Is Esteem Enough
A Pride and Prejudice Variation Novella
Renata McMann
Cover by Summer Hanford
In memory of Nancy Simanek
I knew her for less than a year but considered her a good friend.
I only regret that I hadn’t met her earlier.
If she had proofread this, it wouldn’t have mistakes.
Copyright 2020 by Renata McMann
Probably most people who buy this book will do so because they’ve read books jointly written by Renata McMann and Summer Hanford. Summer hasn’t even read this version of Is Esteem Enough? She only read the original version, which I have modified extensively.
We have not broken up. We plan to write together again, but Summer didn’t like this book and put it aside. Since doing so, she worked on our joint projects, After Anne, and Their Secret Love, but this book didn’t appeal to her. As I write this, she is working on a fantasy series, but plans to start on our joint project tentatively called, Mr. Collins Will in early 2021.
With Summer doing other things, and me wanting to keep busy, I worked on Is Esteem Enough? which I’m offering for $0.99 because it isn’t the quality of our jointly written books. I’ve left things that would have been lost if Summer had rewritten and expanded it. When I write a first draft, at the beginning of each section, I put the name of the person whose point of view is used, because it helps keep me from switching the point of view. I’ve left these in, even though this makes for some very short sections. I’ve numbered them, but some are too short to qualify as chapters.
Is Esteem Enough? is a novella about 25,000 words in length.
Renata McMann
Mr. Hurst’s residence was in a very fashionable neighborhood, but his house was small enough so that Charles Bingley was given a tiny bedroom when he visited his older sister Louisa Hurst. His younger sister, Caroline, had a larger bedroom, which at least had a chair as well as a bed. Charles half lay on his sister’s bed, since it was more comfortable than the hard chair. He wanted privacy for this conversation.
“You leased a house in Hertfordshire?” Caroline asked. “What’s in Hertfordshire?”
“Netherfield Park. It’s the largest house in the neighborhood and the most elegant. You’ll love it. You will keep house for me. Louisa will visit at first to help you if you need it.”
“But if it’s the largest and most elegant house, what kind of people will we meet?”
“People with smaller, less elegant houses,” Charles said smirking.
“Why? In London we can meet richer and better-connected people. The right people.”
“In London, I am nobody.”
“Nobody? You’re rich.”
“I am the wealthy son of a tradesman and I was given a gentleman’s education, just as you and Louisa were educated at one of the best seminaries and each inherited a dowry that daughters of barons would envy. Don’t tell me you haven’t felt the sting of not being accepted despite having more money and accomplishments than some earl’s daughters.” He saw agreement in her expression. “I may be able to marry someone wealthy with connections, but I will always be looked down upon. I don’t want that. I would rather be the big fish in the small pound. Hertfordshire fits that perfectly.”
“I want to move up. It sounds like I will have no chance to do so in Hertfordshire.”
Charles shrugged. “It is possible you can. I’ll be delighted if you do so, but I am not going to help you at my expense. I’ve spent a great deal of effort making just enough London connections to impress the people who live near Netherfield Park.”
Caroline scoffed. “No matter what you tell people, they will eventually find out you are faking. Unless you produce some of these people, you will be disbelieved.”
“Don’t worry. I will be bringing someone who will impress them. I don’t know how he’ll behave, but it doesn’t matter. If he’s gracious, so much the better. If he’s not, well, the wealthy and connected have their whims. He’s very believable. Impressive.”
“Darcy? You have Darcy coming to Hertfordshire?” Caroline said the last word like it was a disease.
A genuine smile came to Charles Bingley’s face. “After all, I endured Pemberley for six weeks.” Bingley had planned this carefully. Bingley did not need to tell his sister that his cultivation of Darcy was less to do with enjoyment of his company than his position in society. Not that Darcy was bad company, but he didn’t like to spend his time the same way Bingley did.
“Endured? You insisted that Louisa and I stop for only two days on our way north. Darcy would have been happy to have us for a week or more.”
“No, he wouldn’t have. He would tolerate you for a week for my sake. Darcy likes people to praise his sister or his home, but he can only take so much of it. I’ve worked hard to be the ideal companion. While I was there, I read more books than I usually read in two years. I felt like I was back at school. I had to pay attention to what I read because Darcy wanted to talk about it. No matter what book I picked from his shelves, it turned out he had read it. We took many walks and rides; I learned to fish; we visited tenant cottages. We usually spent quiet evenings with just the two of us, not talking except when we read an interesting passage. It wouldn’t have been bad for a week, but for six weeks? It was boring.”
Bingley turned and looked at his sister. “I was the perfect guest, doing what Darcy wanted to do. I talked when he wanted to talk and otherwise was silent. I believe we made less than a dozen calls in those weeks and received a similar number. If it weren’t for the good food and excellent cellar, you would have thought we were in a monastery.”
“But it’s Darcy of Pemberley! You stayed for six weeks. You wouldn’t let me stay for more than two days,” Caroline repeated her complaint.
“So? All I achieved is the friendship of a very wealthy man who has noble connections, but little inclination to invite me to meet his relatives.”
“But you have met some of them,” Caroline insisted.
“Yes, but Darcy only introduces me to those people he wants to spend time with. We’ve attended a few dinners at the Earl of Matlock’s London residence. In fairness, they didn’t treat me like scum as some nobles do, but he and his wife weren’t taken with me. Oh, we got along, but they would never invite me to stay at their country estate and would never visit me in Hertfordshire. In fact, if I weren’t Darcy’s friend, they would never extend another invitation unless it was a large party. It’s a dead end. I’m not pursuing it.”
“Well, I am pursuing Darcy. He’s my best chance to be rich and well-connected.”
“You’re wasting your time. He’ll never marry you.”
“I think I have a chance.” Caroline frowned thoughtfully. “Why don’t you marry Darcy’s sister?”
“She doesn’t like me. She’s right not to, you know. I would make her a bad husband. I wouldn’t appreciate all her accomplishments and would insist she entertain often. I want someone who will make guests feel welcome. She’s too shy, and that will be interpreted as pride. She would make me a terrible wife, dowry and connections aside.”
“You can’t put dowry and connections aside,” Caroline said.
“Yes, I can. I have enough money to live the life I want to live and even save a bit each year. I want to be liked and looked up to. The fact that Miss Georgiana Darcy has a cousin who is an earl and a brother with an impressive estate is not what I want in a wife if she can’t make guests feel welcome.”
“What do you want in a wife?” Caroline said bitterly.
“Someone from the neighborhood so people will understand that I choose to live among them and marry one of them. Someone in love with me. Someone whose manners, good nature, and beauty are the envy of my London acquaintances.”
The assembly was as bad as Darcy had anticipated. There were property owners, barely deserving the rank of gentlemen, mixed with a few tradesmen’s daughters trying to attract someone with property, and farmers’ sons hoping to find a wealthy bride. Admittedly, a few were coming just to enjoy the evening, like Bingley and his party. Everyone in his party that wasn’t Darcy.
Bingley liked company and enjoyed dancing with virtual strangers, but he knew Darcy was uncomfortable meeting too many people at once. Bingley asked Darcy to come because he liked to show off his connection to a wealthy landowner. Bingley was good company and Darcy was willing to put up with a few of his whims for that.
Bingley’s two sisters, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, enjoyed being the most fashionable and most expensively dressed women in the room. Darcy never heard Mr. Hurst, brag about his connections but somehow people discovered that his maternal grandfather was a viscount and his father’s maternal grandfather was an earl. Darcy sometimes wondered if Mr. Hurst encouraged his valet to pass the information to other servants.
Bingley also didn’t brag openly, but somehow everyone he met quickly learned of the background of his party. Darcy didn’t like being on display. Bingley knew that, yet he arranged to go to the assembly. He decided to punish Bingley by being as obnoxious as possible. He would let others see Bingley for someone who picked his guests by their standing in society, not by what kind of person they were. As to his own reputation here, what did it matter?
It bothered Darcy a little to do that. When he was alone with him, Bingley was a pleasant companion. There was no malice in him. If he wasn’t seriously inconvenienced, he did everything he could to make those around him happy. He liked almost everyone and was usually liked in return. Darcy had given in to Bingley but wanted a few other people to see what values Bingley had. It seemed a just return for subjecting Darcy to this so-called entertainment so soon after their arrival.
Darcy supposed he could have stayed at Netherfield Park, but Bingley had cheerfully fallen into every suggestion that Darcy made while they were at Pemberley. Maybe he could persuade Bingley not to arrange such outings. Darcy only danced with Bingley’s sisters. He did enjoy watching the dancing. One woman enchanted him. She was light on her feet and when she danced her face shone with joy. Although she was perhaps not the best dancer in the room nor the most beautiful woman, her combination of grace and joy made her entrancing.
"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."
"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner.” Darcy had previously made this point to Bingley. Sometimes he wondered if Bingley didn’t listen or just wanted to shame Darcy into being willing to be put on display for Bingley’s benefit. “At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."
"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Mr. Bingley, "for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."
"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet. All right, that was a lie, but very fastidious people would agree with it. Bingley’s partner was conventionally beautiful, but the woman he had been watching was beautiful partly because of her elegance and enthusiasm.
"Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."
"Which do you mean?" and turning around he looked for a moment at the woman he’d been watching, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me.” Surely someone as beautiful and joyous as she was would be confident enough not to be hurt by his statement. “I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."
He felt guilty about that. He should not insult anyone gratuitously, and this woman had done nothing to harm him or anyone. He could have refused to dance with her without insulting her. Or, he could have danced with her and probably enjoyed himself. No. Then he would have had to dance with other women so that he didn’t raise her expectations. He didn’t want to be cruel.
He wondered if he was becoming like his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She antagonized so many people that almost no one called on her. She did it so much, it almost seemed deliberate. He was more like her daughter, Anne, who appeared indifferent to society. Or was he? He had no idea what Anne was like. She almost never said anything. Darcy didn’t speak much in large parties, but he was comfortable in small groups. No, he wasn’t like Anne. Thank goodness.
Elizabeth wanted to go home. She liked Mr. Bingley and wanted to give Jane an opportunity to be with him, since they were partial to each other, but the others were intolerable. The worst was Mr. Darcy, whose contempt for Elizabeth and her friends and neighbors was shown by his behavior at the assembly. Elizabeth attempted to repay that contempt by arguing with him whenever he said something she disagreed with. She doubted she had any impact, but it gave her a certain satisfaction.
Elizabeth had been caring for Jane, who became sick when visiting Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Elizabeth had walked three miles to see how her sister was doing and stayed to care for her. Now her father’s carriage was going to come and take them home. Thank goodness.
She and Jane were packed and ready, but no one came at the appointed time. They were in a sitting room near the front door. Elizabeth’s sister Jane, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and Miss Bingley held a desultory conversation while they waited. The Hursts hadn’t even left their rooms yet. Instead of a carriage, Elizabeth heard a lone horseman arrive. Curiosity made Elizabeth want to run to the foyer and see who it was, but a desire to show herself as knowing how to behave kept her in her seat, and made her try to appear unaware of the visitor.
“Hugo to see the Miss Bennets,” the butler announced. Hugo was a groom who worked for Elizabeth’s and Jane’s family.
“Begging your pardon, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, but the road is washed out near the Oakham Road. It’s not safe to bring the carriage here and Mr. Bennet requests you be allowed to stay another day.”
Jane glanced at their hostess, Miss Bingley, who said, “How did you get here?”
“Across country,” Hugo said. “There’s ways without roads. A carriage can’t go those ways.”
“Thank you for your information,” Mr. Bingley said. “Tell Mr. Bennet we will take care of the Miss Bennets.” Hugo bowed and left.
“I’m sorry to impose on you further,” Elizabeth said with feeling. She did not mention she felt she was the one imposed upon, but recognized she had no right to feel that way.
“It’s no imposition,” Mr. Bingley said, looking at Jane.
“I don’t like to inconvenience you anymore,” Jane said. “Two extra guests must be a burden to your staff.”
“Charles,” Miss Bingley said to her brother, “surely your carriage can get through.”
“The information we were given says the problem was with the road, not the carriage,” Mr. Darcy said.
“There are other roads.” When no one answered, Miss Bingley continued, “Does anyone have a map?”
A map was found, and the gentlemen poured over it. Elizabeth and Jane were consulted, and they agreed that a suggested route was possible in dry weather, but they had no idea of what it would be like with the heavy rains they had been having.
“I estimate the route is seven or eight miles,” Mr. Darcy said.
“It should take you less than an hour,” Miss Bingley opined.
Elizabeth had misgivings. She worried if a local road was washed out, there might be other places where the roads were impassable.
“It’s not safe,” Mr. Darcy said. “I’ll go with the Miss Bennets to see that they get there.” That was odd. Who would have thought Mr. Darcy would care about her and her sister?
“And I’ll go with them to support them,” Miss Bingley said with a manner that suggested she was doing something noble.
What support could she possibly give? No one voiced the opinion that Miss Bingley was unlikely to be of any help. Nor did they mention that the return trip would leave her alone in the closed carriage with Mr. Darcy, which would be improper. She glanced at Mr. Darcy and his frown made her suspect he had already considered that.
“I’ll go too,” Mr. Bingley said unexpectedly. “The two of us should be there to help if anything goes wrong, and the three women are thin enough to sit together.”
Not comfortably, Elizabeth thought when she sat crammed between Jane and Miss Bingley, with her personal possessions on her lap. She envied the two gentleman who sat opposite her with space between them. It was not raining when they left, but the rain started before the horses were trotting. It was pouring soon afterward.
“I don’t remember this bridge,” Mr. Darcy said as the horses carefully went over a small wooden bridge that was over a stream, which was now nearly the height of the bridge.
The rain became too heavy to see well. The slowly plodding horses took them to a place where water covered the road. Miss Bingley wanted to move on. “Surely the water can’t be as high as the axle of the carriage wheels,” she said.
“It’s not safe,” Darcy said, overruling her. “Even if the water isn’t deep, we are likely to get bogged down in the mud.”
“I’m glad you came to take care of us,” Miss Bingley replied.
Elizabeth thought that the only care Miss Bingley needed was something keeping her from eagerly getting rid of her unwanted guests at the expense of everyone’s safety.
It took the coachman a long time to turn the carriage around in the small space. When they returned to the bridge, it too was covered with water.
“We should cross it anyway,” Miss Bingley said. “I want to go home.”
So, do I, Elizabeth thought.
“We don’t even know if the bridge is there. It’s not safe,” Mr. Darcy said decisively.
It took even longer to turn the carriage around again. They slowly went down the rutted, muddy road, looking for someplace to stop. The driver turned down a narrow track that led to a farmhouse. Darcy jumped out of the carriage and knocked on the door. He was admitted. While they waited for what must have been nearly a quarter of an hour, Elizabeth realized her position in the center was now the most desirable one, since it was the warmest.
When Mr. Darcy returned to the carriage, seven people left the house and headed for the barn, carrying bundles. “We can stay here for the night. The family will sleep in their barn.”
Jane and Elizabeth carried their possessions into the house, which contained two rooms. The room where people slept contained a loft. A small fire was in the home’s sole fireplace in the room that contained the kitchen. Mr. Bingley added a log. Miss Bingley and Jane stood by the fire. Elizabeth rummaged through her clothing and found a shawl, which she wrapped around Jane’s shoulders.
