Elizabeth Bennet's Impertinent Letter

by J P Christy

  As for the celebration dinner—for no one who joined the confrontation against Lady Catherine had doubted Anne would prevail—the meal, which was planned by Georgiana, was as fine as any that the guests had ever eaten. Of equal enjoyment throughout the evening were the lively conversations and the occasional divergent viewpoints, which were always stated in a friendly manner; this variety of opinions was to be expected in a gathering that included peers of the realm, landed gentry, an attorney, several doctors, and several cheerfully impertinent ladies.

  During dessert, Fitzwilliam rose from his place and crossed to Anne. “In honor of your freedom, I have a gift for you. Hold out your hands, please.” Into her upraised palms, he dropped a ring of keys. “When I was in town, I arranged for all the locks at De Bourgh House to be changed. Fortunately, your mother had already returned to Rosings,” he added with a grin. “Mrs. Peake sends her greetings and looks forward to your return.”

  Anne clasped the keys delightedly and stood to kiss Fitzwilliam’s cheek. She looked a question at Mrs. Jenkinson, who nodded. “Tomorrow, we will go home,” Anne said.

  “You and Mrs. Jenkinson are welcome to travel with your uncle and me, Anne,” Lady Fitzwilliam said. “We have been strangers for too long. I wish to know you better—and the dear friend who helped you to a new life.”

  43

  “I am surprised you choose to rusticate here.”

  August 28, 1811

  Arriving at the Laidlaw farm the following morning, Darcy dismounted from Samson and greeted Mrs. Laidlaw, who was working in her garden. “Good day, madam. Please excuse me for interrupting you.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” she replied cheerfully, sitting back on her heels.

  Martin was sitting under the peach tree, learning his letters from Cassandra; at the sight of Darcy, he leaped up and ran to him. “Pegasus!”

  Darcy captured the little boy and cradled him. “I am sorry, Master Martin, but Pegasus is getting new shoes in Meryton. This is my sister’s horse.”

  Cassandra joined her brother. “I remember Samson!” She stepped forward shyly and lightly touched the horse’s nose when he bowed this head to her.

  “I want to ride Pegasus again!” Martin said.

  “Tell the gentleman ‘please, sir,’” Mrs. Laidlaw reminded.

  “Please, sir,” Martin shouted.

  “I will make certain you do, Master Martin, but not today,” Darcy said. “And how are you this morning, Miss Cassandra?”

  “Today, I am a teacher,” she said proudly.

  How many years ago did I sit with Georgiana and instruct her on her letters and numbers? “Then I give you your student.” He set Martin on his feet. “Go learn your lessons, young sir. Mrs. Laidlaw, I wish to speak with Mr. Ainsworth, if he is about.”

  “Allen is in the cow pasture, just at the end of that path.” She pointed to a track leading through a grove of trees.

  Darcy gave her a nod of farewell and tethered Samson to a post next to the barn. As he followed the path, he inhaled deeply, enjoying the smells and sights. Soon, Elizabeth and I will ramble along similar trails at Pemberley.

  Upon reaching the pasture, he found Ainsworth sitting on a tall tree stump. With his back to the path, the young parson was preaching to two cows, one calf, and the little black goat (now called “Dancer”) from the Netherfield ball. His voice carried well in the morning air, and there was a confident quality to it.

  Standing in this peaceful place, Darcy could not help but reflect upon the tumultuous several months since his bumbling first proposal to Elizabeth Bennet. By you, my dear lady, I was properly humbled. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.

  Mere minutes later, Ainsworth concluded with a blessing of the bovine and caprine congregants. Darcy, hoping to lessen the young man’s surprise at having a human audience, cleared his throat before saying, “Well spoken, sir.”

  Startled, Ainsworth sprang up from the stump. Reddening slightly, he said, “I have sent inquiries for a position at a parsonage. I want to be ready when I receive a response.”

  “Have you ever been to Derbyshire?”

  “No, sir, I have not had that pleasure.”

  “As I believe you know, my home is there and so is the parsonage of Kympton. At present, it is ministered by a well-regarded gentleman named Samuel Perry Porter. You would like him.”

  “No doubt, for I trust your judgment.” Is Mr. Darcy inviting me to meet his parson?

