Page 7 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy

Darcy

D arcy bolted out of Brooks frazzled, for he had barely sat down for a fifth of whiskey when he had been set upon by not one but two different acquaintances whose names he barely remembered, but who had wished to give him their heartfelt congratulations on his impending wedding to his cousin.

This had been a recurring theme over the last week and a half, wherever he went, be it for a stroll in the park, or a meal out, or even to church. Last Sunday, people were congratulating him on a wedding he had never agreed to.

Not even at his gentleman’s club was he safe from reminders of his upcoming wedding. He’d thought of possible solutions for the situation—claiming that the newspaper had made a mistake had been at the top of his list. Alas, his aunt had sent similar announcements to The Times , The Morning Post , and The Courier . There was no way to claim that they had all been mistaken.

He would have had to tell all of the ton that his aunt had schemed behind his back.

He had considered it, but he knew that would be a scandal too far. The entire family would be talked about. Society liked nothing better than a scandal, and Darcy knew he could not be the one to give it to them. It would affect not only his aunt—who would be humiliated—but Anne and possibly the entire Fitzwilliam side of his family.

Of course, his aunt must have known he would not do this to his own flesh and blood, and thus felt safe in her manipulations

Vexed, he made his way along St James Street but then paused. Among the congratulations and well-wishes he had received not only in person, but in writing, had been a note from Bingley, asking him to stop at Grosvenor House so that they might take a drink together and talk, for it had been a few weeks since they had had a proper conversation.

Darcy had not seen his friend since the fateful visit to Rosings and his disastrous proposal. In truth he had been avoiding him, not just because he didn’t wish to burden Bingley with his current situation, but also because he knew if he saw his friend, he’d have to tell him about Kent and his conversation with Elizabeth Bennet—and admit what he’d done.

He’d have to confess that he had made a mistake with regard to Jane Bennet, and Darcy genuinely feared Bingley might never forgive him. Still, such pride had to come to an end.

Besides, the most selfish part of him needed to talk to his friend. To gain his advice. How ironic that was. Usually, Darcy considered himself the one who gave advice, not the one to receive it. However, he had been a prisoner of his own racing thoughts for far too long. He had to talk to someone. And then, once he had unburdened himself he hoped that Bingley could forgive him.

He made a turn and hastened towards Grosvenor Square. Once there, he knocked and was properly admitted by Hazelton, the Hurst’s butler.

He was shown into the parlour. Bingley joined him momentarily. Immediately, he saw that his worst fears had been right. Bingley looked as though he had not slept well in weeks, the dark circles under his eyes bore witness to this. His face also looked somewhat gaunter than Darcy was used to, although the same amiable smile played around his lips.

“Darcy, as I live and breathe! It has been an age and a half since I last saw you! Say, how has Rosings treated you?” He waved his hand as he walked to the sideboard, picked up two glasses and poured whiskey without asking.

“Faith, it was a disaster,” Darcy said and his friend nodded sympathetically.

“Well, I can imagine. I have seen the announcement. I daresay, I suspect a scheme by your dear aunt?”

“Aunt Catherine has taken it upon herself to force a match neither myself nor Anne desire. I left Rosings after making it quite clear to her that I did not wish to wed. And not two days later, there is an announcement of our impending nuptials.”

Bingley handed him the drink, one eyebrow raised. “You said Anne does not wish it either? You spoke to her on the matter?”

“I had to. I was quite blunt with my aunt regarding my feelings towards Anne, and then I felt it necessary to explain to Anne. I did not want to hurt her feelings. To my surprise, I discovered that she already has an admirer, and he is someone she is fond of as well.”

Bingley crossed one leg over the other, head slightly dipped to the side.

“And who, pray, might that be?”

Darcy quickly made a report on what had transpired, and Bingley raised his eyebrows even higher.

