by Wynne Mabry
The next morning, Mr. Collins returned from paying a call at Rosings with the surprising information that the ladies had gone away. He had been told by the housekeeper that they had left in a great hurry after Lady Catherine had learned that a drawing-room was to be held that very Thursday.
It seemed, Elizabeth mused, that Miss de Bourgh’s health was increasing with every moment. Perhaps she had been more discontent than ill.
“She will need to have a court dress made very quickly,” Charlotte Collins observed. “I hope it can be done.”
“A lady of Lady Catherine’s stature will have no difficulty in obtaining whatever she wants,” her husband replied.
Not to mention a lady of such determination, Elizabeth thought. It was easy to see that Lady Catherine was used to getting her own way in all things. Perhaps that was the explanation for Mr. Darcy’s surprising engagement. Had he somehow been pressed into it against his will?
Of course, that would be surprising in itself. He was not the sort of person to succumb to the will of another, not even a person as forceful as his aunt. He had too much of his own forcefulness.
One had to assume that he had been willing. He must have liked the idea of adding to his consequence. That did not suit her ideas of matrimony, but Elizabeth wanted to hope that he would find satisfaction in his marriage. Although there was animosity between them, she would not wish an unhappy marriage upon anybody, but she had the uncomfortable thought that he had failed to give sufficient consideration to his choice.
A Futile Hope
It was amazing how much could be conveyed without actually being said. Mr. Darcy was looking at his sister, who was staring at him. Astonishment, distaste, and concern were all written upon her face. As she looked back at him without saying a word, he heard a carriage rattling by.
“I must congratulate you,” she said at last. There was another pause in which he heard somebody shout in the street. Then she said, “You do mean our cousin Anne? Not somebody else with that name?”
“Yes, our cousin Anne. I have just come back from Rosings, you know.”
“Yes, you have. Of course, it is our cousin. I just wanted to be certain that I understood you properly.”
It was apparent that she somehow knew he had not wanted to marry Anne. They had never directly spoken of it, but she must have picked up on his feelings.
“I thought it would be a suitable marriage,” he said, feeling that some explanation was required. It was a feeble one.
Her reply was equally feeble. “Our aunts will be pleased.”
She said nothing of being pleased herself.
“I hope you like Anne,” he said.
Georgiana was again silent for a moment. He wondered if her inability to be anything other than honest was making it hard for her to answer this question. Her eventual reply was carefully formulated. “I do not really know her very well. We do not see much of each other.”
And they hardly spoke when they did, Mr. Darcy acknowledged to himself. Anne had never taken much interest in her cousins. When they were together, she did not make any particular effort to talk with them, as had been the case on his recent visit. “You will become great friends once the two of you are sisters,” he said, trying to sound as though he believed it.
He was not surprised that Georgiana said nothing in return. Her lack of enthusiasm was only a reflection of his own. She would have been excited by any news which had been joyfully communicated. Her affection for him would have encouraged her to feel as happy as he did. Unfortunately, he was not feeling happy. It had taken him two days to make this announcement, and in that time, he had been feeling more and more regretful.
He made a further effort. “She is bringing her companion to live with us as well. We shall have a house full of ladies. That will be nice for you.”
His sister’s face displayed no expectation of pleasure. Instead, there was surprise in her expression and puzzlement in her tone. “Anne is keeping her companion? Even after her marriage?”
“Yes.” It was an unusual thing for a young wife to desire a companion, but Mr. Darcy had not objected to Anne’s insistence upon this one thing. If Mrs. Jenkinson was an important part of her comfort, then the lady must certainly be included in their future plans. Besides, she was very useful in seeing to all Anne’s needs, and she understood them better than Mr. Darcy could. In fact, he was relieved to have somebody else assume that responsibility.
“I hope you will not mind having so much female company,” Georgiana said.
“It will be fine. Anyway, I can always go to my club.”
That remark clearly did nothing to give her confidence. If anything, she looked even more doubtful. He was inclined to feel the same. A man on the verge of marriage should not be thinking about finding refuge in his club.
He tried another approach. “I am acquainted with a man who has five daughters. That is even more ladies, and he seems quite content.” As soon as he had said this, Mr. Darcy thought of Mr. Bennet’s indifference to his family. It suggested that he was not very content at all. Of course, he had to tolerate a ridiculous wife and several badly-behaved daughters. At least the two eldest must be some consolation.
“It must be nice to have four sisters,” Georgiana said, with more interest than she had shown in the prospect of acquiring one of her own.
“That would depend upon the sisters,” he observed, wondering how Elizabeth felt about having three who were so unladylike. They were straying from the topic though, and into one which was unsettling for him.
“I suppose it would,” she said in a gloomy voice.
“I am looking forward to being married,” he said with a false cheerfulness, which was meant to persuade himself as much as his sister, but he saw that she was no more convinced than he was.
Feeling that his announcement had fallen flat, Mr. Darcy said, “Perhaps you would like to go and share this news with Mrs. Annesley.”
