A Mutual Accord

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

R osings Park,

Hunsford, Kent

Miss Bennet,

I find that I must travel to Eastbourne to seek the advice of a doctor who might be of assistance to me. In light of the ruined prospects for the summer, which you and my nieces anticipated, you will accompany me. Georgiana and Lady Priscilla will collect you in Darcy’s carriage on the third of May, and we will travel to Eastbourne from Rosings Park. Darcy will join us later, as you had all originally planned. If she has earned the distinction, and your mother approves, your youngest sister may accompany you. Or, even if she has not earned it, in which case, tell your mother to send her anyway, and I will see what I can make of her. Miss Bingley proved a challenge, but she polished up well enough.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh

Lydia had improved greatly, though she was often still loud and over enthusiastic. Her mother had eventually allowed her to accompany Jane and Elizabeth to Netherfield often to spend time with Kitty and Miss Darcy. With four older sisters grown up, three of them trusted implicitly by their parents, and with the good examples available at Netherfield in Lady Priscilla, Georgiana, and her companion Mrs Annesley, Mr and Mrs Bennet decided that since Mr Bennet had Lydia’s academic education firmly in hand, they would wait to consider hiring a governess, and see what Lydia could learn from the other women willing to teach her. She was never taken anywhere that she might encounter single men other than those from Netherfield. She attended no events, instead, when the Bennets and the Netherfield party attended events that Georgiana did not, Lydia went to Netherfield and spent the evening with that young lady and her companion, or sometimes those ladies joined her at Longbourn. Though Lydia was still often loud and crass, Mr Darcy still felt that her friendship drew Georgiana out of her shell. Georgie knew better than to act as Lydia did, indeed, she would never draw such attention to herself. She understood that she was meant to be setting an example of good manners for the girl, and that in turn, Lydia was to give Georgie some courage and liveliness.

Everyone’s time had been well spent since Mary’s engagement dinner. William still held the Hunsford living, but he gave his curate a respectable raise, and Lady Catherine allowed that young man to move into the parsonage. The man was a bachelor, of course, and so he managed very well with only one kitchen maid, particularly considering that Rosings Park’s home farm and his parishioners kept him well stocked in poultry, dairy, and vegetables. William was managing about the same at Meryton's parsonage as he prepared for his marriage. He had found a competent curate to assist him in Meryton, who was boarding for free with him at the parsonage until the wedding, then the man would occupy one of Netherfield’s cottages, also for free, by the generosity of Sir Henry and Mr Bingley. The young man was a year or two younger than William, and also full of energy. He would be an enormous help to William as he learned his duties in Meryton.

Jane had thrown herself into teaching Mr Bingley what she knew about caring for tenants, and what the man learned from Darcy and Mr Bennet was indispensable. Sir Henry was not intending to sell Netherfield, his nephew would inherit it, but Bingley had toured the Great House at Stoke with Jane on two occasions, and planned to rent it for a year when his lease at Netherfield was up if he married Jane. If the two of them liked it well enough by the end of the lease, he would make the owner an offer. The behaviour of Mrs Bennet and her younger sisters had settled enough that Jane no longer felt it necessary to live too far away from her home, and Bingley had no objection; he liked the Bennets.

The two had begun to accompany Darcy and Elizabeth throughout the winter on their early morning walks, it being an excellent time to talk alone with one another about matters of importance without being observed by their families and neighbours. Jane and Bingley spoke of everything, how many children they might wish to have, how much time they might like to spend in town, how much travelling they might do as a married couple, how they wished their children to be raised, whether they would attend schools or be educated at home, their feelings on gambling, mistresses, and other vices, the possibility of sharing one bedroom as a married couple, how much they would like to see of their families, how much should be provided for daughters and younger sons, and how their fortune would be allocated upon their deaths. All of these matters were discussed, and more, for Bingley and Jane were both determined that they would be in perfect harmony with their mate, and left nothing to chance.

Darcy and Elizabeth also believed that one could not possibly know enough about their future mates before they wed. They discussed everything that Jane and Bingley spoke of and more, for Darcy and Elizabeth were more complicated souls than Jane and Bingley. Jane and Bingley were simple, happy people, who did not read extensively, and were content with tending estates, riding, and other genteel pursuits such as embroidery, or billiards, in Bingley’s case. Darcy and Elizabeth were both excessively intelligent. They both read extensively on many subjects, had interests that they liked to discuss at length, followed current events and the news with attentiveness, and required intellectual stimulation to feed their souls. In addition to all of the practical matters pertaining to marriage and raising a family, they also discussed their intellectual and philanthropic interests in detail, each relishing the other’s contribution to their deepening friendship.