“Richard and Miss de Bourgh? A curious match though, I suppose it makes sense. They are both beset upon by parents who are very strong-minded. Your Uncle Matlock likes things done his way too, doesn’t he?”

Darcy nodded. “Indeed. But it seems my aunt is determined to make a match out of Anne and me. This campaign, announcing that we are engaged is a last-ditch effort on her part, I am sure. And it is increasingly difficult to combat. Half of London have already congratulated me on my upcoming wedding.”

“I see. Well, what do you intend to do?” Bingley asked. “You can’t outright deny it. It would be a scandal.”

“Indeed. It would. I wrote to my aunt and told her that no matter what, I will not marry Anne. I will refuse. Naturally, if I do refuse, there will be a scandal as well. No matter what I do, there will be a scandal of some sort.” He groaned and took another sip.

“So what will you do? I assume marrying her is out of the question?”

“Of course it is, for both our sakes. I intend to see my uncle, Lord Matlock. I do not think there is any other way. I will need him to see sense and speak to my aunt. It is awkward, because I cannot tell him that it is not only I who does not wish for this wedding.”

“He does not know about Richard’s designs on Anne?” Bingley asked.

“He does not. Richard has not spoken to him yet. In fact, I have not spoken to Richard since Anne told me about him.”

“What an intricate web,” Bingley said. “It is never easy, is it? Love, marriage—when we were young, we thought it was all so simple. We would meet someone we liked, marry them, defy our parents’ convention if they did not agree with our choices and live happily ever after,” he scoffed, and took a gulp of his drink. Darcy felt a shift in the air as the conversation moved away from his troubles to Bingley’s.

Darcy drank the rest of his whiskey and set the glass down. Only then did he feel strong and courageous enough to admit to his own wrongdoing.

“Speaking of love and such, Bingley, I fear I have made a mistake.”

“You are admitting to a mistake?” Bingley chuckled. “I think I can count on one hand how often that has happened. And I will not even need all of my fingers.”

His friend’s words stung a little, but he also knew that they held the truth.

“Indeed, it is no laughing matter, my friend. You see, I think the advice I gave you along with your sisters and brother-in-law was quite wrong.”

Bingley sat up straight, his hands crawling around the edge of his seat. “You mean regarding Jane?”

“Yes. I know I called her cold and calculating. But I have since spoken to several people who know her, and it appears that I was wrong. It seems her feelings for you were genuine. It was only her reserved character that led me to believe otherwise. I was worried for you and believed I was doing you a favour but now it appears perhaps I was wrong and robbed you of a chance at happiness.”

Bingley wetted his lips and cleared his throat before speaking in a more serious manner than was usual for him.

“It was not your interpretation of Jane’s demeanour that made me choose to walk away,” Bingley said to his surprise. “It was the way that the four of you convinced me that it would be detrimental for myself and my future to be connected to her family. Indeed, I do recall my brother-in-law Hurst saying that would also be bad for Jane, because everybody would think that she set her cap on me only for my money. If there was already gossip circulating stating that she did not truly care for me, then our marriage would always be dogged by these rumours. It would hurt her. And I didn’t want to do that. Although now, I think I was mistaken. I should not have listened to anybody, I should have trusted my heart. I knew in my heart that Jane loved me, as I loved her. As I still love her. I allowed myself to be influenced because I am weak of character.”

Darcy wanted to tell him that this was not so, but he knew that would be doing his friend a disservice. For the truth was Bingley was easily influenced. And he always had been. And if Darcy was perfectly honest, he had taken advantage of his friend’s gullibility on occasions. Never in a malicious way, of course, but if he thought that Bingley was on the wrong path regarding a matter or another, he knew that he could easily influence him. However, this had always been done for his friend’s benefit, at least that’s what he had always believed. Such as in this instance. Yet he’d been wrong.

“I feel it is my responsibility. I have always looked out for you. But I gave you poor counsel in this case, and for that, I am sorry. I would encourage you to speak to her. To see if perhaps you could reconcile. I know in these days, especially, she will need someone who genuinely cares for her by her side.”

