Chapter VII #3
With a sigh, Fitzwilliam shook his head.
“Darcy, let me tell you something. When I determined that Miss Bennet was worth all these things and more, I did not hesitate, though my power of choice is far less extensive than your own. I do not say it to display my liberality, but to emphasize the choice before you—happiness in marriage is not a matter of chance. To obtain that happiness, you must choose it, and then guard it all your days. Marrying a woman possessing all society deems necessary will bring those benefits, but will it bring you happiness? If you are so indifferent about the identity of the woman you marry, you may as well marry Miss Bingley.”
“You forget, Cousin,” said Darcy, allowing a hint of amusement, though he still felt off balance. “Miss Bingley does possess an acceptable dowry, but she cannot bring any of those other virtues.”
“Exactly. I do not think you would be any happier with a woman of the ton than you would be with Miss Bingley.”
Darcy pondered the subject for several moments and then sighed. “Lady Catherine will be outraged if I pursue Miss Elizabeth. Should I marry a woman of society, she would not like it, but at least she could not object.”
“You know very well that she would object anyway.”
Fitzwilliam’s conviction was clear in his firm reply, and Darcy could not suppose he was incorrect.
“What of your father?”
“What of him? I was not aware you were beholden to him.”
“No, I am not, but I cannot think he will be any happier about my choice, if it is Miss Elizabeth.”
“I think you may underestimate him, Darcy. As Father knows of your disinterest in Anne, he hopes you will marry the daughter of an ally, but he understands he cannot direct you. His confidence in your character will tell him that you are not throwing yourself away on an unsuitable woman—he and my mother will be cautious, but Miss Elizabeth will win them over.”
“This is all so new,” replied Darcy, uncertain what he should do. “I should not decide without weighing it carefully.”
“As you always do,” agreed Fitzwilliam. “Take all the time you like, for I do not suppose Miss Elizabeth is going anywhere for the moment.”
A sudden thought occurred to Fitzwilliam, and he grinned. “Then again, as I recall, she is to travel in March.”
“Oh?” asked Darcy.
“As you are aware, Miss Lucas is to marry Mr. Collins in early January. Though I do not know the details, I have heard something of an invitation from the future Mrs. Collins to visit her in the spring at Hunsford. They are famous friends, if you recall.”
Darcy was uncertain whether to laugh at the notion of Miss Elizabeth confounding Aunt Catherine or worry about the possibility of disaster.
“I see you have apprehended my concern,” said Fitzwilliam.
“I have,” agreed Darcy. “If I am courting Miss Elizabeth, the matter must be kept from Lady Catherine’s ears. Should I have proposed and received her consent by that time, the visit becomes inadvisable at best.”
“To be certain.”
“Then I shall reflect on what you have said.”
“Good.”
Fitzwilliam fixed him with a steely glare.
“Darcy, I would not injure you by suggesting that you are anything other than an excellent, upright man, but let me make something clear. As Miss Elizabeth will become my sister should I induce Miss Bennet to accept me, her concerns will become mine. I know you will not toy with her as Wickham might, but I do not wish to allow any lukewarm interest on your part. Should you decide in Miss Elizabeth’s favor, then do her the courtesy of treating her as a woman worthy of being pleased.
If you do not, please bow out. No middle ground. ”
The tight nod was all that Darcy offered in response, and Fitzwilliam was content with it.
Soon after, Darcy excused himself to return to his room, where he engaged in considering all that his cousin had said.
Though Darcy had never thought about the situation in terms his cousin had asserted, he could not say that Fitzwilliam was incorrect.
It was a simple fact that he did not appreciate society.
He could think of half a dozen of his less savory connections that he preferred to forget altogether, to say nothing of his distaste for many young ladies.
Not all were so reprehensible as such an opinion would suggest, but most of the rest did not interest him.
The primary issue was whether Miss Elizabeth could make him happy, and though Darcy had thought of it even less, whether he could make her happy.
Very few women of any level of society other than the highest sets would refuse him if he offered for them, but did he wish for such a woman as a wife?
Miss Elizabeth had always seemed like an independent woman, yet he had always thought she would espouse expectations if he paid her too much attention.
If she would, then she did not differ greatly from the many debutantes who crowded society.
Darcy stayed in his room and pondered his wishes, but while he was yet unable to understand them, one fact became apparent.
The attraction he had felt for Miss Elizabeth in the autumn was real, and the benefits of having her as a wife were obvious—those benefits might outweigh what he would lose if he chose her, likely by a large margin.
A lifetime of expectations was not overcome in a single afternoon, but the more he thought on the matter, the more the idea appealed to him.