"Darcy, I am sorry."
"But I am not. I am the happiest man on earth. I never wished to inherit Rosings. It was a stupid request from my mother and aunt. Now, if it has been passed onto you, I believe it to be only fair, for you are the most deserving of all my relatives."
"Darcy, do you understand what this means to me? Yes, of course you do."
"I understand you might be even grander than me now, for your fortune shall be larger than mine and you have the name of your father to back you up."
Grander than you? Indeed I shall never be, he reflected to himself with a sigh, his thoughts immediately wandering to the little lady who was Mistress of Pemberley now.
"Very well, then. Let us not conjecture any longer now, for your future shall be decided in a month and not before that."
~•~
Mr Bingley returned to his house at Netherfield Park on is own, his wife stayed at her paternal house to console her mother in her present distress. As soon as he entered Netherfield he rang for his valet and ordered him to pack all his belongings and prepare a carriage. No, Mrs Bingley would stay at home, and no, he need not bother the rest of the household. The manservant had to do the packing himself as discreetly as possible but all the Master's belongings should be packed without delay.
Bingley then went over the nursery to bid his children adieu.
Master Charles was sleeping peacefully and little Caroline was sucking her thumb, her eyes half close as she little by little, ever so reluctantly, fell in a slumber.
The nurse stood up and made a gesture to let the children's father in, but Charles merely signed her to resume her place. He would not disturb the children.
When his belongings were ready, he climbed into the carriage and sighed deeply as he dropped his body on the seat. He gave the driver the signal to go and without further ceremony the carriage rode away.
He did not look back.
Bingley had not travelled much when he saw the familiar figure of a man on horseback. The horse, he noticed, was limping and the gentleman would be soon left at the mercy of highwaymen were he to continue his journey at this present pace. Bingley signalled the carriage to halt and wait for the gentleman to catch up.
"Mr Wickham," exclaimed Bingley in astonishment to find himself facing the gentleman.
"Dear brother." Wickham was in turn not a little surprise to find his relation half way to London. "What a pleasant coincidence. You cannot imagine my relief to see you. I had not idea you intended to travel."
"Neither did I. Are you heading for London, sir?"
"I am sir. I see you are too."
"Indeed. Would you care to join me? Your horse does not look fit to continue much further."
"I would be most obliged, sir. Am I not an inconvenience?"
"Not at all, sir. I think I could welcome some conversation in my trip."
"I would be delighted both to join you and converse with you, sir."
So, Mr Bingley gladly made room for Mr Wickham who now was his brother in more than a way. The conversation flowed easily, mostly on horses and lost battles, the subject of wives carefully avoided. Yet Wickham soon noticed Mr Bingley was in fact struggling to say something of delicate nature. In the end, after a long pause, Bingley made up his mind to inquire on the preoccupying subject. Divorce.
"So, may I be so bold so as to inquire how you are planning to deal with your wife?"
Wickham eyed him suspiciously, and Bingley blushed uncontrollably, his emotions in great turmoil.
That such a question should be made by such an unconnected relative was little less than weird. Add to it the fact that the man was obviously fleeing from home, his wife unaware of his whereabouts for not a word had been mentioned at Longbourne of Mr Bingley's impending journey to London, otherwise it would have been suggested that he could be of some help to Mr Bennet to seek for his daughter (Wickham would not look for her for a million guineas) In the intelligence of Mrs Bingley's little day outing with the dashing Colonel, Mr Wickham soon surmised that Bingley must have been apprised of the affair and was now, planning to do something about it.
Instead of answering his question, Wickham retorted… "Is Colonel Fitzwilliam still at Netherfield?"
Bingley looked up at him, his red face, a vivid purple now.
"He is not."
"I see. And you sir, are planning to stay at…"
"My town house. And you, sir?"
"I have no place to go in particular."
"I would be glad to receive you at home, sir."
"Thank you, Bingley. I would be delighted."
