Darcy and the Accomplished Woman

by Linda Phelps

  “That was yesterday, Mr. Longstreet, as you very well know.”

  “And Darcy’s sister is a welcome addition to your circle?

  “Very much so,” said Caroline. “I quite dote on her.”

  “And your friend from Hertfordshire, the pretty lady I danced with at your ball, do you see her often?”

  “Not so very often,” said Caroline. “She is living with an aunt and uncle in the warehouse district. It is quite far away.”

  William was silent for a moment. “Not so far as all that. I have called upon her three times in as many weeks.”

  “But why should you,” asked Caroline. “She is not a particular friend of yours.”

  “Perhaps she will become so,” said William.

  Caroline felt instant anger toward Jane Bennet. How dare she use her charms on William Longstreet? One dance at a ball in November did not entitle her to take such liberties. When Caroline was confident she could speak calmly, she said, “I expect she will not be many more days in town. I hope you will not be too disheartened when she returns to the country.”

  William looked at her with curiosity “She leaves when her sister returns from Rosings,” said William.

  Caroline felt the breath leave her body. “There is a Bennet sister at Rosings? Which sister?” she asked.

  The one called Elizabeth,” said William. “I believe she is next eldest after Miss Bennet herself.”

  “Elizabeth Bennet!” said Caroline.

  “My dear Miss Bingley,” said William. “Are you ill? You have become quite pale? Shall I fetch you something to drink?”

  “Please,” she said. By the time he returned she had regained her composure. “And how is it that Elizabeth Bennet is at Rosings? Did Mr. Darcy or Lady de Bourgh invite her?”

  As I understand it, she stays with a friend who recently married Lady Catherine’s prelate, who, if I recall it correctly, is a Bennet cousin. She stays at the rectory.”

  Caroline found she could breathe again. “How enjoyable for her,” said she. “And now, if you will excuse me, I must have a word with my sister.”

  Darcy’s Journal (Rosings)

  I begin to have a certain sympathy for Bingley’s desire to return to Netherfield to bid farewell to Jane Bennet. Elizabeth Bennet has attracted me as no woman has done before. I find I keep postponing the day of our departure for London so that I can continue to be in her presence.

  I rather suffer when I consider the impossibility that I offer her my hand. The same objections the Bingley sisters and I had to Elizabeth’s sister’s relationship with Bingley apply equally in my case. In truth, they apply even more strongly, considering my position as compared to Bingley’s. Elizabeth lacks dowry and education. Her family, barring only Jane Bennet, is unbearable. Charming as she is, she is not the woman to become mistress of Pemberly. Nothing in her breeding has prepared her to assume such a post. Still, I find that I long to find her walking the paths of Rosings. When I cannot do so, I discover I must call at the rectory so as to be able to watch her.

  I would I were more like Bingley, able to enjoy the company of a young woman for a time, then depart from her and not think of her again.

  Perhaps it will happen like that for me when I leave Rosings. It is impossible to suppose I will meet Elizabeth after, unless she should again be staying in the rectory a year from now. I shall forgot her before the summer arrives. I shall surely have decided to make an offer of my hand to Caroline Bingley. She is the woman who is most suitable to become my wife. Caroline, with her breeding and elegance, is the perfect woman for the post. I will ask her and her family to stay at Pemberly in late summer so as to view her in her proper setting. If any doubt remains about my choice, it will disappear. All will be settled at that time, and we should marry before Christmas. At Easter, when I come to Rosings, Caroline will be with me. Thus Elizabeth Bennet will have no power over me.

  Miss Bingley’s Journal (London)

  William Longstreet’s attentions are beyond my comprehension. It seems I am not the only recipient of his compliments. He has been calling of Jane Bennet! I will never deny that Jane is a sweet girl, but colourless. If not for her beauty, who would notice her? It would be well if she returned to the charms of Meryton and its regiment. One of the officers would be entirely suitable for her to marry.

  Not that I think for a moment that William has marriage with Jane Bennet on his mind. He is, as Louisa frequently points out, very fond of me, although I do speak sharply to him from time to time, especially when we are in company with others. I sometimes think he will forgive me anything.

  Therefore what can he mean by attending to Jane Bennet? Even if he is a second son, he is far above any Bennet in terms of his family connections and wealth.

  It was all I could manage not to state how angry I was with him.

  Then to discover that Elizabeth Bennet has been staying some weeks at the rectory at Rosings just when Darcy makes his stay with his aunt! However did she manage that? How could she know that he stays there every Easter?

  I suppose that the cousin, Lady Catherine’s clergyman, may have told her, or told his wife who told her in turn. Miss Lizzie had detected, as I did, that Darcy favours her, and she then plotted with her friend, Miss Lucas that was, to be actually in Rosings Park when Darcy came. Her boldness is without equal.

  I will trust to her own ill-breeding and Darcy’s superior taste to prevent any sort of attachment forming. And just imagine what Lady Catherine (who is, I hear, very willing to speak her mind on all occasions) would say should she detect such a person making overtures to her nephew.

  Lizzy Bennet needs more than ‘fine eyes’ to attract a man like Darcy. Yet I wonder if he neglects to mention her presence in his letters to Georgiana.

