A Hasty Decision

by Wynne Mabry

  After supper, he danced with Jane, and then Mary, to Elizabeth’s surprise. She was not certain what to make of that. Perhaps he was wanting to show that he did not despise her family after all. Then she saw the furious expression on his wife’s face when he took Kitty to the next dance, and she guessed it all. No doubt Mrs. Darcy, who had been exceptionally cold to Jane and Elizabeth, had forbidden her husband to dance with the Bennets, so he had danced with all four of them. It was dreadfully contrary of him, and perhaps very reckless, but she appreciated that it was also a demonstration of loyalty to his friendships.

  Mired in Marital Misery

  “Caroline and Louisa were very disappointed in you, Georgiana,” Anne said when they were in the carriage on their way back to London. “They felt that you were not as friendly to them as usual.”

  “That is not true,” Georgiana said indignantly. “I treated them the same as always. If anything, I talked to them more than usual because they would keep forcing themselves upon me.”

  “It may have seemed like forcing to you, but that was because you were determined to ignore them. They both felt very strongly the loss of their former intimacy with you. Caroline told me that she was exceedingly distressed at being cast aside because of your obsession with Miss Bennet.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Mr. Darcy said, allowing his impatience to show. “Nobody was cast aside. If anybody is obsessed about this, it is Miss Bingley.”

  “Caroline is not obsessed. She is deeply concerned about the situation. She agrees with me that Georgiana has already begun to adopt something of Miss Bennet’s pert manners and brazenness.”

  “Elizabeth is not brazen,” Georgiana cried angrily. “You and Miss Bingley are just determined to hate her.”

  Anne addressed Mr. Darcy. “You see. This rudeness is the result of Miss Bennet’s influence.”

  “If I am rude, it is your fault rather than Elizabeth’s, because you are so vexing,” Georgiana cried.

  “I believe that was honest speaking rather than rudeness,” Mr. Darcy said to his wife. “You do seem determined to think badly of Miss Bennet.”

  “For very good reasons, which you seem incapable of comprehending. She is an unsuitable friend for an impressionable young girl, and a very bad influence on Georgiana. Caroline and Louisa think so too.”

  Mr. Darcy thought that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were a bad influence upon his wife. “I wish you would not discuss our private matters with others,” he said, trying to keep up the calm manner which he had resolved to maintain.

  “It was not exactly a private matter, and they were only concerned for Georgiana’s welfare. They agree with me that she should not be friends with Miss Bennet.”

  “We have discussed this nonsense already, and you know my feelings on the subject perfectly well. There is nothing untoward about Miss Bennet’s behaviour, and no harm in Georgiana’s friendship with her.”

  “Caroline thinks there is a great deal of harm in it. She is concerned that you are blind to the danger because you have a great admiration for Miss Bennet.”

  “What a strange thing to say. It sounds to me as though Caroline Bingley is trying to stir up trouble.”

  “She did not say anything that was not already obvious. You do keep talking about Miss Bennet as though she is a model of perfection when she is nothing of the sort.”

  “I have barely ever spoken of her at all, and the last time was when you raised the subject in the first place. Nor have I said anything about perfection, but yes, I do admire her character and nature, and I consider her to be a good example for Georgiana. I do not care what Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst think or how much they agree with you. This really is none of their business. Do you tell them everything?” he asked with asperity.

  “They are my closest friends.”

  “That does not mean you need to tell them all of our private concerns. I do not tell their brother that I am heartily ashamed of having a petty wife, nor do I ask him to agree with me that your manners are deplorable.”

  Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson both gasped in shock.

  Mr. Darcy added, “And I hope you will be too ashamed to tell Miss Bingley that. I do not desire her to know all my thoughts.”

  “I shall tell her what I choose. It is very comforting that somebody cares about me, and as my closest friend, she is entitled to know all my concerns.”

  “She is not entitled to know mine.” But Mr. Darcy had no doubt that his words would be repeated. Not that it would make much difference anyway. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst must already be aware of the wretched state of his marriage. Whatever Anne had not directly told them would be obvious to such keen observers as they were. Indeed, it might not be long before all his acquaintance guessed how things stood. If this past week was anything to judge by, Anne was not likely to make any effort at keeping up appearances this winter.

  The remainder of their journey was uncomfortable. Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson both glared icily at Mr. Darcy. He was chiding himself for having lost his temper enough to be so open in his opinion of his wife. Still, he did not especially regret it. She might benefit from knowing what sort of impression she made upon others. And really, he could not put up with her constantly behaving as though her opinion was the only correct one and instructing others to abide by it.

  Unfortunately, her stubborn dislike of Jane and Elizabeth was very likely to create some problems in the future. The two families would be much together when the Bingleys came to London, and Mr. Darcy was not going to give up that pleasure for himself or his sister, no matter how much his wife protested.

  When the carriage arrived home, he could not bear to go inside with the miserable creature his wife had become. “I am going to take a walk to stretch my legs,” he said. “Would you like to join me, Georgiana?”

