MEASURE OF A MAN


Part XVIII: Life


"Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us farther than to-day.

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Psalm of Life


When news of Darcy's engagement circulated, whispers and rumors abounded like bees from an upset hive. The resolute, reclusive, and most eligible bachelor had finally found a wife. "It was about time," Society declared, "But such a woman! No fortune and such connections! What could it mean?"

Curiosity abounded and it was with eager eyes that the Ton sought out Miss Jane Bennet of Gracechurch Street whenever she went out. They found what they expected to find – a stunning beauty. Then, it all made sense. Of course, Mr. Darcy would choose such a woman and tolerate the hints of scandal around her origins. He was a man, after all, and he was besotted by a voluptuous form and a face that even the angels would admire. While the Ton could admire Jane Bennet's physical charms and they reluctantly admitted her amiable manner and graceful temperament, they could find little else of value to admire.

"Such a family! Such a history! It is not to be borne!"

Yet, for all the clitter and clamor of gossiping tongues, when Mr. Darcy emerged with Jane Bennet on his arm, he could not help the swell of pride he felt as the eyes of all turned upon them. While onlookers may have been admiring the woman on his arm for her appearance or despising her for her origins, it was only Mr. Darcy who knew the truth of the matter. He had managed to catch the loveliest woman in all of England, and her beauty was of the type which would not fade with time nor age. Yet, this was a secret he determined to keep to himself, let the rest think what they may.

Afterall Jane Bennet's greatest strength… and her greatest weakness… was that she inevitably grew to love those within her circle of acquaintance. Whether deserving or no, returned or unrequited, her love would continue as earnestly and steadfastly as the sun which rose and set each day. To fail to love the man who would be her husband was completely outside her nature. Jane's nature was such that, even if she had married a fool or a wastrel, she still would have sought to love him unconditionally. However, when her betrothed proved himself to be a man of equal loyalty, sense, and potential for genuine devotion, it was little wonder that her attachment developed exponentially in return. How could either fail to deepen and nourish the tender feelings for another who so sought to love and be loved in return?

The soon-to-be Mrs. Darcy was no stranger to scandal and she had lived too long outside the formal approbation of Society to be much bothered by their applause or rejection. She had no great love for London and even less for the contradictory, arbitrary rules of London society. While Darcy and Jane had spoken at length of the reaction the Ton would have to their engagement, Darcy had been entirely unprepared for his reception by Jane's friends and family.

In hindsight, he should have anticipated a less than favorable opinion of himself to linger, even after his attempts at apology, and he had no one to blame but himself for their antipathy. However, he had no inkling how deeply the animosity towards him remained or how skeptical Jane's circle would be to give their sister in marriage to a man such as himself.

The heartfelt approval of the Gardeners was the easiest to gain. While it took hours and hours of questioning, he was given a fair appraisal and then warmly welcomed into their family. The youngest remaining Bennet sister, also, was quick to accept him.

"At last! Now, Mama can stop fretting about Jane ending up an old maid and we can all rest easy knowing Jane is well," Kitty said. Then, she moved on to discuss the latest bonnets acquired for their shop in town and the ineptitude of her shop assistant and that was that.

Nothing prepared Darcy for the inquisition he received by Mr. Jones, from the Foundlings Hospital. The day after the publication of the engagement reached the papers, the verbose music teacher arrived at Darcy House, his every manner and word dubious and laced with hardly suppressed anger.

"Miss Bennet deserves better," Mr. Jones spat, once they were alone in Darcy's study.

"I beg your pardon?" Mr. Darcy sputtered, incredulously.

"I know what men of your station are like… and how you treat the women in your life. Miss Bennet deserves better. I will not tolerate some dandified rake to acquire her like an ornament and then force her to endure the dishonor such men are wont to shower upon their wives. She is too good, too kind, too gentle a creature. Her heart could not endure it."

"I assure you, Mr. Jones, I only have the utmost respect for Miss Bennet and I am fully sensible of her worthiness. I would not dare treat my wife in such a manner."

"Oh, that is what all of you great men say and then, well, it is left to the rest of us to take care of your bastards at the Hospital, once you have finished showing your 'respect' to the rest of the women around you. I have heard all about your family, your connections. They are nothing to be proud of."

Mr. Darcy's face heated in anger and he was about to retort something trite and entirely defensive in response when something in Mr. Jones' expression made him pause. The accusations against him were directed at his rank, his station, those known as "gentlemen" and he was guilty purely by association. It was not his individual behaviors or merit which were called into question as much as the reputation of his class. To such a man as Mr. Jones, Darcy could not claim innocence on behalf of masters of estates across the country. Darcy himself knew of too many examples of the indiscretions of his companions to protest. The accusations against his own family, too, were apt. However, he had never heard his family connections spoken of as a liability rather than an asset and he was stunned.

Thus, Mr. Darcy sat quietly and permitted Mr. Jones to continue to insult "men of his station" until the man finally ran out of words and fell into equal silence. Mr. Jones continued to breathe heavily, his face still red with his anger and his fists clenched.

"Mr. Jones, there are not enough words to make full amends for the ways men of my station have abused their positions and mistreated those they were meant to care for. However, for what it may be worth to you, I apologize for the wounds inflicted on those you cared about and I can promise, I will treat Miss Bennet with all the care and devotion she is worthy of. I do not pretend to be a perfect, but I will try my best to behave as an honorable one."

Mr. Jones gave him a dubious, nearly scathing glare. "For Miss Bennet's sake, I pray you will."

Then, the man rose and departed without another word.

The confrontation with Mr. Jones left Mr. Darcy discomposed for some time. It took a considerable amount of thought before he realized just what unsettled him and even stumbling upon the cause did not entirely restore his composure.

