NOW IT WAS ELIZABETH’S TURN to stand unmoving. She felt as if she had turned to stone. What on earth had that infuriating man suggested? He could hardly be serious, and yet there was no indication of mirth in his face. Instead, the face that returned her look was severe in countenance, with no glint of mirth in the eyes and a slight moue of distaste around the mouth. This, she determined, was something far from a joke. Further, this was no romantic proposal, stated so baldly, and with his cousin right next to him. Whatever could this be about? Elizabeth had no particular liking of the professor, and by all indications, he had even less of her; there must be some other meaning to his strange offer. His cool eyes must have taken in her shock, for his expression softened and he quickly began to explain his scheme.
“Please, sit.” He showed her to a comfortable chair. “As my cousin unnecessarily reminds me, I am all too frequently the object of many a young woman in Town who wishes to ensnare me in marriage. The true purpose in every one of these cases is for the woman to wed herself to my fortune. I am,” he stated as simply as he might comment upon the clouds in the sky, “a very wealthy man.
“I, myself, am never the object of their affections, for as you have seen, I am a misanthrope and a bore, and whilst my manners can be extremely proper, I excel in rudeness. In that, I can see, you agree with me. I have grown tired of fending off these women, and worse, their mothers, at every social event which I am forced to attend. I have also been alerted to the uncomfortable fact that my aunt intends to announce my engagement to her daughter before long. There is, however, a means of bringing an end to all these machinations and that is by becoming engaged to some suitable woman. Namely, you.”
Elizabeth blinked. This was not, then, an offer borne of some sudden deep passion or tender love, but of desperation and mercenary coldness. “But we do not like each other enough to be married,” she pointed out the simple fact.
“That is true,” Darcy countered. “However, we need not actually marry. A public engagement will suffice. At the end of the term we specify, you shall throw me over. This will raise your estimation in the eyes of the ton —for how grand you must be to be able to cast me and my wealth aside—and will hopefully lower mine!
“For my part,” he continued, ignoring her stuttering protestations, “I shall teach you, as you requested, to speak as a lady of the first circles, to act like one, to be one in every sense of the word. And on my arm, you shall be accepted fully as one. And when, at last, you accept your aunt’s offer of a season, you shall be much admired as the finest woman in London.”
This was too much for Elizabeth to take in at once. “But how would we proceed? Surely no one here would believe in our faux engagement. They all know me too well to believe that I would accept someone I have known for so little time.”
The professor thought for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he did so. Elizabeth observed him carefully, taking in the full lips balanced on a crooked finger, the line of concentration above his eyes, the way he sucked in his cheeks as he pondered. He was unpleasant, to be certain, but most fascinating to be around.
He sat up straight with a start. “I have it! We shall start immediately. You will become a regular visitor to Netherfield, at the express request of Caroline as her special guest, and under that guise we can begin your lessons. In time, we will convince your family and friends that we have found affection for each other, and eventually, we shall announce our engagement. Once you have moved to London, where you will stay with Sir Harrison and Lady Grant, or even with your own aunt and uncle, should you prefer that, we may continue in public. You will no longer require a season, per se, but we can offer the explanation of the necessity of being introduced to London’s society as my intended. You then may have your season the following year, should you desire it. By that time, you will have all the social connections you need to make a very good match.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms confidently across his chest.
“But do you believe I can learn all the manners and graces and patterns of speech in sufficient time for this?” Elizabeth still was unsure of her thoughts on the scheme.
“Six months, Eliza. Three if you have a good ear and a quick tongue.”
“I don’t think you can do it, Darcy,” the colonel interrupted, “but I’ll throw in a wager if you can. Pass her off as the daughter of a duchess at some celebrated ball in six months, and I shall endeavour to see a case of that contraband French cognac you so like make its way to your house. Further, I shall contribute to outfitting her in all the fashions of Town. My allowance from the pater must be put to good use. We shall send for Mrs. Pearce immediately, and take her to London for fittings and a meeting with your sister’s dressmaker.”
