Page 24 of The Power of Refusal
T he day after he returned to London, Darcy went to Halliday House during calling hours.
He carried a small box of fruits and asked to see Lady Harriet.
Hattie was alone, seated on a chaise in the drawing room. She extended her hand to greet him, and he begged her not to rise.
“How lovely to see you, Fitzwilliam. Have you heard from the happy couple?”
"Not yet. I imagine they are not thinking much about those they left behind,” he said.
Lady Harriet agreed. She opened the box and exclaimed over the citrus fruits he had presented. “So thoughtful, thank you. I envy your hothouses. We have little space for growing anything in town.”
Darcy suddenly was unequal to speech. Was this a terrible idea?
Lady Harriet filled the silence with chatter about the wedding and wedding gifts that had been delivered to the house. He half listened, lost in thought.
“Where are you, Darcy? You are preoccupied?” Lady Harriet asked. With a sheepish smile, he acknowledged his wool-gathering.
He cleared his throat. He was terrible at this task, and he knew it from painful experience.Nonetheless, he ploughed ahead.
“I would like to suggest something which may seem rather … unusual. Would you hear me out?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said, confused.
“Georgiana was quite demanding as a bride, you know,” he said, smiling to show she clearly had not been. “Before she wed, she made me promise I would seek happiness. She believes, not without reason, I am rather lonely without her. She would have me marry.” He waited to see how Lady Harriet would react. She quirked a brow curiously.
“I… this part is rather difficult. But I would have you know all. Some time ago I proposed to a lady.” Lady Harriet gasped and sat forward, about to ask questions.
“No, no, I am not betrothed. She rightfully rejected my proposal. I could not blame her for doing so. It is a long, not very interesting tale. The problem is, I cannot forget her. Georgiana extracted a promise from me. She made me swear I would marry. But I cannot marry where I would.”
Lady Harriet looked at him, her head cocked. “I am grieved to hear it, Fitzwilliam. I cannot imagine any rational creature refusing you,” she said.
Darcy smiled and shook his head. “Well, that is kind of you. I fear I was not at my best at the time, and her refusal was justified. She wed another.”
“I am so sorry,” Lady Harriet said, her eyes warm with sympathy.
“Thank you. But I heard you say no rational creature would refuse me, did I not? I consider you a rational creature, Hattie,” he said. He fell silent whilst Lady Harriet considered. She blinked as if to clear her head.
“What say you, Hattie? Would you consider marrying me?”
Shock rendered her eyes wide. “You know I am terribly ill, Darcy. I could never … my health. You need an heir, do you not? That would be quite beyond me.”
“I expect your brother and my sister will provide me with a suitable heir. I am not asking to place any demands on you whatsoever. Frankly, I am lonely. I enjoy your company. I could take very good care of you, beginning with taking you out of London to Pemberley as soon as might be.”
Lady Harriet was silent as she contemplated his offer. Her eyes filled with tears. “You would marry me knowing I will probably not live long? That I cannot be a true wife to you?”
Darcy nodded. “I understand your health is poor. But you are a good friend, and I think we both would benefit from companionship. And you would get to be a bride,” he added.
Lady Harriet sat forward and opened her arms. Darcy moved towards her and embraced her thin shoulders.
“You are the kindest man in the world, Darcy. If you are certain you wish to do this, I accept with gratitude,” she said, sobs interrupting her words.
Darcy held her, stroking her back until she ceased shaking. He wondered at his improvement. He had gone from “the last man in the world I could be prevailed upon to marry” to “the kindest man in the world.” Excellent progress.
∞∞∞
Lady Julia’s wedding was but weeks away. Darcy and Hattie agreed the rigamarole of a society wedding was not for them. Lady Halliday, Hattie’s mother, once she had recovered the power of speech, could not imagine putting together a second event in a short space of time.
Unspoken, but of great import, was the general understanding Lady Harriet did not have time to waste.
Rather than detract from the glamour of Lady Julia’s celebration, Darcy and Hattie agreed to quietly marry the day after Lady Julia, by licence. They would then travel, with many stops, to Pemberley. Darcy declined Lady Harriet’s dowry. He planned for her financial security should he somehow perish before her. Deep emotion marked his meeting with Lord Halliday. Her family had long surrendered any thought of Hattie marrying. Lord Halliday hemmed and hawed, struggling to ask the questions.
