by Beth Poppet
Unlike her younger sister, Kitty had the sense to look shamed for a moment. “But Mary said that you would never marry! That you couldn’t possibly, because of Miss de Bourgh!” She sent an awestruck glance towards Mr Darcy. “Whatever shall you do about Lady Catherine?”
“Lady Catherine is none of your concern,” Elizbeth answered, though not unkindly. “Mr Darcy and I will contend with her in our own way, and you, Miss Kitty,” she cautioned, “Must not speak of this to anyone until we have done so ourselves.”
Miss Catherine Bennet nodded submissively. She would not breathe a word out loud to anyone; in this, she was confident she could do as instructed. However, there were two unfinished letters to her mother and Lydia that each had plenty of room on the remaining margins, and she would not waste this singular opportunity to be the informant of such delicious news.
Chapter Two
“Oh, Mr Bennet!”
Mrs Bennet was expressing herself in that particular volume of shrillness that grated on her husband so keenly. “You must say yes!” she insisted, never considering that a more subtle approach would have a better chance of bringing the desired outcome. “Of course, you will, for you are not a cruel father and you do want our girls to be taken care of! Oh, of course, you do!”
Despite the house being empty of all its female residents save the mistress and two of the servants, Mr Bennet was not given the quiet breakfasts he supposed he would have in his daughters’ absence. He had never realised just how useful his youngest daughters were in diverting Mrs Bennet’s attentions away from him. The incessant prattle regarding balls and frippery were nearly intolerable, and the skirmishes between Kitty and Lydia over bonnets and rights to them even worse, but at least there was less requirement on his part to reply. At least then, he need only interject when the din grew too loud to ignore, or when directly addressed with some plea or complaint. With his wife bereft of all other daily companionship, there was little else for her to direct her energy into besides harassing her husband with gossip he did not care for.
“Pardon me, madam,” he answered irritably as his sliced ham dangled precariously at the end of his fork, “Of what do you speak?”
“Why, your blessing on Mr Darcy and our Lizzy’s marriage! It is all here in Kitty’s letter; how she caught them in a very compromising way, and Mr Darcy confessed their engagement on the spot, and Kitty is sure they mean to ask your blessing as soon as they are all arrived at Longbourn!” Her raptures were unbridled. “Oh, say you will, my dear! You must!”
“My Lizzy, and that stern, self-important fellow?” he glowered in disbelief. “And what do you mean, they were caught in a compromising fashion? Has he entrapped her into an engagement? Why should I consent to such a scoundrel becoming my son-in-law?” The breakfast ham suffered the brunt of his indignation by being gnashed angrily between Mr Bennet’s teeth.
“Trapped her? Utter nonsense, Mr Bennet!” his wife scoffed, exasperated. “He has ten thousand a year! What could a man of such wealth gain in trapping our Lizzy into matrimony! No, I daresay it was all their time spent here in our sitting room that made him love her, and I had my own hand in it, you know, for Lizzy might not have secured him if I was not so quick to steer her towards his attentions. Oh, I knew that one of our girls must marry into money!” she waxed glibly on while decorating her toast with a generous helping of preserves. “Though I am surprised it is Lizzy to have accomplished it! I would have expected Jane with her incomparable beauty, or Lydia with her infectious charms. But then,” she mused aloud, inhibited but slightly by the bit of toast in her cheek, “I suppose it is not too late for Jane even now.”
“Now what riddles are you putting to me?” Mr Bennet queried, quite nearly at the end of his patience. “Can you not speak plainly for once?”
“Oh,” she replied as if it was a bother to change the subject, “your cousin, Mr Collins has died. That is all the first part of Kitty’s letter.”
“Mrs Bennet,” he exclaimed, face turning a fascinating shade of scarlet, “do you mean to tell me that my cousin and my daughter’s husband has entered his eternal rest, and you badger me with parlour scandals based on Kitty’s wild imaginings?”
“How can you say such things, Mr Bennet?” she protested, voice shrill with indignation. “Do you call your own daughter a liar?”
