Page 59 of Lizzie’s Spirit

Darcy froze in confusion: had he never asked Elizabeth? When was her birthday?—he did not know! He stuttered. “You have me there—I’ve never asked her. Her age was never important; she was just Lizzie… beautiful, intelligent, womanly. Certainly womanly!”

“But here’s the crux of the matter: could Matlock have the marriage annulled? You, as a Barrister, know the law.”

Darcy stood and went to the door. “Please, some coffee and a pastry, whatever my father prefers.” He turned to his father.

“You’re correct. Likely, there’s none other than I who possesses a better understanding of how English law is applied in New South Wales.

Indeed, I was the law, with Macquarie’s full concurrence.

But Matlock is an earl with the ear of the Archbishop of Canterbury. We must tread very carefully.”

The coffee and pastries arrived. Once set down, the door was carefully closed behind the footman. Darcy began his exposition.

“I’ll list those points of law that are most pertinent. You may not be aware that the whole of English law does not apply to the colony. That Hardwicke’s Marriage Act of 1753, in particular, doesn’t apply; that any marriage solemnised beyond the seas is outside its reach.

“In particular, in New South Wales, a guardian’s permission is not required if both parties to the marriage are at least sixteen years of age, instead of the one and twenty years here; to be married, a couple need only affirm it, and then cohabit as man and wife.

In fact, such a common law marriage performed overseas, is deemed valid in this country.

But, I fear, Lord Matlock could have us tied in knots—very few understand the nuances of common law.

There’s much to consider. However, the following are the facts.

“Firstly, Elizabeth was certainly sixteen years old, but she may not have reached her majority. However, I was her guardian, having taken the role when Mr. Ellis Bent left the colony—obviously, I gave my consent to her marrying.”

“But, as guardian can you marry your ward? Surely there is some conflict?”

Darcy shrugged. “Indeed, Blackstone describes the relation between guardian and ward as bearing a very near resemblance to that between father and child. Some regard marriage between them as incest, though not expressly forbidden by law.

“St. Phillip’s Church, in which we were wed, was not consecrated until Christmas Day of the year ‘10—we were married prior to that on the 15th of May. In England, such would invalidate the marriage.

“Thirdly, the Rev. William Cowper, who married us, was ordained in the year ‘08; he was certainly qualified to conduct the ceremony; but, because he’s an extreme Evangelical, he may not have used the Form of Words prescribed in the Book of Common Prayer.

“Lastly, the ceremony was witnessed by over three hundred persons in the church; the register signed by Governor and Mrs. Macquarie themselves. That is in our favour. It goes without saying that Macquarie sanctioned the marriage.”

“Our difficulty,” said Darcy, after much thought, “is that, in the colony, the form of legal marriage was specified by orders of various governors, thereby nullifying common law. If so, we need to demonstrate that our marriage satisfied all such orders. But, in any case, they are likely to cling to Hardwicke’s Act.

Under English law, our marriage is certainly void because St. Phillip’s was not consecrated: that is enough for Matlock to carry the day.

Darcy slumped in his chair—either a judge or the archbishop could annul his marriage—there would be none to whom he could appeal—the House of Lords would not hear the case if it were set against a peer such as Lord Matlock.

“Is there anything we can do? We seem to be at an impasse, for certainly I shan’t give up Elizabeth.

Once you meet her, you’ll understand there’s no one in this country who is her equal.

” Darcy turned to his father, frustrated by the impossible position in which they were placed.

A silent gloom descended upon them. They could hear the tick of the mantel clock, the muffled sounds of carriages traversing Grosvenor Square.

“There is one way,” said the other, “if you were to marry immediately after Elizabeth returned to England, there would be no point to Matlock’s attempting to annul your prior marriage in the colony.“

Darcy sat up. “Of course, you’ve the right of it.

Elizabeth may be some months following. ‘Tis likely she’ll travel via India, a far longer journey.

And there was much to accomplish in finishing up our affairs in Sydney.

Let us speak of her reaching England some eight months from when I left—that is, by Michaelmas.

‘Tis not too long to keep our marriage secret.”

“And, until then, you must act—what shall we say—the coquet ,” Darcy senior laughed. “Fitzwilliam, you were once so reserved, I could not have contemplated your flirting with women. But has your Elizabeth taken you in hand, shown you how to flatter women, how to woo them, how to pleasure them?”

Darcy blushed. “I could flatter Felicity, maybe even Cousin Anne. But pleasure them? Never, sir! That is only between Lizzie and me, for propriety and my marriage vows would never allow otherwise.”

“Fitzwilliam, I did not mean pleasuring of that sort!” His father gave Darcy a wistful smile. “Though I must admit, I did enjoy the company of my darling Anne.” He paused, looking affectionately at his son.

“I owe you an apology; I never took the time to come to know you. You were always so serious. As I said, so reserved. Similarly, so was Frederick, but, as heir to Pemberley, he and I were necessarily together while he learned to manage the estate—and then came Georgiana… and my Anne passing.” Tears came to his eyes.