Jane went to her luggage and found her shawl. With a glance at Elizabeth, who nodded, she gave Miss Bingley Elizabeth’s shawl and used her own. Elizabeth smiled wryly, as she looked at Jane and then at Miss Bingley. Her clothing would not fit either Miss Bingley or Jane, but Miss Bingley was a bit thinner than Jane, although taller. She could wear Jane’s clothes.
Darcy left the cottage to see to the servants. He found the horses had been rubbed down and in the barn. Both the coachman and groom were wet to the skin. It was not reasonable for them to stay in the barn with wet clothing, although it was warmer than outside due to the presence of the animals and the family consisting of a grandmother, two parents, and four children, with the oldest being perhaps twelve or thirteen.
“Are you all warm enough?” he asked the farmer.
“Yes.”
“My servants are coming with me into the house. Do you have enough food for your family?”
“Enough for three days. We’ve agreed you can eat any food and burn any firewood that’s in the house. We have a root cellar, which you would have to pay more to take from.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Darcy said. He turned to the two men. He remembered the coachman’s name was Simon but didn’t know if that was a first or last name. “Simon and, uh, what is your name?”
“Jacob, sir.”
“Come with me.” The rain was still falling, but it wasn’t heavy. When they came into the house, discarding their muddy boots at the doorway, three of four other occupants of the carriage were crowding around the fire. Bingley was front and center, flanked by his sister and Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth seemed to be wearing a dressing gown and nightgown. Further inspection revealed she had donned these over her clothes. Her cloak was laid out to dry with the others’ outer garments.
“Forgive how I am dressed,” she said as she saw him take in her garments, “but it seemed sensible to take advantage of the warm garments that are available.”
“It is,” he said. “The others should do what they can to dress similarly.” Darcy turned to Bingley. “Simon and Jacob are soaked to the skin and they should remove their clothing and let it dry by the fire. I’ll get them each a blanket from the bedroom to keep them warm while we retire to the other room. Once their clothes are dry, they can sleep in the loft. I believe one of the beds is large enough for the three women.”
“Two blankets for each,” Miss Elizabeth said with a sweep of her hand indicating Simon and Jacob. She picked up her cloak. Darcy took Simon’s cloak and laid it out where Elizabeth removed hers. Miss Bennet took her cloak and luggage. She also picked up Bingley’s great coat.
Darcy handed Miss Bingley her cloak, which had covered the table.
“It’s wet. It should stay here to dry,” she insisted while laying it back on the table.
“No,” Darcy said retrieving her cloak, which was merely damp. He thought it obvious that nearly every surface in the room would be covered by the clothing of Bingley’s two servants. Servants who worked outdoors generally wore as many layers as they could afford.
Elizabeth and Jane led the way into the bedroom. There were two beds, a very narrow one, presumably for the grandmother and a wider one, for the farmer and his wife. The children probably slept in the loft. There were five blankets on the two beds. He grabbed four of them over Miss Bingley’s protest and brought them to the room where Simon and Jacob were undressing. Simon was doing a reasonable job, but Jacob, who was just a lad and small, had difficulty because his hands were too cold, and he was shivering.
Jacob was embarrassed when Darcy helped him, but Darcy finally got him seated by the fire. By the time Jacob was wrapped in two blankets, Simon had tied his blankets to free his hands and held clothing near the fire to dry it faster. Darcy started to leave but answered the front door when someone knocked. The farmer limped in with a load of firewood.
“Thank you, Mr. Portendorfer,” Darcy said, pulling up the farmer’s name from memory. He got an odd look from the farmer. “Did I get your name wrong?”
“No. You got it right. Hardly anyone does. I had no brothers, nor did my father or grandfather. I have four daughters. I’m worried the name will die out. For that courtesy, you deserve another load of firewood.” Darcy looked at him oddly, and Mr. Portendorfer explained, “you only paid for what’s in the house. Those were your terms. It looks like you’ll be here overnight, and I was doing this to remind you the woodpile isn’t yours. You promised no damage, so you won’t be burning my furniture.”
Darcy wondered if he should be insulted that Mr. Portendorfer felt it necessary to remind him of that. Mr. Portendorfer brought in a third load “for your servants.”
Upon returning to the bedroom, Darcy was met by Miss Bingley with the complaint, “Charles checked the loft, and all the children’s blankets are gone.” Miss Bennet and Elizabeth were huddled together, and Charles Bingley was pacing the floor.
“I told them to take them,” Darcy said, mildly annoyed at Miss Bingley’s assumption that he would leave the children without blankets.
“But you paid them,” she complained.
“How much did you pay them?” Bingley asked.
“Enough to get their cooperation,” Darcy said. In fact, they would have taken them in as guests without any money, although with some reluctance. They probably would have been relegated to the barn, which had the advantage of being dry and warmer than outside. The reluctance would be because they were concerned that feeding strangers would put a genuine strain on their budget. They were having a particularly hard time, since Mr. Portendorfer was lame. Darcy’s questions found the neighbors were a distance away across muddy fields. Darcy’s paying them was to give them money without damaging their pride. Also, he admitted to himself, to keep Miss Bingley’s behavior from offending their hosts. He did not want to be embarrassed by their complaints or be able to try to get Miss Bingley to accept that they were there as guests and only should get what their hosts offered.
It was odd that he knew Miss Bingley would behave badly, while the Bennet sisters would behave well.
They had been there for hours and the rain hadn’t let up. It wasn’t heavy anymore, but at the very least it would have to stop raining before the road would be clear. Miss Bingley was dressed in layers of Jane’s clothing and somehow had the only blanket in the room wrapped around her. Mr. Bingley wore his greatcoat in the room with the fire, but there was an unspoken agreement that the women should not be in the same room with servants who were only dressed in blankets. Mr. Darcy’s greatcoat was spread across Elizabeth and Jane, who huddled together. Mr. Darcy kept warm by pacing rapidly in the small space.
Simon came into the room, dressed, carrying four blankets. “We can move the bed now,” Simon said. “We’re dry.” The four men moved the larger bed into the other room, allowing the women to sleep in privacy near the only fire.
Elizabeth was too concerned about her situation to be uncomfortably hungry, but she realized it had been many hours since anyone had eaten. She said to the room in general when the bed was being moved, “I understand there is food we may use. Does anyone know how to cook in a fireplace?”
“Of course not,” Miss Bingley exclaimed angrily.
Jane shook her head.
“I do,” said Jacob.
“You do?” Darcy asked, pleased. “Jacob, you’ve just become our cook.”
Jacob started rummaging through the farmer’s cooking area for food and cookware. Elizabeth’s offer to help was accepted. She was surprised how confident Jacob had become with this task. He was hesitant to tell her what to do, but she said softly to him, “If you don’t tell me and show me what to do, I won’t be helpful. Pretend I’m your younger sister.”
“I don’t have a younger sister,” he said softly. “I only cooked because I’m the youngest of five boys and my mother was ill.” Elizabeth doubted either of them were heard over Miss Bingley’s complaints.
Miss Bingley’s complaints were down to a whine. Her latest complaint was that the fire was down to glowing coals and Miss Elizabeth and Jacob were blocking the heat. Darcy had to restrain himself from telling Miss Bingley that she could take over Miss Elizabeth’s place stirring the pot.
Bingley did not restrain himself. “If you build up the fire now, we won’t have enough wood for tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night!” Miss Bingley exclaimed. “We’re leaving first thing in the morning.”
Bingley looked at his sister in disgust. Miss Bennet spoke softly. “Miss Bingley, if it is still raining tomorrow, there is no point in trying to leave.
“How dare you try to stop me from leaving,” Miss Bingley yelled. She turned to Miss Bennet. “This is all your fault. If you hadn’t insisted on leaving, I would never have been stuck here.”
Miss Bennet cringed at Miss Bingley’s unwarranted attack and didn’t defend herself. Darcy waited for Bingley to defend Miss Bennet, but he didn’t.
“I believe you were the one who suggested we leave,” Miss Elizabeth said calmly. She was dishing out stew into wooden bowls. Miss Bennet came and took two bowls, giving one to each of the Bingleys. Darcy and Simon received the next two bowls.
The stew was surprisingly good. Darcy had eaten worse at gentlemen’s tables. When all were satisfied, Miss Elizabeth asked Darcy, “Could you help me bring the remainder of the stew out to the family? There are enough ingredients to make more tomorrow if we need it.”
Miss Bingley said, “Surely, the carriage can make it out tomorrow.” Everyone ignored her statement.
Darcy and Elizabeth carried the remaining stew and the freshly washed bowls to the Portendorfers. Elizabeth learned the names of the children and complimented Mrs. Portendorfer about her home. Darcy asked Mr. Portendorfer about his leg and found he had been kicked by a cow and his knee never healed completely.
Each Portendorfer received perhaps half a cup of stew. The grandmother said, “We just ate a while ago, but I wouldn’t want this to go to waste.” She took a bite and frowned, “Did you bring any other ingredients with you? This is very good.”
“No. We used what you had,” Elizabeth said.
When they returned to the house, Miss Bingley said, “Where’s Miss Bennet?”
“She didn’t come with us,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth dashed into the other room with Darcy behind her. They found her in bed. Jane had just recovered from having a high fever. Darcy wasn’t surprised she slept.
“I didn’t want to bother anyone, and I was tired,” she explained. Darcy thought she looked rather guilty. For that matter, Bingley looked relieved.
“I’m afraid of heights,” Bingley said.
“Really?” Darcy replied. He explored a ruined castle with Bingley once. They had climbed onto the rampart and looked over the remainder of the fortifications. Darcy did not remember him showing the slightest sign of fear while they were there.
“Only, when I sleep. Well, when I’m trying to sleep. I keep feeling I’m going to fall.”
Darcy looked at the small bed that presumably was for the grandmother. It was definitely too narrow for two people. He climbed the ladder to the loft and could see little justification for nervousness, since the mattresses were on the floor and tucked next to the wall. Darcy looked at the longest mattress. He supposed if he curled up, he could sleep on it. He was more in danger of bumping his head on the slanting ceiling than falling off the edge. There was a railing as well, but it was obviously designed to keep children from falling, not adults. He agreed to take the longest bed up here, leaving Simon and Jacob, who were much shorter than Darcy, to use the other two beds.
Jacob spent some time in the kitchen, saying he needed to prepare something for breakfast. Elizabeth helped him. Eventually, Simon went to the barn to check on the horses and returned as the sun was setting. Being November, sunset came early. Simon and Jacob said they would go to bed.
“They must have candles somewhere,” Miss Bingley said. No one responded. She rummaged through their things and came up with a small supply of tallow candles.
She lit one and started to light a second one, when Elizabeth said, “Don’t. We may need them tomorrow or the day after.”
“The day after!” Miss Bingley screeched. “There is no way we are staying here three nights!”
“If it is raining hard for tomorrow and the next day, we’ll have to stay. Don’t make things worse. It’s bad enough as they are.”
Miss Bingley handed the candle to Miss Bennet. Cynically, Darcy thought that she was the one person who would accept it without question. While Miss Bingley went on a tirade blaming everyone but herself, Elizabeth stood up and took the candle from Miss Bennet who already had winced as the candled sputtered leaving hot tallow on her hand. Elizabeth used the candle to look through the kitchen supplies, ignoring Miss Bingley’s complaint she was blocking the light. She found something she used as a candle holder. Putting the candle on a stool in the middle of the room, she sat down again.
The lone candle gave little light. Darcy realized he tended to stare at it, making the dark shadows in the room all that much darker.
No one responded to Miss Bingley’s complaints for several minutes. She finally stopped talking. After a long silence, Elizabeth said, “Miss Bingley, I understand the Hursts have a house on Grosvenor Street. I’ve visited my uncle on Gracechurch Street, but am not familiar with Grosvenor Street. Where is it and what is it like?”
This started a conversation between the three women. Miss Bingley enumerated all the wealthy and titled people who lived near the Hursts, which Miss Bennet and Elizabeth implied an interest in by their questions. When a lull in the conversation occurred, Elizabeth asked Miss Bingley about the latest London fashions. They talked on that topic longer than Darcy could imagine anyone could care about it. When that topic was finally exhausted, Miss Bingley started bragging about her London connections that didn’t live near the Hurst’s residence, including, to Darcy’s amusement, Darcy’s cousin Lord Matlock.
Darcy recognized what the Bennet sisters were doing. It shouldn’t have been necessary, but they were trying to make Miss Bingley feel better about her situation. Although Darcy had reached the stage where Miss Bingley’s complaints warranted no more attention than the sound of the wind through the trees, he appreciated the effort. Even the wind could be annoying.
Elizabeth asked him a question about men’s fashions. He doubted she had the slightest interest in it, but today, he would be polite. He answered and continued contributing to the conversation. Darcy was pleased when Bingley joined in when Miss Bingley resumed enumerating some of the people she knew in London. It took some effort to appear interested. What did he care if Miss Bingley once danced with an heir to an earldom or was on bowing terms with the cousin of a duke?
But the flattering attention that kept Miss Bingley from complaining wasn’t enough to keep her from saying unkind things that annoyed Darcy. She complained she missed having tea, not realizing tea was a luxury farmers could not afford.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter to them enough,” Miss Bingley said. “They probably don’t really care if they have tea. Just as they don’t care about learning to read.”
“Food, clothing, and shelter have a higher priority,” Darcy couldn’t resist saying.
“Come now, surely if they put their minds to it, they could learn to read and write. There are better ways of earning their living than working on a small farm.”
“They would have to buy paper, ink, and books as well as get someone to teach them with no realistic expectation of finding a better position,” Elizabeth said. “This farm is very well run considering the difficulties they have.”
“Their difficulties are that they are poor and stupid,” Miss Bingley said. “They don’t deserve better because they aren’t better.”
“I would have thought that cattle would be a better choice than goats,” Darcy said, “but they seem to be doing a reasonable job with what they have.”
“They have a problem since they have one man and six women. One woman is elderly, and the girls aren’t big enough to do many jobs. To make matters worse, the man is lame. Things are in surprisingly good shape for their circumstances,” Elizabeth said.
Darcy supposed he might have come to Elizabeth’s completely correct assessment if the Portendorfers had been his tenants, but it hadn’t occurred to him. Mr. Portendorfer said he was kicked by a cow but didn’t own one. He might have sold it and bought goats, which could be handled by the women in the family. He was oddly embarrassed that Elizabeth realized that, and he didn’t.
“Farmers are generally stupid,” Miss Bingley said. “That’s why they are farmers.”
“They are farmers because their parents were farmers,” Darcy said.
“There are smart people and stupid people in every class,” Elizabeth said, “and I believe we are smart enough to go to bed soon,”
But bedtime held no appeal for Darcy. He ended up sleeping in the loft on a very uncomfortable mattress. If he lay on his back, his feet were on the floor. There was a ridge down the center of the mattress. He suspected two children slept in it, creating the ridge. His great cloak wasn’t quite adequate to keep him warm. He finally fell asleep and awoke to the smell of fresh baked bread. There was butter, and that was breakfast. The bread was unusually good. Darcy could taste both walnuts and apples in the bread. Jacob had made the bread the previous day and Elizabeth put it in a Dutch oven set on coals when the women woke up.
While Simon and Jacob went to check on the horses, Darcy asked Bingley, “Would you mind if I hired Jacob?”