It was, once again, the disclosure of Darcy's own arrogance. He had assumed it was only those of his circle which would have an issue with his marriage and that the only prejudices they had to overcome were those against Jane Bennet.

He was wrong.

It was not only Mr. Jones who held deep-seated animosity towards those of his class and those who gravitated towards Miss Bennet were of the type which would not be impressed by rank and station. Those who truly cared about his wife-to-be were not to be won over easily and he had to prove his merit over and over again.

It was nearly a fortnight into their engagement when a man sought Darcy out in his study and quickly introduced himself as Captain Hayward. Darcy's surprise was so great he nearly forgot to respond to the man's introduction and sat there like a gaping fish.

For nearly five years, Darcy had heard tales of the legendary "Captain Hayward" and Darcy had grown to admire the man to the point of near awe. This was the man who had proven himself to be all that Darcy had failed to be and was, in Jane's words, "the very best of men." This was the man who had rescued his beloved, over and over again. Thus, Darcy imagined the man to fit his reputation and stand as tall in his person as the shadow he cast on the lives of those around him.

Yet, this was not to be. The man in his study stood nearly a head shorter than Darcy and was, in every aspect of his appearance, entirely unremarkable. While handsome in his features and strongly-built in form, he was not anywhere near the paragon that Darcy had imagined in his mind. If Darcy had met the man in the streets of London or in a ballroom, Darcy would have entirely dismissed him as an acquaintance not worth pursuing.

Darcy shook his head, wryly chastising himself again. Would he ever learn to assess people properly or learn to discern those traits in others which truly mattered? Or would he perpetually prove himself blinded by pride? It was in her discernment of the characters of other than Jane most convicted Darcy and reminded him of his shortcomings. If he could only see the world through the eyes of his beloved, he would have such a different picture of those around him!

In his mind, he pictured the titan Themis. There, outstretched before her the Greek goddess held a scale and with it she weighed those around her – both what they were and what they could be. With the same mysterious Sight that enabled Themis to establish the Oracle at Delphi, there was a prophetic edge to Jane's assessment of the characters of others - as if she held up a mirror into the souls of those around her, revealing inner motivations invisible even to them and weighed the content of their character for what truly held value.

She would never even recognize her role as thus but those she proved as lacking would feel it keenly and avoid her in order to maintain their own self-delusions. Those who continued to seek her out and maintained the connection were those who could bear to be daily reminded of how much they had to strive for, to grow in, to become in other to be worthy of the high opinion she already held them in.

She had declared Captain Hayward as a man worth knowing and Darcy would be a fool not to believe her assessment implicitly. He knew how much he was indebted to this man he had never met before. Darcy had to admit he was somehow disappointed to discover the man he had so elevated was, in fact, just a man.

Captain Hayward, in a brusque, curt manner which would have been despised in any drawing room, but which Darcy found rather refreshing, began to question Darcy. He did not come with the same basket of grievances that Mr. Jones had come with, but with the sensible, well-informed reservations of a man well-acquainted with the best…and worst… of the gentry.

"Mr. Darcy, you must understand our surprise when we received news of your engagement…" Captain Hayward had predictably begun. "My wife, well, she wants to be absolutely certain that you have not forced Jane's acceptance in anyway and there has been no compromise that is compelling this union."

Darcy started in surprise and sputtered in protest. "I assure you this is not the case! Have you spoken with Miss Bennet?"

"We have, but, well, it is not in her nature to make such disclosures. Her sister, well, she is concerned. She cannot fathom why you would choose to wed Jane without having some unfortunate circumstance make you feel honor-bound to offer. Thus, I am here to ensure this is not the case, and if it is, to convince you to break the engagement. We will not permit Jane to trap herself in a marriage purely out of duty or a fear of scandal."

Darcy exhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead. "I assure you, Captain Hayward, this is not the case. I offered for Miss Bennet because I see her as the most excellent of women and we are deeply attached to each other."

It took a considerable length of time and many more explanations to gain the begrudging approval of Captain Hayward… and far longer to earn the man's good favor. Yet, this was nothing compared to the challenge Mrs. Hayward presented.

While Captain Hayward questioned Darcy, on the other side of London, Jane Bennet received a similar treatment from her recently arrived sister and had to work just as tirelessly to prove her acceptance of Darcy's proposal.

"Mr. Darcy! Why ever did you agree? He is so very proud and disagreeable!" Lizzy cried out as she took her sister's hand in her own and beckoned her to sit on the bed in the guest room of the house on Gracechurch Street.

"He is not so very proud, simply reserved. Once he feels comfortable, he is quite amiable, I assure you. He is much like myself, in that way. He rarely shows his true feelings or opinions to others, unless he is at ease in their company," Jane replied a fond smile playing on her lips.

"But his interference with Mr. Bingley…"

"He has apologized for profusely and admitted to his error. Lizzy, he is not a man to be easily dismissed… no, do not give me such a look… I am not referring tohis fortune nor his position. You know he is an honorable man who is held in high respect from all who know him. It is an honor and a testament to his character that he seeks one in such a position as myself for his wife. You know many in similar circumstances would be more than content to acquire me as a mistress rather than face the disapprobation of society for wishing to marry so far outside of their natural sphere."

Lizzy snorted. "Not to mention to the admirable good sense I must attribute to him for such a brilliant choice in a wife."

"Oh, Lizzy."

"Well, we know he does not wish to marry you for your dowry or connections. Why, then, is he so interested in such a connection?"

"Do you think so meanly of my other attributes?" Jane asked with a wry smile.

"Oh, no, but Mr. Darcy does not strike me as the sort who would pursue you only for your more obvious attractions. After all, he was more than willing to leave you to Bingley's pursuit before…though this does have the air of a positively delicious scandal all round it – to think he was secretly in love with you the whole time and that was why he chased Bingley away!"

