Page 26 of What Comes Between Cousins
V ISCOUNT ANTHONY FITZWILLIAM , Lord of Chesterfield was becoming a problem. Under normal circumstances, Elizabeth would not have thought such things about a member of the peerage. English society, after all, was taught to revere and venerate those of high status, and Elizabeth was no different from any other.
The new feelings and sensations of being loved by Mr. Darcy—for Elizabeth was certain the man was rapidly approaching that state—rendered the viscount’s constant attempts to flatter her an annoyance. While she could not speak openly and ask him to desist, Elizabeth knew there would come a time when he would need to be told that she had no interest in him. That time came only the day after Mr. Darcy had visited, with his sweet and heady words of admiration.
It was almost too early to be receiving visitors, but when the youngest Bennets reported the sight of Lord Chesterfield on the drive of Longbourn, mounted on a grey stallion, Elizabeth knew that he had come for her.
“Lizzy,” said her mother, speaking in a hushed and hurried manner, “what does the viscount mean by importuning you in this fashion? Are you not set on Mr. Darcy?”
A laugh threatened to burst forth, but Elizabeth checked it. “I am not set upon Mr. Darcy, though I do like him very well, indeed.”
“It seems his lordship does not understand that fact yet.”
“Oh, I think he understands it very well,” muttered Elizabeth. “He simply has no intention of being bested by Mr. Darcy.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped. “The gentlemen are fighting over you?”
“I do not know,” said Elizabeth with a sigh. “Mr. Darcy’s attentions are true. But the viscount appears to be determined to pay his addresses too. I do not know what to make of him.”
The sound of someone in the hall drew the attention of them all, and Elizabeth rose in anticipation of Lord Chesterfield’s entrance, as did all her sisters. Mrs. Bennet, however, directed a thoughtful glance at her Elizabeth, and the soft sound of her voice reached Elizabeth’s ears: “Perhaps we may still turn him to Lydia.”
“Courage, Elizabeth,” said Mary, standing close by Elizabeth’s side. Elizabeth felt her sister grasp her hand and squeeze it, and Elizabeth was gratified by the support she offered.
When the gentleman was led into the room and announced by Mrs. Hill, he greeted them all with his usual amiable words. But it was clear his focus was on Elizabeth as soon as he had greeted Mrs. Bennet as was proper.
“You appear positively enchanting this morning, Miss Elizabeth,” said the viscount. He strode toward her and, upon reaching her, grasped her hand and bestowed a kiss upon its back.
It was all Elizabeth could do not to roll her eyes at this man. His flattery was back in full force, and he appeared to expect her to swoon at his feet when he employed it. Elizabeth considered it to be a particularly clumsy weapon, one which he wielded like a bludgeon rather than a precision tool she had always thought it would be. In this respect, he was, perhaps, not unlike Mr. Collins.
The very thought caused Elizabeth to hiccup as she attempted to hold in laughter. The viscount looked at her, puzzled by her reaction, while Mary regarded her with uncertainty. Elizabeth was saved when Mrs. Bennet asked Lord Chesterfield to take a seat and offered to send for refreshments.
“Thank you, Madam,” said Lord Chesterfield, bowing his head. “As always, Longbourn’s hospitality is without equal.”
Mrs. Bennet frowned as he turned the weight of his continued flattery on her, but Lord Chesterfield had already turned away. “Miss Elizabeth, it seems like it has been an age since I last saw you. I trust you—all of you—have been well?”
“We have,” replied Elizabeth. She kept her tone reserved, determined to avoid giving this man any encouragement when none was warranted.
“Good! Excellent! I am glad that it has been so.”
“And your party at Netherfield?” asked Elizabeth, feeling obliged to do so.
“All very well, thank you,” replied the viscount. He opened his mouth to say something more, but then he decided against it at the last moment.
Tea arrived some moments later and soon all were served. They sat in this attitude speaking of inconsequential matters. Or, rather, Lord Chesterfield spoke, most of his words directed at Elizabeth, and while he allowed her to respond, he often did not seem to even hear what she said. He was a man on a mission, Elizabeth thought, unwavering in his intention to complete it, regardless of what happened or what anyone else said.
