“Truly, I am well,” Elizabeth repeated. “I do have a boon to ask, though.” She looked to her aunt and uncle. “Can you spare room for Miss de Bourgh and myself?”
“Yes, of course we can,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “You are always welcome here, Elizabeth, and we’d be honored for Miss de Bourgh to be our guest.” She turned her warm expression on Darcy, then Richard. “And we would also be honored if you would both stay for dinner.”
Dinner was accepted and arrangements made for the ladies’ luggage and room, and for Darcy’s carriage. Mr. Gardiner suggested the gentlemen retire to his study. Mrs. Gardiner excused herself to see to the children, who would be eating before the adults. Elizabeth followed her aunt, saying her cousins would be upset if she didn’t greet them. Anne turned to Miss Bennet and expressed an interest in seeing the children as well. Darcy watched his cousin follow Miss Bennet out with some surprise. He couldn’t remember Anne ever spending any time with children.
As they dispersed, Darcy realized he no longer had any qualms about leaving Anne with the Gardiners. Yes, she would have to share a room, something she’d never had to do before. They may not have a home as grand as Anne or he were accustomed to, but the Gardiners seemed intelligent, kind and well-mannered. Remaining would be a bit of an adventure for his cousin, but Darcy rather thought it might do Anne some good.
No, there was no reason to quibble over the arrangements for Anne. Nor was there anything disagreeable about adjourning to Mr. Gardiner’s office with him and Richard, the two of whom struck up a conversation on fishing even as they headed down the hall. Glancing back, Darcy caught a glimpse of Elizabeth’s skirt as she went around a corner, following Mrs. Gardiner. The only disagreeable thing was that, for the first time since entering the carriage earlier that day, he was being parted from the woman he was courting.
Chapter Nine
After a few minutes with the Gardiner children, where Miss de Bourgh stayed in the background, Elizabeth, Jane and Miss de Bourgh retired to the room they were to share. It would be cramped, with three, but Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle didn’t have an excessively large home. Elizabeth watched Miss de Bourgh’s reaction carefully as they stepped inside. She caught the surprise, but Miss de Bourgh was thoughtful enough to quickly cloak it in a smile.
“What a lovely room,” she said.
In truth, it was. It was a bigger room than the one Elizabeth shared with Jane at Longbourn. It also had two beds. It was airy and done in light colors, without any garish or heavy-handed decorations to antagonize sensibilities.
As they unpacked, it soon became clear the wardrobe was a snug fit, though they were already dressed and left out what they would wear to dinner. Elizabeth carefully kept some of her things back, leaving them inside her trunk. As they worked, they agreed Miss de Bourgh would take the bed away from the window, while Elizabeth and Jane would share the other, which was larger. By how clumsily she went about it, it was readily apparent Miss de Bourgh had never unpacked for herself before.
Once everything was settled and they turned to readying for dinner, it became apparent she also hadn’t ever dressed without a maid. Taking pains to alleviate Miss de Bourgh’s obvious awkwardness, Elizabeth assisted her with her dress. Jane offered to do both Elizabeth’s and Miss de Bourgh’s hair, and both sister’s made a point of helping each other with many small things, to convey what a natural state of affairs it was. Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel charitable toward Miss de Bourgh, who’d lost her own sister and been encased alone in a house with Lady Catherine.
Dinner was a pleasant affair. Mr. Darcy actually spoke, seeming genuinely at ease with her aunt, uncle and Jane. Miss de Bourgh was as quiet as usual, but she took in everything with wide eyes. Colonel Fitzwilliam, seated beside Jane, was at his most charming. Elizabeth had the impression her sister was in no small amount responsible for that, but Jane seemed oblivious to the compliment.
As the evening progressed, Elizabeth realized she enjoyed having Mr. Darcy and his cousins meet those members of her family whose manners didn’t cause her to blush. Though his frankness still rankled, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the truth in much of what Mr. Darcy had said about her mother and younger sisters. The thought came without bitterness, and she realized she’d forgiven that portion of his letter. When the evening drew to a close and the time came for Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam to leave, Elizabeth was sorry. She couldn’t recall a more amiable evening.