“I make no such accusations, but I will hold to nothing as certain until I have Mr Darcy and Elizabeth standing before me in my library and telling me with their own lips that they wish to have my blessing on their marriage. I will not even consider the matter until then,” he said with grim finality. “Not a moment before, Mrs Bennet.” He shook a finger at her authoritatively, taking advantage of the fact that her mouth was momentarily preoccupied with consuming the rest of her toast. “Kitty’s romantic fancies may have confused her while emotions were high from the tragedy of Mr Collins’s death.”
Mrs Bennet swallowed and sniffed. “Oh, you do take delight in vexing me,” she moaned, near to tears. “I have half a mind not to share with you the rest of the news regarding your grandson and heir to Longbourn.”
The stern grimace that was set firmly upon Mr Bennet’s face suddenly turned to tenderness and wonder. Not towards his wife and her infernal badgering, but in the anticipation of an infant son and male heir coming to Longbourn, belonging in some ways to him.
∞∞∞
The full coach arrived at Longbourn promptly at the appointed time with Mr Darcy taking up the rear on his preferred mare. The coach was met with all the eagerness of Mrs Bennet and her waving handkerchief as well as all the reserved scepticism of Mr Bennet’s knit brows. He was not unpleasant to his guest once he’d descended from his horse and greetings were exchanged; indeed, it was far easier to speak ill of Mr Darcy behind closed doors where his towering presence and noble visage were not before one in person, and situations devoid of him civilly escorting a fleet of young women inside their abode.
Mr Darcy wasted no time in requesting a private interview with the father of his beloved Elizabeth, an expediency which did endear him a little by giving Mr Bennet an excuse to be removed from the feminine fray of welcomes and inevitable nonsense. He knew there was no point in lingering for a chance to catch a glimpse of his grandson as that could be managed more simply after his wife’s exuberance for her daughters’ return had time to cool.
Kitty and Mrs Bennet shared knowing glances at Mr Darcy’s impatient request, which began an immediate battle between Kitty and her self-possession. She barely maintained victory by faking a rather disturbing cough which brought a stream of reprimands upon her from her mother’s mouth. Mary rolled her eyes at the blatant exchange between the two, passing quickly through the dramatics in order to assess her old room. She would ensure none of the precious volumes she was forced to leave behind had been moved in the cleaning preparations for their return.
“Well, well!” huffed Mrs Bennet as the two gentlemen hastened away into the study. “It seems a certain gentleman is only interested in getting what he came for and then I’m sure he’ll be off as fast as his feet can carry him thither, not wanting to spare a single moment longer than necessary in our lowly abode.”
Elizabeth despaired of needing to come to his defence so soon upon arrival. “If Mr Darcy does not prolong his visit,” she placated, “it is because he does not wish to be an imposition with Jane and the baby requiring so much of our attention.”
“An imposition, indeed! Well, what of it? He can come and go just as he pleases. But who is this dashing young thing?” she cooed over the bundle in Jane’s arms. “What a fine and handsome face he has! Oh, Jane, what excellent work you’ve done!” she declared as tears sprang to her eyes, giving her another use for her handkerchief besides the incessant fluttering. “But then, you have always accomplished everything so prettily, my dear, I would expect nothing less than perfection from your offspring. Come in, girls, come in!” she ushered them into the sitting room. “And Jane, do tell me all about your plans for
the christening! I have begun a list of all the attending families for your perusal, and as soon as you have made any additions, we can begin drawing up the invitations…” her head whipped about from workbasket to cushion, seemingly searching for the aforementioned list, which Elizabeth took as a signal to intervene.
“Mama, Jane is still very tired and needs rest,” she protested.
“Oh, Lizzy. Not even married yet to that lofty gentleman, and already trying to tell me what is best in my own house.” Elizabeth directed a sharp glance Kitty’s way, for it was not like their mother to be so perceptive on her own. Kitty guiltily avoided her look, chusing instead to pluck at the curtains over the large window as if she had never laid eyes on them before.
