Chapter 15: Of compromises and Disappointed Hopes
"Am I to stay in suspense forever?"
Caroline's nose was bandaged, which made her voice sound nasal. Mr. Darcy came into the room after the colonel, and Miss Elizabeth walked behind him.
"What is she doing here? I hope she came to apologize."
"Caroline, shut it," Mr. Bingley reprimanded her. "Darcy, go ahead."
Mr. Darcy paced and took deep breaths. "When I met Mr. Bingley, I remember wondering how can a person be so chirpy and happy all the time? I was sure his mien was fake. I was sure I would see it crack eventually. It never did. He is the most congenial man I have met. I cannot for the life of me understand how you two are possibly related."
Silence. It was a very well-delivered indirect insult.
"Since your outburst… I have been thinking back on our whole acquaintance. There has never been a day where you have not tried to insinuate your presence into my life. I have thought long and hard about whether I have ever done anything to make you think I could ever be interested in you as anything more than Bingley's sister. I have been respectful and distant to you. I have been equally respectful and distant to Mrs. Hurst. At least, I have endeavored to do so."
"You have been completely proper, sir," Mrs. Hurst nodded.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hurst. Miss Bingley… You have deemed it acceptable to try to manipulate my younger sister to get information on me."
"I-"
"Caroline, this is not a conversation. You are to hear what he has to say, not respond to it or try to defend your actions, which are indefensible," Mr. Bingley exclaimed.
Caroline's hands on her lap turned into tight fists, and she shut up.
"Georgiana was not ever trying to be your friend… All she did was be a proper hostess as was expected of her."
"Georgie has a very small circle of friends, and that is the way Darcy and I want it. We have personally vetted everyone in close contact with her because we cannot afford to allow anyone to come close to her at will with nefarious or mercenary intentions."
"She has never been as angry or as determined as yesterday and I am proud of her for it because all she did was to protect me and our family name, not to mention Mrs. Reynolds. If you ever expect me to even acknowledge your existence again, I want you to apologize to Mrs. Reynolds, Richard, Gigi, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Mrs. Bennet. They did not deserve to get involved in this awful situation. What you were planning to do is in every way detestable. I have housed and fed you more than once. I have listened to you prattling on about the most inconsequential things. Miss Bingley, you do not have friends. It is not because women envy you. It is because they know you will stab them in the back if there is a chance to make yourself look like a more desirable choice before a wealthy gentleman. You would not even look at me if I made less money than your brother. Would you?"
Miss Bingley did not reply, but angry tears fell on her lap.
"I am single at my age because I have become an expert at avoiding compromise. Do you really think you would be the first to try? Certainly, the most daring to try to do it in my home," Mr. Darcy noticed that Caroline allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. "That is in no way a compliment. Daring and stupid. I am an honorable man. I would have found someone decent to marry you and removed the problem like that. When a woman chooses to be compromised out of malice and desperation, I cannot find it in my heart to feel sorry for her. I would have given Bingley the funds to ship you away… Even to the Americas, just as long as I never had to see your deceptive and two-faced self again."
Miss Elizabeth placed her hand on his lower back. He knew that meant that he was being very unkind. He took a deep breath. "Your decision to not apologize, if that is your choice, will cost you the Darcy family acknowledgment. Henceforth, we will act as if Bingley only has one sister. Miss Bingley? Do you mean Mrs. Hurst? I do not know a Miss Bingley. You must be mistaken, Miss Bingley died long ago."
"You would not!" Caroline exclaimed. She looked almost pitiful with her hand-shaped bruise and her bandaged nose.
"I will. I will deny ever knowing you. If I cannot deny it, I will tell the truth. We had to sever the acquaintance because Miss Bingley had plans to compromise me in my own home. You may want to be careful around her. She's a presumptuous woman with no scruples. Watch your sons and your husbands around her. Keep your daughters away from her influence."
"Charles!" she turned to her brother. He shook his head. She would find no support in him.
"How many mothers of the ton do you think I need to tell this story for all of the ton to know? How long until the few so-called friends you have pretend they never knew you? How long until the modistes decide they do not want to see their work on you?"
"But I did not do it!"
