“I will request our outerwear be brought to us and the carriage pulled around. Might we drop you off at your club before we call on our friends?” Emilia asked her brother.
Being the superb tactician that he was, and reaffirming that discretion was the better part of valour, Richard promptly replied, “I believe that quite the prudent plan, my dear, clever sister.”
Alice snorted. “It is less a mark of cleverness than it is a matter of survival.”
A short time later as they entered the carriage, they all smiled privately, for not only was their dear cousin to be married, but they had, not mere juicy gossip, but the finest hard intelligence of the year!
*****
Darcy Carriage, London outskirts
1 pm
On the ride to Hertfordshire, Darcy’s apprehension became apparent to his sister.
Georgiana placed her hand on his arm, pulling his gaze from the scenery out the window, and asked, “William, are you well?”
“Very.”
“Truly? To me, I would call your expression anxious or nervous, but I have never known you to harbour such feelings.”
“I only worry for you, dear. You are certain you will be content without Mrs. Annesley until she recovers?” Georgiana’s companion had become ill overnight.
“Certainly.” She grinned from ear to ear, a sight Darcy had not seen in many months. “I shall soon be in the company of five young ladies! Can you tell me about them?”
Bingley broke in with a grin, “Better to not ask him about some of the Bennets, Georgiana.”
“Why ever not?”
“He does not approve of most of them, save Miss Bennet and his Miss Elizabeth.”
Georgiana cast confused eyes upon her brother. “Is this true? Why would you disapprove?”
Before Darcy could reply, his friend answered for him. “He considers Mrs. Bennet and the younger daughters to be silly and vulgar, and believes that even Mr. Bennet can act imprudently.”
Georgiana scoffed, “Methinks he doth protest too much! Can they be worse than our Aunt Catherine? How many times has she attempted to put you into a compromising position with Anne? And can Mr. Bennet hold his drink or does he turn into a nonsensical lout like the Earl? And let us not forget the Judge…”
“Enough, Georgiana.” Darcy’s tone effectively silenced his sister and Bingley.
Georgiana pulled out a book. Bingley began to feel the effects of his recent habits and fell asleep. Darcy turned his attention to his letter from Elizabeth.
Darcy finally allowed himself time to ponder Elizabeth’s letter. He was quite certain it was sent without her reading his, and some of the smears indicated she did not write with ease of mind. There was a large blot next to her declaration of love, as though she wrote unawares and was startled by the revelation herself. It did not appear a final copy, neither were the directions clear. While this puzzled him greatly, he chose not to waste time on what he knew he could not answer.
Instead, he considered her feelings. She had every reason to dislike him. Whereas he recalled their debates—and he was firm in calling them so—at Netherfield as almost flirtatious, Elizabeth found only fault. The very conversations that showed her intellect and wit, which deepened his attachment, must have served to confirm her suspicions against his character.
He realized his manners, from the beginning, must have given her an impression of arrogance, conceit, and a selfish disdain for the feeling of others, and laid the groundwork for disapprobation. He could only pray that her dislike was not immovable and he could earn her esteem. He had very little hope. He doubted the love she felt for him, against her reason, was hearty enough to withstand the added insult his letter gave.
Darcy knew that he found it difficult to socialise in new company given his shyness, but he also knew it was often misinterpreted for arrogance, due to his prestige, and that he frequently gave offence. While he did not avoid conversing out of arrogance, he did not care if his reticence offended those around him. Elizabeth’s accusations were formed on mistaken premises, but his behaviour warranted the reproof.
The fact was, he had disapproved of the behaviour of the Bennets, amongst other Hertfordshire society, and did not care to make himself agreeable. Georgiana’s words were correct: his own family scarcely behaved better. He winced again as he thought of his letter. Darcy fervently prayed Elizabeth had never read it, and that Mr. Bennet alone knew of it. While it would do no good for him in the eyes of Mr. Bennet, at least Elizabeth would never have read his arrogant feelings on the idea of their match. That I write of love in one sentence and call her unworthy in the next!
After some time his thoughts turned on a different course. Elizabeth was not likely to be alone in her disapproval of his behaviour. Mr. Bennet was not known to be overly cautious with his family’s reputation, nor diligent in his affairs. If Mr. Bennet managed to keep Darcy’s letter a secret, there would be no imperative to marry to avoid scandal. Darcy had, several hours earlier, realized he would do all in his power to marry Elizabeth, scandal or not. But if Mr. Bennet disliked him, or even knew of Elizabeth’s dislike, then he might very well refuse Darcy’s suit, especially if he felt insulted by the contents of Darcy’s letter, feelings that were only natural and just. The express he received from Mr. Bennet had been less than explicit.
The knotting sensation in his stomach grew when he recalled he had only managed to complicate matters when he planned to minimize any possibility of scandal by sending letters to his uncle and his solicitor announcing he had been engaged for weeks. How presumptuous of me!
His foreboding increased when he recalled he was missing a dinner at the Earl's house, and Lady Catherine was to be in attendance. Not only would she be incensed by his revelation, it meant Richard would be dining in the house; he was a snoop and a gossip outright. Additionally, the countess and his female cousins would gladly share his news widely! At the moment he was hard-pressed to understand why he had ever been so critical of Mrs Bennet and the gossips of Meryton.
