Page 14 of Chivalry & Chauvinism (The Victorian Vagaries #2)

After an enjoyable afternoon, Elizabeth and Mary returned to Pemberley House, took dinner in their rooms, and prepared for the ball they were to attend that evening. Kitty and Georgiana assisted and enjoyed helping Elizabeth and Mary select their jewels and accessories.

While the ladies were gone, Darcy went to his club for lunch. He often met Bingley there, though today he found his uncle, speaking with him at length about their struggles with Richard.

“This doesn’t surprise me, although we aren’t getting the entire story at Matlock House, mostly constant grumbling about Elizabeth learning her place,” said Matlock.

“He had better cease that immediately, or I shall cut ties with him without hesitation. Mary set him down in no uncertain terms this morning, and she has our full support,” replied Darcy.

“I had no idea it was so bad. His mother shall box his ears when she hears he has distressed Mary so terribly. That is if I do not box them first. I quite like Mary, and was counting on her for my new daughter. How could he have botched the matter so badly?” After hearing the full tale, the earl took his leave to speak with his countess and deal with his younger son.

Bingley turned up before Darcy left, and the pair shared a drink. He confided in Darcy that he had begun accepting Caroline’s letters at the encouragement of Jane, whose forgiving (and perhaps selectively) angelic nature made him wish to do better by his sister. Darcy raised a brow at this description of the icy Mrs Bingley, but listened as Bingley confessed his sister wished to come stay in London and attempt to put serious effort into finding a husband. Though Jane was amenable, Bingley was reluctant to put any strain upon Jane when she was still in distress about falling with child.

“I take it that Mrs Bingley has not taken your word regarding your devotion and her security no matter the circumstance?” Darcy asked delicately.

Bingley related that Jane was still struggling with hopes and expectations in that area, and had not been able to compose herself on the subject. “I hesitate to bring Caroline here at such a time. More tension can hardly be conducive to Jane’s hopes,” Bingley confided.

“I quite agree with you. Perhaps, since Mrs Hurst has been so well since her confinement, she would have Miss Bingley visit somewhere rather quieter, perhaps Bath? Mrs Bingley’s peace would not be disturbed, and Miss Bingley would be able to mix with a more varied society,” Darcy suggested.

Bingley thought that an excellent idea, and went straight home to send a letter to Mrs Hurst. He would pay for a fashionable house in Bath if his sister and her husband would chaperone Caroline there.

*****

Returning home later in the day, Darcy ate dinner from a tray in his apartment as he prepared for the ball, hearing the ladies giggling in the rooms beyond. It was a sound he loved hearing. The happiness of his wife and sisters’ laughter, and joy ringing throughout the house. It was everything he had ever hoped to find for himself and Georgiana, and his and Elizabeth’s family made him very happy indeed. And they had not even had a child yet. He could not imagine being happier than he was now, and, somehow, he was sure he soon would be.

When Elizabeth and Darcy were ready, Georgiana and Kitty retired to Georgie and Mary’s sitting room. It was not uncommon for the younger girls to sleep in each other’s rooms, staying up giggling into the night whenever Elizabeth, Darcy, and Mary were out late at balls. Charlotte was always at home with them but on such nights, Elizabeth, still not entirely accustomed to the security of being married, insisted upon having Miss Carmichael and several extra guards on duty, not only at every entrance to the house, but also extra footmen throughout the halls. Hopkins slept in Georgie’s dressing room to ensure the ladies’ safety and well-being while their elders were out.

They arrived at the Montclair’s ball and met Lord and Lady Matlock in the ballroom when they had passed through the receiving line. Mary had barely a moment to bob a curtsy in greeting to the countess and the earl before a gentleman came and asked her for the first set. When Elizabeth nodded, Mary embraced the countess, and said she hoped to speak with her this evening, then took the gentleman’s hand and allowed him to lead her to the floor.

Mrs Annesley determinedly took up watch at the side of the ballroom and Elizabeth allowed her husband to lead her to the floor. As they whirled about in the dance, she observed Richard enter the ballroom behind Antony and Arabella with Anne upon his arm. She nodded to Will, who looked over and saw them as well. “I do hope they can get along tonight,” Elizabeth remarked.

