Mr Darcy Requests the Pleasure

by Elizabeth Aston

  “May I offer some advice? Tell Mr. Moresby just what you have told me. The truth is always the best course. When he has heard this from your lips, he will understand, he will know he should not have spoken to you as he did.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The whole party went from Pemberley to church on Christmas morning. It was another crisp, clear day, with the remains of frost spangling the hedgerows with gossamer. After the service, several of the gentleman said that they would walk back to Pemberley rather than go in the carriages.

  Elizabeth expressed a desire to join them. She was a keen walker, but she was surprised when Georgiana, who was more of a horsewoman than a walker, said that she would join the foot party too.

  The men soon drew ahead, and Elizabeth and Georgiana spoke about their neighbours, and the sermon they had heard preached, “A mercifully brief one,” said Elizabeth, “although I never mind much with our parson, for he is a man of great good sense and he also manages to put some humour into his sermons. That is rare among clergymen of my acquaintance.”

  Georgiana loved Elizabeth as a sister, but there were some subjects they had never discussed. Now she felt emboldened to ask, “Is it true that the clergyman Lady Catherine is so fond of, the pompous Mr. Collins, first proposed to you?”

  Elizabeth turned to her in some astonishment, “It is perfectly true, although I don’t know how you came to hear of it. Oh, my word, it did cause a great deal of commotion in the Bennet household at the time, I assure you. I turned him down instantly, for what on earth would I have done married to such a man? My mother, who is not always the most sensible of women and not, perhaps, perceiving what an ill-suited couple we should be, was very angry with me. To her at that time, with five daughters to dispose of and none spoken for, I think she felt that any husband was better than none.”

  “You didn’t share her opinion.”

  “Can you imagine me married to Mr. Collins? How miserable we would have made one another; nobody could be more unsuited to be the wife of a clergyman than I.”

  “Soon afterwards, he married your friend, Charlotte Lucas. I know her, of course, and I do like her but I cannot imagine what it must be like to be married to such a man. Was she in love with him?”

  There was quite a long silence, and then Elizabeth said, “I cannot see that it is possible for any woman to be in love with a man like Mr. Collins, to speak frankly. But that is not something you must ever repeat, I know I can trust your sense and discretion. I was truly shocked when Charlotte accepted Mr. Collins, and she did it purely because at eight-and-twenty, a spinster, the alternative to her was more dreadful than marrying Mr. Collins. She had no fortune, you see, and never had any beauty to speak of. She felt this was her last chance of a husband and a home of her own and so she accepted him. And I believe she is not unhappy, she is a sensible woman who has managed to make the necessary allowances for sharing her life with such a man as Mr. Collins.”

  “You had no hesitation, you did not feel that any husband was better than none?”

  “No, I knew myself too well. And I did have the support of my father, who thought it a very good joke. Had he spoken up for Mr. Collins then I would have been in defiance of both my parents and that would be distressing. However, the situation did not arise.”

  Georgiana walked on, her eyes on the ground, grateful to Elizabeth for being so frank. “It is very difficult, this whole business of finding a husband and of marriage.”

  Elizabeth said, “You are wondering about your own marriage, as women mostly do before they go to the altar. It is a big change in a woman’s life, to leave her home and set up in a new establishment with the man she loves.”

  “With the man she loves, yes.”

  “I don’t wish to pry, and I am quite sure you know what you are doing but do you have doubts about Mr. Moresby and your future happiness with him?”

  Georgiana didn’t answer her directly, but said “Mr. Moresby is a man of great probity and uprightness, a man of somewhat stern morality. I feel I do not live up to his high standards.” Then, changing the subject abruptly, she said, “Did my brother ever tell you of what happened some years ago at Ramsgate between me and Mr. Wickham, who is now your brother?”

  “He did, out of necessity. As you must know, Mr. Wickham behaved extremely badly and dishonourably when he ran away with my sister Lydia.”

  “That man is the epitome of dishonour. Lydia did no more than I was going to do.”

