by Jann Rowland
“Unfortunately, I cannot help you there, my friend,” replied Darcy with a smile, letting Bingley know that he was not upset with him.
“Of course not,” said Bingley with a mirthless guffaw. “Your sister is the most obliging and tractable creature in existence, while mine happens to be the least. Of course you cannot empathize.”
They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door, and Darcy looked at Bingley, who seemed to agree with him as to who was likely waiting to gain entrance. At Bingley’s raised eyebrow, Darcy shrugged and motioned for him to open the door. It was just as well that they get the matter sorted out immediately, as Darcy would prefer not to have it hanging over Elizabeth’s head and dampening her joy in this season leading up to her wedding.
When Bingley opened the door, Miss Bingley was found on the other side as expected. The woman’s eyes darted to Darcy’s face quickly before she turned her attention back on her brother, saying: “I had understood that Mr. Darcy was visiting. I thought I would inquire as to whether you require anything.”
“So good of you to take a personal interest in our guest’s comfort, Caroline,” said Bingley. For the first time Darcy could remember, his friend’s voice held more than a hint of a sardonic edge, a fact which Miss Bingley seemed to recognize herself, if her startled look was in any way indicative. “In fact, we had thought to send for you, as there is a particular matter we would like to discuss. If you would be so kind as to step inside, we may deal with the matter forthwith.”
With a quiet acceptance, Miss Bingley stepped into the room, and Darcy was amused at how many times her eyes darted to him. Her mind was clearly warring over hope that he would finally make her an offer and fear that he had heard of her confrontation with Elizabeth.
“Yes, Charles?” asked she when she was seated. “How may I assist you?”
“You may assist me by ceasing your attentions to Darcy and refraining from attempting to threaten his betrothed.” Darcy was shocked at Bingley’s blunt words, and it was clear that whatever Miss Bingley had expected, she had certainly not thought her brother would speak to her in such a manner.
“I am afraid I cannot fathom your meaning, Charles,” said she as she twisted a handkerchief in her hands with nervous energy. “Whatever Miss Eliza has told you, I am sure she merely misconstrued—”
“Let us be open and honest with one another,” said Darcy, interrupting the woman’s rambling denials. “I am well aware of your ambitions, Miss Bingley, and I have been aware of them almost since the moment we first met.”
“Then why—”
“Because I do not wish you for a wife,” said Darcy, looking directly at her to ensure he was not misunderstood. “I wish for something more than you can offer in the woman I marry, and though I do not doubt that you would meet some other man’s requirements admirably, you and I do not suit. Regardless of the state of my relationship with any woman, I will never make you an offer of marriage.”
Miss Bingley seemed to deflate at his words, and she sank into her chair, this time apparently believing him. Darcy was not of mind to break the woman’s spirit, even after all she had said to Elizabeth earlier that day. And Elizabeth herself had suggested clemency, which Darcy was inclined to grant. But he would not tolerate any further attacks.
“Regarding the matter of your conversation with Elizabeth today,” said Darcy, “I am prepared to allow the matter to rest. But from this time forward, I will not tolerate any untoward behavior toward my betrothed. I suggest you guard whatever you have learned of her past as your most cherished secret, for I will not be merciful should any mention of it become the fodder for London’s gossips.”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bingley, though her tone was almost inaudible. “Not a word of it shall pass my lips.”
“Thank you. I shall keep up the connection for your brother’s sake and because of Elizabeth’s specific request. Please use this opportunity to secure a proposal from some interested man, if that is your desire.”
“I shall, Mr. Darcy.” Miss Bingley took a deep breath and stood, addressing her brother: “Charles, if you will excuse me, I believe that I shall retire.”
Bingley gave his approval, and Miss Bingley left the room, though without the undue haste which Darcy might have expected. When the door closed behind her, Darcy looked to his friend, seeing an unusually pensive expression staring back at him.
“Well, that appears to have done the trick.”
