Page 37 of The Power of Refusal

T he letter bore Bingley’s seal. Darcy had been eagerly awaiting Mrs Bingley’s communication regarding Mrs Couper’s confinement. He hoped this would be the news he had been waiting for.

Darcy broke the seal and unfolded the pages. As his eyes scanned the words, his brow furrowed with each line.

Dear Mr Darcy,

I had hoped to write to you to notify you of my sister’s delivery, but that has not yet happened. I thought it would be best to notify you of some concerning matters, as I know you were planning to proceed to Alton after the birth.

Elizabeth has written with grave concern about Mrs Couper’s health. The midwife has advised Mr Couper that he ought to consult a physician as she fears Mrs Couper may require more than she can provide at her time. Charles and I suggested Mr Brown, who attended me in London, to go to Alton, but Mr Couper refused. We believe Mr Couper is unable to meet the expense, however we do not wish to offend by any such suggestions.

Darcy knew all too well the dangers of childbirth. His own mother had died bringing Georgiana into the world. The thought of Elizabeth facing such a crisis alone made his chest tighten with fear.

I am more than troubled by Elizabeth’s being placed in such a circumstance. She cannot command Mr Couper to do anything, and yet she feels responsibility for our sister’s safety is in her hands.

Elizabeth was a strong and capable woman, but no one should have to bear such a burden alone. He hated to think of the toll it would take on her.

If you intend to go to Alton, it would be well for you to do so soon rather than after Mary’s confinement. I fear Elizabeth will be overset, and should things go wrong, she will suffer terribly.

Darcy would not let Elizabeth face this alone. He would go to Alton immediately. He would do everything in his power to support Elizabeth through this trying time.

I hope you will be able to make some sense out of my words. I fear I am distraught with worry for my two sisters. I beg you to advise us, as you are ever able to think clearly when all is awry.

Jane Bingley

Darcy folded the letter and tucked it into his coat pocket. His mind already raced with plans. He would notify his staff to prepare to depart immediately, and send a message to his own physician, asking him to travel to Alton. Elizabeth needed him, and he would go to her.

First, he must introduce himself to this Mr Couper and ensure he would not be turned away on arrival. What words could explain his interest without suggesting Mr Couper was irresponsible? He decided to identify himself in a manner to send the man to Debrett’s to determine his antecedents. He was, to most men of little means, the kind of man to whom they should never dare refuse anything which he condescended to ask. He could apologise later for taking an arrogant tack, in view of the urgency of the matter.

Dear Mr Couper,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to introduce myself. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley estate in Derbyshire and Darcy House in London, grandson of the late Earl of Matlock and nephew to the present earl.

As a close friend of Mr and Mrs Charles Bingley, your wife’s sister and brother-in-law, I have had the pleasure of making Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s acquaintance. I am also acquainted with your wife from my time in Hertfordshire visiting the Bingleys during their residence in that county.

I understand Miss Elizabeth is staying with you and Mrs Couper. I have the utmost respect for your position as the head of the household and as a man of the cloth. It is my earnest wish to assist you and your family in any way I can during this trying period.

I am writing to you now to request your permission to call on Miss Elizabeth at the parsonage. I assure you my intentions are entirely honourable, and I will conduct myself with the utmost propriety and respect for your family.

I am aware my presence may come as a surprise to Miss Elizabeth, and certainly to you. I am determined to prove the depth and sincerity of my affections. I offer any assistance, of any nature, which might ease your good wife’s way in her current travail.

I would be most grateful if you would grant me the opportunity to court Miss Elizabeth with your blessing. I look forward to meeting you soon.

Your servant, Fitzwilliam Darcy

The sun was just beginning to set as Darcy’s carriage pulled away from Darcy House.

The sky was painted in beautiful shades of orange and pink, but Darcy did not see. His thoughts were already in Alton, with the woman he loved and the sister she feared for.

He hoped he would arrive in time.

∞∞∞

Mary’s poor health frightened Elizabeth. Her sister could barely complete her toilette, let alone household duties. Elizabeth took on as much as Mary would allow.

