Beginning, Section IV

Chapter 18

Posted on February 5, 2010

Darcy sought him in his study, and being granted a private audience, Darcy bowed, shook hands, cleared his throat several times, and then took a seat, fidgeting for some time while Mr. Bennet sat quietly. Unwilling to wait any longer, he finally asked, "Mr. Darcy, am I correct in supposing that you are here to ask permission to court my daughter, Elizabeth?" 'I sincerely hope that they have not become engaged so quickly. I would have to forbid anything so precipitous.'

Darcy's mouth fell open at this. "Y...yes, sir. How...Sir, I have made a mess of our relationship to now, but I hope to prove that I have changed, and to gain her affection. I owe your entire family-"

At this, Mr. Bennet interrupted. "I expect that you are about to give me a long apology about your interference in the matter of my eldest and your friend, and about your own uncritical adherence to Society's strictures about social standing and wealth."

"Yes, sir. I have been a fool, and caused your daughters a good deal of pain by my behavior. I-"

"I am sorry to interrupt you again, as your apology is unnecessary. I was aware of your misgivings about associating yourself with a family of modest means and unimportant connections, and from a remark Jane made to me after her stay at Netherfield, I realized that you were innocently misled by her, and the Bingley sisters, to believe that my wife was the sister of Mrs. Philips, and that her brother was an insignificant tradesman living in Cheapside."

"That was on my mind. But whatever your means or connections, that I placed such considerations above my personal knowledge of the worth-"

"I wish to stop you there. While I know that this troubles you greatly, I was aware of your struggles, and so was my wife," - this brought a look of mortification to Darcy's face - "and neither of us were offended. You are a young man, and this is the sort of mistake a young man makes-" at Darcy's opening his mouth to take issue with this, Mr. Bennet raised his hand, and said, "Whatever your internal struggles or shortcomings, you were unfailingly polite to us. And while I agree with your condemnation of those attitudes and feelings, I do not share your condemnation of yourself. My wife had similar feelings when we first met" - this clearly surprised Darcy - "and it was quite to be expected that she, and you, would, given your families and how common these views are. Your failing was not that you had high standards, but that you conflated the very different matters of 'high standing' and 'worthy'. I would not want you to become less fastidious, nor would Lizzy, just better able to recognize people of worth to you when you meet them...and perhaps a little more willing to unbend in public. Polite conversation does not obligate you to like or approve of someone. Heaven knows that William Lucas' bloviations about St. James are tiresome, but he is a good-hearted fellow." This last caused Darcy to blush furiously, and stare at the floor.

"Mr. Darcy, my wife and I like you very much, and I apologize for embarrassing you, but I do not wish for you to make yourself unhappy or become uncomfortable in our presence because of a minor shortcoming. I am happy to agree to your courtship of Elizabeth, although I would probably accept anyone of her choice less egregious than Lieutenant Wickham," he laughed. "I can just imagine Lizzy taking you to task about this, and you must see that it is not all bad. For almost everyone, it takes some unpleasantness to motivate them to risk being open and honest while courting, and you have this over with at the start. I am well-pleased that your friend and my eldest have manage some candor, as well," he mused. Darcy was greatly relieved by what he had heard, and while he still felt that he had gotten off too lightly, he was clever enough to realize that Elizabeth's father had no interest in witnessing self-flagellation, and was rather humbled to realize that Mr. Bennet understood him better than he did himself. He was expecting to be dismissed by Mr. Bennet, who glanced briefly at a notebook containing an elaborate calculation that he had been working on when Darcy had entered, but the older man sighed, leaned back, and said, "Before I let you go, I must, in good conscience, discuss something with you." This statement clearly alarmed, the younger man, so he continued, "It is nothing to be excited about, Mr. Darcy, I just wish to make sure that certain things are clear."

After a brief pause, he continued, "I know that given your ardor, you no doubt think that Elizabeth is a 'unique and precious jewel,' or something of the sort. But even dispensing with artistic license, she is not like elegant young ladies of the Ton; none of my girls are, and really, none of the women in my extended family are. But even among my four daughters, Lizzy is different. All my children are quite clever, and Tom has gotten very high honors-"

At this Darcy interjected, "Miss Elizabeth mentioned to me that he had been Sent Up for Good."

"That is correct, and he is one of only a few boys who has ever been so honored more than ten times while still in the Fifth form. But as intelligent and driven as even Tom is, Lizzy is more so."

"I am very aware of her gifts, and I greatly admire her for them, Mr. Bennet."

"Yes, I know you do, but I just want to make sure that you understand that these gifts should not, will not be used in aid of maintaining a position in Society. On the morning after the last ball at Netherfield, Lizzy and I spent two hours discussing celestial mechanics, not dissecting the floral arrangements and who danced with whom. All of my children feel the deepest of obligations to our dependents, but Lizzy's expression of that obligation does not take the form of family visits, but in long-term planning for the prosperity of our properties. To be frank, if you feel that the only proper role of a wife is to keep your house, manage your calendar, preside over your table, and entertain your guests, you would be an entirely unsuitable husband for Elizabeth. Although, if I were being less frank, I would probably have said that she was unsuitable as a wife for someone with those views," he concluded, softening his remarks with a gentle smile.

Darcy was taken aback. He realized that Elizabeth's father was entirely correct. He had abandoned some of his views of what was proper, but not all of them. He had unconsciously supposed that, if he could win her heart, he would be blessed by having Elizabeth fill the same role in his life that his mother had in his father's, or that his Aunt Susan filled for her husband. He was preparing to berate himself, again, when it occurred to him, 'I keep thinking that life revolves around me. I paid lip-service to my unworthiness, but I find that I do believe that she is my superior, and the idea that I would be content to spend my days arranging flowers, choosing a menu, gossiping...He does not show me this to hurt me, but to protect Elizabeth. And he does not want an apology...' The delay was perceptible, but not lengthy, and Mr. Bennet waited quietly, observing the young man, and hoping that the discussion could remain rational.

"You are right to bring this up, sir. I had not considered it - I will admit to my shame that if I allowed myself to think of Miss Elizabeth accepting me, I imagined her doing a good deal of what you describe. However, I was aware that your daughter is my superior in intellect, and am appalled, on an instant's reflection, at the prospect of such a mind and spirit being wasted on these routine matters." After a pause, he continued, "Is she reading the recent treatise by Gauss?" And at her father's assent, he continued, "I have made an effort with it, but have found it very slow going."

"It is dense, but a very impressive work. Lizzy has finished a first reading, and is now applying some of the techniques to practical problems, to get a deeper understanding. For instance, she has used it to estimate the accuracy of surveys taken from multiple measurements. And lest you think that she is only a 'student,' in the past three years she has been of significant assistance to me in my work - my current understanding of heat engines is largely due to her insights, and her help with my experiments has been invaluable. If she were a man, I have no doubt that Cambridge would offer her my old position."

In spite of himself, Darcy was dumbfounded. 'She turned 19 only in November, and in addition to her peerless musical accomplishments, knowledge of modern languages, and verbal prowess, she reads Latin comfortably, has mathematical skill and knowledge that would shame a Senior Wrangler, and even allowing for a father's pride...' "That sounds fascinating. I hope that I can persuade her to explain some of it to me - she will no doubt have to be patient..."

"I do not always follow her the first time. She is quite patient, and would enjoy having someone else around who shares her interests." After a short pause, he continued, "Am I correct in supposing that you understand the relationship between my family and that of Edward Gardiner?"

"Yes, sir. I did not for a long time, but your nephew, Lord Malden, is an old friend, and he related, at least some of, the salient points to me when we met just before Christmas. I was confused as to the identity of your wife's family before that time, as well...You may be wondering...Miss Elizabeth asked about it...My cousin Andrew does not- I believe that he is unaware of your family connections and wealth; I did not relate what I had learned from Malden, because I was embarrassed."

"I am glad you know, because it will help you understand the following. While I have not been grooming Lizzy for such a position, I think it quite possible that she will someday assume my role in Gardiner Enterprises. It is certainly more likely than that she would ever take over my wife's role in any household, and except for Tom, no one else in the family is remotely likely to take my place. There would obviously be many difficulties for a woman in such a position - and, surely, other difficulties which have not occurred to me - but it would be...tragic, really, if one of them was a lack of support and encouragement from her husband." He waited for a time to let this sink in, and then continued, "I have said all of this not because I think that you are some shallow fop who would recoil at the idea of an unfashionable wife. But I am certain that Elizabeth can only be happy in what would be a quite unconventional marriage, and as you are serious about her, you must think carefully about whether you can be happy in one." At that point, he gently dismissed the younger man, and went back to his interrupted work.

Darcy returned to the drawing room where he found Elizabeth speaking quietly to Mrs. Bennet, in what appeared to be a private discussion, and Adele and Jane Bennet playing a duet while Julia sang and Andrew and Bingley listened intently. When he seated himself to listen, Andrew leaned over and whispered, "Miss Catherine and Georgiana will be staying with the Lucas family until tea, and then be escorted home. Mrs. Bennet assured me that this was perfectly all right, and I agreed with the plan on your behalf." Darcy nodded his assent with a smile, and returned his attention to the performance, while reflecting on his conversation with Mr. Bennet.

When Elizabeth had returned to the drawing room after giving Darcy leave to speak to her father, she had found that the others - except Kitty and Miss Darcy - had returned, and the younger people were gathered at one end near the piano, while her mother sat on the sofa at the other end of the room, embroidering some handkerchiefs as a gift for her husband. Elizabeth took advantage of their relative isolation to speak quietly with her mother. "Mama," she almost whispered, "Mr. Darcy has asked to court me, and I have given my permission." She then went on to give a concise summary of their conversation, and concluded, by asking somewhat nervously, "What will Papa say? Do you think that he will be shocked?"

"Your father misses very little, Lizzy, and he has already noted Darcy's admiration for you," which elicited a surprised, and embarrassed look from her daughter.

"Then you do not think that his change of heart is because he now knows of your connections, Mother?"

"No, I do not. Lizzy. Mr. Darcy has no need of our connections. His relations on his mother's side have similar standing to the Landsdownes, and it is obvious that he cares very little for that sort of thing. And he clearly cared for you before. I could also see that he was struggling with his feelings for you, and I admit to having a good deal of sympathy for the young man, as I engaged in the corresponding struggles when I met your father." At Elizabeth's look of surprise, she said, "Oh, yes, it is true. I cannot imagine worrying about such things any longer, and they were absurd, but that I did worry was not at all surprising, coming from my background - which is the same as Mr. Darcy's - so you must not suppose his confession is the sign of anything more than uncritical acceptance of foolish notions. The fact that he denounced the ideas means that he will be able to rid himself of them fairly easily."

After a pause, she looked intently at Elizabeth and asked, "What are your feelings for him, dear? You did not accede to his request casually, did you?"

"I do not completely understand my feelings. I have been fighting my attraction to him from our second or third meeting, with limited success, because I felt that it would only make me unhappy. I was convinced that he was a snob, and while part of me wanted to explain to him that our family was wealthy and connected, so that he could like me, the rest of me wanted to avoid getting attached to such a man. Now that I believe he has changed, I know that I could...do care for him, but I am too unsettled to know how much. Do you think that I should have refused him, or waited longer?"

"Agreeing to be courted only implies that you might accept him, and have no other attachment, and I believe that it is proper for a young lady who discloses competing interests, but even this much is often not done. If you wish for him to court you, then your agreement was proper."

Elizabeth blushed, and replied softly, "I do wish it, Mama."

"Then you have done the right thing. May I have your permission to speak to Thomas about what you have told me?" At Elizabeth's look of concern, she continued, "Your father will not deny his request, as you wish the courtship. I just want Thomas to understand what passed between you that led up to this." Her mother paused, and then continued, "My dear, you know that your abilities and interests are not common for young ladies - in fact, I have never heard of another young woman that knows a tenth as much you do about mathematics. A few years ago I expressed grave concerns to your father about 'directing' your education as he had done." At Elizabeth's puzzled, but slightly alarmed look, she continued, "I was wrong. Thomas explained to me that it was your interest that drove you, not his, and that you would be happier living a scholarly life than a fashionable one. He also explained that your abilities...your potential, was as great at his. I am not competent to judge this, dear, but I do know that your father's insights, his ideas are helping to change the world, and if you have this same gift, it would be a sin to not use it - to waste it." Sitting silently for a time, she continued with a smile, "You know that Sophie and your Aunt Margaret regularly worry about your...masculine interests."

Her mother continued, "I worry too, not because I want to change you, but because I take great joy in motherhood, and I want that for you. You must be certain that any man who seeks your hand understands that you have a...a gift, and he must cherish that gift, and support your use of it, if he is truly to cherish you. Jane, Julia, and Kitty will happily run their homes and see to their tenants, and their guests - not all in the same way, or with the same emphasis, but they will make the usual sort of wives, as I have done, and Sophie, and Madeline. But for you, it will be different. I do not wish to discourage you, sweetheart, but I think that it would be better for you, if you were never to marry, than to try to live the life of one of your sisters." At this, Elizabeth's face fell, her eyes filled with tears, and her chin dropped to her breast, as her mother grasped both her hands in hers. "I hope that Mr. Darcy is a man who will understand all this, and wants you enough to be happy in a different kind of marriage - perhaps he is a man who would be happier in one, as well. But you must take even more care in your choice of a husband than your sisters, as...you could not be happy with the life I lead. There are men, at least some men - your father is one - who look only to themselves for what is 'proper,' and such a man could be the right one for you. Perhaps Mr. Darcy is such a man, now that he has had his eyes opened to the shallowness of 'what is expected.'"

Elizabeth was silent for some time, and then after drying her eyes and composing herself, asked her mother about Julia, and they speculated idly on the prospects of a match between Miss Bradford and Lord Ashbourne. At that point Darcy returned, and to Elizabeth's questioning look, responded with a small nod and smile, before moving closer to the music.

The afternoon passed very pleasantly, and Darcy's sister and Kitty Bennet were returned home shortly before tea, by Sir William. He declined to stay, saying that he was needed at home to greet guests, but before leaving he invited all present to dinner in two days time to celebrate his daughter's engagement - Mr. Bennet was silently thankfully that the fiancé would be absent. Bingley accepted immediately, and mindful of his previous behavior, Darcy also accepted, thanking Sir William and congratulating him on his daughter's engagement, using more than twice the total number of words that he had previously spoken to the older man. His cousins' acceptances followed, and Sir Lucas was aglow with pride at the honor of such rank at his table.

Darcy's cordial behavior pleasantly surprised some of those present, and it was his turn to be surprised when - after a whispered consultation between Georgiana, Kitty, and Mrs. Bennet - his sister applied to be allowed to stay with her new friend. Once assured that it was the desire of the Bennets, rather than an imposition, he was happy to agree. He was delighted to see Elizabeth make an effort to become acquainted with his sister, and to put her at ease. Feeling secure about his sister improved his manner still further, and he was easier in company with the Bennets that afternoon than his cousins had ever seen him outside his most intimate circle. Within a few days it had been, somehow, decided that Georgiana and Kitty would stay together at Longbourn at least until Jane's wedding, and Mrs. Bennet took charge of Georgiana's education during that time, allowing Mrs. Annesley - Miss Darcy's companion - an extended leave. She went to stay with her youngest daughter, who was coming to the end of a difficult pregnancy. As Darcy's sister could certainly not find a more experienced, cultivated, or successful guide for her transition into womanhood, Darcy was thrilled to accept the offer, although in point of fact he was not given any choice in the matter. Mrs. Annesley never returned, as her daughter's confinement was as difficult as would be expected from the pregnancy, and by the time mother and son were in full health, it was clear that Georgiana no longer required her services. Mrs. Annesley finally accepted her son-in-law's longstanding invitation to live with them, and she stayed there for the remainder of her life, living long enough to see all of her grandchildren married, and to be several times a great-grandmother.

Just before tea arrived, Darcy was speaking with Mr. Bennet, and Elizabeth approached the pair. "Mr. Dar- William, I wanted to mention to you that you need not worry about your sister running into George Wickham," Elizabeth said. At Darcy's look of alarm, she continued, "That you might be concerned was just a conclusion on my part, but in the course of my conversation with him at my Aunt Philips' house, I felt that he was something much worse than a ne'er-do-well who saw his failures as the fault of others. He seemed to bear a particular resentment toward you, and toward your sister, and also he seemed surprisingly confident in his ability to beguile young ladies, in spite of his almost laughable incompetence as a liar. I spoke to my father about him the next day, encouraging him to warn our neighbors, as some of them might be credulous enough to believe him. I am embarrassed to admit that I found him pleasant until he began his tale of woe."

"Elizabeth, you continue to astonish me. Many people, including my own father, have been taken in by George Wickham, and even though you had good reason to resent me, which should have made his story all the more appealing to you, you saw through him immediately." He then, very quietly, related a precis of his family's association with the scoundrel, which made the young lady quite angry by the time he had finished.

"I only hope that he gets what he deserves, and soon. My Aunt Philips, who is very fond of 'news,' wrote to us before Christmas that Wickham had taken his custom to Bishop's Stortford" - this was the nearest large market town to Meryton - "as apparently none of the local merchants would advance him further credit."

At this point, Mr. Bennet, added, "By the time I went to Hatfield there were already rumors that the Lieutenant was under some pressure with regard to debts of honor, and it has been confirmed that he had run up very large bills there."

"That sounds very like him. Perhaps I could buy up his debts and-"

"That will not be necessary. My brother Philips represents some of the Stortford merchants, and he encouraged his clients to have a writ issued before the young 'snake' could slither away. By the New Year, we had learned that Wickham had been taken into custody. And I must say that this all started because Lizzy was perceptive enough to realize that the young man could not be trusted - I visited my brother, and we went together to some of the merchants, based on her assessment," he said, with a proud smile.

When Darcy again expressed his admiration for her acute judgment, she began to blush, so he changed the subject. "How much money is involved?"

"By the time he was arrested, the merchant accounts in that town totaled over £300, and there were other debts that came to light - by the New Year he owed nearly a thousand pounds. Apparently he felt that the town was large enough that he could get away with acquiring an entirely new wardrobe of the finest quality...there are seven boot-makers there, and he owed at least £20 to each of them."

"I am sorry for the people he defrauded, but it appears that he will not be an impediment to your comfort while here," said Elizabeth, which brought a very warm smile to his face.

