Chapter Twelve
The wedding day dawned with a start as her mother’s frantic calls filled the house, but Elizabeth could hardly say she felt any different about such alarms as on any other day.
Finished with her preparations for the ceremony, due to begin in an hour, she waited in a seldom-used parlour. She needed quiet while the rest of the house was aflutter.
Darcy was expected to arrive momentarily. He mentioned some of his relatives might be in attendance, although he was unsure how many. Elizabeth thought it was odd, but it was such short notice.
Unexpectedly, Mrs. Hill announced a visitor for Elizabeth. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Miss de Bourgh, for you, Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth was all astonishment but dropped a curtsy. She had barely risen before the lady’s diatribe began.
“You must understand the reason for my journey here.”
Elizabeth knew Lady Catherine would not look upon her marriage to Darcy with complacency, but she never expected the lady to arrive to voice her disapproval. Elizabeth chose to ignore the statement. She would not grovel for approval.
“Welcome to Longbourn, Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh. Mr. Darcy is to arrive shortly. May I offer you and your daughter some refreshment?”
“I am not to be trifled with. An alarming report reached me two days ago. You believe yourself engaged to my nephew, Mr. Darcy! Though I know this a scandalous falsehood, I set off to make my sentiments known to you. I hoped to hear it universally contradicted.”
“Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” said Elizabeth coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it.”
“I am almost Darcy’s nearest relation. I am entitled to know all his dearest concerns. This match can never take place. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter!”
“If he is then he would never offer for me.”
Miss de Bourgh stood half hidden behind her imposing mother, oddly jerking her hands, but roused to action after Elizabeth’s last words. She shrieked and lunged for the wedding bonnet lying on a nearby chair. She tried to rip off the layers of lace, laughing maniacally.1
She was hardly successful, but Elizabeth watched with a sort of glee. She hated the bonnet her mother chose. As quickly as it emerged, Miss de Bourgh’s fury faded. Her mother was shouting commandments at her as Miss de Bourgh turned pale and seemed to have difficulty breathing. She was clearly in pain, Elizabeth noticed, and as her hands continued to jerk, they looked painfully red. Elizabeth took the young woman’s elbow and guided her to a sofa before pouring her a glass of wine. Elizabeth turned and looked expectantly at Lady Catherine, who had not ceased her abuse, taking no notice of the plight of her daughter.
Darcy’s voice boomed from the doorway. “That is enough!” he cried, coming into the room. “How could you ever think I would marry Anne? And how could you ever think Elizabeth would need to use arts and allurements to gain my notice? Do you not see what she just did for your daughter, even as you insult her in every way imaginable? How could I not love her?”
Darcy stopped speaking as the whole room and, he sensed, there were others behind him as well, looked sharply in his declaration. Elizabeth’s face assumed an unreadable expression, but her eyes misted.
When she regained her breath, Lady Catherine would not be gainsaid. “Love? Love! Honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid this match. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest. You will never gain what you so obviously desire: acceptance in the first circles. You will not be noticed by his family or friends. You will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”
“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But as the wife of Mr. Darcy I will have so many other sources of happiness I would never repent the disapproval others have of our union.”
Darcy brightened at her words and walked to her. “Are you well? I was waiting for my uncle to arrive, but when he was late, I chose to come ahead, rather than keep you waiting.”
“Yes, though I fear the bonnet is ruined. I hope you do not mind.” She gave him an impish grin as she picked it up for his inspection. “I will have to thank your aunt and cousin for being of use to rid me of this hat!”
She laughed a little and Darcy returned the smile. There was an unspoken agreement between the two to not allow Lady Catherine and Anne de Bourgh’s display of ill breeding to ruin their wedding day.
Lady Catherine continued in the background until another male voice joined the fray. As Elizabeth did not recognise it, she could only assume it was a relation to Darcy. “Catherine! Cease this immediately.”
Lady Catherine jumped at the voice. “Dickie!” She cleared her throat. “Sidney, what are you doing here?”
Elizabeth gasped. This was not how she hoped to meet the earl!
“I could ask the same of you! You were told repeatedly that Darcy would not marry Anne. Then you come on his wedding day to try to stop the proceedings?? If nothing else, can you not see how this would harm the family’s reputation? Are you devoid of every proper feeling?”
Lady Catherine exclaimed, “Wedding day? I come to prevent the false announcement of this betrothal at a ball!” Turning to Elizabeth and Darcy, she declared, “Good Lord! Is this your wedding dress? Darcy, what on earth are you marrying?”
