Mary Simonsen - A Wife for Mr Darcy

With the exception of Jane and Bingley, who were clearly enjoying each other’s company, supper proved to be a somber event. The sisters were still upset at Charles’s announced intention of marrying whomever he pleased as they knew full well that it would please him to marry Miss Bennet. Mr. Hurst, as usual, had nothing to add as his only interests were in food, wine, and cards, and the engaging Mr. Darcy of the morning was missing. He was distracted and made no effort to converse with anyone. After removing to the drawing room, he once again chose to write letters, but even so, Lizzy found that he was often glancing in her direction, but in an abstracted manner, as if he were looking past her to things he must do when free of Netherfield.

Mr. Darcy was thinking of Elizabeth. During their walk in the grove, he had found himself so attracted to her that he had decided that it would be best if he left Netherfield immediately and not to wait for the ball. What purpose would be served by remaining? He was enchanted with a lady whose position in life was so beneath his own that any possible alliance was out of the question. Besides, he was not of a nature to toy with a woman’s affections, and he had already made overtures to Letitia Montford. It would indicate a deficiency in his character if he were to alter his course now. He just wished that Elizabeth had not chosen to wear her hair down for supper as he could think of no other sight that brought him more pleasure.

Although Jane Bennet had been gone from Netherfield for only one day, Charles informed his sisters that he intended to ride over to Longbourn to see her. Unsurprisingly, Louisa and Caroline were unhappy with his plans and launched a two-pronged attack.

“You are being ridiculous,” Caroline began. “There cannot possibly be a change in her health in such a short time.”

“You do not want to give the appearance of being a love-struck adolescent, now do you, Charles?” Louisa added.

“I do not care if it was only an hour ago that Miss Bennet left. I am going to Longbourn, and since I am in love with the lady, if people wish to call me a love-struck adolescent, so be it.”

“And what of Mr. Darcy, who came here to shoot?” Caroline asked. “You have neglected your duties as host as he has done no shooting at all because you have been distracted with other matters.”

“Do not trouble yourself on my account, Miss Bingley,” Darcy said, quickly jumping in. “I think it may work to our advantage. The birds will be lulled into a false sense of security thinking that there will be no shoot this year, and they will get careless and expose themselves.” Seeing the look of bewilderment on their faces, he continued, “Or we may find ourselves with too many birds as the pheasants will flock to Netherfield from adjacent properties seeking sanctuary from the shooting going on all around them.”

Louisa and Caroline stared at Mr. Darcy. Was it even possible for birds to understand the concept of a sanctuary?

“Darcy, what a cutup you are!” Charles said, laughing. “I am glad you are willing to find humor in the situation because you have come from London to shoot, and despite the fine weather, we have not had the guns out.”

“You have had other things on your mind, and speaking of the weather, since it is such a beautiful day, may I accompany you to Longbourn?”

“Of course. I was just about to ask you to join me.”

“Then I shall go change my clothes and meet you at the stables.”

Caroline waited for the servant to close the door behind Mr. Darcy before lashing into her brother. “If you persist in continuing with this ill-advised courtship, Louisa and I shall return to London.”

“Caroline, you have already said that you were going back to town after the ball,” Charles answered, refusing to back down.

“Then it is settled, and I shall write to our sister, Diana.”

“I thought you already had.”

On the ride to Longbourn, Charles thanked Darcy for lending him his support. “I saw Caroline and Louisa looking to you for assistance, but since you did not express any objections to the match, they may yet change their minds, especially Caroline, who looks at you as if you were the Delphic oracle. They truly mean well. It is just that they have become obsessed with status and ignore everything else.”

“You have no need to thank me,” Darcy answered, ignoring the comment about Caroline. He tried to say as little as possible about the lady because he would be hard-pressed to find anything positive to say about someone so petty and mean. “It was impertinent of me to attempt to impose my views on you. Like your sisters, I, too, was eager for you to make a good match, but since I have observed how greatly Miss Bennet and you complement each other, I can comfortably say that you are, in fact, marrying well.”

Darcy realized his withdrawal of any objections to the match was a complete about-face from his earlier position that such a marriage would greatly harm his friend’s chances to advance in society. But then Darcy thought back to the most recent season. Although he never missed a ball, his friend had avoided the more intimate card parties and dinners because most of the conversations were laced with spiteful comments from those ladies who were not yet married and replete with sexual innuendo from those who were, and Bingley had shared with Darcy that he had found London’s closed society to be repressive, almost suffocating.

As Bingley had said, he was not a Darcy, the grandson of an earl, and as such, he was not shackled with preserving a line that went back to those who fought with the Conqueror. His obligation to all of those Darcys who had preceded him required that he produce a male heir or Pemberley would pass to his cousin, David Ashton, and it would no longer be Georgiana’s home. So Bingley would marry Miss Jane Bennet, and they would remain in the country at Netherfield and have a house filled with laughing children while Darcy would return to London and Miss Montford. If he could not marry for love, then why not Letitia?

“Do you have a particular date in mind when you will make Miss Bennet an offer?” Darcy asked.

“Oh, it will be very soon. Very soon indeed,” Bingley answered, grinning from ear to ear.

“Bingley, are you saying that you are on your way to Longbourn for that very purpose? If so, I shall turn back immediately and not interfere with such important business.”

“Yes, I am going to Longbourn to propose, but I wanted you there because you are my closest friend and because it is a house full of women. I need more than Mr. Bennet’s presence to balance the equation. And speaking of engagements, how do things go between Miss Montford and you?”

“Slow but steady.”

“I only met her the one time, but she seems to be quite pleasant. She even meets Caroline’s definition of an accomplished lady.”

“She is very pleasant, truly accomplished, and according to my sister, paints tables like no other.”

“Will there be an announcement soon?” Bingley asked, but found his friend lost in thought, and his question went unanswered for many minutes.

“If only she was less serious. If she had more… If she was able to…” Darcy finally gave up searching for words to cushion Miss Montford’s defect: She wasn’t very funny. “It is the humerus that is supposedly responsible for our sense of humor, and like Adam and his missing rib, Miss Montford lacks a funny bone.

“You would think with all the ladies out in society,” Darcy continued, “I could find one woman of marriageable age who is attractive, accomplished, and witty. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, it is. And I absolutely refuse to consider the eighteen-year-old girls who have recently debuted.”

Most of those young ladies were friends of his sister, and Darcy shook his head at the memory of a procession of debutantes, all dressed in white, who were being paraded before London’s eligible bachelors for the purpose of marrying them off as quickly as possible.

“Georgiana, who protested when I enrolled her in Mrs. Bryan’s Academy because of its arduous curriculum, thanked me for doing that very thing after listening to the conversations of her peers. Unlike my sister, these ladies were coached by their governesses on the few topics that they might safely engage in while talking to a prospective suitor: the weather, the number of couples in attendance, the splendor of their surroundings, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Darcy, is it necessary that you look for a wife exclusively from among the aristocracy?”