Pride Prejudice and Prodigy

Parsonage to Let

Part Two

Chapter 9 ~ Parsonage to Let

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a married woman in possession of a good man, is certain her friends must be in want of a husband.

Thus it was, that the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, who for some six months had enjoyed the exalted name and happy life of Mrs Elizabeth Darcy of Pemberley, considered the predicament of her dear friend, Julia Darlington, who that very morning, had departed Derbyshire to return to her mother in Hertfordshire. Elizabeth, in the full flush of conjugal felicity, was eager for her friend to be equally blessed. James Darlington's first novel had been a great success, and thus Julia was no longer obliged to seek employment as a music teacher. Thankfully, her employment had been of but a short duration, and Elizabeth could see no reason why it should very greatly damage her marriage prospects. Of far greater concern was her friend's disinclination to seriously consider the subject.

Elizabeth had made great efforts during Julia's visit to introduce her to a number of suitable gentlemen, including the new rector of Kympton, Mr Fortnum, a most charming and handsome gentleman from an excellent local family of some wealth. Mr Fortnum's circumstances were comfortable, and while a wife who might bring money into a marriage would be welcome, it was of no necessity. He was a great lover of music, and Elizabeth, having watched him closely, particularly when Julia was at the pianoforte, or violin, or singing, was convinced that he admired her friend greatly. But Julia would not put herself forward, and gave the gentleman not the least encouragement. Elizabeth was forced to conclude, unhappily, that her friend's heart was still too full of Colonel Fitzwilliam to think of any other man.

There was also her sister, Georgiana, to consider; although she was yet young. Elizabeth was presently engaged in a programme of improvement for Miss Darcy. Georgiana excelled in all the usual accomplishments, but she was still very shy in company, especially that of gentlemen. Elizabeth suspected that her lack of confidence derived, in part, from the unhappy events involving George Wickham when she was but fifteen, and that it would take time before she would again put her trust in a gentleman, or believe that she was admired for herself – rather than her considerable fortune. To that end, Elizabeth had decided upon a course of reading and improvement of the mind. If Georgiana believed herself to be well-informed and knowledgeable, she would learn to trust in her own judgements; and moreover, feel confident in expressing her opinions and ideas without fear. A sharpness of mind was one of the qualities Elizabeth admired most in her husband, and she was pleased to discover that his sister was more than his equal in that regard.

One evening, while sitting with her husband in her upstairs apartment, he commented favourably on the improvements he had observed in his sister. Having seen Elizabeth sport frequently with her brother, who appeared to relish his wife's playfulness, Georgiana had become aware of his softer side. She found herself more at ease in his company, and confident in answering his questions regarding her reading and general opinions. “You have worked wonders with, Georgiana,” he said gratefully to his wife.

“And yet, I feel there is something more she needs, which I am unable to provide,” replied Elizabeth.

“Oh?” asked he. “What is that?”

“Georgiana is still exceedingly shy in company, outside of the immediate family circle. I wonder if growing up without a mother may be partly the cause,” conjectured Elizabeth.

“When she was younger, Georgiana had excellent governesses, and then later respectable older companions – although one can sometimes be deceived in their character,” he said, frowning as he recalled Mrs Younge and the unfortunate events which had occurred at Ramsgate.

Elizabeth guessed what his thoughts must be. “You must not blame yourself, darling; you did everything you could to benefit and protect Georgiana.” Then endeavouring to divert his mind, she steered the conversation to her intended subject. “Although the connection with your sister may be less than immediately apparent, I wished to enquire about your plans for the parsonage at Kympton. I understand that Mr Fortnum does not intend to take up residence there, being already in possession of a grander family property, nearby.”

“That is correct, dear, but what has this to do with Georgiana? Were you thinking of her marrying Harold Fortnum?” he asked doubtfully.

Elizabeth shook her head. Though she loved him dearly, she sometimes found him quite obtuse in such matters. How could he have failed to notice that it was Julia, not Georgiana, whom she was forwarding as a match for Mr Fortnum. “No darling, not for a moment,” she reassured him.

“I do hope you were not offended at my offering the Kympton living to Fortnum; he is an old acquaintance; the Fortnums and Darcys go back many generations.”

“No, of course not; why ever should I mind?” asked Elizabeth, puzzled.

“Well, I am aware that Charlotte Collins was your closet friend before you both were married and, well… I imagined you would like to have her living close by. Err… there will be other gifts, in the future—”

But he stopped on account of the laughter his comments had provoked in his wife.

“My dear Mr Darcy,” she said, attempting a straight face. “If you dare offer anything in your gift to that absurd Mr Collins, I shall never speak to you again!”

“I am greatly relieved to hear it,” he said.