“Jacob?”
“Your groom. The one who cooked.”
“Not at all. He’s not a good groom probably because he is so small. He’s not tall enough to be a footman. I believe he was hired because two of his older brothers are already working for me. I was planning to let him go at the end of the quarter.”
Jacob was surprisingly hesitant to change employers because he wanted to be near his family, but he agreed after Darcy said he would arrange for Jacob to visit his family at least once every other year. Darcy saw a puzzled look from Elizabeth when he made that concession. He would not take advantage of his knowledge that Bingley planned to let Jacob go. Darcy had no intention of having Jacob as a groom, but he planned to have Jacob trained as a cook. He was looking forward to what Jacob could do when cooking with a closed stove.
The rain stopped, but the clouds remained threatening. Simon said, “Mr. Portendorfer said there is a track that he could show us that would get us back to Netherfield Park. A carriage couldn’t go, but a horse could. He would walk with us for a short distance and tell us how to get to the road. Once we hit the road, it would be easy to get to Netherfield Park. One horse could be led and could hold two people at a walk for that distance.”
“Why not use both horses?” Miss Bingley said. “Miss Elizabeth can walk. She’s such a good walker.”
Simon said, “The other horse has never been ridden and is hard to handle in the stable. I don’t think he would be safe to ride.”
“How far is it to Netherfield Park?” Bingley asked.
“Mr. Portendorfer estimates it is around five miles,” Jacob replied. “He said many places will be muddy, and there is a creek you have to walk across, but the creek shouldn’t be much higher than the knees even with the rain.”
“Could someone come back with extra horses?” Elizabeth asked.
“Mr. Portendorfer said that he doubted they’d be able to find the way back,” Jacob said. “No one in his family, other than him, knows the way.” What was unspoken was that Mr. Portendorfer could not walk far with his injured leg.
“Jane and Miss Bingley can ride the horse with someone leading it,” Elizabeth said. “I can walk five miles or more and am willing to cross the stream, but I wouldn’t be as fast as a horse. Mr. Bingley or Mr. Darcy can walk with me.”
“You would only slow us down,” Mr. Bingley said. “It is my responsibility to see that my sister gets home. Darcy can get you out in a couple of days. I’ll arrange for my carriage to be returned after it’s dryer.” He turned to his sister. “There’s certainly no side saddle. You are about the same size as Portendorfer. I’ll arrange for you to wear his spare trousers.” The arrangements were quickly, and Darcy suspected, expensively made. Darcy was surprised that Miss Bingley made no objections, although considering her lengthy tirades the previous day, he knew she was able to find many faults with that arrangement.
“Mr. Darcy should come with us. I’m sure he can keep up since Simon will be leading the horse,” Miss Bingley said. “Someone will come for the Miss Bennets when it’s dry.”
“No.” Darcy hoped his contempt for Miss Bingley showed on his face. “I have to tend to the Miss Bennets.”
His contempt must be visible since Miss Bingley had a resigned look on her face. Did she finally realize he was not going to marry her? Apparently.
“Come, Caroline,” Bingley said to his sister. “Let’s go.”
Miss Bennet looked shocked but said nothing. They left with Simon joining them to lead the horse. Bingley sat in front with his sister behind him. Miss Bingley’s gown was bunched up around her waist and her legs were clad in rough cloth, partially covered by Miss Bennet’s dressing gown. Darcy noticed it had a rip in it that allowed it to drape over the horse.
“There is some leftover bread,” Elizabeth said. “While the rain has stopped, I’m going to bring it to the Portendorfers.”
Darcy walked over with her and saw that she remembered the children’s names. He asked Mrs. Portendorfer if she needed some help. He ended up splitting logs. While doing so, Elizabeth said she was going to check on something.
Elizabeth returned, somewhat muddy, but looking very cheerful. “I can get us back to Longbourn. I have never visited this farm, but I have seen it on my walks, but not up close. I had to go out and be sure it was what I thought it was and I could find the path. I suspected it when I visited the barn this morning. I didn’t have a clear view yesterday. I think it’s only about two miles from Longbourn. We can rest at about halfway at a farm. I think Jane is well enough to walk.”
“If you can get your luggage together, I can carry it. We should leave as soon as possible,” Darcy said. He was worried it would start raining again.
“I think it would be better if your hands are free to help Jane,” Elizabeth said. “I can carry Jane’s and my things.”
Darcy was surprised she objected to his plan, but she was right.
While the Bennet sisters packed what they wouldn’t be wearing, Darcy arranged for Jacob to stay to help with the remaining horse and help with any farm work until he was called for.
Miss Bennet walked very slowly, having obviously not completely recovered from her illness. She clutched Darcy’s arm, except when the passage was too narrow. Darcy found himself wishing Elizabeth were holding onto his arm rather than Miss Bennet. Elizabeth led the way, ducking under bare branches heavily laden with water, passing through pastures, and crossing a creek, sufficiently swollen by rain to almost be called a stream. They stepped on a rock that Darcy suspected had been put there for that purpose. The rock was too nicely arranged to be natural.
All the while, she kept up a cheerful conversation with Darcy. Miss Bennet was concentrating too hard on walking to participate.
The farmers where they rested had been the recipients of Elizabeth’s charity in the past and were happy to offer them a place to sit by the fire. Worried that the rain would return, they only rested briefly. By the time they arrived at Longbourn, it was raining again.
Elizabeth led them to the back door of her home. They entered the kitchen and a servant said, “Who are you? You can’t come in here!”
Elizabeth said, “Heat as much water as you can. Miss Bennet needs a warm bath as soon as possible.”
“Miss Elizabeth! Miss Bennet!” One servant said. Another servant left the kitchen.
“But we are fixing tea!” said the third servant.
“Good. There should be some hot water available,” Elizabeth said.
“But not nearly enough. Where is your largest pot?” Darcy wryly realized his current attire did not lend him the authority it usually did. “Now!”
With the help of Mrs. Bennet, who had been fetched, they sorted it out. Eventually, Darcy found himself bathed and sipping tea accompanied by a substantial array of food. He was dressed in a footman’s clothing, which fit only enough for decency, not for style. Both Elizabeth and Miss Bennet were dressed but had their hair down to dry. Miss Bennet had discarded the blanket her mother had insisted she wrap around her, although she still wore a shawl and sat next to the fire. Both sisters were even more beautiful with their long hair down, but Darcy spent most of his time watching Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy was as good a guest in Longbourn as he had been in the Portendorfer farm. He cheerfully accepted the situation since heavy rain kept him there. The length of time he lingered with her father after dinner made Elizabeth aware that he must have been entertaining, because Mr. Bennet would have made short work of the after-dinner port if he hadn’t been. From her father’s attitude toward him that evening, he enjoyed Mr. Darcy’s company.
The following morning, Mr. Darcy left to walk to Netherfield Park. The rain had stopped, and Mr. Darcy wore his own clothes, which had been washed and pressed. The pressing was done for dryness, rather than appearance since the clothing was beyond saving.
After Darcy left, Elizabeth sat down to hem and embroider four handkerchiefs for the Portendorfer girls. She suspected the Portendorfers had been well paid, but she thought a personal gift might be meaningful. While she was starting to hem the first one, Jane joined her.
“Both Mr. and Miss Bingley thought I went to the barn with you,” Jane said. “I didn’t mean to overhear them talking, but I did. I should have told them I was there or at least not listened. Elizabeth, he’s not the man I thought he was. He criticized his sister for her behavior, saying she never had a chance of capturing Mr. Darcy, but if she kept up her behavior, Darcy would be less likely to visit him. He needed Darcy to come to show he had wealthy and well-connected friends. She said he should have courted Miss Darcy even though he knew she disliked him, and he said Miss Darcy was timid as a rabbit and not at all pretty. She said it was a mistake to be attracted by me, and he said everyone here respected me and I would make a good hostess and be an obedient wife. She asked if he loved me and he said, no, but I met his requirements, and he could always find entertainment elsewhere when he got tired of me. When I heard you return, I jumped into the bed and pretended I had slept.”
Elizabeth was shocked at Jane’s revelation. “I always thought he was so open and friendly.”
“I did too. I was in love with him. Or at least, I was in love with the man I thought he was.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I haven’t decided what to do. Should I reject him? He hasn’t asked me to marry him or even hinted about marriage. If I change my behavior, he’s bound to guess I overheard him. I’m ashamed of doing so.”
“I would think his going off with his sister leaving you behind was reason enough to be angry with him,” Elizabeth said.
Jane smiled. “I agree. I think I’ll be friendly still. He’s not really a bad man.”
“Perhaps. But I’m glad you overheard him. It’s better that you found out what kind of man he is now.”
“Rather than after marrying him,” Jane said, looking at the floor.
“Think if it this way. He’s a man who would make you stay stranded on a poor farm simply so he wouldn’t wade a stream. He isn’t worthy of you.”
Jane had a mending project later that day, since the clothing which Miss Bingley wore on the ride to Netherfield Park was returned. The dressing gown had a large tear where Miss Bingley modified it for modesty on her ride.
Elizabeth was less concerned about that than the arrival of their cousin, Mr. Collins.
After returning to Netherfield Park, Darcy had an unusual sense of satisfaction. He had seen to it they slept in the house, not the barn. Everyone benefited, even the Portendorfers. Perhaps he should have tried to veto the trip to begin with or turn back earlier. That might have led to less discomfort. But no one was harmed and hopefully, Miss Bingley would be more cautious. He didn’t want to marry her, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to do something dangerous. He also wasn’t sorry that Miss Bennet saw a little more of Bingley. If they married, she would do it with her eyes opened to his true character.
He was happy about his own behavior, a feeling he rarely felt returning from a social engagement. He wished he could learn to cope with the drawing room as well.
Bingley suggested that he and Darcy ride to Longbourn to check on how Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were doing after their ordeal. They found the two older Bennet sisters with their two youngest sisters in Meryton. They were talking to some men, one an officer Mr. Darcy had met. While Bingley was inquiring how Miss Bennet was doing, for his inquiry was primarily directed toward her, Darcy noticed the two other men in the party. One was a tall, heavy young man who was dressed very conservatively, and the other was Mr. Wickham!
In an instant all Darcy’s former anger erupted. Wickham had nearly eloped with Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, when she was barely fifteen. When Wickham impudently touched his hat, Darcy controlled his anger and returned the gesture. He was glad when Bingley decided it was time to ride on.
He wasn’t glad to attend the ball Bingley gave. Although Bingley suggested he stay upstairs, Darcy was tired of his ploy of being obnoxious to teach Bingley not to drag him to various social events. Darcy should not have been so petty. When Bingley visited Pemberley, he gave every appearance of enjoying quiet evenings. He made no complaints and didn’t even suggest they spend more time with Darcy’s neighbors. Bingley was a perfect guest. Darcy realized he had been a bad guest.
Darcy had tried to let his behavior show Bingley that he was a better guest if he wasn’t dragged out to things he didn’t enjoy, but it hadn’t worked. To his annoyance, he realized he had let Bingley’s motivations influence him. Despite Bingley’s reasons for cultivating Darcy, he had been good company. For the remainder of his stay, he would be a perfect guest. That gave him a reason to behave properly at the ball. He would dance every dance. He would dance with Elizabeth.
That wasn’t enough. He had to dance with wallflowers as well.
He danced with Bingley’s sisters. Then he was free to dance with Elizabeth.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said at the first opportunity. “You should be aware that a lieutenant in the militia, a Mr. George Wickham, who claims to know you, has been circulating a story about you that I believe is false.”
“Why do you believe it to be false?” Wickham was generally believed, even when he lied. He wondered what made Elizabeth see through whatever falsehoods Wickham uttered.
“I found inconsistencies in what he said.”
“What?”
“Among other things he said your sister was proud and I understand she is shy.” That was true, but where did she learn that? Darcy wondered. “That matters less than what he said. He claimed you were supposed to give him a valuable living, but you arbitrarily withheld it.”
“I withheld it after paying him three thousand pounds, which he requested,” Darcy said. “It was his idea.”
“I believe you,” she said thoughtfully.
“Why?” Darcy asked bitterly. Most peopled believe Wickham, even when he lied.
“Aside from the inconsistencies, I got to know you better when we were stranded on the Portendorfer farm.”
“What did I do except buy our comfort?”
“You cared for your servants’ comfort and were polite to the Portendorfers. You could have waited until Mr. Bingley let Jacob go and hired him for less money and without promising him visits to his family. He is small and I doubt he could get the pay you offered him anywhere else.”
They danced in silence for a while. “Who does believe this?” Darcy finally asked.
“Most people who’ve heard it. Mr. Denny from the militia and my sister Lydia are two who believe it.”
After completing the dance, Darcy approached Miss Lydia. One could see she was expecting an officer who was approaching her to ask her to dance. Darcy neatly cut in front of the officer. He could see her anger. She didn’t want to dance with him, but she knew that refusing meant she could not dance with anyone else that evening.
The dance had barely started when she said, “You cheated Mr. Wickham out of his inheritance.”
At least he didn’t have to worry about how to bring up the subject. “No. He was given the one thousand pounds he was supposed to inherit. As to the living he was supposed to have when the incumbent died, he claimed he didn’t want to be a clergyman and asked for three thousand pounds instead. I gave it to him. I made sure his signature was witnessed. It was no secret. Several people knew about it.”
“You’re lying,” Miss Lydia said angrily.
“No. I can’t prove it here, because the document where he gave up his rights isn’t here.” He then named three people in London who knew about it and how to find them.
Lydia made him repeat the information and said, “I’ll tell Wickham. He’ll find the people don’t exist or you paid them to lie about him.”
“Do that. And when you do,” Darcy said, “tell him that I am happy to show his signature on the document to anyone he chooses and let that person interview those who witnessed his signature.”
Miss Lydia looked angry for a few minutes. Then she lost herself in the dance. She danced almost as well as Elizabeth. Darcy realized that dancing with a good partner who happened to be very pretty, even though he neither liked nor respected her, could give him a certain amount of pleasure. Her saying nothing for the remainder of the dance added to his pleasure.
Bingley approached him after the dance was over. “I was surprised to see you dance with Miss Lydia.”
Darcy shrugged. “She’s a good dancer. She has a lot of energy and is pretty.” He couldn’t think of any other positive things to say about her.
“Not your usual criteria,” Bingley said. “Usually you want conversation on the dance floor. I don’t think you spoke at all.”
“We spoke briefly at first.” Darcy left Bingley and picked out a wallflower to dance with. The remainder of his dances were with women who weren’t dancing. The odd man, who was with the Bennet sisters the day he saw Wickham, turned out to be his aunt’s clergyman, Mr. Collins. Darcy wanted to dance with Elizabeth again, but settled on a brief conversation when he asked Miss Lucas to dance. He felt a little guilty leaving Elizabeth with Mr. Collins, since she clearly was not enjoying herself, but a perfect guest does not dance twice with the most beautiful woman in the room.
Bingley danced with Miss Lydia later in the evening.
Afterward, he reevaluated his own behavior. He had behaved well at the ball, by dancing every dance. He did not feel as much satisfaction as he had from his behavior during the fiasco of an attempt to get the Miss Bennets home, but he did feel some satisfaction. Perhaps he should do his social duties more often. He realized his previous behavior would have been frowned upon when he was a child.
