Elizabeth was to learn later, while describing the scene to Mrs. Reynolds, that Darcy did not have particularly good aim – it was all bluff. But it worked – the colonel became pale with rage.
“And a word to the wise,” Darcy continued. “If any accident were to befall me, such as a stray bullet during training practice, maybe, or a strange unexplained demise in the middle of the night… Please know that I have written to my uncle, the Earl of Matlock, about our difficulties here. The Earl answered that those are not the first incidents you have been implicated in, Colonel – he seems to think that you have rather a lot of enemies and that if anything were to happen to me or the ones I hold dear, he would happily – what were his words? Oh yes. ‘Put you down like a dog.’”
The following days were, unsurprisingly, very tense. Darcy considered sending his sister to London, to her aunt and uncle – but the roads were unsafe.
Soon Georgiana had another reason to grow somber. With the financial trouble of the domain, the young girl’s dowry was gone – and the Viscount’s letters had discontinued.
At first Georgiana feared the worst – maybe the absence of letters meant her favorite had been harmed in Scotland, where his family had sent him to look after some of their remaining property… the situation was no better in Edinburgh than it was in Derbyshire. But the young lady soon learnt that those fears were unfounded – and was seized by more personal ones. News from their London relations confirmed that the Viscount had been back in town, safe and sound, before leaving again for another estate. He had been seen talking and laughing at one of Mrs. Egerton friends’ dinner – so the only explanation was that with his family in some financial difficulties, as were most of great families in England, the Viscount had decided to forego Georgiana and her recent loss of fortune in favour of one of the few remaining young heiresses on the market.
It was hard – very hard – to see Georgiana’s illusions and hopes shattered, her innocence lost – it was almost too much to bear for her brother, who would have protected her against the world – and could not.
It was also hard for Elizabeth, in a different manner. She was a pillar of strength for both brother and sister – whatever her fears for the future, she had to strive to make her companions smile – and I hope you will forgive our heroine, dear reader, if we admit there was also a selfish aspect into Elizabeth’s reaction to the news. If the Viscount had chosen money – if in such severe circumstances, romantic expectations, selfless devotion, all that was good, fair and passionate was to be cast aside, then… but Elizabeth would not show her worries – she was all smiles and comfort to Georgiana.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth was thinking about her young charge, in fact, and the best way to cheer her up when a new incident arose.
It had been a rainy day. Soldiers were cooped up inside the farms or in the barns where they had been assigned to live. Elizabeth had come to carry a basket and give some practical help to an ailing elderly couple; she was accompanied by a footman. The soldier living in the house had a little too much to drink and began to act erratically – he had his gun in hand, and the two occupants were terrified.
Elizabeth ordered the man to put the gun down but he did not comply, and instead accidentally discharged the weapon. Fortunately, the only casualty was a very old terracotta pot, but the sound had terrified them all. The detonation noise seemed to shake the soldier from his trance, and he apologized profusely – he was the seventh son of an impoverished farmer in Wales; he had elderly parents himself – he was sincerely horrified by what had almost happened.
But somehow, the incident came to the ears of his senior officers.
“Your mistress is not permitted to issue orders to soldiers,” Elizabeth heard the colonel tell Darcy the next day, while she was passing in the hall. “You may fuck her every night, but we will not get fucked in our turn. See that she behaves, or I will make her.”
Darcy’s voice was perfectly calm – and perfectly cold.
“Miss Bennet is not my mistress, she is my cousin – furthermore, she is engaged to the second son of the Earl of Matlock, Colonel Fitzwilliam. And if anything were to happen to her,” Darcy concluded with a venomous menace, “then you should expect that something even more unfortunate will happen to you. My servants are very loyal to me.”
Elizabeth had never heard such naked hatred in Darcy’s voice before – she ran quickly upstairs, her heart beating – for someone who thought “disguise of all sorts was his abhorrence,” the master of Pemberley was becoming quite skilled at deceit. The colonel seemed to have been intimidated enough by the exchange, but Elizabeth had no illusions that he would remain cowed. The situation would now be untenable. Elizabeth began to seriously fear for Darcy’s life – and for her own.
∞∞∞
The next morning there was some commotion in the hall. A rider had just arrived. Georgiana heard a strong, masculine voice, and stood up – she seemed ready to faint – the Viscount entered the breakfast parlor.
“Philip,” Georgiana whispered – he walked right to her, looking exhausted, and dirty from the long ride.
He took Georgiana’s hands in his. “Do not believe what they say – what my family says – you are to be my wife and nobody will stand between us…” He spoke with all the hurry and passion of his personality, Georgiana could not answer, she was trembling, tears swelling in her eyes – then the Viscount realized there were two other people in the room.
“Darcy, Miss Bennet…” He bowed to the latter. “How do you do?”
Elizabeth could not help laughing. “Very well, sir, thank you. May I interest you in some coffee?”
