Page 11 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy

Elizabeth

I n the dim afternoon light, Elizabeth Bennet nestled into the worn armchair beside her father’s bedside, the gentle rhythm of his breath filling the silence of the room. Mr Bennet lay still, one side of his face drooping slightly as if the weight of his ailments had pulled him into an unsettling slumber. Elizabeth opened a battered copy of The Mysteries of Udolpho , a book she had read before and which was also one of her father’s favourites. As she began to read aloud, the worn pages felt soothing under her fingers, yet her heart was heavy.

“How strange it is, that a fool or a knave, with riches, should be treated with more respect by the world, than a good man, or a wise man in poverty!” Her voice quivered as the story unfolded, echoing in the stillness, but her eyes began to blur with the quickening tears that streamed down her cheeks.

Usually, her father would chime in with witty remarks when she read this book or ask her to re-read a certain section so they could debate it. Now, he lay still, locked in his own body, even when awake.

She bit her lip, stifling a sob. Her father could not sense her heartache, nor could he feel the desperation that twisted within her as she gazed upon his frail, sleeping form.

She was desperate to help him, to ease his discomfort and make him the man he had once been. The cost of the best treatment was prohibitive unless she did the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do—marry Mr Darcy. The idea of it twisted her stomach into knots.

Yes, he had evidently seen the error of his ways and spoken to Mr Bingley—who appeared keen to reunite with Jane. But did that make up for the vile things he had said about her family? How horribly he had treated Mr Wickham? And yet… if she were married to him, he could provide the help they needed.

She was drawn from her thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps, and her mother entered, her expression a mix of concern and weariness. “Lizzy, dear…” she started. Elizabeth closed the book, the words lingering in the air as she met her mother’s gaze. Mrs Bennet’s visage softened immediately at the sight of her daughter’s expression and the tears that had not yet dried on her face.

“Here, take this,” she said, handing her a handkerchief.

“Mother, I cannot bear to see him like this. We must find a way to secure the funds for the specialist. The treatment is costly, and…”

Mrs Bennet’s brow furrowed. “I have thought about the matter as well. There are things we can sell to help raise funds. The silverware perhaps. My brother and sister will surely also assist us financially, but it will be difficult.”

“Indeed,” Elizabeth replied, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “And it may not be enough. We could also consider a part-time position for me, perhaps as a governess. I have already spoken to my sisters about the possibility of us working.”

Her mother sighed, glancing at Mr Bennet as he slept. “That is a noble thought, Lizzy, but it would leave me here alone. I thought if we could hire the physician Dr Eversham recommended he could stay in one of the estate’s cottages, but we would continue to do the nursing work ourselves. That way we might be able to manage it. But the man’s fees are high. I thought perhaps we could arrange a soirée. Invite those in our circle… they might contribute to a collection to aid in the expenses.”

“Yes, a soirée could bring in donations,” Elizabeth brightened at the suggestion, though worry still shadowed her face. “We could use the evening to explain Father’s condition. Perhaps Mr Bingley might be willing to help.”

A flicker of hope kindled in Mrs Bennet’s eyes, which then died out as quickly as it had arrived. “But then our reputation will be ruined forever. We have already taken charity from the Forsters when they took Lydia, and if we have a soirée then… well, we will always be known as the beggars of Longbourn.”

“Mother, I think not. Nobody would be so unkind to us,” she said, but her mother shook her head.

“A family that relies upon charity is not a family any man will wish to marry into, Elizabeth. You know this. Ah, if only Jane had married Mr Bingley, we would all be saved. Mr Bingley’s money could have made all the difference. My sister-in-law wrote to me that he called upon them a fortnight ago, seeking to find Jane. It seems clear that he is still fond of her. Perhaps there is still a chance?”

Elizabeth looked away, her thoughts instantly back to Mr Darcy and his proposition. If she put her family first, perhaps she should accept him. But… how could she?

“I do not think Mr Bingley is a viable option,” she said, looking to change the course of the conversation.

“Of course, of course. We must find the funds to help him. Oh, but I wish there were another way, other than begging and ruining all of your chances. I wish your father was well enough to talk, then I could ask him what to do. In these times, I value his wise counsel more than at any other.”

Reluctantly, Elizabeth rose from her seat beside her father, casting a final glance towards the still form of Mr Bennet. “You should take a rest now, Lizzy,” her mother urged softly. “I shall stay with your father for a while.”

With a heavy heart, Elizabeth made her way to the parlour, where she found Jane standing by the window, gazing out into the garden.

“Lizzy,” Jane said quietly as she noticed her sister, turning away from the view to meet her gaze. “I cannot help but worry.”

“Neither can I,” Elizabeth replied quietly. “I think Mother looks thinner each day.” She sighed, feeling the weight of their situation pressing down on her chest. “It seems nobody else has noticed.”

“I have,” Jane admitted, her brow knitted with concern. “But with everything happening, I fear we are all too absorbed in our own fear for Father to pay attention to her wellbeing.”

Elizabeth nodded, her heart aching for them all.

“If only we could find a way to make him better, to ease the weight off Mother’s shoulders,” Jane lamented, casting her eyes to the floor. “Ways that do not involve asking for assistance from wealthy men.”

