Chapter 24
Sitting Room
Pemberley
“Father, Mr. Collins, please sit down,” Elizabeth said as the door closed behind Lady Catherine and the footmen.
Mr. Collins, who had watched his patroness being dragged out of the door, turned toward the Darcys with a horrified expression. “Mr. Darcy, sir, surely you cannot … my esteemed patroness, your aunt, sir, how…”
“As my wife said, Mr. Collins, you should sit down,” Darcy said coldly and turned an equally glacial look on Mr. Bennet. “Please sit down, sir.”
Both men did so, the younger man pale and stricken, the older man grim.
“Would you care for some tea?” Elizabeth asked, taking a seat on a settee.
“Yes, thank you,” Bennet said.
Darcy walked over to the door, opened it, spoke to a servant, shut the door, and returned to take his seat by his wife’s side.
“Mr. Collins,” Darcy said, “let us start with you. A few minutes ago, you claimed that you were, in the past, engaged to my wife. This is not true, and before you leave my house, I need to be certain that you understand that.”
Collins’ look of dismay gave way to one of genuine fear, and he turned a hunted expression toward Mr. Bennet.
“Cousin Bennet,” he said in a raspy tone, “is it not true that you gave me your permission to marry your daughter Elizabeth?”
Bennet stared at his cousin with a look of disdain and said, “I did, of course, but Elizabeth is also correct that she never accepted your offer. It is too late, Collins. Elizabeth is now married to Mr. Darcy.”
The parson swallowed hard and shook his head. “But he cannot be … that is, Mr. Darcy is engaged to Anne de Bourgh…”
“A wedding ceremony takes precedence over an engagement,” Bennet snapped irritably, “especially one which was never more than fiction. Well, Lizzy, I confess that you have thoroughly astonished me. I never imagined that you would find yourself such a wealthy and respectable husband. Indeed, I still cannot fathom how it came to pass.”
“It is simple enough,” Darcy said, placing his right hand on his wife’s left one.
“Your daughter is not only beautiful and clever, but she is kind and brave and glorious. Her escape to London, through happenstance, afforded us the opportunity to spend additional time in company, and threats by yourself, my aunt and Wickham only accelerated our courtship.”
Bennet frowned and said, “Well, you have succeeded in oversetting all of my plans. I suppose all that can be done now is to try to hush up the scandal as thoroughly as possible.”
Elizabeth lifted her right eyebrow and said, “Truly, Father? After threatening me with bread and water in an effort to force me into an unwanted marriage, you are now eager to assist us in avoiding malicious gossip? Is that all you have to say for yourself?”
“I am wise enough to know when I am beaten,” Bennet said, and then sighed deeply. “I thought it would be best for you to marry Mr. Collins, you know. When I die, there will be little left for your mother and sisters.”
“Jane is married to Bingley,” Elizabeth pointed out. “He would never let his wife’s mother or sisters go hungry and ill-clothed.”
Bennet grimaced and said, “I suppose not, but I wanted a grandson to inherit Longbourn … but in any case, it matters not now. You are wed, and now all I can do is work to mitigate any rumors. Moreover, Mr. Darcy is, of course, very rich.”
The door opened at this juncture, and two maids entered with tea.
Elizabeth smiled and thanked them, poured tea for her guests, and handed out the cups.
Mr. Collins, who was looking miserable and uncharacteristically at a loss for words, had the sense to wait until the door had closed before he at last said, “I truly do not understand, Cousin Elizabeth. I realize that Mr. Darcy is far … that is, he is very wealthy, and the nephew of an earl, and he says that regarding his cousin Miss de Bourgh he never … in any case, he is certainly a more desirable parti than I am, but I had no idea that you were … that is, when at Longbourn, were you and Mr. Darcy already…?”
He trailed off, and Elizabeth said, “No, Fitzwilliam and I were not in any sort of relationship last autumn, I assure you. As to why I refused your offer of marriage, well, sir, do you wish to be happy in marriage?”
“Of course,” Collins said, and took another sip of truly excellent tea.
