by Wynne Mabry
“And I think myself entitled to stay away. Your disrespect to my friends is the same as disrespecting me.”
“You must be there. Indeed, you will be. Mother will see to that.”
Mr. Darcy was very much inclined to prove that Lady Catherine did not have that much power over him, but he preferred to have his friends invited. Georgiana had to write their names upon the card though. Anne stubbornly refused, even though she had been unable to stop him taking one from a pile that was conveniently sitting in the open.
After he came back from visiting the Bingleys, Lady Catherine took her turn at berating him.
“How dare you take an invitation card,” she cried in outrage.
“How dare I invite people to my own ball? How dare you decide that I may not.”
“Anne and I were responsible for making the guest list, and we did not choose to have Mr. and Mrs. Bingley or Miss Bennet. You cannot give them that card you took.”
“I already have. It is too late for debating the matter,” he said. “Besides, there is nothing to debate. Ultimately, I shall decide who is to be in my house.”
You are behaving very questionably these days,” she complained. “You really should have dropped their acquaintance a long time ago. I suppose you did not like to do so with them living across the street, but I urge you to consider giving them up after this season.”
“I will certainly not give up my friends. That will never happen, no matter how much you might try to persuade me to it. I wish you would not encourage Anne to be rude to them either. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst are bad enough. And really,” he added, turning to his wife, “if you think that I should give up Bingley, then you should do the same and give up your friends since they are also connected to the Bennets by their brother’s marriage.”
After that exchange, there was a frosty atmosphere in the house for the next few days. Mr. Darcy, Georgiana, and Mrs. Annesley took to going across the street more than ever. They were particularly glad of having that refuge on the morning of the ball when Lady Catherine’s voice rang through the house, imperiously giving instruction to the servants. The three of them hasted to the Bingleys’ house at the first opportunity and stayed there for the rest of the day.
In this abode rather than their own, they found a familial atmosphere. In perfect comfort, they talked all together or in smaller groups, they looked at books or magazines, and they played at backgammon.
Mr. Darcy sat down for several games with Elizabeth, whom he discovered to be rather a reckless player.
“I could never resist the temptation to make daring moves when playing games,” she said after losing badly to his more cautious style of play. “Sometimes I pay the price for my risk, but my strategy often works very well.”
“You call that a strategy, do you?” he asked jovially.
She laughed. “Just wait and see.”
Her confidence was justified. That initial loss was succeeded by three straight wins. Mr. Darcy kept shaking his head in mock ruefulness as the dice rolls went in her favour over and again while his safer moves did him no good.
It was rather like his life, he thought. His policy of appeasement only created temporary peace until the next confrontation. There was no real safety in it. Eventually he gave way to his anger, and in between, Anne was only becoming more inclined to expect to have her own way in everything.
Still, he took the safer course that evening. Although he wanted to repeat the risk he had taken at the Netherfield ball and dance with Elizabeth, he decided against angering his wife in that way. His partners were various high-ranking ladies whom he singled out as a host should.
He did spend quite a bit of time talking with Elizabeth though. Disapproval was not going to keep him from enjoying the company of his friends, especially her. He wondered if perhaps she guessed why he did not ask her to dance.
Elizabeth did guess, and she thought it wise of him not to provoke his wife. Undoubtedly, his association with her was already the cause of contention. She was glad to know that he was prepared to protect his own and his sister’s friendships from his wife’s interference, which had been proven by the matter of the invitation, but she also felt the importance of not adversely affecting his marriage.
To that end, she had already decided not to go to Pemberley that summer. The Bingleys were going, and she had been invited as well, but her aunt and uncle had also issued another invitation for her to go on holiday with them. It was the perfect excuse for keeping from Mr. Darcy. Nobody could attribute her absence to anything other than a love of adventure and affection for those two dear relatives.
After that, she would have to decide what to do if her sister and Mr. Bingley wished for her to join them in London next year. There was a lot she would be giving up if she stayed away. Georgiana most of all, and other friendships like that of Colonel Fitzwilliam and some of his friends. Evenings like this one, which was very agreeable despite the hostile looks she had received from Mrs. Darcy and Lady Catherine, as well as Mr. Bingley’s sisters. The chance to see the Gardiners more frequently, and the continuing closeness with her own sister which meant so much to her.
On top of all that, she did not want to desert Mr. Darcy when he was so much in need of sympathetic friends.
New Prospects
“You cannot really have done that,” Elizabeth cried in between laughing. “You must be making it all up.”
“I assure you that I am not,” said the good-natured young man, who was smiling broadly. “I know it sounds like a far-fetched tale, but every word is true. Upon my honour.”
“Then I must believe it. I do not doubt your honour.”
This honourable gentleman was Colonel Bryce, and he was one of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s friends. Elizabeth had often danced with him and he frequently called at the Bingley’s house, where his agreeable nature and amusing manner made him very welcome.
Jane and Mr. Bingley were happy to consider him a friend, but they had lately begun to hope that he might be something more.
