Elizabeth turned to look at him. “Oh, Mr. Wickham,” she said in exasperation,“I do not seek your flattery, your compliments go a little way toward securing my faith in you but such easily bestowed praise does not prove to me your worth. Pretty words cannot persuade me of your good intentions.”
“Then hear not my words but observe my actions and take this promise from me, madam, I will not fail you.”
For some time Elizabeth was taken up by confusion; her brother-in-law seemed genuinely transformed. His intentions, his every look spoke of reform. But to trust him again, though her instincts urged her to, was difficult. How they had all suffered at his hands, how hard it was to keep faith in him, to forget his misconduct.
On each occasion, when she felt a small pang of hope on the matter, she was at once startled by her feelings of resentment, of suspicion. Oh, that he could be as good as he appeared by way of looks and manners. Elizabeth’s frustration consumed her.Why do I worry so when my sister, who should be all taken up with concern, does not? She cursed the complexities of her nature.Too much thought, she concluded, was leading her away from her eventual goal of forgiveness. Other distractions were her relief, her child, of course, was her prize and furthermore her thoughts could not long be occupied solely by Wickham for she had other happy news to dwell on. She soon found her spirits lifted at the pleasing prospect of meeting Lady Metcalfe. This surprising, refreshing woman had accompanied her guests back to Pemberley.
At once Elizabeth wondered how Harriet Metcalfe had maintained so long an acquaintance with Lady Catherine when the two were so opposed in character. On the evening of the party’s return from London a splendid dinner was arranged, the conversation was lively and by the time they had repaired to the drawing room Elizabeth was better able to witness Lady Metcalfe in full flow. She, Lady Metcalfe, was taking coffee by the fire and summoned Darcy to her side gesturing with her fan for him to join her.
“My daughter Cressida will be away at school in two years, Mr. Darcy. Let me insist, that you have Miss Pope for young Fitzwilliam. She is as good a governess as I could have wished for.Your aunt recommended her to me and I have never had a moment’s complaint, Cressida’s mastery of French has improved considerably under her tutelage. Oh please, tell me you will take my dear Miss Pope. It will save all the trouble of your putting a notice in the papers.”
Darcy was, as ever, amused by Lady Metcalfe.“We have not yet baptized the boy, madam, I meet with the clergy tomorrow, let me keep my mind to that matter before I attempt to arrange his future education.”
“Oh, you are right I know, I am hasty in all matters, but most particularly I simply cannot bear to consider that a good governess may go to waste, she is a treasure, you will like her a great deal but be cautious, she is young and may very well fall in love with you, sir!”
“I should hope not,” said Darcy, astounded. “And in any case that hardly promotes her. If I thought her likely to do such a silly thing I would immediately deem her out of her wits and therefore an unsuitable governess. Lady Metcalfe, I was beginning to warm to the idea of your highly recommended Miss Pope, the reference is a good one, but now I fear my judgment is colored merely by the impression I have of her as a whimsical ninny with a predisposition to imagine romantic involvements where there is no chance of them.” Darcy frowned sternly, and then there it was upon his face, a smile, a genuine expression of his amusement, which was caught by Elizabeth’s having the chance to glance across at him.
He is teasing Lady Metcalfe! Poor creature, thought she, she has no idea he is all in jest, she will not know how to take him. Oh! What buffoonery and how very well it becomes him.
Lady Metcalfe was indeed quite shocked by Mr. Darcy’s opinion and set about placating him. “Oh, sir, do not be affronted,” she pleaded,“you will excuse my romanticism, it is a trait I cannot help.As a novelist I am always observing, taking little ideas here and there from life to draw my characters, you will forgive me.”
“But of course,” said Darcy, who bowed to bid the lady a farewell in order that he might speak with some of the others of the party. He did not get far. Lady Metcalfe again demanded his attention. “Mr. Darcy, let me thank you, if I may, you have been the means of a most sudden and unexpected inspiration.” She saw his quizzical look. “My next romantic novel; a governess, born of poverty, falls in love with her handsome master, but the great divides of their separate backgrounds prevent their love. She leaves but is drawn back by a voice,” said Lady Metcalfe dramatically.“Yes a voice!” she cried, “I shall add a little mysticism Mr. Darcy and make this tale ghostly, poetic license allows me that grace.” She went on, “The governess returns to find the house burnt and her beloved gone, presumed dead.When she discovers he still lives her ecstasy knows bounds, but alas, he can never look upon her again for he has been blinded in the fire and quite tragically disfigured,” said Lady Metcalfe quite clearly enraptured by her own narrative.
Darcy again tried to retreat. “That is quite a tale, ma’am. You should set about it with your pen without delay.”
“Indeed I should, sir,” said Lady Metcalfe,“before someone else has the idea and does it better!”
“Ah, madam you are too modest, no one could portray it more fervently than you, it is a tantalizing fiction,” he said. He made his way across the room to Elizabeth who was talking with Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“I see Lady Metcalfe has consented to release you,” said Elizabeth teasingly.
“Yes finally,” said Darcy looking about the room.“I have apparently inspired her next work of fiction.”