“Do you often go to London?” asked Lord Chesterfield. They had been speaking of society, the viscount relating some anecdotes of his doings in London the previous season. When he turned to her, he seemed to have some expectation of her response. He did not receive whatever he expected.
“I dare say Lizzy and I will each spend upwards of a month in London every year,” interjected Jane. Elizabeth turned to look at her sister, and though Jane made no mention of it, she knew Jane was attempting to draw some of the viscount’s attention away from her to give her a respite.
“Ah, yes,” replied Lord Chesterfield, never pausing, even for a moment. “Your uncle, as I recall. Have you any other relations in London?”
“No, not a one,” replied Elizabeth. “Our father’s family consists of nothing more than distant cousins, and our mother’s other sister resides in Meryton.”
“And when you go to London, do you attend varied events?” Lord Chesterfield turned once again to direct his attention at Elizabeth. “I dare say you would be the brightest belle at any ball you attended.”
Elizabeth was starting to feel annoyed. “We rarely attend such events in London, my lord.” Lord Chesterfield’s countenance fell. “I do enjoy the theater and attending exhibits. But my uncle does not possess vouchers to Almack’s, and the Bennets have never had a presence in London.”
“I prefer the opera,” said Jane. “Lizzy, however, does not appreciate it as much.”
“Oh?” asked Lord Chesterfield. “I had thought you a connoisseur of all displays of art and culture.”
“The music is not much to my taste,” replied Elizabeth, “though there is, of course, some that is very pretty. I must prefer chamber music to opera, which I have always found loud and grating on my nerves.”
“Whereas I love the sounds of singers of true talent,” said Jane. “It is one of the few subjects on which my sister and I have ever disagreed.”
“My Lydia loves music too, do you not, my dear?” interjected Mrs. Bennet.
Lydia assumed the look of a hare in the sight of a fox. “Music is fine enough,” replied Lydia. “But I prefer to listen to it while dancing. There is nothing so fine as dancing, and I cannot think well of anyone who does not know the steps to all the popular reels.”
“A woman after my own heart,” replied Lord Chesterfield with a laugh. “I, too, dearly love to dance, Miss Lydia.”
His eyes had shifted back Elizabeth when he made his comment, clearly expecting her to say something in support. Elizabeth, however, said nothing, contenting herself with smiling at Lydia.
“And Lydia is quickly recovering from her mishap with Mr. Bennet’s cousin,” added Mrs. Bennet. “Why, when the next assembly or ball is held, I am certain she will return to her lively self.”
“I cannot imagine anything else, Mrs. Bennet,” said the viscount.
Though there was nothing in his tone to suggest interest, Mrs. Bennet acted as if he had just declared undying love for her youngest. “In that case, I expect you will wish to dance with her. In fact, I know of no young man who has caught her eye, so if you act quickly, you may secure an important set with her.”
Lord Chesterfield gaped at Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth watched, diverted at the way in which her family was distracting the man from her. Under normal circumstances, she might have been chagrinned at their behavior, but at present, she could only feel he deserved it.
“When the time comes, Mrs. Bennet,” said Lord Chesterfield after a short delay, “I am certain I would be happy to dance with Miss Lydia.
He turned and fixed his gaze upon Elizabeth. “In fact, I believe I would be happy to dance with all your daughters if they will oblige me.”’
“I am certain they would,” replied Mrs. Bennet, frowning at what she likely considered to be an obtuse man. “They are all good girls, though I say it myself. Jane is, as you must know, betrothed to Mr. Bingley now. I am sure she deserves the happiness which must result from being the focus of attention from such a good man.”
“Yes, I believe Bingley did mention something of it.” Lord Chesterfield turned what Elizabeth thought was the first genuine smile he had displayed since his arrival at Longbourn. “You have my congratulations, Miss Bennet. Bingley is, indeed, an excellent man. I am sure you will be happy with him.”
Jane smiled. “Thank you, Lord Chesterfield. I am certain I shall.”
