by C. P. Odom
“Mr. Darcy!” she exclaimed. “If you do not stop this immediately, we shall have to reveal to the world that you actually do have a sense of humour!” Georgiana laughed aloud, and Darcy gave a slow smile while Elizabeth considered him with her chin cupped in her hand and one finger tapping on her cheek. “It is a warped and droll sense of humour, to be sure, but I am sure you will not be allowed in any of your clubs once it is made generally known,” she said with a solemnity equal to his own.
Darcy threw up his hands. “I surrender, madam! I should have known not to joust with you, and I yield the field to attend to family duties.” He turned to Fitzwilliam, “Richard, we must be off before I decide that my chances with your parents would be improved if I left you behind.”
Fitzwilliam laughed in good humour before both men bade the ladies farewell.
* * * * *
As Darcy and his cousin entered the small sitting room where Lord and Lady Matlock sat at tea, he could only hope that this interview would go more favourably than his meeting with Mr. Bennet. During the drive, he had acquainted Fitzwilliam of that uncomfortable session, and his cousin had clucked in disapproval at Mr. Bennet’s thoughtlessness.
But now Darcy had to deal with this interview, and as he greeted his uncle and aunt, he was unable to predict their reaction. Lord Matlock took seriously his position as head of the family, and he had often urged Darcy to have a care when choosing a wife, paying attention to both fortune and the connections of her family. He had at times remarked that Anne De Bourgh would fit those categories handsomely, but he had not urged her selection with any great fervency. His wife was more of a possible ally than her husband even though she herself came from a wealthy and landed family. Her good sense and optimistic nature had proved invaluable in raising the four Fitzwilliam brothers, three still living, and the single Fitzwilliam sister, all of them inheriting in full their father’s decisive and dominant nature.
No wonder Richard has made a good soldier, thought Darcy, and no wonder his brother Henry had made a considerable name for himself as a captain of one of His Majesty’s frigates. Their competitive family life well prepared them for open warfare with the French.
When both Darcy and Fitzwilliam had been served tea, Darcy addressed his uncle. “Sir, I have the honour to inform you that I am engaged to be married.”
Lord Matlock paused with his cup part way to his mouth. “Indeed? I have heard nothing. This is rather surprising.”
“What else could be expected?” murmured Fitzwilliam, and Darcy did not even let his irritation show. He had expected nothing else, and it was at least a relief that no part of the gossip in the paper had spread to Matlock.
“Who is the young lady?” asked his more practical aunt.
“She is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the daughter of a landowner in Hertfordshire. I met her when I was visiting my friend Bingley last autumn.”
“Oh, yes, I remember Mr. Bingley,” said Lady Matlock. “A very cheery young man. I just read that he was also newly engaged; to who was it . . .” Her eyes widened as she made the connection.
“Yes, to Miss Jane Bennet, Elizabeth’s sister.”
“How extraordinary,” said Lady Matlock, pouring herself another cup of tea.
Her husband frowned. “I do not know of this young lady, Darcy. But I remember that a friend remarked of the announcement of Bingley’s engagement that his intended had no fortune and her family was completely unknown.”
Darcy nodded. “That is true. Her father is a gentleman who owns a small estate, and Miss Elizabeth is essentially undowered.”
“A fortune hunter, then,” Lord Matlock stated firmly.
He was startled by the hoot of laughter from his son. “Hardly, Father.” Fitzwilliam laughed. “I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth!”
The frown never left Lord Matlock’s face as he turned his attention to his bewildering son. “I know of no way in which you could be sure, Richard,” he said sternly. “I remember one of my friends at Cambridge was engaged to the most charming young lady, came from a good family, everything looked perfect. Only shortly before the marriage did it come out that her father had essentially gambled away the family fortune and that the daughter was desperately trying to secure my friend’s wealth through marriage. But he would not believe it and married the lady, only to find out the truth when it was too late. An utter disaster — she sucked him dry.”