Darcy took a step towards his aunt. “The ball was held two nights ago, but how did you know of it?” His aunt was silent, but Darcy could easily guess. Turning towards Elizabeth, he explained, “Now we see what was so important that your cousin faced the rain on Monday and caught cold. Due to the rain, the ink must have smudged.”
Anne began muttering and proceeded to cough, drawing the earl’s notice. Lord Sidney hissed quietly so only the occupants of the room could hear. “Catherine, where is Mrs. Jenkinson? Anne needs her tonic! I am pleased you do not keep her locked away like some do, but this fantasy that Darcy would marry her opens you both to ridicule!”
Lady Catherine seemed properly chastised, for the moment. “If he does not take her, who will? Only he would overlook her...deficiencies. Pemberley could pass to Georgiana’s children. Who will care for Anne when I am gone?”
Sidney, Darcy, and Elizabeth stared at her in disbelief. Darcy replied reassuringly, “Aunt, how can you doubt your family? We will see to Anne, but Pemberley needs a healthy mistress and heir. Would you deny me the joy of fatherhood?” He glanced at Elizabeth, who blushed deeply. “She is very worthy and capable of the role. Mother would have liked her.”
Lady Catherine only clucked disgustedly in return.
“You will wait here until the breakfast is over, and we shall arrange for your return to Kent,” Sidney said.
Elizabeth spoke up. “Please, sir. Miss de Bourgh looks as though she needs rest and refreshment. We have an empty guest room…”
“Absolutely not!” Lady Catherine replied with all her past fury reawakened. “I will not abide here another moment with these people. Darcy, you will arrange for us to stay where you were.”
Darcy and the earl laughed outright. “Aunt, my friend Bingley was my host. He is leasing a nearby estate.”
Anne began to cough again, and the lady seemed to relent. “Very well, Darcy. Anne needs her rest. That is the least you owe her.”
Bingley stuck his head into the room. Darcy and Elizabeth stifled a shared groan at the knowledge that the whole household knew of the argument.
“Madam, I would be pleased to host you and your daughter.” Glancing back he spoke to his sister, who was trying to peek inside. “Caroline, might you go with them and speak with the housekeeper?”
“Of course, Charles,” Miss Bingley said. “If you would just follow me, my lady.”
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes. “I have met you before.”
“Yes, ma’am. I have had the honour of meeting with you when I have visited Miss Darcy.”
Lady Catherine scrutinised Miss Bingley. “I recall you are a very genteel sort of girl. Surely you know your place and never aspired to rise above it like so many who know my nephew.” She cast another disdainful look at Elizabeth.
Miss Bingley stuttered her reply. “Yes, of course, my lady.”
Darcy took a step forward to chastise his aunt again, but Mr. Collins came rushing into the room. “Lady Catherine, I apologise for my untidy penmanship to inconvenience you in such a way...”
She thumped her walking cane on the ground. “You will come with me to continue your apologies.”
Bingley intervened again. “If you will just follow me to the carriage, Caroline will see to everything else.”
Darcy and Elizabeth both gave him a grateful look as the others finally left the room. Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity, and people were shooed to their proper places. Elizabeth braced for her mother to have an attack of nerves with an earl in the house, but she remained acceptably composed and managed to direct things as necessary. By chance, she was left alone with him in the parlour.
“I have heard many things of you, Miss Bennet.”
Choosing to rely on wit lest she be intimidated, she smiled. “A lady always enjoys knowing she is being praised.” She added a wink for effect, and the earl began to chuckle.
“Between your wit and your grace, I think you will make a fine Mrs. Darcy.” He took her hand in his and kissed it with affection. “You will honour our family.”
Before Elizabeth could make much sense of things, she was walked by her father to the Longbourn parish pastor, who stood in the decorated drawing room. Soon, Darcy was pledging to comfort, and honour Elizabeth. She could not deny the thrill she felt as he declared he would love and cherish her. She was his, Elizabeth Rebecca Darcy, as something told her she was always meant to be. He smirked a little as she rushed over her promise to obey. When he slid a beautiful heirloom emerald ring onto her finger, she was radiant.
The wedding breakfast was a complete blur. Her mother tried to make it as elaborate as possible, given the short notice. She met the Earl of Sidney with all proper decorum. He seemed very amiable and even conversed with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though he managed to avoid Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. Elizabeth enjoyed the obvious pride and joy on Darcy’s face when he formally introduced her as Mrs. Darcy. She rather liked the title herself.