“I cannot imagine Richard causing a scene; of course, I cannot imagine him doing many things, blushing for instance, and he has very lately surprised me a number of times,” replied Will. “We shall have to watch them carefully.”

When the dance was over Elizabeth made her way to the back of the ballroom where she could watch Mary in between her sets, while conversing with her friends among the other society matrons. Elizabeth must dance at each event, but being a married woman, did not need to feel compelled to dance every set. She would dance no more than one third of the sets, and she and Darcy, who would dutifully dance with their hostess and Mary, as well as whichever matrons and wallflowers Elizabeth indicated were appropriate, had arranged that other than the important dances, they would not dance at the same time, allowing the one not dancing to add their eyes to Mrs Annesley’s. Even Lady Matlock, who felt slightly responsible for what had happened to poor Mary at her ball, spent much of the night watching to ensure Mary’s safety.

As she joined Mrs Annesley by the side of the dance floor, Richard approached her. “Miss Bennet, would you please reserve the supper set for me?” he asked humbly. Mary appraised him coolly. The supper and final sets were their previously agreed upon sets for each ball, but she appreciated that he did not assume that she would wish to dance with him after their words that morning.

“Thank you Mr Fitzwilliam. I will,’’ she answered aloofly. Richard bowed, and left Mary to accept the dances she wished to accept from the gentlemen who assembled. He did his best not to glower at them as he stalked away and leaned against a column near a spray of ferns.

“I hope you do not think you will stand here all night glaring at everyone while waiting for the supper set,” said his mother as she came up behind him. “You will do your duty while you wait for your set with Mary.”

“Mother, I am not in the mood,” glowered Richard.

“Son, that expression might have frightened your officers, but it has no effect upon me,” Lady Matlock said severely. “To begin with, you must do your duty by Anne. Then you will ask Lady Montclair’s daughter for a set, and that poor wallflower over there. The freckled thing with the stammer.” she indicated with a wave of her hand.

Richard looked at his mother in horror. “You want me to dance with Miss J_____? I would rather wear-”

“Do not dare say anything crude about a hairshirt or any other cruel remarks, Richard Henry Albert Fitzwilliam. You are a kind and good-natured man who has the ability to put ladies at ease. Or,” she turned to him. “So I thought.”“

“No one knows how to put Miss J_____ at ease,” he objected.

“That may be true, but you are a good man, and you can be kind enough to ask her to dance and to treat her gently, which may inspire other gentlemen to do the same. Now, please?” she said as she turned and walked away. Richard suffered through the dances she instructed of him. He did see his mother’s point. Having no desire to distress Miss J_____, he was exceedingly kind, and did not expect her to converse, which seemed to make her feel easier. He made a few pleasant comments of the sort that did not require much response, and he felt that the lady may have actually enjoyed the set, which made him feel quite chivalrous.

His disposition had actually improved until the set just before the supper set, when he observed Mary dancing with Lord Rutherford. Blast it all to hell, why was the man dancing? And with Mary of all people? Rutherford never danced. Richard had not even been sure that he could. His countenance darkened as he saw Mary’s cheerful expression. The set ended and Mary’s expression faded as she left the dance floor and saw his countenance. Her mouth immediately set into a grim line and she showed no pleasure at his appearance.

When the time for their set came, Mary took his arm and they took to the floor. Elizabeth and Darcy were both occupied on the dance floor with other partners, doing their duty to their hostess, but they observed that Mary and Richard appeared to speak little and were not enjoying each other’s company. They were obliged to dine with their dance partners, but Elizabeth and Darcy watched the couple, and they barely spoke beyond a few irritable exchanges at the beginning of the meal. Mary spoke mostly to Mrs Annesley, who was on her other side at the table.

By the time the meal ended, Mary looked positively miserable, and dragged Mrs Annesley over to Elizabeth and Darcy, who had joined each other in coming over to her. “Lizzy, may we go home? I cannot bear to be here for the last set,” said Mary.

