A Convenient Marriage Volume 1

by Meg Osborne

  “I hope my sister is quite well,” she said, glancing towards the door. “Perhaps I ought to go -”

  “I believe I saw Miss Bennet and your mother go after her, and am sure they are more than capable of caring for her as she requires. Although, of course, if you wish...”

  “No,” Mary said, smiling shyly. Her concerns for Elizabeth were still very much present, but she equally did not relish the thought of leaving Colonel Fitzwilliam, particularly when he was being so kind to her.

  “Did I ever tell you of my time at the war, Miss Mary?” he asked, after a moment of silence. “The heat there was unbearable, but not like this.” He waved his fingers as if to illustrate the dry, smoky heat of the Netherfield parlour. “The sun beat down overhead, and the dirt beneath our feet was white, so it bounced the light back and practically blinded a fellow.” He laughed. “Add to that, we would march! Up hill and down, hour after hour, always marching. And dressed in full uniform, with a weapon and pack to carry as well.” He shook his head, with a wry smile. “I cannot tell you how much I do not miss it!”

  Mary’s eyes glittered as she tried to imagine the experience Colonel Fitzwilliam described.

  “Were you not afraid?” she asked. She had not often thought of the war or what life must be like for members of the militia once they were deployed. Her experience of such men was only when they were stationed at Meryton, and she thought them to be loud, ridiculous young peacocks, always focused purely on having fun and flirting with young ladies, whether they wished to be flirted with or not. Colonel Fitzwilliam was not at all like those young men. There was a calmness to his features, a serious glint in his eyes that suggested some real depth of feeling and she found herself longing to know him better. That he seemed content to speak of it merely encouraged her further.

  “Not I!” he said, with a shake of his head. He chuckled. “That is, I was on occasion mildly concerned for my future.” He winked “But I’ll not admit to that again, Miss Mary, for I do not wish your family to think me a coward!”

  “We would never think that!” Mary said, affronted. “Why, I think you brave for choosing such a career in the first place. So many gentlemen wish only stay at home where they might be safe.”

  “So many men are fortunate enough to have such an occupation open to them!” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, with an unreadable expression on his face. “And many men who enter the regiment do not anticipate seeing action. The majority of our time is spent drilling, and waiting.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Such a lack of occupation is not always wise for young men, for they are apt to find themselves in mischief without hearty occupation.”

  “Not if they choose to avoid it,” Mary said. “I do not imagine you would ever find yourself in such a circumstance.”

  “You do me a great honour, Miss Mary, in thinking so well of me. I might remind you we are but a little acquainted and had you ever the misfortune of seeing me often you might change your mind. I can be quite as lazy and bad tempered as any gentleman, although I credit myself with the notion that I do seek to improve.”

  “That is all that can be asked of any of us.”

  “I can hardly imagine you have any need of improvement.”

  This last was murmured so low that Mary was quite sure she had misheard him. When she glanced up at him, she noticed his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made colour rise in her cheeks.

  “Forgive me, I ought not to speak so freely.” He cleared his throat. “Look, here is my cousin to join us by the window. Darcy, how do you fare this evening? I was just boring poor Miss Mary with tales of my life overseas. Come and bring some sanity back with your own tales of Pemberley.”

  Mary felt a flash of annoyance at Mr Darcy, fearing the easy conversation they had been having would be ended with the arrival of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s bad tempered cousin. She was surprised, then, to see his features were not quite as fierce as she expected, and when he spoke his tone was gentle.

  “I hope you, too, are not upset, Miss Mary? Pray, is your sister quite well?”

  “I - I imagine she is,” Mary said, her throat dry. She swallowed and continued speaking. “That is, I hope her to be. I did not want to crowd her with too much attention, but perhaps, if neither you nor Colonel Fitzwilliam mind, I will go and check on her myself.”

  “Please do,” Mr Darcy said. “And do ensure that she is aware of our concern.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Surely you can see how ridiculous the idea is, Mama!”

