Another Proposal, page 7
“You wish to stay in Hertfordshire?” asked Miss Bingley, her manner shocked. “I thought we were agreed that we would return to London and join my brother.”
No, you agreed we would depart.
Aloud, Darcy contented himself with saying: “As your brother is to return, I have no desire to go to town.”
When the woman wound herself up to what Darcy was certain would be a cry of dismay, he added: “It is my thought I should like to arrange for Georgiana to come to Netherfield, and I think my Cousin Fitzwilliam would enjoy a respite from his duties too.”
That brought Miss Bingley up short. “You wish to invite your sister to Netherfield?”
“If the invitation is still in force,” said Darcy, knowing very well it was. “Georgiana, I think, would enjoy some time in the country, and I know she would find this estate charming.”
The mention of Netherfield set the woman to sneering; she had always maintained it was an inadequate estate in an inadequate neighborhood peopled with inadequate people. Darcy predicted what she would say next.
“Then we should all go to Pemberley after joining my brother in London. There would be nothing better than Pemberley at Christmas!” The woman clapped her hands. “Oh, yes, I believe that would be perfectly lovely!”
“Oh, I see no occasion for that,” replied Darcy. “Travel at this time of year is not a pleasant proposition, and I have no desire to travel south, only to travel north soon after. Bingley mentioned the possibility of staying at Netherfield for Christmas, and I think that is an excellent idea.”
Miss Bingley peered at him as if she did not understand. “I know you do not think so well of this estate, Mr. Darcy.”
“There is nothing the matter with Netherfield,” replied he. “It is what your brother wanted in terms of size and its proximity to town. And the neighborhood, while not as refined as the society in London, is not absent of attractions.”
Now the suspicion rolled off Miss Bingley in waves. “You have never cared for the society here.”
“I still don’t,” replied Darcy, reflecting it was the truth. He would learn to endure it for Miss Elizabeth’s sake, but he could not imagine ever being comfortable here. “But there is nothing the matter with the estate.”
“I suppose it is not entirely bad,” allowed Miss Bingley, though with clear reluctance.
Smiling, Darcy withdrew the knife and readied himself to use it. “Georgiana told me in her last letter that she wishes for nothing more than to leave town and visit here with us all. I have no doubt you will make her feel welcome, Miss Bingley, for I know how well you like her. We shall be a merry party, do you not think?”
The knife, now inserted and twisted, produced a most satisfying effect, for Miss Bingley transformed before his very eyes. “I believe you are correct, sir. Who knows? With your excellent sister close to hand, perhaps Charles will forget his unseemly fascination with Miss Bennet.”
“Anything is possible, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy. “Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I have letters to write to my sister and my cousin.”
“I shall see to her room, sir. Please share with your sister my earnest entreaties she join us at once, for I cannot wait to see her again!”
Darcy agreed and moved himself to the escritoire nearby, beginning to write. It was not a complete untruth, he mused, for Georgiana had informed him she would like to be with him again. That it be Netherfield was not part of her thinking, though he knew she would accept the invitation with alacrity. And while Georgiana did not precisely dislike Miss Bingley, she could tolerate the woman, though, again, Darcy knew his sister found Bingley’s sisters a little intimidating. With Darcy and Fitzwilliam present, not to mention the effect Darcy was certain Miss Elizabeth would have on her, he thought she would be well entertained, and perhaps even gain enough confidence to shed her persistent shyness.
A short time after Darcy wrote the letter, sanded it, and sent to the stables with instructions for one of his footmen to ride to London with it, Darcy was surprised by the appearance of Mr. Bennet. The gentleman entered, his manner uncertain, the hat held in his hands indicating supplication. The housekeeper led him into the room and then departed on Darcy’s motion, while Darcy faced the man he hoped would one day be his father-in-law.
“Mr. Bennet,” greeted Darcy, inclining his head. “I had not expected to see you at Netherfield today.”
“No, I dare say you did not. I apologize, sir, for coming in this state, but it could not be helped. There are developments of which I must make you aware.”
