A Bit of Advice
By DJ Clawson
Summary: Three days before his wedding, Bingley goes to the only man who can give him the advice he needs ... the poor, unfortunate Mr. Darcy.
Chapter 13 – The Visitor
As December approached, the Pemberley staff was in the appropriate frantic anticipation. Only their master seemed particularly calm, probably because he had the natural ability to seem particularly calm in any situation whatsoever, except perhaps a military invasion or someone tying his cravat wrong. There was no amount of guessing (or betting) on the part of the servants as to how he would act towards the end of his wife's first confinement, as the only time he showed his true emotions was around his wife or his sister, and the former was burdened with producing the heir to Pemberley.
At the moment that was not her chief concern (though it hardly for a moment truly left her mind). She had to assemble a guest list, and as Mistress of Pemberley, it had to be done with a ridiculous amount of care. She was quite surprised them when Darcy, avoiding eye contact by staring out the window as he said it, casually ask that she invite the Wickham family – husband, wife, and relatively newborn daughter.
When queried on this, he replied, "It's the proper thing to do, and I know he won't come." To this, he left no explanation and quickly exited the room.
In his infinite wisdom, Mr. Darcy was not wrong. The Wickhams returned post with the message that they were must embedded at Newcastle and would decline the invitation. Elizabeth was quite sure she saw her husband give one of his quiet smirks at the news.
The list needed careful consideration this year, as it involved two wives very near entering confinement, and so was restricted to their very extensive families. Lady Catherine immediately sent her refusal, and it was regrettable only that they could see no way to invite Lady Anne away from her home on Christmas for any pretense. Though Darcy did not mourn the loss of Mr. Collins as a guest, he was aware that Elizabeth did feel the loss of any acquaintance with Mrs. Collins, now that all relations with Rosings were for the most part hopelessly severed. "It will not due to lose your relationship with your aunt," Elizabeth said. "I mean, you may do as you choose, but I will not suffer the lose of Charlotte as a friend."
"And I will not suffer the loss of Anne as a friend."
She looked at him incredulously. "Anne de Bourgh? Your former bethrothed? Whom you refused? We speak of the same person, correct?"
"Correct. That does not mean she is nothing to me. In fact, our refusal of my aunt's intentions was mutual, and she has been a great friend to Georgiana. I would be honored if you would take some time to write to her. We could send it with my sister's letter as we did for the wedding."
She looked at him as if she could not believe it, but his face was perfectly amiable and he was never known to lie. "Very well, I shall happily write to her, and perhaps she can find excuse to be in Derbyshire in the spring."
"The weather here is known to be quite relieving to the body," he said. And the matter was settled.
Their first guest arrived a week early, to their great surprise but also to their great delight.
Mr. Bennet had weathered half a year without the sight of his favorite daughter. At first it was merely to give the newlyweds their proper privacy, though the rumors were that the estate was so vast that they would have no problem avoiding anything if they so chose, while he had at Longbourn only his study as a sanctuary. Then the weather chilled, and his wife protested for his health. At first he found his odd, as with their financial situation quite secure, his death would no longer be the disastrous event that had so long been her worry. At the fourth or fifth protest at his suggestion of visiting Derbyshire, he looked more carefully at his wife of nearly twenty-five years and after much consideration, decided that there was a slim chance that she was actually concerned for his person – as a person. He did not mention this to her, for as much as she talked about herself, she did not care much to be talked of.
He did, however, smile.
This bizarre state held him in Longbourn until he at last gave in and gave his wife and daughters permission to go Brighton, with the explicit understanding that Mrs. Bennet would be the most diligent chaperone. "I have learned that lesson, Mr. Bennet," she said, and oddly, her voice was not a shrill. He even convinced Mary to go, taking great pains to tell her of the spectacular scenery that might be observed in the area, so that he might be at his leave to appear at Pemberley before the official arrival date. He had a great desire to see the place in some privacy first, but this involved getting his remaining daughters out of the house so that he may secretly vacate it, and the task took him nearly a month to arrange.
It was late in the first week of December that he finally got in a carriage and took the long trip to Derbyshire, farther north than he had traveled in a great number of years. He had no great love of the activity and was very sick of trees and fields – that was, until he reached Derbyshire itself. "Quite a lovely place," he admitted to himself when they stopped for lunch.
That was until he saw Pemberley.
"My goodness," he said as it came into view, with its reflecting pool and great columns. Even far away from the entrance, he took off his hat as if he was entering church. He had yet to see the new Bingley estate in Kirkland, but he had a notion that nothing would compare to this. "Well, well, Lizzy, you have done quite well for yourself."
