Mr Darcy and Mr Collins's Widow

by Timothy Underwood

  Mr. Gardiner laughed, “It may seem little to you — but in some circles thirteen thousand pounds is a great fortune.”

  “I’m glad to have your support; I shall ensure your wife is taken round the park each morning if she so wishes while you are at Pemberley.”

  Mr. Gardiner grinned widely in reply, as Darcy felt Elizabeth poke him with her elbow. Darcy smiled at her, and she said, “Be nice to my uncle.”

  “I do think,” Darcy added, “while the income should be irrevocably settled upon the sisters, the capital should be only released if each of us agree.” He smiled at Lydia, “Surely you cannot object to that clause; after all, you think should you wish to marry you would be insane.”

  Lydia blushed at everyone’s laughter, but said, “You are right. It is a good idea.” She looked at Elizabeth, “Women in love really cannot be trusted with their own interests.” With a serious voice Lydia asked, “And what plan for Longbourn? While a large amount I know twenty thousand pounds is much less than its value.”

  Darcy approved of how she tried to take seriously her role as Elizabeth’s defender. Her closeness with Georgiana was a good thing. “That was the second part of my scheme. One third of the income from the estate and use of the house would be settled upon Mrs. Bennet during her life, and —”

  “Why settle anything upon her?” Lydia interrupted in a clipped voice, “She does not need much.”

  Darcy frowned, and looked at Elizabeth, a third was the traditional widow’s portion. Any deviation from that would be Elizabeth’s choice, not his.

  Elizabeth smoothed her dress along her legs and she looked down. “Lydia,” Elizabeth’s eyes turned to the portrait of her father above the fireplace, “She is our mother.”

  “So? I recall what she did when he —” Lydia stuttered to a stop as she recalled the presence of the three men in the room.

  Darcy saw that Elizabeth had grown pale, and he took her hand and slowly kissed it. Elizabeth took a deep breath, as Lydia said “I’m sorry Lizzy, I should not have —”

  Elizabeth shook her head, and said, “No. You more than anyone have a right to remember that time.” She looked down, and flicked a speck off her dress. Darcy squeezed the hand he still held. Elizabeth turned to him with a smile, then looked to the side with a frown. She held her free hand up and said, “Allow me to think.”

  Her lips moved, and Elizabeth’s eyes grew unfocused as she whispered slowly to herself. Darcy admired the way her forehead wrinkled in concentration. At last she said, “I think five hundred pounds. Her income would then be greater than seven hundred pounds, which is one third of what father and her had when he was alive. It is much less though, than one third of the estate.”

  Lydia leaned forward with a tense posture and opened her mouth to argue.

  “No.” Elizabeth cut her off, “I shall not do what you desire.”

  Lydia stiffly sat back and Elizabeth gave her a wry smile, “Mary once told me — you shall have to ask her just who she quoted for I did not recognize it — the best revenge is to be dissimilar to the one who performed the injury. We have no need to act in the way you suggested.”

  At last Lydia nodded. Darcy continued to hold Elizabeth’s hand; he felt her squeeze his hand in return. He settled himself so he sat a bit closer to her, and could feel the warm line of her leg against his own. Bingley appeared confused, but aware would not be proper to ask why both Lydia and Elizabeth disliked their mother. Mr. Gardiner frowned, looked between Lydia and Elizabeth, and with an unhappy sigh busied himself scribbling notes onto a sheet of paper he acquired before they sat down.

  Elizabeth broke the silence, “Well, Fitzwilliam” — the novelty had not yet worn off. Darcy felt a happy flutter deep in his stomach when she used his Christian name. Elizabeth leaned her head against his shoulder, “Let us hear it: what nefarious scheme have you planned for the rest of Longbourn’s income?”

  Darcy blushed, it was silly, but explaining his idea embarrassed him. He hoped Elizabeth liked it. “I know, you worry for your sisters, and wish to ensure that they are always well. You — you told me once that you hoped to guarantee that not only your sisters, but their children also — and the generations after would be safe. You wanted to guarantee no girl related to you ever would need to marry to avoid poverty.”

  Elizabeth squeezed his hand, and gave him a soft smile when Darcy paused.

