by Wynne Mabry
“No, thank you,” she said politely. “I shall have nothing to do there. If it is acceptable to you, I want to stay a bit longer in London, and then I shall go to Rosings for the rest of the summer.”
“As you like,” he said. He used these words very often these days.
He, Georgiana, and Mrs. Annesley left London near the end of June. The Bingleys went back to Netherfield on the same day. They were intending to spend a little time there before going on to Pemberley. Instead of going with them to Hertfordshire, Elizabeth went to stay with her aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street. A few days later, they set out on their tour of the lakes.
Their destination did not disappoint. The views were all that she had expected, and more. Lakes, mountains, and rivers refreshed her spirit and provided a balm for all her disappointments.
Meanwhile, the Bingleys had arrived at Pemberley. Although Georgiana was disappointed not to have Elizabeth there, she was pleased to still have one of her friends, whose current situation made for a great deal of happy conversation. As Jane was beginning to be heavy with child, the three ladies took short, slow walks together, or they sat indoors in the coolest rooms.
Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley often went fishing, but on one hot day they chose to stay indoors as well. That was the day when Mr. Darcy received a surprising letter.
“There are goings-on in your house of which you should know,” he read. “You would be well advised to return to London at once.” This brief communication was signed “a well wisher.”
Although it was short and to the point, Mr. Darcy read the letter again. It sounded as though the writer was warning him that his wife was indulging in illicit activities of her own. Goings-on commonly referred to the very thing of which she had accused him. That would be ironic, but of course it was not possible. Aside from hating that activity, she must have gone to Rosings by now.
He turned the letter over, thinking that perhaps it was meant for somebody else and had been mistakenly delivered to him. But that was his name and direction. There was no mistake. Apparently, somebody was doing something untoward in his house. They did not necessarily have to be of the sort which had first come to mind. Whatever the case, he considered it best to make the journey to London and find out what was going on.
He explained to Mr. Bingley that some business required his attention, although he did not elaborate upon it. His friend offered to go with him and keep him company.
“No, there is no need for you to trouble yourself. I hope to be there and back in a couple of days. In the meantime, I will be glad to know that you are here with the ladies.”
So Mr. Bingley stayed, and Mr. Darcy went on his own to London, wondering all the way what awaited him there. Was Anne still in town? Mrs. Jenkinson up to something? Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst? Perhaps some stranger had insinuated her way into the household and was taking advantage of his wife for financial gain.
But at the end of his journey, he discovered that it was none of these things. On arriving at his townhouse, he was admitted by a footman whose expression immediately told him that these goings-on where in progress at that very moment and that they were of an embarrassing nature.
“In the drawing room,” the footman said awkwardly. He went upstairs behind Mr. Darcy, who felt uncomfortable as well, but realizing the value of having a witness, he did not send the servant away.
The door to the drawing room was locked, but the housekeeper bustled up and handed Mr. Darcy a key. He unlocked the door and opened it, giving the three of them a view of his wife in an undoubtedly compromising position. A moment passed before their presence was noticed, and then she leapt up from the sofa. At least she tried to. Her frantic effort was hindered by the gentleman positioned between her legs.
The Beginning of the End
“Anne did not even think she had done anything wrong,” Mr. Darcy said to his cousin after relating the sordid story. “She actually said, ‘but you told me that I could do what I wanted.’ She was not even disconcerted when I pointed out that I told her to enjoy her own friends and activities, not to take a lover. Even then, she was not at all contrite. She was more concerned that I would tell her mother. This has been the most confounding day. I have never been more astonished in my entire life than I was this morning.”
“I am not especially surprised by this,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “Anne has always been an exceptionally selfish person. When it comes down to it, she only cares about what she wants.”
“One would think she might have at least been more concerned about being found out.”
“I expect she took a simplified view of the matter. You were away, and therefore it was safe.”
“Then she was a fool not to realise that the servants were bound to comprehend what was going on.”
“Servants are scarcely even people in her eyes. It would not occur to her that they would dare to question her conduct. I suppose it was one of them who wrote that letter to you.”
“I presume so. Or perhaps all of them in collaboration. They seem to be remarkably loyal to me. As I understand it, they made note of other things which happened while I was away, and several of them hurried to be of use as witnesses today. They seem to have anticipated that I would wish to petition for a divorce.”
“Is that what you are going to do?”
“I have thought of it. It is what I want, but I wanted an end to my marriage long before she was unfaithful. Now, it feels as though I would be taking advantage of this opportunity to rid myself of an unwanted wife.”
“The opportunity was provided by her misconduct. It is not unreasonable for you to seek a divorce. You should not allow yourself to be held back by self-reproach.”
“I do not know. At least I am innocent of adultery, but I am guilty of having wished that I was married to somebody else.”
“You never acted upon those feelings.”
“I have enjoyed spending time with Elizabeth.”
“But you have never been anything more than a friend to her.”
“I take far too much pleasure in that friendship.”
