Mary Simonsen - A Wife for Mr Darcy

“But I have not studied French in years.”

“And I have written only one love letter.”

“Very well,” Lizzy said, but this time she really was pouting. “You do not have to write me letters.”

Darcy burst out laughing. “If your French really is that bad, Georgie can tutor you.”

“Non, merci. Je suis content de vivre ma vie sans parler d’avoir à parler français.”

“Oh, dear. I see the problem.”

“That was unkind. Accurate. But unkind,” she said, and she gently pushed her shoulder into his. “In all seriousness, it is not just my poor French. We come from such vastly different backgrounds, and you move in a society that is a world apart from my own.”

Darcy went quiet for several minutes. This reminded him of the time he had come to Longbourn to apologize for his unfortunate remarks made at the assembly. It had taken him a long time to find the right words because he was doing something new: apologizing to someone not of his rank.

“Actually, I have given the matter a lot of thought. Falling in love with you has made me rethink everything. All my concerns regarding my Norman heritage or being the grandson of an earl, once scrutinized, seemed unimportant. You asked if the marriage of a Devereaux to a Fitzwilliam caused a hullabaloo. It did. But they married anyway, and the earth continued to spin on its axis.

“I did not realize that by befriending Bingley, I had stepped into a different world—a much more expansive and inclusive world. Two generations ago, Bingley’s grandfather was a blacksmith in the North of England, and now his grandson has more money than most earls. To live as my father did is to look backward. I want to go forward.

“As to the matter of London society, that too will change, albeit at a much slower pace. But if your concern is rubbing elbows with the ladies of the ton, it will not happen because I do not associate with the Prince of Wales and his followers. Even so, there are enough Caroline Bingleys in society who would enjoy making your life unpleasant. But I do not care about what other people say. Let them throw their best punch. I can take it because I will be with you.”

While waiting in the foyer for the carriage to be brought ’round, Darcy told Elizabeth that he would be leaving for London in the morning.

“You and Jane will be busy making preparations for the wedding and breakfast, and I must go to London as I have business with George Bingley. He has written a second letter asking that I return to town as I am venturer in several of his schemes, and it will also serve another purpose. You will miss me so much that you will move up our wedding date and forego a courtship.”

“You are very sure of yourself, Mr. Darcy,” she said, smiling.

“Yes, I am, because I am sure of your love for me and mine for you.”

Lizzy thought she would melt. “Mr. Darcy, since you have addressed all of my concerns, we shall talk about a wedding date when you return.”

Darcy took Lizzy’s hand and led her to the area under the staircase and kissed her good night. “Elizabeth, I promise that you will not be sorry as I shall make you the happiest woman in England.”

“Yes, I know.”

Longbourn was in a state of upheaval. Corsets, chemises, stockings, and dresses were all thrown about, and Lydia and Kitty were elbowing each other for room in front of the mirror. While Mama and Mrs. Hill were helping Jane to get dressed, Aunt Gardiner and Betsy assisted Lizzy. Even Mary, who professed to have no interest in baubles and beads, was wearing earrings and a cross necklace.

With a house full of ladies running hither and yon, and with orders being shouted or praises being bestowed, the volume had risen to such a level that Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner had removed to Mr. Philips’s house until such time as they were summoned to the church.

Mrs. Bennet was all aflutter, and since she had no intention of relaxing until the vicar had pronounced Jane and Mr. Bingley to be man and wife, she would take brief rests before going back into the fray. She thought about how congratulations would pour in and smiled at the thought of Jane being the talk of the county for months, if not years, because no one could possibly make a more advantageous marriage than her dear Jane. Every time she said, “five thousand a year,” Mrs. Bennet started giggling. With such a son-in-law, she would never again have to worry about the entail.

Lizzy was possibly as nervous as Jane. She had not seen Mr. Darcy in a week, but he had surprised her by writing a love letter to her, and as promised, it had burnt her fingers with its passionate prose, and she kept it in a chest under her bed under lock and key.

When Jane walked down the aisle in her beautiful ivory dress and diaphanous veil, many whispered that the village had never seen a more beautiful bride nor such a handsome groom, and because she had endeared herself to all, everyone, including Mr. Bingley’s sisters, wished her joy.

The day was sunny, but cold, and so the guests quickly got into their carriages and wagons and made their way to Netherfield Park for the breakfast. Every Bingley brother and sister and all of their children were in attendance, and Lizzy found this gathering of Bingleys to be most agreeable, including Caroline Bingley. Lizzy had learned that Miss Bingley, and possibly her twenty-thousand-pound inheritance, had drawn the attention of Lord David Upton, and it appeared that her future might include having everyone address her as “milady.”

Darcy made the rounds as if he were the groom, visiting with Charles’s neighbors and joining in a conversation with George and James Bingley, both of whom were discussing new investment schemes, eventually making his way over to Mrs. Crenshaw. But after she had informed him that she may have misjudged how far along she was, he bowed and made his way to the other side of the room where an amused Lizzy waited.

“Mr. Darcy, you look ill at ease,” Lizzy said. She had noted how short his conversation with Mrs. Crenshaw had been.

“Do not be surprised if, between the toasts for the bride and groom, you hear a baby’s cry.”

“You need not worry. Dr. Paterson is here.”

“You find my discomfort funny; I do not. So let us change the subject. You have said nothing of my letter.”

“Well, let me say something now. Shame on you!” she said, laughing, and soon left his side, but not before rewarding him with her brilliant smile.

As soon as Lizzy departed, a merry Mr. Bennet joined Mr. Darcy. “What a display of finery and array of food we have, Mr. Darcy! But such a joyous occasion merits all this folderol, does it not?” Darcy nodded his head in agreement.

“It gladdens a father’s heart to see a daughter well married to someone she loves, as that is not always the case, and now that Jane is married, it will be Lizzy’s turn. I hope she is as fortunate as her sister because she is equally deserving of a fine man. I do not think I could part with her if that were not the case.”

“Naturally, a father would wish for such things,” Darcy said, and he shifted uneasily.

“Mr. Darcy, I am giving you an opening, and you are not taking it.”

Darcy looked at Mr. Bennet, smiled, and laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not as obvious as Mrs. Crenshaw being with child, but close.”

“I am embarrassed to be found out so easily.”

“Don’t be. It was in this very ballroom where I fell in love with Mrs. Bennet. By the end of that long-ago evening, there wasn’t a soul in the room who doubted that we would marry because I could not hide my feelings for her. In addition to being the most beautiful lady in the county, I was attracted to Mrs. Bennet because she had the ability to make me laugh, which is a necessity if a marriage is to survive the storms that will rise up every now and then. I think you require the same thing.”

“I do, sir. But I suspect Elizabeth’s wit has a bit more bite to it than Mrs. Bennet’s does.”

“No doubt. My daughter has a satirical eye, and I must congratulate you on winning her affection. It is my understanding that the first time you met Elizabeth you insulted her. Something about her being rather plain and not wanting to dance with her?”

“I plead guilty,” Darcy answered, “but Elizabeth has forgiven me.”

Mr. Bennet started to laugh. “A word of advice from an old married man. Although she may have forgiven you, she will never forget, so be prepared to hear about it for the rest of your life.”