“Father,” his son said, leaning forward and fixing his lordship’s gaze. “I cannot speak of the details, for it is a private matter, and you will have to take my word on this, but I know that such is not the case for Miss Elizabeth. I told Georgiana as much yesterday.”
Lord Matlock looked at his son in consideration, but was disturbed by a soft laugh from his wife. “Give it up, James. If you had to pick a man to judge a woman’s heart, you could do much worse than your son. And, in any case, it does not matter. Look at Darcy! Can you not see it in his eyes? After all these years, he has at last made a choice to marry. He is eight and twenty, after all. If he does not marry the woman of his choosing, he may well not marry at all.”
“Of course, he will marry,” said Lord Matlock. “He must, to secure an heir for the Darcy fortune.”
“Georgiana could provide an heir as easily as I,” said Darcy. “And I might submit that I need neither fortune nor name from the woman I marry, for I have a sufficiency of both. I will further offer that I would rather not marry than to marry without love, and Miss Elizabeth is the only young woman I have ever loved or likely will.”
“Believe him, father,” offered Fitzwilliam. “I know the lady, and she is indeed a good match for him in the qualities that truly matter.”
Lord Matlock looked at his son closely and he appeared to be completely serious, with none of his customary irony in his demeanour. At last, his lordship said, “Perhaps you are right, son. But even if you are, there still remains the matter of Anne. The assumption in the family has long been that only Anne’s health prevented her marriage to Darcy. How will she take this?”
“She already knows, or at least has guessed,” said Fitzwilliam.
Darcy nodded. “I assure you that Anne will not be hurt by this. She and I have spoken many times of Lady Catherine’s fixed and oft-repeated determination that we marry, but that determination is my aunt’s alone. Neither Anne nor I have ever desired a closer attachment than cousin, but we did not openly dispute it in order to avoid overt disagreement.”
“A wise thought,” murmured Fitzwilliam, “I could escape to Spain and have only Bonaparte’s legions to deal with. Scotland would not be far enough for you to escape our aunt’s wrath.”
Lady Matlock had to stifle a smile, her amusement stirred by both her son’s irreverence and her husband’s predictable glare directed toward that same son.
“I have dispatched letters to my other relatives, including Lady Catherine,” Darcy continued, “and the engagement will be announced in the Times. I have no doubt that my aunt will be upset, and I considered travelling to Rosings to inform her in person. I decided against it due to my belief that she would not refrain from openly abusing Elizabeth. This I absolutely will not tolerate, which would result in an open rupture of our relationship.”
Lord Matlock made no response to this, because, while he loved his sister, he could not deceive himself about her temperament. She was so used to getting her own way that she would indeed do just as Darcy predicted. An open insult of that sort could not be ignored, and Darcy was likely correct in his estimation of the result.
For his part, Darcy had decided against mentioning either the gossip at Rosings that had prompted this chain of events or the published item in the Chronicle. He anticipated the announcement in the Times would be sufficient to kill any further interest in that disreputable organ.
“Uncle, I will be hosting a small dinner party tomorrow night for the Miss Bennets, their family, and Bingley. I would be honoured if you and my aunt would attend.”
Lord Matlock was reluctant to accede to this request. He knew nothing of the lady beyond his son’s assurances, and he was desirous of a private talk with Richard before accepting an invitation that would be tantamount to official approval of the match. While he was trying to phrase his rejection, however, his wife disturbed his thoughts.
“James,” she said softly, putting her hand on his arm and leaning closer. “Remember, it is Darcy’s choice here — not ours.”
“But Sophie, if we attend, it will be the same as saying that we approve of the match, and I am not sure I am ready to do so at this time.”
His wife just looked at him, not saying anything, but thirty years of marriage enabled him to read her thoughts as clearly as if she had spoken them aloud. At length, he sighed in defeat. “Very well, Darcy, we would be pleased to attend.”
“Thank you,” said Darcy in relief. “Would seven o’clock be convenient?”
“Quite convenient. We will see you then. Richard, if you would be so good as to stay behind, I will provide transportation to return you to Darcy’s house later.”
