by D. L. Carter
“Settled down to await the arrival of the enemy,” said Darcy. “The father sits downstairs watching the constable. The constable demands that he be permitted to chain Miss Elizabeth to her bed!”
“The presumption of the man. They cannot permit it!”
“I believe Miss Jane will spend the night with her sister, for their mutual safety.”
“I was thinking, when I rode home,” said Bingley. “Did your aunt speak to the local constable? Was the Sergeant from Hunsford the only constable she brought with her?”
Darcy gaped at him. “Surely … I cannot believe my aunt would be so lost to common sense. Wait, yes, she is. I cannot account for her reasoning.”
“I am sorry, Darcy but I cannot think that your aunt’s arrival could not have happened at a worse time.”
“I agree. But I have done some good, I think, on my way here. Come, join me for a nightcap and I shall reveal all I know.”
***
Barely had they turned from the door than a clatter of footsteps descended the main stairs and Caroline hurried to join them.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy!” she cried, then caught sight of her brother and stopped. “I see you are busy, but I must beg a moment of your time. Please.”
“What is it that you need that cannot wait until morning?” demanded Bingley.
“Mr. Darcy’s aunt retired to bed early and in a temper,” said Caroline. “But has ordered you should present yourself to her at eight of the clock tomorrow.”
“Consider the message delivered. Is that all, Miss Bingley?”
“Ah…” she shot a sideways glance toward her brother but he folded his arms and leaned against the door.
“Do not mind me,” said Bingley. “Proceed.”
“It is a housekeeping matter, Mr. Darcy. I was seeking your advice on how to make your aunt's stay at Netherfield more comfortable.”
“Do not trouble yourself,” said Darcy, too tired to be politic. “My aunt is never happy.”
“But I do want to make a good impression upon her and see to all her needs.”
Darcy sighed and slumped. The hour was late, the day had been draining, and he still could not see a good outcome for any involved. As far as he could assess no matter how hard any person involved labored, the scandal brought down on the Bennet household would never end. No matter if Bingley married Miss Jane, as they both seemed to desire, their future was tainted. Miss Bingley, with her unrealistic expectations, was doomed to disappointment and his aunt? He swallowed a groan.
“Miss Bingley, I understand your motivation and I hope you will respect my privacy and never repeat this in company, but it is never possible to make my aunt happy. Likewise you could never fulfill all her needs. She is destined to go through life a grasping, ambitious lady. Were we to suddenly elevate her to be the Queen of England she would grumble that she was not the Queen of the World.” He met Caroline’s startled gaze. “If you wish to complete this short visit with your own pride intact, grant her as much courtesy as you think appropriate to a lady of a certain age and temperament and be prepared to be disdained, insulted and abused for your labors.”
With that Darcy turned and stomped down the hall to his chamber. Once inside he waited, leaning against the wall, while his valet stared. A few minutes later a knock came on the door.
“Come in, Bingley.”
“Darcy? I say, Darcy, where have you been?”
“Discovering the source of the gossip. You will not credit it, Bingley. I can barely give it credence myself.”
“By God, tell me. Who?”
“Do not invoke the Lord tonight, Charles. He must take His share of the blame and I am angry with him as well.”
Bingley stared at him open-mouthed for long enough time for the valet to cough and Darcy to sigh and sink into a chair. The valet approached with brandy for both, his ears wide and mouth shut.
“What the devil do you mean?” asked Bingley.
“That damned curate, Fitzwallace.”
For Darcy to explain in full his discovery of the extent of Mr. Fitzwallace’s malicious gossip in service of his application for Lady Catherine’s preferment - the night was further advanced and both men were yawning.
“There is nothing to be done,” said Darcy, finally. “He refused to apologize but I have come to believe that will do no good even if he were to declare his faults and take the blame. The scandal involving the Bennets is so deeply entrenched in local society that they shall not be free of it in a hundred years. Even Mr. Prescott’s apology this coming Sunday will not redeem them.”