"George was always a peacock. But he would never have run up such bills so quickly if he had not planned on running away. He must have found the discipline of military life quite distasteful."

"It seems that he was not preparing to bolt, although he did not distinguish himself in his company in any positive way. He was attempting to make a splash in aid of his courtship of a local young lady of some means, and he was on the verge of success, until my brother Philips and I spoke to her father."

"That was very fortunate for her. Is there any further word since the New Year?"

"Yes, he was in a sponging house in Stortford until very recently, when he was moved to the local jail, and there is very little chance that he will avoid prison. His known debts are now over £400, and there are debts of honor in excess of £1000, and now some accusations of fraud against him by merchants in London have surfaced. Wickham attempted to claim an engagement to his young lady, a Miss King, whose fortune would set him free, and her uncle - who is her guardian - has engaged my brother to file an action of slander against the Lieutenant. She was not of age, so there could not have been an engagement, but I suppose that Mr. Wickham was desperate enough to hope to extort some money from the family. It will be a miracle if he gets off with a few months in The Fleet. My brother, who is quite experienced in these matters - he was the head of chambers for a very large London firm before he and his partner sold it - expects that Wickham is in a great deal of trouble. Philips wrote to me yesterday, from Stortford, and it occurred to me that you might...I have it here," he said removing a letter from his pocket. "It says: Wickham is a very foolish young man - he is in a deep hole, and he continues to dig furiously. From the start, no one connected with the matter believed a word he said, but almost every time he opened his mouth he provided a clue to the name of another victim, or in the matter of Miss King, caused another charge to be filed against him. If I were representing him,and I am very thankful that I am not, I would attempt to arrange for immediate transportation to Australia, before my client managed to get his head in a noose. So, I think that we have seen the last of him. There was something else in here, about you, which you might find interesting: He tried to blame Mr. Darcy, the young man that was visiting Netherfield last fall, for his woes, although he has also accused Mr. King, Colonel Forster, and probably Bonaparte. At least he seems to have stopped defaming young women, perhaps because one of his stories was interrupted by a most unfortunate accident, which cost him several teeth and a badly broken nose - apparently he slipped and, repeatedly struck his face on the bars and floor. He recanted on the matter of Miss King after that, so I have encouraged her uncle to drop the matter, at least for now. I suppose that it cannot be pleasant to see a childhood companion come to such a pass, but he seems to be a rather stupid fellow."

While Mr. Bennet was extracting the letter, Andrew had joined the group, and the viscount now commented, "My uncle always did have a most distressing blind spot about that waster."

"His father was an excellent man, so I am glad that neither he nor my father ever saw what he was becoming. I regret seeing him like this, but I was forced to wash my hands of him a few years back, and it appears that he has, if anything gone from bad to worse," said Darcy.

At this, Mr. Bennet replied, "Let us speak of something more interesting. My brother Gardiner has gotten the charter and the rights-of-way to build a railroad from Manchester to Liverpool. He hopes to begin building it in early March." And at this, the discussion turned to matters of construction and commerce, continuing until their group broke up. Andrew was very surprised to realize that 'brother Gardiner' was the Edward Gardiner, and as surprised that Darcy was not - 'He has a good deal of explaining to do when we leave.' Lord Ashbourne was also quite interested to see that Miss Elizabeth participated fully in the discussion, and was very well informed. 'She is just what Darcy needs. It is hard to believe that she can know so much about engineering, and be as accomplished as Julia says...' One consequence of this discussion (and, naturally, their association with the family) was that, not many months afterward, Darcy and Andrew were given the chance to invest in the new venture, which they eagerly accepted, and it proved to be the most profitable conversation either of them ever had.

The visitors remained to supper, and afterward the party was treated to a piano duet by Elizabeth and Julia, and then some arias by Elizabeth, with her sister Jane at the piano, concluding with Der Holle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen from Die Zauberflote. Elizabeth's residual anger toward Darcy, as well as her frustration on behalf of her sisters and Charlotte Lucas, fueled her performance, and she left her audience silent, and her guests stunned. They returned to Netherfield shortly thereafter, and in the Darcy carriage, Adele spoke to her brother, "Miss Elizabeth is the equal of any dramatic coloratura soprano I have ever heard. I would have been surprised to meet one person of comparable accomplishment in music to Julia, but all of the Bennet ladies appear to be very proficient, and Elizabeth's singing is sublime."

Darcy interjected, "Miss Elizabeth's performance at the pianoforte is the equal of her singing. You should ask her to play the Waldstein Sonata for you. And she is, if anything, more proficient in mathematics."

"Bingley, there seems to be a good deal that we have not heard from my cousin about the Bennet family," said Andrew, dryly. "Perhaps you could fill us in?" This caused Darcy to flush visibly, but he knew that it was hopeless, as Bingley was eager to speak of his beloved's relations, and so between the two of them, the Fitzwilliams soon learned how wealthy and well-connected Miss Bradford's new family was, and later that night, Lord Ashbourne pried loose the remaining details of his cousin's history with the family. His only comment, at the end, was, "You have the devil's own luck, Cousin. If she were not a young lady in a million, she had have sent you away with a flea in your ear. But I think that you will suit one another very well, so I imagine that in time you can win her, provided you exert yourself to relax. Just think of how Aunt Catherine would act in any situation, and do the opposite."

Speaking with her husband of Darcy's application that night, Sarah said, "Lizzy foresaw his desire to confess all, and sought to discourage it, but I know very well from my own experience that the temptation to expiate by confession in such a case is nearly overwhelming. Perhaps I could let him confess to me, as I would likely have more patience...although you were very kind to me at the time."

"Yes, dearest, and if Darcy were even a tenth as beautiful as you, I would be willing to listen to him for hours, too. My motivation in your case was entirely different, and your apology was very short."

"That was because you kissed me, darling, and I could no longer speak - nor did I wish to at that point." And so he rose and stopped their conversation again in the same manner, and they communicated thus for a few minutes, interrupting it long enough to prepare for bed, before resuming the matter until it was concluded to their mutual satisfaction, after which they drifted off to sleep.

Darcy took his cousin's advice to heart, and was attentive enough to Elizabeth over the next few days, including at Sir William's dinner table, that it would have caused a good deal of gossip, except that Lord Ashbourne's attentions to Miss Bradford were more marked, and more warmly received. Elizabeth was almost as well pleased by Darcy, but her lively nature was as big an obstacle to the understanding of outsiders as her elder sister's reserved one had been. Not only had Darcy stopped 'going hot and cold'; he was being pleasant to everyone - even Sir William - and he had taken the trouble to discover for himself that Charlotte Lucas was an excellent young lady, and that Bertram Goulding, while a bit uncouth, had a wealth of knowledge on the breeding of horses and sheep.

At one point during the evening, while Darcy was listening to his host's enthusiastic recollections about his presentation at St. James - the younger man being kind enough to agree that they might compare their experiences - Thomas Bennet approached Andrew Fitzwilliam, who happened to be alone at that moment, and remarked, "The course of true love never did run smooth."

Lord Ashbourne laughed, and replied, "It is doing him a great deal of good. My cousin is really a gentle soul; perhaps too retiring and studious for his role in life, but he was not afflicted with arrogance until Aunt Anne, his mother, died a few months after Georgiana was born. Uncle George was so grief-stricken that my parents offered to take our cousins for a time, and he agreed, and then Aunt Catherine kicked up such a fuss that William was sent to stay with her when not at school, and so it remained for most of a year. She filled his head with a good deal of nonsense, until Cousin Anne got scarlet fever, and William was, of course, sent to us. My brother and I pounded some of the nonsense out of him at that time, but when he was suddenly Master of Pemberley at 20, I believe that the idea that we were intrinsically superior comforted him, and those notions took hold again. If one of us could have been with him through that time...but Richard and I were in the Army and Father was taking care of Matlock and Ashbourne, and he was a supporter of the Duke of Portland-"

"That was a critical time for your father to be involved in politics. I might as well blame myself for not coming to Mr. Darcy's aid, as any of you. I do not see that it has done him any lasting harm. I believe all young men have some foolish notions, although I took more pleasure in mine than he is likely to have done with his."

"Perhaps I yet have some of mine, but the ones that I know of almost got me killed, so I do not despise his selection." After a short pause, he continued, "I hope you will not think me impertinent, but I believe that William would make a good match for Miss Elizabeth. He told me the first night that he was not your daughter's equal in intellect, and while I then assumed that he was besotted - he is easily the most intelligent member of our family - I have seen enough to understand that, while he is besotted, he was also correct. Ironically, despite his rather stiff manner, he is not all a rigid person. I do not know how well I would fare with a wife so...atypical; it is not just the duties of my position which have caused me to be a 'young ass about town,' but Darcy is both by temperament and station much more able to choose his own way, and much more likely to do so. I imagine that Miss Elizabeth has very little taste for London Society?" to which Thomas quietly indicated his assent, "and I know that William finds the politics, the smalltalk, and the parties, excruciating. I have often thought that if he were a second son, he would be very well-suited to be a professor." After seeing Mr. Bennet's intent look, he continued, "My cousin did mention something about your concerns for your daughter, which is why these thoughts are on the tip of my tongue, but I was convinced that they would do well together before we sat down to supper the first night." His conclusion, "I certainly would not want you to think that my cousin put me up to this," caused Thomas to laugh and shake his head. At this point Mrs. Bennet, Julia, and Lady Lucas joined them with a question about optics - rainbows, really - and Andrew attached himself to Miss Bradford, and remained at her side until supper.

One day, as Darcy and Elizabeth walked into Meryton, in company with, but slightly apart from his sister and Kitty, he said, "Your Cousin Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife."

"Yes, indeed. And from my father's description, I imagine that Mr. Collins' friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. Charlotte has an excellent understanding - though I am not certain that I consider her engaging herself to Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her."

"It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends."

"An easy distance do you call it? It is my understanding that Hunsford is nearly fifty miles from here."

"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance."

"I doubt that Charlotte will consider the distance as one of the advantages of the match," replied Elizabeth. "When she is Mrs. Collins, I do not imagine that she or her family will consider her 'settled nearby.'"

"Is that proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire?" he asked, smiling.

"I believe that you asked me that once before," she smiled, recalling their first pleasant conversation. "I do not mean to suggest that a woman may not be settled too near her family - I believe that my friend will not regret the distance. I just meant that the far and the near must be relative, and depend on the particular circumstances. For instance, where there is sufficient fortune to make the expense of traveling unimportant, such a distance becomes no evil. But I am fairly certain that this is not the case here. I understand that Mr. Collins has a comfortable income, but not such that it will allow of frequent journeys - and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance."

"I see. I should have thought of that," he replied, looking a bit embarrassed.

"I meant no criticism, William. I admit that I rather thought the same, until I heard Charlotte's mother speaking to mine about them not seeing her for some weeks after the wedding. Their family only keeps one carriage, and the team is often needed at the farm. We have several times taken Charlotte to London with us, and never conversely, but I had not thought about why until Lady Lucas' remark. So, you see, it is a natural mistake - or at least it seems so me," she laughed.

"You seem to regret her choice."

"I am reconciled - now. I was very upset by it before Christmas. My father and Benjamin made sport of Mr. Collins, whom I have never met, and after an evening of amusing us with tales of his foolishness, Father gave me a letter from Charlotte telling of her betrothal. I was then still furious about Julia's broken engagement - we all feared that she might retreat again into herself, as she had been when she first came to us - and I felt great anxiety about Jane and Charles. It seemed to me that only fools or fortune-hunters were available as husbands. I am sorry that she could not marry someone she greatly admired...But my father assures me that he will not mistreat my friend."

"My aunt is in many ways a difficult woman, but she would never tolerate that - in fact, she has intervened forcefully in more than one case in the past. And she is far too nosy for anything to happen at the Parsonage without her knowing about it. You might spare your friend some concern about my aunt's interference in her domestic practices - I assure you that Aunt Catherine will have a good deal to say about the breakfast menu -" this made Elizabeth laugh, "but if your friend is ever unhappy, my aunt will get to the bottom of it. And from what your father has said, your cousin will not dare to displease her."

"Thank you, William. That is very reassuring," and her smile and his warm response dispelled the last of her gloom over this topic. Their discussion centered on Kent for the rest of the walk, and she learned enough about his 'engagement' to his cousin to be reassured on that topic, as well.

The visit to Meryton included a short visit to the Philips', where Darcy had a private conversation with Lizzy's uncle, and was told, "Mr. Wickham is bound for Australia, and hard labor when he gets there, if he does. He tried some smooth talk on his fellow inmates, and has lost two more teeth and his left eye swollen shut for his efforts. He seems very slow to learn that his charm has been significantly diminished by the damage to his features, and that it is far less effective with hardened knaves than with naive young ladies." Elizabeth's portion of the visit was less congenial, as her aunt happened to take this opportunity to dither about her niece's 'unladylike interests' - it was her total inability to understand and appreciate Elizabeth, rather than her vulgarity, that was the root of her middle niece's aversion to spending time with her - and, in conjunction with her growing attachment to Darcy, and her mother's words of warning, Lizzy felt distinctly uneasy when they took their leave.

As usual when they walked with the younger girls, they soon fell behind, and William sought to understand, and if possible relieve, his beloved's low spirits. "Elizabeth, will you tell me what is wrong? Did something happen at your aunt's home to disturb you?"

"It appears that everyone finds it necessary to point out how unsuitable I am for marriage..."

"What do you mean? I can think of no one more- Who would say such a thing to you?"

"My mother, for one, and my aunt supports that view."

"I am sorry, but I cannot imagine your mother saying any such thing to you. You must have misapprehended her point."

"No, she made it clear that she thought I was very unsuited to the role she fills so ably."

"I would agree with her that it is not a role that you should fill, Elizabeth, but I vehemently deny that this makes you in any way unsuited to be a wife. And I am confident that she did not mean that you could not do what she does, only that it would not suit you. And why should it? Unlike you, I would be utterly incompetent in your mother's place," - the vision of Darcy embroidering or pouring out to visiting ladies elicited a choked laugh from Lizzy - "but I have never found in necessary to try. My housekeepers in London and Derbyshire do an excellent job of seeing to my homes, and the comfort of my guests, so why should I spend my time checking the linens or instructing the cook? It is all very well to do such things if one enjoys it, but neither Georgiana nor I do, and yet my Aunt Susan has never had any complaints about her comfort while visiting."

"You do not think that Society would disdain a wife who failed to attend to her duties?"

"I know several Society wives who barely conceal the flouting of their wedding vows, and they are not disdained. If such moral lapses can be excused, why should they take any notice of a lady's domestic practices? I cannot speak for Society, but I can assure you that I see nothing wrong in it."

Unable to look up, Elizabeth asked in a low, tight voice, "And would you be so understanding of your own wife?"

"My only requirement of her, if I am fortunate enough to marry, is mutual love and respect. I very much hope that she will take as much pleasure in my company as I d-...would in hers, but we will neither of us be there to do the bidding of the other...If I may be permitted some candor, your father mentioned this matter to me on the day that we returned-" and seeing her response, "Ah, so your mother was discussing this with you when I returned from your father's study?"

"Yes. I suppose Father was expecting your request."

"He was, although I believe that he was relieved that I did not come to ask permission to marry you that day. He relaxed a bit when I reached the word 'court.'" This made Elizabeth chuckle.

"So he tried to warn you off me?"

"I do not believe that was his goal, but no matter - it did not change my intentions in the slightest. I have to say that I had not really thought about what our respective roles would be, in the happy event that you decide in my favor," this caused Elizabeth to stare at the ground again, and blush deeply, "but I had no trouble realizing that if I would be bored senseless spending my days as Lady Matlock does, someone of your interests, and formidable intellect, would be even less pleased. I do like the company of close friends and family, but I would be delighted to never give another dinner party for a large group of acquaintances, and I hope never to attend another ball as a single man."

"But Charles is giving an engagement ball in a month's time," she said, looking up in surprise.

"Yes, he is," replied Darcy in a deliberate tone, staring intently at Elizabeth. She blushed again, even more deeply, but this time she did not look down, and instead held his gaze. Then, smiling gently, she replied, "I begin to think that I might be of some assistance to you..." His cheerful laughter attracted his sister's attention, and she and Kitty hurried back, demanding to know what was 'so funny'. This forced a change of topic, and they returned to Longbourn as a group, foreclosing any further discussion of the topic.

Chapter 19

Posted on February 8, 2010

Shortly before the Hursts left Essex to return to London, the letter from Charles to his sister and her husband - he was still too angry to write to Caroline - caught up with them at Donaldson Park. Mr. Hurst waited until he was alone with his wife to give her the news. "Your brother writes, and for once it is not torture to make it out. He is engaged to the lovely Miss Bennet - happened just before Christmas. She will do very well for him, my dear, and I hope for once that you will not side with your sister about this."

"No, Percy, not now, and not again. I have been thinking about it since before I watched Caroline badger Charles - I always liked Jane, and her sisters, and she is an excellent match for Charles. I suppose that he could have found someone with more money, but no one that could make him as happy, and Jane's family is very respectable." At this her husband smiled broadly, but did not interrupt. "I doubt that I can control Caroline - she has always been the most willful creature, but I will support Charles and Jane against her, and I will apologize to both of them for not doing it before - I must make amends to Mrs. Bennet, as well; she was always very gracious to us, and I did not take a strong enough stand against Caroline at the end." After a gloomy pause, she continued with a smile, "I am sure that Jane will make a wonderful aunt," and her husband gave her stomach a warmly affectionate pat.

"Louisa, my love, there seems to be a good deal about the Bennets that was missed in Hertfordshire." His wife looked up from her midsection rather quickly, concern written on her features. "No, dear, it is nothing bad. I have to confess to you that I recognized Mrs. Bennet- Yes, my love, your sister was right that there was something familiar about her: she is the Marchioness of Salisbury's elder sister..." This shocked his wife into silence for some time, and then she began to laugh and cry at the same time. Once he had calmed her, and explained why he kept his own counsel in the matter - which she immediately understood and accepted - he continued, "Charles writes a good deal about the family that I did not know. First, it appears that your sister-to-be has a substantial fortune, quite a bit more than the £5000 that your sister ranted on about. Also, Charles wrote to us from Hatfield House, where he spent Christmas," a revelation that caused her to laugh again, although not hysterically this time.

