Seven Days With Mr Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  How can you be so unfeeling to your sister? What woman would want to marry a man while he loved another? Though perhaps that is more Miss Bingley’s wish, to put forward one Darcy marriage that it might lead to another?

  And now I do recall you mentioning Mr. Bingley’s want of resolve. I do not mean to absolve him of blame, though you know his weakness and have showed no difficulty in manipulating his capriciousness.

  I should not be surprised you can treat Mr. Bingley so meanly when I recall your mistreatment towards Mr. Wickham. You wilfully and wantonly threw off the companion of your youth, the favourite of your father, who had no other dependence but on your patronage and was brought up to expect it, for no other reason than jealousy of your father’s attention.

  But can you really be so dishonourable? Perhaps your actions towards Bingley are not proof of a selfish disdain for the feelings of others, but rather it does not occur to you their feelings may differ from yours. Perhaps Mr. Wickham has been misrepresented to you in some way. I am so weak as to try to find excuses for your behaviour. But these thoughts must simply be fanciful wishes on my part.

  I find myself provoking arguments with you so I might find more faults, to remind myself of why I should not esteem you. Yet when we converse, I find you are exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit me. Your understanding and temper, though unlike my own, would have answered all my wishes. By my ease and liveliness your mind might be softened, your manners improved; and from your judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, I would receive benefit of greater importance.

  To be truthful, I know no actual good of you, yet against my reason and my will I feel an unfathomable connection to you. I know you to be a proud and unpleasant sort of man. You have done nothing but give offence in Hertfordshire, giving every appearance of haughtiness towards our company and yet, this means nothing for I find that I love you.

  And I hate you for it.

  I could not be happy or respectable unless I can truly esteem my husband and look to him as a superior. How could I ever feel that way about you, with these faults in your character? You are the last man in the world I should be prevailed upon to marry, but I admit you are the first, and likely only, man I can be persuaded to love.

  Oh! I am a silly creature. That I should even see fit to remind myself that love need not lead to matrimony when you have openly shown your disdain for me, my family, and the very community in which I reside. I even know you are destined for your cousin. However, all the logic and reason in the world cannot persuade my heart from breaking at the thought of yours never being mine.

  Inexplicably yours,

  Elizabeth Bennet

  Darcy could not credit what he read. Elizabeth loved him! He perused the letter again, entirely uncertain why she had mailed it in the first place. Only to berate him? To declare her sentiments anyway, in some small glimmer of hope?

  Darcy could not determine a satisfactory answer to his question. It does not matter why it has been sent. My honour has been engaged, and I love her. The other letters have been sent, and the arrangements have been made. We shall marry. We shall!

  His reverie was interrupted by his butler’s entrance with an express from Mr. Bennet. With great uncertainty, he read the message. It was as sufficiently brief, seemingly disinterested, and written with the same kind of wry sense of humour Darcy had come to expect of the man.

  December 10, 1811

  Longbourn, Hertfordshire

  Dear Mr. Darcy,

  I request an audience with you at your earliest convenience. I invite you to stay and dine with the family. I do believe Mrs. Bennet has ordered fish for tonight.

  Yours etc.,

  T. Bennet

  Darcy wondered if Mr. Bennet would have even bothered at all if not for his favourite daughter’s reputation being at stake. The letter he had written George Wickham, after the cur had attempted an elopement with his sister, was decidedly more forceful and less kind. Pondering Mr. Bennet and all other matters would have to wait. His carriage was ready, and so was he. He hoped.

  *****

  Longbourn

  1:00 pm

  Thomas Bennet glanced at his watch and wondered if Darcy would have received his express by now. He was surprised when not many more minutes passed before an express rider was announced.

  Tuesday, December 10, 1811

  Darcy House, London

  Dear Mr. Bennet,

  I must speak with you immediately on an urgent matter. You may expect me this afternoon before dinner. I shall stay at Netherfield Park, so as not to inconvenience your family.

  Yours etc.,

  F. Darcy

  Mr. Bennet sighed with immense relief when he read Mr. Darcy’s plans and realized it must have been sent before the young man had received Mr. Bennet’s express. Why would he come unbidden after writing he would not marry her? Mr. Darcy, you puzzle me exceedingly!

  Although offended at the man’s words in Elizabeth’s letter, he could easily see the sincere admiration Mr. Darcy held for Elizabeth shine through. Recalling his own courtship from many years before, he hoped the young man’s affection was strong enough to ask for her hand in marriage should the letters remain unknown.

  *****

  Fitzwilliam House

  1:00 pm

  “Good G-d! Can it be?” Richard Fitzwilliam exclaimed just inside his father’s study, drawing the notice of his younger sisters who were walking by.

  “Richard, we did not know you had come already!” the younger, Alice, spoke. The pair greeted him with a kiss.

  “Yes, I am hiding from our aunt, what else?”

  “What are you reading?” asked Emilia, the older sister, while glancing at the letter in her brother’s hand.

  “Darcy is to be married! He wrote father!”

  “Married?” Emilia cried in disbelief.

  “To whom?” Alice desired to know.

  “A Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. Do you know of her?”