“Your aunt’s accusation helps matters not at all. Oh, this is horrible. When the news gets out that the accusation of inappropriate behavior came from a curate, even if it is wrong, lies, it will be so much the worse!”
Darcy groaned and leaned forward, his head in his hands.
“You do not know the half of it my friend.”
***
The morning brought no relief to Mr. Darcy’s sensibilities or distress. His aunt’s summons to her chambers came at the same time as a note arrived from Mr. Jeffers informing all involved that the coroner’s court was reconvening at Longbourn at noon. This message was quickly followed by another, stating at the request of Lady Catherine, the court was convening at Netherfield at one in the afternoon.
This notice put Caroline Bingley into such a state that she near to achieve the same level of fluttering of her nerves and beatings of her heart - as well as shrill contradictory orders to the servants - as to compete with Mrs. Bennet at her best.
After an hour of that behavior it was necessary for her brother to send her to her room to rest with a cool sachet of spent lavender tea over her eyes.
Caroline’s ambition to separate herself from this event was defeated by Lady Catherine who, when she descended to arrange the parlor to her satisfaction, sent a sharply worded message to Caroline, summoning her to move the furniture.
Darcy had spent the morning in what passed for Netherfield’s library, consulting the few books with legal references he could find. There was little enough available in his perusal and he emerged to exit the house and await the arrival of the Longbourn party, disheartened to the extreme.
He paced the side of the building, keeping an eye on the arrivals as the men of the jury, called from their labors arrived but Darcy approaching none of them.
The summons to attend his aunt passed from his memory in his distress. She, however, was well aware of the slight and determined to punish him. When Lady Catherine received the report that Darcy was in the garden she was not slow in confronting him. The extreme nature of her distress was such that instead of promoting her family’s privacy she sought the greatest possible exposure. Therefore she insisted that Caroline should accompany her to the garden. Caroline’s haggard expression when he saw them moved Darcy to pity for the first time in their acquaintance.
“Darcy!” cried Lady Catherine as she descended to the grounds. “What is this? How dare you disobey me?”
“Dare, madam? I was not aware that I was your servant and bound by that relationship to obedience.”
“Such disrespect I am not accustomed to meeting,” declared his aunt. “What has this neighborhood done to you?”
“Indeed, Lady Catherine,” said Caroline, “I have spoken thus to my brother, warning him of the dangers of such a locality.”
“Be silent, girl, while your betters converse,” snapped Lady Catherine without turning her head. “Darcy, I will be satisfied. What has become of your manners? Of your awareness of the consequence of our family? You are nephew to an Earl. To a bishop. Surely such matter as this murder does not concern you? It is better left to those whose trade it is.”
“I should say the same to you, aunt,” said Darcy. “When did finances at Rosings Park degenerate to a degree that required you to join the ranks of thief catchers?”
“You have accused me of that before and I deny it in the strongest possible terms. It is justice I seek.”
> “It is revenge you seek,” shot back Darcy. “Mr. Collins had the bad taste as to die before you tired of him. He failed to bring you a wife to give you a taste of companionship. To provide a woman dependent on your good will who would not criticize your nonsense and reject your endless advice.”
Lady Catherine stood, barely able to draw breath in her rage. Caroline huddled into herself, not willing to bring that wrath down on herself. Her face pale and servile, withdrawn manner implied; she fully believed Mr. Darcy’s accusations of Lady Catherine's capacity for abuse and revenge.
“But before I leave here, aunt, hear me,” whispered Darcy. “With my last breath I shall see to it you have no power over any person outside our family. We, sadly, must endure the burden that is all that you say, all that you do, but outside our family it would be best if your power were limited. I shall advise the magistrate and the constable who are your creatures that the Earl of Matlock shall be taking an interest in their careers, provided they pay more attention to the law than to the witterings of an old, selfish woman!”
