An Arranged Marriage

by Jan Hahn

  "You say that you expected your brother to return last night, Miss Darcy?"

  "Yes, Miss Bingley," she answered, extending the cup and saucer with a slightly shaky hand.

  "Perhaps the storm caused the delay," Mrs. Hurst offered. "The lightning was quite severe at our townhouse."

  "Quite," Caroline Bingley agreed. "The thunder disturbed my slumber several times."

  "I feel certain they spent the night on the road," Georgiana said. "At least I hope they did. I would not have them caught in the rain somewhere without aid."

  Caroline laughed. "Oh, you need not worry, my dear. Your brother is well able to take care of himself. He is so strong and capable. I have not the least fear that he could withstand last night's storm with no harm whatsoever."

  "Yes, I am sure that Wills could make his way, but with his bride, I..."

  Caroline snorted, coughed, and sloshed her tea into the saucer. She quickly placed it on the table and grabbed frantically for a napkin to mop up the liquid dribbling down her chin. "What did you say, Miss Darcy? I must have misunderstood you!"

  "Yes," Mrs. Hurst interjected, casting a horrified glance at her sister, "surely you did not say Mr. Darcy had a bride, my dear, or...did you?"

  Georgiana nodded. "Yes. My brother married yesterday at Hertfordshire."

  Caroline appeared almost in a swoon, her eyes rolled back in her head in a most unappealing manner. She turned to her sister with a frantic look, and Mrs. Hurst took over the conversation. "He married at Hertfordshire, you say? To...uh, anyone we might know?"

  "I do not know whether you are acquainted with her. I have never met her."

  "And...and her name, my dear? Would you happen to know her name?"

  "Elizabeth Bennet."

  Both of Mr. Bingley's sisters now gasped in unison, Caroline grabbing her throat as though she had been shot. Georgiana's eyes grew large as she observed their obvious shock and disbelief. "Do either of you know Miss Bennet?"

  "Yes," Mrs. Hurst answered, recovering somewhat, "a little. We met her sister, Jane, when we were last at Netherfield. Her family has a small estate nearby."

  "What is she like? My brother has told me little, other than he feels certain I shall like her."

  "She is very different from us," Caroline said, having completed her mopping up. "I cannot believe Charles did not tell us of the wedding."

  "I do not know if Wills told your brother. It all happened rather fast."

  "It must have," Mrs. Hurst said, "not to invite us. Mr. Darcy is an intimate friend of ours." Caroline gave her a quizzical look and her sister explained, "That is, of our brother, and, consequently, of us as well. I know my husband thinks highly of him. I truly cannot understand why your brother would not have at least asked Charles to accompany him."

  Caroline's eyebrows shot up as though she had just become privy to a shocking idea. "Surely there was no need for a quick wedding, was there, Miss Darcy?" She and Mrs. Hurst both leaned forward in anticipation.

  "I...I do not know what you mean," Georgiana answered.

  Just then Colonel Fitzwilliam walked into the salon from an adjoining door on the far side of the room. Georgiana rose to greet him as he swept into the room, the shine on his boots less than sparkling, and his cloak heavy with moisture. He kissed her hand and smiled, and it seemed to me that he searched her eyes as though he might determine how she fared.

  "Richard! I am glad to see you!"

  "My sweet Georgie. You must excuse my appearance. Since dawn I rode through mud thicker than pudding. Ah, I see you have guests and I intrude."

  "No, not at all. You remember Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. They are Mr. Bingley's sisters."

  The colonel bowed to each of the ladies. "Yes, of course. I believe we met once before."

  "We did," Mrs. Hurst agreed, "at Lord Dalrymple's ball last winter."

  "Yes, how could I forget? As I recall, your brother was sick with love for some young thing and my cousin and the two of you worked together all evening attempting to convince him to forget her by introducing him to every eligible young woman at the dance. What was it Darcy kept saying? 'There are some very strong objections against the lady, Bingley. Surely, you can do better.' Yes, that was it. I think he felt quite pleased with himself when he succeeded in thwarting Mr. Bingley's plans."