"Because you were discovered," the colonel piped. "How did you even think you were going to find Darcy's room? You have never been to the family wing."
"She was going to try a different room each night," Louisa said. Caroline gasped, "She told me so last night."
"Oh, I see. The plot thickens. So you could have compromised me?" the colonel exclaimed. "This is rich! I will be sure to tell the Earl of Matlock to beware of you, Miss Bingley. Rest assured, neither of us would have ever married you. Darcy men marry for love. Military men need a wife made of stronger stuff than you. We would have found you a farmer or a stable hand. Maybe, if you were lucky, an old widower."
Caroline sobbed into her hands.
Miss Elizabeth looked up at her beau. He nodded. She sighed, "You know the saddest part of all of this? We approached you with genuine interest. We would have been good friends to you if you had not seen fit to try and 'humble' us at every turn. I believe you could have friends, and that even a good man could be interested in you once you stop valuing people in mere material terms. If you made an effort to be a bit more yourself and less what you think people expect, perhaps you would already be married and have a family of your own. You have, I understand, a good dowry. You have made efforts to learn all the most feminine pursuits. Many men would see that and appreciate you for who you are rather than for who you pretend to be."
Caroline's face turned red, and she looked up at Miss Elizabeth with pure hatred. "How dare you even think that a country chit like you can give me advice?! And yes, I have a good dowry, which is more than you or any of your sisters can say!"
Miss Elizabeth took a step back and found herself against Mr. Darcy. He took her hand and interlaced their fingers. Miss Bingley's eyes opened wide in horror.
"Miss Bingley, any attempts at compromising me would have failed because I am to marry Miss Elizabeth. We are courting, and as soon as her father is doing better, and grants his consent, we will be married. It would not have mattered… whatever you did. It would not have changed anything. I love Miss Elizabeth, and I will not marry anyone else."
Miss Elizabeth felt her heart swell in her chest. She could not really speak, so she squeezed his hand.
"NO!" Caroline jumped from the armchair holding an up to this point hidden letter opener. "If I cannot be Mrs. Darcy, nobody else can!" She lunged at Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy pulled her and turned them so he could protect her body with his own. They heard a scream and turned. Richard had a sword pressed flat against Caroline's throat. His expression was terrifying. That was the colonel, not Richard.
"Do not make me change the angle of this blade, Miss Bingley. This is an expensive carpet, and blood takes forever to remove. I should know," the colonel's eyes were dark.
"Colonel, please do not hurt her!" Louisa exclaimed, terrified. She had never seen anyone move so quickly.
Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst rushed to grab Caroline and push her into the armchair. They forcefully removed the letter opener. This caused Bingley to cut his palm. He winced but did not complain.
Mr. Darcy let go of Miss Elizabeth slowly but kept their hands together.
"What you just tried to do proves to me that you are not right in the head. Bingley, I suggest you take her somewhere like Bethlem for an evaluation. Your aunt may not be safe with her in the house."
Mr. Bingley nodded, "I will. Caroline needs some serious help."
"She does," Mr. Hurst nodded back.
"Do not talk about me as if I am not here!" she struggled against their hold.
"You are not. Clearly, your common sense left you months ago. Miss Elizabeth, I am really sorry about this," Mr. Bingley said.
"I hope you can get her the help she needs."
"The carriage is ready, Bingley," Mr. Darcy said as a footman nodded to him.
"Come on, Caroline. We are leaving," Mr. Bingley pulled her up.
Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley dragged Caroline out. She kept pushing her feet into the ground. Before the meeting, Mrs. Reynolds asked the maids to remove any art or breakables from her path. Yet, she kicked, struggled, and screamed the whole way out.
"Let go of me!"
"No."
"You brutes!"
"Better to be a brute than to be insane," Mr. Hurst rolled his eyes.
"I am to be MRS. DARCY!"
"Absolutely not!" Mr. Bingley replied.
"I WILL BE HIS WIFE!"
"Miss Elizabeth will be his wife, Caroline. Give it up!"
"NO! He loves me! He has to love me! I will be baaaaack!"
That was the last they heard as she was thrown into the carriage. Mr. Bingley nodded at Hurst and decided to go on horseback. The Hursts had just told him they were expecting a child, and he did not want to have Louisa alone in case anything happened. The carriage took off.
