Pride Prejudice and Prodigy

Ladies in London

Chapter 5 ~ Ladies in London

Elizabeth had hoped to see Julia Darlington during her brief stay in London on the journey to Hunsford, and was disappointed at Julia's reply to her letter, expressing regret at being unable to attend her on that day. She was therefore pleased when Julia acceded to her further invitation to wait upon her and Jane at Gracechurch Street, where she would spend a day or two upon her return journey.

“She is probably as eager to see us as we are to see her,” reflected Jane, “but she will have felt it impossible to visit Gracechurch Street before this time, knowing that she is unable to reciprocate the courtesy. However, as we both depart for Hertfordshire tomorrow, she is now able to visit without that embarrassment.”

“I am certain you are right, Jane, but, sometimes I find all these conventions a trifle oppressive and vexing. Do you not?”

Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise. “I see what you mean, Lizzy; it is indeed sad when social etiquette keeps true friends apart; but generally speaking, it does no good to trouble oneself over matters one is powerless to amend, such as social forms and rules of behaviour. It is a little akin to learning a new dance: one does not question the value of its movements, or why one must execute this or that step – one simply attempts to become as proficient as possible in its performance.”

Elizabeth sighed and nodded. She did not say it, but she clearly saw the influence of James Darlington's freethinking attitudes upon her own. That young man, who provoked such strong and contradictory feelings in her, had been very much in her thoughts of late. Mr Darcy's letter had turned her opinions of both its writer and George Wickham upon their heads, and she could not help but concede that James Darlington had been completely correct in his estimation of them both… while she had been most grievously in error.

All three gentlemen had inhabited her night-time dreams for some weeks; and she could conjecture not their meaning. Each of them, at different times, had taken the part of a villain; and yet on other occasions, the role of a charming, heroic and noble admirer; a lover whose attentions were not in the least unwelcome. Since Mr Darcy's letter, George Wickham's appearances had been solely in the role of a reprobate and rake; and in her waking mind Elizabeth, was now convinced of his black character. But as to the other two gentlemen, she felt nothing but confusion. What does it matter? Why do they trouble my mind? she asked herself repeatedly without finding a satisfactory answer – or at least one to which she was willing to own.

***

On the morning that Julia came to wait on Jane and Elizabeth, their Aunt Gardner was out visiting. The three young ladies were very glad to be together in each other's company after so many months, and there was much to be said. Julia was at pains to assure her friends that her situation was not nearly so bad as they feared.

“By a stroke of good fortune, I happened upon an old acquaintance upon first arriving in London. The gentleman was aware of the altered circumstances of my family, and when I made known to him my intention of earning a living as a teacher of music, he assisted me in obtaining an excellent situation instructing his cousin. She is a charming young lady, greatly talented, and a most diligent student. I cannot tell you how delightful it is to be in her company. In order to forward my efforts at finding other pupils, she persuaded her brother to give a small musical soirée at their residence on Grosvenor Square, at which I performed on the pianoforte and violin before several other young ladies and their mothers. In consequence of her great kindness, I am now much occupied in teaching music to a number of young ladies of good family.”

“That is wonderful news,” said Jane, “I am so happy for you.” She wanted to enquire if Julia felt uncomfortable at finding herself in the service of those who previously would have looked upon her as an equal – at least. But she was too kind to ask the question which was likewise uppermost in her sister Elizabeth's mind.

Julia could guess at their thoughts and attempted to ease their disquiet. “I know you must think it a great embarrassment for me, but it is not so. At the soirée, my pupil, as well as her brother, treated me with such honour and respect, that the guests took their lead from them, and I have been accorded great kindness and consideration in the houses of all my pupils.”

“But you cannot have been received as you would previously have been?” conjectured Elizabeth.

“No, of course not,” replied Julia, “that would not be possible. Nevertheless, I have been treated far better than I had anticipated, particularly by Georgiana Darcy, my first student.”

“Georgiana Darcy?” exclaimed Elizabeth, all amazed.

“Yes, are you acquainted with the young lady?” asked Julia.

“No, I have never met her,” replied Elizabeth, and then after a pause added quickly, “but I am somewhat acquainted with her brother. He was a guest last year at a residence in the neighbourhood of Longbourn.”

“I have had some acquaintance with Mr Darcy over the years, but I had not the least idea that he, too, was in Hertfordshire, and so close by, at the time my mother and I were enjoying your most generous hospitality. Where, pray tell, was Mr Darcy staying?”

Elizabeth who wanted to avoid the subject of Mr Bingley in front of her sister, now felt called upon to mention him. “With a friend of his, a Mr Bingley, who took the lease on Netherfield Park at Michaelmas. But the entire party had returned to London prior to your arrival at Longbourn.”

