Chapter 78

Some nights later, Darcy lets Elizabeth convince him to provide an hour's entertainment by reading to his family, now including Fielding, and their one remaining guest, Manners.

His cousin is still staying over, but he's not really a guest, staying out all day and coming home late at night.

Since Manners will stay with them for the duration of their own residence in London, and most likely at Pemberley thereafter, and Fielding will be there, too, since Georgie is, Darcy decides to start the pirate tale afresh.

And both men are highly diverted by the tale of woe, ending in the anticlimactic shipwreck that forces the main characters into piracy. When Darcy has finished the first part with a flourish, and their new companions have complimented him on his elocutive skills, their party separates into smaller groups.

Georgie and Fielding tackle a new page of Bach, Elizabeth listening in and working, and Manners sits at the table, teaching Simon German. It's rather weird to have Simon around as if he's company, but when Manners asked permission to teach him some gentleman's skills Darcy couldn't very well refuse. Remembering what Fitzwilliam said about the accident of birth, Darcy realises Simon can pass for a young English gentleman very well, and after years of faithful service to Darcy he deserves a chance to better himself and see something of the world.

All is quiet for an hour or so, Darcy never consciously hears practising, not on the piano, and he finds he can ignore the harpsichord as easily, though most people would say it sounds rather jangly, and playing the same bars of music again and again might drive them mad.

After an hour of Bach, Georgie looks so tired Darcy expects her to turn in, but she's obviously loathe to leave her beloved behind and seek her cold bed. Fielding apparently knows his fiancée pretty well already and closes the lid of the harpsichord resolutely. Then he gently places Georgie in the easy chair close to the piano, and sits at the keyboard himself. He is going to play for her, that is so romantic!

The tones he brings forth are a perfect mixture between poetry and music, speaking volumes of his happiness and his attachment to Georgie, who is of course totally overcome by this moving testimony of his love for her. Darcy cannot remember having heard this composition before, it sounds like an original Fielding, did he write that in the few days since their understanding?

It doesn't last very long, suggesting it is indeed a new work, and when the last notes die away, the young couple exchanges one last embrace, then retires for the night. Georgie is so tired, she will be not be yearning for her Eric long, she'll be fast asleep in moments.

Simon retreats straight after his lesson, without displaying any sign of affection towards Manners or regret at parting. Elizabeth has obviously enjoyed the music very much, and Darcy sits next to her while Manners arranges his notes.

Suddenly the front door slams shut so loudly they can hear it in the drawing-room. Knowing it's Fitzwilliam coming back, Darcy suspects he's rather intoxicated, for his cousin would not usually behave with so little sophistication. His fellow officers must be a rough lot, for two days now he has been down for breakfast, but clearly hung over. That is not like cousin Fitzwilliam at all, he is always so calm and responsible. Fortunately he is not troublesome when inebriated, or his reputation as an officer might be in danger. Since Darcy is rather worried, he has decided to wait up for him tonight and see whether Fitzwilliam cannot be drawn out to talk about what is troubling him.

His cousin now enters the drawing-room, as Darcy hoped, and though he is obviously surprised to find Darcy, and Elizabeth, still up, he does not make his way towards either of them. Instead, he sits himself beside Manners, who greets him kindly, but also with some concern.

Suddenly Darcy realises Manners has probably talked to Fitzwilliam the last two nights, there seems a kind of bond between them. Drunk as he is, Fitzwilliam does not guard his tongue.

'Thank you so much for lending me an ear, Manners. You're such an admirable fellow, you know I've been thinking...'

His cousin is really far gone, he is slurring his words and leaning on Manners, who seems not at all surprised or put out by Fitzwilliam's spirits induced familiarity. Despite his drunken rambling, Darcy catches shreds of their conversation, actually, it's more like his cousin's monologue.

'...you've actually missed out on a lovely woman as much as I have.

My cousin is very special, but I suppose it couldn't be helped that she fell for Mr Fielding, I guess they were meant for each other. But that doesn't help you one bit, like knowing I couldn't afford to marry Miss Eliza didn't help me when she married Darcy.

You're left out, like I was.

Though you don't seem to be in much pain, Mr Manners, or you hide it well. Was Darcy right when he mentioned you didn't seem to be passionately in love with my cousin?'

Is Manners hiding a tiny bit of alarm at this possibly dangerous question? But Fitzwilliam continues heedlessly.