Mrs Bennet had not noticed any of this, as she did not stop for breath in her complaints. “What was the use of all those delays on the road prolonging your journey here if it did Jane no good? I’m sure she is quite able to tell me herself if she is too spent to converse with her own mother.”
Weary from both the journey and now the necessity of disappointing her mother, Jane interjected softly, “I should like to lie down upon the bed, Mama.”
“Of course, you shall, dear girl!” she exclaimed, as if it the most apparent thing in the world and she had not just been chiding Lizzy over suggesting the very same. “Let me take that little grandson of mine, and Hill will help you straight to your room! I’ll bring your boy up just as soon as he makes a fuss, though he looks as if he’s hardly inclined to do so. He must have inherited all your sweetness as well as your beauty!”
Jane thanked her for the reprieve as she transferred the babe into her mother’s arms, leaving her two sisters and mama to share all the exhausting details of the events she still wanted time to recover from. She passed Lizzy with a tired smile of gratitude for all she had done, and it was understood by Lizzy without need for returning words.
Lizzy did her utmost to appease their mother with details of Mr Collins’s final resting place, whether or not she had from Mr Darcy the number of mourners present at the funeral, and to answer her insistence that Little Collins looked the spitting image of Jane all with sincere interest, but her thoughts were elsewhere, and Lizzy’s fidgeting and half-hearted replies were so unlike her usual zest for lively conversation that Mrs Bennet soon gave up on her altogether and addressed her grandson instead as if he were the sole person in the room. Kitty aggravated the strings of some unfinished needlework she retrieved from her work basket, feeling very lonely indeed.
Their collective relief at Mr Darcy’s entrance into the room was nearly audible. He greeted Mrs Bennet with a deferential bow that she considered very handsomely done, but he sought Lizzy’s attention immediately. “Would you do me the honour of walking with me Miss Bennet? I have something most particular to ask you.”
Lizzy nearly laughed aloud as he had already asked her that particular question and been unequivocally accepted, but she would harbour no complaints against an evasion of her mother, and a private conversation regarding what had transpired between Mr Darcy and her father just now in the library.
Mrs Bennet was most eager that they go on together, not trusting Kitty’s account that they were already engaged ever since Mr Bennet planted the seeds of doubt in her mind.
Unwittingly doing the very thing Mrs Bennet hoped she would not do, Kitty asked, “Shall I go too, Mama?”
“No, Kitty,” she snapped peevishly. “You will stay right here with me. I am certain Mr Darcy will keep Lizzy near the house so as not to be improper, and besides, I need you here to help with the little one. He may appear a mere slip of a thing, but my arms are grown quite heavy already, and I daresay Jane would never forgive you for abandoning us if something were to happen and my weariness overcame me.”
This caused Kitty to sulk at first, but when the couple had passed just out of sight—though perhaps not entirely out of hearing—Mrs Bennet turned to her for every bit of information regarding exactly how she had discovered them in Mr Collins’s sitting room; how low their voices were, if anything they said could be distinguished, where Mr Darcy’s hands rested upon Lizzy’s form, and if they appeared to be physically connected in any other way. This turned Kitty’s despondency into utter joy, and she spent the happiest hour of her life keeping her mother enraptured with her exaggerated recounting of the incident.
In the foyer, Elizabeth reached for her pelisse and gloves, but Mr Darcy stayed her hand. “In truth,” he admitted in a low voice, “I am to send you in directly to your father. But I could not let you go without a word in private.”
A little surprised, but not unnerved she replied, “How did he appear? Did he seem happy?”
“He did not appear unhappy, although he was most serious and guarded while giving his answer. Elizabeth,” he whispered, bringing her hand momentarily to his lips, “I believe he requires some assurance of your love for me.”
“Oh?” she responded, a visible warmth appearing in her cheeks at his show of affection, “If that is all, this will prove a very short interview. I hope to join you again within minutes.”
His eyes followed the path back into the sitting room. “Shall I wait for you out of doors?” he recommended, almost pleading.
Elizabeth laughed merrily. “Yes, do. I’ll not subject you to bearing that company alone.”