Sadly, no one criticized him for it. No one corrected him if he was wrong. No. One person had. Elizabeth. She had done so politely, but she had stood up to him when he needed someone to do so. He needed someone like her in his life. No. He needed her.
Mr. Bingley and his party left for London the next day. For several days, they didn’t hear anything, making Mrs. Bennet bemoan that Jane lost her chance to marry Mr. Bingley. Then Mrs. Bennet heard riders and peeked out the window. “Mr. Bingley is coming. I didn’t know he was back from London.”
Kitty and Lydia also went to the window. “Mr. Darcy is with him,” Kitty said.
“Elizabeth,” Mrs. Bennet said, “could you keep Mr. Darcy’s attention? He danced with both you and Lydia, but Lydia said she was angry with him and told him so. I can’t see him being interested in you, but you should try. Just don’t speak too much. Or at all.”
Elizabeth knew the last bit of advice was one she was unlikely to follow. Nevertheless, she said little when the gentlemen arrived. After several minutes of meaningless conversation, Mr. Bingley said, “Mr. Darcy and I would like to take a walk to the Portendorfer farm to thank them with Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, if that is all right with you.”
When Elizabeth retrieved her hat, she grabbed four handkerchiefs she had embroidered and brought them with her. Very quickly, the four of them were on their way. Mr. Darcy started out at a brisk pace and Elizabeth matched his strides, leaving Jane and Mr. Bingley behind. There had been no recent rain making the walk much more pleasant than it had been before.
“He wants time alone with her,” Mr. Darcy said.
Elizabeth refused to ask why.
“I also wanted time alone with you.”
“Why?”
“I want you to hear everything I have to say before you respond. I have a lot to say.” He paused until she agreed. “I am twenty-seven years old and have always planned to marry for love. I assumed I would fall in love with someone of the appropriate background with the appropriately sized dowry. I’ve concluded that I was wrong. I need a wife, and I want children. I am attracted to you in a way I never thought I could be attracted to any woman. Is that love? I don’t think so, but the thought of leaving you to marry someone else hurts me, even though I think you deserve to marry a man who is good, wealthy and loves you. I admire you. It’s more than that. I have never met another woman that I’ve held in such high esteem. Your behavior at the Portendorfer farm was exemplary. Your handling of Miss Bingley’s complaints and her ire toward you was admirable. She rightly thought I was attracted to you.”
That surprised Elizabeth. She had not thought Mr. Darcy was attracted to her, although his present speech proved her wrong.
“You demonstrated you have the qualities I need in a wife, whereas Miss Bingley demonstrated she didn’t have those qualities, although I never considered her a possibility for a wife. I dislike toadies and enjoy it when you challenge my ideas.”
When staying at Netherfield Park, Elizabeth often had disagreed with Darcy. She thought he would object to it. She was surprised he was pleased with it. Further thought brought up examples at the farm where she didn’t agree with him. They seemed trivial but apparently not to him.
“But if I had been considering Miss Bingley, her behavior both at the farm and toward you made me lose all respect for her as a person. Most of my mother’s relatives will wonder why I married you. My family is far from perfect. One will be angry and probably not accept you. Another will be a bit jealous that I found someone so charming but will behave well toward you. I can’t predict what the others will do. I have no living relatives on my father’s side, which is one reason I think children are important.
“My sister, who is not yet sixteen, needs guidance. I can’t think of anyone better than you to guide her. My estate, Pemberley, needs the loving hands of a mistress both for the household and the tenants. You’ve demonstrated with the Portendorfers that you could do the latter, and I believe you are very capable of doing the former.
“I’ve given some thought to your family. Sometimes, I will be embarrassed by your mother and your younger sisters, but I have a relative that I am sometimes embarrassed by and it doesn’t stop me from visiting her and caring for her. I will not keep you from seeing your family and I expect to often join you on these visits.”
Although Elizabeth’s resentment briefly flared, she had to admit to herself that she was sometimes embarrassed by her mother and younger sisters.
“When your father dies, I will help support them. I will not let my family live in poverty. For if we marry, they will be my family and I don’t neglect my family. As to your eldest sister, I believe Bingley plans to propose to her, but I’m guessing she plans to refuse.”
Elizabeth had agreed not to speak until Mr. Darcy was through, but she blurted out, “How do you know?”
“I didn’t think she was in love with him until the Portendorfer farm, but then I saw her fall out of love with him. She saw only his social side before. If she had only a little bit of avarice in her nature, she would accept him. He’s not a bad man, even if he is a bit selfish and doesn’t do well in a crisis.”
“Did you know that about Bingley? I mean before…”
He nodded. “Your sister doesn’t demand perfection, which is impossible, but I believe she wants someone better than Bingley. I’ve long known he isn’t perfect. No one is. Bingley will be a good husband, kind if it doesn’t inconvenience him seriously. He can be very thoughtful when it doesn’t hurt him.”
“You accept him with his faults.” Elizabeth was almost asking a question.
“Yes. Why not? He is better than most people. He has no malice in him, unlike his sister. He will attend to other people’s comfort if it doesn’t significantly diminish his own. He recognizes what people want and will try to see they have it. He isn’t petty, but he’s calculating. At some point his comfort outweighs anyone else’s.”
“Unlike you,” Elizabeth said, thoughtfully. Darcy could have easily insisted Bingley sleep in the loft. There were mattresses that were far away from the ladder.
“I suspect everyone has a breaking point,” Darcy said. “I believe Bingley invited me to stay with him so he could show off his connections. I probably won’t visit him again for such a long period of time, but I’ll still see him when we’re both in London and invite him to Pemberley, unless that makes you uncomfortable.”
“I would not keep you from him.” After uttering this, Elizabeth was shocked to realize that she was seriously considering his proposal.
He must have realized this because he looked pleased. “I have one real vanity. I like to think I’m a better person than most people. To allow myself to believe that, I must act better. That doesn’t make me good. It just makes me act as if I were. I’m not trying to fool anyone, you understand, except possibly myself.”
“And your behavior at the Assembly, when you accused me of not being handsome enough to tempt you?” She had considered keeping silent on that, but there never would be a better time to ask.
“I was angry at being dragged to it by Bingley, who ignored my preferences. I wanted him to think twice about pushing me to come. Unfortunately, I may have hurt you. I am terribly sorry about that. Most of my behavior was aimed at Bingley. Oddly, it was because I thought you were unusually beautiful that I felt I could behave this offensively and it wouldn’t offend. I thought you were sufficiently attractive that you could ignore one person’s rejection. If I was wrong I... no, I really had no excuse. I should have recognized that it was improper for me to behave that way. I can give you an explanation, but not an excuse. I am sometimes petty. I would like to overcome that.”
“I suppose that does explain it,” Elizabeth said. “What do you mean Bingley pushed you to come?”
“We arrived at Netherfield Park around noon that day. There was no need for us to go out so soon after arriving. He wanted to show us off and the assembly was too tempting a time to do so. All the others liked the idea of being on display.” Darcy shrugged. “I know I should have insisted on staying home or behaved well. I enjoy Bingley’s company, but get annoyed when he insists on taking me to places, I don’t want to go to.”
“What do you like to do with him?” Elizabeth was curious about the nature of their relationship.
“Ride. Shoot. Fish. Play billiards. Take walks. Sit by a fire on a lazy evening, read, and chat. He’s a good companion, but I like doing things with him, not with a crowd of other people. I like one-on-one interactions or at best small group interactions.”
“Not an assembly.”
“Exactly. Bingley is very easygoing. He can accept very minor inconveniences with grace. But we are getting away from the subject. I hope we will have many years to discuss our friends. I want you to marry me. Think it over. Most women I know would be considering a trousseau by now, but you are in a class by yourself. I don’t think you ever considered the possibility of me proposing. That means I should give you time. I’ll talk to you tomorrow and hope you will have a decision by then. I hope it is favorable, but if it isn’t, I want to remain on good terms.”
They had nearly reached the Portendorfer farm by then. Mr. Portendorfer was wearing new trousers that replaced the ones Miss Bingley wore. Elizabeth remembered the names of the children and gave each one a handkerchief with their name and a small flower embroidered on it.
While she talked to the girls, Mr. Portendorfer asked about Jacob.
When they left, Elizabeth said, “I didn’t hear Mr. Portendorfer’s response to your inquiry about Jacob. How is he doing?”
“I sent him to London and given my cook instructions to teach him cooking,” Darcy said. “Mr. Portendorfer said he was a better cook than a farmer. Jacob helped with some of the heavy work, but his wife and oldest daughter could do the work he could do. Nevertheless, Jacob tried.”
“Then he’ll probably be a good cook.”
“That’s what I’m hoping. By the way, your handkerchiefs were a clever gift, useful, pretty, and might teach a little bit about reading.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I hadn’t thought of that. It just seemed appropriate.” On their return trip there was no mention or even allusion to Darcy’s proposal.
After Elizabeth returned, she had a private conversation with Jane, who said, “I tried to deflect Mr. Bingley’s proposal. He just ignored everything I said. Then he got mad at me. He said I led him on. He insisted on me telling him what changed, but I couldn’t bring myself to say that I learned what he was really like. I loved him once. He is selfish. He told me I would never find someone who was as good a catch as he was, and I would be required to marry a farmer to keep from starving. Oh, in little things he isn’t selfish, but when it matters it’s what he wants. For all his attitude of being friends with everyone, he likes Mr. Darcy mainly because of his connections and wealth.”
“I believe Mr. Darcy is a good man,” Elizabeth said.
“I do too. It is too bad I didn’t fall in love with him and he proposed to me. I believe I could accept his faults. You should fall in love with him because I think he likes you better than me. If you married him, our mother wouldn’t be quite so mad at me.”
Elizabeth knew Jane was teasing and had no inkling of Mr. Darcy’s proposal. “Why did you tell Mama about his proposal?”
“He left me no choice.”
As Jane explained, Mr. Bingley didn’t talk to her parents, but ostensibly to Jane in Mrs. Bennet’s hearing. He said, “I believe you will regret your actions today.” Mrs. Bennet required Jane to explain, and her revelation caused her much grief. Mrs. Bennet was furious with Jane and ordered her to change her answer. She ranted about how they would be impoverished when Mr. Bennet died. Even Mr. Bennet seemed unhappy at Jane’s refusing Bingley’s proposal.
When she was lying in the bed she shared with Jane, Elizabeth wondered about her future. Would they be three to a bed as she was in the farmer’s cottage? Would she have to learn to cook over an open fire? Would she have no books or even pens and paper? Their mother would be a poor manager and neither she nor her sisters had the skills to manage a poor household. For she recognized there were skills needed. What good was the ability to embroider beautiful handkerchiefs when what was really needed was to use the needle to eke a little more wear out of well-worn clothing?
She had a way out for all of them. She could marry a man she liked and respected but did not love. He didn’t even love her. What kind of marriage would they have? Was liking enough? Was esteem enough?
Her parent’s marriage was currently loveless and totally lacked esteem. She blamed both her parents for their bad marriage. Realistically, her father was more to blame than her mother, since her father had the intelligence to solve problems. If he couldn’t make her mother smart, he could at least rein in her bad behavior.
Would Mr. Darcy exercise a husband’s authority over her and try to change her behavior? She suspected one characteristic she inherited from her mother was the ability to resist that. Her lips curved into a smile. If Mr. Darcy tried to change her, his greatest weakness was his basic decency. He was a good man. He put up with Mr. Bingley’s weaknesses. He would not be a domineering husband. One of the reasons he wanted to marry her was because he liked certain characteristics about her.
She had always known about a husband’s power over his wife and expected to marry. Darcy had demonstrated himself to be unusually pliable. Nevertheless, she would have to change. He didn’t like the kind of society that she was used to. But he did like people in small groups. She would have to accept that. Perhaps, when they were in London, they could go their separate ways at times, allowing her the society she suspected she would miss if it were unavailable. That might not be possible when they were in the country. At Pemberley. Which everyone praised but might be rather daunting to try to run. Mr. Darcy thought she was able to do so.
Somehow, that was the deciding factor: his confidence in her. She would marry him. Esteem had to be enough.
Darcy rode over to Longbourn the next day. He looked at the building with a different attitude than he ever had before. If Elizabeth accepts my proposal, this building will house my relatives, he thought. He saw Elizabeth react to his proposal before he actually made it and gave her time, hoping that the reality of her situation would make her accept. He believed that if her older sister accepted Bingley’s offer Elizabeth would refuse his.
Bingley was both hurt and angry about Miss Bennet’s refusal. He must have had an inkling that his behavior at the farm showed his true character, but somehow didn’t understand it. He did have the sense to realize Miss Bennet would make him an excellent wife. But he never thought about how to become an excellent husband.
Darcy realized he hadn’t given much thought to his role as a husband. He had considered the financial aspects of Miss Elizabeth’s family becoming his family and the social aspects of having additional embarrassing relatives, but he had not thought about being a good husband. He was uncertain what being a good husband meant.
“Where’s Mr. Bingley?” Mrs. Bennet asked Darcy angrily after he entered the drawing room.
“At Netherfield Park,” Darcy said.
“He should be here, persuading Jane to marry him.”
Darcy shrugged but didn’t answer. He saw Miss Bennet’s eyes were red from crying. The wording of Mrs. Bennet’s statement told him that Miss Bennet had not changed her mind. Were her tears because of Mrs. Bennet’s anger or because of her recognition of the character of the ideal man she once loved? Possibly they were for both.
Bingley’s unsuccessful proposal of marriage made it both easier and harder for Darcy. Easier in that Elizabeth was more likely to accept his proposal. Harder in that he would never know if she would have accepted him without that pressure.
There was a light rain, which made a walk impossible. Darcy managed to sit near Elizabeth. He wanted to touch her, but that was socially impossible. “We had an interesting discussion yesterday,” he said to her.
“We did. As I recall, you did most of the talking. I have one word to add, and it is a positive one, but I think my father might be interested in the topic. He’s in the library.” Elizabeth pointed to a doorway. “Perhaps you might want his opinion. I did not discuss it with him, so you will have to explain.”
Mr. Darcy returned in a very few minutes, saying her father wanted to see her. Aside from verifying that she had accepted, little was said. He did say, “I always assumed Jane would marry well. Your mother was right in that her beauty should have brought her a good husband. Even more important, her kind nature should have been recognized by someone. I’m glad that when I am gone my family won’t be impoverished. From what you told me about his behavior when you were at that farm with the man with the funny name, he is a good man.”
When Elizabeth left her father, Mr. Darcy arose, and Elizabeth escorted him to the door. “I’ll make the financial arrangements as soon as I can. I’ll call again tomorrow.”
Elizabeth thought that her mother would stop harassing Jane about her refusal to marry Mr. Bingley since her marriage to Darcy would ensure that the family would never be impoverished, but it didn’t. Elizabeth probably could have coped with their mother’s constant complaints, but Jane’s gentle nature was not suited to this. She lost weight and didn’t sleep well.
Darcy stayed at Netherfield Park the night before his wedding. He was grateful that Miss Bingley wasn’t there, but perhaps her presence might have kept Bingley from drinking too much. Darcy had no inclination to get drunk and thus declined Bingley’s repeated offer to refill his glass with brandy before pouring a liberal amount into his own. Darcy had heard of the groom getting badly drunk on his wedding night, but Bingley was not the groom.
