Chapter Three
Darcy had said no more. He astutely realized his friend had become his rival in this business with Miss Bennet. It was more than evident that Bingley was quite taken with the lady, and Darcy was also well aware his friend could be more sociable than was he.
He also knew Bingley was the type to fall in love with one woman this week and a completely different woman the next. As he sat up late into the night watching the dying embers in his bedroom grate, he decided he should woo Miss Bennet while he might still be able to win her acceptance.
“If I can claim the lady’s agreement within the next couple of weeks, we could be married by the end of October. Such would provide me some fourteen months to bring her to child—to produce a nine-month baby. If the child is a boy, all will be well. If not, a female child would prove the lady capable of producing an heir, which Lord Matlock is confident would go a long way in saving Pemberley in an argument before the court.”
A plan in place, Darcy undressed so he might sleep. He would call upon Miss Bennet in the morning hours and begin his courtship. He had asked Sheffield to order flowers to be delivered to the lady at Mr. Gardiner’s home. Darcy had written what he hoped was a prosaic note. He was not accustomed to writing to a lady, and, in the end, Sheffield had suggested a line from an Earl of Essex’s letter to Queen Elizabeth. “It will speak of your honest regard, but offer only the promise of future affection,” Sheffield assured.
Therefore, Darcy wrote a note where he modified Essex’s words to offer Miss Bennet his admiration, but not yet unmatchable steadfastness.
You may deny me the liberty to speak of my hopes of constancy; yet, I know the sweetness of your nature shall not permit such a great bitterness. It is not in your power to make me admire you less.
He had never thought to write such a note to anyone, but assuredly not to a stranger. “All an iffy proposition,” he mumbled as he blew out the candle on the side table. As he closed his eyes, he said the words into the night, “I apologize, Father. I would say this was not how you saw my life. Neither did I. Yet, in addition to promising you that I would know happiness, I promised you I would allow nothing to happen to Pemberley. It appears I must choose which is most important, and I have done so, for, above all else, Pemberley must stand as a pledge to future generations of Darcys. As to Miss Bennet, she is tolerable, but not enough to tempt me into marriage if not for the codicil Bertram Darcy legally means to press.”
The following morning, Darcy dressed in a tightly-cut morning coat of dark brownand wore light brown pantaloons to call on Miss Bennet in Milk Street. Being unaccustomed to making calls upon young ladies, especially at a house in Cheapside, Darcy was surprised to view another half dozen callers on this day. Moreover, he had spent more time speaking to Mrs. Gardiner than he had to Miss Bennet.
“The roses are quite lovely,” Miss Bennet told him during one of their brief exchanges of conversation, though she kept her eyes downcast. Whoever had first taught women to pretend meekness should be horsewhipped to within an inch of his life.
“I chose the yellow roses,” he explained. “Yellow roses were a favorite of my late mother. I hoped they would be yours also. We grow several rare species at Pemberley.”
Miss Bennet smiled sweetly on him. “I dearly love all flowers. We have a sizable garden at Longbourn, although I admit my sister Elizabeth is the one among us who is the most successful in coaxing a seed to take root and grow.”
Miss Bennet’s response was not the reaction for which Darcy had hoped, but he asked, “Did you recognize the liberties I took with the quote?”
She blushed briefly. “I must admit, I did not.” She paused before adding, “We did not have a governess at home, though Elizabeth and I attended school in Bath for two years before our father insisted we remain at home. You see, Mr. Bennet depends heavily on Elizabeth to assist him with the estate books. My mother says Elizabeth is cut from the same cloth as our father, though such is not completely true.”
“Are you saying Miss Elizabeth would have recognized the quote?” he asked in perplexity.
Miss Bennet blushed prettily. “I assuredly did not explain myself well. You must pardon my scattered thoughts. I am completely unaccustomed to all this attention.”
Despite her modesty, Darcy imagined the woman drew “attention” wherever she traveled.
She continued, “My father is a great reader. It is rare for him to be without a book in his hand. My sister Elizabeth follows Mr. Bennet’s lead. They can recite whole Shakespeare plays from memory.”
As could Darcy, but he did not say so. Instead, he explained, “The inscription was not from Shakespeare, but rather from a letter written by the Earl of Essex to Queen Elizabeth.”
“Then I am assured . . .” she began, but Mr. Withers interrupted them, and her response was lost. After that, the lady was quite unreceptive to Darcy’s painful attempts at conversation. He was, generally, more polished when speaking one-on-one to his partner than attempting to have an advantage over Miss Bennet’s other suitors. Therefore, when he departed the Gardiner house, Darcy was not confident the lady would accept him even if he proposed.