Upon finishing her goodbyes to her family, saving her father for last, Darcy escorted her to the door. Jane came flying at her and squeezed her tightly before placing one of her own hats on her sister’s head and tying it.
“One last sisterly act, dear Lizzy,” Jane spoke with tears pooling in her eyes.
Darcy squeezed her hand and led her to the carriage. Facing opposite her husband in the luxurious carriage, she strained her eyes to catch the last glimpses of her childhood home.
*****
As they drove beyond the Meryton boundary on the road towards London, Darcy watched his wife’s eyes fill with tears. He pulled the curtains shut and crossed to the other side of the carriage. He withdrew his handkerchief to gently wipe her eyes, untied her bonnet, and pulled her into his embrace. It was as much for his comfort as for Elizabeth’s, but she seemed to readily accept his attentions. He surmised that she felt overwhelmed by the events of the day. His aunt and cousin’s attack, followed by the wedding, and compounded by leaving her home and family behind; he could understand her anxiety. As much as he loved her, he acknowledged they knew little of each other. Here he was, minutes into his marriage, and his wife was sobbing in his arms. He prayed it was only due to the emotions of the day and not the added concern of being alone with him, of being his wife.
He began to realise how he really had no clue how to be a husband or soothe a woman. He was little more than a child when his mother died and scarcely knew how to comfort his sister. Darcy could not summon the perfect words to say and chose to simply hold her and caress her back. He pressed kisses into her hair and was pleased that she seemed comforted by his meagre attempts and nestled even closer.
After some amount of time, they fell asleep, still nestled in their embrace. The footman’s call that they had arrived at the coaching inn to change the horses awoke them. His arms felt quite bereft when Elizabeth pulled from him and declared that she desired to see to some personal needs during their wait.
When they returned to the carriage, she appeared in better spirits. Darcy smiled as she chose to sit beside him. He immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“How are you feeling, dear?”
“Better. It was just the nerves from today and, well, the last few weeks. I am usually not given to anxiety.”
“It is quite natural. I too have felt the effects of the day and the tumult of our engagement. But now there is no rushing. We have the rest of our lives to know each other.”
Elizabeth gave him a grateful smile that soon turned teasing. “And our odd relatives? You have met all of mine. Do you have any others, sir?”
Smiling, Darcy returned her playfulness. “Relatives, or do you only mean the odd ones?” This earned a chuckle from Elizabeth, and he was delighted that he had eased her spirits.
Turning serious, she carefully replied, “You have only a younger sister, I believe.”
Darcy’s smile turned wistful. “Georgiana. She is more than ten years my junior and the dearest creature, doubly precious as she was my only immediate family until we married. Mother died shortly after her birth. My cousin Henry and I have been her guardians since Father died five years ago.” A variety of emotions passed across his eyes while he was speaking. He grew silent.
“I understand she is very accomplished.” Elizabeth pushed for more information with obvious nervousness.
The tone of her voice gained Darcy’s attention. “Miss Bingley is a shameless flatterer when she feels it to her advantage. You are clever enough to guess that she sought not only to garner favour from me, but she also was attempting to insult you during her speech on accomplishments. Georgiana is but fifteen. She excels in music but has little patience to show true proficiency in the other arts yet, nor will I pressure her to learn them. She is fond of reading. She is also painfully shy. I believe she will gain as much from your liveliness as I will.” He squeezed her hand, and Elizabeth let out an audible exhale.
“And your other relatives? Lord Sidney seems very amiable.”
“Yes, my mother’s generation of Fitzwilliams were quite varied. I am told Mother was quiet and shy and that Georgiana is quite like her, but in my memories, Mother is always perfect and serene, not quite as reserved as my sister and I. She shocked the older generation of her family with a love match to my father. They wanted a titled man, but she was firm in her love for him.”
Elizabeth nodded. “She sounds like Jane. She used to be dreadfully shy, but we Bennets are nothing if not adaptable; in time, she learned to find an inner peace and project such serenity outward. This masks her fervent feelings, not dissimilar to your own, I suspect, and she will only marry for love.”
Darcy was amazed at Elizabeth’s words. When Bingley first proposed, Darcy had not believed Jane had regard for his friend. Had Darcy not been so consumed with his own concerns or known Bingley entertained serious thoughts about Jane, he would have considered warning Bingley off. Afterwards, while there was little he could do about his friend’s engagement, especially after events at the ball, he had remained sceptical, although he could not assign terrible motives on Jane’s part for the incident at the ball. Now he searched his memory and recognised that her countenance when with Bingley was quite like his mother’s calm affection for his father. Perhaps it was fortunate he had not had a chance to interfere, both for his friend’s happiness and his own relations with his wife and her family.