“As much as I would love to have Charlotte living nearby and frequently dining with us at Pemberley, it would come at far too high a price. In any case, it would be most unkind, and exceedingly unchristian of you to deny Lady Catherine de Bourgh Mr Collins' obsequious grovelling, from which her ladyship derives such satisfaction. And, it would be equally unkind to Mr Collins, I think, to deny him so haughty and arrogant an object before whom to pay his heartfelt obeisance. Why, they seem to have been designed for each other.”

When they had finished laughing, Elizabeth said, “But getting back to the parsonage; I suppose you are planning on letting it?”

“Yes, that was my intention; but there is no great urgency. Please do not trouble yourself about it, Elizabeth; my steward will take care of the business.”

“It is only that I was thinking it might be possible to find both a tenant, and at the same time, a person who might be able to provide the maternal guidance and counsel which would benefit Georgiana.”

Darcy straightened up in his chair and regarding his wife apprehensively, he said warily, “You mean an older woman, err… such as your mother?”

Elizabeth laughed. How could he think, even for a moment that she would wish to visit such a thing upon him – or herself. “Oh, darling, sometimes you are so delightfully naïve. My mother would hardly answer to the purpose – although, my father might approve of the scheme.”

Darcy laughed sheepishly. “I would prefer it the other way around, I think: having your father at Kympton and your mother in Hertfordshire. I must say, I have come to appreciate his company a great deal, and always enjoy his unexpected visits. But who, then, are you thinking of for the parsonage, Elizabeth?”

“Lady Darlington,” replied Elizabeth. “She is a lovely, warm, wise, lady; and greatly knowledgeable in the ways of the world. Not only would she be perfect for Georgiana, but she would be a great help to me, also. Sometimes, darling, I find myself in situations where I have no idea of the correct way to proceed. Luckily, Reynolds, the housekeeper, has an excellent memory, and is often able to recall how your late mother dealt with a similar circumstance – but not always. Lady Darlington is used to running an establishment of a similar size to Pemberley, and it would be wonderful to have her nearby where I can seek her advice at such times. I have always envied Julia Darlington such a mother. And of course Julia would be living with her. She is now my dearest friend, and Georgiana also loves her. We would all of us be so happy.”

“Yes, it seems like a most agreeable arrangement for all concerned. But Lady Darlington may have no wish of giving up her present house in Hertfordshire and coming into Derbyshire.”

“Oh, that will not be the slightest problem. Lady Darlington and her daughter are presently living in a tiny cottage that was all they could afford at the time they were forced to leave Darlington Hall. Their circumstances, however, are now much improved. James Darlington has been very successful; his first novel is exceedingly popular and he expects to publish his second very soon.”

“So, Lady Darlington wishes to find something a little more comfortable, I take it? But the Kympton parsonage may not suit her. It may be beyond her means – or, perhaps, not grand enough. She may not wish to leave Hertfordshire for Derbyshire. There are many questions for her to consider.”

“But darling, I have already discussed the arrangements in detail with Julia, while she was visiting with us. Julia, Georgiana, and I made an outing to Kympton a week ago in my phaeton, and walked about the parsonage. Julia was delighted with it, and immediately wrote her mother, who is likewise enthusiastic at the plan.”

“So it is all settled then?” asked Darcy, more in amusement than annoyance. Elizabeth never failed to surprise him.

“Of course not, my dear. It is entirely contingent upon your approval; but I did not wish to trouble you about it until I was certain that Lady Darlington approved of the scheme.”

“That was most considerate of you, my dear,” said Darcy, smiling. “I shall have my steward write to Mr Darlington to settle the matter. I will instruct him to make the rent very reasonable.”

“Thank you, dear,” replied Elizabeth. “You are most kind.”

“Err… you wouldn't happen to know of Mr Darlington's London address, by any chance?” he asked hesitantly.

“Indeed I do, it is in my writing desk,” she replied, rising to fetch it.

Darcy became grave, but said nothing. He wished very much to know if his wife had exchanged letters with Darlington, but could not ask her so impertinent a question.

“Here it is, dear,” said Elizabeth, handing him a card. “Julia wrote it down for me, expressly for the purpose of settling the matter of the parsonage.”

“Oh, of course,” said Darcy, greatly relieved. Though he had experienced even greater joy and happiness with his beloved Elizabeth than he had dared to imagine, the name of James Darlington always caused him just a little uneasiness.

“Elizabeth, my dear, I have a confession I must make to you,” he said gravely. “One which I ought to have made many months ago… that I have been wishing to make all this time; but somehow have found myself quite unable to begin.”

“Yes, dear?” asked Elizabeth, encouragingly.

Darcy sighed as he attempted to find the right words. “I should really have told you in Hertfordshire, before I asked you to marry me.”

“Oh?”

“If you recall, the renewal of my addresses proceeded from your thanking me for my efforts, regarding the marriage of your sister, Lydia.”

“Darling, you may rest assured that I remember every single word of that delightful conversation; it is one that I shall cherish all my days,” she said, smiling lovingly at him.