  “She did a great deal more. Mr. Wickham would have married you, and had not pressure been brought to bear upon him by Mr. Darcy, he had no intention of marrying Lydia. She had nothing to attract him beyond a pretty face and a lively manners. she had no fortune, unlike you.”

  “I can never forgive myself for what I did at Ramsgate.”

  “You should not be so harsh upon yourself, you did nothing at Ramsgate, fortunately. I do not in the least criticise you, let alone condemn you, for I know how attractive and winning in his ways Mr. Wickham can be.” There was another pause, and then Elizabeth went on, “You will not be aware that there was a time during that year I had first met your brother when I and Mr. Wickham were becoming quite close. I flirted with him; I will confess I found him an extremely attractive man.”

  “But you did not consider eloping with him.?”

  Elizabeth laughed, “Ah, there was no question of that. I had no fortune to tempt him, and he soon stopped paying any attention to me when a young woman who had ten thousand pounds came into the neighbourhood. I realised then that my heart hadn’t been touched, it was no more than a passing fancy. There is nothing wrong in a young woman fancying a man, it is the way of nature. Fortunately we do not all marry the men our first fancy lights upon, and it is only by discovering who is not suitable for us, that we come to find the man who is right for us. As I did with your brother. You cannot imagine two men more dissimilar than Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy, and yet I will confess I did once take much pleasure in Mr. Wickham’s company. I cannot say I do now, and I feel sorry for my sister married to a man like that, almost as sorry as I feel for Charlotte Lucas. It is shocking, is it not, how many examples of unlikely marriages we have around us. Thank goodness for Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, who are indeed a happy couple.”

  “As are you and my brother,” said Georgiana quickly.

  “Yes we are, and I count myself extraordinarily fortunate to have married a man so suited to me in every way.”

  The men, by now some way ahead, had paused and were waiting for the ladies to catch up. Georgiana and Elizabeth quickened their pace, then Elizabeth stopped still and said “Does the disagreement you have clearly had with Mr. Moresby relate in any way to Mr. Wickham and what happened in Ramsgate?”

  Georgiana jumped, “I said nothing of the kind, why do you say that?”

  “I do not mean to intrude upon your private affairs, but it is just a thought that occurred to me.”

  Georgiana hesitated and then said, “If you must know, yes. He has heard a distorted account of what happened, that I actually eloped, although saved from ruin by my brother’s efforts. I do not know how he came to hear the story.”

  “How indeed?” exclaimed Elizabeth. “You must tell this to your brother. Mr. Darcy will speak to Mr. Moresby and tell him the true circumstances. That will then put everything right between you.”

  Georgiana shook her head. “I think at some point my brother should know, but not yet. I am not going to ask him to speak to Mr. Moresby. It is time I stood on my own feet, I cannot be always expecting my brother to get me out of a scrape.” She said no more, but walked quickly on until they joined the gentlemen.

  The group continued up the hill, following a path that ran alongside the spiky outlines of winter trees. This time, the others lingered to observe some feature Mr. Darcy was pointing out, and Georgiana, going on with rapid strides, was soon out of sight. She reached the crest of the hill, slightly breathless, yet exhilarated by the cold air of the bright, clear day.

 
She went into the copse of trees, where there was an ancient circle of stones. Georgiana had always considered this a magical place and now she stood motionless, looking out over the landscape, mile after mile of hills and trees, her eyes drifting over meadows and ploughed fields, nestling hamlets, a church spire cockerel glinting in the sunlight. She took a deep breath, inhaling the sense of freedom that she so much valued. And a thought came sneaking into her mind: would that freedom be stifled by her marriage to Mr. Moresby?

  She let the thought slide away. Life was always a compromise, a matter of exchanging one good for another. She had agreed to marry Mr. Moresby wholeheartedly. No, she did not feel the passion for him that Mr. Wickham, however briefly, had aroused in her, but she didn’t want to. Trust and the certainty of the affection of a man with a proper moral sense were much more likely to make for a happy and successful union.