But Lord Chesterfield had already turned away from her. “Miss Elizabeth, it is a beautiful day today. Shall we not take a turn about your family’s back gardens?”
It was so similar to what had happened when Mr. Darcy had come to visit that Elizabeth was speechless for a moment. Was he so insensible to her lack of interest in him? Or perhaps his pride could not imagine a simple country miss such as Elizabeth rejecting him.
It was not in Elizabeth’s nature to reply with rudeness, however, so she acquiesced with a few quiet words. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to inform him of her indifference without all her family looking on.
“I will go with you,” said Mary. “I feel a need for a little fresh air myself.”
The viscount turned to look at with her with astonishment. At the same time, Mrs. Bennet regarded the viscount, a pensive frown directed at him. “That is likely for the best, I should say. Remember to dress warmly, girls.”
“I assure you, Mrs. Bennet, that you may trust your daughter on the back lawn with me. Surely Miss Mary would be more comfortable staying in your sitting-room.”
“I might,” owned Mary, “but the proprieties must be observed. I will not intrude, your lordship—of that you may be certain.”
Mary’s words silenced the viscount’s objections. He still did not seem pleased, but he allowed it to pass. With their outerwear donned and footwear secured, they soon exited through the main doors and made their way around to the back of the house. As she had when Mr. Darcy had walked with Elizabeth, Mary hung back, allowing them privacy, but staying closer than she had to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy the previous day.
“You have an excellent family, Miss Elizabeth,” said the viscount as soon as they were walking the paths of the lawn. “But I appreciate this time we are able to speak together without interruption.”
Elizabeth did not respond, contenting herself with a noncommittal response, and even she was not certain what she said. Lord Chesterfield frowned; it was clear he had expected a reply of more substance. What did he expect? Should she break out in a paean of praise for the way he had forced his attentions on her? Elizabeth was determined to allow him to say what he wished without her interruption. Perhaps this interview would be finished quickly.
“I am curious, Miss Elizabeth,” said the viscount after silence had fallen between them for a few minutes. “Now that your sister is to be married, I wonder what are your plans for the future.”
“At present, I do not know that I have any plans, Lord Chesterfield. Perhaps once Jane has settled into her new home, I shall be induced to stay with her for a time. Or I may continue at Longbourn as I have. I am in no hurry to determine my future. I am, you know, not yet one and twenty.”
Lord Chesterfield fixed her with a long look. “You must have aspirations, Miss Elizabeth. Do you wish to travel, for example?”
“Seeing new places is always welcome, Lord Chesterfield,” replied Elizabeth. “But my father is not in a position such as to make frequent journeys to exotic places practical.”
“But you might attract a gentleman who loves you enough to show you those places.”
It was no less than a blatant attempt to induce Elizabeth to confess her interest in him. Elizabeth was determined not to allow the man any unwarranted hope.
“That is possible.”
It was obvious he was disappointed with her response. “Surely you wish for such a life, do you not?”
“I do, my lord. But I cannot see the future.”
He changed course. “Is there anyone in your life at present who might fulfill this desire?”
“Lord Chesterfield,” said Elizabeth, her tone admonishing. “I hardly think this is the trivial sort of detail which should be discussed between mere acquaintances.”
“And you think we are naught but inconsequential acquaintances, Miss Elizabeth?” There was some heat in his tone, and it reeked of disappointment as if she had committed some unpardonable error. “I had thought us close friends, at the very least.”
“Friends we may be. But one does not ask such a question of anything less than a family member or lover.”
As soon as Elizabeth said the final word, she knew it was a mistake to do so. The heat on the viscount’s gaze scorched her, and Elizabeth was left feeling breathless from the desire in his eyes.
But it seemed like the desire to possess, rather than the interest of a man for a woman. He was not a bad man, she knew, and she could not say for certain of what his feelings consisted. But she also did not feel the same warmth when he looked at her as she did when she was the subject of Mr. Darcy’s intensity. Perhaps he did not realize it, but that passion she had always wished to have between herself and her husband did not exist between them.
“I would wish to be that lover, Miss Elizabeth. I wish to have you as my wife all the days of our lives, to have and hold you and no other. Have I not bared my feelings enough for you to see this?”
