A/N: Here are the survey results: Long 84, Short 84, Either/Both 25 - and no, I didn't cheat to get that. As you can see, it wasn't that helpful in resolving the dilemma, but it did show the limits of what my readers are up for. I guess I'll have to try to find the Goldilocks solution.
I have about 3 ways I could solve the conundrum with varying amounts of work. One of them is a lot of effort, and a bit risky – something I haven't done before, so naturally I'll probably do that one. If I go that route, it will be something new that could either be really cool or a muddled mess. I have just one more chapter before I must make a hard and fast decision.
Shall we find out if there are any sharp objects or loaded firearms in the Darcy coach?
[Update - I ended up making 2 very long threads, so not according to plan at all.]
Wade
Both bride and groom felt all the awkwardness of their current situation, but neither had the slightest idea how to resolve it. The obvious solution of simply starting a conversation might have been a good strategy; but between hubris, shyness, awkwardness and stubbornness, neither was quite willing to bend enough to go first; nor did either have the slightest idea how to begin even if their courage did rise to the occasion.
The first half-hour of the journey was spent with both looking out the window, or at the other side of the coach, or their shoes, or their gloves, or just about anything other than the person sitting beside them. Elizabeth did not even bother removing the bonnet she had been married in, somehow feeling that such a thing was too intimate for the present state of their relationship. The fact that it both blocked her view of the man sitting beside her, and vice-versa was not necessarily a bad thing. She supposed she was obliged to adopt a mobcap now, and her Aunt Gardiner had placed a nice one in her trousseau, but she was not about to change in front of a man or without a mirror. Darcy did not even remove his hat or gloves for much the same reason, although neither would have much impact on his visibility of his new life partner unless she decided to ride with the coachman.
Elizabeth tried to think of something innocuous to say, but there seemed to be an embargo on every subject. She did think the coach was much nicer than those she was accustomed to, being smoother, quieter, and much better appointed. She almost smiled at the improvement in her situation, while reflecting that simply being inside the coach when she arrived in Lambton would be an improvement over her previous arrival. She was, however, afraid that saying anything at all positive about the coach, or her potential new home would sound more like gloating than anything else. She thought complimenting the coach she had only recently acquired a portion of would make her sound little better than Caroline Bingley.
A half‑hour into the trip, she finally had some blessed distraction when she heard a familiar sound. She quickly slid across the seat and forward, which also had the coincidental benefit of moving her farther from her –
She almost gasped when the thought suddenly occurred to her. She was moving away from her husband, of the 'till death us do part' variety. It was an idea that made her pause a second in reflection, but it was too enormous a thought to really contemplate, so her mind shied away from the implications. Another sound shook her out of her stupor, so she continued her quest.
Mrs. Darcy looked out the window to hear the familiar bark, coming from what could best be described as a mutt. Her old comrade looked more like some sort of sheepdog than anything else, although, as to looks, that was being generous. He could have been just about any breed of dog, or some sort of odd mix. The bark reminded her so much of when she had last heard him, well after midnight, on her brief taste of freedom, in what seemed to be months ago but was really only a couple of weeks.
The dog chased after them until he reached the corner of whatever area he considered to be his domain, then stopped both running and barking, while looking carefully at them, as if to ensure that they left the area post haste. Elizabeth thought that all she needed was an inebriated man to make the parallel experience complete; but then reflected that with what she knew about nuptial celebrations that was not entirely out of the realm of possibility. A drunken groom was not unheard of, or even unusual, particularly in cases such as hers. She wondered exactly how much drink would be required to make her handsome enough to tempt him, but immediately quelled the thought. Neither her mother's horrific sounding instructions for marital duties, nor her aunt's much more sensible ones, seemed very helpful.
Once she passed out of view of the dog, she slid back in the seat, but taking advantage of the movement, settled herself somewhat farther from her traveling companion than she had been. She considered it a practical move, and not the least bit petulant.
She was somewhat startled when Mr. Darcy looked at her curiously, and asked, "Do you know that farm?"
