Courting Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Renata McMann

  “Mrs. Kent? Of course not. I wouldn’t mind marrying a widow, but she hasn’t exactly kept to herself since she was widowed. Not to mention the issue of an heir. If she could have children, she would have had one by now.” Bingley leaned forward in his chair. “To be frank, she’s been hinting about marriage. That’s why I’m so eager to leave London. Actually, I’m setting out in a few hours. I’ll leave it to the rest of you to catch up.”

  “If not Mrs. Kent, then who do you have in mind?” Was Bingley running from London or toward Hertfordshire? “Miss Bennet?”

  “What? Were you not listening? Her family is horrid, and she’s too biddable.” Bingley’s eyes narrowed. “Has Miss Elizabeth said something, then? Truly, I’m sorry if I raised Miss Bennet’s expectations, but our acquaintance lasted less than two months. After so long an absence, she must realize I’m no longer interested. Surely she took the hint when I didn’t call on her here in London.”

  “You knew she was in London?”

  “Did you?” Bingley asked.

  Darcy nodded.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t mention it, but it doesn’t signify.” Bingley shrugged again. “I didn’t bring it up because I was content to let Caroline think she was keeping it from me. It calms her machinations if she thinks she’s controlling me, and I didn’t actually have any desire to see Miss Bennet. I didn’t fancy calling and trying to make it clear I still liked her, but wasn’t interested in her.”

  “That would be a difficult line to draw,” Darcy admitted, surprised Bingley had fooled them all into thinking he’d been unaware of Miss Bennet’s presence in town.

  “I didn’t want to botch it up and leave her with reignited hope. Miss Bennet’s a sweet girl, who deserves a good husband. Just not me.” Bingley shook his head. “No, I’m not remaining in London to marry Mrs. Kent, or returning to Hertfordshire to court Miss Bennet, but I know myself. I risk marrying the next attractive woman I stumble across. It could be a widow with the morals of a cat or a country miss who is studying to be a saint. Neither would really suit me.”

  A sudden suspicion of why Bingley was there filled Darcy. “I don’t believe you would be a good husband for Georgiana.”

  Bingley waved that off with a gesture. “Don’t worry, that’s not why I’m here. Your sister wouldn’t suit me. She wouldn’t contradict me. Her dowry is attractive, she has the right connections and she’s a nice girl, but that’s all.” Bingley sighed, leaning back in his chair. “They’re all nice girls. Almost everyone I meet is nice, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I know what I want in a wife.”

  “What?” Darcy asked, though his eyes strayed to the clock again.

  “She needn’t be a beauty or accomplished. I don’t care if my wife can draw. I can buy drawings. I can live without music, but if I couldn’t, I would hire a musician. I can hire a housekeeper, too. What I can’t live without are children. I also want someone acceptable to the friends I have. You, for example, and my sisters. I know they can be tiresome at times, but they’re my family and my wife will have to associate with them. Her manners will have to be good. There is no reason for me to marry down. I’ve enough money to expect a wife to have something. I would like a country home, but living off the income from one is chancy. Agricultural prices are dropping.”

  “True,” Darcy said. So much so, he was often glad he had a number of varied investments.

  “That means if I buy an estate, I must keep enough capital to generate an income to live on. I should marry someone with at least ten thousand pounds. Twenty would be better.”

  “You’ll have competition.”

  “I know that, but I’ll still have many choices and a decent chance. I believe we’ve already established everyone finds me amiable, including women.”

  Darcy nodded.

  “You should also know I’ve given my fidelity serious consideration. I think if I married someone, I would stay loyal. It’s the knowledge there’s no commitment that makes me so fickle, and their absence that makes me forget them. I wouldn’t absent myself from my wife.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Darcy asked, worried Bingley’s earlier dismissal of Georgiana as an option had been a ruse.

  “Because, when the time comes, I want your honest advice about my choice.” Bingley eyed him for a long moment. “Also, I want you to know I’m serious about marrying now. It’s occurred to me that my past inconsistency may, at some point, spur you to feel honor bound to separate me from a woman who actually is worthy of being my wife. I know how keen your honor is, and value that in you, but I don’t want it to come between me and a good match.”

