Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Tears welled in Marianne’s eyes at the thought of his circumstances so distressed. She knew the pain of losing a father, of losing a beloved home and living in a state of genteel poverty that no amount of time could have made comfortable for her.
Lady Rebecca, however, was not impressed. She scoffed and shook her head. “And I suppose you believed Miss Eliza Williams more suitable to such a life of deprivation?”
Recollection of this betrayal reignited Marianne’s temper. “I met her, quite by accident, when Colonel Brandon was escorting her to bear your child with his relations.”
“I wrote to you of this,” he sighed. “It was a fabrication; she has admitted as much to the colonel.”
Marianne shook her head in disbelief. “No.”
“Yes,” he said emphatically. “Though the rumor reached Lady Allen and influenced her decision to urge me to seek a bride when I reached London, I had never heard of it until your cousin confronted me publicly at the Twelfth Night ball. I spoke to Colonel Brandon, who was as loath to trust me as you are. We traveled together to visit his ward and devised a scheme which proved that she did not know me. He introduced me to her under another name, and she did not contradict him. He then introduced another man of equally fine appearance as John Willoughby, who had come to make her an offer, and she willingly accepted. She is to be wed, happily, and in my vindication I wish her well.”
“But why would she lie? I do not understand,” Marianne cried.
“To wound you. She knew you to be the lady who had disappointed the colonel’s hopes, and she knew that it was for my sake you refused to open your heart to him. It was a petty impulse, and she begs your forgiveness.”
Marianne pressed her eyes closed, recollecting the malicious glee Miss Williams had exhibited as she delivered the blow that dashed all her hopes. When she opened her eyes again, she stared at Mr. Willoughby in silence, searching for a lie that she could not find in his open and undemanding gaze.
“I am grateful to your cousin for berating me as she did, as it allowed me to clear my name and disabuse you of what you must have thought of me. The public spectacle also moved Miss Grey to sever our connection, after Lady Allen announced our engagement before I knew of it – I would never have proposed to her, and so I owe Miss Elizabeth Bennet my humblest thanks.”
“It is interesting,” Lady Rebecca mused, resting one hand on Marianne’s shoulder.
“If you were willing to believe such a thing of Mr. Willoughby, perhaps your affection for him was never as great as you imagined. The novelty of his attention in so dreary a place must have been agreeable, but I can think of a certain gentleman whom you would surely not believe such slander of. Is that not so?”
Mr. Willoughby sat up straighter and gave Marianne a lopsided grin. “Well!”
Marianne considered this. She had been ready to think the worst of Mr. Bingley before they met, as was right of her, given her affection for Jane.
But now, she had long since cherished a secret resentment toward her cousin for giving up on such an affable man.
It was impossible not to be charmed by Mr. Bingley.
He was not the cleverest of men, nor had he the soul of a poet, which she had always believed a reasonable requirement in a true gentleman.
But he was good through and through, and she would never believe such slander of him.
Mr. Willoughby relaxed a little, and still he smiled in the face of her turmoil.
“I have felt myself honor-bound to you, after the attention that I paid you. I can offer very little, for though I have been too craven to shake the yoke of Lady Allen’s expectations, I am relieved that she has withdrawn her support, and I would not have her money now for all the world. ”
Marianne studied Mr. Willoughby in an entirely disconnected fashion, as if he were a stranger to her.
He was altered since their last meeting, and in a way that defied explanation, despite her penchant for a pretty turn of phrase.
She liked him a little better, but desired him rather less.
“I suppose I can forgive Jane for praising you so well, if you have been faced with such adversity,” she admitted.
“But I cannot,” Lady Rebecca drawled. “I have heard from my brother, Viscount Bellamy, that you have been quite devoted to Miss Caroline Bingley in recent weeks. He is grateful to you for it, but to me it is a sign of most inferior judgement.”
Mr. Willoughby laughed. “Would you be Lady Rebecca Fitzwilliam, then? It is a pleasure to meet you so informally. You are lauded by your relations in London, and I can assure Miss Marianne’s cousins that they shall not be disappointed when they have the privilege of making your acquaintance.”
“Since Jane is disposed to approve of everybody,” Marianne muttered bitterly.
“And I have considered myself singularly beholden to that wise and generous paragon of virtue,” Mr. Willoughby said, resting a hand on his heart.
