A/N: Getting close to the end, and I have my traditional foot-dragging going on as usual. This to be the penultimate chapter.
I learned an interesting thing the other day in a story from the excellent sysa22 (who I like very much). It turns out that all us Regency authors have it wrong on courtship terminology. JA never used any form of the word 'betrothal' ever, mainly because it wasn't a word in common use at the time. It was an old word, but not popular. It came to prominence later in the Victorian era, picking up steam apparently in the 1820-1840s. JA used the same words we use, 'Engagement', 'Engaged', etc. 'Fiance' was in somewhat common use at the time, although JA never used it. 'Intended' also seemed in common use (as in 'my intended'), but I can't see if she used that or not.
You can easily see this sort of stuff with a word search. Google for "Project Gutenberg's The Complete Works of Jane Austen" (with the quotes) and you'll get a link to one text file that has all our Jane's books. It's super-useful. You can also get the individual books in a half‑dozen formats for free on the same site (and a bunch of others as well).
Even better, google for "Google NGram" and look at the NGram viewer. That's what I use whenever I'm in doubt about the provenance of a word.
And now, on with the show!
Wade
Nobody could have predicted the odd combinations of personalities, quirks and actions that occurred during the five weeks of Elizabeth and Darcy's engagement. She would later think it was roughly analogous to throwing a side of beef and some vegetables in a pot, walking away and finding a beef stew a few hours later (although to be fair, for the analogy to work, you have to presuppose a lack of servants, since that was in fact very much how all her family's food was prepared).
The most poetic description for the first surprise came from Mary (which was a surprise in and of itself). She described the first closed‑door meeting between Mrs. Bennet and Lady Catherine de Bourgh as 'a gang of sailors watching a catfight in the middle of a wolverine den.' Elizabeth was prodigiously proud of both the cleverness of the analogy, and Mary's bravery for sitting through it, albeit from a room away. The yelling and screeching coming from the parlor was prodigious, loud, and constant… for exactly one hour.
After that, both ladies exited as if nothing had happened, and then they got on with the business of becoming fast friends. Elizabeth would have bet that neither lady was willing to cede the position of ultimate authority on a single issue – Lady Catherine because of her rank, experience at managing estates and long-standing stubbornness – and Mrs. Bennet because it was after all her house and her daughter being married.
Elizabeth resisted being put in the position of a horseshoe being prepared by a blacksmith by simply ceding all authority for everything save the wedding dress and her trousseau to both ladies, and said she would accept anything they both agreed on.
That plan worked for the first week, or so, until she found herself in the first real discussion about the ceremony with her intended.
"William, do you have a strong opinion about the flowers at the chapel?"
"Do weddings usually have flowers?"
She laughed and swatted him. "Lady Catherine and Mama seem to have a disagreement they cannot resolve."
"How do you plan to resolve it?"
"You will see," she said with a smile, "I have a plan," and then they continued their ramble.
While Elizabeth had agreed to be paraded around the neighborhood like a prize heifer, she put strict limits on it. She gave the ladies a schedule she would be available for, and then did whatever they asked during those few hours, with the understanding that if she was returned to Longbourn five minutes late, she would be absolved of the next day's visits.
The flower issue came up the next morning after her discussion.
"Lizzy, you will have to make the decision. Lady Catherine and I cannot come to agreement on the arrangement of flowers."
"I see – and should I presume you wish to practice multiple advocacy, each presenting your idea like in a court, and allowing me to choose."
"It seems only fair," Lady Catherine said, as if fairness had ever been a primary concern, "you are after all the bride."
Elizabeth smiled, "Yes, I am the bride, so here is my decision. We shall have no flowers!"
Both ladies looked like startled deer, while Darcy had to convert a guffaw into a very poorly disguised cough.
Elizabeth continued, "To be honest, I never liked flowers anyway. I think it is a silly tradition."
"NO FLOWERS!" both ladies bellowed, apparently unaware that they sounded much closer to twins than two people of vastly different rank and fortune.
Elizabeth blithely turned to her intended. "Fitzwilliam, will your friends disparage you if there are no flowers?"
He chuckled. "To be honest, most of my friends are men, and the only thing that would change their attention to the ceremony would be if you replaced the flowers with stacks of wine bottles, cigars or hunting dogs."
"There you go – no flowers, and I do believe we can abandon the idea of dogs," then she gave quite a long pause, and added, "unless you ladies can come to some agreement."