  “Last year, Mr. Porter lost his wife to illness; they had been married for many years.”

  “A hard thing, I am sure. I will include him my prayers, sir.”

  “Yesterday, I received a letter from Mr. Porter telling me he wished to give up his position so he could live with his daughter’s family in Wolverhampton. He has asked me to find a replacement. Might you be interested?”

  A startled smile crossed Ainsworth’s face. “I would indeed if I could bring my wife.”

  Having forgotten that the young parson was courting Mary Bennet, Darcy thought, Oh good heavens, is this another complication to be sorted out before Elizabeth and I can marry? Aloud he said, “You are married? I had believed you were not.”

  Ainsworth chuckled. “What I meant to say, sir, is that I hope to be. It is a subject I have broached with Miss Mary.”

  “Ah, of course. Miss Elizabeth will be delighted to have her sister so near.”

  “Then I accept your offer, sir—happily!”

  That afternoon at Longbourn, when Mr. Allen Ainsworth proposed to Miss Mary Bennet, her response echoed the one he had given Darcy. A short while later, as Ainsworth was receiving Mr. Bennet’s blessing in his study, Mary and Mrs. Bennet waited in the parlor, each busy with her own thoughts. Mary imagined a life in a new place with a loving husband, while Mrs. Bennet wondered which daughter might be available in the coming years to care for aging parents.

  The next morning, when Elizabeth “happened” to encounter Darcy as she walked from Netherfield to Oakham Mount, he told her of his offer to Ainsworth. She asked, “Would you be amenable to a double wedding with Mary and Ainsworth?”

  He gave her a pained look. “While I would be happy for them to share our wedding day, I am not eager to wait for three more Sundays while the banns are read for them.”

  “Nor am I, sir. Perhaps as a wedding gift to me, you might purchase a common licence for them so we could have a double wedding on the fourth of September.”

  “Their licence as your wedding gift,” Darcy mused. “I had thought to give you ear bobs to match this.” Taking her right hand, he lightly tapped his thumb on her ring.

  “It is a truth universally acknowledged that one cannot have too many sapphires. Yet, sharing our wedding with Mary and Mr. Ainsworth in a ceremony sooner rather than later would mean even more.”

  “If they agree, consider it done.” Darcy kissed her hand and then her lips.

  ≈≈≈

  September 4, 1811

  In the church at Meryton, Parson Gannet officiated at the double wedding of Miss Elizabeth Deirdre Bennet to Mr. Fitzwilliam Edward Darcy and of Miss Mary Lee Bennet to Mr. Allen Bradford Ainsworth. The celebration was grander than the happy couples had wanted, but it was smaller than Mrs. Bennet would have arranged had she been given free rein. Thus, Mr. Bennet deemed it a success.

  Charlotte Collins attended, but without her husband; her father, Sir William Lucas, had declared he would have nothing to do with his son-in-law until remuneration was received for the stolen stallion. Lady Lucas attended with her son, John, her daughter Maria, and her husband, as those three had recently returned from Brighton. Sir William was not currently speaking to his wife, because he felt she shared the blame for the loss of his horse. As for Lady Lucas, upon discovering that her husband’s silence allowed her to pretend he was still in Brighton, she had no cause for repine.

  Maria Lucas had returned to Hertfordshire with stories about her popularity with the men of t
he militia. Lydia was envious, but she consoled herself with her parents’ promise of her having a season in London within the next year or two, for what was a red-coated soldier when compared to a land-owning gentleman? See, I have matured!

  The wedding breakfast at Netherfield was overseen by Mrs. Bennet and executed by Mrs. Bingley. As Fitzwilliam watched the guests—in particular, the newlyweds—he found himself happily contemplating his upcoming nuptials to Lady Penelope. He wished she could have accompanied him to Hertfordshire, but she was in Cornwall, awaiting the birth of Gwen’s baby. Seeking a few moments of quiet, Fitzwilliam stepped into the fresh air, but his thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Bennet’s demanding voice coming through the open windows of the small parlor.

  “Tell me, Kitty, when do you expect Colonel Fitzwilliam to ask for a courtship?”

  Dear lord, is that child expecting me to make her an offer? he wondered, panicked.