Nothing of Bingley and Jane had ever been mentioned before Julia, and she was entirely unaware of their thwarted romance. “You must be speaking of Charles Bingley. I met that gentleman at Grosvenor Square; a most charming and amiable young man, although somewhat dispirited and sad, I thought. One suspects that he has suffered in love, or is pining after a lady.”

Elizabeth glanced quickly sideways at Jane, and saw how uncomfortable she became at Julia's words. Seeking to turn the conversation in a different direction, she asked Julia if the cousin of Georgiana Darcy, whom she had met with upon her arrival in London, was perchance an officer by the name of Colonel Fitzwilliam. To her utter astonishment, Julia's reaction at hearing his name was even more marked than Jane's had been at the mention of Mr Bingley. Julia blushed deeply and turned her face away, quite unable to respond to Elizabeth, or even to look at her.

“Oh!” exclaimed Elizabeth, warmly. “Is he the gentleman who …?”

Jane looked at her sister uncomprehendingly, while Julia continued to hide her face. “Lizzy,” her sister demanded, “what is this all about, pray tell?”

Elizabeth knew not how to proceed. In attempting to alleviate Jane's discomfort, she had unwittingly caused even greater discomfiture and confusion to Julia. She gave Jane a quick glance, which conveyed her desire that the subject be dropped; but to her surprise, Julia spoke on it herself.

“When did you meet with him?” she asked, with an equal measure of curiosity and embarrassment.

“As you know, I am just now returned from visiting my dear friend Charlotte Collins, who has lately married the rector at Hunsford. The parsonage is adjacent to the great estate of Rosings Park, the residence of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. We were frequently invited to dine at Rosings Park, where Colonel Fitzwilliam and his cousin Mr Darcy were paying a visit to their aunt.”

“How did you like him?” asked Julia eagerly, her eyes shining brightly.

Elizabeth had not the least doubt that the ‘he' was Colonel Fitzwilliam, rather than Mr Darcy. Now she understood the look of sadness on the colonel's face when he said to her one day as they were out walking, ‘in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like.' In her vanity, she had imagined his heartfelt regret was perhaps on her account, but now she understood that he was thinking of Julia. Colonel Fitzwilliam was her friend's erstwhile lover – and Lady Catherine was the domineering and avaricious aunt who had demanded an extravagant fortune of Lord Darlington, and thus kept the young lovers apart. It all fell into place now. She recalled Colonel Fitzwilliam saying, ‘A younger son must be inured to self-denial and dependence.' Clearly the dependence was a reference to his aunt.

Elizabeth felt all the awkwardness of her situation. Julia wanted to hear him praised –and Elizabeth could satisfy her friend creditably, and with complete sincerity. But would it be kind to speak as warmly as she felt on the character of the man who must now be forever denied her? Should she disclose her suspicions of how keenly the colonel felt her loss? No, it was like the knowledge she had lately gained concerning Mr Bingley, which revealed his affections for Jane to have been strong and true, and his failure to return to Hertfordshire, entirely on account of the mischief of his friend, Mr Darcy.

Elizabeth chose her words carefully. “I found him to be a well-bred man, with pleasant conversation and delightful manners.” Fearing she had spoken too warmly of him, she went on, “I must confess that I was not so well satisfied with his aunt. She is so full of her own self-importance and superiority; and so certain in all her opinions. I found being in her presence something of a trial.”

Jane had by now comprehended the roles played by Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lady Catherine de Bourgh in Julia's recent history, and to save her friend the pain of regret, and thoughts of disappointed hopes, she introduced another topic into their conversation. Elizabeth too, was happy to leave Hunsford and Rosings Park behind; for fear that Mr Darcy might again receive mention. She felt herself quite unable to talk without embarrassment on that gentleman, about whom her opinions had recently undergone so material an alteration; and were, as yet, quite unsettled.

The remainder of the visit passed agreeably, and Elizabeth's good humour and enjoyment was only disturbed briefly when the name of James Darlington arose. Julia was aware that Elizabeth had met her beloved younger brother, and was eager to hear her praise him. Although Mr Darcy had largely supplanted James Darlington in her thoughts over recent weeks, when they did turn to Mr Darlington, the confusion of opinions and conflicting emotions were equal to those aroused by the other gentleman. Elizabeth succeeded in satisfying Julia by talking warmly of her brother's great talent as an artist; and of his wonderfully informed mind; and how much her father appreciated both his conversation and his company.

***

Julia had entrusted to the Miss Bennets letters for her mother and brother, which they had promised to deliver at the earliest opportunity upon their return to Hertfordshire. Thus, not many days after their return home, the sisters found themselves sitting in Lady Darlington's kitchen, listening to her son's exquisite performance on the violin. It was a lyrical, emotionally-charged piece, and neither of them had ever heard anything so beautiful. Elizabeth felt as if the musician were playing on her very heartstrings. Jane too, could not but help be affected and was quite overcome by the young gentleman, whom she was meeting for the first time.

