“Oh no, I am sure I do not,” she protested.
“Is that your kind way of telling me that you would really rather not be dragged along?” Elizabeth led the group back out of the room.
Georgiana’s denials were so incoherent that her soon-to-be sister had to laughingly beg her to stop. “I was only teasing, but I fear you are not accustomed to that yet. I’m surprised your brother hasn’t told you not to mind the things I say—he certainly never does!”
This comment astonished Miss Darcy so much that she did not know what to reply. They came down the stairs just as the gentlemen were emerging from the library, and Mr. Darcy smiled to see his sister and future bride together. He met them at the bottom and took them into the drawing room, one on each arm. Mr. Gardiner rendered the same service to his wife and niece, leaving Mrs. Annesley to follow. That good woman could see that her time of employment with the Darcys would be coming to an end perhaps sooner than she had expected, but she also felt certain that Mr. Darcy would not wish his young wife to take on the full duties of chaperoning his sister immediately—or, perhaps, for some time. He clearly was marrying her to suit no one but himself. Mrs. Annesley smiled. She had the highest opinion of her serious and principled young employer, but both of the Darcys had struck her as rather lonely at times. It had occurred to her over the winter that Mr. Darcy ought to marry, that he had that certain restlessness which characterizes young men who begin to be dissatisfied with their bachelorhood. Although a prominent figure in society, he never seemed happy as such, and she thought that, with the right inducement, he might settle quite contentedly into the life of a country gentleman.
That inducement, in her opinion, was currently on his arm, flashing her large eyes at him and laughing softly. Mr. Darcy watched her with ill-disguised fascination; even as he fell back into conversation with her aunt and uncle, his eyes returned to her again and again. Turning over music at the piano with his sister, she saw his gaze and raised her eyebrow playfully. Observing him closely, Mrs. Annesley saw him shift his stance before ducking his head and focusing on the Gardiners. She smiled to herself again; yes, he was very much in love.
On Saturday Darcy broke the news of his engagement to his cousin, the Colonel Fitzwilliam.
He sat up like a shot. “Well, by all that’s—! Since when?”
“Since Monday of this week.”
“Monday of this week, you say?”
“Yes, although I spoke to her before we left Kent.”
“And she accepted you?”
“Certainly. On Monday, as I said.” There was a trace of irritation in his voice now. “Does that astonish you?”
“No, of course not, only I never thought she liked you above half.” He saw Darcy’s color rise and added hastily, “I beg your pardon! That was a stupid remark. Obviously I was mistaken.”
“Obviously.”
There was a short, strained silence. “Well, she is an extremely engaging woman, Darcy. You are right, I had noticed you watching her at times, but I never dreamed you had any serious intentions. You certainly didn’t appear to be trying to fix your interest with her.”
Darcy sighed. “A mistake I am currently correcting. The favor I wished to ask of you is to speak well of her to your family. Assure them of her virtue and gentility—that she is . . . personable and pleasing, and will not embarrass the family.”
“Of course, it shall be my pleasure,” his cousin assured him earnestly. “And although I can not pretend my father will be pleased, he knows you, too well to suppose he can change your mind.” He chuckled. “I’ll wager she was surprised at your proposal.”
“Yes,” admitted Darcy.
“I recall something she said just a day or two before we left—what was it? That she wondered that you did not marry so that you could have someone at your disposal—something of that sort. I do not think she was imagining herself in that role.”
Darcy stood abruptly. “I am not taking a wife so that I can have her at my disposal, Fitzwilliam.”
“No, of course not. Come on, don’t take offense! It amused me, that’s all.”
“You should learn not to say the first thing that comes into your mind all the time,” he said acidly.
“Well, good heavens, man, she accepted you! Surely that’s more than enough to compensate for any trifling comment she may have made before she knew you wanted to marry her.”
He was silent for a moment, then replied in a calm voice. “I am not offended. I would be obliged if you did not say anything about this at present; I am travelling to Hertfordshire on Wednesday to gain her father’s approval, after which the engagement will be announced. I will write to my uncle myself. I do not wish you to relay the news for me, simply to support my decision to your family.”
“It’s not my place to question your decisions, you know that. As for Miss Bennet, it will certainly not be any hardship to speak well of her. Does Lady Catherine know?”
He frowned. “Not as yet.”
“She will not be pleased.”
“A fact of which I am well aware.” He sighed. “I am prepared for the family’s censure and do not resent it, but you must let them know that I will not tolerate any disrespect or unkindness to Elizabeth. It was my decision to offer for her; she had every right to accept me.” He smiled wryly. “Perhaps they will think better of her if they know that it took her more than a week to give me her answer.”
The colonel’s eyebrows went up. “I do not suppose that you have any qualms about society at large?”
He shrugged. “She will be Mrs. Darcy,” he said arrogantly. “Who will dare slight her?”
Fitzwilliam smirked. “It is well for her that she is a spirited lady.”
“Yes.” Darcy smiled then, thinking of her, and the colonel could see clearly on his face the evidence of his attachment.
“Has Georgiana met her?”
“She has and admires her exceedingly already. I think she will be good for her, Fitzwilliam. Mrs. Annesley is a fine woman, but she cannot replace the influence of a beloved older sister.”
