Chapter 17 The Wheel Turns #2
Elizabeth just stared at him in shock. “So, your new bride is supposed to just go to your estate, alone, to wait half a year for your return.”
“Yes.”
His headache was preventing him from realising how rude he was being, and his anger at being entrapped made him unwilling to think on it overly much.
Elizabeth seethed. “And what exactly am I to do for this half-year? Become mistress of your estate? Establish myself in the neighbourhood? Entertain our neighbours? Visit the tenants?”
Darcy heard the stridency in her voice and just pictured it escalating a little each year until she sounded like her mother. At the time, he was incapable of appreciating that she was starting from a vastly different place and would go in a different direction if he just treated her well.
He was also at that moment incapable of realising just how rude he himself was acting, nor making the calculation that if he continued his present path, he would become the worst version of her father after some years.
Neither party was reflective enough to understand that history repeats itself, or at least rhymes, and they were not getting a very good start.
Darcy had spent the six weeks of their acquaintance mostly avoiding her and what had, until the compromise, been a growing infatuation with her charms. Dreams aside, in the end, he really did not know her all that well, having exchanged no more than a few dozen minutes of conversation in company.
He had not the slightest idea if she would evolve to be more like her mother, or more like—well, he did not actually know any of her other family, so could not say.
The aunt who stood up with her seemed fashionable, polite, and elegant, as did the eldest Miss Bennet; but otherwise, he knew next to nothing.
In his current state of mind, he just assumed the worst and planned accordingly.
For her part, the lady had never actually liked the man, even a little.
She spent the same amount of time in his company as he had in hers, obviously, but she had looked at every interaction with her own prejudice, so she had learned even less than he had.
She made no real effort to disguise who she was, aside from refraining from telling any of the Netherfield party what she thought of them, while he worked diligently to hide his growing attraction.
In the end, both were mostly captive to a series of thoughts and impressions driven by a single moment in time.
For Elizabeth, it was the moment he deemed her not handsome enough to tempt him, while for him, it was the moment of vulnerability when the Bennets swooped in for the kill.
Neither would be able to articulate those thoughts, though.
Darcy looked at her carefully. “No, you will not. My family’s reputation is extremely important, built up laboriously over many generations, and in fact, it has material consequences that I cannot explain at this moment.
That is why we find ourselves in this situation.
You will go to Pemberley, but you are not to entertain or call on my neighbours.
I prefer to manage those introductions myself. ”
It never occurred to him to explain that his reasoning was that some of his neighbours were not necessarily friendly, and a few were actively hostile. The fact that he edicted it, should be enough!
“The tenants have been adequately looked after by my steward and housekeeper for well over a decade, and they may continue the task until I return.”
Elizabeth stopped herself just short of gasping, or crying, but seethed in frustration. “Are there any other restrictions?”
Not seeing just how angry she was, or more likely not caring, he said, “You may redecorate your chambers, so long as the changes are reasonable.”
“And who is to be the arbiter of reasonableness?”
“Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper, has overseen the house for many years. She knows what bounds decorations are to be kept in.”
In a menacingly silent whisper, she said, “You may as well finish. What other conditions are to be laid on me during this Purgatory?”
She noticed they had been talking longer than she thought, as they were just entering Hatfield, and she presumed, going to the inn she had previously visited.
“You may walk or ride anywhere you like as long as you are accompanied, but do not use the carriage more than twice a week. You are to venture no farther than Lambton or Kympton. You may do whatever you ordinarily do. You may read anything in the library except the black shelves on the north wall.”
“Pray, what is on the north wall that I am supposed to be protected from?”
He had no idea how close he was to losing an eyeball. “They are the most valuable tomes, extremely old and collected over many generations. They require special handling.”
Elizabeth felt like she was entering some circle of Hell. “What more? I am certain you are leaving something out?”
“The running of the household is up to the butler and housekeeper. If you wish any changes in its management, you may discuss it and make suggestions, but they will have the final decisions. Both have known me since I was four years old, and they know how to keep things the Darcy way. I have no idea what kind of training or education you have, so we will discuss any other changes, or necessary improvements to your education, when I return.”
He did not mention that his observations of her mother were not likely to ensure confidence in her abilities but saying it was unnecessary as the implication was not the least bit subtle.
“Are you quite finished,” she snapped with barely restrained fury?
Thinking he may as well get it all out on the table, Darcy said, “You may buy clothing, jewellery, and the like as you see fit, or you may hire masters to improve your accomplishments. You have your pin money to take care of both. I also expect you to pay any postage from your pin money, so you may wish to consider how much correspondence to engage in.”
By that point, Elizabeth was digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands, and she noticed that, as expected, they were starting to shake.
Hating to sound greedy, but at least wanting to know what was expected, she said, “All right, that seems fair. How hard could it be? Pray tell, how much is this store of pin money?”
Without batting an eye, Darcy said, “forty pounds.”
Finding that unhelpful, Elizabeth asked, “forty pounds… per?”
“Per annum.”
At that point, Elizabeth thought it might be time to just give up. “Am I expected to look like Mrs Darcy or Miss Bennet, on that. You realise that is ten pounds less than my current pin money, and my father buys my clothes.”
“That was correct yesterday. Today, I provide your pin money, and you buy your own clothes. As to looking like Mrs Darcy, I am not overly concerned. The way you dress now is adequate for this interim period.”
“I see. Did you pattern that amount after what your sister spends?”
Darcy at least looked abashed at that, but did not answer, so Elizabeth answered for him.
“I see. I suspect hers is much more, even though she is not even out, but let me be clear on one thing. Forty pounds is perfectly enough for me, so long as I do not have to pay for my own food. I am not like your other female friends and feel no need to impress with my clothing, nor does my natural taste run to the vulgar or expensive. With that amount, I will look no more nor less elegant than I did as the daughter of an insignificant country squire. I will not be unhappy with that situation, but is that really the image you wish to project for the mighty Darcy family?”
“Until I return, I doubt you will be seen by enough people to matter. When I return, I will work out how things are to be arranged. At that time, I will decide how you are to comport yourself, and I will decide how to introduce you to society with the least damage.”
Elizabeth seethed but tried to keep a lid on her temper.
“All right! We shall play it your way, but you should quit pretending that you care about the Darcy’s reputation.
Sending a new wife to Pemberley, without her husband, and without even a wedding night will send a message nobody can mistake.
You know perfectly well your servants will spread that fact and all the supposition that naturally goes with it around like wildfire.
You may as well hang a sign on my neck reading, ‘unwanted wife.’”
Growing angrier and angrier, he snapped, “You should have thought about that before you compromised me!”
Elizabeth, whose patience was stretched to the limit shouted loud enough to most certainly be heard by the coachman and footmen.
“Compromised you? COMPROMISED you?”
Just barely getting her fury under control, she seethed menacingly.
“Let us have this out once and for all! I did not compromise you! I will freely admit that my mother did, but I had no part in it. I remind you of the sequence. You asked me to dance, and I reluctantly accepted. You pulled me over to the corner where my mother performed her evil, and I reluctantly went along. You grabbed my arm hard enough when she started screeching to leave a bruise that took over a week to heal. You returned to Hertfordshire of your own volition to ask my father for my hand, without even bothering to ask my opinion. You refused to listen when I tried to explain it. I can assure you, sir, that I had no part in this debacle, and did all I could to escape it.”
Darcy, losing his temper to match hers, and feeling that not only was his life being ruined by an unwanted marriage, but his honour was being called into question by a woman he would never be able to escape, for the second time, shouted back.