Do You Love Me

by Laura Moretti

  Consequences were dire. The members of the Intellectual Club were supposed to spend the winter at Pemberley, but soon it became clear those convivial weeks would never be. Mr. and Mrs. Egerton left first, called back to the estate by their very worried steward. “And then there were seven,” announced the Viscount humorously. But two days later Mr. Bingley was less than cheerful when he was forced to depart with his wife. Three of his mills were closing. “I may have lost half of my fortune in a week,” he explained to Darcy, with one of his self-deprecating smiles, “and I wonder if it is not only the beginning.”

  So then there were five – and it was the Viscount’s turn, called away in all haste by his family. They had numerous financial interests in the colonies, but all communication with their associates there was now severed – in fact, it was very possible that most of these lands were not English colonies anymore. Then of their merry group, only Mr. May was left; he announced his departure one beautiful afternoon, walking near the lake in Elizabeth’s company.

  “I am going back to town – the order I thought was canceled was actually confirmed – you know, the Hyde Park painting? It will serve as a gift to the Prince Regent.”

  “I offer you all my congratulations, Mr. May,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “It seems you are the only one to be called away by good news.” They both knew how miraculous it was, in those times, to have such an important patron… but of course, the English royal court would be the last to suffer financial hardships.

  Mr. May turned to her. “You should come with me.”

  She hardly knew how to answer.

  “I am not wealthy,” he continued, “but as you know, I am far from being a pauper either.” Mr. May’s family was involved in the steel business, and he had inherited a sizable sum from his uncle. “If we were married, I could promise you a simple existence – a London apartment, a small income – but it would be an exciting life, I believe. My friends are artists with some very radical ideas. It would not a sophisticated society, but it would be quite a lively one.”

  He stopped talking – Elizabeth hesitated.

  “I… thank you with all my heart, Mr. May, for your very flattering offer,” she finally said. “I am not inclined to matrimony at the moment – if I was, I would have accepted your proposal with joy – I have but the highest esteem for you. And for your work,” she added with sincerity.

  There was a moment of silence; they kept walking.

  “You are a sorry liar,” Mr. May commented at last, with a gentle expression that prevented all offense. “Of course you are inclined to matrimony. You are trapped, like a lot of lovely, single women your age – with no prospects but to become a governess or a companion, in a world where most people will soon be unable to afford such services. Marriage is your only chance. So, what you mean, of course, is that you are not inclined to matrimony with me, which I perfectly respect. But…”

  Mr. May threw a discreet look to the stables – they both knew Darcy had gone to ride this morning. “I am the safe option for you. I know that marrying an artist is generally a risk, but in the present circumstance…” He paused. “You are a romantic, I believe, and as I am one too, I commend you for it. But some dreams are just that, dreams.” He glanced at the direction Darcy had gone, then looked at Elizabeth – to be sure she got his meaning. “And in your case, they could lead to danger.”

  Silence ensued. Mr. May resumed his walk and smiled. “I say this without an inch of modesty – I can be quite charming. You would grow to love me, I believe.”

  “I am sure I would,” Elizabeth said, laughing to hide her embarrassment – she was quite red.

  “Then, consider my proposal. I will be off late tomorrow morning.”

  All night Elizabeth wondered. Eyes opened, watching the ceiling in her small but comfortable bed, in her small but comfortable room – very, very far from the master’s chambers. When she was twenty-one, she had vowed that only the deepest love would induce her to matrimony – but she had changed so much since then… and Mr. May’s offer was objectively tempting. She had loved living in London; Mr. May’s circles of artists and patrons would be very different from Miss Moore’s habitual acquaintances, but equally fascinating, certainly. As a gentleman’s daughter – as a friend of the Bingley’s, the Darcy’s, and the Egerton’s, she would even be able to help her husband’s career – Mr. May was right, she would grow to love him – and…

  She did not accept his offer, and at noon Mr. May was gone.

  ∞∞∞

  And then there were three.

  ∞∞∞

  Mr. Darcy, Georgiana and Elizabeth quickly settled into a sort of routine. They had breakfast together in the morning, then Mr. Darcy spent the day seeing to the affairs of the estate, while Georgiana and Elizabeth did too – visiting the tenants and the villagers, helping, morally and practically, as much as they could in those dark times. Then, the ladies rested and dressed for dinner.

  The evenings were Elizabeth’s favorite. The food was frugal – comparatively – more frugal than it used to be at least – but the three of them conversed, talked, and laughed before retiring to the music room where they read, talked again, or listened to Georgiana’s music. Retreating in their own little haven, where there was nothing but candles, smiles and mutual affection – Elizabeth felt the outside world did not exist – but it did, and as weeks passed, she noticed that Darcy grew somber. One morning, before going out with Georgiana, she knocked on the door of his study.