Lady Catherine stared at him, shocked.
“I never thought to hear words such as these from you, Darcy!”
“Why not, madam? It is you who taught them to me.”
Bingley, who had joined them in time to hear Darcy’s declaration, stepped forward, quite bravely under the circumstances, drawing everyone’s attention to himself.
“Darcy, there are a number of carriages arriving. We should prepare to receive them.”
“Indeed,” said Lady Catherine. “Bring them to the larger of the parlors.”
“I believe the disposition of his guests falls to Bingley, as master of this house,” Darcy reminded her.
Lady Catherine sniffed. The word “trade” could be heard muttered under her breath but no one saw fit to acknowledge the insult.
“Given the numbers,” said Bingley, “I was thinking the ballroom has all those chairs. We should not be overcrowded there.”
“A good idea, Bingley,” said Darcy and, turning his back on his aunt, extended his arm toward Caroline.
“Miss Bingley,” cried Lady Catherine. “Come here, girl and be useful.”
Caroline Bingley, who had spent the last several years waiting for Mr. Darcy to extend her that preferment, those courtesies, sent a beseeching look toward him.
“Madam,” said Darcy to his aunt. “Miss Bingley is Mr. Bingley’s hostess. She must welcome the new arrivals. If you require assistance with walking I suggest you speak to a servant, not the mistress of the house.”
Lady Catherine glared as Caroline who, with a curtsy, hurried away.
“Another person who does not know her place in the world,” sneered Lady Catherine. “Be careful of that one. I can see she would ensnare you with feminine arts and allurements if she could. Both she and her brother are unworthy of your company, Darcy. When you marry Anne I will not continence your continued acknowledgment of a family in trade!”
Darcy knew the power of his aunt’s personality and suddenly his own path was clear. He would not marry Anne. Clearly Lady Catherine intended to continue her persecution of Miss Elizabeth therefore Darcy considered himself free of his promise and would put his life, money, authority behind the task of seeing her free.
He nodded to himself and led the parade around to the forecourt.
Already disembarked were Mr. Jeffers, Squire Pennington, and their guest Sir Michael of Hunsford. They bore with them a number of heavy tomes, likely law books, and references.
All of the jurors had responded to the call, despite other responsibilities and daily duties. Darcy studied their curious, eager faces and decided most of them didn’t come to see justice done but to gain firsthand the next round of gossip.
Mr. Prescott was there. When Darcy looked about for the curate he was not surprised to see the man coming to make his bow to Lady Catherine.
Darcy’s sympathy was all with the people of Hunsford, who, if Lady Catherine had her way, would soon have another useless pandering gossip instead of a man of God to pray over them.
Bingley walked through the crowd trying to persuade them to enter the house but the urge to gossip would not be denied and the men crowded round. It was not until the Bennet carriage crested the hill, and all fell silent, that the reason was revealed. No one wanted to miss one moment of the Bennet family’s shame.
Chapter Twenty-one
Mr. Bennet could be described as beyond astonished when Mr. Bingley was announced early that morning. He had spent a very uncomfortable night on a fainting couch relocated from his wife’s chamber to the top of the staircase and every creak and rattle of the house brought him out of his shallow sleep fearing that the constable and his chains were coming for one of his children.
Truth be told the constable had tried once to mount the stairs and once to seek a servant’s path to the upper floor and been thwarted both times by faithful servants.
Whether his determination to clap Miss Elizabeth in chains was driven by his perception of law and justice, or his seeking the vails paid by a good family for the upkeep and safety of an imprisoned daughter, it is best not to inquire.
Mr. Bennet was not, therefore, well inclined toward his early visitor, but Mr. Bingley was escorted to the bookroom where Mr. Bennet was sampling his breakfast coffee.
“Well, sir, what disaster could possibly bring you here at this hour?”
“Not a disaster, sir,” said Bingley. “Only my deepest respect and regard for your family has brought me.”