“Then you should be extremely thankful that I refused you, Cousin. I would not make you happy, not at all. I am a determined lady, and I like to dance, and take long walks, and read a great many novels. I would not be able to respect Lady Catherine as you think she deserves, and our home would not have been a peaceful place. Surely you would not like that?”
The parson gulped hard and wiped his brow with his sleeve.
“That is true enough, Cousin,” he said in a subdued tone.
“Perhaps you could wed my daughter Mary,” Bennet mused aloud.
Darcy held out his cup for Elizabeth to refill and said, “With all due respect, sir, I doubt that Lady Catherine has any intention of allowing a Bennet to serve as mistress of the Hunsford parsonage, and presumably Mr. Collins does not wish to upset his patroness any more than she already is.”
“No, indeed not!” Mr. Collins exclaimed.
Bennet sighed deeply.
***
The Library
Pemberley
The Next Morning
This, Mr. Bennet thought, was probably what Heaven looked like.
He was seated in a deep leather armchair in front of the fire in the library at Pemberley, admiring the work of what must have been generations of bibliophiles.
Shelf after shelf lined the wall, filled to overflowing with books upon books.
Candles sat readily available upon every side table between comfortable couches and chairs and settees, and large windows with their curtains opened wide let sunlight pour in.
Bennet reached for his cup of coffee and took a sip, then had a bite of bran muffin.
A maid had been sweeping the hallway outside of his room when he had emerged that morning, and she had been most obliging in directing him to the library.
He had scarcely taken a step down the hall when she called after him, “Would you like me to have breakfast sent to you, sir?”
Bennet considered that an excellent idea, accepted her suggestion, and went on to the library.
He was still been standing, astounded and admiring, in the middle of the floor, when the coffee and muffins and butter were delivered by a footman to the table by the fire.
The servant slipped out, scarcely noticed by the man still caught in wonder in the middle of the room.
Eventually Bennet had made his way over, in a stupor of dazed delight, to collapse into the chair and enjoy the provided repast.
He finished his muffin with leisurely enjoyment, his gaze finally drifting on from admiring the books to observing the view outside the window.
Though the library was already warm courtesy of the large fire in the massive hearth, the outdoors looked coldly beautiful.
A layer of snow had fallen in the night, softening the silhouettes of the wild hills and trees around Pemberley.
Cold wind stirred the needles and boughs of the evergreens in the parkland and rattled the barren bows of naked trees together, but not so much as a whisper of a draft crept in about the edges of the well-seated glass of the windows.
Bennet’s guest bedchamber and the library both showed a care and concern for the comfort of the inhabitants.
He had slept well and deeply, the sheets clean and aired, the blankets heavy and warm, the fire laid and lit already when he woke.
The muffin that was now no more than a pleasant memory had been steaming hot, fresh from the oven, and delicious.
As for the library, Bennet would count himself blessed above all men if he could spend every day of the rest of his life in that room alone.
He could be happy here in this grand old house; he was happy here.
There was only one stain on his ease, a great black blot.
The mansion was owned by the husband of his runaway daughter; not the husband he had intended for her, but the wealthy and well-connected husband she had chosen for herself.
Bennet sighed over his coffee, his hands wrapped around the warm cup.
He was still livid with Elizabeth for flouting him, for running away, for exposing them all to the terrible prospect of scandal.
Her elopement to Scotland was a further disgrace, but there was nothing he could do to change it.
She was married now, and it did not take an intellect the equal of his own to acknowledge that she was beyond his reach and control.
Darcy was obviously besotted and would not take kindly to any efforts on anyone’s part to annul the marriage, as he had made quite plain with his unequivocal dismissal of his aunt.
Bennet had neither the funds nor the standing to fight his new son-in-law, nor much inclination to expend so much effort.
If Darcy truly wanted the headstrong and disobedient Elizabeth, well then, he was welcome to her, as far as Bennet was concerned.
No, better now to turn his efforts to hushing up any rumors that might begin to circulate.