Elizabeth frowned slightly, but she was still mostly facing the window, so he could not see her expression. She had not been quite prepared for conversation, but apparently this was to be the opening. She sat back in the seat, but farther away from the gentleman than she had started out. "I know the dog," and thought about adding some more clarifying details, or just more polite conversation; but she really had no idea what to say. 'I heard it when I was running away to avoid this exact situation', seemed like it would be counterproductive.
Darcy looked a bit perplexed. "That seems – unusual. We are some miles from Meryton."
Elizabeth just sighed, finally looked at him. "Perhaps – but that is as things are. I take it we are going to Pemberley?"
Darcy thought it curious that she had studied his estate enough to know the best route to get there, but not overly so. Anyone setting themselves up to be mistress of an estate was bound to learn a little bit about it, and it was not exactly secret that one of his houses was North of their present location and the other was South. It was also not a stunning bit of logic to presume that they were not on the London road, so therefore not likely to be going to Darcy House.
With a sigh, he gritted his teeth in preparation. "You are!"
Elizabeth startled a bit, trying to work out what exactly he meant, and finally gave up and asked, "Would you care to explain?"
With a sigh, Darcy began, "I had planned to discuss this when we stopped in Hatfield, but I suppose now is as good a time as any. I must go away for some months on a mission of crucial business. You will go to Pemberley and await my return."
Elizabeth chewed on that for a time, and while keeping in mind her promise to her father to at least try, she swallowed her annoyance, and asked politely, "Am I to know what this 'business' is, or how long it will take?"
"It is a matter of grave family business. My family. It cannot be delayed. I have already waited too long."
Elizabeth felt the words 'my family' like a slap in the face. He could not have been any clearer that he did not really consider her a part of his family, despite his recent vow to join their lives together. In her mind, he was basically saying she was not a part of his family, and her pessimistic mind had no trouble adding the thought that she never would be, despite a complete lack of any evidence to support the thesis. In her distress, she surmised that this was simply a precursor to disposing of her entirely somehow, but that he either lacked courage or had not worked out the specifics yet.
Seething, she said, "If your family business is to override our marriage, I suppose that is your business. Since I am apparently not to know what this business is, can you at least narrow down where you are going, and how long you expect to be gone?"
By then she was staring at the man, having given up all pretense of maintaining distance. She still had her gloves and bonnet on, but it never occurred to her to remove them. They were very weak protection, but it seemed to her that she was in a situation that was more of a battle than an intimacy. Far from moving closer, they seemed to be drifting apart already. The first hours of marriage did not seem to be going at all well.
Darcy, seeing her ire rise, also felt his own raising to match. His business was his business, and he was not accustomed to sharing it with anyone. Perhaps someday he might trust his new bride to share his secrets, but not that day. Absent this debacle of a marriage, he would already be sitting comfortably on board his ship. As it was, his schedule was tight. He also did not really want anyone knowing exactly what he was doing that did not need to know. Bargaining with a country that they were at war with was not unheard of, but there were plenty of people in the ton who would use his mission for political or monetary advantage if they could, and there were a hundred ways to do so. His uncle had arranged for him to get to Paris quietly, depending on contacts in the British Navy to get through the blockade to the French sailors and soldiers who would take him to Paris, so advertising his location to all and sundry seemed ill-advised. While he had not specifically caught his new bride gossiping, if she had a tenth of her mother's capacity for the sport, he would be doomed.
Thinking now was as good a time as any to establish the principle that, with or without the 'obey' part of the marriage vows, she was to live her life under his rules and his protection, he began, "Miss Bennet …" and blushed furiously at the slip of the tongue, before correcting with. "… Pardon me, I meant, Mrs. Darcy."
She just stared at him, feeling even more alone and isolated than she had before.
He continued, "I meant no offense. I must accustom myself to the change in your situation."
Elizabeth fumed that he did not seem to think his situation was changing, just hers. Later, she would probably think that to be an irrational and narrow‑minded interpretation, but that wisdom was not available to her during the moment.
She said somewhat grimly, "You are excused, sir."
