Mary Simonsen - The Perfect Bride for Mr. Darcy

Lord Fitzwilliam stood up and taking Louisa by the hand suggested that they attempt to navigate the maze.

“Milord, I get lost every time.”

“So do I. But it is a beautiful morning, and we have all day. Although I doubt Darcy would send a search party to find me, I am sure he would send one out for you.”

When Elizabeth had said the name “Wickham,” it had the same effect on Darcy as a punch to the gut. He had no doubt his intended target was not Lydia but him. Whether he had figured out that Bingley was in love with Jane Bennet or that he had feelings for Elizabeth, Wickham had decided to strike at Darcy through a Bennet sister. The urgency of finding Lydia was such that he had left the woman he loved to be comforted by others, but knowing the bastard had no intention of marrying a young girl with no fortune, he believed he had no choice. Once Wickham had his way with Lydia, he would leave her and never look back.

After seeing the Gardiners’ carriage depart, he sent a rider to Pemberley with a note instructing Mercer to come to the inn immediately and to be prepared to set out for London. By the time his manservant arrived, he had written a letter to George Bingley explaining what had happened and relating everything that was known concerning the couple’s whereabouts. Because George’s investments were so extensive, he had men in London and throughout the country looking after the interests of the Bingley family. If Wickham and Lydia were in London, George Bingley would find them.

In order not to arouse suspicion among his guests, Darcy had to delay his own departure until the following day. He would use his time to acquaint Richard, Georgiana, and Anne with the drama unfolding in London, and he would need their help to entertain their guests and to keep speculation as to the reasons for his departure to a minimum. The fewer people who knew of these events the better, and he most particularly did not want Caroline Bingley to know. He would deny her the pleasure of finding out that the Bennets had once again fallen short, and, in this case, tragically so. Darcy regretted the necessity of this action as Anne had told him the previous evening that the steady drip of venom from Caroline’s tongue had worn her down, and she was beginning to feel the fatigue that plagued her when she was with her mother. After speaking with Richard and asking him to keep his brother under control, Darcy returned to his guests, only to find Caroline venting her intense dislike of Elizabeth Bennet.

“I must confess I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin, her complexion has no brilliancy, and as for her fine eyes, I never could perceive anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all,” and turning to Mr. Darcy, she said, “I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty, and I particularly recollect you saying, ‘She a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’”

“I did make that comment regarding Mrs. Bennet,” Darcy responded, “and it was a demonstration of how ill-mannered I can be when I am out of sorts. As for Miss Elizabeth, for these many months, I have considered her to be one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”

This brusque response to one of his guests put Georgiana on alert. She had earlier noticed Jackson speaking to Anne and her departure shortly thereafter, and five minutes after Anne’s return, Richard had left the room. Had something gone wrong when Will went to Lambton to say good-bye to Elizabeth? That didn’t seem likely because it was as clear as day that Elizabeth and her brother were in love. But something must have happened at the inn because it was obvious he wanted to be gone—but why and to where?

After supper, they all adjourned to the drawing room, but before going in, Charles warned his sister, “Lord Fitzwilliam is known to have a razor tongue. Say nothing that will make him turn it on you.”

But because little had gone Caroline’s way since her arrival in Derbyshire, her patience had worn thin. When Anne, now with Mrs. Jenkinson sitting beside her, asked to be excused from playing cards because she was overly tired, Caroline asked her, “Exactly what is your complaint, Miss de Bourgh?”

Mrs. Jenkinson gave Caroline a look that could have melted stone, and Louisa let out a quiet gasp and then whispered, “Caroline, you should not have asked such a question.”

“It is quite all right, Mrs. Hurst. Why should Miss Bingley not inquire? When I was about fourteen, I became very ill, and although I recovered, my lungs were impaired. I no longer have the capacity to breathe deeply, and I find that I fatigue easily.”

Darcy, who had been pacing the room, came over to talk to Anne. “What are you discussing?”

“My illness as a child. Miss Bingley was inquiring after my health.”