Forty-Five
—
A Chapter on Divorce, Inheritance and Vicious Customs
Never in her life had Elizabeth had the opportunity to travel around so much, and so frequently. Ere long after Georgiana's arrival, Darcy and his bride had accompanied a reluctant Colonel Fitzwilliam to Matlock to pay their first call as a married couple to their relatives. Back at Pemberley, Darcy had taken her to numerous trips around the estate, perhaps to satisfy the peasantry's curiosity and allow them to catch a cursory glimpse at the new mistress. The fact that the many journeys were all done in the enticing company of her handsome husband, made the novelty a delightful experience.
This present trip to London, had been indeed much planned and waited for. The only pain was in having to leave Georgiana behind again. Indeed, Elizabeth already loved her new sister as much as any of her con-sanguine relatives; the girl's sweet demeanour had soon helped the new mistress of Pemberley make up for the absence of her beloved sister Jane. Jane's presence was so notoriously missed in Elizabeth's everyday life, that time only increased the desire to see her again.
August had almost passed away, however, and Darcy's impending trip to London was unavoidable. Fortunately, his plans for a pleasant journey went smoothly, and everything was finally settled according to Darcy's first schemes. Again would the three day trip be done with the two stops at the inns, the same inns that had lodged them when travelling to Pemberley. Only this time, the experience promised to be very much enjoyable, for their relationship had acquired a level of intimacy proper of a married couple and the characteristic passionate nature of the newly wedded still endured.
So they arrived at their town house by noon on the third day after their departure and after spending the night in a most pleasurable manner, Mr Darcy took his wife to Gracechurch Street to visit her relatives, while he headed for his attorney's office, where he would meet Colonel Fitzwilliam.
The meeting did not take long. The will was read, and as Darcy had foretold, his rightful inheritance had been passed almost entirely to his cousin, with the exceptions of the house in Scotland and the town house which remained in his hands. In the end, he agreed to sell the latter to Fitzwilliam, the price conveniently decided upon in Darcy's study in his town house
"So how is the new Mistress of Pemberley faring?" asked Fitzwilliam cheerfully after the matter had been settled. If he could not see her, at least he could ask about her.
"That is a question only the Mistress of Pemberley can answer," said Darcy with a happy smile. "Why do you not stay to dine with us?"
Fitzwilliam's jaws clenched. He was tempted to accept the invitation. He would give half his inheritance to be able to see the beautiful face of his beloved Elizabeth again. But he knew it was hopelessly pointless. He had barely endured the short meeting at Pemberley and subsequent journey to Matlock, yet he was proud he had schooled his true feelings into submission. Fitzwilliam had only agreed to carry on the remainder of their business in Darcy's house in the intelligence that Elizabeth was visiting with the Gardiners. "I thank you but no. I have to meet the earl soon as may be, and meet his attorney before leaving. I imagine Mrs Darcy is perfectly happy."
"So am I, my friend. You know not how happy I am."
"I am delighted to see you thus, Darcy. You certainly deserve to be happy."
"Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I can now safely say I recommend marriage. You can
follow my example and marry the woman of your choice now."
Fitzwilliam chuckled. "Oh yes! I am free to do so, aren't I? I can take care of any woman now. Problem is, Darce, the woman of my choice cannot marry me."
"Oh I see. The lady you talked to me about."
"The most beautiful and intelligent woman ever to walk the Earth, Darcy. Yet she is not free," he said feelingly.
"Why not kill her husband?" Darcy joked.
Fitzwilliam's eyes darkened. He chuckled, "Believe me, Darcy. That is out of the question."
"A duel, perhaps?" he said teasingly. "You are practically invincible with pistols."
"Unfortunately, the fellow is very well connected," chuckled Fitzwilliam.
"Divorce, then?"
"Not a liberated woman, I am afraid."
"Then I suggest you find a substitute for your lover."
"Oh no, Darcy. That will not do. No other can replace such a woman. But fear not. I shall be content now that I am rich. From now on I shall do as it pleases me, regardless of what people think or feel. I am my own master. I have had enough of dependency, I grant you."