“This should have been my wedding to Miss Bennet,” Bingley said.
“You are able to find a perfectly respectable wife with a much better dowry,” Darcy said.
Bingley barked a short laugh. “Giving advice you didn’t follow?”
“Miss Elizabeth accepted my offer,” Darcy replied.
“That isn’t the point. You are marrying for love. Neither of us need a well-dowered wife. Why can’t I do so also?”
Was he marrying for love? “How is your relationship to Miss Bennet different from others you’ve had?” Darcy then named four women that Bingley appeared to be in love with. “You broke off those relationships within two months.” When Bingley didn’t respond, Darcy added, “Just in time for you to escape the visit of a male relative asking what your intentions were.”
“You are a little too perceptive, Darcy.”
“You acted like you were in love.”
“Perhaps. I’m not certain what love is. But it’s irrelevant. Love has nothing to do with what I want in a wife.”
“What do you want in a wife?”
“I’ve been negotiating with the owners of Netherfield Park to buy it.” Seeing Darcy’s reaction, Bingley said. “I’m not changing the subject. I’m including buying the farms connected to it. Despite my roots in trade, the income from those farms will make me a gentleman, though many will not accept that in London. I will be largely accepted here.” He made a sweeping gesture. “My acceptance will be complete if I marry someone local.”
“There are other women here than Miss Bennet,” Darcy said.
“But none more appropriate. Her beauty and manners will impress people in London the few times a year we visit it. She will become a perfect wife. She will entertain and run the household. She will comply with my wishes and do what I want.”
“What do you want?” What Darcy didn’t want was a perfectly obedient wife. He wanted someone who criticized him when he needed it.
“Parties. Dancing. Society. People. A little hunting. An occasional evening at home with a book.” Darcy inwardly flinched at that. When Bingley was at Pemberley Darcy took too much advantage of his friend’s apparent compliant nature. “I want to be respected. I want to be considered the most important person in the neighborhood.”
“And your importance is enhanced by having wealthy, well-connected friends,” Darcy said.
Bingley met his eyes. “Yes.”
There was no answer to that. Bingley was using Darcy, but Darcy had taken advantage of Bingley. It didn’t really cost Darcy anything. Perhaps it was a fair exchange. But there was another issue to be considered. “Why did you join us when we returning the Miss Bennets? I know it didn’t happen that way, but one possibility was that we reached Longbourn, left the Bennet sisters there, and your sister and I were stranded together.”
“Were you considering having a maid join you before I volunteered?” Bingley asked.
“Yes.” He was wondering if she should be squeezed in the carriage or between the driver and the groom when Bingley spoke.
“Even if you hadn’t done so, I think it very unlikely that my sister would get you in a situation where you would end up marrying her. You are twenty-seven years old and might be the best catch in England who doesn’t have a title or connections in trade. Not only are you rich and handsome, but you have impeccable connections and would be kind to your wife. You are too smart to be caught in that kind of trap, because otherwise you would be married by now. Others have surely tried. They’ve tried with me and I don’t have half your wealth and have none of your connections. But you might end up resenting my sister for any attempt to trap you. That would make it awkward between us. My sister is not always smart.”
Afterward, Darcy wondered if he was marrying for love. Was his desire to have a wife useful to his character as self-serving as Bingley’s idea of what a wife would offer? He didn’t have an answer.
Miss Lydia sought him out at the wedding breakfast and said, “I don’t know whether to be mad at you or thank you. Mr. Wickham said that you were lying and invented the names. Mr. Denny said he would go to London and check. Mr. Wickham said he would go with him. The next thing anyone knew, Mr. Denny found out that Mr. Darcy was not lying, and Mr. Wickham had bought passage to Canada leaving all sorts of debts in Meryton. People weren’t happy about the debts but said good riddance to Mr. Wickham.”
“Why would you be mad at me?”
Lydia obviously had given it a little thought. “Because it was more fun believing he was good, and you were bad.” She turned away and left.
That wasn’t the only strange encounter at the wedding. Bingley said to Darcy in a voice that Jane could hear, “It’s a good thing I didn’t marry her. She’s lost her looks.”
“She’s still the prettiest woman in the room, except for my bride.”
Bingley made a show of looking around. “No. Miss Lydia is prettier.” Bingley walked toward Miss Lydia and started talking to her.
Darcy had not thought Bingley so petty. Bingley had done the same thing Darcy did at the assembly: he insulted a woman within her hearing. Darcy cringed, not at Bingley’s behavior, but his own. Bingley still must be hurt by Jane’s refusal, but Darcy didn’t have that excuse. Circumstances made Jane unhappy. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Or was there?
After hearing Bingley insult her, Jane tried to tell herself she shouldn’t be hurt. It just confirmed that she made the right decision. But it did hurt. She loved him once. She also told herself that he had been hurt by her refusal. Yet what she overheard said that it wasn’t love, but pride that made him hurt. He didn’t love her. He just wanted her to be his wife. What kind of man tells his sister when he is courting someone that, what was his wording? He could find entertainment elsewhere. She was not so naïve as not to guess what he meant by entertainment.
Jane watched Mr. Darcy speak quietly to Elizabeth at the wedding breakfast. She looked surprised and pleased. Mr. Darcy came up to her and asked, “How long will it take you to pack? I would like you to join my wife and me in London.”
Mrs. Bennet overheard and shrieked. “Jane lost her chance at getting a rich husband. Lydia should go next or Kitty.”
“If Miss Bennet wishes to stay at Longbourn, we might invite Miss Mary next year,” Mr. Darcy said, recognizing that Mary was older than the other two and it was more appropriate to invite her. “But right now, the only invitation I am making is for Miss Jane Bennet.”
“Go upstairs and pack,” Mr. Bennet said to Jane. “See me before you go. You’ll need some spending money.”
Jane managed not to run when people were looking, but when out of sight, she dashed up the stairs. To her surprise, Lydia followed her up and was genuinely helpful in helping her decide what to bring. “As long as the regiment is still quartered in Meryton, I don’t want to go to London,” Lydia said. “I’m afraid Mama will get her way and send me there. I suspect Mr. Darcy only has stuffy people for friends.”
“I’m glad of your help,” Jane replied, “whatever the reason.”
“It’s not as nice since Wickham left. It makes me wonder what other officers are hiding. Some of them claim to be heirs to property. I now think, if Lieutenant Wickham lied, even though he was so charming and sincere, does this other lieutenant lie?”
“Even if people don’t actually lie, they often conceal what they are,” Jane said, thinking of Bingley.
“I don’t,” Lydia replied.
“No. I suppose you don’t. Mama doesn’t either.” Jane had an uncharitable thought that neither had the brains to conceal what they were. Mr. Bingley had the brains to conceal his true nature and did a good job of it.
Jane resolved to stay out of the way of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy as much as possible. The morning after the wedding, she was told she could use the carriage to visit her aunt and uncle, who resided in London. She found she was to be accompanied by a maid. She spent the whole day with the Gardiners and visited again for most of the next day. When Jane saw Elizabeth and Darcy at dinner, she realized that they were both happier than they had been at the wedding. Elizabeth had been a little apprehensive and Darcy a little tense. Elizabeth looked pleased and Darcy had a look of what? Satisfaction, Jane decided.
The next day, Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy and Jane visited the house where Darcy’s sister was staying. She had been at the wedding but had been so quiet that Jane barely noticed her. She was invited to stay in Darcy’s house, along with her companion, Mrs. Annesley. Jane helped getting Georgiana settled.
That evening, Darcy said, “Elizabeth, I don’t like to give you orders, but I’m going to order you to do something difficult.” Darcy was smiling when he said it. Elizabeth looked at him expectantly without looking worried. But Darcy looked at Jane. “I’ve already talked to Elizabeth about expanding her wardrobe. As an obedient wife, I’m certain she will do so, especially since it isn’t coming out of her pin money. I want her to persuade Miss Bennet to accept enough clothes to make it so she is a credit to being my sister. And Georgiana should have a couple of gowns that are suitable for an adult. I know she isn’t out yet, nor do I intend for her to come out this year, but she should have gowns that make it less likely that she belongs in the schoolroom. Mrs. Annesley knows where to shop.”
They spent the next few days shopping. Jane was embarrassed to accept more gowns and accessories than she ever owned at one time. After all three women each received the first dress of their orders, the whole party went to dinner at the London residence of Darcy’s cousin, Herbert Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Matlock.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam lounged in a comfortable chair in an unmilitary slouch in a room that was called the library, because it contained a few books. It was a nice place for a private conversation. Herbert Fitzwilliam was sitting in a chair with his feet on a footstool and a glass of brandy in his hand. Richard had wondered if his brother Herbert would remove the footstool when he had inherited it along with the books, the library, four estates, and the title of the Earl of Matlock. For many years, it had been set aside, but now, at forty-five, Herbert used it. At twenty-nine, Richard hadn’t felt the need.
Richard had been tempted by the brandy because of the unsettling visit of their aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Herbert had finally ordered Lady Catherine out of the house threatening to call his footmen to deliver her bodily into the street, saying she had no authority over either of them, and he was head of the family.
“That’s not the end of it,” Richard said.
“It never is with Aunt Catherine,” Herbert replied. “I think she’s becoming slightly crazy. First, she gives away a valuable living to that idiot clergyman Collins and then this. I’m going to warn Darcy that he may receive an angry visit from our aunt, although heaven knows what she wants him to do. He’s shown too little backbone lately, letting that young man Bingley display him like a trick rider at a circus. Bingley makes sure that everyone knows Darcy’s connection to us.”
“Bingley is his friend,” Richard said reasonably, “and Darcy is connected to us.”
“Yes, but he makes a point of appearing in public with him. Darcy isn’t stupid. He must know what Bingley is doing.”
“He does. We’ve talked about it. Bingley is a good companion. He’s no sycophant and he’s ready to join in any activity. He can hold his own in almost any conversation and the ladies enjoy him.”
“I’ve heard he falls in love several times a year,” Herbert said.
“Oh yes,” Richard said. “Madly. But he manages to avoid matrimony. Oddly enough, he hasn’t left broken hearts, only leaving unfilled purses of would-be brides. He breaks it off just before the woman really starts to care for him.”
“He likes them to be elusive?”
Richard nodded and glanced at the bottle of brandy. Herbert gestured toward it and Richard shook his head. “I’m supposed to meet with some fellow officers this evening. I don’t want to arrive drunk.”
“You won’t leave drunk either,” Herbert predicted. “I’m going to send an invitation to Darcy and his wife. I suppose I should invite Georgiana, as well as Mrs. Darcy’s sister to dine here. Is this Friday good for you?”
“Yes, but that’s too early. Darcy won’t have been married a month.”
Herbert chuckled. “That’s the beauty of it. He will know I know that and won’t have any other engagements. He’ll be curious. He’ll come.”
Herbert’s prediction proved to be correct. Darcy and three women arrived. Richard had seen Georgiana just two weeks earlier, but she appeared surprisingly more adult. After dinner, when the gentlemen joined the ladies, Richard found that Lady Emily, Herbert’s wife, was talking to Mrs. Darcy. Unexpectedly, Georgiana was sharing a sofa with Miss Bennet and was speaking quietly to her when the men entered the room.
Before the men were settled, Lady Emily arose and left briefly. When she returned, she closed the double doors of the room. “My father taught me an interesting technique,” she said. Lady Emily’s father was a duke, having a total of seventeen children by three wives, giving her connections with many noble families. “I close the doors to the drawing room and have them guarded by two deaf footmen. I do this every time after dinner, making it so if the footmen are bribed to allow listeners, they might hear Herbert complain about the roast or me talking about what one of my nieces is going to wear for a party.”
“It drives the staff crazy,” Herbert said. “Servants think it is their right to information about the occupants of the household.”
“Why did you invite us here so soon after the wedding?” Darcy said, ignoring the discussion of privacy. “I assume it wasn’t to give your opinion about the roast.”
“It was very good,” Mrs. Darcy said with a smile.
“Thank you,” said Lady Emily.
“It’s about Lady Catherine,” Herbert came. “She is furious about your marriage.”
“That’s nothing new,” Darcy said. “She wrote me.” Mrs. Darcy looked surprised but said nothing. “The letter was full of insults about my wife.”
“She hadn’t met her, had she?” asked Lady Emily.
“No, but she had a source of information,” Mrs. Darcy said. “My friend Charlotte Lucas married my cousin Mr. Collins. Lady Catherine gave him the living at Hunsford.”
“Would your friend have given Lady Catherine reason to dislike you?” Herbert asked.
“Yes. Not, I think, about my character, but about my background.” She glanced at her husband. “My mother’s family comes from trade.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Darcy said. “Mrs. Bennet is a woman obsessed with seeing her daughters well married and she is not subtle or tactful about it. It’s understandable since the estate is entailed away from her daughters. All five were out at once, with the youngest being fifteen. What Mrs. Collins probably doesn’t know is that Mrs. Bennet was unkind to Miss Bennet when she refused Bingley’s offer of marriage.”
“You refused Bingley’s offer?” Lady Emily said to Miss Bennet. “Good for you.”
Miss Bennet blushed but said nothing.
“All that is beside the point,” Herbert said. “Lady Catherine insisted I divorce Emily and marry her daughter Anne.”
“Divorce her?” Darcy asked with astonishment. “Why? How?”
“Using a false charge of adultery and an act of parliament. The real reason: she’s barren. She never considered the possibility that it was my fault. She left it up to me to find how to accomplish it. Never mind that divorces take forever to obtain and there is no guarantee of success.”
“Who does she think you are, Henry VIII?” Mrs. Darcy asked.
“Apparently,” Herbert replied. “She thought the fact that I am quite happy in my marriage was irrelevant. I’m not sure she was serious. Even Lady Catherine couldn’t live down that scandal. When I refused, she insisted Richard should marry Anne immediately so there could be heirs to the earldom.”
“What brought this on?” Mrs. Darcy asked. “Why did Darcy’s marriage to me make a difference?”
“My mother was the sister of Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” Darcy explained. “They both wanted me to marry Anne de Bourgh. However, my father said I should not be bound by their wishes, and Sir Lewis de Bourgh said that Anne shouldn’t be bound either. Anne wanted it, but when we were nineteen, she asked me when we would marry. I told her I wouldn’t marry her. That was eight years ago. If I had planned to marry her, I would have done so sooner.”
Mrs. Darcy briefly looked angry at this but schooled her expression to neutral. Richard couldn’t tell if she was angry with Lady Catherine or with Darcy.
“I was trying to protect you,” Darcy protested after Elizabeth complained about his not telling her about Lady Catherine’s ire.
“That isn’t protection,” Elizabeth said.
“You didn’t need to know how angry she was at you.”
“If Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh emigrated to Australia, I wouldn’t need to know. If I’m ever going to meet her… Will I? Meet her?”
“Eventually. When she calms down enough.”
“Then I will need to know. You aren’t protecting me. It would be like protecting a child from falling down the stairs by always carrying him up or down stairs. It makes the fall more likely when he tries it on his own.”
“I’m not suggesting you will come to physical harm,” Darcy assured her. “Lady Catherine is unreasonable, but she’s not violent.”
“The harm I would come to, the emotional harm, would be much worse if I meet her unprepared. I assume Miss Anne de Bourgh is equally nonviolent.”
