Author's Notes: And back to Luck is Not Always a Lady. There are some significant revisions as certain details from the original version are more set out in previous chapters and I've moved the bonus scene to its correct place in the story.
Chapter 11
Taking the Trouble to Practice
Having made his way past the hosts and a good many of Maria's "close" friends, George found himself looking longingly at the punch bowl and then at the reason why he both wanted to be at the bowl and was not allowed. He glanced around at the assembled throng attending Lord and Lady Gordon's ball, wishing he could feel a thrill at being among such illustrious personages; at one time he would have seen it as a great opportunity, but now it was rather losing its luster.
"Do not slouch, George," Maria's superior tone made him flinch.
"No, dearest," he said dutifully.
"Remember, you are now my husband and a Montcraven; use your charms wisely."
"Yes, dearest," he muttered agreeably, while inwardly cursing Lucy Younge for putting him in the path of Maria Montcraven. He could not believe that she had still been angry about Ramsgate. It had been sheer bad luck that Darcy had arrived the day before the elopement; why she blamed him for that, he could not fathom.
However, he remembered with crystal clarity their last meeting, when he asked her why Maria Montcraven. She had laughed and said, "Do you really believe that there are so many unprotected wealthy women in the world? No, you wanted wealth; she wanted a man willing to do anything for it, and I knew you were perfect." Then with an added measure of contempt, she had said, "Do you really wish to know what I received for arranging your meeting, George? Five pounds and a new evening dress and accessories." She looked him up and down as if cataloging his points. "And trust me, it was more than you were worth."
Apparently his attention had drifted too much as Maria suddenly tapped his arm with her fan. "Now, George, I see Honoria Stewart with Mr. Darcy and his bride. I absolutely must meet the nobody who snatched that matrimonial prize." She looked at the couple reflectively. "I had considered him a possibility for one of my nieces—Godfrey did so dote on them and that sister of his. Pity, the eldest is only coming out this year. I might have arranged something otherwise."
I very much doubt that, George thought. That prig likes his own way too much, otherwise I might now be married to Georgiana rather than you. Looking around the crowds, George could just make out Darcy's profile in the crowd. Trepidatious at the thought of facing him, he tried demurring. "Dearest, I do not think..."
"Nonsense, George," Maria interrupted, "Mr. Darcy is hardly going to give you the cut direct at Lady Gordon's ball, especially not while with his country bride. It might give people the impression that his offense was brought on by the notion that you might have gotten under her skirts before he did." She paused and looked him in the eye, placing the tip of her fan under his chin. "So, George dear, with that in mind, be polite, but reserve your charm for me."
George swallowed and then forced a smile. "Always, dearest."
"Good now, come along," she said, putting her arm through his, though she was most certainly the one guiding them through the crowd.
As they moved, George would admit that he had a certain amount of curiosity about the woman who had managed to trap Darcy into matrimony. Because that was what the majority of the rumors were since as far as anyone knew she had no wealth and no consequence to speak of. Though she would have to be quite the clever girl (or have quite the clever family) to have caught Darcy, who had been raised at his father's knee to be more than wary of every stratagem of those hoping to trick or trap him into matrimony, and George had seen him dodge more than a few tricky maneuvers over the years.
It was puzzling. While he had often been quite gleeful in using Lady Catherine's hopes for a union between Darcy and her daughter as a way of making Darcy more coldly unattainable and himself more sympathetic, George had never seriously believed that Darcy would actually marry his cousin, as he knew the man was too proud and concerned with his heritage to even consider risking it marrying someone so obviously sickly and unlikely to be able to carry an heir to term. However, he had always thought it would be someone of the same background, some titled heiress with a pedigree as long and dull as Darcy's whom he would offer for after a long and complicated negotiation with her father.
