Chapter 12
Twelve
Bingley was determined. It had been more than a month since he met Jane Bennet, and he knew what he wanted.
He had taken the steps towards making his love’s life wonderful.
He had written to his attorney and had received the marriage settlement papers he had outlined.
Just as important, he had decisively turned his younger sister out of his home and taken all possible steps to lessen the chance that her actions would sink his own reputation.
His brother Hurst was supportive of his decisions and had promised to house Caroline for the foreseeable future.
At any rate, the Hursts and Caroline were all in London, and Bingley felt satisfied that he had handled the situation firmly but fairly.
He did not tell Darcy his intentions to propose that morning—he did not need his blessing, after all!—but he did take special care getting ready.
Darcy and Bingley called on the Bennets at their usual time, but Bingley acted very differently than usual. Instead of greeting everyone briefly and walking directly to Miss Bennet, he asked Mrs Bennet if he could meet alone with Miss Bennet in order to ask her an important question.
Naturally, Mrs Bennet was thrilled. She shooed everyone else out of the parlour, and Bingley approached Miss Bennet, smiled his winningest smile, and told her what was in his heart.
He also explained about the practicalities—the settlement, his plans to purchase an estate, and his arrangement with Caroline and the Hursts.
He finished up with additional declarations of love and devotion.
Miss Bennet immediately and happily accepted his proposal, and he strutted off to meet with her father while Darcy, Elizabeth, and all the others clustered around his Jane.
Elizabeth was so happy for Jane. She felt sure that Mr Bingley and Jane were very well suited, and she had noted that Mr Bingley had shown strength in the way he had dealt with his youngest sister’s misconduct.
Jane was conferring with her mother about the date for her wedding, and hearing that jolted Elizabeth.
Her own wedding was just six days away, and she still had some important questions for her intended groom.
She felt that she simply must get the answers before the ceremony.
And if they walked somewhere private, they would find themselves in each other’s arms again.
“I need to confer with you in semi-privacy, but not full privacy, sir,” she said softly. Fitzwilliam nodded and immediately followed her to one corner of the now-clamorous parlour.
He looked expectant. She pulled the paper out of her pocket, and he asked, “More questions, I take it?”
“Yes.” She checked for her sisters and saw that everyone was at the other end of the room and fully engaged with one another. She showed him the list, pointing to the first item, “Did you tell the Gardiners that you would be coming to Hertfordshire?”
Fitzwilliam nodded. “I told your uncle. We had dealt with one another on quite a few sensitive issues within his company; even though I was a silent partner with no vote in any decision, he still liked to discuss problems and respected my experience and opinions. I felt I owed him notice that I hoped to court and wed you.”
“I thought so,” Elizabeth said. “My aunt is wise, but I thought it was extraordinary how calm she was with my news.”
She pointed to the next question, “How did you know I was afraid of riding?”
“Your last question goes along with this one, so let us skip to the middle question,” he said.
He pointed to the question, “Did you deliberately come to Pegwell Bay to further our acquaintance?” He blushed as he said, “I did go to Pegwell hoping to know more of you. I have to admit, my valet saw my expression as you walked away from the milliner’s window display, and although I did not give him any orders to do this, he followed you and then talked to your servants, or perhaps the servants working in the rental house.
At any rate, I am embarrassed to say that my valet came back with your names and ages, and where you spent your mornings, all because I stood there thunderstruck, looking quite the fool, I am certain. ”
Elizabeth felt very melty inside, but she told herself firmly to ask questions now, melt later. “Then it is time for you to answer this one, and hopefully the one we skipped as well.” She pointed to the question, “Is there, or has there been, someone hired by your MoB to watch me and…report on me?”
“The answer is yes. But my man promised to have the watcher only report a few kinds of things. And indeed, in five years I only received two reports. I told my man of business very clearly that the watcher was not to act the spy—he was not to tell me where you went, who you spoke to, what you said, how you lived your life. He was to tell me if there was anything important that I could or should do for your comfort or especially your health and safety. If there was an outbreak of disease. If you were badly injured. Something like that. In addition to comfort, health, and safety, he was to alert me if you were pursued by a suitor. No matter your age, I could come to Hertfordshire, and I could at least let you know my feelings and wishes, so you would have the knowledge to make the best decision for yourself.”
