Chapter 5
The motion of the carriage increased Darcy’s headache, and he rested his head against the squabs.
All the anxious anticipation of the interview with Miss Bennet, the strain and concentration during the encounter itself, had given way to an enduring pain pulsing in his temples and behind his eyes.
He was returning home with more success in his endeavour than he had hoped.
Two days ago, he had been desperate and helpless.
He had spent the last fortnight struggling to find a solution.
He had investigated every opportunity to loan the sum, making enquiries, calling on acquaintances to determine whether he could ask for such an amount; he had considered marrying his cousin Anne or even his friend Charles Bingley’s sister, the very annoying Caroline Bingley.
The last thought had crossed his mind for no more than a moment before he dismissed it quickly.
As much as Darcy valued his friendship with Bingley, and the possibility of deepening it was not something he was averse to, he could not allow the man’s sister — that arrogant, insolent, presumptuous schemer — to reach her avowed goal of becoming mistress of Pemberley, nor to call herself Mrs Darcy.
And her fortune was not large enough for his needs in any case.
As for his cousin Anne, she was no more attractive a choice than Miss Bingley, though for different reasons.
Darcy had struggled for years to convince Lady Catherine to accept he did care for Anne but would not marry her.
Changing his mind all of a sudden would mean surrendering to Lady Catherine’s will, which was unbearable, and any attempt to use Anne’s fortune would probably require detailed explanations to her mother; he shuddered to imagine what would remain of his hopes of a discreet solution to his conflict with Wickham.
So no, marrying Anne was certainly not a choice that was open to him, and there was no other possibility, as Darcy had concluded two days ago and confessed to Mr Gardiner — only to be proved wrong due to Mr Gardiner’s assistance.
Darcy knew he should be pleased and relieved, but the weight pressing on his shoulders had not abated.
He was engaged — what a foreign notion! — to a stranger, a woman different from all his acquaintances, a woman who had agreed to marry him and had expressed her acceptance with dignity and confidence, challenged him, interrogated him, and insisted on her own protection by means of a marriage contract.
A woman with uncommonly expressive and intelligent eyes that could flash with sharpness or shine with warmth.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet had teased him and even offended him at times, doubted his word of honour and requested he put his promises in writing.
She had agreed to give him the money with unexpected ease but had been more strict, more severe, in regard to her expectations of him.
In truth, her requests were perfectly reasonable and matched his own intentions, but the manner of her demands had stirred him in a peculiar way.
After examination, he had to admit that, if the conversation had been a duel, she would have won it decisively.
He had obtained the means to solve his problems, but she had gained the victory, and he was more intrigued than upset about that.
Darcy realised that, once the contract was signed and the engagement announced, he would need to provide many explanations and overcome many objections and obstacles.
Not that he would care much about that. His main — his only — goal was to secure Georgiana’s safety and, he hoped, to convince her to return home, even if that meant Wickham would keep her fortune.
He hoped Wickham did not treat Georgiana ill; he had no reason to, but the thought of his sister under that scoundrel’s power was horrifying and made his stomach turn, adding a wave of nausea to his headache.
She was so young, and the idea that she might be with child soon, putting her life in danger, maybe even dying during a difficult birth, was insupportable.
He had to do everything in his power to avoid that tragedy.
Miss Bennet had asked him about Georgiana but had the delicacy to not insist. However, once they were married, she would surely enquire further about his sister and the rest of his family.
At some point, he would have to tell his wife the whole unsavoury story: how his excellent father, once the best master and the best landlord, had lost the desire to live after his wife died; how he had surrendered to Wickham’s persuasion, wasting a fortune on investments whose existence Darcy could not prove; how his young sister had eloped from Ramsgate, victim of a plot and abuse of confidence by the same Wickham with the complicity of Mrs Younge, her companion; how they had dashed to Gretna Green and married, binding Georgiana to a despicable human being who would destroy her life.
And worst of all, Darcy would have to admit to his wife that in all that tragedy, the greatest share of the blame was his own.
He had not been attentive enough, not determined enough to keep Wickham away from the family, to comfort and protect his father and sister during their mourning.
Mr and Mrs Gardiner might have praised him to Miss Bennet in order to persuade her to marry him, but he did not deserve that praise.
The guilt of deceiving his future wife by not confessing the entire truth before the wedding added more to the heavy burden of this disguise he abhorred with all his being.
And yet, there was nothing to do but to proceed as agreed.
The very next day he would return to sign the marriage contract Miss Bennet had asked for and apply for a licence.
They must marry in London and as soon as possible.
He would also have to see to the settlement and amending his will.
Making plans calmed his thoughts and alleviated his headache a little.
As the carriage approached his house, he remembered he had invited his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and his brother the viscount, as well as his friend Charles Bingley, to dinner.
He was in no disposition for entertainment, but cancelling the invitation would only raise more questions.
All three of them were aware of Georgiana’s marriage but not the predicament over her fortune.
Darcy was sure that the colonel would take the opportunity to insist, yet again, that they hire someone to kill Wickham, as he had first suggested five years ago.
An idea that was nowhere near as appalling to Darcy as it used to be.
He could not reveal the news of his engagement yet, not even to his closest friends.
He had to wait until the contract was signed and Mr Bennet’s consent was received, which he hoped would happen the next day.
It was the first time in his life he had concealed something of this magnitude from the colonel, and he would surely owe him explanations and apologies later.
While reflecting upon his problems, Darcy realised he had much to learn about Miss Bennet too.
The mere fact she had been induced to accept a marriage proposal from a stranger, even though her situation in life was financially secure, that she was staying with the Gardiners in London, separated from her father and sisters, and that there was conflict with her stepmother, briefly mentioned by Mr Gardiner — all of it was cause for concern.