“You are kindness itself, Miss Bennet,” he teased, and after one more brush of lips upon her knuckles he released her to Mr Bennet’s inquisition.
The garden was significantly smaller and less robust than his sprawling paradise at Pemberley, and not even as well kempt as the treasured lot at Hunsford Parish, but it was still a pretty prospect, and Mr Darcy made use of the stone benches Mr Bennet had seen fit to have installed there. It was cold, but not bitterly so, and he was not forced to endure it alone for too long.
His Elizabeth came to him with mirth in her fine eyes, and a smile gracing her lips that refused to conceal the happiness she felt in returning to his side. His hands seemed to open of their own accord, and hers were clasped within them before either could think the better of it.
“Are you mine?” he breathed into the wind, though her ear caught the words without difficulty.
She would have feigned offense at his doubt but for the urgency in his voice. “You did not fear my ability to convince my father of my affections, did you?”
“I ask more for the pleasure of hearing it confirmed by your own lips than any doubt of your persuasive influence.” The hair beneath his hat rustled in the breeze and were Elizabeth more brazen she might have reached up to touch a lock of it and let her fingers linger against his forehead.
As it was, she replied with the generosity of one utterly content with her current circumstance. “Then I will be obliging and assure you that I am yours, Mr Darcy. And you may have your November wedding if that is your will.”
“Dearest Elizabeth,” he said as a caress, and following with one of a more physical nature, he repeated the gesture that had been previously interrupted by Kitty’s appearance in the Collins’s sitting room. This time, there were no unexpected witnesses to their kiss, save that of a few flittering birds and one very impertinent squirrel. It was but a gentle meeting of the lips to seal their betrothal; there was nothing violently impassioned in the act, nor did they linger over long, but it was enough to make the world around them melt away and their eagerness for a day when they might do more increase tenfold.
“Well, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth remarked pertly, “perhaps a wedding in haste would be most desirous after all.”
His unremorseful smile was more than enough to speak his assent.
Despite Mrs Bennet’s doubts, Mr Darcy was very easily persuaded to stay for supper. Elizabeth left the familial party only once to tell Jane of Mr Bennet’s blessing on their union, and that only after Mr Bennet had emerged from his study to lend some manner of sensible conversation to the room Mr Darcy occupied.
Jane was aglow with joy over the news. “Oh, Lizzy! I am so ve
ry happy for you! He is a man of inestimable character, and truly a noble soul. You and he shall be very happy together, I know it.”
“I believe you most heartily,” Lizzy laughed. “In this moment, I might believe any compliments you wish to impart on every deserving and undeserving soul you chuse to admire. And you are to come live with us at Pemberley, of course, which will make my happiness complete.”
“Me? Come to Pemberley? Oh, no, Lizzy,” she objected sweetly. “I could not be such a burden. You will be newly wedded and deserving of a proper home to yourselves. You must not be anxious on my account. Little Henry and I will do quite well here.”
“You will do no such thing,” Lizzy chided, “Do you think I could be comfortable in a grand estate like Pemberley while you remain at the mercy of our mother and unmarried sisters? Though I’m sure in time we’ll be obliged to have Mary and Kitty stay with us as well. Mr Darcy has already been the one to suggest your coming to us, and his sister is counting on the pleasure of receiving you there. You are the very last person on earth who could be considered a burden, dear Jane. And you must come for Mr Darcy’s sake, for I told him myself I would not marry him if you remained at Longbourn.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” she answered, unable to say more for the tears that spilled over her cheeks.
Chapter Three
Mr Darcy’s bride was bedecked in every finery expected of her, and all by the generous supply of her betrothed. She was uncertain at first how to accept such material signs of her beloved’s affection and told him so one evening after a particularly overwhelming number of gowns was delivered to her room.
“There is hardly space in the closet for them all, and that after distributing my old things amongst my sisters and theirs to the servants! It is entirely too much,” she informed him.
“I have only supplied you with the minimum requirements for our wedding and journey to Pemberley. Georgiana was consulted for every purchase.”