  “Well,” Darcy cleared his throat and looked into her eyes, “I want us to establish a fund to support any female relative of yours who might ever be in need. It would be left alone for at least two decades, since your sisters will have sufficient dowries. The fund would grow to a substantial sum. Then no matter how many daughters your sisters, or their children might have, none would ever be in real need.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him with luminous eyes but said nothing, and Darcy began to babble, “I know due to the laws against perpetuities, and the difficulty of controlling future generations I can’t guarantee all descendants of the family will always be well cared for but — I do have some thoughts on what can be done — and my, our, lawyers are very good, and —”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth put her fingers against his mouth, “I like your idea very much.” She began to tear up, “Very much. You — you really are the best man I know.”

  Darcy looked at her with a soft smile, and forgot the rest of the room.

  Mr. Gardiner harrumphed from the background to catch the couple’s attention, “That is a very generous scheme Mr. Darcy. Very. If you put Longbourn’s rents into such a fund, you will gain no income by marrying Lizzy. And you plan to give up some twenty thousand pounds in ready cash.” He leaned forward and raised his eyebrows, “Perhaps, it is you who need someone present to protect their interests?”

  “I am a wealthy man,” Darcy half shrugged, “and not an extravagant one, and neither was my father. I have put aside thousands of pounds every year since I took the estate — I assure you, this does not harm me.”

  Mr. Gardiner frowned, and bounced the back of his pencil against the table. Darcy had not anticipated any objections to his scheme, as it was very generous. However, if he had imagined an objection, it would not have been that he intended to cheat himself. He began to better understand why Elizabeth held Mr. Gardiner in such high esteem.

  “Uncle,” Darcy spoke firmly, and held Mr. Gardiner’s eyes, “I will do this. It is a plot which has been in my mind for several weeks, and not a sudden thought. Elizabeth’s happiness is all that matters to me. This will not hurt me, and I will not regret it.”

  They stared at each other then Mr. Gardiner shrugged and relaxed, “Well. You violent young lovers always wish to carry everything your own way. There’s nothing I could say to convince you.”

  Darcy openly put his arm around Elizabeth and pulled her closer to his side, “There is not. Besides, I am gaining Elizabeth’s services — you know she is a most excellent estate manager. She will be involved in making all our future decisions,” the strength of his smile nearly stopped Darcy from speaking as he said ‘our ‘. “In the long run I shall come out ahead.”

  “Oh!” Elizabeth exclaimed from his side. Her eyes were still teary but she smiled happily, “The truth comes out. Despite all your pretty words about the sound of my laughter, it seems you marry me for money.”

  Her eyes were just six inches from his, and Darcy held them as he replied, “Of course, we Darcys are pragmatists. You can have no cause to complain; you were the one to propose.”

  The fine skin of her cheeks and forehead turned a very pretty pink, “I fear you shall repeat that story endlessly.”

  “Of course I shall,” Darcy’s voice was low, and he almost whispered, “Your boldness in acting so — that is part of who you are and what I love about you. I never would wish to forget it.”

  Elizabeth’s face softened, and her lips parted as she held her bright eyes on him. Darcy had begun to lean forward to kiss her, when Mr. Gardiner coughed loudly. “Ahem. Not that your lover’s ta
lk is not fascinating — it is.” He grinned, “It surprises me not at all that you would be the one to speak first Lizzy — but you are in company.”

  Darcy felt himself blush like a schoolboy while Elizabeth jumped several inches away from him and took her hand back. Mr. Gardiner continued, “I also must insist your engagement last a month at the most.”

  Lydia’s eyes were wide, “I had known a girl could encourage a man to speak, but I had no idea it might be proper for her to ask herself.”

  “I daresay it is not quite proper,” Darcy laughed, “though I think any man who would take offense should you ask them would make you a poor husband.”

  “La!” Lydia replied, “I would never marry such a man, in any case.”

  Elizabeth said, her face still very red with embarrassment, “I am pleased you now think you might wish to someday marry.”

  “Perhaps. Though not ‘til I am almost an old maid.”

  Everyone smiled at Lydia.