"Caroline is such a fool - she would have crowed about having Christmas there for months, even more than had she realized her goal of spending the time at Matlock House. And she could have done it by not lying. Yes, Percy, she lied about Miss Bennet. Something she said this morning caused me to question her, and she admitted that Jane Bennet had sent her several letters which she burned, and then she told Charles that Jane had never written."

Her husband shook his head at this piece of news. "Charles also writes that Mrs. Bennet is the stepmother to the Bennet girls, but Lady Salisbury claims them as her nieces. Also, Miss Bennet's uncle in trade in Cheapside is the industrialist Mr. Edward Gardiner..." At this, his wife looked very stricken, and blushed furiously. "Sweetheart," he said softly, "I get the feeling that the Bennets do not care about Society 'games' - I liked them very well, on the rare occasion that I got a chance to talk to them without your sister around, and if you give them an honest apology, and are as good to Miss Bennet as you have been to my family this holiday, they will not hold it against you for long. Although Darcy might hold a grudge. He was quite taken with Miss Elizabeth, and when he heard from the two of you that she was the daughter of 'a nobody,' he started impersonating a tobacconist's Wooden Indian around her. I doubt that your sister did herself much good with him over that..." and he chuckled over this for quite some time, even while consoling his wife.

"I shall have to tell Caroline-", she began, after reading her brother's unusually lengthy missive for herself.

"Wait until we get back to London, dear. I do not want her bad temper inflicted on my family, and I will not be cooped up in a carriage with her until after she gotten over her initial fit. The day after we get home, I shall go to my club first thing, and you can tell her at breakfast. That will give her the entire day to stomp around throwing things, and wailing at the top of her lungs." Pausing, he continued, "Both of you have to understand something. While I have put up with her to now, she must change her ways. You need a restful home, and I will not allow her to get you alienated from Society - if she cannot behave herself from now on, she cannot stay with us," he concluded firmly, and she nodded her assent.

And so, at the same time that Darcy and Elizabeth were discussing Kent, Caroline Bingley swept into the breakfast room at her brother-in-law's Grosvenor Street house, the morning after their return to Town. "Good morning, Louisa. It is so nice to be back in London! Today I will go to visit dear Georgiana, and take Mr. Darcy some of those wonderful preserves that we brought back. They must be back from Derbyshire by now. Do you suppose that Charles is ready to be sensible and behave himself? I think that leaving him alone in town over the holiday was just what he deserved-"

"Caroline, I must speak to you-"

"No, Louisa! Charles will not be forgiven until he forgets that insignificant chit-"

"Caroline! That insignificant chit is to be our sister, and she is also the niece of Lady Salisbury." And then, before her sister could react, she continued, "Charles wrote to Percy and me from Hatfield House, and we finally got the letter five days ago. We were very wrong-"

"But why would Jane Bennet lie to us? She told us-"

"She did not lie to us. Mrs. Bennet, who is Lady Salisbury's older sister, is her stepmother."

"Then Jane Bennet is a nobody!" Caroline crowed. After a short pause, Caroline whined, "And why is Mrs. Bennet not called Lady Sarah?"

"If Sarah Landsdownes felt that being the wife of Mr. Bennet was a greater honor than being Lady Sarah, then surely Jane Bennet is not a nobody. Further, Lady Salisbury claims Jane as her niece, as does Mrs. Bennet's brother, the Earl of Shelbourne. And the Duke of Cumberland calls Jane 'niece,' as well, and introduces her around as such." Her sister's amazed look was rather quickly replaced with one that Louisa recognized as argumentative, so she sought to head it off. "His Grace was at Hatfield over Christmas, and Mrs. Bennet is his favorite niece, and that favoritism extends to all of the Bennets. Also, Mr. Bennet is the cousin of the Earl of Essex, and Jane's dowry is very large. Charles would not say what it was, but he did say that it was much larger than his fortune..." This finally deflated her sister, who sat down with a thump.

After two or three minutes of hand-wringing and general agitation, Miss Bingley suddenly sat bolt upright, and exclaimed "Mr. Darcy!"

"Yes, he will not be pleased to have been so misled by us about the Bennet family. It will be a humiliation for him, and you know very well that he was drawn to Elizabeth Bennet." Her sister's eyes flashed, and she was about to speak, when Louisa interjected, "Caroline! You know very well that you were jealous of Elizabeth because Mr. Darcy showed her a preference, and he stopped as soon as we told him that her mother the daughter of a country solicitor."

"But she is!"

"No, dear, their mother was Frances Gardiner, whose father was Judge Gardiner, who retired with a life Baronetcy. And she was the younger sister to Edward Gardiner." At this last sister finally broke, and began to wail - about having alienated Lady Salisbury, about Darcy, and about the unfairness of being below Eliza Bennet. As Caroline continued her lamentations, Louisa finally understood that her sister had lied to Jane Bennet - and not just about her - and when she comprehended the nature and scope of the lies, she was appalled, and felt a bit like crying herself, 'I wonder if even someone as sweet-tempered as Jane can forgive that. I hope she and Charles will believe me when I tell them I knew nothing about it...but I should have known.'

"Caroline, there is something else that I need to tell you. I am going to have a baby-" Louisa found her sister's scowl quite offensive, "and Percy insists that things be quieter...calmer around here than they have been." The eye-rolling that began with mention of her husband eroded what was left of her patience with her younger sister, and in the altercation that followed, Miss Bingley burned her last bridge. Three days later, she was packed off to York, to their iron-willed, widowed aunt, who was the only relation available to take the disagreeable young woman. Charles had stated in his letter to the Hursts that he required a sincere, detailed apology to Jane Bennet and her entire family before Caroline would be welcomed in his homes, and she flatly refused to consider owning up to her lies, or apologizing to 'that intolerable Eliza Bennet.' Miss Bingley only went to live with Agnes Burroughs because she was reluctant to use her own fortune to procure an establishment, but her insolence and bad temper continued to serve her ill, and within six months she was forced to support herself. Since her income was only £800 a year, she moved to Newcastle, to avoid having relations and 'friends' witness her humiliation. She responded so bitterly to her brother and sister when they offered her a chance at reconciliation, that within two years, all contact was lost, and when she died, alone and friendless, fourteen years later, it was several months before her relations heard about it, and it occasioned nothing other than a momentary sadness, as their lives had gone on much more pleasantly in her absence.

Chapter 20

Charlotte's wedding was a quiet affair, and at her request, her family refrained from mentioning the Darcy and Fitzwilliam visitors. As her betrothed stayed with his new family, and arrived only two days before the ceremony, she was able to manage him well enough that only a single tea at Longbourn was required. Elizabeth insisted on being present, for her friend's sake - all of the other girls were 'required' at Netherfield - and she asked her father to take William on a long ride, to spare them both. The parson was as pompous and foolish as advertised, and in his delight - and his cups, although he showed no overt signs of intoxication - behaved with even less propriety than in his previous visit. Even before the party from Lucas Lodge had left, Elizabeth excused herself to retreat to her room, and on his return, Sarah expressed her outrage to her husband: "That greasy toad actually thought that I would let one of my girls marry someone like him! I wish you had been here to witness it! 'If the timing of your trip last month had not been so ill, it might have been your lovely daughter in my dear Charlotte's position,' all the while leering at Lizzy!" This was followed with several inarticulate expressions of rage, and then, "I would take a club to that man if he came near any of my babies!" followed by more storming about the room. As a result, she did not hear her husband mutter, "That would have been unnecessary, dearest, as I would have run him through well before that."

Miss Lucas came early the next morning, to apologize. "I am so sorry. My father had taken Mr. Collins and several of the officers to lunch at the Green Bull, and I am afraid that he had had more to drink than was good for him. If it is any consolation, he has quite a severe headache this morning, and has sworn off strong drink." Her apologies were so earnest and heartfelt that Sarah found herself forced to forgive her younger friend, and agree to consider that Elizabeth might come to visit her in Hunsford in the spring. Elizabeth, having been spared the worst of Mr. Collins behavior - he had subjected her mother to his most indecorous remarks - was apologized to separately, and agreed, reluctantly, to the visit, subject to her parent's approval. The wedding was held as early as possible with only immediate family in attendance, so the Bennets were spared any further visits by Mr. Collin, although he did send around a rather tedious note of apology to his 'cousin' Thomas, once his headache subsided. By noon of the 20th of January, Charlotte was Mrs. Collins, and well-started on her way to Kent.

The courtships of the three couples proceeded quietly, or at least as quietly as was possible with the people involved. Fortunately, public attention was drawn away from Elizabeth and William by the publicly engaged couple on the one hand, and by the rank and elegance of the Fitzwilliams (and the notoriety Miss Bradford's tragedy), on the other. Shortly after Charlotte was wed, Jane and Charles had settled on a wedding date of the 20th of April. Charles' solicitor had, by this time, obtained a special license and forwarded it with the marriage settlement papers. All that remained were preparations for the ceremony itself, and shopping for a trousseau. The former were easily handled by the very competent Longbourn staff, with eager assistance from Netherfield (whose staff were delighted with the choice of their master), under the supervision of Mrs. Bennet. As to the shopping, Jane continued to delay the trip, because, as she told her mother, "Things are going so well between Julia and Andrew, and I am concerned that being in London might bring up bad memories, and cause her to pull back from him. Even the most confident and stalwart of young men need some encouragement." This caused her mother to laugh, silently, and when she told her husband about it, he laughed aloud. "She has learned a useful lesson, but I doubt that anything will deter that young man. He waited barely a week before formalizing his attentions to Julia, and I believe that he is in no humor to wait to propose. Also, the news from Weston Hall is that the current duke will almost surely die within the next month. Andrew will want to secure her hand before the disruption caused by that, and so that they can wed soon after mourning is over." In that he proved correct, and the proposal was given, and accepted just one week after Mr. Collins left the county.

Miss Bradford had come, with her sister Jane, to spend the day with Lady Philadelphia. At her brother's request, Adele contrived to leave Julia and him alone at some point in the morning, and he wasted very little time coming to the point. "Miss Bradford...Julia, you do know that I love you with all my heart, do you not?"

"I do, Andrew, but..."

"No," he said quietly, firmly, "I wish nothing more than to marry you. I should have asked you years ago, before my final 'jaunt' to Spain, but I did not wish you tied to me, in case I...failed to return intact."

"I would not have minded."

"In that case, you must accept me now. I have all of my parts, and they still work tolerably well...except for my mouth, apparently." By this point he was half kneeling, half sitting, holding her hands, their faces at a level.

Julia laughed, "I do love you, too, but-" and when he began to protest, she silenced him by placing her elegant hand against his mouth, "but will your family accept me? Will your position be damaged by marrying a nobody...a match girl?" This last was almost a whisper.

"Oh, my love, my family will reject me if I fail to secure your hand. And as for the shallow fools who rejected you after your family died, once we are married, they will suddenly clamor for your favor - not that I care a whit about their regard. You will be a countess, and even if you were not the most charming, elegant, beautiful, and accomplished of women, the Ton would accept you - Lady Treffethen is vulgar, boorish, and insipid, and her father was a shopkeeper, and no doors are closed to her. You are every inch what a countess should be... but you are also the dearest person in the world to me, and I have no desire to go through life without you. If you will not marry me for myself, do it to make Adele happy." Gazing at her intently, he continued, "Your parents do not disapprove, do they? I thought that I was-"

"No, darling, they are very pleased with you. It is just my foolish fears..."

"They are not foolish. That you were so abused is beyond my understanding, but you must not fear it happening again. Neither your family nor mine would ever abandon you. And if it is any consolation, we will have rank and wealth enough that this can never happen to you again. Please say 'Yes.'"

And then she did, over and over again, kissing him, and crying, until their tender feelings ran away with them. Adele returned before they 'disgraced themselves,' although Lord Ashbourne would not have felt it a disgrace, and Miss Bradford was more sophisticated and unembarrassed about her passionate nature than one might suppose, given how tentative she had been about the engagement. As Adele was not as naive about such matters as she (perhaps) should have been, she had given them adequate time to put themselves to rights before entering the room and expressing her delight at their news.

The engagement was expected, and very welcome by all of the family. After getting the Bennets' heartfelt approval, Andrew sent an express to his mother informing her - "She would have done me a serious injury, if I had left without securing Julia" - and Jane and Julia decided to share their wedding day. Observing her sisters' happiness made Elizabeth quite wistful, and she came to the realization that she had completely forgiven William, 'There has not been a trace of his old arrogance these last three weeks, and he has been very charming and genial, and as attentive to me as his cousin is to Julia...'. One consequence of the second engagement was that Jane and Julia decided to shop for their trousseaus together, and proposed leaving for London early the following week. This resulted in Bingley hurrying to town on Thursday afternoon, so that his Curzon Street house would be open and ready for inspection by its future Mistress.

Once he determined that Elizabeth would be going with her sisters, Darcy offered to escort the ladies to Town. The final plan was that all of the ladies of Longbourn - including Adele, who had gone to stay there the day Julia was officially to become her sister - would go to London, and Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, and Georgiana would return to Hertfordshire at most a week later - after the wedding gowns and other critical items of apparel had been chosen. The only disappointment was that Andrew was not coming with them: the latest report from Staffordshire was that his great-uncle Henry was declining, and so Lord Ashbourne paid his respects at Longbourn that Friday afternoon, planning to leave at first light for Weston-under-Lizard. Thomas Bennet invited himself to supper with William and Andrew that evening, in part to give his newest son-in-law-to-be a letter for his father, and, in part, to escape the entirely feminine household. "Since Ben left for school, I am completely surrounded, and your sisters' presence, though delightful, leaves me entirely outnumbered. I can generally depend on Lizzy for conversation about mathematics, engineering, or at least philosophy, but lately she is as eager to discuss fabrics and patterns as the rest!"

After supper, they sat around the fire in Bingley's study, talking casually of this and that. Darcy commented, "Bingley's brandy is excellent; a vast improvement over the varnish remover he served when I was here in the fall. I wonder where he gets it."

Thomas answered, "My brother Philips gave him a case when he became engaged. I do not know how he gets it, but I suspect that it is smuggled in from France. He has a wide acquaintance from his days in London; he was the head of chambers for the largest firm in Gray's Inn Square, and widely regarded as the cleverest of barristers. He and Mr. Gardiner sold their interests when Phillips was but 30, and instead of retiring, Phillips became a solicitor and set up a country practice. He and his wife chose Meryton by chance; a property suitable for raising horses was available. My brother has the goodwill of many of his old clients, and one of the best cellars in the county - I do not believe that these two facts are unrelated. He also has connections to the best private inquiry agents in the Kingdom, which my brother Gardiner and I have found very useful on more than one occasion."

The three sat in companionable silence for a while, and eventually Mr. Bennet closed his eyes and was lost in thought. Believing him to be asleep, and warmed by brandy and drowsy from a long walk, William and Andrew began to talk. Having grown up together, closer than most brothers, they were used to speaking openly about anything and everything, and they soon forgot they were not alone. "What will happen to Hopkins, after Uncle Henry dies?" asked Darcy, softly.

"What do you mean?"

"He and the duke are still lovers, are they not?"

"You know about that?"

"He and Prentice" - Darcy's long-time valet - "became friends when His Grace recovered at Pemberley, after the fire. I am not entirely sure what he was told, but Prentice wanted me to understand their relationship - I think perhaps that Hopkins felt awkward about them accepting my hospitality if I was going to be outraged by their relationship. I told Mrs. Reynolds that His Grace had difficulty sleeping, especially since the fire, and said that she must let his man see to all his needs, and asked Prentice to hint that they should be discreet."

"You have the reputation for being quite the prig."

"I know I do, and I suppose I deserve it, insofar as I heartily disapprove of anyone breaking their vows, and certainly with regard to my standards of conduct for myself. But this was none of my business, and while I have occasionally...very well...too often tried to direct my friends and family to greater happiness, Uncle Henry is two generations my elder, and even I knew better than to think that he would appreciate my interference. And what would I tell him, 'You should fall in love with a person of higher rank'?"

"Most of our circle would either tell sniggering tales at their expense, or insist they leave. Aunt Catherine would have been outraged...I can just hear her: 'As your niece, I am entitled to a say in all of your dearest concerns. This behavior will expose our family to disgrace in the eyes of everybody, and it must cease immediately!' And, of course, she would then tell her friends that they were only distantly related, the moment there was any disgrace." This made the cousins laugh for some time, although quietly, as they wished to not wake Mr. Bennet.

"I am not sure how Grandmother tolerated her..." Andrew tailed off.

Darcy replied, "Grandmother has told me that Aunt Catherine initially blamed her for replacing her own mother, but in time she came around, and they were as close as she and my mother at one time. When I was a child, when we visited her and Uncle Lewis, Aunt Catherine was very different. She has never been easy, and I know that she and your mother have never been comfortable with one another, but she was...warmer, then. Mother's and Uncle Lewis' deaths changed her, even before Anne got so ill. I can sympathize, as I had become very...inflexible, after Father's death, with Georgie depending on me. I felt that I could not afford to take any chances." After a pause, he continued, "Aunt Catherine is not the most rational of creatures, and she hears very selectively, but I am still fond of her. Or, at least, of whom she once was."

To the surprise of the younger men, Thomas opened his eyes and asked neutrally, "I take it that neither of you find homosexuality an abominable perversion?"

"No, sir," replied Andrew calmly.

Darcy was clearly less relaxed, but he responded evenly, "Nor I, sir. It may be a perversion - I am not qualified to say - and it may be a mortal sin, although I cannot help doubting it. Of course, I would not comment on the subject at all outside of my most intimate circle. Do you find it either of these?" asked William.

"No, I do not, although I am not confident that I am right. But I have seen, on more than one occasion, homosexual sheep, and I have been told that it occurs in dogs and horses. If it is just an affliction to try some of our fellow mortals, as I have heard claimed, why would it be present in beasts? I have never felt the urges, and the topic has never particularly interested me, but while teaching I had occasion to counsel several students who were struggling with these feelings, and in some cases with the practices. None of the men who sought my advice struck me as being in any way depraved or irreligious - I suppose most or all of them came to me because I was close to their age and not ordained. I doubt that I was much help, as all I advised was to consult their own feelings and judgment, and if, in the end, they decided that the impulses were either proper or irresistible, they should be careful when acting on them, so as not to place themselves in the hands of irresponsible or unscrupulous people." He paused for a moment, and then continued, "I apologize for eavesdropping. I was lost in thought, and when that happens, I hear what people around me are saying, but it makes no conscious impression at the time, but, usually, after I 'emerge from my trance,' I remember and understand what I heard. I would not want either of you to feel that I had deliberately misled you."