Intrigued, Darcy sat, motioning Mr. Bennet to sit nearby. “By developments, can I assume you refer to what happened between Miss Elizabeth and me?”
“Yes,” replied Mr. Bennet. After a short pause, he gathered himself and said: “Well, you see, it appears my wife has done something foolish, for after she interrupted your tête-à-tête, she called for my carriage to dispense the good news of your engagement to every woman in the neighborhood with a penchant for gossip.”
A loud shriek sounded beyond the door and Darcy, noting it had been left ajar, saw some movement beyond. For a moment, he thought Miss Bingley might barge in uninvited when the sound of her sister’s voice reached them.
“There, there, Caroline. It is not the end of the world. Next season, we shall display you to your best advantage, so you may capture a husband in London.”
“But I wish to be mistress of Pemberley!” came the hysterical reply.
“I know. But it appears that possibility has now vanished, so you had best forget it.”
The sound of footsteps told the two men that the ladies were departing—Darcy suspected it was more like Mrs. Hurst pulling her sister away. Either way, they were gone, and the gentlemen could now focus on their discussion.
“It seems Miss Bingley has learned of the futility of her endeavors in a way proven to be most difficult.”
Darcy snorted. “She never did have a chance. I have only ever tolerated her because of my regard for Bingley.”
Mr. Bennet’s chuckle seemed to ease his discomfort. “Perhaps, but I am certain the woman never saw it that way herself.”
“No, she did not.”
Then Mr. Bennet became serious again. “I apologize, Mr. Darcy, for my wife’s behavior. If I had known what she intended, I would have put a stop to it.”
“I have no doubt you would have.” Darcy grinned. “I suppose it is one way to ensure your daughter marries me. After what happened with Mr. Collins this morning, I can only suppose she decided she would leave nothing to chance.”
Mr. Bennet appeared surprised. “You are not angry with us because of what has happened?”
“It seems to have worked out in my favor,” replied Darcy with a shrug. “I proposed to your daughter, after all—this . . . impulsive act by your wife means I shall not be required to wait as long as I feared. Then again, now I must deal with your daughter, who, I suspect, will not be at all pleased to have her hand forced.”
“She seemed resigned, actually,” said Mr. Bennet with a snort of amusement. “However, I cannot dispute your conjecture. Lizzy is independent, and I will own I have taught her to be that way, not that she needed much persuasion from me. On the other hand, she is an intelligent girl, one who will not take umbrage when she knows it is not your fault. She might make you pay for it, but she will come around.”
“That is good to know, sir,” said Darcy. “Perhaps it would be best if I were to accompany you back to Longbourn?”
“I agree. But first, I wish to speak of your connection with this officer and decide what to do about him.”
The two gentlemen spoke for some more minutes, discussing the matter, and by the time they rose to return to Longbourn, Darcy had gained an appreciation of Mr. Bennet. Though he had not known the man well and had met him only once or twice, it was clear from whence Miss Elizabeth had inherited her intelligence and wit, not to mention her sense of humor. Darcy thought he could well withstand having this man for a father. In fact, he was looking forward to it.
Chapter VI
Mrs. Phillips was nothing if not predictable. It was fortunate she did not require much of a response, for neither of her nieces felt equal to the task. Jane was likely thinking about the situation and what she could do to help Elizabeth accustom herself to it. She might have been surprised as to the contents of Elizabeth’s thoughts.
While Elizabeth herself might have thought she would frantically try to discover a way out of the predicament in which she found herself, or considering ways to make Mr. Darcy pay for putting her into it, in actuality her thoughts were more pleasant. Yes, there was some lingering self-reproach for taking Mr. Wickham’s lies at face value and some annoyance for finding herself in such straits. However, most of her thought was concentrated on Mr. Darcy. The man had spoken to her with such affection, such gentle concern for her, that Elizabeth was beginning to believe it was possible a deeper meeting of minds could be achieved between them. The worry that he would regret her was still present, but at least she knew he loved her, and that would go a long way toward ensuring a happy future.
