Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

by Brenda J. Webb

  LONGBOURN

  Late Evening

  Watching his eldest daughter and her fiancé stroll through the gardens outside his study window brought a slight smile to Thomas Bennet’s face, the first one in days. Mary was not twenty steps behind them, keeping pace, though her attention was fixed on the book in her hands. So focused was she that every so often she would trip over a rock, a stick or a tuft of grass and struggle to catch her balance. It made for a most amusing sight.

  At least Jane is well matched . Though undoubtedly she and Mr. Bingley are both so agreeable that they will be cheated assiduously by their servants, and be so generous with the rest, they will always exceed their income. 5 In any event, I do not worry about their felicity as I do Elizabeth’s. What happened to her is my fault, and that makes it all the more painful. I raised Elizabeth to be more like a man in temperament. Had she not been so bold and confident, she would never have met with that blackguard alone .

  Glancing now at the papers in his hand, delivered that morning, Mr. Bennet was reminded of the taciturn fellow who would soon abscond with his favourite child. Though Charles had given his word that this Darcy was honourable, it had not allayed his reservations substantially. For while Bingley was near to Jane’s age, with little or no experience in running an estate, Lizzy’s fiancé was many years older and had been the master of Pemberley since his father’s death. No doubt he was used to being obeyed without question, and Elizabeth was used to questioning before obeying.

  Turning so that the faint sunlight illuminated the pages, he rubbed his chin appraisingly as he read the settlement once more.

  Though his demeanour was unflappable and he did not act the lovelorn suitor, Mr. Darcy must care for Elizabeth, else why would he settle on her so large a sum? Still, he hardly knows her, and I have to wonder if he will continue to care so keenly after he learns her nature.

  A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Reminding himself that he had no alternative but to follow through with what he had decreed, he called, “Come!”

  The door opened much more slowly than usual, revealing that Elizabeth stood just outside. She hesitated a moment before stepping inside, her eyes fixed on the floor the entire time. His heart broke, for only a few weeks before she would have bounded into the room and run to plant a kiss on his cheek.

  “Shut the door, Elizabeth.” She complied and, when she turned back to face him, he added, “Sit down, please.”

  As quiet as a mouse, she took her usual seat in front of his desk. Realizing that this might be the last time they would share his study in this manner, a large lump filled Mr. Bennet’s throat. Nevertheless, taking a deep breath, he began.

  “I do not understand how you came to know this Mr. Darcy in the short time you were at Netherfield, but it seems that you made quite the impression.” Elizabeth looked up through her lashes, her expression quizzical. “I have never seen nor heard of a more generous settlement in my life.”

  “You need not tease me, Papa,” she answered cynically. “I am resigned to marrying Mr. Darcy.”

  “I assure you that I am not teasing,” He slid the papers across the desk. “I would like for you to read this.”

  Shrugging with indifference, Elizabeth took the proffered pages and settled back in the chair. The further she read, the more her mouth fell open. “Surely this cannot be correct.”

  “It is true. Mr. Darcy sent a letter summarizing what he was settling on you and on any children you may have. There is no error.”

  Elizabeth counted the zeros again. Shaking her head, she murmured, “I cannot fathom anyone needing that large a sum or anyone granting it.”

  “He is most generous.”

  Elizabeth laid the papers on the desk, stood and walked over to the window to stare at her sisters and Bingley, who were still circling the garden. Crossing her arms, she ran her hands up and down her forearms.

  “Mr. Bingley told Jane that Mr. Darcy’s fortune was far more than the ‘ten thousand a year and half of Derbyshire’ that everyone was so keen to note,” she said.

  “After seeing this, I would have to agree.”

  “Still, I am puzzled as to why he would want to marry me. There are many women who would suit him much better, even Caroline Bingley.”

  “You have only to say the word and I shall reject his settlement and send Mr. Darcy away. When I received the settlement, I also received a letter from my cousin saying he will arrive before dark. If you would rather marry—”

  Elizabeth whirled around. “You cannot be serious! Mr. Collins is ridiculous! Moreover, he looks as though he never bathes and he smells of cheap cologne.”