Darcy jumped to his feet and strode over to his cousin. “Let us shake on it, Richard. It is a deal!”
Elizabeth was stunned. The decision had been made, one that concerned her most completely and intimately, and she, it seemed, had little say in it.
“Gentlemen,” she protested once she finally was able to speak again, “you have forgotten to consult my wishes!”
“That is true, Darcy. Have you forgotten that Miss Elizabeth might have some feelings about your proposal?” The colonel’s concern was sincere.
“Oh no, I don’t think so. Not any feelings that we need bother about. Have you, Eliza?” His cheery smile and the quizzical tilt to his head spoke of his utter disregard.
“Well I never! I was mistaken to speak to you. Please forgive me for interrupting your privacy,” she stood and turned to leave, but Darcy caught her by the elbow. She flinched at the unexpected physical contact, but remained still.
“No, no, not so fast, Eliza. I have decided that this little endeavour will be of great value to us both. I shall achieve my aim of throwing off the husband-hunters of Town; you shall achieve yours of being able to move in society; and the colonel here will achieve his of procuring for me the cognac his fully intends to drink himself. Don’t be missish, Eliza,” his marvellous voice grew mesmerising and seductive. “Think of the future. You shall pass as a grand lady, as a duchess. You shall be so admired that even should your custom slip and you revert, momentarily, to your present manners and speech, it shall be seen as something new and wonderful from the highest strata, and everyone will fall over their feet to emulate you. You shall have the pick of the finest men in Town, and you shall marry very, very well. You will even have the opportunity to spend as much time as you wish in my library, perusing my vast collection, and reading at will. Think on it, Eliza! Think on it!”
He waved his hands suggestively as he spoke, and Lizzy was put in mind of the snake charmers she had seen once at an exhibition. But she was no slithering creature to be so manipulated!
“You have decided? You? What gives you the right to decide what will be of value to me ? Have you appointed yourself my lord and master already, when I wished merely to enter into a business arrangement? How dare you!” She would have stamped her foot in indignation, but refused to give him the satisfaction of observing such a typical gesture. Instead she straightened up her posture and intensified her glare.
The colonel was biting his lips and could not suppress a wide grin. “Oh, I am enjoying myself immensely!” he proclaimed to nobody. “You might wish to reconsider, Darcy. This one has fire that will meet yours in equal force. I might be a betting man at times, but I would not wish to wager a penny on which of the two of you would win a battle of wills.” He sat back in his chair and made himself comfortable, as if he were about to watch some entertainment.
Darcy, for his part, met Elizabeth’s indignation with a sally of his own. “How dare I? I dare by having the means, knowledge, and experience to give you what you want. What you asked for, in fact, only a few moments ago. Have you changed your mind already? Are you so unsteady in your convictions that a mere disagreement over price will send you fleeing? Or are you a woman made of sterner stuff—the sort of woman the ton would accept as my betrothed? I, for one, believe it is the latter.”
“And, sir, the only way I can prove my mettle is by surrendering to your terms? You sadly underestimate me! I shall be on my way, and shall never bother you again. If my season in Town were to throw me in the paths of others like yourself, I should be glad to have avoided that fate.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam lost his valiant attempt to contain his mirth. “Now, now, Miss Bennet,” he managed through a barely controlled chortle, “let us see if we can discuss this rationally.” He cleared his throat and spoke more seriously and very smoothly. “I shall not expect you to forgive my cousin his rudeness, for he behaves thus willingly and intentionally, and should not be expected to show himself in any other way. However, what he says is true. His skill is remarkable, second only to his conceit, and he can grant you your wish at no cost to you, other than your agreement to have your name linked with his for some months. After that, you will be free to act and move as you please.” As Lizzy’s eyes reflected the softening of her defiance, he added, “I have recently completed my commission and have no intentions to accept another for some months. I shall, if you desire, locate myself at my cousin’s’ house whilst you are at your lessons, as a chaperon of sorts and to help temper my cousin’s less gentlemanly outbursts. He must be master of your instruction, but I shall be your friend when he becomes an ogre. And,” he spoke in low and coaxing tones, “I should be pleased to continue our acquaintance.”