If Mr. Bennet was a man to be cowed, the great halls of Pemberley would have rendered him speechless. He was not, however, that sort of man, though there was a significant hesitation to his step as he entered and had his walking stick and hat taken by the servants. He was approached by a servant wearing better clothes than his own. "May I help you, sir?"
"I am here to see Mrs. Darcy, though I prefer to be unannounced, if she is in the mood to be interrupted from whatever business she has as Mistress of Pemberley." As it was mid-afternoon as he'd planned it, and she was well with child, he assumed he was not interrupting anything he really was inclined not to interrupt. "That if, if she would see her father."
The servant blanched and then said he would make haste to find her, and would he mind so much sitting in the drawing room until she was located? Of course he would, because the "drawing room" was probably, by his rough estimation, larger than half of Longbourn and its shelves filled with so many books that he could hardly imagine the actually library's collection. "I definitely should have intruded earlier," he muttered, glancing at the titles.
He did not have to wait very long. The doors opened, and before she could be announced, 'Mrs. Darcy' scampered into the room like a little girl – even though she was certainly no longer dressed like one – and immediately embraced her father. "Oh, Papa!"
"Lizzy," he said, though having some difficulty, partially because of his emotions at seeing her for the first time since the wedding day, and partially because there was much more of her to hold. She was, to everyone's estimate, in her fifth month, and while not et overburdened, was quite undeniably pregnant when she removed her shawl. He kissed her and then withdrew from the embrace, but not from holding her hands. "You look splendid." In fact, she looked positively astounding, considering her particular burden. All of his fears – however irrational – about her interest in her marriage to the aloof Mr. Darcy were quickly dissolved entirely in his mind. She was more radiant than on her wedding day, the look of a woman most happy in her present situation. "I am very sorry to intrude ..."
"You do not look very sorry," she chided. So, being married to a man of Darcy's countenance, she had not lost her sense of humor either, or her ability to smile. "I see you came alone."
"Your mother and sisters are in Brighton, admiring all the officers from a very respectable distance. At least a foot, I told them, though I have no idea if they will abide by it. I would have said at least said thirty feet and bought your mother a pair of looking glasses, but she would not have it and I was not inclined to fight her. They will arrive closer to the holiday, as promised, though I challenge even Mrs. Bennet and Kitty to fill these immense hallways with their squalling."
"You are being ungenerous," she said, her voice thoroughly mocking. "Oh, but I did not think to have someone call for my husband because I rushed to you."
"I imagine there is someone around here who has thought of it, what with the massive retinue of Mr. Darcy. If his Majesty has any desire to invade the Continent and has need of stout men, he has only to call on Pemberley." He tugged her hand. "But seriously Lizzy, unless you are better at trickery than I know you to be, I assume Darcy has made you quiet a happy woman."
"Indeed, he has," was all she could say before the subject of discussion entered the room. "I'm so glad someone found you."
"Mr. Bennet," Darcy said, bowing to his father-in-law.
"Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet returned the gesture, but could not help but recall that the last time he had been in such an intimate setting with Mr. Darcy, the poor man was drunkenly vomiting into a chamber pot. Now his son-in-law was all smiles – and not just a quiet, subtle smile he was sneak across the table at Elizabeth when he was sure no one else was watching during their engagement. Marriage had obviously been very good to him. "I apologize for my intrusion into your privacy."
"Not at all. In fact, we were wondering when you might be venturing north for several months now. I hope you find Pemberley to your liking."
"I find nothing that anyone could ever dislike."
"I am relieved to hear it." Where was the proud Darcy who cared nothing for the approval of those decidedly below his station? Perhaps Elizabeth had merely married a different man with the same name. "If you will excuse me, I have a most pressing matter with my steward, and I assume that you wish more time with your daughter. I will see you at dinner, Mr. Bennet." He turned to his wife. "Remember about the gardens, if you would."
"If my father wishes to see the gardens of Pemberley on this mild afternoon, I would be a most discourteous daughter not to guide him."
"Lizzy, I would rather have you a discourteous daughter than a discourteous mother and you know it," he said in a whisper, perhaps imagining Mr. Bennet was hard of hearing.
"Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet said, having no intention of being left out of the fun. "I must confess to you right now that the only time a Bennet every intentionally sabotaged a Bennet's health was in not providing Jane with a carriage when it was raining and she was invited to some great estate in Hertfordshire, and that the outcome was most advantageous to us all. Still, I will not try the Master of Pemberley's patience."
"That is my job, Papa," Elizabeth chimed in, but she did lean in and kiss her husband on the cheek before he bowed and took his leave.
