Darcy and the Wrong Miss Bennet

by Jane Grix

  “But how can I when we go to the same parties?”

  Elizabeth didn’t have an answer for that.

  ON THE FINAL DAY OF Mr. Collins’ visit, they were all in the sitting room while Mr. Collins read to them from another book of sermons. Elizabeth was grateful that Mr. Collins seemed to have abandoned his plan of marrying one of his cousins, and Mrs. Bennet, so excited about Lydia’s engagement, did not remind him.

  Elizabeth sat, hemming one of her father’s shirts, when they heard the sound of a carriage coming up the drive.

  Lydia and Mr. Collins hurried to the window to look out. “I wonder who it could be,” Lydia said, just as Mr. Collins said, “It is Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I recognize her crest.”

  “Lady Catherine?” Mrs. Bennet said, flustered. “Why would she come here?”

  “I wrote to her,” Mr. Collins said ominously.

  “Good heavens,” Mrs. Bennet said.

  Within a few minutes, Lady Catherine was announced, and she entered the room. She was a tall woman, richly dressed, with iron grey hair and an imposing countenance. Mr. Collins performed the introductions at her request. “And which of these young ladies is Lydia?” she demanded

  “I am, your ladyship,” Lydia said pertly.

  “I have heard a report of the most alarming nature, that you are engaged to my nephew Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  Lydia beamed. “I am.”

  “How did that come about?”

  At this, Mrs. Bennet answered, “In the usual way, my lady. They were at a ball.”

  Lady Catherine scowled. “I don’t approve of balls if they result in misalliances.”

  Mrs. Bennet bristled. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Lady Catherine drew herself up. “I am well-known for my forthrightness and I will speak plainly. Mr. Darcy is a man of fortune with a respectable, honourable ancestry. He should not marry an upstart without family or connections.” She turned to Lydia. “If you were sensible, you would not want to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”

  Mrs. Bennet said, “Lydia is a gentleman’s daughter.”

  Lady Catherine turned on her. “Yes, but who are you, ma’am? And who are her aunts and uncles? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition.”

  Mrs. Bennet glared at Mr. Collins, who must have been the source of her information. He looked away guiltily.

  Lady Catherine continued. “I believe your daughter has drawn him in with her arts and allurements. In a moment of infatuation, he has forgotten what he owes to himself and to all his family.”

  Lydia said, “I did not!” just as Mrs. Bennet said hotly, “I beg your pardon!”

  Lady Catherine was not deterred. She said, “Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”

  “That would be bigamy,” Mary said.

  “Hush, Mary,” Mrs. Bennet said.

  “Unless he were a Mohammedan, and then he could have four wives.”

  Lady Catherine sputtered. “Mr. Darcy is not a Mohammedan!”

  Elizabeth tried not to smile. This conversation was rapidly deteriorating.

  Mrs. Bennet said, “If Mr. Darcy is engaged to your daughter, he would not have made an offer to my daughter.”

  Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment and then replied, “The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of his mother, as well as mine. While in their cradles, we planned the union. And now, when they are of age, I will not let their marriage be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth with no fortune.”

  “Ha!” Mrs. Bennet said. “Your daughter has no legal rights unless Mr. Darcy has made her a promise himself. We do not live in the Middle Ages, when parents could force their children to marry.”

  “And you are mistaken. I have a dowry,” Lydia argued. “It is one thousand pounds.”

  Lady Catherine said, “That is nothing. I spend more than that on my shoes.”

  This strange comment made all of them look at Lady Catherine’s shoes.

  Lydia said, “Then you are overpaying, for they are quite ugly.”

  Lady Catherine said, “Enough of your impertinence. I am here to let you know what will happen if you persist in your presumptions. If you marry Mr. Darcy, you will be censured, slighted and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace. Your name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”

  “Pooh,” Lydia said. “I don’t care.”

  Elizabeth admired her bravery.

  Lady Catherine said, “I have never been so insulted in my life. You may know that I am not accustomed to being disappointed.”