“And the other Fitzwilliams?” Elizabeth’s voice startled him from his musings.
“The earl’s four children are as amiable as he. You already know Lady Catherine is horribly overbearing.” He paused again as the events of the morning raced through his head. “I owe you an apology.”
“You cannot be held responsible for the actions of your family.” Her words made his heart clench.
“That is exactly it. During our engagement, you have felt unsure of my affections many times. And I have repeatedly declared how much I value you. I have denied any desire for a wife only of rank and fortune, but you still seem to believe I had my doubts.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied. She stirred uneasily.
“Did you...do you believe I hold your family in contempt? Is that why you have been so upset today? You fear you will not see them often?”
The tears flooding her eyes were answer enough. “I will admit their behaviour to you often disgusts me. I speak more of your parents’ lack of consideration for your feelings. Though claiming to love you, they display impudence and vulgarity in their lack of decorum. Please believe me; although I cannot be at ease with them, I would welcome your visits with them either in Hertfordshire or in any of our homes. I know what it is to lose family. I would never ask that of you simply for my own comfort.”
Elizabeth took a shaky breath. “Thank you. I know most of them are quite indecorous, but I love them. And what is more, they love me, and as I enter your world and your family with an unsure reception, they mean all the more to me.”
She paused for a moment, then softly added, “I fear you will come to regret me…come to think I am too like them, regret that I am not enough like the ladies of the ton. If I embarrass you, will you think me as wild and vulgar as my family?”
Darcy was stunned to realise he had never considered Elizabeth would feel that way, though he secretly believed she oversimplified her family’s acceptance of her. Did he not hear her mother criticise her frequently?
Darcy took one of her hands and raised it to his lips before speaking. “I am sorry you fear for your acceptance. I hope meeting my uncle has helped assuage some of your fears. I could never regret you. Let me express from the bottom of my heart that I am humbled and ashamed of my aunt’s actions. I cannot criticise your family when my own is much worse. And I see now I must value them for the way they shaped your life and made you into the fascinating woman you are. And I thank you for not judging me too harshly in light of my vulgar relations.”
They sat in silence. Darcy held Elizabeth’s hand on his chest, over his beating heart. He certainly felt a closer intimacy with Elizabeth than he ever had before. It was liberating to express his feelings about her family, although disconcerting to see how wrong they had once been. Even more gratifying, Elizabeth accepted him still, although she had seen yet another side of the worst in him. With everyone else, he needed to be the master of Pemberley, faultless in all roles: master, landlord, nephew, cousin, brother, and friend. Elizabeth saw who he truly was.
At long last, she broke the silence. “I believe we were discussing your Fitzwilliam relatives?”
“My mother had three other siblings, but they died young. A fever struck the family and left tragedy in its wake. Such was nearly the case with Anne.”
“Does she still suffer?”
“She was such a gentle and happy child until a bout with scarlet fever one year. Now she is often plagued with pains in her body and heart. The fever occasionally returns. Lately, she has been prone to outbursts and uncontrolled movements. The physicians have evaluated her and can only say this is sometimes an unfortunate consequence of her fever. She is not always so incapacitated. In her right mind, she has no desire to marry; she is not fixed upon me. But during these attacks, she is...unstable.”
Darcy had grown quite distressed speaking of the subject, but Elizabeth attempted to soothe him. “It must be difficult to see an illness take such a hold on a loved one.”
Darcy only nodded. It was always acutely painful to see his loved ones suffer and pass, and he had certainly seen it many times over. Now he had the added burden of responsibility for helping to manage the de Bourgh estate.
Elizabeth’s voice broke in again. “My mother’s siblings have that same range of behaviour as your own wider family’s. Surely you see Mr. Gardiner is nothing like Mrs. Phillips or my mother. I hope you liked the Gardiners.”
Squeezing her hand, he smiled. “I truly did. They were very pleasant. We have been invited to dine with them while we are in London after the holidays, unless you would rather host them. I leave it to you to select the date.” Elizabeth smiled, and Darcy was grateful that Mr. Gardiner seemed ready to overlook his sins where Elizabeth was concerned.
“My father had no surviving siblings. Did yours?”