  The sisters shared a look and replied in the negative.

  “He met her while visiting the estate his friend Bingley is renting in Hertfordshire.”

  “Hertfordshire? He has been there all this time? I thought he returned to Town recently.” Alice asked.

  “All this time? He is marrying a woman of six weeks acquaintance, for he has been in Town for nearly a fortnight now. Oh, how do we know she is not a fortune hunter?” Emilia interjected with alarm.

  “Darcy would never succumb to a fortune hunter, but oh! How romantic to be swept away with love while on a holiday!”

  “Calm yourself, Milly. Darcy has withstood London’s most mercenary ladies and their mammas. Alice, you should know he could never be carried away by romance and infatuation. The attachment may seem sudden, but I trust his decision.”

  The scurrying footsteps of a frightened maid reminded them all of the visit of one who would not trust their cousin’s decision nor find his choice romantic. Glancing at the clock in the study, they reached a decision unanimously.

  “I will request our outerwear be brought to us and the carriage pulled around. Might we drop you off at your club before we call on our friends?” Emilia asked her brother.

  Being the superb tactician that he was, and reaffirming that discretion was the better part of valour, Richard promptly replied, “I believe that quite the prudent plan, my dear, clever sister.”

  Alice snorted. “It is less a mark of cleverness than it is a matter of survival.”

  A short time later as they entered the carriage, they all smiled privately, for not only was their dear cousin to be married, but they had, not mere juicy gossip, but the finest hard intelligence of the year!

  *****

  Darcy Carriage, London outskirts

  1 pm

  On the ride to Hertfordshire, Darcy’s apprehension became apparent to his sister.

  Georgiana placed her hand on his arm, pulling his gaze from the scenery out the window, and asked, “
William, are you well?”

  “Very.”

  “Truly? To me, I would call your expression anxious or nervous, but I have never known you to harbour such feelings.”

  “I only worry for you, dear. You are certain you will be content without Mrs. Annesley until she recovers?” Georgiana’s companion had become ill overnight.

  “Certainly.” She grinned from ear to ear, a sight Darcy had not seen in many months. “I shall soon be in the company of five young ladies! Can you tell me about them?”

  Bingley broke in with a grin, “Better to not ask him about some of the Bennets, Georgiana.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “He does not approve of most of them, save Miss Bennet and his Miss Elizabeth.”

  Georgiana cast confused eyes upon her brother. “Is this true? Why would you disapprove?”

  Before Darcy could reply, his friend answered for him. “He considers Mrs. Bennet and the younger daughters to be silly and vulgar, and believes that even Mr. Bennet can act imprudently.”

  Georgiana scoffed, “Methinks he doth protest too much! Can they be worse than our Aunt Catherine? How many times has she attempted to put you into a compromising position with Anne? And can Mr. Bennet hold his drink or does he turn into a nonsensical lout like the Earl? And let us not forget the Judge…”

  “Enough, Georgiana.” Darcy’s tone effectively silenced his sister and Bingley.

  Georgiana pulled out a book. Bingley began to feel the effects of his recent habits and fell asleep. Darcy turned his attention to his letter from Elizabeth.

  Darcy finally allowed himself time to ponder Elizabeth’s letter. He was quite certain it was sent without her reading his, and some of the smears indicated she did not write with ease of mind. There was a large blot next to her declaration of love, as though she wrote unawares and was startled by the revelation herself. It did not appear a final copy, neither were the directions clear. While this puzzled him greatly, he chose not to waste time on what he knew he could not answer.

  Instead, he considered her feelings. She had every reason to dislike him. Whereas he recalled their debates—and he was firm in calling them so—at Netherfield as almost flirtatious, Elizabeth found only fault. The very conversations that showed her intellect and wit, which deepened his attachment, must have served to confirm her suspicions against his character.

  He realized his manners, from the beginning, must have given her an impression of arrogance, conceit, and a selfish disdain for the feeling of others, and laid the groundwork for disapprobation. He could only pray that her dislike was not immovable and he could earn her esteem. He had very little hope. He doubted the love she felt for him, against her reason, was hearty enough to withstand the added insult his letter gave.

  Darcy knew that he found it difficult to socialise in new company given his shyness, but he also knew it was often misinterpreted for arrogance, due to his prestige, and that he frequently gave offence. While he did not avoid conversing out of arrogance, he did not care if his reticence offended those around him. Elizabeth’s accusations were formed on mistaken premises, but his behaviour warranted the reproof.

  The fact was, he had disapproved of the behaviour of the Bennets, amongst other Hertfordshire society, and did not care to make himself agreeable. Georgiana’s words were correct: his own family scarcely behaved better. He winced again as he thought of his letter. Darcy fervently prayed Elizabeth had never read it, and that Mr. Bennet alone knew of it. While it would do no good for him in the eyes of Mr. Bennet, at least Elizabeth would never have read his arrogant feelings on the idea of their match. That I write of love in one sentence and call her unworthy in the next!