“I neglected you: your being away at school, at Cambridge, completing your articles as a barrister—and then to New South Wales. You make me so proud—you are lieutenant governor, vice-regal representative of His Majesty. Few men can say that! You did not rest easy on your allowance: you’ve become a great man—by application, by diligence, by hard work, by your will alone. ”

“I’ve heard that before, sir,” said Darcy softly, tears also moistening his eyes.

“Elizabeth spoke thus to me before we were wed.

She was being pursued by officers of the regiments.

I had the honour of her confiding in me both her distress and ambitions.

‘Twas shortly afterwards I recognised not only was she beautiful of form but also of heart and of mind. Oh, her smile would dispel all of the gloom that invades this room; it would spill out the windows and illuminate all of Grosvenor Square such as to make our neighbours think the sun had completely overarched the sky!”

***

Later that morning, his father having retired to the library to rest, Darcy quit the study, taking a cab to Jermyn Street, where the Darcy tailor kept his shop.

He was measured—having grown out of his apparel of four years ago—and promised at least one set of top coat, waistcoat, and breeches by the end of the week; further garments were to follow.

Darcy also ordered several pairs of trousers and pantaloons, as they were becoming more fashionable.

Together with stockings, gloves, walking stick, and new Hessians, he was ready to merge quietly into London society; few would recognise him after his four-year absence.

The distance being only a mile, he chose to walk back to the House in Grosvenor Square.

“Darcy, is that you!”

Startled, Darcy awoke from his reverie. “Bingley!” cried he, “how long since we were last together at Cambridge?”

“By my reckoning, more than ten years! I scarcely recognised you—you were tall then, but now you’re like a towering oak tree.”

Bingley possessed a pleasant countenance and easy, unaffected manners. To Darcy, he had not changed at all over the past decade. He was well dressed, wearing a fashionable blue coat and nankin pantaloons.

“Time seems to have favoured you, for you look exceedingly well.”

“Perhaps, but my parents passed some four years ago, so now I’m head of the family.

I would have preferred they lived, but the fates decreed otherwise.

You met my father—the best of men—and now I’ve inherited his fortune, with which he intended to purchase an estate but didn’t live to do it.

Thus, I’m looking to lease such, with a view to purchase.

Would you know of an estate with a good house within an easy distance of London? ”

“Indeed, he was a fine man. No, Bingley, I’ve been absent from England these past four years. I have no knowledge of estates, mansions, or great houses.”

“To the Americas? I’ve often wished to travel there.”

“No, much further than that. To New South Wales, where I’ve been putting to use my knowledge of the law.

” Darcy laughed; he had always enjoyed the company of Bingley, and this chance to renew their friendship was very welcome.

Between Bingley and Darcy there had been a steady friendship, in spite of a great opposition of character.

It would seem, thought Darcy, that a break of ten years had not disrupted this amity in the slightest.

“We lost contact after Cambridge, much to my regret. I suppose you returned to the north.”

“You’re quite correct—to assist my father. But we’ve moved away and are now resident in London. We stay with my brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, who has a house in Grosvenor Street—he married my sister, Louisa.”

“A sister married! They were but children when I visited your family… Was it in ‘02 or ‘03?”

“In ‘02, at the beginning of the Trinity term—my first term and your last but one. I do not recall the circumstance—was there some contact between your father and mine? You came to take me south after detouring fifty miles northwards—such was uncommonly good of you.”

“Bingley, there’s a lady who has the likeness of you standing by that carriage. Is she one of your sisters?”

“‘Tis Caroline, ten years old when you last met. Come, let me introduce you.”

Darcy was about to decline when he realised that if he were to carry off the coquet with cousins Felicity and Anne, then he should practice, at the very least, being civil and gracious to ladies, such as Miss Bingley.

He had observed, with some jealousy, how men upon being introduced to Elizabeth reacted with unfeigned admiration.

While he did not enjoy disguise, he believed he could display, if not the highest admiration, at least some partiality and approbation.

Miss Bingley considered herself a very fine lady; she was rather handsome, and had been educated in one of the best private seminaries in town.

Therefore, she felt entitled to think well of herself and meanly of others.

She saw her brother, Charles, talking to a large man, handsome to be sure, but with unfashionably long hair dressed in an ill-fitting jacket and trousers.

His tanned face made her assume he was a sailor, stevedore, or perhaps a merchant.

She waited impatiently for her brother to return and hand her into the carriage.

Thus she was singularly displeased when Charles made to introduce the man to her.

“Charmed, I’m sure.” She turned away, placing her slippered foot onto the step, forcing Bingley to assist her into the carriage. He cast an apologetic look at Darcy. “If you’re free, we can lunch at the club, Brooks's, on Thursday next?”

“Brooks’s? Certainly, I’ve a membership.”

That went well, thought Darcy wryly; perhaps more effort is required in the flattering …

Miss Bingley was not unattractive, but the peacock feathers swaying on her headdress distracted him such that he could not recall whether her hair was red or that was the colour of her bonnet.

Charles sported hair of a reddish tint, so he supposed the former.