'You see, if he was right, I may know a way for you to make a profitable marriage.'

What is he on about? He's not thinking of their cousin, is he? But he is.

'My other cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, the late Sir Lewis de Bourgh's daughter, is as yet unmarried, nor is she likely to ever marry. You see she never goes out, she was never presented at court, nor will she be, for she is sickly and fancies herself at death's door, has done so for as long as I can remember.

And any possible suitor to approach her despite these disadvantages, will have to face my aunt Catherine, who strikes fear in all but the most stout-hearted.'

Like Elizabeth, Darcy thinks proudly. She wasn't afraid of aunt Catherine, not in the least.

'Now suppose you'd like to be married well, but not be bothered much by your lady wife, cousin Anne would be a great choice. She'd probably prefer to live on your estate with her lady-in-waiting, and let you go about your business in town.

I suppose she would be glad to be rid of her mother and get a tiny bit of a life for herself, aunt Catherine tends to be rather possessive of all those near her at any given time.'

Manners shows nothing more than a polite interest in Fitzwilliam's rantings, of which Darcy is glad, for had he perceived any sign of distinct interest in their friend he'd be slightly disappointed in him. Anne is not good company, and she must be miserable living with aunt Catherine, but Fitzwilliam shouldn't sell her to a man he barely knows.

Right at that moment, Manners looks straight at Darcy to give him a meaningful look. He's merely allowing Darcy's cousin to rant, he doesn't seem put out or disgusted at all by someone so obviously drunk, he probably saw plenty of that in his clique's college days, and maybe even a few years after. Fortunately his friends seem to have grown up a little since then, they behaved perfectly decent at Bingley's wedding. Well, except Grenfell.

'There is one large disadvantage to the match, though,' Fitzwilliam continues to slur, 'it's by no means certain she'll ever be able to give you an heir, since she's always indisposed.'

By now, Elizabeth has caught on to what Fitzwilliam is proposing to their house-guest, and though she does not move, she does look shocked. She is obviously not used to hearing drunken rantings.

Darcy has seen his cousin in this state before, though very rarely, not often enough to be truly worried for his health or his mind. It's just that it's so unseemly and demeaning to be so little in control of oneself.

But it gets worse.

'You know, Mr Manners, if you are looking to fall hopelessly in love like Darcy did, with a woman worth spending time with, cousin Anne is not exactly what you might want.'

Again, Manners shows some discomfort, is the Colonel on to him?

'But if you want to be respectably married, and still be free to enjoy what the big city has to offer a man of means, the bars, the ladies, like Darcy's father did, my cousin would be a perfect little wife.'

Wait a second, Fitzwilliam knows about that? Before Darcy can control himself with Manners present, he has fired a question at his cousin.

'Fitzwilliam, do you know about my father's indiscretions?'

Without the slightest hesitation, Fitzwilliam replies, 'Sure, my father often wondered how a man like your late and lamented father could have such a righteous son. Father told me your mother complained to him sometimes. Though she generally was very happy to be married to the estimable Mr Darcy, to her he was a very good man who had just one little failing that he hid from the world rather well.

So I thought, maybe our cousin would like a man like that, she's delicate, too, and Mr Manners seems the epitome of respectability. He's certainly not going to wear our cousin out!'

At Darcy's shock at Fitzwilliam's coarse insinuation, he merely mumbles, 'You don't believe me? Ask my father, he'll tell you all about it.'

Oh, Darcy believes him, and Darcy will ask his uncle, ever since he has found out his father didn't take his marital vows terribly seriously, and practically led Wickham into debauchery, though that character obviously didn't need much leading to get there, Darcy has been determined to get to the bottom of it. Except he didn't know how. Now he knows where to start.

By now, Fitzwilliam is no longer talking, he has fallen totally silent instead, and he looks positively distraught. It's enough to give the strongest man a heartache. Elizabeth, seeing Darcy's pity at beholding his favourite cousin in such a state, immediately takes action.

'You talk to Mr Manners, I'll handle your cousin. Is he drunk?'

Darcy nods, then adds, 'He does that sometimes, when he's with the officers, he indulges too much. It doesn't make him aggressive, or obnoxious, as it does so many. But he's usually not that talkative, nor as emotional as this, I cannot imagine he's that much affected by Manners' plight, or Anne's.'