Neither Mr. Bennet nor Elizabeth was likely to be pleased with his actions. He knew not whether to race towards Longbourn and demand his bride, or to slow in an effort to forestall the confrontation.
Chapter Four
Longbourn
1:00 pm
After some passage of time, Elizabeth determined she could not hide in her room all day. Hearing her on the stairs, Mr. Bennet called her into his study.
“Elizabeth, I have an express from Mr. Darcy, and it was certainly sent before he ever received mine.”
She chewed her bottom lip to hide her anxiousness while her father continued. “He writes he will arrive this afternoon and must speak with me on a matter of great importance. I believe he will offer to marry you, after all.”
“Let us not insist…” she desperately wished to marry him, but not if their marriage would harm him in some way; not if it was only out of duty. That was no basis for a marriage built on mutual respect.
“I must tell you if the letters are known to exist and it is presumed you are engaged, I will have to demand it of his honour, for your sisters’ sake. You are being too missish now. You said you loved him.”
“I do! But...”
“You read his letter, so you have seen our reports of his character were false. He is honourable. It will all be settled.”
She was shooed from the room and did not doubt her father’s words. She had come to believe highly in Darcy’s honour. He would offer to marry her even if her own words killed his love, but the thought was bittersweet. If only she had seen his true worth earlier and had not been so blinded by prejudice and wounded vanity!
With such disheartened thoughts Elizabeth entered the drawing room, and soon thereafter Mr. Wickham and some other officers entered to call on the ladies. He began his familiar complaints about Darcy, but Elizabeth could not stand for it.
“I wonder, Mr. Wickham, that you were not able to find another parish.”
He shifted his
eyes uncomfortably and paused before answering. “My only contacts were through Darcy, and his malice was so strong he would not see me settled anywhere.”
“Surely he cannot have such power over the entire kingdom, sir. Perhaps when my ordained cousin, Mr. Collins, returns in a few days he might have a recommendation for you.”
Mr. Wickham winced, and Elizabeth continued. “I only thought, sir, it would be a shame for you to waste your education and what must assuredly be a vocation for you. If you have the opportunity to give sermons and get some part of your just due—after all a clergyman earns more than a militia officer—then it must be worth any pain to your pride.”
He gave her a glare at the reminder of his income.
“For you would have spent three years studying for ordination and two years since awaiting orders somewhere, I believe.”
Mr. Wickham’s friend, Captain Denny, perked up then. “Ordination? I know I met you three years ago when you lived at Lincoln’s Inn.” Wickham stomped on his friend’s foot. The following exclamation of pain brought the notice of the room.
He attempted to explain as all eyes focused on him, but sounded unconvincing. “Darcy had made it plain at his father’s death, just as I was finishing at Cambridge, that he would deny me the living. I sought to study the law instead.”
Elizabeth hid her smirk at how fast his story changed. “That would have been a very great thing for you, indeed! But whatever happened? How could you afford it in the first place?”
“I was given a bequest of one thousand pounds.”
“I am glad to hear Mr. Darcy was not so hateful after all, to not give you anything from the will and that you were able to study. Such a sum must have covered all your costs.” One thousand pounds to study the law was just sufficient but an additional three thousand pounds was more than enough for educational and reasonable societal pursuits alike.
“There is that…but the living ought to have been mine.” He clearly chose not to address the fact that apparently he did not face the bar and could only blame it on his poor understanding or running low on funds and not finishing his education.
“I rather recall you mentioning it could be treated as conditional only, as Mr. Darcy claimed you rather extravagant.”
She paused, and Mr. Wickham gaped, searching for something to say.
“But then, we cannot think so generously of Mr. Darcy. Instead, let us consider the good fortune his father bestowed upon you by ensuring with every lawful means you received the one thousand pounds, to give you such a start in life.”
“Yes, I will forever be grateful for the kindness of the father.”
“It does you credit that you have not forgot him.”
Elizabeth gave Mr. Wickham a knowing look, and she could tell he understood her perfectly. Not many weeks ago he had vowed to never say a negative word of Darcy unless he could forget the good of his father.
Having heard the officers from his library, Mr. Bennet came and sat with them. Elizabeth cast worried looks to him, and soon he pointedly engaged in monopolizing Wickham’s time exclusively for the remainder of the call. Lydia seemed displeased, but was easily consoled with attention from others.
When they had left, Elizabeth followed her father into the library.
“In light of Mr. Darcy’s information on Mr. Wickham, what do you plan to do?” He did not look up from his book.
“Plan to do?”
“He is a rake and a gamester, surely a threat to our community.”
At his silence, she persevered. “Please, Papa. I was so mistaken in Mr. Darcy’s character and so willingly spoke against him even more so in the last week. Please, some redress is the least I can do.”
Mr. Bennet sighed and finally focused on his daughter. “What would you have me do? Mr. Darcy did not authorize us, or I should say you, to say anything about Wickham –if he even meant to send that letter at all. He left the area without concern for us, surely he must consider Wickham no great threat to us.”