“I do believe he has a great liking for Elizabeth,” Mr. Bingley observed to his wife later that day. “He is very much like her in temperament. I think they would suit each other very well.”
“So do I,” Jane agreed. “And he does seem to admire her.”
“He is not rich, but I understand his circumstances to be more than adequate for the support of a wife. I suppose your mother will be disappointed though.”
“Mama can just put up with disappointment,” Jane said firmly. “Colonel Bryce is an excellent man, and Lizzy does not care about wealth. It is her happiness that matters, not our mother’s aspirations, and he seems like the very person to make her happy.”
“Well, we shall see what happens. We should not say anything to Lizzy. I do not want her to feel any pressure from us. She may not like him in that way. If he does make her an offer, she must feel free to answer as she chooses. I hope that she may eventually have a marriage as happy as ours. Nothing less will do.”
“You are a very good man,” his wife said affectionately. “I hated it dreadfully when Mama tried to force Lizzy to marry Mr. Collins.”
“I should think so. I only met him the once, and he was a dreadful man. Thank goodness I do not have to have him as my brother.”
“Yes, indeed. I am still sorry that you have Mr. Wickham as one.”
“I would bear a great deal more for you. And fortunately, he does live in the north. It was clever of Darcy to think of that.”
“Do you think that perhaps Mr. Darcy is not very happy in his marriage?” Jane asked. “He and Mrs. Darcy rarely say anything to each other, and Georgiana does not hide the fact that she does not like her sister.”
“I know he is not happy. He never intended to marry her, even though his family wanted it, but then all of a sudden he did. I never understood why. He actually told me that he expected to be miserable.”
“How awful.”
“I suppose he gave in to the claims of family. I wish he had not. Mrs. D
arcy is like a heavy rain cloud over all our gatherings. It makes me especially glad that I did not let my sisters ruin my happiness.”
“They wanted you to marry Georgiana, did they not?”
“Yes. At least she would not have been a shrewish wife, but that matters not. As nice as she is, there was nobody for me but my dear Jane. I am very lucky that my life is perfect now.”
“Is it?” his wife asked. “Do you not think there is room for a little more happiness?”
“I would not object to being happier, but I do not see how that could be.” Then he observed the pinkness of her cheeks and cried, “Do you mean that we are to have an addition to our lives?”
She smiled. “I think so. It is very early still, but there are some signs.”
“We should have a doctor in,” he cried. “You must have the best of care.”
“In due time,” she said. “Let us be certain of it first.”
He was persuaded not to rush out and find a doctor immediately, but he was so solicitous of his wife for the rest of the day that Elizabeth could not help but see that something was up. Mr. Bingley was a devoted husband, but he did not usually fuss so much about Jane putting her feet up or ask her how she was feeling every few minutes. As Elizabeth studied the pair with curiosity, they both blushed. He then blurted out the news, or at least the possibility of it.
A possibility was enough for them to talk over the prospective event at length. Jane thought October would be the month, and Mr. Bingley thought Eton would be the school if the child were a boy. In the nearer future, a nurse must be engaged, and a nursery furnished. There was a christening to think of as well. They were in agreement that Elizabeth must be godmother.
“And Darcy must be godfather,” Mr. Bingley said. “If you approve, of course.”
“I can think of nobody better,” Jane assured him.
“Perhaps he will soon have a child too, and they can be friends.”
Elizabeth hoped that they would not mention that idea to Mr. Darcy when the time came for sharing their news. As it was, his happiness for them was likely to be tempered by the sadness of knowing that he was not likely to have children himself.
Mr. Darcy was resigned to that, but lately he had another sadness upon his mind. He had also noticed that Colonel Bryce greatly admired Elizabeth, and that she undoubtedly liked him very well. The two of them often talked and laughed together, and she always looked pleased to see him.
“I suppose you are hating me for introducing them,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said one evening, and Mr. Darcy realised that he had been staring.
He quickly looked away. “Quite the opposite,” he said. “I wish her every happiness, and he is the sort of man who would suit her very well. I would rather see her in a fulfilling marriage than alone or unhappily married, heaven forbid. If she marries him, I will rejoice for her.”
An Eligible Offer
Elizabeth had also seen that Colonel Bryce admired her, but she did not think it was anything more than a very ordinary sort of admiration. A cheerful and intelligent man, he was similar in nature to his friend Colonel Fitzwilliam, whose company she had enjoyed in Kent the previous year. She thought that Mr. Darcy’s cousin had also admired her a little bit, but there was never any question of his feelings being more significant. As a second son, even of an earl, he could not afford to marry without some consideration of fortune. He had once mentioned this in what she thought was a gentle hint not to form any expectations of him.
Colonel Bryce was also a second son, and not of the aristocracy either, so it was natural for her to assume that his circumstances were no better. This did not bother her though. Indeed, it suited her perfectly. Although she felt the wrongness of having feelings for a married man, they made it impossible for her to think of marrying anybody else. This made a gentleman of limited means an ideal friend for her, and he, in turn, would never be troubled by any unreasonable expectations on her part.