He was well aware of how gossip spread in Meryton, and their neighbors would be curious how Elizabeth, supposedly recovering from scarlet fever in London, had come to be wed to the haughty and unpopular master of Pemberley.
It was going to take ingenuity on Bennet’s part to turn the rumors in the direction he preferred.
His thoughts were interrupted by the library door opening. He looked up and rose as his wayward daughter and her new husband entered arm in arm. Some servant out of sight swung the door shut behind them, leaving Bennet and the newlywed couple alone.
“Good morning, Father,” Elizabeth said coolly. “I hope you slept well?”
“Very well, thank you,” he replied, though he could not help but cast a nervous look at Mr. Darcy.
The young man was tall and very strong, and given his behavior regarding his aunt, it would behoove him to speak carefully.
He would not be shocked to be physically thrown out of Pemberley if he spoke unwisely.
Darcy guided his wife to a small settee across from his father-in-law and then sat down next to her.
The pair immediately reached out to hold hands, and Bennet was aware of a throb of resentful envy.
He had chosen Mrs. Bennet of his own free will, of course, but it had been an incredibly foolish decision.
His wife was beautiful, but she was also quite stupid.
Elizabeth’s marriage would likely be far happier than his own.
“I suppose that I owe you something of an apology for insisting on your marrying Mr. Collins, Lizzy,” he said meekly.
She wrinkled her nose and said, “Not unless you mean it, Father, and I doubt you do.”
He blinked and found his gaze dropping to the polished floor. He did not genuinely regret it; it was true. His intentions had been excellent, after all.
“Mr. Bennet,” Darcy said, “I do not entirely understand why you made the choices you did regarding my wife, but nothing can change the past. The question now is whether you are willing to assist in hushing up any scandal associated with our marriage.”
He forced himself to look into the eyes of the master of Pemberley. “Of course I will do anything I can to protect the Bennet name.”
“Are you willing to be part of a church wedding at the chapel here at Pemberley?” Darcy asked.
Bennet blinked and then nodded slowly. “That would be an excellent way to ward off rumors, so yes.”
“Very well, I will obtain a license, and we will have the ceremony within a day or two,” Darcy said.
“And what of Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins?” Bennet inquired.
“I will be escorting Mr. Collins to the Inn in Lambton, and I hope to convince my aunt to leave for Kent today or tomorrow morning. There is nothing for her or her rector to do now.”
Bennet nodded. “I do not pretend to know your aunt well, Mr. Darcy, but do you think she will depart?”
“I am not certain,” Darcy admitted, “but she will not be permitted to cross my threshold. If she prefers to spend the next weeks in Lambton, that is her right, of course.”
“I am not surprised that Lady Catherine made the journey here,” Elizabeth remarked, “but I confess to some surprise that you came with her, Father. You have never been fond of traveling.”
Bennet swallowed and took a moment to look around at the gleaming shelves surrounding him, with their myriad books.
“She offered me one thousand pounds to come north, with the promise of an additional two thousand pounds if I helped to secure your marriage to Collins,” he confessed. “Given that I have not set aside any savings for my wife and daughters, I could not refuse.”
“Mr. Bennet,” Darcy said quietly, “I know that you are aware that I am a very wealthy man. Why would you attempt to block a marriage between Elizabeth and myself? Now that I am married to your daughter, I consider it my sacred duty to care for her mother and sisters as needed.”
Bennet rubbed his forehead with one unquiet hand and said, “I truly did not believe that you intended to marry Lizzy, Mr. Darcy. The last I knew, Elizabeth disliked you profoundly, and you disdained her. Indeed, I was not at all confident that Lady Catherine’s information was correct, that you were here, Elizabeth, but I thought it worth the effort to come north and see. ”
The Darcys exchanged glances, and Elizabeth said, “I understand. Well, I have no doubt that you admire this library, so feel free to rest and read, Father. Fitzwilliam and I have quite a bit to do.”
“Of course,” he replied, caught between irritation at his daughter’s casual dismissal and his own desire to spend the rest of the day reading.
He decided to focus on enjoying the books.