A Fortunate Alliance

by Beth Poppet

  She smiled in a way that hinted of condescension—as if his question was a foolish one—and said, “I do not love Mr Polbright, and I do not think I ever could.” She raised her eyes to the man who was her guardian, leaving no doubt as to her romantic inclination. “Not when I am so very much in love with Arthur, instead.” And then with surprising humour she added, “I suppose we Darcys are a rather disappointing lot for poor Aunt Catherine.”

  “But… are you certain?” Darcy knew very well it was he who was uncertain and thus the query was made audible, but Georgiana was ready with her answer.

  “I wish that you and Arthur both would stop doubting me.” Her tone was sweet and gentle as it had ever been, despite the rebuking words. “I have lost count of how many times he asked the same of me before we came to you. You were willing to trust my judgement regarding a young man you have never met in your life. Why should there be so much uncertainty regarding a match between your dearest friend and the sister you have raised to womanhood?”

  He let his countenance relax somewhat, realising how his responses might be mistaken for displeasure or mistrust. “I am only surprised, Georgiana,” he confessed. “I am not… fond of surprises, as you well know. I have no doubt that Fitzwilliam will take excellent care of you, and I could not be more at ease regarding the match in terms of practicalities…” Here he paused, once more overtaken by the strangeness of the idea, “But in love,” he echoed.

  “Do not distress yourself, Darcy,” the colonel said, “I do not ask for your consent to marry her immediately. I wish to give both you and Georgiana a full two years to become used to the idea, and to allow her the freedom of changing her mind before a betrothal is announced.”

  “Two years?!” she protested, providing evidence that such particulars had not been previously discussed between them. “Such a dreadfully long time to wait! Do you really think me so changeable that I would require a lengthy engagement to make my decision sure?”

  “It is an unusually long proposal,” Darcy agreed, “I will be thankful for the opportunity to let the idea settle, but I hardly think it will take me two full years to do so.”

  “That may be, and it’s also likely that my own impatience will beg a more hurried date,” the colonel admitted, “but I should still like to wait a while for Georgie’s sake. She has only just come out, and I do not want her bound to me before she has had opportunity to be in society and know for certain she would prefer me to any other fellow.”

  “You do not think I know my own mind?” she contended, her voice gradually losing its timid quality.

  “I do not think you have been given enough chances to do so,” he answered frankly, “I should like for you to enjoy the season, to see a little more of the world and its inhabitants before settling on me. You or Darcy may come to realise that there are men of far superior character than I,” he said teasingly, though there was also sincerity in his words, “and I would not relish the disappointment of being told of this discovery too late.” He brightened at the next utterance, “We may also re-establish your acquaintance with Lord and Lady Matlock so that you are able to pass judgement on the family you might one day be a part of.”

  Georgiana’s brow tightened with consideration. Anticipating what at least some of her reticence was from, he continued, “I will accompany you wherever you will have me, in whatever method and setting is appropriate, but only as your guardian, and not a jealous lover. If your affections waver, or you begin to have second thoughts, you will be free to declare them, and I will withdraw my suit entirely.”

  Rather than suffer another chastisement from Georgiana, he hastily put the question to her brother, “Will this do, Darcy?”

  “There is some prudence in the scheme,” he said, still deep in his own pondering. “Georgiana, are you willing?”

  “I know I am young,” she began carefully, brow still knit in concentration, “and have seen little of society or the world. But the prospect of waiting two years to be settled with the man I love is not a pleasant one.” She let out a sigh of resignation and straightened her shoulders, “For my brother’s peace of mind, however, I am willing to wait.”

  The brother in question eased back into his chair, satisfied that this should be the end of the discussion and he might be allowed the liberty of attending to some rather unromantic business concerns for the next several hours to restore his stability of mind.

