Mary Simonsen - A Wife for Mr Darcy

The only other time Darcy remembered being this fatigued was when he had received word that his father had died. Richard and he had been on the Grand Tour, and they were making their way south through France with a destination of Nice when the news had reached him. With his sister’s wellbeing in mind, Darcy had made record time in reaching the port of Calais, but then there was still the Channel crossing and the long journey to Derbyshire. When he had finally arrived, he was unshaven, bedraggled, and in need of a bath, much as he was now. Thank goodness he was back in his own home, and he would shortly be asleep in his own bed.

“Will, let me have Mercer draw you a bath,” Georgiana said to her brother, who was slumped in a leather chair in the study, saying he was too dirty to sit anywhere else.

“No. Please don’t. He is more tired than I am.”

“Then I shall ask Rogers.”

“No, first I want to have something to eat, then a bath, and then I am to bed, hopefully, until late tomorrow morning. I am weary to the bone. I do not even know how long it has been since I left Pemberley.”

“This is the sixth day since you departed, but tell me what happened in Brighton. Hopefully, you were in time.”

“We were in time. When I left Miss Lydia, she was sobbing in her father’s arms. Mr. Bennet was very grateful for my intervention, but all he wanted to do was to get his daughter home. I assume your return to London was uneventful?”

“Perfectly so,” Georgiana answered. “The three of us left the day after you did. Richard has returned to his regiment, and as for Antony, well, he is staying here—not permanently, of course, but please allow me to explain.”

“Please do.” Darcy was so tired he did not have the energy to protest.

“Before leaving London, Antony hired an agent to find someone to take up the lease on the townhouse, and in the short time we were gone, the agent found someone—a Mr. Whitby. Antony says he’s as rich as Croesus and made his money in hemp, whatever that means.”

“Whitby supplies the Royal Navy with much of its rope. Through Bingley’s financial advisor, you and I are venturers in his concern, and he has done very well by us.”

“Antony said he asked a ridiculous amount for the lease, and Mr. Whitby did not bat an eye when the agent mentioned the amount of the rent. They are to go to Briarwood, and our dear cousin is hoping the gentleman will buy the manor house. I received Mr. Whitby here for dinner, and I watched as Antony shamelessly told that unsuspecting man that he could not part with the Fitzwilliam estate unless he knew it was in good hands. With tears in his eyes, he explained what a great loss it would be for him and his family, when you and I know he would walk away from it if a buyer could be found who would provide for the servants and settle his accounts.”

Darcy did not care if Antony sold Briarwood. The house was an architectural hybrid combining Jacobean and Georgian elements and doing justice to neither. Antony had once compared it to one of the Prince of Wales’s rejected mistresses: no longer young, beautiful, or wanted.

“But Antony is looking for other accommodations? Yes?”

“Yes. He said he could not live with you as you remind him too much of his mother.”

“Good. Anything else I should know?”

“Have you heard about the king?”

“What about the king?” Darcy asked, but he already knew the answer. If Georgiana had heard of the madness of King George, then so had everyone else.

Georgiana had first heard the whispers and rumors during a stop at an inn north of town, which meant that the news had already spread into the suburbs and surrounding countryside. By the time the travelers had reached London, pamphlets depicting the king as nearly blind and completely mad were being sold on the streets.

Many were predicting that as soon as the prince was named regent there would be a major shift in the political landscape. Although it was true that the prince was more liberal than his father, once the Prince of Wales became regent, Darcy believed that he would see things differently. Power was intoxicating, and history had proved that monarchs never seemed to have enough of it.

“There have already been a few changes,” Georgiana said, and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I might as well tell you now, Will. Sir John was here yesterday. Fortunately for me, so was Antony.”

Darcy sat up in his chair. “Is he still angry with me?”

“To the contrary, he said he was looking forward to having vigorous debates with you, and that he was not so set in his ways that he could not learn a thing or two from a younger man.”

Darcy burst into laughter. The thought of Sir John, a dyed-in-the-wool Tory, listening to anything he had to say was a bright spot in an otherwise gray landscape.

“Sir John is willing to be educated by me! I would sooner believe the prince had taken a vow of chastity,” and he continued to laugh to himself. “Just think of the irony, Georgie. Lydia Bennet goes to Brighton, delaying my return to London just long enough so that, in Sir John’s eyes, I go from being an arrogant whippersnapper who is courting revolution to someone he wants to exchange ideas with.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I am going to go to bed, and tomorrow I will visit with Miss Montford or her father and advise them of my intention to withdraw from whatever they thought I had been doing.”

“I do not think you should go to see either Montford tomorrow. You will still be very tired, and Antony says Sir John can be very abrasive and is known to shout when he does not get his way.”

“That is excellent advice, and I shall take it. But I shall delay no longer than that as every day I do keeps me from Elizabeth. At this point, I do not even care what Sir John or anyone else thinks or says about me. Besides, I deserve it. The only thing I have done right since I met Elizabeth was to go to Longbourn to apologize for being an arrogant… Well, an unpleasant fellow. Since that time, it has been a comedy of errors, and it must come to an end.”

