by Adams, Alexa
After parting from Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet rushed into the library in order to share her good news, “Mr. Bennet! Oh Mr. Bennet it is too perfect!”
“What is it my dear?”
“Mr. Collins of course! He is interested in our Mary! She will make the perfect clergyman’s wife and break that odious entail. Have I not arranged everything admirably?”
“It is your affair to arrange as you will, Mrs. Bennet,” he replied, barely containing the smile that threatened to destroy his nonchalant mask. “If you desire to live out your years in residence with Mr. Collins the match will of course receive my blessing, but I for one will be glad to be dead, buried, and rid of the man.”
“Oh, how you do vex me Mr. Bennet!” she exclaimed before bustling back out the door. Mr. Bennet listened to the sound of her shrill voice as it carried down the hall before standing and moving to the window. There he spent many happy moments envisioning his grandchildren, the future heirs of Longbourn, playing merrily on its ancient lawn.
Thus an unusual courtship began, quite devoid of the usual flirtations. Mr. Collins listened to Mary play, not in order to admire her image but for the felicitation of praising both her execution and dedicated practice, “Lady Catherine is quite convinced that proficiency can only be achieved with much daily diligence.” Mary listened to Mr. Collins expound on his many duties at Hunsford with sincere interest, “Your very proper and prudent devotion to your benefactress is highly admirable.” Jane saw the transformation that happiness brought to her normally solemn sister’s demeanor and rejoiced. Elizabeth also approved of the couple, though she could not but laugh at their passionless discourse. Kitty, while happy for her sister, was peevish enough to wonder why Mr. Collins would look to Mary instead of herself, even though she had not the slightest desire for his attentions, and Lydia was totally perplexed that anyone, even a clergyman, could attend to Mary’s quotations and moralizations. Mr. Collins’ notice was no loss to her.
Chapter 10
Mr. Bingley spent an entire, seemingly endless day anxiously awaiting the moment when he would be reunited with his betrothed. Of little else could he speak, making life at Netherfield rather awkward with Miss Bingley still refusing to utter a word on the matter and Mr. Darcy even more quiet and brooding than usual. The burden of her brother’s spirits therefore fell on Louisa Hurst, who found herself anticipating the moment when Charles could finally set off almost as much as he did. On Tuesday, following breakfast, she became so impatient that she encouraged him to leave as soon as possible, despite the dictates of etiquette. So when it became clear that Mr. Darcy intended to accompany his friend on the visit, in spite of the breach of propriety such an early call entailed, Mrs. Hurst took notice. Unlike so many others, she had not taken Darcy’s interest in Elizabeth Bennet to be serious – obviously he liked the girl but the notion of him marrying so far beneath him was ridiculous. Or was it? “If Mr. Darcy should actually marry Elizabeth Bennet,” she wondered with a glance at her sulky sister, “it would certainly raise the status of Charles’ match.” This notion did much to improve her feelings towards her future sister and she decided to go out of her way to extend friendship to the two eldest Bennet ladies – after all, she did have to compensate for Caroline’s behavior. Silently she prayed that her sister had given up, once and for all, the notion of being a Darcy but, unfortunately, she had no way of knowing for Caroline had ceased to confide in her.
Bingley also wondered at Darcy’s attendance on the Bennets, happy though he was for the company. As they rode towards Meryton he speculated on his friend’s intentions. Never before had he seen him establish anything resembling a casual relationship with a new acquaintance. It was years before the two of them developed their current easy friendship and he had known the Bennet family for barely a month. His immediate acceptance of Jane had also been telling. Bingley had expected some disapproval, at least on the grounds of the family’s social standing. It would be well worth noting how Darcy continued to respond to Elizabeth Bennet.
Upon entering Meryton they spotted the three youngest ladies of the house to which they were bound chatting amiably in the street with an equal number of unknown gentlemen. Bingley eagerly approached, Darcy in tow, and greeted cheerfully, “Miss Bennet, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia! Good morning. We were just on our way to Longbourn. Is the rest of the family at home?”