“You still have coffee? Oh, please,” the Viscount said, with a relieved smile, while Georgiana sank onto her chair and Darcy began with a stern voice, contradicted by the satisfaction in his eyes,
“I presume you are here to ask for my sister’s hand, sir?”
“Yes, yes, quite,” the Viscount said, looking with some envy at the breakfast rolls, “I am starving. May I help myself?”
He did, and Georgiana burst into tears of joy. All rolls were forgotten while the young gentleman took her hands again and poured her heart to her – if they had been alone, he would certainly have kissed her, and maybe did later in the day when the circumstances arose. Before that he had explained that his letters had been intercepted by his mother, who wished him to make a more profitable union – but the true situation had been more ambiguous, as the Viscount explained to Elizabeth a few days later, while they were taking a stroll in the garden.
They politely saluted one or two officers, while walking toward one of Elizabeth’s favorite path. The Viscount’s arrival had eased the terrible tension between Darcy and the colonel. The military man was now more respectful, if grudgingly so. It may have been the power of the Viscount’s rank, or maybe it was just the presence of another man in the house, a well connected one, who could act as Darcy’s second if the need arose, and bear witness of any wrongdoings.
But all of this was very far from the Viscount’s mind – his thoughts were only of his betrothed.
“The truth is, Miss Bennet,” the Viscount began, when they were alone, “I hope I do not burden you, if I take you as my confidante…”
“Not at all, sir,” Elizabeth answered smilingly, “I am accustomed to it, and enjoy the role.” The thought crossed her, though, that she dearly needed her own confidante, in those fraught circumstances, but the Viscount continued.
“I said that my letters were intercepted, and they were but…” He sighed. “The truth is, my parents were very convincing, and I did forsake Georg– Miss Darcy, for a while. I told them I would make a wiser choice. I met a few young ladies, and…” The young man paused. “One morning I woke up and realized that I could not imagine my existence with a different woman by my side. I know it sounds strange…”
“No – I quite understand the feeling.”
“So I told my parents I had changed my mind, and that I w
as going to ride to Pemberley to propose to Miss Darcy – which, unfortunately, caused quite a disagreeable scene.”
“I do imagine.”
“My mother made some threats – my father disowned me – indeed I find myself in dire financial straits – but if Georgiana does not mind…”
He sought Elizabeth’s opinion as to whether he should tell his betrothed the truth about his few weeks of inconstancy. Elizabeth urged him to be sincere. The Viscount followed her advice, and that discussion must have ended very well, because the two young people were all smiles and wistful gazes on the morrow.
When Elizabeth learned about the reality of the Viscount’s “dire financial straits” though, she could not but laugh – in the privacy of her own room. He was reduced to only two thousand pounds per annum, a modest estate, and an apartment in London – “but a small one,” he explained – and he also had a horde of titled aunts and cousins who had promised to help him and introduce Georgiana into society, or whatever was left of it, despite his parents’ disapproval.
But still, the young man deemed himself very heroic – Georgiana shared his opinion – and maybe he was, after all – many gentlemen in the same circumstances would have severed their previous ties without a second thought.
“I wonder if all the philosophical debates we had in our Intellectual Club were preparing us for these kind of decisions,” the Viscount said to Elizabeth, one day.
“I seem to remember our conversations lost most of their serious content when you arrived, sir,” the lady answered teasingly.
But she could not be ironic for long. There was so much joy in the lovers’ eyes – in Darcy’s gaze, when he looked at his sister – no, she could not be anything else than content.
∞∞∞
That time would be later known, in history books, as the Great Depression.
The peace was signed. Darcy had been right, and the economical crisis which followed the disastrous treaties and the loss of most colonies was unprecedented – commercial routes broken, thousands of people without work, and no money to import food – there was misery, despair, hunger and violence.
But also, sometimes, in the midst of darkness… there was hope.
**
The Viscount left on a sunny morning to London, to prepare financially for the wedding and attempt a reconciliation with his parents.
It was a beautiful day, and Georgiana was beaming with joy. In the afternoon Darcy and Elizabeth walked together along the river, toward the Albury’s property.
“Do you know that one of the reasons the former colonies revolted, in America,” Darcy mused while they were entering the woods, “was because of the quartering of English soldiers on their properties? In fact the third amendment of their bill of rights quite prohibits it now.”
Elizabeth nodded. “My father and I often discussed that subject – the United States’ bill of rights, I mean. He found it fascinating, if a bit idealistic.”
“Well, I always found their reasons for wanting independence weak and unpatriotic,” Darcy added after some thought. “But it seems I should be revisiting my stance.”
“We will make a rebel of you yet, Sir,” Elizabeth said, amused. “There is still time to grab your pistol and emigrate to the seventeen states.”
Darcy shook his head. “Sometimes I wish I could just do that.”
They kept walking, deep in thought. They were alone – no footmen accompanying them – Darcy believed that his presence would be enough to guarantee Elizabeth’s safety.
