Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
THURSDAY, 5 DECEMBER 1811
E arly Thursday morning, several carriages made their way north to Hertfordshire to pay a brief visit to Bingley’s estate and to visit Elizabeth’s family. Anne and Hargrove accompanied the Darcys and Georgiana although they would return to Rosings at the same time as the Darcys departed for Pemberley. Richard would attempt to join them, but it was uncertain if he would return from escorting his mother before their planned departure on Monday.
That morning, Elizabeth’s stomach had been upset. Her maid brought her ginger tea to ease the unsettled feeling, but it had not improved as they travelled towards Meryton. As she contemplated what she might encounter when she arrived, she began to idly twist her handkerchief in her hands.
After several minutes of this, Darcy reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers in a steadying grip and squeezing lightly, offering encouragement. “You need not worry, Elizabeth,” he murmured gently, his gaze full of warmth and understanding. “Your family will be as happy to see you as they have always been.”
Elizabeth looked down, her brows furrowing as she attempted a small, rueful smile. “They might be glad to see me, but I am not certain I shall feel the same. I worry about how my father and I will face each other after everything.”
Darcy nodded, his expression thoughtful. He had listened patiently as she poured out her concerns, but he knew that this matter—this quiet heartbreak over her father’s betrayal—was something she carried heavily. “Your disappointment in him is natural, Elizabeth. To feel that he placed his own comfort, even his own amusements, above your future—that is a heavy burden for any daughter.”
She sighed, the words bringing forth a swirl of emotions she had tried to contain. “My disappointment, yes. But also… I had always believed he understood me in ways my mother did not. That he valued me for more than my worth as a daughter with a dowry. To discover otherwise, to realise that he could so easily cast me aside for six thousand pounds…” She trailed off, unable to complete the thought, the ache of it cutting too deeply.
Darcy squeezed her hand once more, his eyes fixed on her with a solemnity that told her he understood the depth of her sorrow. “He failed you, Elizabeth, not because he is a poor specimen of a man, but because he was willing to treat you as a mere transaction.” He paused, his voice softening. “Yet in the end, it was not he who determined your future. That was your decision alone.”
Elizabeth’s gaze softened as she took in Darcy’s reassuring presence, yet another reminder of the steadfastness she had come to rely upon. “Yes, you are right,” she said, her voice steadying. “Still, I cannot help but wonder if he truly regrets his actions. Does he feel remorse for what he nearly sacrificed, or is he simply embarrassed by the way things turned out?”
Darcy’s expression darkened slightly as he considered her words. “From what you have told me of his character, it seems he is more likely to feel discomfort at the failure of his scheme than genuine remorse. If he were truly penitent, he would have offered you an apology himself.” His thumb brushed over her hand, grounding her as her thoughts grew stormier. “But, Elizabeth, you need not seek his validation. You have already proven your own worth—and no decision of his can change that.”
Her emotions still overwhelming her, Elizabeth sighed. “I know I must prepare myself for disappointment, that I will never hear the words of apology I long for. Even if he offers an apology, can I forgive him for the pain he has caused?” She hesitated, her voice turning soft and uncertain. “Still… I cannot pretend it will not hurt. All I can hope is that he will see me and realise that I am no longer the dutiful daughter he expected to control.”
Darcy nodded, his eyes steady on hers. “You are stronger than he could ever realise, Elizabeth. Regardless of his shortcomings, you have a family here—a new family—who values you for exactly who you are.”
Elizabeth’s heart lightened, if only slightly, at his words. She squeezed his hand in return, grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you, my love. I shall try to remember that, whatever his reaction, I need not depend upon his approval.”
At Darcy’s gentle smile, the shadow of her worries seemed to lift a little. “Remember, love, you do not face him alone. Whatever comes, I shall stand by your side.”
She squeezed his hand, silently thanking him for his support. Lowering her head slightly, she confessed, “There is another worry on my mind. You did not have much opportunity to meet my mother or younger sisters during your short stay in Meryton. I know you spoke with Jane, and she truly is everything lovely and proper, but the same cannot be said of the others. At times, Mary is overly pedantic, but at least she conducts herself with decorum in public. My two youngest sisters, however, are much too young to be out in society, even in a small town like ours, yet they are more inclined to flirt and act silly than to behave with any sense of propriety.”
She paused, glancing down again with a hint of embarrassment. “We were never required to learn beyond the most basic accomplishments, and since Mama was not raised as a gentlewoman, she placed few expectations on us to develop our skills or education. Those of us who wished to learn more were allowed to, but the rest… were left to their own devices.”
