Page 30 of Succession
M iss Bingley was indeed already gone by the time Mr. Darcy returned to Netherfield Park. He was happy to share the news of his engagement to Miss Bennet, and the congratulations – along with Bingley’s best brandy – flowed long as the Bingleys sat with Mr. Darcy in the drawing room.
“We will be brothers, Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed, happily.
And Mrs. Bingley added, beaming beautifully, “I could not be happier, Mr. Darcy.”
“I thank you, Mrs. Bingley,” Mr. Darcy replied. “Nor could I.”
“Though,” she added, her face falling a bit. “I cannot help but think that Caroline pushed you into something you might not otherwise have done.”
“In truth, Miss Bingley pushed your sister, not me. I have been ready for a betrothal for some weeks now.”
“Ohhhh,” she breathed. “Well, that does make sense.”
“Does it?” His tone was a bit odd.
Mrs. Bingley saw that he had been a bit hurt by Elizabeth’s hesitation. “Mr. Darcy, my sister has taken the example of our parents very much to heart.”
“She mentioned them as an example, yes.”
“My father has confided in her perhaps more than he should have, as it was Lizzy who learnt that our mother’s pretty face, blonde curls, and flirtatious manner led our acerbic, scholarly father into marriage. His mother, my grandmother Elizabeth – yes, my sister was named for her – counseled Papa not to marry Miss Gardiner, but he was blinded by his infatuation. As a result, he has lived these many years with a woman he cannot esteem, while she has lived these same years with the knowledge that her husband finds her wanting.”
“That is indeed a hard lesson to learn from one’s parents.”
“It is, and one that Lizzy has sworn not to repeat.”
“I will love her always,” Mr. Darcy promised.
“Yes, but you see, that is what our father thought about our mother as well.”
“But Elizabeth is not your mother and I am not your father.”
“And that, I do not doubt, is why Lizzy agreed to the match.”
“I am off to London in the morning, Mrs. Bingley; with your kind permission, I will return within a week.”
“You are always welcome here, Mr. Darcy. And since we are to be brother and sister, might you not call me Jane?”
“I would be honoured, indeed. And my name is Fitzwilliam, though your sister says it is too long a name, and she will call me William.”
Mrs. Bingley – Jane, now – laughed. “I can just picture Lizzy counting off the syllables in Fitzwilliam and then shaking her head. She has always been envious of me for having a one-syllable first name, while hers is four.”
“Thus she goes by Lizzy; but I shall always call her Elizabeth! Such a lovely name!”
“He is besotted indeed,” Mr. Bingley said to his wife, smiling widely. “You are off to London for the marriage articles, Darcy?”
“Yes, and to try to persuade my aunt and uncle to attend the wedding.”
“Your aunt and uncle – oh, the Matlocks!” Mr. Bingley exclaimed.
“An earl and countess at Lizzy’s wedding?” Jane first looked bemused, then amused. “My mother will be beside herself!”
“That is what Elizabeth said as well, but it is by no means certain.”
“You mean they may not approve,” Jane said, her voice sharp.
“Or they may already be engaged for that date; the twenty-fifth of May is, after all, not far off. Jane – it feels very odd to call you that! – might they stay here, if they do choose to attend?”
“Of course; there is far more room here than at Longbourn.”
***
The next morning saw Mr. Darcy in the saddle immediately after breaking his fast. He saw no need for a carriage, as it was a fast and easy journey by horseback, and he could manage his clothing well enough without his valet for a few days. He was at Darcy House before luncheon.
“Mr. Darcy! We were not expecting you,” the butler greeted his master at the door. “But Cook can put together a meal for you quickly enough.”
“My decision to come to London was rather unexpected, Thompson,” Mr. Darcy said. “Please tell Cook that a light meal would be welcome, but she is not to go to any trouble.”
Mr. Darcy ran up the stairs like a boy, and was back downstairs in twenty minutes, having given himself a quick wash and changed his clothing. His housekeeper, Mrs. Armstrong, greeted him cheerfully in the family dining room.
“Mr. Darcy, a pleasure to see you, sir. Cook hopes this will suffice.” A meal of bread, cheese and cold chicken had been placed on the table.
“More than sufficient,” he assured her. “Please thank her for me, and tell her that I will be back for dinner.”
Mrs. Armstrong curtsied and left; Mr. Darcy made short work of his luncheon and was soon out the door.
***
“The young lady has no dowry at all?” The solicitor’s voice rose in distress.
“None, Mr. Everingham.”
