Page 38 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Lydia’s Bedchamber
Parsonage at Kympton
“Mr. Darcy wishes to marry you ?” Mrs. Lydia Wickham demanded incredulously.
Elizabeth finished pouring tea for her sister, added milk and sugar, and handed the cup over before she saying, “Yes, he does.”
“But he insulted you!” Lydia exclaimed indignantly.
“He has apologized for that,” her sister replied. “Obviously he ought not to have said it, but he was hardly looking at me at the time, and he was tired and out of sorts from traveling that day. And more to the point, I have entirely forgiven him. Drink your tea, Lydia.”
Lydia did so eagerly, and when she had drained her cup dry, Elizabeth poured another cup and extended a plate of bread and butter, which her sister accepted with alacrity. They had discovered that the symptoms of pregnancy were ameliorated by frequent small meals and plenty of liquids, and Elizabeth made certain that Lydia was fed and watered early and often.
“Do you love him, Lizzy?” Lydia asked after a few silent minutes, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush.
“I am not confident that I love him,” she said carefully, “but I respect and admire him very much. I think it likely that I will accept his offer, but I wish to speak to him about important matters about his expectations for his bride. He is, as master of a truly grand estate, able to reach far higher than me in his search for a wife. I would not want to accept his offer and discover that he desires more than I am willing or able to give.”
Lydia frowned at these words and, after thinking it over carefully, said, “I suppose you would need to oversee many servants, and help look after the tenant farmers’ families. Also, Miss Darcy is still young and is not yet out, and perhaps you would need to go to parties with her in London, which sounds like fun to me, but you are not used to that.”
For Lydia, this was an incredibly cogent and powerful piece of reasoning, and Elizabeth found herself gazing at her sister in genuine wonder. “That is exactly it. If Mr. Darcy wishes to take me as his wife, he must recognize that I do not have friends or connections in the haut ton. Moreover, we need to speak of the Gardiners. I love my uncle and aunt and would never be willing to give up their acquaintance.”
Lydia nodded solemnly. “I understand. I have another question, however. What about Mamma? You know she will be most displeased at your marrying when you are the heiress of Longbourn.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I am not concerned about that. It may sound unkind, but Mamma’s fears are entirely unreasonable, and I will not allow her nerves to keep me from a good match. Father told me and Jane some months ago that he would not permit Mamma to keep us from marrying.”
“I wish he had told me that too,” Lydia said mournfully. “Part of the reason I ran away was that Mamma said that if I was the heiress, and she would live with me forever, and I would never marry. And I did not want that.”
Elizabeth shook her head and said, “I am sorry, Lyddy. I wish Father had told you or that I had, but it did not occur to me…”
She trailed off and Lydia said, “That I would run off like a fool? It was an immoral, stupid thing to do, and now I am paying for it.”
Elizabeth’s own concerns were instantly washed away in a stream of worry over her young sister. “My dear! Are you so very unhappy in your marriage?”
Lydia moaned and said, “I am not unhappy in my marriage because Alexander is wonderful. I just feel sick still in the evening, which is better than all day, but I am tired of it.”
“It should pass entirely soon enough, dear one,” Elizabeth said.
“I hope so,” her sister grumbled.
***
On the Road to Pemberley
The Next Day
A hot brick on the floor warmed the air and fought the damp that tried to pervade the carriage. Rain pattered on the roof, the horses' hooves churning the dirt of the road to mud. Elizabeth rather pitied the coachmen and the two footmen who clung drenched to the outside of the carriage. It seemed a trifle much, she thought, to send so many people to fetch her a mere five miles, but it showed a tender consideration she deeply appreciated. Certainly she was grateful for the Darcy carriage being sent to pick her up, snug and dry and cozy as it was. She was grateful, too, for the neatly dressed maid assigned by Alexander to keep her company on the short journey, and she took a moment to smile at the girl before looking out the window.
The view beyond the rain-spattered glass was uninspiring. The clouds roiled, heavy and pewter-gray and scowling hideously with the threat of more rainfall. But the forests, rain-lashed as they were and wearing tendrils of mist, were as majestic as always, with the mists adding a flavor of almost Gothic mystery.