Both agreed with alacrity, and that was the very last decision she had to make. There was no more contention until it came time to discuss dress and trousseau.
"Mama… Lady Catherine… as much as I appreciate all you are doing, I would beg to remind you that I am the bride, and this is my special day. While I would not dream of faulting either of you on taste or elegance, I have my own ideas of style and find them very much in accordance with my future husband. Fitzwilliam will take me to town next Monday with Jane and Mary. We will enlist Aunt Gardiner's help to pick all the necessary items. If that does not suit your fancy, I will wear my gown from the Netherfield ball. It was good enough for William to fall in love with me, so I think it will be good enough to secure him," she said with a smile towards him.
"But you do not know the best warehouses… you will not make a dress sufficient…" Mrs. Bennet started to way, at the same time Lady Catherine started with, "You are joining the first circles, Elizabeth… your dress and accessories must…"
"ENOUGH!" Darcy yelled, thoroughly startling both ladies into silence (and his intended for that matter).
"Ladies… allow me to add my thanks for all you are doing on our behalf, but I can assure both of you that I know the Gardiners quite well. I would trust Mrs. Gardiner with my life and trusting her with Elizabeth's trousseau is not a challenge. I would beg you both to keep in mind that much of what attracted me to Elizabeth is much more the work of the Gardiners than the Bennets… no offense."
And much to everyone's surprise, including his own, nobody did take offense. In fact, it was less than five minutes until all were in agreement on this most obvious solution of having entirely too much to do in the extremely stingy one-month engagement the couple allowed. Since both ladies agreed that both Darcy and Elizabeth were exceedingly odd people, they were satisfied that they came together using whatever unorthodox methods were required. If the Gardiners were responsible for it, who was to argue with success.
Much to Elizabeth's delight, the trip to town went just as expected. The shopping occupied a mere three days, including fittings, with two trips to the opera and theatre. Quite why the colonel was required to escort Jane was not her business, or anybody's for that matter (aside from a couple of giggling conversations with Mrs. Gardiner and her eldest daughter).
The rest of the engagement period went with several surprises. Nobody would have guessed that Georgiana would become quite bosom friends with Lydia, but such was the case. Lydia had been held back from a trip to Brighton, both for the wedding, and because Fitzwilliam and the colonel bludgeoned Mr. Bennet into submission. He had been prepared to allow Lydia a chance to 'learn her own insignificance at little trouble or expense.' That sentiment was enough to make the colonel lose his vaunted temper for the first time in Elizabeth's experience (and she hoped the last). He, along with Darcy, took all the ladies, including Anne and Jane for a tour of the camp followers 'accommodations' that had been set up outside of town, and he personally introduced them to a number of the less fortunate military wives he knew, and asked them describe their 'courtships' and marriages.
That did the trick!
The trip also, much to everyone's surprise, introduced Mary to Colonel Alton. The colonel had lost his left leg below the knee, so he would obviously never see battle again, but he had a good, secure position training troops and a small bit of prize money saved up. He was a bit older than Mary, but not alarmingly. He seemed quite smitten at first glance. The man called on her the next day, received a surprisingly positive response, and the last three weeks of the engagement saw the two of them in open courtship. A week before he weddings, he had asked for a formal courtship, and everyone thought they were both being careful of their feelings (both were reticent in the extreme), as well as respectful of Darcy and Elizabeth's engagement. There was no hurry, but the idea of a fall wedding was not slapped down with any alacrity.
Lydia and Georgiana shared a common affliction of being fooled by a scoundrel, and surprisingly enough, that was enough of a connection to get them over their entirely opposite personalities. They spent enough time together that Darcy decided to leave Georgiana behind in Longbourn for a month or three after the wedding, and the colonel agreed. Perhaps the opposites would even out. His only condition was that Lydia had to partake of lessons with Georgiana, for which Elizabeth thought him a very sly fox indeed.
While Lydia and Georgiana seemed to bond over their shared oppositeness, Anne and Kitty seemed to bond over their shared sameness. Elizabeth spent some time trying to work it out, but in the end, decided it did not matter. If two ghosts standing in front of each other made them more noticeable, who was Elizabeth to quibble.