"Oh, Lizzy, you know that is not the way of it! He is a rational man and he declares this a long-considered decision based on what he knows of my character and his own. We are of similar minds and temperaments and our desires for our partners quite compatible. His character strengthens mine and his companionship is more fulfilling than of any man I have ever met. No, Lizzy, I could not do better."

"I cannot abide it, Jane! This will not do at all! I declared so earnestly that I would despise Mr. Darcy until the day that I died and no sister of mine would be reduced to wedding from the gentry. Now, you are forcing me to not only accept a gentleman as a brother-in-law, but the very man I was determined to blame all our hardship on. How can I despise him if he is to be my brother?"

"Oh, Lizzy, you know that is not sound and you ought to have forgiven him years ago! So much of what you disliked about him was due to Mr. Wickham's slander… and we can hardly believe any allegations such a man would create."

"Too true," Lizzy said with an exaggerated sigh. "And, Mr. Darcy is conveniently wealthy and even more conveniently handsome, so I suppose I must forgive him and maybe even learn to like him. He may be proud and taciturn, but I may just prefer his version of pride to our cousin's and his reluctance to speak over an overabundance of words.

"I will also admit I am very well-pleased at the thought of you settled as mistress of a grand estate rather than employed as a companion to such an estate. No, my dear Jane, you could do far, far worse for yourself and I will not chide you too harshly for your choice, even if it is so different from what I would have chosen for you. If Mr. Darcy treats you as he ought, I might just declare him the very best of men and maybe, possibly, after a few decades of drowning you in diamonds and rubies, I might just declare him worthy of the best woman I know. I could not bear to part with you to anyone less worthy."

Jane laughed and moved to embrace her sister.

"I am glad you have come, Lizzy. I only wish Mama and Mary could be here."

"As do I. Mary sends all her best wishes and young Oliver is positively green with envy that any other man would steal you away from him. After all, who will play soldiers with him if you do not come to Falmouth this summer?"

"Oh, dear Ollie! We must have him to Pemberley as soon as possible!" Jane cried. "Do you think Mama will ever be well enough to travel?"

Lizzy sighed and shook her head. "I do not know. Sometimes, she seems to be almost herself again and she comes down to the drawing room to make us all suffer for her nerves and chastise me yet again for refusing Mr. Collins. Other days, she cannot leave her room at all."

"Did Mary tell her?"

"Not yet. She is waiting for one of Mama's good days before she informs her. No doubt, Mama will be so pleased, you will hear her cries all the way from Pemberley. 'Ten thousand a year! Bless me! What carriages you will have! What jewels! What pin money!' Why, she might even finally forgive you the loss of Mr. Bingley, once she realizes that Mr. Darcy is far richer."

Jane laughed, though her laughter was mixed with tears. "I hope so. I do hope she is given some small comfort and pleasure, after all her sufferings."

"How did our dear cousin take the news?" Lizzy asked, emphasizing the 'dear' to such an extent that the term was turned into more of an insult.

Jane threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Charlotte said he was quite put out and declared we will never be welcome at Longbourn again – in honor of the memory of his beloved patroness, of course."

Lizzy snorted. "As if we would have ever been welcomed back to Longbourn in the first place. I do not believe Mr. Collins could bear such a scandal as our presence in his home!"

"Oh, he might have borne it for a day or two, if only to display to us the full measure of all we had lost, chastise us for our fallenness, and then lecture us incessantly over the proper obeisance due to him as our highest-ranking male relative," Jane said.

Lizzy looked at her sister with her eyes wide and then she burst into laughter. "Why, Jane, I do believe that is the most unforgiving speech I have ever heard from your lips! Bravo!"

Jane sighed and looked abashed. "Forgive me, I ought not to have said it… but, you were not there, when he came to Longbourn that time… Oh, it was terrible."

"Mary told me you feigned a swoon simply to make him stop talking."

"I could not bear it! The way he spoke of Lydia… Oh, no one should speak so ill of the dead! And in front of Mama, too! It was more than could be borne! If Charlotte had not invited me to Rosings when he came next, I do not think I could have managed."

Lizzy placed a hand on Jane's arm, her own eyes wet with tears. "Mary told me… though, I wish you had spoken more forthrightly, then. I could tell you were upset, but you did not tell me all. I would have figured out something – some other way…"

"No, Lizzy. We did not know how unbearable Mr. Collins would be until it was too late to come up with an excuse to remove ourselves from Longbourn when he came. Even if we had known, I could not leave Mary to endure all alone, that time, at least, not until Mama was a bit better. No, that next time, we knew how to prepare ourselves. With me at Rosings, and Mary claiming she was needed upstairs with Mama most of the time, well, we managed better."

"Poor Charlotte. Aunt Phillips says she manages Longbourn admirably, but the harvest was so poor last year. I hope… well, we are all clever enough to find a way to visit with Charlotte again, even if not at Longbourn."

"I am sure of it. After all, I am quite indebted to her for inviting me to Rosings in the first place, for it was there I first began to appreciate Mr. Darcy."

Lizzy laughed. "I cannot fathom it. Why, six weeks at Rosings was enough for me to never wish to see Mr. Darcy again and here it inspired you to marry the man!"

"Oh, that is hardly the same!" Jane cried out, laughing along with her sister.

"I suppose not… I will say, I do not regret the addition of Colonel Fitzwilliam into the family. We will be gaining a much more amiable cousin than poor Mr. Darcy. How have Mr. Darcy's relations accepted the news?"

"In truth, the Earl and his wife are so consumed with the viscount's indiscretions and estrangement from his wife and the scandals of their daughter that they have little motivation to decry Darcy for his choice in wife. They have been all that is kind and welcoming and I will be happy to call them family."

"It is a pity Lady Catherine did not live long enough to see the day when her beloved nephew would make such an alliance! I can hear her shaking her fist at you from her grave and decrying the pollution to her family line," Lizzy said, one eyebrow arched.