Feeling on edge, Darcy said, "I cannot say where I am going with any precision, as it is a closely guarded secret. I expect to be gone three to six months, though nothing about those estimates is cast in stone. I must catch a ship on the dawn tide, which will not wait for me, and the next opportunity would not occur for over a month. We will part in Hatfield."
Elizabeth just stared at him in shock. "So, your new bride is supposed to just go to your estate, alone, to wait half a year for your return."
He just nodded his head. "Yes."
His headache was preventing him from realizing quite how rude he was being, and his anger at being entrapped made him unwilling to think on it overly much.
Elizabeth seethed. "And what exactly am I to do for this half‑year? Become mistress of your estate? Establish myself in the neighborhood? Entertain our neighbors? Visit the tenants?"
Darcy heard the stridency in her voice, and just pictured it escalating a little bit each year until she sounded like her mother. At the time, he was incapable of appreciating that she was starting from a very different place and would go in a very different direction if he just treated her well. He was also at that moment incapable of realizing just how rude he himself was acting, nor making the calculation that if he continued his present path, he would become the worst version of her father after some years. Neither party was reflective enough to understand that history repeats itself, and they were not getting a very good start.
Darcy had spent the six weeks of their acquaintance mostly avoiding her and what had, until the compromise, been a growing infatuation with her charms. Dreams notwithstanding, in the end, he really did not know her all that well. He had not the slightest idea if she would evolve to be more like her mother, or more like – well, he did not actually know any of her other family, so could not say. The aunt who had stood up with her seemed fashionable, polite, and elegant, but otherwise he knew nothing. In his current state of mind, he just assumed the worst and planned accordingly.
For her part, the lady had never actually liked the man. She had spent the same amount of time in his company as he had in hers, obviously, but she had looked at every interaction with her own prejudice, so she had learned even less than he had. She had made no real effort to disguise who she was, aside from refraining from telling any of the Netherfield party what she thought of them, while he had worked diligently to hide his growing attraction.
In the end, both were mostly captive to a series of thoughts and impressions driven by a single moment in time. For Elizabeth, it as the moment he had deemed her 'not handsome enough to tempt him', while for him, it was the moment of vulnerability when the Bennets had swooped in for the kill. Neither would be able to articulate those thoughts, though.
Darcy looked at her carefully. "No, you will not. My family's reputation is very important to me, and in fact, it has material consequences that I cannot explain at this moment. That is why we find ourselves in this situation. You will go to Pemberley, but you are not to entertain, or call on my neighbors. I prefer to manage those introductions myself."
It never occurred to him to explain that his reasoning was that some of his neighbors were not necessarily friendly, and a few were actively hostile. The fact that he edicted it, should be enough, so he blithely continued, "The tenants have been well looked after by my steward and my housekeeper for well over a decade, and they can continue the task until I return."
Elizabeth stopped herself just short of gasping, or crying, but seething in frustration, she asked, "Are there any other restrictions, Mr. Darcy?"
Not quite seeing just how angry she was, or more likely not caring, he said, "You may redecorate your chambers, so long as the changes are reasonable."
"And who is to be the arbiter of reasonableness?"
"Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper has overseen the house for many years. She knows what bounds decorations are to be kept in."
In a menacingly silent whisper, she said, "You may as well finish. What other conditions are to be laid on me during this Purgatory?"
She noticed they had been talking longer than she thought, as they were just entering Hatfield, and she presumed, going to the inn she had previously visited.
"You may walk anywhere you like, or ride if you choose, but do not use the carriage more than once or twice a week. You are to venture no farther than Kympton. You may do whatever you ordinarily do. You may read anything in the library except for the black shelves on the North wall."
"Pray, what is on the North Wall that I am supposed to be protected from?"
Not realizing how close he was to losing an eyeball, Darcy said, "They are the most valuable volumes, very old and collected over many generations. They require special handling."
Feeling more and more like she was entering some circle of Hell, Elizabeth asked, "What more? I am certain you are leaving something out?"
