Chapter Nineteen
The following day, we had news that Miss Bingley had accepted Mr. Bennet’s proposal, and we all went round to Netherfield, Lady Susannah included, to offer our congratulations.
I did my best to hide my disapproval, for it was none of my affair in the end, but at the end of the visit, Bennet cornered me and told me in a low voice that he had done as I suggested and told her the truth.
“She said yes anyway?”
“Yes, of course she did,” he said. “Her life will change very little, and it is good for Bingley and me. It ties us together.”
“Aye, I see that,” I said. “It is quite good for you. But is it good for her?”
“She has agreed, all right? And Charles is angry with me for telling her. He is not even a bit pleased, so I hope you are happy with yourself.”
He really did not like me, I could see that. There was a rancor to his tone that bespoke his feelings for me.
I think I might have decided it then, that if it would make things more pleasant for my Elizabeth, that I should not go with them in August. It would not mean that I would never travel with them, after all, simply that I would not travel with them on this first jaunt.
Perhaps, with time, I might mend things with James Bennet, and then he and I might become fast friends, and perhaps then, everything would be different.
I did not say anything to Elizabeth about the plan, however, for the two of us to go off to Pemberley and for her to spend two months with her brother in the late summer and early autumn, until after the dinner we had with her parents.
Bennet was there, and he was polite to me, and I to him. His parents said very little to each other, though Mrs. Bennet dominated the conversation at the table, speaking in her velvet alto voice at length about seemingly any topic that crossed her mind.
She and Miss Bingley were really more alike than they might think, and I thought how much such a thought might embarrass Miss Bingley.
“I am only ever so happy that I have no more worries about marriage,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Both my children are settled, and there is entirely no scandal, even though Lizzy behaved abominably—”
“Mother,” broke in Bennet. “Let us never bring that up again.”
“I have to say that I am surprised,” I said. “Because right after it happened, there was so much talk of it, and I thought it would only grow and change and become worse.”
“We were lucky,” said Bennet.
His father laughed softly. “I imagine luck had little to do with it, and it is much more to lay at the feet of James here, who went about telling everyone that poor Lizzy only did it because of Lady Susannah’s edict.”
“What?” said Elizabeth, furrowing her brow. “What did you do, James?”
He sighed, shrugging at me. “Well, it was your husband’s idea to conceal it, and I could not do that, so I cast you as a victim.”
“I was a victim,” said Elizabeth. “I was a victim of the lying and conniving Mr. Wickham.”
“No one feels sorry for women who are victims of men,” said Mrs. Bennet. “Everyone knows that women should simply be on their guard, not to be taken in by them.”
“I think that may be true,” said James Bennet.
“However, I do think it is rather sad, if so. But at any rate, I went on about how it was that Mr. Darcy went to prevail upon Lady Susannah and this was all anyone could talk about instead, how Lady Susannah had been so very unfair to deny poor Lizzy the chance to marry. And everyone thought it was romantic that Mr. Darcy was so interested, even after everything.”
“They are talking about that?” I said, feeling a bit out of sorts.
“They are,” said James Bennet.
“You cast me as some sort of hero? I would not have expected that from you.”
“I did what I could for my sister,” he said.
“Now, you are married and as respectable as anything, and all anyone wishes to talk about is how you managed to marry her and let her keep her inheritance, and how you do not even need it, so it will stay in a trust for Lizzy should she ever be widowed and all of that.”
“I should like to leave Trawlings to one of our daughters, if we have any who are so inclined not to marry,” said Elizabeth brightly.
“A woman not inclined to marry?” I said. “She simply hasn’t met the right man.”
James Bennet glared at me.
Elizabeth did too. “Sometimes, husband, the things that come out of your mouth make me livid.”
I met her gaze. “Do they. Well, how unfortunate for you.”
She smirked at me. “I shall have to have it out with you later, I think.”
I smirked back. “I shall look forward to entertaining your perspective.”
She flushed, looking around the table. “Er, perhaps we must change the subject, do you not think? There must be some other topic we can all talk about.”
We did change the subject and the dinner went on as it did. We had dessert and then coffee, and then we retired to the sitting room, where Elizabeth played for her mother to sing, and James turned the pages and then joined in, and his voice complimented his mother’s rather nicely.
