Chapter 20
Longbourn received them with Mrs Bennet’s voice already raised from the parlour.
“We dine at five, young lady. Where have you been?”
She came into the hall like a tempest, eager to discover the cause of Elizabeth’s sudden departure, but stopped short at the sight of her husband and Mr Darcy. The surprise left her momentarily speechless.
Darcy bowed to her with marked respect, while Elizabeth spoke quickly, anxious to prevent confusion.
“We met Mr Darcy, Mama,” Elizabeth murmured.
“And he accompanied us for a conversation but he will not stay for dinner,” continued Mr Bennet as they decided in the carriage.
As her mother still seemed unable to reply, Elizabeth turned to her father and made a slight gesture towards the library. Dinner could wait, for once.
The strangeness of the situation overwhelmed Mrs Bennet.
Her daughter, alone with a man so newly married, was a circumstance she could scarcely comprehend.
Mr Bennet, fortunately, appeared far better prepared and seemed to know much more than she did.
Yet no reproach formed on her lips—only a sigh that showed she was overwhelmed.
Darcy looked about him and, for a moment, regretted the disdain he had once felt for the Bennet family.
The library was the comfortable retreat of a man who loved books, and it was easy to see how Elizabeth’s mind had been formed there, under her father’s influence.
Mr Bennet was far from the careless figure he had once imagined.
“Congratulations on your wedding,” Mrs Bennet said, still entirely unaware of the truth.
Elizabeth coloured and glanced at Darcy, but Mr Bennet intervened with ease. He laid a gentle hand upon his wife’s and said,
“My dear, I do not think Mr Darcy has come so far merely to receive our congratulations.”
The tone was kind, touched with a hint of irony—precisely the balance Darcy admired.
“Most true, sir,” Darcy said, steadying himself. “I cannot pretend this is an ordinary visit. I shall be brief and direct. In the spring, I proposed to Miss Bennet.”
Mrs Bennet’s astonishment was so great that she was obliged to sit.
“How is that possible?” she finally cried.
“Did you know?” she asked her husband.
“That is not important now, my dear. Let us hear Mr Darcy.”
Mr Bennet was equally astonished, though only by the proposal, for he had already imagined that one of the two gentlemen present at Rosings, and often mentioned in Elizabeth’s letters, had been the cause of her distress.
And, knowing his daughter as he did, he concluded that that gentleman must be Darcy.
“I refused him,” Elizabeth said. “In a manner far from polite.”
She met Darcy’s eyes, and the silent exchange between them spoke more than words. The memory of his kisses still lingered, and Mr Bennet, observing them, understood enough. It was sufficient for him to resolve that he would assist them, whatever the difficulty.
“That is not what you were taught to do, missy,” Mrs Bennet said, still unsettled.
“Do not blame her. We both made mistakes,” Darcy continued. “Mine was the greater. Instead of attempting to gain Miss Bennet’s affection, I acted in haste. I proposed—and I married Anne de Bourgh, my cousin, Lady Catherine’s daughter.”
“Some two weeks ago—we know, sir,” Mrs Bennet said. “That is why I congratulated you.”
“Just so. But my cousin had other intentions. She agreed to the marriage only to escape her mother’s control. She meant to begin a new life abroad, and the only way to avoid pursuit was…to have a husband.”
“Are you saying that—?”
“Yes, madam. She left me immediately after the ceremony, and I gave her my word that she should be free.”
A deep silence settled over the library. A short story that reduced to a few words months of turmoil, pain, hesitation, or, on the contrary, careful plans. But what meaning could the details still hold? All that mattered was the future—for which they had to be prepared.
“My dear Lord!” Mrs Bennet finally exclaimed, sinking back into her chair. “What a story!”
“It is indeed a story,” said Mr Bennet calmly, “and not one to be repeated unless Mr Darcy and Lizzy permit it. Even if we shall be obliged to keep it secret for a long time. No one must know that Mr Darcy was in our house this evening or anything that we discussed. Is that understood, Mrs Bennet?”
She nodded.
“I am aware that this must appear highly irregular,” Darcy went on, “as I am still married. But I have come to tell you that I love your daughter, and that, as soon as the divorce is obtained, we intend to marry.”
“That may take a considerable time, sir,” Mr Bennet replied, now fully attentive to the implications.
“One year—perhaps two.”
“Oh! That is not possible!” cried Mrs Bennet, pressing her hand to her heart.
Mr Bennet merely sighed—and in that sigh was more concern than in any speech.
“As I said, it is not an easy situation.”
He looked at them with quiet understanding. A long engagement might be acceptable in other circumstances—but here, it was something entirely different.