If his plea had been that of a man, pouring his heart out to a woman, Elizabeth might have been moved by it. Moved to pity, at the very least. But there was a haughty undertone to his words that Elizabeth did not like. She could not quite put her finger on it, but it seemed to Elizabeth that he was in disbelief that she would not fall at his feet and thank him for bestowing his attention on her. A stinging retort was poised at the tip of her tongue.
But there some something else, a longing for her regard, tinged with a hint of desperation. Seeing it forced Elizabeth to remember that this was not a bad man. He was, in actuality, a man likely as good as any she had ever met. At present he was something of a misguided one, she suspected, one which had, perhaps, been a little seduced by the elevation of his position, one who was attempting to impress a woman. She could not behave with asperity toward him. He had paid her a high compliment, after all, one which, under other circumstances, she might have given her joyous acceptance.
“Lord Chesterfield,” she said, speaking in a soft and friendly tone, “I am not unaware of your feelings. I am not unaffected by the honor you have bestowed upon me. I regret to say that I am unable to accept your assurances at present.”
“But you mean to accept Darcy’s.”
Elizabeth was unsurprised by his bitterness and determined not to be affected by it. “Again, I will not answer that question, my lord. It is a private matter, and I cannot respond at this time. Believe me when I say that I do not intend to hurt you with my words.”
Many emotions seemed to pass over the viscount’s face, and Elizabeth was not certain which would reign supreme once he had regained his composure. In the end, it seemed determination had won out, for he regarded her with a fierceness which almost forced her to step back.
“Then I will prove myself to you, Miss Elizabeth. I will prove my constancy, demonstrate the true nature of my regard. I have no doubt that in the end, I shall prevail.”
“There is nothing over which to prevail,” said Elizabeth. The frustration she felt was beginning to seep into her voice. “There is nothing to prove. You are a good man, Lord Chesterfield, but I am simply not interested in a deeper relationship.”
“That will change, Miss Elizabeth—this I vow. I will show you that you can love me.”
With those final words, Lord Chesterfield turned and began to walk back toward the house, moving past a surprised Mary before she could react. Elizabeth, shocked as she was by his sudden actions, hurried after him. She thought of trying to persuade him away from this mad quest for which he had set himself, but it seemed he was determined.
When they reached the front door of the house, Lord Chesterfield turned to regard her. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a figure emerged from the shadows of the portico, interrupting whatever he was about to say.
“Lord Chesterfield. I would like to have a word with you if you will oblige me.”
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I F BENNET HAD NOT BEEN witness to the transformation of his wife in the past weeks, he might not have believed it possible. Then again, the years had altered her, and the woman he saw before him now was nothing more than his wife of old, returned to him in the most improbable circumstances.
Bennet had always known that his wife was not the most intelligent specimen. Though some of the neighborhood thought he had married her in a fit of passion, a moment of infatuation in which he was blinded by her youthful beauty and good humor, that was not precisely the truth. Yes, he had been so captivated, and it had played a part in their marriage. But the truth was that as a young woman, Mrs. Bennet had been an acceptable companion, and even after their marriage, he had found himself more than fond of her.
It was only as the years passed that she had changed, become the nervous, flighty, and loud creature he had known these past years. It had started not long after Elizabeth’s birth when a chance comment from Bennet had revealed the situation with the entail. Bennet had never truly considered it to be a problem, as he had been certain he would father a son. Though Maggie had never been able to understand the reason of entails, she had understood the consequences readily enough. And as each subsequent daughter had been born with nary an heir to protect her against the hedgerows, she had become sillier and more nervous. By the time Lydia had been born and subsequent attempts to conceive another child had failed, her character appeared fixed, and her ambition was then to marry all her daughters to wealthy gentlemen in as expedient a manner as possible.
Bennet was amazed at the changes which had been wrought in her due to her eldest daughter’s engagement and the prospects of other gentlemen paying attention to her younger daughters. She would never be a clever woman, but she had begun to remember what she had been before and was thinking a little before she acted, had learned to temper herself a little. Perhaps the years of their retirement might not be so onerous after all—if this transformation persisted, she might once again be an acceptable companion.