  Darcy’s Journal (Rosings)

  Why should I not marry where I choose? I have money enough to eschew a dowry. I am able, if it comes to that, to support the entire Bennet family, although it is not likely to come to that. Some of the other sisters may make good marriages.

  If Elizabeth were at Pemberly she would lose her ties to her parents and sisters. We would be expected to invite them to stay, but not all at the same time, and not often.

  How pleasant it would be to present Elizabeth with the finest items that can be had. No more remaking of bonnets, as I once overheard her discussing with Mrs. Collins. No necessity of appearing at dinner always in the same gown. And certainly no walking through miles of dirt because ‘the horses are wanted at the farm’. She would have her own carriage, perhaps a landau for use in summer and a closed carriage for more inclement weather. I can trust Simon to select perfectly matched teams suitable for each equipage. As for the vehicles themselves, they would be the most comfortable and well looking that can be purchased.

  I believe choosing a woman who does not presently have an easy life is wise for another reason. I will guide her in the methods of her new situation. I will take great pleasure in answering her every desire. I will introduce her to Pemberly. I doubt she has ever seen so fine an estate. I will give her a suite of rooms that she may furnish exactly as she wishes. She will have lady’s maids in abundance who will make sure she looks and feels always her best. She will wear the Darcy jewels. I will have her portrait drawn to hang in the great gallery at Pemberly.

  We will have children. If we have daughters, I pray they will have eyes as beautiful as that of my Elizabeth. As for our sons, who better to teach them the manners of our society?

  I have not yet definitely decided to ask her, but I am inclining to it. Other than her station she is so much superior to any woman I have known that I begin to think I would be a fool not to make her an offer For the rest of my life I would regret losing this opportunity.

  Miss Darcy’s Journal (London)

  At last a letter from Brother. He does not yet name the day of his return, but he seems to be in excellent spirits. He promises me “a surprise that will astonish and delight you”.

  I do so hope that is no
t a reference to an agreement with Anne deBourgh. If he were to marry her, I would indeed be astonished but by no means would I be delighted.

  Perhaps I should present the mystery to my resident guardians. Let them ponder his meaning. I would enjoy seeing Miss Caroline examining his words. There is no way they can be interpreted as favorable to her plans. Still she might find a way to do just that. Mrs. Hurst has a much more practical turn of mind.

  As for delight, it might be amusing to watch Caroline’s face when he announces his plans.

  Darcy’s Journal (Rosings)

  It is all but concluded. How I remained in doubt as long as I did is something I cannot explain. My heart is light now that I have decided to make Elizabeth my wife. Fitzwilliam has teased me about my unusual smiling face.

  As it happens, he had just come from a walk with her. “How did she seem?” I asked. “A bit out of spirits,” said he.

  (I think Fitzwilliam would have her himself if only she had a reasonable dowry. He will envy me, but each of us must live the life to which we are born.)

  Does she know my design? Are her low spirits the result of a belief that I will never speak? She has given me many indications that she is willing to accept my addresses. I remember how she made sure that I knew the paths in Rosings Park upon which I might expect to find her’

  I am imagining the joy I will see on Elizabeth’s lovely face, once she has heard me. Perhaps when she was a child she dreamed of a Prince Charming who would whisk her away to his castle. And now it will happen. Pemberly is, in fact, one of the finest buildings in the realm.

  She is a guest at Rosings tonight. I will be agreeable to her in a way she cannot mistake. Let Aunt Catherine and Anne see what I am about. They will soon know the truth.

  When I make the offer, Elizabeth and I must be alone. Perhaps I can arrange to meet her on one of her favorite paths in the park. “I must speak privately with you,” I will say. She will suspect my reason for the meeting. Perhaps she will lie awake all the night in anticipation.

  What words shall I use? One does not have a guide for this moment. I must lead up to the topic by steps.

  These may be correct.

  ‘In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’

  Since Elizabeth is beyond all things an intelligent woman, she will appreciate how I have debated with myself. She will feel complimented that I have come to a conclusion so beneficial to her. She will behave in a modest fashion, as women are said to do at such times, but I will speak gently, and soon she will raise her face to mine, joy shining in her beautiful eyes. Then we will kiss for the first time.

  By this hour tomorrow, I shall be an engaged man. I shall take her immediately to London. That Georgiana will love her is a certainty

  I will doubtless have to explain to Aunt Catherine and Fitzwilliam how I came to make such a choice. They will not credit that I am in my senses, marrying one from such a place in society with such a family—they will be astonished. Perhaps I can give my arguments weight by writing them. Tomorrow night, after I have left dearest Elizabeth to the contemplation of a future filled with delight and comfort, I will write to Aunt. I am sure I will not be able to sleep..

  Although I am convinced he never felt as strongly about my dear Elizabeth’s sister as I feel for Elizabeth, should Bingley care to follow my example with Jane Bennet, I will wish him all possible joy. What a hypocrite I would be if I did not!