Elizabeth believed that she was nearly ready for Darcy to ask for her hand, and hoped that he would this summer in Eastbourne. She had decided that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, was the answer to all of her desires. It would be a union that must be greatly advantageous to both. By her ease and liveliness, his reserve might be softened, his manners improved; and from his judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she would benefit from an education of great importance. When he left for Derbyshire with his cousin and sister, just a few days after Lady Catherine and Anne departed for Kent, the two began a correspondence through his sister and her father, neither of whom felt the need to open their missives to read them. Emboldened by the safety of complete privacy, and the feeling of liberation the distance gave them, they quickly began to express their romantic feelings freely. It had not taken them long to begin pining for one another, and their yearning led them both to convey quite openly the depths of their feelings. She had already decided that when he asked, she would accept him. She was looking forward to making him aware of her feelings on the matter, and encouraging him to proceed when he was ready when they met this summer by the seaside.

The visit to London had occurred in January, and had been a magical time for the courting couples. Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary spent one month on Gracechurch Street with their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, while Darcy and Bingley spent one month at Darcy House. Mr Collins spent two weeks at Darcy House as well, while Mr Stringer looked after the parish for a short time before he departed for Stevenage. Mr Collins was in awe of the lifestyle enjoyed by Mr Darcy and even Mr Bingley, who was reported to be only half as rich. The two households attended the opera and the theatre, Vauxhall, the museums, and Gunters. They also treated Mrs Gardiner’s children to an outing at the Royal Menagerie. When Mr Collins returned to Meryton, Mary spent a fortnight shopping for her trousseau, while the other two ladies went on outings daily with their beaux. The two households dined together almost every night, as well as with the Viscount Carlisle and his wife, and a few of Darcy's closest connections. They attended two incredible balls, Jane and Elizabeth had been loaned jewels from the Darcy collection, and the ladies felt like princesses by the time they returned to Meryton. Mary, still modest and pious, refused the loan of any jewels. The visit had been a marvellous opportunity for the young people to experience some interesting activities together by day, as well as some magical moments by night.

Elizabeth had the joy of seeing her best friend wed just before leaving Hertfordshire. In late February, a Mr Knightley arrived in Meryton and visited Mr Phillips. A widow was moving south with her young family, and was in the market to buy a small estate near London. Mrs Barton was the daughter of a gentleman who had married a tradesman. His eldest son from a previous marriage had inherited his business, but Mrs Barton had been left a generous sum, and instructions to purchase a small estate on which to raise their younger son and daughter. Ten year old Dorothy Barton had been left ten thousand pounds for her dowry, and her brother, eight year old Arthur, would inherit the estate upon his mother’s death. Dorothy had a lung complaint that never exposed itself outside of Manchester, Mrs Barton maintained that it was the dust of the cotton mills that caused the problem, that and the colder climate of the north. Mrs Barton’s sister was married to a gentleman from Ware, so the warmer climate of Meryton and the proximity to her sister was very attractive to Mrs Barton. Abominable attics deemed irrelevant, Purvis Lodge was purchased, and Mr Barton’s friend, Mr Knightley, who was also the trustee of their fortune, spent a month in Meryton accepting shipments of the family’s possessions and new furniture, and creating accounts for Mrs Barton with all of the shops.

Mr and Mrs Phillips were social people, and would not hear of the man staying in the village without some society. He was invited everywhere during his time in Hertfordshire. Mrs Bennet was truly at a loss at how to behave around the man when she had no daughter to throw at him. Hedgerows or no hedgerows, even Mrs Bennet agreed that a man her own age was far too old for seventeen year old Kitty, and Lydia would not be out again for some time yet. There was no need to rush the younger girls, considering the prospects of the elder. Mrs Bennet was certain that both of her eldest daughters would accept their gentleman when they were asked, and even if one of them were so stubborn and foolish as to decline, the other would surely see sense and accept. Mr Knightley dined at Longbourn, Lucas Lodge, Haye Park, and every other house in town in the evenings, and seemed to be quickly drawn to Charlotte Lucas. All through the month of March the two seemed to find endless excuses to run into one another, and they spoke constantly when in company.