Georgiana could hardly bear to think of someone speaking ill of her brother. But then an idea came to her that would avoid putting Will’s good name at risk. While her brother rested, she would go to see Miss Montford, and during her visit, what could be more natural than to have the names of one’s friends come up in conversation? Georgiana smiled at the thought of how Miss Caroline Bingley might actually end up facilitating the union of her brother and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

While preparing for her visit with Miss Montford, Georgiana thought about the differences between the two families. While the Montfords refused to associate with people like the Bingleys, the Darcys befriended them. She understood from Will that this was a recent change, which had begun when their father had invited members from the Lunar Society to Pemberley. The elder Mr. Darcy had so admired these men of science that their modest beginnings were of no importance to him, but such changes took time, as was demonstrated by her brother’s attentions to Miss Montford. He had only singled her out because he wanted Georgiana to make an advantageous match from among England’s elite families, and that required that he make a good match himself. But his sacrifice would have been too great. Why should he forego his own happiness for the sake of hers?

When the hackney came to a stop in front of the Montford house, Rogers took Miss Darcy’s card and presented it to the butler. It was a long while before Rogers returned with permission for Georgiana to come in, and when she went into the parlor, she was greeted by Mrs. Redford, Letitia’s companion.

“Miss Darcy, how good of you to call. Unfortunately, Miss Montford is unwell today, and she could not receive you personally. However, she suggested that I visit with you.”

What Mrs. Redford could not say was that when Letitia had learned that Miss Darcy was waiting in her carriage, she had refused to receive her because she was afraid that action might prompt her brother to call as well.

Georgiana suspected there was nothing wrong with Letitia that her departure would not cure. This was very disappointing because her plan could not go forward without Letitia. After pleasantries were exchanged, Mrs. Redford asked the purpose of Georgiana’s call.

“I am having a few friends to tea this week, and I thought Miss Montford would like to meet them.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Miss Darcy. Was it your intention to tell Miss Montford who you would be inviting?”

Was that a leading question, Georgiana wondered? It certainly sounded like one.

“Perhaps you were thinking of inviting Mr. Bingley’s sisters,” Mrs. Redford said, trying to help Georgiana along.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I was. Miss Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Louisa Hurst would be two of my guests.”

This was very good news, Mrs. Redford thought. Letitia had been greatly upset by Mr. Darcy’s alarming revelation that he considered Mr. Bingley to be a gentleman and his sisters genteel.

“May I share any of the names of your other guests with Miss Montford?” Mrs. Redford asked, continuing to prod and encourage.

Georgiana did not know what to say. If she had been able to speak to Miss Montford, inviting Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst probably would have been sufficient for her purposes. However, Mrs. Redford was asking for additional names, but everyone else of her acquaintance was of the genteel class.

“Miss Darcy, I understand you have just returned from Pemberley where you were entertaining some new friends.”

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.” But the Gardiners did not advance her cause, which she was sure was also Mrs. Redford’s, because Mr. Gardiner was a gentleman, and her puzzled expression prompted Mrs. Redford’s response.

“I believe Mr. Gardiner is a coffee broker and often visits the docks.”

Georgiana nearly jumped out of her seat. “Yes, that is true, and although a gentleman, Mr. Gardiner earns his living,” and Georgiana experienced the same happiness a student feels who has given the correct answer and has pleased her tutor. Buoyed by her success at guessing what Mrs. Redford needed to know, she added, “I could also invite Mrs. Crenshaw, Mr. Bingley’s older sister, who has very odd ideas with regard to the rearing of children. You might have heard about her sons, as they were reprimanded for throwing rocks at the squirrels in Hyde Park, but she may have gone to Scotland.”

Mrs. Redford smiled at this charming young lady whose purpose was to get her brother out of his unhappy courtship with Miss Montford.

“I think we have enough with Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Gardiner.”

Georgiana gave a sigh of relief as it was obvious Mrs. Redford was trying to extricate Letitia from a relationship that could in no way make her mistress happy. “I hope you understand that my brother would never deliberately hurt Miss Montford.”

“I know that, dear. I was always in the next room, and although it had a good start, it became clearer with each visit that their differences were too great. I think it is important for you to know that Letitia’s mother died when she was only eight, and her father’s world view is all she has ever known.”

Georgiana squeezed Mrs. Redford’s hand. “Miss Montford is most fortunate in having you as her companion. I have only recently found the perfect companion, and I rely on her heavily as her advice is always sound and in my best interest.”

When Georgiana reached the front door, she asked Mrs. Redford if she thought the guest list would be sufficient to solve their problem.

“I do not know, Miss Darcy. All I can tell you is that Sir John will hear of it, and then the rest is up to him.”

Today was a day to rejoice and be glad for Charlotte Lucas was to wed Mr. Collins. While each member of the Bennet family made ready for the nuptials, they were all talking about which of the groom’s many annoying habits, his poor table manners, incessant talking about Rosings Park and all things de Bourgh, nightly readings of Fordyce’s Sermons, or his constant humming and whistling, that they would now be spared.

Jane and Lizzy were discussing that very topic when they heard a loud cry from Mr. Collins, and Jane, who had finished dressing, hurried down to see if the parson had been injured. Instead, she found her cousin staring at a letter that had just been delivered by John Lucas.