A Quiet Affection (Mr. Underwood’s Elizabeth & Darcy Stories)

Chapter One

In the early years of the nineteenth century, shortly after the First Consul’s refusal to remove his unruly troops from the Netherlands caused the resumption of hostilities between Britain and France, a tragedy occurred in the environs of a market town in Hertfordshire.

Most of the family, along with Mrs. Hill the housekeeper and two young maids, were killed in the conflagration.

Only two members of Mr. Bennet’s large family were spared.

The oldest girl had not been present at Longbourn, as Miss Jane Bennet was staying for the summer with her godfather, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.

Elizabeth, the second oldest of Mr. Bennet’s five daughters, survived the conflagration despite being asleep in her room when it began. However, her condition was such that it was generally agreed that it would have been better for her if she had died.

In the process of her escape, a collapsing beam crushed Elizabeth’s youngest sister, whose hand Elizabeth was holding as they ran through the smoke and flames together.

In its fall, the beam sprayed embers onto Elizabeth’s face, severely burning her, which left extensive scars and such damage to her eyes as to leave her without the use of sight.

At the time Miss Elizabeth Bennet was not quite twelve years of age, and for more than a week her own survival had been in great question.

However, she survived the fever and was left to the questionable enjoyment of a life bereft of sight—the joy that a blackened world could provide, which could not be much joy at all.

Mr. Bennet’s closest friend was the already mentioned Mr. Darcy.

They had become the finest of friends while at university.

They studied together, lived in the same lodgings, found adventures together, and argued over texts scientific, philosophic, and ancient.

This affectionate connection remained with great strength for the whole time they both lived.

Mr. Bennet had married late, having spent his time while his father lived in university towns or visiting his friend Darcy to enjoy the great library at Pemberley.

Mr. Bennet’s father had liked neither learning, nor clever conversation, nor, in fact, his son.

The allowance that Mr. Bennet lived on was not substantial, and when Mr. Bennet’s father died, he only inherited the entailed estate and various unsecured personal debts that were his legal, but not moral, right to ignore.

Shortly after Mr. Bennet inherited, he married the prettiest young girl in the neighborhood, a woman twenty years his junior. When the birth of his first daughter followed a little more than a year later, he naturally asked his closest friend to stand as godfather.

Jane Bennet was one of those children of such exquisite beauty and softness as to make all around them happier, and who make poets write maudlin poems about how such creatures inevitably die before they reach the age of full understanding, since the angels wish the return of one of their number.

Unfortunately for all melancholic souls, despite her beauty Jane Bennet was a healthy girl, who grew weedlike and never gave concern on any grounds, physical or moral, to her family. For his part, each time he saw her, Mr. Darcy was more charmed by his goddaughter.

Mr. Darcy was a man from an ancient, though untitled family, and he owned substantial property in Derbyshire.

His estate was widely considered one of the greatest in a neighborhood which included Chatsworth and Hardwick Hall.

He was a tall, handsome man, with great abilities, a dedication to work, and an abnormal capacity to control the little in his nature that was impulsive.

Everything he did was considered. He married the sister of an earl, and his neighbors thought highly of his abilities.

However, the coldness and pride of his manner made it impossible for him to be really liked by anyone who did not know him intimately.

While Mr. Darcy only had two children—for a long time only one—this gentleman made a small compensation for that lack through a fortunate choice of godchildren.

His godson was the son of Mr. Darcy’s devoted steward: A young boy who had been named ‘George’ in honor of Mr. Darcy.

This steward, Mr. Wickham, not only served Darcy loyally, he also was the only friend whom Mr. Darcy held as closely in his heart as Mr. Bennet.

George Wickham was one of the most handsome and charming young boys in the world, with delighted eyes, an easy smile, and a way of slyly convincing one that everything was well when he was about mischief.

In George’s appearance and good nature, he was an excellent match for Jane Bennet.

Thus, it was natural that when Jane Bennet was about five years old that the thought arose in Mr. Darcy’s mind that it would be a favorable thing if the two children were to marry when they grew up.