“Think of the theatre, Eliza,” Darcy’s beautiful voice purred, “think of the opera. You do enjoy theatre and music do you not? Ah, I thought as much. We shall get a box, and you may enjoy as much art as you desire. And the galleries? The museums? Yes, I knew you were a woman of taste and discretion. You are gentle born and have the makings of a fine lady, Eliza. We need only polish the outside to reflect the treasure within.”
Elizabeth could feel herself wavering and knew that she would crumble in the face of this dual assault on her resolution if she did not act immediately. The theatre, the concerts, the lectures, the galleries… these were all such inducements. And while she knew she would never be anything other than a friend to the colonel, she did enjoy his company greatly. “I must think on this, sir,” she said as soon as she felt her voice would be steady. “Your claims are beyond what I had expected, and your presumption insulting, but I admit that there are advantages in your scheme as well. I shall inform you as to my decision presently.” And she curtseyed and left the room in a hurry before either man could stop her.
“Well, Richard?” Darcy asked as soon as Elizabeth had closed the door behind her. “How long before she returns to accept our offer?” His smirk was cocky and his tone taunting.
“Fitz, she is a lady. If you wish to have any success in this venture, you must learn to behave yourself. You are accustomed to dealing with merchants and enterprising men of the lower classes who wish to better themselves, but who have been trained from birth to see one such as you as their superior. You have never been tutor to one of your own class. And Miss Elizabeth is of your rank. She is a gentlewoman, born and bred, never mind that she looks and sounds like a country girl of the middle class. She knows her station, and yours, and will not put up with the nonsense you throw at your other clients.”
“Nonsense? Richard, you wound me.” He threw a hand dramatically over his heart. “I only do what I am paid to do, which is to teach them most effectively. Seeing the results, none have questioned my methods.”
“Not the methods of teaching, Darcy, but your general manner. You are rude and obnoxious, and you are proud of it.”
“I shall not change my behaviour for one impertinent chit, Richard. I refuse to put on a facade of civility to appease her. You know how I abhor deception. Being anything other than my accustomed self would merely disguise my true character.”
“Do you even know how to treat a lady, Darcy?” The colonel was growing serious. “Can you behave as a man of good character around women?”
“There is no such thing as a man of good character around women, Richard.” Darcy threw himself into the chair beside the colonel’s and took up a cup of coffee that had long since cooled. “I find that I do not rub along well with ladies at all. The moment I let a woman make friends with me, she becomes jealous and suspicious, and starts measuring me for wedding clothes. And the moment I let myself make friends with a woman, I become selfish and tyrannical.”
“You are always selfish and tyrannical,” the colonel interjected.
“Women upset everything. There is no telling what disasters may occur when you let a woman into your life.” He emitted one of his characteristic huffs. “No, if my demeanour is wanting, that is how it must be. I repeat: I refuse to put on airs to disguise my true character.”
“Then perhaps, Fitz,” the colonel stated baldly, and without a trace of a smile, “your true character is exactly what you ought to consider changing.”
Elizabeth knew she ought to return to Jane and see how she fared, but she also knew she would not be able to conceal her distress and fury, and thus set off for a brisk walk on the opposite side of the house to where Jane was most likely sitting with her Charles. She was relieved to meet no one on her walk—more of a run, really, such was the energy of her ire—although she did have to choose a different path once when she noticed Mrs. Hurst and Caroline in the far distance.
When she returned to her rooms, her hair in disarray but her temper somewhat under control, it was to find Jane sitting serenely on the chaise by the window, a throw around her pale shoulders and a book in her hands.
“You had a fight with Professor Darcy.” Jane offered the observation as a simple statement.
“You know me too well, dear sister. What gave it away?”
“You usually take better care of your hair when you walk, and almost always take a bonnet, but I can see that you have been walking much faster than usual, for your face is red and your breathing still a bit hard. You do that when you are angry. And with whom have you spoken today that would raise your ire, but the professor? Also,” she smirked, “Charles told me.”