And as for the notion that this might be a love match, George found that even more unlikely than Darcy having managed for once to have a lapse of attention and been ensnared in someone else's design. But then George had no real idea of what kind of woman would draw Darcy's attention, as Darcy had always been so very fastidious in his personal behavior, looking down on George for what he called his "licentious ways" from the time George had first noticed what girls were hiding under their clothes, so if Darcy had ever indulged his own appetites— if he even had them (which George was inclined to doubt, as he believed the man had ice in his veins)— he had been so discreet that George had never even heard a whisper, and he had looked for any chink in that prig's armor of self-righteousness, just one good vice he could have thrown back in his face. So he doubted the man would even know what to do with a woman much less be overcome with passion in the wilds of Hertfordshire.
They had finally neared the group, and George put on his most unconcerned expression.
"Sir Nicholas, Lady Stewart," Maria's voice rang out. "I thought I would never find you in this crush."
"Oh, I never doubted your ability, Mrs. Montcraven," Sir Nicholas said, cynically.
"Pay no notice to my husband, Mrs. Montcraven," Lady Stewart said. "He's been in a poor mood all day. I've been looking for you myself; I have no notion what Helen was thinking to invite so many people. Have you met the Darcys yet? Do come along."
George could feel his wife's fingers digging into his arm as a reminder to be on his best behavior, but he was equally determined that if anyone would be said to behave badly it would not be him. He was sure he appeared perfectly cool when he actually stood face to face with Darcy and his new wife, who fulfilled none of his possible expectations. A small brunette with a light though not too slender figure, she neither was a classic beauty nor overtly sensual in appearance. There appeared to be nothing out of the common way about her, though George certainly would not have minded an opportunity to find out what treasures she might be hiding under that dress. A further tightening of his wife's fingers brought his attention back, and by Darcy's glower, he knew his slight appraisal had not gone unnoticed.
Lady Stewart was speaking. "...And it is so intriguing to see so many newly wed couples together this evening. Mr. and Mrs. Montcraven, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, Mr. and Mrs. Montcraven."
Maria and Mrs. Darcy curtsied slightly while the men bowed, Darcy's bow being so slight as to be nearly nonexistent.
"Mr... Montcraven and I have met before," Darcy said coolly.
"That would be before he became Mr. Montcraven, would it not?" Lady Stewart said. "Such a reversal of the usual circumstances."
"I beg your pardon?" Mrs. Darcy interjected, in apparent surprise.
George tried not to react at Maria's supercilious voice as she answered. "The Montcraven name is a much older and more illustrious name, Mrs. Darcy, and it was a condition of the marriage contract. My husband understands well the importance of a name, is not that so?"
"Absolutely, Mrs. Montcraven, and I am the most fortunate of men to have found you," he said with he hoped was a creditable attempt at sincerity.
"I wonder if John Wickham would share those sentiments," Darcy said quietly.
George felt himself redden as he took in the double meaning as his father had been both proud of his own accomplishments and ashamed of his son's near the end of his life. Pompous ass.
"Mr. Montcraven, forgive me," Mrs. Darcy interjected, "but I feel as if we may have met before, but I am afraid I cannot recall the details."
George was surprised to see a sudden trace of a smile appear on Darcy's face. "If you would cast your mind back to last November and a certain horse and dog."
Bloody hell, Darcy's bit of fluff was there, George thought, casting back trying to recall. Other than Darcy and Denny, he could not remember anything other than a couple of giggling girls, and he was sure that Mrs. Darcy had not been one of them.
"Oh, that was the day I first truly appreciated the... charm of your smile," Mrs. Darcy said, looking at her husband, and George could swear he saw a flash of passion pass between them. "I almost feel as if I should thank you, Mr. Montcraven, as that day marked the beginning of our courtship." She looked at him with a bright smile and a sparkle in her eyes, and he knew then that she knew everything, and what was worse, she was a sanctimonious tease, a bloody perfect counterpoint to Darcy. Hopefully she would drive him mad.
Damn it all to hell. Well, he would still play the game. "It is my pleasure to bring two such well suited souls together," he said.
"I shall probably never be more grateful to you," Darcy said, his dry tone conveying little emotion. He glanced around. "Now if you could excuse us, there is someone with whom I should speak." He nodded to the group, while putting his hand over his wife's on his arm and walked off.
Maria watched them depart with a spiteful little smile on her lips. "So that is the country bride. I must admit I was expecting something... more. After all, Fitzwilliam Darcy was so elusive. Not that they stayed long enough to let us speak to her. He was probably afraid her country manners would show too much. But I would love to know how she managed to catch him."