  At the lilt of Georgiana’s voice breaking into his thoughts, it became clear that was not to be. “But not for the reasons you have given, Arthur.” Despite his desire to be the sooner done with this discussion, the rare occasion of Georgiana disagreeing with either of her guardians had his interest piqued. “I do not wish to be forever mingling at balls and assemblies,” she said, “or meeting strangers for tea, and seeking introductions with young men so that you are satisfied I’ve met enough to compare to you. I will use the time between now and our marriage to improve myself, however. I will have Elizabeth and Miss Bingley teach me to manage a household and set a menu. I will learn to be less nervous while making introductions and speaking to strangers in the anticipation of accepting our own guests and seeing to their comfort when I am your wife. And,” she declared with rising confidence and clarity, “if I feel adequately prepared to make you a proper wife before two years have passed, I insist upon the right to petition a shorter engagement and sooner wedding date, provided you have not met some prettier, more capable woman in the meanwhile.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam looked to Darcy, hoping for some assistance. He did not take delight in being contradicted despite the outcome, and he warred within himself over whether or not to retract the stipulations that he had previously considered to be solely in Georgiana’s best interest. All he received from Darcy, however, was a look of inestimable pride for his sister’s rebuttal. Monstrous unfair.

  “Bah!” he growled, “Now you’ll make me look a philandering fool for not marrying you with expedience. As if you needed improving.”

  “No, Arthur,” she smiled, knowing she had won a small triumph, “you know I am by no means perfect, as I know you are not, either. But we will both improve ourselves, and when you and I are fully prepared to take on the roles of husband and wife, and Fitzwilliam is comfortable with the idea, then we will readdress the matter.

  “Do you not agree that this is a far better solution?” she asked her brother with nary a trace of trepidation. She was glad to have found her courage, and it seemed to rise with each passing moment from the likelihood of her brother’s approval, and the knowledge of the colonel’s fondness for her, even as he grumbled petulantly.

  “Indeed,” he returned, at last in possession of his reasonable senses. “I am in full support of this plan. It is a sound one, and there can be no sensible objections to it.”

  The colonel groused under his breath at the injustice of being outnumbered and thwarted, though Darcy was correct in that he could find no real objections. He had no desire to thrust Georgiana into a role she was ill prepared for, and it seemed good to him that she be able to experience a season of freedom without being tied down to a guardian and betrothed. She was still young, and though he did not doubt the sincerity of her affections, it would do her good to experience more of society and even his family before making her decision final.

  When Elizabeth was told of their newly formed understanding, she rejoiced in such tidings, but not without giving the colonel a word of caution regarding his prolonged courtship of her dear sister-in-law.

  “I can think of only two other people in this wide world whom I would be so happy to see matched!” she cried, grasping his hands in congratulations. “But, Colonel,” she advised, “Do take care that you are not too permissive of any other young men who may take an interest in Georgiana, and likely will take an interest, for she is easy to admire.”

  He released her hands in exaggerated umbrage. “Do you imagine I would allow anyone to take liberties with her—including myself?”

  “No,
not in that way,” she assured him smilingly, “but I cannot imagine Georgiana will be at ease trying to fend off other suitors while caring only for you. She is too gentle-spirited and kind of heart to enjoy spurning would-be lovers; it would only cause the poor girl more grief and frustration rather than less. I suspect you were not ignorant of the turmoil she endured over the rejection of Mr Polbright,” she pronounced with meaning.

  “No, I was not. Although I had assumed her lethargy was due to pining.”

  “Perhaps it was. Though I daresay she was pining for you while considering how to graciously refuse a deeper friendship with a kindly young man who offered.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam turned sober. “Then you are of the opinion we should establish a public engagement?”

  “Not in any haste, no. I can well support Georgiana’s reasons for a prolonged courtship as well as some of yours. I only ask that you do not behave in a way that may cause her distress and confusion, such as suddenly growing aloof or brooding about like you did while she was withdrawn. Continue to be her confidant and use this waiting period to woo her as she deserves to be wooed; with openness of heart, and the candour we all so admire in you.”

