by Adams, Alexa
“Let me assure you, ma’am, that I have no desire to marry. I had much rather be allowed to keep quietly to myself here.” Anne looked timidly at her mother. It had taken a great bout of courage to defy her and she was nearly drained from the exertion. Noting her fatigue, Lady Catherine’s motherly instincts overtook her ambitions.
“I would never insist you do something against your will Anne. You are an adult and I have always treated you as such but, right now, I must insist that you act like one by removing upstairs. I predict you will be unable to join us for dinner following this ridiculous display. You must attend more carefully to your lady, Mrs. Jenkinson.”
Anne complied, followed by both the chastened Mrs. Jenkinson and her mother, who sharply ordered the housekeeper to show the guests to their rooms. Both Darcys breathed slight sighs of relief. They would not be thrown from the house that evening.
--
Anne did not join them for dinner, a quiet affair. Never had the siblings seen their Aunt Catherine so subdued, though she was not so downcast as to deny herself the pleasure of interrogating Georgiana regarding the progress of her studies, but even this was done half-heartedly. Typically Lady Catherine took great pride in Georgiana’s achievements. She considered her niece amongst the most accomplished young ladies in the kingdom, in no small part due to her own invaluable advice, but on that night it only served as a reminder of Anne’s chronic ill health. The diners did not touch on the subject of marriage, it was still too raw, yet Darcy recognized that it must be resumed before his departure if he was to remain on cordial terms with his aunt.
Upon waking the next morning, Darcy looked out the window to observe that, though the grounds remained wet, the rain had momentarily subsided. He decided to seize the opportunity for some fresh air and called for a mount, hoping the exercise would compose his thoughts. So focused was he on how to resume the previous day’s conversation with his aunt that it was not until he passed the parsonage, situated just outside the grounds, that he realized he had unwittingly performed Mr. Collins a second service by not depriving him of the joy, which he was sure to relish, of announcing his impending nuptials to Lady Catherine himself. “Let him enjoy it,” he thought while dismounting in order to walk around the house, taking note of its appointments so he could answer any questions the Bennets might have about Mary’s new home. It would be far more pleasant when his future trips to Rosings could be conducted in Elizabeth’s company; she would delight in the easy access to her sister, just across the park. So be it. Since the night of the assembly, event after event had decidedly proven that fate could be trusted to care for its own concerns. The rectory was well cared for and salubriously situated; he believed Miss Mary would like it very well.
He returned to the house, changed from his muddied clothes, and proceeded downstairs to find Lady Catherine partaking of a solitary breakfast. “Ah, Darcy,” was her grim greeting. “You always were an early riser. How do you find the grounds?”
“Lovely even in this foul weather, Aunt.”
“Indeed they are,” she snapped, wondering in silent bitterness why he would reject an estate he so admired when it was his for the taking, though she well knew the answer. “You might mind the weather and reconsider your impetuous travel arrangements.”
Darcy chose not to resume that topic, “When I return in the spring with my cousin Fitzwilliam, ma’am, I will look thoroughly into any repairs that are needed with your steward, as usual. My cursory survey this morning will aid me then. I imagine that the western wall will need to be reinforced if this winter proves difficult.”
“Perhaps you would rather forgo the burden. It would befit you to remain in London throughout the season. You shall need to find yourself a bride.”
Such a direct attack he could not ignore, “My dear Aunt Catherine, please, let not this sorry business be a source of bitterness between us. You know I shall always care for your affairs. Our family is small and we depend on each other – there lies our strength. A rift would be unbearable. If I choose to add to our numbers I truly hope, as one of my nearest relations, you will welcome her as an asset and love her as a niece. Georgiana, too, someday will marry. This is how we will secure the future, both for ourselves as well as for you and Anne.”
