Elizabeth gave him a grateful smile that soon turned teasing. “And our odd relatives? You have met all of mine. Do you have any others, sir?”
Smiling, Darcy returned her playfulness. “Relatives, or do you only mean the odd ones?” This earned a chuckle from Elizabeth, and he was delighted that he had eased her spirits.
Turning serious, she carefully replied, “You have only a younger sister, I believe.”
Darcy’s smile turned wistful. “Georgiana. She is more than ten years my junior and the dearest creature, doubly precious as she was my only immediate family until we married. Mother died shortly after her birth. My cousin Henry and I have been her guardians since Father died five years ago.” A variety of emotions passed across his eyes while he was speaking. He grew silent.
“I understand she is very accomplished.” Elizabeth pushed for more information with obvious nervousness.
The tone of her voice gained Darcy’s attention. “Miss Bingley is a shameless flatterer when she feels it to her advantage. You are clever enough to guess that she sought not only to garner favour from me, but she also was attempting to insult you during her speech on accomplishments. Georgiana is but fifteen. She excels in music but has little patience to show true proficiency in the other arts yet, nor will I pressure her to learn them. She is fond of reading. She is also painfully shy. I believe she will gain as much from your liveliness as I will.” He squeezed her hand, and Elizabeth let out an audible exhale.
“And your other relatives? Lord Sidney seems very amiable.”
“Yes, my mother’s generation of Fitzwilliams were quite varied. I am told Mother was quiet and shy and that Georgiana is quite like her, but in my memories, Mother is always perfect and serene, not quite as reserved as my sister and I. She shocked the older generation of her family with a love match to my father. They wanted a titled man, but she was firm in her love for him.”
Elizabeth nodded. “She sounds like Jane. She used to be dreadfully shy, but we Bennets are nothing if not adaptable; in time, she learned to find an inner peace and project such serenity outward. This masks her fervent feelings, not dissimilar to your own, I suspect, and she will only marry for love.”
Darcy was amazed at Elizabeth’s words. When Bingley first proposed, Darcy had not believed Jane had regard for his friend. Had Darcy not been so consumed with his own concerns or known Bingley entertained serious thoughts about Jane, he would have considered warning Bingley off. Afterwards, while there was little he could do about his friend’s engagement, especially after events at the ball, he had remained sceptical, although he could not assign terrible motives on Jane’s part for the incident at the ball. Now he searched his memory and recognised that her countenance when with Bingley was quite like his mother’s calm affection for his father. Perhaps it was fortunate he had not had a chance to interfere, both for his friend’s happiness and his own relations with his wife and her family.
“And the other Fitzwilliams?” Elizabeth’s voice startled him from his musings.
“The earl’s four children are as amiable as he. You already know Lady Catherine is horribly overbearing.” He paused again as the events of the morning raced through his head. “I owe you an apology.”
“You cannot be held responsible for the actions of your family.” Her words made his heart clench.
“That is exactly it. During our engagement, you have felt unsure of my affections many times. And I have repeatedly declared how much I value you. I have denied any desire for a wife only of rank and fortune, but you still seem to believe I had my doubts.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied. She stirred uneasily.
“Did you...do you believe I hold your family in contempt? Is that why you have been so upset today? You fear you will not see them often?”
The tears flooding her eyes were answer enough. “I will admit their behaviour to you often disgusts me. I speak more of your parents’ lack of consideration for your feelings. Though claiming to love you, they display impudence and vulgarity in their lack of decorum. Please believe me; although I cannot be at ease with them, I would welcome your visits with them either in Hertfordshire or in any of our homes. I know what it is to lose family. I would never ask that of you simply for my own comfort.”
Elizabeth took a shaky breath. “Thank you. I know most of them are quite indecorous, but I love them. And what is more, they love me, and as I enter your world and your family with an unsure reception, they mean all the more to me.”
She paused for a moment, then softly added, “I fear you will come to regret me…come to think I am too like them, regret that I am not enough like the ladies of the ton. If I embarrass you, will you think me as wild and vulgar as my family?”