“Two older sisters lived; they married and moved far away. I rarely see them. Father’s youngest brother drowned as a youth, another one died as an infant, and the one nearest his age died in the Flanders Campaign in ‘93. His family had desired he enter the church, but he was not suited to that kind of quiet life, apparently.” Darcy sighed. Speaking of it brought to mind his father’s fervent wish for Wickham to enter the church to be spared such a fate. “He had several daughters and one son who intends to take orders but they are not settled near Pemberley.”
“So much loss, so young. Wealth can only offer comforts for the time we are allowed on this earth, for it can neither assure happiness or preservation of life.”
They grew pensive, but Darcy could not bear for Elizabeth to be left melancholy on their wedding day. “This will not do. Let us speak of something more cheerful. What think you of books?”
Elizabeth laughed. “William, what kind of question is that? Do you mean to ask if I enjoy reading? Do you wish to discuss a specific title or genre? Or should I say something that displays my refined taste?” She arched a brow and fluttered her eyelashes. “Very well, I do think books look best in a library, closed and on the shelves. The colour of their spines offsets the wood found in such a room. There, do I sound like a fashionable lady?”
Darcy chuckled at the image she created to ease her obvious nerves. “Elizabeth, you know I would not have you be anything but your intelligent self. I know you enjoy reading. Do you like just the usual histories and poetry?” He watched in satisfaction as his words took away her unease, and she answered without reservation.
“Of course not! I read many things, even all the current novels and their satires as well. Does that shock you?” She laughed when he replied in the negative. “If I ever wrote my own satire, however, I would write the gentleman in the role of the virtuous servant Pamela, who resists the seductions of her master.”
He tried to contain his smile. He was not shocked at all that she had read the famous novel or held such an unusual opinion. Once again, his fantasy of Elizabeth proved too true to the real thing, even her words were the same; however, he must not dwell on such things. Darcy turned his mind back to the present from remembrance of Elizabeth’s responses to him in that particular imagining.
Arching a brow, he replied, “I believe that has been done. Was not Joseph Andrews virtuous to his Fanny? Did he not resist the enticements of a wealthy and titled lady?”2
He was also unsurprised to see her acknowledge that she had read Henry Fielding’s parody of Pamela, in which her brother was just as chaste as she.
Elizabeth looked at him appraisingly. “I must agree. Although Fielding was mocking Richardson, I did find Joseph Andrews’ celibacy refreshing compared to the hypocrisy of Mr. Bountiful, who only desired to seduce Pamela and had at least one natural child. Or even Fielding’s Tom Jones, who is too happy to be lost in the arms of various temptresses and possibly fathered a child by one while proclaiming love for another.”3
She paused and seemed disappointed not to have shocked or provoked him with her demand for male celibacy.
Darcy decided to turn the tables on her. “You seem quite put out by the men acknowledging their natural children. It is their obligation to care for the child and its mother. What would you have them do instead?”
Her eyes flashed, and Darcy suppressed his slight smile.
“What wife would enjoy thinking that of her husband? Of knowing he held affection for someone else? How can she trust his vow of fidelity? Especially as these women love the men, it is not a mere marriage of convenience they hope to make.”
“You speak passionately on the subject.”
“I am convinced nothing but mutual affection can lead to marital felicity or self-respect.” Darcy nodded in agreement, and she continued, “But it is more than that: it is the lack of prudence that is offensive. Those men would rob the legitimate heir of his due to fund this other child, steal from a daughter’s dowry to put up a child and mother, and all for selfish desires. I know it is the honourable way when an innocent child is begat, but it is not the most honourable way for a gentleman to behave.”
“You talk as though maintaining one woman and child with modest expectations is an expensive feat.”
“You are speaking to a woman who knows the sense of economy. My father spends the whole of his income each year and one hundred pounds each on us sisters. A gentleman would be hard pressed to support his child and its mother on much less than that, not considering the more expensive gentleman’s education if the child is a boy, and yet it would rob my family of the comforts we have. Certainly you can see we are not outfitted in the newest styles and expensive trimmings, and our carriage horses work on the farm as well.”
After a pause, she shook her head and began anew. “However, I do not speak of that kind of virtue. Consider Pamela’s lowly position as a servant and her willingness to spurn being well settled as mistress of the wealthy Mr. Bountiful to keep her chastity and respectability. Not only are gentlemen not expected to be chaste, but I also doubt they are taught to spurn the seduction of a handsome fortune or fine estate for nearly any reason. You nearly did not.”
“You think not?”
“You must confess the truth! It was another point among your fastidious standards for suitable women.”
“When I first met you, I admit I felt more akin to Tom Jones than Joseph Andrews, yes.”4
“Worried of falling into the web of a certain lady of great means?”