“So you say.” Mr. Bennet settled a shawl over his shoulders and hunched over the steaming coffee. There was a delay of a few moments then the older man sighed and rang the bell to summon a servant. “Might I offer you some coffee, Mr. Bingley?”
“Thank you. That is, I came out without breakfast today.”
“How does that vary from the last week?” inquired Mr. Bennet with a touch of his previous humor. “Come lad, do not torment an old man. Why are you here?”
The housemaid took the command to fetch more food and coffee departed while Mr. Bingley rehearsed his speech. Finally he stood and declared.
“Mr. Bennet, as you know, I proposed marriage to your eldest daughter…”
“It is as well that you clarified that. I am over-supplied with daughters.”
Accustomed as he was with the bite of Mr. Bennet’s humor Bingley considered under the circumstances it was unwarranted and pressed on.
“At the time I proposed Miss Jane declined, saying she wanted to stay with her mother and sisters and share with them the burden of the entirely inappropriate and undeserved scorn of society. Additionally she declared she would not give herself the joy of marrying me until all her family were free of this weight.”
“So she told me.”
“Sir,” said Bingley. “I have been giving the matter endless thought and have come to an alternative conclusion. It is my thought that Miss Jane, who is all kindness and sweetness, does not want to bring the scandal down on my house and family.”
“That does not surprise me.”
“But I know you realize, I have stood firm and strong in the face of scorn in this matter. My heart remains constant. For your daughter I am willing to face society down or ignore them entirely. I know Miss Elizabeth did nothing wrong. Likewise I judge the gossips to be the lowest level of society and will not permit them to dictate the manner in which I am to be happy.”
“And what is this happiness you seek?” ground out Mr. Bennet. “Do you imagine that you will live a life of serenity and bliss without recourse to the fashionable world? That is unrealistic, my friend. There will come a time you will regret the action.”
“No, Mr. Bennet, I swear to you I shall not. My regard, my love for your daughter shall not vary.” Bingley paused and gave a self-conscious grin. “It surprises me as much as you, no doubt, but the more I see my dearest Jane…”
Mr. Bennet glared and him and coughed.
“Apologies. Your Miss Jane. The
more I see the unjust treatment leveled against her the more I am compelled, if you will, to see, to mend, to act.”
Mr. Bennet went back to stirring his coffee and raised his eyes to stare at the younger man. Bingley stood as tall as he could and tightened his jaw, striving for and possibly failing at looking strong and reliable. Strange, never had anything meant so much to him and been so difficult to achieve.
To struggle was a most unusual experience for a young man who had gained most of what he desired in life by a combination of being born into a rich family, being personable and friendly, and very good luck.
Now he was standing on a precipice, preparing to do something so difficult that he was likely to fail and he could not resist, could not change, could not turn away.
“Mr. Bennet, when I proposed to your daughter she turned me away giving the excuse that she did not want to leave her family. That she wanted to stay and provide them with support and, at the time, I was willing to accept that as her true motivation.”
“And now?”
“And now I have come to suspect she refused me because she was afraid and, that she loved me.” Bingley blushed to say the words. “She sent me away because she didn’t want to marry me until she was certain the scandal would not spill over onto me. I have to say, realizing that, I also understood the degree to which she loved me.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “That is something she would do.”
“But, sir, I disagree with her reasoning. I see no reason to postpone our life together, to let narrow minded fools to rule our lives. Sir, I beg you, please, call your daughter. Tell her that to refuse my suit is to give those gossips too much power. Help her to see that to marry me is the best thing she can do for her sisters!”
“You will stand by her?” asked Mr. Bennet. “Do you promise me?”
“I shall do better than that. I shall promise her! Please, permit me to speak with her this morning, before the coroner’s court is called to order a second time. I do not want her facing this day believing she is alone. That she is anything less than perfect in my eyes. If you would, please grant me your daughter’s hand in marriage and her heart to love and protect all my days.”