Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Darcy and his companions arrived in town at the dinner hour on Thursday.
It was too late to call on either of his uncles that night, although he was eager to accomplish the next step in his plan so that he might finally become an engaged man.
Instead, he ensured his sister was properly settled after their journey and reviewed the responses to the letters he had sent out asking for information about his father’s intentions—or even hopes—for his future.
Everything he had learnt led to only one possible conclusion: Hugh Darcy may have considered a union between his son and niece prudent, given Anne’s fortune and because it would strengthen the connexion between the Darcys and de Bourghs, but he had taken no steps to prepare for it.
Nor was there proof that he would have insisted on it, had he lived.
The following morning, Darcy went to see his uncle Frederick Darcy.
If anyone would know of his father’s wishes for the future, it was Frederick; the brothers had always been close.
His aunt and cousin were out, and while Darcy regretted not seeing them, it was his uncle with whom he most needed to speak.
Even though Frederick had heard something of the situation with Elizabeth, Lady Catherine, and his other maternal relations, Darcy reviewed it, providing more details than Bramwell had when he had called two days ago.
“I searched through all my father’s papers, wrote to the solicitors he used, even spoke to the vicar in Derbyshire.
I can find nothing to suggest that he was going to tell me I must marry my cousin, or even that it was more than a vague wish of his and my mother’s,” Darcy said. “Did he ever mention it to you?”
His uncle, a tall, middle-aged man who bore a striking resemblance to his late brother, and to Darcy himself, sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the padded arm. They were in the book-room, a space Darcy had always liked, even as a boy when his father would bring him to visit.
“Well, I know your mother favoured the notion of her child marrying her sister’s. She and Lady Catherine had a close connexion, as you might recall, despite being so young when she died. I have the impression your aunt has wanted it more fervently since then, to have a stronger tie to her sister.”
He had been just thirteen when Lady Anne Darcy had died of infection. Nodding, he said, “But did it go further than that? Did my father ever speak of it to you?”
Frederick shook his head but then furrowed his brow as though trying to remember.
“Parents tend to speak of their children, and my brother and I often did. Thus, I suppose I should say yes, but in general terms only. He always said you were too young to make such an important decision—to do it wisely, that is. From what I recall, he planned to have a more serious conversation about marriage and your future duties at Pemberley once you were five-and-twenty. That would be a good age for you to take on part of his work, just as he did for our father, and to start looking about you for an appropriate wife.” He gave Darcy a sad smile.
“How I wish he had lived that long, as I know you and Georgiana both do. What I know with absolute certainty is that he would want you to do what would bring you the most satisfaction in life. Within reason, of course. Tell me about this young lady you are so fond of and that your mother’s people find so objectionable. ”
“I assure you, there is nothing objectionable about Elizabeth,” Darcy said.
It was an effort not to sound as vexed as he felt; his uncle did not deserve it.
His question was understandable and natural.
He paused and composed himself before continuing.
“Without wishing to sound like a love-sick puppy, I do not see how anyone could find the least thing objectionable about her apart from lacking fortune and connexions. She is a gentleman’s daughter,” he added and proceeded to provide as accurate a portrait of Elizabeth and her family as possible.
His uncle listened attentively, and once Darcy was finished, said, “I cannot say what my brother would have thought of the situation, but he would judge your Miss Elizabeth Bennet based on her not just her circumstances. It would be preferable if her mother’s people were better situated, but you said the uncle who lives in town is respectable, which is comforting.
For my part, and I know I speak for my wife and children, we trust your opinion and only want you to be happy.
I am willing to speak to her father to assure him we would welcome her into the family. ”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” This task done, Darcy’s mind was already drifting to what else he wanted to accomplish that day.
Showing he had guessed as much, Frederick said, “I am sure you have many other tasks to see to. How long will you be in town?”
“I hope to leave on Monday.” He would go to Rosings first, to have a serious conversation with his aunt, one that might result in a permanent breach between them.
“Good. I shall not keep you then, but only if you promise to bring Georgiana to dinner before you go. That way you can see your aunt and Rebecca.”
They agreed on a day, and Darcy went to his next appointment.
The Romsleys insisted he and Georgiana spend Sunday with them.
It suited Darcy well, as it provided him an opportunity to speak to both his uncle and aunt.
As he had with Frederick Darcy, he explained everything he had learnt from his investigations and encouraged the earl to recall exactly what his father had said to him about the future, setting aside Lady Catherine’s claims.
“You must know that I intend to explain to Mr Bennet everything I have done and heard, none of which leads me to believe I would honour my father’s, or my mother’s, wishes by marrying Anne. Lady Catherine says she has letters and an unsigned contract, but have you seen them?”
The earl shook his head, his demeanour reluctant and slightly abashed—although the latter might have been only what Darcy thought his uncle should feel.
Darcy nodded once in satisfaction. “With respect, I do not believe she can produce such documents. If there is not even a hint of their existence amongst my father’s records…”
“My sister probably…exaggerated, shall we say?” Lord Romsley said.
Again, Darcy nodded. “I shall explain this all to Mr Bennet and ask for his consent to marry Elizabeth. If necessary, I shall share it with every person I know, even those merely interested, should anyone claim I am obligated to Anne. I am not, not by honour and certainly not legally. I will not be prevented from living according to my own wishes by threats, no matter who issues them.”
Lord Romsley sighed and scratched a spot above his left eye, only responding after an annoyingly long pause.
Lady Romsley smiled kindly at Darcy then watched her husband, allowing him time to reflect on his response.
