on the road to London in hopes of finding his youngest daughter. Colonel Forster had come to Longbourn to inform the family that the couple had transferred to a hackney coach at Clapham, which meant they were going to London and not Gretna Green, where such marriages took place.
Because of the lateness of the hour, Lizzy did not read Jane’s letter until the morning. Once she acquainted her aunt and uncle with its alarming contents, Mr. Gardiner left to arrange for the carriage to be brought ’round immediately, and Mrs. Gardiner began packing everything as quickly as possible. Lizzy was writing a note to Mr. Darcy explaining that a family emergency had required their hasty departure when the servant announced him. When he first saw her, he thought she was ill because she was so pale, but then he saw her tear-stained cheeks and he went to her.
“What is the matter? Are you ill? Shall I send for a glass of wine?” Darcy asked. A few short hours ago, he had seen her smiling and happy, and he believed that all barriers to their coming together had been removed. But now something was very wrong. To his mind, the only news that could cause such unhappiness would be news of a death in the family.
“There is nothing the matter with me. I am just distressed by some dreadful news from Longbourn,” and Lizzy burst into tears. Taking her hand in his, he asked her to tell him what was causing her such anguish.
Lizzy did not want to say Wickham’s name because she knew the effect that it had had on Mr. Darcy in Kent, and this time would be no different. When she acquainted him with the particulars of the supposed elopement, he rose from his chair and stepped back as soon as he fully understood what Lydia had done.
“It is absolutely certain?”
“They left Brighton together on Sunday night and were traced almost to London.”
“What has been done to recover her?”
Lizzy shared all that she knew, but with each detail, Mr. Darcy seemed to withdraw further into himself. By the time she had finished, she knew he had already distanced himself from her in his mind, and after expressing his wishes that there might be a happier conclusion than there was at present reason to hope, he was gone. And with him went all of her hopes. There would be no visit by Mr. Darcy to Longbourn nor would he return to Netherfield Park with Mr. Bingley. His objections, so vigorously expressed at the parsonage regarding a union between them, had been validated, and by not making a second offer of marriage, he had escaped being bound to such a family. She had not the smallest hope of a different conclusion, and when her uncle returned to tell Lizzy and his wife that the carriage awaited, she felt as if she had fallen into a pool of despair and that there was no friendly hand to lift her out of it.