  I felt a flush creep up my neck to my cheeks and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out, "You speak of my sister!" Fortunately, I restrained myself and looking back to see Mr. Darcy still in earnest discussion with the servants, I moved a little closer to the room so that I might have a better view.

  Georgiana offered the colonel a cup of tea, with which he busied himself. He added sugar and cream and stirred the cup with more effort than it seemed to need. Caroline watched him intently. I suspected that she was about to shower him with questions of my marriage and I was soon proven correct.

  "Colonel, we have just heard the most surprising news. Miss Darcy told us that her brother was married yesterday and to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Can this be true?"

  "Ah, yes, most definitely. I, myself, stood up with Darcy and he performed his vows admirably."

  "But this is so sudden. We did not even know they were engaged," Mrs. Hurst said.

  "I believe it was a short betrothal, or at least a rather private one. You may not have heard that Miss Bennet's father passed away some six months ago. That may be why they elected to have a quiet wedding. There was no one in attendance but family."

  Mrs. Hurst continued to sip her tea. Caroline sank back against the cushioned settee, her face falling like a pillow robbed of its feathers. Conversation lagged until Georgiana asked that her cousin provide them with more details of the event. There was not that much to tell, he admitted. The wedding had been brief, the wedding breakfast almost as much so, and the couple had left in a heavy downpour. Darcy had requested that the colonel return to London immediately and take Georgiana to his parents' estate just outside of town. Fitzwilliam had been delayed by the storm and had, at last, taken refuge in a small inn, and then rose at daybreak to reach London before the newly married couple. Since he had traveled by a different route than Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, he assumed they had also spent the night on the road and would arrive soon.

  Just then Mr. Darcy startled me by clearing his throat. Although my eavesdropping was apparent, he did not censure me for it. He indicated the way to the salon and we proceeded therein. Georgiana rose, a picture of surprise on her countenance that turned to pleasure I assumed at the recognition of her brother, for she rushed to his side.

  "Mr. Darcy!" Miss Bingley crowed. Her eyes lit up at his presence, but then narrowed at sight of me.

  "And Miss Bennet," Mrs. Hurst cooed, "we have just heard the news."

  We all spoke in acknowledgement and then Mr. Darcy introduced me to Georgiana. We bowed to each other and I searched for something credible to say. "I am very glad to make your acquaintance."

  "And I, yours," she replied. "I have heard much of you."

  That was another time I could have rolled my eyes, but did not. "I hope you will not hold whatever information you have heard against me, for I know your brother is my severest critic."

  "Oh, no. My brother has not spoken ill of you, but rather praised you. He said you play and sing beautifully."

  "I fear he has exaggerated, needless to say for some mischievous reason known only to him." "My brother never exaggerates. He always tells the absolute truth." There was no mistaking the love and regard in which she held him.

  I did not know what to say, so I changed the subject. "I understand that you love music and play very well."

  "She does," Mrs. Hurst cut in. "My brother says he has never heard anyone play with such spirit as Miss Darcy. Perhaps we may all have opportunity to hear her during your stay in town. But you must tell us of your wedding! Colonel Fitzwilliam has just this very moment informed us of the event." She continued to utter silly, meaningless phrases that I knew to be untrue and then added, "How delightf
ul and yet shocking, Mr. Darcy! When did this happen and how could you have kept it from us? Does Charles know?"

  Before he could reply, she went on, "And where did you marry? Surely, you did not whisk her off to Gretna Green, sir!" How could she ask that when I had just overheard Colonel Fitzwilliam tell them we were married in Hertfordshire?

  "Louisa!" Caroline cried. "How can you even suggest such a thing? Mr. Darcy would never consent to an elopement, even if Miss Bennet would."

  I was seething by that time. "We did not elope. Why ever would you suggest that I should do so?"

  As only she could do, Caroline smiled but did not really smile. "Well, we heard news of your youngest sister and Mr. Wickham. Did they not run off to Scotland to marry this past summer?"