  “The only thing I can see, Elizabeth, is how little you care for your own family! Do you wish to see us cast out in the street by that man?”

  “Would you rather I marry him?”

  Mary had not gone very far down the corridor before the hushed tones of her sisters and mother reached her ears. At the use of the word marry her step quickened. This could not be true! Surely everyone was happy to think of Jane marrying Mr Bingley? Yet she felt certain it was not Jane’s voice but Elizabeth’s which echoed with frustration.

  “I would rather,” Mrs Bennet began, speaking patiently to a daughter who must be truly stupid not to already see and agree with her point of view. “I would rather you accept your cousin’s proposal and stop bringing shame on the family. Mr Collins is a - a - settled man. He has a home and a profession and one day will inherit Longbourn. If you are his wife there is a chance we may all of us keep our home!”

  Mr Collins? And Elizabeth as his wife? The idea struck Mary as so absurd that she could hardly keep from laughing as she drew closer to the three huddled women. This sound alerted them to her presence and her mother and sisters all looked up to see who approached.

  “Mary!” Elizabeth cried with relief. “Here, you will take my side, I am sure of it. Mama, listen, you cannot disagree with three of your daughters.”

  Mrs Bennet sniffed, as if to indicate she certainly could, and would, if this daughter persisted in the same nonsense as the other two.

  “I must have misunderstood,” Mary began, frowning. “I only came to see what had happened, and to check that you were quite well, Lizzy...”

  “Well?” Elizabeth laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. “Yes, indeed I am well, if you consider my mother's intent to marry me off to a buffoon.”

  Mary’s heart sank. Then it was true?

  “Mr Collins has proposed,” Jane said, in a low, calm voice. “Although why he chose to do it here, of all places, is a mystery.”

  “And in front of everyone!” Lizzy groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I am utterly mortified.”

  “It is Mr Collins who ought to be embarrassed,” Mary said, stoutly. “It was a foolish idea to propose at all, let alone to do it in front of an audience.”

  “Mary!” Mrs Bennet whirled around on her. “And since when have you become an expert on proposals, pray?”

  “I am not,” Mary acknowledged. “But I certainly know enough to think they ought to take place quietly, and with some understanding that the recipient is inclined to accept.” She turned to Lizzy. “Was it very bad?”

  “Awful!” Lizzy said, a slight smile beginning to tug at the edges of her lips. “He talked to me about shelves, and promised that I might choose whatever fabric I desired for a new pair of curtains to celebrate our return to Hunsford as man and wife.” She shook her head, vehemently. “Curtains! As if that were all a woman could wish for in her married life.”

  Mrs Bennet drew her lips together but mercifully said nothing.

  “What did you say?” Mary ventured, eager to learn exactly what had happened.

  “I was too shocked to say very much of anything!” Lizzy said. “I merely begged him not to say any more, and he ignored me, so when he took a breath to compose himself before mounting a second argument - for his first was met with silence, I can assure you - I pulled my hand free, and fled.” The absurdity of the event struck Elizabeth, and her smile returned. “Poor Mr Collins. But honestly, it is rather a ridiculous notion, our marrying at all. And to a
sk me here! Now!” She shook her head.

  “I think it demonstrates his courage,” Mrs Bennet said, stoutly. “His courage and the depth of his affection for you, Lizzy. I am sure your refusal has wounded him deeply.”

  “Wounded his pride, perhaps.” Lizzy conceded. “But as he is blessed with so much of it, I am sure it will not be too much of a problem for him.”

  “Elizabeth!” Mrs Bennet was shocked to hear Lizzy's candid words. “I am very unhappy with this turn of affairs. Very unhappy!” She folded her arms across her front, and drooped, like a plant in need of water.

  “And I am sorry for it, Mama, but you cannot expect me to marry such a man.”

  “Such a man will save your family!” Mrs Bennet pressed. “And surely he cannot be so very bad. He is our cousin- “

  “Who we hardly knew of before his arrival this winter!”