“I do not think that she would want me,” Bingley said sounding morose. “Indeed, I cannot imagine that she would…” He paused and looked up at Darcy. “What do you mean, ‘in times like these’? Why now? Has something happened to Jane?” The panic that gripped his voice was obvious and spoke of the deep care he had for the young woman.

“You have not heard?” Darcy said.

“Heard what? Do not keep me in suspense. What has happened, Darcy?”

Darcy took a deep breath. “Mr Bennet had an accident some weeks ago. I heard of it from Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who received a letter while at Rosings Park. I am told it was apoplexy and the situation is quite dire. Collins has gone to Longbourn to—”

Bingley slammed his open palm onto the arm of his chair. “That weasel! I should have known that he would immediately take advantage of such a situation. Goodness gracious. Poor Jane. She must be beside herself. I wish I could help. I wish there was something I could do… Jane… That dreadful man, he will most certainly take advantage of the family if he can. We cannot allow that to happen.”

“Of course not,” Darcy said. “But one thing after the other. Has she returned home to Longbourn? Or do you believe she might still be with her relatives here?”

“I was unaware Jane was in Town at all,” Bingley said, his voice pained. “If I had known, I would have called on her.”

“She was visiting her aunt and uncle in Cheapside. Miss Elizabeth mentioned it once.”

“I see. Well, then perhaps we ought to call on her there? See if she is still there and if not, the Gardiners may be able to assist us. I wonder how Mr Bennet is,” Bingley said. Darcy noticed that he appeared more vibrant now that he had decided to try and rectify things with Jane Bennet.

“The Gardiners will know. They can give us what news there is. And perhaps they can facilitate communication between the two of you. If you like,” Darcy said.

Bingley nodded. “Indeed, I would like it. I have thought of her often these past few weeks and I regret ever letting her go. Darcy, it is as though I am missing a part of myself and now knowing that she is going through such difficulty without me there to support her, makes me feel dreadful. Though I am unsure if she will speak to me after what I have done.”

“If what I was told is correct, she was as fond of you as you of her, and if that is so, I must surmise she still cares for you. In any case, we need to find out. If she is at her uncle’s home, you can talk to her and if not, at least we can find out the current status of the Bennet family.”

Bingley rose, but then paused. “I know why I care so much, but what of you, old friend? What is your stake in all of this? Simply guilt over your role?”

Darcy pondered telling his friend the truth, but he decided against it. He did not need to know about this humiliating turn of events. Instead he cleared his throat and managed to conjure up something akin to the truth.

“I got to know Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her sister Miss Catherine when they stayed at Rosings Park and I wish to know how they fare,” he said.

This appeared to satisfy Bingley who then rang the bell for his man who swiftly brought around their coats and top hats.

***

Arriving at the Gardiners’ house, Darcy and Bingley were greeted by a cheerful maid who showed them to the parlour and then disappeared to fetch Mrs Gardiner.

As they were settled into the chairs in the parlour, the clamour of Cheapside receded, though faint echoes of its bustling life seeped in through the closed windows.

Darcy had not been to this part of town in some years. The neighbourhood bore a character of industrious vigour, with its narrow cobblestone streets flanked by buildings of varying quality. Modest shops displayed goods in crowded windows, from ribbons and silks to cheeses and bread, while hawkers called out their wares.

It was not a setting Darcy frequently traversed, its earthy vitality a stark contrast to the rarefied order of Mayfair or Grosvenor Square. Yet, he found himself taking note of it now, reflecting on the proximity of such lively commerce to Elizabeth Bennet’s relatives. It felt odd to think of her here, in this home, to think that she had been in this space he now occupied, perhaps even sat on this same chair.

For a brief moment, he imagined her in this very parlour, laughing with her sisters, and a smile flashed across his face.