"Probably through the same miserable sense of humor," George muttered, but was ignored, as Lady Stewart spoke.
"Oh, Mrs. Montcraven, Fitzwilliam Darcy has ever been his own man; like you, he has always known what he wanted. He simply has a different set of standards. Which reminds me, I have not yet asked you about your latest acquisition."
Maria raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean to my stables?" she asked.
Lady Stewart smiled disingenuously. "Of course. It was a stud, was it not?"
Maria frowned. "No, a gelding."
George watched as Lady Stewart's gaze slid over to him with a slight smirk. "Oh, what a pity," she replied.
George looked desperately around for the punch bowl.
~o~O~o~
As Darcy maneuvered the pair of them towards a quiet corner of the room, a small smile played over his lips. When Elizabeth quietly inquired as to the reason, Darcy replied, "The sight of George Wickham married to Maria Montcraven has almost made our appearance here worthwhile."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Almost, sir?" she asked.
Leaning close to his wife's ear, he whispered. "I still say that we would have found more pleasure remaining at home in our rooms exploring the mysteries of God's creation."
Flushing slightly, Elizabeth replied, just as quietly, "There is no reason why we cannot do that when we return, sir." Then in a more normal tone continued, "Besides, Mr. Darcy, if we did not attend, how could you practice your conversational skills and how could I improve my impressions? Have we learned nothing over the past few months, sir?"
His smile took on a slightly wicked aspect as he replied, "We have learned many things, madam, but forgive me if I prefer some of my more recent lessons in pleasing a woman worthy of being pleased."
"Well, Mr. Darcy, this woman will be most willing to please you later, if you will do your duty now," Elizabeth said easily. "Now, was there a particular party you were seeking out or simply an escape?"
"Both, for if I must be forced to converse I would prefer it to be with more congenial companions, and I cannot imagine that you wished to linger. I also prefer having you to myself if only for a moment."
"I might have enjoyed conversing further with Sir Nicholas and Lady Stewart, perhaps, but not Mr. and Mrs. Montcraven. However, I am afraid I am not tall enough to peer over this crowd nor is this my circle of acquaintance, so I will have to rely upon you to be my guide."
Darcy was glancing around with an air of indifference that Elizabeth knew all too well. She also recognized when his expression suddenly froze tighter, though that she admitted that it had taken more familiarity with him to be able to see the change.
"Whom do you see?" she asked.
"My uncle and aunt Fitzwilliam," he said. "Apparently they have finally made it to Town."
"And I am sure they are suffering acute pangs of curiosity," Elizabeth said.
"Of course," Darcy replied tightly. "It is not as if they would deign do us the courtesy of visiting us much less take the trouble to see us wed to assuage it."
"Shall we get this over with then?" Elizabeth asked.
Darcy nodded and tightened his grip on her arm as they approached the Fitzwilliams. Elizabeth was struck with how the two resembled one another, light hair and watery blue eyes, both looking dried up and sallow like squeezed lemons, and the expressions on their faces were equally sour. Their appearance was not helped by their clothes, however correctly they were styled. He seemed swallowed by the collar of his coat which made him look more shriveled than perhaps he was, and she was served ill by the color of her dress and turban which were both a rather bright yellow that completed her resemblance to a lemon.
Elizabeth had to compose herself as she found their matching expressions of discontent quite amusing, though she knew that Darcy was taking little pleasure in the meeting. However, he did relax as she squeezed his arm and looked up at him with a reassuring smile. Once they reached them, Darcy with a cool civility greeted his uncle and aunt who returned his salutation with even cooler regard with his aunt immediately saying, "Will you not introduce us to this... lady, nephew?" in a voice as sour as the rest of her look.
Elizabeth found herself rather wishing for a glass of good lemonade and hoped she would be able to get her husband to laugh about this later, as at the moment she knew he was holding his temper.
"Of course, aunt," he said flatly. "Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam, this is my wife, the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Mrs. Darcy, Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Fitzwilliam."