Miss Elizabeth sat down.
"Are you well, dearest?"
"Yes… I just… I did not know she was so… affected," she sighed.
He took her hands, "Honestly, neither did I. I thought it was just infatuation… with my fortune. I do not think we have talked extensively ever."
"You did not want to raise her hopes."
"No, but I truly do not know where she got those hopes to begin with, Lizzie. I have always treated her with cold civility, no effusiveness, no special attentions, nothing like that."
Colonel Fitzwilliam walked briskly to the back of the house. He took deep, agitated breaths. He could have killed her. When he saw that letter opener, and she jumped toward Darcy, he saw flashes of battle. He felt his heartbeat on his head. Blood splatters, screams, shots being fired, horses galloping… Chaos. His hands started to shake. He hated these fits he got every now and then. On the battlefield, he had ample opportunity to release the tension. It was never this bad because while his men were his men, they were not family. The thought of Darcy getting stabbed had him spiraling. A hand touched his shoulder. He reacted and had the person in a chokehold in seconds.
"COLONEL FITZWILLIAM!" Miss Bennet exclaimed. "Unhand me!"
He let go immediately and jumped back, horrified at his own actions. Jane saw his terrified eyes and his shaking body and realized this was something else than what she feared. "I… I… I am so… so… sorry."
"Sir, what happened? Do you need me to get anything for you? Anyone?"
"N-No… I," he tried to take a deep breath, but he felt no air filling his lungs.
Jane rushed away. The colonel was almost glad to see her go. He preferred to have his fits in private. He continued to try to calm down with deep breathing, but it was not working.
"Colonel, follow me," Jane was carrying a deep basin that looked heavy. His mind was so far away that he did not even think of offering her help. He just followed her. As a soldier, even in his altered state, he responded well to commands. She placed the basin on a work table in the greenhouse.
"Give me your hands, sir."
"What?"
"Your hands," She placed hers palms up.
He placed his shaky ones on top.
"This will not be pleasant at first, but it will help."
"What?"
Miss Bennet pulled his hands by the wrists and pushed them into icy cold water. He gasped and looked at the ice chunks, surprised. She could have put his hand on an open flame. He had not even cared to look. He trusted her. That surprised and scared him a bit. He winced and made to pull back.
"No, colonel. It takes more time," her tone was so soft and calming.
"T-Time for what?"
"For your mind to focus on your freezing fingers and stop the panic you feel for other reasons."
"P-Panic?! I am a colonel with the army who has seen active duty for years."
"Yes, sir. I know," she smiled sweetly at him. "You are a panicked colonel. That is to be expected with all the horror I am sure you have seen. I heard the conversation with Caroline… At least the yelled parts. That did not sound fun."
"It was not," he realized that his head was no longer pounding. His mind was instead focused on the fact that Miss Bennet's hands were holding his, and they were soft, and their grip was gentle.
"What caused this, sir, if I may ask?"
"Miss Bingley was hiding a letter opener in her pocket. She lunged at Miss Elizabeth. Darcy pulled her against him and covered her with his body, but I thought she would even stab him, regardless of her supposed feelings… I just… I just reacted. Before I knew it, my sword -that I was wearing only because I had been sharpening it earlier- was flat against her throat."
Jane's eyes widened, "That must have been so hard for you."
The colonel blinked, shocked. "You are not going to condemn me?"
"What purpose would that serve?" She turned his hands in the water. "Correct me if I am wrong, but… You have never seen any family member of yours in such a danger of injury right before you, have you?"
"N-No…"
"Well, there you go... You were acting to protect your family from harm... Your breathing seems to be better."
He looked at her and lost himself in her beautiful, serene eyes. "Y-Yes."
"Can you feel your fingers?"
"No…"
"Good because I cannot feel my fingers either," she smiled and pulled his hands out. She offered him a small towel. He motioned for her to go first. She hastily patted her hands dry and stretched her fingers. He took the towel and did the same.
"Where did you learn this?"
"We hosted a friend of my father's years ago. He was a veteran. He said he was taught by a doctor interested in the mind that when he had what he called a nervous fit, he should do something to distract his mind and involve his senses."