  Mr. Collins spoke up, saying, “If I may, I might suggest a solution.”

  “Go ahead,” Lady Catherine said.

  Mr. Collins got down on one knee and held out his hand to Lydia. “Cousin Lydia,” he began solemnly. “If you wish, I will marry you and then Mr. Darcy can marry his cousin Miss de Bourgh.”

  Lydia made a disgusted face and Mrs. Bennet said, “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would she take you when she has Mr. Darcy?”

  Mr. Collins looked confused, and Elizabeth said, “You are all talking in circles. There is no solution here.”

  Mr. Collins struggled to his feet as Lady Catherine said to Lydia, “Do you refuse to oblige me?”

  “I do.”

  She said to Mrs. Bennet, “I blame you in this. Your daughter would not be so obstinate and headstrong if you had trained her properly.”

  “Pooh,” Mrs. Bennet said, echoing her daughter.

  Lady Catherine said, “I am by no means finished. I will know how to act. Mr. Darcy will never marry your daughter.”

  At this, Mr. Bennet came into the sitting room. “What is all this fuss? I cannot read for all the noise you are making.”

  “I assume this is Mr. Bennet,” Lady Catherine said.

  “I am, and who are you, ma’am?”

  “I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh!”

  “Ah, the great lady herself. And are you here to meet your nephew’s fiancée?”

  At this, Lady Catherine threw up her hands and stormed out of the room. “Come, Mr. Collins,” she said angrily. “I do not want you to spend another night in this house of vipers.”

  Mr. Collins said, “But I thought you wanted me to take a wife and I planned to marry one of my cousins.”

  “If you marry a Bennet, I will throw you out of the Parsonage.”

  Mr. Collins was quick to obey. He bowed to Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Bennet. “Please excuse my hasty leaving.”

  “Mr. Collins!” Lady Catherine bellowed and he quickly followed after her.

  Within a few minutes, Lady Catherine’s carriage pulled away from the house.

  “Good heavens,” Mrs. Bennet said weakly as she sat on a couch. “What ever shall we do with Mr. Collins’ clothes?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The next day, Mrs. Bennet spoke to Elizabeth. “I am worried about what Lady Catherine may say to her nephew. That she will convince him not to marry Lydia.”

  “That is a possibility,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Darcy is a proud man.”

  Mrs. Bennet said, “And if he doesn’t marry Lydia, what will happen to us? Mr. Bingley has gone to London, we don’t know when he will return, and now Mr. Collins won’t marry any of you, either.”

  But, to Mr. Collin’s credit, he had offered for Lydia, Elizabeth thought.

  Mrs. Bennet said, “I am thinking of writing and asking my brother not to come for Christmas this year.”

  “But why?” The Gardiners came to Longbourn for Christmas every year.

  “I think that it would best for us to go to Pemberley for Christmas to remind Mr. Darcy that he has a fiancée.”

  Elizabeth thought it unlikely that he had forgotten Lydia. She asked, “Has Mr. Darcy invited us?”

  “No.”


  Elizabeth said, “Then I think we should stay home.” She did not think he would welcome them if they suddenly arrived on his doorstep.

  Mrs. Bennet sighed. “That is what your father says.”

  “Then why are you asking me what I think?”

  “You are your father’s favourite. I hoped that if you spoke to him that he might change his mind.”

  Elizabeth said, “I think we should be patient.”

  “And wait for him to break the engagement?”

  Elizabeth said, “I fear that arriving without an invitation could also make him break the engagement.”

  Mrs. Bennet nodded. “Perhaps you are right. I will have to think on it.”

  Over the next few weeks, Elizabeth thought on the matter as well. It was difficult to hear Lydia boast about Mr. Darcy at every social gathering, accepting everyone’s compliments and good wishes. Elizabeth thought it ironic that all of Meryton who had thought Mr. Darcy proud and disagreeable when he was single, were now willing to think of him as the best of men since he was engaged to her sister.

  But Elizabeth wondered what they said about him behind closed doors.