“But –“
“Mr. Everingham, I have assured you three times now that this is the case. Shall I take my business elsewhere?” Mr. Darcy was becoming frustrated.
“No, sir; I am just surprised,” the solicitor confessed, his hands spread wide.
“Please contain your surprise, then, and let us move on to the matters at hand.”
It took an hour to establish Elizabeth’s pin money, the dowries that would be established for their daughters, the inheritances that would be given to their sons, and the monies and properties that would belong to Elizabeth in the event that Mr. Darcy predeceased her.
“Mr. Everingham, would you be able to lay your hands on a copy of my own parents’ marriage articles? I understand this may take some time, as they were created more than thirty years ago.”
“Wait here, sir,” the solicitor said, and left. He returned not ten minutes later, with a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Here are those articles.”
“I congratulate you on your filing system, sir,” Mr. Darcy said, in some surprise.
“I have an excellent clerk!” was the reply.
Mr. Darcy flipped through the papers and discovered that as a widow, his mother was entitled to her pin money for the remainder of her life, as well as the possession of an estate called Cresston Hall. He recalled that the estate was in Cumberland, and his parents had gone there on their wedding trip as part of a visit to the Lake District.
Looking up, he said, “Mr. Everingham, might you have three copies of my marriage articles made, as well as a single copy of this page?”
“Indeed, Mr. Darcy. Return to us in three days’ time and all will be ready.”
Farewelling his solicitor, Mr. Darcy steeled himself for his next errand.
***
“Darcy! I had not expected you.”
“Am I not welcome, Aunt Eleanor?”
“You are always welcome, of course; but it is courteous to apprise one’s relatives of an expected visit.” His aunt frowned at him.
“I am here rather unexpectedly, as I am to be married and needed to have the marriage articles prepared.”
His aunt fell back in her chair in astonishment. “Married?! How is it that I do not know about it?”
“You do know about it now, and you are among the first.”
“But – but who? When? How? Where?”
Mr. Darcy’s amusement evidently showed in his face, as his aunt recovered herself quickly and berated him for laughing at her.
“I am not laughing at you, Aunt Eleanor; it is just that I am happy.”
“Happy? To be getting married?”
“You have been in Town too long, Aunt, if that strikes you as surprising! Yes, I am marrying an exemplary young lady who is perfect in every way, and I am here to invite you and uncle to the wedding.”
“The last I knew, you had returned to London after quite rightly deciding not to marry Anne de Bourgh, despite pressure from your mother to do so, and were planning to go off to the country to pursue a young lady you had just met! This is all rather sudden, is it not?”
Mr. Darcy told his aunt the story of his visit to Meryton, leaving nothing out. She was an attentive listener, stopping him to ask questions and encouraging him to provide more detail. Finally, he told her of his success in persuading Elizabeth to agree to the marriage the previous day, and by that time, the Countess was smiling.
“So you have managed to secure the one woman in all of England who made you work for her favour?”
“It would appear so.”
“Dowry? Connections?”
“None whatsoever,” he replied, promptly. “In fact, she has an uncle in trade here in London; you may as well hear that now. But what need has she of a dowry or connections, with so much intelligence and beauty at her command!”
“I look forward to meeting this paragon. When is the wedding to take place?”
“The twenty-fifth of May. Might I hope that you and uncle will attend?”
“Where is this village of hers?”
“In Hertfordshire, not three hours from Town. You would be most welcome to stay at Bingley’s place, Netherfield Park.”
“I will speak with your uncle, but I believe you can count on us. And Darcy…”
“Yes, Aunt?”
“You may think it your duty to invite your mother and sister to your wedding, but I think it would be best to present certain members of the family with a fait accompli .”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “That is my intention.”
“Come to dinner tomorrow night, and you can tell your uncle the same story you just told me.”
***
After eating a solitary dinner at Darcy House, Mr. Darcy went into his study and closed the door. He opened his safe, which hung behind a picture of Pemberley that had been painted by Thomas Gainsborough some fifty years earlier. He carried the contents to his desk.
Spread before him was a fortune in jewels, in every colour of the rainbow. He knew his Elizabeth did not much care for such things, but he could not return to Meryton without a ring for her. And perhaps this emerald parure. This amethyst set would look lovely on her as well. But hold – what of these sapphires? And these rubies!
Finally, he decided to give her a choice, and so poured a number of necklaces, bracelets, earrings and rings into a velvet bag, which he tied securely. She would protest at such extravagance, but did she not deserve every bit of it?