“And yet it is still innocent. You are reproaching yourself for things which pale by comparison to Anne’s conduct.”
“I am also reproaching myself for not getting along very well with her. My behaviour may have influenced her choices.”
“Her behaviour is the reason you did not get along well. Yes, you fought with Anne sometimes, but only because she was so provoking in the first place. And lately, you had been making such a great effort. She had no reason to be disgruntled at this point in time. Anyway, she is ultimately accountable for her own choices. You were unhappy, but you did not choose to behave dishonourably. It is time to stop blaming yourself, Darcy. That must end now. Get yourself a divorce and be free of her.”
“I am not just thinking of my own culpability. There are others to consider as well. If I take this step, some of the repercussions may fall upon my family.”
“Not in any way that really matters, except for our aunt, of course. She will certainly suffer the consequences of her daughter’s behaviour, but I believe the rest of us have sufficient credibility to ride it out.”
“I doubt your parents would agree.”
“No, I suppose not. My father will probably make a great fuss, but you must not be swayed by his doomsaying. You certainly need not have any concern about me, and my brother is not likely to be bothered.”
“There is also Elizabeth to think of, and the Bingleys. They could be brought into the proceedings, and it would be so unfair. I would especially dread to hear her name raised in court.”
“That is not very likely. There is no reason for it to come up. Even the craftiest counsel cannot make anything of a mere suspicion. I am sure you know that, but if it will make you feel better, go and have a chat with your solicitors. They will reassure you, and after that, you can ask them to begin your divorce proceedings.”
Another Storm to Weather
“Still not engag
ed, Lizzy?” Mrs. Bennet asked after the Gardiners had brought her daughter back to Longbourn.
“No, Mama. Still not. But perhaps Mary and Kitty will have better luck.”
“Chance would be a fine thing. They do not meet anybody here. If only another such gentleman as Mr. Bingley would come into the neighbourhood. Or perhaps another regiment. One with a colonel who is single and has five or six thousand a year. I would not say no to that, for who knows when we may get them to London. Mr. Bingley tells me that he and Jane will not be going there at all this winter, which is very disappointing.”
“But you will have the baby to look forward to. That will be exciting.”
“I would rather look forward to a wedding, but I suppose a christening will have to do.”
“Speaking of babies, have you had any news of Lydia?”
“Her child is late. It is always so with first babies.”
“Well, I am certain it must come soon.”
“It will not matter much to me anyway,” Mrs. Bennet said gloomily. “The child will likely be half grown before I set eyes upon it. If only she had waited to find herself a better husband.”
“It is no use talking about if only, Mama. Mistakes cannot be undone. We all have to live with the consequence of choices made, whether by ourselves or others. It is better to do so graciously.”
But two days later Elizabeth received a visit which gave her cause to think about the possibility of second chances. The caller was Mr. Darcy. While he made some polite conversation with her mother, she thought that he looked rather tired, and her heart went out to him.
Once the duty of civility had been fulfilled, he asked her to take a stroll with him. Since it was in the garden, where anybody might easily observe them and only see two friends talking, she saw no harm in accompanying him outside. It was clear to her that he had a reason for wanting to speak privately, and she was wondering if he had come to warn of another impending assault upon her character. But she could never have guessed what she was about to hear.
“I am just on my way back to Pemberley,” he said. “I was summoned to London a few days ago, and I went there in a great hurry.”
“I thought that you looked tired.”
“I have been very much occupied in the past couple of days. My reason for travelling to London was a warning that something was going on in my house. Somewhat to my astonishment, I arrived to catch my wife in flagrante delicto.”
Elizabeth looked at him with astonishment. “You mean she was with a gentleman? In a compromising way?”
“Very compromising. Nothing was left to any doubt.”
“How awful. I am very sorry that you have had such an experience.”
“It was an appalling thing to see, but I am not especially sorry. The truth is that I did not care about her enough to be especially distressed by her disloyalty. It was mortifying, but not agonizing. It is dreadful of me to feel this way, and I hope you will not despise me for it, but I am happy about having the opportunity to get out of my marriage.”
“I do not despise you at all. Your feelings are quite natural and perfectly understandable. It was an unhappy marriage.”
“It was full of discontent on both sides. I regret my part in that, but my cousin tells me that he thinks I made more than sufficient effort.”
“I believe you did as well,” she said. “I have often seen you being kind to your wife. You must not dwell upon regrets, and after all, she is the one who was adulterous, not you.”
“Richard said that as well. I was uncertain about petitioning for a divorce, but that is what I have decided to do. There is no hope for our marriage now, and it is fair for me to want a separation from an unfaithful wife.”
“It is indeed, but I fear that you will yet have much to suffer. Will you not find it difficult to bear the notoriety of a divorce?”
“I can bear it better than my marriage. Anyway, I am not the same man you once knew. I am not so particular about what people think of me anymore. I do care what they think of you though, and that is why I have come to see you.”