“So much so that I have endured many evenings of Miss Bingley’s company, in an effort to thwart her endeavors.
You must be aware, Lady Rebecca, of Miss Bingley’s aspirations to become a viscountess. ”
Lady Rebecca looked skeptical. “And you have detached her from my brother for Jane Bennet’s sake, rather than the allure of her fortune?”
“Miss Grey’s fortune was twice what Miss Bingley’s is, and that lady was not half so…
unsuited to my disposition, shall we say.
I am no more willing to bind myself to a woman I cannot love, whatever her fortune, than I am to bind a woman I do admire to a life of limited means.
Had things been different, had I never met you, Miss Marianne, I might have been blessed with a match of affection and fortune blended so harmoniously – but I digress. ”
Marianne gasped and leaned forward across the desk. “You mean Jane!” And then, something in her heart cried out in relief. Jane’s praise of Mr. Willoughby, and his evident admiration in return – Marianne was perfectly ready to be vindicated for what she had come to feel for Mr. Bingley.
“Well, perhaps you have assisted Miss Bennet in coming to know my brother better, but it was all for naught,” Lady Rebecca said, stepping around the desk in slow, predatory steps. Marianne knew her friend well by now – Lady Rebecca wished to make sport of Mr. Willoughby for some wicked purpose.
“I have heard from my family this morning. Miss Bennet has told my poor brother that she feels only the warmest friendship for him; her affections are engaged elsewhere.”
“Mr. Bingley?” Mr. Willoughby furrowed his brow and glanced toward the closed door. “Is that Mr. Bingley?”
Marianne scoffed. “He is an excellent man; of course she should cherish some lingering tendre for him.” To her supreme dismay, a tear slid down her cheek.
“But she does not.” Lady Rebecca briskly swiped the tear from Marianne’s cheek and then perched atop one corner of the desk.
She looked between Marianne and Mr. Willoughby with a look of high humor.
“It is a rare distinction, to perpetually be the cleverest person in the room. But as ever, I shall rise to the occasion. Ha! How delightful.”
Marianne looked to her friend in some confusion. “What do you mean? Surely I can absolve Mr. Willoughby of the worst of what I had imagined.”
“Oh, I believe you must, once you are in possession of all the facts.”
Mr. Willoughby grimaced. “I have been entirely forthright.”
Lady Rebecca leaned a little closer to him, narrowing her eyes. “Tell me, were you keen to encourage the match between Miss Jane Bennet and my brother?”
Mr. Willoughby lowered his gaze for a moment.
“She was very graciously willing to reconcile me with her cousin, and, knowing her to have suffered a recent disappointment of her own, I thought it a right thing that I should do what I could to clear the path for her to acquaint herself with the viscount better. Perhaps I thought it strange that he seemed far livelier when speaking to her aunt, Mrs. Gardiner….”
He looked up sharply, his eyes flaring with sudden ire, though he spoke with utter calm.
“Very well, I thought them abominably ill-suited. Clearly you have had your brother’s share of humor, madam, and amongst the Bennet sisters Miss Elizabeth has all the credit of mirth, while Miss Bennet’s subtle wit is seldom acknowledged due to her remarkable beauty.
I should imagine their union would have been a miserable one; for all his rank and fortune, and even his goodness, which I shall not dispute, she deserves better.
But upon my honor, she deserved to discover as much for herself. ”
Marianne gasped. “You love her!”
Lady Rebecca surveyed Marianne for a moment before pacing the room, her fingers steepled before her, smiling like she had just been crowned Empress of all Christendom.
“It is too delicious! Two cousins left disappointed in love, and each unexpectedly acquainted with the man who abandoned the other. And each, perhaps, feeling terribly guilty that they cannot loathe the gentlemen in question.”
Mr. Willoughby turned to Marianne with a look of astonishment, and he glanced back at the door, which Mr. Bingley was likely still standing sentinel on the other side of. “Can it be?”
Marianne gaped at him. “Could it possibly?” And then, she burst out laughing, tears of relief pouring from her eyes. “Oh, thank the Lord! What agonies my conscience has suffered!”
“I daresay Miss Bennet’s conscience has been similarly affected,” Mr. Willoughby mused. “Perhaps that is why her sister was so cross with me. But I dare not presume….”