"Oh, Lizzy, do not speak so!" Jane cried.

Lizzy smiled. "I dare not."

In truth, Darcy's family raised very few objections to the match and did all in their power to promote their welcome into Society. As he predicted, it was Colonel Fitzwilliam who gained the greatest delight in the news. It was a genuine joy when Darcy was able to introduce his cousin to his betrothed and see their quick and easy acceptance of each other.

"Good God, man – is that the 'fortune hunter' you separated Bingley from, all those years ago?" Colonel Fitzwilliam proclaimed, once they were alone together. "I know any number of men who would gladly give a king's ransom for such a comely 'fortune hunter' to invite into their marriage bed. Tell me, is her character so despicable as to cancel out her other charms so completely?"

Darcy frowned even deeper and he shook his head. "Do you believe I would wed a woman without an admirable character?"

"I see. So, you did yourself a favor when you 'saved' Bingley from an 'imprudent match,'" Fitzwilliam remarked wryly.

"That is not exactly how it happened, though that would be the end result."

"Oh no, that is exactly how it has happened. To allow Bingley to wed the woman meant only for you would have been the height of imprudence."

"I did not even notice her then."

Fitzwilliam's expression turned dubious. "You failed to notice- that woman? Paris, himself, would have forgotten Helen of Troy if Jane Bennet walked before him. You would hardly be a man not to notice such a woman."

At first Darcy bristled in jealousy and then irritation. Then he only smiled. "I suppose I was hardly a man then. Now, though, I am very much grown to be a man."

His response only encouraged Colonel Fitzwilliam's amusement. He began to laugh uproariously.

"Good God, man, what a merry pair of fools you and Bingley turned out to be! I expected you both to possess more sense than this! You come across a pair of sisters in possession of beauty, sense, and warm-hearts, both gently born and with impeccable manners - I defy St. Paul himself to maintain his vow of celibacy under such inducements - and what do you do? Flee as if a house were on fire and never look back. Were I but one of your party then, I will tell you exactly what I would have done!"

"I am sure your sense, too, would have been suspect for you would have been forced to choose between them," Darcy growled back in irritation.

"True," he said, turning thoughtful. "And I would happily receive such hardship upon myself!"

"Blasphemy aside, I accede to your point and merrily accept my idiocy. I am hardily repentant, however, and I seek to mend my ways through my marriage."

Fitzwilliam descended into raucous laughter and clapped his cousin on the shoulder. "I should say. You have all my best wishes. I cannot help but anticipate the gaggle of children that will soon run across Pemberley…. England can do nothing but wait in eager anticipation for the beauty such a match is sure to produce."

Darcy grinned – not only at the implication his cousin hinted at but at the thought of Jane with her arms full of children and her utter delight at presiding over such a household.

Not all of Darcy's relational connections responded with such open-hearted acceptance of the prospective match. There were a few who required more convincing. The moment Jane accepted, Darcy informed Bingley of his good news. Bingley's joy at the news was all that Darcy could have hoped for from his closest companion. True to his word, Bingley took it upon himself to warn his sister of the upcoming announcement and try to ameliorate the worst of her tempers in private.

The explosion of horror and fury in response was of such an unruly decibel that passersby on the street heard the initial eruption and wondered at what tragedy had befallen the Evensworth home. The household allowed Lady Evensworth mutter and shout for some time before she had calmed herself enough to note the eyes of all upon her. Her husband, her brother, her sister, and the Hursts all watched her in half-amusement, half wary caution, until she finally collapsed on a chair.

"My dear, calm yourself," Sir Andrew said, wryly. "Such a display cannot be good for the baby."

At this she began to curse and splutter again, as he had known she would, and he fought back his chuckle.

"Why, Caroline, should I be jealous? I do not believe you have ever flown into such a temper for my attentions," her husband remarked, once she was quiet again.

"Of course not. You are far superior to Mr. Darcy in every way," she answered, though a bit spitefully. "I am only upset on behalf of my brother's dearest friend. He has been duped into an improper engagement and it is unseemly to accept such an engagement without feeling the injustice of it all."

"Be cautious, Caroline," pronounced Mrs. Bingley from across the room, where she had kept a wary distance. "As your brother's closest companion, do not do anything that would cause a breach between them. If Mr. Darcy chooses to court a milk maid or a courtier or a courtesan, it is not our concern. At the end of it all, she will be Mrs. Darcy, regardless of her origins."

"But she is entirely unsuitable to him!" Caroline protested.

"When Miss Bennet is clothed according to her new station, she will not be an acquaintance to be ashamed of," Mrs. Bingley continued. "Her manners are what they ought to be and she carries herself well. Around Yorkshire and Derbyshire, especially, the name of Darcy will carry more weight than the scandal of her family and she will easily be accepted. Around London, it will be more difficult, but if we introduce her slowly to the right people, she will at least have the support of those matrons already skilled at overcoming scandal and navigating the lower echelons of Society. She will never be fully accepted by the First Circles, but then again, whom among us will be?"

"And that is your opinion?" Caroline asked in obvious surprise.

"Of course."

"But… Charles… nearly married her!"

"Yet he did not. Caroline, do you truly believe she will have cause to repine one Charles Bingley once she is wed to Fitzwilliam Darcy? No intelligent woman would repine such an exchange."

"I am not sure such a response is flattering to me," Bingley muttered to himself. His wife ignored him and kept speaking.

"I cannot claim to understand Mr. Darcy's decisions or preferences but he has always been a man who keeps his own council. Yet, his station is such that he will feel very little censure for his choice in wife and there are few who could cut such a man without consequences. It is Mrs. Darcy who will feel the scorn of society for marrying above her station. I am simply informing you of what must be done if she is to be accepted as an asset and not a liability into our society and how we can best aid her introduction to Society as Mrs. Darcy."