“You think I may be brought into this?”
“There is a slight possibility that your name may be raised in court. The defence counsel will not be able to disprove any of the evidence against his client, but he will do his best to minimise the size of the award. Proving me to be adulterous would be his ideal goal. Of course, it cannot be done, but Anne may give him the impression that it can. If he should choose to question my servants about you, their answers would naturally vindicate you, but there could still be some effect upon your reputation. My solicitors believe that he is most likely to ask general questions and not raise your name if there is no usefulness to doing so, but they cannot guarantee that you will be safe. I want the choice to be yours. If you have any objection to the risk, then I shall not proceed with a divorce.”
“I have no objection. Quite the opposite. I encourage you to go ahead.”
“There are others whose opinion I must seek first. Your father is one. He must also know of this possibility and be allowed to object if he wishes. And as Georgiana will have a share in my notoriety, I shall not do anything without her approval, but I think that she will give it. I expect she will feel the same way that I do about putting a decisive end to a situation which has caused both of us so much unhappiness.”
“Your aunt is not going to like this,” Elizabeth observed.
“No, she is not. I expect she would like everything to be swept under the rug, but she will not have her way. I think it very likely that my aunt and I will be estranged in the future, but that does not particularly distress me. If she should happen to pay a call upon you, please feel free to say whatever you like to her. I hope she does not though. You have already put up with enough from my relatives.”
“I would put up with a great deal more if necessary.”
“You have been a good friend to me.”
“I always shall be, whatever happens.”
“You need not hold yourself to such a promise. If the time comes when it is better for you to give up our friendship, then I will not take it amiss. Your future husband might desire you to do so.”
“I do not think I would marry a man who told me what to do.” She smiled. “You know me to be too independent to follow any such direction. Anyway, I have no prospective husband, and I do not anticipate having one.”
“You do not? I had thought you very likely to be engaged by now. But, of course, it is none of my business,” he quickly added. “I should not have brought up such a personal matter.”
“I believe I understand what idea you have formed.” Although it was a very personal subject, Elizabeth felt a great desire for him to know that she was not planning to marry. “To be honest, an offer was made, and I refused it.”
“You did? I thought he was the perfect gentleman to suit you.”
“He is an admirable gentleman, and I like him very much, but I was not in love, and I have always been determined not to marry for anything but love.”
“It is an excellent resolution,” he said, trying to keep his composure while his mind was disordered. He could scarcely believe what he had just heard. She was not attached. Perhaps there might still be a chance for him. Maybe one day he could have happiness after all.
They went inside to consult with Mr. Bennet, who was a little surprised to hear of the suspicions which had been formed, but not the least bit inclined to doubt the innocence of his daughter and Mr. Darcy. He also had no objection to make. “If Lizzy is not concerned, that is good enough for me,” he said. “After all that you have done for us, Mr. Darcy, I could not possibly object. Anyway, I have always said that we live to make sport for our neighbours.”
“I shall keep that in mind when my name is bandied about everywhere,” Mr. Darcy said. “But I hope that yours will be spared.”
“I do not know when I shall see you again,” he said in taking his leave of Elizabeth. “I understand that Jane and Bingley will be here all
winter. I shall miss my friends, but I am glad that none of you will be in London. I shall be the talk of the town this winter, and a great source of fodder for the newspapers. It will be very disagreeable, but I hope to weather the storm.”
Standing Together
“Anne was with another man!” Georgiana cried.
“She was,” Mr. Darcy confirmed.
“I can hardly believe it.”
“I was just as astonished myself.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I intend to get a divorce if I can. But only if you do not mind being associated with the scandal of it.”
“I do not mind. Indeed, I am wholeheartedly in favour of it.”
“Perhaps you should give this some careful consideration before giving your opinion. This may affect your marriage prospects. There are some gentlemen who would consider you ineligible if I were divorced.”
“I would not want to marry any such gentlemen anyway. I want to marry somebody who loves me enough not to be put off by my brother’s circumstances.”
Mr. Darcy thought of Elizabeth. If the opportunity had been there, he would have married her in spite of Lydia’s elopement. “As long as you are quite certain, then I would like to proceed with this.”
“I am very certain. I do not even care if we are ostracised from society.”
“It should not be that bad. Some of the most particular people will look down upon us, and we will not be welcome at court or Almack’s, I fear.”
“They are both very dull places anyway,” his sister declared.
He smiled. “I shall not especially miss them. After everything has settled down, most people will still send us invitations. The scandal will not fall so much upon us since I am the innocent party. It is Anne who will be ostracised. She has cast herself beyond the pale.”
“It is only what she deserves. She had an excellent husband whom she did not choose to appreciate.”
“We did argue a great deal.”
“You did not argue at first, but she rejected you from the very beginning. I do not even understand how this could have happened.” She blushed and then asked a rather bold question. “If Anne did not like doing certain things, then how could she have been with another gentleman?”