  “I hope I am not overstepping, sir,” she said after he amiably offered her a chair. “But I have noticed… recently, with the situation getting worse… You seem to be carrying a heavy load on your shoulders,” she explained, a little shyly. “I know you want to protect your sister, but maybe it would help you to… to have somebody to confide in.”

  Darcy looked at her for such a length of time that Elizabeth began to seriously worry that she had, indeed, overreached. She was ready to apologize when he stood up, walked to one side of the room, came back, and announced, simply,

  “I fear I must sell Pemberley.”

  She was aghast. “Surely it has not come to that!”

  Darcy began to pace the study, talking in a low, tense voice.

  “No, not yet, you are correct. But I… I see it coming – I know we will all become desperate – even here at Pemberley, which is more soundly prepared than most estates. But that is why I feel obliged to act, when other landowners do not – they can hope that better management will improve their situation – a false hope. England’s place in the world is changing, and I will not allow my tenants to lose their protection as a result.” He explained what she already knew, that most great estates could not survive on agricultural revenues alone. With the blockade, they were losing even those revenues, with nothing in sight to replace them.

  “The peace will be signed shortly, though,” Elizabeth protested. “Maybe it will not be in our favour, but…”

  “But what comes after? If we purchase peace in exchange for half of our colonies, what will the consequences be? The commercial partners we have lost are already turning elsewhere – they will not return to us. Everybody is waiting for peace – but I believe what will come after will be worse. And what I fear…”

  Darcy stopped, then pulled another chair and sat in front of Elizabeth – he was so very pale. She had the ridiculous thought that if they were married, she could touch him, comfort him, as she desperately wanted to – and perhaps he felt – he almost reached for her hand – then stopped – a harsh, ironic smile played on his face for a swift moment – he stood up and began to pace the room again.

  “What I fear, Miss Bennet, that if I do not make a drastic decision now, then I will be caught in a vicious circle. I will sell a part of the land to keep the finances afloat, but it will not be enough – so I will sell another part, hoping that this time it will save us – but it will not – slowly dismantling the estate, reducing it to nothing – before having to sell the rest anywa
y.”

  Elizabeth nodded. It was a familiar story, one of aristocrats in debt… to imagine it happening to Pemberley was chilling.

  “Whilst if I sell now,” Darcy said, clearly agitated, “the estate is kept intact, and I can negotiate the conditions – keeping the land together, keeping the tenants on their farms, the servants in their places… And right now, with that hasty peace we signed with President Madison… There are many rich men from Boston and New York wanting to purchase respectability.”

  He took a deep breath, then turned to her, anguish in his eyes.

  “So those are my thoughts at three in the morning, when the situation seems desperate. Selling now… I believe it is the best course of action – immediately, before others realize the hopelessness of the situation, before the market is flooded by owners like me and there are no buyers to be found. But then, dawn breaks, and I am seized by the exact opposite thought: What if I make that decision too early, and bitterly regret it? What if I destroy the work of generations by acting too fast – and realize, too late, that the situation was actually salvageable?”

  Elizabeth had never wanted so much, at that moment, to have the right to love him – but such was not the case.

  “So, that is the heavy load you have astutely observed from my countenance,” he concluded. He gave another harsh laugh. “And now, I must apologize. All I have achieved with this confession is to frighten you. I am no closer to a solution.”

  “Oh!” she cried with emotion, standing up, walking as close to him as she dared, “No, indeed, sir, I am glad you have unburdened yourself – living with such a dilemma, without a friend in whom to confide – it must be torture.”

  “The word might be a tad dramatic,” he said with a wan smile. “Let’s just say that I now deeply regret the money spent on the ball. I should have been more prudent.”

  “No, sir, I – I beg your pardon, I have no right to contradict you, of course…”

  This time his laugh was genuine. “But you will anyway, I am sure. Proceed.”

  She laughed too. “Very well, then.” He was looking at her, his eyes suddenly soft. “At the time of the ball,” she continued, “nobody knew – nobody could imagine the situation would deteriorate so quickly. It is as if we all went to sleep that night, drunk on champagne, music and illusions… and woke up in a different world.”

  “That is it exactly,” he said, in a low voice.

  “You were celebrating salvation. All those festivities – throughout the country – were a show of unity. I am just sorry…” She shook her head. “I am sorry there is nothing I can do to help…”

  “There is,” he answered. “I cannot… I am unable to make that terrible decision now, but there are steps I am taking to reduce spending. You could help me negotiate with tenants – women are sometimes the best ambassadors to bad news. And I will be selling all I can, that does not cripple the land. Books. Jewels. Furniture. Perhaps you can help me with the choices.”

  “Of course, Sir. I will.”

  In the following days, Elizabeth helped indeed, and the atmosphere in the great house changed again. Now, Darcy kept Elizabeth apprised of his difficulties and of his efforts to surmount them – Elizabeth became an ally in his endeavors, and Georgiana with her – even though Darcy’s sister did not appreciate the severity of the danger. Soon the two ladies were effective agents of Darcy’s policies… but the tide was rising against them.

