Mary Simonsen - The Perfect Bride for Mr. Darcy

“Miss Bennet, may I ask for your hand in…”

“Yes.”

“…marriage.”

And Jane leaned over and firmly kissed her future husband on his lips, and the quiet Mr. Bingley let out a whoop that brought everyone in the house to the parlor.

Mr. Bennet had been in the study listening to Mr. Nesbitt’s reasons for his choosing Mary over Jane. He had obviously given the subject a lot of thought as he had a litany of Mary’s attributes at the ready. Because of his detailed presentation, Mr. Bennet was seeing his middle daughter in a different light. After calling Mary into the study and seeing how her love for this man had transformed her, he readily gave his consent. It was during Nesbitt’s recitation regarding his legal aspirations that they had heard Mr. Bingley’s shout.

When Mrs. Bennet realized that not only was Jane to be married, but Mary was to wed Mr. Nesbitt, she nearly collapsed, and Kitty had to pour her a glass of wine to calm her nerves.

“Oh, Mr. Bingley! Oh, Mr. Nesbitt! What happy news! You are perfectly suited for each other. Well, I don’t mean each other. I mean for Jane and Mary. What I am trying to say is I wish to add my blessing to your unions,” and she started to cry profusely with tears of joy. “Mary is to be married! Who would have ever thought?” And looking at Kitty, she remarked, “Now it is just you and Lizzy who must find husbands, but perhaps Mr. Bingley and Mr. Nesbitt have friends who are in need of a wife,” a comment Kitty did not appreciate, but one that Lizzy had expected. Her mother would not be happy until all five of her daughters were married, and Lizzy’s thoughts turned to Mr. Darcy in London.

Anne was near to exhaustion, but during the carriage ride to London, while Mrs. Jenkinson and Lord Fitzwilliam were sleeping, she continued to plan her next step to bring Elizabeth and Will together. She had come too far to concede defeat because of the actions of an irresponsible sixteen-year-old girl and a thirty-year-old degenerate. If it had not been for the change in circumstances brought about as a result of Lydia and Wickham’s escapade, she might have accepted Antony’s offer to visit with him for a month or so. She knew she could do some good there. With his daughters constantly in his thoughts, it seemed as if he really did want to begin a program of reform. It was one thing to embarrass one’s spouse, especially Antony’s mean-spirited wife, who put her in mind of Caroline Bingley, and quite another to humiliate two impressionable young girls, whom he loved dearly.

Upon arrival in London, Anne had written to her mother to inform her that she would rest for a few days at the townhouse before returning to Kent. It was while she had been picturing a typical evening meal with Mama dominating the conversation that the idea had come to her. During supper at Rosings, Anne would speak of the likely engagement of Mr. Charles Bingley to Miss Jane Bennet. She would work the conversation around to Jane’s sister, Elizabeth, and would mention that Will and she had been together at Pemberley. That would prompt a cascade of questions, which she would answer truthfully. “Yes, Mama, I do believe Will is quite taken with Miss Elizabeth, so much so that I suspect he is in love with her.” As soon as she learned of a possible alliance between Fitzwilliam Darcy and a farmer’s daughter, she anticipated that her mother would order the carriage to be made ready to leave for London the next day, and it had happened exactly as she had predicted, except for one thing: Her mother had set out for Hertfordshire, not London.

And while her mother was busily interfering in Will’s affairs, Anne had ample time to review the papers her solicitor had given to her while she was in town. In two weeks’ time, she would reach her twenty-fifth birthday, and at that time, she would come into an inheritance left to her by her de Bourgh grandparents that had, up to that time, been controlled by her mother acting as trustee on her behalf. The papers contained many surprises, all of them pleasant. Not only was she now an heiress with a generous yearly allowance, but she also owned the lease on the house in town and rental properties in Tunbridge Wells and Weymouth. Although not a surprise, the crème de la crème was that she was now the mistress of Rosings Park.

As she had been instructed by her father in the last days of his life, Anne had met with the family solicitor, Mr. Markling, on her eighteenth birthday. According to the provisions of the will of the first Lord de Bourgh, only a de Bourgh, by blood, could inherit the estate.

“Apparently, when the original Lord de Bourgh purchased a barony from Charles II,” Mr. Markling explained, “he was coolly received by the English elite, and his response was that no one but a de Bourgh would ever inherit Rosings. If you should die without issue, Miss de Bourgh, the estate will pass to your father’s nephew, Martin Hargrove, who will then adopt the de Bourgh name.”

