Chapter 20
Fitzwilliam Darcy sighed in contentment as he set down his empty port glass on the empty dinner table.
“I am afraid I will need to leave a week earlier than usual this year,” said Darcy’s uncle, Judge Darcy.
The older gentleman had arrived for his annual visit to Pemberley today after six weeks of overseeing his assizes circuit.
He usually stayed for about a month then either retired to Brighton or Bath or spent October visiting other friends in the country.
“That is unexpected,” said Darcy. “Is there anything amiss?”
Judge Darcy scoffed. “Hardly. I have decided to get married. Well, at least I’ve decided to propose marriage. Whether that results in me actually being in the married state will depend entirely upon the young lady.”
It was a good thing Darcy was no longer holding his glass, or he might have dropped it in shock. “I was certain you were a confirmed old bachelor.”
Darcy’s uncle chuckled. “I believed it myself.”
“Then what changed?” asked Darcy.
“I suppose it is the one thing that can change any man’s mind on that subject,” said Judge Darcy wistfully. “I met the right woman.”
Darcy narrowed his eyes. “You have been on circuit for the last six weeks. When could you possibly have met someone?”
“This is a lady I met last spring.”
“And you are only now deciding to propose?”
“I thought about it before she left London, but I had not come to any conclusion when her mother died and she went into mourning. I’ve just been biding my time ever since.”
“Her mother died? Are you referring to one of the Misses Bennet?” As he asked the question, his stomach clenched, and he prayed to God above that Uncle Darcy was not referring to Elizabeth.
“I am, indeed,” said Judge Darcy, completely unaware of the turmoil within Darcy. “Miss Mary Bennet.”
Darcy released the breath he was holding.
“That is surprising to say the least,” he said.
Darcy’s uncle was one of the most gregarious men Darcy knew, while Miss Mary was quite the opposite.
She was not particularly sociably successful.
At every ball, she danced less than half the dances, and it was always unclear whether she enjoyed herself at all.
Judge Darcy shrugged. “She is my opposite in every observable way, yet that is precisely the appeal. I spend my life and my career surrounded by people. Miss Mary, on the other hand, prefers books. I came to realize that it might be nice to spend my time at home with a quiet companion who allows me to talk about things other than hunting, cards, and politics. Do you know, she actually listened to me talk about an interesting case that was brought before me and responded intelligently, asking questions as though she was truly curious about it? That is a rare quality in a lady.”
“Are you sure she wasn’t just pretending interest just to catch your attention?” asked Darcy, though he felt sick just thinking it. Elizabeth and her sisters were far too artless to stoop to such tricks. At least, he had assumed that was the case.
Surprisingly Judge Darcy shrugged. “Does it matter? The point is that she understood what I was saying enough to ask for more information and to respond intelligently. What difference does it make if the interest was feigned? I genuinely don’t care what we talk about, even if she does not like the law in the least. The point is that, unlike every other lady I’ve met in London, she is relaxing to be around.
At my time of life, that is an extremely valuable quality. ”
“So, you are not in love with her?” asked Darcy.
Uncle Darcy laughed out loud. “What does love have to do with it?” he asked when he could speak again.
“Look, Fitzwilliam, I am more than fifty years old. I’ve fallen in love my fair share of times, but not once has the experience given me joy.
It is a fickle mistress, relentlessly bending me to its will one week and nowhere to be found the next.
No, I am looking for a companion, someone to keep me company in my old age.
Someone steady, calm, and sensible. That is Miss Mary Bennet. ”
“She is young,” said Darcy. “If she marries you without love, she is giving up ever having the opportunity to find it. Is that fair, do you think?”
“That is not my concern,” said Uncle Darcy.
“That is for her to decide. I will be honest with her about my motives, and it will be up to her to either accept my proposal or to reject it. That is the way of it. I am too old to be mooning about, but I am also too selfish to not at least attempt to acquire what I wish.”
With such a subject being bandied about, Darcy could hardly avoid memories of his own disastrous proposal.
He had avoided and delayed proposing to Miss Elizabeth for a month after the point where he knew he was in love with her, but just like his uncle, he could not resist at least attempting to gain what he desired.
His attempt had not only fallen flat, but it had rebounded upon him painfully. He was certain Miss Elizabeth had been too harsh in her words and her judgment, but that did not make all her accusations untrue.