Darcy was stunned to realise he had never considered Elizabeth would feel that way, though he secretly believed she oversimplified her family’s acceptance of her. Did he not hear her mother criticise her frequently?
Darcy took one of her hands and raised it to his lips before speaking. “I am sorry you fear for your acceptance. I hope meeting my uncle has helped assuage some of your fears. I could never regret you. Let me express from the bottom of my heart that I am humbled and ashamed of my aunt’s actions. I cannot criticise your family when my own is much worse. And I see now I must value them for the way they shaped your life and made you into the fascinating woman you are. And I thank you for not judging me too harshly in light of my vulgar relations.”
They sat in silence. Darcy held Elizabeth’s hand on his chest, over his beating heart. He certainly felt a closer intimacy with Elizabeth than he ever had before. It was liberating to express his feelings about her family, although disconcerting to see how wrong they had once been. Even more gratifying, Elizabeth accepted him still, although she had seen yet another side of the worst in him. With everyone else, he needed to be the master of Pemberley, faultless in all roles: master, landlord, nephew, cousin, brother, and friend. Elizabeth saw who he truly was.
At long last, she broke the silence. “I believe we were discussing your Fitzwilliam relatives?”
“My mother had three other siblings, but they died young. A fever struck the family and left tragedy in its wake. Such was nearly the case with Anne.”
“Does she still suffer?”
“She was such a gentle and happy child until a bout with scarlet fever one year. Now she is often plagued with pains in her body and heart. The fever occasionally returns. Lately, she has been prone to outbursts and uncontrolled movements. The physicians have evaluated her and can only say this is sometimes an unfortunate consequence of her fever. She is not always so incapacitated. In her right mind, she has no desire to marry; she is not fixed upon me. But during these attacks, she is...unstable.”
Darcy had grown quite distressed speaking of the subject, but Elizabeth attempted to soothe him. “It must be difficult to see an illness take such a hold on a loved one.”
Darcy only nodded. It was always acutely painful to see his loved ones suffer and pass, and he had certainly seen it many times over. Now he had the added burden of responsibility for helping to manage the de Bourgh estate.
Elizabeth’s voice broke in again. “My mother’s siblings have that same range of behaviour as your own wider family’s. Surely you see Mr. Gardiner is nothing like Mrs. Phillips or my mother. I hope you liked the Gardiners.”
Squeezing her hand, he smiled. “I truly did. They were very pleasant. We have been invited to dine with them while we are in London after the holidays, unless you would rather host them. I leave it to you to select the date.” Elizabeth smiled, and Darcy was grateful that Mr. Gardiner seemed ready to overlook his sins where Elizabeth was concerned.
“My father had no surviving siblings. Did yours?”
“Two older sisters lived; they married and moved far away. I rarely see them. Father’s youngest brother drowned as a youth, another one died as an infant, and the one nearest his age died in the Flanders Campaign in ‘93. His family had desired he enter the ch
urch, but he was not suited to that kind of quiet life, apparently.” Darcy sighed. Speaking of it brought to mind his father’s fervent wish for Wickham to enter the church to be spared such a fate. “He had several daughters and one son who intends to take orders but they are not settled near Pemberley.”
“So much loss, so young. Wealth can only offer comforts for the time we are allowed on this earth, for it can neither assure happiness or preservation of life.”
They grew pensive, but Darcy could not bear for Elizabeth to be left melancholy on their wedding day. “This will not do. Let us speak of something more cheerful. What think you of books?”
Elizabeth laughed. “William, what kind of question is that? Do you mean to ask if I enjoy reading? Do you wish to discuss a specific title or genre? Or should I say something that displays my refined taste?” She arched a brow and fluttered her eyelashes. “Very well, I do think books look best in a library, closed and on the shelves. The colour of their spines offsets the wood found in such a room. There, do I sound like a fashionable lady?”