His beloved seems to know what is the matter, and she walks towards the two men slowly, then with a nod at Manners invites cousin Fitzwilliam over to the piano, where she guides him into the easy chair next to it, and starts to play some mellow songs for him.

So that's what is troubling Fitzwilliam, he should have known.

Since there is nothing he can do to help his cousin, Darcy merely shakes his head and joins Manners.

'Your cousin seems rather unhappy, Darcy, I'm very sorry to see a good man turn to the bottle.'

And Manners truly means what he says, that's very obvious from the tone of his voice and the look on his face.

'He always indulges when he is in London and visits the officers' club, but I haven't seen him this bad. He's never weepy like this, I know what is bothering him, but a broken heart just cannot be resolved unless time does it for him.'

Manners nods in understanding.

'I can introduce him to some nice ladies, you know. He's an admirable man, in his usual state.

What's this about your cousin? Is he trying to match us for her sake, or mine?'

Darcy doesn't know what to say.

'He's drunk, he doesn't know what he is saying, he's blabbering.'

'I don't think so, Darcy, I think his heart is really in this, does he like his cousin a lot? Is she unhappy living with her overbearing mother? I know for a fact that not being able to lead one's own life can be very painful, even if that life is privileged otherwise.'

Of course Darcy cannot believe Manners is talking about himself here, no-one can ever have told this man what to do, not even as a child, there is no way Darcy can imagine Manners bowing to anyone.

And indeed their new friend smiles heartily.

'I can read you like a book, Darcy, no, it wasn't I who was dominated by my mother, but one of my friends, still is. It's Grenfell, actually, his mother still rules him, decides everything for him, and he lets her. He cannot refuse her.

And then, sometimes, he breaks out completely and dangerously.'

Darcy decides to ignore Manners' implication that somehow, his dominant mother is responsible for Grenfell's contemptible behaviour. That's ludicrous, that man is a menace because he has no self-control whatsoever. But they were talking about Darcy's cousin.

'I do think my cousin Anne must be relatively unhappy. Frankly, I hardly ever spend any thoughts on her. She doesn't do anything with her life, never reads, has nothing interesting to say, and still my aunt expected me to marry her. It is very possible I dislike Anne for that.'

'Maybe your cousin was keen on marrying you, Darcy, hoping you'd obey her mother as she always did herself. Maybe she is as love-sick as your cousin, and he noticed and wants her to be at least out of reach of her mother and have a measure of freedom.'

That doesn't even sound too unlikely, though Darcy has never seen a sign of Anne loving him. And yet, what other gentlemen did she ever get the chance to meet? Did anyone ever offer her an opportunity to fall in love, or to at least have her own establishment? Decide what to do with her life? Maybe cousin Fitzwilliam was right, maybe even Anne should be offered a choice, even if it means entering the meat-market without the slightest preparation.

'A penny for your thoughts, Darcy,' Manners observes with humour.

'Either you are more than half asleep, or you are shocked beyond belief by my suggestion that your poor cousin might actually have a personality to speak of, or ...'

And he drops a silence that clearly announces he's not done with his enumeration.

'...or you agree at least partially with my reasoning and accept your cousin might want to explore the world beyond Rosings.'

Manners knows the family?

Or Simon has told him about Anne, a keen part of his brain tells him. Darcy's valet must have heard plenty of gossip during his repeated stays in the servants' quarters there. Of course Darcy never asked Simon what he knew, a gentleman doesn't gossip, that would be unthinkable.

But these days, Darcy has grown a lot more practical. If Anne is very unhappy, and Fitzwilliam thinks having an establishment might help, there should be something the two of them can do for their mutual cousin. Maybe invite her over to London. Though aunt Catherine will never allow her to stay with her former favourite, who has disgraced himself in her eyes by marrying beneath him.

'Do you know my cousin Anne, or my aunt Catherine?' he asks his companion.

Is it his imagination, or does Manners indeed look a little conscious as he replies, 'I have not had the pleasure of meeting them in person, no, but I know of them, as I knew of you and your sister before we met at Netherfield. Those who do not join society but have a place in it through their descent or their reputation are now and again discussed to keep them from being forgotten altogether.

Of course that gives no guarantee at all about the accuracy of the information being exchanged.'

Manners smiles, a successful attempt to downplay the gossiping that has always irritated Darcy, especially since it is usually based on untruths.