Why was he smiling? She’d turned him down in a most rude fashion. Yes, she’d had her reasons and she had been misled by Wickham, but still… She’d told him how little she cared for him and yet here he was, looking to find out how her family—and by extension she—was faring.

When Mrs Gardiner finally entered, her wearied face betrayed sleepless nights and unrelenting care. As she entered the parlour, her expression lightened with polite curiosity. Upon seeing the two gentlemen rise to greet her, she inclined her head in a measured but warm gesture.

“Mr Bingley,” she began, her voice steady but kind. “It is good to see you again.”

Darcy frowned for he had not been aware that the two had crossed paths before. Bingley, likewise, appeared puzzled but Mrs Gardiner quickly reminded him.

“We met one afternoon at Longbourn. You and my niece were about to leave for a walk when my husband and I arrived. I do not blame you for not remembering, it was but a brief interaction.”

“Of course, Bingley said in his most affable tone. “I do recall. Your children were with you. Jane spoke of them on our walk. She much adores them.”

“As they do her,” she said with a smile before turning to Darcy.

“I do not think we have had the pleasure, Mr Darcy,” she said. “Although of course I would recognise you anywhere. You look so much like your father it is uncanny.”

“You knew my father?” he asked, surprised to hear this. He did not know much about the Gardiners, other than what Elizabeth and her sister had shared while at Rosings and the bits and pieces he’d picked up during his time at Netherfield.

“My father was rector at Lambton many years ago, and your parents were always exceedingly generous to us.”

“Are you Mr Whitby’s daughter?”

She smiled broadly. “Indeed, Marjory Whitby is my maiden name.”

Darcy’s posture straightened, his guarded expression softening slightly. “I recall my father speaking highly of your father, Mrs Gardiner,” he replied. “Your family’s connection to Lambton is well known to me. My mother often mentioned your father’s diligence and wisdom in his work, and she considered his guidance invaluable to the community.”

A faint, fond smile flickered across Mrs Gardiner’s face. “I always held your mother in the highest regard. Lady Anne’s kindness was unmatched, and she set a standard of hospitality and grace that I have never forgotten. Pemberley was—indeed, I am sure, still is—a place of exceptional character under your care, Mr Darcy.”

Darcy inclined his head, feeling both humbled and uneasy at the mention of his late parents. “Thank you, Mrs Gardiner. Their legacy has always been my highest responsibility.”

Mrs Gardiner looked at him with quiet approval, the shared remembrance bringing a moment of thoughtful silence. “I confess,” she continued, “it is rather remarkable to find myself meeting you here, so many years later and so far from Derbyshire. But some connections, I suppose, endure across time and distance. Now, pray, what brings you here?”

Darcy looked at Bingley who had his hands curled into fists.

“We came to enquire after Mr Bennet’s health and the family in general. We were under the impression his eldest daughter, Miss Bennet, was here. Is she still?”

Her smile faltered. “Jane has already returned to Longbourn. It has been some weeks now, although she writes as does Elizabeth. I am afraid Mr Bennet is gravely ill. The physicians have done what they can, but…”

She stopped, drawing a slow, shaking breath. The silence that followed seemed heavy with unspoken fears. Darcy frowned, swallowing a growing unease. Bingley, his face unusually grave, murmured soft condolences, while Mrs Gardiner clasped her hands in her lap as if to steady herself.

“I understand the challenges must be immense,” Darcy said after a moment. “If there is any way we might be of service—anything at all—please say so.”

Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, and she hesitated. “You are very kind to offer, sir, but the situation is complex. There are many factors to consider.”

Bingley interjected gently, his concern evident. “Perhaps some assistance can be rendered? I—”

“Mr Collins has already interposed himself,” Mrs Gardiner interrupted with evident reluctance, “and has offered his assistance to the family. He insists he is acting out of duty, but I fear his presence has brought more strain than comfort I am afraid.”