"A pleasure," Elizabeth said, truthfully, as she was finding amusement, however improper in the meeting.
"Quite," Mr. Fitzwilliam said, clipped out, as his wife took her time examining Elizabeth from head to foot.
"That is an unusually dark shade of green for one so young," she finally said with a sniff.
"And it becomes my wife exceptionally well," Darcy replied coldly, then turning to his uncle. "I trust your trip to Town was easy this year."
"When is it ever easy?" Mr. Fitzwilliam snapped out. "Not when our estate might as well be in Scotland as far north as it is. And nothing to do but listen to the gossip about who has gone to Gretna Green."
"My aunt and uncle reside north of Carlisle," Darcy murmured to his wife, who nodded.
Ignoring the byplay between the Darcys, Oliver Fitzwilliam continued speaking. "It was too bad that my brother would not loan us the house in Bath. But that is him all over. Inconsiderate of family, as I am sure you are familiar with," the last was delivered with a significant look that Elizabeth supposed was to convey a double insult instead of a single one.
"I am somewhat familiar with the notion," Darcy said evenly, Elizabeth understanding his own insult. "Now if you would excuse us, I do hope you have a pleasant evening."
"As well as can be expected in such a crush; what are the Gordons thinking inviting so many undesirables," Mrs. Fitzwilliam muttered, as her husband nodded agreement which Darcy took as enough of a dismissal as to lead Elizabeth away.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Elizabeth said, "That was brief."
"Mercifully," Darcy replied. "Otherwise their complaints might more specifically have turned towards us, and I would hardly wished to cause a scene by calling out my uncle here."
"Well, now that they have had the opportunity to look me over," Elizabeth said, "I rather expect we shan't be disturbed by having to speak to them again this evening."
"Indeed," he said, then huffed. "Undesirables. I know who I would put in that category."
"But then those seem to be the ones that have a certain entertainment value," Elizabeth said.
Darcy stopped and looked at her closely before smiling. "You can find amusement in practically anything, my dear, can you not?"
"I would rather laugh than cry, sir," she replied. "Now can you spot anyone that would prove to be congenial company for you?"
Relaxing a bit, Darcy looked around them room and then smiled when he spotted a familiar figure. "Mrs. Darcy, I believe I have found some truly congenial companions, though they are not strangers to you. However, I think I may be forgiven since it is in fact Mr. Bingley and your sister."
Elizabeth smiled brightly. "Oh, I was sure they would never make it into town in time. Jane was reluctant to leave Mary as the only other married daughter near Mama just now."
"Was that in the letter from Mrs. Collins you received today?" he asked. "I did not like to inquire."
"I thought it was because you had other plans for me that did not involve conversation," Elizabeth said with a reminiscent smile. "Are you still concerned that their extending their visit is somehow connected to your relative? It is not. Mama misses Kitty and Lydia now that they have gone away to school and is taking solace in the daughter she can currently keep at hand, and Mr. Collins is apparently quite eager to begin learning the rudiments of estate management from Papa. Apparently he wants to be prepared for his and Mary's future whenever it may come to pass, though he is careful to say that he expects it only many years down the line. Perhaps my father might be inclined to extend some blame, but I am pleased to see him stirring from his bookroom. Who knew that Mary would be such a good influence on our cousin? Now where is Jane?"
Taking her husband's arm, Elizabeth urged him to lead them to their sister and brother. They had hardly made it a few steps when Bingley spotted them and hurried over with all the enthusiasm of a terrier pup. "Darcy, I am pleased to see you. I had half thought you had managed to send your regrets after all."
Jane and Elizabeth merely clasped hands while their husbands spoke.
"I am afraid not," Darcy said solemnly, with only a hint of a smile at his wife. "I had a promise to honor. We rather expected it would be you that would not make an appearance."
"Oh, well, we had a late start. Caroline was determined to shine tonight, as she is determined to capture some elusive heart or other," Bingley said one hand waving vaguely.
"And where is Miss Bingley?" Darcy inquired, clearly noting her absence.
"She had a slight mishap when we entered," Jane said softly with a glance at her husband, more towards Elizabeth. "Someone trod on the hem of her dress. Louisa is helping her with the repairs."