Kitty spent nearly all her time at Netherfield with Anne when they were not attending shared entertainments. Neither lady had any of the traditional accomplishments to speak of. Both sang like a scalded cat and were physically afraid of screens, paintbrushes, and pianofortes. Kitty could trim bonnets well enough, and she taught Anne the skill. Anne had read enormously more, so she took on Kitty's belated education. Darcy and Elizabeth had no idea how long that friendship would go on, but, fortunately for their peace of mind, they did not really care, and in fact, it was none of their business.
For the most part, the couple found joy in walking, driving out and somewhat belatedly, teaching Elizabeth to ride. She had always preferred her own two feet, but Darcy convinced her she could not even see her own wilderness, let alone the peaks without riding – and there was also the obvious problem (at least in the first year of marriage) that her handsome husband would frequently be in places only accessible on horseback, and most likely, somewhat lonely.
The happy couple required the support of what they generally regarded as the worst two chaperones in Christendom. The colonel maintained that he had the eyes of a hawk and could spot a mouse from two‑hundred yards. Of course, on the day when he arrived with Jane at the top of Oakham Mount at the same time their charges arrived at Netherfield to escort Kitty back to Longbourn; even they had to admit that they were not as diligent in their duties as might usually be hoped.
Over the month, much to no one's surprise, the voluble, flirty, rugged, abrupt, battle-scarred warrior who trusted nobody fell quite in love with the quiet, demure, calm lady who trusted everybody. Elizabeth hoped that it would all average out in their favor – although, her visions of the camp followers she had visited left her shaking in fear.
One evening, a week before the wedding, Darcy asked Elizabeth, Jane, and the colonel to join him in the study at Netherfield. Bingley had by then repaid every debt of civility and rang up credits with the neighborhood; and more importantly, he had let go of Jane and she of him. They might not be the very most indifferent acquaintances in the world, but they could easily pass as such. Netherfield had been placed at the entire party's disposal, much to Kitty and Anne's delight. His lessons on estate management had taken over, and Darcy found him not only diligent, but legible – a marked improvement.
When they all settled, with Elizabeth having no more idea what it was about than anyone else (much to her displeasure), Darcy opened. "Richard… I have what I would hope to be the last Wickham problem, and I am hoping you can assist me."
The colonel growled, but otherwise just assumed Darcy could reply his last screaming fit in his head if necessary.
Darcy threw a small stack of parchments on the table, and said, "Briarwood!" as if that would have any meaning to anybody.
The colonel just waited patiently for his cousin to get on with it.
"I paid the last of Wickham's debts to keep him out of gaol long enough to get killed in the Navy. As part of that, I made him surrender all his assets. It turns out that he was in possession of an estate that he won in a card game."
"So why was he slouching around Meryton in a Militia uniform if he was a landowner, if he owned an estate?" the colonel asked.
"Take a look."
The colonel looked at the first sheet, which was a report from Darcy's man of business. He had seen quite a number such reports as part of his duties to Rosings, so it took but a couple of seconds to get the essentials out of it.
He gave a soft whistle. "That may be the worst estate in England."
Darcy laughed. "Overstating the case, but it is close."
Jane asked somewhat timidly, "Can you explain it for us, William?"
The colonel took up the mantle. "It is about the size of Longbourn. It should have an income of about £2-3,000 but currently it barely pays enough rent for the steward's salary. He seems to be holding it together, but not for long. It is one flood away from reverting to the crown."
Elizabeth asked, "Why?"
"Decades of mismanagement, I would say. Two thirds of the fields seem to be abandoned. Half of the houses are damaged. The manor house is well constructed, but presently the domain of rats… the usual."
Both ladies shuddered at the very idea, and Richard surprised everyone by saying staring at Darcy and shouting forcefully, "NO!"
Darcy said, "You do not even know…"
"Whatever it is, NO!"
Jane asked, "Would it be too much trouble to understand what you are saying 'no' to?"
Darcy said, "Richard thinks I am about to take the most time-honored and venerable technique for solving a problem."
"Which is?"
"Make it someone else's."
Jane laughed a bit, then looked to the colonel, comprehension slowly dawning.
Elizabeth said, "Why not just give it away, sell it, or ignore it."
The colonel grumbled, "Darcy pride and honor… both of which are overdeveloped in my humble opinion."
Both ladies looked to Darcy quizzically, and to the colonel in desperation, but he was not being much help.
With a sigh, Darcy began. "Because it is my obligation. It is part of the Darcy credo, and I would say that anyone who has visited Pemberley might argue that it is not entirely without merit."
