Chapter 12 Something That You Do #2
Anne gently continued, “Will, whether she trapped you or not… whether she was in on the scheme or not… whether she deserves it or not… whether she is basically a good person in a desperate position, a fortune hunting vulture, or as much a victim as you… none of that matters. In less than a week, she will be your wife! You will begin a journey of fifty years. Do you plan to spend the whole time in acrimony?”
Darcy was astounded at the suggestion, but it was just too much.
The stress and strain of carrying the entire family’s defects on his own shoulders, plus the strain of making sure his estate was safe and secure for the next half-year, including making certain his new wife was under control and not attempting to bankrupt him, plus the thought of the sea voyage necessary to get where he was going, which was coincidentally in the middle of a war, was wearing him down to nothing.
Anne and Bingley waited patiently, and Darcy noticed they both kept rubbing each other’s hands and arms affectionately, but subtly, and wondered at the speed of their attachment.
Finally, he said, “No, we cannot exist the entire time in acrimony. I… well… eventually, I will have to swallow my pride and find a way to coexist with the woman.”
Neither Bingley nor Anne liked the tone he applied to the woman, but they both thought there was little point in trying to sway Darcy just yet. He would get along with his wife, or he would make them both miserable, but it seemed unlikely he was ready to listen to reason.
Bingley decided he would try to intercede about the time Darcy came back to England.
He even thought about visiting Mrs Darcy during his absence, but that seemed like a suicide mission that he wanted no part of.
With two estates under his control, when he had all of six weeks of instruction on estate management in his life, the gentleman decided he had his own issues to deal with.
Suddenly remembering the earlier confusing look, Anne said, “Fitzwilliam, you still have not told us how you ended up in that position.”
Darcy nodded. “I asked her to dance.”
Anne gasped, and started to speak, but Darcy cut her off. “Yes, yes, yes, I know. I stuck my own foot into the trap, and so on and so forth. I did ask her to dance, and—”
Anne and Bingley leaned forward expectantly, so Darcy sighed. “—and we quarrelled. Wickham was there spreading his poison, and Miss Elizabeth asked me about him. She—”
He stopped and thought about it. “I am too close to it to know if she was goading me, genuinely credulous of his story, curious or—”
He shook his head. “I suppose I will just never know, but I am convinced she was working me. She was attacking my honour, at my weakest point. I gently took her arm, pulled her over to a perfectly public but quiet corner to set her straight, and the rest is history. The neighbours vanished, her mother came along right on schedule, then her father. She had all night to manoeuvre me somewhere vulnerable, and they struck while the iron was hot.”
Anne shook nervously at the strain in his voice, but seeing little profit in discussing the actual compromise, she gently asked, “Why did you ask her to dance, Will? You almost never do that?”
Darcy looked chagrined. “Whatever arts and allurements she may or may not have been practising were working, at least somewhat. I must admit that I was enjoying a mild flirtation with her, a bit of an infatuation. I thought to indulge myself for once, since I was planning to leave within the week.”
Anne leaned back, thinking that her cousin was the absolute, undisputed king of self-delusion, so she had some slim hope that he might do the right thing, after he had exhausted all other possibilities—or at least, he might have, before the Bennets dug their own hole.
She thought she might speculate on the matter later.
Darcy would obviously never have considered Miss Bennet seriously, no matter how strong his flirtation and infatuation had been, so the Bennets had played the hand as well as they could.
Shaking herself loose from her thoughts, Anne said, “Fitzwilliam, you will have to either live with her or put her aside and make other arrangements.”
Darcy shook his head. “I will never do that.”
She nodded, happy to see that there was some honour left in her family. It was too little and too late, but they would have to take what they could get.
Darcy heaved a great sigh and took more brandy. “She will be my wife, and she will birth my heir. Beyond that… well… I will do my best, I suppose.
Anne said, “You must get along with her. I can tell you from experience you do not want to spend decades with a discontented partner in life. Maybe… just… try to be kind to her and see where that gets you.”
Darcy nodded. “The wedding is going to be acrimonious. I cannot imagine I will be in a mood for that.”
“Good mood or not, Will, that first day will set the tone for your entire life. You need to make an effort—a serious effort.”
“I will do my best, Anne.”
They sat in silence listening to the fire crackle for a few minutes, and Darcy sat up and thumped the table. “Enough!”
The Bingleys startled a bit, and Darcy asked, “Explain to me how a simple introduction ended up with a marriage in less than a fortnight? Did you set your own traps, Anne?”