Darcy wearily surveyed the group, feeling irritated that the ladies seemed to be unchaperoned, when his eyes caught those of one of the men. Wickham! What on earth was he doing here in such company? Could he have sought him out? No, Wickham’s look of surprise was sincere, however quickly he managed to compose himself and touch his hat. Darcy barely returned the gesture before he took off in the direction of Longbourn. Mr. Bingley made hasty apologies and followed his friend. “How odd is Mr. Darcy!” he heard Lydia exclaim as he hastened to catch up to the man, “I swear I never have heard him utter a single word beyond greeting! If he were not so handsome and rich he would perhaps seem disagreeable.”
“Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Collins inquired.
--
When Bingley caught up to his friend and saw the perturbation in his face, he chose not to ask the many questions he had regarding such irregular behavior. Fortunately for curiosity’s sake, Darcy chose to break the silence on his own, “That man back there Bingley, George Wickham, that man who is amiably endearing himself to your future sisters is well known to me. He is a thorough cad and not to be trusted!”
“Good heavens Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed, taken aback by the ferocity of this pronouncement. “What on earth could he have done? Shall we return and escort them home safely?”
“I intend to speak to Mr. Bennet and inform him of the man’s character, so as to prevent further intercourse between him and the family. He is no harm to them upon first acquaintances, as he is not a quick operator; it takes time to insinuate himself into ladies’ affections.”
Bingley hesitated but asked anyway, “Darcy, who is that man to you?”
“He is the son of my father’s old steward. We grew up together at Pemberley.”
“And what has he done to so provoke you?”
“There is a lady’s honor at stake Bingley. Be patient and when we arrive at Longbourn I will elaborate.” They finished the journey in silence, each deeply occupied in his own thoughts. Darcy wasn’t sure how much he was willing to tell of Wickham’s attempted elopement with Georgiana, but he knew that it certainly did not include her name. He could only hope Wickham would be equally discrete.
Why was he, of all people, in Meryton? There was no accounting for it. Surely the small town had little to offer a man of his tastes, other than easy temptations in the form of flirtatious and innocent young ladies. He grimaced at the thought. Certainly he was duty bound to warn the vulnerable, regardless of the consequences. Too rapidly could he conjure the image of a young Bennet falling for Wickham’s charms and finding herself compromised. It would probably be the tall, forward one – Lydia was her name. She would certainly be an easy victim for Wickham, too easy for him to pass on. He wouldn’t think twice of the degradation to her or her family, and never would he agree to marry such a dowerless girl. Should he hear talk of an attachment between Darcy and Miss Elizabeth ... no, he could not permit it to happen. Not to Bingley and certainly not to Elizabeth. By the time he entered Longbourn Darcy was grimly determined and requested, almost immediately upon entrance, a private audience with Mr. Bennet.
“Oh Lizzy! Do you think he is asking for your hand?” Mrs. Bennet squealed as the library door closed behind the gentlemen.
“I think not, Mama, as he has never approached me on the subject.”
Elizabeth had noted the disturbed countenances of the visitors, particularly apparent in the unaccustomed intensity of the look Darcy gave her upon greeting, as did Jane, who barely had the opportunity to greet her eagerly anticipated fiancé before he was whisked away. Mrs. Bennet continued to happily speculate aloud while the sisters returned to
their needlework, anxiously wondering just what could be the matter.
--
Mr. Bennet could only be amused by the severe seriousness of his guests, particularly as his future son-in-law did not wear a frown well. Nothing he could imagine could possibly be as dire as the spectacle the two men presented and eagerly awaited an explanation. Darcy noted the humor in the man’s eyes and prayed he would take his words seriously.
“You must excuse our unceremonious behavior in accosting you this way Mr. Bennet,” he began, “but we just now, in Meryton, encountered several of your daughters in the company of a man of most thorough corruption, a true cad. We hurried here to warn you to guard your family against his machinations.” The words were spoken with simple and vehement sincerity but, nonetheless, they elicited a broad smile from Mr. Bennet, much to Darcy’s dismay.