They were alone again, and Mr. Bennet did not hesitate to venture, "You were absolutely correct, Lizzy. You are both so ridiculously stubborn that somehow you are a perfect match. I assume this garden business was him being overprotective of your condition."
"To his credit, it is winter, but we have had many mild days." She tightened her grip on his hand. "But I think you have had enough scenery for quite a while and would prefer to remain indoors. And there is so much to discuss. Come, let us repair to the parlor."
"I'm not quite sure how far away this parlor is and if I am well enough to make it to it," he said. "Please tell me it is under two miles."
"Papa!"
"You know I am only poking fun at how well a sworn-spinster who considered herself too stubborn to ever attract a man has done so well for herself. Quite the reverse of conventional wisdom. But then again, when have you ever been conventional?"
"I will take that as a compliment."
They did make it to the parlor, despite Mr. Bennet's jokes, where they were practically assaulted by servants ready with every flavor of tea for the esteemed father of Mrs. Darcy. Mr. Bennet found himself in a state of perpetual self-amusement at the whole proceeding.
"How is the family? I have not written enough, I know."
"I must confess, I am somewhat surprised by the changes at Longbourn," he said. "Though I do miss you and Jane every day, your mother's continence has ... almost returned to normal."
She looked legitimately confused. "Whatever do you mean?"
"You do not mean to imply that I married a fluttering imbecile with a chronic nerve condition. No, I confess I had almost forgotten it myself that she underwent a particular transformation when Jane came out, and suddenly she had the daunting prospect of five marriageable daughters who were in desperate need of prospects. And seeing as how I was only a very reluctant aid in the matter, so attached to you all as I was, it is amazing that she accomplished so much in so little time." He did not give her time to comment before continuing, "Kitty is doing quite well, though still quite silly, but in that endearing way that some officer will no doubt find quite amusing. And having learned that lesson, we will make sure to check his gambling debts before agreeing to see her have a moment alone with him."
"And Mary?"
"Yes, Mary, who is usually quite complacent with her books, has asked of me that she be sent to study on the Continent. My finances being in a less tattered condition, I feel almost compelled to obliged her in the fall. Surely then she will fall for some scholar who is as good at giving un-requested sermons as she is, and they will spend a happy life amusing themselves at the dinner table by talking about proper manners and the severity of life." He sipped his tea. "I find myself oddly at ease with my existence now, minus the absence of my favorite daughter. Fortunately I believe she is with child and that will give me a tremendous excuse to dally by her side for her confinement, if her stubborn husband would permit it."
She smiled slyly at him, "But Bingley is not stubborn at all!"
"Now you intend to mock me, though I say I do enjoy it more than when any other relation does it. So I will let it pass. Though I have no idea how you will settle the matter of the confinement. Mr. Bingley could have hardly moved all the way up here just to separate his wife from her sister for three months."
"My husband and Mr. Bingley are in an argument about it."
"An argument, you say?"
Lizzy smiled again. "Not an argument, proper. More of a 'my house is better than yours for this sort of thing' gentlemanly game of theirs. We have yet to inform them that they have no say in the matter, and Jane and I will decide at new year's, and that will be that."
"So you have completely and utterly conquered your husbands. I see your mother has trained you well."
"Are you joking? Every correspondence I have had with her since the wedding has told me of my wifely duties and that I must be entirely obliging to my husband's every whim and desire. Does she expect me to be only a combination of a maidservant and breeder?"
He set his tea cup down with some ceremony. "I have given some though to the matter, and considering that Darcy has five times my income, you are required to produce no less than twenty-five children. All daughters, of course."
"Now you are deliberately trying to tease me!"
"I have always said," he laughed, "that of all my daughters, you had the quickest wit and perception, and you have never proven me wrong."
Dinner was a peaceful but splendid affair, and though in front of the servants Darcy was more reserved, he was still the welcoming gentlemen that he had been in the parlor earlier. To Elizabeth he was expressive enough, and that was Mr. Bennet's chief concern, which was much abated now. It was only when he briefly disappeared to attend to something that Mr. Bennet remarked, "I must say that my son is a rather puzzling sort of man in the way he presents himself. It is not at all consistent."
"It is not a matter of pride at all," she said. "I have come to the conclusion that he is extremely shy."
"A man is never shy, Lizzy. Certainly not one of his standing."
She giggled, but tried to stifle it. "I was trying to be polite. I think he is merely ... I do not know the term. Socially phobic?" She lowered her voice further. "He does not find company easy to be bare if he does not have a keen interest in them. I do think this is a failing on his part as much as it is something instinctive."
"Well, that he has a keen interest in you is I suppose all that matters," he said with a smile.
To this, she could only blush in reply.
...Next Chapter: Christmas at Pemberley