  I felt Mr. Darcy stiffen - I did not even have to look at him - and I heard Georgiana's quick intake of breath. What surprised me was the look of ferocity that descended upon Colonel Fitzwilliam's countenance. Mr. Darcy had told me to look to the colonel for verification of his account of Wickham's misdeeds with Georgiana, but I had never discussed the matter with him. Obviously, he shared his cousin's feelings in the matter and was aghast at the impact of Miss Bingley's words on the young girl. Did not the woman have any idea how she hurt the child? Georgiana sat down on the sofa, her hands trembling. I walked across the room and sat beside my new sister before answering. "You are mistaken, Miss Bingley. Lydia married in London two months ago."

  "My, my, how strange this must be for you, Mr. Darcy," Caroline continued.

  He strode to his sister's side and stood behind the couch, placing one hand on her shoulder. "In what way?" he replied, his tone deadly.

  "Why, you are now brother to the son of your former servant. Shall we look forward to seeing him at Pemberley?"

  I could sense Mr. Darcy's anger, but before he could speak, Colonel Fitzwilliam came to his rescue. "As much as I would love to continue this visit, I am much in need of returning home, and I would suggest we give Mr. and Mrs. Darcy some time to themselves. Georgiana, Mam? looks forward to your visit. Shall I ask the servant to pack your bag?"

  "No," she said quickly, "I shall see to it. If you will excuse me, Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst... Mrs. Darcy."

  "Georgiana," Mr. Darcy began, but she escaped the room before he could say more.

  Caroline and her sister rose and made their farewells; they could hardly do otherwise, since the person they came to visit had just fled from their presence. Mrs. Hurst was effusive in her congratulations and offerings to have us visit at her house in Grosvenor Square, but Caroline did nothing more than nod curtly. Poor Miss Bingley. Her worst nightmare had come true. The man at whom she had literally thrown herself for years was now removed from the marriage market. Little did she know I would have gladly changed places with her.

  As soon as the guests left, Mr. Darcy took the stairs two at a time, heading for his sister's room, I presumed. That left the colonel and me alone together. We had never been at a disadvantage for conversation, but neither of us said much of anything. We spoke of the weather again and of how tedious our journeys, but little else. I wondered if Mr. Darcy had confided in his cousin, had told him of our marriage arrangement, or whether he sensed innately that all was not right between us. I remembered how he had looked upon me at the wedding with an expression of sympathy. I did not want his sympathy. The last thing I desired was pity. I had made this decision to marry and for my own reasons. I would not be the object of anyone's commiseration. Perhaps that is why I acted as I did when we heard Mr. Darcy and Georgiana descend the stairs together. Fitzwilliam left to join them but I lagged behind, remaining in the salon, although I did move toward the door where I could see the three of them talking together.

  Georgiana had forgotten a favourite book and instead of calling a servant, Mr. Darcy ran up the stairs to retrieve it. I could just make out the conversation between Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  "No, Sprout," he said, "it is Darcy's wish that you stay with my parents for at least two weeks and Mother looks forward to your visit. You have always been her favourite, you know, even though I have no idea why." The last words were said in a teasing manner and it was obvious that he was fond of her.

  "But Richard, how will it look to Mrs. Darcy if I run off like this? She will think I do not like her."

  "Little one, you are talking about a newly married couple. They are thinking of no one other than each other right now. She will have plenty of time later to acquaint herself with you. For now, let them have their honeymoon."

  Georgiana blushed and ducked her head. "Oh, Richard, you must think me a silly goose."

  "No, just an innocent one." He smiled and lifted her chin with his forefinger. "Do not turn your head away from me, little cousin. You are much too pretty to hide your face."

  "I pray you do not tease me. You know that I am not innocent...just stupid." She turned away from him and appeared adamant in her refusal to face him, but he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.

  "I do not want to ever hear you say that again, Georgiana. Nothing could be farther from the truth."

  "But Richard, after what happened last year..."

  "That is behind you now, my dear. Far, far behind you." He gathered her into his arms, cradled her head against his chest, and smoothed her blonde curls as he held her close. "If only you could forget that it ever happened."

  "If only it had never happened."

  He held her for some time and finally she lifted her face. "Do not be concerned, Richard. Truly, I shall be well." When she offered him a tentative smile, Fitzwilliam's face broke into a relieved grin and I felt almost embarrassed to be privy to their conversation. There was an intimacy there I knew nothing about and I wondered if Mr. Darcy did. For some reason I felt almost envious. How pleasant it would be to have a protector like Colonel Fitzwilliam, to have someone who cared as much for me.