“Certainly, Father,” Fitzwilliam responded easily, turning his head to give Darcy a wink where his father could not see. “I will see you later in the evening, Cousin.”
Darcy bid the three of them farewell, somewhat troubled knowing his uncle’s purpose, but that matter would have to be left to Richard’s discretion.
* * * * *
Mrs. Gardiner called on Darcy’s townhouse shortly after the gentlemen left in order to assist Elizabeth in ordering a new gown for her wedding. She was doubtful that the task could be accomplished in the available time, but she suggested that they might go first to one of her own favourite shops. Georgiana was reluctant to contradict Mrs. Gardiner, but the older woman recognized that she had something to offer and was quick to solicit her opinion.
“I think I know a shop that might complete Elizabeth’s gown in time,” she said timidly. “I have had several dresses made there, and I know that others have commissioned dresses in very short periods of time.”
When she named the shop, Mrs. Gardiner was familiar with it. “I have heard of them, but they are frightfully expensive for even the most ordinary items.”
“My brother was adamant that Elizabeth should spend as much as she needed,” offered Georgiana triumphantly. “And he said I should ignore her protests against it!”
Mrs. Gardiner laughed as Elizabeth turned red and looked away. “That does sound like Elizabeth. We must be careful to follow your brother’s advice, Miss Darcy.”
The owner of the shop recognized Georgiana immediately, and upon being informed that Elizabeth was to marry Mr. Darcy on Saturday and that a new gown was desired in time for the wedding, was most insistent that the task could be accomplished in time.
“If a suitable dress and fabric can be selected today,” he told them, “I can have the gown ready for a first fitting on Wednesday evening and a final fitting on Thursday. We will have it delivered to your hands by no later than Friday afternoon.”
Elizabeth started to ask how expensive this would be, but her aunt stopped her by laying her hand on her arm. Georgiana was obviously in her element when shopping for clothes, and she quickly arranged with the owner for a room to be set aside for the ladies and a variety of different styles and materials made available for their perusal. Georgiana also gave instructions that all bills were to be sent to her brother, and that all necessary accoutrements — stays, chemise, stockings, garters, and slippers — were to be included. The owner was solicitous and quickly escorted the ladies to a room with several couches and low tables where they made themselves comfortable while the various selections were prepared.
Soon, a procession of different dress styles and materials were presented for their inspection. Tea was served as the seemingly unending stream of choices left Elizabeth quickly bewildered by the variety. But Georgiana and Mrs. Gardiner made an alliance, recommending certain dresses and materials be left for examination while others were rejected as unsuitable. Elizabeth was inclined towards simplicity of style, and that was taken into account, but Georgiana proved an excellent judge of what was currently fashionable while Mrs. Gardiner proved an equally excellent judge of what styles would be most flattering on Elizabeth. Georgiana was unwavering that the cost of materials or sewing was of no significance for her new sister, and she would not even allow the subject to be brought up.
Soon a common ground between Georgiana’s fashion-oriented suggestions and Elizabeth’s desire for simplicity was found, and by four o’clock, an elegant gown to be made up in pale green silk had finally been selected. By five o’clock, all arrangements were complete, appointments made for fittings, and the carriage had been summoned. Before it was a quarter past the hour, the ladies were clattering back toward Darcy House, leaving Elizabeth feeling totally overwhelmed by the whole experience.
“I feel more exhausted than if I walked all the way back to Longbourn,” she complained. “I only sat on a couch and sipped tea and watched other people bring in items for my inspection, and I am completely done in!”
Georgiana laughed. “It was rather a whirlwind, but at least our task is accomplished. Or, at least,” she said slyly, “our main task, your wedding gown, is accomplished. Now we shall have to shop for the other things you will need to fill up your closet.”
“Georgiana,” Elizabeth pleaded, “have mercy! I am overwhelmed, and I demand that we do no more shopping for at least one day. Else I shall have to talk to your brother about Gretna Green!”