Both the younger men immediately assured Mr. Bennet that they would never think that, and then, to cover up the awkward moment, Darcy said, "I asked about Hopkins because he has been with the duke for at least twenty-five years-"

"Twenty-seven," interjected Andrew.

"He has been with the duke for twenty-seven years, and not only will he be bereft at the death of his friend, he will be without employment. I am sure that my Uncle Henry will have made generous provision for Hopkins, but even that will not- I saw them in a few unguarded moments at Pemberley, and they were very fond of one another."

Andrew responded, "When Uncle Henry became ill, he gave me 25,000 to hold for Hopkins. His will leaves him another £10,000, but he felt that this was inadequate, and yet a larger bequest could expose their secret. He said that Hopkins would insist that he did not want the money, and that he had always been very well paid, but that I must get him to take it."

"Does Uncle James know?"

"I believe not. He is certainly perceptive enough to see it, but...well, he has the deficiencies of his virtues, like everyone else."

"And those are?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"He is a family man, through and through. He greatly admires a pretty face and a lovely figure, but I am sure that he has not touched another woman since he met my mother, and I think that he is constitutionally incapable of understanding that there are men that do not wish for a wife and children. He has, for years, said that it was not too late for Uncle Henry to meet a nice woman..."

"And what are your deficiencies, Cousin?" asked Darcy, wryly.

"Much the same as your. Among them, I can always see at least two sides to every issue, which makes me slow to act, at times," replied Andrew.

"Well, we cannot all have the lightning intellect of Elizabeth or her father," laughed his cousin, "but I contend that it is better than being too sure of everything." On this note, Mr. Bennet rose, joking that he would take his 'lightning intellect' home, as it would be very sluggish on the morrow, if he was not asleep shortly. Ashbourne retired, too, as he was leaving quite early, and there were a few odds and ends to deal with. Darcy saw Mr. Bennet out, and thanked him for coming. Thomas replied, "I enjoyed the meal, and the company, very much. I expect you to come early and leave late, now that you are alone here. You are more than welcome to stay with us now, or at any time in the future. I hope you know that, Son." Darcy was delighted by the slip, and thought 'From his mouth to Lizzy's ear...'.

The next afternoon Sarah Bennet found her husband, as expected, deep in thought in his study. She entered, sat, and waited until he noticed her, which happened after less than a minute. "What can I do for you, my dear?"

"Dearest, you said that we should buy the girls, especially Julia and Jane, some jewelry, and I wished to confirm that there were sufficient funds in the accounts."

"There was more than £200,000 in our account at L&L last I checked, but we should have gotten some quarterly payments since then. I trust that this will be enough?"

"I have not heard that St. Edward's Crown or Sceptre are for sale, so I imagine that we can buy the gowns and trinkets without exceeding our balance." After a pause, she asked, "You have been spending a good deal of time with William - he has not changed his mind about Lizzy, has he?"

Thomas laughed, "He will propose to her the instant he thinks that she might accept. The only thing that has changed is that I am now entirely comfortable with the idea of him as her husband. Andrew told me some time back that, despite his stiff manner and exceedingly high personal standards, William was a very flexible and open-minded person. I can confirm that, and say that he is a very compassionate, empathetic young man, as well. She just has to make up her mind."

"She has...no, you are right. She has entirely forgiven him, and actually sees his actions - at least the intense concern for Charles' happiness - as rather endearing. I think that she is still concerned that some part of his repudiation of his earlier snobbery was due to learning of our connections."

"It was, but only in the sense that he is an extraordinarily intelligent young man, and to be so entirely wrong about something important to him - and his attraction to Lizzy nearly consumed him even then - was very unsettling. When he systematically examined his values, he repudiated them on their own merits. He is far too upright to pretend anything, even for Lizzy." Later that afternoon, Sarah drew her daughter aside and related her conversation with Mr. Bennet. Lizzy's confidence in her parents was very great, and upon hearing their opinion of William she felt as if an iron band about her heart had been removed. She cried briefly on her mother's shoulder, and then excused herself for a solitary walk. When she returned her lovely countenance appeared to be lit from within, like that of her two engaged sisters. This change was not unnoticed, and at tea, Thomas mouthed the words 'Not long now' to his wife, and she responded in a like fashion, 'Tonight, tomorrow'.

That afternoon, Mrs. Bennet contrived for Elizabeth and Darcy to be seated together, a bit to the side, when the tea arrived, and they were able to converse privately, as well as they could. It was obvious to everyone in the family that Elizabeth's feelings for Darcy were warmer than ever, and she showed him a preference that far exceeded anything she had previously exhibited. His preference was so marked that Adele expected him to drop to one knee at any moment. He had taken his sister into his confidence before they left London for Hertfordshire, which was a part of why she had exerted herself so much with the Bennets on the first day - by the second day, she had not had to try at all. Georgiana had been delighted to see how well-liked her brother was by the entire family, and was even more pleased when Kitty giggled to her and Adele, "She must be at least falling in love with him - I have never seen her half so attentive to anyone else, nor so inattentive to others. Lizzy, herself, once opined that 'general incivility' was 'the very essence of love.'"

That evening the remaining unengaged couple cast a golden glow over the proceedings. As usual, seating at dinner was informal, and as usual, Darcy had escorted Elizabeth in and sat next to her. To avoid the censure of his wife, there was no separation of the sexes after the meal, and Thomas led the way to the drawing room with Sarah on one arm and Adele on the other. During the entertainment, Elizabeth was prevailed upon to play and sing, and she concluded with Voi che sapete, sung with the most intense feeling, never taking her eyes from Mr. Darcy. Darcy was spellbound throughout the song, and emerged as if from a dream, applauding vigorously, with such a look of such happiness that it almost brought tears to Elizabeth's eyes. In turn, she gave him a look of such warmth that he very nearly took her into his arms. He escorted her to her seat, and asked if he might call on her after church the following day. Blushing, she held his gaze and replied firmly, "I would like that very much, sir."

Sarah spoke with her daughter that night before retiring, and confirmed that Elizabeth had decided to accept William, if he offered. Naturally everyone except Elizabeth knew that he would, and so she was very happy to have her mother's reassurances. Her mother also learned that he had requested to call after service, and that she had assured him of her pleasure at receiving him. Sarah then found her husband in their chambers, and confirmed to him what he had also deduced: Darcy would propose and Elizabeth would accept. "Are you ready to consent, my dear?" she asked.

"No, but I am no less ready than I was for Jane or Julia. Darcy is as good a match as, or perhaps even better than, Charles and Andrew. As you recall, I had his background looked into, and there was nothing that was unexpected or a cause for concern. I will have the usual questions, but I will consent, just as I did for the older girls. He is a fine young man, although none of them is good enough for...my angels," he concluded sadly.

She moved to sit in his lap and put her arms around his neck. "We knew that they would grow up and leave us someday, Thomas. But they will be cherished, and the young men fit in well with our family, and will be accepted. At least Kitty is not yet ready to leave us, and I hope before she does, Tom will be back."

"Tom will not even go to Cambridge for almost a year and a half, and so it will be more than four years before he returns to us. I am not sure that Kitty will wait that long, even for her dear mother." The thought of her baby girl leaving her caused Sarah to begin to cry, and so she turned from giving to receiving comfort, until they retired to provide that 'mutual societie, helpe, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other,' as they had vowed many years before.

Chapter 21

Posted on February 12, 2010

Lizzy had been up since 5 o'clock that morning, wondering nervously when, or even if, Darcy would come. He did show up to accompany the Bennet family to early services, as he had every Sunday since returning to Hertfordshire, this time arriving at their door at the earliest decent hour, and that only after after pacing in the roadway for more than half an hour before entering their grounds. As they returned from Church, Mrs. Bennet, taking pity on William, suggested that Elizabeth detour to show him the new orchard and folly, and with a stern look, quelled any teasing suggestions from Adele or Georgiana that they would like Kitty to show it to them too, so the couple arrived there alone. "As you can see, it is either a large folly or a small pavilion. It was constructed last fall, but the weather has not been cooperative, and we have yet to use it for picnics, although Jane and I did shelter-"

"Elizabeth, may I ask you about something - I beg your pardon."

"No, sir, please continue."

"May I ask you about last night? Was it just politeness when you agreed to my calling on you?"

Elizabeth blushed, and held his gaze. "No, it was sincere. I, and all of my family are delighted to see you-"

"No, Elizabeth," he stopped her, moving his right hand up to her face in a gentle caress. "Please answer for yourself alone. Much as I respect your family, I ask only for your opinion."

Elizabeth found herself unable to speak, but she leaned her cheek against his hand, and then brought her own small hand up to press his larger one more firmly against her face and sighed softly. Darcy continued, "You are too generous to trifle with me. If you think you could never care for me, say so at once. You must know how ardently I admire and love you, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for...for the moment."

Elizabeth took his large hand in both of hers, and replied softly; "Mr. Darcy, I am overjoyed that you have come."

"You are?" he asked in a soft voice, moving his other hand up to her cheek.

She held his eye as she nodded.

"Then, you might grow to love me?"

"No," she managed in a whisper. "I already do."

The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he surprised himself almost as much as Elizabeth as he slipped his hand from her cheek to behind her neck and moved in to claim her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. Though unprepared, Elizabeth was certainly not unwilling to receive this attention. She had dreamt of her first kiss, but had never suspected it could overwhelm her so completely. The bare skin of her neck where he rested his hand tingled delightfully, but this was nothing compared to the sensation created by his thumb gently caressing her jaw line and the heat of his mouth moving on hers, encouraging her own lips to respond.

"Oh my - " Elizabeth sighed when he eventually released her.

"Oh my, indeed," Darcy laughed, as he moved back to place another soft kiss upon her lips before taking her hand to walk again.

She smiled up at him, and saw an expression of heartfelt delight on his face, making him more handsome than ever.

"I am sorry if I was too forward," he apologized on noting the blush in her cheeks.

"You are not sorry in the least, sir," Elizabeth gave a slight, embarrassed smile. "You are decidedly pleased with yourself."

Darcy laughed, "I have been wanting to do that for so long now; since you and your sister were trapped by the rain at Netherfield, at least. Still, it would have been more gentlemanly had I asked your permission."

"I am glad you did not," Elizabeth replied, a little more of her composure returning, "on the chance that I would have felt obliged to refuse you."

This led to another liberty, and Elizabeth allowed herself to be pulled into his arms for another kiss. Darcy realized that they were somewhat exposed in that location, and so he guided her further into the orchard.

"William-" Elizabeth said, but was interrupted by another kiss. Starting again, she drew breath, and then sighed, "I have forgotten what I wanted to say - what was the topic?"

Darcy laughed, "I am sure that we were speaking of when we might marry."

Elizabeth was too content to quibble, and forewent pointing out that he had neither proposed nor been accepted.

"I bless you for forgiving me, and giving me another chance. If I had been less blind, I would have realized that I had loved you, and wished, above all else, to marry you, while you and Jane were at Netherfield."

"And I bless you for overlooking my temper. I regret much of what I said to you when you returned with you cousins. I would prefer that we forgot all but the last few moments of that conversation."

"I had been such a fool that I feared that if I were completely honest, you would be lost to me. I thank Heaven that you saw through me, and forced me to candor. My cowardice could have lost what my foolish pride had just endangered."

"I am only glad that you loved me enough to overlook my abuse, and my lingering resentment."

"You said nothing to me that was not deserved, had every reason to resent me, and that resentment has not lingered even a month," he laughed.

"I am glad that you were honest, and courageous, because if you had not clearly expressed your intentions, my emotions toward you would have remained in a muddle for some time. And, no doubt, Wickham's remark about your engagement to your cousin, Miss de Bourgh, would have haunted me as well."

"Your father told me that you were perceptive enough to not trust a single thing he said. That was just another of his lies, but like most of them, there is just enough truth in it to confuse. As I said to you before, her mother does wish me to marry her, but we have told her we will not, and my cousin's bad heart will preclude her ever marrying. But while we are discussing our jealousies, you must have an army of suitors that dwarfs my cousin Adele's-"

"There is no one else, William. There have been a few pleasant young men that called now and again, but none of them could ever have attached me even if you and I had not met, and now that we have, no one else ever could."

Turning to her, with a serious look on his face, Darcy began to speak quietly and earnestly, talking rationally of his esteem and admiration for her abilities and character. Then, with increasing warmth, he reiterated his feelings, the depth of which proved what importance she was to him, and made his affection every moment more valuable. Finally, he asked for her hand, assuring her that he would do anything in his power to prove himself worthy, and that if she would accept him, he would devote his life to her happiness. By the end of his declaration, tears ran freely down Elizabeth's face, and she found it difficult to speak, but forced herself to immediately, though not very fluently, repeat that she returned his love and received his hand and heart with gratitude, and they shared another, even more ardent kiss this time, after which he placed his mother's ring on her finger, and dried her tears with his handkerchief.

Having walked on without attention to direction, they were pleased to find themselves in a secluded corner of the orchard. Darcy placed Elizabeth on a seat before seating himself beside her. Elizabeth repressed an involuntary shiver as Darcy removed her glove and kissed her hand before entwining his fingers in hers.

Deciding that it would be well to have some conversation, Elizabeth teased, "Do you suppose that we can live on your 'ten thousand a year'?"

"I expect that we can live on that sum, but my income is well over fifty thousand a year - last year it was seventy-three thousand, not counting the income from trusts that have been set up for Georgiana and my eventual wife and children. And I have a number of very promising investments where the returns are being reinvested, but which will surely generate substantial sums in the future."

"Then you have no need of my five thousand pounds?"

"No. I do not care if you have no dowry, my dear."

"I do have something, you know. Jane was very surprised to learn than our trusts - my father and my uncle set up trusts for us and our children - our trusts are large enough that she would be allowed to take £12,000 per annum from hers for her own use, after she married. I do not know what their current value is, but I know that my father is very conservative, and so this must be no more than the actual income. How large a trust do you suppose would be required for this?"

"At least £300,000."

"Oh...well. That is more than 5,000, is it not? I suppose that we will always be able to eat and keep a roof over our heads, between the two of us."

Darcy smiled, "I dare say. We have strayed from my topic, which I find far more compelling: May I go to your father?"

Elizabeth laughed, "I must say that I am very pleased to know that this interests you far more than my fortune of £300,000, or whatever it is. If you wish, we may return to the house now. And perhaps we should, as I am beginning to get cold."

When the younger man entered his study, Mr. Bennet looked up, smiling, and asked, "William, come in. Are you here for a game of chess, or a discussion of drainage?"

Not wishing to beat around the bush, he replied, "Mr. Bennet, I have come to ask for Elizabeth's hand in marriage."

Mr. Bennet smiled at Darcy, and gestured toward a chair. "Please have a seat." After a pause, he continued, "You wasted no time in coming to the point."

"I have been in love with her for some time, sir. Through my stupidity I wasted months." He had been about to launch into another tirade against his mistakes, but remembered in time that Mr. Bennet had stopped him in the past, and surely had even less interest in hearing about it now, or in the future. "As soon as I had some indication that your daughter might accept me, I had to know. I have mishandled most of my relationship with her, but I will do better. I love her with all my heart, and will do anything within my power to make her happy."

"Except for the fact that she now blames herself for a good deal of your difficulties, I suspect that my daughter would say pretty much the same thing. My wife warned me last night that you would wind up here on this errand today, although she apparently forgot to make a note," he joked, leaning forward to riffle the pages of a desk calendar, "as to the time." Settling back, he asked Darcy the usual questions about assets and income, which the younger man answer quickly, and then questions about his family, his relationships and their likely responses to Elizabeth, which he answered with longer pauses for thought. Finally, "Very well, I am satisfied. Lizzy knows her own mind, and I am convinced that you do, too. And I see no obvious problems, other than you are both very intelligent and very passionate - your first few fights as a married couple should be memorable. You have my consent and my blessing. Have you any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Are you not interested in her dowry?"

"Not urgently. I have more money than I can spend, and even were we to have ten children, they would all be well provided for. She mentioned that she has a substantial trust, and I imagine that we will go over the details when we are preparing the settlement papers, but at this moment, I would much rather return to her, or hear stories about her as a little girl, than discuss finances."

"You are besotted, and I am very glad to have confirmation of it. Let us go to tell your new Mother, so she can fuss over and pet you and her daughter for a while, and then we can all reminisce about Lizzy. This will distract Julia and Jane for the rest of the day, as they have become quite low without their betrotheds about," he laughed.

Darcy blushed a little at being so teased, but his day was very lovely. It included many stories of his beloved's girlhood, told by her mother and sisters, and a few by her father. In retaliation, Lizzy told some charming stories about Jane that caused her to blush, and eventually prompted her most forbearing sister to begin a story about Lizzy and some chickens, which led to Lizzy's unconditional surrender, amid general laughter. He and his father-in-law did speak a bit about finances that evening, after dinner, and his reaction was the same as that of Bingley and his cousin: he was glad that the money was there, but saw no reason to touch the trust. As he was making his farewells that evening, Mrs. Bennet handed him a letter she had written for him. "I find it is sometimes easier to say exactly what is meant in a letter, so I wrote this for you, my newest son," and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He choked up a bit, but managed to say, "Thank you, Mother," before turning to Mr. Bennet, and saying, "Goodnight, Father." His reply was, "Goodnight, Son. We expect you back bright and early tomorrow," and he concluded with a handshake and and a warm pat on the shoulder.

