Chapter Nine #3
“There are. One of my husband’s brothers is a colonel who has been fighting on the continent, and has lately gone missing.
One has been involved, but John has gone over the books and suspects the man of dealing dishonestly.
The other two brothers would almost certainly swindle us, or simply ruin us through their ineptitude.
My sons are too young yet; they are both at Eton.
There is only John, for though he is not blood, my dear Mr. Hatchard trusts him implicitly. ”
Mr. Willoughby gave Jane a sad smile. “Mr. Hatchard has raised me from a boy of six. It is a family business, and I love that shop. I love the smell of the books, the excitement of readers finding volumes that will thrill and enlighten them. And I have my half-sisters to think of, Sophie will come out next year, and Claire two years after. Their inheritance shall depend on the success of the bookshop, and yet their status may also be raised by Combe Magna thriving.”
“You know how that goes,” Mrs. Hatchard said to Mrs. Gardiner with a sad smile. “They are the dearest girls in the world, but they are the daughters of a tradesman.”
“They are also the half-sisters of a gentleman of property, which may raise their standing a little, if Combe Magna were more respectable when it is time for them to wed. Lady Allen has wielded my affection for them against me, painting a pretty picture of Combe Magna thriving, hosting house parties with a society bride so that my brothers and sisters might make fine alliances, or afford the luxury of love matches themselves.”
Jane wished to throw her arms around Mr. Willoughby and condole with him over his misfortunes. She wished to do the same with Marianne. “What an impossible situation! But why does Marianne not understand your circumstances, your sacrifice?”
“When I left her, I still clung to some hope that Lady Allen might be reasoned with, and I did not know the severity of my step-father’s condition. And since then… I have been a coward, Miss Bennet. I know it will break her heart.”
“Her heart is broken already, sir. The truth may at least be of comfort to her; she will find peace in knowing that you are acting nobly for love of your family, and that she has not wasted her heart on a villain.”
Mrs. Hatchard sniffled. “Oh, John, I feel so horrid that you must sacrifice! But Miss Bennet is correct. You ought to give her cousin that absolution, if it shall be of any comfort to her. He did love her, Miss Bennet; he spoke of her to me with such powerful sentiments, it broke my heart that his aunt should commence directly with pressing him into this match with Miss Grey.”
“But when you met my niece – forgive me, sir, but you gave the impression of an unattached gentleman.”
Mr. Willoughby colored a little. “I am still a romantic, Mrs. Gardiner, though I must take care to fall in love with a lady of fortune. To meet a beautiful woman in Mayfair, a woman in fashionable attire, residing at a fashionable address… I thought I had found that impossible harmony of a woman I could admire, who is actually suitable.”
For a moment, Jane regarded him with tenderness at the hopes he expressed, for up until an hour ago, she had shared them. “But you must understand that this is now quite impossible – I cannot betray my cousin by receiving your addresses, sir.”
His shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “I hope I may still call you a friend – Sophie wishes to know more of you and your sister.”
“To that I will certainly agree.”
“But there is still the matter of Miss Williams,” Mrs. Gardiner reminded her.
“I can offer no explanation whatsoever – I have never heard of the lady, nor met her – I am entirely flummoxed.”
Mrs. Hatchard looked at her son with affectionate pity, and not a trace of doubt in his goodness. “Perhaps you ought to tell us about it, Miss Bennet.”
Jane recounted what had transpired when the ladies of Longbourn encountered Colonel Brandon and his ward, clarifying every detail, and Mrs. Hatchard asked a great many questions. Mr. Willoughby listened with an expression of absolute confusion, shaking his head at every revelation.
Finally, Jane gave him leave to make his reply.
“Miss Bennet, I should not dream of paying my addresses to one so young – she is the same age as Sophie, who is in many ways still a child, though she has grown in grace and decorum since I have been in London. And before my visit to Allenham, I was in London six months continuously, for my step-father took ill many months before the doctors informed us that he will not recover.”
“If he was in London, he could not have… met this young woman,” Mrs. Hatchard said. “And he never left, not even for a day – not even to manage Combe Magna; he has been obliged to communicate daily with his steward.”
“We might ask Colonel Brandon if his ward was ever in London,” Mrs. Gardiner said to Jane. “I dearly wish to believe you, sir, for the sake of my friend, and my niece, and even her cousin. But at present, we have only your word against that of Miss Williams.”