Sir Andrew and Bingley exchanged bemused expressions and then Sir Andrew approached his wife, tentatively kneeling before her to take her hands in his.

"Caroline, you can choose to refuse Miss Bennet from your company and separate us all from the companionship of Mr. Darcy…. Or, you can welcome her into our society, ease her way, and ensure she has a place to belong. Then, when the Ton proves inhospitable to her, as you know they will be, at least at first, the mistress of Pemberly will grace our humble society as the place she belongs."

"But her family…"

"Is not so very different from yours, my dear," her husband gently pressed.

"But the scandal! Her youngest sister was ruined!"

At this, all eyes in the room fell upon Lady Evensworth again and no one spoke, though the tension in the room felt akin to growing steam in a hot house.

"As I said, her family is not so different from yours, save for the benevolence of your brother," her husband said again, dropping his voice so low that it was meant for only her to hear. At Caroline's gasp, he pressed her hands in his and raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. "Caro, you have a choice – you can perpetually seek acceptance into the highest of circles - the circles which you know will never accept you, or you can form your own circles and be the one to define them according to your own wishes and whims. Who do you wish to surround yourself with? Wealth is too simple a tool to use to exclude others. It is cold and hard and unfeeling. Fashion, too, proves a poor substitute for character and pleasant companionship. What constitutes the very best of companions? Be mistress of your own circumstances, Caro. Create such a society that others are envious, but for more admirable reasons than rank and title."

Lady Evensworth did not break eye contact with her husband for the entirety of his speech. Then, she remained silent for so long after that the rest of the members of the room shifted uncomfortably, wondering if they ought to have left the pair alone or if they should speak and remind them of their presence. Finally, Lady Evensworth blinked rapidly and nodded.

"You are right, Andrew. I have spent my entire life seeking acceptance by those who will only treat me with thinly veiled disdain. If I cast off Jane Bennet, I will not gain their approval and I will most surely lose Mr. Darcy's. It is worth keeping the invitation to Pemberley."

Sir Andrew scoffed. "The man is worth more than his estate. His is a loyal, true friend to our family. That, more than anything, means we ought to support him. He stood by your brother at his wedding and your brother will stand by him for his. In this, Caroline, you need to support your brother."

"Fine, but I still do not think she is worthy of him. He could have done better."

Sir Andrew threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, no doubt, no doubt. However, as I already claimed the greatest jewel in the country, he must be satisfied with second best."

She tapped her fan against his shoulder in punishment and she arched an eyebrow. "You wish to carry your point with blatant flattery, my dear?"

"It depends – is it working?" He said and pulled her hand so he could intertwine his fingers in hers. She huffed in exasperation but her expression softened and she smiled.

"You know it always does."

Thus, when the time came that Miss Bennet was in company with her old acquaintances, she was surprised by their easy acceptance and pretense of long-standing friendship. While theirs was a connection which would never be called intimate and could never grow past the most surface-level politeness, Lady Evensworth, Mrs. Hurst, and Mrs. Bingley did all in their power to include Miss Bennet in their society and speak well of her to their acquaintances. She was frequently extended invitations and treated with the same deference as they granted Mr. Darcy.

"Lady Evensworth wished for the best for her family. I cannot hold that against her," Jane said to Darcy, after their first dinner party together. "And she admired you. She was sensible enough to recognize the danger you were in while at Netherfield, and she was quite right in her jealousy. Afterall, she worked so hard to gain your good opinion and she could see how easily she could lose to another woman. I cannot hold it against her. Why, I cannot fathom a woman who would not hold you in esteem and wish to gain your favor."

"And such a response is so like you, dear, sweet Jane. You believe she valued me as a man. I believe she only ever valued me as the master of Pemberley," Darcy responded.

"Oh, I cannot believe that! No! You were in such frequent company with her brother and she has always been so close to him! It is only natural she wished to promote her brother's happiness, and yours, with such a connection. And, after all, what woman could be in company with you as frequently as she was without admiring you?"

"And that, my dear, is why I choose to wed you," Darcy said, a half-smile toying at the corners of his lips as he ran a finger along her hand.

She let out a huff of exasperation and shook her head. "You are teasing me."

"No, I am admiring you. After all, what man could be in your company as frequently as I am without finding himself entirely overcome in admiration?"

Jane smiled at him, her eyes dancing with the warmest of affection. Then, she looked away and he could tell she was considering Lady Evensworth again.

"I do not pretend to wish to include Lady Evensworth amongst my closest acquaintances, but neither will I speak ill of her," Jane declared, as if making up her mind about something of great import.

As Darcy expected, Jane easily forgave Bingley's sisters for their former mistreatment of herself and willingly extended her own hand in friendship to them again. However, it was a tentative, guarded extension – one which tasted the bit of falseness in their offerings. She knew they accepted her out of reverence to her betrothed and not due to the value of her own friendship. The very sincerity and unabashed genuineness of Jane Bennet's manner, the artless way which she extended her friendship was enough to both deepen and repel further relationship with the trio. They could be amiable, but they could never be close.

Thus, it was by the end of June of the year sixteen that Pemberley gained a mistress and Fitzwilliam Darcy gained a wife. The pair were quickly married in a quiet ceremony in London before removing to Pemberley for the summer.

Yet, all hopes for summer remained in vain.

Summer of the year sixteen proved itself to be a year unlike any that had come before. The sun refused to shine, the rain refused to stop, and terrible storms wrecked the countryside. Crops across the nation failed and for estates already surviving on surpluses from past years, the effects were devastating. Tenants could not make rent and left farms in droves, seeking other opportunities which did not exist. Laborers grew hungrier and hungrier and soon riots broke out across the country.