Darcy chuckled at the image she created to ease her obvious nerves. “Elizabeth, you know I would not have you be anything but your intelligent self. I know you enjoy reading. Do you like just the usual histories and poetry?” He watched in satisfaction as his words took away her unease, and she answered without reservation.
“Of course not! I read many things, even all the current novels and their satires as well. Does that shock you?” She laughed when he replied in the negative. “If I ever wrote my own satire, however, I would write the gentleman in the role of the virtuous servant Pamela, who resists the seductions of her master.”
He tried to contain his smile. He was not shocked at all that she had read the famous novel or held such an unusual opinion. Once again, his fantasy of Elizabeth proved too true to the real thing, even her words were the same; however, he must not dwell on such things. Darcy turned his mind back to the present from remembrance of Elizabeth’s responses to him in that particular imagining.
Arching a brow, he replied, “I believe that has been done. Was not Joseph Andrews virtuous to his Fanny? Did he not resist the enticements of a wealthy and titled lady?”2
He was also unsurprised to see her acknowledge that she had read Henry Fielding’s parody of Pamela, in which her brother was just as chaste as she.
Elizabeth looked at him appraisingly. “I must agree. Although Fielding was mocking Richardson, I did find Joseph Andrews’ celibacy refreshing compared to the hypocrisy of Mr. Bountiful, who only desired to seduce Pamela and had at least one natural child. Or even Fielding’s Tom Jones, who is too happy to be lost in the arms of various temptresses and possibly fathered a child by one while proclaiming love for another.”3
She paused and seemed disappointed not to have shocked or provoked him with her demand for male celibacy.
Darcy decided to turn the tables on her. “You seem quite put out by the men acknowledging their natural children. It is their obligation to care for the child and its mother. What would you have them do instead?”
Her eyes flashed, and Darcy suppressed his slight smile.
“What wife would enjoy thinking that of her husband? Of knowing he held affection for someone else? How can she trust his vow of fidelity? Especially as these women love the men, it is not a mere marriage of convenience they hope to make.”
“You speak passionately on the subject.”
“I am convinced nothing but mutual affection can lead to marital felicity or self-respect.” Darcy nodded in agreement, and she continued, “But it is more than that: it is the lack of prudence that is offensive. Those men would rob the legitimate heir of his due to fund this other child, steal from a daughter’s dowry to put up a child and mother, and all for selfish desires. I know it is the honourable way when an innocent child is begat, but it is not the most honourable way for a gentleman to behave.”
“You talk as though maintaining one woman and child with modest expectations is an expensive feat.”
“You are speaking to a woman who knows the sense of economy. My father spends the whole of his income each year and one hundred pounds each on us sisters. A gentleman would be hard pressed to support his child and its mother on much less than that, not considering the more expensive gentleman’s education if the child is a boy, and yet it would rob my family of the comforts we have. Certainly you can see we are not outfitted in the newest styles and expensive trimmings, and our carriage horses work on the farm as well.”
After a pause, she shook her head and began anew. “However, I do not speak of that kind of virtue. Consider Pamela’s lowly position as a servant and her willingness to spurn being well settled as mistress of the wealthy Mr. Bountiful to keep her chastity and respectability. Not only are gentlemen not expected to be chaste, but I also doubt they are taught to spurn the seduction of a handsome fortune or fine estate for nearly any reason. You nearly did not.”
“You think not?”
“You must confess the truth! It was another point among your fastidious standards for suitable women.”
“When I first met you, I admit I felt more akin to Tom Jones than Joseph Andrews, yes.”4
“Worried of falling into the web of a certain lady of great means?”
She smirked, and he understood she referenced Miss Bingley. He suppressed a shudder. “Certainly not. I was never tempted by Miss Bingley.” He paused, then clarified the matter. “I have had one who would steal all that is mine.”
“The great master of Pemberley made to feel like an impoverished foundling, unacknowledged by your only living parent, cheated by the companion of your youth, and nearly losing your rightful inheritance? Come, sir, it cannot be.”