Darcy hesitated. There had been a governess who broke her arm and left suddenly without a good explanation. Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s spaniel avoided Anne though it loved people. “I don’t know much about her character. Lady Catherine speaks her mind, but Miss de Bourgh doesn’t say anything.” Anne’s asking when they would marry was a startling exception, but Anne had said almost nothing to him since then.
Elizabeth’s eyes stayed on him, but she remained silent. Cautiously, Darcy said, “I have reason to believe she mistreated her father’s spaniel.”
“Anything else?”
“A governess left. She supposedly fell down the stairs. Lady Catherine would normally have cared for her at Rosings.” When Elizabeth looked confused, Darcy explained. “Rosings is where she lives. She was taken some distance away until she healed and then given a pension, which is unusual for a governess that leaves before her charge outgrows the need for a governess.”
“If Anne is involved, that is frightening.”
“More frightening than you think. Her current governess, Mrs. Jenkinson, is a large woman, almost as tall as I am. She is an impoverished gentlewoman, but she hardly has the level of education that someone like Lady Catherine would hire for her daughter. She doesn’t speak any foreign languages, and her musical skills are minimal. I hadn’t thought about it for some time. Anne may be dangerous.”
“She may still have had hopes until you married me,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “You should not allow yourself to be in a position where she or those she employs is in a position to harm you.”
“I don’t need your protection,” Darcy protested.
“It is unlikely I can protect you physically, but I can warn you. If she is violent and hoping to marry you, I am the logical target. If she wants revenge on you for not marrying her, either of us is a target.”
“They live in Kent,” Darcy said, “but come to London now and then. I’ll try to keep track of where they are.”
Darcy felt oddly satisfied after that conversation. He had wanted to marry someone who would challenge his decisions. He had made so many bad ones. He thought Bingley was a better man than he turned out to be. Worse yet, Darcy took Wickham at face value long after there was enough evidence to show that he was dissolute. It took some hard thinking to recognize his childhood friend’s behavior increasingly deviated from the standard that Darcy subscribed to. Darcy’s father never knew what Wickham was really like, but he saw Wickham at a distance. Darcy spent much more time with him.
After some thought, he decided that he should take Elizabeth into his confidence about Georgiana. After explaining about how Georgiana had almost eloped with Wickham the previous summer, he asked, “How can I protect her? I understand that I can’t make all her decisions for her, but how can I make it so she makes the right decision? Wickham was taking advantage of her innocence. What can I do so she doesn’t make that mistake again?”
“Make her less innocent,” Elizabeth said. Seeing his shock, she said, “Hear me out. Georgiana has spent years becoming accomplished. Indeed, she plays the piano beautifully, speaks Italian and French, draws, and does exquisite needlework. But within the next few years she will be making the most important decision she will ever make: she will decide what man to marry. She is totally unprepared. Has she learned anything about men? Does she know anyone well, other than family?’
“No, but it is inappropriate for a fifteen-year-old girl to know men she isn’t related to.”
“Perhaps, but how can she make judgments if that’s all she meets?”
“She was at school,” he said. “Surely she met more people there, some good and some not so good.”
“She has worked very hard at her accomplishments to the point that she doesn’t have the time for other things. She doesn’t pay much attention to the outside world, just to her books and music. She may not have been aware of what was going on. From what she has told Jane, she wasn’t popular and felt it. She may just have seen everyone as people she avoided meeting. She should spend time with a variety of people in a variety of circumstances. She should not be allowed to sit in a corner and refrain from interacting.”
“It would be cruel to push her.”
“We can start with card games,” Elizabeth said. “There are four of us here and we can play. Eventually we’ll invite more people. Surely, you have a few relatives that can be invited.”
“If we count Lady Emily’s family, we have very many relatives. But won’t that take time from her studies?”
“She studies all day, six days a week. She is already more accomplished than anyone I know. She shouldn’t drop her studies but learning about people is important too. Perhaps, more important.”
“I believe she works nine or ten hours a day,” Darcy said.
“No wonder she doesn’t have time for learning about people.”
“Shall we tell Mrs. Annesley to have Georgiana limit it to six hours?”
“That would be good.” Elizabeth smiled and then looked thoughtful. “We won’t play cards for money. That’s too stressful.”
“Everyone plays for money,” Darcy said.
“Perhaps we will set a new fashion.”
Jane was baffled by Darcy’s and Elizabeth’s sudden interest in whist but was grateful that they didn’t play for money. They kept score, but there was no mention of the score from previous days. No money changed hands. Jane was not a good player, but quickly saw that Georgiana was worse. Jane took pity on Darcy’s sister and frequently asked questions as how to play better. Jane’s corrected mistakes taught Georgiana. Jane’s play improved as well.
Lady Emily and Lord Matlock came over and they played vingt-et-un instead of whist. Colonel Fitzwilliam started joining them and as well and they added loo and speculation. The Gardiners were invited over, and they joined in the card games. Whist was played at least at one table. People picked their games and partners by drawing cards and changed after about a half hour. Mr. Gardiner and Lord Matlock got along very well, as did Mrs. Gardiner and Lady Emily. Sometimes more attention was paid to the conversation than the game.
Georgiana’s basic intelligence prevailed, and she soon became a proficient player. Although Georgiana said little that didn’t relate to the game, she was soon talking more. Both Darcy and Elizabeth sometimes made deceptive plays and cheerfully explained them afterward. When Georgiana made such a play and deceived Darcy, he praised her for it.
“Darcy would like to invite Bingley and his family to some of our card parties, but Bingley told Darcy about his proposal and he wonders if you would be uncomfortable. Would you?” Elizabeth asked Jane.
Knowing it would be unreasonable to keep Darcy from his friend she said bravely, “I don’t mind.”
Thus, the Hursts, Mr. Bingley and Miss Bingley were invited to join them for an evening of whist. They drew cards for partners and Jane found herself partnered with Miss Bingley against Mr. Hurst and Georgiana. Miss Bingley had no respect for Jane’s increased level of competence, and thus, caused them to lose, largely by not returning her leads. Georgiana played very well.
Lady Emily hosted card parties that included “only family” and she announced money must not change hands. For Lady Emily, limiting herself to family meant little. Her numerous siblings produced enough nephews and nieces to fill her London drawing room many times over. Jane soon became aware that the crowd that arrived was carefully selected. Many girls were close to Georgiana’s age and not out. Their mothers reciprocated, inviting the same type of people, knowing it was difficult for a girl to come out without a little practice. The company was sufficiently mixed so that Jane was cautiously enjoying herself.
One day when the Bingleys and Hursts were guests, Mr. Hurst dealt several hands face up and asked Georgiana how she would play each hand. Mr. Hurst very kindly encouraged her, and she was a very proficient pupil. Realizing this would be helpful to her, Jane asked to join them and watched Mr. Hurst explain how one might gather information about what cards people might still hold by the cards they played.
After playing with Georgiana, Mr. Hurst said, “I wish we were playing for money,” to Georgiana. Later in the evening he amplified that sentiment. “If the two of us could play for high stakes, we would make a lot of money. You don’t look or act like a good card player, but you are one.”
One day, the draw of cards partnered Jane with Mr. Bingley against Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Oliver. Mr. Oliver was a nephew of Lady Emily and was a widower with four children. Jane and Mr. Bingley won most hands until it was time to change tables and partners.
“You played very well,” Mr. Bingley said to her.
“Thank you.” There was no point in protesting that they had good cards, since everyone at the table knew it.
“We make a good team,” Bingley continued.
She looked at him in surprise. Was he hinting at something? She decided he was. She refused to respond. After a silence that was too long, Colonel Fitzwilliam asked Mr. Oliver about his children.
Mr. Bingley often sat near her if he could. She was grateful to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who somehow managed to deflect Mr. Bingley’s persistent pursuit. Colonel Fitzwilliam did it with a finesse that made it seem coincidental.
One day, Lady Emily managed to find some time alone with Jane and spoke bluntly to her. “Colonel Fitzwilliam has little beyond his salary as a colonel. He believes he must marry for money.”
Although her tone was gentle and even sympathetic, Jane said, “I am not encouraging him.”
“I know you aren’t, not consciously. Frankly, I wish you would encourage him. He should marry. He is too circumspect to display his feelings.”
“But I have no money and some of my family is in trade.”
“My dear Miss Bennet, I’ve heard about your family from Miss Bingley. I’ve also met the Gardiners, whose company I will cultivate. Richard needs to marry. Lord Matlock may claim he doesn’t care if the title dies, but if I die, he may decide it his is duty to marry a young woman just on the chance that he will have children. If I do predecease him, I want him to do what makes him happy, not be stuck with a woman whose sole purpose is to produce children. Many people don’t know this, but Herbert was married before. His wife died after two years without becoming pregnant.”
Jane digested this. “But given that, there are wealthy women who would be happy to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“None of which he has shown an interest in. I have too much sense to try to bribe you to marry Richard, but let me say that if you did, I would welcome you with open arms. So would Herbert.”
This conversation left Jane confused. Mr. Bingley broke her heart, because he wasn’t the man she thought he was. She wanted to heal before she considered anyone else. But Richard… no, she shouldn’t think of him as Richard. Colonel Fitzwilliam. That was better. But he was so kind, whatever she called him.
While the Hursts were out visiting one of Mr. Hursts’ relatives, Charles Bingley sat in Mr. Hursts’ chair, the most comfortable one in the room. In response, Caroline kicked off her slippers and put her feet up on the sofa. She knew her brother would be annoyed, but he always attended to his own comfort first when they were alone. Her method of retaliation was to try to appear to be more comfortable, even if it bothered her to be so casual. “Why are you paying so much attention to Miss Bennet. She refused you.”
“She’s regained her looks. She’s the most beautiful woman in London. I’m sure she loved me once,” Charles replied. “Besides, it’s a permanent connection to Darcy.”
“Well, she doesn’t love you now. Mr. Darcy will probably see she lives comfortably. I’m sure he’s paying for her gowns. Why should she choose you? Colonel Fitzwilliam has better connections.”
Bingley smiled. “I have more money than Colonel Fitzwilliam. Yes, he may inherit the earldom, but the current earl is only forty-five. He might live another thirty years. His wife could die, and he could remarry and have a son.”
“What about Mr. Oliver? His mother is the daughter of a duke, for heaven’s sake. And he owns a nice estate which is rumored to bring in three thousand pounds a year.”
“Is Mr. Oliver interested in her?”
“Not yet. But when Mrs. Rutledge held that card party—”
“Mrs. Rutledge?” Charles asked.
“Mr. Oliver’s widowed sister. She lives with him and keeps house for him.”
“Oh, yes. She stayed in the background. I don’t know if he is interested in remarrying, since he has heirs, and his sister keeps house for him.”
“She won’t stay in the background for long. She will remarry,” Caroline said confidently. “She’s already wearing lavender and it’s barely been six months since her husband died. Which is why Miss Bennet made a very clever move by showing an interest in his children.”
“With three sons and a daughter from his first wife, it is unlikely Miss Bennet’s children will inherit much. Even if that was not a consideration, Miss Bennet will become an instant mother of four children. Not many women will want that.”
“For his wealth and connections? I would.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I help you?” Bingley asked.
Caroline knew it was a serious question, and her future might depend on her answer. “Because a Darcy may come and go but having a sister who’s married to the nephew of a duke will really impress the people of Hertfordshire.
“Then I think Louisa should hold a few card parties.”
“And I will find Mr. Oliver’s children adorable.”
Mr. Hurst and Georgiana soundly beat Darcy an Elizabeth at whist. The level of play at the table with Jane, Mrs. Hurst and the Bingleys was not as high. Later that evening, Darcy told Elizabeth that Mr. Hurst had wanted children, partly because he wanted to teach them. Since Mrs. Hurst was visibly pregnant, Mr. Hurst would soon be a father.
“Judging by how well he’s taught Georgiana, he’ll be a good father,” Elizabeth said.
“I wonder what kind of father I will be,” Darcy replied. “Am I reading the signs correctly? Is it possible that you are with child?”
“Yes, but I can’t be sure. As near as I can tell, it’s about two months. I didn’t want to say anything because I might have the symptoms for another reason.”
He came over and put his arms around her, gently pulling her to nestle against him. “Would you rather have the child in London or in Pemberley?”
She gave it some thought, not previously realizing she had a choice. “London, I think. I suspect I can get better care here and it now feels like home. I’ve never even seen Pemberley.”
“My sister and I were both born there, and if I gave it any thought at all, I would have assumed my children would also be born there. I now find I don’t care. I want what is best for you and for the child. If you told me you wanted the child born at Longbourn, I would have found a way to work that out.”
She smiled at him. “I don’t think my mother would give me confidence. She would probably talk about all the things that could go wrong. I know Jane doesn’t have any experience with childbirth, but I would prefer her support, and I have faith in her common sense.”
“I had already planned to keep Jane here at least that long.”
Elizabeth felt a surprising emotion: jealousy. She suppressed it with the realization that neither Jane nor Darcy would ever indulge in a relationship so improper. She managed to smile and say, “Thank you,” but wondered what her feelings for Darcy really were.
“She’s good for Georgiana,” Darcy said. Elizabeth found that attitude annoying. Wasn’t Jane good for her? No. She was being petty. Hopefully, her present pettiness was the pregnancy talking. “Jane is universally admired for her beauty, manners, and kind heart,” Darcy continued. “But Georgiana is learning she can shine in her own way.”
“She has become more confident since I first met her,” Elizabeth ventured to say.
“I was worried she was like Anne de Bourgh,” Darcy confessed, “not that I saw any signs of violence, but because in company, they behave similarly. I should say behaved similarly.”
“How does Miss de Bourgh behave?”
“She says almost nothing. She barely responds to direct questions.”
“Georgiana’s not behaving that way now,” Elizabeth said, “at least with her friends.” Georgiana met Miss Martha Duncan through the Gardiners. Miss Claudia Howard was one of Lady Emily’s nieces.
“True,” Darcy said with a smile. “I could do with a little less giggling, but when the three of them get together there is bound to be some.”
“She’s still shy without them,” Elizabeth said. “Less so now, but that isn’t unusual. I suspect you may have been shy when you were the same age.” Possibly still, Elizabeth thought.
“I was, but you’ve given me confidence. I was worried you would be unhappy, married to someone who dislikes social interactions with strangers, but I believe your Joie de vivre is still there. It’s the first thing I noticed about you, even before I appreciated your beauty. With you at my side I have the confidence to meet several new people in one evening.” He said the last sentence with a smile.
“I think Georgiana will reach that stage long before she reaches your age,” Elizabeth said.
“I’ve already thanked Lady Emily for her parties. And the Gardiners have been a great help as well. It has helped Georgiana tremendously to meet only a few new people each time and know that with cards being the entertainment, she doesn’t need to talk, but she is talking more than she was.”
Georgiana wasn’t the only one benefiting from Lady Emily’s carefully selected guest list, but Elizabeth was too wise to say that directly. “Are they a burden for you? The parties?”
“Surprisingly, no. I find I look forward to them.”
***
“I’m not looking forward to this.” Darcy was going to call on Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh, who were both in town.
“It has to be done,” Elizabeth said. “Do you know how long they have been in town?”
“They arrived yesterday.” Darcy explained. “I’ve been having someone check daily.”
