Page 17 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)

“Yes. If you meet him now, perhaps dinner will go more smoothly than tea did yesterday. Although Walsh will not be intimidated into silence by intelligence or beauty. Send him up,” he said to the footman.

How could she be composed to meet Mr Walsh when Darcy called her intelligent and beautiful?

Mr Walsh was shown in, with a bright-eyed and earnest look. He was not tall, but broad-shouldered and in his thirties. He kept his great coat on, but it was open and she saw he was similarly attired as Darcy for fencing.

“Darcy, I had another thought. I could not rest until I talked it over with you.”

“First, allow me to present Miss Bennet.”

“Ah yes, the invalid from Herefordshire.” He gave her a quick look as he bowed. “A pleasure.”

“Hertfordshire,” Darcy corrected.

“And I was not an invalid there,” said Elizabeth, smiling at him. “ That is a recent development, and hopefully one that only lasts another week.”

“Indeed.” Mr Walsh sat and turned to Darcy. “What you said before your bout?—”

“I don’t disagree with you,” he interrupted. “But there is no changing my uncle’s mind.”

“We have to see an end to these pocket boroughs.”

Darcy gave him an emphatic look. “We ought to include Miss Bennet in our conversation.”

Mr Walsh turned to her and said patiently, “A pocket borough is owned by one man, a patron landowner who controls the voting rights.”

Elizabeth smiled as Darcy lifted his eyes.

He had clearly meant for him to shift the topic, not condescend to her.

“I may not vote, but I know what a pocket borough is.” Many large and middle-sized boroughs chose their representatives under the influence of neighbouring landed families.

The nobleman or landed gentry could use their local influence or their wealth through bribes to sway voters.

“I am sorry for assuming,” said Mr Walsh. “Then you know pocket boroughs are a disgrace.”

“They are,” Darcy agreed. “My neighbour, the Duke of Devonshire, has the power to nominate seven members of the House of Commons.”

“And there are too many others, like your uncle Lord Fitzwilliam, who has even more seats under his control. Unscrupulous men chosen by the owner are unanimously elected to represent the borough, with no other candidate, no opposition, no poll demanded.”

“You overestimate my influence over his lordship if you think I can sway him to behave differently.”

It looked to her that this was an old argument, and while one Darcy did not disagree with, it was one he did not wish to have again. To shift the subject from his uncle, she asked, “You have a deep interest in politics, Mr Walsh?”

“I intend to run for Parliament.”

He looked at Darcy, but before he could speak, she added, “We were just talking about fencing. There is probably a similarity between debating a topic and a fencing match. I understand you competed this morning as well?”

“Yes, and unfortunately, our friend Darcy bested me twice.”

“Perhaps it was because your thoughts were full of politics and your mind was not on the task at hand?”

Mr Walsh tilted his head. “You have a low opinion of men, ma’am, if you think I cannot do both.”

“Not at all. I just think every topic or task has its proper place. Sometimes, a message is diluted when it is presented at the wrong time.”

“There is never a wrong time to protect electoral rights. And Darcy, as a landowner and with an uncle who has several boroughs in his pocket, is in a position to influence change.”

Mr Walsh did not take the hint that a morning call while meeting a new acquaintance may not be the right time to discuss pocket boroughs.

She watched Darcy take a slow breath. “Our society is a complex system of interdependence and mutual obligation between property owners and their tenants. The landlord accepts responsibility for the social welfare of his tenants in return for his land being worked. It is not about power, or at least not only about power.”

“Not all landowners are so charitable,” Mr Walsh interjected, “and they expect something in return for their charity, like their vote.”

“ I expect nothing in return for it. I owe them rent deductions in times of distress, winter distribution of coal, provisions for widows and the aged and the needy, education and employment opportunities for their children. And in return, tenants owe rent and a degree of social deference. But not compliance with my political opinions.”

“Well, you are in the minority, and the threat of eviction might enforce that political compliance.”

“It would be misleading to regard that as a common grievance,” Darcy answered, his voice rising in impatience.

“I would imagine,” said Elizabeth, “some voters could be indifferent to the vote or they may feel obligated to vote the same as their landowner does, even if no threat was made. That speaks to the need to better educate tenants rather than outright deviousness by the landlord.”