“But Elizabeth, you will need to shop for Pemberley also,” Georgiana teased. “It gets very cold in Derbyshire, and you will need fur-lined gloves, boots, cloaks, and bonnets, as well as any number of evening gowns for the opera, the theatre, balls, and dinners.”
“Gretna Green, Georgiana!” Elizabeth threatened, to general laughter in the carriage.
Chapter 19
Tuesday, April 21, 1812
Darcy arrived at Gracechurch Street on Tuesday at one o’clock to keep the appointment he had arranged with Mr. Gardiner to review the wedding agreements drafted by his solicitor. As he was shown in to Mr. Gardiner’s study, Elizabeth was sitting with her uncle waiting for him, and as usual, he felt his heart turn over in his chest when she smiled at him in greeting. He was still so new to actually seeing a true light of welcome on her face that each new occasion gave him a thrill of excitement and a chill of disaster narrowly averted.
Mr. Gardiner sent for coffee for himself and Darcy as well as tea for Elizabeth before he turned to the rough draft of the wedding agreements that Darcy handed him. He went through the documents quickly while Darcy and Elizabeth waited quietly. He was impressed with the clarity of the documents, with Darcy’s generosity, and with the completeness of his preparations, especially for a rough draft. Elizabeth’s personal income — what his sister inelegantly referred to as ‘pin money’ — was quite generous, and provisions were made for the dowry of any daughters and the income of any sons prior to their majority. There were provisions for any children in the event of a death of either husband or wife and for the inheritance of the estate — to the eldest son, if there were sons, or to the management of the eldest daughter otherwise, to then be inherited by her eldest son. He continued through the documents, ticking off the items: income for Elizabeth after the estate was inherited, remarriage of either spouse after the death of the other, management of the estate if Darcy died before the heir was five and thirty. At length, Mr. Gardiner put the documents down and inspected the young man across from him with enhanced respect.
“This is very impressive, Mr. Darcy,” he said earnestly. “Not only are the terms most generous to my niece, but, more importantly, they are quite complete. I must compliment you, sir. I have seen many families torn apart because the proper arrangements were not made in language clear enough to prevent misinterpretation.” Darcy thanked him, and the three of them huddled around his desk as Mr. Gardiner set out to review the document with
Elizabeth.
The first item he discussed was her dowry—her share of her mother’s fortune of five thousand pounds when her father died. Darcy’s documents made no mention of this dowry since Mr. Bennet had not mentioned it in his letters. Mr. Gardiner indicated that whether or not Elizabeth ever received it was completely at her father’s discretion in his will. However, she was amazed at the income provided by Darcy.
“So much, William?” she asked in bewilderment. “Why should I ever need so much?”
He smiled. “It is not inappropriate to our station in life, Elizabeth. There will be expenses you have not considered, and it would not do for you to have to ask me for funds every time a new dress is needed. The solicitor set down the values” — he pointed out the section in the document— “and I can assure you that the sum for clothing alone is only slightly larger than what is available for Georgiana. I think your uncle understands the calculations.”
Mr. Gardiner agreed. “It is generous, Lizzy, but it does not appear inappropriate for Mr. Darcy’s fortune, which is, I would estimate,” he said dryly, “to be rather more substantial than what is widely advertised.”
“Please, sir,” Darcy said with a wince. “What was bandied about was enough to have every mother in London busy pushing her daughters in my direction since I was of marriageable age!”
“I am sure.” Mr. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth looked at Darcy with wonderment. She was suddenly conscious of just how widely their spheres actually differed, and she was struck anew by the incongruity of his choosing her from all the many daughters who were dangled before him, every one of those daughters more than willing to accede to his every suggestion and to flatter him at every opportunity. How he could have rejected all those agreeable and acquiescent girls and chosen an impertinent creature like herself was a complete mystery.
As her uncle continued the review, she was further surprised by the complexity and the completeness of all the provisions. By the time he finished, she felt overwhelmed by all the detail. “I confess I had never considered all the possibilities that had to be provided for,” she said. “It seems complete to me, but I must rely on your advice, Uncle. Are you satisfied?”