  He brightened at the reasonableness of her caution. “I have every intention of doing just that. I know her fears and insecurities, and I want nothing more than to help her overcome them with more invested interest than an elder brother’s affection would warrant.”

  “Ah, yes. In regards to elder brothers, what does my husband have to say concerning all this?” The merriment in her upturned lips and quirked brow indicated that she had some idea already of her husband’s reaction.

  “Very little, actually. It was partially for his sake I wish to delay any official understanding, as he seems to suffer from shock for the time being.”

  Elizabeth’s laugh was full of fondness for Mr Darcy’s failure to see what was so apparent to her upon first acquaintance with the colonel. “I shall endeavour to do my part in making him as eager for your marriage as I am,” she promised, “but not before congratulating my dear sister for having secured the assurances of a good man’s affection.”

  She found Georgiana in the grove, taking a turn playing with Henry while Jane let out one of his frocks from it having grown too small for him. Judging from the way Jane’s work was suspended, and the pinked glow in Georgiana’s cheeks, they had just been speaking of a certain desirable event of the future. Her blush deepened as she regarded Elizabeth’s approach, and she stood up to meet her and begin at once to make profuse apologies.

  “Oh, Elizabeth! Do please forgive me!” she cried, “I did mean to come and tell you first, but I thought Fitzwilliam might like to speak with you alone as I have never seen my brother so discomfited before. This she said with a little knot of worry in her brow, as if it a very dreadful thing for her to have caused. “But as I considered where I should go or what I should do while waiting to speak with you myself, Jane asked if I should like to come and play with Henry while she worked, and before I knew quite what I was about, I had told her all.”

  “There is no need to beg forgiveness!” Elizabeth laughed, “Such happy news must be shared, and welcome.”

  “It is, such welcome news,” Jane agreed, “I am so very happy for you, and dear Colonel Fitzwilliam, too. Such a gentlemanly, kind person. He is always stooping down to chuck little Henry under the chin and speaks to him as if he’s quite grown and understands every word. And I know he must care for you a great deal, Georgiana. But how could he not?”

  Consoled that she had not committed a terrible grievance against Elizabeth, Georgiana followed her lead in lowering herself back down on the quilt where Henry played. She shook her head at Jane’s compliment but did not outright deny it as she might have done before. Instead, she chose a more indirect contradiction.

  “We each intend to improve ourselves a great deal in the next two years, so I hope I know some of my failings enough to employ myself in overcoming them.” She glanced surreptitiously from sister to sister, saying, “I shall rely on both of you a great deal to help me. I had thought at first to ask Miss Bingley for her guidance, but upon more careful reflection I have decided I would learn best from you, Jane. Miss Bingley is very accomplished and highly educated, but I am concerned she may look down upon some of the more… menial things I wish to learn. I do not know that I shall ever need to sew my own hems or prepare my own tea, but I would rather know the proper way than not.

  “And, Lizzy,” her eyes turned beseeching, and there was something of the old shyness about her, “I would like to accompany you the next time you visit our tenants. That is, if my presence would not be too troublesome.”

  “Not in the least!” Elizabeth assured her, “I should love to have you come.”

  “I thank you,” she smiled prettily. “I think… I… hope it will help me grow used to making introductions with strangers. If I intend to be a woman of easier manners and practiced conversation, I may as well begin at home.”

  “You will find the conversations between yourself and the tenants to be far more colourful and less restrictive than you are likely to find anywhere in London or Bath,” Elizabeth warned her laughingly. “But you are right in that it may help ease you into the more judgemental ranks and find your footing in sitting room subjects. You do not require any coaching in how to remain genteel and appropriate, though. Only how to be comfortable with your own opinions enough to voice them.”

  Jane smiled knowingly. “Yes, and there is no one better to assist you in that than our Lizzy.”

  “I know that you are teasing her,” Georgiana returned happily in the spirit of things, “but it is something I have always admired in her, and I know my brother does, as well.”