“Pemberley is truly incredible,” Molly said suddenly, and Elizabeth turned her eyes on the girl.
She was scarcely older than Lydia, perhaps seventeen years of age, though far more industrious than her mistress was wont to be. Her brown eyes were keen, and Elizabeth reflected, with a stab of chagrined amusement, that the maid was almost certainly aware of Mr. Darcy’s request for a courtship as servants always seemed to know that sort of thing.
“It is remarkable,” Elizabeth agreed sedately, “both the mansion and the lands. Have you ever been on Pemberley land before?”
“No, but my cousin Beryl is a kitchen maid at Pemberley, so she has told me all about it.”
“Does she like her work?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh yes, very much!” Molly replied, “and…”
Elizabeth smiled as the girl prattled on. All of her talk of Pemberley was secondhand, of course, filtered through the scullery maid Beryl. But that was itself a hopeful sign, Elizabeth reflected, as the girl waxed enthusiastic about Mr. Darcy's famed generosity. He and his sister were kind to their servants, such that even a kitchen maid was well-pleased with her employment. Many people, she knew, found it easy or expedient enough to be pleasant with their peers but held the lower classes in disdain. The Bennets’ neighbors in Meryton were not much prone to such behavior, but Miss Bingley had been rude and impatient to her underlings. It was charming to hear yet another tale of Mr. Darcy's kindness and scrupulous responsibility towards his dependents.
Not that Elizabeth was surprised. She was keenly aware of how he had given of his time and his strength and his wealth when so many of his tenants lay ill. But she found pleasure in every anecdote provided by a warm-voiced, grateful servant or farmer.
The crunch of gravel beneath the wheels fell silent, and the carriage swayed to a stop. Elizabeth put aside the rug on her lap as the door opened, and a white-gloved hand reached in to hand her down. Elizabeth exited into a surprising lack of rain and looked up in surprise to see Mr. Darcy himself, looking solemn and handsome in a black coat, standing beside her, one hand supporting a long umbrella pole. He inclined his head to her. “Welcome to Pemberley, Miss Bennet,” he said and extended his free arm to her.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said and accepted the proffered arm. They ascended the steps together, and the butler swung the door open as they attained it and accepted the wet umbrella from his master. A maid took from Elizabeth her gloves and hat, which were still delightfully dry thanks to the heavy oilskin of the umbrella.
Mr. Darcy turned to his guest and offered his arm once more. “Shall we, Miss Bennet?”
She followed him down the corridor to a small door that he swung open to reveal a comfortable sitting room. A fire roared in the fireplace directly across from the door, filling the room with a welcome heat. A small table sat between the two wingbacks drawn up before the hearth, a few books on it in a stack. Another door along the adjacent wall stood ajar, the sounds of a sonata expertly played on a pianoforte trickling through and betraying it as the music room.
Mr. Darcy gestured to the chairs beside the fire. “Please, do sit down,” he invited and followed her over to take the chair adjacent to her. Elizabeth stretched out her hands towards the fire, grateful for the heat on her skin. The door to the corridor was closed behind them, propriety ensured by the open door to the music room. But with the musician not visible from where Elizabeth sat, the whole tableau felt warmly intimate and cozy. She glanced at her companion beside her, who was staring at her intently.
“I hope you are well this morning?” he asked.
She felt her cheeks warm at his close observation, and said, “I am very well, thank you, very well indeed. Now, Mr. Darcy, I am most grateful for your agreement to enter a courtship with me and believe we might be suited for marriage, but there are some areas of concern which I yearn to speak about; I do not wish to waste my time or yours if you have requirements for marriage, which I am unable to fulfill.”
He was silent for a moment, his expression solemn, and then he said, “Please ask whatever you desire.”
She swallowed and leaned forward slightly. “As you doubtless know, I have an uncle in trade who lives in Cheapside. His name is Mr. Gardiner, and he and my aunt are the proud parents of four children. I love them very much and would never enter a marital union if I am not permitted to invite them into my home.”
