A Merry Darcy Christmas

“Well,” Northover said smoothly. “The offer concerns a lady whom I noticed you have some interest in. One Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Elizabeth Bennet? What could Lady Catherine possibly offer Northover in respect of her?

“Go on.”

“Her Ladyship has offered to come to my financial assistance—to make my financial problems disappear as she put it—if I can secure the affections of Miss Bennet, and gain her hand in marriage.”

“What? She wishes you to marry Miss Bennet?” Darcy could not believe his ears.

“She not only wishes it, but she is prepared to pay handsomely for it,” Northover replied. “She knows how much I need money and that I shall have to sell yet another piece of Hardwick to get it. If I succeed in marrying Elizabeth Bennet, she will put an end to my financial problems, and permit me to preserve Hardwick in its entirety.”

Darcy was astounded. “Why should she wish you to do that? How does she benefit if you marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

“How indeed,” said Northover, “that is the question. Do you not see, Darcy? Do you not see why she wishes Miss Bennet to be married?”

Darcy suddenly saw it clearly: Lady Catherine wished Elizabeth Bennet to be married so that she could not marry him. He would then be free to marry Anne, untroubled by any notions of marrying for love.

Darcy was so shocked that he sat down beside his friend and wordlessly accepted the proffered flask.

“I’m sorry,” Northover said. “I intended to tell you, but the time never seemed quite right.”

“Do you intend to go through with it? Do you intend to seduce Miss Bennet?” Darcy said after a time, still in shock.

“It would solve my financial woes,” Northover said. “And Miss Bennet is uncommonly pretty. Too lively, though, for me. Still, you’ll agree it’s a tempting offer if I could pull it off.

“And if you marry Anne, you can do what you like with the common. It would solve both our problems.”

As his friend spoke about how sensible it would be to oblige Lady Catherine, Darcy felt a flood of emotions course through him like an angry swollen river. Rage at his aunt, raw anger towards a woman so controlling that she would stoop at nothing to achieve her ends, outrage that Elizabeth was a pawn in so craven a scheme, and dismay that his position was such that he was powerless to effect a remedy.

He was too overcome with emotion to speak.

“There, there,” said Northover gently. “Your aunt sees things differently than you or I. She sees position, and family pride, not as mere accoutrements or adornments to life, but rather as fundamental to life itself. They are the polestar by which she guides all her decisions. It is nothing personal, and indeed, it is as impersonal as the movement of the heavens.

“Do not blame her, and especially do not blame yourself, for we all have duties and responsibilities to which we must attend—even I, who has managed to evade them most artfully throughout the course of my life—as part of our station.”

“But surely you cannot take part in such a scheme?” Darcy said when he’d calmed down enough to find his tongue.

“Not marry for money?” Northover asked. “It’s been done you know, in fact, it’s rather the thing.

“Surely you are tempted to marry Anne in accordance with her mother’s wishes? If you do this, not only would it immeasurably enhance your wealth, but you could do as he pleased with the common at Rosings, fence it or not as you wish.”

It was true. If Darcy were to marry Anne, he could hardly be refused a say in the management of Rosings Park. He would also, by doing that, meet his obligations towards his own estate, and honor his late mother’s wishes. There was something to what Northover said in honoring one’s obligations and meeting the duties imposed by one station in life.

Family pride—when that family was such that pride was merited—was not a fault. Rather, it was the bedrock upon which society was built. He could not be faulted for cleaving to the pride which had served his family for generations.

But had he not once already departed from the path of pride? Did he not set aside his pride in the matter of Wickham and Lydia Bennet, and subjugate his own interests to preserve the respectability of the Bennet family, and the position of Elizabeth Bennet?

Although it had been hard to do, he had not regretted it for an instant. It had been the right thing to do. Just as it was the right thing for him to refuse to honor the arrangement to marry Anne which had been made when they were both children. And besides, Anne had no wish to marry him.

“It would be the prudent thing to do, and many would say it would be the right thing,” Darcy said firmly. “But it would not be the right thing for me. Nor does the lady in question wish it.”

“Really?” Lord Northover seemed genuinely surprised. “Anne does not wish to marry you?”

They were interrupted by Mr. Bingley. “I say, Darcy—what a fine covey! I’ve never seen such an abundance of pheasants, nor such lively sport!”

“I’m glad you are enjoying yourself,” Darcy said. Despite his concern over Northover’s news, he nevertheless smiled at his friend’s jubilation.

“I’ll say I am,” Bingley said beaming. “The whole day is just perfection itself. Fine shooting, good company, breathing the fresh clean air. Isn’t country life splendid?”