by Wynne Mabry
“I have been blaming myself; however, Georgiana says that I must not.” He looked at Mr. Bingley now. “I understand that you know what my aunt said to Elizabeth.”
“Yes. I was astounded by it.”
“It was my wife’s idea, and I very stupid one. There were absolutely no grounds for her suspicion.”
“Of course not. I never thought there could be, and neither did Jane. Not with you and Elizabeth.”
“If this story gets about, there may be some people who do believe it.”
“Only idiots. Not anybody who knows what you are like.”
“I would not be so confident of that. You might yet want to reconsider our friendship.”
“No, I do not. I’m quite prepared to stand by you in any trouble.”
“Thank you for that. You are the best of friends, and very loyal. Georgiana tells me that you did not want Elizabeth to leave you either.”
“No. Indeed, I pressed her to stay with us when she spoke of her concerns about the possibility of gossip.”
“It could be worse than gossip. You should be aware that there is a small risk of getting caught up in a scandal. I do not think that Anne would want to spread this story about, but I cannot be certain of it.”
“I would rather take any risk then forsake my friends, and Jane agrees.”
“She has admirable loyalty too. Unlike me, you made an excellent choice in your wife. But I shall not dwell upon my mistakes. I am doing my best to live with them. Only I do not want Georgiana to do so anymore, which brings me to the favour that I came to ask you today. Would you have her to stay in this house for the rest of her time in London? She and Anne have never gotten along very well, and the situation is even worse after the argument they have just had. Georgiana was understandably furious about this insult to Elizabeth.”
He saw Elizabeth reach out a hand to her friend at this.
“Of course she may stay here,” Mr. Bingley said. “And Mrs. Annesley too if that is what you wish.”
“Yes, I think that will be best. Or else I might find myself accused of having an affair with her next. Anyway, I do not want her to suffer from the discord in my household either. They will both be well content here. Yours is a very happy home.”
“You are always welcome in it too.”
“I only wish I could take advantage of that offer and stay forever. But I must go home and find my way forward.”
An Arrangement is Made
“That sounds more like a privilege than a punishment,” Anne complained when she heard of the arrangement which had been made.
“I was not thinking of punishing Georgiana,” Mr. Darcy said. “She should not have shouted, but she was justifiably upset.”
“Well, at least this means that I shall not have to suffer being insulted by her anymore. With her rude behaviour, I would not want her in my home anyway.”
“It is my home, actually, and I have decided that it is necessary to lay down some rules for your conduct in it.”
“You cannot do that. I have a right to live here.”
“I do not dispute that, but surely you must see that we cannot go on like this, always disagreeing about everything. I have a proposal to make. I would like you to cease all criticism of my sister, my friends, my servants, my clothes, my behaviour, and anything else to do with me. I also want you to stop telling me what to do and whom to know. I shall do the same for you. Each of us shall respect the other’s choice of friends and activities, and when we are together, we shall endeavor to have civilised discussions instead of arguments. Do tell me about your shopping, your drawing, your drives in the park, and anything else which interests you, and I will be happy to listen. Please do not subject me to a constant steam of complaints.”
“What if there is something important that I have to tell you?”
“If you have any genuine concern you wish to discuss, then I shall willingly hear it and give the matter serious consideration. But please do not take that offer too freely, or I shall feel compelled to modify it. We have to stop making each other miserable, Anne. Let us make an effort be friendly. We do not have to care about each other, but we will both benefit from a focus upon getting along better, and so will everybody around us.”
“Perhaps I could try to do that. But I hope you will not make me listen to you talk about your books.”
“I promise never to mention them.”
“And you will be nice to Mrs. Jenkinson?”
“I will.”
“And not threaten to send her away?”
“I shall not threaten anything.”
“What if I do something you do not like?”
“Then we keep trying to do better. I prefer the use of communication and cooperation over threats or punishments.”
“That sounds reasonable,” she conceded. “But what about that thing we did? You know that I did not like it. Are you going to do it again?”
“Not without your willing agreement. You may tell me if you wish to revisit that matter at some future time, but I will not press you on it.”
“Will you say anything to Mother about us not doing it?”
“No. Will you?”
“I would rather not, but she will ask.”
“Then simply tell her that everything is going very well between us. That will suffice. Does all of this sound agreeable to you?”
“I suppose it does.”
He noted the hesitation, but at least she was trying to be cooperative. “Then we shall make this effort together. But first, I want to deal with this idea that Miss Bennet is my mistress. Can you please consider the lack of evidence and try to believe me that she is not?”
“That does not matter anymore. I do not have to worry about it since Miss Bennet will not defy Mother.”
Mr. Darcy thought she had a remarkable confidence in her mother’s ascendancy; however, this was not the way he wanted to settle the matter. “Why is it so impossible for you to believe me?” he asked. “Why can you not understand that I do not have a mistress?”