  “Oh, Mama, today is the first time I have seen the gentleman since Lady Catherine stormed into Purvis Lodge. I do not expect the colonel to offer for me.”

  “Why ever not? Don’t you like him?”

  “I do like him. He is very amiable; he listens when I speak.”

  “I highly doubt that, Kitty. I count myself fortunate if your father even looks as if he is listening to me. Men do not listen to women. Indeed, they barely listen to each other; it is as if they are attending to some little voice they alone can hear.”

  Fitzwilliam wished he could see the ladies’ expressions during this curious conversation, as Kitty said, “Mr. Darcy listens to Lizzy. Mr. Bingley listens to Jane. Mr. Ainsworth listens to Mary. Why is it so different for the colonel to listen to me?”

  “Those men are married to your sisters! And does it not follow that if the colonel listens to you, you should marry him?”

  “Mama, he is nearly twice my years.”

  “Why should that matter?”

  “Were I a man of his experience and intelligence, I not would want a wife of seventeen or even eighteen. And were he a lad of my age, I would want him to know more of the world before settling down. Indeed, Mama, I would like to know more of the world.”

  “Females are not supposed to know ‘more of the world’; we are prized for our ignorance! Of course, I am grateful to have three daughters married, but until you and Lydia are wed, my work is not done. No rest for the weary!”

  “Perhaps you might at least try to rest, Mama.”

  “If I may speak plainly, Kitty,” Mrs. Bennet began.

  When have you not? Fitzwilliam thought.

  She continued, “You do not have Jane’s beauty, Mary’s musical talent, or Lydia’s liveliness.” In a mutter, she added, “I have never understood the appeal of Lizzy’s impertinence, but as she is now married, what does it matter?”

  “Mama, I do not feel ready to be a wife.”

  “Kitty, my girl, finding you a husband will not be easy. You know the old saying, ‘Sell when you can, you are not for all markets.’”

  Fitzwilliam did not know whether the loud sigh he heard came from the daughter or the mother, and he fought the urge to reveal himself and sweep Kitty into a protective embrace.

  Mrs. Bennet moaned. “Your and Lydia’s weddings will not be small, rushed affairs like this one—scarcely a week to prepare!—or like Jane’s with but a few days. Just the thought of finding suitable husbands for the two of you exhausts me.”

  “I would not have you suffer on my account, madam.” Kitty’s tone was cool. “As I will accompany Aunt and Uncle Gardiner on their return to London—recall, Mama, you had much to say about my packing techniques yesterday—you need only attend to your favorite daughter.”

  Ignoring the reference to Lydia, Mrs. Bennet asked, “And just what do you expect to do in London?”

  “I do not yet know. But under the good care of the Gardiners and with Lizzy, and my friends Georgiana, Anne and Nora near, I am confident I shall have a wonderful time.”

  “You are confident?” There was a mocking edge to her tone.

  “Yes, Mama, I am!” Kitty jerked open the door and strode into the sunshine.

  Fitzwilliam barely had time to step back against the house to avoid being seen by Kitty, for he did not want her to know he had overheard the conversation. A moment later, he stepped forward and affected a surprised look. “Ah, hello, Miss Kitty. Excuse me—with your sisters married, you are now Miss Bennet.” When he offered her his arm, he saw her face was flushed.

  Kitty put her hand into the crook of his arm. “Hello, Colonel. Oh, but you are no longer a colonel.”

  “Mr. Christopher Fitzwilliam, at your service.” He bowed with a flourish.

  “I am very happy for you.”

  “I am very happy for me, too. And I have a secret to tell you.”

  Kitty laughed, recalling the last time he had said that. “May I tell one person, but only one?”

  “No, indeed! I invite you to tell the world. I am engaged to Lady Penelope Velez y Garcia. We met in Spain during the war, and we will be married in November.”

  “Congratulations, sir!”

  They walked in pleasant silence for a few minutes, and when Fitzwilliam covered Kitty’s hand with his, she looked up, her expression a question. “Miss Bennet, I have come to think of you as the little sister my parents did not provide me.”

  “That is one of the best compliments I have ever received!”

