Chapter 30
Thirty
A RATIONAL SCHEME
Georgiana arrived the next day, full of tales about their time apart.
She and her companion had helped plan, with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, Netherfield’s Christmastide celebrations.
Shortly before Christmas day, coins and coal would be distributed to the tenants.
There would be a large gathering afterwards at Netherfield, to which all the leading families of the neighbourhood would be invited.
Carols would be sung, games played, carpets were to be rolled up, and all would be in place for a general conviviality.
She most especially giggled about the sprigs of mistletoe which were to be hung, temptingly it was to be hoped, in the entry to the drawing room.
So accustomed was she to Elizabeth’s cheerful refusals to bring Neddy into company, it seemed not to occur to her that Christmas might be an exception.
Elizabeth did her best not to yearn to attend, or at the very least to summon an image of herself dancing with Mr Morris instead of Mr Darcy.
She moved through Neddy’s activities in a kind of daze, struggling, and often failing, to keep her preoccupation with the future from interfering with the present.
It was not until Georgiana asked Elizabeth the same question twice that she seemed to notice her friend’s distraction.
“Elizabeth, what is the matter?”
“What? Oh, I am sorry, dear. I have had something on my mind, and it goes round and round without finding any practical solution.”
Georgiana set Neddy to drawing with the pencils she brought him. “Perhaps you might talk to me about it?” she enquired tentatively.
Why not? Elizabeth thought. The girl was young, but thoughtful and kind. She could trust that Georgiana would not blather her secrets to others.
“Between ourselves,” Elizabeth began tentatively, “I have wondered…if-if Mr Morris would consider marriage. To me.”
“Mr Morris! He was at Netherfield Friday evening. But Elizabeth, he is old. And married!”
“Not that Mr Morris. Mr Andrew Morris.”
“The steward?” Georgiana sounded more astounded by Elizabeth’s interest in the land agent than she had to the married, elderly neighbour.
“It makes sense, if you think about it,” Elizabeth continued, trying to inject confidence into her tone. “He has two children, and the youngest is two years younger than Neddy. He is a widower, and his wife has been dead a year now. I could be…I could be of use to him.”
“Of course you would be,” Georgiana quickly reassured. “He would be very fortunate to earn your regard.”
“Mr Morris has more influence in the neighbourhood than Mr Philips does, especially since the Netherfield lease was accomplished.”
“Yes,” Georgiana agreed thoughtfully. “He meets often with my brother and Mr Bingley. They all seem on the best of terms with each other, and I know Fitzwilliam respects his advice in matters pertaining to the estate. I heard him say the other day that Bingley would be in good hands with Morris once we leave.”
The words caused a pang in Elizabeth’s breast, but she ignored it.
“Yes—if the dispute over guardianship came to a challenge between Mr Philips and Mr Morris, I feel that Mr Morris could have a chance to prevail. I would have a respectable husband, and Neddy, a respectable man to advise and assist him, ensuring his health and fortune.”
“That is true.”
She slumped in her chair. “I feel that I could be a good wife, and rumour has it that he is looking for one. I simply have no idea how one makes such a match! He will never pursue me—it is not done. I can hardly march up to him on the street and say that I am willing, but only if he will protect my brother.”
For a few minutes, the only sound was Neddy’s murmurs over his picture. Georgiana tentatively broke the silence. “What if…what if I were to ask Fitzwilliam to arrange it?”
Elizabeth turned nearly white with shock. “Oh! No! I would be mortified if you asked!”
Georgiana was immediately contrite. “I am sorry! I would never breach a confidence. I only meant to help.”
“I know, I know. It is…” she trailed off, failing to finish her sentence. It is that I am half in love with your brother, and would despise him witnessing my desperation. “My situation is embarrassing.”
But Georgiana frowned at that remark. “I fail to see why. You require an honourable husband, for the most honourable of reasons. There is nothing grasping or of self-interest in you. Mr Morris will know this, and if it is put to him correctly, your conditions would be met—he should be grateful and-and elated for the opportunity of making such a match. Your neighbours are not ignorant—most of them would realise what you are doing, and why.”
“If I were more marriageable, I would not have to beg for a respectable husband.”
“I do not think it is like that at all,” Georgiana protested. “In our circles, many fathers and brothers arrange these connexions. It is not thought unusual, but proper and right.”
This was true—and while certainly it was not a tradition in her own family, it did not mean it was a particularly scandalous action.
“Yet, it is not my father who is being asked to make an agreement.” She made herself say aloud the one aspect she hated most. “Your brother is no relation, and will surely be disgusted.”
Again, Georgiana protested. “When he first told me of you, he described you as a friend. I believe he has a perfectly friendly relationship with Mr Morris. Do not friends help each other? It need not be awkward. If Mr Morris is so stupid as to have no interest, well, that is that. I am certain he would never speak of it. He seems a decent man.”
Georgiana saw it as a simple solution. Yet, it would not be quite so easy as she assumed.
“I think he is a decent man, too. However, my uncle Philips is likely to challenge him for the guardianship of my brother. Mr Philips is Neddy’s uncle, he is well-known and respected, and he has the ear and support of Neddy’s mother.
Many of my neighbours are likely to take Mr Philips’ side.
While I think the best sorts of people would take Mr Morris’s, it could be an onerous, expensive undertaking, which might put him at odds with his neighbours. ”
Georgiana bit her lip. “I do not like to speak ill of your relations, but my understanding is that…is that many do not think particularly well of Mr Philips these days.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to frown. Her observations had led her to a different conclusion—she had been treated as a pariah by many during the last six or seven months.
“My brother does not like him,” Georgiana added bluntly. “I do not mean to boast, but Brother has made his opinion known and where Fitzwilliam Darcy goes, many will follow.”
Elizabeth felt a burst of adoration for Mr Darcy; he was doing what he could to help.
Should I not do what I can do, as well? Yes, she felt a good deal of humiliation at requesting a man to marry her—especially when Mr Darcy might be doing the asking.
But she would do anything to save Neddy, and wedding a respectable man who was known to be an able, experienced father was the least of it.
“You are right,” Elizabeth said at last. “I cannot imagine—do not want to imagine the conversation. Yet, if you feel it is a topic you could somehow broach with your brother, I give you leave to do so. Please, though, if he finds the notion ridiculous, if he finds me ridiculous, you must never tell me. We need never speak of this again.”
Georgiana smiled and promised, and they both returned their attention to Neddy. If Elizabeth grieved, she did it silently, and the girl never knew.