She looked at him with some surprise. “All men have them. That is just the way things are.” She reddened and lowered her voice. “They require illicit companions for their baser needs.”
“If that is what you think, then why did you make such a fuss about me not having one?”
“I never said that. I always expected you to have one. I only want it to be a suitable person. Somebody of low class. Not somebody we know. That was what I minded.”
This was strangely illuminating.
“So I could frequent brothels, and you would not care?”
“What a nasty word,” she cried. “You can be terribly vulgar, Fitzwilliam, but no, it does not bother me that you go to houses of ill repute. I know that you require that sort of thing. I only want to never hear about it.”
“I do not go to them,” he said with irritation. “That was a theoretical question.”
She looked at him blankly.
“I was talking in the abstract,” he said. “I do not intend to frequent brothels.”
“I do not mind if you do, but can we please stop talking of such places.”
“We can. So do you accept that Miss Bennet is one of my friends and will continue to be?”
“I suppose you can be friends with her if you must, although I do not want to have anything to do with her. Can that be part of our arrangement?”
“It can. I shall not ask her and the Bingleys to dine here anymore. I will of course continue to visit them in their home.”
“That is fine. As you said, we shall do our own things and be tolerant of each other.”
“Excellent. I am glad we have come to this understanding.”
A Heartfelt Conversation
Mr. Darcy went away thinking that there was a certain usefulness to his wife’s awe of her mother. Even if Anne could not believe him, at least she was no longer concerned about her suspicions of Elizabeth.
What he did not know was that Lady Catherine had
done something to address her lack of satisfaction with his own and Elizabeth’s answers. She had hired a man to spy upon both of them and to inform her if they engaged in any illicit activity.
This person followed when Mr. Darcy walked in the park with Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Mrs. Annesley a few days later. He was quite excited to see the suspect pair separate from their companions. Surreptitiously making his way closer to them, he managed to listen in upon a bit of their conversation.
“So she believes that all is well now, just because her mother spoke to you,” he heard the gentleman say. I suppose it is fitting for a ridiculous business to end in a ridiculous way, but at least it seems that we need not worry about Anne making any more fuss or causing a scandal. She seems perfectly happy to forget all about it. I really am very sorry you were subjected to such appalling treatment.”
“You know that I do not I do not blame you for it,” the lady replied.
“It is my fault for having married such an unreasonable person.” This sounded quite promising. It seemed that the gentleman was annoyed with his wife for her opposition to their adultery. But then he added, “Of all the absurd ideas for her to come up with. And then my aunt had to go and believe it as well, even though it was impossible for any such thing to have happened. I could not get either one of them to rationally consider that fact. I am sorry for that too.”
“I was afraid that it was my fault. I thought I had done something to give Mrs. Darcy the wrong impression. I do talk to you very often. Perhaps too often.”
“You have done nothing untoward. I am sure you talk to other people as often as to me. Anyway, one should not be accused of adultery just for having numerous conversations.”
It certainly sounded as though the couple were innocent. The eavesdropper was inclined to believe they were. He had an extensive acquaintance with human depravity, and to his eye, there was no immorality about these two. He would continue his surveillance as instructed, but it was a good thing that he was being paid for his time and not for evidence of adultery since it did not appear that there would be any.
He was not able to keep listening from that point, so he did not hear Elizabeth say, “But I do have a particular liking for our conversations. Perhaps your wife realised how much I enjoy your company.”
“It still does not justify her suspicions.”
“No, it does not,” Elizabeth said hesitantly. “Still, I wonder if perhaps we should not be friends. Even though we are innocent of any wrongdoing, her feelings should be considered.”
“Her suspicions have nothing to do with feelings. In fact, she seems to think it quite normal for me to have a mistress. She does not care about me enough to even mind if I do, except that she would prefer it not to be somebody we know. I have been recommended to confine myself to houses of ill repute.”
Elizabeth looked at him incredulously. “She said that?”
“She did indeed. Would you take me for the sort of man who cares to frequent such places?”
“Never,” she cried. “You are too decent and honourable.”
“It is not just me. My wife distrusts all men.”
“How very strange. I wish for both your sakes that she could see how fortunate she is.”
“Oh, she does consider herself fortunate. We have discussed that subject, and she is very happy to live in London, where she can go visiting and shopping to so much satisfaction. She does not think that happiness in marriage has anything to do with one’s husband.”
“But it still seems that I am a source of trouble in your marriage. I know your wife dislikes me and wishes us not to be friends. Things might be easier for you if I did keep away from you, and that does seem like the right thing to do.”
“I could not bear to lose our friendship, but as it happens, there is no need to think of that. Anne and I have come to an agreement. She has agreed to cease criticizing everything, including my choice of friends. We are going to try to accept each other’s different preferences and to have a civil relationship.”
“That sounds like an excellent approach. I hope that it will work for you.”