"H-His senses?" he stared at her, puzzled.
"Yes, touch, smell, taste, sight…"
"I see…"
"You know… People have asked me how I stay so calm most of the time. I believe it has much to do with this," Miss Bennet pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and offered it to him.
He blinked, confused, but took it. "Touch?"
Jane chuckled, "No, sir. Smell… Smell it."
The colonel moved the piece of fabric slowly toward his nose. As soon as the smell reached his nostrils, his eyes shut, and he brought it closer. Bliss. Peace. Relaxation. Home… Home?! His eyes widened."What is this?"
"Lavender, bergamot, and chamomille," she smiled. "All together, they help to calm, reduce fear, and relax whoever smells or wears them."
The colonel had a flash of holding Miss Bennet and being hit by that same smell. The scene looked so real that his heart beat faster. "Do… Do you p-purchase this?"
"No, sir. I… I make my own pressing the flowers and using some of the rind."
"Oh…"
He sounded disappointed to her, she smiled, "I could make you a bottle if you want. It should help you when you feel panic and even to sleep better."
"I could not trouble you like that."
"It is no trouble. I am running low on mine anyway. I just asked Mr. Darcy for permission to pick the flowers I need. That is why I was coming here when you… first saw me."
The colonel saw the discarded herb basket. "Oh! I am so sorry… Miss Bennet, I was most aggressive. Are you well? Did I hurt you?"
Jane smiled a bit, "It would not have hurt except-" she pulled down a thin scarf she was wearing so that he could see the scratches covered in the balm.
"Miss Bennet! Good Lord! I am an animal. Please forgive me."
"I already did, sir. You were not yourself."
"Did anyone see us?"
"I do not think so. Do not worry, colonel. I would not accuse you of compromising me. You deserve to marry whoever you choose freely. After all, your life has been one of duty over desire. I respect that," she took the basket and moved toward the chamomille that had been brought in the day before.
The colonel went to the door and called for a maid. Once she was at the door, he approached Miss Bennet.
"Do you need any help?" he offered.
"Thank you, but as you can see, the chef gave me lavender, and I think this," she added a last bunch, "It is enough for two bottles. The process will take a few days, but you will have it. I promise."
"Th-Thank you," he offered her the handkerchief back. "Here."
"Keep it," she smiled. "At least until I give you your bottle. If you want the smell to last, fold it well and keep it in a pocket you do not use much. Have a good evening, colonel Fitzwilliam."
"You as well, Miss Bennet. Thank you… for everything."
Later that night, after a much livelier dinner with Mrs. Gardiner at the table, Colonel Fitzwilliam started to pay closer attention to Miss Bennet. He found her delightful. She was smart. She was kind. She was attentive. She was sweet. She was strong. She was resourceful. She was beautiful, of course. But above all that, she was a good person. He supposed he should be mortified that Miss Bennet saw his fit. But then he remembered how she treated him, how her hands were steady and firm but still soft and yielding. She never looked at him with pity or with disgust. There was only understanding and kindness in her eyes. His mother's voice rang in his head, "What a good prospect for a wife." He heard her so clearly that he choked on his dessert. Georgie clapped his back with an amused expression. Miss Bennet looked at him questioningly. He blushed but said nothing.
The colonel retired early. He undressed to take a bath and took out the handkerchief with the initials J.F.B. He would have to ask about the F. He inhaled the smell again… Jane Fitzwilliam… It sounded so well. He could feel his body responding to the scent. It felt as if the tension in his muscles was melting away. His face had a soft smile. He had to talk to Darcy. Perhaps, if he was lucky, there would be a way for him to marry Jane Bennet, even as a second son. He saw his father's scowl in his mind. He shook his head and placed the handkerchief under his pillow. He dreamt about an intrepid blonde horsewoman racing him around an unknown property while he tried to catch up to her all night long.
Mr. Darcy was in Mr. Bennet's room punctually at eight.
"Good evening."
Mr Bennet rolled his eyes, "And here I was hoping you had forgotten or that it was a fever dream."
"Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet chided. "Come in, Mr. Darcy. Should I come back in an hour?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Mr. Bennet was surprised to find that Mr. Darcy had a good idea for their first hour. He brought the newspaper and read the titles so Thomas could choose which articles he wanted Darcy to read. Thomas was loathe to admit that the man was an excellent reader and had a pleasing voice. By the time he was done, they only had to cover fifteen minutes of conversation.
"I imagine you are ready with questions for me."
"I am," Mr. Bennet agreed.
"Good. Ask away."
"Why are you trying so hard to thwart my efforts to find you disagreeable?"
The corners of Mr. Darcy's mouth lifted slightly. "I dislike animosity in families."
"We are not family."
"I am confident we will eventually be family."
"You see… That irks me."
"My confidence?" Mr. Darcy's eyebrows shot up.
"The presumption that leads to your confidence," Mr. Bennet replied in a frustrated tone.
Mr. Darcy smiled, "Does this look like presumption to you?"
Mr. Bennet looked at a wooden box questioningly. You do not expect me to open it, do you?"
Mr. Darcy opened the box to find a beautiful ring with a sizeable diamond and very ornate craftsmanship.
"An engagement ring?"
"It is not just any ring," Mr. Darcy turned the box to himself. His whole expression softened as he caressed the box.
"It must be very expensive," Mr. Bennet said.
"That is unimportant."
"Is it? You must be wealthier than people give you credit for," Mr. Bennet frowned.
I am, but that is beside the point, Darcy thought. "It is my mother's engagement ring. My father had it custom-made. He left space for future generations to add further details. I would like for it to be the ring Miss Elizabeth wears as my fiancé."
"Would she like to wear someone else's ring? That is the question."
"I want her to have it. It is a present. If she prefers a more modern style, I will commission one for her."
"You would give her two engagement rings?"
"Yes."
"Hmm."
"Mr. Bennet, I do not know if you made arrangements before you left Longbourne, but how would you like to continue managing the estate from here?"
"What?"
"That is to say… Do you have a steward? Would you like me to send him a letter with directions you dictate?"
"I do not have a steward. Jane, Lizzie, and Mary help me with the books."
Mr. Darcy kept his scathing opinion to himself: "Would you like me to send someone to help your tenants? Or perhaps to oversee what was happening and come give you a report?"
"Longbourne will not crumble without my presence for a few weeks."
Mr. Darcy took deep breaths. "I see. Perhaps I should be discussing this with your daughters, who help you manage your estate."
"No. It is as I say."
"It would be most unfortunate for your tenants to suffer because of unclear direction or lack of supervision."
"Mr. Darcy, Pemberley could have its own government due to its size. Longbourne is a very small estate. I do not supervise my tenants. They know what they are doing. Good work on their part is for their own benefit."
Mr. Darcy blinked, "How many tenants do you have?"
"Six or seven."
"You do not know?" Mr. Darcy was perplexed.
"One small cottage was available when I came but my staff was to show it to several people who were interested."
"I see. Would you like to dictate a letter regarding that?"
"No. I hate dictation. Write one, show it to me, and then we send it after I correct it."
Mr. Darcy bit the inside of his cheek not to react to that. He moved to the writing desk.
"What are you doing?"
"Writing your letter."
"Now?"
"Yes. I still have five minutes of the hour left."
"Hmm."
"Who should I address the letter to?"
"Mr. Hill."
Mr. Darcy sat and quickly wrote something like he thought Mr. Bennet would. Nothing too polite, very to the point. He finished writing and read out loud.
"Mr. Hill,
I am writing in Mr. Bennet's stead. He was in an accident while in my home and cannot write himself at the moment. He needs to know whether the available cottage has been occupied. He would also like to know if things are going well.
Best,
F. Darcy"
"Fine," Mr. Bennet sighed.
"I will send it express," Mr. Darcy offered.
"There is no need for that."
"Sir-"
"It will get there when it gets there. I am not concerned about that."
Mr. Darcy scoffed, "I am so glad my tenants never need to fear such blasé attitude from me."
"Beg your pardon?"
"Mr. Bennet, you are responsible for the well-being of 'six or seven' families who live in your lands. Their health, their finances, their very destiny could be markedly improved if you ever saw it fit to devote your attention and effort toward them."
"What?!"