  After some time his thoughts turned on a different course. Elizabeth was not likely to be alone in her disapproval of his behaviour. Mr. Bennet was not known to be overly cautious with his family’s reputation, nor diligent in his affairs. If Mr. Bennet managed to keep Darcy’s letter a secret, there would be no imperative to marry to avoid scandal. Darcy had, several hours earlier, realized he would do all in his power to marry Elizabeth, scandal or not. But if Mr. Bennet disliked him, or even knew of Elizabeth’s dislike, then he might very well refuse Darcy’s suit, especially if he felt insulted by the contents of Darcy’s letter, feelings that were only natural and just. The express he received from Mr. Bennet had been less than explicit.

  The knotting sensation in his stomach grew when he recalled he had only managed to complicate matters when he planned to minimize any possibility of scandal by sending letters to his uncle and his solicitor announcing he had been engaged for weeks. How presumptuous of me!

  His foreboding increased when he recalled he was missing a dinner at the Earl’s house, and Lady Catherine was to be in attendance. Not only would she be incensed by his revelation, it meant Richard would be dining in the house; he was a snoop and a gossip outright. Additionally, the countess and his female cousins would gladly share his news widely! At the moment he was hard-pressed to understand why he had ever been so critical of Mrs Bennet and the gossips of Meryton.

  Neither Mr. Bennet nor Elizabeth was likely to be pleased with his actions. He knew not whether to race towards Longbourn and demand his bride, or to slow in an effort to forestall the confrontation.

  Chapter Four

  Longbourn

  1:00 pm

  After some passage of time, Elizabeth determined she could not hide in her room all day. Hearing her on the stairs, Mr. Bennet called her into his study.

  “Elizabeth, I have an express from Mr. Darcy, and it was certainly sent before he ever received mine.”

  She chewed her bottom lip to hide her anxiousness while her father continued. “He writes he will arrive this afternoon and must speak with me on a matter of great importance. I believe he will offer to marry you, after all.”

  “Let us not insist…” she desperately wished to marry him, but not if their marriage would harm him in some way; not if it was only out of duty. That was no basis for a marriage built on mutual respect.

  “I must tell you if the letters are known to exist and it is presumed you are engaged, I will have to demand it of his honour, for your sisters’ sake. You are being too missish now. You said you loved him.”

  “I do! But…”

  “You read his letter, so you have seen our reports of his character were false. He is honourable. It will all be settled.”

  She was shooed from the room and did not doubt her father’s words. She had come to believe highly in Darcy’s honour. He would offer to marry her even if her own words killed his love, but the thought was bittersweet. If only she had seen his true worth earlier and had not been so blinded by prejudice and wounded vanity!

  With such disheartened thoughts Elizabeth entered the drawing room, and soon thereafter Mr. Wickham and some other officers entered to call on the ladies. He began his familiar complaints about Darcy, but Elizabeth could not stand for it.

  “I wonder, Mr. Wickham, that you were not able to find another parish.”

  He shifted his eyes uncomfortably and paused before answering. “My only contacts were through Darcy, and his malice was so strong he would not see me settled anywhere.”

  “Surely he cannot have such power over the entire kingdom, sir. Perhaps when my ordained cousin, Mr. Collins, returns in a few days he might have a recommendation for you.”

  Mr. Wickham winced, and Elizabeth continued. “I only thought, sir, it would be a shame for you to waste your education and what must assuredly be a vocation for you. If you have the opportunity to give sermons and get some part of your just due—after all a clergyman earns more than a militia officer—then it must be worth any pain to your pride.”

  He gave her a glare at the reminder of his income.

  “For you would have spent three years studying for ordination and two years since awaiting orders somewhere, I believe.”

  Mr. Wickham’s friend, Captain Denny, perked up then. “Ordination? I know I met you three years ago whe
n you lived at Lincoln’s Inn.” Wickham stomped on his friend’s foot. The following exclamation of pain brought the notice of the room.

  He attempted to explain as all eyes focused on him, but sounded unconvincing. “Darcy had made it plain at his father’s death, just as I was finishing at Cambridge, that he would deny me the living. I sought to study the law instead.”

  Elizabeth hid her smirk at how fast his story changed. “That would have been a very great thing for you, indeed! But whatever happened? How could you afford it in the first place?”

  “I was given a bequest of one thousand pounds.”

  “I am glad to hear Mr. Darcy was not so hateful after all, to not give you anything from the will and that you were able to study. Such a sum must have covered all your costs.” One thousand pounds to study the law was just sufficient but an additional three thousand pounds was more than enough for educational and reasonable societal pursuits alike.

  “There is that…but the living ought to have been mine.” He clearly chose not to address the fact that apparently he did not face the bar and could only blame it on his poor understanding or running low on funds and not finishing his education.

  “I rather recall you mentioning it could be treated as conditional only, as Mr. Darcy claimed you rather extravagant.”

  She paused, and Mr. Wickham gaped, searching for something to say.

  “But then, we cannot think so generously of Mr. Darcy. Instead, let us consider the good fortune his father bestowed upon you by ensuring with every lawful means you received the one thousand pounds, to give you such a start in life.”

  “Yes, I will forever be grateful for the kindness of the father.”

  “It does you credit that you have not forgot him.”