The letter from Mrs. Bennet was much kinder, and more frank, then he had imagined. In part, it said: I believe that I understand how you felt at the beginning, having been raised to a similar station, with similar expectation. I know that you had some misgivings about affiliating yourself with us then, and I saw how your attraction to Lizzy was at war with your expectation of yourself. And I believe that I know you well enough to understand that you feel guilt over this. The misgivings that you had may not have been right or just, but they were natural enough, given your background. I had misgivings about Thomas when I first met him, and only his initial indifference to me, and my immediate attachment to the girls, let me overcome that foolishness before making a hash of our courtship. It took some time before all of my family accepted my husband, and in a few cases it was only after he let it be known that he was Essex's cousin, and much wealthier than they supposed. So do not feel guilty, and if you must, do not let those feelings give rise to anger sufficient to cause a rift in your family, if it can be avoided. Lizzy will not think less of you for temperance and patience in the face of their uneasiness. Forgive them their misgivings as we forgive ourselves our own. The letter also contained affectionate and insightful commentary on her expectation of a very happy marriage for them, as well as an entreaty that he allow his sister to continue to be another daughter to me expressed in the warmest of terms. Darcy could see, again, how his Elizabeth came to be the woman that she was, with two such parents, and understood better how much he was gaining from his wife. This made him feel yet another kind of fool, when he considered his earliest feelings, but Sarah's words quickly put a stop to that. He prepared an express for his cousin, and arranged to have it sent at first light, and then retired, after instructing his valet and the housekeeper that he would be leaving before breakfast the following morning.

Andrew had arrived in Weston Hall late in the afternoon on Saturday, and asked to see his father as soon as possible. Finding him in the study, with a great many piles of paper about him, he greeted him with an affectionate hug. "I am very glad you are here. Your uncle has been quite anxious to see you. He is resting at the moment, but someone will come for you when you can go in. In the meantime, how is that young lady of yours? My last letter from your mother says that you are close to an understanding."

"She was correct, as we became engaged on Thursday. I sent Mother an express the next day, but since I was to see you today, I decided to give you the news in person."

"Excellent! Strong work! I remember her quite well - like a younger sister to Adele. Still as beautiful and accomplished as she was? Liked her father quite a bit, you know - the mother was very lovely, too...did not know the son. I suppose that there is no dowry, but no matter...The family that is looking after her, they are country gentlefolk? I imagine they will want to make the most of the relationship."

"Julia is even more beautiful and accomplished than she was four years ago. As to the dowry, it is actually very large. Her guardian- really, her father, said that he would approve the expenditure of £12,000 a year from the trust that he has set up for her and her children." This caused his father's eyebrows to rise to great heights. "Her new family, the Bennets, do reside in Hertfordshire, and they live rather simply, for a family of their enormous wealth and sophistication, but the parents are not country anythings." Waiting to ensure he had his father's attention, he continued, "Her father is Mr. Thomas Bennet of Hertfordshire, who prefers the country to town, so he is rarely in London. His first wife, who died when the youngest girl was born, was the youngest child of Justice Sir Michael Gardiner, and sister to Mr. Edward Gardiner, the industrialist, whose house in town is just across from William's."

That was a name that his father recognized very well, and his eyebrows went up another notch. "What is Gardiner like? Have you met him?"

"No, not yet. But we were staying with a friend of William's, and the friend described Mr. Gardiner as a very intelligent, gentlemanly man. Well-educated, refined, funny. Reminded him of Lord Harcourt, but better read," he said, naming a member of the Ton that was widely admired for his cultivation and kindness. This elicited a thoughtful nod from his father, and Andrew could imagine what was running through his head, 'I could put him up for membership at the club - we could use some new blood. The connection might help him, and it certainly would not hurt me. He will be family....'

Andrew continued, "Mr. Bennet is first cousin to Lord Essex - their mothers were sisters - and they have been so close since boyhood that they call one another 'brother'. Essex claims Julia and the Misses Bennet as nieces, and strongly encouraged Lord Malden to marry the eldest, but they did not form an attachment. Mr. Bennet was the third son, and had early distinguished himself as the holder of the Lucasian Chair at Cambridge" - Cambridge was a family tradition in the Darcy and Fitzwilliam families, and his eyebrows were now at an almost comical height - "but he had to give it up at the untimely death of his siblings." At the earl's inquisitive look, he replied, "The eldest brother and their sister died in a carriage accident - lightning - and the second brother was a soldier, who died, heroically in battle, three days later, before learning of his siblings' deaths." At his uncle's nod, he continued, "Mr. Bennet has been as successful in managing his estate as he was at Cambridge; his farms made over £20,000 last year, and he is Mr. Gardiner's partner, and is primarily responsible for the brilliant innovations that have been the source of their success."

After a pause, he then began to discuss the Landsdowne connection. "About a year after his first wife died, Mr. Bennet was married to the current Mrs. Bennet, then Sarah Landsdowne, sister to the Earl of Shelbourne. You recall that the Dowager Countess is sister to the Duke of Cumberland? Neither Mrs. Bennet nor her family make the slightest distinction between her children, her step-children, or my betrothed, so Julia and the Misses Bennet are also called 'niece' by Lord Shelbourne and Lord Salisbury - who married Mrs. Bennet's younger sister - and by Lord Cumberland. The family is very close, and they meet regularly in Hertfordshire, Dorset, Ambleside, or London. Those are my betrothed's connections. She has trusts containing over £400,000 in the funds. As I mentioned, her father informed me that he was prepared to allow £12,000 per annum of trust income for our personal use after marriage, but I encouraged him to have the trust retain all of the income. Obviously if there were any need, the money would available."

"My word. With wealth like that, it is easy to see why her father stays so close to the ground. Love, a fortune, and the best connections. You are a lucky fellow, especially in the young lady. I hope to see her again - and the whole family - as soon as possible, after this sad business is concluded. Uncle Henry is hanging on just to say goodbye to you, I think. Mother is here, but I managed to get her to lie down for a while this afternoon. I suspect that Henry will be gone in at most a day or two. I am happy to say that the estate is doing well - he has always been very clever, just disorganized..." He looked pensive for a time, and then asked, "Is there something going on I should know about?"

"Probably, but even if I know what it is, I shall need more of a clue than that to tell you about it, Father."

"Uncle's man, Hopkins seems very distraught, and there is over £20,000 missing. I tried to talk to Henry about it, and he got very upset - damn near finished him - and then Hopkins looked very frightened and said that I should speak to you..."

"Ah! Well, Uncle Henry gave me £25,000 and asked me to make sure that Hopkins accepted it as a legacy." He then waited while his father digested the news.

After a delay, while his father's changing features reflected his thoughts, he finally looked alarmed, and asked, "Does Mother know?"

"I am sure that she does, Father. Uncle has always been very private about the nature of his...nature - perhaps because he and Hopkins have had such a long 'relationship'. He might not have told me about it, except that he was worried about his- Hopkins. But he and Grandmother have always been close, and she knew him when he was much younger, and likely less discreet."

"The old bugger. I have to say that I am relieved. Do not care for the sin, but I do love the sinner, and I was afraid that he was going to die without ever having been...loved." After thinking for a while, he laughed sadly, and said, "That rather makes Hopkins the 'widow.'"

"It does, Father, but I hope you will not mind if I find nothing funny about it. William got to know His Grace quite well, after the fire here-"

"I recall - he spent some months at Pemberley."

"Yes, he did, and William was quite touched at the affection between the two men."

"You mean he knows? Your cousin's a bit of a prig, is he not? I would think that this would upset him greatly."

"You have never really understood William, Father. He is stiff because he feels that he has to 'hold things together,' especially for Georgie. He forced himself to be a model of rectitude to protect her, and to ensure that no one in the family would think of taking her away from him."

"We would never-...Catherine would have."

"Exactly. William is much more open-minded than you give him credit for being, and he will be even more so, once he marries Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Aha! That explains a cryptic remark of your mother's. So you will be brothers, of a sort..."

"No, we will be brothers. When she was taken in by the Bennets, Julia became their child. All of her dowry comes from them, and it includes two-and-a-half percent of Gardiner Enterprises - which, as you know, is worth far more than the sum in the funds," a remark that made the earl's eyebrows rise higher than ever. "You will like the family, and especially William's betrothed. She has her father's intellect - he misses nothing, and she is exactly like him."

"She sounds rather...formidable." he said, hesitantly.

"She is nothing like your sister, Father. Beautiful, very witty, plays like an angel, and sings like a star of La Scala, and speaks beautiful French, German, and Italian. All of the family is extremely pleasant; it is just that the father and this daughter have the most penetrating intelligences I have ever encountered."

"We need to get acquainted, then. Do you think that we can persuade them to come to Town for a visit?"

"They are going on Monday, although my impression is that Mr. Bennet may remain at home." At his father's questioning look, he replied, "They are shopping for trousseaus. The eldest daughter is also engaged."

"I see...Speaking of Hertfordshire, one of William's friends is around there, is he not? Bingby?"

"Charles Bingley. He is the friend with whom we were staying. He will marry the elder sister. She was the one being chased by Henry and Church last Season."

"Well, he has done well for himself. It would be a good marriage for him even if the young lady had no dowry to speak of, as was rumored last spring. Another love match?"

"Yes, Father. Very much so."

"Ah, well. I now recall that Richard was quite taken with her looks and manners, but not head-over-heels, so even if he had pursued her, it would not have worked out. Catherine will not like this, of course. William could never have married Anne, even if he had been inclined to behave that cold-bloodedly - she could not give him an heir. Catherine will also rant on about the Portman title being extinct. Being reasonable was never a strength of hers, but since Lewis died she has become distressingly selfish. Wants what she wants when she wants it, thinks that this is enough of a reason, and has a tantrum if she fails to get it; did that when we were children, too. How will Anne take William's engagement?"

"Georgie says that she will be relieved, and Adele agrees. That is, until Aunt Catherine chooses another target for matrimony. Fortunately for Richard, Aunt Catherine thinks of him as being irresponsible. William told me that he and Anne have talked, and she is determined to not marry anyone. Apparently they both told Aunt Catherine, twice, that they had no interest in marrying, but she refused to hear them."

"I shall handle Catherine." When his son looked dubious, he said, "Even if she refuses to be reasonable, the estate is in my hands." This time, it was his son's eyebrows that shot up. "Lewis left it for Anne, and if she does not have children, then it will go to Stephen or his heirs. But I am the trustee, and if nothing else works, I shall move Catherine out and cut off her allowance. I have been letting her pretend to run the place - I am the one that hired the steward, Stevenson, and William goes down once or twice a year to check up on his work. Stevenson knows that the estate is not Catherine's, either. One of the reasons she does not push more about the marriage is that she knows William has more say about Rosings than she does."

They then started going through various papers and ledgers, discussing the estate, and possible improvements, and investments and divestments that should be considered. At one point the earl asked his son, "Did you have any luck with Richard?"

"No, he flatly refused to take over Ashbourne. I did get him to agree to take the properties in Devon and Cornwall, though. It will be a relief to me to not have to oversee them any longer, and that will give him at least £5000 a year, with the income on the legacy from Grandmother."

"I have been putting £7000 a year in his account Holland's, and I discovered not long ago that he has never taken a shilling out of it. By now, the principal generates over £2000 a year. What does your brother live on?"

"His army pay, and his skill at cards and backgammon. But he could not very well tell a prospective father-in-law that he supports himself at the rate of £50 a week on the unreasonable optimism of his comrades at arms. At some point the Army will pall, and then he will have a very comfortable income, and can marry where he chooses." Shortly thereafter, a servant arrived to summon Lord Ashbourne to his uncle's side.

As he was leaving, Andrew recalled the letter from Mr. Bennet, and gave it to his father.

Thomas Bennet
Longbourn Manor
Longbourn, Hertfordshire

My dear Lord Matlock,

First, allow me to offer my condolences on the decline of your uncle, Lord Stafford. I met him on three different occasions while I taught at Cambridge, and found him a very cultured, charming gentleman. He was a patron of our College, and highly respected. If I can be of service to you in any way, please do not hesitate to let me know. At this time, I can only think to offer my pious, but sincere, regret at his imminent passing.

On a much happier topic, we are all delighted with your son and daughter. Their visit has lifted our spirits, and their sincere affection for our Julia has helped her put behind, once and for all, the pain of her mistreatment following the death of her family. I know that you are very proud of your children, and I am very proud to count them as a part of our family, too. Your eldest son is a very handsome and charming young man, but his intelligence, his character, and his goodness are all very far beyond what is commonly seen, and are so marked that I find - to my surprise - that I feel very calm about entrusting him with the welfare of my daughter.

Finally, I feel that you should be informed of a minor unpleasantness, so that you are prepared in the unlikely event that it becomes public. Last summer and fall Mr. Jonathan West, the piano master, concert performer, and son of Sir Reginald West, began paying court to Julia. I was not entirely satisfied with what I knew of the family, but neither was I prepared to ban him from her presence. And, as she seemed rather infatuated with the young man, and was of age, I felt that it was best to allow her to see him under close supervision. In short, he wooed her, proposed marriage, and my daughter conditionally agreed to a courtship - the condition being that her parents approved. I was thinking about what I would need to hear from the young man on his visit to even consider allowing the courtship to go forward, when instead we received correspondence from his father's solicitor, insisting that no proposal had occurred, and threatening a suit if we made any such claims.

I will not pretend that I was not relieved to discover the young pipsqueak's true colors this early, and I admit that I was sufficiently angry that my wife had to restrain me from crushing him like the bug that he is. I did arrange for Sir Anthony Cartwright to put the wind up them, and he assures me that they are sufficiently frightened that it is very unlikely that this matter will ever surface - as you know, that family has more than enough trouble at the moment to keep themselves occupied. Julia, of course, did nothing wrong other than undervalue herself for a time, and she was never alone with this undeserving young man, even when he made his proposal.

Allow me to say again how delighted my family are with your son and daughter, and how we look forward to getting to know all of you better in the future.

Your servant,

Thomas Bennet

Lord Matlock knew Sir Reginald rather well, and thought nothing much of him. He was extremely displeased at the thought that Miss Bradford might have been taken from them, although he had heard enough from his son to doubt that Mr. Bennet would have readily given his consent even to the courtship, must less a marriage. But James did understand quite well the effect the handsome young man had on musically inclined young ladies - Adele had mooned over the talented pianist for several weeks at one point, and she was far less susceptible than most of her peers.

"Bless you for coming, Andrew."

"Of course, Uncle. I am just sorry to see you like this."

"It will not be for much longer, Nephew...You have the money for David?"

"I opened an account for him at L&L - they are very trustworthy. I put it in safe investments, and it will return a little over £1200 a year. I thought that we could put the legacy from the will there, as well, and then he could draw on that to buy...a carriage, or a house, or...I have that small place in Chelsea - I think that he could be very comfortable there, and I could charge him a pound a year for it." His uncle had grasped his hands, and begun crying softly. "What is it, Uncle? Is something wrong?"

"No, Andrew. It is just that I have been so worried about him. But you will watch over him?"

"Of course I will. And, if he would rather live in the country, William offered a very pleasant cottage at Pemberley. Perhaps you recall it - it is on the ridge behind the manor house?"

This offer greatly affected his uncle. "That is very kind of William."

"Not at all. You are his uncle too, and he is as fond of you as I am. Do you have any idea where Mr. Hopkins would prefer to live, after..."

"After I have died. I am no longer afraid, Andrew. As long as David is given his due, I can be at peace."

"We will look after him, Uncle. Do not give it another thought." At this, his uncle lay back and sighed, and seemed to shrink, as if the will to live had left him. After a moment, Andrew summoned a servant, and sent for his father, his grandmother, and Hopkins. The four of them kept watch over the duke as he slipped peacefully away, breathing his last at about 8:30 that evening. The new Lord Stafford led his mother away, indicating with a gesture that his son should speak to the late duke's long-time companion.

Andrew asked Hopkins to accompany him to the study, where he offered him a seat, which was respectfully declined. "As you wish, Mr. Hopkins, but you need to understand that you are no longer a servant, but a man of some property. And further, that the family owes you a great deal for your kindness to my late uncle." At this, the older man began to cry, and the newest Lord Matlock rose, led him to a chair, and brought him a brandy which he insisted be consumed. After a long conversation, it was learned that David Hopkins had accumulated a total of £10,000 over the years - his lover had given him a very large salary, and frequently pressed him to take additional funds - and he was very surprised to discover that he was to receive another £35,000. He was far more touched to discover that the late duke's family did not despise him, and instead regarded him as, if not a member of the family, at least far more than a pensioned-off dependent. In the end, he refused any of the houses, choosing to take a modest abode in an 'artistic' part of London. He did accept the offer of mementos, however, and asked for the furniture from the small sitting room where he and the late duke had spent so many pleasant evenings, and a number of personal effects and books.

Andrew saw Mr. Hopkins only three times after that. The first occasion, a few months later, was when Lord Matlock visited the older man's rooms to deliver a small portrait of Lord Stafford, and the second time, about a year after the first meeting, was when Mr. Hopkins accepted, after being gently pressed, an invitation to tea at Matlock House. The last time was a chance meeting many years later, at a show at the Royal Academy, where the frail, elderly man was pleased to be introduced to Lord Matlock's party as 'a friend of the family.' This was not a fiction, as through the years they exchanged regular, though infrequent, letters. And on Mr. Hopkins' death, he returned the surprise his correspondent had given him many years previously: his estate of £100,000 was left to George Henry Fitzwilliam, third son of Lord Matlock.

The details of the funeral, the assumption of new titles, and the reading of the will, occupied the following week. A number of male relations came to Weston-under-Lizard for the funeral on Wednesday - Darcy and Richard Fitzwilliam among them - but if they were expecting bequests, they were disappointed. Except for pensions, etc., for the staff, and the very large Stafford properties in and near Brighton left to his grandnephew William, as a mark of appreciation for his hospitality some years back, the entire estate went with the title, to his nephew, James Fitzwilliam, 5th Duke of Stafford. The new duke had been pleased to find that estate was honestly, if somewhat inefficiently, managed. The income was nearly £200,000 a year, and over a half-million pounds lay idle - 'An invitation to theft, to have that kind of money just sitting around,' he thought. But within two years, by making better investments, and retiring the least effective managers, the income had increased by over 50%, and many, many years later, when his son inherited the title, the dukedom was one of the wealthiest in the Kingdom. Darcy had arrived on Tuesday, and stayed a week to help his cousin and uncle make a catalog of the holdings, and discuss what should be done with them, but James Fitzwilliam understood how anxious his son and his nephew were to return to their young ladies, and so he insisted that they leave early on the 9th of February. "Uncle Henry would not have wanted to interfere with your weddings, so if you want to get married quietly on the day your originally chose, you certainly have my blessing. But if you want to wait until May, then Mother and I would be delighted to host a ball to celebrate the event, and introduce my new daughter, and niece, and all of their family. I do ask that you two wait to announce your engagements until I can go down to Rosings - Catherine deserves to hear about them in person."