“You could wait a few days without being accused of neglect.”
“I don’t want to put it off. I have a hunch that we will both be better off if I get it over with.”
“You should probably follow your hunches on this.”
He smiled at her. “If I followed my hunches, or perhaps it is my baser instincts, I would take you and Georgiana to Pemberley and never let any of us leave. I want to protect both of you. But my rational mind realizes Georgiana is better off by learning to know many people. And it also tells me that if I tried to protect you by keeping you from your family and friends, you would resent me.”
“I believe you are right about that, but you’ve been very generous about allowing me to see anyone I wish to.”
“It is because I want you to be happy,” Darcy said. “I don’t know what love is, but I can’t be happy unless you are happy.”
Elizabeth looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I am happy. I didn’t think I could be happy with someone who insulted me at first, but I am.”
“If I had dreamed that you were more than a beautiful woman who enjoyed dancing, I would have asked you to dance.”
“If that happened, I might not have gone out of my way to disagree with you,” she said.
“I’m not asking you to go out of your way to disagree with me. Only disagree with me when I am wrong.”
“A perfect wife would say you are never wrong,” she said saucily.
“You are my perfect wife, but I am not perfect. Please don’t try to give me the illusion that I am.”
Darcy left for his aunt in a much more cheerful mood than he expected to be in. He was ushered into Lady Catherine’s ornate drawing room without the servant checking to see if she was at home. Since Lady Catherine’s servants often turned away visitors, Darcy knew that she had told them to admit him. He entered the drawing room to find Lady Catherine, Anne de Bourgh, and Mrs. Jenkinson.
Anne stood up when he entered, displacing an orange cat from her lap, and came up to him, saying, “You should have married me.”
“Miss de Bourgh,” Mrs. Jenkinson chided. “You know that isn’t proper behavior.”
“Let her get it out this time,” Lady Catherine said. More softly, she muttered, “Nothing else has worked.”
Darcy braced for violence, but instead he got sort of a whine. “Mama won’t let me do anything. If I married you, I could do things. I could go out with you and not need two footmen and a maid. When I go out with Mrs. Jenkinson, Mama makes us take a footman at Rosings but two footmen in London and one of them carries a pistol. Mama won’t even let me play the piano for company.” Darcy didn’t know she could play the piano.
“Now that I’m married, you can play for me as much as you like,” Darcy said, hoping that was the right answer.
It apparently was, at least from Anne’s point of view. Judging by the expressions on the faces of the other two women, it wasn’t. Mrs. Jenkinson looked resigned and Lady Catherine had a very unusual expression on her face: embarrassment. Anne sat down at the piano and started playing. Saying she played badly, was understating it. When she made a mistake, which was very often, she went back and repeated the passage until she got it right. Usually she would make the same discordant error the first four or five times. She got more practice making mistakes than she did playing it right.
Darcy used all the restraint he had to pretend to enjoy her music. After each piece, and he could only tell she finished because she put the music away, he clapped, not loudly or long, but in mild appreciation, each time hoping she was through. What had Mr. Bennet said about his daughter, Miss Mary? You have delighted us long enough. Miss Mary’s performance was music if mediocre music. Anne’s was merely sound.
Mrs. Jenkinson quietly left the room. After she returned, a servant brought him refreshments. Darcy tried to concentrate on the food by eating very slowly and savoring each bite and sip. He wasn’t certain how long the performance lasted, but it might have been two hours. It felt like a day.
After a particularly bad attempt at correcting an error, she banged both hands on the keyboard and said to Mrs. Jenkinson, “I can’t do this. Show me how.”
Mrs. Jenkinson played the correct chords. Under the cover of the instrument, Darcy asked Lady Catherine, “How long has she been like this.”
“All her life. She was born early and terribly tiny. I didn’t trust a wet nurse and fed her myself. She just doesn’t understand so many things. She does learn, but everything must be taught, patiently and lovingly. Mrs. Jenkinson is a treasure. I got her when I thought Anne was violent. I thought I needed someone large and strong, but she’s taught Anne so much.”
“How have you kept it secret?” Every servant must know, yet Darcy hadn’t heard a rumor.
“The short answer is money. My servants are carefully selected and start out at double the normal wage. They have a day off every week. When they leave, they get a pension based on time in service. Several have left and I encourage them to keep in touch with those who are here.”
“I wouldn’t think that would keep them silent,” Darcy said. “Not all of them.”
“If the word gets out, it all disappears. The pensions aren’t paid for anyone anymore. That is for everyone. There have been death threats.”
“Death threats!”
Lady Catherine chuckled. “I believe at least one of them might be serious, but I’m not sure. But for those working for me, they eat very well and have better quarters than most servants. Mrs. Jenkinson has been banking her generous salary and has told me she would prefer to retire with a pension but wants to be prepared if there isn’t one.”
“What about visitors? Certainly, someone must have seen something?”
“Anne is usually silent in company. I’ve let it be known that she is sickly. I gave the living for the local church to an idiot, who will never guess.”
“So that’s why.” Darcy had not understood why the man his cousin described received his position.
She nodded. “His wife is bright enough, but he has silenced her.”
“Silenced her?” Darcy had visions of trying to silence Elizabeth. Fiercely, he realized no one should silence her.
“By his respect for me. Sadly, he brings out the worst in me, and I encourage it. But it leaves no room for Anne to show what she really is like.”
“Would it be helpful if I brought my wife to listen to Anne? She would be discrete.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know how to handle Anne. What frightens me is that I don’t know what will happen when I die. Fortunately, her father lived long enough so that she isn’t a temptation to most fortune hunters.”
“She won’t inherit Rosings?” Darcy asked in surprise.
“She will inherit a pension of a thousand pounds a year. There are all sorts of conditions on it. For example, if at least half of the money is not used for her maintenance by someone who lives with her, it stops. I don’t want her locked away somewhere. It would be difficult with the current will for that to happen. She is happy most of the time, especially with her cat. She also gets along well with the dogs our steward owns. Mrs. Jenkinson and her maid talk to her when others aren’t around. Her maid is paid enough she’s sending money to her daughter and putting money away for herself.”
Darcy nodded.
“I own Rosings outright. For your information, my will, written before Sir Lewis died, gives Rosings to Sir Lewis’ sister’s grandson. He’s a fine young man and will look after both the property and the tenants. He doesn’t know it, and I would prefer he didn’t. I don’t want him to live on his expectations. He’s only twenty. Also, if Richard marries Anne, I will change my will, so he inherits.”
“I don’t think Richard is interested in marrying her.”
“I don’t either. Feel free to convey this information to him. Both you and Richard have protective instincts. If he decided to marry her, I might even hand him Rosings immediately and live in London. She needs someone. She’ll outlive me.”
“Why did you tell Herbert to divorce his wife?”
“I wanted Richard to realize that he had a duty as the heir. I knew if I said something outrageous, he would pay attention. If Lady Emily died tomorrow, Herbert would still be unlikely to produce a son. I admit, I got carried away. Mainly, I wanted to prod Richard into action. Even if he doesn’t marry Anne, he should marry someone. Unfortunately, my actions make Anne think Richard will marry her. There are heiresses who would take him, but Rosings is worth more than most heiresses have. He would never find a wife as rich, and he would take care of Anne.”
“Did you ask her about the governess?” Elizabeth asked Darcy after he reported what happened.
“Yes. Anne pushed her when both were on the stairs. She fell awkwardly breaking her arm. She shouldn’t have fallen, since Anne was eight, but the governess was off balance. Lady Catherine believed Anne wasn’t aware of the consequences before she acted. There have been no repeat incidents of that kind. Mrs. Jenkinson has used kittens to teach Anne how to be gentle with animals. Anne played with a litter of kittens. Anne eventually picked one.”
“A kitten? Wouldn’t it be very fragile?”
“Yes, but kittens fight back. Anne got several scratches, but she learned what to do, or more importantly, what not to do. No one else in the house was allowed to pet Miss Kit. Anne had to feed her as well.”
“Was Miss Kit properly named?” Elizabeth felt the heat rise to her face. She shouldn’t be embarrassed to talk about this to her husband, but she wondered what would be done with the kittens. “Was ‘miss’ appropriate”
“Yes, but Miss Kit died after producing endless kittens. They kept Anne occupied. The current cat is Miss Kit’s descendant. She sleeps in Anne’s room as does her maid. Oh, and the spaniel was annoying Miss Kit when she was having kittens. Anne kicked it several times to keep it away.”
Elizabeth had an even more potentially embarrassing question, but she wanted to know. “Does Lady Catherine want grandchildren. Is that why she wants Anne to marry?”
“We did touch on that subject. Yes, she would like grandchildren, but she is much more concerned about what will happen to Anne after she dies.”
“Poor Anne.”
“Poor Anne indeed. She asked me why I married you, instead of her. I said I love you. Anne replied she wished someone loved her.” He never told Elizabeth he loved her. Elizabeth wondered if he was telling Anne the truth.
“I believe her mother loves her, from what you’ve said.”
“It isn’t the same.” Darcy took her into his arms and almost convinced her he loved her. But he didn’t say it.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam wondered why Bingley was so persistent. Miss Bennet clearly didn’t welcome his advances. There were plenty of women who would be happy to marry Bingley, including a few attractive ones with money.
Richard admitted to himself that he had never before met a woman who was such a wonderful person as well as being beautiful. It was too bad he couldn’t afford to marry a woman with no dowry. Couldn’t afford? Of course, he could afford marrying her. He’d have less money available to him, but he would hardly be impoverished. He could afford to marry her if he spent less on himself. It was certainly doable. He suddenly realized he would be happier married to Miss Bennet with having less money than with having her out of his life.
It was somewhat like drinking. He could, in the long run, enjoy himself more by drinking less. He wouldn’t need as much money to be happy if he had Miss Bennet as a wife.
The next time he saw Miss Bennet, he looked at her with different eyes. Before, she was someone to be protected from, well, not a cad. Bingley was never that. But protected from someone who was making her unhappy. Now she was someone he wanted to protect all the rest of his life. More than that, he would accept her “for poorer,” but would be proud to have her at his side “for richer,” if he became the Earl of Matlock.
The next time he saw Miss Bennet was at another card party, given by one of Lady Emily’s many nieces. The draw of the cards made him partners with Bingley against Miss Bennet and Mrs. Hurst. Richard decided Bingley was deliberately trying to lose without looking like he was doing so. If they had been playing for money, it would have been very objectionable since Bingley could afford a loss better than Richard. Because they weren’t, it didn’t matter. Richard’s happiness was not dependent on winning at cards.
“You aren’t up to your usual standard of play,” Richard said after Bingley played a card he shouldn’t have. There was no reason not to call attention to Bingley’s play.
“Miss Bennet’s beauty is so dazzling, I find it difficult to find the right card.”
“If her undoubted beauty affects your judgment, perhaps you should stay away from her.”
“That is a very good idea, Charles,” Mrs. Hurst said. Her use of his first name emphasized that she spoke to him as an older sister.
“Nothing could keep me away from her,” Bingley said, looking meaningfully at her.
Miss Bennet looked both embarrassed and angry.
“I think we should talk,” Richard said softly.
“That might be a good idea,” Bingley responded.
The game resumed in silence.
Bingley and Richard met the next day. Before Bingley could ask him what his intensions were, Richard said in a neutral, non-aggressive tone, “Miss Bennet does not appear to welcome your advances.”
“It’s all a misunderstanding and she won’t let me explain,” Bingley said.
“Are you willing to explain to me?” Richard deliberately kept his posture militarily straight, knowing it could be a little intimidating, especially, since he was taller than Bingley.
“Certainly. We got stuck on a farm because of the rain. I felt it my duty to bring my sister home, while Darcy was going to return the Bennet sisters to their home.”
Richard nodded. Darcy had briefly mentioned the incident. He resolved to get more of the story from him.
“Miss Bennet wanted to come with my sister and me. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell. My duty was to my sister. Also, I believe Miss Bennet overheard some things my sister and I said and misunderstood them. She was half asleep.”
“What did she overhear?”
“I’m not certain, of course, but I was explaining that Miss Bennet would make a good wife for me because of her sweet nature and her standing in the community. I suspect she didn’t hear me say I loved her. Hearing the end of the conversation was misleading.”
“That is, assuming you know exactly how much of the conversation you knew she overheard.”
“I can’t know, of course,” Bingley said, “but she was asleep in the other room and undoubtedly woke up hearing just the last few words spoken.”
“Then I suggest that you find a way to explain yourself. I am not going to stand by and let you bully my cousin.”
“Your cousin? Oh, since Mrs. Darcy is now your cousin, Miss Bennet is also. I thought… Never mind. Everyone knows you need to marry an heiress.”
“Yes, they do,” Richard said, happy that false information was general knowledge.
When Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh called, Georgiana and her governess, Mrs. Annesley, were visiting Georgiana’s friend Martha Duncan. Because she was forewarned, Elizabeth had some very simple sheet music positioned on the pianoforte. She spent the entire visit teaching Miss de Bourgh to play it. Miss de Bourgh’s timing was still bad, but she mostly hit the right keys by the time the visit was over. When Lady Catherine was preparing to leave, Miss de Bourgh told Darcy, “You still should have married me.”
“Nevertheless, I hope you will accept this as a gift from me,” Elizabeth said, handing her the single sheet of paper that was the song they had played.
Miss de Bourgh grabbed it and clutched it to her, saying to her mother, “Let’s go before she changes her mind.”
Darcy exchanged an amused glance with Elizabeth.
Lady Catherine said quietly before they left, “I’m glad that she had such a happy time here, but how am I going to keep the secret? I’m not sure I can keep her quiet after this visit. Your servants must know.”
Elizabeth said, “I was very public about asking the servants where I could get some simple sheet music because I heard Miss de Bourgh wanted to learn to play the pianoforte. I said that she had a couple of lessons but that was all. They believe she is a beginner.”
“Thank you,” Lady Catherine said. “I would like both of you to call on me early tomorrow. I would like your advice about Anne.”
“I hate to admit this, but I have no idea what to do about Anne,” Lady Catherine said the next day, when the three of them were alone together in Lady Catherine’s drawing room. “I’ve tried to protect her, but the protection has meant there were things she didn’t learn. In keeping her safe, I made her learn less.”
“Is she a danger to others?” Elizabeth asked.
“No.” Lady Catherine frowned. “At least I don’t think so. Mrs. Jenkinson has tried to explain to her how she can hurt people. She does learn, but slowly. The cat was an inspiration. She played with a litter of five kittens. Four of the kittens learned to dislike her and would run from her and scratch her if they were cornered. Mrs. Jenkinson used the kittens as a lesson both for dealing with kittens and people. The governess she’s hurt… she just didn’t understand the consequences. I believe she does now, but it’s taken a long time.”
“You seem to be doing fine,” Darcy said.
“But for how long? I’m almost fifty. Anne is perfectly healthy. What will happen when I die?”
“I understand you mean to leave Rosings to one of your husband’s relatives,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes. Darcy has enough money.”
It amused Elizabeth that Lady Catherine thought she was trying to get her husband to inherit Rosings. Her thoughts went a different direction. “Is this relative married? Engaged?”
“No. At least he’s not married. I haven’t heard about an engagement,” Lady Catherine replied.