“Yes, and I too,” said Darcy with feeling, before continuing on a less confident note. “But, there was something that I really should have told you when you thanked me – which I did not.”

“Well never mind, dear, you may tell me now what you forgot to tell me then; I am sure it cannot be anything so terrible that I would have refused you a second time.”

“No, of course not, it is nothing terrible… it is only that it was not a matter of forgetfulness; it was rather a matter of choosing to conceal something. It was, of course, always my intention to tell you of it, but… I was afraid to mention it until I was certain you would have me,” he said ashamedly. “And then, when you accepted me, I felt so unutterably happy, that I entirely forgot about it.”

“Until now?” she asked.

“No, of course not, it was but a day or two afterwards, but by then it was become more difficult to mention, because I was then obliged to explain my original reticence, and the longer I left it, the more difficult it became.”

“I think you had better tell me at once, my dear, before it becomes even more difficult,” said Elizabeth becoming more and more curious.

“Right then!” said he, steeling himself for the great revelation. “You may recall telling me, that it was your sister Lydia, who first betrayed my involvement in the marriage, and that you then wrote to your Aunt Gardiner, who revealed to you all she knew.”

“Yes dear, it was exactly so.”

“Well, there was something important she could not have written of in her letter; something of which she herself was quite ignorant,” he said with a sigh.

“Yes dear?” prompted Elizabeth.

“All right then, I shall tell you, and think what you will,” he said, desperate to be done with it. “I did not act alone in convincing George Wickham to marry your sister; I received assistance from another quarter, without which it is quite likely the marriage would never have taken place at all.” Darcy heaved a sigh of relief at having finally made a clean breast of it; but he could not quite meet his wife's eyes.

“Oh, you must mean James Darlington – or perhaps I should say: Josephine Defoe?”

Darcy looked up at her, completely stunned. “What? You know! My god, for how long have you known of it?” he demanded.

“I had guessed that Josephine Defoe was, in fact, James Darlington some time before the whole business with Wickham and my sister, Lydia. I imagine, my dear, that you have not read A Romance in Four Seasons?”

“As you well know, Elizabeth, I am no great reader of novels. I merely read the author's note at the end of the chapter, which Mr Darlington handed me to pass on to Wickham.”

“I think you should make an exception in the case of the work of Josephine Defoe; you will very likely find characters and situations therein which strike you as somewhat familiar. The heroine of A Romance in Four Seasons is a young lady by the name of Evelyn, who is strikingly similar to myself in many ways.”

“Then I shall certainly read it,” said Darcy, smiling.

“So you see, darling, as soon as I saw the author's note, and knowing as I did his true identity, I was in no doubt as to who was being threatened with exposure. I read the chapter a day or so after receiving my aunt's letter. I always knew that James Darlington was involved in the business.”

Darcy laughed and shook his head. “So I have been worrying about it unnecessarily all these months; how silly of me.”

“But, why ever did you wish to conceal it from me in the first place?” asked Elizabeth, smiling innocently – although she had long ago answered that very question to her own satisfaction.

“The truth of the matter, dearest Elizabeth, is that I was for a time uncertain of your feelings for James Darlington. I feared he might be a competitor for your heart; which is why I was so awkward around you when I visited Longbourn with Bingley, and then again at the dinner party. You know not the anguish I felt at observing your long and intimate tête-à-tête with Darlington across your parents' drawing room that evening.”

Elizabeth laughed. “But we were talking of you!”

“Me?” asked Darcy in astonishment.

“Yes, dear. I thanked him for Josephine Defoe's efforts in forwarding my sister's marriage, and he responded by telling me that his part was but a minor one, and that all was owed to another – while looking pointedly in your direction. He even conjectured that the other party might have a hidden motive in the matter.”

“Did he, indeed? He's a jolly decent chap, Darlington; amazing perspicacity; although at times, I must admit, it borders on the alarming.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Elizabeth with a smile, “it can be quite alarming.”

Darcy looked at his wife curiously, waiting for her to speak further on the subject of Darlington's abilities to fathom the hearts and minds of others – or indeed anything at all about that gentleman; but she remained silent, and instead rose and sat herself beside him on the couch. “You deserve a kiss, darling, for being so brave in finally making your confession.”

Although Darcy was no longer jealous of James Darlington, he sometimes wondered what Elizabeth might have once felt for that gentleman before their marriage. He was well aware that given Darlington's circumstances, neither of them could have seriously contemplated marriage. But what if it had been different, he asked himself. What if Darlington had not been impoverished?

Elizabeth, who was not wanting in perspicacity herself, particularly concerning her husband, had some inkling of these unasked questions. If ever he summoned the courage to ask them, she would have not the least difficulty in answering them to his satisfaction. She sometimes even thought of introducing the subject herself; but, on the whole, she decided that for a husband to have just the tiniest doubt concerning his wife's affections, was not entirely a bad thing.