In the early afternoon of the day before her betrothed was to return to London, Elizabeth sat in the Gardiner's parlor agonizing over a letter to Charlotte. She had received the letter from her friend the previous Friday, and it was already almost a week old by that time, as it had been part of a bundle sent down from Longbourn to Gardiner House, where they were staying in Town. The bundle included a letter from Thomas for Sarah, to encourage her return, but her mother had needed no prompting, and had returned on Friday, as planned, with Georgiana and Kitty. Adele had moved back into Matlock House, as they were in mourning for the next three months. It was, to her, a formality, "I barely knew Great-Uncle Henry; I think that we exchanged less than a hundred words, all told. My grandmother has told me quite a bit about her younger brother - they were the last surviving Westons. I cannot say that I shall miss him, although I know that Father and Andrew were quite fond of him...His Grace was not that interested in the younger children or Mother, I guess. I believe that he and William got on quite well, though." And despite the black wreath on the door, the Bennet ladies had gone to visit the new duchess on Thursday, although they had dressed in subdued clothing and used a Darcy coach, to hide that it was a social visit.

The visit itself had been very pleasant. Lady Stafford was determined to like her son's new family: she remembered Julia with the greatest of affection, and she and Lady Salisbury had become friends in recent years, due to their husbands being, first, political allies, and later, friends themselves. As she did not receive anyone else that day - the men of the family being at the funeral, and the women who were close enough to visit were also, technically at least, in mourning. As a result, the guests spent several hours, and even stayed to supper. It was not precisely jolly, but it was very comfortable, as their hostess set a welcoming tone - "All of you young ladies call me Aunt Susan, except for you, dear Julia, who are now required to call me 'Mother'" - and she was on a first name basis with Mrs. Bennet before the evening was over.

Toward the end of the evening, the duchess indicated a preference for some music, and Adele and Julia insisted that Elizabeth perform, so she chose some quieter pieces, concluding with a dazzling performance of Dove sono i bei momenti, from Le nozze di Figaro. After this, her mother accepted without question Adele's description of Elizabeth's many accomplishments. When the guests had left, she asked her daughter, with a smile, "Are we sure that William is good enough for Elizabeth?".

"Perhaps not, Mother, but she is very much in love with him, and trying to talk her out of it is surely beyond me, as she is far more intelligent than she is proficient at music," which brought a clear look of surprise to Lady Stafford's face. "Oh yes, anyone arguing with her is soon tied into knots. Except her father, that is...it is remarkable to listen to them debate. As she has the support of her parents in this - they are both very fond of William - it would take an act of Parliament to stop their marriage."

"I am glad to hear it. She is a very cheerful person, is she not? She will breathe life back into William and Georgie, and if she can more than hold her own in debate with him, all the better. If she cannot jolly him out of sadness, she can argue him out of it," she laughed.

Elizabeth forced herself to stop thinking about the visit, as satisfactory as it was, and to return the letter she was writing. She struggled with how to respond without either accepting or rejecting Charlotte's invitation, and without lying or mentioning Julia's or her engagements; William had asked the Bennets to wait on the announcements until his Aunt Catherine could be informed in person, and Mr. Bennet had found a way of phrasing the matter to Sir William that led that genial fool to think that it was his own idea not to mention anything about the courtships to his daughter or son-in-law. But the difficulty of writing to Charlotte under such constraints, and the awkwardness Elizabeth felt about excluding such information, make her letters stilted, and she was on a third attempt when an entirely unexpected visitor was shown into the sitting room.

Chapter 22

Posted on February 15, 2010

After packing her sister off for York, Louisa had written a long letter of apology to her brother at Netherfield, but she had been sufficiently nervous that the direction on it was illegible, and the letter had been lost. After waiting several days, she then sent another letter, which unfortunately arrived just after he had left for Town, and that letter, which followed him to Darcy House, was among the last to get forwarded from there to his club, where it sat until it was no longer relevant. Because of this, Louisa was feeling rather low, and her husband had, the previous morning, encouraged her to visit some of her friends. It was in the course of those morning visits that she had gotten some garbled intelligence that led her to conclude that Miss Bennet was visiting her 'relations in trade.' So, late that morning, she had called at Darcy House looking for her brother, figuring that if Jane was in Grosvenor Square, then her brother would be, as well. It was a good guess, but he was out for the day, having taken Jane, Julia, and Mrs. Gardiner to look at the Curzon Street house - only Elizabeth had remained, to struggle with her reply to Charlotte. Directed across the square by the Darcy staff, she approached the house with some trepidation, and after "A visitor for you, Miss Bennet," was uttered, she found herself face to face with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Her hostess' look of surprise was probably a mirror of her own, but Elizabeth quickly recovered herself.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Hurst. I hope you are not offended by my reaction - I was not expecting visitors."

"No, Miss Elizabeth. I am sorry to intrude-"

Elizabeth immediately took pity on her guest, who was obviously ill at ease, 'After all, she was never actively unkind to me, or to Mama, and she was very displeased by her sister's behavior at the ball.' "Not at all, Mrs. Hurst, please be seated. Charles and my sisters, and my aunt, Mrs. Gardiner, have gone to look over his house - he is very eager to have Jane's ideas on redecorating. I chose to remain, as I rarely have anything useful to contribute about that, and I am sadly delinquent in answering a letter from a friend."

"Then I am in the way. I-"

"No, you are a welcome diversion from a singularly unrewarding afternoon. I seem to be unable to express a coherent thought, and I am glad to take a break from trying. How have you been? Charles mentioned that he had written to you about his engagement, and was eager to hear from you. I hope that you got his letter - his writing is rather hard to make out sometimes, and he worried that the letter had gone astray."

"We did get it, while visiting some of Mr. Hurst's relations over Christmas. I wrote back and did not hear from him- Miss Elizabeth, I know that I owe you and the rest of your family many apologies-"

"Mrs. Hurst, you have always been gracious to me-"

"That is entirely too kind, but we both know that Caroline and I..." and at this point she began to cry, and Elizabeth moved to her side, giving her arm a gentle squeeze, and offered her a handkerchief.

"You cannot control the behavior of another, and I am not petty enough to hold you accountable for anything your sister did."

"But I should have realized that she was lying to Jane. I only found out that Caroline had been burning your sister's letters after Charles had written to Percy, but I should have known that she would do that, and that she would tell your sister that Charles was attached to Miss Darcy."

"Why should you have known it, if your brother did not?"

"Because I have looked after Caroline since our mother died. I knew what she was capable of, what she had done in the past. She had promised to change, and I wanted to believe her," she said, as she began crying again.

"We are to be sisters, so even if you had anything to apologize for, I would surely forgive you, but you have not. You loved your sister, and wanted to believe the best of her. I may, however, find it harder to accept her apologies-"

"I do not know that she ever will. When I insisted that she tell the truth about her actions to Jane, and to your whole family, and ask for your forgiveness, she became so angry that she went to live with our aunt in York," which was news that pleased Elizabeth very much, although she managed to not show it.

"I can imagine that the idea of begging my pardon particularly rankled," she responded wryly.

This brought a faint smile to her guest, "Yes, that might have been the last straw." After a short pause, she continued, "I am ashamed to say that life is much more peaceful, now that she has left. And Percy does not have to pretend-" she stopped in embarrassment.

"Pretend to be asleep every evening?"

"Yes. He had grown so tired of arguing with her, and she treated him so shabbily. He was not nearly grand enough for her."

"The few times we were able to speak away from your sister, I enjoyed his company, and my father liked him very well. Perhaps some time apart will alter your sister's views," she said. "Jane and Charles will be very glad to see you, I assure you, so you must stay with me until they return. And you must call me Elizabeth, as I am not comfortable being formal within my family." This led to another bout of crying, this time on Elizabeth's shoulder, but when Louisa had recovered, they were using first names, and began what was a life-long friendship. While not as intelligent as Elizabeth, Louisa shared her slightly jaundiced perspective, and they took great pleasure in each other's company over the years, and Elizabeth was, by only the smallest margin, the second-favorite aunt of the Hursts' (eventual) six children.

When Jane and Bingley returned, their heartfelt joy in seeing Louisa induced more tears, but calm was soon restored. As Elizabeth had told Louisa beforehand, Jane would hear no apologies from her new sister, insisting firmly that there was nothing to forgive. Jane was even prepared to forgive Caroline, as well, more for her husband's sake than her own, but that was never put to the test. And while Jane's gentle heart grieved longest over Caroline's estrangement, the full knowledge of Caroline's perfidy did more to teach Jane about 'Society' than any number of warnings from her sisters or aunts, making the ever-absent Miss Bingley of great use to the sister she never saw again. And Louisa's visit provided a subject for a chatty, cheerful letter to Elizabeth's friend, so she felt no guilt whatever about leaving out some of the news when there were so many recent events of interest to fill her pages.

Chapter 23

Lord Stafford finally returned to London about a month after his uncle's funeral. By this time, the three Bennet sisters had settled that they would marry on May 21st. It was longer than any of the principals wished to wait, but Julia was adamant that she must honor the mourning period, and Jane and Elizabeth were equally insistent that they share the day with her. By the end of February, all of their trousseaus were complete, three special licenses had been obtained, Bingley's marriage settlements had been completed and approved, and his engagement celebrated most pleasantly with another ball at Netherfield. The settlements for Lord Matlock and Mr. Darcy were much more complex, but these were well along, and had been approved by Mr. Bennet - all that remained was the liquidation and/or transfer of various assets into the young ladies' trust accounts. Elizabeth and Julia had attempted to simplify matters by suggesting that they need have nothing settled on them, as their personal wealth was so large that, even in the case of Miss Bradford, it was unclear whether the groom or the bride brought more to the union. But their husbands were sufficiently old-fashioned that they insisted on providing suitably for their wives, and the girls' father understood and supported this desire. Thus the Misses Bennet and Bradford returned to Hertfordshire, and their fiancés spent as much of their time there as they could - Bingley all of it, Darcy most, and Fitzwilliam about half.

By the time that Lord Stafford had returned, his wife had moved from Matlock House, on the east side of Berkeley Square, to Stafford House, on the south side. The new house actually faced Fitzmaurice Place, and she found the view from the family sitting room unsatisfactory, and as the house had been less recently 'fixed up,' she was not entirely pleased with it. "I am very glad you are home, dear- well, I am glad you are here. This drafty old barn is going to take some getting used to." The house was somewhat larger than Matlock House, but it was not in the least drafty - the late duke's health had meant that particular attention was paid to ensuring that doors and windows were exceptionally well-fitted, and the fireplaces and draperies were especially fine; for such a large house, it was extremely snug.

"My dear, you must do what you can to make the house over. If you cannot get the place in shape in time, Andy will not object to letting us use Matlock House to hold the young ladies' ball. Certainly no one will expect that this place will be up to your standard immediately, if we do have people over this Season. The money will not be a problem; as I told you, the estate is swimming in cash, and while we are finding good uses for it, you must spend some of it making this place the way you want it. It is not really so terrible, is it, love?" he asked with a note of concern.

"No, sweetheart, it is not really so bad. The bones are good; it is just that so much of it is frightfully out of date. I have ordered new chandeliers and sconces for the public rooms, and new paper for...everywhere, and we will replace a lot of the furniture. I also want to rearrange things so that the family rooms face onto the Square - I grew quite attached to looking out onto it; the Carlisles will soon have their first, and likely more to follow, so there will be children playing there again - our grandchildren, too..." she tailed off, her eyes tearing up.

"Naturally, my dear, naturally. We can get the architects to come by for a discreet look-see. If it means tearing out any walls and such, we will need to wait for May to have the builders in."

"It is nothing like that. The rooms on the side of the Square are as large. Uncle Henry liked the south side because it was warmer. We will just have to work out the rearrangement."

With that settled, they caught up on family news, and the duke was delighted to hear how well pleased his wife was with her new daughter-in-law's family. "They are very charming, and quite lovely. The eldest, Jane, is really stunningly beautiful, and one of the sweetest, gentlest young ladies I have ever met. She is a bit naive, but Sophie Carlisle is a lioness when defending her - the whole family, in fact. I am sure that Sophie had a hand in the destruction of the West boys' characters, but it was done so smoothly that Lady West was heard to say recently that, 'Dear Lady Salisbury is our only friend'. The Wests have let their house in town and have gone back to the country for now. Their younger son, the one that played the piano, has gotten married to Letty Harwood, and I understand that her father is not as happy about the arrangement as he was, with all the gossip. It is remarkable, really, with all of the young ladies swooning over young Mr. West that his father manages to marry him off to someone that does not care for him. Her father did this to try to get her away from that Count Villiers-"

"Damned oily bounder!" muttered her husband.

"I suspect that it will not work out as the Baron had hoped - at most his daughter was infatuated with Mr. West," she said softly, "if that."

She paused in thought, and then resumed with, "William's young lady is extraordinary. An astonishing quickness of mind; she really is more than his equal, but very, very much in love with him - it is quite touching. And he is head over heels for her."

"Yes, I could see that even listening to him talk about her. According to him, she is the most beautiful creature that every lived. What is she really like?"

"She is beautiful. In its way, her face is the equal of her sister Jane's, and her eyes are mesmerizing - the most limpid green...perfect emeralds, and gorgeous chestnut hair with hints of gold in it. She is not the Grecian goddess that her elder sister is, nor the Ton ideal of elegance and sophistication that Julia has grown into. But she does have perfect skin and a really lovely smile; she is effervescent. And if she is shorter than ladies of fashion say is ideal, men certainly do not object - they are quite drawn to her, although they find her intellect too much for them, and run away fairly soon."

"How do you know all this?"

"They came to visit me a few times while they were in town, of course, and my cousin Polly was there when the family visited Almack's, and she told me all about it. Why do you ask particularly about her?"

"William said something about how she would not be a 'typical Society wife'..."

"Yes, I think that this is quite correct. She is frightfully well-educated; not just music and languages, but natural philosophy, mathematics, and engineering. She was explaining to me about why cathedrals stay up - I finally understand about the buttresses. A woman like that should really be doing things. And William does not want a wife who throws dinner parties; it is painful enough for him to attend the ones that he cannot avoid. I believe that she is ideal for him, and she is lucky to have a husband that will appreciate and value her, and she is more than intelligent enough to realize it. They will do very well, together." Thinking for a moment, she continued, "Are you worried about what you will tell your sister?"

"Not worried, but I am considering it."

"Perhaps you should meet her, then. She and her mother are in town, to take a look at William's house - he insists that she have it done to her taste. They are staying across the square," she said, with a gesture toward the Carlisle mansion. And so the duke did meet Elizabeth and her mother, and was as charmed as the rest of his family.

The morning after Elizabeth and her mother returned home, he asked his nephew to come by, to speak with him about his plans, and they discussed the Bennet family at some length. Darcy was pleased that his uncle spoke of his betrothed and her mother in the warmest terms, and expressed a desire to meet the rest of the family.

"Oh, there is a less estimable Bennet connection. Elizabeth is a third cousin of Aunt Catherine's clergyman, a Mr. Collins. That would not matter, but he married a neighbor and a very close friend of hers a month back. From what I have heard from you and Mr. Bennet, I hope that we can avoid the husband, but the wife is very sensible and pleasant - I met her in Hertfordshire in the fall. Miss Bennet has been asked to visit her for a while in Hunsford this spring, and she would like to go if Aunt Catherine will not make it unpleasant for her friend."

"That clergyman," his uncle sighed. "What was my sister thinking?" Continuing, he said, "Do not worry about your aunt's behavior. I will deal with Catherine. She may kick up a fuss, but she will behave herself in the end. I know it might not be your first choice, but I think that we should visit her together to tell her of your engagement. She deserves to hear it from you in person, you know, and fairly soon. It is not even eleven yet...What do you say that we go down to Kent today? I can vouch to Catherine for how lovely and charming your Elizabeth is - it will stop her arguing with you about being 'taken in'." Darcy and his uncle left for Kent, arriving mid-afternoon. In addition to speaking to his aunt, Darcy carried a letter from Elizabeth to Charlotte announcing the engagement and explaining why she had not been able to tell her of it sooner. On reaching Rosings, Darcy dispatched the letter to the parsonage, and his uncle sent the butler to request that Lady Catherine "please meet privately with her brother in the library", and they went there to wait for her. When she swept into the room, seeing Darcy, she jumped to the wrong conclusion, and a rare smile formed on her face. Realizing her error, Lord Stafford interjected, "William has something to tell you, Catherine."

"Aunt Catherine, I have come to announce that I am engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of Hertfordshire. She has consented to be my wife, and her parents have given their blessing. We will be married shortly after the mourning period for Uncle Henry is over. I wanted you to know as soon as possible." He said this in a calm, almost uninflected, voice, but he knew that her reaction would not mirror his delivery. He was not wrong.

"What?! That is absurd. You are engaged to Anne!"

"I have received her parents blessing, and I need no ones permission."

"Does your mother's word mean nothing to you? It was her dearest wish that you and Anne would someday marry," she said, growing angrier by the moment.

Lord Stafford interjected, "Catherine, you know that she never said any such thing. It has always been your idea. I was there when Anne died, and she told me to watch over her children, and see that they married well. As much as we all love your daughter, the rest of us know that she and William are not suited. She has told him that she wishes never to marry, and certainly her delicate health would be injured by any attempt to have children."

"And so marriage to a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family - this is 'marrying well?' I have heard of this family. Cousins to my rector. And what of her welfare? Because honor, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbids the union. Do you believe that she will be noticed by your friends and family? She will be a disgrace to this family."

Amazingly, Darcy managed to remain calm. "Aunt, my betrothed's family connections and fortune exceed those of our own, and your Mr. Collins is a third cousin of the Bennets. He has only spent a little time with Mr. Bennet and the youngest son, and knows next to nothing about the family."

She yelled at her nephew, "I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. You and my daughter are formed for each other. You are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line. The fortune on both sides is splendid. You are destined for each other by the voice of every member of our houses; and what is to divide you? The upstart pretensions of this young woman. Is this to be endured! It must not, it shall not be. Her arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made you forget what you owe to yourself and to all your family. You must come to your senses!"

"Aunt, I am entirely in my right mind. I will not yield. Even if I wished it, my honor is engaged, as I have asked and been accepted, and the union has been blessed by her parents, and Lord and Lady Stafford."