Lizzy was about to respond with some exasperated and possibly unkind comment, but now she allowed her face to fall into a smile. “Oh, Jane, you always know what to say to cheer me up. Yes, I had words with the professor. He is most vexing! And yet, he is, perhaps, the one who can help me best with my problem. He offered a most scandalous suggestion, which I ought to outright refuse, but I must confess that it has merit. Oh, whatever shall I do?”
“Charles only heard of the argument after the fact, and with no details. Whatever did the professor say to upset you so, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth sat carefully on the chaise by her sister and tucked the throw more securely around her, then launched into a recounting of Darcy’s offer of a sham engagement as his recompense for teaching her the ways and speech of the upper classes.
“He says it will be of benefit to us both, for it will bring me into the eye of the ton and will provide me with a certain cachet once the engagement is broken. Correspondingly, it will do the exact opposite for him, which is what he desires. Tell me it is mad, that I ought to turn around and never look upon that awful man again.”
Jane let her eyes drift and lose their direct focus. One who knew her less well than Lizzy might think her to be staring vacantly into the distance, but Lizzy was intimately familiar with the subtleties of Jane’s calm features and knew her sister was thinking deeply. “It is not mad, Lizzy. It is, rather, quite ingenious. And it is, as you say, beneficial to both of you. You have already decided to accept, I can see by your face. Now you need only convince yourself that it is the right choice. Charles and I will be in Town much of the time you will be there; you know you can always come to us if you need us. And Aunt Gardiner and Lady Grant will not let you suffer either, nor will the colonel, should matters turn sour.”
“Turn sour, Jane? They could hardly have started more sour! But yes, I concede, I shall not be alone in Town. Do you really believe it the best course? Whatever will Papa say? Mother, of course, cannot know the truth, for it would be all over England within days, but we must tell Papa. He must know the real reason I am to visit so much at Netherfield, and he will eventually demand an accounting for why I have thrown over the most eligible Professor Darcy of Pemberley when that time inevitably arrives.”
“Yes, Papa must know, and our aunt and uncle, and the Grants. They can all be relied upon for their discretion. If Professor Darcy is correct in his estimations and you begin work soon, you can be out in London society shortly after Easter. That will fit well with Lady Grant’s proposal to present you in court, and you will be quite the thing once the following season begins. It really is all quite perfect, Lizzy. I think you ought to agree.”
“Perfect,” she grimaced, “except for the small detail of the annoying Professor Darcy himself! Oh, I find myself dreading a headache which will last six months.”
By the end of the following afternoon, Jane was deemed well enough to return to Longbourn, an occasion which Lizzy wished she could celebrate with greater enthusiasm. However, she knew that her return home would be temporary and of short duration. Any joyful anticipation of the promised season in London was well tempered by the certainty of the weeks and months to come in Darcy’s company.
She had informed the professor of her decision the very evening after she had spoken to Jane. Darcy had looked triumphant; the colonel quietly pleased. “I shall congratulate myself, Miss Elizabeth,” he had purred, “on my great fortune to have the chance to further our friendship.” And once more he had kissed her hand in a most genteel fashion. This was the one aspect Lizzy felt she might grow accustomed to quite easily, for it was most pleasant to be treated as such a fine lady.
Darcy had harrumphed and said, “Well, good then. Today is Saturday. We shall start Monday of next week. Be here by ten in the morning.” Then he walked out of the room. Elizabeth did not see him again that morning, or even the following day before her and Jane’s departure, except for a brief glimpse at church. For this she was thankful. As Jane spent some quiet time with Charles after services and before the carriage arrived to take them and their trunks home, Lizzy found paper and pen and wrote once more to her aunt, outlining this strange scheme and begging for her discretion.
I must tell you the truth, dear Aunt, for I should not have you under the misconception that I actually like Professor Darcy, much less that I intend to marry him, but I do beg you to keep this to yourself, my uncle, and the Grants, beseeching their secrecy as well. The whole scheme depends on it being believed completely.