  The others came into the copse, laughing and exclaiming, praising the view and discussing whether the circle of stones was Druidical or not. Colonel Hawkins walked across to her and smiled down at her. Her heart turned over and back came the slithering thoughts, the doubts about her future.

  And back came her determination to put things right between her and Mr. Moresby.

  She nodded at the colonel, not returning his smile. Then she went over to Mr. Moresby, who was standing apart, and touched his arm to gain his attention. He turned to her, his face severe.

  A moment’s hesitation, was this the right thing to do? Yes. “Walk ahead with me, if you will, Mr. Moresby. There is something I wish to tell you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Colonel Hawkins, walking with Darcy and Elizabeth, watched Georgina she went ahead with Moresby. Snatches of what appeared to be a one-sided conversation wafted back to him on the still air.

  Elizabeth said, “I wonder what Georgiana has to say to him. He upset her yesterday and they have avoided one another since then.”

  “I noticed that. What did she say to you while you were walking, did she touch upon the subject of Mr. Moresby?” Mr. Darcy said. “Or was it an entirely private conversation? I have no wish to pry.”

  “She mentioned there has been a misunderstanding between them, it has to do with something that happened in the past.”

  “You need not be so discreet, Mrs. Darcy,” Colonel Hawkins said, “Georgiana told me what happened at Ramsgate between her and Mr. Wickham. I assume it is that incident to which you refer. She also confided that Mr. Moresby had found out about it and taken her to task over it.”

  Darcy was thunderstruck. “Moresby heard about that? And Georgiana told you about it? To my certain knowledge, she has never mentioned that incident from that day to this, not to another living soul. This is altogether extraordinary. How did Mr. Moresby come to hear about it?”

  “She asked him, but he would not reveal his source.”

  “And Mr. Moresby took Georgiana to task for it? I dare say he did, but he should not have done so. It was distressing for Georgiana at the time and I fear has had a lasting effect upon her relationships with the opposite sex, but in the eyes of the world it is not anything that should cause Moresby to berate her. Perhaps he did not quite understand what the situation was.”

  “I think you may be right,” Colonel Hawkins said. “I believe he was told an elopement actually took place and only your timely arrival saved Georgiana from ruin.”

  “Ruin, indeed! Georgiana did not leave her lodgings, nor the care of the wretched Mrs. Younge, which puts her right in the eyes of the world, although it in no way excuses Mrs. Younge’s disgraceful behaviour. No, Georgiana has nothing to reproach herself with as far as her reputation is concerned. The damage done was at a deeper level. It is made her very reluctant to trust any man.”

  “It is too bad,” cried Elizabeth. “She has found a man whom she thinks is trustworthy and with whom she feels safe, which is so important to her, and now he turns on her with his accusations.”

  “Damn Wickham, what a heap of trouble that man has caused, one way and another,” Mr. Darcy said.

  “Do you believe he betrayed Georgiana’s secret, spoke of this to Moresby?” Elizabeth said.

  “No, no chance of it,” said Mr. Darcy. “Wickham is capable of all kinds of folly, but he is not so stupid as that. He knows if he ever so much lets out a hint of that affair, I will ruin him, whatever his connection to me.”

  “Georgiana has too acute a conscience, and perhaps because this was never spoken of, it has troubled her more than you were aware of,” Elizabeth said.

  Darcy's mind was off on another train of thought. “Moresby is not the right man for her. I gave my consent reluctantly and now these last couple of days I have come to the conclusion that they will not be happy together.”

  “There is no way that you can tell her that. She is almost as obstinate as you, my dear, and it would be fatal to try and dissuade her from this match. And yet, I agree with you, I do not see that it will have a happy outcome. Mr. Moresby is, as everyone agrees, a good man, but he is also a dull man and morality can turn in a trice to priggishness. Georgiana could never be happy married to a prig, not for all the safety of the world.”

  “I am only sorry you didn't take the opportunity to come to Pemberley a couple of years back, Hawkins,” Mr. Darcy said. “I invited you, I thought then that you and Georgiana might. .. Well, never mind.”