Some declared it was the very "end of the world" and that none could hope to survive it. The rising panic did little to help the situation but only made the morale of the masses sink further. The starving masses around the cities and villages proved ripe for the sweep of illnesses that followed and the troops that fell upon the riotous masses had very little compassion for their plights. It was the generosity of the gentry that kept much of the population from starving or freezing to death that year.

Thus, Jane Darcy found herself the mistress of a massive estate during the worst of all years in memory of that estate. For all the joy that the fledgling marriage presented, this joy was sobered by the days without sun and the weight of the plight of those beneath her care. It was challenging enough to preside over so many lives in the best of years and she came into the position during its very worst.

Pemberly had enough food stores saved from past years to survive it, but it would not be easy. Darcy would not expel his tenants or expect payment in anything but goods and labor. But there would be little profit that year and anything extra would need to be held onto in hopes the next year the harvest would come.

Around Pemberley, bread and stew were dispensed to neighboring towns, supporting the merchants and tenants alike. Coal was purchased to help the population survive the coming winter. Even that was hardly enough as the migrating hordes of starving workers from neighboring towns wandered through, each trying to find means to survive. The more they increased the food distribution, the more it disappeared into the bellies of starving souls.

"I cannot fathom planning a ball, not with so much uncertainty and suffering," Jane cried, after Lady Evensworth complained again that she had yet to "do her duty" to her neighborhood. "How can I think of such when there are so many people starving just in Lambton?"

They hosted a few family parties that year, but Jane refused to hold any grand events. Lady Evensworth could not understand it, but Sir Andrew, Bingley, and Colonel Fitzwilliam could. The loss of profit two years in a row was nearly debilitating and they would have to postpone improvements on their estates yet another year, in hopes the next would be better.

"In truth, Darce, I took as much money as I had left and invested as much as I could into my father's old business again," Bingley admitted. "I do not believe we would manage, otherwise. I have not informed Caroline or Victoria because I know they would not approve, but how else can I afford to keep our estate afloat?"

Despite the challenges, Jane filled her role as mistress of Pemberley exactly as Darcy had imagined, even during the most unstable and difficult of circumstances. She attended to the needs of all she met and no tenant wanted for coal or care that long winter that followed. She spent all her spare time making blankets and clothes and tending to those in need.

"It hardly seems fair. All those starving people while our table remains full," she remarked, one evening by the fire, her hands busy with knitting needles and the familiar work basket at her feet.

"You cannot feed every hungry mouth you come across, dear Jane. Even if you wish it."

"I know…it is only… we have so much. Perhaps, if we made simpler meals, we could have more to give to those that are hungry."

"Would that please you?"

"It would."

Darcy leaned over to kiss his wife, an affectionate, tender caress. "Most wives wish for gifts of jewels and gold. My wife wishes for more alms for the poor."

Jane blushed and batted him away. "You tease me. It is not humorous. All those poor people…"

"Oh, Jane. I could not mock you for your tender heart. I will never understand how one heart can be so overly ambitious as to try to hold the entire world within its folds. Sometimes, I fear it will burst with the effort."

She did not answer but she reached out to squeeze his hand with her own.

"You are the very best of men, Fitzwilliam. One I am exceedingly proud of," she said.

And at that moment, Darcy's chest swelled and he felt as if he could be the king himself.

He had thought he loved his wife, the day he married her, but every day since his admiration had only grown until he thought he could burst under the weight of it.

He slowly understood what Lord Gallahad had meant, when he pitied Darcy for his enthrallment for his wife. After first learning the news of Darcy's engagement, his friend had called upon him, clicking his tongue in pity. "Poor fool. Well, I only hope you can survive it," he had said.

Now, Darcy's dependence on and devotion to his wife had grown to be nearly all-encompassing and the thought that something might happen to her made him nearly mad with fear. How could one person own so much of his thoughts, attentions, dreams, and desires? Yet, Jane Darcy was unmistakably mistress of both Pemberley and its master.

Darcy glanced over at his wife, delighting in the play of firelight over her features, the affection in her eyes, and the way she hummed quietly to herself as she worked.

"You know, dear Jane, I heard it again. Society says I married you for your beauty and you married me for my wealth. Poor fools. They do not realize that it is I who gained the wealth through our alliance."

"Does it follow that it was I who married you for your beauty?"

"I must not praise myself," he answered, reaching out to play with a lock of hair that had come loose from her cap.

"Then I must. Indeed, I find you more handsome than all the grounds and fine rooms of Pemberley. Thus, I must have married you for your beauty. There, how is that for pretty words?" She answered, a smile playing across her features.

"Ah, a man wishes to know he is more handsome than piles of rocks and dirt and windows."

She burst into a peel of laughter until tears gathered at her eyes. She reached over and took his hand in hers and he felt the warmth of her skin against his. "You are far more handsome than all the windows of Pemberley and Rosings and Longbourn put together."

"High praise, indeed! What more can a man ask for?"

"Heirs enough to break all the windows of this fine estate with their pebbles and rocks and to upend every pile of dirt they might come across," she said.

He sighed deeply and allowed her to guide his hand to feel the gentle nudge from within her womb.

"I hope we have enough to break every single window," he responded fondly. The familiar mixture of joy and fear boiling in his chest at the prospect of the upcoming addition to their family.

"As do I, Will," she said, her eyes shining.

"You have made me the richest man in existence," he whispered and leaned in to kiss her as deeply as she would permit, until she forgot all about her knitting and allowed her needles to fall upon the carpet.

Despite what many claimed, the world did not end that year, nor the year after, and despite the many days of rain, the sun eventually did decide to shine again. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley eventually hosted their first ball and even made a trip or two to London for a Season. Yet, both agreed they would much rather have remained at home, for all the excitement and diversion of London provided.