  Darcy contemplated that. He wouldn’t have seen it if Bingley hadn’t brought it up, but it was true. If Bingley had approached, say, Georgiana, Darcy would possibly have warned him off, worried his friend would break his sister’s heart as he had Miss Bennet’s. That, he realized, was Elizabeth’s doing. She’d introduced him to the other side of Bingley’s fickle affection. In the past, Darcy had only considered his friend’s interests. How Bingley had sensed the change, Darcy didn’t know, but Bingley was always intuitive. “I see,” he finally said. “Your commitment to a wife and marriage is duly noted.”

  Bingley stood, nodding. “Thank you. I look forward to seeing you in Hertfordshire. Caroline and I will already be there, so arrive whenever you like.”

  “Have a safe journey.”

  Bingley nodded, his amiable smile back in place. With a bow, he departed, leaving Darcy in no mood for correspondence as he tried to wend his way back through their conversation. He’d always considered himself a fine judge of character, but lately it seemed that had only been a prideful delusion.

  Bingley wasn’t who Darcy had thought he was. Darcy had fallen for Bingley’s amiability, not looking too deeply at the man beneath. Not that there seemed to be anything terrible about that man. He was just more practical and jaded than Darcy would have guessed. He’d also, based on Richard’s recounting of her reaction to seeing Bingley with another woman, misjudged Miss Bennet. Even Anne was surprising Darcy, seeming capable of negotiating the social rounds without her mother, something he hadn’t suspected was possible.

  Then there was Elizabeth, whom he’d misjudged completely, and disastrously, when he’d assumed she would accept his offer of marriage. That, however, he would mend. By the time his two months were up, he would prove to her that her answer shouldn’t be no.

  HERTFORDSHIRE

  “She is a sweet girl, and if weren’t for her awful family, she should make a good marriage, to someone of her own class.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elizabeth sat beside Jane in Mr. Darcy’s carriage. He was across from her, with Miss de Bourgh. In a perfect position to watch him during the journey to Longbourn, Elizabeth couldn’t help spend much of the trip admiring how well turned out he was. Of course, he always cut a dashing figure. His tailor was obviously very expensive.

  She smiled as she contemplated the reactions her most recent letters home must have invoked. Making it out as a perfectly normal occurrence, she’d explained that she had left Kent in the company of Miss de Bourgh, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy, adding that Miss de Bourgh was staying at the Gardiners with her and Jane. She’d written again after the party at Lady Agatha’s, describing the event in great detail, while leaving out almost everything of relevance. Shortly thereafter, once the arrangements for the trip had been finalized, she’d been obliged to send a third letter from London. That one had informed her family Mr. Bingley had left London for Netherfield and she and Jane would be returning to Longbourn, brought thither by Mr. Darcy and in the company of Miss de Bourgh.

  “There is something I wish to discuss before we reach your home,” Miss de Bourgh said, breaking into the lull in conversation that had held the interior of the carriage in silence for the past several miles. “I realize it will be more difficult for you in Hertfordshire, Miss Elizabeth, but we must adhere to the plan of you permitting Mr. Darcy to co
urt you. No place is safe from my mother’s spies.”

  “It will not be difficult for me,” Mr. Darcy said.

  “Nor for me.” Elizabeth considered bringing up the money, but she felt it was crass. She also hadn’t spoken about it to Jane, and didn’t care to.

  “Then we are agreed.” Miss de Bourgh looked pleased.

  “I do worry we still haven’t found a good solution, though,” Elizabeth said. “I know you will have control of Rosings soon, and that we’ve bought time with our subterfuge, but Lady Catherine still holds her card. She can still ruin Miss Darcy.”

  “How could anyone think to ruin that sweet child?” Jane said, shaking her head.

  Elizabeth glanced at her. When Jane and Georgiana had met, late in the day at Lady Agatha’s party, her sister had seemed too distraught to take any real note. “You have not had the pleasure of making Lady Catherine’s acquaintance. She is formidable.”

  Jane shook her head again, her expression full of sorrow for the inexplicable unfairness in the world.