Elizabeth’s reputation was at stake. How could she appear in society in connection with a man awaiting a divorce?
“The time will pass,” Elizabeth said quickly. Only hours before, she had had no reason to hope.
“It will,” agreed Mr Bennet. “But your future depends upon how it passes. At the end of this year, you must still be received in society—not only for yourselves, but for your children’s sake.”
Elizabeth blushed, reminded that marriage meant far more than feeling and affection, and for a fleeting moment, she imagined their children.
“I am not the one seeking a divorce,” she said at last. “For men, everything is simpler.”
“Will you be allowed to marry again?” Mrs Bennet asked anxiously.
“Yes. In such cases, a man may remarry. But the process is long. It requires proceedings in the ecclesiastical courts, a civil action, and finally a private bill in Parliament.”
“My God,” Mrs Bennet murmured.
At that moment, Kitty knocked at the door and tried to look in.
“What are you doing there?” Mrs Bennet cried, jumping from the armchair to prevent her daughter from entering. “Go back to your sisters. We shall come presently for dinner.”
Kitty withdrew, and Mrs Bennet resumed her seat.
“And you are certain all this will succeed?” Mr Bennet asked.
“Yes, sir. I have every reason to believe that each stage will be resolved in my favour. There will be gossip in London, certainly—but also, I hope, some degree of sympathy. My intention to remarry will show that I mean to continue my life as before.”
He paused, then added,
“It is important that Elizabeth come to London this Season. With the support of our families, she may be properly introduced. The Bingleys are already connected to such circles, and through them—and through my own family and acquaintance—her presence will appear entirely natural.”
“So elegant and intelligent a young lady,” he continued, “will attract notice in her own right.”
“So much so that she may find a husband with fewer difficulties,” Elizabeth said, looking at him.
“Lizzy!” Mrs Bennet cried, while Mr Bennet only smiled faintly.
“Let them laugh,” he said. “For a time, it may be all they are allowed.”
Then, more seriously,
“If I understand correctly, Lizzy will remain in London with her sister for the coming months.”
“Yes, sir—if you consent.”
“I see no objection. She is always welcome with the Bingleys. You will attend the same engagements, and by the end of the Season, it will be clear that your intentions are fixed.”
“Yes, sir. And in the event that anything should happen to me—”
“What are you saying?” Elizabeth cried.
“Let him speak, Lizzy,” Mr Bennet said, with unexpected firmness.
“When I return to London, I shall revise my will. In the event of my death, you will receive, sir, an estate near Mitcham. It includes woodland, fields, and several mills, including one of the most valuable in the area. It would secure your family’s independence.”
“Nothing will happen to you,” Elizabeth said.
“Of course not. But this time, I intend to act with foresight. And when the Season ends, I shall invite you, the Gardiners, and the Bingleys to Pemberley. I hope that, by the following autumn, we shall celebrate a wedding.”
∞∞∞
“Does this mean Mr Darcy retains Lady Catherine’s fortune?” Mrs Bennet asked that evening.
Mr Bennet looked at her with his usual mixture of patience and irony.
“If the settlement was drawn so—yes.”
“But Lady Catherine is very rich. Mr Collins once said she had more than fifteen thousand a year, besides other properties.”
“Well, Mrs Bennet, if we get through this year successfully, we may find ourselves with a very wealthy daughter.”
“More than twenty thousand a year? Not even the King could be so rich! We must prepare for London at once, Mr Bennet!”
Mr Bennet closed his eyes. The house had once been filled with laughter at that hour; now Elizabeth sat alone in her room. And once she left for London, she might never return as she had been.
He did not like the situation. Still, he trusted Darcy, impressed by a plan that showed more foresight than most young men possessed.
“Is it wise for him to come here tomorrow morning?” Mrs Bennet asked.
Mr Bennet opened his eyes and laughed.
“My dear, we are not conspirators. Mr Darcy is merely a gentleman calling to take leave before he departs for London. I am certain he will face a far stricter tribunal within his own family. But indeed, the best course would be for you and your daughters to set out for Meryton early in the morning, and return at noon.”
“Could they forbid him to marry Lizzy?” Mrs Bennet asked, suddenly alarmed.
“If we conduct ourselves properly during this time, I am persuaded nothing will prevent it. And when I say ‘we,’ I mean chiefly you. Until she is married, if you wish that to happen, you must not speak a word of them or of their situation. Is that clear?”
Mrs Bennet nodded, though she already wondered how she might endure such silence.
“Lizzy needs this sacrifice,” Mr Bennet added.
“And I am ready to do anything,” she declared.