by Adams, Alexa
“Yes, Mr. Collins,” she said simply, “I would be honored.”
They smiled at each other with giddy grins before Mr. Collins clasped one of Mary’s hands and kissed it. When Mr. Bennet entered the room he found two changed beings: Mary aglow with delight and Mr. Collins bashful. “It will be a good match,” he thought contentedly before laughing aloud and good naturedly clasping Collins on the shoulder.
Chapter 13
Upon exiting the house, Darcy and Elizabeth could see Jane and Bingley wandering aimlessly near the shrubbery. Despite Mr. Bennet’s request for chaperonage, without a word they agreed to not disrupt the lovers and discretely headed in the opposite direction. Darcy felt all the awkwardness of Mr. Bennet’s maneuvers to get the two alone and, while he was grateful to be so conveniently relieved of the company of most of the Longbourn household, he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t unleashed a matchmaking monster of far greater proportions than Mrs. Bennet. He was equally unsure what, or how much, the man expected him to relay to Elizabeth, but that lady relieved him of the burden of introducing conversation in her ever charming, sympathetic way, “You must excuse me Mr. Darcy, but I fear I am totally distracted. I know not whether to apologize for my cousin’s effusiveness, remark on his uncanny connection to your relation, marvel at my father’s behavior, or resume our interrupted discourse on a certain scoundrel you encountered this morning!”
Darcy, though ashamed of his cowardice, took the easy way out, “It is astonishing to learn that my aunt’s rector is heir to Longbourn. A remarkable coincidence.”
“I must say it begs one to question just what sort of character your esteemed aunt may be – we enjoy Mr. Collins’ company through an accident of kinship; I cannot imagine we would have the pleasure were the relationship voluntary.” Elizabeth, of course, did not know it was in the process of becoming so.
Mr. Darcy smiled, feeling the easiest he had in hours, “My aunt is quite the character, perhaps even equal to your cousin, from what I have seen of him. They must get on famously. Aunt Catherine surely enjoys her domination over such a fawning minion.”
“Our colorful relations aside, Mr. Darcy, I still find my curiosity unsatiated regarding your conference with my father. Indeed it has been inflamed by his subsequently uncharacteristic behavior. I feel as if a plot has been hatched to which I am not privy. Like a spoiled child, I must know all. Will you enlighten me sir?”
Darcy spotted a nearby bench and directed Elizabeth towards it, buying himself a few moments to compose his thoughts. Should he indicate his affections, so recently acknowledged, or just inform her of the details of Wickham’s character? How much of Wickham was he willing to tell her? More than he told her father? He looked at Elizabeth as she calmly waited for him to commence. He knew he could trust this woman and could think of no better way to display his affection than by confiding to her his most tightly held secret.
“Thank you for your patience Miss Bennet,” he began with a steadying breath. “This is difficult for me. George Wickham is a man I have the misfortune to be intimately acquainted with, as he was the son of my father’s steward, a man who was everything he is not. We were raised together, side by side. My father was excessively attentive to George: in gratitude to his father, providing him with a gentleman’s education. When we encountered him amongst your sisters this morning, I knew it was imperative that I prevent him from insinuating himself into your society. He is dangerous, playing the role of a gentleman, but do not be fooled for there is nothing gentlemanly about him.”
He paused but Elizabeth did not speak. Intuitively, she knew that this was only the beginning of his tale; he was clearly composing himself before the revelation of something dreadful. She braced herself for whatever was to come, ignoring the flutter of happiness she experienced when he looked at her so sincerely. He was reaching out to her for support and she refused to fail him.
“I spoke with your father about a particular incident to illustrate Wickham’s untrustworthiness. Last summer I was called upon to prevent his elopement with a fifteen-year-old girl who, God help me, I confess for your ears alone was my very own sister, Georgiana Darcy.”
Elizabeth gasped. Darcy watched a medley of emotions play across her face. Astonishment, outrage, and tenderness all betrayed one decisive fact: she cared deeply for both him and his sister. He knew then that he unequivocally loved her, as sure of the fact as he was trusting of her discretion with this sordid tale. He told her of how he unexpectedly arrived in Ramsgate before the planned elopement and Georgiana had confessed all – of how her companion, Mrs. Young, plotted with Wickham to make the impressionable girl believe herself in love and hide it from her brother. It felt as if he were purging himself of their corruption as he shared this burden with Elizabeth. Unthinkingly, he took her hand.
She squeezed back. It was a reflexive gesture of compassion, born simply from an instinct to comfort. They looked into each other’s eyes as she began to speak, rather rapidly, “How is your sister now? Is she recovered from such an ordeal? What an utter knave! To play upon his benefactor’s daughter, of all people, in such a horrific way, and at such an age!”
Darcy smiled at her indignation; it brought warmth to his soul. Suddenly they became conscious of their clasped hands and dropped them promptly. Both regretted the release the moment after it happened: aware of the lost warmth, an uncomfortable silence ensued. Darcy determinedly gathered himself and replied, “Georgiana was quite shaken, as you can imagine. The incident has increased her natural shyness in public and, in many ways, she is far from recovered. Fortunately, the entire affair remains unknown. I cannot express how thankful I am that I arrived when I did and prevented the worse. I was horribly mistaken in the character of Georgiana’s companion. It was a long time, I assure you, before I found someone I considered a suitable replacement. Georgiana has come far under Mrs. Annesley’s guidance. Her fate is not in Wickham’s hands – I saved her from that wretchedness, at least.”