Elizabeth said, "Explain."
"The owner of the land has an obligation to the land and to those who take their living from it. It makes no difference how the obligation came about… once you own the land, you own the obligation. The local village, the tenants who stuck it out, the people who make their living from the estate… all are now under my protection. To be honest, I do not want it, and there are also the legal issues."
Elizabeth gasped, "Legal issues?"
The colonel took up the yoke. "Certain things can happen on estates that can end up in the courts. Suppose a field floods, and it blocks a stream that goes to another estate, causing that estate to flood or the owner's cattle to die. The other estate owner can assess damages. It is an expensive proposition, only worthwhile if your opponent has deep pockets to go after."
"So, being owned by Pemberley is a detriment?" Elizabeth asked.
"Absolutely – this thing has been gambled away by the dumbest bunch of gamblers in England the last two years. Nobody with any sense would have taken it, since its value is actually negative."
"Meaning?"
"I would have to pay someone to take it in its present condition. If I gave it away, someone could restore it over a decade or two, and it would be quite lovely in the end; but they would need some investment to do it."
Comprehension dawned, and Elizabeth said, "If it was owned by a single individual with no other income… say, I don't know, a retired colonel or something…"
"Then it would be safe, presuming he lived there and exerted reasonable control over the lands. In this hypothetical colonel's example, he would just fix the stream, or negotiate a solution to the problem with the neighbor."
Jane asked, "You said, 'if he lived there?'"
Darcy shrugged, "That would be best, but he could also just manage with a steward like most of his contemporaries. It is the management that is key, not the physical presence – although it would require a lot of that."
The colonel grumbled, "I will not take charity."
Darcy was just winding up to make another argument but was surprised by the last thing he expected.
"I will!" said Jane with as much force as Elizabeth had ever heard. Jane's assertiveness was apparently not over yet.
Darcy shook his head, and said, "Excuse me?"
She just said, "I am not stupid. Lady Catherine runs Rosings with a little help. I have a very clever sister, a moderately educated father, a very clever uncle in trade, and the latest in a very long line of successful landowners as a brother. I am not afraid of hard work, and to be honest, the life of a lady has left me perilously close to the most beautiful spinster in Meryton. I suspect an estate, even a terrible one, as a dowry would attract somebody."
Elizabeth had to chuckle at her studied avoidance of the colonel in the process.
Darcy rubbed his chin in thought, saying, "You know that when you marry it will become your husband's unless we tie it up in a jointure or an entail, which would make it difficult to manage."
Jane laughed. "Any man stupid enough to take on an estate like that deserves what he gets."
Elizabeth and Darcy burst out laughing, while the colonel only scowled – or at least, tried to scowl.
Darcy said, "For you, I would happily put in £5,000 to get you a start in life. I had planned to supplement all the sister's dowries anyway, so yours would just become working capital. My mother always wanted a half-dozen daughters, and my father planned his finances accordingly. We can afford it. I believe Lady Catherine will put in another five, and Anne would at least loan you another five and more likely give it. If you took this lunkhead beside you, his father would put in another five at least, or maybe ten. That would be enough to get it back up to scratch. It would take a decade, but I would be happy to help you. It is only thirty miles from Pemberley, which Elizabeth would find convenient."
"We will do it!" she said, unfortunately at the same time the colonel had just taken a sip of tea, which he promptly spit out.
She said, "Do not make assumptions, colonel. If you want to be part of that 'we' it requires but a single question. If not, there are others who would. I do not plan to do this alone but make no mistake – once I soundly defeat William in our upcoming contest of wills, I will be mistress of that estate."
Elizabeth had been looking at the report, and said cheekily, "This manor house is terrible, colonel. It seems like it is only twice as good as barracks."
He grumbled, "How long until someone points out the obvious benefit of not getting shot or bayonetted?"
Elizabeth and Jane laughed gaily at how easy the battle was to be won and thought that perhaps the military would profit from the colonel's exit, since he was obviously going soft.
The colonel took a deep breath, thought a moment, glared at his cousin and the man's intended, and said, "You two – go away!"
'Those two' scrambled out of the chairs as if they were infested, resisted the temptation to loiter in the corridor, and had only barely made it to the drawing room when the happy couple caught up to announce their engagement.
With only a week to go, it was entirely impossible for them to share a wedding day, thus saving them an awful lot of fuss and bother… or were they?