"We were charged with the office of finding you," Bingley added. "She is eager to pay her respects to you and Mrs. Darcy."
What Elizabeth was sure was being left unsaid was that Miss Bingley wanted to be sure to make the most of her current connection little though she had relished losing out the prize of Pemberley to what she still obviously thought of as a country upstart. After all, Miss Bingley was still a single woman in possession of a good dowry in want of a well connected and even more wealthy husband; she was one to count herself a failure if she could not obtain her ambitions in marriage unlike Fitzwilliam's Aunt Graves. Elizabeth would put no impediments in her path, for the sooner Miss Bingley found a husband of her own, the sooner her sister would have her own home to herself, with the added inducement that it would be easier to not invite a married Caroline to visit at Pemberley, as Miss Bingley's tardy pleasantries hardly made up for her previous spitefulness.
With a polite smile, Elizabeth said, "Is there any of her particular acquaintance here tonight?"
"I believe she is hoping to see a Miss Crawford and her brother," Jane said.
"Henry Crawford of Everingham," Bingley said, and in a low voice added, "Louisa thinks he might be quite suitable for Caroline." Then looking around. "Oh, I think the dancing is about to begin. Well, it is Caroline's misfortune if she has not found us yet, as I believe our wives owe us a dance, do they not?"
Darcy smiled. "Indeed they do." He looked at Elizabeth. "Will you do me the honor, Mrs. Darcy?"
"But, of course, Mr. Darcy. It is my pleasure," she said, as she took his arm again.
As they walked towards the dance floor, Darcy leaned down to whisper. "Actually, the pleasure is entirely mine."
~o~O~o~
It was a few hours later when Darcy hoped to finally convince his wife that he had sufficiently fulfilled his promise, and they could make their excuses to leave for home. He had conversed with more people than he cared to, but it had been made simpler by his wife's ease and liveliness. No one seemed to intimidate her and attempted snubs seemed merely to amuse her. But what pleased him most were the times he could steal her away to a quiet corner for a moment's flirtation. But now he was trying to steal her away from the event itself. Unfortunately as they made their way across the room, they were accosted by an all too familiar figure: Miss Bingley. They had, of course, seen and spoken with her earlier in the evening, a brief encounter during which he managed to escape having to ask her to dance as her next partner, a young man with whom Darcy had only a passing acquaintance, came to claim her before the conversation progressed far enough to make that a necessity.
After that meeting, it had been easy enough to avoid her, as it seemed she was throwing herself whole-heartedly into the evening, focusing her attentions on the eligible men, though he noticed her looking around for someone in particular. He assumed it was Mr. Crawford, though he felt she was wasting her time in that pursuit as he knew the man by reputation, and if there was any man determined to avoid matrimonial entanglements he was certainly one. From what he understood Mr. Crawford was more interested in a challenge than having any honorable intention, and frankly he felt that Miss Bingley would hardly qualify as a suitable challenge for which she should be thankful.
Unfortunately it seemed their reprieve from her company was over, and she was determined to use them to impress someone, he assumed.
"Dear Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley said with cloying tones as she practically pounced on the two of them as they passed by. "I have so been longing to introduce you to my dear friend Miss Crawford and her brother."
Glancing at his wife with a resigned expression, they both consented to the introduction. Darcy reminded himself that Miss Bingley was at least treating Elizabeth with an equal deference as himself, however little either of them liked her manner or the fact that it only truly began once they had spoken their vows at the wedding. He wondered at her own lack of discernment in realizing that neither of them were in the least fooled by her sudden about face in her treatment of Elizabeth.