One morning, Elizabeth leapt up to clear the breakfast dishes before Mary could rise, hoping to spare her sister the task. Mr Couper gave his wife a stern look.

“Did you invite your sister to undertake your chores, Mrs Couper? I hope sloth has not overtaken you because another lady is present.”

“No, Mr Couper, I am merely weary, and Elizabeth is kind enough to help me.” Mary’s docile tone made Elizabeth bite her tongue.

Mr Couper addressed Elizabeth. “Sister, I would speak with you,” he said, then rose and stalked to his study.

Elizabeth completed her trip to the kitchens, then presented herself at the study door. Mr Couper glared at her, as if to comment on her slow arrival, then beckoned her into the room. He did not invite her to sit.

“Are you acquainted with a Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy?” he demanded.

The room seemed to tilt, and Elizabeth drew in a shuddering breath. “I am,” she replied.

Mr Couper made a dissatisfied “Humph.” He toyed with a letter on his desk. “A friend of Mr Bingley’s,” he said in a tone of question.

“He is.” Elizabeth would proffer as little information as possible until she knew what this was about.

“I am in receipt of a letter from him. He has had the temerity to introduce himself to my notice. I referred to Debrett’s . He was married to Lady Harriet Halliday, deceased these two years. He is the grandson of the Earl of Matlock?” Mr Couper’s tone was disbelieving. Elizabeth calculated whether the noble connection was a positive or negative in Couper’s estimation.

“So I understand,” she said indifferently.

Mr Couper fixed her with a piercing look. “Why would such a gentleman write to me, informing me he wishes to call upon you? Of course, you are of age, but you are under my protection here. I dislike this presumption.”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. She had reached the conclusion Mr Couper disliked anything new, or anything that was not his idea. “Mr Darcy is an honourable gentleman,” she said, blanching at her own recent near accusation of his being anything but. In in her heart, she knew this to be true.

“As you say. Well, he is a man to whom I might deny nothing. I suppose you must inform me whether you wish to receive him.”

Elizabeth waited a breath. “I do.”

“Very well. You will have Mary chaperone you. You will do nothing to bring disgrace to my home.”

Elizabeth tamped down her anger at the insinuation. “You need have no such concern,” she said neutrally, controlling her desire to make a more pointed response. She reminded herself she was there for Mary. She would keep the peace with her prickly brother-in-law. Her responsibility was to ensure Mary was well.

Mr Couper raised his brows in disapproval. “That will be all,” he said, dismissing her.

Elizabeth turned, schooling her urge to slam the door on the overbearing man and walked down the hall. She paused. Mr Darcy had written to Mr Couper. He would never come to the home of a clergyman to make a dishonourable offer. It was beyond any expectation. A thrill rose in her heart at the idea of his calling upon her. How she might manage now Mary was spending most of her time in bed, she knew not. But he would come. She would have another chance.

Hope blossomed in her chest, a welcome respite from the worry and strain of the past weeks. She allowed herself a small smile.

∞∞∞

Couper was a fool. Self-important, puffed up, incapable of rational thought. Darcy seethed as he restrained himself from striking the man.

“Why should I permit you to call upon Miss Bennet? She is under my protection here in Alton. Have you her father’s permission?” Couper seemed to think his officious approach would cow Darcy.

Darcy had called upon Couper on his arrival in Alton. The man had not invited Darcy to sit when they entered the man’s study. He would use that indignity to loom with all of his height over the little man.

“Miss Elizabeth is beyond her majority. Should she ask, I will speak with her father. At present, there is no impediment to my calling upon her.”

Couper shook his head ruefully. Darcy had the impression the head in question held very little in the way of brain.

“I understand you are a widower,” Couper ventured.

What business was this of his? Darcy tamped down further annoyance. “I am.”

Couper gave him what he apparently thought was a quelling look. “How long has your wife been deceased?”

The utter nerve of this man. A bit of a prig? Bingley, as always, was far too kind in his assessment of the moron.

“Nearly two years,” Darcy spat the words.

