Chapter 14 Ultimatums
“Darcy, Bingley, come in gentlemen, come in.”
Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley stepped into Darcy’s uncle’s library and gave their greetings.
“Uncle.”
“My lord, thank you for having me.”
The Earl chuckled, which shortly turned into a hacking cough, but eventually rallied. “I am your uncle now, Mr Bingley. How about if you call me Uncle or Uncle Hugh in private.”
“It would be my privilege, sir. I would like it very much if you called me Bingley.”
“Of course! You are stepping in at a most opportune time, son. It will be my pleasure. I suspect you and I will see a lot of each other over the next year, yes?”
Bingley blinked in surprise, and the Earl continued.
“Come, come, young man. Let us not be awkward. You are stepping into a snake pit of my family’s making, and I will be there to help you in any way I can.
Just to be clear, I will not direct you or even advise you per se.
I will simply be available to discuss anything where I might help, man to man.
If nothing else, I may remember how some debacle came about or have connexions that can aid you.
In the best case, mayhap I can save you from repeating some of my stupider mistakes. ”
Darcy chuckled, and Bingley said, “I would very much appreciate it, Uncle.”
The Earl nodded. “So, Bingley—how do you find my sister? Has she driven you insane yet?”
“I take it you are not acquainted with my sisters?”
“Cannot say that I am.”
“Let us just say that I barely noticed a difference adding Lady Catherine to the mix.”
The Earl threw his head back and laughed. It brought on another coughing fit but was well worth the price.
He took a small sip of brandy, which may or may not have had a few drops of laudanum. “I had an amusing experience today.”
“How so?” Darcy asked.
“I was going out to visit Harcourt. You know him Darcy, and I will introduce you, Bingley. He is worth knowing, as long as you know which half of what he says is utter nonsense, and which half is the wisest of proclamations.”
“I shall look forward to it and keep a coin handy.”
“As I was going to my carriage, some young woman came out of the park, walking at speed directly toward me and staring me in the eyes as if she meant to accost me right there in front of my own home.”
Both men gave gasps of surprise, but they were more for form than anything else, since any gentleman of means was occasionally accosted by some sort of rabble.
“What did she have to say?” Darcy asked.
“No idea! She was just coming within hailing distance, and I could see her opening her mouth to say something, when her father caught up. He grabbed her about the waist, gave her a setdown that would make a drunken sailor blush, and dragged her back into the shrubbery.”
All three men chuckled, as there were not all that many amusing anecdotes in their lives that week.
Bingley asked curiously. “What did this woman look like?”
“She was dressed as a lady, but not first circles. She had a very particular shade of brunette hair, quite lovely and somewhat distinctive. Not very tall, and otherwise unremarkable. She was wearing a muslin walking dress that had seen better days, and a man’s overcoat. It was most peculiar.”
“Interesting. Well, I suppose we shall never know.”
“I suppose not. I was tempted to follow the pair just to find out, but by the time I got my wits about me and sent a footman to investigate, they were gone.”
A knock on the door announced the butler bringing in a tea service, and the men spent the next quarter hour having tea and talking sport and politics.
After some time, the Earl said, “Darcy, tell me about this woman of yours.”
“She is not mine, Uncle.”
“She soon will be, like it or not. What do you know?”
“In looks, I could borrow the description of your assailant in the park. Not very tall, light of figure, hair as you described. She seems unremarkable at first but became prettier after I knew her a while. She knew more about literature than any woman I ever met and could argue philosophy or theology like a Cambridge man. She seemed to be flirting with me constantly, or I assume so since she was usually teasing and prodding about something. She would occasionally hew to an opinion not her own. I kind of liked her before this debacle.”
“Maybe you can like her again.”
“If I could trust her, I suppose I could try, but how can I trust someone after they have taken all my power of choice in the world? How can I trust someone after so thoroughly misjudging them the first time?”
Matlock chuckled. “Son, it is not as if you were setting the world on fire with your rush to marriage. She may have done you a favour, driving you to something you would otherwise put off until it is too late. You will not live forever my boy, and it would be better for Pemberley to go to your son than Georgiana’s second son or a distant cousin. ”
“Yes, but how do I start? I marry her in a fortnight on the twenty-third and leave for my ship within the hour.”