Jane's heart, however, was quite safe, being entirely fixed upon Charles Bingley; though she would not own it to anyone, not even Elizabeth. “That was the loveliest music I have ever heard, Mr Darlington,” she said when he was finished.

“It is a favourite of mine from a little-known Italian composer; although it was intended, I believe, as chamber music – rather than kitchen music,” he said with a smile. “Sadly, I must beg you ladies to excuse me, as I have pressing business to attend to.”

His secret project, thought Elizabeth to herself, recalling her conversation with his mother in this very kitchen several months ago. She was extremely curious to learn more about it, but was nevertheless relieved when the gentleman left the room. She remembered their last conversation – although in truth it was more of the nature of an altercation – regarding the respective characters of Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy. Elizabeth was not looking forward to conceding just how wrong she had been.

***

Unluckily for Elizabeth, her father had invited James Darlington to dine with them not many days after her return to Longbourn, and unhappily for her, he came upon her walking alone in the garden on his arrival. “I hope you had a pleasant visit in Kent, Miss Bennet.”

“Yes, I did, thank you,” she replied uneasily, alarmed at where the conversation might be leading.

“My sister Julia mentions in her letter that you had the pleasure of meeting her former admirer, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“Indeed, yes, he is a delightful and charming man. The parsonage where my friend Mrs Collins resides is but a short distance from Rosings Park, the home of Mr Collins's patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh; and we were often invited to dine there.”

“You have my greatest sympathy,” he said bluntly, “she is the most proud, arrogant, self-centred, and interfering of ladies. The very little time I have been in her company has been more than sufficient, I can assure you.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I believe, sir, that we have found someone about whom our opinions are in complete accord. I know what difficulty and pain that lady has caused your family, and more particularly your sister, Julia. Although I previously knew of her disappointed marriage hopes, and the part her suitor's aunt had played in the affair, I was not aware at the time of my visit to Kent that Lady Catherine and her nephew were the persons concerned. It was not until my recent meeting with your sister in London, that I became aware of their identities, and even then, Julia did not volunteer the information. I guessed it from her embarrassment when I uttered the nephew's name.”

“It is a very sad affair,” he replied, shaking his head and sinking for a time into a silent reverie, before looking up at Elizabeth and saying, “Julia mentioned, I think, that Darcy was also at Rosings… that must have made it doubly unpleasant for you, Miss Bennet. Or did you find, perhaps, that he improved upon acquaintance?”

Elizabeth's fears when he first alluded to her visit to Kent that the conversation would inevitably lead to Mr Darcy had been well-founded. He was the very last person whom she wished to discuss with James Darlington. Why? Certainly there was discomfort on account of their previous conversation about Mr Darcy, because James Darlington had been absolutely correct – and not just about Darcy, but George Wickham also – while she had been entirely mistaken in the matter.

Yet there was something more; something related to the dreams which came to her at night. Even in her waking hours, both Mr Darcy and Mr Darlington were very often in her thoughts. What completely discomposed her was the suspicion that James Darlington was somehow aware of it all – just as in the portrait he painted of her he seemed to penetrate to her very soul. How was it possible? Was it mere fancy? She earnestly hoped it was.

Elizabeth decided that the best way to relieve her discomfort was to take advantage of his question to make a complete breast of the matter. “One hates to admit that one has been mistaken in one's opinions, sir, particularly after speaking so strongly on them. Yes indeed, Mr Darcy did improve upon acquaintance, and I most contritely concede that you were almost entirely correct concerning the character of that gentleman, although I still hold Mr Darcy to be proud and somewhat arrogant.”

Elizabeth expected him to make fun of her and ridicule her previous words, but he simply nodded graciously and said, “Then do you also admit, that if Darcy is no villain, then Wickham – who even now, takes every opportunity to put himself forward by blackening Darcy's name – can likewise be no saint?”

“Indeed I do admit it, sir. While in Kent I received information about Mr Wickham and his dealings with Mr Darcy which has persuaded me that Mr Wickham is nothing more than a charming, plausible, liar; and I am acutely embarrassed to have been so roundly deceived by him.”

“I cannot blame you, Miss Bennet; the man is a most accomplished performer, and no doubt his fine looks and flattering ways make it especially difficult for a young lady to see beyond his charming façade. I have the advantage of you there, not to mention a good deal of serious and scientific study of human nature.”

Elizabeth was most grateful at this kindness and generosity – it was quite unexpected. Nevertheless, she felt embarrassed, and was eager to turn the conversation in another direction. “Your mother mentioned – perhaps she should not have – that you are much occupied in some endeavour of a literary kind, with the hope of remuneration. May I ask you what it is sir?”