Elizabeth found the man rather dry and stern, but then again, Fitzwilliam was stern, and she found the joy in him and drew it out with ease. Perhaps Mr Knightley had a joyful side as well. He seemed to light up when in conversation with her friend, who glowed and looked lovelier than ever under his attention. One evening at a party at Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth did not eavesdrop on purpose, but the party was crowded, even for one of Sir William’s gatherings. It was a rather intimate conversation to be having in such a venue, and Elizabeth could not help but overhear. Charlotte had just made a joke about how many ladies Mr Knightley must have disappointed in Highbury over the years to make it to one and forty without ever having been married.

“In Meryton you would have been run out of the village, sir,” Charlotte teased. “The matrons are everything welcoming to you now, but that is because you have not been plaguing their nerves for years with your refusal to select a wife. Poor Mr William Goulding is but a year my junior, and he is speaking of leaving the county to pay an extended visit to Bath, and not return until after he weds. Five years it has been since he came down from Cambridge, and it is obvious he has no affinity for anyone in the village. The matrons have begun to snub him cruelly. They do not like that their daughters are not good enough for him.”

“Poor man,” he said. “There is every chance the man is waiting for your sister, or some other girl hereabouts to be old enough. Tell them to give him time.”

“You sound like you speak from experience,” Charlotte observed.

“I do. There is a lady back home, who I thought had an ethereal beauty about her when she entered womanhood,” he confessed. “Please understand, I have not been coveting this girl through her growth. She is beautiful, but there was something about her that I thought might grow to be incomparable. The lady has been old enough to wed for some three or four years, but something has prevented me from asking for her. As much as I admire her, I did not come to love her romantically as she grew up the way I thought I might. Even as a woman she is immature, and it is not always attractive upon her.”

“If she is only three or four years grown up, she will certainly mature a great deal more in only a few years,” pointed out Charlotte. “I know I matured greatly by the time I was three and twenty.”

“No. My ideal of her as a woman does not meet with reality, and it is my own fault. I had no right to create any such ideal. It was a foolish fancy on my part. She is not a bad person, her heart is in the right place, and she has good intentions. But I do not like her manner of entertaining herself by playing with the feelings and futures of her neighbours. She treats all around her – her friends, her governess, the local spinsters, every young man she meets – as if they are dolls or playthings. She attempts to direct their hearts, and is shocked if she is wrong or they go their own way. We are family. Her sister is married to my brother. I have spent too much time with her in her youth to see her romantically now. All of the chastising I have done regarding her behaviour does not incline me towards love. I cannot see her as anything but a younger sister. It has been some time since I accepted that I wish to marry a grown up lady, with a true woman’s heart. Someone closer to my age, who treats others with genuine compassion and friendship. A woman I might be proud to share my name with.”

It was blatantly obvious that Mr Knightley was informing Charlotte that he believed he had found his match. His voice held more warmth and emotion that Elizabeth had heard in it since he had arrived in Meryton.

Charlotte flushed prettily, and said, “Whoever she is will be a lucky woman.”

“The good fortune shall all be mine if she will only agree,” Mr Knightley said with great feeling. The pair watched the young people dancing on the other side of the room for a moment before the man seemed to gather his courage and spoke again. “May I request the honour of a private audience with you tomorrow, Miss Lucas?”

“You may,” answered Charlotte happily.

Mr Knightley kissed her hand, making her blush again, and left her. Seconds later, Elizabeth barreled into her, hugging her best friend and spinning her around with joy. “I knew how it would be!” Elizabeth cried, then embraced her friend again. The following evening, Sir William Lucas announced the betrothal of his eldest daughter at the Meryton assembly. Charlotte danced every dance, and was radiant with joy. Mr Knightley suddenly no longer seemed as dry and stern. The man smiled animatedly and was profuse with his thanks as the locals gave him their congratulations, and complimented him on being the fortunate man to see what a jewel there was to be found in their Miss Lucas.

Elizabeth stood up with Charlotte in Meryton’s church the second week in April, as her cousin led the couple in their vows and pronounced them husband and wife. Charlotte was more beautiful than she had ever looked before, and Mr George Knightley was ecstatic as he handed his wife up into his carriage after the wedding breakfast as the couple departed for Bath for two months before going to Highbury.