“We can if you insist, dearest, but since you just left Lady Matlock’s ball early on Friday, I think you should stay to avoid talk. What if Richard left, and you need not dance with him again? Would you be able to regain your composure?

“I could, but it isn’t fair to expect him to leave,” said Mary. She shot a glance across the ballroom in his direction.

“On the contrary, as a gentleman, if Richard has discomposed you, it is his obligation to withdraw or lose his honour,” interjected Will. “I shall see to it.”

Elizabeth found that Mary had no partners for the next two sets, and when gentlemen came requesting, Elizabeth rebuffed them, saying that while Miss Bennet may dance later, she had planned to sit out the next sets with friends. When Elizabeth escorted Mary and Mrs Annesley over to Lady D______, Lady O__________, and the Duchess of St I___, none of the gentlemen dared say a word about Mary denying them and dancing with another later. Mary was grateful for the chance to sit and regain her composure under the protective company of the dragon dowagers of the ton. Like Elizabeth, she liked them all immensely, and was grateful for their kind acquaintance and friendship. Despite their ages, she always had a great deal of fun when she spent time among them. They always made the most outrageous speeches, and they were so much more interesting than the rest of society.

Darcy cornered Richard. “Cousin, I do not even wish to know how you have distressed Mary again, but she is asking to go home. Elizabeth does not believe she should leave early, considering that she did so last week at your mother’s ball.”

“So you are asking me to leave then. I might as well. There is nothing for me here, it appears,” said Richard angrily. He made his way over to Mary, protected amongst the ladies of society, including his mother, and made his goodbyes. “Miss Bennet, thank you for your company, and I apologise if my disposition has made you uncomfortable.”

“Mr Fitzwilliam, I thank you for the dance and your company at supper, but for now I believe it would be better if we did not have pre-arranged sets for every ball. I welcome you to call upon me or to ask me for a set, but we have recently learned some things about one another’s dispositions, and I feel I would like to understand you better before we commit ourselves any further,” Mary said in a brittle manner. Richard paled, bowed, and took his leave.

Lady Matlock had noticed the couple’s strained conversation over supper, and felt the need to sit by Mary and take her hand. “I do not want you to feel any pressure from the family, my dear, regarding my suddenly and inexplicably barbarous son. You must do what is right for yourself, and no one will resent you for it. We are your family, regardless.” Mary misted up and embraced the countess, and thanked her for her kindness.

*****

Darcy followed Richard outside and said, “For God’s sake man, what is wrong with you? A man attempts to compromise your lady, and all of a sudden you become an utter lunatic! I am losing my patience and so is everyone else!”

“Darcy, I cannot help it. Suddenly I am enraged by every man who looks at her, and seeing her with Rutherford, who was here to protect her when I was not, drives me nearly mad. I cannot forgive myself for not being here when she needed me. All I can think of is marrying her and getting her to Rosings where nothing bad will ever happen to her again. Since it happened, I have had the most dreadful nightmares each night. The same as the one I have of losing my friends in battle, but in this one I lose Mary as well, and I cannot protect her. I have not slept properly since we returned from Kent,” Richard said, agony evident in his voice..

“Have you spoken of this to Mary? Have you tried speaking to her, instead of acting like a deranged brute when she dances with someone else?” asked Darcy.

Richard spoke so quietly, Darcy could barely hear him, “Darcy, I do not know how to fix it.”

Darcy looked at him with sympathy. “I can understand that. I muddled things with Elizabeth badly the first time I proposed, and it was months before I could make it right. Indeed, I could not even make a beginning toward mending my mistakes until I asked Georgie for help.”

Richard looked astounded. “You asked your little sister for advice on courting?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching despite his anguished mood.

“I began confiding in her after the event with Wickham,” answered Darcy seriously. “Her confidence was shattered. So I began, under Elizabeth’s advice, to confide many of my worries and concerns to her. Matters to do with the estate, or the household that I might not otherwise have shared with her before, and allowed her to tell me her ideas. She learned that I trusted her, and to trust me in return, and I learned that my sister is a surprisingly adept problem solver. Later, when I was at my wits end on how to proceed with Elizabeth, I poured out my concerns and my misdeeds to Georgie in a letter, and begged her to advise me, for she was surely more aware than I on how a lady might wished to be approached when courting, as proven by my miserable result.”

