A Wife for Mr Darcy

“Will, you do not love Miss Montford,” Georgiana said, while moving to the sofa and putting her hand on his.

“No. I do not. But marriages between members of the upper class have very little to do with love. They are alliances made for financial considerations or dynastic or political reasons. Love may follow, but it is not the overriding reason for a man and woman to marry. You have been out in society long enough to know that.”

Georgiana was ready for this argument, as she had spent the previous night in her bedchamber thinking of little else.

“You have told me that the investments you made through Mr. Bingley’s financial advisor have provided you with handsome returns, so money is not the issue here. Nor is it politics, as you are a Whig and Sir John is a Tory. That leaves dynastic considerations. I understand you are the last male Darcy. If you do not produce an heir, I must leave Pemberley as David Ashton will inherit. Because of that, you have decided you must avoid doing anything that may affect my prospects in the event such a thing should happen. What we are discussing here is a matter of precedence—where my place at the table would be—below the salt as it were.”

Darcy nodded, saying nothing, as he was afraid his voice would crack. He had a little sister no longer. She was an adult with full powers of reasoning and persuasion, which had lain hidden because of the playfulness of her manners.

“If I were not a consideration, would you marry Elizabeth Bennet?” Georgiana asked.

“No, I cannot,” he said, shaking his head. “You must understand that there was no mistaking my particular attention to Miss Montford during the season. Our names have been linked together in the newspapers. To withdraw at this point would be dishonorable as she would be acutely embarrassed.” After taking a drink, he added, “It is too late, Georgiana. It cannot be undone.”

Georgiana stood up. “I am very tired, and we have an early start.” After refilling Will’s glass, she concluded by saying, “You do understand she will know. Oh, I am sure it will never be discussed openly, but Miss Montford will know you do not love her,” and she went quietly out the door.

When Georgiana awoke, it was nearly 10:00, and she quickly called for Mrs. Brotherton. Her brother would not be happy that she was so late in getting ready.

“Miss Georgiana, Mr. Darcy departed hours ago, but he left you this note.”

Dear Georgie,

After thinking about our plans, I decided that it made no sense for you to go back to London, only to return to Netherfield in a few days. I will have Macy gather whatever she thinks is necessary and will send it to you by way of the Gardiners, and I will ask the Gardiners to use my carriage. Although I am sure they own a fine conveyance, I will rest easier if I know you are in our carriage. I will also send Mercer with you.

I know that last year you were alone at Pemberley after Mr. Ferguson’s wife died, and I remember your words. “Yes, I will be alone, that is, if you do not count Mr. Jackson, Mrs. Bradshaw, Mrs. Reynolds, the grooms, the maids, the footmen, etc.” Besides, I am quite confident that you are capable of executing your responsibilities as mistress of Pemberley.

Please instruct Belling that he is to see that Mr. Gardiner is properly outfitted and that he should send one of the grooms who is familiar with all of the best fishing spots. I suggest Avery or Cubbins. I doubt the Gardiners ride, and the only comment Elizabeth made about riding in my presence was that she manages not to fall off the horse. Therefore, I think it will be sufficient for you to have Belling take them into the District by wagon, but Mrs. Bradshaw will need to prepare a simple repast for them to take with them.

You should meet with Jackson, Mrs. Bradshaw, and Mrs. Reynolds as soon after your arrival as possible as they will need sufficient notice to provide for our guests. I will post a letter to Jackson as soon as I arrive in London, and he will inform the staff.

Regarding last night, I have one more thing to add. With rank comes privilege, but it also comes with responsibilities as well as a code of conduct.

Love, Will

P.S. Bingley is to bring the Crenshaws to Netherfield, but he has promised he will not do so until you are safely on the road to Pemberley.

Georgiana laughed at her brother’s comments. He was confident in her abilities to host a party for a grand total of three people, but felt the need to provide instructions anyway. As to Will’s business in London, since she could do nothing about the situation with Miss Montford, she would not think about it. Instead, she would enjoy the company of the woman he really loved.

Chapter 17

Darcy left Netherfield as the first rays of the sun came over the horizon, filling in the spaces in the greenery with bursts of light. Next to the note he had addressed to his sister, he had left another for Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst as he had not taken proper leave of them the night before. Although he did not like Caroline and was easily annoyed by Mrs. Hurst, they knew how to keep house for their brother, and there was something to be said in praise of management skills because, with the Crenshaws’ arrival, that was about to change.

Darcy did not understand why the ten-year-old twins, Gaius and Lucius, were not in boarding school. “There isn’t a housemaster in the whole of England who would tolerate such behavior for one minute, no less years,” he had told Bingley, who had nodded his head in agreement. Ever the pleasant fellow, Bingley had explained, “My hands are tied. I can offer Diana my advice, but I cannot force her to do anything.”

“Why not?” Darcy thought. “I am being forced by convention to do something I do not want to do,” and then he put his head in the corner of the carriage and went to sleep

When Darcy arrived at the London townhouse, he found his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, waiting for him. As close as he was to Bingley, it was his cousin whom he thought of as his brother. They were the same age, and as children, had spent long summers together at Pemberley or at the Fitzwilliam estate in Kent or, better yet, at the seaside in Weymouth where the Darcys maintained a villa.

“Richard, you are a sight for sore eyes,” he said, patting his cousin on his back. “What brings you to London?”

“You seriously do not know?” he asked, laughing. “You sent me this extraordinary note,” and he held it out so that his cousin could see that he had brought it with him, “in which you wanted to know post haste if there was a ‘hullabaloo’ when our grandparents had married. Allow me to read it:

Richard, My thanks for your continued service in keeping the Corsican corporal from our shores. It would be an inconvenience to be invaded by the French.

Having lived with our grandparents for many years, do you remember if they ever mentioned a hullabaloo when they married? Old Norman stock v. upstart Anglo-Irish? Any of that? Your immediate response will be appreciated.

Yours, Will

“Not exactly teeming with details, is it? I must know the purpose of this letter.”

“You could have written to me, Richard. Considering your military obligations, I did not expect your response to be hand delivered.”

“I was looking for a break in the monotony, and I was owed considerable leave. I am so tired of sitting in a camp in Kent sticking my tongue out at the Frenchies on the opposite shore. I thought it would be exciting to be an artillery officer shooting off very big guns, but we keep our powder dry and wait. If there wasn’t such a scarcity of heiresses, I would seriously consider selling my commission. But enough about me. Why do you need to know this information?”