“You are most welcome to ask, Miss Bennet – it is a wonderful device, I dare say, to move the conversation to a less vexing subject – but I may be unwilling to satisfy your curiosity in the matter.”

Elizabeth blushed, he had done it again – it was almost as if he could read her thoughts – which, if true, would be shocking indeed. “But why, sir, must you be so secretive? Perhaps you are ashamed of your endeavours?”

“No, I am not ashamed – not in the least. But some persons might find them unbefitting a gentleman,” he said.

“But sir, in the past, you have shown yourself to be quite unconcerned at the opinions and judgements of others – what pray tell has led to such a change in outlook?”

“Generally speaking, my outlook is quite unchanged… yet there are those persons in whose eyes I do not wish to be found wanting.”

If Elizabeth were in any doubt as to his meaning, the colour which came most handsomely to his cheeks left none whatsoever, and caused her heart to beat suddenly harder. She turned her head away to hide the colour that had come to her own face, and to avoid his entreating eyes. This was more than flattery; it was undeniably an indication of preference. She knew not how to respond, and feared that any reply might tell him more of her feelings than she wished him to know.

The gentleman, who in an unguarded moment, had revealed far more than he had intended, quickly recovered himself. “It cannot be very difficult, Miss Bennet, for a person of your sharpness of mind, to guess the nature of my secret endeavour.”

Elizabeth was relieved to be delivered from a most awkward moment, and seriously applied her mind to the question. “Well, sir, piecing together the information at hand: it is a literary endeavour, which you hope will provide a good income… and it is one that some may consider lacking in respectability.”

“Correct on all counts, although my enterprise does not necessarily lack respectability, in and of itself. As you noted apropos my painting and gaming: the want of respectability is entirely due to my lack of fortune. Had I no need of the money that such an activity provides, I could carry it on blamelessly.”

“You are writing a novel, sir,” said Elizabeth smiling. “No other kind of literary work – if a novel can be so-called – would earn you very much at all. Now I am curious to know all about it. Is it a romance?”

“My lips are sealed; I will speak not another word on the subject.”

“Then I shall have to wait until it is published, and then you shall know my opinion, for I am a great reader; and a critical judge of novels, Mr Darlington.”

“You shall not know it is my work, Miss Bennet, for I publish everything, other than my poetry, under a nom de plume.”

“Have you already had something published other than poetry, sir?”

“I have been an irregular contributor of reviews and other occasional pieces in the Monthly Review for several years – mostly before the plague of poverty was visited upon me, thus surely you must agree, Miss Bennet, that it was the work of a gentleman – since I was not then in want of the remuneration. But now I am, and as you have guessed, I am working on a novel. It may not be the pinnacle of literary achievement, but I find it a thoroughly enjoyable pastime; and it is unquestionably the most rewarding in monetary terms.”

“Surely that depends upon how well it is received by the public, and the number of copies sold? Or is it simply a matter of how much the publisher is willing to pay for the manuscript?”

“There are various ways of going about getting one's work published. One may simply sell the manuscript, in which case the remuneration is a question of the opinion of the publisher, rather than the reading public. There are arrangements by which the publisher pays the author a lesser sum for the manuscript, but agrees to pay a small royalty on each copy sold. Or, the author may elect to receive nothing for the manuscript – he may even choose to pay for the printing – and thereby receive a much larger royalty.”

“The latter scheme, I imagine, would only benefit the author if his – or her – work were popular,” said Elizabeth. “It involves a gamble, but unfortunately you are not in a position to choose it, as it would require a substantial sum of money.”

“Yet that is exactly what I have chosen,” he replied. Elizabeth looked at him questioningly; so he continued. “In addition to my magnum opus, I have lately begun writing an amusing little tale which is being published in serial form. I am paid weekly for each instalment, which will not only make up for the loss of gambling income with the imminent departure of the militia for Brighton, but should provide enough to cover the cost of printing my novel when it is completed.”

“If I may say, you seem rather sure of yourself, Mr Darlington. Your mother showed me some of your poetry, and I thought it wonderful – your sonnets especially. But not every accomplished poet is a Mrs Radcliff.”

“Quite so, Miss Bennet. It is a sad reflection, is it not, that a great work such as ‘Ozymandias' will never be as popular as ‘The Mysteries of Udolpho' – not that I would dare compare myself to the great poet Shelley – or the talented Mrs Radcliff. Nevertheless, I am encouraged by the reception my serialised story has thus far enjoyed.”

“And I suppose you will refuse to divulge the name?”

The gentleman smiled awkwardly and looked away. Elizabeth could see that he had become most uncomfortable, but could not comprehend the reason. Fortunately, for Mr Darlington, at that very moment, Mary came from the house to announce the meal, and all opportunity of continuing the conversation and learning the name of his serialised story was denied her.