As he had never wooed a young lady, therefore, Darcy sought his cousin Lindale’s advice, meaning Darcy continued to send Miss Bennet flowers each day, though he had chosen to send her a mix of whatever was the freshest on that particular day. He called upon her daily, took her driving in one of the parks each afternoon, and attended a variety of entertainments so he might converse with her or dance with her or be seated beside her at the theatre or a evening of music.
To his frustration, she continued to appear nervous when he extended his hand to lead her on the dance floor and with other everyday situations. Though Darcy thought she would accept him, for he had learned bits and pieces of her family’s situation, having multiple daughters and the Bennet estate being entailed upon another line of the family tree, he questioned himself more than her. She would do what was necessary to be placed in a position to protect her family. He would be settling for an “agreement,” and not “affection.” Could he tolerate her uninspiring comments on all the subjects upon which he offered to start a conversation? Could he regularly visit her bed for reasons beyond her comely countenance and appealing figure, as each would eventually die away? He had never considered a mistress; yet, in the future, would he require something beyond his wife’s commonplace observations and obedience to keep him from going a bit crazy himself?
He was, however, pleased with how well Miss Bennet handled Mrs. Gardiner’s children. The lady showed her younger cousins her affection while gently disciplining them when they misbehaved. Darcy would not tolerate his future children being abused for the crime of simply being a curious child exploring life.
One afternoon, a little over a week into their acquaintance, while out driving in the park, the lady uncustomarily presented Darcy with a warm smile. “Is that not your acquaintance Mr. Bingley approaching on horseback?”
“I believe it is,” he said, suddenly wondering why the lady rarely presented him with such a smile. He maneuvered his carriage to the side so others could continue along the driving trail and waited for Bingley to stop beside them.
“Darcy,” Bingley said, tipping his hat. “Miss Bennet, well met.”
“I have not seen you in more than a week,” Darcy remarked.
“I was called to Hurst’s estate. Caroline wished to join me in London. She and Louisa and Hurst arrived two days prior. We all traveled to Buckinghamshire to view a possible estate to let,” Bingley explained.
“Then you have eliminated the possibility of Netherfield Park?” Miss Bennet asked with what sounded of disappointment.
“I never heard back from the land agent, and my sisters believe Buckinghamshire would be more impressive than Hertfordshire. No dukes live in Hertfordshire, or some such nonsense.”
Miss Bennet studied her fingers. “Naturally,” she said without looking up to Bingley again. “You must be in an area where others will associate your tenancy with the aristocracy. My Uncle Gardiner has said something similar regarding returning to Hertfordshire.” She looked up to Bingley then and said, “I wish you the best in your endeavors, sir.” To Darcy, she said, “We should return to Milk Street. I promised Aunt Gardiner I would assist with the children. She and uncle are to attend the opera this evening.”
“As you wish, my dear,” he said. He was excessively pleased when the lady laced her hands about his elbow.
Darcy glanced to Bingley to say his farewells, but his friend had already turned his horse to ride in the direction Darcy and Miss Bennet had come.
Later, as Darcy escorted Miss Bennet to her uncle’s door, he asked, “Would you object if I called on your uncle tomorrow morning?”
“I would . . . would be . . . excessively . . . honored, Mr. Darcy,” she said with downcast eyes.
He had actually hoped for more enthusiasm, but Darcy knew women were taught to hide their emotions. Such is what his mother had often said when George Darcy would playfully admonish Lady Anne for jumping in the lake before Pemberley House while still wearing one of her best gowns.
Darcy merely offered the lady a brief word of gratitude before leaving immediately to write a note to Lord Matlock regarding his intentions to propose to Miss Jane Bennet. As he settled again behind the reins of the horse for his return to Darcy House, he wondered if the world as he knew it would keep spinning or whether his heart would break with sadness. Doing one’s duty was hard for any man, but especially one who had always envisioned something more spectacular in his life.
The Bennets had finished their breakfast and had gone about their usual entertainments. Mr. Bennet, as was customary for him, had retired to his study, and Elizabeth had followed him.
“I wish we had a letter from Jane. She has been in London for nearly two weeks, and we have only heard of which entertainments Aunt Gardiner had chosen to attend.”
“I wish it was not necessary for Jane to save you and your sisters,” her father replied, having sat heavily in his chair. “I should have laid by an annual sum for the provision of my children and wife, that is, if your mother survives me. We are indebted enough to your Uncle Gardiner for whatever honor or credit he purchased for Lydia. The satisfaction of prevailing on one of the most worthless young men in Great Britain to be Lydia’s husband might then have rested in its proper place.”
“Pardon, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Hill said with a light tap on the open door before entering. “This post was delivered to the kitchen rather than the main door. It is from Mr. Gardiner and he had given specific directions to the rider to do so.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hill,” Mr. Bennet said as he accepted the letter. “Was the rider paid?”
“Yes, sir, and given a bit to eat, as well as permission to rest and water his horse before his return to London.”