After the gentlemen departed, Miss de Bourgh stirred. “I do not mean to end a lovely occasion, but I must admit to being terribly tired.”
“It’s no wonder, of course, after the day you’ve had,” Elizabeth’s aunt said, her expression kind.
Miss de Bourgh looked between Elizabeth and Jane, her face questioning.
“I’m tired as well,” Jane said, standing. “Miss de Bourgh, if you’ll be so kind as to help me with my pins and ties, I’d be happy to help you.”
“Thank you.” Miss de Bourgh looked relieved.
Elizabeth realized she’d been embarrassed, not wanting to ask for help in front of everyone. She watched the two leave the room, glad Jane had understood so quickly. Then, Jane was always sensitive to the happiness of others.
“I’m off to peek in on the children and then to bed,” Elizabeth’s aunt said. “Do you require anything, Lizzy?”
“No, thank you.” Elizabeth looked to her uncle. “There was a small matter I hoped to discuss with Uncle Gardiner, if I may?”
“Of course.” Her aunt crossed the room, dropping a motherly kiss on Elizabeth’s brow. “Don’t argue philosophy into the night. Mr. Gardiner always rises early.”
“We won’t, Aunt.”
As Elizabeth’s aunt quit the room, her uncle turned to her, his expression questioning.
Elizabeth looked about, noting servants moving nearby. “May we speak in your office?”
“Certainly, my dear,” Mr. Gardiner said. He led the way there, taking up a seat behind his desk.
Uncle Gardiner’s desk wasn’t as large or imposing as her father’s, but it wasn’t as strewn with books and papers either. The room was smaller as well, with fewer volumes. Nonetheless, it was almost soothing for Elizabeth to take a seat across from her uncle. He was one of the few people in her life she truly looked up to, and it was comforting to be able to place her troubles before him for his advice. He smiled patiently, the brow under his greying hair lined, but not creased with worry, and waited for her to speak.
“There is something Colonel Fitzwilliam left out of his recounting, likely a thing he doesn’t even know, that concerns me directly,” Elizabeth said.
Her uncle’s eyebrows went up, but his calm didn’t waver.
“To entice me to play the part of being courted by Mr. Darcy, Miss de Bourgh offered me five thousand pounds.”
Her Uncle Gardiner’s eyebrows inched higher and, this time, his whole face registered surprise. “That’s a huge amount of money for what you are doing.”
“I know, which is why I declined. Mr. Darcy encouraged me not to make my refusal official, however. It’s on his recommendation that I’m seeking your advice on the matter.”
“Is it?” Her uncle appeared thoughtful. “Then, my advice is that you must accept.”
“I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth hadn’t expected that answer.
He nodded. “Yes, you should definitely accept, but don’t be surprised if she ends up not paying.”
Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to be incredulous. “Miss de Bourgh seemed quite sincere in the offer. Vehement, almost.”
“That was in the moment, I should think.” Her uncle regarded her skepticism with amusement. “You do realize that while she may be legally allowed to give you the money, she may not be. We aren’t privy to the stipulations on her inheritance, which will likely change on the upcoming birthday of hers that Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke of, and will change again if she marries. A husband likely won’t encourage her to keep her word to you. No one who has her inte
rests at heart would encourage her to do so, in spite of whatever she promised you. Even if she put it in writing.”
“She didn’t.” Although Elizabeth hadn’t been inclined to accept the money, it disturbed her to think Miss de Bourgh’s offer might not have been made in good faith.
“As she didn’t put it in writing, you likely won’t have a decision to make,” Mr. Gardiner said. “If she does reissue the offer, you must carefully consider that five thousand pounds is enough to make a huge difference to you.” He fell silent, contemplating her across the polished wood of his desk. Finally, he nodded, as if making up his mind about something. He leaned forward, his hands resting on the smooth wood between them. “It pains me to speak of it, but your father is not the most careful when it comes to his finances, and my sister is impossible in that regard. I worry for you and your sisters. As long as I am alive and reasonably solvent, you will not starve, but you are likely to outlive me.”