Those who did not know them well remarked what a handsome couple they were and yet they were proclaimed as universally dull.

"Why, they hardly ever attend the London season or host balls," Society declared. "And those they choose to surround themselves with! They are not those we would wish to congregate with! When they are in Society, they are so very quiet."

Yet, those who knew them well, they knew what occurred within the walls of Pemberley and how the marriage of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Jane Bennet was anything but dull. It just so happened that it was their own and not to be shared with the masses – just as their thoughts and words and true opinions were rarely shared outside of their own innermost acquaintances.

Over time, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy created their own circle of friendships. Captain Hayward and his wife were perhaps their favorite but there were frequent visits with the Gardeners and Fitzwilliams. While Kitty and her husband could not spare the time to visit Pemberley often, they visited the Darcy House frequently whenever they were in London.

In London, the Darcys found they both preferred the eclectic company of the Foundling Hospital friendships over the more predictable, rote relationships of the Ton. With time, even Mr. Jones learned to forgive Mr. Darcy for the unfortunate circumstances of his birth and tentatively form a friendship. They continued to assist the Hospital as much as they could and it was with others who shared their same passion that they found the greatest solidarity of mind and purpose.

It was not everyone that could accept Mr. and Mrs. Darcy or declare them as tolerable company. Afterall, Darcy cared little about the opinions of others and so did not try to court them and for all that Jane encouraged him to try and exert himself more, he found there was certain society he would rather not pursue and any who slighted his wife he would not tolerate at all.

While they made the requisite appearances at balls and dinners during the Season, they much preferred the quieter, smaller events with the people they truly enjoyed. It was within the sanctity of their own home and their own family circle that they were the most vibrant, the most alive, and the most content. They created their own little secret haven, one which very few could fully understand.

It was early into their marriage that Darcy insisted Jane play for him on the pianoforte.

"Oh, Will, you know what a poor performer I am! I could not possibly!"

"Not even to please me?"

"How could such a performance please you? I am truly awful!" She protested.

He kissed her soundly and pleaded so much, she reluctantly agreed, but only on condition that no one else would be present to hear.

"You are more worried about the opinion of our servants than your husband?" He asked in amusement.

"What do I have to hide from you now? You are flesh of my flesh and there is nothing that is mine that is not yours. If playing brings you pleasure, how can I refuse? If you wish to mock my poor playing, I will grant you the honor, but only because I know you do so out of affection."

Thus, Darcy sent all the servants away and he hid away in the music room with his wife. He enjoyed the afternoon so much that they made it a ritual. Once each week, for an hour or two, they withdrew into the isolation of the music room together. Sometimes, Jane practiced on the piano. Sometimes, well, she did not. Sometimes, Darcy brought out his violin and sometimes they both sang (very poorly) together. Yet, regardless of the quality of the performance or the occupation that filled those hours, those hidden moments were precious, all the more so for the secrecy and intimacy they formed there. Out of ear shot, out of sight, hidden in a world of their own.

"You will wear no cravat and I will wear no cap and we will simply be," she insisted, setting the rules for the music room, as it were.

"Only if you allow your hair to fall unpinned will I accept."

"Who am I to argue for such a request? You will have to assist me with the pins."

"Gladly," he whispered into her ear, tickling her neck and making her laugh.

He watched her play until she grew more tempting than he could bear and he sought to see how many times in a song he could cause her fingers to stumble. Sometimes, he listened to her sing. This was something he discovered, once she was integrated into his home and life, and once she no longer wore a mask in his presence. She sang constantly to herself, hummed under her breath as she worked, and he could oftentimes distinguish her location purely from listening for her songs. It cut through the silence of the grand house, filled its halls with as much cheery warmth as the baskets of children's toys and her chaotic work basket.

Perhaps, she could have learned to play better, without Darcy's assistance, but he would not have exchanged her poor playing for all the masters in the world for the intimacy of their shared moments. More often than not, they remained in the room long after the music had ceased. Soon, it was not only the pair of them that hid away together but a third joined in their hideaways… then a fourth… and a fifth, though, occasionally, they ensured to occasionally reduce their numbers back to two again so they could steal a few moments alone without interruption.

It was with a nearly overwhelming contentment that Fitzwilliam Darcy returned to Pemberly from a visit to London to come upon his wife in a chair by the fire. She sang quietly in a sweet voice, slightly off-key but full of adoration, and she rocked a golden-haired child at her breast, the babe nearly asleep with a thumb in her mouth and her cheek flushed against her mother's chest. The swell beneath the babe hinted at the joyous addition soon to grace Pemberly's halls and gardens at any time.

At his slight motion, Jane's voice faltered and her eyes flickered up to meet the figure watching her from the door. Her entire face broke into a brilliant, unreserved smile and she extended a hand to him.

"There you are!" she whispered. "We missed you. Come, tell me all about your trip."

He clasped her hand in his and sat on the seat beside her. He ran his other hand through the soft curls of the babe before him before moving to brush a hand over his wife's cheek.

"It went well, though nothing is as sweet as returning home to you."

"I wish I could have accompanied you," she said. "Though, I am glad I remained. The pains grew so that I thought I would enter my confinement twice while you were away."

"I am excessively grateful our babe delayed until my return," he said. "Lizzy and John will come the day after tomorrow. She could not miss the charity ball tomorrow night and I hardly escaped attending. She made sure to command you not to enter your confinement until she arrives."

Jane laughed. "I am surprised you got away at all. Lizzy can be quite determined."

"She is a force of will, to be sure," he said. "I only saw her a handful of times these last few weeks and still she left me entirely exhausted. I cannot keep track of how many societies she is apart of or all the charities she supports."

"Oh, it is far more than I can count," Jane answered with a fond smile.

"London agrees with her, I think," he said. "Far more so than it does us."

