Conundrums & Coincidences (Mr Darcy’s Dilemmas)

Chapter 24

24

THE MULBERRY BUSH

E arlier that same morning, Darcy had urged his sister to join him in asking the Gardiners and their relations to dine at his town house before the three Bennets had to leave for Longbourn.

In the park, Georgiana had readily complied, although it was done with a diffidence that proved she was not at all in the habit of extending invitations. Mrs Gardiner had accepted with alacrity, but she looked to her niece for an indication of mutual agreement.

“I thank you, yes,” said Elizabeth. “However, I can speak for neither my father nor my sister. Which day did you have in mind?”

Darcy wondered at her perfunctory response. “The next two evenings, I fear, will be inconvenient. I imagine Mr Bennet and Miss Lydia would rather rest upon their return tomorrow. On Sundays my servants work reduced hours so they may rest. I assume you and your father will meet with Pemberton but he had been eager to see Elizabeth again and to have his future settled. Then Mr and Mrs Gardiner had invited him to remain for dinner.

A commotion in the vestibule heralded the travellers’ return and sent the two Gardiners and their niece from the parlour. When they returned, it was with an evidently grumpy Miss Lydia leading the way and an annoyed, weary-looking Mr Bennet in tow.

Darcy stood and squared his shoulders.

“Lord, Aunt, I am so tired! Going to Brighton with Harriet and Colonel Forster was such a merry lark, but today’s journey was long and tedious and—” Miss Lydia stopped short. “Lawks! Why is he here? Lizzy,” she said over her shoulder, “why is Mr Darcy, the man responsible for all Mr Wickham’s hardships, standing here in my uncle’s parlour? Papa, make him go away.”

“Hush, Lydia,” hissed her aunt. “Remember your manners.”

“Mr Darcy is our and Lizzy’s guest,” said Mr Gardiner, “and, Niece, I should like you to remember you, also, are a guest in this house.”

“Perhaps,” said Darcy, stepping up to Mrs Gardiner, “it would be best, after all, to take my leave.” He was loath to do so.

His hostess kindly insisted he remain.

During the meal, Elizabeth’s father had been neither hostile to Darcy nor willing to initiate conversation with him. When directly spoken to, Mr Bennet answered with cold civility, preferring, it seemed, to simply listen to every word and—with an unwelcoming look in his eyes—watch every move made by his favourite daughter’s suitor.

Although Darcy had been made aware of Mr Bennet’s many objections, he admitted that such a rebuff from a far less affluent country gentleman than himself was an affront. But the man was Elizabeth’s father and, therefore, worthy of clemency.

Perhaps Mr Bennet is torn between gratitude towards me for warning him about Wickham and mistrust of me where his daughter is concerned. I shall set his mind at ease; Elizabeth’s happiness depends upon my doing so.

So it was that after a dinner that included two courses of huffs and lamentations from the youngest member of the Bennet family as well as stiffness of manner and resentful silence from the eldest, Darcy requested a conference with the gentleman who—despite opposition—very soon would be his father-in-law.

The two of them sat facing one another across Mr Gardiner’s rosewood desk. Libation had been offered, but Darcy had declined, preferring to keep a clear head. He was a private person and not accustomed to divulging intimate information; but for Elizabeth, he would bare his very soul.

Frankly and eloquently, he avowed his abiding admiration and love for the man’s second daughter; and he spoke of the offer he had made at Hunsford and of being rejected and why.

“Also, for Miss Elizabeth’s sake, I secretly withdrew from the tournament so that she might have an added advantage. Please keep that to yourself. She knows nought of it.”

Mr Bennet merely raised his eyebrows. “If you are trying to convince me you are worthy of my Lizzy, you are going about it all wrong. My clever girl would have won the legacy without your forfeit.” He paused for a sip of port. “You come in here, boasting of your sacrifice and your chivalry. But, no matter what you say of such generosity, you merely want control of my daughter’s wealth.”

Fairly vibrating with indignation, Darcy put his final card upon the table. “As my wife, her fifty thousand pounds and Oakwood Manor itself will be safeguarded within the marriage settlement, in Elizabeth Darcy’s name. And, if you truly have her best interests at heart and want to maintain the special bond the two of you have shared, you will let Miss Elizabeth marry as she wishes. Withholding your consent will not achieve your goal, Mr Bennet. Once she reaches her majority, she and I shall wed, with or without your blessing. If you refuse to sanction our union, you risk estrangement from your favourite daughter.”

You do not deserve her precious love. Darcy sketched an obeisance and strode from the room, leaving the man to ponder a course of action.

Mr Bennet was right about one thing: chances are that clever Elizabeth would have won without my interference.