17. Darcy House, London—Saturday, 23 December 1809 #3
“Well, Aunt, every time you have forced an introduction or a dance on me, the young lady has spent the entire time praising me and pretending to share every one of my opinions, never once offering an opinion of her own. Each time, when I attempt to picture being with such a lady for decades—well! No matter a young lady’s noble father, her raven hair, or her fifty thousand pounds, if she creates ennui in me after a quarter hour, think how absolutely blue-devilled I would be after even one year, let alone fifty. ”
The countess made a little grimace that so matched one Richard had pulled a few minutes ago that Darcy almost wished to laugh.
But then she said something that caused all mirth to die.
She murmured, “Darcy, Darcy, Darcy. You must know that marriage is for property and power. Affection and sparkling conversation is what mistresses provide, and you will not suffer from ennui from a mistress because you can choose a new one whenever you wish.”
Darcy stood. “I am so pleased to learn that Uncle’s dissipated lifestyle is exactly what you always wished for. I had imagined you hurt by his flaunting a continuous stream of…friends…everywhere a debauched man might go in Town. But how wonderful to finally know it is the fondest wish of you both.”
He shook off Richard’s placating hand and kept his eyes fixed firmly on his aunt’s shocked stare as she stood.
He said in a softer voice, “I wish for something completely different. I wish to be at my beautiful estate in the country, in love with my wife, raising children who I hope look and behave just like her, and only occasionally entertaining others or going out for entertainment. I wish for cosy evenings with our books and discussions, and morning walks in Pemberley’s forests and along Pemberley’s lake and streams, and afternoon jaunts to the beauties of the Peak. ”
His aunt, still stunned, said nothing, and Darcy continued, “Aunt, I had meant to ask if Elizabeth might come to dinner tomorrow night, but from your expression, I imagine that she would not be welcome. Would you like Georgiana and I to stay away, as well? I can see that you and I do not share fundamental attitudes about family, so perhaps….”
Darcy could see his aunt come out of her shocked silence at his words.
She finally broke their eye contact, and her face paled except for two red flags high on her cheeks.
She began to pace as she raised her voice: “Fitzwilliam Andrew Theodore Darcy, do not lecture me about fundamental attitudes about family. You are the one who has been acting in direct opposition to society’s standards, not I.
” She whirled about to stare into his eyes again, asking, “How dare you be so direct with me about my husband. A debauched man? Flaunting a continuous stream of ladies? These are not the words of a gentleman. You know that discretion is the key to maintaining stability.”
“Excuse me, Aunt. You were very direct with me. You scolded me for my choice of a bride, and you specifically and directly told me that what I wished for in my lifelong partner and wife is what I should, instead, look for in a mistress. It strongly suggested to me that you wish me to take a diamond of the first water—chosen by you, I assume—as my wife and make Elizabeth my mistress. But the Church of England says, in the wedding ceremony, that I am to love my wife and that I am to forsake all others. So, who is the one acting in opposition to standards?”
Richard was standing by now, as well, and he stepped between his cousin and his mother.
“I appreciate the Shakespearean feel of this drama, I really do, but we are family, it is almost Christmas, and I should like to maintain a relationship with both of you, if possible. Please, Darce, Mother, please work as hard to heal this breach as you worked to create it.”
Darcy stood as straight as he ever did, and he kept his eyes firmly on his aunt’s, but he deliberately softened his voice. “I am sorry if my words hurt you, Aunt.”
She kept the steel in her own tone. “Apparently you lashed out at me because you felt that I had attacked you; therefore I am sorry, as well. I did not mean to make you feel attacked. As for tomorrow's dinner, I would love it if you would bring your…Miss Bennet. I apparently do need to meet her. Please ensure she is dressed appropriately for dinner at an earl’s house.”
“I note,” Richard said, “that the heavens have not fallen. It may be safe to hope that you will continue to know one another and speak—perhaps even speak with civility—with one another.”
“Perhaps,” Darcy said. “I am not positive my aunt’s last remark could be termed civility, but hope springs eternal that such might be achieved someday.”
Richard frowned and laughed, a mix of responses that seemed to Darcy entirely appropriate to the conversation.
Aunt Matlock closed her eyes briefly, opened them again, and wished Darcy a good night as she swiftly removed herself from the room.
Darcy soon followed, nursing his outrage rather than his wounds, for he found that he had none.
Darcy had simply never respected his uncle and aunt well enough to truly care whether they approved or disapproved of him.
Tomorrow’s dinner could be quite fraught, if Elizabeth agreed to go. Once Darcy was home, he put pen to paper and told Elizabeth everything that had occurred at Matlock and presented her with the question: did she wish to go into the lion’s den on Christmas Day?