“Good. Depending on what this says, I may require him to return a message to Gardiner.”
“I suspected so, sir. I will check with you before the rider leaves.”
When Mrs. Hill disappeared, Elizabeth asked, “Do you suppose Jane has already received an offer of marriage?” Elizabeth feared her eldest sister might sacrifice herself for the family’s good.
Her father opened the letter and read it through before handing it off to Elizabeth, who read it twice. The realization of Jane’s arrangement had struck Elizabeth in a different manner than it would any other in the family. She already briefly held an acquaintance with her eldest sister’s intended.
“If you would fetch your mother and sisters to the sitting room while I craft a note to Gardiner in agreement, I would appreciate it. Do not tell them the nature of what we must discuss, though I am confident they will all know my intent. Do what you may to calm your mother’s famous ‘nerves.’”
“Are you not, at least, going to meet with Jane and determine her affection for the man?” Elizabeth protested.
“Elizabeth, you know how dearly I adore you, but there are times your passion does not meet society's strictures. According to my Brother Gardiner, Jane’s young man has a sizable income and owns an estate of which your Aunt Gardiner is quite familiar and of which she speaks in glorious terms. Moreover, your Aunt Gardiner’s brother is employed by the gentleman. Neither your aunt nor Samuel Ericks would permit Jane to marry an ogre.”
Elizabeth thought “ogre” perfectly described the gentleman, but she swallowed her future objections. Instead, she said, “Yes, sir.”
“I always know when you are angry with me,” her father said, “for you call me ‘sir,’ rather than ‘papa.’”
Elizabeth did not respond. Instead, she darted away to do her father’s bidding. First, she sought out her sisters. “Our father wishes to speak to us in ten minutes in Mama’s sitting room.”
“Has Jane accepted a proposal already?” Mary asked.
“Only a bit over a sennight,” Kitty said in amazement.
“I do not know the details, but there is a letter from Uncle Gardiner,” Elizabeth lied.
Leaving her sisters to their conjectures, minutes later, she found her mother already in the sitting room. Mrs. Bennet was stretched out on a settee, a cold compress on her forehead, and a large shawl spread across her legs.
“Who is there?” her mother asked, not opening her eyes or sitting upright.
“It is me, Mama. Papa asked me to gather everyone in this room. Should I make arrangements for another room? I would not have you bothered if you still have a headache. I know they are most troublesome for you.”
“No,” Mrs. Bennet said as she lifted the damp hand towel from her eyes, “but thank you, Lizzy, for your consideration.”
Elizabeth assisted her mother to a seated position, just as her sisters entered, with their father following quickly on Kitty’s and Mary’s heels.
He waited until they were all seated before he cleared his throat to say, “I have received a letter this morning from my Brother Gardiner.”
Beside her, Mrs. Bennet whimpered, and Elizabeth snaked an arm about her mother’s shoulder to comfort her.
“I have instructed Mr. Gardiner in a letter sent moments earlier to deliver my acceptance of a proposal from one Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, which was extended to our Jane and accepted by her.”
“The same Mr. Darcy who presented Cousin Samuel a living?” Mary asked softly.
Elizabeth was a bit surprised Mary was aware of the man and that her sister had been communicating with Samuel Ericks. Evidently, without her knowing, Mr. Bennet had privately presented the two permission to correspond, for Samuel Ericks was not the type to do so in a clandestine manner.
Mr. Bennet said, “Such is what your uncle has indicated.”
“Is this a good thing for Jane?” Kitty asked tentatively.
Mary frowned, but she said, “Mr. Darcy is reportedly quite rich. He owns a large estate in Derbyshire. Mr. Ericks speaks highly of the man’s generosity and his willingness to support the community around the village outside his estate.”
Mr. Bennet added, “Your Aunt Madelyn’s family is very familiar with the Darcy estate. It is the largest in the area where she was born. She finds the young man a bit ‘unyielding,’ but not in a malicious manner. Madelyn describes Jane’s suitor as being a remake of his father. Yet, she swears the former Mr. Darcy was both generous and honorable.
“I have extended an invitation to the young man to call upon us when Jane returns to Longbourn in three days’ time or before if he sees fit. Mrs. Bennet, you will see that appropriate quarters are available for Mr. Darcy and possibly his cousin also, according to Mr. Gardiner. Such will provide us an opportunity to learn more of Jane’s young man.”
As a means to stifle her family’s gossipy nature, her father declared, “I will be greatly displeased if when I go into Meryton that I am polluted with questions about Jane’s intended. Our spreading news of everything that goes on in this house permitted Mr. Wickham to prey upon Lydia’s lack of sensibilities. I pray you each learned a lesson in that manner. Let us not turn Jane’s young man away with silly gossip and praise for the militia.”