"As I have gathered, you rarely leave your study at Longbourne. Outside, it may be chaos with people concerned about their future and their prospects while you reread the same books and play with your bugs."
"How dare you imply-!"
"I am not implying anything! I am plainly speaking to your face. Sir, I saw your lands. You could be making at least three to five times more income if only you worked Longbourne to its full potential."
Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes, "What is the point of devoting time to an estate that will not remain with my family?"
Mr. Darcy took a step back. That is how shocked he was. "Are you admitting that you have never tried to work properly because the estate is not legally your family's?"
"Yes. You would not understand. How many generations of Darcy men have had this estate?"
"Seven."
"There you go. You have a reason to work hard. I do not."
"YOU DO! Mr. Bennet, you have several daughters who would do much better in the marriage market with bigger dowries! You could have savings for Mrs. Bennet in the event of your death! This is like you have a disease for which there is a cure and refuse medicine because if you die, then you are dead, and what do you care for those left behind? Sir, you have a moral, ethical, financial, and even religious duty to your wife and daughters! To provide them the best life you can according to your possibilities. 2,000 a year is NOT the only amount within your possibilities. You could do a lot more and simply choose not to do it."
"You do not get to judge me!"
"But I do. How old were you when you started to manage Longbourne?"
"That is none of your concern."
"You were in your early thirties. Were you not?" Mr. Darcy did not wait for a reply. "I was eighteen years old when I took over. I had only ever had to manage my allowance... Suddenly, I was a father to my much younger sister, a Master to a very large estate, and dozens of people required my opinion and decisions every hour of every day. Low yields are acceptable in a time of crisis. What is unacceptable is to welcome those results as a new normal and never make any effort to become more profitable."
"What would you know about low yields?" Mr. Bennet's voice was laced with venom.
"The year I took over the estate, after my father passed, Pemberley saw its lowest annual results in a decade."
"That is still much more than Longbourne makes, I am sure."
"Mr. Bennet… Let me give you some perspective. My father had this estate producing over 35,000 pounds. That year, we saw barely 10,000."
"Many people would be over the moon with 10,000 pounds," Mr. Bennet scoffed.
"Yes, well. Not many people are responsible for 27 families besides their own family and staff."
"Hmm… And what did you do, then? To improve?"
"Well, Mr. Bennet, I came here thinking I could apply what I learned in my classes and books over what tenants who had worked the lands here for years knew to be true. I saw it did not work. I turned completely around. I apologized to the tenants, and I asked them to teach me."
"T-Teach you?"
"Yes. My book and theory knowledge were sorely lacking. It needed their experience, their wisdom, the techniques they had perfected, all of it. They were, thankfully, forgiving and made me work really hard the following year, but we went back up to 20,000 pounds, and we continued to grow that amount every year since."
"You? Work really hard?" Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes.
"Yes."
"I would like to ask your tenants myself."
"You just might."
"What?"
"The doctor says we can try the wheelchair."
"The what?"
The door to the bedroom opened, and the doctor pushed in a chair on wheels, "Mr. Darcy ordered this wonderful wheelchair for Mrs. Gardiner and you. She already took a turn today and got some sun and fresh air. We can try to place you in it early tomorrow so you make the most of it in the morning."
Mr. Bennet looked at the chair, the doctor, and Mr. Darcy, "What about the stairs?"
"No worries, we devised a way to bring the chair down safely. Mrs. Gardiner had no issues and cannot be jostled around in her delicate condition."
"Hmm."
"What do you say, Mr. Bennet?" the doctor asked. "Do you want to try tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Good. That is good… Mr. Darcy, I will be here at six in the morning to help direct you on how best to move him."
"Are you sure you do not want to spend the night, doctor?"
"No, thank you. We have good weather. My wife prefers it when I am in the house at night," the doctor blushed a bit.
Newlyweds, both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet thought. One thought it happily, the other bitterly.
"Of course. Send Mrs. Allen my regards. I believe Mrs. Reynolds has a basket ready for you to take home. Please see her before you leave."
"You are all ever so kind. Good evening, sir."
"Godspeed."
The doctor left. Mr. Darcy turned to Mr. Bennet, "Well, sir. I will see you early tomorrow. I hope you can rest."