“Georgiana could do with a little of Miss Bennet’s liveliness,” conceded the colonel. “As could you, my friend.”
Darcy smiled a private smile. “I have reached that conclusion myself. But you understand that as Georgiana’s co-guardian, your opinion of Elizabeth’s fitness to live with and guide her must have influence?”
“Well, I can only hope so. I will do my best by you, as I always do.”
“I was counting on that.”
They sat awkwardly for a minute before Darcy inquired after the colonel’s current recruiting efforts. Accepting that the subject had been officially changed, he replied in kind. The visit lasted another quarter of an hour, and Colonel Fitzwilliam left with the promise to dine that evening. Darcy remained in his chair and stared at the wall for a long time, until the butler came to announce another caller.
“Mr. Bingley, sir.”
“Darcy,” said Bingley, when they’d exchanged greetings, “I’ve come to tell you that I’ve written Mrs. Nicholls at Netherfield to expect you next week.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“No, no, not at all! You cannot think I’d let my best friend stay at an inn when I have a house in the area, do you?” He fiddled with his watch nervously. “I may come myself, too, in a while.”
Darcy looked at him closely. “I would be glad of your company.”
“Yes, well, I’m supposed to go up to Scarborough for business for a week or two, but when I get back . . . ,” he trailed off.
“Does this mean that you have decided to stand up with me at my wedding?”
“What? Oh yes, of course! I cannot think why I hesitated.” He jumped to his feet. “Well I can, actually. I need . . . I need more time to think about it all, Darcy. I mean, it’s all I can do not to rush back there this very day, but I keep reminding myself that nothing has really changed, where she is concerned. I have no proof she ever cared about the acqu
aintance, just as you said. I wouldn’t for the world have her placed under any pressure on the matter—to feel she must accept me if she had rather not. I really do not think I could be content just to have her accept me because I’m a good catch, if she does not love me.” He came out of his self-absorption just enough to see his friend’s passing grimace and colored. “Not that I mean any disparagement to you—or to say that Miss Elizabeth—”
Darcy help up a hand. “Say no more. I understand.”
“Well, if I do go back, and especially if I call, I will risk raising expectations again, and I could not possibly—I mean, I already behaved that way once, and I could not, unless I knew, unless, that is, I was certain of what I intended—for myself, you understand, as well as her—” He stopped and looked at his friend, as if appealing to him to understand the feelings he could not coherently express.
Darcy sighed. This development was not unanticipated. It was only natural that his decision would cause Bingley to question his own, but he had no intention of encouraging his friend towards Jane Bennet simply because he was marrying her sister. He had, however, a new need to disengage from the matter, to avoid giving advice which could potentially hurt someone he loved. When he had advised Bingley in November, his loyalty had all lain on one side, but that was no longer the case. “You must do as you think best, my friend,” he answered quietly. “As must every man.”
“Well, I shall. I’ll go to Scarborough immediately, and perhaps by the time I’ve finished my business there, I’ll have made my decision.”
“I wish I could help you, but I am afraid that I am not the man to advise you right now.”
“I don’t wish for your advice,” said Bingley unexpectedly. “I just wanted you to know where I stand on the matter.”
“I appreciate your confidence,” replied Darcy after a moment. “And I appreciate the use of Netherfield.”
“I hope you will be happy, Darcy, no matter what.”
“I intend to be. If,” he added drily, “I can get through the engagement period. Once we are at Pemberley, I have no doubt whatsoever of our happiness.”
“Are you prepared to brave the Bennets?”
“I am prepared to do whatever I must. Though I will not disguise from you the fact that I am not looking forward to enjoying any degree of intimacy with the rest of her family.”
“Come now, man, give them a chance! I’m sure you will not find them as bad as you fear.”
“Perhaps you are right, Bingley,” he replied as he stood to usher his friend out. “One can only hope so.”
Chapter Seven
Monday evening, their last in London, was by coincidence the evening of Mrs. Forsythe’s dinner party, to which they had been invited the previous week. Elizabeth was not very pleased to be spending it in company and felt sure that Darcy thought the same. However, these people would be acquaintances when she married him, and it would not do to begin by giving insult. A point of greater anxiety was whether Mr. Bingley would attend with his sisters. She could see Jane quietly steeling herself against the possibility, gathering her composure around her like a garment.
They dressed carefully together. She had not brought any clothing with her finer than what she thought necessary for dinners at Rosings (and Lady Catherine did like to have the distinction of classes preserved), but she was determined not to be intimidated. She might need to attend for the sake of civility, and she would certainly do her best to be friendly, but she would not descend to the level of changing her mode of dress just to court the favor of people who had nothing more than fashion to recommend them.
Darcy would notice it, she thought, as she looked in the mirror. If she went to this dinner looking like anything other than her usual self, he would certainly notice it and despise her for her artifice. Or else he would believe she had chosen to marry him to gain such connections. So she wore a gown he had seen her in more than once and her most becoming hair style. Then, quite solemnly, she clasped his pearls around her neck. They lay against her skin, lustrous and heavy, understated and eye catching at the same time. Like a wedding ring after marriage, this necklace marked their pledge. Its presence around her neck signified both Darcy’s offer and her acceptance. It could cause speculation, such a fine piece of jewelry on such a simply dressed lady. Yet she could not go without it. It was unthinkable. He would look for it. He would want her marked as his own.