Elizabeth, even though she was newly acquainted with Lady Metcalfe, knew of the woman’s literary tendencies. “Shall she model her hero on you?”
“Rather foolishly, yes,” said he.
Elizabeth saw that he felt vaguely complimented and wished to mock him.“Alas it cannot succeed, you are entirely the wrong sort of man to be one of literature’s desirables.You are altogether too difficult and complicated, I love you very much of course, but your personality would not be best portrayed in a book, readers would not like you at all,” she observed.
Kitty, now further immersed in self-pity, engaged the next day in the girlish pursuit of playing a hopping game upon the flagstones of the hallway. Caring little for the ungainly appearance she created with her hopscotching, she continued to bob about the vestibule. With each hop her bitterness increased and with every skip it eased. Mrs. Reynolds soon came upon her.“Oh my dear girl,” said the woman,“you cannot leap about here, the clergy are due for the master and mistress.”
Kitty sighed, where was the excitement she longed for? If there was nothing more dour than the arrival of clergymen to divert her then Pemberley, she mused, was becoming decidedly tiresome. She assured the housekeeper that she had no intention of being involved in the clergy’s arrival.
“I shall not get in their way, Mrs. Reynolds.” At once she imagined Mr. Collins. “Oh Lord, if they be anything like him I shall pay especial attention to my invisibility,” she muttered.
“Mind you do keep clear, child,” warned Mrs. Reynolds, “they will think you possessed! Cavorting like that.” She added hurriedly,
“Be out of the way soon child, they are expected any minute, you must find some other way to spend your afternoon—look sharp girl!”
Kitty indulged herself with one more go at the game then retreated into the breakfast room and sat by the window. “I am so bored,” she said aloud to herself. Wickham’s return had vexed her greatly for Lydia now had little time for her, and she had a baby. “Lydia is so stupid, how could she not have known? Lizzy is the same! Oh Lord, everyone has infants and husbands and lovers to fill their days.”
Kitty Bennet sat and cried for a full ten minutes, not caring how she appeared, for who would pay any mind to her? She wiped her face on her sleeve. At last, she saw a carriage arrive at the front of the house. “Oh this will be the stuffy old priest,” she groaned, “we shall have sermons until dinner and beyo
nd.”
But the decrepit creature of her mind’s eye did not descend the carriage step. In his place was a young uncertain looking gentleman of about four and twenty.“Too handsome for a minister,” said Kitty and suddenly mindful of her disheveled appearance, she put herself straight and decided that sermons may be just as interesting as lively conversation after all.
CHAPTER 27
“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose.”
“The reading shall naturally be from the Book of Common Prayer,” said the young minister who had introduced himself as Jeremiah Cleary and proved to be, as far as one could judge within moments of meeting him, a pleasing, well-mannered young man.
“Yes of course,” said Darcy.
“Have you appointed the godparents?” asked the minister.
Elizabeth spoke now. “Partially, sir, my husband’s cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam takes the honor alongside my brother-in-law Charles Bingley,” she paused,“the female selection is a difficult one to make, with so many sisters, sir, you understand I run the risk in delighting one and insulting three others.”
Mr. Cleary smiled uncertainly. “Oh dear, if only I could advise as I know the Reverend Holcombe would.”
Elizabeth reassured him. “Do not trouble yourself, we will come to a good arrangement.”
The three spoke for a good while of the forthcoming event and the arrangements connected to it.With all the particulars detailed and the date set for the nineteenth day of September, there was nothing remaining. At last, Jeremiah Cleary stood to take his leave. “Until then, sir, madam,” he said with a bow, “I shall look forward to seeing you in Matlock.”
“Thank you,” said Darcy returning the young man’s bow, “but will you not stay for dinner? My wife and I have taken so much of your time and the hour is late now.”
“This is an unexpected pleasure, sir, I am most grateful, I would be delighted,” said Mr. Cleary.
That evening the dinner table was set to good advantage for the conversation. Darcy naturally had the head; Elizabeth his opposite at the foot, to her left sat the clergyman with Kitty directly across from him. Next to her Edwin Hanworth sat gazing across at Georgiana who was between Mr. Cleary and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Maria was next to Mr. Hanworth with as good a view of her favorite’s face as she could have wished for. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and Lady Metcalfe completed the gathering at Darcy’s end. Lady Metcalfe was as hungry for conversation as she was her main course.
“Your youngest sister Mrs. Darcy, she is not joining us?”
“No, ma’am, unfortunately not, she is not of a mind to socialize, she is recently reunited with her husband who has been away with the regiment. She has a new babe in arms. I think they prefer their own company at present.”
“Singular, but admirably romantic,” said Lady Metcalfe, then addressing Mr. Cleary at the far end of the table she said, “I am a great romantic, Mr. Cleary, I hope my overt opinions will not be too much for your sensitivities, sir.”
Mr. Cleary looked surprised.“Not at all, madam,” he said,“I am a great advocate of love myself.”
“Oh how wonderful,” said Lady Metcalfe. “And are you yet married?”
“No, ma’am I am not.”
“Better and better,” said Lady Metcalfe with a shrewd glance at Kitty whose face had become more than a little overspread with color.