“Mother has been pressuring you to reconsider Mr Bingley, hasn’t she?” Elizabeth ventured, her heart sinking a little.

“Yes,” Jane said, her tone laden with uncertainty. “But just because he called upon our aunt and uncle does not mean he wishes to court me again. And even if he did… I am not certain I could accept him after all that has passed. He hurt me, Lizzy. When Mary said Mr Darcy was coming to call on us, I feared he might wish to speak to me about Mr Bingley. I would not know what to say. I am glad it appears he only came to speak to Mr Collins. He is leaving, did you hear?”

Elizabeth looked up. “He is?”

Jane nodded. “In the morrow. Apparently Mr Darcy informed him that Lady Catherine desperately needs his help with the wedding preparations but does not want to disturb him or burden him.”

So perhaps his proposal to her had not been the only reason for his visit. He’d come to rid them of Mr Collins—at least for the time being. Normally, she would have chided him for lying to a man of God, but in this case she did not mind it. Although it made her wonder even more about Mr Darcy’s intentions. She glanced at Jane.

“There is something I have not told you yet, about Mr Darcy.” She hesitated, knowing the implications of her confession. “He proposed to me. Twice.”

“Mr Darcy? Twice?” The surprise was evident on her face, the gravity of the revelation sinking in. “And you declined his offer. Pray tell me why, Lizzy. You appeared to be fond of him at one point, in fact I wondered if you were setting your cap on him.”

Elizabeth gave a sigh and then told Jane all about Mr Darcy’s role in Mr Bingley’s departure for London. How he and Mr Bingley’s sisters had wished to separate them, fearing the Bennets to be a poor choice for a man wishing to better himself in society. When she finished, she waited to see what her sister’s reaction would be.

For a moment, Jane struggled to find her voice. “How could he? Mr Darcy, of all people, should understand the strength of his influence over Mr Bingley,” she said, her brow furrowing with disbelief. “It is unfathomable to think he would let such biases influence Mr Bingley’s heart.” She clenched her hands, her mind racing as she grappled with the implications of Elizabeth’s revelations.

“So you see, it was not entirely Mr Bingley’s doing, nor his desire to part from you. He was encouraged by a man he trusted, and by his sisters.”

“He always did value their opinions—do you think he truly regrets it now?”

“I am sure, that is what Mr Darcy led me to believe, and Aunt Gardiner’s letter certainly indicates it as well.”

She looked at Jane as her sister’s jaw moved back and forth, as if she were trying to make sense of it all. She knew Jane wanted to forgive Mr Bingley, and hearing that he had been manipulated might help make it easier.

“You can see why I would not want to marry him. Yet, when he called on us earlier, he proposed once more —not out of love, but for purely practical reasons. The marriage would help us financially and also allow him to escape his aunt’s machinations.” She made a full report of what Mr Darcy had told her and Jane listened, stunned.

“Lizzy, I do not know what to say. I can understand why you do not wish to marry him but if it is mainly because of what he has done with regard to myself and Mr Bingley, do not let that be your guide. He had seen the error of his ways and one must show grace.”

“You are too good for this world, Jane,” she said. “But how can I marry a man who has done such things to my family, and who looks down on me? I could not spend my life with him and be happy,” she paused and glanced out of the window, trying to gather her thoughts. “Yet, at the same time he holds the key to helping father. If we wait much longer…” Even if Jane forgave Mr Bingley, it would be some time before they could be together, and she could not very well ask him for money. Besides, she would never do such a thing, not unless he offered and even then, they would need to be married. All of this could be weeks away if it happened at all.

Just because Jane wanted to forgive Mr Bingley, her heart had been badly wounded. Did Mr Bingley want to marry her, or did he simply feel guilty for the way he had been so easily influenced? There were too many variables, too many uncertainties…

Mr Darcy was offering money now…

“What if you were to come to an arrangement?” Jane asked.

“Arrangement?”

“If you and Mr Darcy were to enter a courtship, even one that was false, that might be enough—if he only has to disprove his aunt’s story and quieten the gossip regarding his forthcoming nuptials. He may be willing to help us in return. I do not see why you must marry him,” Jane said, and Elizabeth was thoroughly surprised by her sister’s level of deception. Although… was it? If they married it would be a deception as well, would it not?

“To enter into a courtship with Mr Darcy whether false or not, would also draw society’s attention to our family. And if we were not to wed, scandal would ensue,” Elizabeth said.

Jane’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she spoke, “Though if Papa were not to recover, what would our family’s reputation matter?”

The sisters exchanged glances, the weight of the situation pressing upon them, but also reinforcing their bond. “Perhaps I ought to speak with him. But Jane, this is indeed a terrible state of affairs,” Elizabeth said with a sigh, a trace of a smile creeping onto her lips despite the circumstances. “We seem to be entangled in a web of misunderstandings and misplaced affections.”

Jane nodded thoughtfully, her heart still heavy but resolute. “Nevertheless, we must not lose hope. We have much to consider, Lizzy, and perhaps we can find a way through this chaos.”

Together, they shared a moment of silent agreement—an unspoken vow to navigate the trials ahead with courage, united in their determination to seek love and joy, no matter how daunting the path may seem.