“It is too early to know if it will stand, but I think she would also prefer for us to argue less. And to be less miserable.”
She looked at him sympathetically. “You have been very unhappy?”
“I have. It is my own fault though. I know that. I made a hasty decision, which I have spent many hours regretting.”
“Because of me,” she said sorrowfully. “Because I turned you down. It really was my fault. I always thought it was.”
“No, not because of you. I am responsible for my own choices.”
“But perhaps if I had not been so angry with you. If I had not brought up Mr. Wickham’s grievances. If I had not told you that you were the last man in the world I would ever marry.”
“You cannot blame yourself. If I had not proposed so rudely, then you would have turned me down politely. I would only have been disappointed in an ordinary way instead of bitter and angry. That was all my own fault.”
“But it was not. If I had not believed Mr. Wickham’s lies, I would not have accused you of injuring him.”
“Even so, I was able to vindicate myself on that count. It was my offense against your sister which was the greater part of our quarrel. If I had not injured her, you would not have hated me.”
“If I had opened my eyes to the validity of your reasons. You were right about my family.”
“No, do not think that way. I was the one being excessively particular. I was the one who did not appreciate the value of a lady like your sister. Thank goodness Bingley did. How ironic it is that I now envy him for having the sense which I did not. I am so glad that I never succeeded in ruining his life. It has been a great pleasure to see them so happy.”
“It is wonderful to see that you can appreciate that without every feeling bitter.”
“I was not always so much in control of myself, as you well know,” he said ruefully. “I still regret having treated you so dreadfully, but your forgiveness was an important turning point for me. I shall always be grateful for that. You taught me to look for happiness where I could, and to accept what was not possible. I do hope that we shall go on being friends for a very long time.”
“So do I. But I should tell you that I have decided against going to Pemberley this summer though. Your wife will not want me there.”
“I doubt that she will go. She is not likely to care for the journey any more this year than last.”
“Then all the more reason for me to keep away. In London, it should be obvious that we cannot have done anything wrong, but in the country, and being in the same house, there would be plenty of opportunity for that sort of thing. I do not want anybody to suppose it possible just in case this accusation should arise again.”
“You make a good point. Georgiana and I will both be sorry not to see you there, but I have to agree that it is a wise precaution. Your reputation must be protected.”
“And your peace of mind,” she said.
“Have you any other summer plans?” he asked.
“I do indeed, and they are excellent ones. I am going to the lakes with my aunt and uncle. That is where we were to go last year, but our plans had to be adjusted. I was quite disappointed about that, but Derbyshire was a splendid alternative. It is a beautiful county.”
“I think so too,” he said with a smile. “The lakes are magnificent though. I am glad you will have this chance to see them.”
He made some recommendations of places they must see, and the spy, who had hurried ahead under the cover of some trees and then carefully placed himself for more eavesdropping, heard only the sort of things which might be read in a travel guide. There was no question about who was going to be travelling either. It was clear that the lady was going away with some relatives and the gentleman was not to have any part in the journey.
Nothing was said of sly meetings at inns, or of ways to evade her chaperones. If these two were
lovers, they did not seem to be very good at it. No adulterous pair would fail to take advantage of such a useful opportunity. For a man in his line of work, it was quite disheartening to see such shining innocence.
An Astonishing Discovery
The rest of their time in London went by without any more troubles. In a home that was devoid of joy, Mr. Darcy did his best to establish a better relationship with his wife. When they went out in the evenings, he spent a few minutes by her side here and there, even though she was indifferent to his presence. At home, he avoided arguments and listened politely to conversations along the lines he had encouraged.
She was not interested in his suggestion of adding music lessons to her activities, but he did not press it upon her. He did succeed in persuading her to take him driving in the park one morning, and she was not nervous to have him in her phaeton, which he considered to be excellent progress. Another day, although it gave him a qualm of conscience, he falsely complimented her drawings.
“Your wife has a great talent,” the drawing master said in agreement. “Such an eye for detail, and such natural taste.” This obvious lie was reminiscent of those compliments which Mr. Collins liked to pay, and it was given with the same air of subservience, which gave Mr. Darcy further cause to dislike the man. But he was glad that his wife had a hobby, and that she seemed to be finding contentment.
He was honest with Elizabeth and the Bingleys about his agreement not to invite them anymore. They were quite understanding, although he realised they really had no reason to mind keeping away from his home. He still dined with them and went to visit as frequently as ever. They paid some more visits to the theatre together, and when they were at the same evening parties, he spent much of his time in their company as usual. He saw the Gardiners quite a few times as well, and he was pleased to hear more of their summer plans for seeing the lakes with Elizabeth. She would not want for ample pleasure to make up for not joining her sister and Bingley in their visit to Pemberley.
Although he had not expected Anne to go there with him, he still made the offer, and in a very civil way.