'But I owe most of my information to Simon, whom I asked about your cousin Anne when your cousin the Colonel lamented her in a very similar conversation we were engaged in yesterday night after he came home. He seems to have forgotten about that, it's the spirits speaking, my friends often experience these episodes of forgetfulness when they have indulged too heavily. Which is why I have never been able to abuse spirits to that extent myself, though there have been times when I found myself tempted to join them, to forget the hardships of living a secret double life all my adult years.

Doing such a thing would certainly have exposed my shameful secret, though, and gotten me cast out of society. So I refrained from taking to the bottle, gaining a reputation for steadiness and principle instead, and thus a boundless influence over my college mates, who depended on me to keep them out of trouble.

'Simon confirmed that your cousin Anne was very unhappy, you know he has often found himself the only sober one among his peers, for the same reason I just stated and with the same result of being regarded as stable and trustworthy. Likewise, he ended up being confided in by numerous others, among whom Miss de Bourgh's lady-in-waiting. She entrusted Simon the knowledge that her beloved charge was indeed very unhappy living without love, under the unwavering attention of her mother, draining her will to such an extent that she never even thought of trying to escape by using her fortune or her connections.

Your cousin merely waited for your proposal to get her out of her deadlock. She knew you didn't love her, and never would, but I suppose she overestimated her mother's influence on you.

Just as our friend Grenfell waited for his mother to pass away or hoped for a gentle lady with intentions of marriage to lead him out of his situation, only with opposite effect, Miss de Bourgh having sunk into passiveness altogether, and my friend at times turning to aggression and abuse.'

Darcy still has a hard time thinking of Grenfell without a flash of anger, and he does not check his reaction at Manners making excuses for the piece of trash. But he does not comment, and merely continues the conversation on their real subject.

'Simon never told me any of that, of course I would have considered it gossiping if he had. And he has always been so good at keeping quiet, even when he was bullied by his own colleagues.'

That still smarts, Simon holding back on Janine and Theo making his life difficult. Still, it is good for Simon to finally have someone to talk to, and since Darcy now knows Fitzwilliam is right about their cousin, they can think of some scheme to help her change her life for the better, though setting her up with Manners is of course not the best way to do that. Still, they will be going out among the fashionable crowd a lot in the coming months, and if Fitzwilliam means to invite Anne to London, she is welcome to accompany them.

'Simon had no idea you wouldn't throw him out if his tormentors betrayed him. There was no way he could have told you about it. But you are right, he holds a wealth of information on various families you have been visiting over the years safely under his hat and he cannot be bought. He thinks we should help Miss Anne, should you be interested in his opinion.'

Yes, Darcy is interested in Simon's opinion, and tomorrow, when Fitzwilliam is back to sobriety, Darcy will offer to assist in any attempt to get their cousin to London, though not to match her with Manners.

'I think the Colonel is ready to go to bed now, Fitzwilliam.'

Once again, Darcy is acutely aware of Elizabeth's true age, she seems so much older and wiser than her twenty years, but she may have never seen a man drunk before, and since she really likes Fitzwilliam it is not impossible she may be worried about him. She sure sounds like she is, her voice is different than usual.

Manners has noticed as well, and offers, 'Mrs Darcy, will you let me take him upstairs to his room? I'm almost ashamed to say my friends still overindulge regularly, I know exactly how to handle such a situation. In fact, I took him to bed yesterday night and the night before. He is not in any danger, I assure you. He'll merely have a splitting headache tomorrow, and of course he'll feel terribly ashamed of himself, to have a lady see him in this state. But a bit of just shame may be the only thing he needs to break with his behaviour.'

'Yes, please, Mr Manners, if you would. It breaks my heart to see him like this, I feel guilty for causing someone such pain, again.'

See, Darcy was right, she comforts Fitzwilliam but feels bad about it herself, she is so young and so tender-hearted, his beloved, feeling guilty over something she really cannot help.

As Manners takes Fitzwilliam's arm over his shoulder and starts towards the staircase, Darcy takes his beloved in his arms, and she clings to him as she has rarely done before. Elizabeth is never needy or dependent, Fitzwilliam's plight must have struck her hard.

Secretly, Darcy enjoys the feeling of being able to comfort his beloved with his presence, it makes him feel strong and wanted, but when he finds her crying quietly, big tears rolling over her beautiful face, he is actually a bit shocked. Elizabeth doesn't cry easily, it's not that bad, is it?