Richard looked as if his cousin might be describing juggling pineapples upon the moon, as Darcy continued. “It was humbling to be chastised for ungentlemanly conduct by my younger sister, who had always thought me so perfect. She claimed to have insufficient experience to advise me properly on the topic, but the bit of advice she did give put everything into perspective.”

“What was it?” Richard asked.

“She instructed me to approach Elizabeth with the same respect, consideration, and affection that I would expect a man to show if he were to be courting Georgie herself. I was dismayed indeed to realise how far short of that I had fallen,” said Darcy. “Cousin, I had planned to advise you to ask Georgie for advice. But really, I think you should speak to Mary yourself, and tell her everything you have told me. I know you have told her of the nightmares. You have described to me her kindness and understanding. Surely she would understand, and try to help you work past such feelings.”

“If a man treated Georgie like I have behaved towards Mary, I would have dragged him outside and beaten him,” said Richard despairingly. “God, how could I?”

“That is just how I felt, and I managed to mend it. Love makes fools of us all. I am sure it can be fixed, Cousin. We are all imperfect, and I found that it was only by devoting myself to gaining the affection of a woman worthy of being pleased that I became the man I was always meant to be,” said Darcy. “If you would only apologise to Mary, and let her help you. These concerns you keep bringing up, such as the marriage settlement, are not negotiable, and Mary will not go against her sister. Mary has a firm resolve, and I think she has come to agree with Elizabeth’s sentiments, foreign as they may appear to you as they once did to her. But she is not headstrong or willful. You realise that Elizabeth is different from Mary after being widowed and unprotected these last years. Mary might never have any need to go against you, but you should be grateful that she has learned from her sister to keep her head in a crisis, as you described to me after Elizabeth was kidnapped by Wickham. Just because Mary does not need the settlement or the freedoms it gives her, does not mean she ought not have them anyway.”

“Ruthless,” said Richard. When Darcy raised a brow, he continued. “That’s the term I used to describe her after the incident in Kent with Wickham. Your wife is completely ruthless.”

“And I quite like her that way,” Darcy smiled. “Cousin, go home, go to bed, and call on Mary tomorrow. This time, open your heart to her. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

Richard, after nodding and placing his hand briefly on his cousin’s shoulder, left, preferring to walk home. After spending a half hour on the terrace getting some air, Darcy returned to the ballroom. He found his wife with her friends as Mary danced with another gentleman. He and Mrs Annesley kept an eye on Mary from separate ends of the room while Elizabeth danced the next set, and the following set he danced with a Mrs H___, the wife of a tradesman who was now quite influential, and had the sponsorship of Lord W________.

Darcy knew Elizabeth had minor investments in the same industries that she wished to expand significantly. Elizabeth and Mr Montague had begun negotiations to invest heavily in those industries, and it was prudent to become cordial with both men and their wives. Lord W________ was several years older than he, but the man had an impeccable reputation. Mrs H___’s husband glared at him from the edge of the room, but Darcy nodded politely, hoping the clearly jealous man would see that Darcy had no designs upon his admittedly very beautiful young wife.

Eventually, it was time for the last dance. Darcy noted that Mary did not dance, she sat with Mrs Annesley and Elizabeth’s friends while Darcy waltzed with his wife. Darcy had been prudent in ordering the carriage a half hour before the final waltz, and so when the dance finished, they were able to thank their hosts for a lovely evening and leave quickly.

On the carriage ride home, Darcy related that Richard might have gained some clarity, and perhaps might call upon her tomorrow after he had time for reflection. Mary seemed apprehensive of the idea, but Darcy insisted that he had great hopes that Richard could mend things with Mary, if he made the effort.

Looking at his wife, Darcy quoted, “what fools we mortals be,” and even Mary could not help but smile at her brother’s acknowledgement of a proud man’s ability to humble himself, as Darcy wondered whether his cousin could find it within himself do the same for the woman he said he loved.