"I hope you know the wheelchair you bought is not buying me."
"Mr. Bennet, do not insult me. I brought that chair to Pemberly with good intentions. I ordered it the day after we were told Mrs. Gardiner could not walk around. I did not buy it to bribe you. As a matter of fact, the only reason you need the chair is because you saw fit to ride a horse you did not know, forcing his compliance with spurs in unfamiliar terrain at a speed that, according to the stable hand who followed, you made it seem like you were trying to get yourself killed."
"It was simply a vigorous ride. Why did you have me followed?"
"The words you are looking for are 'Thank you for having me followed.' If my stable hand had not seen you fall, your injuries would have been significantly worse, and you could have died! You would have left a desolate, desperate wife with five mouths to feed. They would not even have the consolation of their home. Mr. Collins would take over before you are cold in your grave, all because you did not want to work on the estate to its full potential nor take the help you were offered to try and break the entail."
Mr. Bennet looked shocked and thoroughly insulted, but he had no reply to that.
Mr. Darcy sighed, "You are determined not to like me. Fine. Do not like me. I am determined to endure what comes because I will not allow you to drive a wedge between Miss Elizabeth and me."
"Your circumstances will deter her soon enough."
"Well, because of my circumstances… I will send this letter express to Mr. Hill and you cannot stop me. Your staff and tenants deserve consideration."
"You really do not care about my opinion? Do you not care about my wishes?"
Mr. Darcy scoffed, "Do you care about mine?"
Mr. Bennet frowned deeply.
"Exactly," Mr. Darcy smirked. "As for your wishes… That wheelchair should tell you a lot… Even if you want to misinterpret every single thing I say. Good night."
Lizzie was reading on their sofa, her legs stretched under a thick blanket. Her hair was down. Mr. Darcy knocked on the door between his room and their parlor.
"William, come in," she smiled brightly and placed the book down.
He was still dressed but barefoot. He removed his coat and placed it on the back of a chair. "Dearest," he walked to her swiftly.
She opened her arms and held him for a long, silent time. From his breathing pattern, she could tell that he was only now calming down, "What happened?"
"Nothing."
"William… You were talking with my father. Were you not?"
"Yes, I wanted to offer him to send someone to impart any instructions he had for his staff or anything he wanted to tell his tenants."
"Let me guess, nothing?"
He sighed and squeezed her a bit tighter. "No. Your father thought the wheelchair I bought for your aunt to move around was a bribe for him. I may have told him some things I should not have."
"About us?"
"No… About his estate management or lack thereof."
Lizzie was quiet for a while. She let go of him and sat back against the sofa's arm, "I see."
"I know I should not have I just… It irks me exceedingly that… Never mind."
"That what?"
"I do not want to come between you and your father."
"William, tell me. I know my father. We need to present a united front. Do not leave me out of it..."
"I will… But I apologize in advance for any pain or frustration this may cause you. Your family's estate, Longbourne, could be producing at the very least 6,000 pounds a year."
Lizzie gasped, "What?!"
"I saw the size of the land and its location. I talked to Bingley's staff and some merchants in the town… Smaller estates are making around 3,000; similar estates are making 4,000… even 5,000."
"And you told him that?"
"I told him his lands have the potential to earn much more… But darling… He said he saw no point in devoting time to an estate that is entailed away."
Lizzie paled, "He has been mediocre on purpose... Without a care for my mother or my sisters' futures? Their dowries? Their livelihood?"
Mr. Darcy looked down. "I am so sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for, but he will."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"He is to go downstairs early tomorrow, yes?"
"I will be walking outside with him. He does not get to sabotage our family and then pretend to have any legs to stand on to judge others or decide over their lives. Enough is enough."
"I will come find you early tomorrow, love. We should go to sleep. It is late," Mr. Darcy stood up to leave.
"Are you already tired of me?" she pouted.
Mr. Darcy laughed and kissed the back of her hand. "I could never be tired of you, dearest."
"No?"
"Never."
Lizzie pulled him to sit back down. "That is good news."
"It is?"
"Yes," she grinned and sat on his lap.
His eyes widened, "Dearest?"
"Kiss me, William."