  Mr. Gardiner said, “I am entirely satisfied by your plans Mr. Darcy. And I daresay I would be even if I were not to receive an excellent bribe. Lydia, what think you?”

  Lydia stilled, surprised to be put on the spot, she frowned and looked at Elizabeth, who nodded with a smile. Lydia said, “I have no objections to your scheme, Mr. Darcy, as far as I can tell it seems to be a very good one.”

  Darcy smiled, and stood offering his hand to pull Elizabeth up. “I’m glad to hear it. Shall we rejoin the rest of the family?”

  As they walked out of the room Darcy was surprised when Lydia rushed up to them, and very quickly embraced him. Stepping back and flushing, she said, “I will be very pleased to have you as a brother.”

  Darcy felt touched, and with emotion in his voice replied, “And I will be very pleased to have you as a sister.”

  Chapter 18

  Elizabeth awoke a day before her marriage with a small scream. She’d had that nightmare again. During the whole time since she’d become engaged Elizabeth could not remember thinking of Mr. Collins once. And now, when she was to marry on the morrow that dream again.

  Elizabeth’s shoulders drooped as she slowly pulled on her morning clothes. She had hoped he was gone.

  In this depressed mood Elizabeth wandered out. Ten minutes later she stood by the Meryton churchyard. She’d always avoided the graveyard. It gave her unhappy thoughts and memories, and not merely of Mr. Collins. This time she let herself in through the gate and looked around. There it was: a stone on which was written, William Collins, Requiescat in Pace.

  Elizabeth felt an unpleasant certainty his shade would always be with her. She was happy, far happier than she had ever felt before — she looked forward to tomorrow. She wanted, very, very much so to be married to Darcy. So why the nightmare? Why could he not at last leave her alone?

  With a sigh Elizabeth turned away. Her eyes were caught by another grave marker: Thomas Bennet, loving husband and father. With a choked sob Elizabeth realized she almost never visited him. Perhaps because he was buried next to him, perhaps because she always had been a little angry.

  Tears sprang to her eyes; Elizabeth realized how terribly much she missed him. She wished it was he, and not Uncle Gardiner who would give her away tomorrow. “Papa, oh papa — I’m to be married tomorrow. To a very good man, the best I have ever met. I wish — oh, I so wish you could meet him. I wish you were here. I — let me tell you how I met him.”

  For half of an hour Elizabeth talked to her father about her courtship, her Mr. Darcy, and how happy she was. As Elizabeth finished she heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Darcy. He gave a soft smile and stepped up behind her. Elizabeth leaned back into him so he could put his arms around her. He felt solid and warm, safe and happy.

  “Papa, this is my Mr. Darcy and I wish you to meet him.”

  Darcy spoke and Elizabeth felt his deep voice vibrate in his chest, “Mr. Bennet, I wish I could meet you, you raised a magnificent daughter. She is really the best person I know; she is the loveliest, kindest, the most graceful, elegant, and brave woman I’ve ever met. I love her. I love her more than my own self.”

  Darcy pulled Elizabeth closer in his arms as his voice thickened with emotion, “I love to hear her laugh, I love to see her smile, I love to touch her and be near her. Every day I feel my affection for her grow stronger. I wish you could be here, and see how she smiles and her happiness. I swear, I swear upon everything in me I will do all in my power to keep your daughter always happy. Mr. Bennet, I — I believe your spirit is somehow here, watching us. I feel I can sense your presence right now. So I ask your blessing, your permission to marry. For I promise with all my soul to always love and treasure her as she deserves.”

  Elizabeth smiled at Darcy’s words and stepped back so she was nestled closer against him. It may have been fancy, but with a chill she too felt the presence of her father near them. And she felt him give his blessing. For several minutes the two stood silently, and listened to the birds chirp and the breeze blow through trees. Elizabeth’s eye followed a butterfly, which bounced from flower to flower.

  Elizabeth felt Darcy start and stiffen. She looked at him and followed his gaze, it was on Mr. Collins’s grave marker. “Yes, he is here as well,” Elizabeth’s voice was flat as she remembered her nightmare.

  The two looked at it, and Elizabeth added, “I had another dream about him and what he did to Lydia last night.” Then with sadness in her voice, “I had hoped he was gone.”