At least a hundred times since that painful, torturous day, the scene had played and replayed out in his mind.
He was long since familiar with every detail.
While Elizabeth had been wrong in her assumption that Darcy was responsible for Bingley leaving Miss Bennet alone, she had been wrong about nothing else.
It was the height of arrogance and completely lacking in feeling for him to have begun his proposal by telling her of what had long prevented him from asking for her hand.
He had meant it as a compliment to her that her manifold attractions had overcome his resistance, but it had come out as insulting and disrespectful.
While Darcy could regret the method of his proposal, he had not yet learned to regret the reasons for his resistance. Her family was lower than his, and her fortune was barely sufficient to overcome that. Her sister, Miss Mary, had barely a civil word to say to anyone, and she rarely smiled.
Darcy knew nothing about Elizabeth’s youngest sister who was not yet out, but if she was anything like Miss Mary, the two of them together could cause him some discomfort by being seen with them in public.
And all of that said nothing about the idea of being connected to her uncles, a country solicitor and a London tradesman.
No, perhaps Darcy had had a lucky escape when Miss Elizabeth had pushed him away so forcefully.
At least, that’s what he had thought. Now, his own uncle was declaring that he would be seeking marriage with that very same sister that he had looked down on so severely.
“Don’t you think…” Darcy struggled to find the words to convey his concern diplomatically. “Well, I’m not certain Miss Mary Bennet would be entirely comfortable in the society you usually inhabit.”
“I admit I had my doubts on that very subject,” said Uncle Darcy.
“However, I learned that Miss Mary is not particularly fond of society. She would far rather focus on her books and studies. So, she won’t want to go out with me very often.
Besides, I have long since learned that the ladies who are comfortable in society are often particularly uncomfortable in solitude, which is the exact opposite of what I want.
No, Fitzwilliam, you will not talk me out of this.
The only one who can dissuade me is Miss Mary, herself, and I very much doubt she will wish to. ”
“You are so certain she will agree?”
“You do not know her as I do,” said Darcy’s uncle. “She is imminently sensible, allowing practicality and reason to win the day. What possible reason could convince her that I am not the best possible offer she will ever receive?”
Something about the arrogance of his uncle’s declaration made Darcy cringe.
Again, his thoughts went back to his own proposal to Elizabeth.
He realized for the first time that he had exuded that same arrogant confidence in his final request for her hand.
While he had not said the same words as his uncle, he had felt the same way.
It was only at this point that Elizabeth’s anger had truly rushed forth, and now Darcy could understand why.
While Darcy could understand his uncle’s confidence in his own status, what woman would wish to be proposed to with the impression that if she doesn’t accept she is not good enough to ever have another offer even half as good as this one?
Even if true, it would be painfully insulting, and in the case of the Bennet sisters, it wasn’t even true.
There were plenty of gentlemen in London who could and would offer status or wealth beyond what he and his uncle could offer to the ladies in exchange for their outlandish dowries.
Darcy knew for a fact that one of his acquaintances, the son of a duke, had fallen head over heels in love with Miss Bennet and would have proposed had Mrs. Bennet not precipitously died, taking all the sisters out of London and into mourning.
Darcy said nothing of his thoughts, however. His uncle, while usually genial, was not one to take correction easily. He simply said, “I see. Well, I wish you luck, Uncle.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I don’t think I shall need it, but it’s good to hear all the same.
Would you like to accompany me when I go to Hertfordshire?
If I recall, you seemed to get along rather well with Miss Elizabeth.
Besides, it would be helpful to me to not have to go alone.
After all, this is the time of year I usually spend lounging about the country with friends.
If I’m to give it up this year to go wife hunting, I would at least like to have some company while I do it. ”
Suddenly, the desire to see Miss Elizabeth awoke in his breast, but it was immediately suppressed by shame.
This short conversation with his uncle had opened his eyes even more to how badly he had behaved when last in her company.
She, too, had said things that were incorrect and even painful.
Did he really wish to place himself in the position of attempting to apologize while risking once again the possibility that she would still hate the very sight of him?
“I don’t know,” said Darcy. “We still have a few weeks. Let me think on it.”
Uncle Darcy shrugged his shoulders. “As you will,” he said.