Preoccupied by his own problems, Darcy had forgotten to even ask about Miss Bennet’s late mother and her maternal family.
Did she have other relatives? Probably not since she had only involved the Gardiners in the decision regarding her marriage.
There were so many things he wished to discover about her and so many things he had to tell her.
Even more to conceal, certainly. He would have to take everything one step and one problem at a time.
Small steps and many problems. Perhaps it was for the best that he would have company that evening; it would help him keep his mind otherwise occupied at least for several hours.
Then, in the morning, he would return to Gracechurch Street to sign the marriage contract.
***
Elizabeth held the papers, looking through them. The lack of sleep and the headache that felt like it was cutting her temples made the reading, and concentrating her mind upon what she read, more difficult.
“Everything you discussed with Mr Darcy yesterday is there,” Mr Gardiner explained. “Let me know if there is anything you wish to add.”
She took another moment, re-reading the terms.
“You, Mr Darcy, and I shall sign the contract. I shall keep it in my study if both of you agree. And here is the marriage settlement. It contains the usual articles for marriages, appropriate for someone of Mr Darcy’s rank in society.
You and Mr Darcy should read and agree upon this one too.
He might want to add to the articles as he sees fit.
The final settlement document will be sent to Mr Linfield as he is the solicitor in charge of your fortune, but a copy will be sent to Mr Darcy’s solicitor as well. ”
“Very well, Uncle. Do you think we shall have a reply from Papa by tonight?”
“I hope so. That is why I sent my man with it, so he may wait for an answer and bring it back as soon as possible.”
“I know you have authority over me at present, Uncle, so I can accept even without Papa’s consent, but I would like to know I have it and his blessing nevertheless.”
“Yes, that is how things should be. I specifically requested he not inform his wife yet. It is enough if she finds out once the announcements appear in the newspapers.”
“I miss Papa…and Jane…and Lydia and Kitty, of course…but mostly Jane.”
“I understand that. After your wedding, we shall invite Jane to stay with us for a while, so you can meet often.”
“I am not sure Mrs Bennet will approve. And Jane is not one to go against her wishes.”
“Jane does not possess the strength you have, Elizabeth. She is sweet natured, gentle, loving, and sees the good in everyone, but I doubt she would ever defy her mother. Unless perhaps she marries a man who gives her a little more confidence, although she dislikes arguments and confrontations too much.”
“I shall invite Jane to visit me as soon as I am married. Mr Darcy said he has no objections, and Mrs Bennet might allow her to come, hoping it will throw her into the path of rich men. Perhaps she will be pleased that I married a man of fortune and connections and will forget about Mr Collins.”
“I do hope so, my dear, but it might not happen. She was partial to Mr Collins because he would inherit Longbourn. He probably promised that he would allow her and your sisters to remain in the house in exchange for your hand.”
“You may be right, but I am more amused than concerned. My stepmother’s judgment is so defective and her understanding so low that she rarely sees the obvious solution.
Instead of forcing me to marry Mr Collins, she could have simply asked me to secure a home for all of us, should Papa die before her. ”
They continued to discuss the contract until a knock on the door interrupted them. The servant announced Mr Darcy, and although she expected him, Elizabeth’s chest tightened. Mr Gardiner offered him refreshments, but he politely refused.
“Then please take a seat, sir. You have arrived just in time to read the contract and the settlement. You may add to the settlement articles, and once you approve them, the matter is sealed and we can proceed to sending them to the other solicitors.”
“Thank you, Mr Gardiner. Miss Bennet, do you approve of the contract? Have you studied it?”
“Yes. We agreed upon it yesterday, did we not?”
“Then, are you determined to proceed? With no regrets?”
“Are you, Mr Darcy?”
“I am, of course, but this is mainly for my benefit. I want to be sure you are not being forced — by something or someone — into a situation you will come to regret.”
“Considering the circumstances, it is likely we shall both regret it in some moments. The best we can hope for is to call our situation tolerable as often as we call it deplorable.”
A tentative smile twisted his lips. “You are right, Miss Bennet. Balance is what we should aim for, at least at the beginning of our marriage.”
He looked through the papers briefly, then signed them and handed them to Mr Gardiner.
“So quickly? I would expect a man accustomed to risky business to scrutinise a contract more carefully before he signed it,” Elizabeth said.
“You have agreed to give me your hand in marriage and your money, Miss Bennet. If you are willing the take the chance, then I am too. There might be risks, but I have no concerns about the content of this particular contract and settlement.”
He gazed at her earnestly, still smiling, and something fluttered in Elizabeth’s stomach.
“Very well, Mr Darcy. Then it is settled. You may apply for the licence and marry as soon as you are able,” Mr Gardiner said.
“Did you obtain Mr Bennet’s consent?”
“Not yet, but we expect it by tonight. I shall inform you immediately.”
“Thank you. I shall send a note about my progress with the licence.”
“Good. Now, shall we go to the drawing room? Mrs Gardiner and the children would like to see you, sir.”
“I would like that, if my presence is agreeable to Miss Bennet,” he answered.
“Since we shall be married soon, I should learn to always find your presence agreeable, Mr Darcy — or at least tolerable,” she answered. She enjoyed teasing and hoped he would not find her playfulness offensive.
“I am content with my presence being tolerable for now,” Mr Darcy replied as they all moved to the drawing room. He was still smiling, and Elizabeth’s stomach still fluttered, though it was not altogether an unpleasant sensation.
They were received with happy cries, and for more than an hour, Mr Darcy was the centre of the children’s attention.
Elizabeth watched him talking to them patiently, smiling at them, and even laughing at their antics.
The familiarity of the children seemed to calm him; his voice was gentle and friendly, his smile warmer, his countenance softer.
And once more, Elizabeth had to admit her aunt was right: Mr Darcy was indeed a handsome man.