  “As I said, once I possess Rosings, I will threaten my mother with expulsion if she attempts to defame Georgiana.”

  Elizabeth nodded, deciding to let the matter drop, but she wasn’t sure in their plan. Miss Darcy’s reputation wouldn’t be safe until either Miss de Bourgh or Mr. Darcy married, forever ending the possibility of their union. That cause wouldn’t be furthered by them journeying to Hertfordshire, she realized. Who would either find to marry there?

  The conversation lulled again and Elizabeth turned to the window. She peered out, her smile returning as she took in the familiarity of the passing fields. They were almost to Longbourn. She’d been away for two months, admittedly only half as long as Jane, yet still she was anxious for the familiar and to see her family. Even her mother.

  “You’re eager to be home, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy’s rich voice reached out to her from across the carriage.

  “I am. I enjoyed Kent, for the most part, and have no dislike of London, but I find I miss the country air.”

  “And Mama and Papa,” Jane said, giving Elizabeth a reprimanding look.

  “Of course. I miss all of those with whom I’ve a lifetime of daily familiarity, right down to the staff, the hounds and even Papa’s prize sow.”

  “Lizzy, you aren’t comparing our family and the servants to a pig?”

  “Of course not. There can be no similarity between lovely people like Mrs. Hill or Father and livestock.” She deliberately didn’t include her mother and younger sisters in her rejoinder.

  Jane shook her head, laughing. “Oh Lizzy. Your sharp tongue will someday get the better of you.”

  Elizabeth contained a grimace, thinking perhaps it already had, when she’d belittled Mr. Darcy following his proposal.

  “You have three other sisters, I believe I recall?” Miss de Bourgh asked, looking from Elizabeth to Jane.

  “We have one sister and two hoydens who reside in our home,” Elizabeth said.

  “Lizzy.” Jane’s tone was pleading.

  “But perhaps they have learned better manners in our absence,” Elizabeth added, to mollify Jane.

  “I shall be delighted to meet them.” Miss de Bourgh turned to address Mr. Darcy, seated beside her. “I’m sure being related to Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, they can be nothing but lovely and kind?”

  Elizabeth could have laughed. She turned a broad smile on Mr. Darcy, awaiting his answer.

  “The younger two are quite pretty, especially the very youngest, and very friendly. The middle daughter is exceedingly diligent in honing her accomplishments,” he said.

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, impressed.

  “I see we’ve arrived.” Mr. Darcy’s tone was touched with relief.

  Elizabeth realized the carriage was turning. Looking back out the window, she took in the familiar scenery lining the short drive leading from the road to Longbourn. “Will you come in? I’m sure they’d be pleased to see you.”

  “I’d rather not,” Miss de Bourgh answered. “I would prefer to meet your family some other time than at the end of a long journey.”

  “Of course, and know you are always welcome.” Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy, feeling oddly shy. “Both of you.”

  “Thank you again for bringing us home,” Jane said. “It was most considerate of you. Please give my regards to your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was exceedingly solicitous of me at Lady Agatha’s party but I was, at the time, too . . .” She colored slightly, looking bereft.

  “Indisposed,” Elizabeth supplied.

  “Yes, thank you.” Jane nodded. “I was too indisposed to properly thank him, and I haven’t seen him since that evening. I feel I owe him both thanks and an apology.”

  “I’m sure he will accept neither, and thank you for both,” Miss be Bourgh said.

  “Knowing the way Henry drives, I expect he and Richard are already at Netherfield, though they departed later than we did,” Mr. Darcy said. “I’m also certain we’ll all call on you soon.”

  The carriage drew to a halt and farewells were exchanged while Elizabeth and Jane disembarked. Their trunks were lowered from Mr. Darcy’s smaller carriage and then the two carriages lumbered away. Elizabeth turned to find her mother and her sisters, Mary, Kitty and Lydia, piled into the doorway, watching. Mrs. Bennet hurried forward.

  “Jane, Elizabeth, how pleasant to have you home.” Their mother held her arms out wide, but made no actual attempt to embrace them. Nor did they go to her, knowing the gesture was for dramatic affect only. “Was that Mr. Darcy’s carriage? Why did you not invite him in?”