  In the end, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner came to Longbourn for Christmas as originally planned. Mr. Bennet never minded their visits, for Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, agreeable man, and his wife was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman. Mrs. Bennet had much to tell them – first that Lydia was now engaged to Mr. Darcy – and second, that Jane had been admired by Mr. Darcy’s friend Mr. Bingley. “We thought he would propose, but he left for London and hasn’t returned. But I have not given up hope just yet. For with Lydia marrying his closest friend, Jane is sure to be much in company with Mr. Bingley again. I hope to see her married by next summer, or possibly at a double wedding with Mr. Darcy and Lydia in the autumn.”

  Mrs. Gardiner knew a little of Darcy’s family, for she had spent much of her youth at Lambton, a small town near Pemberley. When she mentioned that she had seen that great estate, Mrs. Bennet and Lydia asked her dozens of questions and were satisfied with the answers.

  Later, when Mrs. Gardiner was alone with Elizabeth, she asked her about Bingley. “Do you think he truly liked your sister, or was that just your mother’s wishful thinking?”

  “No, he liked her,” Elizabeth answered. “I overheard him say that he loved her, but then Mr. Darcy discouraged him, advising against marrying into our vulgar family and telling him that Jane did not love him.”

  Mrs. Gardiner was surprised. “Poor Jane. That was badly done on Mr. Darcy’s part, but since he is now engaged to marry Lydia, he must have changed his mind about your family.”

  “Must he?” Elizabeth asked. “Personally, I think he thinks of us just as he did before – that is why he has left Hertfordshire.”

  “Has he written to Lydia?”

  “Not a word.”

  “And he plans to marry her next year?”

  “He agreed to a year-long engagement, but I think he is trying to avoid the inevitable.”

  Mrs. Gardiner nodded thoughtfully. “You don’t think he loves Lydia?”

  Elizabeth shook her head but did not verbally elaborate.

  “If he does not love her, why did he propose?”

  Elizabeth hesitated, not wanting to share Lydia’s secret, but something must have shown on her face, for Mrs. Gardiner said, “Oh no. Had he meant to ask you instead?”

  Elizabeth nodded. It was a relief finally to tell someone. She hadn’t even shared the facts with Jane. Jane, who thought it odd that Mr. Darcy had fallen for Lydia, but had said, “I suppose we shall never know why two people fall in love.”

  “Oh, Lizzy, how terrible,” Mrs. Gardiners said. “Did you love Mr. Darcy?”

  “No,” Elizabeth said. “I did not. I didn’t even know he liked me. He was always frowning at me and I thought he disapproved of me entirely. That is what is so strange about it. I didn’t like him at all – I even hated him for what he’d said to Bingley – but now that he is engaged to Lydia, I think about him all the time.”

  Mrs. Gardiner said, “That is not wise.”

  “I agree, but how do I stop myself?” She often wondered if it had been a mistake not to wear a necklace the night of the Netherfield Ball. If she had, would he have noticed the difference between her and Lydia?

  “You are a sensible girl. Do not waste time thinking about what might have been.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “You are right. I shall try to do better.”

  DARCY TOOK GEORGIANA and her companion Mrs. Annesley to Pemberley for Christmas. They dined with some of their neighbours, but the season was relatively quiet for Darcy was in no mood for company.

  He was engaged to Lydia Bennet and he did not know how he was going to keep from marrying her.

  Every day he relived those moments at Netherfield Ball, cursing himself for not seeing the difference between her and Elizabeth.

  He had mistakenly thought that Lydia was dancing with the officer. And when Lydia smiled at him so winningly, he had believed what he wanted to believe – that it was Elizabeth who liked him.

  Elizabeth who wanted to go with him into` the garden.

  He should have known better.

  And now it was too late. Elizabeth was lost to him forever. Even if he could extricate himself from Lydia, it would be a scandal to go from one sister to the next.

  During this time, he received an unexpected visit from Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She declined any offers of refreshment and insisted on speaking with him privately. Judging from her pinched countenance, he anticipated that she was going to give him a lecture, and she did.