That assumption was, perhaps, overly optimistic. After half an hour, they heard the voices of a group of soldiers in a clearing, near the pond – a dozen of them, maybe more, clearly very drunk, fighting, some of them ranting about an incident that happened near one of the pig stalls.
Someone was supposed to kill a pig and roast it – but there was no pig – it was all a convoluted pig story – in other circumstances Elizabeth and Darcy would have laughed, but clearly the soldiers were furious. They felt that the people of the estate were hiding food from them – after hiding the women – that the army was not given proper respect. They were very loud; Elizabeth stopped and whispered to Darcy, “They have not yet seen us yet. Best to pause here, sir.”
Darcy frowned. “I will not be cowed on my own land.”
She lightly touched his arm to stop him. “Certainly not, sir,” she commented with a smile. “But I know you to be a prudent man, who would not take undue risks.”
He looked amused. “Do you think I do not recognize your attempt to manage me, Miss Bennet? I know you very well, now.”
Elizabeth did not deny the charge. She lowered her arm – Darcy had stopped, after all, and she was preparing a light-hearted response involving Georgiana’s reaction if her very dignified brother was harmed because of a pig – when, behind the trees, the soldiers’ conversation took a more violent turn.
“We’ill show ‘em!” one of the men was saying, in an inebriated, but forceful tone. “We’ill hunt them and then they’ll see!” There was yelling and more fighting – this time, it was quite evident to both Darcy and Elizabeth that they should stay hidden – a dozen furious soldiers, armed, and drunk – it was now Darcy’s turn to grab Elizabeth arm, to prevent her from going forward – which she would certainly not have done.
They remained immobile, under the trees, for several minutes, his hand still holding her arm. They were completely unmoving – so close – listening to each other breathing – the swish of the wind, the rustling of the leaves in the ash trees, and the voices of the men who might murder them, – Elizabeth feared that at any moment they would be discovered, but then the soldiers calmed down somewhat – the notion of a pissing contest took hold of their fancy, and they switched direction, heading away from where Darcy and Elizabeth were hidden – soon they disappeared in the direction of the northern road, and their voices were lost.
Darcy and Elizabeth still did not move. His hand remained on her arm – maybe he was not conscious of it. Elizabeth had the bizarre, irrational thought that maybe they were not destined to live together, but they might very well have died that way – it seemed ridiculous, in the midst of such an encounter, for such a reason, but the absurdity did not make the peril less real.
Darcy turned to her – they kept silent for a while still, before he released her at last.
He walked to the nearest tree. His face was pale with anger, his fists were clenched, and for a few seconds Elizabeth half believed he was going to punch the trunk – as foolish and irrational as that gesture would be.
“I cannot believe I am not able to protect my…” He paused, looked away, and added, in a strange, rough voice, “to protect a woman in my employ on Pemberley’s grounds,” he finally added.
Elizabeth was unable to answer. There was a new silence, before Darcy added, “Who knew we would to end up here, Miss Bennet, after we met again in Lady Saltridge’s salons? I certainly did not expect to find myself in such a situation with you.”
“You have anticipated my thoughts, sir,” Elizabeth added, not daring to look at him.
He paused again – neither of them moved, as if they were rooted in place. “This occupation will at least have one advantage,” he said, his voice bitter. “The financial damage is irreparable. Pemberley must be sold.”
Elizabeth just nodded, and they slowly walked back home. Two weeks later the parliament began to demobilize soldiers, and the regiment moved out.
∞∞∞
The routine began again.
Every morning, Darcy, Elizabeth and Georgiana took breakfast together. Every night, they met for dinner and spent the slow, purple hours by the light of the fire, listening to Georgiana playing, talking about books, or poetry – anything that was not money, food, or the future.
A future that was bleak, but set. There was some relief to have the decision made. Elizabeth saw it in Darcy’s demeanor; he had now a course of duty and would follow it as best as he could. And despite the dreadfulne
ss of the situation, he could still do much good.
There was a buyer in sight, from North America – not a cousin, but a friend of a very distant one. The man had visited Pemberley in his youth and was now ready to make this kind of investment. He wanted to buy the property as a whole – it was an opportunity to seize, and Darcy did so quickly because his predictions had been right: estates were failing all over the country. Parliament even changed the law to allow for property to be transferred more easily.
The wealthy American “gentleman” – Elizabeth could hear the irony when Darcy or Mrs. Reynolds used the last term, and could not but be amused by their unconscious snobbery – was interested in new agricultural practices, and even more importantly, had enough money to properly maintain Pemberley. Darcy had negotiated to keep the ownership of most of what was inside the building. It was very unusual, and maybe the buyer may not have realized the extent of the financial amount of what he was renouncing – anyway he wanted to redecorate in a more modern way – Darcy did not take any real pain to convince him otherwise.
Do You Love Me Page 7