At this, Darcy stiffened. Collins was precisely the sort of officious fool who would exacerbate rather than alleviate a crisis. Bingley frowned, sharing his friend’s unease.

“Excuse me if I am blunt but I wish Mr Collins would leave them in peace,” Mrs Gardiner admitted, her quiet exasperation escaping in a sigh. “With Mr Bennet so unwell and Mrs Bennet quite overcome, his presence serves only to complicate things. He is…” She paused, evidently struggling for a delicate term. “…rather insistent in all matters.”

Darcy’s disapproval deepened, and though he did not speak, Mrs Gardiner seemed to intuit the direction of his thoughts.

“The estate is entailed upon him, is that correct?” Bingley asked.

“Indeed. It is a shame my sister-in-law and her husband never had any sons, or that Mr Bennet managed to break the entailment, but I am afraid such is life.”

Darcy pressed his lips together. If Elizabeth had accepted his proposal—and perhaps if he had made his proposal in a manner that was less insulting to her family—he could have helped. None of this needed to have happened.

His past proposal to Elizabeth had been unequivocally refused, and their ensuing interactions had left him with little certainty about her regard. Yet the dire circumstances of the Bennet family seemed to demand action, regardless of the personal risks involved.

“I may be able to help when it comes to Mr Collins. He and my aunt are close, and I know him somewhat. I might be able to persuade him to leave Longbourn for the time being. A letter informing him he is needed at Rosings ought to suffice.”

Mrs Gardiner looked at him with a mixture of gratitude and concern. “You are a man of honour,” she said softly. “If there is hope for their protection, perhaps you are the one who can secure it. At least for the time being. However, if my brother-in-law should fail to recover, or worse still, then I do not think such a reprieve will last long.”

“I had a mind to contact Ja… Miss Bennet. Through the proper channels of course. I wondered, would you be able to write to her and let her know that I am available, should she wish to … that is to…” Bingley looked at his hands as his words trailed off.

Darcy felt a wave of sympathy for his friend, followed by another of pure guilt for he knew he had caused all of this.

“I shall write to her and tell her you called and enquired after her,” Mrs Gardiner said, putting Bingley out of his misery. “As for your offer regarding Mr Collins, if you could be of assistance, that would be helpful. The situation is rather dire I am afraid. A physician with some experience with apoplexy is coming soon and we hope he can help, but there are of course other considerations connected to that.”

Financial considerations, Darcy understood at once. But of course Mrs Gardiner could not say this out loud. Still, it was understood.

Darcy was not sure what else he could do beyond inspiring Collins to depart, but he vowed to think of something. There had to be some sort of assistance that could be rendered. Perhaps between he and Bingley they could offer a loan—but would the Bennets take it from them after everything that happened?

It did not appear as if Elizabeth had shared with Mrs Gardiner what transpired between them, but then again, she surely had other matters on her mind. But the rest of the family? Did they know what he’d said about them? And if they did, would they be willing to accept his help?

As they left the Gardiner residence and returned to their carriage, Darcy’s mind churned with thoughts. His sense of duty, intertwined with an undeniable regard for Elizabeth, urged him forward. Even so, he could not ignore the immense challenges of the path he had chosen. Elizabeth’s independence, her disdain for his charity, and her fierce loyalty to her family would make this undertaking no simple task.

He had been about to get into the carriage when Mrs Gardiner called after them. Darcy looked back, expecting her to have thought of something else related to her nieces but alas, it was not that at all.

“I almost forgot to give you my sincere congratulations on your impending nuptials, Mr Darcy.”

His stomach dropped. This again.

“Thank you,” he said and turned to leave. He had to take care of this inconvenience, sooner rather than later. A glance at his pocket watch revealed it was almost time to meet with his uncle. Perhaps Lord Matlock would be able to talk sense into his sister and get rid of at least one issue for Darcy, for as it was, things were piling up and he could not wait to be done with this troublesome situation.