Underlining this change in her were the moments after Lizzy left for the back lawn in the company of Lord Chesterfield. Though Bennet had come to despise her intrusions into his bookroom over the years, of late he had been pleasantly surprised by her insights. Today was one such day.
“Mr. Bennet,” said she, entering his study after both knocking and waiting until he answered before she opened the door. “I must ask for your assistance and your attention for Lizzy.”
“For Lizzy?” asked Mr. Bennet, setting his book down on his desk. “Has your daughter got herself into some mischief?”
“No, Husband,” replied Mrs. Bennet. “But it seems Lord Chesterfield is intent upon imposing himself upon her. It is time for you to inform him that he will not be allowed to have his own way.”
Bennet’s grave look and softly spoken “Please explain” induced her to be explicit. At the end of it all, Bennet found himself once again surprised—in the past, he was certain she would have insisted Lizzy throw aside the other man for the one at hand, especially since the newest suitor was a member of the peerage.
“You say they have gone to the back lawn?” asked Bennet.
“Yes,” replied his wife. “They should be visible from your window.”
Bennet nodded and rose, going to his window and looking out over the gardens. As his wife had informed him, Lizzy stood speaking with the viscount, and from their animated exchange and her stance—feet apart, back straight—Bennet thought she was attempting to hold her own against him.
“Thank you, Maggie,” said Bennet. He stepped around the desk and gazed down at the woman he married, catching her hand and squeezing it while kissing her forehead. “You did well in coming to me. I will explain to his lordship what we expect of his behavior.”
Maggie nodded, her face suffused with a rosy hue. Bennet had not often complimented her, a fact for which he now felt more than a little guilty. She was a good woman, and while manners were a little forceful, she wanted the best for all her daughters.
With a final squeeze, Bennet left the room, hurrying toward the door. As he stepped through it, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching around the house and, expecting that his daughter and her persistent suitor had quit the gardens, he stepped behind one of the pillars to observe them.
Lord Chesterfield came into view first, his gait that of a man perturbed, while Lizzy followed behind, her rapid footsteps attempting to match the viscount’s. Mary followed Elizabeth. When they reached the edge of the entrance, Lord Chesterfield turned, his sudden movement enough to surprise Elizabeth, who stopped and met him, surprise evident in her countenance. It was time for Bennet to intervene.
“Lord Chesterfield. I would like to have a word with you if you will oblige me.”
It was clear Bennet had startled his lordship with his sudden words, for he proved his military background when he whirled and confronted Bennet as if suddenly faced with an enemy. It took him a moment before he could gather himself, a moment Bennet used to excuse his daughter from any further importuning on the part of the viscount.
“Lizzy, Mary, you may go inside. Your mother and sisters are waiting for you.”
The girls nodded and curtseyed before they fled into the house. When the door was closed behind them, Bennet turned back to regard the viscount. For his part, the man was shocked at the sudden disappearance of the object of his interest. But he gathered himself without ado and faced Bennet, a congenial smile coming over his countenance.
“I would be happy to speak with you, Mr. Bennet. What may I do for you?”
Bennet favored him with a slight smile. “It appears to me, Lord Chesterfield, that you have some interest in my daughter. By the same measure, I have also noticed the same interest from your cousin, Mr. Darcy.”
As expected, the viscount scowled at the mention of his cousin. Bennet pressed forward. “The purpose for my request to speak to you, then, is to inform you that my Lizzy— all my daughters are precious to me, and I do not wish for them to be caught between warring cousins.”
“I . . . I understand, Mr. Bennet,” said Lord Chesterfield with a visible attempt to calm himself. “I assure you, sir, I have no intention of seeing your daughter hurt. Quite the opposite, in fact. I do not know what my cousin intends, but my intentions are entirely honorable. If, perhaps, I might beg for a courtship with her, you may be assured of her continued peace of mind.”