“I should think so. Unless she has suddenly developed a talent for the theater,” replied Darcy. “I apologize, Bingley. Perhaps we should have had this discussion previously to save her the mortification.”
“But it was proper that I spoke with her, Darcy,” said Bingley. “And besides, I doubt she would have even listened to you had she not also had your engagement staring her in the face.”
“You might be correct, my friend,” said Darcy. “You might be correct.”
It was the day before Christmas when a second unwelcome visitor arrived at the Gardiners’ townhouse, but on this occasion, the visitor asked to speak with Mr. Gardiner rather than Elizabeth, which was just as well, as Darcy was certain Elizabeth wished to see just about anyone else in the world other than this man.
Darcy and Bingley had been invited to spend Christmas Eve with the family, and they had been in the study with Gardiner sharing a glass of port. The ladies had not yet descended from their chambers; Darcy was anticipating their arrival, for he knew that Elizabeth would be even lovelier than ever that evening in her Christmas finery.
When the ponderous and sweating form of Mr. Collins was shown into Mr. Gardiner’s study, Darcy prepared himself for inanities aplenty. Mr. Collins could not fail to provide amusement, even if it was a dark variety.
Mr. Collins blanched upon seeing both Darcy and Bingley present. For a moment, Darcy thought the man might flee rather than face him again, but he summoned some well of courage and entered the room, bowing before Gardiner’s desk in a grandiose manner.
“Mr. Gardiner,” said he, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, for I understand that you have had Elizabeth’s care these many years, though I must own that I cannot fathom the reason why she lived so many years away from Longbourn. I regret that . . . well, what I mean to say . . .” Mr. Collins paused and mopped his brow before he pressed on, saying, “That is, given my own experience with Elizabeth, I could perhaps wish that you had been more successful in instilling a sense of . . . duty and . . . respect for her betters. But I must suppose that the child proved intractable.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Gardiner.
Appearing nonplused, Mr. Collins blurted, “I beg your pardon?”
“To you, Mr. Collins, my niece should be referred to as ‘Miss Elizabeth.’”
A sniff of contempt met Mr. Gardiner’s words. “As you wish. I suppose I cannot be surprised that your niece’s lack of manners is also exhibited in the man who raised her, though I own I had hoped for the best.”
Clearly, Mr. Gardiner was enjoying the spectacle, though Darcy, who was of much longer acquaintance with the man, was already at the point of throwing him into the gutter where he belonged. Still, it was Mr. Gardiner’s house, and as Mr. Gardiner still had the responsibility for protecting Elizabeth, Darcy kept his own counsel and watched the proceedings.
“Is it not evincing a lack of manners to refer to a woman by her first name?” asked Mr. Gardiner. “Elizabeth is not connected to you in any way, Mr. Collins, and I assure you that she never will be again. Now, I would ask you why you have come. I had believed that the pleasure of meeting you would be indefinitely postponed, as I rather thought you would avoid any place where my niece was in residence.”
“Yes, well, I have come for a particular reason. You see, I was until lately a resident at my cousin Bennet’s home after having returned Eliz . . .” Mr. Collins trailed off and swallowed thickly when he saw Darcy and Gardiner’s twin glares of displeasure. “That is, after I returned Miss Elizabeth
to her family. I had made the journey in the convenience of my own modest conveyance, and as the distance was long, I was forced to wait until my horse was rested before I returned to Kent. During that time, I took the opportunity to . . . confer with my cousin, though I will own that the man has used me most grievously. It was there that I discovered a piece of important information which is the reason for my visit today.”
Darcy almost snorted with amusement at the man. How anyone could use so many words to say so little was beyond his comprehension.
“And what have you discovered?” asked Mr. Gardiner as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him.
It was at that point when Collins suddenly seemed to become nervous. It was clear—perhaps belatedly so—that he was in enemy territory and had no friends. Darcy considered the man to be nothing more than vermin, and it likely showed on his face, while Gardiner, though he appeared to be speaking to the man congenially, gazed at Collins with glittering eyes, bringing to mind the proverbial cat toying with the mouse. And even Bingley, who was perhaps the most even-tempered and pleasant man Darcy had ever met, was watching the parson with a disapproving scowl.