“I cannot think why she would name me as her child’s father – I wish to speak reasonably with the colonel about it, but he despises me for being Marianne’s preference, though he attempted in his somber way of wooing her while I was in the country.
For this alone, he may be willing to believe the worst of me. ”
Jane looked between her three companions with a small, hopeful smile.
Mrs. Gardiner appeared to trust Mrs. Hatchard, and Jane desperately wished to absolve Mr. Willoughby.
It briefly occurred to her that the colonel might have asked his ward to slander his rival in an effort to win Marianne’s affections for himself, but she quickly dismissed this notion.
He was too honorable, she was sure of it – and he was here, not pursuing Marianne in Hertfordshire. She did not know what to think.
***
Elizabeth did not enjoy eating crow, but she was obliged to do so during the supper set, after Mr. Darcy relayed to her the substance of his conversation with Jane.
She was shocked and chagrined, and even his compassion nettled her, for Mr. Darcy was not as smug in his triumph as Elizabeth herself might have been.
He took no satisfaction in humbling her, as seemed only to wish to ease her tribulations.
“You once again betray your own depth of tenderness for those you care about,” Mr. Darcy said gently. “You believed me to have done your sister a great wrong, and in truth I might not have been honest with her if you had not spoken to me as you did.”
“Well, you must allow me to be sorry for it, anyhow,” Elizabeth said ruefully.
“I ask no apology of you – though perhaps I might request no further repetition of your rancor, now that we are all in accord. I hope your wrath is spent.”
She laughed bitterly. “I should hope so, too. I have quarreled with two gentlemen in one evening, and the night is not half over. I shall be known as a menace to good society!”
His lips twitched upward. “You would be a fascinating study for my cousin, Lady Rebecca, for she has applied herself to the science of such notoriety.”
“I suppose a young widow is entitled to do so. I am nobody of consequence, and I would not blame my aunt and my hostess Mrs. Jennings if they lock me up for the rest of my time in London.” Elizabeth sighed as she spun about, determined to rally herself to be cheerful.
She managed a wry smirk. “It was worth it, though – telling off Mr. Willoughby. There can be no mistake on that score, for he truly treated my cousin Marianne abominably!”
Mr. Darcy’s gaze flicked to the side, and he made a subtle gesture to where Mr. Willoughby sat, speaking with Jane, Mrs. Gardiner, and Mrs. Hatchard. “Your aunt is patting his hand.”
Elizabeth looked that way, and a grumbling growl bubbled in her throat. “I shall drag Marianne to London myself, and unleash her upon him, if he thinks to talk his way out of what he has done.”
“Is Miss Marianne as bold and fearless as you are?”
She laughed. “Your tactful choice of words does you credit, Mr. Darcy. Yes, Marianne is indeed as brash and governed by impetuous feelings as I am. Oh! I just thought of something terribly wicked!”
“And what is that, Miss Elizabeth? Do be brash, and tell me.” Mr. Darcy flashed her a dazzling smile.
Elizabeth nearly missed one of her steps.
“Marianne is very like me – and I have made a great spectacle of myself at a ball, decrying the villainy of more than one gentleman. And tonight, I expect Marianne is with the rest of my family, at the Gouldings’ ball at Haye Park.
I begin to hope Mr. Bingley is not in attendance. Marianne is very like me.”
“Oh – I comprehend you – Miss Marianne may give my friend the same style of greeting.” He made an exaggerated expression of alarm. “You cannot tell me you would think it entirely unwarranted.”
“But I begin to think Jane would not wish it. Well, perhaps as he has only just arrived, he will not have heard of the party. I will write to her tomorrow morning and ask Marianne to behave civilly to him.”
“If your letter is too late, you may at least take comfort in knowing that if your cousin does anything like what you have done tonight, she will find a fast friend in my cousin. Lady Rebecca has never hesitated to give Bingley the business when he deserves it – chiefly for being influenced by his sisters.”
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy shared a laugh, and it was an oddly pleasing moment, even when they lapsed into silence afterward. At last, he spoke again. “You are somebody of great consequence.”
A nervous laugh bubbled from her lips. “I am?”
“Before, you said that you were nobody of consequence – you had more to say, and I did not wish to interrupt and contradict you. But I have always believed you to be confident and completely aware of your own worth; I beg you would not be so severe upon yourself now.”