Chapter Twenty-One
Now that Darcy was in London, sleeping only a few too many miles from Elizabeth (instead of many too many miles), and provided with formal permission from her new guardian to marry Elizabeth, he at last informed his mother’s high relations of the intended union.
Had Darcy purely consulted his own inclinations, he would have further delayed informing his aunt, Lady Catherine, for a great deal longer.
However, it was a matter of family duty to not leave them in ignorance of such a significant matter.
Besides, the engagement was well known amongst his servants and news of it would certainly spread in short time.
As much as Darcy disliked the notion of hearing Lady Catherine rant about how he ought to marry Anne instead, and thus unite two of the greatest fortunes in England, it would be unkind to leave her to learn of the engagement from hearsay.
As both his uncle and aunt would be in town for the season, Darcy did not inform them by letter, and instead called them to Darcy House, writing in the letter that he intended to make a significant announcement.
Having some anxiety about how this interview would progress, Darcy sent Georgiana for the morning to stay with Elizabeth, while he remained at his house to receive his nearest relations.
Lady Catherine arrived with her daughter, fully decked out and on display, as though she thought that the announcement was that Darcy meant to offer for Anne now that his father was dead.
Darcy briefly declared that he meant to marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
This young gentleman had the grim satisfaction of having correctly predicted an unpleasant event.
Lady Catherine screeched. “You cannot! You must marry my daughter. She expects it!”
Anne frowned and sat down heavily, wrapping her hands together.
“If my cousin Anne expected me to make an offer for her, I am very sorry for that. I am aware of nothing in my actions that could ever have been construed as giving her expectations, but if she developed them nonetheless, it is most unfortunate that I cannot fulfill them.”
“Your mother promised!”
“I hardly know what my mother had promised you—I know that she told me that she would have liked it very much if we made a match, but she has been dead these many years. A discussion between two sisters does not tie my honor.”
“And what wiles has this girl used to draw you into her snares?” Lady Catherine asked.
“What has she done to make you forget everything that you owe your family, your friends, and yourself? Are the shades of Pemberley to be polluted by having a mistress who at present—I know her situation—lives in the house of a man in trade? A man who can see his warehouses from his own house?”
“Ah, no.” Darcy’s annoyance with his aunt led him to speak in a manner that was perhaps unwise. “You have been misinformed. You must go to the nearest street corner before you can see Mr. Gardiner’s warehouses.”
Matlock snorted.
“I told your father he should send those girls to school. Though I’d expected the danger to come from the one who was too pretty.
But I should have known. I could tell that the blind one was a clever, scheming, sly creature.
And I must assume that the first child shall arrive in short order, with barely time for the banns to be read, and—”
“I will permit no aspersions on my character, or upon that of the woman who is to be my wife,” Darcy replied stiffly. “If you do not apologize and acknowledge the wrongness of suggesting that, I shall have you thrown from the house.”
“Well then, how did the penniless schemer entrap you?”
“With her affection, her continued friendship, the observation of her good character, her kindness to those about her, and my awareness of her worthiness.”
Lady Catherine glared at him. “All pretty words to hide the sordid deed. Well, did she seduce you while you were full of grief for your Papa or when—”
“Remove yourself from my house. You have insulted the woman I love more than anyone else in the world.”
“But—”
“Cathy,” Lord Matlock said, “you ought to apologize if you have any hope of retaining connection with Darcy.”
“I shall not. It is what everyone must think.”
“Must I call the footman to have you dragged out?” Darcy stared levelly at his aunt. “Do not doubt that I shall do it. Now begone.”
“The blood of my sister! If only my sister could see how you behave, how would she despise you then! Don’t ring the bell.
I am going, I am going. But you shall be unhappy, and you shall think of your mother, and you shall mourn what you lost when you scorned my daughter for a blind nothing!
” Lady Catherine grabbed her daughter’s arm.
“We are going, Anne! I see that I am not wanted here. Your father was a damned fool, Darcy. A damned fool! But you are a worse one than him. I warned him!”
And so saying, his aunt left the drawing room, and slammed the door with all of her considerable strength behind her.
Darcy sighed.
At least Georgiana had not had to witness this scene. Or Elizabeth, though Darcy suspected that she would find some amusement in it when he described it.
“Well.” Lord Matlock took in a deep breath. “I half expected this.” He quirked his face. “Eh, I’ll bring Cathy around. She’ll apologize in time.”
“I will not have her in my house again, unless she makes a sincere apology. And if this notion that I was drawn into this marriage in such a way spreads about due to her, I may not accept her even in such a case.”
“Yes. Stiff-necked Darcy.” Matlock sighed. “Well. Cathy was right in this: Your father was a fool. But nothing to be done about that.”
“I cannot disagree, but he is dead now.”