Elizabeth was surprised to see an apologetic look overtake her uncle’s face. Her instinct was to reassure him, but she didn’t know the source of the emotion.
“You must understand, dear Lizzy, that my first priority must be to my wife and my own children.”
“Of course it must,” Elizabeth assured him, both surprised and touched his guilt stemmed from feeling the need to make that declaration. “We won’t be completely destitute, though. We have the money settled on my mother. Surely, we’ll make do without me compromising my integrity by accepting Miss de Bourgh’s money.” She was aware her voice had taken on a firm edge.
Her uncle shook his head. “Your mother’s money won’t be enough. If you, your sisters, and your mother live on the interest of five thousand pounds, you will feel the lack of money every day. You will be living mainly on porridge and the occasional cheap cut of meat. In the winter, you will wear many layers of clothes, because sufficient firewood will be beyond your reach. Every garment you own will have at least a dozen mends and your shoes will have holes in them. You will end up selling your father’s books to feed yourselves. You’ll lose that connection to him, and your minds will suffer.” His tone had become almost pleading. “Very rarely, you’ll get to read something borrowed from a friend. Even then, your reading must be by daylight, as you won’t be able to afford enough candles. There will be no more pianoforte or needlepoint, and no carriage. You won’t be able to pay to send letters, nor afford the paper and ink to write them.”
Elizabeth stared at him, shocked at the picture he painted.
“Worse than all of this, what will happen if your mother and sisters learn their impoverished state could have been alleviated by the simple acceptance of money offered? If that were to happen, they would be rightfully angry with you.”
“I hadn’t considered that,” she murmured, still dazed by her uncle’s description of what it would be to be so poor. Elizabeth knew her family’s wealth wasn’t on par with Miss de Bourgh’s or Mr. Darcy’s, but she’d hadn’t realized how low they could sink, especially once Mr. Collins took Longbourn from them. She’d always pictured them moving into a sunny little cottage, perhaps being forced to garden more and raise more of their own livestock. In her imaginings it was a beatific life; simple, but happy. It was never lacking in books or music, much less firewood and candles.
“I can see I have shocked you. I do not mean to.” Her uncle leaned back, the intensity leaving him. “I only mean to make you aware of the realities of your situation. I had the feeling neither of your parents ever would have.”
“Mother rants often enough about us becoming impoverished,” Elizabeth admitted. “I took it no more seriously than her dozen other sufferings.”
“Nor, likely, does she, but doubling the income could make a huge difference.”
Elizabeth sat for a moment in silence, working her way around the idea. It was difficult to dispel the bleak future her uncle painted for her. She added to it the disdain of those she loved when, eventually, guilt drove her to admit she could have saved them, on more than one occasion. “Mr. Darcy proposed to me.”
“Yes, so Colonel Fitzwilliam said.”
She shook her head. “No, the day before. He proposed to me and I declined. He then wrote me a rather long letter, explaining away many of my reasons for not accepting him. It was that letter that spurred Lady Catherine’s ultimatum. She got a hold of it and read it. It’s also what gave her knowledge of Miss Darcy’s scandal, to use against Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh.”
“I see,” her uncle said. He drummed his fingers on the desk. “That explains some things that puzzled me.”
“What?”
“Why the four of you thought Lady Catherine would believe Mr. Darcy would propose. His courtship must have been noticed by everyone.”
Not by me, Elizabeth thought, but she nodded. She knew Charlotte had seen it, so perhaps others had as well. “What else?”
“Why he was willing to propose to you. If you accepted and he didn’t want to marry you, he would have been in a difficult situation.” Her uncle smiled. “It would appear he is still interested in marrying you.”
“I refused him in such a manner that he can’t possibly still care.” She couldn’t keep a note of consternation from creeping into her voice.