It did not escape Bennet’s attention that this man had tried, with a subtle jab, to put Bennet on his guard regarding Mr. Darcy. Bennet searched the other man’s face, and he thought the viscount was not even aware he had done it. There was something happening here, something Bennet could not quite put his finger on. For some reason, Lord Chesterfield was desperate to woo Lizzy. Bennet was not about to stand for it.
“Have you proposed a courtship with Lizzy?”
“I have not yet,” the viscount was forced to confess. “But if I might be so bold, I will do so forthwith, with your blessing, of course.”
“At present, I think it is best to exercise prudence and refrain.” The viscount’s eyes bulged out, as if unable to credit that he was being refused. “I am sorry, my lord, but Lizzy appeared perturbed just now, and I do not wish her to be importuned with a proposal until she has regained her equilibrium.”
The viscount attempted a smile, though it was a miserable failure. “I understand. I shall return tomorrow.”
“Lord Chesterfield,” said Bennet, “whether you return tomorrow, a week from now, or every day for the next month, I would wish you to know that I will not force my daughter’s compliance. It is her decision whether to accept you, to accept Mr. Darcy, or neither.”
“Do you care nothing for your daughter’s happiness?”
“If I cared nothing for my daughter’s happiness, she would already be beyond your reach. You are aware that my cousin proposed to her.”
“Yes, but he is clearly unsuitable.”
Bennet regarded him pointedly, and the viscount had the grace to blush. “How unsuitable do you call him? He is in possession of a valuable living, one connected to your aunt, I believe, is destined to be a gentleman himself when he inherits this estate, and would have secured my family’s future in their current home.”
“But he is—” Lord Chesterfield checked himself. Bennet was quite diverted when the man hesitantly completed his thought, saying: “But the man is not the most . . . intelligent specimen.”
“You do not need to take care of your words with me. He is no less than a bacon-brained buffoon. But that is not the point. By society’s reckoning, he is respectable and able to provide my daughter a good home, making her the wife to a gentleman someday.”
“And I can make her a countess someday,” retorted Lord Chesterfield. “I might wonder why you did not simply marry her off to your cousin, then, if he possesses all these benefits.”
“Because I knew Elizabeth did not favor him.” Bennet paused and grinned, which Lord Chesterfield mimicked, though he did so with reluctance. “Had Lizzy favored him, I might have questioned her sanity, but I would not have stood in her way.”
“Mr. Bennet,” said Lord Chesterfield, “I assure you that I am not Mr. Collins. I can give her a good home, love her as she deserves, see her take a position in society which will be the envy of many. You have no need to concern yourself with her happiness if you cede her care to me.”
“I will reiterate, my lord—it is Elizabeth’s choice. I will not force her.”
“Do you not want to see your family protected?” demanded the viscount, his patience waning. “You have introduced the subject of Mr. Collins. You must know now that he will not succor your family in the event of your passing. I can secure all their futures.”
Bennet restrained a sigh and forced himself not to shake his head. This man was behaving the same way many peers of his acquaintance had when Bennet attended Oxford. “That presupposes their futures need to be ensured. You know nothing of my finances nor whether I have provided for my daughters, and I will thank you not to assume or listen to every rumor you have heard. The betrothal between Mr. Bingley and my eldest also gives them some additional support.”
“Bingley is in no way able to see to their care as I am,” replied Lord Chesterfield. “He possesses not a fraction of the wealth of my father’s earldom.”
“I am certain you are correct, sir. But be that as it may, I have no intention of bartering my daughter for my family’s security. I shall inform you for the last time, it is Elizabeth’s choice. If she chooses to refuse your offer, I will support her. Do you understand?”
“I do,” replied Lord Chesterfield, “though I cannot fathom what you are thinking.”
“I am thinking of my daughter’s happiness, my lord,” replied Bennet. “Nothing more, and nothing less. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe the time has come for you to depart.”
Lord Chesterfield gave a jerky bow and turned to stalk away. Bennet watched him go, noting the stiff quickness of his stride, and he sighed. It was time to have a word with Elizabeth. Perhaps it was best to simply forbid her contact with either young man, regardless of the fuss his wife would undoubtedly raise.