He remembered quite clearly her behavior immediately after he and Elizabeth had become engaged. Knowing that however little reason she had to feel disappointment in his engagement but wishing that she be given some consideration in how she learned of it, Darcy had asked Bingley to share the news with Miss Bingley in private. How she reacted, he did not know, but that evening she remained in her room with a headache. By the next day, she was subdued yet civil to both him and Georgiana, much to his relief, as he had grown to despise her overly familiar manner. However, he was less pleased with her behavior towards Elisabeth, as she alternated between icy politeness and trying to ignore her entirely, right up until the wedding breakfast, when she suddenly seemed to recall that to antagonize Elizabeth would be to antagonize him, and her old cloying manner returned to be divided equally between the two of them, as she suddenly behaved as if she and Elizabeth were the oldest and dearest of friends. Darcy was determined that for the sake of Bingley and his wife that he would not cut the acquaintance of Miss Bingley, but she was vastly mistaken if she thought that would garner her any particular attentions or possible influence from either him or Elizabeth.
Turning his attention back to the group, he noted that Miss Crawford seemed pleasant enough, which was unexpected considering what little that he knew of her was that she was an intimate friend of Lady Stornaway and her sister Mrs. Fraser, two determined social climbers whose marriages were everything he despised and whose husbands he tended to avoid. However, it was no surprise that she would be exactly the kind of woman Miss Bingley would most want to befriend, one with social connections and a single brother. As to Mr. Crawford, unfortunately, he seemed very liable to live up to his less than reputable name, and Darcy could not like the way his attention became fixed on Elizabeth the moment they were introduced. He had heard too much of the games Mr. Crawford tended to play with women's hearts to want him anywhere near any woman of his family. Not that he feared for Elizabeth's heart, for he knew it was entirely his own; he merely wished to spare her the discomfort of the man's attentions and to be certain that Mr. Crawford could have no excuse to extend their acquaintance as such as to be able to impose his presence on his sister Georgiana.
"Mrs. Darcy, what a pleasure to meet you," Crawford said. "All London has been wanting to meet the woman who has captured the elusive Mr. Darcy."
"I am afraid they will be quite disappointed as I believe it would be more accurate to state that it was Mr. Darcy who captivated me with his manifold virtues," Elizabeth replied, smiling at her husband.
"Perhaps, you could tell us, Miss Bingley," Miss Crawford interjected. "After all, you were present during much of their courtship, were you not?"
Elizabeth could see Miss Bingley struggling with her natural disinclination to say anything kind about her with her equal desire to remain in her husband's good graces. After a long moment, she said, "It is not for me to say, though I do remember Mr. Darcy expressing his admiration of Mrs. Darcy's eyes early in their acquaintance, and Mrs. Darcy seemed quite pleased to converse with him on a number of occasions." She looked mostly at Mr. Crawford as she spoke, while the man kept his eyes fixed on Elizabeth.
Disliking having any details of his and Elizabeth's relationship bandied about, Darcy was at least somewhat mollified by Miss Bingley's circumspection, though more annoyed by Crawford's slightly overfamiliar manner towards his wife, though she seemed oblivious to it.
"It was a mutual appeal then," Elizabeth said with a slight laugh, looking up at Darcy.
"You are too modest, madam," Crawford replied. "It is easily apparent that you have charms enough to capture any man's attention."
"How fortunate that I captured the right man's attention," Elizabeth said, again turning towards Darcy. Perhaps she was not so oblivious after all.
"I am the fortunate one, Mrs. Darcy," Darcy replied with a glare at Crawford. "If you will please excuse us." He took his wife's arm, as she curtseyed politely to the trio.
Once they were sufficiently distant from the trio, Elizabeth turned back to look at them. "I am afraid that Miss Bingley will once again be doomed to disappointment."
Darcy looked at the group where Miss Bingley was standing close to Mr. Crawford, speaking determinedly while the man's gaze drifted out over the crowd until it rested on the two of them and a most annoying smirk appeared on his face. Darcy led Elizabeth further away until they were out of sight.
"Yes, he seems far more interested in paying attention to a married woman than her," he said.
"Pity the poor married woman as she found him not at all to her tastes," Elizabeth said.
"Oh," Darcy said in a low voice. "May I ask what she finds to her tastes?"
With a flirtatious smile, Elizabeth leaned closer and said quietly, "She prefers an honorable, passionate gentleman who despises deceit, whose stare makes her weak, and whom she can trust with everything."
Darcy closed his eyes a moment. "May we please leave, Elizabeth? Your words deserve a proper thanks that I cannot give here."