Lady Metcalfe looked around at all present. “If I should pass away and see Heaven it could not be sweeter than this. I am surrounded by young lovers; it is indeed a treasure to see,” she said with satisfaction.
When Lady Metcalfe at last afforded the others present a chance to have a share in the conversation, Jeremiah Cleary took the opportunity of talking to Kitty who, in order to keep his attention, showed an unexpected interest in, and knowledge of, Fordyce’s Sermons. Elizabeth hid well her astonishment but recognized her sister’s interest to extend beyond matters of doctrinal relevance. How clever she was and yet how ironical it all seemed, Elizabeth would never have dreamed she would see it, the spectacle of Kitty engrossed in conversation with a clergyman. But what a gentlemanlike manner he had and fine features too. Elizabeth knew full well that Mr. Collins could never have inspired so avid an interest in God as Mr. Cleary had the art of doing.
Later, in the drawing room Mr. Hanworth announced to Darcy and Elizabeth that the sale of Great Fordham Hall was at last complete and that the Bingleys should take residence by late October.
“Oh, I am so happy for Jane,” said Elizabeth, “but, I confess, my felicitations are not at all generous for I relish the thought of having her nearer.”
“I understand you are very close,” said Mr. Hanworth.
“Oh yes we are, very close, but very different.”
“You must understand, Mr. Hanworth,” said Darcy, “that there is no one quite like Elizabeth, so she is naturally very different from everyone.”
Elizabeth laughed.“You would have everyone think me a most singular person!”
Darcy smiled. “Not at all, Elizabeth,” he protested. Turning to Mr. Hanworth he said, “Hear this, Hanworth, my wife, unlike other women, would not lie in after little Fitzwilliam’s birth, the woman has every opportunity to take advantage of the best nannies and nurses in the land but she insists upon doing everything herself, she is quite determined.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam,” cried Elizabeth, “how can you say that? I admit I like to do as much as I can, but I am not so obsessive, I am here enjoying this evening and quite happy to have Mrs. Quinn stay by William.”
Darcy looked at his wife.“You are a terrible liar, Elizabeth, you are not accomplished at untruths at all. I would advise you not to attempt deception.”
“My husband teases me, Mr. Hanworth, but he is much the same, he would not have you think it but he is just as likely to be found in the nursery as I am.”
“Good Heavens!” cried Mr. Hanworth. “Pray tell me, what opinion does your nurse have of him?”
“Oh, she thinks very ill of him indeed, he has quite astonished her on more than one occasion, I can assure you,” said Elizabeth merrily.
Darcy was adamant. “It is my house, surely I may go in any room I please, even if in doing so I risk alarming the nurse.”
Hanworth laughed. “You pay no mind to convention in these matters, sir, it is admirable.”
Darcy smiled. “I spent a great deal of my life concerned with petty principles and rules, I am a more natural being now, and proud of it.”
“Heaven help the nurse!” said Hanworth.
Fitzwilliam Charles Darcy was baptized on the nineteenth day of September 1813.The couple’s eventual choice for godmother was Kitty. This quite surprised Mary who had privately hoped for the honor herself. In the time since their first meeting Jeremiah Cleary and Kitty had formed an admirable relationship, and formed it with rapidity, he was gentlemanlike and attentive and she, quite surprisingly, responded to his reserved affections by returning them most fervently.
“I am happy for you, Kitty,” said Elizabeth, “he is a truly good young man, you deserve him.”
Mrs. Bennet was full of excitement.“Who would have thought it, Kitty to marry a clergyman, I could have believed it of Mary, but there we are!”
Kitty did not thank Lydia for reminding her that they had both laughed mercilessly at Charlotte Lucas for her choice of a clergyman for a husband. “I wish you would not go on about it so, Lydia,” she said, “I did not know then that clergymen could be handsome.”
Mr. Bennet met the news with his usual astuteness. “They will do very well wherever they settle. He will excel himself in the church, I daresay.A good-looking parson could talk about the time of day in his sermons and still have a sizeable congregation every Sunday. I guarantee it.Young Mr. Cleary will make every girl in the land devout, just you wait. And Kitty, when she is Mrs. Cleary, will be jealous and smug all at the same time!”
September saw a burst of matrimonial activity, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Maria married in Derbyshire, Mary an
d Robert Price married from Longbourn, and Kitty and Jeremiah Cleary became engaged.
“What a happy month,” said Elizabeth, “my mother does not know herself, if it were not for Jane’s news of leaving Netherfield, she would be too happy for words. But alas, she is distraught at their moving. I confess I feel little sympathy for her, I am too taken up with pleasure at the thought of it myself.”
“Ah yes, you will have your dear Jane back again,” said Darcy.
“Indeed, and Caroline and Mrs. Hurst, we must not forget them, I cannot wait to see Jane and Bingley again but his sisters’ company I can always do without.”
“Mrs. Hurst, I understand, will not be making calls, she is still in mourning, remember. Take solace, Elizabeth, I have it on good authority that Caroline is to spend the winter with Lady Catherine.”
“Really?” asked Elizabeth.“Poor Mr. Collins.”
Mr. Darcy's Decision: A Sequel to Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice Page 20