  “I would,” his sister replied emphatically. “I do not feel inclined to be indoors.”

  “I am sorry if I was rude to Anne,” she said as they strode away. “She is so provoking though. I could not bear to hear her criticism of Elizabeth.”

  “I am all in favor of speaking up in defense of friends. You were not exactly rude either. Just forthright, which is just what I have been encouraging. I am the one who was rude. It was probably foolish of me, but I quite understand what you mean about her being provoking. I am sorry that she is being so difficult about your friendship with Jane and Elizabeth.”

  “I would not mind that so much if she were not also trying to push Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst upon me. To be honest, I do not like them. I never really did, and I have an even worse opinion of them since learning that they tried to keep Mr. Bingley from marrying Jane.”

  “I did too,” he felt compelled to say. “I also told Bingley that he could do better as to connection and fortune. And I persuaded him that she did not have any genuine feeling for him.” He saw his sister look at him in surprise. “I really thought that was the case. Her mother gave me the idea that she only cared about connection, and I was convinced of it after observing her, but it seems that I had an unreasonable confidence in my own powers of observation.”

  “I have never thought that you could do any wrong.”

  “Oh, I can be very wrong. I certainly was about Jane and Bingley.”

  “But you do not mind now that he married her?”

  “I am very glad that he did. Indeed, I recommended it to him when I realised that I had been wrong about everything. But the fact is that I was as guilty of meddling as Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.”

  “No, you are not as guilty because you saw your mistake, and you are glad that he is happy. You do not think only of connection like they do.”

  “Not now. I did once, but then I came to see that love was more important.”

  “Yet you married Anne. I am sorry if it is impertinent of me to say so, but I still cannot understand that.”

  “I do not think it impertinent. I am pleased that you and I can talk openly about so many things. The truth is that I wanted somebody else,
and she would not have me. I was angry, and thinking that nothing really mattered, I made a stupid decision. By the time I came to my senses, it was too late.”

  “I cannot imagine anybody not wanting you.”

  “Oh, she had excellent reasons for it. I was furious at the time, but now I can see that she was quite right to turn me down. I did not treat her as I should. Unfortunately, it was a lesson bitterly learned, and now you are suffering for my mistakes.”

  “I am not suffering. Just a little uncomfortable. I shall try harder not to provoke Anne, and then things will be better.”

  “I hope they will, but you are not really the cause of any problems. I shall have to see what I can do to keep her from criticizing your friends and trying to stand in the way of your choices.”

  After they had walked back home, he decided to address that matter at once, asking Anne to come into his study for a few minutes of private conversation. Although reluctant, she complied, perhaps fearing that he might insult her in front of others again.

  “I want to make it clear that you are not to insult my friends or slight them,” he said. “I expect to see a great deal of the Bingleys and Miss Bennet in the next few months. They will be living nearby and will probably be in our home very often. As we have discussed before, it is your duty to treat my guests with respect and civility.”

  “If I must,” she said with disgruntlement. “But I still think that you are foolish to associate with them and to allow Georgiana to do so. Aside from Miss Bennet’s glaring faults, I would have expected you to care more about her lack of respectability.”

  “Miss Bennet and Mrs. Bingley are two of the most respectable people I know,” he said firmly. “I do not hold them accountable for their sister’s behaviour, and as she has been properly married, there was never any scandal to the family. Now, I do not want to hear anything more on the subject. You must realise that there is nothing you can say to make me change my mind, so any argument is pointless. Indeed, your perseverance in this matter is only causing disharmony between us. I am happy to oblige you in a great many ways, but I shall not allow you to meddle in my sister’s friendships. I will not have you trying to choose Georgiana’s friends for her or ruining any pleasure of hers.”

  “You are much too indulgent of her. It does not do her good to always have her own way.”

  “She does not always have her own way, but I do think that some indulgence is a suitable reward for her affectionate nature.”

  “She used to be affectionate, but I cannot agree that she is now. I do not like her recent behaviour toward me.”

  “I am sure she feels the same way about your behaviour toward her. There is no need for you to be so petty and interfering.” Realizing that he was raising his voice again, he lowered it. “Perhaps you might try just having a pleasant conversation with her. I am sure that with a little effort, the two of you could get along very well.”

  “She is the one who needs to make the effort,” Anne said.

  “Really? Can you not see that you are the one creating difficulties with your constant complaints and criticisms?”

  “That is your fault. I would not have anything to complain about if you would only be more reasonable. You are making some very questionable choices, and as your wife, I have a right to point out the error of your ways.”

  Mr. Darcy gave up. It did not seem possible to get anything through to her. She was moody for the rest of the day and churlish at dinner. At least she did not say anything more about Elizabeth, but there was no shortage of little things for her to gripe about. It was another unpleasant evening, and Mr. Darcy felt very concerned that his sister could not bear much more of this. He could send her to live elsewhere, but why should she be the one deprived of her home? It was Anne who made them miserable. She should be the one to go.