All three men stared at the ground, and finally, Bingley said, “Perhaps I could intercede on your behalf while you were gone.”
“Yes of course, that would work! She is already going to be put out by you supposedly abandoning her sister and getting married weeks later to another woman.”
“Yes, I can see where that might be a problem. Not exactly the ideal emissary. I would make it worse instead of better?”
“Seems likely.”
They thought for a moment. “How about if you write her while you are away?”
Darcy thought a bit. “On the one hand, I am better at writing than talking, but—”
Both his companions stared, waiting patiently for him to finish.
Finally, he said, “—but, we have the issue of trust. I will not know if I can trust her until she proves it, or until I can talk to her face to face and tell if she is lying or not. We could both make the most fantastical castles on paper but then come face to face and watch them all crumble and blow away in the wind. It seems pointless.”
Bingley said, “Perhaps you need a sign of some kind.”
Darcy looked at him critically, and at length said, “Explain.”
“You hold an entirely negative view of the lady, aside from the fact that you thought you liked her at one time. I can neither confirm nor deny your opinion, since I could just as well have been the sacrificial lamb. Is there something that could happen before you leave that could entice you to take a chance on writing—on giving her the benefit of the doubt?”
Darcy thought about it for some time. “Well—”
He thought some more, and finally said, “—if her family shows something even vaguely approaching proper decorum on the wedding day, then I may try. If they are abominable—”
Bingley said, “Say no more. I would have a tough time believing either of the eldest two could be anything like their mother but considering how much the youngest two follow her lead, it may just be that the eldest have learned to be more subtle.
You may need to wean her off their influence for a few months and try to start over from scratch. “
“How do I do that?”
“No idea, old sport. Perhaps limit her correspondence without actually limiting it?”
Darcy thought. “If I make her pay her own postage, then she can consider how badly she wants to write back and forth. It is less draconian than cutting her off entirely but should limit the quantity.”
Matlock asked, “How can postage bother her? Were you so stingy with her pin money that a few pence will matter?”
Darcy looked only slightly chagrined. “I was not overly generous.”
Matlock thought his nephew was being inordinately stupid but saw little profit in trying to talk sense to him.
He resolved that he would visit Mrs Darcy while his nephew was away and try to set things right, but there was no point in telling Darcy.
He would object that his uncle was being officious, which was entirely true, but beside the point.
In compromise, he said, “It is not the best idea I ever heard, or even in the top ten, but not the worst either. I honestly do not see how you can do anything except keep her out of trouble until you bring Richard back.”
“That was my conclusion. But I will not give up entirely. Her family may surprise me! How hard can it be to maintain decorum for one day, especially given the roaring success of their endeavours?”
“Miss Bennet, what is the meaning of this,” Mr Bennet nearly shouted at his recalcitrant daughter.
Elizabeth had no idea whether he meant the letter sitting open on his desk, or her presence in the room where she had been delivered, no doubt at some expense, by Mr Baker.
“As to the letter, it seems self-explanatory. I intended it as my last communication, at least until after my majority, so it was as comprehensive as I could make it. I have nothing to add. If you mean my continued refusal to let you and Mr Darcy dictate the rest of my life, the explanation is that I am no more enamoured with the idea than I was a week ago.”
Still with his ire up, Bennet said, “Sit down, daughter. This cannot go on. I will have your word that you will give up these childish notions of yours and do what is right.”
“Right for whom?”
“Right for your family. Right for Mr Darcy. Right for yourself if you would quit being so blasted stubborn.”
Elizabeth squeezed her fists together until she thought her palms might bleed. “No sir. I have one last hope.”
“Which is?” her father asked with a sneer.
“Which is, sir—” she said, then took a deep breath and exhaled carefully.
“—you cannot make me take the vows. Women in England have almost no power in anything, but we have one choice in our lives. We can decline to be married, and neither the church nor the law will force the issue. No vows—no marriage.”
Bennet had been torn between anger and amusement, but the amusement flew right out the window, and he slammed his fist down on the desk.
“You are being ridiculous. Perhaps as you say, I cannot force you, but I do have means of persuasion.”