Chapter 13
“We have done it, Mother,” Darcy said as his mother entered his study.
“Already?”
“Yes,” said he, “I sent Proctor to Meryton the day before yesterday and yesterday he heard from Colonel Foster that the bailiffs from the Marshalsea Debtor’s Prison had picked up the wretch.
He is now in their custody and it is unlikely he will ever come out.
Apparently his fellow officers had had more than enough from him and added their debts of honour to his charges.
His debts now come to just under three thousand pounds. ”
Lady Anne looked sad, “your father would have been heartbroken to see how far his godson has fallen. The depth to which he has sunken is sad even for me who never loved him as your father did.”
“Father simply refused to open his eyes to see Wickham’s faults. He was a willing blind man.”
“Nevertheless, I wonder if we could take him out of there in a few months and transport him to Australia instead.”
“Why? Why should we have mercy on him? He never had any on us.” Darcy was piqued.
“Because it is the right thing to do,” His mother spoke firmly.
Darcy raked his fingers through his hair, “very well, Mother, let us revisit this topic at the end of the season. Shall we say March or April? Then we will decide what we should do.” He stressed, “We shall make this decision, together.”
Once that weight had dropped from their shoulders both mother and son started to accept invitations for the pre-season.
The first dinner party was at Lady Anne’s brother’s house, Lord and Lady Matlock.
On the Tuesday they arrived at the elegant town house, four doors down from their address on Grosvenor Square, appearing punctually at seven o’clock to mingle with family, some close and others not so close.
Present were Lord and Lady Matlock as well as the heir to the earldom, one Bradley also known as Lord Allenby; their second son, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, and also the Matlock’s youngest child, Emily, a great favourite of the Darcy cousins.
Emily had been a surprise package, arriving ten years after Richard and so, spoiled by all, until Georgiana the youngest of the cousins arrived five years later.
Growing up together the cousins formed a close-knit alliance, which also included another cousin: Anne de Bourgh, who was only one year younger than Darcy himself.
They had all been inseparable. Then George Darcy died and Anne’s mother started pestering Darcy to marry the girl, ruining the friendship that had existed between them.
After that, sadly, Anne was somehow excluded from the group.
Also present at the dinner party was a cousin on the Darcy’s side; “Look who we found this afternoon at White’s.” Bradley said, thrusting Lord Holton, Duncan Maitland forward.
“Duncan?” Darcy said stepping towards his cousin, Lord Holton, the Earl of Dundee, the only son of his father’s youngest sister. “I did not know you were in England. When did you arrive in our capital? I thought you hated London.”
Duncan hugged his cousin affectionately and thumped him on the back viciously as loving cousins are wont to do,
“I have only been here for two days. And yes, I do hate London. But duty calls and I thought it was time I get over my Mary’s loss and find another bride. After all I need an heir.”
Bradley laughed, “And that you could not find in Scotland?”
Richard sighed exaggeratedly and added before Duncan could answer, “Please do not start with the marriage subject already. You know our mother has been dying to find us all wives and get the grandchildren procession started.”
Lady Matlock smirked, “You are all under orders to find a wife this season. You are all around thirty years old already; you are not getting any younger and time waits for no one.”
“Well,” Duncan said wistfully, “I was married, but the good Lord saw fit to take my bride away and with her my baby girl. So I have to start over.”
Lord Matlock touched the young lord’s shoulder, “Do not worry son, you are in good hands, Susie is here to save the day.” He laughed.
Lady Matlock agreed, “Indeed, I will get brides for all of you.”
“I do not need your help Mother, I can marry tomorrow,” Bradley said reaching out for Georgiana, “if Georgie will agree to be my bride.” He kissed her on the forehead affectionately.
Georgiana laughed, “The problem is cousin, I want a husband figure not a father figure.”
“Oh…” Bradley looked wounded and twisted his face as if he was about to start sobbing, “thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, as those whose beauties proudly make them cruel.’”
“If you keep quoting the Bard, sooner or later you will convince a poor woman to listen to your sad attempt at wooing her with somebody else’s poetry.” Georgiana said unrepentantly.
Bradley laughed harder, “but I thought I had already wooed you, after all you have already promised to marry me.”
“Yes, when I was five years old and you, two and twenty.”
He placed his hand over his heart in dramatic fashion making everybody laugh.
Lord Matlock slapped his son on the back, “I daresay, if managing an estate does not suit you, son, you will have a career in the theatre and put all those dandies out of a job.”
Bradley sighed melodramatically.
“But if Brad marries Georgie,” Darcy said, “I can marry Emily. We solve two problems with one fell swoop.” He leaned over and kissed his cousin’s forehead as Bradley had done with Georgiana.
“I thank you cousin, but no thanks.” Emily said, wiping her forehand exaggeratedly with a handkerchief as if it was wet and disgusting.
Once the laughter subsided Lady Anne asked her nephew, “Duncan, where are you staying? Surely you are not thinking we will allow you to stay at White’s.”
“No Aunt, It was my plan to stay at Dorant’s Hotel. After all if it is good enough for Lord Byron, it should be good enough for Lord Holton.”
“But we have already invited him, Anne,” Lord Matlock said, “Duncan will be staying with us for as long as he is in Town, where I am sure Susan will direct him into the path of the most enticing debutants of the season.”
Darcy groaned, “oh Aunt, poor man, what has he done to deserve this punishment?”
His aunt flattened her lips in exasperation, “Only you, Darcy, can equate the admiration of a pretty young lady to tiresomeness.”