His sister went, but she dragged herself out of the room rather than rushing away with excitement for telling her companion. He remained where he was, thinking of something else that had been in her expression – fear for the future. She had probably been thinking that all their comfort must be at an end. That was his fear as well. Why had he been so stupid?
This union was not going to give him any consolation for the one he had failed to achieve. Richard had been right that he would regret his actions, and it had not taken very long. Now Georgiana’s disappointment was cause for more regret. He had been an idiot not to think how his choice might affect her.
If only he could have announced a different engagement. If Elizabeth had accepted him, he would have relayed his news joyfully within minutes of returning home, and Georgiana would have been delighted for him. Instead, it looked as though his rash behaviour was going to make both of them unhappy.
Could this all be undone? Anne had not once looked as though she cared about marrying him. If it were up to her alone, she would probably agree that they could forget all about the engagement. It was Lady Catherine who would be difficult, and unfortunately, Anne was always guided by her mother in everything.
He had to try though. It was too late today, but first thing tomorrow, he would go back to Rosings and make this outrageous request. Perhaps his aunt could somehow be convinced, although he had not much confidence of it.
To his astonishment, this plan was made unnecessary by the appearance of that very lady in his house about an hour later.
“I have come to collect Georgiana,” she said.
“Collect her for what?”
“She must be fitted for a court dress immediately.”
“Why must it be immediately?”
“She is to be presented at court on Thursday.”
“Three days from now! Why did you not mention this sooner? Or think to discuss it with me first. I was not intending to bring Georgiana out for another year. She is only sixteen.”
“There was no time for discussion,” his aunt said
dismissively. “And I did not mention it sooner because I only learned yesterday that there is to be a drawing room at last. With the queen being so lax in her duties, there is no telling when the next one may be, so I thought it best to take advantage of this opportunity.”
“The royal family has had a great deal to endure,” Mr. Darcy said in Queen Charlotte’s defense.
“That is no excuse,” his aunt declared with an intolerance which did not bode well for his own request. But that would have to wait for a better time.
“I still do not see how Georgiana can be presented on such short notice. Surely it is too late to make an application.”
“Have you forgotten that your uncle is a great friend of the chamberlain? He has already been to see him, and it is all settled. Anne and Georgiana are both to be presented on Thursday.”
“Anne as well. Will that not be too much exertion for her?”
“Not at all. You have seen how well she is these days.”
Mr. Darcy had seen that she was in reasonable health, but still not especially strong. He was dubious, but that was not his choice. Nor was the matter of his sister’s presentation, apparently. Everything had already been settled by the request of such a favour. His aunt’s presumption had made his preferences irrelevant. Georgiana must appear at court and then afterwards make her come out in society.
Still, it was not such a bad idea. As she was not pleased about his marriage, she would probably appreciate the chance to go out and have a wider circle of acquaintance. And she would be seventeen in the autumn.
“Is Anne with you now?” he asked, looking out into the hall, but not seeing anybody else.
“She is in the carriage with your aunt Matlock. I thought it would be quicker for them to wait rather than coming in. I have already asked for Georgiana to be summoned.”
“She will be surprised,” Mr. Darcy said.
“She will be delighted,” his aunt insisted. “What girl does not dream of her come out? Ah, there you are, Georgiana. You must collect your cloak and come with me at once. I suppose that dress will have to do. There is no time for you to change.”
Georgiana looked warily at her brother.
“You are to be presented to the queen on Thursday,” he explained.
“Am I to be out in society then? I was not expecting it. This is very sudden.”
“It was a whim of your aunt’s.”
“Not a whim,” Lady Catherine said. “It was a matter of seizing upon an opportunity. Now come, my dear. We have no time to waste.”
She began to pull a terrified-looking Georgiana out of the room. Mr. Darcy quickly caught his sister’s hand. “I know this is all very last minute, but everything will be fine. You can do this very well.”
She smiled and looked a little less afraid in the second before Lady Catherine whisked her away. Mr. Darcy went to tell Mrs. Annesley of this development.
“I shall help her to practice walking for the occasion,” that practical lady said. “Two days will be plenty of time. Indeed, if anything, I think it better not to overprepare.”
Her calm perspective soothed his worries, and he felt confident that Georgiana would do well under her guidance.
His sister returned several hours later in remarkably good spirits. She was keen to tell Mrs. Annesley about her visit to the dressmaker who had agreed to provide two court dresses by Wednesday, and ball gowns as well. No doubt the cost would be exorbitant, Mr. Darcy thought, but that was only fair for an order on such short notice, and he did not mind his share of it.
The other ladies came in for a short visit, and he took this opportunity to ask Lady Catherine to come into his study for a word. His request was put very awkwardly, but he doubted that the greatest eloquence would have made a difference.
“Absolutely not,” she declared angrily. “I am shocked that you dare to make such a suggestion. An engagement is a commitment which cannot be broken.”
“They sometimes are broken, and often for the benefit of all parties.”
“Not in our family. It would be too disgraceful.”