  Mr. and Mrs. Collins and their guests were expected at Rosings to drink tea that evening. Darcy, who prided himself on being always perfectly groomed and dressed, drove his servant to distraction, changing one coat for another, trying the effect of every tie he owned by staring at his own face in his looking glass, and then doing it all again. Still, he managed to be ready by the time the party was expected. He would be able to watch Elizabeth all the night, smiling at her when he caught her eye. Then the private moment would arrive when he arranged their rendezvous for the morrow. She would suspect what an honour was in store for her, but her natural reticence would convince her that perhaps some other matter needed communication. She would be in a state of suspense throughout the night.

  However when the Collins family arrived, Elizabeth Bennet was not of the group. Mrs. Collins stated briefly that she had stayed home with a head ache, but Mr. Collins, convinced that some principle of homage to their great hostess had been violated, made apologies for some minutes.

  “I told my cousin Elizabeth that you, Lady Catherine, would not be pleased at her failure to honour your hospitality this night. I promised to make her apologies. She is in the most abject distress in sorrow for her inability to enjoy the excellent supper that one expects when partaking of it at Rosings, but she felt she would be poor company tonight, since she was suffering…”

  “I am disappointed, Mr. Collins, for she seems a healthy girl,” said Lady Catherine, “but I have noticed in the past that she is a bit headstrong. I am sure that the supper itself would have done her good. Why Darcy, where are you going?”

  But Darcy did not turn to answer his aunt. What a perfect opportunity to see Elizabeth alone! The moon, as if in cooperation with his errand, was full. He walked quickly to the path that would take him to the rectory.

  As he walked, he rehearsed the words with which he intended to bring Elizabeth to an understanding of his purpose. They would speak of the weather, of the moonlight, of the festivities at Rosings from which they were absent. He would sympathize with her headache, demanding gently that she tell him if she needed a little wine or a cold cloth for her head. Then, when she was at ease with him, he would speak.

  The house was before him. The servant who answered the bell showed him into the drawing room, where Elizabeth sat. She immediately placed a book upon a stack of letters she had before her.

  “Miss Bennet,” said Darcy. “I come to inquire about your affliction. Are you more comfortable than you were earlier?”

  “I am, sir,” said she. “And I thank you for your concern.” She folded her hands in her lap and fell silent.

  Darcy sat equally silent for a few moments. All his rehearsed words had fled from him once he was in the presence of Elizabeth. He became aware that their failure to speak to each other indicated that both were ill at ease and would do him no credit in her eyes, but he could not bring himself to introduce trivial matters at a time so momentous. In order to gather his thoughts, he rose and walked quickly about the room. Then, finding he could not demonstrate any degree of composure in the situation, he came to her and said, “In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

  Darcy watched Elizabeth’s face, looking for the expression of great happiness his words would inspire.. She turned from him and did not speak. He held his hand at the ready to take hers when she turned back. “I assure, you, dearest Miss Bennet, that this is not a matter to which I have given no thought. I believe the entire time I have been here at Rosings I have thought of little else but my desire to make you my wife.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “I pray you, do not speak to me in this manner.”

  “You will appreciate the difficulty I have had to come to this moment,” said Darcy. “We are from different backgrounds. You are, my dearest Miss Bennet, the daughter of a family with no renown, no fortune. I have been expected to marry someone who stands on a more equal footing with me. However, I have convinced myself that none of your inferior connections or fortune is of importance. The degradation of my reputation is of no matter. I will have you as my wife and let people think what they wish.”

  Elizabeth turned her gaze full upon him. He understood that as a modest young woman she could not easily speak of her gratitude, but he expected to find an indication of it on her face. His hand reached for hers, but she withdrew from him, even to the point of moving her chair back some inches. “I am sorry, s
ir, to cause anyone pain, but while I thank you most heartily for your offer, I must decline it.”

  These words were so unlike the ones Darcy had expected that he was unable to comprehend their meaning. “I will provide you with your own carriage, accounts at all the best warehouses, and Pemberly. You will be mistress of Pemberly.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “I desire none of these things. I repeat that I must decline your offer.”

  “Decline?” said Darcy. “You are saying you will not marry me?”

  “That is what I am saying, Mr. Darcy. I am sorry to cause you pain, but that is my answer.”

  Darcy rose from his chair and resumed pacing the room. When he returned to where she sat he had regained the semblance of composure. “And this is the reply to which I am to have the honour of expecting? I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected.”

  “I might as well enquire” replied Elizabeth, “why with so evident a design of offending me, you chose to tell me that liked me against your will and against your reason. Do not speak to me of incivility.”

  Darcy paused. Perhaps his pride had got the best of him. Perhaps he should have planned his words more carefully. But he had expected her to sympathize with his struggles, even to admire them, and here she seemed to consider herself as the wronged party.

  Continued Elizabeth, “Further, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining the happiness of a most beloved sister?”

  This accusation was so shocking that Darcy did not attempt to respond to it. So Jane Bennet had not been as indifferent to Bingley as he had thought. Elizabeth had guessed that he was involved in the scheming that had divided her sister from Bingley. It was likely she knew that he, Darcy, was the manipulator of all that had come to pass since the family’s hasty exit from Netherfield.

  “Can you deny that you have done that?” asked Elizabeth.