“Lizzy, I can’t believe you would do that unless you were extremely provoked. Why, may I ask, did you decline?”
“He proposed in so insulting a manner.” Elizabeth looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “He said he loved me against his judgement. He said I have no connections, and that my family is vulgar and would embarrass him as relations. I was also angry with him because I’d come to possess the knowledge that he helped separate Jane from Mr. Bingley, thinking Jane didn’t truly love him.” A quick glance showed the surprise on her uncle’s face, which would have given her some vindication, if not for what she needed to impart next. “Added to that, I thought he’d gravely wronged Mr. Wickham, for whom I once held affection.”
“I see,” her uncle repeated. His hand had stilled during her monologue. “And his letter explained away all of this?”
“Some. It certainly set me right on Mr. Wickham, who is every sort of cad.” Elizabeth sighed, feeling her next words were to be, in a way, nearly a betrayal, but she would speak the truth. “His letter did not address his words about our family. I was very angry over them. If I am being forthright, though, I think we both know there is truth in them. Mr. Darcy asked me if I would wish, instead of honesty, that he’d pretended to rejoice in them.”
“Would you?”
“I cannot prefer falsehood over honesty, however harshly spoken.”
“And Jane and Mr. Bingley? I have observed how unhappy she is. I would say she did love him, and very well may still.”
“I cannot agree with his separating them because he felt Jane showed a lack of affection,” Elizabeth said, but none of the old anger rose in her. “He also felt, it seems, that Mr. Bingley’s affections were fleeting. I believe he may be correct in this. While Jane’s winning nature may have spurred true affection in him had their association not been interrupted, he clearly didn’t love her as he ought. Otherwise, he should have tried to see her long ere now.” Elizabeth shrugged. “While I do not like to see Jane so sad, I also wouldn’t care to see her wed to someone who wouldn’t love her as she would love him.”
“Here I think we come to the crux of this proposal of Mr. Darcy’s, for all else would give way before it. Do you love him?”
“I didn’t. I couldn’t. It would be impossible while believing so ill of him.”
Her uncle went back to his silent contemplation.
Elizabeth’s mind returned to the picture of poverty he’d painted. “Should I have accepted Mr. Darcy’s proposal?”
To her relief, her uncle shook his head. “At the time, you thought him a dishonorable man. You were justified in refusing him.”
“But now I see more clearly what my rejection could do to my mother and sisters.”
Her uncle g
rimaced. “I made too great an impression, I see.” He leaned forward in his seat again, his expression earnest. “You were right to decline Mr. Darcy. A husband has a great deal of control over his wife, and an unpleasant husband can make his wife’s life miserable. It would have been wrong of you to sacrifice the rest of your life for your family. You should sacrifice your delicate feelings for them, though.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I understand. If Miss de Bourgh offers me the money again, I shall accept. I don’t believe I can bring myself to demand it, though.”
“A fair compromise.” Her uncle’s expression relaxed into a smile. “And one I will have to take as my answer.”
“In truth, now that we’re here, I can’t see why we would need to carry on with her plan. Lady Catherine isn’t here to witness whether or not Mr. Darcy courts me.”
“I can readily come up with two reasons.”
Elizabeth looked at him attentively.
“One is that what you do here will get back to Lady Catherine, one way or another, and it seems Miss Darcy’s reputation is still at stake. The other is that Miss de Bourgh’s offer still stands.”
“The second seems a poor reason, like making someone pay for new curtains they commissioned weeks ago, before their house burnt down and they no longer need them.”
“Be that as it may, for the sake of you and your sisters, you must endeavor to earn the money Miss de Bourgh offered. Is permitting Mr. Darcy to court you so terrible?”
She shook her head. “No. I can’t say he’s done much in the way of courting so far, but he’s been more pleasant than I would have credited him capable of.”
“Promise me, then, that you will try to pull off Miss de Bourgh’s scheme as well as you’re reasonably able. Don’t give her an excuse not to give you the money.”
Courting Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 9