“Elizabeth,” Darcy said quietly, lifting her chin with his fingers so she looked him in the eyes. “I will love your family as you do because they are now my family as well. I appreciate the support your mother has given our match, especially given the manner in which we were wed. I would not have been surprised if she had never wanted to see us again for bringing with us the scandal of our elopement.”
“How can you say that?” she asked. “My mother often embarrasses me with her behaviour; I cannot stand it if you are mortified because of the relations I have brought to your notice.”
Darcy shook his head firmly. “Elizabeth, your mother may have her flaws, but she has never deliberately sought to harm my family, unlike my own. Lady Catherine attempted to coerce Georgiana into marriage with a scoundrel to manipulate me into marrying her daughter and maintain control of Rosings. Worse, she would have had you kidnapped—twice. As for my uncle, his intentions are undoubtedly corrupt. We still do not know the full extent of his schemes, but it is clear he would take every penny I had if given the chance. I doubt Andrew ruined both estates without his help.”
He brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. “Truly, Elizabeth, I cannot imagine your family doing anything worse than what my own family has done, so you should not worry about what I will think. If nothing else, Pemberley is far from Longbourn, and we will not have to see them any more often than you wish. You are the mistress of my estate and have the authority to invite whomever you wish into our home.”
“So you would not object if I never invite any members of your family, aside from Richard and Anne, and only invite my own for short infrequent visits?” she asked, her voice taking on a teasing lilt, letting Darcy know he had succeeded in relieving her concerns for the moment.
After a brief stop to rest the horses and to take some light refreshments, the party arrived at Netherfield just after noon and was greeted by their host.
Bingley had arrived at his estate the previous day after a delayed journey. He had written to Darcy about the delay, and while Darcy might have considered waiting a few extra days, Bingley encouraged him to arrive as expected. He had been in contact with Netherfield’s housekeeper, and all preparations for the guests were complete.
“Darcy, it is so good to see you again,” he cried when his guests descended from the carriages. “Please, it is too cold to stand out here. Come in and make your introductions once we are all inside.”
The assembled guests did as was suggested, and before too long, they were seated in a cosy drawing room in front of a pleasant fire. Tea was served, but Bingley and Darcy opted for something stronger.
The two gentlemen settled into a comfortable corner of the room, glasses of Bingley’s finest port in hand, as they discussed a matter that concerned them both: Caroline Bingley.
Bingley had hoped to arrive back at Netherfield days earlier but had been delayed after escorting Caroline to Bath. There, he had leased a well-appointed house for her and arranged for a companion to lend her the respectability her reputation now required. He had even taken the unusual step of ensuring the companion was of a steadfast character, capable of managing Caroline’s whims and excesses with a firm hand.
“She will be twenty-five in the spring,” Bingley said, his voice laced with resignation, “and as she is still unmarried and likely to remain so. It is time to transfer her dowry to her direct management. I have made it clear that she is to live within her means—no matter how restrictive she may find it. She shall receive no extra support from me beyond what her income allows. I spent too many years giving in to her demands and will do so no longer. Her actions have made her a laughingstock in London society, and although I believe she would be better off farther from society, she insisted on going to Bath.
Darcy nodded thoughtfully, understanding the delicate balance Bingley was trying to achieve. “You have been very generous, Bingley,” he replied. “But she needs those boundaries if she is to learn any sort of responsibility.”
“Yes,” Bingley sighed. “Her house is leased for the next year, and the companion’s salary is arranged. A local solicitor will see that she receives her allowance on the first of every month. I briefly considered giving it quarterly at first, thinking it would encourage her to manage her funds. But then I remembered how easily she overspends, and I feared that receiving her funds quarterly might lead her to squander them all at once.”
Darcy took a sip, raising a brow. “Wise, then, to opt for monthly payments. Let her face the true limits of a steady income.”
Bingley chuckled ruefully. “Indeed. I instructed the solicitor to ensure that all household expenses are paid directly first—rent, servants, any necessities. Only after those costs are covered will Caroline receive the remaining funds for her discretionary spending.”
He paused, his gaze turning reflective. “I hope that this arrangement will make her understand the realities of living on a limited income. I have tried to guide her, to help her see that the life she aspires to is beyond her means without a husband. Still… you know how determined she can be.”
Darcy’s face softened slightly. “Indeed, but she is fortunate to have a brother willing to put such measures in place for her. Should she learn to live within her means, she might yet find a place in society where her reputation need not suffer further. Perhaps, if she lowers her expectations, she will be able to make a suitable match.”
Bingley nodded, though his expression remained uncertain. “One can only hope,” he said quietly, raising his glass for a reflective sip. “Enough talk of my sister. Tell me, how is married life treating you?” he said with a grin. Darcy merely smiled in response, but said little other than to indicate it was treating him well indeed.