  “But -”

  Mary watched her mother’s forehead crease into a frown of concentration. She could tell her mother was busily scheming, trying to find some angle with which she could appeal to Lizzy’s better nature and somehow convince her to change her position. It will not work, Mama, she tried to communicate in silence. Lizzy is too strong, too forthright to ever agree to such a match. She did not permit herself to think how disappointed she was that her mother would pursue the idea, knowing how much her eldest daughter despaired of it. Would she truly rather Lizzy be miserable, married to a man she did not respect or even like, simply because it guaranteed the Bennet family’s claim to Longbourn? Mary very much feared she would, and was disappointed to acknowledge her mother’s mercenary nature.

  “You must accept him, Lizzy,” Mrs Bennet began again, relaxing her pose into one of comfort. She reached for her daughter and tried to draw Elizabeth to her in an embrace. “I know it may not be what you may wish for now, but you shall see. People change. Once you are married, you will begin to appreciate Mr Collins all the more. He is - he is a kind man, and that is something even you cannot dispute. Kind, yes, and good. Why, he must be, if he is a curate!” She laughed, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “I am sure, once you come to know him better you will learn still more to care for him, and at last, maybe even love him.”

  “I shall never!” Elizabeth cried, swerving out of her mother's arms. “Mama, I have made my position perfectly clear. How can you try to continue to try to convince me otherwise? I have refused Mr Collins. If he is foolish enough to ask me again, I shall refuse him again. I certainly will never marry the man, no matter what you say to persuade me.”

  “Oh?”

  With one word, Mrs Bennet’s attitude shifted. She straightened, her compassionate smile turning into something that was almost a scowl.

  “Well, if you refuse to marry him, then I certainly cannot ever imagine you marrying anyone. I wash my hands of you, Elizabeth. If you wish to be a poor spinster and miserable all the rest of your days, then you must do as you see fit. Certainly, you do not care one whit for your poor mother, or your sisters, if you will not put their own needs - yes, I use the word needs - above your own desire for perfection. You will soon learn, my headstrong girl, that happiness in marriage is an illusion. A woman must make the best choice she can, and be content. True love is fit only for novels.”

  With a huff, Mrs Bennet pushed past Mary, and returned to the parlour, leaving her three eldest daughters in a state of shocked silence.

  “THERE, NOW,” RICHARD remarked, as the door opened to permit Mrs Bennet. “Their mother returns, so all cannot be so very dreadful.”

  Darcy nodded, and returned, half-heartedly to the comment he had been making.

  “I cannot imagine our aunt delights at your delay.”

  “She does not mind it,” Richard said, with a grin. “For she thinks I will somehow induce you to accompany me.”

  Darcy made a noise somewhere between a cough and a snort that perfectly conveyed his disapproval of this suggestion.

  Richard opened his mouth to speak again, but Mrs Bennet had reached Mr Collins' side and spoke in a stage-whisper pointed enough that it carried to the cousins' ears, and both gentlemen heard it, whether they wished to or not.

  “You must not be discouraged, Mr Collins,” Mrs Bennet whispered. “Many young ladies refuse at first, especially to an offer so sudden and so surprising as yours was to poor Lizzy. Truly, I say to you it is out of her meekness, her good character and the natural shyness befitting a young lady like my daughter that she refused you. You must rally, and try again -”

  Richard felt a flicker of laughter bubble in the back of his throat, and turned away, lest the sound carry. He noticed his cousin's dark eyes were darker still, shooting daggers at the couple who were still in deep discussion of the apparent shyness of Elizabeth Bennet. Richard could not believe Collins gullible enough to buy such an explanation. Elizabeth Bennet did not seem to him the least bit shy: quite the opposite in fact. She knew her own mind and was unafraid of exercising her true and certain will. She would make a dreadful wife for a buffoon such as Collins. Apparently, Darcy shared his opinion, for he spoke again, in a voice so low that Richard had to stoop to catch his words.

  “So he proposed. No wonder Miss Elizabeth felt the need to flee.”