*****

The next morning, Richard did not call. Instead, the Darcys received a note from him, stating a need for space to recall his composure, and begging their forgiveness for retreating to Windmere for a time. He sent to Mary his best wishes for her enjoyment of the season and her admirers, then took his leave of them. Mary said nothing, but she paled upon reading his missive with a trembling hand, then withdrew to her apartments and requested to be alone. Elizabeth attempted to speak with her, as did Georgiana and Kitty, but Mary insisted she did not wish to converse. After luncheon she sent a note stating she would miss the event they had planned to attend that night and requested a tray in her room. Darcy and Elizabeth sent their regrets to their hostess for bowing out at this late date, for Elizabeth did not think they should attend without Mary.

The following morning, Mary quietly joined the family for breakfast. Everyone sensed that Richard was not a welcome subject and avoided speaking of him. Over the next weeks, the Darcys participated in as much of the season as they had energy for. Elizabeth would not admit it, but she was struggling with her business affairs while trying to keep up with the social events, although having Timothy to assist Mr Banks was helpful. When she was a widow, she accepted a limited number of invitations, and usually did not stay out past supper. While she had been married before, they had participated in events, but not as many as now, due to Sir Christopher’s work, and she also had less business then. It did not matter to Mary if they attended every event, but after their elevation, Elizabeth and Darcy felt they must give a proper effort so that when Elizabeth started breeding, they would already have established themselves in their new rank in the ton, and could abandon their social obligations, at least temporarily.

Elizabeth exchanged letters with Granny Rose and her cousins throughout the season. Elizabeth enjoyed corresponding with each of them. Elinor had taken up visiting the tenants in Elizabeth’s absence, and Marianne gave pianoforte and French lessons to Margaret and Evie in Georgiana’s absence. Mr Mason was officially in charge of Margaret’s lessons, and Aunt Josephine was bearing up well after the loss of her husband. She was making friends among the genteel ladies of Lambton, who had kindly visited her just as they had Charlotte. Elizabeth received a letter one morning from Granny Rose, informing them that the Viscount St Claire had happened upon Marianne one day when she and Margaret were caught in a rainstorm, and Marianne twisted her ankle.

Granny Rose reported that the viscount carried Marianne back to Pemberley, and had called several times since, showing every indication of courting Marianne in earnest. She assured Elizabeth that she had warned Mrs Dashwood that the young man might not be very steadfast, and was known to be fickle with young ladies. However, the man himself was so charming that Mrs Dashwood could not comprehend her warning. In response, Elizabeth wrote to Mrs Dashwood and the two older young ladies an account of the man’s dealings with Kitty the previous year. Elizabeth knew that at least Elinor was sensible and ought to be able to dampen her mother and sister’s enthusiasm for the young nobleman. Elizabeth was surprised he was in Derbyshire at all, for he was only known to visit his estate in the summer.

Granny Rose responded before the other ladies, informing Elizabeth that her letters caused Marianne and Mrs Dashwood considerable distress. The two ladies refused to believe the claims, storming into their rooms and wailing for the rest of the day. Elizabeth felt great sympathy for Granny Rose and Elinor, putting up with such theatrics. She wrote to the ladies again, inviting them to London for the family’s last two weeks in town, so they could order wardrobes for half mourning, and join the family in Brighton for the summer. The end of the season was coming soon, and Elizabeth hoped that by distracting the ladies with a holiday, they might give less attention to the viscount, or as Kitty still called him, Willoughby. Elizabeth could only imagine how it would play out when Kitty learnt he had been courting Marianne. She could only hope the revelation might make Kitty see sense, but somehow she doubted it.

She planned to send Timothy, now formally Mr Wilson among all of the staff, to Pemberley to escort the ladies. She made sure to use him as a messenger several times over the season, so the man might have an opportunity to visit his son. He had brought the boy a copy of Robinson Crusoe. Mr Mason had written to Wilson that the boy found the book exceedingly interesting, and that Mr Mason had encouraged him to discuss it with his father. Wilson had written to Edmund and had related his favourite passages from the novel, and had asked Edmund what he had thought of them. Edmund had eventually written back, and they were corresponding regularly now. Wilson was encouraged by this and the reports he received from Mr Mason and Mrs Hayes.