  “The announcement has not been made public,” Elizabeth said.

  “That is not the point,” Darcy said. “Georgiana has accepted him, she has given her word and to turn her back on it now would be to jilt him. That will be how she thinks.”

  “So he will cast her aside, in a fit of morality, and she will be shattered by it and I fear remain a spinster for the rest of her days,” Elizabeth said. “What a tragedy.”

  “I could not have offered for your sister, had I come to Pemberley and had we formed an attachment, Darcy,” Colonel Hawkins said. “Georgiana has a considerable portion. As an army officer with only a small private income it would have been an unequal match; while there are men hanging out for a rich wife, I am not one of them.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Georgiana was in pensive mood as she came down into the hall, where a troop of little children were romping and playing tag amid the greenery. The Yule log was burning well in the fireplace, sending out a warm glow from its flames. Louise Bingley came dancing up to her. ‘You look sad, why are you sad? You can’t be sad at Christmas!”

  “I’m not sad. Look, here are candles which we can place in these holly wreaths, shall you help me?”

  The children’s joy and excitement was infectious. The oppression of spirits which had unaccountably assailed Georgiana since her conversation and reconciliation with Mr. Moresby began to lift. And what reason had she to be sombre? Everything had been put right, everything was just as it should be. “Louise, we need more candles here. Then I will light them with a taper, no, you may not do so, fire is dangerous for little girls.”

  “Shall we sing to you? We have learned a carol, will you play for us? See, they’ve brought a pianoforte in here, that is because there is to be dancing after dinner, and I am allowed to stay up for that and all the fun.”

  Georgiana went to the instrument and sat down. The children shoved and pushed themselves into an uneven line, and at a chord and nod from Georgiana launched into their carol: “I saw three ships come sailing in, come sailing in, come sailing in…”

  Caught up in the music and the singing, Georgiana didn’t notice Mr. Darcy come into the hall. The children did, looked at his face of and let their voices dwindle into silence.

  “Run along, young ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Darcy said to them. “Go to the kitchens, where you may have mince pies.”

  They tumbled out of the hall and Georgiana rose from the piano stool. “Why did you stop them, they were singing so charmingly?”

  “Come into the library, Georgiana, we will not be interrupted there.”

  Mr. Darcy led the way to his
library. He beckoned a footman and said to him, “Do not admit anyone in here for the time being, Thomas.”

  Georgiana, puzzled, walked in to the library. She stopped short as she saw Mr. Moresby, grave, frowning, not at all the amiable man she had parted with a little while ago. “What is this?” she said. “Why do you look so angry, Mr. Moresby?”

  “Mr. Moresby demands to speak to you in my presence. What is it, Moresby, that you wish to say to my sister?”

  Mr. Moresby spoke in a cold voice that sent tremors down Georgiana’s back. She had seen him in a dark mood, but never like this. “I have asked Mr. Darcy to remain, to learn how you deceived me, and to take his share of blame for that deceit. He should not have kept the truth from me. I am a man of honour, a moral man. I was prepared to overlook your sister's lapse, Mr. Darcy, but I will not tolerate being lied to, nor do I consider that the severity of her sin, for that is what it is, can easily be overlooked.”

  Georgiana's hands flew to her mouth and she looked at Moresby, aghast. “Why, what is this? What are you saying? Sin?”

  “Miss Darcy, this afternoon you gave me an account of what occurred at Ramsgate when you were fifteen. I believed you. I now have had the whole truth of the affair, that there was a great deal more to it than you admitted to me.”

  Georgiana could not believe her ears. Fury welled up in her and she stepped forward to stand defiantly before him. “How dare you say this? I told you the truth this afternoon. I do not know what somebody has been saying to you, I am in a state of bewilderment as to what is going on. This is like a nightmare from which I cannot awake. What I proposed to do at Ramsgate was wrong, I should not have consented to elope with Mr. Wickham. I did not do so, the intent was there but it did not happen. You accepted the truth of what I told you. If you now find it impossible to believe, then what do you believe?”