She was under the impression that her manner had conveyed this to him, and that he was glad to have it so. The two of them could share amusing stories and laugh together with the ease of an uncomplicated friendship. Even if she never married, Elizabeth felt that she could be quite happy having the company of good friends and the pleasure of living in a harmonious household. Mr. Bingley had recently emphasised to her that she would always be welcome in his home.
“Of course, you will very likely marry before long, but I want you to know that we are in no hurry to lose your company” he had added. “I hope you will be fortunate enough to receive an eligible offer, but I encourage you to make the choice which is right for you. I certainly would not want you to accept any offer out of some misplaced idea of being a burden upon us. That could never be the case.”
She had appreciated his kindness in making her welcome clear. If marriage was not in her future, remaining with the Bingleys was just what she would like. Her ideas of keeping away from Mr. Darcy could not be implemented without disappointing too many people who were dear to her, as well as causing them to wonder.
Of course, that would mean frequently seeing Mr. Darcy. Could she go on being his friend year after year without becoming bitter and regretful? Should she? Was it dreadfully wrong of her to continue their friendship?
Perhaps she ought to consider other offers. Perhaps if she forced herself to forget an impossible love, her heart would be open to finding another. That would be the proper thing to do.
So she went out into the world smiling and laughing as though she had not a care in the world and certainly not a broken heart. By means of friendships and entertainments, she tried to distract herself from feelings that she should not have. Her cheerful manner had already brought her an unexpected popularity. With her circle of friends ever increasing, she might eventually meet a man whom she could love. Not just yet, of course. It would take some time to recover, but she had to adjust herself to the idea.
And then one evening Colonel Bryce dropped a hint which made her realise that her assumptions had been wrong. He was talking of his home in Devon and his fondness for the county.
“I think you would like it,” he said, and his tone revealed that he was not just recommending a place of beauty to a potential visitor. There was a note of hopefulness in it.
He talked of his family next, and again there was the suggestion that she would meet them one day and the hope that she would like them. Two sisters were mentioned, and an elder brother. Elizabeth had not been wrong in presuming this gentleman’s existence, and he would one day inherit a property which sounded like it was similar in size to her father’s estate.
Her error had been in assuming that the colonel only had a small income, but now she learned that he had recently inherited a sizeable sum from an uncle. It was his intention to use a large part of this money to purchase a modest estate which bordered his father’s. His enthusiasm to live in close proximity to his family echoed the affection with which he had just spoken of them. It seemed that he could afford to marry, and his manner of describing his plans suggested that she was his choice.
Now she had to ask herself if she could love him. She already liked him very much. His qualities were admirable and his company exceptionally agreeable. The wife of such a man would have a very happy home life, much like Jane and Mr. Bingley. It sounded as though she could like his family as well. He had spoken of them with the greatest affection, and his descriptions of them suggested that they were similar to him in nature. If he did propose, he would be offering her a desirable situation.
But perhaps she had mistaken his meaning. Perhaps he was just excited about this opportunity and eager to tell a friend all about it, as well as the affection for his family and home county which made him long to return there.
That question was answered for her in a few more days. The colonel came to call one morning and requested a private interview with her. As Jane left the room, Elizabeth wondered how she should answer.
His proposal was an excellent one. He spoke aff
ectionately of his feelings for her and his belief that they were very well matched. He expressed a certainty that his family would love her, and she them. Then he informed her that the property which he had mentioned was indeed to be his. The sale had yet to be finalised, but it had been agreed on both sides, and he should be able to take possession within a few months. Nothing would make him happier than to do so with the dearest of companions. That would fulfill all his ideas of happiness.
As he spoke, Elizabeth became more and more unhappy. The picture he painted was a pleasing one. She wished that she could love him, and give him the answer he wanted, but she could not. And to marry him without love would be wrong for both of them.
Her third proposal must meet with her third refusal. The first time she had meant to be kind, but he had driven her to irritation. The second time – oh, how she wished that could be undone – she had been angry and resentful. This time, she could be gracious and truly regretful of causing him any pain.
“I am deeply sorry to say that I cannot accept,” she said. “You are one of the nicest people I have ever known, and a very good friend to me, but my feelings do not go any further. I am very sorry for it. I would love you if I could, but I cannot, and I believe love is essential in a marriage.”
He was equally gracious in replying. There was no bitterness, and a perfect willingness to accept her answer. “I hope that we can continue to be friends,” he said, and she agreed that it would be a sorry thing if they could not.
They parted with such friendliness that Jane afterwards looked at her sister with happy expectation and was astonished when Elizabeth burst into tears.
“I could not say yes,” she said tearfully. “He is the nicest person, and I am sure he would be a wonderful husband. I feel terrible about disappointing him, but I cannot marry him. I do not love him, Jane, and you know my feelings about marrying without love.”
“You do not think you might yet come to care for him?”
“No,” Elizabeth cried, almost vehemently. “It is impossible. I cannot love anybody.”