"I believe that I am quite fatigued with the company, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said. "And I think I would prefer a quite improper thanks, if you so please."
He smiled at her. "I do so please. Let us return home."
As he and Elizabeth were awaiting their carriage, Darcy saw George Wick... Montcraven standing across the room. The man was standing next to a column, leaning upright against it a glazed look in his eyes and a fixed smile on his face, listening to his wife who spoke without particularly noting if he were listening or not. Curiously, as Darcy looked at him, he felt none of his old sense of anger and contempt but instead a strange sense of relief in realizing that Wickham— he would never get used to the new name no matter how appropriate— had married the one woman whose selfishness rivaled Wickham's own and whose control of the purse strings would guarantee his good behavior for life. It was almost as if the fates had designed them for one another.
Still, if Wickham had not made such a fool of himself in Meryton, Darcy would likely have never have ended up conversing with Elizabeth as he had. They might have parted ways, each returning to their respective circles. Perhaps he would not have walked with her to Longbourn. The ball at Netherfield might have turned out very differently. He took Elizabeth's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. She looked up at him, smiled warmly, and leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment. In a sense, it could be said that he owed some of his current good fortune to Mr. Montcraven.
Darcy looked from his wife back across the room. Mrs. Montcraven had not stopped talking, while Wickham looked tired, and for a fleeting moment, Darcy felt a bit of pity for the man.
A very little bit.
But then their carriage was at the door, and he forgot all about George Wickham as Elizabeth drew his attention back to her, and he was lost in thoughts of the mutual pleasures in store for them at home.
Looking into Elizabeth's eyes, Darcy thought back on how everything in his life, good and bad, had worked together to bring him here to this moment, to her. He had always believed that a man made his own fortune but having a woman as wonderful as Elizabeth sharing his life made him think that maybe, just maybe there was such a thing as luck. And if so, it had treated him better than any other man in the world.
The End (Almost)
Next Up: The Epilogue, set 10 years in the future.
End Notes: Well, the story proper ends here, and all we have left is the epilogue, which will be coming on Monday.
As I've mentioned I do tend to edit all the way up to the day before posting so now is the time to make requests for information or questions that need to be answered, or whose futures you're most curious about. Perhaps the answers are already there, but if not, if it's not too complicated, I'm sure I can insert something that would serve.
Also here appear the Oliver Fitzwilliams. They were created basically when I decided that one of Colonel Fitzwilliam's reasons for spending Christmas with Darcy and Georgiana in Hertfordshire was that there were relatives he could not abide staying with his family. But then the mention of them ended up feeling too detailed for me to not have them make at the very least a token appearance here. That was also partially responsible for the mentions of Darcy's family at the beginning of the previous chapter. And this was also about the time I started thinking, "Another scene or two? Sure, it's not like this story isn't already twice as long as I intended. So why not two more?"
I also realize that Darcy was being a bit unreasonable in his criticism about them attending the wedding, as it would be highly unusual for relatives settled so far to travel to a wedding, much less estranged ones, and also having been married only two weeks, they certainly would not be receiving visitors, and this is the Darcys' first public appearance since the wedding. But then Darcy really does not like this set of relatives (and it is not so inaccurate in that the Oliver Fitzwilliams would certainly be curious but would refuse to do anything so mundane as actually visiting Darcy or inviting him to visit in order to meet his bride; they really are unpleasant people), so I figured being unreasonable was in fact reasonable.
The scene with Henry Crawford was originally written as a bonus outtake for the original version of "Luck is Not Always a Lady." This is pre-Mansfield Park so he hasn't caused a scandal by running off with a married woman, but he still has a reputation as a confirmed bachelor. I chose Crawford because I wanted Miss Bingley to be pursuing another eligible bachelor that wouldn't be interested in her but for an entirely different reason than Darcy, and he seemed to fit the bill best. But in this case I think Miss Bingley is quite fortunate that Crawford wouldn't be interested in her as he's a rake and a manipulator who toys with women as a challenge and then dumps them once he's succeeded in capturing their hearts.