“Nobody need know of it.”
“They already do. I came across at least half a dozen of my friends today and shared the news with them. And I told Mr. and Mrs. Collins, and her sister, and Miss Bennet.”
Mr. Darcy wondered what Elizabeth had thought upon hearing that he had immediately become engaged to somebody else after asking her. That information had probably lowered her opinion of him even further.
“We shall say no more of this,” Lady Catherine declared. “The wedding must go ahead.”
Mr. Darcy saw dismally that this was the end of his rather futile hope. He could outright refuse to marry Anne, but that went against his sense of honour. A promise had been given and must be upheld. He returned to the drawing room where his future wife paid not the slightest attention to him.
An Error is Corrected
The next morning, Mr. Darcy went to visit Mr. Bingley.
“I have come to ask you to do two things,” he said going directly to the purpose of his visit. “The first is to stand up with me on the occasion of my wedding, which is to take place in a month.”
Mr. Bingley beamed with joy. “Of course I will,” he said. “It will be both a pleasure and a great honour. May I ask to whom you are engaged?”
“To my cousin, Miss de Bourgh. As my family has always desired.”
Mr. Bingley looked puzzled now. “I do not understand. You have often said that you would not go along with their wishes in that matter.”
“Something has lately happened to cause a change in my intentions. I must marry, and as a love match is impossible, I have decided that I might as well marry Anne. It will please my relatives, and I shall have a docile wife, as well as a great addition to my fortune.”
Mr. Bingley’s mouth fell open. “But you do not care about fortune,” he said after a moment.
“I do not, but I shall not mind being excessively wealthy. It will be a consolation for a loveless match.” He looked at his friend’s stunned expression. “Not in the way you are thinking. I have not changed that drastically, but it occurs to me that I can embark on a course of worthwhile projects to enhance the lives of others and give my own some meaning. You spoke of pleasure, Bingley, so I should make it clear that I do not anticipate feeling any pleasure on the day of my wedding. My request is not exactly an honour either. In truth, I am begging you to support me in my misery.”
“If you are miserable, then why are you getting married? I am at a loss to understand any of this.”
“To tell the truth, I made the offer when I was feeling peevish about something else. It is impossible to go back on it now, so I shall just have to make the best of things.”
“I am sorry,” Mr. Bingley said.
“I appreciate your condolences,” Mr. Darcy replied sarcastically.
Mr. Bingley quickly changed the subject. “What was the second thing you wanted me to do for you?”
“Go to Hertfordshire. If you still love Miss Bennet, go and tell her.”
His friend looked stunned again. “But you told me that I would regret making such an unequal match. And you were certain that she did not love me anyway.”
“Now I am convinced that she does. It is difficult to explain, but I have reason to believe that I was quite wrong about her feelings.”
“You really think I should marry her? You no longer object to her connections?”
“I very much hope that you will marry her. One of us should be lucky enough to be happy in love. Will you go?”
“I will. This very minute.” Bingley’s face was suffused with joy. The sort of joy which Mr. Darcy had bitterly accepted that he would never feel.
“Unfortunately, you will have to wait a while. She is currently in London, and I do not know her direction, but I understand that she will be returning to Hertfordshire in another week or two.”
“She is in London? How do you know?”
“Her sister told m
e. At least that is how I know she is still here. Truthfully, she has been in town for some time. I have to confess that I intentionally concealed that from you.”
“How long has she been here?”
“Since the beginning of January. It was wrong of me not to inform you, and I am very sorry for it.”
“You were thinking of my best interests,” Mr. Bingley conceded. “I cannot fault you for that.”
“I did want what was best for you, but it was not for me to decide how you were to be happy.”
“You must not reproach yourself. I forgive you, Darcy, but tell me, what did you say to Miss Bennet when you saw her.”
“I did not see her. I only heard that she was in town.”
“From whom?”
Mr. Darcy hesitated to confess the sins of others.
“I believe I can guess. It was Caroline and Louisa. Did she call upon them?”
“She did.”
“And they said nothing to me. Did they return the call?”
“I believe Miss Bingley went to visit her once.”
“Then they dropped the acquaintance, did they? That must have been very upsetting for Miss Bennet. I am not sure if I shall forgive my sisters for that slight. And she must have thought that I knew of her presence and could not be bothered to acknowledge her. It is distressing to think what her feelings must have been.”
“I believe she was quite heartbroken,” Mr. Darcy confessed. “There is much for which I have to atone.”
“Then I cannot wait another week or two. I cannot bear to know that she believes me to be uncaring. I must see her at once. Where is she staying?”
“In Gracechurch Street. With her aunt and uncle. I do not know the precise direction, unfortunately. You could ask your sisters.”
“I doubt that will be of much use. I would not put it past them to pretend that they have forgotten. Or they will waste time trying to talk me out of visiting her. Perhaps I should just ride to Hertfordshire and ask the Bennets instead.”
“That is rather a long way to go.”
“Maybe I could go to Gracechurch Street and ask about.”