Mr. Bennet, too, was brought in on the secret, of which he did not initially approve, and for a moment threatened to withhold his permission entirely. The scheme was nearly undone before it started, until Jane convinced him how greatly to Lizzy’s advantage it would be. It was only when she promised that Lizzy would have complete access to the Bingleys’ house in Town, no matter the day or hour, that he relented. The plan seemed to be set into motion.
However, a letter arrived at breakfast the next morning that set the household astir and temporarily replaced her strange plans from the forefront of Lizzy’s considerations. The letter was from a certain Mr. Collins, the young parson in line to inherit Longbourn after Mr. Bennet’s eventual demise. Mr. Bennet read the letter aloud to all present for the morning meal, a decision which might have put one or more of the ladies present off her eggs. In an obsequious and somewhat pompous manner, the young man introduced himself, apologised for being the means by which the estate would be wrested from the family, and announced his intentions to mend the rift in the family between his father and Mr. Bennet. He concluded by announcing his intention to visit. To wit, he had written that he would arrive on Monday, November 18th, by four o’clock in the afternoon.
“But Mr. Bennet,” his wife exclaimed, “that is today!”
“Indeed, Mrs. Bennet, it is. I hope, my dear, that you have ordered a good dinner today for this addition to our family party. This might be a fine thing for our girls.”
“Mr. Bennet! How unkind of you to announce this so suddenly! ‘Tis most unthoughtful of you. Have you no care for my nerves? Hill, Hill,” she cried for her housekeeper. “We must prepare! Oh, there is so much to be done. My poor nerves!”
Suddenly she stopped and turned her gaze to her husband, narrowing her eyes. “What, Mr. Bennet, did you mean by saying ‘this might be a fine thing for our girls?’”
“Nothing, my dear, other than that I believe he means to marry one of them.” He tossed off these words with an air of indifference, but Lizzy could see the glint in his eye that suggested he knew precisely the effect his pronouncement would have. Neither she nor her father was disappointed.
“Marry one of them! Oh! La! Girls, girls, you must prepare! Oh, what a pity Jane is already engaged, for she would suit admirably. Perhaps Lizzy… she is sensible enough to be a clergyman’s wife, if not as pretty as Jane. All of you, be sure to wear your finest frocks, for if this young man takes a liking to one of you, we may keep Longbourn! Lydia, you look to best advantage in pink, and Kitty, in blue. Mary suits green, but not the dress with the ribbon, but rather the one with the lace. Lizzy, you must wear your yellow gown, for you look well in it! Perhaps Mr. Collins will choose to marry you, and then we will all be saved!” How conveniently she forgot about the wealthy Mr. Bingley, now that a lifetime at Longbourn was in sight.
Lizzy exchanged an anxious glance with her father. She knew him well and knew that he shared her thoughts. She would not be at home for dinner, and further, she would soon announce her engagement to Professor Darcy. But they could not divulge this information to Mrs. Bennet! Her silent plea was met with a quiet nod and twitch of her father’s lip.
“My dear,” Mr. Bennet said after a moment of thought, “Lizzy has had an invitation from Miss Bingley today, and she has already agreed to dine there. We can hardly ask her to refuse the invitation now, after food has been ordered and plans made. Miss Bingley would take it as a cut, and we do wish to remain on the best of terms with Jane’s future sister, do we not?”
Lizzy could almost see the visions of Mr. Bingley’s grand house and his grand carriages and grand ballroom dancing about her mother’s head, replacing the sentimental notion of remaining forever at Longbourn, and Mrs. Bennet immediately cried, “No, of course, Lizzy must go! But why does she not also ask for Jane? Jane is five times prettier than Lizzy, and she is to marry Miss Bingley’s brother. Surely she meant to invite Jane instead.”
“No, Mama,” Jane said softly. “Caroline wishes to know Elizabeth better, and I am still recovering and wish to spend a quiet day at home. Lizzy shall go to Netherfield, and we will all explain her absence to Mr. Collins.”
“That we shall,” was Mr. Bennet’s final word, and he immediately made a great show of calling for the carriage to take Elizabeth to her destination, and set her on the first step towards her new life.