“Precisely,” said Darcy. “I do not force my tenants to vote in any way.”

“Because you do not have an entire borough in your pocket,” insisted Mr Walsh. “But you do have influence over someone who does. Your uncle Lord Fitzwilliam has a family pocket borough of Malton, and your cousin was elected there a few years ago.”

“Not Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Darcy said to her. “His elder brother.” To Mr Walsh, he added, “And I have no influence over his lordship.”

There was a tightness in Darcy’s voice. He was feeling annoyed, so Elizabeth tried to change the conversation again. “I met the younger son the other day. Are you acquainted with him, Mr Walsh?”

“I am. A lively man, and despite his family’s politics, I like him. It was good of him to see you safely to Darcy’s house when you were knocked down.”

“Yes, it was shocking. I would not have fallen but for the ice, but those men should have stopped to make sure I was well.”

Mr Walsh nodded, then shifted his attention toward Darcy. “Your uncle abuses his power.” Darcy bowed his acknowledgment. “You must speak to him.”

Darcy looked like he would rather discuss anything else.

“My uncle is fond of me, but I cannot sway him. We need electoral reform,” he said, holding up a hand when Mr Walsh looked like he would argue, “but I am a child to him, with no title, no standing in Parliament, and a few thousand acres in Derbyshire, whereas he is one of the richest men in England.”

“Your uncle is a Whig and has supported other reforms. You have a responsibility to do what is right and to dissuade him from the practice!”

Elizabeth noticed Darcy’s expression darken. “My first responsibility is always to my family and to my tenants. Taking care of them first is central to my integrity. And since my uncle and I do not agree on this issue, I choose not to argue with him. ”

“My idea of integrity is,” said Mr Walsh, leaning forward a little, “that a man should vote for himself, and banish all such feudal considerations entirely from his mind. Do you not care about matters beyond your own home and family?”

“There is a reason I am not a member of Parliament, Walsh. But I am in favour of many things you value: universal suffrage, equally sized electoral districts, voting by secret ballot. I support reform, but there is no swaying my uncle, and I will not ruin every family gathering by starting an argument I cannot win.”

“Universal suffrage?” she repeated, surprised.

“ Men who pay rent or own property, he means,” said Mr Walsh. “There is no need for women to vote. The interests of almost all women are represented in that of their fathers or in that of their husbands.”

“Pity. I suppose that if women had the right to vote, those elected would have to take notice of the issues we care about. I am sure some ladies even care about corrupt pocket boroughs.”

Darcy turned with a hand over his mouth, and she wondered if he was hiding a smile.

Mr Walsh looked perplexed and then said, “I have been terribly rude to barge in and discuss such a topic in mixed company. I must be wearying you dreadfully. Would you mind if I occupied Darcy’s attention and spoke with him privately?”

“Not at all.” She wondered how little Darcy might like this. She could not read his expression because Mr Walsh stared at her as though waiting for her to do something.

“Did you forget why Miss Bennet is here?” Darcy asked impatiently. “Her ankle is badly sprained. If you are waiting for her to leave us, you will wait for a very long time. Why do we not go to the library?”

Mr Walsh apologised and said his civilities. Darcy told her he would return shortly. He would certainly ask her what she thought of his friend. Mr Walsh was a passionate person, but she wondered if he had any flexibility, any capacity to compromise or laugh at himself .

She admired his enthusiasm, but she could not say she liked him more than she liked Darcy.

Walsh preceded Darcy into the library, and before he had sat, he said, “Challenging Lord Fitzwilliam’s control at Malton might shake his authority and lead to real reform.”

Darcy levelled a long look at his friend. “We have gone round and round, Walsh. I do not disagree with your ideals, but I cannot help you with this. From now on, any time you introduce the topic of me arguing with my uncle, you are choosing for me to walk away from the conversation.”

He exhaled through his nose. “Very well. I value your friendship too well to risk it over the boroughs issue.” The set of Walsh’s jaw held the weight of unspoken words. He disapproved of him, thought him weak, perhaps, but Walsh would not push the subject.