  “And Mr. Darcy?”

  She sighed. “At least he looks clean, though I have not been close enough to notice if he smells.”

  Mr. Bennet could not suppress a chuckle, causing Elizabeth to break into a smile. Rising from his desk, he moved to where she stood, turning her around so that they both observed the garden as he slipped his arm around her shoulder. While their eyes followed the three people circling the pathway, he offered some counsel.

  “Everyone thinks Jane and Mr. Bingley are well matched, and so they are for they are both even-tempered and easily pleased. Jane would not know what to do with someone as, shall we say, intense as Mr. Darcy.” He glanced to Elizabeth, noting that her brows knit with his words. “But you are not Jane, and I believe your rejection of Collins is for the best. You need someone who is his own man—someone intelligent, strong and authoritative. Should you settle for someone you can rule, you will be miserable.”

  Elizabeth bristled. “Am I so unbearable?”

  “I am not criticising you. In fact, your spirit is one aspect of your nature that I have always encouraged, though I fear that I may have done you a disservice. For not many men desire a headstrong wife.”

  “I am headstrong in that I do not like men who are easily swayed with every wind. Still, Mr. Darcy seems a bit stern. Do you think a man can be too authoritative?”

  “Only if he uses that authority for evil, and Bingley has vouched for Fitzwilliam Darcy’s character, so I do not think him that kind of man.”

  She nodded, seemingly still not convinced, but past arguing.

  “I think that with a little patience, Mr. Darcy will make a good husband. But I caution you to remember that he has been master of a large estate for many years and is used to being obeyed.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “A man of seven and twenty is set in his ways. You must give him time to become accustomed to being married and to consider your opinion. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Aunt Gardiner said the same thing when we talked, and I told her that I shall give it my best effort.”

  “That is all one can ask.” Then turning her so that they faced one another, he pushed an errant curl behind her ear. “I am sorry that you and your sisters do not have more choices in marriage. I should have provided you with stouter dowries.”

  “I would not be forced to marry had I not thought myself so very clever in meeting Andrew Darcy alone.”

  Thomas Bennet’s eyes got teary. “I want you to know that I have always wished for you to marry a man who would appreciate your uniqueness. I pray Mr. Darcy is clever enough to be that man.”

  “Perhaps we shall both be pleasantly surprised.”

  They stayed at the window, arms about each other, watching the impromptu parade as the sun began to set. Finally, a knock came at the door.

  “Dinner is being served, sir.”

  “Thank you, Hill.”

  THE BENNET DINING ROOM

  The Gardiners were at their sister Phillips’ home and would not return until late, so only the Bennets were gathering around the dinner table that evening. They had barely taken their seats when the noise of a carriage in front of the house caught their attention. Mr. Hill hurried to the front door while Mrs. Hill stopped in her tracks for fear that dinner was about to be delayed. As the room grew quiet, Mr. Collins could be heard speaking as he came into the f
oyer.

  “Already eating, you say?” The sound of footsteps coming toward the dining room was quickly followed by the door flying open. “Oh, my dear cousins!” Collins exclaimed. “What a feast! And it seems I am just in time to join you!”

  Without waiting for an invitation, he turned to Mrs. Hill. “Where may I wash my hands?” She motioned towards the door to the kitchen, and he strode in that direction, calling over his shoulder, “Do not wait for me! I shall return shortly.”

  The deep breath that Mr. Bennet took did not bode well. It was obvious to those at the table that he was not happy with his cousin’s presence or his directive and was trying not to fly into a rage.

  As Hill and her husband began to place the food on the table, he found his voice. “Do not say anything to my cousin regarding Lizzy’s engagement. I shall inform him after dinner in my study. Is that understood?”

  No one had time to reply because the vicar came back into the room and took the empty chair next to Elizabeth. As he did, he looked at her appraisingly, his inspection ending with a smirk as he placed his napkin under his chin.

  “I am delighted to be back amongst my family,” he said, thoroughly convinced that Mrs. Bennet had made Elizabeth understand that she must accept his suit.