He further explained that the will provided a life interest for her mother. However, once she had reached her twenty-fifth year, Anne would have the final say in all matters affecting the estate. She had no intention of taking on such responsibilities, but her new situation would provide an opportunity for negotiation between mother and daughter.

Looking at the numbers once again, Anne was amazed by the size of her fortune. Apparently, smuggling generated handsome profits, which had enabled generations of de Bourghs to vastly increase their wealth and to build and expand Rosings Park. But she immediately thought of all the things she could do with that much money. Firstly, she would attempt to recover everything Antony had sold from the Fitzwilliam estate to pay his bills. Secondly, improvements of the cottages would be accelerated. Thirdly, the parsonage would be expanded because Anne believed Charlotte would shortly have some good news to share.

A few days after she returned, she would visit Mr. Rampling, the sexton, who had taken care of the church for decades, and his forty-year-old bachelor son. Albert Rampling had been born with misshapen legs. Because it was so difficult for him to get about, he had been unable to find employment. Instead, he had dedicated his life to recording the traditions and customs of those who lived in southeast England, and one of her greatest pleasures was when he shared his latest historical nuggets with her. Now, she would be able to provide an annuity for the Ramplings. That would allow them to move out of their small, damp house into a larger cottage with a library where Albert could record his stories, and she might possibly assist him with organizing his notes. In any event, she would see to it that his writings were published.

As important as those things were, she was even more excited because now she would be able to provide her cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, with an allowance sufficient for him to follow his heart and to marry for love, and she believed the trail would take him right to the home of Miss Pennington, the daughter of the Fitzwilliam solicitor. The money would allow him to sell his commission in the army and to pursue his desire to study the law. There was so much to look forward to, not the least of which was a change in her relationship with her mother. In two years’ time, Mama would be sixty years old, and the infirmities of age were already noticeable. She suffered from arthritis and gout, her hearing and eyesight had diminished, and she could no longer get around without her cane. The new arrangement might possibly bring the two women closer together, as Lady Catherine would look to Anne to provide the necessary care she had once provided to her daughter.

But discussions about their changed circumstances would have to wait until her mother had returned from her crusade to prevent a marriage between Will and Elizabeth. But like the Crusades, she would fail, and sometime in the near future, Lady Catherine de Bourgh would have to acknowledge the marriage of her favorite nephew to a farmer’s daughter from Hertfordshire. And that put a smile on her face.

Georgiana loved all the hustle and bustle of London. She had been sitting on the window seat in her bedroom watching nannies pushing prams and servants walking their masters’ dogs in the park when she saw Lady Catherine’s carriage stop in front of the townhouse. Georgiana, who enjoyed gothic mysteries because they got her heart racing, found that there was nothing in her novels quite as frightening as Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

“Fitzwilliam Darcy! I demand you come here immediately,” Aunt Catherine shouted from the foyer below.

Georgiana was unsure if her brother was even in the house. She had only just returned from a final fitting for her dress for the Warrens’ ball where she would make her debut in one week’s time. Will might possibly be at his solicitor’s office in connection with the papers to be signed by Lydia Bennet and Wickham or in a business meeting with George Bingley. Unfortunately, she must assume he was not in the house, and with great reluctance, she went downstairs to meet her aunt.

“Where is your brother, Georgiana? I shall speak with him this very moment.”

“Aunt Catherine, I don’t know where…”

“Georgiana, it’s all right,” Will said, appearing miraculously from behind her. “You may return to your room. It seems as if our aunt has business with me.” Georgiana hurried up the stairs, but as soon as Will and her aunt had gone into the sitting room, she put her ear to the door.

“I have just come from Hertfordshire and a most unpleasant interview with Miss Elizabeth Bennet with regard to a malicious rumor being circulated by either herself or her allies that you intend to make her an offer of marriage. When I insisted the report of your engagement be universally contradicted, she refused to do so,” she said, shaking her cane at the window and the faraway Elizabeth Bennet, who was out there somewhere defying her. “When I asked for a promise that she would never enter into such an engagement, she said, ‘I will make no promise of the kind.’ She is an unfeeling and selfish girl, unworthy of my attention, and no one in my family will have any further association with her.”