“And you have children, I presume?”

“I have no children. I have an estate in Derbyshire which is productive and solvent. My position in society is of high rank, and my grandfather was an earl. Miss Bennet is in no danger from me.”

“Hmph. I rather expected you were looking for a mother to care for your children after your wife’s demise. I must admit I am puzzled by your stated interest in Miss Bennet. She is not in the first bloom of youth. She has no fortune. Why, the dowry Mrs Couper brought to our marriage was nothing. A man of your rank should be well able to secure a pretty young bride with ample funds.” Couper’s mouth twisted in a sort of leer as he spoke. What utter disrespect for his wife and for Elizabeth came from this fool.

Darcy let the silence extend. Couper had asked no question, but clearly was seeking some sort of explanation. He would wait quite some time.

Couper stared up at Darcy. After a moment, he seemed to take in his relative position and rose as well. He was still required to crane his neck to meet Darcy’s eye. The look he saw there had its intended impact. Couper cleared his throat.

“Very well. I suppose there is no harm in your calling upon Miss Bennet, if you wish to. She is here to attend to her sister in her confinement, so you will have to manage around Mrs Couper’s time as a chaperone. I trust I can rely upon you behaving as a gentleman?”

Darcy fought a compelling need to squash this man like an insect. He inhaled, forced out a “My thanks,” and turned to depart.

∞∞∞

From her seat in the front room, where she industriously constructed wrappers for the coming baby, Elizabeth spied the shiny black carriage. She gulped as she recognised Darcy’s conveyance. She had hoped he might come; Jane had hinted he might, and Mr Couper had spoken of it, but the reality was far more unsettling than her dreams.

Mary and Frances were napping. Rachel, the serving girl, had gone to the village on an errand for Mr Couper, leaving Elizabeth with no one to answer the door. When she heard the sharp rap, she rose on shaky legs. She smoothed her skirt and straightened her cap. She must look a fright, drawn, tired, and ill-kempt. How low must she sink in Mr Darcy’s estimation as the years went on? Now she was acting as a housemaid, opening the door to the house.

Mr Darcy’s eyes widened when she appeared at the door. Had he grown taller? No, she had forgotten how he towered over her. His eyes searched her face, with that long-remembered expression of tenderness as if he looked to ensure himself she was well. A genuine smile, the first in weeks, crept over her face.

“Mr Darcy, please come in,” she said.

Mr Darcy looked around as though seeking a servant. Elizabeth reached for his hat and coat and deposited them on the hooks. He then handed her a bouquet of hot-house flowers, still fresh and dewy.

“Oh, how lovely, thank you. Please come in. My sister is resting, and Mr Couper is visiting a parishioner. Will you have tea? Oh, forgive me, I cannot offer you tea until Rachel returns from the village. You have come from London? Was your journey pleasant?” Elizabeth knew she was blabbering as she stumbled over her words. Her usually confident voice was now small and timid. She chastised herself for being so flustered, wishing she could appear more composed.

The prospect of opening any subject seemed impossible. She recalled Mr Couper’s strictures on chaperonage. She could not be found alone with a gentleman in the drawing room by the master of the house. She glanced around as if a maid might appear from the ceiling.

Surprisingly, Mr Darcy rescued her.

“Perhaps we could take a turn in the garden? Until your sister is below stairs?” he spoke gently, as though he sensed how rattled she was.

Elizabeth agreed and took up a shawl she had left on the back of the settee. Mr Darcy helped himself to his coat and hat, and the two left through the front door towards the glebe around the house.

St Lawrence parsonage had a good-sized parcel of land devoted to the support of the parson. Mr Couper considered himself above such matters as keeping bees or growing vegetables, Elizabeth had learnt from Mary. Ever practical, Mary had planted a kitchen garden herself as well as acquiring a flock of hens to supply eggs for their table. In her current condition, Mary could not keep up with either. Elizabeth did what she could, but after a few days, she hired a lad at her own expense to keep up the gardens. Approaching Mr Couper for a few shillings for the project seemed more trouble than it was worth.