"Well then. You must know you shall have my support should you need any. For the time being, let us plan your settling down at Rosings. It will take you at least a whole month to learn how to run it, so let us start directly."
~•~
Elizabeth's astonishment in hearing the news about Mrs Wickham from her Aunt Gardiner was nothing compare to her distress in learning about Mr Bingley's presence in town and the follies he had been committing. Her family had spared her the sad news since they did not wish to spoil her honeymoon.
Mrs Darcy's brother in law was reported to have been seen in the company of people of remarkably doubtful reputation. Mr Gardiner had been occasionally compelled to look for him at the Slaughter's at Phillips's request, for the manservant had been unable to persuade his Master to quit the place and go home, Bingley's liquor too much surpassing the level of a man's tolerance. Carousing was the lesser of his sins, for Mrs Gardiner had known him to have lost a considerable amount of money gambling over billiards, horses and cards among other things.
What could have sent amiable Mr Bingley into such outrageous comportment, Elizabeth wondered? She could hardly wait to pass the sad reports to her husband. With that purpose in mind she made haste to repair to Darcy house and talk to him. Surely, Darcy would know what to do to help his friend and brother.
Forty-Six
—
Full House
Mr and Mrs Darcy's return home was very much celebrated by Miss Darcy who, as usual, had been left behind at Pemberley. The girl was bored beyond reason of Mrs Annesley's sole company. However, said boredom was soon to be shaken off by recent events concerning her newly acquired relatives, namely the Bennets. The first shock she received was caused by the news regarding Mr Bingley's escapade to London and his many improprieties (needless to say, such intelligence about a gentleman's affairs reached her ears most inadvertently). But in truth, that was nothing compared to the unsettling feeling the knowledge of Mrs Wickham's impending divorce caused in her. Immediately after this information was duly transmitted, she became restless and nervous, as if she were expectant for something terribly odd to happen.
As if that were not enough, Mrs Darcy made arrangements for her sister Jane to spend the rest of the summer at Pemberley. Unfortunately, a large retinue of Elizabeth's nieces and nephews travelled with her. Not that Miss Darcy despised motherhood. On the contrary, nothing would have delighted her more than a new source of enjoyment such as a bunch of children to pass the weary hours at Pemberley. But having been disturbed by the potential restoration to bachelorhood of her old suitor, the young lady's nerves were decidedly on edge, which usually showed in her otherwise pleasant demeanour by an acute discomfort in the presence of those not belonging to her habitual circle.
At length, the so long delayed sisterly visit took place and the caravan of nurses and servants set up camp in the formerly tranquil environment of Pemberley house. Needless to say, Jane's main reason to travel to Pemberley had been to see her beloved sister again. After her husband's sudden departure, she had become weary and thoughtful and not a little vexed. The bloom of her cheeks had faded away and nothing but her children would take her notice, although she was known to have shouted hysterically to one of the nurses regarding a trifling mistake with the children's clothes.
Notwithstanding Elizabeth longed to show the beauties of Derbyshire to her dear old Jane, so many times described by Miss Bingley in the past; now that her beloved sister was there at last, Elizabeth wished Jane would share her problems with her rather than enjoying the views. Elizabeth understood, however, her sister's disposition to silence. After all, a newly wedded lady like her who had been married but two months could hardly be considered the wisest of sources in marriage counsel.
But upon Jane's arrival, the two sisters spent a good part of the day outside; a very much dejected Mr Darcy left to divide his time between the stables and the library. It was during one of these ramblings that Jane was given details of Colonel Fitzwilliam's unexpected inheritance. Jane was amazed, and could not help colouring at the mere mention of his name. From that moment on, she lost all concentration, answering mechanically to the repeated questions of her sister, and though she seemed to be attentive to Elizabeth's rattling about her recent married life, Jane's thoughts were all fixed on Colonel Fitzwilliam. She longed to know what was passing in his mind now that he was a rich man, in what manner he thought of her, and whether, after all that had transpired between them, he still held her in his regard.
"Will Colonel Fitzwilliam be coming to Pemberley do you think?"