Self-reflection cannot continue forever, however, and soon Elizabeth’s composure was to be tested yet again. The first sign of anything out of the ordinary was the sound of loud voices approaching the house, though Elizabeth quickly recognized the voices of Kitty and Lydia and reflected such behavior was not out of the ordinary at all. When they burst into the room, Mrs. Phillips fell silent, surprised at their sudden entrance—it seemed she had been so engrossed in what she was saying she had not heard their approach.
“Lizzy!” exclaimed Lydia as soon as she entered the room, Kitty close on her heels. “I declare, I have never been so well amused in my life! Who would have thought stuffy Mr. Darcy would offer for you, and, moreover, do so on the same morning that horrid Mr. Collins proposed?”
“Certainly not I,” replied Elizabeth, reflecting it had been too much to ask that her sisters remain ignorant of the matter.
“It is even more curious that you have accepted him!” cried Kitty a moment later. “We all thought you hated the man?”
“Surely not!” exclaimed a horrified Mrs. Phillips. “You could not be so foolish as to reject a second proposal, Lizzy.”
“Hate is a strong word, Lydia,” replied Elizabeth, though she thought to herself she was very well capable of refusing another offer. She would have done it without pause had her mother not interrupted them at the wrong moment.
“I am sure he must have charmed her,” said Lydia to Kitty, giggling as she spoke.
“I had no notion Mr. Darcy possessed any charm!” rejoined Kitty, and the two girls leaned against each other, laughing.
“The gentleman is perfectly amiable,” said Jane, her tone with her sisters stern. “There is nothing the matter with him.”
“He is also a man of high society, in a position to assist your family.” Mrs. Phillips gazed at the youngest girls, her stern glare daring them to disagree. “You girls should appreciate his offer for Lizzy, for it will thrust you into society much finer than anything you have ever encountered.”
“Balls in London!” cried Lydia.
“Parties among the elite!” added Kitty.
“And we shall be the toast of the ton!” they squealed together before once again laughing with abandon.
“Let us not be too hasty,” said Elizabeth, glaring at her sisters. “Remember, you are still full young, and girls do not come out into London society until they are at least Mary’s age.”
“La, Lizzy! How droll you are. Do not worry, for we shall be content with the company of the officers for now. But you must invite us to London soon, for I long to see how those of the highest positions live!”
“I shall be ready a full two years sooner than you,” said Kitty, earning a glare from her sister.
“Well, however it shall be accomplished, I know we shall have so much fun.” Lydia paused and eyed Elizabeth.
“But it has happened so suddenly,” said Kitty. “Poor Wickham was devastated to learn of your engagement, and to the man he considers his worst enemy!”
“What do you know of Mr. Wickham’s charges against Mr. Darcy?” demanded Elizabeth.
Kitty shrugged, while Lydia, surprising Elizabeth, remained silent and watchful. “Mr. Wickham’s grievance with Mr. Darcy is known among all the officers. I have heard of it from more than one source. It is understandable that you would accept Mr. Darcy, Lizzy, for he is so very wealthy. But I still do not like him much because of what he has done to Mr. Wickham.”
“Mr. Darcy has done nothing to Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth, her forceful assertion compelling her sisters to listen to her. “In fact, the difficulties between them have all been caused by Mr. Wickham.”
“What do you mean, Lizzy?” asked Lydia, her attention unusually focused.
“Just that the living promised to Mr. Wickham was not a promise—it was conditional. Mr. Darcy gave Mr. Wickham four thousand pounds instead of the living, and Mr. Wickham had the audacity to ask for it again after.”
The girls’ eyes became wide as dinner plates.
“Four thousand pounds?” demanded Lydia.
“Why that is a veritable fortune!” exclaimed Kitty.
“And Mr. Wickham wasted it in fewer than two years’ time with his profligate ways,” said Elizabeth. “Furthermore, Mr. Wickham is a known gambler, debtor, seducer, and liar. Please, girls, have nothing further to do with him, for I would not have you hurt.”
“Bless me, who knew we had such a snake in our midst?” cried Mrs. Phillips.