  At the sound of Mr. Darcy descending the stairs, they looked up; I decided to make my presence known and joined them. I still do not know why I did it, but I tucked my hand into Mr. Darcy's arm as though we were married in all respects. I felt him stiffen and imagined his surprise, but I did not even glance in his direction; instead, I gave my warmest smile to his sister.

  "I look forward to your return, Georgiana. I hope we shall become good friends."

  She curtseyed in reply, but did not echo my sentiment. I could see the wary expression in her eyes and after she and the colonel departed, I felt a great weariness descend upon me. The situation would not be easy. This young girl would not welcome me with any degree of warmth. How could she after learning that I was sister-in-law to Wickham?

  "You may stop the pretense now, Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said, straightening his arm.

  I withdrew my hand with haste, bristling at his cold tone. Did my touch fill him with such distaste that he must rid himself of it at the first chance? Fine. I had no desire to ever touch him again. If he did not appreciate my efforts at presenting the picture of domestic happiness, then I would be all too glad to oblige him. "I am tired, Mr. Darcy. Will you call a servant to show me to my apartment?"

  "I shall take you there. I planned on giving you a tour of the house, but we can defer that until tomorrow."

  He indicated that I should climb the wide staircase and I noted the rich gleam of the highly polished balustrade. It was made of the finest mahogany and the intricately curved spindles complemented the dark wine carpet on the stairs. No wonder he had objected to the rough inn we had been forced to stay in the night before. When a man was accustomed to such splendor, it must be hard to adjust to less. Upon reaching the second floor, he led me down the wide hallway to the second door on the left. Inside was a beautiful spacious bedroom, artfully decorated in blues and greens. I was happy to see it contained four narrow, floor-to-ceiling windows facing the east so that I would awaken to the warmth of the sun. They opened upon a small, verdant garden. The trees were turning red and gold and the hawthorn shrubs sprouted the be
ginnings of red berries. This spot had been designed to please the eye in all seasons with various plantings of flowering bushes.

  "This shall be your room," Mr. Darcy said. "Your maid has unpacked for you, but if you desire anything further, do not hesitate to ring for her. Dinner is served around 8:30, so there should be time for you to rest before then." With a slight bow, he walked out the door, closing it behind him.

  I spent no little time exploring the room. I peeked into the armoires, for there were two; I opened drawers and noted how little space my nightgowns and underclothes occupied. There was ample room for a much better dressed woman to occupy these quarters. I sat on the sofa before the fireplace and leaned against its cushy pillows. From there I moved to the large four-poster bed and was pleased to feel its comforting depth - neither too soft nor too hard. Well, should I expect less from a man of Mr. Darcy's means?

  On the north wall a small writing desk contained two pots of ink, quills and a box of the finest stationery; beside it a door opened to a combination dressing room/bath. I had never before enjoyed the luxury of my own bath and I inspected it with great thoroughness, anticipating the pleasure of a long soak.

  On the south wall, I fingered the small china dogs nestled beneath a vase of autumn's last roses sitting on the bureau. Next to it I saw another large door hooded with ornate cream-coloured molding, which continued around the room, crowned the walls and separated them from the high ceiling. I wondered what further personal extravagance awaited me on the other side and so I promptly turned the brass doorknob.

  What astonishment I felt at the sight before me! Another completely furnished chamber lay before me, as warm and inviting as mine, but in a decidedly darker fashion. Rich chocolate colours mixed with smoky greens covered the walls, furniture, and linens. At first, I drew back, afraid that I had stumbled into someone's bedroom, but since there was an adjoining door to mine I dismissed that idea, believing, instead, that perhaps it was a sort of study or personal library for my use, for two walls were lined with bookshelves filled to capacity. I saw another desk, larger than the first and fitted out with even more writing materials. I delighted in it, and anticipated writing to Jane that very night. The only strange thing about the room was that it contained another bed, a great handsome bed made up with warmth and taste.