A Most Civil Proposal (9 page)

Darcy struggled to control his sudden fury, and it was several moments before he felt himself under sufficient control to respond to Jennings report.

“I see,” he said at length, and motioned to his valet to continue.

Jennings well understood his employer’s anger and shrugged helplessly. “I am sorry, sir, but the staff, as I say —”

“I know, I know, Jennings. Pray continue.”

“As I say, the Parsonage staff was all excited about this as a most improper and indeed, compromising, situation, especially since it is the house of a clergyman. Next” — he ticked off another finger — “the Rosings staff has taken that bit of gossip and added to it that you and Miss Bennet have several times been seen walking in the park and that you have other times ventured to meet Miss Bennet alone at the Parsonage. They are talking of other assignations beyond that of last evening.

“Next,” he continued, “Mr. Collins was incautious enough this morning to speak to Lady Catherine in front of one of the servants. He not only repeated what was being said already but also added his own estimation, which is — and please pardon me for saying it, sir — that you made improper advances toward Miss Bennet last evening, which she rejected. He believes you tried to force yourself on her, which resulted in Miss Bennet fleeing the parlour in tears.”

This brought Darcy to his feet in anger. “That idiot! That he would spread such filth about his own cousin is completely intolerable! And that the servants would then gossip about it! Can they not see how harmful this type of talk can be to the family? Is there no one in charge below stairs at either household?”

“There does not appear to be, sir. The previous housekeeper left over two months ago, and she has not been replaced. The butler ought to step in, but it appears that he is rather fond of the bottle and will not be bothered to control the staff.”

“Well, is that all?” asked Darcy, calming himself and resuming his seat.

“Not quite, sir. And this last is the most disturbing of the lot. One of the kitchen maids, who appears quite the ringleader, has ventured that the parson’s opinion regarding improper advances could not have been accurate, since she saw you just this morning walking with Miss Bennet. Your conversation, seen from a distance, could not be discerned but it was clear that both parties were at times upset. She ventured to suggest that you must have seduced Miss Bennet and her tears last night resulted from her attempts to induce you to marry her followed by your flat refusal.”

This last brought a groan from Darcy, but Jennings continued. “I thought I overheard her saying that she had written to her sister of this story, but when I confronted her, she would not confirm the truth of it. I did check, but the afternoon post had been picked up already.”

Darcy’s face was stony though his thoughts were in turmoil as Jennings concluded. “That is the last of what I could learn, sir. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. I have never been subjected to such ill-bred associates. They would never be tolerated in a decent household.”

Darcy thanked him for his efforts and dismissed him for the evening, but after more than an hour of deep contemplation, he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Come,” called Darcy, startled out of his concentration, and he was surprised to see Fitzwilliam enter. The worry was evident on his cousin’s normally pleasant face.

“Darcy,” he said without preamble, “my man, Sergeant Henderson, has just told me of some most disturbing news that he picked up in the kitchen.”

“I can guess,” Darcy groaned. “I spoke with Jennings earlier.”

“What!” exclaimed Fitzwilliam, looking sharply at Darcy. “Cousin, they are saying you have seduced Miss Bennet!”

“Among other things,” growled Darcy. “What an unholy muddle!” Seeing the look of concern still on his cousin’s face, he burst out, “It is not true, Richard! Nothing improper has passed between Elizabeth and me!”

“Elizabeth, is it?” Fitzwilliam said with some heat. “She did not look as if she would have welcomed your calling her by her Christian name this afternoon. What exactly
has
passed between you, Darcy?”

Darcy realized that, once his cousin’s protective nature was aroused, nothing less than the full account would do, and he resignedly set himself to it.

“Will you pour two brandies? I shall explain everything, but it may take some time.”

Darcy then told his cousin of all that had transpired between himself and Elizabeth, from their meeting in Hertfordshire, to his abortive proposal, to that night’s unwelcome report from Jennings. By the time he was finished, their glasses had been refilled and were once again half-drained.

“What a bunch of gossiping old hens!” Fitzwilliam remarked. He took a sip of his brandy. “At least that explains her ladyship’s behaviour at dinner.”

“Too right. But as angry as she must be, she will never bring it up to me for fear that I might be forced to defend Miss Bennet’s honour by offering marriage.”

“Do you think she has any inkling of your true feelings?”

Darcy shook his head. “I would be quite surprised. But more important is the question of what I should do.” He ran his hand through his hair as he considered the situation. “I am inclined to think that the best course is to simply ignore it,” he said at last. “Almost anything I might do would only lend credence to these pernicious rumours.”

Fitzwilliam considered this a moment. “The thought has its attractions, but I am concerned about the letter written by one of the kitchen staff. Did Jennings have any idea where it was sent?” Darcy shook his head, and Fitzwilliam sighed. “That makes it more difficult. What if this gossip should make its way to London?”

“That would not be pleasant,” Darcy agreed. “But how bad could it be? Why could I not simply ignore it, even if it did become a topic of conversation?”

“Because you, my dear cousin, are a supremely eligible bachelor and are therefore a figure of prominence in London society. If the gossip makes it to the scandal sheets, it
will
be published, and it
will
be noticed.”

“Even so, it has happened before, and I have successfully ignored it.”

“Yes, but those were trifling mentions, seeking to connect you to this or that available young woman. This involves more than yourself.
You
might successfully ignore it even if it were published in the
Chronicle
, and you might well escape with barely a singe. But not Miss Bennet,” he said quietly. “What will merely singe you could completely ruin her. If you do not want the girl hurt, you have to do something.”