"Not this summer. But I imagine Darcy will be visiting him at Rosings Park soon. They must talk about Rosings management."
"Is not your husband a little vexed with the unexpected outcome of the will?"
"Not at all. Quite the contrary, he was surprised he had retained the properties in Scotland and London. Lady Catherine had warned him that should he fail to produce an heir for Rosings Park, he would be deprived of the inheritance upon her death. Apparently, Anne made up her mind to comply with her mother wishes. Still, she kept those properties for Darcy, I suppose, in recognition of his rights."
"An intelligent woman."
"I suppose she was thankful to Darcy. He did not abandon her on her deathbed."
"Still, this is a clear demonstration there was no true attachment between them. To some extent Colonel Fitzwilliam was very lucky for that!" Jane sighed. "He would be purchasing that small estate in Somersetshire he told us about by now had the late Mrs Darcy been more attached to her husband!"
"I suppose you must be right. Colonel Fitzwilliam is very rich now. Rich and grand," Elizabeth sighed too.
Jane shrugged and commented, "I guess he will marry soon, now."
"Fitzwilliam? I cannot picture the sort of woman who might win his heart." In hearing her sister so speaking, Jane could not keep a pang of jealousy from invading her heart. Who did she think she was? Did she expect the man she had flung aside to pine for her for the rest of his life?
Without thinking, with no consideration for words or the feelings of others, Jane most inadvertently let out some of the venom that had been coursing her veins ever since she had learnt of her sister's lover's identity. "Can you not, Lizzy?" she blurted out. No sooner had she uttered the infamous notion than she immediately regretted having failed to hold her tongue. In fact, she had not meant to be mean or rude towards Lizzy. But Jane's bitterness on the loss of both husband and lover had turned her into an impulsive, selfish creature, a characteristic unknown in her till then.
Elizabeth changed colour but said nothing. If Jane knew anything about her past with Fitzwilliam, she would rather not acknowledge it. It was hardly a topic she would like to start.
"Look! There is a carriage on the public road coming towards the house. Come. Let us see who is come," said Elizabeth, endeavouring to change th
e subject of their colloquy and immediately speeding her pace. But her sister was not feeling very well. She found both the talk and the walk in Pemberley woods too much for her present state; for she was now sure she was with child. Still, she had contrived to keep it a secret for the time being, her discomfiture she attributed to the hot weather.
After walking their way back in an unhurried manner, they saw Darcy approaching them with a certain air of urgency. The carriage they had seen on the road had already arrived. Darcy looked pale and unsettled beyond measure.
"Mrs Darcy, may I have a word with you?" the use of so formal an appellation, the clipped tone of his voice, was a clear prelude to some source of distressful disturbance in their lives.
"Your brothers have arrived," he proclaimed.
"My brothers?"
"Yes. Both of them," he hissed.
"Darcy, you know perfectly well I have no brothers!"
"Mr Wickham and Mr Bingley, to be more precise."
Clarification notwithstanding, Elizabeth still bore a look of puzzlement that would have been the envy of Rebecca upon hearing the number of camels she would have to water.
"Mr Wickham!" She echoed. "And Mr Bingley in the bargain?"
"Indeed they are here."
"And what are you going to do about it?" she inquired while her eyes danced on his face in a vain attempt to decipher her husband's intentions.
But Mr Darcy had nothing to hide. He knew how to deal with the likes of Wickham. "I can welcome Bingley. After all he has not done anything to us. But Mr Wickham is not and will never be welcome at Pemberley again. I am perplexed he had the gall to call on us at all."
"Perhaps you should talk to him before jumping to conclusions," cautioned Elizabeth ever so wisely.
Darcy grumbled something undistinguishable to himself.
"Darcy," she said soothingly as she placed her small hand on her husband's arm. She began playing the devil's advocate once more. What a wicked trick for a woman to play on the unaware husband! "Darcy, Mr Wickham would have never risked having come all the way from London for nothing at all. Do you not think he might have had good reasons to do it?"
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