“I suppose you refer to my heir, Mr. Collins?” the older man asked with chuckle. “He is the gentleman escorting my daughters this morning. While I must admit he does not stand high in my opinion, I have a hard time attributing any real mischief to the man. Surely you must be mistaken.”
Darcy blinked in momentary confusion, “Indeed not sir. I refer to Mr. George Wickham, a man whom I have had the misfortune to know all of my life. I know not what brings him to Hertfordshire, but I am quite familiar with his character. He has a long and sordid history of the kind to make fathers of unwed daughters shudder. Please take me seriously sir, for there can be no mistake.”
Now Mr. Bennet frowned, a far more welcome expression by Darcy’s way of thinking, and he nodded seriously at the older man in approval, grateful his words had made their impact. However, Mr. Bennet was not mearly convinced of the seriousness of the situation: more than he was concerned for the rogue in their midsts, he was interested in why the distant and formal Mr. Darcy had taken it upon himself to deliver such dire tidings. He was displaying an exceptional degree of interest in the well-being of the Bennet family. Mr. Bennet chose his words with care, “I appreciate this intelligence Mr. Darcy. The man’s name is Wickham you say? Excuse me, but I cannot help but ask how a man so disreputable came to be known by an honorable gentleman such as yourself?”
Darcy inhaled deeply to steady himself before replying, “Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates. We being nearly the same age, I had ample opportunity to observe his vicious propensities. Since both our fathers’ deaths, it seemed that all connection between us was dissolved until he intruded himself upon my attention about a year ago, when he was thwarted on the verge of elopement, in connivance with the lady’s companion, with a girl of only fifteen years of age. The man has no scruples, no honor; please believe me when I assure you that he is not to be trusted.”
“Very well, Mr. Darcy. I shall take care he stays well away from my daughters. Furthermore, I will inquire in town as to the reason for his presence in order to ascertain if it cannot somehow be expedited. If not, my daughters and those of other gentlemen in the neighborhood will be warned to stay clear of the man.”
Darcy was noticeably relieved, tension easing from him as he became secure his words had been heeded. But Mr. Bennet felt there was much more that needed to be said. “Mr. Bingley, you must be as anxious to visit with Jane as I know she is with you. Why not join her? I would like to speak a while longer with Mr. Darcy,” turning towards him, “if you don’t mind lingering, sir?” It seemed Darcy had relaxed too soon.
Chapter 11
“Would you care for a glass of sherry, Mr. Darcy? It is a bit early but, forgive me, you look as if it would be welcome.”
“It would sir. Thank you.” Darcy was far from knowing what to expect from this interview but he felt confident the conversation would be uncomfortable. A bit of fortification was most welcome. He accepted whatever fate was to be his along with his glass and waited for Mr. Bennet to reveal his intentions.
“So Mr. Darcy,” he said, settling back into his desk chair with his drink, “I believe you have more to say.”
“Do you indeed, sir?” He had expected the man to begin with a question or trivial comment to ease discussion, some hint of his purpose, not an open invitation to free discourse. Mr. Bennet gave him a knowing smile which made Darcy feel uncannily like a child in trouble, unwilling to admit it, and being taken to task by a seemingly omniscient father. “What does the man expect of me?” he wondered.
Mr. Bennet decided to be blunt, “The concern you have shown today, Mr. Darcy, on behalf of my family is extraordinary. If I paid attention to such things, I might be inclined to attribute your behavior to the rumors of an attachment between yourself and my daughter Elizabeth.”