I believe Fanny Price would have been miserable with him because the great interest she held for him is the fact that she disapproved of him and wouldn't fall into his arms when he wanted her to. He was always about the challenge and if he had her as a wife, her moralistic nature would soon lose its appeal, her quiet nature would make her hate the life he wanted to give her, and he'd soon be off, hopefully trying to be discreet in his indiscretions. No, I would never, ever ship Fanny/Henry, even if I find Edmund to be something of a drip. Crawford would need a complete personality transplant for that to work, which is a large reason I don't often read Mansfield Park fanfics, too many are Henry/Fanny and that pairing makes my skin crawl.
Crawford is like the anti-Darcy. While Darcy is stand-offish in order to avoid giving Elizabeth the wrong idea (and even then he had no idea how well he'd succeeded), Henry deliberately plays games with two sisters and starts with the idea of toying with Fanny's heart as well (that he fell into his own snare does not at all excuse his purpose to begin with). When Darcy rescues Lydia, he does it for Elizabeth's happiness, not to gain her gratitude. When Henry helps Fanny's brother, he does it in the expectation of earning her gratitude and her hand. And of course, where ultimately Darcy is honorable and constant, yet not pressing, Henry needs to be pressed to do the right thing, can't take no for an answer, and fails when his ego is wounded by Maria's apparent indifference. Nope, I loathe Henry Crawford far more than I loathe Wickham and that is saying a lot. I think if I ever wrote a bad day equivalent for Henry Crawford, it would very likely end up being a (very short) horror story (and I don't particularly write horror stories, my Zorro meets Dracula story notwithstanding, as I think that was more supernatural adventure than horror) not a slapstick comedy.
Also, finally, having someone ask about Caroline's reaction to the news made me realize that I really hadn't bothered with considering it, especially since I figured it would be a case of "Oh, I see. Excuse me please" whereupon she would go to her room and start screaming into her pillow. However, it did seem that I should do something, so at the last minute, I added a little extra detail of what happened in the Caroline scene, as well as adding a few more details to the Crawfords as their description seemed suddenly unbalanced with the new addition. I did do a quick check to remind me who Mary Crawford's friends in London were. So if this ends up coming across as a bit awkward, its hasty addition is why.
To Guest who reviewed 9 & 10: Thank you. I tend to go back and forth on my opinion of Bingley (between too dependent on others to flat out spineless weakling) but mostly I write him like on over-enthusiastic puppy who bears a somewhat passing resemblance to P.G. Wodehouse's Bingo Little. So I did enjoy having Darcy propose first (even if he had to put up with Bingley's whining afterwards). I also enjoyed puncturing Darcy's opinions on whose family was worse behaved.
As for Wickham, considering how lightly he got off for his misdeeds; I was just so happy to give him to someone who would take over the responsibility of keeping him out of trouble for the rest of his life (no way is he outliving his wife).
I'm sorry that there really isn't any more to speak of with the other sisters; obviously we hear a little here and a little more about their futures in the epilogue. But this really was meant to be a shortish tale, focusing on Darcy & Elizabeth and on Wickham to a lesser extent, so the best I could do was give more to Mary, since her fate changed the most.
To Jannet Doe: Thanks. I'm glad I succeeded in contrasting the couples.
To amr: Well, obviously now, George only got a moment to ogle, and it took some time to get Elizabeth home, but I hope you enjoyed it. I will also say that seeing Sir Lucas instead of Sir William is like nails on a chalkboard to me (it won't cause me to give up an otherwise good story, but it does act as irritant that makes me a bit more critical than I would be normally). Actually I have the same reaction if in Zorro someone calls Diego, Don de la Vega rather than Don Diego (a mistake that the version I write for made once, as well as the Sir Last Name instead of first name which almost ruins a very emotionally charged moment of my favorite episode, but I use the excuse that Diego was very agitated in the moment, but still, I hate that error). I may not have all the aspects of the system down, but that's one that I've gotten ingrained. And as I was checking the forms of address, I noticed the differences between the male and female offspring of an earl and that just gave me something else for Oliver Fitzwilliam to be bitter about and an easy joke for the earl to make.
And once again, I still have time to add a bit to the epilogue before Monday, and all feedback is more than welcome.