"I do believe it does. The noise, the busyness, the overall liveliness of the place suits her temperament well. She can surround herself with clever people and keep herself very active. She misses her country walks, but I believe she is happy with the exchange."

After touring the world from the deck of a ship, Elizabeth Hayward had experienced a freedom from the restrictions of Society which emboldened her to champion all the causes she felt strongly for. Soon, she spoke on behalf of the causes of abolition, the treatment of those in the colonies, the affairs of women and children at home, and so many more than Darcy could keep track of. Each, she addressed with the same contagious passion and eloquent wit. She organized others around her causes and was more than willing to breach the confines of propriety to gain support. She attacked London in a whirlwind – making calls here, arranging dinners, leaving cards there, writing letters between it all, and Darcy hardly saw her sit for two minutes at a time.

"How do you manage that one?" Mr. Darcy asked her husband over brandies one night.

"I do not," Captain Hayward responded. "I am a wise enough man that I learned early on that I am the one who is managed."

Darcy snorted. "I can see that."

Captain Hayward shrugged. "I have spent enough years at sea commanding brutes and idiots to behave in a manner amenable with their own survival. I have no wish to captain any more vessels, even one so worthy as our home. I retired and left Lizzy in charge of it all. It suits her. Idleness leads to mischief and discontent and if my wife is unhappy, there will be little peace for me. I encourage her to keep herself as busy as she can and that pleases her, which in turn, pleases me. Let her arrange all London in a manner that suits her and woe to any in parliament that stand in the way of her causes."

"You are no great champion for social reform yourself, sir?"

"Aye, in my own ways, I suppose. I am the wind in her sails that helps her propel forward. You cannot see me, but where she goes, over the waves and away from port. I will attend, when I must, but I am no great favorite in Society. I lack the charm and manners which would assist her in her cause. No, it is better I support her where she wishes and only make appearances when she tells me I must."

Whenever he came to London, Elizabeth Hayward had no shortage of invitations for her brother-in-law and she insisted he attend far more events than he really wished to. As much as he admired and respected his sister-in-law, Darcy was far more content to return home to the quiet of his own home and wife. The very peaceful serenity of his wife was a greater balm than anything else he had ever known.

When the Haywards visited Pemberley, Darcy enjoyed their company and he grew to have a genuine appreciation for his relatives. However, they could not be more different if they tried.

"I could not bear being caged to an estate," Lizzy proclaimed to her sister, after her first visit, "even one so pretty as this. You cannot ever be free. Everything you do and are revolves around the estate, the land, the family. You cannot decide that next year you will up and move to Canada or next you will sail around Bermuda and back again. Now that I have been freed, I do not think I would ever wish for anything else."

"I am glad you are happy, Lizzy," Jane said.

"And you, dear Jane, are you suited to this life?"

"I am. I find it suits me quite well, or, I should say, my husband suits me well enough to make me quite content."

For two shy, reserved spirits, each hesitant to perform for strangers or reveal the depth of their feelings to any but the most sacred of souls, they easily found a kindred spirit in the other. Each permitted their natural reserve to melt away and the depth of their passions to overflow, inviting the other to ever-greater freedom of expression.

Darcy's resolution of decision and knowledge of the world was such that he could ground Jane's sweetness of temper and desire to please. He could prevent unsavory characters from taking advantage of her nature and maintain firmness of decision in the face of pleas for undeserved assistance. Her sweetness of temper was such as to make him reevaluate his easily lost good opinions and his suspicions of the intent of all around him. He was made wiling to seek the goodness of those who he would normally have doubted and seek out relationships he would normally have avoided. In a similar manner, he was encouraged to a greater charity and generosity than was his wont, both generosity of manner and resources – through his wife's influence. Their home was opened to a great many more social gatherings than he would have previously been willing to host. Yet, the presence of his wife at his side could not help but put him at ease and her manner helped bring out a willingness to seek the favor of others. A simple glance and a touch on his arm reminded him to be more mindful of how his actions impacted those around him and there were many who praised the improvement in manners they experienced in Fitzwilliam Darcy after his marriage. She softened him and he strengthened her and so they made an admirable match that one no one could deny lacked affection.

The portrait of Jane Darcy was added to the gallery at Pemberley in the years that followed. First, her alone and then a beautiful painting of her with all her children. Darcy often admired those paintings and thought how well suited her image was, preserved for generations to come alongside all his ancestors.

Would any future generations remember her lack of fortune or the improprieties of her family at a ball? Most likely not. They would, however, see how her eyes were now passed on to future generations of heirs of Pemberly. They would remember her quiet stories, still spoken of by her great grandchildren to the point where they were convinced their grandmother's version of Romeo and Juliet was the correct one and Shakespeare had it all wrong. Her influence was felt in the generations of literate children taught at the village school she founded and the throngs of foundlings who were supported to adulthood through her patronage. Future generations of Lambton spoke fondly of the grand mistress of Pemberly and how a lovelier, kinder woman was never known before or after.

His father had impressed on him, from the very earliest of his youth, that it was his duty and obligation to establish his family, his estate, and grow into the kind of man that would be remembered for the good he had done. In his marriage to his wife, he had chosen a woman who had helped him accomplish this and had made him into a better man.

The years of their life together were filled with both laughter and tears. True to his prediction, those tears were a kind of draft, a mystical potion, which could not help but increase his strength and lift his spirits, and alleviate his grief during the hardest of times. He never managed to catch them in a bottle or keep them in a chain around his neck. There was no need. The source remained with him and her wellspring was continually full. There was no shortage of tears – both of unmitigated joy and heart wrenching sorrow. Yet, her tears belonged solely to him, as did that smile that lit up her eyes and made the gold flecks dance and sparkle. He would keep them both, hide them away in the vault of his heart, for he knew they were part of his greatest treasure.

~Finis~