Darcy’s appeal was well aimed. Lady Catherine, in spite of her imperious demeanor, was rather frightened on the score of familial strength. Her heritage and wealth had always served as a protective force against the ills of life, but she knew as well as anyone that not only money was needed: strength is found in numbers. With Sir Louis de Bourgh long dead and Anne’s health uncertain, she faced the very real and terrifying prospect of finding herself left all alone in the world. The appeal of a marriage between Darcy and Anne was not just the union of two great estates but also the security such a match would provide. The insurance of a next generation was all important. She hated the idea of being the last vestige of her line, slowly fizzling out. But Anne was right, as was Darcy. Childbirth could quite possibly kill her daughter, and her nephew would never abandon her interests, no matter who he married. He, Georgiana, and her other nephews could be counted on to do their duty and expand the family. Instinct led her to try and hold her few relatives together in a closely knit group but that course being blocked, she could concede that bringing in new members was a rational strategy to pursue. After mulling over these thoughts she was reassured enough to speak in nearly her usual, officious manner, “Very well then Darcy. I shall leave you to your own affairs. But mind who you do choose as a wife. Don’t be swept away by one of these weak, sniveling women who are all the fashion these days. The mistress of Pemberley must have the strength to wield such a household. Had I been raised like one of your modern ladies, this estate would have been in sorry condition indeed when Sir Louis died. Find a wife who is up to the task or mark my words, you will learn to regret it.”
Darcy smiled. Clearly, he was forgiven. “You are quite right Aunt,” he replied. “London is full of women who may have all the familial credentials but who are, nonetheless, unfit for the task. These fashionable ladies of the Ton may entertain beautifully but it takes more than a well played concerto and drawing room elegance to be mistress of a large estate. I require a wife who will be my partner in improving Pemberley but, sadly, a woman who combines intelligence and grace is a rare gem indeed.” He tried not to think of his words as deceitful.
“Do not be so quick to dismiss breeding, Darcy,” Lady Catherine said sternly. “Nothing is more important. But perhaps London is not the place for you to search. A gently bred lady of the country might suit, someone uncorrupted by the frivolity of town. I shall keep an eye out for an appropriate candidate: a lady of good but retired family.”
“That is an excellent idea Aunt. Just what is wanted.”
The remainder of the short visit passed companionably. Georgiana played for the family that evening to everyone’s great enjoyment but, in particular, to Anne’s. While most ladies would cringe at the idea of spinsterhood, it came to Anne de Bourgh as a great relief that her mother had abandoned her matrimonial schemes. Rarely had she been as relaxed and content as she was that evening, happy in the companionship of her cousins.
Brother and sister departed immediately after Matins, despite Lady Catherine’s ongoing protests against traveling in the rain on a Sunday. Just narrowly did they escape Mr. Collins, newly returned from Hertfordshire, as he hastened towards their party upon completion of the service. Darcy wondered briefly how much of his budding relationship with Elizabeth Bennet Mr. Collins would reveal to Lady Catherine but decided he cared not. His aunt had declared her intention of letting him decide for himself and he planned to make her abide by it. The separation from Elizabeth had proven to him the depth of his love for her. He had Georgiana’s approval and, in a nominal manner, his aunt’s. No rain storm, muddy road, or holy day would prevent him from asking for her hand as soon as possible – Tuesday, at the latest.
Chapter 18
At Longbourn
the incessant rain was virtually ignored by the family, fully rapt as they were in the flurry of two weddings to plan. Only Lydia had cause to complain of boredom and was chagrined to find herself ignored by a mother who had no time for such considerations. Jane and Elizabeth were almost never alone as the former’s attention was totally occupied between Mrs. Bennet’s demands, regarding even the most minute of wedding details, and the devoted Mr. Bingley’s daily visits.