Darcy grimaced at the truth of Fitzwilliam’s observation. “There is only one response acceptable in a situation such as this, and that is an offer of marriage. But that has already been attempted with the dismal results I have mentioned.”

“Then your offer will have to be renewed, and Miss Bennet must be prepared to accept or face the consequences. It does seem as if she may have acquitted you of the worst of her opinions, and this additional information may convince her of the wisdom of this course.”

Darcy considered this, but the problem was that he believed he understood Elizabeth better than his cousin did — for all his superior skill in conversation. Richard had not seen the manner in which Elizabeth had stood up to him, and he believed that even this disturbing news would not move her from her course. It might be different if the gossip actually were published and talked about, for then Elizabeth would have little choice if she wished to prevent scandal from damaging her or her family. However, she had that morning given him a chance to continue their acquaintance, and he would prefer to keep to that course.

“I will acquaint Miss Bennet with this distressing news,” Darcy said slowly, “but I believe that any renewal of my offer would be rejected.” Fitzwilliam opened his mouth to protest, but Darcy held up his hand. “Trust me on this, Richard. She would be outraged by any attempt to force her to accept marriage due to household gossip that we both know has no foundation. Yet she must be informed. We are scheduled to depart in the morning at nine, and I will attempt to see her in private if she walks early. But what if she does not walk? Perhaps we should delay until the afternoon or even the following day.”

Fitzwilliam was not wholly in accord with Darcy’s refusal to renew his offer, but he submitted to his cousin’s better understanding of Miss Bennet. On the subject of their departure, however, his opinion was fixed.

“There are two points against delaying our departure, as I see it,” he said firmly. “One is that a letter has already been dispatched, so time lost may be time needed. Second is the disgraceful state of the staff here. With the arrangements already in place, changing our plans at the last minute will likely give rise to further whispers, such as ‘Mr. Darcy is unable to leave his mistress,’ and
that
news will shortly be included in some other post.” He paused thoughtfully, looking at his cousin. “I still believe that you should renew your offer or possibly take this to Miss Bennet’s father.”

“It will not work, Richard. That eventuality may come, but I am convinced that she will reject any offer I might make now. And even if I saw her father and he agreed with me, I doubt that he would force her to marry against her will.”

“Possibly you are correct” — Fitzwilliam sighed — “yet I do not wish to see Miss Bennet hurt.”

“Nor do I,” he answered, running his hand through his hair again. “What if I cannot see her before we leave? If she does not walk, I will have no chance to notify her.”

Fitzwilliam brightened at a sudden thought. “Write her a letter, Darcy. If you do not see her in the morning, take it to her at the Parsonage.”

“She will not accept a letter from me. And even if she did, as you pointed out, the staff would then gossip about
that
.”

“Ummm,” said Fitzwilliam in reluctant agreement, then brightened again. “What about Anne?” he suggested. “I know she corresponds with Mrs. Collins; I have seen several notes left to be delivered. Perhaps she could take your letter and enclose it inside one of her own?”

Darcy nodded slowly. “That would work. I know Anne relishes the opportunity to circumvent Lady Catherine whenever possible to do so without being discovered.”

“Yes, she will not oppose her openly,” Fitzwilliam said sadly. “Still, I do not know whether either of us would be any braver if we had to live in her ladyship’s household and under her authority.”

“Too true.”

“It ought to be a
good
letter to Miss Bennet, Cousin.” Fitzwilliam smiled.

“At least I
write
better than I
speak
,” he jested in return.

The two men then made one final toast, draining their glasses before Fitzwilliam excused himself for the evening and Darcy sat down to write. For the third night in a row, he would get little sleep, and it was past three in the morning before he at last finished. He addressed his letter to ‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet,’ sealed it, and stamped it with the Darcy family crest. Lastly, before retiring, he enclosed it in a plain sheet of stationery.

Chapter 7

Saturday, April 11, 1812

“Good morning, Anne,” Darcy said in greeting the next morning. “Thank you for admitting me on such short notice.”

His cousin was sitting by the window, looking outdoors with a wistful expression. He suddenly felt guilty for his robust health and his errand when this young woman was so hindered by her own frail body that she was unable to share in the beauties of the world upon which she gazed.

“It is no trouble,” she responded, turning to him at last. “I have been awake for hours.”

Darcy nodded in sad understanding of his cousin’s frailties before mentally shrugging off his sympathy and focusing on his purpose. “We are ready to go” he began, and she nodded, for he had taken leave of her the previous evening. “But I wish to solicit your aid in an urgent matter. It is,” he said, looking her in the eye, “one that needs to be kept from your mother’s notice.”

“It is, is it?” she said with more interest than before. “And what do you need my help with, Cousin Darcy?”

“I need your aid to get a letter to Miss Elizabeth Bennet at the Parsonage.”

“Ah, the valiant Miss Bennet,” she said with a slight smile. “That
does
explain some of the oddities I have noted on this visit.”

Her discerning gaze made Darcy uncomfortable. Anne might have inherited her physical frailty from her father, but she had also inherited his incisive mind.

“For obvious reasons, I cannot simply hand my letter to her. I thought you might enclose it in one of your own to Mrs. Collins, which I could then deliver to her before we leave,” he told her, taking out his letter and setting it on the table.

Anne looked at it with interest but did not reach to take it, instead fixing him with an inquisitive stare.

“I must inform Miss Bennet of some very urgent matters, Anne,” he said haltingly. “She must be made aware — and quickly, I might add — of vital information that affects her personally.”