Mr Darcy glanced around the area with interest. “This seems a very comfortable house.Mr Couper, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mrs Couper first came to Alton.”

“I believe he did—and I am sure he could not have done so without the mysterious gift of his anonymous benefactor.” Elizabeth had suspicions about the origin of those gifts, given the timing and Mr Darcy’s confusion about who exactly had married Mr Couper. She shuddered to think it might have been her.

For all his stoic presentation, Mr Darcy’s efforts to hide his emotions no longer worked on Elizabeth. A quick tightening of his lips, a slight flush of his cheeks, answered her inquiry.

“Mr Couper appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.” Mr Darcy’s evasion of the topic further cemented Elizabeth’s conclusion and further reinforced her shame at having misunderstood him when he spoke at Lockwood. She would take this moment to rectify her errors.

“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” she began, in a tone of deep emotion, “I took your words when last we met in a mistaken light. I have no excuse for my behaviour, and I am ashamed of my ill-founded accusations. My interpretation was formed on mistaken premises, and my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”

“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” Darcy said. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable.” Darcy stopped in the path and turned to face her.

“I was so anxious to … You thought me again devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure. I have ever struggled to catch the tone of a conversation, so caught up I am in what I wish to say. It is far worse when I am overset with powerful feelings. Perhaps, if I … Nay, all I can ask is you permit me to begin again.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. Standing across from this man, seeing the affection and hope in his eyes, she worked to suppress an urgent desire to kick herself. She had nearly lost him a second time. A man who had twice been refused! How could she ever be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his love? Was there one among the sex who would not protest against such a weakness as a third proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent to feelings. And yet, Mr Darcy looked upon her with such tenderness, she could almost believe it was possible.

“If you can forgive my stupidity, I am more than happy to begin again.”

Darcy’s smile could have melted the firmest ice on the pond they walked beside.

Elizabeth had to avert her eyes. The intensity of her emotions threatened her self-restraint. How she longed to touch his face! Her many studies of his features, captured on paper for her own delight, her heartfelt dreams of this man, had always found her caressing his cheek and tangling her fingers in his wavy hair. Only the greatest self-control prevented her stepping into his arms and…

Mr Darcy looked away and began strolling again.

“Mrs Bingley wrote to me of concerns about Mrs Couper’s health,” he said. Elizabeth abruptly woke from her daydreams.

“I am sure she did. We have been corresponding about Mary. She is very unwell. Her midwife wished to call a doctor in, but Mr Couper is reluctant to agree.” Elizabeth’s tone conveyed her disgust with her brother-in-law’s decision.

“I see. What do you understand is his reason for refusal?”

Elizabeth let out a frustrated sigh. “To Mrs Danvers, he has said ‘the Lord will provide.’ When I spoke with him, he was not much more rational. He quoted scripture and told me pain was part of bringing new life to the world. He will not hear that matters with Mary are not right. Something is amiss, and I fear— oh I cannot bear it!” Elizabeth’s tears spilt from her eyes. She had not wanted to cry, to be a missish watering pot before him. But her terror for Mary and her frustration with Mr Couper was too much.

Mr Darcy extended his hand to Elizabeth and led her to a spot where they might not be seen from the house or the road. He handed her his handkerchief and stood close to her, his head bent toward her.

“My personal physician is to come to Alton. He should arrive tomorrow. Mrs Bingley believes Mr Couper cannot bear the expense of a physician. I am more than happy to take care of it. What else might I do for your relief?”

As if by an inexorable force, Elizabeth moved closer to Mr Darcy. She would like nothing more than to melt into his arms.

“If you can convince Mr Couper, that would be everything I could hope for,” she whispered. When she tipped her head up, Mr Darcy was regarding her with such affection and concern she lost any remaining thread of restraint. She leant forward and rested her head on his shoulder. He enfolded her in a comforting embrace the likes of which she had long dreamt of. His warm, solid body and powerful arms sheltered her from all her pain and fear. Her tears returned in force, and Mr Darcy held her whilst she wept.