Elizabeth congratulated him on the matter, and instructed him to bring the boy along to Brighton when he escorted the ladies. Elizabeth felt guilty letting the boy work at all at such a young age. She only allowed him to work a few hours a day because Wilson would see it as charity otherwise. She would have the boy work three hours every other day in Brighton, and otherwise ensure that Wilson had ample time to spend with him before they returned to Pemberley. Normally such notice would not be paid to a servant and his child, but now as Elizabeth’s deputy steward, Wilson was a member of the senior staff, and entitled to at least one particular advantage.

Mary continued to refuse to speak of Richard. To Elizabeth and Darcy’s knowledge, they had not sent each other any letters, nor had Darcy received any response to his letters to him. Richard responded once to Georgie, informing her of his safe arrival in Kent, and giving her a brief description of the work being done on Rosings. Georgiana shared the letter with her brother and Elizabeth privately, and they all agreed not to mention it to Mary.

Mary was being quietly courted by Lord Rutherford. Elizabeth could see her struggle internally on the matter. She enjoyed the man’s conversation and society greatly, though she pined for Richard. Elizabeth did not think she was prepared to be romantically courted by another; however, she did not refuse the man’s attentions.

Lord Rutherford was known to be reserved and reclusive, but once he decided to court a lady, the man did not beat about the bush. Nearly every day, he called bearing stunning hothouse flowers to discuss literature, theology, and many other subjects. He and Mary walked and drove in the park, visited the museums; his lordship had planned an outing for their entire family to Richmond Park, and an evening at Covent Garden. Rutherford actually stirred an elderly aunt from the country to serve as his hostess for a dinner party. He attended every ball they went to and danced the first with her at each event. Elizabeth noted Mary still would not dance the supper or final sets with anyone, sitting them out with the dragon dowagers in Richard’s absence.

Darcy watched as the serious man ran circles around his and Richard’s clumsy and boorish attempts at courtship. In a fair world, he would win Mary, and would be deserving of her as well. But Darcy suspected Mary was still in love with Richard. Indeed, he had tried to flush his cousin out by writing to him about Rutherford’s persistence. Darcy told his cousin he would not be able to discourage the match if Richard did not return and assert his interest again. He expected that to bring Richard racing back to town, but all he received for his trouble was more silence.

Elizabeth finally insisted that Mary sit and speak with her privately one afternoon. “Dearest, I know you do not wish to discuss it, but Lord Rutherford is certain to propose soon. In order to support you in your decision, I was wondering if you had considered what your answer would be yet.”

“I believe that I should accept him, do you not?” asked Mary

“Not when you put it like that, you should certainly not. Why on earth do you believe you ought to accept him? You ought not accept anybody unless you desperately wish to,” Elizabeth asked.

“Lizzy, we have so much in common. I believe he will make me an excellent husband, do you not?”

Elizabeth looked long and hard at Mary and stated, “He would make you an excellent husband, dearest. But you do not love him.”

Mary’s eyes spilled over with tears. “Perhaps I could learn to love him. I respect and esteem him greatly. Could love not grow?”

“I am sure it could. And likely even would, Mary. But I would not accept so soon on the whim that love might grow, particularly when I know you respect and admire him but doubt that there is a kernel of love and affection for him as a man. You need not give him an answer right away if you are not ready. You can ask for more time to consider. The right gentleman will give you all the time you need to make your decision. But you must know you cannot marry him if you still have feelings for Richard. It would be wrong, Mary. And it would ruin both of your lives. All three of your lives, in fact,” Elizabeth said comfortingly.

“Lizzy, Richard is not here,” Mary said bitterly.

“I wish he were. He ought to be. Darcy said Richard confided in him the night of the Montclair’s ball. He would not reveal it to me, as it had been told to him in confidence, but he did say he believed that if Richard would open his heart to you, it would make everything better,” responded Elizabeth. “Do not feel as if you must settle this before the end of the season. There is no pressure for you to marry this year. Do not allow yourself to be rushed, Mary.”