Chapter 26
Marry me…
Those were the words that Darcy longed to speak in response to Elizabeth’s stark question.
Not only was he willing to marry into the Bennet family, with or without this new theatrical connection, it was his greatest desire.
Yet, how could he speak these words now, in this room, in these circumstances, and before such an audience? He could not.
“I do not say things that I do not mean,” he told her instead, looking away because he could no longer bear the strain of such an intimate gaze without any outlet.
How prim and priggish his voice sounded in his own ears, Darcy regretted.
He regretted even more the disappointed expression he saw on Elizabeth’s face at his response, which she had likely misread as shame in being able to admit his remaining prejudices.
She stepped back from him, and his hands fell from her arms, where he realised belatedly they should never have been.
“Elizabeth,” he spoke her name with quiet urgency, unsure how to reach her when he could not share the truth of his heart.
“Mr Darcy, Miss Bennet,” interrupted Mr Michelson, now appearing at Darcy’s shoulder, his face more settled and determined, likely after further discussion with Lydia whilst Darcy and Elizabeth were distracted. “I would like to say something more, if you would be so good as to listen.”
“Very well,” responded Darcy, folding his arms and seeing Elizabeth also give a small nod.
“I assure you that the Hyperion is worth a pretty penny, and I hope this new show should bring in good money too, with my talented wife in the chorus,” he asserted, throwing a smile back at Lydia, who stood pouting on the other side of the room.
“I might not be in your class of gentlemen, Mr Darcy, but I do not consider myself a bad bargain either.”
Darcy listened and reflected, the opinion he had already voiced to Elizabeth only becoming firmer. For a girl like Lydia, with no fortune, title, or accomplishment, it was in some ways not a bad bargain at all.
“Would you be willing to agree to a suitable marriage settlement for Lydia and any future children of this marriage?” Darcy enquired, thinking that the final view of this man’s character must rest on his response to the question of legal responsibility.
“Of course I would,” stated Mr Michelson without hesitation. “I shall do it now, on the spot, if that is what you want. I would have done it before if Lydia had not insisted on getting us hitched before the show opened.”
Despite himself, Darcy smiled.
“In that case, I will negotiate with Mr Bennet on your behalf, and his lawyers will be in touch with you. In return for this settlement, I will recommend that Lydia’s father not dispute the marriage. Are we agreed?”
It was Elizabeth to whom Darcy looked now, as much as Mr Michelson. Darcy could see that she was still struggling with this new reality and felt for her. Having come so close to losing Georgiana to a worse fate than this, Darcy was convinced it was the right course. She would understand in time.
“I cannot pretend I am happy with what Lydia and Mr Michelson have done,” Elizabeth said at last, “but I agree that this resolution is the only way forward. I shall write to my parents directly, if Mr Michelson is also in agreement.”
“As long as no one disrupts my show or tries to take Lydia away, I will agree to anything you want,” confirmed the theatre proprietor, returning to his young wife’s side and putting an affectionate arm about her waist.
As Lydia smiled upon her husband and adjusted his cravat, the feather in her puce hat bobbed merrily.
Darcy looked at them curiously, finding reason to hope in the affectionate gesture.
For all their ostensible differences of class and age, there was something in both their appearance and temperaments, a sense of vitality and hardened cheerfulness, that made them seem a good pairing.
“Shall I have Mr Bennet and his lawyers write to you at the Hyperion, or your home address?” enquired Darcy.
“The theatre,” answered Michelson quickly, perhaps not wishing to give out his home address in case Darcy and Elizabeth changed their minds about illegalities, magistrates, and false statements to church officials.
“After the opening night would be best,” Lydia added. “Tell Father that. We shan’t have time for lawyers and such nonsense before then.”
“Well, then, we’d best get back to the Hyperion,” announced Mr Michelson. “There’s a rehearsal to get through, and then our friends are giving us a little wedding party. We would invite you, of course, but…”
“There is no need to explain,” Darcy responded swiftly, seeing the dangerous expressions crossing Elizabeth’s face at first Lydia’s impudent injunction and then Mr Michelson’s injudicious attempt at friendliness. “Good luck to you, Mr Michelson. You will need it.”
Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth accompanied the newlyweds to the front door, leaving Mrs Forster’s servants to show them out of the house. Once the front door closed, Elizabeth sank down onto a sofa and burst into bitter tears, her face in her hands.
“How am I to break this to my family? How can I possibly make them understand?”
Aching for her, Darcy reached out his arm to stroke Elizabeth’s shoulder but then realised what he was doing and managed to pull back before she saw. Instead, he sat down beside her on the sofa, but kept a respectful distance.
“Would you like me to write to your father first?” he suggested. “You might send your own letters after that.”
“What a terrible coward that would make me!” Elizabeth sobbed. “You have been so kind and so sensible, Mr Darcy, and I can never repay you for all that you have done for my family.”
“Never think of that,” he urged her. “Believe me, I want to help you, with all my heart. There is no cowardice in accepting help.”
Wiping her eyes with her handkerchief, Elizabeth sat up and turned to Darcy.
“Again, you are right, and I accept your help with thanks. Please, would you write to my father as you suggest, Mr Darcy? He might even take the news better from you. I shall not let my pride get in the way.”
The dew of tears only made her hazel eyes sparkle brighter, and briefly the rest of the world fell away from Darcy’s mind.
“Elizabeth,” he addressed her again, “I offer you not only my help now, but…”
At that moment, the handle of the door turned, and Mrs Forster and Georgiana came hurrying back into the room. Darcy sprang up as though scalded, while Elizabeth only turned her reddened face towards the arrivals, having no idea how close she had just been to a proposal of marriage.
“They are married, Mrs Forster,” Elizabeth Bennet told the colonel’s wife. “Lydia has married Mr Michelson, the owner of the Hyperion. She is now Mrs Michelson and will be staying here in Brighton.”
“My word!” exclaimed Mrs Forster, coming to sit beside Elizabeth. “Lydia married. Dear me. I scarcely know what to ask about the matter.”
“There is little to tell beyond that, and what you already know,” Elizabeth replied, her voice sounding very tired.
“Is Mr Michelson a good man?” asked Georgiana tentatively, pulling a chair close to the sofa. “Will he make her a good husband?”
Although pained, Elizabeth’s face managed a smile, considerate of Georgiana’s youth and sensitivity even in her own time of trial.
“Perhaps, although it is too soon to know. I believe Mr Michelson is not a bad man, but Lydia is too young, everything has happened very quickly, and my family will be very upset.”
“Marry in haste, repent at leisure,” sighed Mrs Forster, shaking her head. “Well, I shall ring for tea. You look as though you need it, Miss Bennet.”
“If you will all excuse me, I will write to Mr Bennet at once,” Darcy announced. Without waiting for a reply, he left the room.