Mr. Bennet, Elizabeth’s father, stood with me, looking on. I did not think I had ever seen him stay in a sitting room while his wife was there.
“She would not like me to say so, but she is rather like her mother,” said Mr. Bennet.
“Lizzy, I mean. She is more serious and better informed. She is not concerned with silliness, but she rather has a bit of a temper. I think you may have noticed that. Perhaps if she’d had siblings, she would have learned to tame it better. ”
“I do not mind that temper of hers,” I said fondly.
“Perhaps not,” said Mr. Bennet. “There is an appeal to a woman like that, I suppose.”
I turned to look at him. “I suppose you never reveal why you and your wife are at such odds.”
He laughed. “Oh, I don’t know if either of us remember now. It wasn’t the quarrel, it was the way we went after each other afterwards. We both went too far.”
“Too far?”
“I shan’t recount it all. It is indecorous to my wife to reveal some of the things she did, and I am too embarrassed to reveal some of the things that I did.
We thought only to hurt each other, and we were quite successful.
” He sighed. “That is the thing with volatile passion, you see. It can turn on itself. And she and I, we are so stubborn. Every now and again, one of us will humble ourselves and go to present ourselves to the other, quite contrite, quite apologetic, quite eager to bury the past.” He laughed.
“But the other always turns aside and will not accept it. She and I are always at odds. Always.”
I was not sure how I felt about that.
“So, you quarreled about something trivial, and then you retaliated against each other,” I said. “And this is why you are still divided.” It seemed strange to me.
“Quite.”
“Well, that seems as if it is not so insurmountable,” I said.
He laughed softly. “Oh, no, well, as I say, it is indecorous, but what do I care about that woman and her reputation. You are my son-in-law now, I suppose you will keep it to yourself. She lost a babe after Elizabeth. A babe that was not mine. A babe she had planted in her womb entirely to make me angry.”
I drew back.
“Yes,” he said. “When I say it went too far, I quite meant it. Of course, I cannot say I behaved better, for I was just as awful. I did a number of quite horrid things as well.”
“Elizabeth is not like her mother,” I said.
He laughed at me. “You married her after she came home having been gone overnight with another man, Mr. Darcy. You knew what you were getting.” He shrugged at me. “Which is not to say that I disapprove of Lizzy, you know. She is the bright star of my sky.”
“No, mine as well,” I said softly.
“Well, I hope it all goes swimmingly for you both,” he said.
And this was when I decided it was likely a good time for Elizabeth and I to get far, far away from her entire family.
Luckily, Elizabeth did not object to the scheme when I explained it to her.
She said that she had decided that perhaps a married lady could be settled too near to her family and that we should quite go to Derbyshire for several months instead.
I told her that I thought she should take the trip with Bingley and Bennet on her own, and that I should wait until I had a chance to mend things with her brother, and she said that perhaps that would be for the best.
Right before we left, I had a letter from my sister bemoaning how miserable and hot she was in the city, so I proposed we take her along, and Elizabeth had no objections.
We went to London then, to collect Georgiana, and the three of us traveled north to Pemberley.
I think Elizabeth liked it. I asked her if she approved of it, and she laughed as if it was a silly question, as if there wasn’t a way for a person not to approve of Pemberley.
She settled in easily and quickly, though. She and Mrs. Reynolds, my housekeeper, seemed to be happy enough with each other, and Elizabeth and Georgiana got on famously, reading the same novels and chattering over them at tea.
We were less at odds here.
There was nothing to be at odds over.
My life had shifted. I had gone from being a bachelor who was being asked to visit the country with Bingley and to go to country dances to being a married man well settled with the most beautiful of wives.
I was content and I was happy and I felt as if everything in my life was exactly as it should be.
It was an idyllic summer.
August approached, however, and so did all of the preparations for the journey Elizabeth would be making.
Their first choice had been a trip to the continent, but with the fighting there, this was deemed to be not the time for such journeys, so they had settled on a tour of the Lakes instead, all the way to the north of the country.
Since Derbyshire was on the way, the others would come to stay with us before they all set off.