"The running of the household is up to the butler and housekeeper. If you wish any changes in its management you may discuss it and make suggestions, but they will have the final decisions. Both have known me since I was four years old, and they know how to maintain things the way I like them. I have no idea what kind of training or education you have, so we will discuss any other changes, or necessary improvements to your education, when I return."
"Are you quite finished," she growled with barely restrained fury?
Thinking he may as well get it all out on the table, Darcy said, "You may purchase clothing or jewelry or the like as you see fit, or you may hire masters to improve your accomplishments. You have your pin money to take care of both. I also expect you to pay any postage from your pin money, so you may wish to consider how much correspondence you wish to engage in."
By that point, Elizabeth was digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands, and she noticed that, as expected, they were practically shaking.
Hating to sound greedy, but at least wanting to know what was expected, she said, "All right, that seems fair. How hard could it be. Pray tell, how much is this store of pin money?"
Without batting an eye, Darcy said, "£40"
Finding that unhelpful, Elizabeth asked, "– per?"
"per annum."
At that point, Elizabeth thought it might be time to just give up. "Am I expected to look like Mrs. Darcy or Miss Bennet, on that. You realize that is £10 less than my current pin money, and my father buys my clothes."
"Perhaps that was correct yesterday. Today, I provide your pin money, and you buy your own clothes. As to looking like Mrs. Darcy, I am not overly concerned. The way you dress now is adequate for this interim period."
"I see. Did you pattern that amount after what your sister spends?"
Darcy at least looked abashed at that, but did not answer, so Elizabeth answered for him.
"No, I see. I suspect hers is much more but let me be clear on one thing. Forty pounds is perfectly enough for me, so long as I do not have to pay for my own food. I am not like your other female friends and feel no need to impress with my clothing, nor does my natural taste run to the vulgar or the expensive. With that amount, I will look no more, nor less elegant than I did as the daughter of an insignificant country squire. I will not be unhappy with that state of affairs, but is that the image you wish to project for the mighty Darcy family?"
"Until I return, I doubt you will be seen by enough people to matter. When I return, then I will work out how things are to be arranged. At that time, I will decide how you are to comport yourself, and I will decide how to introduce you to society with the least damage."
Seething, Elizabeth said, "All right, Mr. Darcy. We shall play it your way, but you should quit pretending that you care about the Darcy family's reputation. Sending a new wife to Pemberley, without her husband, and without even a wedding night will send a message nobody can mistake. You know perfectly well your servants will spread that fact around like wildfire. You may as well hang a sign on my neck saying, 'unwanted wife'."
Growing angrier and angrier, he snapped, "You should have thought about that before you compromised me!"
Elizabeth, whose patience had now been stretched to the limit shouted, "COMPROMISED You? Compromised You?"
Just barely getting her fury under control, she said, "Let us have this out once and for all, Mr. Darcy. I did not compromise you! I will freely admit that my mother did, but I had no part in it. I remind you of the sequence. You asked me to dance, and I reluctantly accepted. You pulled me over to the corner where my mother performed her evil, and I reluctantly went along. You grabbed my arm hard enough when she started screeching to leave a bruise that took over a week to heal. You returned to Hertfordshire of your own volition to ask my father for my hand, without even bothering to ask my opinion. I can assure you, sir, that I had no part in this debacle, and did all I could to escape it."
Darcy, losing his temper to match her, and feeling that not only was his life being ruined by an unwanted marriage, but his honor was being called into question by a woman he would never be able to escape, shouted back. "I do not believe it! All the advantages of this marriage are yours. You are perhaps not as rich and fashionable as you had hoped, but you are well provided for, and should we ever have children, they will have every advantage. You have entered one of the most respected families in England. You no longer need worry about your mother and sisters as I will hardly allow them to starve in the hedgerows, and simply being related to me will improve their prospects considerably. You will eventually make some sort of position among the ton. You will eventually curtsy to the Queen. All of the advantages accrue to you, and none to me."
Thoroughly appalled, Elizabeth said, "And these are the words of a gentleman?"