Matlock laughed. “That makes it very impossible to do anything about his foolishness. I imagine you’ll be happy, and live together very pleasantly, and all, and there is no chance that you shall listen to me when I tell you that you have made a mistake.
We will support you and the girl. But give me a minute to arrange my thoughts.
It is my family duty to give you a speech about how you are wasting yourself, and how this is a terrible mistake. ”
“I might,” Darcy said, smiling despite himself, “simply pretend that you have made that speech, and you might pretend that I have politely but firmly declined to take your advice in this matter, but showed every other respect for your honored position as a peer of the realm, and my uncle.”
“And shall we also pretend to have shaken hands upon the matter?” Matlock queried. “No, no. I prefer to do the whole thing right—if you’ll saddle us with a disappointing match, it is only fair that you listen to our disappointment.”
“So long as it is couched in terms that are becoming of a man of your station, and that offer no insult to my honor, or to the honor of the woman I love.”
Matlock laughed. “I’d be shocked if you’ve anticipated anything but a chaste kiss with her, have you?—rather a pity, that.”
Darcy blushed, and he recalled that Matlock was known for keeping two mistresses openly and somehow gaining the approbation of his wife to do so.
“Well, that gives me the basis upon which I shall make my disappointed speech. You know, of course, that it is the duty of every member of a family to do that which will help the glory and fortune of their relations to grow, and that forgetting that duty to your relations by tying them to connections of a lower station is a shameful thing to do.”
“No, I know nothing of that sort. Marriage should be chiefly a matter of affection and companionship. I have given this much thought.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that. You are the sort who demands consistency in all your acts and thoughts.”
“That is a virtue, is it not?” Darcy asked.
“No. The world is inconsistent, so we ought to be likewise.”
As Darcy had no quick reply to that, he did not make one.
Lord Matlock then said, “I am sure that Miss Elizabeth has acted in a most respectable and honorable manner—and you in an even more respectable and honorable manner—but I rather think you lack a certain, ah, experience, that might have given you the perspective to avoid adopting this notion that one particular woman and her happiness and presence in your life is of greater importance than every material, social, and family consideration.”
“What do you mean?” Darcy asked sharply.
“Have you ever been with a woman? I assume not.”
“And you think that if I had more such experience, I would not wish to marry Elizabeth.”
“It is at least possible,” Lord Matlock shrugged.
Darcy did not reply quickly, as he was trying to arrange his thoughts in a way that made the repulsion he felt at such a notion clear, but didn’t insult his uncle.
However, before Darcy had prepared any reply, Matlock spoke again with a disgusted sigh.
“No, if you had been convinced to take a mistress, you would have sponsored an opera singer and then fallen in love with her after a few trysts and insisted upon making her Mrs. Darcy to restore the honor of both parties. I have changed my mind. You have convinced me. It is best that you marry Miss Bennet.”
“I would not.”
“You would,” his uncle insisted laughing. “You are too much like your father. Lunatics, both of you.”
“I have come to find that I am different from what he was in many ways.”
“A different variant of the same character. A good sort of character—I hope that Miss Bennet can soften you and direct you in the way that my sister Anne directed your father. But about Miss Bennet, there is some fortune, is there not? And she is a gentlewoman, and she has an excellent education. She has what, three thousand? That is a great deal more than nothing.”
“Four thousand; Papa did not draw upon her income and instead set it aside to increase her fortune.”
“A great deal more than nothing,” Lord Matlock repeated. “Well, are we ready to shake hands and declare ourselves to still be friends?”
Darcy did shake his uncle’s hand, and he said, “I appreciate your concern for the family, and you said something that I shall actually think about, which I had not expected.”
“Do not worry too much upon it,” Lord Matlock laughed. “I was well past thirty before I could admit to myself that I shared many of the patterns of character that annoyed me most in my mother. This is a form of wisdom that ought not be hurried.”
That evening when Darcy called on Elizabeth and told her about the conversation, she laughed at the disgruntled way that he announced that Lord Matlock had said that he was just like his father.
“Oh, yes!” she said. “You are in many ways. But despite the failures in his last year, he was a great man.”
“I wish to be a wholly different sort of father than he was.”
“Do not worry about that. You have many of his features, but they are different in you. And I love you, all of you. And I understand you very well, and we will be very happy together, and at least your uncle is happy enough with the marriage. That is a great deal.”
“And we shall not need to remain on friendly terms with Lady Catherine,” Darcy added, “which will please Georgiana.”
Elizabeth laughed, and at hearing her name Georgiana demanded to know what they had been speaking of.
When Darcy’s sister was informed upon the matter, she agreed. “She always frightens me. I’ll be happy to not need to see her.”
“For my part,” Elizabeth said, “I have never been able to dislike her since I once overheard her saying that I was a perfectly useful person and not likely to be a burden. But I do agree that unless she makes a sincere apology that we cannot be friends.”