  For a time Darcy said nothing, but pulled her close and slowly rubbed her forearms and hands. After Elizabeth relaxed into his comforting hold Darcy said, “When I first read your letter, I thought to stop my carriage and turn around so I could desecrate his grave.”

  Elizabeth felt a small smile work its way across her face, “Indeed. And how were you to accomplish that?”

  “Ah — that is to say, I mean,” as Darcy stammered Elizabeth turned to look up at him; he looked redder and more embarrassed than Elizabeth had ever seen him.

  “Well?” She asked with a mischievous smile, “Do tell me.”

  Darcy looked away from her, “I had some thought to — well to empty the chamber pot on him.”

  “You what!” At the expression on Darcy’s face Elizabeth glanced between him and the grave several times before she dissolved into helpless giggles. “That. That — was not what I had expected you to say.”

  Darcy had a somewhat stiff expression as he watched her continue to laugh, “Well I did not do it.”

  “No — and that is probably for the best, but only because someone might have seen you. It is the thought that counts though.” Elizabeth started to laugh again at the image in her mind.

  Darcy shook his head, with a smile that showed that despite his embarrassment he was pleased to have improved Elizabeth’s mood. “Come. We have spent enough time here.”

  Elizabeth nodded and let Darcy take her arm to lead her out of the cemetery, she giggled a half-dozen times on their walk back to Longbourn as she continued to imagine her dear stiff and proper Darcy ‘emptying the chamber pot’ on Mr. Collins’s grave.

  When the two reached Longbourn, before they entered the house Darcy pulled Elizabeth into the garden. “Elizabeth, I hope — I hope this was the last time his memory ever bothers you, but it may not be. I cannot promise — I wish I could make it so you never thought on him anymore — I wish I could make it so that no unhappiness ever touched you. Alas, I cannot. Whether it be Mr. Collins, or something unimagined we will face some trial in the future. But, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth I will always be with you. When troubles come, we will face them together.”

  Darcy’s intent eyes gave Elizabeth the familiar happy flutters in her stomach, and she remembered how he had dissolved her ill humor this morning into laughter. With an intense rush of affection for this wonderful man who was hers, Elizabeth stepped forward and tightly embraced him. “Together,” she whispered into his ear standing on her toes, “we will face everything together.”

/>   Chapter 19

  Now to settle the fates of our characters.

  After some few adventures Mr. Wickham enrolled himself in a regiment of the regulars. As a result he was present at the great battle of Waterloo. Unfortunately for Lieutenant Wickham, his seduction of a major’s wife had been discovered less than a fortnight before.

  The evening before the battle Wickham was approached by the officer, “It looks to be a very serious battle on the morrow.”

  “Yes, sir.” Wickham replied nervously.

  “A lot of people die during battles of this sort. Occasionally accidents even happen you know. People sometimes get shot by their own side.” The major leaned his head closer to that of the wide-eyed Wickham, and added in a conspiratorial voice, “I have even heard of men who take the opportunity of a battle to settle scores. To off someone they dislike.”

  Wickham gulped.

  “I don’t believe in that sort of behavior, not at all. It’s the same as how I don’t believe in duels. Deprive his majesty of a brave soldier when he is most needed? No indeed. I would never act so. You understand?”

  Wickham nodded vigorously, not at all relieved.

  The major displayed a feral grin, “A coward though, to shoot a coward who fails to give his all for God and country, that would be right. Don’t you agree Wickham?”

  Wickham stared aghast at his commanding officer, the major grabbed Wickham by the shoulders and jerked him so their faces were inches apart, “Wicky, listen carefully: if you are not the goddamn model of a modern British officer tomorrow, if I see you in the slightest hesitate to do your duty, or attempt to save yourself when you ought to fight, by Gad I swear I’ll shoot you.”

  So inspired by this short speech, and more terrified by far of Major Thorpe than the French, Wickham fought bravely the next day. So impressive were his exploits they were published in newspaper accounts of the day, along with the announcement of his posthumous award for valor. Upon reading those accounts Darcy was surprised: perhaps he had thought rather worse of his childhood companion than he deserved; at least Wickham died well. His father would have been pleased to know.