“Surely, there are subjects other than Anne’s illness to talk about. We very nearly lost her, and I do not like to speak of it,” and he walked away. Fortunately, for Caroline, Darcy had not heard her comment, but, unfortunately, Lord Fitzwilliam had.

“Miss Bingley, when we are in London, I should like to introduce you to Lord David Upton. He sits on the backbench in the House of Lords and dissects everyone’s speeches, chopping them into little bits, and throwing them back at the speaker with vicious retorts. I think you two would get along famously, and he is a bachelor in need of a rich wife.”

* * *

As soon as the last of their guests retired, Georgiana immediately went to her brother. “Will, what is the matter? I know something is wrong.”

“I shall be leaving for London in the morning,” and he explained the events prompting his departure. “I am relying on you to see to our guests. You will have your hands full with Miss Bingley, who seems to have annoyed Antony. Keep them apart whenever possible. Mercer will see you safely back to London, and I shall arrange for Madame Delaine to come to the townhouse to prepare you for your debut. Nothing will affect that, Georgiana. No matter what. I shall be there.”

“I do not care about that anymore. Will, what is going to happen?”

“I don’t know. It’s an ugly business, and no matter the outcome, I am sorry to say Lydia Bennet will pay for her lack of judgment for the rest of her life.” He started to stand up, but then sat down. “There is another matter. I wish for you to write to Mr. Stone, our solicitor. Have him contact Christie’s and put a hold on anything that Antony is trying to sell. Tell him I shall settle with him as soon as possible.”

“But what about Miss Elizabeth and you?” Georgiana asked with tears in her eyes.

“One thing at a time, Georgiana. All my thoughts must now be directed to the recovery of Lydia Bennet. I can think of nothing else.”

A dead calm settled over Longbourn. Everything that there was to say about Lydia’s elopement had been said, and since any resolution was out of the hands of its inhabitants, silence now prevailed. It was very different from the bedlam that had been loosed once Mr. Bennet had shared with his family the contents of Colonel Forster’s letter. Mrs. Bennet let out a shrill cry that got the dogs barking, Kitty cried, Mary preached, the Gardiner children fretted, and the servants ran around in circles, not knowing what to do. Without a word of comment to anyone, Mr. Bennet had returned to his study, and Jane had heard the sound of a key being turned in its lock. Without instructions from the head of the family, Jane assumed control and brought some semblance of order out of the chaos.

Now that there was nothing to do but wait for news from London, Jane made good on a promise she had made to herself. After reading to the children her favorite fairy tale about a princess who went into a deep sleep and could only be awakened by her true love, she went to talk to Mary. As usual, her sister was in her room reading, but she put her book aside when she saw Jane. The two had barely had time to speak about anything that didn’t concern Lydia, Mama, or the Gardiner children.

“Mary, I know you think that I am not sensible of Mr. Nesbitt’s many attributes, but I truly am. He is very kind and attentive, and works hard at his profession, which is why I have continued to encourage him.”

“But you do not love him, Jane.”

“No, I do not. But I do hold him in high regard.”

“But, Jane, do you think it is right to contemplate marriage with a man whom you do not love nor have any prospect of loving?”

“Yes, of course. I suspect there are more marriages made due to financial considerations than to love. When one does not have a fortune, one cannot marry where one wishes. I did so want to marry for love, but it has eluded me. Now I must face the reality of marrying for security and to ease the burden on our family because once Papa dies, our future will largely be in the hands of Mr. Collins. We can only hope he will permit us to continue to live at Longbourn, but even if he does allow it, we must have additional protection.”

There had always been an expectation in the family that because Jane was so beautiful she would be the one who would make the most advantageous marriage, and in doing so, she would be able to introduce her sisters to men who would make good husbands for them. Once Mr. Bingley had stepped into the picture, everyone’s hopes had risen, and when he had returned to London, they had just as quickly fallen. Mr. Nesbitt was not perfect, but if the union was viewed exclusively from a financial point of view, it would be a good match.