“What is to be done regarding Wickham?”
“Your sister has unfolded his purpose – to join the militia. I know not where he procured the money to buy a commission but am pleased to be assured he did not follow me here. Truthfully, I probably would rather not know from whence the money springs. Your father will no doubt urge Colonel Forster to keep a tight watch on him and the families in the neighborhood will be warned to keep him beyond arms length from their daughters.”
“Yes my father, that begs another question,” Elizabeth replied. “I hold him in very high esteem, as you know, but he has always been known to be a bit, shall we say, lax in his parenting. This sudden burst of paternal enforcement on his part is quite astounding. Whatever did you say to provoke it?”
Darcy allowed a bashful but playful smile which made Elizabeth’s heart race, “Yet you know not the half of it. I imagine that at this moment he is informing your youngest sisters of his intention to send them to school.”
Elizabeth truly was all amazement. “What a remarkable man this is,” she marveled internally, “who in one hour can so amend my father’s ways!” Imagine school – what a wonderful opportunity! “Longbourn will be quiet indeed,” she speculated aloud. But she was suspicious of Mr. Darcy’s self-satisfied look, “You seem quite proud of this unexpected turn of events, sir.”
He responded seriously, “Indeed I am. I admitted to your father my grave concerns that for men like Wickham, your family provides an enticing temptation.” It was an honest response, as all Darcy’s responses were, but he worried she might take offense at the intimation. She did not, instead noting the implication of such attentive concern on his part, as well as that of the confidential conversation they were having. There was a stubbornness about her that could never bear to be frightened without her courage rising, often in the form of impertinence, to the occasion. She had to know the nature of his feelings for her. “My family certainly is one in which havoc wrecks easily but why do you, Mr. Darcy, take such an active interest in us?”
/> Her chin was tilted at a defiant angle but her heart pounded so violently she feared he must hear it. Hopes she had been terrified to acknowledge churned mercilessly inside her, creating a roaring cacophony, yet all he noticed was the glorious pride she emanated.
“Miss Elizabeth, please excuse me, but though I have struggled in vain my feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire you.”
The words were concise, as his tended to be, and could not be misconstrued, but the look that accompanied them could. There she saw both hope and indecision which she rapidly misinterpreted, smothering the fluttering of her aspirations. He saw the shadow pass across her face with concern as she revealed her deepest fears, “But you cannot act on your feelings because of my unfortunate relations.” Her chin fell; she could hold it up no longer. “I cannot blame you, sir. My mother, my younger sisters, and, sadly, even my father sometimes – they all demonstrate an inexcusable disregard for propriety. A man of your station should not be subjected to such behavior.”
Mr. Darcy almost had the inexcusable urge to laugh, so gleeful did the affection she was unwittingly betraying make him feel. But he constrained himself and instead took her hand, this time with great deliberation. She looked at him in surprise.
“Do you truly think me such a prejudiced man that I cannot bear to be subjected to a bit of folly? In truth, I could wish your family more refined, but then perhaps you would not be who you are. I assure you my affection is sincere and my intentions honorable. I would like permission to call on you that we may have the opportunity to further our friendship, as I now have ardent hope it will prove to be far more than that.”
She smiled again, the spark he adored restored to its rightful place in her eyes, “I would like that, Mr. Darcy.”
--
Mrs. Bennet received her wish and the gentlemen remained for dinner, a raucous affair by any estimation. Jane and Bingley glowed as they announced their intention to wed just after Christmas, while Mrs. Bennet’s brother and sister Gardiner would still be at Longbourn for their annual visit. Though Mrs. Bennet managed to subdue her enthusiasm for this bit of news under her husbands’ admonishing gaze, even Mr. Darcy’s presence at her side could not keep her restrained after the next announcement. For as soon as Mr. Collins felt he had sufficiently gained the company’s attention, he let it be known, in an extraordinary number of words, that Mary had accepted his humble proposal of marriage and Mr. Bennet provided his blessing. Tears welled in Mrs. Bennet’s eyes as she gazed lovingly at her formerly least-regarded daughter, now savior of Longbourn. Mary herself looked positively blooming. Elizabeth felt all the happiness of the moment, having only to wish her mother would be less effusive in her approval. That lady was babbling incoherently to any who would listen about all the wedding details at once, each of Mr. Bennet’s meaningful glances totally lost on her. Darcy granted the lady, quite charitably considering that he was now regarding her in the light of a future mother-in-law, surprising leeway on this occasion. Her excitement, he reasoned, was not unwarranted: if her exclamations of happiness were a bit piercing, her feelings were certainly natural and just. Eventually she heeded her husband and calmed down, soon enough to be able to fully relish Mr. Darcy’s praise of her table.