Darcy was glad his uncle did not appear willing to argue with him, unlike when they had been in Hertfordshire, and hoped it meant they would soon settle the matter and forget about it.
Forgetting might not be so easy, he thought, but in time, we shall, and as long as Elizabeth is treated as she ought to be, I shall forgive him and my aunt.
It was doubtful his connexion to Lady Catherine would recover; if it survived at all, Darcy would henceforth treat her and Anne as a familial responsibility and no more—one he acknowledged only because he knew it would have pleased his mother.
“Your father talked of it being a good thing,” the earl said.
“He did, truly. It is the rare man who does not care about expanding his wealth and influence, and Rosings would make a substantial addition to the Darcy fortune and provide a second son with an enviable inheritance. And you cannot overlook that my sisters did speak of it as a fond wish.” He waggled a finger at Darcy.
“Do not mistake that. Your mother wanted you to marry Anne.”
“And, as much as I regret it, my mother died when I was only thirteen and Anne eleven,” Darcy interjected. “You cannot say that she would want it now, were she still living. Especially if she knew I did not.”
“You know she would not,” the countess said, speaking to the earl.
Lord Romsley sighed again, this time more heavily.
“I suppose. I have thought of the conversations your father and I had often this past week, and, before you ask, as I can see you mean to, he never said he would insist on it. Even when we were your age, he believed young men and women should be allowed to choose their own partners in life. As long as they were making prudent decisions, that is.”
Darcy was sitting on the edge of his chair. His uncle’s final words brought a scowl to his face. “Please, spare me a lecture on why you do not believe Elizabeth is a wise choice. I know what you would say.”
“Do you?” His uncle laughed as though having won a point, which Darcy found puzzling until he explained, regarding Lady Romsley fondly. “You have not yet heard what my wife has to say. She tells me I have changed my opinion and have no objections to the young lady.”
Darcy gaped at them, certain he looked as stupid as he felt.
“I have been to Hertfordshire to see your Miss Elizabeth,” the countess announced.
Alarm shot through Darcy at the notion that yet another aunt had confronted her. It was soon eased by recalling the earl’s final words and continued to lighten as he took in Lady Romsley’s smiling visage as she told him of her visit.
“She is a charming young woman,” she said.
“Intelligent and lively, just as you assured us. Her manners need a little polish, but that is easily tended to, not to turn her into a copy of every other lady of the ton but just enough to ensure she earns acceptance. She is caring too. That was obvious in how she spoke of her family, and I would be very glad to know that you and Georgiana had someone who would dedicate herself to your well-being.”
“In short,” the earl said, “she has convinced my wife that you ought to marry and all without saying a word about it, from what I have been told.” He and the countess exchanged a look.
“And I realise I owe you an apology. You know how infrequently and reluctantly I admit to being mistaken, but when it is warranted, I shall. I listened to Catherine too readily, and I believed her that you were acting recklessly. I ought to have made my own enquiries, starting by speaking to you. I do not agree that I should keep my opinions regarding your life to myself. I am your uncle—”
“And I shall always listen to your perspective and advice, even if I decide not to follow it,” Darcy interjected, agreeing with his uncle’s sentiment but also wanting to make it clear that he would not be ordered about by anyone.
“As I said to Miss Elizabeth, you are part of this family, thus what you do does affect us,” the countess said. “By the same token, how we act has consequences for you. It is worth bearing that in mind.”
Lord Romsley and Darcy both nodded.
“Unfortunately, no one can completely control Catherine, and she will be furious, but I shall use what influence I have,” the earl said.
“As to you, Darcy, I shall say nothing more about who should become the future Mrs Darcy. That is a matter for you to determine. Well, I will say that Miss Elizabeth will be received by us just as she would be had she fifty thousand and a dozen dukes for uncles—”
“No one has a dozen dukes for uncles,” Lady Romsley said, rolling her eyes.
“I thought you would appreciate my show of good humour,” his lordship said. “Just two days ago, you accused me of being too dour.”
They debated the matter for a moment longer, and despite wanting to return to the subject of his future, Darcy left them to it.
The couple had been married for over thirty years, and he took their connexion as an example of the one he wished to have with Elizabeth.
That summer, he realised that Mr and Mrs Gardiner also had the sort of relationship he wished to have with his wife—one of mutual companionship, respect, affection, love, and friendship.
When his aunt and uncle recalled that he was there, they spoke a little more of his current circumstances and his intention to go to Kent the next day, after which he would return to Hertfordshire.
The countess assured him that the earl would write two letters for him to bring with him—one for Lady Catherine and the other for Mr Bennet.
Both would state that Darcy was under no obligation to Anne de Bourgh, was free to marry where he liked, and that he and his wife greatly anticipated welcoming Miss Elizabeth Bennet as their new niece.
“I shall ensure he does the thing right,” Lady Romsley told him.
“And I shall ensure my sister knows that if she embroils me in such a pointless task again, I shall never forgive her,” Lord Romsley muttered. “Given I have been called upon to completely revise my opinion in less than a fortnight, I must ask, what was it all for?”
To make me become the only man in the kingdom willing to propose to the same lady three times, Darcy silently quipped.
Only for Elizabeth would he be willing to humble himself thus.
Soon they would have their reward for how tumultuous their path to happiness had been.
Before Christmas, they might be married—would be, if he had his way.
All the strife and sorrow of the past year, especially those related to his ill-fated proposal at Easter and her younger sister’s elopement, would be forgot, washed away by the joy of being married to the woman he loved more than he had known it possible to love anyone.