This left Elizabeth, when her attention wasn’t similarly garnered by her mother, with a great deal of leisure for reflection. The solitude was sorely needed as she had never before had more on which to think. How overwhelming were the changes only a few days could bring! She was to see her dear Jane happily married – who could deserve it more? Remarkably, Mary too would soon be suitably settled in a marriage that would alleviate the long born burden of the entail. And then there was Mr. Darcy – the fine hairs on her arms prickled at the thought of him. At the slightest break in the storm she sought relief outdoors. As the weather confined most of the neighborhood to their homes, no one observed her skipping along the muddy paths, sometimes spinning wildly in a circle, her skirts billowing about her, fluttering just like her uncontainable excitement. Always had she hoped but never allowed herself to truly believe that she would meet exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her, let alone one with the means Mr. Darcy had at his disposal! Though she could not visualize the grandeur of Pemberley, she could clearly imagine herself and Mr. Darcy wandering across a magnificent landscape – like those she had seen in her father’s lithographs of the Peaks – happy, content, and thoroughly in love. “Stop it!” she admonished herself. It would not do to think on it, not while his intentions were still uncertain. But the overture he had made had already demolished her paltry defenses and she could not prevent herself from dwelling on the many ways in which he so perfectly answered all her wishes. Should he propose, she was determined that all the advantages of the union be not felt on her side alone. No indeed. She would do her utmost to be the best mistress of Pemberley (though she barely dared to think the words) possible. She would relax the master’s severe personality as, she was beginning to recognize, only she could. She would attend to the needs of the tenants in the efficient manner of an intelligent and compassionate woman. But then again, should he not propose – well, as that idea had become far too painful to contemplate, it was easily banished.
While Elizabeth struggled, the marriage plans plowed quickly forward around her, overcoming all worries and aggravations in their path. No obstacle could stand up to the combined force of altar bound Bennets. An example of this phenomenon arose when the time for Mr. Collins’ departure approached and he made much of delaying the choosing of a date for the wedding until his return in two weeks, it being imperative that he consult with Lady Catherine in order to determine when he could be spared. “I had suspected I’d need be absent from my duties on only one more occasion,” he declared with great pomp, “but now I find I must beg my noble patroness’ indulgence twice – the first on the day when my union with Miss Mary will render me the happiest of men and the second, when I can perform that same service for my future brother, Mr. Bingley, and my dear cousin Jane.”
“But surely,” Jane timidly replied, “if your presence is required at Hunsford you need not attend our simple ceremony.”
“So kind of you Miss Bennet, to think of the needs of my parish, but not for the world would I miss the opportunity of officiating at your wedding.”
As no one had ever requested that Mr. Collins perform such a service, this announcement was grudgingly received. Both Jane and Mr. Bingley felt extremely awkward: they were complacent by nature and did not wish to disappoint Mr. Collins by rejecting his uninvited offer, but they were equally uninclined to listen to his absurd, if well-intended, droning throughout their wedding. It was Mary who offered an acceptable solution to this particular quandary, observing that a double ceremony would display a more befitting appearance of economy while providing the added benefit of allowing Mr. Collins more time for his duties at Hunsford, which Mary intended to encourage him to attend to most assiduously. Though he was unconcerned for economy, Bingley happily accepted this solution to the problem and related the tale with relish to Darcy when he returned to Netherfield on Monday evening.
“Narrow escape there, hey Darcy? Imagine the happiest moment of my life being presided over by Mr. Collins!”
“Frightening indeed. Are you truly as happy as you appear Bingley? Such animation as you display this evening is unusual even by your standards.”
“Yes I am. No one could be happier.” He grew serious, “Jane is the most wonderful woman the world could possibly contain and I could not be more honored that she has accepted my hand.” Both gentlemen quietly sipped their brandy. “And what of you Darcy?” Bingley broke the silence.
“Me, Bingley?”
“Yes, you Darcy. How are your feelings towards Miss Elizabeth proceeding?”
“I thought of little else while away.”
“And?” Bingley prodded expectantly.
Darcy suppressed a smile and said, with his customary sobriety, “I look forward to being in her company again.”
“Is that all?” Bingley asked, somewhat crestfallen. “I assured Jane that you would be ready to propose upon your return.”
“I’m not sure what compelled you to make such an assertion. Not everyone need run into marriage in your head long manner, Bingley.” That gentleman happily laughed off the jab.