  She began harshly: “I never thought that insanity ran in the Darcy family, but I am reconsidering the matter. Heaven knows that your recent actions cannot be blamed on your mother’s side.”

  Although he could guess what had upset her, Darcy said, “To which actions do you refer?”

  “Your own heart, your own conscience must tell you why I am here.”

  “Actually, I am at a loss. I planned to visit Rosings at Easter with Colonel Fitzwilliam and I did not anticipate seeing you earlier. I know how greatly you dislike travelling, especially during the winter.”

  “Do not trifle with me, Fitzwilliam. You know I would brave a blizzard if I could prevent you from ruining your life and bringing scandal and disgrace to the Darcy name.”

  “Ah. You must be referring to my engagement to Miss Lydia Bennet.”

  She said, “I could not believe it when Mr. Collins wrote to me. I thought surely that he was mistaken, but when I went to Hertfordshire, I learned that it was common knowledge.”

  Darcy could well imagine the scene. “Did you call on the Bennets?”

  “I did. I met the young woman and her mother. I will not call either of them ladies, for that would be a misnomer. Mrs. Bennet is vulgar and stupid, and her daughter is worse. I can only imagine that you must have been inebriated at the time.”

  Darcy knew he had no such convenient excuse. “My state of mind is irrelevant because I am engaged to her.”

  “And you cannot buy them off?”

  Darcy leaned forward. “Tell me, what do you think would be an appropriate recompense for jilting her when my income is more than ten thousand a year?”

  Lady Catherine shrugged. “I am not a solicitor, but there must be some way to extricate yourself.”

  He was reminded of Mr. Bennet’s response. “Actually, there is not.” His only hope now was to delay the ceremony and pray that Lydia had a change of heart.

  Lady Catherine said, “I have a solution. You will marry Anne and Mr. Collins will adjust the wedding date so it appears that you were married before you proposed to that upstart.”

  “Do you think Mr. Collins would falsify the documents?”

  “He will do whatever I tell him.”

  Darcy knew that Mr. Collins was a spineless sycophant, but he had not expected his aunt to be so Machiavellian. He said, “No, thank you. As much as I appreciate the magni
tude of your offer, I must decline. My engagement stands.”

  Lady Catherine said, “What about Anne? You know she expects to marry you.”

  “She does not,” Darcy countered. “We discussed it years ago. Neither of us wishes to wed the other.”

  “Then you are determined to ruin yourself?”

  “Apparently,” Darcy said dryly. He knew he could never explain to his aunt the meaning of honour and the necessity of paying for one’s mistakes.

  Lady Catherine rose to her feet. “Then I wash my hands of you!” she said shrilly. “I take no leave of you, Fitzwilliam. I send no compliments to your sister. Do not bother to come to Rosings at Easter for if you do, you will be turned aside. I am most seriously displeased!”

  Darcy watched her leave thinking that his engagement had one advantage – he would not have to go to Rosings that year.

  At dinner, Georgiana mentioned that she had seen Lady Catherine’s carriage.

  Darcy sipped his wine. “She came, but then she left.”

  “Did she not wish to stay?”

  “No.”

  “I wonder why she came. Was it only to wish you a Happy Christmas?”

  Darcy did not want to explain himself, so he prevaricated. “She was travelling through the area.”

  “How strange,” Georgiana said, “But then, Aunt Catherine has always been a little strange.”

  “Indeed,” Darcy said.

  Later that evening, Georgiana asked if he was feeling poorly.

  He looked up from the cards in his hand and smiled at his sister. “No. Merely tired.” It was after supper, and they were playing a game before retiring. Mrs. Annesley had already gone to bed.

  Georgiana set her cards down on the table. “Then we can play another time.”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t mind playing.” Cards gave him something to do with his hands and kept his mind occupied.

  He remembered Elizabeth joking with him about cards.

  “There it is,” Georgiana said. “You look pained. Sad.”