  Lydia and Kitty snickered. Mr. Bennet stopped them with a glare.

  “I have written to her ladyship that I shall have good news to share when I return, and she will be most pleased... most pleased!”

  During this pronouncement, he gave Elizabeth a large smile, revealing that his teeth still needed a good cleaning.

  “Fortuitously, whomever I marry will benefit from my patroness’ advice. I have been astonished that she has concerned herself with my humble abode, but she has instructed me on the specifics of adding shelves to closets, the correct shades of paint for each room and even provided a use for old curtains. In addition, she explained how to lay out my garden and provided a cure for ridding the garden and my home of any type of pest.”

  “Including a stupid vicar?” Mr. Bennet mumbled under his breath.

  This brought more snickers from Kitty and Lydia, who were close enough to hear, and a shake of the head from Mrs. Bennet.

  After another hearty bite of potatoes, Collins replied, “I am sorry, Cousin. I did not hear your last remark.”

  “I was wondering how someone of her ladyship’s station has such a vast knowledge of pests.”

  Mr. Collins beamed, most eager to explain. “Her ladyship is very intelligent! She often knows what is needed before you are aware that you are in need.”

  “I see,” Mr. Bennet replied dryly.

  “By the by, whilst I was visiting the vicar at Tipton, I received a letter from her ladyship enquiring if I had previously encountered her nephew, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, in Meryton. It seems her sources reported that he had been in residence at Netherfield. Is he still in the neighbourhood?”

  Mr. Bennet bristled. “She has her nephew spied upon? The Darcy I met is no child and would not appreciate being treated thusly, I imagine.”

  “Oh, it is not like that at all. Mr. Darcy is her daughter’s fiancé and she worries for his safety.”

  Mr. Bennet looked to Elizabeth, her expression indicating that she was as astonished as he. As calmly as he could, he challenged, “Her daughter’s fiancé? Surely you are mistaken. I spoke to the man not a week past, and when he told me of his current situation, he never mentioned being engaged.”

  Collins looked cautiously about the table. “I do not think my patroness would mind if I told you the particulars of the engagement. After all, she speaks of it quite freely to all who will listen.”

  “Then why do you not enlighten us.”

  “It is an unusual arrangement. It was agreed upon by their mothers whilst they were yet in their cradles.”

  Thomas Bennet huffed. “Unusual—I would say unenforceable. An engagement of that sort would not be binding to either party, in my opinion.”

  “Oh, I assure you that it is! Mr. Darcy is bound by duty and honour to marry his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh!”

  Forgetting herself completely, Lydia retorted, “La! It seems he takes no care for duty, since he has offered for Lizzy!”

  Realising too late what she had done, Lydia clamped her hand over her mouth and slunk down in her chair under her father’s stern gaze.

  “Engaged to Miss Elizabeth! That is preposterous! Mr. Darcy would never marry someone so beneath his station!” Collins exclaimed, even as he turned to Mrs. Bennet for confirmation. “Did you not say that she was ready to accept my offer?”

  “I... ” was all that Mrs. Bennet could manage before her husband interrupted.

  Incensed at Collins’ pronouncement, Mr. Bennet declared, “I assure you that Mr Darcy does intend to marry Elizabeth. I received his settlement just this morning, and it is very generous.”

  Collins stood abruptly, causing his chair to fall back and hit the floor. “I cannot stay under this roof another minute! My esteemed patroness will be most displeased when she hears this news. Most displeased! And I shall not have her thinking I had any part in it. Please have a servant fetch my bags and drive me into Meryton. I shall take a room at the inn.”

  Instantly, he was out of the dining room, the door slamming shut behind him as proof. The silence was deafening as all the members of the family held their breath. Then Mr. Bennet spoke.

  “Well I, for one, am grateful that we will not be made to suffer through another night of Fordyce’s sermons!”

  With that pronouncement, he stood and was out the door as hastily as Collins. For a brief moment, no one moved. Then Elizabeth began to giggle, and the others joined in one at a time. Even Mrs. Bennet gave in, finding a new use for her handkerchief as she used it to wipe the tears now streaming down her cheeks, the result of having laughed so heartily.