When they arrived at the Forsythe’s home, the first point on which they satisfied themselves was that Mr. Bingley was not present. They could not tell to what to attribute his absence, but it was both a disappointment and a relief. Elizabeth felt sure that Jane had been worried about betraying her feelings before a group of strangers, and from that perspective it was, perhaps, a blessing.
The decidedly fashionable group of gentlemen and ladies seemed to regard them with mild surprise and curiosity. Darcy was there, but his attention was already monopolized when they were introduced, and dinner was announced before he could extricate himself. It was not to be expected that the lowly Miss Bennets would occupy so high a place at the table as the lofty Mr. Darcy, but they were at least close enough to watch each other.
Elizabeth’s primary dinner companion was a young man introduced to her as Mr. Wade. He was personable and conversant, and they made pleasant conversation through the first course. Glancing down the table, Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy watching her. His face was calm and unreadable, but she suddenly remembered something her aunt had said about the possibility that Darcy could become jealous if she was unguarded in her manner towards other men. Mr. Wade certainly presented no cause for jealously—although he was perfectly agreeable and well-bred, Elizabeth saw nothing remarkable about him—but he was young and good looking and apparently pleased with her, and that for some men would be enough. With an inward sigh she determined to restrain some of her liveliness.
Darcy himself was seated next to a handsome and stylish lady, but as far as she could tell, he gave her no more than civil replies. He did not appear as uncomfortable here as in Hertfordshire, but neither was he as animated as when at the Gardiners’. She also could not help but note, with an entirely feminine satisfaction, that he really was quite the handsomest man present. Beyond any doubt he was the most striking; she was not at all surprised that his dinner companion preened.
Mr. Wade noticed the frequent looks between Miss Bennet and Mr. Darcy. “Do you know Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet?” he asked with clear curiosity.
“Yes.”
He waited for more information, and when none was forthcoming ventured, “I was not aware that Mr. Darcy had any connection in Hertfordshire.”
“No, how should you be?” She smiled charmingly at him.
He gave a half laugh. “How indeed? It just made me curious, that’s all.”
Elizabeth took a sip of her wine. “I am sure that Mr. Darcy knows many people, Mr. Wade, as do you yourself.”
He bowed slightly as if to acknowledge the impertinence of his inquiry.
He wasn’t the only one to take note of where Mr. Darcy’s attention lay. A sullen Miss Bingley observed it too. Infuriated, mortified, and feeling keenly the injustice of the situation, she accosted Elizabeth nearly as soon as the ladies retired to the drawing room. “My dear Eliza,” she began, “is the militia still quartered in Meryton?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“How are all the dear officers doing? I know your sisters must be enjoying their company so.”
“As I have not been there for nearly two months, I cannot say.”
“And your favorite, Mr. Wickham? Was he still a part?”
“When last I heard—but you are mistaken in thinking him my favorite.”
“Am I?” Her eyes glinted. “What erroneous impressions one may receive on occasion. Does Mr. Darcy, I wonder, know of your friendship with him?”
“We have spoken of it,” she replied in an answer that managed to be both factual and mendacious at the same time. “You seem to be taking a great inte
rest in him, Miss Bingley.”
The lady huffed a bit. “I only ask out of concern for Mr. Darcy, of course. Having been intimate friends with him these several years now, I believe I may understand him better than others.”
“Ah, but length of intimacy is not always a measure of degree, is it, Miss Bingley?” Elizabeth watched the lady’s cheeks redden, then she smiled and remarked urbanely, “I am sorry not to see your brother this evening. Is he well?”
Miss Bingley smiled thinly. “Extremely well. He has gone out of town on business.”
“Pray give him our regards.”
“I must say Charles was surprisingly reluctant to leave Netherfield last November. He had actually grown somewhat attached to the local society. I do believe if it were not for Mr. Darcy absolutely insisting that he stay in town, he would have returned immediately—but of course, he can never deny his friend anything.”
Elizabeth was too angry to acknowledge a hit. She raised a brow. “Mr. Darcy is a very persuasive man. I have had recent personal experience of his persuasiveness myself.”
Miss Bingley grew redder still, but before she could reply, Mrs. Forsythe approached. “Miss Bennet,” she said warmly. “I was just speaking with your charming aunt and sister. I hope you are enjoying your evening?”
“Very well, thank you,” she replied civilly. “I must compliment your cook; I have seldom enjoyed a meal more.”
“Thank you, we just got him from France.” She smiled a small, pleased smile. “Miss Bennet, your sister tells me that you both sing and play the pianoforte.”
“Without any particular proficiency, I assure you.”
“I am sure you are too modest. Some of the other young ladies are going to display later, and I was hoping I could persuade you to join them.”
“I am sure your guests would prefer to hear a performer more skilled than myself—Miss Bingley, for instance.”
Unequal Affections: A Pride and Prejudice Retelling Page 11