He kisses her gently, and strokes her lovely dark hair, and soon her tears dry up and she tells him what the problem is.

'He's still in such pain, my love, I wonder whether playing for him didn't make it worse. I wonder whether staying here with us doesn't make it worse. It's like witnessing the pain you must have felt, but I can't do anything!'

Now she smiles wanly, observing, 'And now it sounds as if I only married you to do something about your pain. But you hid that well, I never knew until you told me.'

'When I was around you, I never felt it. Somehow your presence always gave me hope. Except when I handed you the explanatory letter, in Rosing's Park.'

Some of his love's wit is returning, for she manages to say, 'Well, your cousin certainly shows his pain, do you really think your cousin Anne feels that way about you? You never encouraged her, never did anything to feed a possible affection, did you? I certainly didn't observe any sign of affection in either of you when at Rosings, and I must confess I was looking for it, to amuse myself by judging Miss Bingley's chances of winning you.'

'You watched me with cousin Anne? I never noticed, though I certainly watched you most of the time. You ladies are so much more subtle. But, what did you conclude?'

'Miss Bingley was not particularly subtle. I never noticed any sign of affection in you or your cousin Anne, not love, but no filial love either. You were always polite to her, but that seemed to be common courtesy. She never gave any attention to anything or anyone, she was mostly being given attention, by Mrs Jenkinson, by your aunt, by my cousin and Charlotte. I remember thinking Miss Bingley having the poor luck not to be your relation, or you'd as likely marry her. Little did I know, Fitzwilliam...'

'That all this time I was dreaming of you instead?'

Darcy inadvertently squeezes her to himself more tightly, as if to prevent her from leaving him, memories instantly flashing through his mind of how carefully he had hidden his love from its object, and the dramatic conclusion of that visit to his aunt. But they take a mere few seconds to fade, Elizabeth loves him now, she is his forever.

An arm wriggles free of his clutch and strokes his face and hair, a few kisses follow, and Darcy resumes their conversation.

'I can imagine Anne regretting the loss of her escape from her mother, but I agree with you that she never loved me. Not as cousin Fitzwilliam loves you. But, my love, it is not your fault he does, just as my unhappiness wasn't your fault. You never did encourage me, it was my own arrogance that fancied you in love with me. And you never encouraged Fitzwilliam either, you behaved with perfect propriety. Though I was very jealous of the easy way in which you two connected, one would suppose it would have made me aware of your dislike of me, but it didn't. I just waited patiently for you to acknowledge my presence, convinced your teasing was a sign of love.'

And now the strong woman is back altogether, and Darcy cannot decide which part of her he loves best, it is good to have her cling to him, but it is also very pleasant to have her calm and self-assured. But of course she is much happier when she is like this, and no lover can ever wish his dearest unhappy.

'Well, in that case I shall stop feeling guilty, Fitzwilliam, and help you find a way to improve your cousins' lives, both of them. Though you know, Miss Bingley loved you a lot longer than the Colonel can have fancied me, you were intimate, we only met for dinner-parties, during a three week visit. And yet I feel more for your cousin.'

'Do you suppose she will really marry Grenfell?' Darcy can't help asking.

'I hope not, she'd undoubtedly regret it, I don't like her, but I don't want to see her victim of a demeaning marriage either.'

Well, maybe, if Grenfell is as easily led as Manners seems to imply, his staff has more to fear of him than Miss Bingley. Maybe she'll be able to rule him as well as his mother, and he'll still be powerless and aggressive. That possibility does not bear contemplating.

'I'm glad it's none of my business, Elizabeth, let us try to do some good for my two relatives in the two months we're still here, then take a very long break from society at Pemberley.'

'You're right, of course, and since your aunt will not allow your cousin Anne to stay here, we will not have to put up with her and her Mrs Jenkinson all the time.

Do you think it would be best if I avoid the Colonel for some time? Help him forget?'

'No my love, I don't. I think he will have to come to terms with his feeling of loss, and avoiding him will only postpone his facing his disappointment. We'll talk to him tomorrow, about Anne, maybe helping her will help him as well. Shall we turn in now? I think Manners will not return to take his leave, I suppose he was waiting up for my cousin and wanted to talk to us about him tonight, or he'd have gone to bed sooner.'