"But it has not been blessed by me!" she screamed. "Do you forget who I am? I have not been accustomed to such defiance as this. I am almost the nearest relation you have in the world, and am entitled to a say in all of your dearest concerns." At this point she was almost hysterical.

Darcy's voice was firm, but very gentle. "Aunt Catherine, I am very sorry to upset you, but I am a grown man, and no one other than myself is entitled to a say in my dearest concerns. You are entitled to an opinion, and I have listened patiently, but nothing you have said has changed my opinion, and nothing anyone will say is going to change it. And I remind you again that Anne and I have never wished to marry one another, and she has told me on more than one occasion that she has no wish to marry anyone."

She then passed into hysteria, crying and screaming at her nephew, "You have no regard, then, for the honor and credit of my daughter! Unfeeling, selfish boy! Do you not consider that this connection with this Miss Bennet must disgrace you in the eyes of everybody? That to jilt my daughter will expose her to society's derision for disappointed hopes? Do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. You shall not leave until you have given me the assurance I require!" She now lunged at Darcy and tried to slap him, but he held his aunt's hands, until Lord Stafford caught her in a hug and led her, in tears, to a sofa. He signaled for Darcy to leave them with a head gesture, and as Darcy exited the room, he saw his aunt sobbing in her brother's arms.

He left in search of his cousin, to give her the news. To his relief, she was quietly pleased for him. "Mother did not take it well, did she?"

"No, she was very upset. I now realize that I have never understood why she was so insistent. I thought that it was just a matter of her wanting to have her way in this, as she does in so many things."

"No, that is not it. She has been very lonely and unhappy ever since since Papa died. And when I nearly died, too, not long after that, without Papa to calm her, she began to worry more and more about me. She misses him terribly, although I doubt that anyone else can tell how much. She trusts you, and knows that you would protect me after she is gone - and, dear Cousin, I know that you will do that in any event - but she also wants to believe that I can be well again, and have a full life. Before I became ill, she talked about the possibility that you and I might marry. She said that it had been an idle speculation of hers and Aunt Anne's, and that I would only marry you if we both wanted it. But she cannot accept that the fever that nearly killed me at 11 has damaged my heart, so every few years she hires a new specialist, and they tell her the same thing, and she pushes it from her mind. Your marriage to someone else means that she must accept that I will never be healthy, and that she may well outlive me. I hope that you will forgive her, because she is very fond of you, and so am I. If her behavior were to drive you away, I...we would miss you very much."

"I am not angry, but she must be civil to Elizabeth, or we cannot visit. I would be very sorry to have to stay away from you and my aunt."

"I believe that she will come around. For all her bluster, she does know what is real and what is not." They sat quietly for some time after, until his uncle came out, looking drained, but calm. "Catherine would like to see you. She wishes to apologize."

Darcy returned to the library, where his aunt sat, sniffling, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, and looking smaller and more fragile than he had ever seen her. "You sent for me, Aunt?" he said in his gentlest voice.

"Yes, dear. I am sorry for how I acted. I am sure that your Miss Bennet is a lovely girl, and I will like her, but I could not help feeling jealous that she will be able to marry you and my Anne-" She began to cry softly, and Darcy moved to her and took her free hand in his, earning him a tearful smile, and a kiss on the cheek. Regaining her voice, she continued, "My Anne is so ill. The idea that you and Anne would marry became my dream; that she would be in health again, safe with you, and happy."

"Aunt, I cannot restore Anne to health, but I do love her, and I will always protect and care for her. Elizabeth has a very good heart, and she would insist on this even if I did not." This provoked more tears from his aunt, who said, "Please bring her to me so that I can give her my best wishes. I hope that you both will be very happy, and you must come for a visit as soon as you may."

After a short pause, Darcy replied "She has been invited stay with her friend, Mrs. Collins. I am sure that she would be very happy to visit with you and my cousin at the same time. She was concerned about coming at all because she feared that you would be angered by our engagement, and that this might create an unpleasant situation for her friend and Mr. Collins."

Lady Catherine smiled ruefully, "She was right, but it was wholly unreasonable of me." Pausing, she continued, "Oh, dear, that fool Collins. I have spoken so often about you and Anne marrying that he will importune your betrothed to give you up, thinking that it will please me."

"Elizabeth is almost as formidable as you, Aunt, and would have no difficulty handling Mr. Collins. However, we must make sure that he does not treat his wife unpleasantly over this matter. From listening to you, Anne, and Mr. Bennet, it seems clear that he is a bit of fool, but apparently he is very fortunate in his wife."

"Yes, I had no idea that he would marry so well. Do you know that I sent him to marry one of the Bennet girls, thinking that they had nothing, and he would be doing them a favor? They are very rich?"

"Yes. Their father is a brilliant man, a genius, really. And their Uncle Gardiner is brilliant in his own right. Together they have created a great fortune, and done much good with it, as well."

"My brother says that she is very beautiful and accomplished, and very, very intelligent. That will keep you on your toes. Did you know that was what I loved about Lewis? He was so clever that I never knew what he was going to say. I am afraid that losing him, and then Anne's illness, and finally the prospect of losing Anne has made me turn inward. But I still have a family..."

"You do, Aunt, and we will care for you and Anne, if you will let us."

"Then I should get to know my new niece. Will you ask her to come and stay with me, for a few days at least, during her visit? You should stay, too, Darcy. You can keep Mr. Collins occupied, so that we ladies can get to know one another," and when Darcy smiled and rolled his eyes, his aunt actually laughed. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, which greatly surprised and pleased her, and took his leave. On his return to Longbourn, Elizabeth was shocked to be asked to stay at Rosings, but Darcy assured her of 'Aunt Catherine's' sincerity - and brought a letter for her father from Uncle James with the same assertions.

Elizabeth went in the latter part of March, traveling with Darcy, Sir William, and Maria Lucas. She was to remain a full month, and stay the entire time at Rosings. Darcy would come and go, needing to return to London to attend a few remaining details of the marriage settlement.

Chapter 24

Posted on February 19, 2010

Elizabeth found a garden bench in a secluded corner of the extensive gardens at Rosings. In many ways the past weeks had been tiring, but she was quite satisfied overall. She had become increasingly comfortable with her betrothed, and ever more certain that theirs would a union of heart and mind. She had also been warmly embraced by her new family - although it was her first full day at Rosings, even the redoubtable Lady Catherine has greeted her warmly.

Lady Catherine's introduction to Miss Elizabeth Bennet had proved very entertaining, thus far. The lady was affectionate and welcoming, but a leopard cannot change its spots, and her habits of years, though softened, remained. Their first evening, the formidable lady had dropped the names of the elite in a way that must impress, and she could not refrain from lecturing, often at some length. But she was genuinely interested in Elizabeth, and asked many questions about her preferences and interests. They had not had a great deal of time the previous afternoon and evening to become acquainted, as one might expect, due to some pressing estate issues that had arisen shortly before their arrival. Aunt Catherine - as she insisted Lizzy call her - and Darcy had spent a good deal of the time before dinner in discussions with the steward and the affected tenants. Elizabeth used that part of the first day to become acquainted with Miss de Bourgh. At first she found it difficult to engage her interest, but eventually she thought to ask about her new relations, and her new cousin's mordant wit and eye for detail made for very entertaining, and informative, conversation.

That morning, shortly after breakfast, Elizabeth had gone to visit Charlotte, her fiancé and aunt being still engaged by the tenant crisis, and her new Cousin Anne needing a good deal of sleep each night. She had planned to spend the entire morning with her newly married friend, and had been re-exposed to Mr. Collins, of whose company a little went a long way. Her 'cousin' was, as her father had said, a very odd mix of pride and humility. His somber dress and habitually dour expression put one in mind of an undertaker, but the moment he opened his mouth little respect survived. He had seemed to expect Elizabeth to be very impressed with his position, and while more delicate about it than he had been during that unfortunate afternoon at Longbourn, continued to hint that she must be disappointed that she was not in Charlotte's enviable shoes, and she had barely managed to keep a straight face. Despite the fact - something Miss Bennet learned from her friend after her husband had returned to his study - that one more than one occasion Lady Catherine had expressed her pleasure at the engagement of Darcy and Lizzy, and her eagerness to meet her new niece, Mr. Collins had started, twice, to take her to task for 'drawing Mr. Darcy in,' to the injury of the illustrious Miss Anne de Bourgh. It was clear that he was mystified how someone of so little significance and fortune in the world could be accepted by his patroness, and it irked him that his cousin was to hold a closer relationship with her than his own.

Elizabeth's visit had ended earlier than she had anticipated - well before luncheon - both because of Mr. Collins' apparent disinclination to leave his wife and her friend alone, and because Charlotte needed to visit an elderly shut-in. Expecting the residents of Rosings to be occupied until the midday meal, Elizabeth chose to enjoy the unseasonably mild weather and take a walk. She was very pleasantly surprised to see Darcy striding through the park. His preoccupation with other matters seemed complete, as he walked past, not ten paces from where she sat, without seeing her.

The regular Easter sojourn to Rosings had never brought much pleasure to either Mr. Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam, but this year Darcy was delighted to be there with his fiancée, and his aunt had been astonishingly cooperative on the business matters. He was, however, still pleased that his cousin Richard was to arrive that afternoon, at least in time for dinner. Darcy had had to ride out quite early that morning to deal first-hand with the dispute, and when he returned, he had discovered that Elizabeth had left to visit the Parsonage. Not wishing to interrupt her first visit with her old friend, he left the house and walked briskly away from Rosings to his favorite haunt in the park.

"Good morning, William."

He turned to her with a look of delight, then found his voice to respond, "Good morning, Elizabeth."

"I hope that your early return is a good omen," Elizabeth ventured, fighting a desire to take advantage of their privacy and fall into his arms.

"Yes, the matter is now resolved. The difficulty was almost entirely the result of some confusion on the part of the two tenants. The disputed piece of land had been improved by one of them, but the rights to it actually resided with another. The latter was convinced to relinquish any claim to the field by being given the rights to a similar, unused, piece of the park that is adjacent to his fields. He will clear the land, and receive, in return, a part of the income from the timber. The two tenants are well pleased by this, and my aunt is happy as well. The parkland will not be missed, and her income will increase."

Darcy strolled as slowly as possible, in order to extend the time spent alone with Elizabeth on his arm, but hunger eventually forced them back to the house. The meal followed the pattern of the previous two, with Lady Catherine doing the majority of the speaking and often not listening to the answers to her questions. She was, however, very pleased with her nephew for solving the problem: "Thank you so much, Fitzwilliam, for solving this so quickly. Now we can enjoy the rest of your visit. Elizabeth, you will find that your husband-to-be is an excellent manager, and very well liked by his tenants. It is the best possible recommendation for a landlord, to have contented and prosperous tenants."

"I could not agree more, Aunt. William is the best of men, and I am very blessed to be his choice."

Darcy could not let that stand, and insisted that he was the one that was blessed, and his aunt was happy to see each of them insist that they were the party benefiting most from their marriage. She was also very pleased to see how much Anne liked her new cousin, and surprisingly, exerted herself to forward conversation between the younger people, rather than directing the discussion herself. The afternoon passed quietly, with the de Bourgh women retiring for naps shortly after luncheon, and Elizabeth reading and conversing quietly with Darcy in the library. This was interrupted by the colonel's arrival, and after being warmly greeted, he had retired to his rooms until the entire Rosings' group, augmented by the Collins family, met for tea.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was amazed at the change in his aunt - she was warm, friendly, and generous - and his cousin Anne - she was relaxed and happy. Miss Elizabeth's gentle humor often drew laughs from both of them, and he was hard pressed to recall the last time he had see either of them even smile. 'And William is actually genial - if not for Father's letters, I would be sure that I was in the wrong house.'

"How does Georgiana get on, William?" his aunt inquired, using his 'nickname' - a practice she disliked - to avoid confusing him with his cousin.

Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Darcy as he spoke with affectionate praise of his sister, of her increasing proficiency as a performer, and of her delight in her new sisters.

"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Lady Catherine. Turning to Elizabeth, she continued, "I look forward to seeing for myself, when I attend your wedding. I understand that she will remain with your family until after that time, my dear?"

"Yes, Aunt. My mother is delighted to have another daughter, and she will not relinquish her readily," smiled Elizabeth.

"I think that it will be even harder to convince Georgie to leave Longbourn than it will be to convince Mother to allow her to go," rejoined Darcy. "If not before, I hope to get as much of the family as possible to stop at Pemberley on the way to Ambleside this summer, although I know that the new Lady Matlock is unlikely to be able to come - Cousin Andrew and Uncle James will be very busy in Town even after Parliament recesses."

Elizabeth took the opportunity to say how beautifully Georgiana played, and to mention how pleased her sister Catherine was with Miss Darcy's friendship. "I know that Georgiana greatly values all of her new sisters, but it does appear that their shared love of art, and their gentle natures, has created an especially deep bond between the two of them," Darcy said with a smile to Elizabeth.

"Georgiana's love of music has encouraged Kitty to practice more than she had done, and her proficiency has increased noticeably as a result," she responded.

"I have often told young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice. I hope to hear Elizabeth play while she is here, as I have been told by my brother that she is a brilliant musician and singer. You must have had the benefit of London masters, my dear."

"Miss Elizabeth cannot have suffered from lack of exposure to masters -" the colonel laughed, "her play is dazzling. I believe that you studied with Muzio Clementi? That is what Mother told me."

"Did you really?" Lady Catherine asked. "I heard him play many years ago - he was a great talent."

"Yes, I did study with him for some months, when I was in London, Aunt. His technique was marvelous."

Darcy responded, "I have heard Signori Clementi play, as well, but I do believe that in this case that the pupil has equaled the master. I certainly find nothing wanting in your technique, my dear, which I believe is what anyone having the privilege of hearing you play must say."

"If you are finished with your tea, Miss Elizabeth?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked before a new topic could be introduced. At her assent, he continued, "I remind you of your promise to play for us."

Elizabeth, was quite enjoying the conversation, but understood her new relations' curiosity, and only hoped to not disappoint them. Her fiancé requested Beethoven's Sonata Quasi una fantasia, which she played with great sensitivity and emotion, as well as her usual skill. As she looked up into the silence that met the fading of the final notes, she found Mr. Darcy's eyes still intently upon her. Lady Catherine beamed proudly, "Wonderfully played, Elizabeth. As a rule I do not like these modern composers as much as the masters of Baroque, but with such a performance, who would not be delighted?"

Considering the elaborate style of Rosings, Elizabeth was not at all surprised at such an announcement, but only replied, "I am very fond of Bach, myself, ma'am," and she continued with a piano version of the Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, and at the desire of the party, remained at the instrument for some time, concluding with Voi che sapete, again at her betrothed's request. Her aunt was even more impressed by her singing than her playing, and was again effusive in her compliments. This provoked a panegyric from Mr. Collins, who had been largely silent up to that point, but Lady Catherine found his conversation ever less appealing than usual, and he was at least sufficiently attentive to her moods to know better than to go on at his usual length.

After the music, conversation resumed, and her new aunt indulged her curiosity about her other new nieces. Darcy provide brief sketches of Jane and Kitty, as Lady Catherine seemed especially pleased to hear about 'her namesake'. He then mentioned Jane's engagement to his friend Charles Bingley, and at this his aunt asked about the Bingley sisters, having heard something about the recent falling out between them.

"It is most unfortunate. Charles' younger sister was very interested in matters of Society," Elizabeth responded. "She was unaware of our connections or fortune, and tried to interfere with her brother's engagement to my sister. Louisa - the elder sister - found out about this and demanded that she confess her behavior and apologize, and I am afraid that Miss Bingley elected to live with relations in York, instead. But the elder sister is a delightful lady, and her husband is warm and very amusing, and a great friend of Charles. Jane and Julia have gone to stay with Aunt Sophia for a time, and she has been introducing the Hursts and my sisters about town, and they appear to be greatly enjoying it. And while Jane is sad about the absence of the younger sister, she is very pleased with the elder."

Darcy continued, "Jane has the serenity of a truly gentle lady. She is so kindly disposed towards everyone and everything, that she is loved by all who have the privilege of knowing her. Her only 'flaw' is that she is inclined to believe the best of everyone, and she readily forgives them after they prove themselves wanting - she is very nearly too good for this world." Elizabeth gave a sincere smile at Darcy, both for his understanding of her sister, and his kind remarks.

He continued, "Mrs. Hurst, Jane, and Julia are now the closest of friends, and Mrs. Hurst is as appreciative, and protective, of Jane as any of her sisters. At first, I was surprised Miss Bingley did not swallow her pride and return, since her new sisters would admit her into a circle that was previously closed to her. But the Ton is quite infatuated with Miss Bennet, and has rediscovered their admiration of Miss Bradford, and given their beauty, accomplishments, and connections, it is clear that they will someday be leaders of Society. I suspect that Miss Bingley's jealousy keeps her away - it pains me to say it, but she is of a petty disposition."

"My aunt mentioned that Mr. Allen has been seeing a good deal of Agnes Brewster," said Elizabeth, seeking to change the subject, and the mention of Caroline put her in mind of gossip about a member of Miss Bingley's former circle.

"That annoying little man," exclaimed Lady Catherine. "His mother was the worst sort of snob-" at this she looked embarrassed for an instant, but continued, "but he is even worse. He says that women should be silent and subordinate to men. He will make a terrible husband. He has just his fortune to recommend him, and the fortune is as large as it is only because the family is so mean, even stingy."

Richard replied, "You have made an exact portrait of the little cockroach, Aunt," which was unkind, but not unfair, as Herbert Allen was a short man who favored dark clothing and only came out at night. "Malden told me that he was heard complaining about Elizabeth being too 'learned,' and 'usurping' his position. That makes no sense, as Allen had no position to be usurped." The colonel laughed, and then continued, "He was the worst 'scholar,' and would often complain about having to take instruction from 'people of lower station'. I suppose that he would have liked the Duke of Norfolk to teach him Latin." Pausing slightly, he concluded, "I have met Miss Agnes Brewster, and I am inclined to believe that they deserve one another."

"I agree," Mr. Darcy said. "I think that he had some thought of courting your sister Catherine, but Andrew quietly explained to him that it would be 'prudent' not to importune the sister of the Countess of Matlock, lest he suddenly not be invited anywhere. Your sister mentioned that during their only dance, he recited some poetry to her, claiming authorship."