Anne and Bingley just laughed. “Not as such. Can I presume you are not stupid—well actually, that is optimistic, since I have seen rocks that could have avoided Miss Elizabeth? Can I presume you at least worked out the mutual advantageousness of this match, in terms of situation, in terms of fortune, in terms of synchronicity of goals and personalities?”
“I explained that in some detail to your mother. I cannot say she took it well.”
“She has made my life miserable long enough. It is my turn.”
Darcy looked startled, and Anne quickly continued, “I do not mean I will make her miserable. On the contrary, we are not shipping her off to the colonies, the dower house, or anywhere unpleasant. We are simply wresting control of the estate. She will keep her old room, and her favourite sycophants… ah… servants, and spend much of her time as she did before. I just will not allow her to bankrupt my birthright, nor interfere in the neighbours’ affairs. ”
“It is a wonder I did not see it before, but it seems you two are happy, and surprisingly affectionate. How did that come about?”
“What were we to do, Fitzwilliam? Dance at an assembly, then have Charles call for tea, and take walks in the garden and so forth for three months before he worked up his nerve?”
“It sounds impossible. Is it a practical match?”
Darcy had no objection to a practical match if that was what they had decided. Such things were done all the time, and he just wished he had the sense to make one himself, but he had been ridiculously holding out for love and affection—more the fool, him.
Anne gave her new husband a look that belied the entire idea of practicality. “There is just a little of that, but there is more than enough affection to go around, and it grows every day. I can only hope you pull your head out of your arse long enough to find it before it is too late.”
Darcy gasped at the language but then laughed. It had been years since he laughed with his cousin, and he never knew how much he missed it. His aunt had a lot to answer for.
Bingley said, “I must admit something, Darcy. Anne and I are in love. Would you not agree, my wife?”
Anne surprised Darcy by leaning to the edge of the chair, pulling her husband over, and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Bingley continued, “I must admit I came to Rosings with a bitter and cynical spirit. I really thought the eldest Bennet sister was true, and I gave up on love altogether.”
“Understandable enough. I can sympathise.”
Bingley smiled wistfully. “By pure good fortune, I saw my favourite uncle in town. He seldom leaves Scarborough, but there he was, right when I needed him.”
Darcy felt just a bit jealous that Bingley had a favourite uncle. The Earl was someone he could go to for practical advice, but nobody had ever called him a favourite by any stretch of the imagination, and half of his advice was terrible.
Bingley continued, “He sat me down and set me straight. I will never forget his advice.”
Darcy waited patiently.
Bingley continued, “He told me, ‘Love is not something that we find, or something that we have, or something that we are—it is something that we do.’ He said all of us young bucks are hopelessly confused. We experience infatuation, affection, excitement, lust—”
He blushed and glanced at Anne, who surprised both men. “Do not discount the value of lust, husband.”
Darcy wanted to find a rock and crawl under it, but Anne just laughed and told Bingley to continue.
Her husband chuckled. “I can assure you that I did not discuss that subject with my uncle in any depth. He is into his eightieth summer.”
“And?”
“He said love is what you do, day after day, week after week, month after month. You show and experience love with a hundred good and bad things you and your spouse do. All the songs, and books, and rumours deal with a couple of months out of a fifty-year journey. He said so long as you do not start out too badly, that if two people are of good character, and hold a bit of kindness in their hearts, love will come along naturally—as long as you do not strangle it at birth.”
Darcy stared at his friend, wondering if life could possibly be that simple.
Anne said, “It is not that simple, Fitzwilliam. Charles and I have already had a couple of vicious rows—”
Darcy looked at his amiable friend in complete surprise, but Anne continued.
“—but we made up, and we have quite decided that we will just be in love.”
Darcy asked, “Is it that simple?”
“No, it is not. As our uncle said, it is a lengthy process that plays out over years. Charles and I are in the first few weeks, when it has yet to be really tested.”
Darcy nodded a few times.
“My uncle said he has seen everything from couples who could barely stand each other to couples that could not bear to sleep a night apart after forty years. Unfortunately, there are more of the former than the latter.”
“Do you think that applies in my situation?”
Both Bingleys thought a few minutes, and then Charles answered for them.
“It is hard to say, Darcy. Anne and I are so different that we fit together like two adjacent puzzle pieces. You and Miss Elizabeth…”
Darcy finished the thought for him, saying emphatically, “Are not that.”
Bingley said, “Perhaps you can still salvage it. You have to try.”
He sighed. “I will, but… after I return from France.”
Bingley said, “Do not wait too long. Sometimes the ship sails without you.”