Richard laughed, “Not the only one, but certainly the most fastidious. What we all call a pretty lady, Darcy calls tolerable. An accomplished one who speaks five languages he calls inadequate because she does not speak six. If she dances a reel and is polite, he says she smiles too much. If she asks him a question, he calls her impertinent and forward. If she agrees with his opinion with alacrity, he calls her insipid and without a thought of her own.” Richard looked at his cousin, “I dare you to disagree.”
Into Darcy’s mind unbidden came the image of an impertinent young woman with fine eyes.
“No, I daresay you are right, Richard. Guilty as charged.” Darcy kept his features blank.
The butler arrived and announced dinner so they moved to the dining room where the conversation and the banter continued.
***
A few days later Lady Anne was coming out of the music room where she had been practising with Georgiana, when she almost collided with Bingley’s chest.
“Oh Lady Anne, apologies, my lady, I was distracted.” He looked down despondently.
“Mr Bingley!” Lady Anne was surprised, “I thought you had already returned to Hertfordshire?”
“Yes, I mean no…” he looked down again.
Lady Anne frowned, “Mr Bingley, what is troubling you, son?”
“Well…” the man looked so altered; his trademark smile was absent and he seemed utterly broken.
“Please,” Lady Anne grabbed him gently by the arm, “come into the drawing room for a moment. Have you time for a little tête-à-tête?”
He allowed her to lead him by the hand, as if he had no will of his own.
Once they entered the room she went directly to the bell pull to order tea. “I think a cup of tea is in order unless of course you would prefer some brandy instead?”
“No,” he said dispiritedly, “tea will do just fine.”
She asked about his sisters’ health and waited until the servant had vacated the room before asking him what the problem was.
“Well, now that we have the room to ourselves please tell me, what is upsetting you?”
“How do you know I am upset, my lady?”
“Oh please, Mr Bingley you have been my son’s best friend for the best part of five years now, I do know you a little and I can easily tell when you are not yourself.”
“Well, I… I thought that… I” he stammered uncomfortably, “I do not know how to even start this… errr… I was so mistaken in my own judgment, it is embarrassing.”
“And what judgement is that?”
He sighed, “I thought my feelings were returned in equal force… I did not see… I mistook her serenity for… for love, I suppose.”
Lady Anne understood immediately, she shook her head in disbelief and had to bite her tongue; for she wanted to give the bumbling young man before her a real tongue lashing.
“Mr Bingley, could it be that you are referring to Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, ma’am, who else?” He said absently.
“Pray tell sir, who told you that Miss Bennet does not feel as ardently for you as you feel for her?”
“Caroline first hinted at it and Darcy confirmed it just now.”
“I see. Miss Bingley and William…” she shook her head again. “And how may I ask, have Miss Bingley and William become such experts on the feelings of the lady in question?”
Bingley’s eyes widened in surprise, “you do not agree with their assertions?”
“No, I most certainly do not. First of all, who spent the most time with Miss Bennet, you or William?”
Bingley stared at her unblinkingly and seemed to hold his breath as well.
“If anyone should know Jane Bennet’s heart, Mr Bingley, I would wager it would be you.”
He sat a little forward in his seat as if listening to a pivotal dramatic presentation.
“What exactly did William say?” She asked at last.
“He said he thought Miss Bennet was only following the advice of her mother in accepting my marked attentions. He does not believe she returns my affections.”
Lady Anne’s anger against her son suddenly grew exponentially,
“How dare he besmirch a young lady’s character like that?
What does he know of her or her family? How many times did he visit the family, how many hours did he spend conversing with Jane and learning of her heart, her wishes, her dreams, her fears?
” She stared him down like a misbehaving child, “And finally, Mr Bingley, what does William know of love? How many times has he been in love, how many ladies have been in love with him, his person, rather than his fortune?”
Bingley simply looked at the lady dumbfounded.
“What about your sister?” She pointed her finger at him accusingly, “Surely, you know how Miss Bingley hates the Bennet ladies and what they represent. Surely, you are not foolish enough to believe that your sister, of all people, would approve of a young lady with no fortune and worse, with connections to trade, to marry you simply because you love each other.”
Bingley paled.
The truth of what Lady Anne was saying made him squirm in embarrassment in his seat. How could he have entertained the idea of throwing Jane’s heart away solely on the report of people who knew nothing about her? How could he have been so foolish and so gullible?
He stood up and paced the room like a caged tiger.
“Mr Bingley, if you do not return to Hertfordshire immediately and marry the best young woman you could ever hope to meet, you are not merely the worst simpleton that has ever lived but also a scoundrel for breaking her heart. And if that is the case, you do not deserve her.”
Bingley stared at her, his mouth agape and tears brimming in his eyes.
Then, quite nonchalantly, Lady Anne delivered the last blow, “And if that is indeed the case, I will bring Jane to town myself and present her to the Earl of Dundee, who is looking for a good wife. He is my nephew and a most deserving young man. He will see her worth, if you do not.”
At last Bingley shook his head as if wakening from a nightmare, “That will not be necessary, your ladyship.” He then turned toward the door, “I have an appointment in Hertfordshire for which I am already late by a fortnight.” He then went back to her, grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips, “Thank you, my lady, you are a true friend. God bless you.”
He left the house in a hurry but with a bounce in his step which had been absent only about an hour earlier.
Lady Anne finally allowed herself to laugh... and laugh she did most heartedly.