“Hmm…so who was the not-a-spy who watched to see if I caught a disease or an eligible bachelor?”
“I do not know. I believe my man waited to see if any servant left Longbourn, and he sought to ensure that he provided a replacement.”
Elizabeth smiled, thinking of the Hills, who had been at Longbourn since before her birth, and Sarah, Mrs Hill’s niece, and— “Oh!” she said.
“Oh?”
“Cook came to us four and a half years ago. And she has always been so friendly towards me, so motherly. I suppose…I feel quite upset that she was placed here to keep track of me.”
Fitzwilliam said, “She reported very little to my man. As I said, I only received two reports within more than four years. The first one was about three years ago, and you had become quite ill. More than an ordinary cold—my man warned me that his source reported that your parents were worried. I was far away, at Pemberley, but I sent an express rider to London and had my personal physician transported to Meryton to meet with the apothecary, supposedly on recent outbreaks of cholera morbus. Your apothecary said that there were no such cases in the town, although he had been called in to see a young lady for a bowel complaint, but it turned out that she had merely eaten far too many apples.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I was seventeen. How many apples could I have eaten?” But she remembered the incident.
She had sat in one of their apple trees, reading a novel and eating fruit.
The story had become so riveting, she had nervously chomped through too many apples and had developed quite an upset stomach.
She had not told her parents what she had done, but she had alerted Mr Jones, the apothecary, to the source of the problem.
Fitzwilliam smiled. “I do not know—how many apples does it take to acquire a bowel complaint? Anyway, the only other report I got in five years was that you were afraid to ride horses. My man of business explained to me that he was fully aware that this was an overstep on his part, but he was confident that I would need my wife to be able to ride, so he ignored my stated rules and let me know about your fear.”
“How embarrassing.”
“Actually, even though he broke the rules, he was correct. I do not care if my wife—in the abstract, a faceless Mrs Darcy who never actually existed nor will ever exist—rides or does not ride. But the fact is that there are many enchanting places on the grounds of Pemberley that are too far to comfortably walk and that cannot be reached by carriage or even a phaeton. They are places that I know you, Elizabeth Bennet, soon to be Elizabeth Darcy, will love. That is why I wished for you to be able to ride with me, alongside me, so that we might enjoy those places together.”
“Well,” Elizabeth said, “that was quite a delightful way for you to turn my embarrassment into anticipation.”
“Believe me, Elizabeth, I am all anticipation these days.”
Elizabeth trembled, she felt so much emotion, but she breathed deeply, squared her shoulders, and thanked her intended for his honest answers.
“And you forgive me for meddling in your life for my own benefit?”
“Well, let us see, because of your meddling, some excellent women came to my community and taught my sisters, neighbours, and me some valuable skills…. Because of you, I finally learnt how to ride…. Because of you, my family enjoyed an excellent cook who was very kind to me…. Because of you, my uncle obtained an investor whose counsel he respected…. I suppose I forgive you for all of your officious interference.”
But she turned to him and whispered, “But did you have to do all of these things in secret?”
He gazed into her eyes, and she could see his care for her.
He said, “I hoped to court you when you were the appropriate age. I hoped to win your approbation and your affection. But to do the things that, in my opinion, kept you safe and ensured that I would be able to tell you my feelings if you were courted by someone else…to do them openly would, I felt, make it so that you might feel you had to accept my suit. Surely, doing those things openly would have pressured you. I do not wish for your gratitude; I wish for your love. I prefer to be honest and open in my dealings, but in this case I felt it would utterly spoil the intent by pressuring you and ruining the chance for a happy, equal relationship.”
Sitting there in her family’s crowded parlour, with the proper number of inches between their bodies, with a better chance of using her sense than if she was in Fitzwilliam’s arms, Elizabeth considered his words. She decided that he was right in every particular.