"Surely not Randolph?" Elizabeth laughed. "I wonder if it was the same piece he once transcribed for Jane. If he hopes to plagiarize successfully, he should pick a less well-known author, and not try it on more than one member of a family."

Darcy laughed aloud, but rejoined "I doubt that Miss Brewster has even heard of Randolph. I would not be surprised if Allen could convince her that he had written a Shakespearean Sonnet..."

"That is very cruel, William," she laughed. "In all seriousness, though, I do find the match rather strange. The Allens are richer than the Brewsters, to be sure, which gives him a certain prominence in society, but I ran across Miss Brewster on a few occasions last Season, and she has much the better mind, even if less informed than it could be, and I wonder about such a marriage."

"It will turn out as well as any marriage based upon a shared love of social standing and the derision of others might," Colonel Fitzwilliam answered. "It is hardly the best foundation for connubial felicity. I have always found Miss Brewster too pushing, but I hope that she will not regret her choice. I am sure that his interest in your sister had nothing to do with her manifold attractions, and was entirely based on her newly known connections. Miss Brewster's standing is far lower than yours, but her sister did marry a title."

Conversation halted for a moment, as none had any more to say on this matter. Lady Catherine broke the silence by asking a question that was foremost in Mr. Collin's mind, "I have not heard of the rest of your family. Can you tell me about them, dear? Is there any nobility in your family line?"

Although the question was asked kindly, it did show that his aunt's attitudes had not changed entirely, and Darcy struggled to formulate a gentle response. But before anyone else could respond, Elizabeth answered in a merry tone, "If there is, Aunt, it is so diluted that it could not be worth speaking of. As Swift might put it, my origins are 'of the lower sort, having been born of plain honest parents'." This reply caused the colonel, who recognized the reference, to choke on the mouthful of tea he had just taken.

"And pray, what is it that you find so amusing?" his aunt enquired in a somewhat peeved tone, knowing that she had missed a joke in Elizabeth's answer.

"Nothing at all, Aunt," the colonel answered, doing a creditable job at containing his mirth. "I merely had some of my beverage go down the wrong way."

"My apologies, Aunt, it was a silly joke. The quote was from Gulliver's Travels, and it is part of a passage in which the narrator speaks of the superiority of commoners as - there is no particularly gentle way of saying this - as breeding stock."

At this, Mr. Collins aspect showed his outrage, and he inhaled deeply to begin a long lecture to his cousin on both the egregious nature of this point of view and her shocking lack of deference to his noble patroness. Fortunately, he struggled long enough in choosing which lecture to begin with that Lady Catherine's surprise had had time to dissipate, and be replaced by hearty laughter. This shocked her rector even more, but it did prevent him speaking.

After the laughter, which spread to the rest of her family, old and new, Darcy felt that he should clarify matters for his aunt. "Elizabeth's answer was a model of modesty - in one sense, at least," he grinned. "Her father's family has been at Longbourn for nearly three hundred years, and he is first cousin to Lord Essex, although their relationship is so close that they call one another 'brother'. That is so, is it not, my dear?"

This was news to even Mrs. Collins, and it shocked her husband. Darcy's betrothed responded, somewhat hesitantly, "Oh...yes, that is correct." She had been still engaged in regretting her tendency to speak before thinking. Immediately upon the words leaving her mouth she was aware that her veiled allusion might cast aspersions on not only Lady Catherine, but on her betrothed's family in general. She was very relieved by their laughter, but still winced at the possibility of giving offense when things were going so well. Everyone had seen how offended the rector was, but that did not trouble her in the slightest. Darcy's even tone reassured her on his account.

Darcy continued, "In addition, Mrs. Bennet is the sister to Lady Salisbury and to Lord Shelbourne, and niece to the Duke of Cumberland, so she has a great many noble connections."

Lady Catherine's interested response was, "Then how is it that you say that you had no noble ancestry, my dear?"

"Mrs. Bennet is my stepmother, although she is as dear to me as any mother could be; my own mother died when I was so young, that I do not really remember a time before my father remarried, and I have no recollection of my first mother. Despite my father's close relationship with Uncle G-...Lord Essex, the relationship there is that their mothers were sisters, and while from a prominent and wealthy family, there was only the occasional lifetime peerage or honor amongst them - as with my...first mother's family - but no titles. All of the Landsdowne, Carlisle, and Capell families claim my sisters and myself as close kin, but my only living aunts and uncles, by birth, are from the Gardiner family."

"While not technically noble, Mr. Gardiner, who is every bit a gentleman, is known as 'King Midas' by the Ton," continued Darcy.

"I have heard my father use that very expression as a term of highest respect for the gentleman," interjected the colonel.

At this litany of estimable connections, Mr. Collins was open-mouthed - no doubt regretting again that he had been unable to connect himself to that family, and Lady Catherine was very well pleased that her new niece's connections were as distinguished as she was beautiful and accomplished. 'There will be no snubbing of dear Elizabeth, even by the worst cats of the Ton...no one would dare, and no one of any taste will find her anything but lovely. Her fortune must be substantial, too, from what I have heard.' She recollected herself quickly, and trying to find some way of phrasing her question, it came out rather the wrong way, although it did not give any offense, as her manner was quite warm. "Even the most illustrious families must have relations in reduced circumstances," she said uncertainly. "Mr. Collins tells me that your father's estate is worth but £2,000 a year, and you and your sister's dowries are a mere £5,000, but this hardly seems possible..."

Elizabeth was slightly ill at ease at this topic, not wishing to discuss such matters in front of the Collins, and because of her upbringing, generally uncomfortable with this topic. Darcy regretted the direction things were taking, but he felt that some clarification was in order. "It is well that Mr. Collins is not in line to inherit Longbourn, as his instincts for estate management need development. It is very prosperous and well-managed, and has an income far greater than Mr. Collins' figure, and Mr. Bennet owns other large properties, as well. And my betrothed's dowry is much larger than £5,000," concluded Darcy firmly.

"Have you met many of your new family, William?" asked Lady Catherine.

"Well, of course, after spending a few months in their neighborhood last fall, I am well acquainted with her immediate family, and since our engagement I have had the pleasure of getting to know Mr. and Mrs. Philips. Mrs. Philips was formerly Margaret Gardiner, and Mr. Philips was the late Justice Sir Michael Gardiner's partner and for many years head of chambers at their firm, before Justice Gardiner rose to the bench, and Mr. Philips retired to the country. I also have had the pleasure of becoming better acquainted with the Gardiner family, who are my neighbors in Town - they live directly across from me in Grosvenor Square - and with Lord and Lady Salisbury. And I have two good friends who are a part of the Bennet family."

Elizabeth wondered who the second friend might be, and her curiosity was answered when his aunt inquired, "And who might these friends be?"

"The first, of course, is Charles Bingley-"

"Oh yes, your friend who is to marry the elder sister."

"Yes. Mr. Bingley is one of my closest friends, as well as one of the best men I know, and is soon to become my brother, as well. The second is Lord Malden, whom I believe you have met," he concluded. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen Elizabeth's countenance brighten at his praise of her brother, then an expression of 'Oh!' followed by a stifled grin when he mentioned her cousin, the viscount.

Lady Catherine was very satisfied with the conversation, and she asked Elizabeth a number of questions about her relations, and asked for descriptions of Cassiobury and Ambleside, and in turn described Matlock and Pemberley in the warmest terms. "I am sure that you will be very pleased by Pemberley, my dear. It is much less formal than Rosings, but I feel that I know you well enough to see that this will suit you perfectly. And the grounds are, I must admit, even more beautiful than my own." This admission brought a sincere smile to the face of her nephew, which in turn brought a warm smile for him, from his aunt.

She continued, "Does your father plan to enlarge Longbourn Manor? Perhaps I have been misinformed, but I am under the impression that it is a rather small house. With such a close family, having enough room for everyone to visit must be very desirable."

Darcy interjected here, "The house is quite comfortable. It is in a somewhat older style, and it does not have the large public rooms that are fashionable, but the family wings are quite spacious - there are rooms for, I would venture, 15 guests?" he asked, turning to Elizabeth.

"Actually, the family plus 20 guests can be put up, since the guest wing, where Mr. Collins stayed, has 5 rooms. We can house more people than we can comfortably seat at dinner, or after. Papa has been looking about for something larger, as his sentimental attachment to Longbourn is such that he does not wish to rebuild, and he says that the character of the house would be damaged by any further enlargement. Mama is now encouraging him most strongly, as she says that, 'There must be enough room for all my grandchildren, nieces, and nephews to visit at the same time,' and she recently threatened to purchase property and build the house herself, if he fails to act. So they should have a new home within a few years."

"Perhaps Netherfield would suit?" asked Darcy. As an aside to his aunt, he added, "That is the largest home in the area, about three miles from Longbourn. The property has mostly been sold off, and currently Bingley is leasing the house, and what remains of the farms. Father Bennet has been helping him with improvements, as the land has been neglected, and the tenants are starting to be in a bad way, and without his counsel and local connections, Bingley could easily have spent far more in relieving the situation than he would recoup on rents."

"Mama and Papa have considered it, but it is not quite what is needed, and the biggest problem is that the heirs are in grave financial difficulties and unrealistically hope to sell the property for a large enough sum to...I am not sure what they hope, but they are asking far more than it is worth."

Charlotte added, "Netherfield Hall is well situated, though, and the park around it was a beautiful place when I was a child, before the current owners inherited. Much could be made of the property in hands of people like your parents. The Bennets have marvelous taste, and are very inventive. The gardens at Longbourn are not large, but they are among the most charming I have ever seen," she concluded with a mild blush.

As it was clear that Mr. Collins was drawing breath to say something inappropriate, Darcy jumped in with, "I can see, even though I have not had the opportunity of viewing them at their peak, that you are entirely correct, Mrs. Collins. I hope to get their advice on some changes I have contemplated at Pemberley, when they visit this summer."

It became time to begin preparing for dinner, and the carriage was ordered to take the guests home. As soon as it began to roll, Mr. Collins began making critical remarks about 'his cousin' and her behavior toward his 'dear patroness.' "She was very impertinent, my dear. Putting herself forward in that manner-" His wife interrupted, "My dear, Lady Catherine is obviously very pleased with Elizabeth. What would surely be impertinent for a guest is perfectly acceptable for a member of the family."

"But Lady Catherine feels that the distinctions of rank should be preserved. To answer her as my cousin did-"

"If Lady Catherine is not displeased, who are we to judge? And you must recall that Mrs. Bennet's rank is equal to that of even Lady Catherine-"

"My dear, please! That is most inappropriate."

"But Lord Shelbourne does rank above Lord Matlock, so she is superior by birth, and her uncle, Lord Cumberland, is before even Lord Stafford in precedence. I know this from the study of Debrett's that you insisted that I make."

Mr. Collins sputtered and was silent for a time, but then began again. "She should not have been so forward with Mr. Darcy. He was always intended for Miss de Bourgh."

"Mr. Collins, I have known Elizabeth her entire life, and she would never have behaved improperly. The fact that Mr. Darcy has engaged himself to my friend, and that his aunt is obviously delighted by this, should be more than enough to please you. And do you feel that it is appropriate for you to criticize the behavior of someone of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's illustrious connections?"

This finally silenced her husband, who reflected that having a cousin - as he thought of her - with two earls and a marquess for uncles was certainly not a bad thing. And he began to realize that it would be very unwise to antagonize a relation of unexpectedly great rank and wealth - especially as Lady Catherine was so pleased with her.

The visit continued much as it began. After all the excitement and activity surrounding their engagements and the preparations for their joint weddings, her time in Kent, with long afternoons spent in the company of, variously, Charlotte, her new cousins, her betrothed, and her aunt, was restorative. Her friend's practicality, good sense, and calm manner were restful, and Charlotte's pleasure in Elizabeth's excellent match was heartwarming. It amused Elizabeth to see how well Charlotte managed her husband. Certainly Mr. Collins was a silly man, and a forceful reminder that marriage was not all felicity reinforced her personal satisfaction, but curiously, it was still reassuring to see how content her friend was. And apparently, after learning of her nephew's engagement, Lady Catherine had become less imperious, and both friendlier to Mrs. Collins, and less patient with Mr. Collins obsequies. She had also begun pressing Mr. Collins to change his primary loyalty to be to his flock, and she refused to hear private details of the lives of her tenants. As a result, even before the visit, and noticeably during it, Mr. Collins became calmer, and showed occasional signs of thinking of others - although Elizabeth was sure that he would never become reflective, or wise. Lady Catherine was able relieve her feelings about her rector without taking it out on him, because she and her new niece took delight in absurdities, and they shared many laughs at his expense after he left. But when together, Elizabeth was excessively diverted at times, as Mr. Collin's deference to his patroness had to be witnessed to be believed, and her aunt was very poor at hiding her feelings, and they were both frequently forced into coughing fits to cover their amusement at his behavior.

But through the visit, she became ever more comfortable with her new family, and the strangeness of being soon to marry William was gradually replaced by an eagerness to do so. Her aunt allowed them some time on their own, and the breathless kisses and caresses of their proposal and acceptance were repeated. Aunt Catherine even remarked, somewhat elliptically, about this aspect of the courtship, encouraging her niece to enjoy the moments, while still exercising restraint, and offering some (almost) shockingly encouraging reassurance about the pleasures of married life.

All too soon, it was time for Elizabeth and Darcy to return to Hertfordshire, and on this occasion, he was truly sorry to leave his cousin and aunt. But the weather was unusually mild, and Lady Catherine had begun a very friendly correspondence with Mrs. Bennet, expressing her delight at Elizabeth - which easily overcame any previous impressions her mother held - and the de Bourghs had been repeatedly invited to come for the wedding, as well. So they returned with Elizabeth, and stayed for nearly two months, and this first visit formed the basis for close friendships between the rest of the Bennet family and the de Bourgh ladies that lasted their lifetimes. The bond that formed between Anne and her 'Cousin Kitty' was especially strong, and became one of the most important relationships in both of their lives. And Aunt Catherine discovered that she quite enjoyed these 'upstart Bennets,' especially the father, whose strong personality and dry wit mirrored her dear, departed husband's.

Epilogue

Elizabeth and Darcy found that life together was as happy as they had hoped, although with two such personalities, it was quite tempestuous at first. Within a year of their wedding, she had presented her husband with an heir, Bennet James Edward Darcy, and within four years, another son and a daughter. In time, they had eight children, the last just after their 18th anniversary, all of whom gave their parents at least two grandchildren. Just as she had grown up in a family with 'many uncles,' her children were part of a large, warm, extended family that they saw often and loved much.

The new family proved beneficial to Darcy's relations as well. Richard Fitzwilliam was introduced to his future wife, a wealthy niece of Lord Essex, widowed in her mid-twenties by a husband very fond of fox hunting, and insufficiently careful of his own person, and some years later, Georgiana married the second son of Lord Salisbury. At her sisters' triple wedding, Catherine Bennet met Sir Lewis' nephew, Stephen de Bourgh, Bart., who had inherited the title - and to whom Rosings was entailed in the event of Anne having no children, and their friendship deepened during her extended visits to Rosings. Lady Catherine and Anne had all but adopted (the only remaining) Miss Bennet after Elizabeth's wedding, and when her new aunt saw the attraction between her niece and nephew, she forwarded the match, but with new-found subtlety. Two years to the day after Elizabeth's wedding, Catherine Bennet became the second Lady Catherine de Bourgh, much to the delight of the first. As a wedding present, Anne had worked with her uncle to turn over the estate to her cousin, but the newlyweds would only accept it on the condition that she and her mother remained there for as long as they wished. Anne and her mother did sometimes leave Kent, usually together, but occasionally separately, to travel to Hertfordshire to stay with one or another of their Bennet connections, or for short stays in London in the early summer months. Perhaps because of improvement in her family life, Anne lived into her fifties, and two days after she died, her mother relaxed her iron grip on life, and followed.

Mr. Collins and his wife remained at Hunsford, and with the attentions of his wife, and with a far less irascible patroness, he gradually became less obsequious; and although he was never clever, at least he was no longer a fool. As he felt less insecure in his position, and the worst of his nonsense was gently but firmly discouraged, he became a genial man, and gradually earned the trust of his flock. Charlotte found that she grew quite fond of him in time, and delighted her husband by presenting him with two sons, William and Lewis. Fortunately for the sons, their brains came from their mother, and Sir Stephen and his wife insisted on providing them with educations.

Bingley and Jane had been at Netherfield but two months when an estate near Hatfield became available. It was larger than Bingley could have afforded on his own, but using some of the assets of Jane's trust, it was readily acquired. Being less than five miles from her Aunt and Uncle Carlisle, only about 10 miles from her parents, and less than 15 from her Uncle Essex, made the location nearly ideal, although she did regret being so far from Elizabeth. To make up for this, Bingley sold his London house, and purchased one adjacent to Darcy House in Grosvenor Square, so that during their time in town, the beloved sisters were as close as possible. As for Netherfield, the Hall remained vacant after the Bingleys moved out, and the Harrington's agent, not having been paid in some time, neglected his duties. Squatters invaded the house, which was without servants or caretakers, and it burned to the ground almost immediately after. At this point, the Harringtons' situation became dire, and they moved abroad to avoid their creditors. Mr. Bennet purchased the Netherfield property - rechristened Bennet Park - from the receivers for a reasonable price, and built a very large, modern home on the site of the old Hall, so that his wife's requirements concerning visiting relations were finally met, in plenty of time for the christening of Catherine's first child. The entail on Longbourn was broken by the simple act of Tom celebrating his 21st birthday, and the property was reapportioned, leaving Ben delighted to inherit Longbourn, along with his share of the vast Gardiner and Bennet holdings.

Lest anyone feel too sorry for Lizzy, 'alone' in Derbyshire with her ever-growing family, adoring husband, and the nearby beloved and warmly affectionate Fitzwilliam relations - within 12 years the G&B Railroad had a line that went from Edinburgh to Brighton, and the trip from Pemberley to Bennet Park could easily be accomplished in a day, traveling in the comfort and luxury of a family car. And with the love and support of her husband, she produced a steady stream of brilliant innovations that allowed Gardiner Enterprises to grow ever larger and more profitable, to the benefit of their extended family, and the Kingdom. And while she never once arranged flowers, or saw to the linen, their lives were very comfortable, and if their domestic arrangements were quite unconventional, they, their eight children, and their many house-guests, found them entirely satisfactory.

The End