“Perhaps...but he also had no connections in the area. It would be quite impertinent for him to tell the area’s residents how to protect themselves from such an unworthy man. Nor could he say anything on Mr. Wickham’s dalliances without risking too much about his sister. The whole area is very prejudiced towards him. It would be the death of half the good people of Meryton to find out that Wickham is a cad from Mr. Darcy’s own mouth. Yet, you they may believe.”
Her father groaned, and Elizabeth hastily spoke. “You need not be direct, after all you have no information of your own, but you are clever and well-respected. You can plant the seeds of doubt. How much is he spending, and how much does he earn? Is he known to treat the ladies respectably? Use his words against him. Why, only a moment ago I found many holes in his story about Mr. Darcy denying him the living with only a few simple questions!”
“Did you now?” he asked with pride.
Elizabeth smiled, “Indeed! I cannot think of how foolish I was to fall for it in the first place. If he were prepared for ordination then he would have done the necessary studies and been able to find work somewhere. If he did not study then what did he do between his godfather’s death and the time when the living fell vacant, and how could he expect Mr. Darcy to give him the living unqualified?”
“Quite right.”
“After a friend gave him away he declared that he realized upon graduation from university that Mr. Darcy never intended to give him the living, and so he chose to study law instead.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyebrows shot up in silent query, and his daughter continued. “Of course, how could a penniless steward’s son afford that in the first place? He confessed to receiving a bequest of one thousand pounds, which ought to have been sufficient to study. I did not bait him further by asking him why he was not a lawyer, or telling him I knew of the additional three thousand pounds Mr. Darcy gave him, but I did subtly remind him of his declaration to me weeks ago, that he would not besmirch the Darcy name out of loving memory for his godfather.
“So you see, we just need to make some statements like so, and he will lose all credibility. Hopefully the merchants will not extend him so much credit that they are hurt when he leaves the area, and when others know he is not to be entirely honourable, they will hopefully defend their daughters.”
“You might be correct.” He paused for a minute. “And we have a special advocate amongst us.”
Understanding him, Elizabeth suppressed a chuckle. “Do you think Mamma would like to visit my Aunt Phillips?”
Mr. Bennet laughed heartily.
“What is so amusing?”
“I certainly do know she desires to visit your aunt and tell her all about your supposed engagement as she saw your letter.”
Elizabeth gasped.
“She only saw the opening declaration and then skipped to find the name of the author before shrieking in hysterics. She knows nothing of his other words.” Elizabeth’s cheeks burned scarlet. “I am uncertain we can hope she will not spread it abroad, but perhaps if we distract her with discounting Wickham in an effort to raise the community’s opinion of Mr. Darcy that will work for the afternoon. After all, he may be as ‘good as a Lord’ as she put it, but she would certainly want you to be the envy of the county and not just for his riches.”
“Papa, he may not offer for me and there may be no need otherwise...”
“Fine, fine. Have it your way, but I find it excessively amusing that we may rid the county of Wickham and save your Mr. Darcy’s reputation through the silliness of your mother.”
He meant it as a jest, but Elizabeth could not help but recall Darcy’s rather just accusations of the impropriety of her family and blushed again. “As useful as that trait will be in this case, you must see it is not always so. My mother means well but can do material harm to our credit, especially as my youngest sisters are allowed to go unchecked. I cannot but think that if he had not so despised our family’s behaviour he might not have counselled Mr. Bingley on leaving th
e area. Even if they both believed Jane indifferent, her affections might have been won or even deemed bearable if not accompanied by such vulgar relations. No, it was not her modesty which is to blame, but the actions of her own family, myself included.”
“Such squeamish youths.”
“Squeamish! Men of sense do not want to be connected to a family prone to disaster. Were we not just speaking of the misfortunes that could befall a lady who accepts Mr. Wickham’s attentions? Do you really believe your daughters somehow immune from such charms? And not just him, but any man willing enough to give them the attention and affection they find lacking elsewhere?”
Suddenly realizing what she implied, she quit speaking. She expected to see her father angry, but instead saw sad acknowledgement, resignation and guilt on his face.
“Forgive me.”
“No, no. I have at last seen that I must be cautious. I will speak with your mother, and we will begin a course of improvement.”
Humbled that he could take her opinion so readily, Elizabeth gazed at her hands. “Thank you.”
“Now, I am certain you will wish to accompany your mother, so round up your sisters while I go and explain to her why we must save your young man’s reputation.”
“Papa, please. No more teasing. You read his letter. His senses were addled. If we can prevent the gossip, then there is no reason for him to marry me. I do this only because it is required of my honour.”
She left the room and did not hear her father mumble, “I recall perfectly well being in love against my will five and twenty years ago, my dear. Make no mistake about it, he does love you and will come and take you away from me.”
*****
Shaking his head from his reverie, Mr. Bennet ascended the stairs to his wife’s chambers. He had barely entered them in the last ten years at least, but it was time to face what he could not change. He knocked on the door and was surprised when she opened it directly.
“Mr. Bennet!” she peered down the hallway as though she expected someone else.
“Fanny, may I come in? We must discuss very serious matters.”
Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology Page 56