His friend rose and Darcy stopped him with a raised hand. “What did you think of my guest?”

Walsh lifted his shoulders. “If I can be honest? I did not much like her. A shame you are stuck with her for a week.”

“What?” How could anyone not like Elizabeth Bennet? “Why not?”

“She interjected her opinions. A woman should not speak above her age or sex.”

“You introduced the topic in front of her and continued it even when she hinted you change it.”

“She could have been a little more diffident and deferential. Or be silent. Your sister would have not said a word the entire time.”

“My sister is shy. If Miss Bennet was silent while meeting a new acquaintance, would you not think her dull?”

Walsh made a face of distaste. “She seems like a woman who thinks she must always be laughing or talking. And when the topic rolls on to politics, any woman who speaks is pert and affected, for how could she have an informed opinion?”

Darcy never thought Elizabeth was an incessant talker. Her abilities and sense never disgusted him. Walsh was just too single-minded to appreciate what was in front of him.

“There is no distracting you,” Darcy said, shaking his head. “You sometimes speak with the fire of a fanatic. You have good principles, but not everything at every moment is a cause.”

His friend looked away. “I should have been more obliging to Miss Bennet, I agree. I ought to have dropped the topic since we were not alone.” Walsh raised his eyes. “I hope you did not set it into your mind to match me to your friend?”

Darcy blinked. “Not at all. But if you truly did not like Miss Bennet, then you ought not to come to dinner this week. A meal with her and my sister will just be you and I discussing politics while Georgiana sits in silence and you ignore Miss Bennet’s attempt to join us.”

Walsh bowed. “Then I will see you at the Duke of Devonshire’s assembly on Friday.”

Walsh left, and Darcy climbed the stairs to return to Elizabeth. He paced the room while Elizabeth sat at her work. How could he say that Walsh did not like her? He should be more disappointed. He was affronted on her behalf, but he did not mind it at all that there would be no match for her.

“You can just ask me, you know,” she said as he walked by her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I doubt Mr Walsh is capable of a reciprocal affection, but he has high moral qualities. I would meet him again, but only because I would hate to judge harshly on first impressions. I have done that enough,” she added with a smile.

Darcy felt himself relax as he sat by her. Walsh had not touched Elizabeth’s heart. “You may judge harshly if a man says you are not pretty enough to dance with.”

“I have come to learn that some men improve on further acquaintance.” Darcy felt himself turn red, and he hoped the fading afternoon light hid it. “I would not mind meeting Mr Walsh again.”

Darcy struggled with what to say, but his expression must have answered for him because she set her work on her lap and asked, “He did not like me? ”

She did not sound wounded, but he still strove to console her. “It is merely from a dissimilarity in your temperaments. You are charming, and conversation comes easily to you. Walsh is an idealist who does not know how to laugh. He brims with zeal, but cannot enjoy a lady’s company for an evening.”

Her lips pressed together. “I am a conscientious person,” she insisted.

“I know you are,” he said. “But you and I can set aside the grievances of the world and let our hearts be filled with other things for a while. Walsh will always struggle to do that.” Her gaze drifted away, and he watched her think in silence for a moment before asking, “Are you disappointed?”

“No,” she said, and he believed her. “And it is better that you told me now, so I can feel this slight sting of rejection, even though I never felt an attraction to Mr Walsh. Georgiana can see me confident and unconcerned when she returns.”

“Has this shown you anything else you want to add to your list?” he asked.

Rather than lighten her mood as he had hoped, she looked more pensive.

“I do not want to hide who I am, but that is hardly something to add succinctly on a list of requirements for a husband. I do not want to conceal any learning I have, or how good-humoured I generally am, or keep an opinion on a book to myself. It would be an exhausting life.”

“Any man who loved you would not want you to change to suit him, or have you hide your good sense and cheerful manner.”

There was an admiration and fondness in Elizabeth’s look and smile that struck him. “There is another reason I am glad I learnt not to judge on first impressions. Otherwise, I would not have such a loyal friend to remind me what I am worth.”

Darcy wondered if all the warmth and tenderness in her gaze could be his. Should he try to captivate her heart, or consider her merely as a common friend?