Mr. Collins was silent for several moments, clearly struggling to determine what to say—or perhaps trying to figure out how to present his case so that he had the most chance of success.
“Well, Mr. Collins?”
As if Gardiner’s words had suddenly pushed him into action, Collins blurted: “I understand that you have settled a dowry on Eliz—on Miss Elizabeth.”
“And if I have?” challenged Gardiner. “What is it to you?”
“I want it,” said Mr. Collins.
A sardonic snort met Collins’s declaration. “And why would I give it to you, of all people?”
“Because Miss Elizabeth was married to me!” said Collins, displaying a hint of temper. “As she married me, her dowry should belong to me. I demand that you release it to me.”
Gardiner’s eyes fixed on Collins, and the temperature of the room seemed to drop almost perceptibly. “You must be the stupidest man in England if you think that you could claim a dowry under such circumstances.”
“It is mine, and I will not hesitate to bring suit against you if you do not comply.” But though Collins’s words were intended to be firm and threatening, Darcy could detect a hint of a petulant whine in them, and he knew that a businessman of Gardiner’s acumen would hear it as well.
“Let us be very clear on the matter, sir,” said Gardiner, his voice now harsh and his focus sharp on the intruder, “you have no claim to Elizabeth’s dowry, and if you think you do, then it is in your imagination. You and Bennet coerced her to the altar and forced her to accept a marriage, contravened several canon laws in the process, and took her off to Kent without her permission. She has since been declared separated from you via annulment, making the marriage void, as though it had never even occurred.
“In addition to this,” continued Mr. Gardiner, his voice rising to drown out whatever the man was trying to say, “I attached several provisions to her dowry, the most important of which, from your perspective, is that I must approve of her marriage partner before her dowry can be released. I can tell you that I would never have approved of you, no matter what had happened with respect to the annulment.”
Collins gasped. “You would have withheld the dowry had she remained married to me?”
“I would have released it to her under conditions which would have resulted in you never seeing a penny of it, Mr. Collins. It would have been her money and therefore completely beyond your reach.”
The room was silent for a few moments while Mr. Collins attempted to understand exactly what he was being told. Gardiner continued watching the man through narrowed eyes, though he never lost his geniality. It was clear to Darcy, however, that only the fact that he was a gentleman was preventing him from throwing Collins out himself.
“You may attempt to bring suit against me, Mr. Collins, but I assure you that your suit is doomed to failure. You will not ever see so much as a farthing from me, and if I have my way, you will never so much as lay eyes on Elizabeth again.”
Shocked, Mr. Collins looked around the room wildly before he seemed to crumple in upon himself. When he spoke again, his typical pomposity was gone in favor of a wheedling sort of supplication.
“I have been relieved of my duties at Hunsford and thrown from the parsonage as if I had not obeyed her ladyship’s every command and catered to her every whim. And it is all because of your niece, Mr. Gardiner. I demand restitution.”
“My aunt has not the power to remove you from your position, Mr. Collins,” interjected Darcy. “You may return to her and tell her such.”
Mr. Collins paused and licked his lips, and when he spoke again, it was in a halting tone. “The . . . church has . . . launched an investigation against me. It is due to the . . . archbishop’s decree that I am stripped of my office and . . . suspended as a member of the clergy. There is to be . . . a hearing . . . next month to determine my exact . . . status.”
“Good,” said Gardiner, his pitiless eyes boring into the hunched-over caricature of a man standing in front of him. “Your actions have earned you nothing less. I hope the church irrevocably casts you from the ranks of the clergy, as there is no place for one such as you within that fraternity.”