  LONDON

  Younge’s Boarding House

  As Andrew Darcy reined his horse to a stop, he looked at the dilapidated building that comprised Younge’s Inn, located just minutes from London Bridge. He had thought to go north when he left Manchester, but soon realised he could hide more readily in Town than in some obscure village where he might stand out; thus, he donned the old clothes he kept for whenever he wished to avoid being recognised and headed straight to the Mint. 6

  According to Wickham, in this area he could get lost in the rabble that occupied the lowest level of society. Mrs. Eunice Younge, a widow and one of Wickham’s old paramours, would accommodate anyone who had the funds to pay. Her late brother, one of George’s associates, had stolen enough to pay for the inn before his death, leaving her with a way to make a living, howbeit a difficult one, for she dealt with the vilest of men.

  Hesitating to dismount, Andrew considered how far he had sunk. No decent man would ride through this area, must less reside here, unless he had good reason. And he had. He must remain hidden until the misfortune of Miss Harrington’s death was not as sorely felt, and Lord Warren had calmed enough to think more clearly. Thus, with no alternative, he threw his leg over his mount and dropped to the ground.

  Wearily slapping his hat against his breeches in an attempt to remove some of the dust, all he managed to do was create a cloud of dirt. He was taking the steps to the front door when a woman with weary brown eyes and unkempt red hair appeared in the doorway. She was briskly wiping her hands on a stained apron. He noted that she was plain and probably in her late thirties, though the wrinkles on her face made her appear older.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked, though her tone was not solicitous.

  “George Wickham said that you might have a room for rent.”

  She studied him carefully. “Wickham, you say? How do you know him?”

  “I grew up at Pemberley when his father was the steward. We have been friends since I was eleven.”

  “You must be the other Darcy—not the heir to Pemberley. Why would a man of your station be dressed like a pauper or wish to stay here?”

 
“I need to hide from an irate father, and I do not think he will look for me here.” Andrew looked about anxiously. “George assured me that you could help, but if not—”

  “Do not get distraught, Mr. Darcy. I like to know what I am facing, that is all. I have room six available.”

  “Very well, but please, refer to me as Mr. Smith, if you do not mind.”

  “Just so you understand, if an irate father or the law comes looking, I will tell them only that a Mr. Smith is renting room six; however, I will not prevent them from searching the room and it will be your problem to escape by the back door or a window if they find you. I will try to warn you if I have the opportunity, but I cannot guarantee anything.”

  “Agreed.”

  As they entered the building, she became a bit friendlier. “When was the last time you saw George? That blackguard owes me a thruppence.” 7

  Andrew flashed his best smile, always the charmer. “I saw George about a week ago. He is a lieutenant in the militia now.”

  “So he joined, did he? He swore he would, but I never believed him. I imagine all the ladies admire him in his red coat. He was always a handsome devil.”

  “He does cut a fine figure in his uniform.” Andrew reached into his coat pocket, bringing out a shilling. “Perhaps you will allow me to pay you what George owes and a little towards my rent?”

  Mrs. Younge took the coin, biting it to ascertain it was genuine. Satisfied, she dropped it in her bosom. “Since you are George’s friend, the room will cost you a ha-penny a day. Washing and meals are extra.”

  “Excellent. Just keep the shilling, and when I owe you more, let me know.”

  “You can rest assured that I will. Now, let me fetch the key.”

  Chapter 11

  Meryton

  Longbourn

  Longbourn was straining at the seams, but Mrs. Bennet was in her element as hostess of the wedding breakfast for Mr. Darcy and her least favourite child. Moving from one guest to another, suggesting that they try this or that dish, she was certain that Meryton had never seen, nor would ever again see, a more sumptuous banquet. Nor, she thought, would the majority of her neighbours have many opportunities to associate with more august personages than her new son and his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam—the son of an earl, no less! Her reputation for hospitality would forever be fixed in the annals of local society.