Generally, despite its volume, Darcy found the celebratory atmosphere that evening pleasing. Kitty and Lydia engaged in less insipid discourse than usual, largely due to the sudden influx of topics. Mr. Collins was thoroughly distracted with his fiancée and never once accosted him on Lady Catherine’s behalf, giving Elizabeth and himself ample opportunity to indulge in the banter that came so easy to them, teasing each other into greater feats of mental gymnastics. The sense of happy domesticity that clung to him as he departed did much to improve his idea of life at Longbourn.
When the Bennets finally retired that eventful day, Mr. Bennet provided his wife with the details of his conversation with Mr. Darcy. He felt exhausted but was thoroughly pleased with himself. So too, obviously, was Mrs. Bennet. Her husband was surprised by how accepting she was of Mr. Darcy’s criticisms of herself, softened though they were in his account, but so dazzled was her already overwrought mind by the imagined grandeur of Pemberley that she readily and amiably agreed to mind her manners at all cost. She had a surprising burst of momentary insight – which her husband had to credit her for, having yet to think on the subject himself – when she said, “Can you imagine it Mr. Bennet? With Jane at Netherfield, Mary at Hunsford, and Kitty and Lydia at school, when Mr. Darcy finally proposes to Lizzy it shall be shockingly quiet here!” She babbled on, something about the lord Lydia would surely someday marry, but Mr. Bennet dwelt on her words. Perhaps he had been too hasty in disposing of his daughters but, when one is on such a streak, velocity does make it rather hard to slow down. His consolation was that should Mr. Darcy fail to come to his senses and sweep Elizabeth away she would be a most welcome companion at Longbourn, once abandoned by all but himself and Mrs. Bennet.
Chapter 14
“I cannot wait to attend school!” Kitty gleefully shared her excitement at breakfast the next morning. “Shall we go to London, Papa? It is simply too exciting!”
“London schools are expensive, Kitty. I need to investigate the matter further. Mr. Darcy suggested several institutions with which he is familiar. One in particular sounds promising, located in Cheshire.”
“Cheshire!” Lydia shrieked. “Where in the world is that! I’m sure I would much rather remain right here. The militia will remain all winter and besides, even then I am already out, full grown: what have I do to with the schoolroom?”
“I should have been thankful for such an opportunity Lydia. Any young lady so fortunate as to have the option of an education is obligated to take advantage of it,” were Mary’s words on the subject, said while smiling at Mr. Collins who, in turn, beamed back approvingly before returning with renewed vigor to his plate.
“Leaving the militia is unfortunate,” Kitty conceded. “Can we not attend in the fall?”
“No,” Mr. Bennet replied firmly, deciding it was kinder to not tease his daughters further, “you shall leave in the New Year. The militia’s movements hold no weight in the matter. There is a school in Bath that would be highly suitable. I am familiar with it by reputation and Mr. Darcy has visited it on behalf of a neighbor. He assures me it is well run and appropriate to our station.”
Kitty nearly leaped from her seat in joy. “Oh Bath! Really?” she cried. This frequently overlooked member of the Bennet family heartily craved variety, a commodity which Hertfordshire was short on. Naturally high spirited, she attached herself to Lydia at an early age, she being the most diverting, for better or worse, of all the sisters. The prospect of Bath was almost too breathtaking for her to tolerate.
“Surely station matters none to me,” Lydia grumbled. “Once Mr. Darcy marries Lizzy no one shall dare look down on us.”
“Lydia!” Elizabeth cried in embarrassment as Mr. Collins choked on his drink. He coughed violently into his napkin in an attempt to recover himself while Mary attended him with concern.
“There shall be no more speculation on that point. Mr. Darcy is a gentleman, has proven himself a good friend to our family, and apparently finds Elizabeth’s company particularly agreeable. No more shall be said on the matter. We owe Mr. Darcy more than to engage in gossip about him.”
“Thank you Papa,” Elizabeth said. Mr. Collins, still red in the face, studied her carefully.
“Yes, Lydia dear,” an unusually quiet Mrs. Bennet contributed in an exaggeratedly sweet tone, “we must be very respectful of Mr. Darcy sensibilities. Please do your utmost to behave perfectly when he visits today. We do not want to scare him off, do we now?” She smiled at her husband, seeking his approval, but he could not bear to bestow it.
“The nephew of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, is expected again today?” Mr. Collins anxiously questioned, his curiosity now thoroughly piqued.
“Oh yes. We expect to
see him quite often,” Mrs. Bennet said complacently, bestowing an indulgent smile on her second daughter.
“Lydia,” Mr. Bennet said directly to her, ignoring his guest’s agitation, “school is a great opportunity for you, a privilege only you and Kitty amongst my children are going to receive. An education will provide you with the refinement to intermingle with the best of society. It is not within my power to give you much in way of a portion,” he said frankly, “but this will certainly raise your marital prospects.”
“I am looking forward to going to school Papa.”
“Yes, you have made yourself quite clear on that point, Kitty. Returning to you now, Lydia, I have a feeling you will find as ample distraction in Bath as you do in the militia. In fact, I shudder to think what kind of mischief you could get up to away from home. Surely this must be a pleasant prospect for you?”