While there are many who will, upon the flimsiest of pretexts, unite in their wishes any pair of unmarried persons whom they encounter, beyond a general wish to see the happiness of others promoted, Mr. Darcy had a particular reason for favoring such a match.

Mr. Darcy's longstanding affection for his friends did not blind him to their many faults.

Mr. Wickham was blessed with an ample income for his position in life from the business he conducted for Pemberley estate and his many opportunities to supplement that income.

Despite this, Darcy’s friend worked himself ragged for the beautiful, charming, and expensive woman who fundamentally lacked respectability whom he had married.

He worked long days and borrowed as much as he could from his friends so that Mrs. Wickham could gamble, keep a nice carriage, and make a pretense of being the sartorial equal of Lady Anne Darcy.

Mr. Wickham’s obsessive love for his wife was not reduced by his knowledge—shared by the whole neighborhood—that Mrs. Wickham had sinned against their vows.

The intense feeling of shame and jealousy that he felt because he knew his wife preferred the beds of other men made him more desperate for her approval and more willing to humiliate and pain himself to get for her that which she wished.

It was unseemly. It would be better for all, including Mrs. Wickham, if Mr. Wickham restrained and controlled his wife.

But, while he wished to help his friend, Mr. Darcy was too wise to declare war upon the seas and tides, as Caligula had.

A gentleman wholly besotted with a woman could not be reasoned with. His friends could only hope and pray that the object of their boon companion’s affection and obsession would not lead them into the worst forms of ruin.

In Mr. Darcy’s experience, the sorts of women who infatuated and obsessed men tended to be of much worse character than those who merely roused ordinary gentlemanly interest, affection, and desire.

Mr. Darcy always thanked the Almighty during his nightly prayers that his own affections had been engaged in a quieter way.

He had much to thank Providence for—and he was always diligent in proffering this gratitude.

His love for Lady Anne was compatible with reason; it left him with the use of his good faculties, and it did not demand anything from him which his judgement did not approve of.

Further, and of great importance, Lady Anne was worthy of the Darcy of Pemberley in her breeding, fortune, connections, character, and temperament.

This all was by no means amongst the least of the gifts that he had received from the great arranger of all.

Mr. Darcy made a concerted effort to make his son Fitzwilliam understand the dangers that the so-called gentler sex presented.

The poor character of Mrs. Wickham was constantly pointed out to his son and contrasted with the prudent, generous, and well-bred character of Fitzwilliam’s own mother.

Mr. Darcy made his son promise to seriously consider the character of his wife and not only her fortune and figure.

Many women were beautiful, and there were enough of them with sufficient fortune and connections to be worthy of him.

He must pick one whom he would not regret.

In these lectures, Mr. Darcy warned his son that passions and infatuations could not be wholly avoided: The nature of Man was to become obsessed with Woman.

Such had nearly happened to Mr. Darcy himself during his university days, but a cold dunk in the river, a run in the woods, and a long dispute about the correct translation of a line from Xenophon with Mr. Bennet had been sufficient to let him forget the unsuitable (but respectable) woman.

What must be done when such cravings, desires, and an erroneous belief in the perfection of a particular woman arose, was to remind oneself that all this was an illusion.

The beloved object was merely another sack of skin glued to meat and fat.

She was destined to decay and be eaten by the worms, just as he was.

Her beauty was a surface; it was film placed over his eyes by the devil to bring a man into sin, or, worse, foolishness.

Mr. Darcy told Fitzwilliam that he expected for his son to avoid sin as well as foolishness.

Mr. Darcy had rigid notions of what he expected of himself, and of what he owed to the world.

He would despise himself if he raised a son who could engage sinfully in the matrimonial act.

Concupiscence was for lesser men. Yes, though he would never say this aloud, Mr. Darcy included the sons of his beloved king under the appellation of ‘lesser men’.

They were controlled by the lusts of their flesh.

He demanded better from himself. He demanded better from his son. He demanded better from a Darcy.