She smirked, and he understood she referenced Miss Bingley. He suppressed a shudder. “Certainly not. I was never tempted by Miss Bingley.” He paused, then clarified the matter. “I have had one who would steal all that is mine.”
“The great master of Pemberley made to feel like an impoverished foundling, unacknowledged by your only living parent, cheated by the companion of your youth, and nearly losing your rightful inheritance? Come, sir, it cannot be.”
“Oh, but it is. In matters of affection and attention, I was cheated. The same villain attempted to force himself into marriage with my sister—a more faithful portrait of Sophia there could never be. She is everything beautiful, youthful, innocent, modest, and tender.”5
Elizabeth gasped. “How awful. How was she saved?”
“By the merest chance.”
Darcy did not desire to speak of Wickham this day, so he chose to alter the course of the conversation again. It seemed no matter what he did speak to Elizabeth about that night in the library, which charmed her enough to come to his bed, it was not on the subject of Pamela or seduction. Still, he found himself feeling bold enough to speak some of the words he wished he shared with her then.
“You are incorrect in your assumptions of what I desired in a woman, Elizabeth. I might not have known exactly why I was never drawn to any other lady before, but I knew I wanted a woman who could match me intellectually and defend her opinions. I did not want timidity, and I was sick of deference.” He paused and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “Shortly after meeting you, I found I very much admired impertinence and a lively mind.”
Elizabeth gasped at the contact but bravely spoke. “You refused the trappings of society all along, like Pamela?”6
He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I did, and I think I was always longing for you, Lizzy.” She blushed, and he added, “And, dear, so you know, I have been like Joseph Andrews as well. You need have no fear of our children’s money being spent on others.”
He bestowed a tender kiss but lingered on her lips almost as a promise of more to come later. Elizabeth sighed happily as he broke the contact, and they continued the discussion of literature until the carriage passed onto the cobbled streets of London.
1 Anne is suffering from what we would diagnose as rheumatic fever, a complication from Scarlet Fever. The onset of her behaviour is a complication of it.
2 I have mentioned Pamela before. The book inspired many parodies (or blatant plagiarism in some cases). Henry Fielding wrote several. One was called Shamela, in which the heroine is not virtuous or chaste but merely acting a part. Another was Joseph Andrews. He was the brother of Pamela’s heroine, and amongst the trials he goes through before finally being united with his beloved, he continually resists the seduction of, I kid you not, Lady Booby. Fielding was mocking the moral hypocrisy in Pamela but not seriously arguing for male chastity, although Elizabeth wishes he had been.
3 Tom Jones was another famous novel by Fielding. I am not attempting at all to summarise the entire plot, but only in relation to Darcy and Elizabeth’s conversation. The protagonist was raised as a foundling for a wealthy gentleman’s family. He has a short affair with the gamekeeper’s daughter and possibly fathers her child. Later, he falls in love with his childhood friend and neighbour from a nearby estate, Sophia Western. Both families are against their marriage. Feeling the obstacles insurmountable, Tom flees the area and eventually meets Lady Bellaston, and even when he is later reunited with Sophia, who has avoided an arranged marriage, and she affirms her regard for him, Tom does not give up his affair with Lady Bellaston. Later, he ends up in yet another woman’s bed.
Elizabeth finds this offensive, although in the end, Tom marries Sophia, and he is seemingly reformed by her virtuous ways. Richardson describes Tom’s marriage to Sophia as thus: “Whatever in the nature of Jones had a tendency to vice,,[sic] has been corrected by continual conversation with this good man, and by his union with the lovely and virtuous Sophia.”
4 Darcy casts Wickham in the role of Tom’s enemies. Tom was raised with one of his enemies. Tom was actually heir to the estate, but through the lies about his birth, his enemy was believed to be the heir. The young man was cruel to Tom while gaining the affections of most of the characters. Another man planned to rape Sophia and trap her into marriage in order to make Tom give her up. In this case, Wickham is like both enemies.
5 Darcy does not desire a wife like Sophia but admits his sister is very much like her. An 1800 pin-up of a dishevelled Sophia jumping rope in contemporary clothing, rather than the hoop skirts of the 1740s, described her thusly: “Adorned with all the charms in which Nature can array her, bedecked with beauty, youth, sprightliness, innocence, modesty and tenderness, breathing sweetness from her rosy lips and darting brightness from her sparkling eyes, the lovely Sophia comes!”
6 Darcy and Elizabeth are equals in their likeness to Pamela here. They were both willing to give up what society lauded as the best course and stick to their principles