He was right – this would be uncomfortable. Darcy knew not what to say, his feelings on the matter still being very much in turmoil. Mr. Bennet watched him struggle for a response and took pity on him, somewhat, by continuing, “Lizzy holds a special place amongst my children in my affections. Only she is a real companion to me – someone I can converse with who has the quickness, wit, and intelligence required for good company. Despite my wife’s behavior, I assure you I am in no rush to dispose of her in marriage and will only do so where I can be assured of her happiness. In the meantime, I may not always be able to provide her with all she deserves but I can, as her father, protect her from danger. And not just the kind posed by the likes of Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy. You have shown her attentions beyond what you have demonstrated towards any other lady in the neighborhood and it has given rise to wide speculation. While you have been the utmost gentleman on all occasions, I feel I must warn you, sir, that I cannot allow my daughter’s sentiments to be trifled with. So it is that I feel duty bound to ask: what exactly are your intentions towards my Lizzy?”
Though the words were spoken rather gently, Darcy felt nearly asphyxiated with shame. To be on the receiving end of such a lecture from a lady’s father – particularly Elizabeth Bennet’s father – despite all his best intentions was humiliating in the extreme. But his pride, as always, rallied; he would not shirk this confrontation. As disguise of every sort was his abhorrence, he had little choice but to fully confide in Mr. Bennet.
“I understand your concerns, sir, and share them myself. I have the utmost respect and admiration for both your daughter and her reputation. Never would I do anything to harm her, including toying with her affections. Regarding gossip, if there is anything you would like me to do in order to stem it, I will behave accordingly. Regarding our relationship, let me assure you that Miss Elizabeth herself has declared ours a friendship only. She neither seeks nor expects anything more from me.”
The hint of regret in Darcy’s voice as he spoke these last words was not lost on Mr. Bennet. He refrained from smirking at the thought of his matchmaking wife’s approval as he replied, “I know my daughter well and, as I am sure you have noticed, Mr. Darcy, my home is a bit chaotic. There is very little privacy to be had and Lizzy, in her own defense, has learned to closely guard her feelings, sometimes even from herself. She would never intentionally strive to deceive anyone, but if she instigated such a conversation with you as you recount, I have to imagine she did it in instinctive defensiveness. Had she no stronger feelings for you she would not have bothered; when the gossips grew loud, she would have simply avoided you.”
Darcy looked into the man’s eyes, noticing how very much like Elizabeth’s they were, and felt the truth of his words. Indeed, had he not suspected as much himself? “Dear God! Does she truly return my affection?” he wondered, a churning of anxious happiness swirling inside him before being dashed by a sense of hopelessness so complete it threatened to overwhelm him. He stood and began to pace the room with violent strides.
Mr. Bennet observed Mr. Darcy’s obvious torment with some degree of elation. Here was a man in love if he had ever seen one! Mr. Darcy was ideal for Lizzy, everything she deserved, but obviously something stood in his way. Mr. Bennet braced himself to hear what the obstacle was that impeded his daugh
ter’s path to happiness, fervently hoping it could be easily overcome.
After many silent moments, Darcy finally stopped pacing and turned to his host, “Mr. Bennet, I must say that your words greatly distress me. As you have correctly perceived your daughter is of great interest to me – in fact, I believe her to be the handsomest woman of my acquaintance! But sir, you must understand the familial obligations by which I am constrained. My choice of wife is not mine alone to make – I must think of how the connection will affect my sister, my future children, and the well-being of my estate. If it was my feelings alone that had to be considered, the situation would be different, but that is not the case. I must do my duty to my name.”
Mr. Bennet was far from pleased with this speech; he felt the inherent insult to himself in the words, but recognized with the wisdom of age that it was not intended as such. Still, he hadn’t perceived Mr. Darcy to be such a proud man and instinctively angry words intended to knock the pomposity out of the man threatened to erupt before he checked them. His many years had taught Mr. Bennet better means by which to gain his point. “Am I to understand, sir, that you would sacrifice happiness to your family’s social ambitions?” Darcy did not respond. “As one who has lived a bit longer than you have, sir, and has had the advantage of experiencing many years of the married state, let me assure you that what one is convinced one wants in marriage is seldom what one learns, once it’s too late, one needs. No monetary reward is large enough to compensate for an unhappy marriage, believe me. Surely an astute young man such as yourself has noticed that my wife and I are ill-matched, though I do love her in my own way. Like so many young men, had I been wiser I would have chosen differently.”