  “How quiet this place shall be now that the drama is done. Imperious mothers, runaway daughters, rumors of compromise, an almost-elopement, a goat at a fancy dress ball, scandals and scoundrels, and three weddings! What will you do with yourself?”

  “I have spoken to my Aunt Gardiner.”

  “She is a delightful lady.”

  “She has welcomed me to stay with the family. It was by her influence that Jane and Lizzy became such a credit to the Bennet name. Perhaps she can work her magic on me.”

  “I have no doubt your aunt can further your education regarding the society she graces, but in essentials, you remain a lovely lady worthy of respect. You certainly have mine.”

  Kitty blushed. “Thank you.”

  “When you are in London, I should not be surprised if we were to meet at a ball.”

  “I hope so, sir.”

  “As do I. Promise that you will honor me with a set.”

  “I promise,” she said and smiled. He returned her smile, thinking, The Bennet daughters truly are uncommonly pretty.

  ≈≈≈

  Following the festivities, Georgiana returned to London with the Fitzwilliams, as she would be their guest for a few weeks. Lady Fitzwilliam saw this visit as an essential opportunity to assess her niece’s readiness for being presented to society.

  The Darcys were the first couple to leave after the wedding breakfast, and they shared their carriage with Anne and Nora (as even Darcy now called Mrs. Jenkinson). After the coachman took the ladies to De Bourgh House, he delivered the newlyweds to their townhouse. That night in her bedroom, Elizabeth felt relief that Georgiana was staying with the Fitzwilliams. Having received conflicting information from her mother and Mrs. Gardiner on the subject of marital relations, Elizabeth was understandably confused and a bit nervous.

  Dressed in an ivory silk nightgown, a gift from her aunt, she sat on the bed and closed her eyes. I must concentrate on what I know to be true. I know I love and trust Will. I know he loves and respects me.

  She recalled the kisses they had shared, which had usually been initiated by him but in which she had been an eager participant. She remembered her surprise at the feel of his lips and the urgency of his touch. These recollections inspired a pleasant tingle of anticipation, and she savored the memory.

  Across the room, Darcy was pouring a glass of water for his bride as he silently argued with himself. Should I tie my dressing gown closed? Should I wear only my nightshirt when I join her on the bed? What is the etiquette for wedding nights?

  As he carried the glass to Elizabeth, Darcy noti
ced that her eyes were closed. For a nervous moment, he wondered, Is she afraid of me? Then he saw her smile. Softly he said, “Dearest Elizabeth.” When she opened her eyes, he pressed the glass into her hands. “I have no understanding as to what this experience will be for you, but know that I love you very much and will do all I can to make you comfortable.”

  Elizabeth took a sip of water. “I was remembering how it felt when we kissed.”

  “How would you describe the feeling?” he asked warily. She enjoyed my kisses, didn’t she? Or was she simply being polite?

  Blushing, she set the glass on the nightstand. “Feelings,” she stressed the plural. “I felt excited and curious and … wanting more.” Darcy was delighted; as he leaned down to kiss her, she raised her face, closing her eyes languorously. When their long kiss ended, she offered both hands to him. “Shall we, Mr. Darcy?”

  Grinning, he took her hands and let her pull him to sit beside her. “Mr. Darcy, is it?”

  Elizabeth leaned close and imparted a line of delicate kisses along his jaw. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be ‘my dearest Will’ before the night is done.”

  And he was.

  ≈≈≈

  On their wedding night Mary and Ainsworth stayed at a fully staffed Purvis Lodge. After a leisurely morning, they left on a tour of the countryside (a gift from the Darcys), so Mary could meet her in-laws in Manchester before traveling to Derbyshire and the cottage Darcy had arranged in Kympton, where Parson Porter awaited his replacement.

  ≈≈≈

  September 16, 1811

  It was a misty morning when Darcy, Elizabeth, and Georgiana left London for Pemberley; however, the sun was shining brightly by late in the afternoon of their second day of travel. Elizabeth, her spirits in a high flutter, watched eagerly for the woods marking the start of Pemberley’s park. Her mind was too full for conversation, but she admired every remarkable spot and point of view. Watching his wife, Darcy exchanged glances with Georgiana, glances that reflected both their amusement at Elizabeth’s scrutiny and their pride in their family estate.