  By the end of the meal, his mind was made up. He did not care if it was wrong to desire to rid himself of an unwanted wife. For his sister’s sake, he must explore the possibility of obtaining an annulment.

  An Awkward Conversation

  There were times when Mr. Darcy was particularly grateful for his position in the world, and this was one of them. Instead of beginning his quest for an annulment with the vicar of his parish, he was able to go higher and discuss his situation in a personal conversation with the bishop.

  Unfortunately, the response was much as he had anticipated.

  “There were only the two instances?” the bishop asked after Mr. Darcy had stumbled through an uncomfortable explanation of the circumstances.

  “Yes, but in each case, she suffered from extreme distress. It seemed to me that any further attempt would be detrimental to her health.”

  “I appreciate that you had her well-being in mind; however, two attempts are simply not sufficient proof of her incapacity to consummate the marriage. A mental incapacity is a more complicated thing to prove than a physical one. In order to establish this with any certainty, you would first have to make a greater effort.”

  “I do not wish to force myself upon her.”

  “No, I would not counsel you to do that. It is within your right, of course, but I agree with your opposition to any violent methods. What I would suggest is that you gradually accustom your wife to the idea. Talk to her about her duties, and perhaps spend a little time in her chamber each night, but without any intimacy at first. Allow her to grow used to your presence before attempting anything more, and when you do proceed further, be gentle and understanding.”

  “That is exactly what I did in the first place, and it did not work.”

  “You cannot assume that it will not succeed eventually. Nor should you give up too easily. And quite simply, an annulment cannot possibly be considered under the current circumstances. Even if your wife is truly incapable of intimacy, then that fact must be well established.”

  “There is one problem with your advice. At my wife’s request, I have given my promise not to enter her bedchamber.”

  “There can be no validity to such a request. A wife has no right to deny her husband. You must explain to her that it is reasonable to consider your promise as null and void.”

  “It might be reasonable to some, but I consider it as breaking my word.”

  “Did you only promise not to enter her chamber?”

  “If you are suggesting that the use of a different room would not constitute breaking my promise, I cannot agree. I believe her words were meant as a euphemism for the deed itself. Incidentally, she refers to it as that nasty thing.”

  “That is indeed unfortunate, but I am not without hope that she can be brought to see reason. I shall direct your vicar to have a conversation with her, and in particular to make it clear that she cannot hold you to this promise. Once he has helped her to understand her duty, I hope you will act as I have advised. Treat her gently, but with firmness as well, and help her to overcome her fear.”

  “And if she does not?”

  “Then there would be grounds for an annulment, but I would only consider it if all recourse has failed. As I said, you must first establish that sufficient attempt has been made without any success.”

  “Is there any set number of times she has to scream to constitute sufficient attempt?” Mr. Darcy asked bitterly.

  “I must ask you not to give way to anger,” the bishop said reprovingly. “You must understand the importance of governing your feelings.”

  “I do,” Mr. Darcy said repentantly. “Indeed, I have been making an effort not to be bitter, and with success for the most part. I must apologise for making you the object of my sarcasm this morning.”

  “Well, better me than your wife. I do understand how difficult things have been for you. I shall ask the vicar to advise you as well.”

  So much for avoiding that indignity, Mr. Darcy thought. But it was just one more thing to bear, and not a very great one when compared to everything else. The vicar’s advice might even help his efforts to remain a civil man in spite of his troubles.

 
Still, he went home feeling even more troubled than ever. This was not going to be easy. His only chance of getting an annulment lay in a direction which was as repulsive to him as it was to his wife. Even worse was the possibility that the vicar would succeed in persuading Anne to overcome her fear and engage in marital relations. Then he would never be rid of her. That was the truth of it, he admitted to himself. He wanted her gone for his own sake as much as Georgiana’s, and he did not care if it was wrong to seek this relief for personal benefit.

  The End of the Bed

  The vicar of Mr. Darcy’s parish came to call a couple of days later. Anne was summoned to join them in the study, where they could be most private. She came to the room in company with Mrs. Jenkinson, who looked displeased when told that her presence was not required.

  “I shall be fine with the vicar,” Anne said, looking upon him as a welcome visitor; however, her face grew pale once her companion had left the room and she learned what business he had come upon.

  Her protests that she could not bring herself to do something so disgusting were met with a lecture concerning her duty of procreation and her husband’s need for an heir.

  “You must desire children yourself,” Mr. Perkins said in a comforting tone.

  Anne did not reply, but she looked at him with disinterest. It did not surprise Mr. Darcy to see this evidence that she had no interest in children or even any concern about the eventual inheritance of their properties. Her perceptions did not extend beyond the most selfish interests.

  “Anyway, it is your marital duty, and your husband has a right to expect it,” Mr. Perkins said more forcefully. “You may not deny him.”