If Darcy thought Collins had been shocked before, it was nothing compared to the way his face lost all color at Gardiner’s pronouncement. He appeared to not know what to say, as his mouth worked, but no sound emerged. It was a peculiar sight; in the course of Darcy’s acquaintance with the man, Darcy had never actually seen him at a loss for words. Typically, it was quite the reverse.
“Now, I suggest you leave, Mr. Collins, as you are not welcome here. Though I have faith in Elizabeth’s ability to laugh at the absurd, I will not chance her becoming upset at the sight of you.”
And depart Mr. Collins did, with a defeated air Darcy had never seen in the man before. He might have felt sorry for the man if he had displayed any sense at all or had acknowledged his own culpability in what had happened. But he remained stubbornly convinced that he was in the right.
“And that, gentlemen, is how you dispose of a fool,” said Gardiner.
Darcy and Bingley both laughed.
Had the past been different and Elizabeth grown up in her father’s house as a welcome member, Darcy could not know what his reaction to Mr. Bennet might have been. He could not imagine ever respecting the man, but it was possible. He could not imagine, however, having anything but the highest regard for Mr. Gardiner. That, he was certain, would never have changed.
Chapter XXXII
The next weeks were busy, as there were weddings to plan, trousseaux to purchase, details to plan, family to become acquainted with, and events to attend.
As per their original plan, Mr. Bingley and Jane were married in a small ceremony the week before Christmas, fulfilling all her hopes of happiness and contentment and his desire for a wife who would complement him in every way. From the groom’s family, his sisters were present, and he had some family from his home near York who also made the journey to attend. From the bride’s family, her closest sister and her uncle and aunt were the only ones in attendance. Jane had declared that she had no desire to have her parents attend, and though one could only speculate as to Mrs. Bennet’s likely reaction to the news of the marriage, all were certain that Mr. Bennet had likely met the announcement with nothing more than a shrug and a demand for his wife to leave him in peace.
In Elizabeth’s eyes, there had never been a more beautiful bride, and Mr. Bingley looked very well indeed as he stood grinning at the front of the church, anticipating the arrival of the bride on the arm of her uncle. Of course, Elizabeth could not say that Mr. Bingley was the most handsome of grooms, for she was sure he could not compare to Mr. Darcy, who would, after all, be marrying her within the next two weeks. In fact, that very thought was the subject of some gentle teasing
the night before Jane’s wedding.
“I could never imagine that I could be so fortunate,” Elizabeth had mused as Mrs. Gardiner brushed her hair the night before Jane’s wedding. Jane sat on the bed watching them, and Elizabeth knew from speaking with her previously that Jane had envied her sister the closeness with their aunt. This pleasant scene was something for which she had always longed.
“How so, my dear?” asked Mrs. Gardiner.
“To attract the attention of a man such as Mr. Darcy is beyond anything my imagination could ever have come up with,” said Elizabeth. Her eyes were slightly unfocused as she thought of her betrothed, but that did not prevent her from seeing the amused looks which passed between her relations.
“I, on the other hand, am not surprised in the slightest,” said Mrs. Gardiner. She finished her brushing and took Elizabeth’s long hair in her hands and began to braid it for sleep.
“How so?” asked Elizabeth.
“You are a wonderful young woman, Elizabeth. I have always thought you would find some man who would look past society’s expectations regarding dowry and connections and realize the benefits of having you for a wife.”
“I am not surprised either,” said Jane, though in her typical quiet and diffident way. “I must own, however, that I often feared that no young man would look past the impropriety of my mother and sisters and make me an offer. I feel blessed indeed.”
Her hair braided, Elizabeth vacated the chair in front of the vanity and allowed Jane to take her place. “And I cannot imagine you remaining without a husband,” said Elizabeth with a smile for her sister. “You are so sweet and obliging that you must be valued as such. My mother and younger sisters cannot overcome that which you would bring to a marriage.”
Jane flushed and nodded her thanks, though her manner was slightly uneasy. Elizabeth was well aware of the reason for this reticence. Apparently, Mrs. Gardiner was as well.