  Richard nodded but said nothing, sure that any sound he might make would jolt Darcy back to full consciousness and prevent him from speaking what was truly on his mind. Instead, he made an impression of staring out of the window into the blackness, allowing his cousin to merely wonder aloud.

  “The idea is absurd, utterly so. I declare I would marry her myself before condemning her to such a match.”

  This remark was so surprising to Richard that his gaze darted back to Darcy and his attempts at immovability were forgotten.

  So my suspicions were correct. Darcy does care for Elizabeth Bennet, at least far more than he might own in his right mind. His offer is a magnanimous one, but I wager it springs from real feeling and not any other sense of duty. My cousin has a good heart but he is no Samaritan, and marriage is far more than any man’s Christian duty.

  Wondering if Darcy was aware he had spoken his thoughts aloud, and thus betrayed himself, Richard weighed his response carefully. Nonchalance was decided to be his best option, and when he spoke it was with a calculated lightness.

  “I do not like the curate’s chances of securing a different answer if he is foolishness to pose the question again.”

  “He is foolish to take his advice from Mrs Bennet, who seems willfully blind to the true nature of her daughter. Meekness? Miss Elizabeth has many admiral qualities, but I could not charge her with shyness if my life depended on it.”

  “She merely wishes to see her daughters married,” Richard said, calmly. “Is that so bad a desire?”

  “She merely wishes to secure her own future,” Darcy responded, his eyes flashing with anger. “Longbourn will go to Collins in the fullness of time, if she can secure him by marriage to one of her own daughters she may keep her home.”

  Richard’s features quirked with good humour.

  “In that, she is not unlike a beloved relative of our own.”

  Darcy glanced up, frowning as he processed his cousin’s words.

  “Aunt Catherine is not a martyr in her desire to match you and Anne. She has her reasons. She has far less interest in my own affairs, but then my fortune is modest indeed, in comparison with Pemberley.”

  “I care little for fortune -”

  “That is because you possess it.” Richard shrugged his shoulders. “I am aware of my own advantages and do not despise the small amount I have accrued through inheritance and my own efforts. It will secure a modest home for myself and my wife, when I secure her.” He smiled, enigmatically, not yet ready to be as open with his cousin as Darcy had unwittingly been with him on the nature of his affections. “On reflection, I rather think I ought to rejoice in the smallness of it, for it allows me to live my life as I see fit. Any more, and so many people would take an interest in my decisions that it might
make life very constraining indeed.”

  “Am I so constrained?” Darcy grumbled.

  “You feel pursued into a marriage you do not desire, and here fate provides you with a simple way out.”

  Richard did not wish to spell the scheme out, when Darcy had made mention of it himself just moments before. He watched his cousin’s face carefully, seeing a light come into his eyes that indicated he understood Richard’s meaning just as well.

  “Really, cousin,” he remarked, with a lift of his chin. “You speak utter nonsense at times. I wager you have had your fill of brandy this evening. Come, let us go and speak to Charles. The poor fellow looks utterly lost in Miss Bennet’s absence. I do not think there will be any more dancing this evening.”

  Richard nodded, and fell into step beside his cousin, content that with but one or two small pushes more, Darcy might be manoeuvred into the position he, Richard, knew he wished to take. It would take some skill to ensure that Darcy did not feel any effort other than his own, for he railed at the thought of manipulation, and Richard did not wish to trick his cousin, even if he felt certain that marriage to Elizabeth Bennet might be the very thing his cousin needed, whether he quite knew it yet or not.

  As for my own heart, Richard thought, with a cursory glance towards the door that Mary had departed through in search of her sister. I will be patient and bide my time. He glanced at Collins as he passed, and a few words from Mrs Bennet reached his ears that made the blood flash in his veins.

  “...and if not Lizzy, well! My dear Mr Collins, I have three younger daughters who would, I am sure, suit you just as well!”

  I might bide my time but must not take too long before I speak. He did not think Mary strong enough to resist the influence of both her cousin and her mother, if she was placed in a corner. And for some reason he could not quite fathom he very much wished her to choose him for himself, and not because he offered her an escape from a worse fate.