“Invite him to Rosings. Let him know what Anne is like. See if he is willing to marry her and take care of her as a wife. Eventually, despite all you’ve done so far, someone will probably find out. In the hands of an honorable man, perhaps she can be cared for.”
***
“Where have you been?” Darcy’s tone was surprisingly calm. Elizabeth recognized he wasn’t happy to have returned from Lady Catherine’s to find Georgiana wasn’t home. Jane told them that Georgiana left with Mrs. Annesley to visit her two friends. Elizabeth was pleased with Darcy for accepting Georgiana’s perfectly reasonable outing. Georgiana would be less likely to enjoy herself if she met with opposition.
“Martha, Claudia and I went for a walk in Hyde Park,” Georgiana explained. “The weather was so beautiful, we really wanted to be outside. Our governesses could barely keep up. We talked about running and leaving them behind. We did run but kept in sight. We considered waiting for them, but we had pity on them and ran back. Martha’s governess was getting breathless from just the walking. Martha’s very fond of her and worried.”
“Good for her,” Elizabeth said encouragingly. Georgiana’s cheeks were rosy, and her hair had numerous strands escaping. She was more cheerful than Elizabeth had ever seen her. She hoped that Darcy understood this and didn’t discourage her.
Georgiana went on to talk about Martha’s brother, who chastised Martha for not staying with the governess. “It was more a matter of his concern about the governess’ reputation than Martha’s,” Georgiana explained. “Martha even claimed her brother cares for her governess more than her, but that’s silly. Matthew is very nice to his sister. But the governess will be leaving when Martha comes out next year, and Matthew explained that it is important that Martha guard her governess’ reputation. I found that funny because it’s backward.”
Backward, but still true, Elizabeth thought.
“Matthew?” Darcy said in deceptively mild tones.
“Mr. Matthew Duncan,” Georgiana corrected. “But Martha, uh, Miss Duncan, calls her Matthew and that’s what I think of him as.”
Elizabeth had no objection to Darcy correcting Georgiana on her overly familiar usage of names, but this obviously didn’t squelch her enthusiasm. Georgiana continued her talk about her day with encouragement from both Darcy and Elizabeth. He didn’t comment about Georgiana’s impropriety of running in such a public place. He did nothing to stem the flow of Georgiana’s description of innocent enjoyment of a fine day with her friends.
“Oh, and Mr. Bingley rode by. He stopped and talked.” Georgiana turned to Jane. “He asked after you. I told her about Lady Catherine’s picnic on Thursday. I think he plans to accidentally ride by.”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” Jane said.
“Really? Then I wish I’d given him the wrong location.”
“How can Georgiana not know that Jane is trying to avoid Bingley?” Darcy asked Elizabeth when they were alone.
“Easily. She is fifteen. Lydia’s age. She doesn’t see other people’s viewpoints. She has to learn.”
“Touché. I have to learn. I’m still learning,” Darcy said.
“We all are,” Elizabeth admitted. “I never saw your viewpoint until you explained it to me.”
“But I gave you the wrong clues. It was my fault.”
She shook her head.
“I needed you to set me right.” He took her in his arms.
There was a knock on the bedroom door. Reluctantly, Darcy got up and opened it.
Georgiana burst in. “Aunt Catherine has invited Claudia and Martha to join us on Thursday. They’ve accepted, but they’ll be bored. Can’t you tell her not to invite them?”
“Can you rephrase that?” Darcy asked.
“Miss Howard and Miss Duncan,” Georgiana corrected reluctantly.
“I don’t see how they will be bored in your company,” Darcy said, “and Lady Catherine could hardly retract the invitation, at least not without grave insult.”
“They will be bored.” Georgiana had a stubborn look.
“I have frequently been embarrassed by my relatives,” Elizabeth said. “I love them, but…. Well, let’s say there are times when I wish they would act more the way I want them to act.”
Darcy wondered why Elizabeth was changing the subject and then realized she wasn’t.
“Lady Catherine says things as if she was an oracle and everyone should believe what she says. Anne says nothing, not even the polite things everyone says,” Georgiana protested.
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and then said, “Better to get it out of the way now. They’ve already met many of your more acceptable relatives. A few you aren’t happy having them meet is not going to end your friendship. Miss Howard has probably already met Lady Catherine.”
Darcy deliberately criticized Georgiana’s informal use of first names when she made an unreasonable request. That might be too subtle for her, but he hoped to get both points across.
The weather cooperated and the picnic was held. Georgiana, and her friends behaved perfectly for the meal, but wandered off with Mrs. Annesley after everyone finished eating. Bingley “happened” to ride by and joined the group. Soon, Richard, Bingley and Jane were seated together. Lady Catherine had invited a few others who formed small groups. Anne was seated by Mrs. Jenkinson and Lady Catherine.
Since the meal was over, Lady Catherine’s footmen packed up the dishes in a carriage and took them back to Lady Catherine’s. Darcy and Elizabeth were sitting on a blanket on the grass.
Anne said in a loud voice, “Darcy should have married me.” She turned to Richard and pulled out a pistol. Elizabeth stood with remarkable grace and moved quickly and silently to be between Anne and Darcy. Not wanting to call attention to them, he scooted over, but Elizabeth also moved to keep her relative position. Darcy stood up and grabbed Elizabeth’s arm and thrust her behind him.
“Or Richard should marry me and not spend time with Miss Bennet.” Richard immediately moved to stand between Anne and Miss Bennet. Bingley got up and ran away.
“Why don’t you give the pistol to Mrs. Jenkinson?” Elizabeth said.
Anne whipped around, pointing the pistol at Darcy and Elizabeth. “It’s not safe.”
“Is that why you need the pistol?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes. Mama usually gives the pistol to a footman to make us safe. The footmen aren’t here anymore, so it’s not safe. That’s why I have the pistol.”
Richard was moving stealthily toward Anne. “Better yet, give the pistol to Colonel Fitzwilliam. He knows how to use it,” Elizabeth said.
“That’s a good idea,” Anne said. “I don’t even know how to load it.”
Richard gently took the pistol from Anne, examined it, and said, “It’s not loaded.”
Richard kept the pistol but left Anne to be cared for by Lady Catherine and Mrs. Jenkinson. He did not miss the fact that Miss Bennet had given a long look to Bingley’s retreating form. Did she have regrets?
“I’m sorry this had to happen,” Richard said while trying to think of a comforting thing to say that didn’t sound like a platitude.
Miss Bennet gave a nervous laugh. “One good thing has come out of it. Mr. Bingley won’t have the nerve to come back.”
“That’s probably true,” Richard said, “but if he does come back, don’t let him tell you he panicked.”
“Why not?”
“Because he ran away at an angle. It’s easy to shoot at someone running away. You must consider the distance, but not direction. You aim a little high. But when he’s running at an angle, you have to aim a little high and a little forward.”
“It was a smart panic.”
“Very smart. Most soldiers wouldn’t think that way with the threat of gunfire.”
“I’ll remember that. I don’t think he’ll persist, but if he does, I will remind him of his lack of chivalry.” Miss Bennet paused and then looked directly up into Richard’s eyes. “I have to thank you for your chivalry. Your bravery was a stark contrast to Mr. Bingley’s cowardice.”
“It doesn’t matter. There was no danger.”
“Did you know that?”
“No,” Richard replied. He would not lie to her to make himself seem braver, but this was the truth.
“Then you cannot deny my thanks and praise.”
“I can and do. I did not think that I should protect you because you are a woman. I did not think at all. I acted without a single thought. I wanted, no, I needed to protect you. I didn’t consider the other women here. It wasn’t just that you were the closest. I wanted to protect you. I’ll always want to protect you.”
Had he gone too far? Was she hurt by Bingley’s desertion? No. Her face showed joy, not the mild annoyance that she had at times shown Bingley.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, hoping he had said enough but not too much.
“Yes.”
Georgiana wasn’t told about Anne’s behavior and was rather unhappy their outing was cut short. Having attended to her social duties and discovered her friends did not think less of her for her odd relatives, she was free to enjoy herself.
Richard told Darcy he would inform Bingley that if he mentioned Anne’s behavior, then Bingley’s retreat would also be publicized. Darcy desperately wanted to be alone with Elizabeth. He didn’t like to exercise his authority over his wife, but she could not be allowed to stand between him and danger. But that had to wait until Georgiana wasn’t present.
But as soon as Georgiana started practicing on the pianoforte, Lady Catherine called.
With Georgiana’s music and Mrs Annesley attending to mending, Elizabeth, Darcy, and Lady Catherine could talk privately.
“What am I going to do about Anne?” she asked.
“Is she dangerous?” Darcy asked.
“Not since she was eight. This last thing, the pistol, I suppose it wasn’t too bad.”
“When is the last time she did something aggressive, like kicking a dog?” Elizabeth asked.
“When she was eight or nine,” Lady Catherine said.
“If she were a normal boy, you wouldn’t be bothered by that at all,” Elizabeth said.
“She’s not a boy,” Lady Catherine said unnecessarily.
“No, but even girls sometimes do violent things. She kicked a dog, even if it was justified. She mistreated kittens. She pushed her governess,” Elizabeth said.
“The governess even said she was willing to stay,” Lady Catherine said. “She realized Anne didn’t understand.”
“The pistol was stupid, but not violent. She knew it was unloaded,” Darcy said.
“Anne isn’t smart. It takes her forever to learn anything,” Lady Catherine said.
“Then teach her. Don’t make it quite so much a secret,” Elizabeth said.
“She can learn,” Darcy said. “She played the piano much better when Elizabeth taught her.”
“Mrs. Jenkinson is very good with her, but she is not very musical,” Lady Catherine admitted. “But if I bring in a music master, word of Anne’s, well, deficits, is bound to come out.”
“What is most important to you?” Elizabeth asked. “Anne’s happiness or secrecy?”
“Her happiness. But I believe if the knowledge is general, she will be unhappy.”
“Will she?” Darcy asked, struck by Elizabeth’s clear-sightedness. “You can control whom she sees at Rosings.”
“Start with Mrs. Collins,” Elizabeth said. “She has a good deal of common sense and the patience to deal with Miss de Bourgh.”
“Heavens, yes,” Lady Catherine said. “She’s dealing with Mr. Collins. And with me.”
When they were finally alone, much of Darcy’s anger with Elizabeth had dissipated. Nevertheless, he said, “You are never to do that again.”
“Never do what?”
“Put yourself at risk to protect me. You should have followed Bingley’s example.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I am able to obey you.”
“Why not?” he said with exasperation. “I’m supposed to protect you.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps we should protect each other. I love you.”
Although Darcy knew he moved, she also moved, and they crashed together. “And I love you. I think I fell in love with you at the assembly but was too foolish to realize it.”
Elizabeth’s and Darcy’s son was deemed old enough to travel. The three of them spent a week at Longbourn to allow Mr. and Mrs. Bennet to see their first grandchild. Mrs. Bennet only complained about the danger of having a child in London half a dozen times during the week, but also declared that her first grandchild was the healthiest baby ever. His lungs were certainly healthy.
The day before they were to leave for Pemberley, Mrs. Bennet repeated what she had said earlier about Jane. “I can’t be happy about Jane’s husband selling out. He was an officer when she married him. I’m sure she’s disappointed, although she claims she isn’t. And that property the earl gave him! The heir should have more than four hundred pounds a year. One can barely live on that. What will happen to Jane if her husband dies before the earl does?”
“He’s less likely to die if he isn’t a soldier,” Lydia said. Elizabeth looked at Lydia in surprise. When did Lydia stop thinking the only men worth paying attention to were soldiers?
“Anyone can die.” Mrs. Bennet looked at her husband.
“If he dies, Jane will have a home and four hundred pounds a year more than she would have had before,” Elizabeth said.
“Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Bennet said wearily, as if he had said it before, “Selling out means he gets money. He’ll have an income from that money.”
Elizabeth exchanged a smiling glance with her husband. Darcy had told her that Richard had about ten thousand pounds in addition to what he achieved by selling out, but that was Richard’s and Jane’s business.
“I can’t like it,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I wanted Jane to marry Mr. Bingley. Then she would have been secure.”
“Well, I’m happy she didn’t,” Lydia said with a saucy smile.
“How can you be, ungrateful girl. She would live here instead of in the north and I would see her often.”
“I’m happy because Bingley is going to come here today and ask permission to marry me!” Ignoring her mother’s shriek of joy, Lydia said to her, “He wants me to keep his sister from being so much of a snob. He said that you are a wonderful hostess, and he wants me to be one too. He told me he’s glad he didn’t marry Jane because she was nice but not fun.”
“How is Anne holding up?” Elizabeth asked Darcy, who had just returned from Lady Catherine’s funeral at Rosings. It wasn’t yet time for dinner, but Jacob, without receiving an order, sent a tray out with tea and delicious pastries filled with meat or cheese.
“Well enough. Her husband is a great support. I don’t think Richard and I will have to monitor him closely,” Darcy said after swallowing his first bite.
“Good. I would hate to see you kept away from Pemberley,” Elizabeth replied.
“Lady Catherine wrote the will when she was less sure of Matthew Duncan’s handling of Anne.”
“Well, he’s done a marvelous job. I’m sure Anne is sad her mother died, but I believe the years have been happy ones for her.”
“Even for her musical audiences,” Darcy said reminiscently. Matthew Duncan, the brother of a friend of Georgiana, had heard about Anne’s situation and suggested his sister’s governess could teach Anne music. The Duncans were planning to let her go with a small pension soon and allowed the lessons. To nearly everyone’s surprise, Anne learned to play well. She needed a great deal of help to learn every piece, but when she learned it, she practiced it and retained it. She even learned to play duets with her daughter.
“Lady Catherine’s will was interesting.”
“How so?”
“Well, as expected, Richard and I are co-trustees with Matthew being the tie-breaker. Rosings will go to Anne’s son, and young Catherine will have a generous dowry. Mrs. Jenkinson gets a very substantial pension.”
“None of that is a surprise,” Elizabeth said. “Mrs. Jenkinson deserves it, and one expects Lady Catherine to have left the bulk of her wealth to her grandchildren.”
“Matthew will get the bulk of the income from Rosings in his lifetime. But the surprise is that Sir Lewis’ sister’s grandson will get ten thousand pounds.”
“That’s generous of her, considering she expelled him from Rosings after he tried to seduce Anne.”
“Things don’t go as we expect them to,” Darcy said. “What?” he said, noticing Elizabeth’s amusement.
“I was thinking of Mrs. Oliver and the Bingleys.” Darcy smiled at that. Caroline Bingley married Mr. Oliver. They spent only a couple of weeks every year in London, but she spent most of her time raising his four children along with their five children. Elizabeth was glad she only had four. Mrs. Bingley, formerly Lydia Bennet, was a wonderful hostess, but she and Mr. Bingley had seven children, meaning that they had to cut back on entertaining to provide for them.
“Did things go as you expected?” Darcy asked.
Elizabeth smiled. “No, they were better than I expected.” He took her in his arms, and she felt grateful for the pleasure and warm comfort they gave her. Esteem may have been enough, but love was better.
~The End~ See below for a free short story.
The link given here is to a story that is fan fiction. It differs from the previous story in that it assumes the reader is aware of the characters and situations in Pride and Prejudice. Readers unfamiliar with Pride and Prejudice will be confused.