“I cannot think Hattie would be … you know she cannot become a mother?”
“I am aware of Lady Harriet’s illness. I have no expectations she will bear a child, nor will I approach her … physically. We will not have a traditional marriage.” Darcy muddled his way through the very awkward discussion.
Darcy then suggested the earl invest Hattie’s dowry with the plan to distribute it between her younger sisters upon her demise. Lord Halliday, a caring but not demonstrative father, broke down in tears at the reminder of his daughter’s impending death and the tender care Darcy offered. The two men devised a plan to ensure Lady Harriet would be as comfortable as possible in every way.
When Georgiana and Hal returned at last from their honeymoon, Darcy called upon his sister with some trepidation. She had been at Halliday House for but one morning, but Lady Julia could not contain the news. Thus, Georgiana greeted her brother with questions.
“Fitzwilliam, I have been gone a mere few weeks, and you have decided to marry Lady Harriet?” was her greeting.
He acknowledged that and found her flummoxed expression amusing.
“I love Hattie—she is a sweet, kind girl. I do not question your choice, but I did not know you admired her that way,” Georgiana said.
“Hattie and I have long been good friends, Georgiana. I am not in love with her, nor is she with me. I saw a need. Hattie needs to be cared for, to have a comfortable life where her requirements are paramount. The Hallidays are excellent parents, but Hattie is one of six children. I can devote far more attention to her needs and wishes.”
“You do not love her?” Georgiana looked at her brother, her brows lowered, her tone uncertain.
“I love her as a friend. We do not all require a grand love affair. I am not romantic. We will be happy, Georgie, and I will not be alone. I will be necessary to a person I respect.”
Georgiana’s eyes filled with tears, and she embraced her brother. “I see I cannot leave you for a moment without you getting up to some scheme or other."
“Are you unhappy with me?” Darcy asked.
Georgiana pulled back and looked into her brother’s eyes. “I suppose I wished for a grand love affair for you. You respect Hattie, and you will be kind to her. I just wished for you what I have found.”
“It will be well. Hattie and I are both lonely, and we will care for one another, as companions. Do not fret, Georgiana. I did not intend to upset you. I was following your orders, you know.”
Georgiana came to terms with the arrangement. Teasing ensued that when there has been one inter-marriage, there is less trouble in achieving a second.
∞∞∞
Several months after Elizabeth returned to Lockwood from Mary’s lying-in, Jane again ceased coming down to breakfast. The midwife was called and confirmed Jane was again increasing. She advised a bland diet, a quiet life, and ample air and rest. The strain of uncertainty caused Charles to pace, his brow wrinkled. He attended to Jane assiduously, providing pillows and rugs, insisting she “at least try” to eat the beef, walk in the garden, or rest of an afternoon.
Over the next weeks, with the assiduous care of both Charles and Elizabeth, and the concerted attention of Cook, Jane’s face had filled out, and her complexion gained even more than typical brilliance. Elizabeth thought her beautiful sister had never been so enchanting. But the strain brought circles under her eyes and a tendency to sigh. Elizabeth was filled with dread. If Jane had the least twinge of discomfort, the three would descend into a frenzy of foreboding.
Elizabeth had a role at Lockwood whilst Jane was under such a cloud of anxiety. She met with the housekeeper and cook in Jane’s stead and took over the tenant visits. She was pleased to be useful.
One grey morning in her fourth month, Jane woke with a familiar cramping. Her face was ashen as she gripped Elizabeth's hand. By evening, despite the midwife's ministrations, Jane lay pale against her pillows, her hopes once again shattered. Charles knelt beside the bed; his head bowed against her hand.
Elizabeth moved quietly through the house in the days that followed, ensuring broths were sent up, letters were answered, and the household continued to function. But at night, she would hear her sister's muffled sobs through the wall, and Charles's gentle murmurs of comfort. Though spring bloomed outside, Lockwood remained shrouded in grief.