Darcy had started nodding partway through her speech, and when she was finished, he said, “I would never deny you the opportunity of spending time with your relations. I promise you that.”
She felt herself relax with relief, and she smiled. “I am glad. They are a wonderful couple. My uncle is very intelligent and hardworking, and my Aunt Gardiner is a refined, elegant woman with more sense in her little finger than many a lady has in her entire body. Interestingly enough, my aunt actually grew up in Lambton. Her father was the rector of the church there. She has fond memories of this area of Derbyshire and still maintains a correspondence with some of her old friends.”
“The daughter of the rector!” Darcy repeated in surprise. “Do you remember her maiden name?”
“Crampton,” Elizabeth replied immediately, and Darcy grinned and said, “Mr. Crampton! I do remember him, though not well, as I think he must have passed away before I was ten years of age.”
“I believe that is correct. My Uncle Gardiner is some years younger than his sisters, and my aunt is younger than he is, so she must be some years short of forty. If I am correct, she was roughly eighteen when her father died and she and her mother and siblings moved to London.”
“Has she been back since?”
“She has not, no, though I know she would like to return.”
“Perhaps they can visit Pemberley,” Darcy said.
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth agreed with a chuckle. “Now, I have given one of my requirements in marriage. Would you be willing to tell me what you want in a wife?”
“I want you ,” the gentleman said simply, and Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“Why?” she managed to ask after a moment. “You are, I know, one of the most eligible gentlemen in all of England, and I cannot imagine why you would choose me. And this is a serious inquiry. I do not wish for a panegyric of my finer points divorced from reality. Why do you admire me, from a rational perspective?”
“You desire rationality?” Darcy replied. “Is that not rather unusual when discussing affairs of the heart?”
“I do. If this is merely a matter of the heart, well, I will be frank that my father’s infatuation with my mother was based almost entirely on her considerable beauty, not her mind or character. The marriage has not been a happy one for either partner, and I do not wish for such a union for myself or my husband.”
Darcy’s brow smoothed, and he said, “That is reasonable and sensible.”
He was silent for a minute, obviously in contemplation, and then said, “To some degree, I cannot entirely explain it using my mind, as falling in love is not an intellectual exercise. However, I believe my admiration for you is based on far more than physical attraction. You are an unusual lady – intelligent, well read, clever and beautiful. Furthermore, you are lively, and there is a certain lightness that you carry with you wherever you go. More than that, I greatly respect your determination to be yourself, to speak as you truly believe, to not pander to me merely because I am an eligible gentleman.”
Elizabeth, while embarrassed at these accolades, found herself nodding in understanding. “I am not a member of high society, and have never attended a ball in London, but I have observed the enthusiasm of young men who pursued Jane when she was thought to be the heiress of Longbourn. Of course, Jane is everything good, but it was her fortune, not her person, that was so very attractive.”
“That is it exactly,” Darcy said with a sigh. “I lost my father about six years ago. Before that, I was certainly of interest to high born parents wishing to find a good match for their daughters. When he died and I inherited, I became of much greater interest. I understand that, but I also resent it. You have never pandered to me, Miss Bennet, and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that.”
She grinned and said, “That is a good thing if we are to make a match of it. I do my best to be kind to those around me, but I will not speak falsely to make others happy. I approve of your answer, Mr. Darcy, and now wish to ask one of my own. As you know, I am the heiress of Longbourn. If we wed, what will we do with that estate?”
“That depends very much on what you wish,” Darcy replied. “It is your family estate, after all.”
Elizabeth relaxed at these words and said, “That is very good of you, as I am well aware that many a husband would have firm beliefs about how to manage his wife’s estate. I have not thought a great deal about the matter since my father will, I hope, live many years longer, but I am determined that my mother will be able to live out her years at Longbourn, which is her greatest desire.”
“I am certain that can arranged in a way which will maintain the solvency of the estate while providing a safe haven for Mrs. Bennet…”
The conversation continued, and by the time Miss Darcy appeared in the room having finished her playing, Elizabeth felt far more at ease at the prospect of marrying this man, who obviously respected her mind and desires.