The younger girls’ reactions were different, however. Kitty looked on Elizabeth, uncertainty written large on her brow. Lydia, however, seemed determined.
“Oh, you may be certain we shall not associate with Mr. Wickham,” said Lydia. “And we shall inform all the officers of his poor behavior.”
“And I shall let all of my friends know they should not invite him to their homes,” added Mrs. Phillips. “When I am finished with him, he will not be welcome from Stevenage to London!”
As Mrs. Phillips descended to muttering about libertines and their dissolute ways, Elizabeth reflected the situation with Mr. Wickham could not have turned out much better. Lydia and Kitty might not find fertile ground when they tried to inform Mr. Wickham’s colleagues about his ways, but the same would not be true for Mrs. Phillips. As one of the foremost gossips in the neighborhood, Elizabeth had no doubt Mr. Wickham’s misdeeds would be known throughout the district before sundown the next day!
Another interruption arrived then, in the person of Mrs. Bennet. A stark contrast to her nerves that morning, Mrs. Bennet glided—that was the only word for it—into the sitting-room, appearing like the proverbial cat who had gotten into the cream. Had Elizabeth been less resigned to her fate, she might have taken offense to her mother’s self-righteousness.
“What a particularly wonderful day this has been,” said she, though to no one Elizabeth could see.
“Oh, Sister!” exclaimed Mrs. Phillips. “I hurried here as soon as you left my parlor to congratulate your daughter on her conquest. What a stupendous match it will be!”
Mrs. Bennet eyed Elizabeth, waiting for her daughter to protest unless Elizabeth missed her guess. This filled Elizabeth with the determination to keep her temper, and she only favored her mother with a slight smile and waited for her to speak again.
“Yes, it will be an amazing match,” replied Mrs. Bennet when Elizabeth said nothing. “Though I will own I had thought Jane would be the one to catch a wealthy man, I have raised all my girls for greater things. Now that Lizzy has Mr. Darcy, and I am sure Jane will catch Mr. Bingley, my predictions about my daughters coming into contact with other rich men will be realized. Mark my words: I can see my Lydia capturing the interest of a viscount one day!”
“It is interesting to hear you say that, Mama,” said Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet tensed as if bracing herself for the anticipated recriminations. Elizabeth, however, fixed her with a tight smile and said: “While my sisters will have access to high society—assuming they learn to behave,” Elizabeth directed a glare at her sisters, “it is considered gauche to speak of a man’s income in polite society, and even worse to boast of hunting for other rich men.”
“Oh, I know how it is done in society,” said Mrs. Bennet. “There, they wish to marry for fortune and connections. I am sure there are many like our family who are eager to move up in the world.”
“While I cannot dispute that, there is great value in learning circumspection.” Mrs. Bennet made to respond, but Elizabeth spoke first. “Mr. Darcy himself told me this, Mama. While he loves me and wished to propose to me, your comments from last night made him pause. Mr. Darcy does not wish to be embarrassed before all his friends, especially as he has offered for a girl who cannot, after all, bring him those benefits society deems so important. Such language will do just that and cause him to reconsider.”
It was a stretch of the truth—Elizabeth knew it well. It was, not, she thought, a lie, as Mr. Darcy’s countenance the previous evening spoke to the gentleman’s feelings. If Elizabeth was to enter a marriage with the gentleman, and it seemed she now had no choice, she was determined he would face no criticism which could be attributed to her behavior, and that included her family.
It was, therefore, fortunate that an expression of horror fell over her mother’s countenance. Elizabeth could not expect her to change overnight, but perhaps she might learn to think a little before she spoke. As it was, Elizabeth doubted she could ever accept her mother or sisters into her London home, regardless of their pleas.
That was when the final interruption darted into the room—or darted as much as his heavy bulk would allow. It was Mr. Collins, and the gentleman appeared to be almost wild with distress. Behind him followed a worried Charlotte, who sent Elizabeth an apologetic glance, though Elizabeth was uncertain what her friend would have to regret.