  “Indeed,” Elizabeth smirked wickedly, “Although he does not appreciate it so well when I voice my opinions of the continuation of marital intimacy in my condition.”

  “Lizzy!” Jane scolded, but even as she did, a merry laugh escaped her, and Georgiana busied herself with Henry, the better to hide her own amused grin and deepening blush.

  Chapter Eleven

  Another October came upon Pemberley, though one quite different from the year prior in terms of occupancy.

  The London Season was over, through which Darcy and Elizabeth had their fill of operas, concertos, and all that could be desired from such entertainments, though Elizabeth considered all of the cultural diversions to be lacking in the face of observing the colonel and Georgiana during their tour. It was Elizabeth’s first season as Mrs Darcy, but her condition often made excursions tiresome, and she was glad when it was all done, and she and her husband could return to their beloved Pemberley once more.

  Now that they were home, however, she was restless.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam had taken Georgiana to Matlock, to fulfil his promise in renewing her acquaintance with his parents, the lord and lady of that estate. Though Georgiana wrote faithfully to Elizabeth, neither her insistence to improve herself, nor the colonel’s decision to woo her steadily had wavered, and Elizabeth longed for some news of domestic felicity as she waited for the arrival of her child.

  Mr Darcy had gone to Netherfield and would bring back Mr Bingley and Kitty, the latter of whom had entered an understanding with the vicar at Longbourn. It was a surprising development to be certain, and of the parson himself, Elizabeth had unending curiosity as he had been established there only recently due to the old vicar’s passing, but as Mrs Bennet’s last letter had been full of Lydia’s news—she seemed not to realise that Mrs Wickham wrote to Lizzy herself, for how else was she to line her purse?—and there was hardly a word of Mr George Evander within it. Not a word regarding his personality, his tastes, or his pursuits, except that he had asked for Kitty’s hand, and been accepted.

  Elizabeth looked forward to her arrival, not only for news of her betrothed, but for Kitty’s own sake as well. She had hoped that with Lydia and Wickham hardly ever in the country their mother might heed Kitty more and take better
pains to know and understand her, but it was not to be so.

  Mr Bennet had established himself in a set of rooms at Pemberley already, being fond of popping in unannounced and unexpected, and always welcome to a quiet corner, a stack of friendly volumes, and a glass of claret.

  The youngest member of their household had reached his twelve-month and was more and more a handful to Nanny and Jane as he toddled, and crawled, and made many experimentations of taste by finding the strangest things to put in his mouth, no matter the care taken to beat out the carpets and stow little choking hazards out of his reach.

  It was not Percival Henry Collins’s milestones that occupied Elizabeth’s thoughts however, but his mother’s freedom to now remarry without censure or suspicion. She was eager to have Mr Bingley as a guest in their house once more and was more than pleased at the frequency and duration of his visits whenever the family was all at home.

  He had even done the marvellous thing of making Mr Bennet glad of conversation and company when they fished together—at Mr Darcy’s expense, of course. It was an occupation Mr Bennet would have usually preferred to do in perfect silence and solitude, but he found Mr Bingley such an irreproachably agreeable fellow, he was not only accepting of his presence, but comfortable with it. He was not unhappy with how his Lizzy had settled, but he still remembered a time when he would have liked Mr Bingley as a son-in-law.

  Of course, all this delightful company would sadly come to end, once Mr Bingley was made aware of Kitty’s engagement. For that was the reason Mr Bingley made himself so agreeable, as far as Mr Bennet understood. He wished Mr Bingley might have been more direct about it and snatched Kitty up before the vicar had pressed his suit. There was nothing undesirable about Mr Evander as a son-in-law—he was perhaps a little too cheerful and quick to dance for a man of God—but that left Mary as the sole remaining daughter without a husband, and he had hoped that the vicar might have done for her. He did not suppose Mr Bingley would turn his sights to Mary now that Kitty was attached, though it was not the worst of outcomes to have the quietest, most sanctimonious daughter still at home.