“Oh, but it is. In matters of affection and attention, I was cheated. The same villain attempted to force himself into marriage with my sister—a more faithful portrait of Sophia there could never be. She is everything beautiful, youthful, innocent, modest, and tender.”5
Elizabeth gasped. “How awful. How was she saved?”
“By the merest chance.”
Darcy did not desire to speak of Wickham this day, so he chose to alter the course of the conversation again. It seemed no matter what he did speak to Elizabeth about that night in the library, which charmed her enough to come to his bed, it was not on the subject of Pamela or seduction. Still, he found himself feeling bold enough to speak some of the words he wished he shared with her then.
“You are incorrect in your assumptions of what I desired in a woman, Elizabeth. I might not have known exactly why I was never drawn to any other lady before, but I knew I wanted a woman who could match me intellectually and defend her opinions. I did not want timidity, and I was sick of deference.” He paused and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “Shortly after meeting you, I found I very much admired impertinence and a lively mind.”
Elizabeth gasped at the contact but bravely spoke. “You refused the trappings of society all along, like Pamela?”6
He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I did, and I think I was always longing for you, Lizzy.” She blushed, and he added, “And, dear, so you know, I have been like Joseph Andrews as well. You need have no fear of our children’s money being spent on others.”
He bestowed a tender kiss but lingered on her lips almost as a promise of more to come later. Elizabeth sighed happily as he broke the contact, and they continued the discussion of literature until the carriage passed onto the cobbled streets of London.
* * *
1 Anne is suffering from what we would diagnose as rheumatic fever, a complication from Scarlet Fever. The onset of her behaviour is a complication of it.
2 I have mentioned Pamela before. The book inspired many parodies (or blatant plagiarism in some cases). Henry Fielding wrote several. One was called Shamela, in which the heroine is not virtuous or chaste but merely acting a part. Another was Joseph Andrews. He was the brother of Pamela’s heroine, and amongst the trials he goes through before fin
ally being united with his beloved, he continually resists the seduction of, I kid you not, Lady Booby. Fielding was mocking the moral hypocrisy in Pamela but not seriously arguing for male chastity, although Elizabeth wishes he had been.
3 Tom Jones was another famous novel by Fielding. I am not attempting at all to summarise the entire plot, but only in relation to Darcy and Elizabeth’s conversation. The protagonist was raised as a foundling for a wealthy gentleman’s family. He has a short affair with the gamekeeper’s daughter and possibly fathers her child. Later, he falls in love with his childhood friend and neighbour from a nearby estate, Sophia Western. Both families are against their marriage. Feeling the obstacles insurmountable, Tom flees the area and eventually meets Lady Bellaston, and even when he is later reunited with Sophia, who has avoided an arranged marriage, and she affirms her regard for him, Tom does not give up his affair with Lady Bellaston. Later, he ends up in yet another woman’s bed.
Elizabeth finds this offensive, although in the end, Tom marries Sophia, and he is seemingly reformed by her virtuous ways. Richardson describes Tom’s marriage to Sophia as thus: “Whatever in the nature of Jones had a tendency to vice,,[sic] has been corrected by continual conversation with this good man, and by his union with the lovely and virtuous Sophia.”
4 Darcy casts Wickham in the role of Tom’s enemies. Tom was raised with one of his enemies. Tom was actually heir to the estate, but through the lies about his birth, his enemy was believed to be the heir. The young man was cruel to Tom while gaining the affections of most of the characters. Another man planned to rape Sophia and trap her into marriage in order to make Tom give her up. In this case, Wickham is like both enemies.
5 Darcy does not desire a wife like Sophia but admits his sister is very much like her. An 1800 pin-up of a dishevelled Sophia jumping rope in contemporary clothing, rather than the hoop skirts of the 1740s, described her thusly: “Adorned with all the charms in which Nature can array her, bedecked with beauty, youth, sprightliness, innocence, modesty and tenderness, breathing sweetness from her rosy lips and darting brightness from her sparkling eyes, the lovely Sophia comes!”
Compromising Mr. Darcy Page 42