Giving full vent to his own ire, Darcy said, "You have some nerve to accuse me of ungentlemanly behavior. Perhaps I should pretend that this marriage is anything but an evil. Do you expect me to be happy at having the rest of my life dictated by a woman so selfish and uncouth as your mother? Should I be happy that I let the rough charms of a country miss lull me into letting my guard down momentarily? Should I be overjoyed that a mere two minutes of not watching my back cost me my freedom? Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? – to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?"
Drowning in fury, Elizabeth said, "I repeat, Mr. Darcy, for your own edification, in the probably vain hope that you will listen and believe me sooner or later. I did not compromise you! I never would. I do not even like you!"
"That has never stopped any fortune hunter before," he said with a sneer that she wanted to wipe off his face with an axe.
She growled, "No, you mistake me, Mr. Darcy, so let me be absolutely clear, in the hopes that someday we can find a way out of this farce. From the very beginning–from the first moment, I may almost say–of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."
Darcy, so angry he was seeing red and clenching his fists, felt the words like a hammer blow.
"It sounds like Wickham's lies found fertile ground. Pardon my mistake – I thought you cleverer than that, but apparently, I was wrong"
Elizabeth growled and moved closer to stare at him from a foot away, practically shouting, "Pay more attention, Mr. Darcy. When I said, 'a month', I meant literally 'one month', not some vague interval between one and three months. That opinion preceded my acquaintance with Mr. Wickham, and it was based entirely on my interactions with you."
Darcy cut the distance in half yet again and growled, "And yet, here we are, both of married to the last person in the world we could be prevailed on to marry."
Elizabeth saw, much too late, that her temper very well could ruin the entire rest of her life if she was not careful, and suspected it already had. She was under his power, and antagonizing him seemed like a blisteringly stupid strategy, but he got under her skin in a way nobody ever had before. She was beginning to suspect she had led far too sheltered of a life, and this man was going to be the death of her.
Calming slightly, she said, "Yes, here we are, and here, I suppose, we shall stay."
Darcy calmed down slightly, stared out the carriage window for a few minutes, and finally said, "We will not solve it here in the courtyard of this inn."
Elizabeth looked around, and noticed that they were in fact stopped in the courtyard of an inn, and there was another Darcy crested coach waiting, while several servants in Darcy livery stood around, far enough away to not overhear the conversation; she hoped rather than believed.
Darcy said, "I have to go. I have a ship leaving at dawn. I have several hours to travel, and several tasks to deal with when I get there. Go to Pemberley. Try not to be so angry, and I will do the same. When I return, I will work out how to make a life we can live."
Elizabeth, feeling thoroughly discouraged, said, "You will work it out?"
"Yes, I will work it out. Whatever you may claim your involvement was or was not, in the end, you chose to attach yourself to my family. True forced marriages do not exist in England. Your father did not drag you to the alter, and even if he had, you could have refused to speak the vows. You stood up and you said the vows, albeit with some obvious omissions. This is still my family, and as the head of it, I will determine our fate."
Elizabeth tried to think of some reply to what was quite possibly the stupidest thing any man had ever said on his wedding day, but she was singularly unable to come up with a single word.
Darcy sat, waiting for her to say something, but given the set of her jaw, he did not expect anything useful. Having never really dealt with women very much in his life, he assumed she would want to go off and cool off like a man would. It was unfortunate that the cooling off period was to last for months, but such was life. He imagined he was not the first, nor would he be the last husband to transition straight from the doghouse to a conveyance. He suspected sailors and soldiers endured this sort of thing routinely, and if they could manage, then he could.
He somewhat abruptly slid over to the door. Before opening it, he said, "I am sorry that we are parting with such animosity, but I cannot tarry. You have another two or three hours with one rest stop before stopping for the night, and you will be at Pemberley in 2 days. Get to know the house, and we will start our life, such as it is, when I return."
Still seething, Elizabeth could not think of anything to say, so she just nodded.
With a last look, the gentleman opened the door, stepped down, walked over to his other coach, and entered it without looking back.
Elizabeth watched the whole operation in consternation, until the other carriage pulled beside her coach on the way out.