  ∞∞∞

  The situation became much worse when the regiment settled at Pemberley.

  ∞∞∞

  At first, the officers were polite, as they should be – an English regiment on English land. They were not an occupational force, as Elizabeth reassured the tenants and the servants – but the situation deteriorated quickly.

  In these times of arduous negotiations for a peace treaty that never seemed to be signed, the English army was inactive. Morale was low, tensions were high. Supporting thousands of frustrated soldiers in the country – and more waiting on European shores – was an enormous financial burden, and one solution was to quarter some of the soldiers on large estates, obligating owners to do their patriotic duty by lodging and feeding them as they could.

  It was an impossible situation, and everybody knew it. As it was, the war and the weather had depleted reserves, and there was hardly enough in the Pemberley granaries to last through the winter and provide the necessary seeds for next year. The four hundred men who were sent to the estate – four hundred mouths more to feed – just exacerbated every justifiable fear. The soldiers ate all the bread. They killed all the beasts. During the first week, the arrangement maintained an official veneer – the officers apologized and gave “receipts” guaranteed by Parliament in lieu of payment. Any protestations were scornfully labeled as unpatriotic.

  Then the receipts disappeared. The soldiers simply took what they wanted.

  The colonel and the highest ranking officers dined with their hosts every day, in Pemberley’s most formal dining room – but there was nothing, during these meals, of the general goodness and congeniality shown by the officers of the militia who had stayed in Meryton, where Elizabeth lived when she was younger. One of the captains was polite but cold; one lieutenant was almost insolent, he behaved as though he were in occupied territory; another officer had a haunted look in his air – he had been in the Peninsula War, before being transferred back home after some pressure from his family.

  Georgiana whispered to Elizabeth one day that she could still see blood and horror in the depths of the man’s eyes. Elizabeth could not but smile at the young girl’s literary use of language, but she had to admit, it felt true enough.

  And the colonel… the colonel was a monster.

  Or maybe there are no monsters, dear reader, and all the bitterness and cruelty Elizabeth perceived in the soldiers was no more than a bitterly cruel situation.

  The English army felt deeply impotent – the militia in particular. Navy men had been slaughtered, but heroically; they had saved England from invasion, and the population worshipped them – or their memories. On European battlefields numerous soldiers had done their duty – and more, much more – but the militia – well, the militia had stayed behind to defend against invaders. No doubt they would have acted just as bravely and sacrificed just as much as their fellows, had such an effort been needed. Fortunately, there had been no such need, and now the men in red felt the brunt of the growing resentment of a population who was just sick of the war. All over the country, soldiers who requisitioned food and cattle were the targets of attacks. They began to feel themselves in enemy territory – so they treated the civilians like enemies, and the anger only grew.

  To add to the difficulties of that situation, Elizabeth soon suspected the colonel to take a sort of discreet, cruel pleasure in being the master – in making requisitions and ordering punishments. He was a third son. He had been sent to the army early, when his eldest brother inherited the estate. There was clearly rancor there, and Elizabeth could feel it at dinner when he spoke to Mr. Darcy – the irony, the bitterness, the relish and glee that the colonel felt as he wielded his power over an illustrious and haughty land owner.

  When a group of soldiers abused a farmer’s daughter – thirteen years old – in the most horrible way, Darcy threatened to call the colonel out in a duel, if he did not make amends – so the colonel reluctantly had one of the lower ranking men flogged. But the others, including a sergeant, went scot free. They were so clearly protected by their superior officers that some even gloated to the girl’s brother when they met him in the fields.

  That lack of consequences – that horrifying taunt – demonstrated how volatile the situation had become. As Mrs. Reynolds – the housekeeper – said, men had always abused their power over women, even in more peaceful times, but an English soldier, acting against an English girl, of a respectable family… Two years ago – six months ago even – the man would have been hanged – and the fact that the culprits were not even punish
ed – it was chilling.

  Georgiana was forbidden to leave the main house without the protection of two armed footmen. She began to take the evening meal in her room, “Surely those precautions are unnecessary, Darcy,” the Colonel protested, with a cold smile. “Our men are not beasts – of course nothing will happen to the genteel girls.”

  Elizabeth had never hated him so much.

  “Such a fine distinction,” commented Darcy with the coldest smile Elizabeth had ever seen on him. The two lieutenants were witnesses to the altercation, as was an ensign, and a dozen servants. “Let me repeat my earlier promise to you, Colonel,” Darcy continued. “If one of your men ever touches any woman of my estate, even the lowest of milkmaids, I will call you out in front of all your men – so you cannot refuse to meet me. And as I am very, very handy with a pistol, thanks to my Eton education, which you were kind enough to comment on a few nights ago, I will put a bullet in your head, before your finger touches the trigger.”