  Elizabeth, bemused, wondered at her mother’s change of heart toward Mr. Darcy. Did a ride from London count for so much?

  “What a splendid carriage,” Lydia said.

  “I prefer Mr. Bingley’s,” Kitty answered.

  Making shooing noises, Mrs. Bennet turned, using her still outstretched arms to usher everyone inside and toward the parlor.

  “We did invite him in, Mama,” Jane said as they all made their way down the hall.

  “Not convincingly enough, obviously.” Mrs. Bennet sounded aggrieved.

  Spotting her father seated in his favorite chair, Elizabeth hurried over to drop a kiss on his brow. “Papa.”

  “Lizzy, Jane, at last some semblance of reason has returned to our home.”

  “Mr. Bennet, you are the unreasonable one, and now Elizabeth and Jane have let Mr. Darcy get away.”

  “But you don’t even like Mr. Darcy, Mama,” Mary said.

  “It isn’t Mr. Darcy I want, of course, but I need him to pass along an invitation to Mr. Bingley, to dine here. Since you two let him get away, I must return to persuading your father to visit Mr. Bingley and issue the invitation.”

  “I have no intention of doing so. He knows where to find me, and my two eldest daughters deserve some attention, since they just arrived after months of absence.”

  “Jane was gone for more than four months, and I can understand you missing her,” Mrs. Bennet said. “But Lizzy was not even gone two, so you didn’t have time to miss her. It won’t take you very long to visit Mr. Bingley. You will be able to spend plenty of time with Jane.”

  Elizabeth and her father exchanged an amused glance.

  “I’m sure Mr. Darcy will return soon enough,” Jane said, arching a brow at Elizabeth.

  “Maybe Mr. Bingley will throw another ball.” Lydia’s voice was dreamy.

  Elizabeth looked about the parlor, finding it felt slightly odd to be home after so long away. Everything was as she’d left it, including the people. She didn’t know why she’d thought two months would change anything in Longbourn, except that she was different now. She hadn’t realized how much so until she stood among them again.

  “Why should Mr. Darcy return here?” Kitty wrinkled her nose. “No one likes him.”

  “Jane, tell your father he must go invite Mr. Bingley to dinner,” Mrs. Bennet cried.

  “I am going to my room to was
h up.” Jane crossed to their father, gave him a kiss, and hurried away.

  “Did she not hear me mention Mr. Bingley?” Mrs. Bennet said, looking after Jane.

  “We all did, my dear. Even the neighbors,” Mr. Bennet muttered, raising his paper before his face.

  Elizabeth wondered if her home had always been so chaotic. Looking back, she thought it must be the case. She, however, was no longer accustomed to it.

  “Don’t you understand?” Mrs. Bennet wailed. “It isn’t just Mr. Bingley. I’ve heard there’s a large party with several eligible gentlemen. You must visit them.”

  “Oh, Lizzy, are there eligible gentlemen? Do you know? Weren’t you with them in London?” Lydia asked.

  “She said as much in her letter,” Mary said, her tone condescending. “You’ve no head on your shoulders, Lydia.”

  “I do so, and a very pretty one,” Lydia tossed her curls, “unlike some people.”

  “Miss de Bourgh was with us in London,” Elizabeth temporized. “Her cousins, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, dined with us at the Gardiners. We also attended her cousin Lady Agatha’s party in their company, as you already know from my letter. It was while there we encountered another of their cousins, the Earl of Matlock, and Mr. Bingley, Miss Bingley and the Hursts, inspiring a return to Hertfordshire.”

  “Which must mean Mr. Bingley intends to offer for Jane at last.” Mrs. Bennet sounded pleased.

  “A colonel,” Lydia said. She whispered something in Kitty’s ear. Both girls giggled.

  “I wouldn’t put too much hope in Mr. Bingley, Mother.” Elizabeth said it out of a duty to Jane. She knew her mouther wouldn’t listen.

  “And an earl, of all things,” Mrs. Bennet said. She looked at each of her daughters speculatively, finally settling her gaze on Lydia. “Yes, an earl.”