“What of Wickham?” Darcy changed the topic. “Have you seen any more of him?”
“Not at all. Caroline seems to have relinquished her defense of the acquaintance, thankfully. In fact, I believe her largely returned to her normal self.”
“Glad to hear it Bingley. It was rather painful being in her company while she insisted on glaring at me so.”
“Yes, I too shall not miss her glowering across the table from me everyday, not that her smiles are all that much more comforting,” he smirked. “You will accompany me when I visit Longbourn tomorrow, will you not?”
Darcy adamantly agreed that he would.
--
Thrilled that the rain had finally ceased and anxious to be out and about, Lydia and Kitty set forth the following morning on a walk to Meryton. The excitement of being released from the house was compounded by the announcement just made that Mr. Bingley intended to give a Christmas ball, both in honor of the holiday and to celebrate his impending marriage. This gave added direction to the girls walk, as they were determined to survey every inch of available merchandise the town had to offer in their quest for the perfect ribbons and trims for the event. It was imperative that this task be completed expediently so they would have ample time to write to their Aunt Gardiner, requesting any missing items be brought from London when she visited. Merry they certainly were with the added felicity of a ball to anticipate on top of all the other excitement currently found at Longbourn.
“If Aunt and Uncle Gardiner would be so obliging, I’m sure I’d just adore shoe-roses from London!” Lydia enthusiastically exclaimed.
“Lizzy suggests Aunt Gardiner would not wish to be burdened with such trivialities,” Kitty giggled, “though I’m certain she plans to request a whole medley of items for herself, anxious as she must be to please Mr. Darcy.”
“If Mr. Darcy should marry Lizzy,” Lydia mused aloud, “do you think he might be induced to give a ball in our honor, in order to properly introduce us to London society? Certainly he must already be planning a season for Miss Darcy and it would be easy enough to include us in the festivities.”
“Oh! I cannot imagine so. It would be too great an imposition, would it not?
“How could it be? The few pounds we would cost him mean nothing to a man like Mr. Darcy.”
“What do you think she will be like, Lydia?”
“Whoever do you mean?”
“Why Georgiana Darcy of course.” Kitty had been consum
ed with curiosity regarding this young lady ever since she had first been made aware of her existence, creating quite a fantastic portrait in her mind of a lady combining all that amounts to perfection: talent, grace, and carriage. It was an image greatly enhanced by the glowing accounts she had heard Miss Bingley provide of Miss Darcy.
“How am I to know what she is like? Hopefully we will find her more sociable than her brother!” Lydia carelessly retorted.
“I like Mr. Darcy – so handsome and mysterious! I imagine his sister must be terribly refined,” Kitty confessed with a hint of nervousness. To herself she thought, “Perhaps once we have been in school for a while she will not find our company too intolerable.”
“Well, if Mr. Darcy never manages to propose, we may never even meet her.”
“Surely he will propose Lydia, else he would not bestow such attentions on Lizzy – not a gentleman like him!”
“Mr. Bingley and Mr. Collins managed well enough, why should Mr. Darcy hesitate?”
“The comparison is unfair! Mr. Darcy is worlds more refined than Mr. Collins and even quite a bit more so than Mr. Bingley!” Again, the elder sister left much unsaid. She had her own theory as to why Mr. Darcy might hesitate to unite himself to the Bennet family and it was too painful to acknowledge aloud, especially just to be lightly dismissed by Lydia. From their first encounters she had noted the way in which Mr. Darcy observed their behavior with disdain, causing her, for the first time in her life, to critique her own disposition. With her findings she was not content. Kitty already knew she had a tendency towards peevishness (Lizzy having frequently told her so) which she was endeavoring to correct, but now she also recognized that the exuberance which both she and Lydia had often displayed in public, while most effective in garnering the attention of the local gentlemen, might not be perceived as terribly becoming in a young lady. Whenever Mr. Darcy was around she had taken to watching his responses and checking herself accordingly, that gentleman holding as elevated a place in her mind as his sister.