Elizabeth was ushered into the small study at the far end of the library at exactly ten o’clock. She had arrived some several minutes early, but Forbes, the butler, had requested that she wait in the morning room until precisely the correct time. He opened the door to the study, announced her, and then withdrew, closing the door behind him. Lizzy was left alone with the dark figure behind the desk by the window.
“Good. You are not late,” he offered by way of a greeting. “Sit down, Eliza, and let us begin.”
“I am very well, thank you, Professor Darcy. Thank you for asking,” Elizabeth uttered pointedly. “I did indeed have a most pleasant morning. I hope you were able to enjoy the fine weather before I arrived to keep you at work all day.”
Darcy stared at her. “I did not ask you how you were, nor did I inquire about your morning.”
“No, and you ought to have done so!” She challenged him with her own fixed gaze. “You claim to be able to teach me the manners of Town, but you show none yourself. Am I, rather, to teach proper behaviour to you? Perhaps I ought to halve my payment, and only agree to be courted by you, rather than be acknowledged as your betrothed.”
“You are accustomed to speaking your mind, Eliza.”
“I am accustomed to being treated with the respect due my station. If that involves being outspoken, then yes, I confess, I shall not refrain from speaking my mind! And if you will not treat me as a lady, perhaps it is I who should teach you proper manners!”
Elizabeth expected the professor to anger at this statement. If she was unaccustomed to being treated with disrespect, he must be a hundred times more so. His haughty manner and studied rudeness bespoke a man who accepted correction or chastisement from nobody. But to her great surprise, instead of growing red and exploding at her, the professor began to laugh. His frown dissolved into mirth as his eyes crinkled at the corners, and a deep rich chuckle emerged from his throat. She had heard this laugh once before, and while it disconcerted her for reasons she could not identify, she found it somewhat appealing as well. It hinted at aspects to his character that he did not ordinarily show to the world.
“Well, well, well. The kitten has claws. Richard was right after all. Very well, Eliza.” He stood up and walked around the desk to greet her properly. Bowing to the perfect degree, he intoned in his perfect diction, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, how delightful to see you this morning. I do hope you are well and have spent a pleasant morning thus far.” There was something genuine in his smile, a glint of real amusement replacing the accustomed sardonic look in his eyes.
Elizabeth returned his smile with one of her own. “There, that was not so bad, was it Professor Darcy? And how are you today?”
“Ready to get to work,” came the curt response. The curmudgeon had returned. “Let us begin with vowels. Yours are not unaccountably awful by general standards, and of course, the local dialect varies only slightly—to the common ear, at least—from the accents of the greater London region, mainly up the estuary, but your vowels do exhibit some influence from the Buckinghamshire dialects and tend alarmingly towards rhotacisation. This must be corrected. Say your vowels.”
“If you were a gentleman, you might ask me to sit down, before flinging terms and ideas at me that I cannot begin at this point to comprehend.”
Darcy sighed and rolled his eyes. “Indeed. Would you like to sit, Miss Eliza?” She sat. “There, now—as for those vowels….”
“Are you always this rude, Professor Darcy? Do you never take a moment to say something pleasant, to try to learn a little about your students, before starting your lesson?”
He looked quite puzzled. “No. Why on earth should I do that? It seems a complete waste of time.”
“You are a most perplexing man, Professor.”
“Thank you,” he replied. “Now, as I mentioned, while your accent is not as bad as some, it is hardly suitable for society. We will work, and work hard. Remember: You are a human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech. Your native language is the language of Shakespeare and Milton and the Bible…”
“I believe the Bible was first written in Hebrew and Greek, sir.”
“Indeed.” His answer was cold. “But we did it better.”
To this, Lizzy could only stare in disbelief. “Are you always so proud, sir?”
“I have every right to be proud. Where there is real superiority, pride will be always under good regulation.”
Lizzy opened her mouth, then closed it again immediately. Finding herself in the quite unusual position of being unable to think of a single arch comment in reply, she decided to give up this train of conversation. “I believe, sir, it is time to commence with my vowels.”