A Merry Darcy Christmas

Elizabeth had no problem forgiving Anne. Indeed, she believed that she had some reason to be grateful to her. It was the letter which had prompted her to revisit her opinion of Mr. Darcy.

“You do not need my forgiveness,” Elizabeth said. “I believe I’m in your debt. It was proud of me to refuse the letter when Mr. Darcy attempted to give it to me. It seems that he had mastered his pride at the very time when I permitted mine to best me.”

“But there is more,” Anne said earnestly. “It is not just the letter that you should know about, Miss Bennet.”

More than the letter? What could that possibly be? Elizabeth had been surprised and moved by the contents of the letter and the fact that there might be more which she did not know seemed almost unbelievable.

“You must tell me whatever you know. I promise to hold it in strictest confidence.”

Anne glanced over her shoulder at the doorway outside of which Giselle was keeping guard, then turned back to Elizabeth. “You must not tell Fitzwilliam that I told you, nor anyone else.”

Elizabeth nodded.

“You must have wondered how it came to be that Mr. Wickham married your sister Lydia. You could not have known since he wished it kept secret, but Fitzwilliam arranged it. It was entirely his doing.”

Elizabeth listened as Anne explained how Mr. Darcy had tracked Wickham and Lydia down through Mrs. Younge in London, and then had persuaded Wickham to marry her sister. She learned that Mr. Darcy had not only paid Wickham’s debts, but had purchased a commission for him in the regulars, and given him further monies to permit him to travel to the north and join his new regiment and also to support himself and his new bride. She was staggered by the amount that Mr. Darcy had paid Wickham.

“Ten thousand pounds? That much?” Elizabeth said.

“I did not know Mr. Wickham other than that he was the son of the steward of Pemberley, and that his mother through her recklessness was responsible for keeping his father impoverished, and that Mr. Wickham was of the same stamp. Fitzwilliam always visited Rosings Park in the summer on his own,” Anne said. “But Fitzwilliam did tell me that Mr. Wickham was no fool and that he was of an opportunistic and mercenary nature.”

“But why would Mr. Darcy go to such lengths to arrange the marriage? What did it mean to him whether Mr. Wickham married Lydia or not?”

Anne looked at her as one might look at a slow child. “Why for you of course,” she said. “Fitzwilliam arranged the marriage between your sister and Mr. Wickham to preserve your reputation, and that of your family.”

Elizabeth felt her breath leave her lungs. The deep red walls of the drawing room receded, and she felt as though she was sinking into an abyss. How could she have been so blind? How could she not have seen that the agency which brought her sister together with the scoundrel in an event which threatened to ruin them all, could only have been Mr. Darcy? She reproached herself for not having realized it when she had known that her uncle, Mr. Gardiner, could not possibly have afforded to arrange the marriage.

She had told herself that Wickham must have loved Lydia, knowing that he would never marry a woman without fortune, and having seen evidence of that fact with her own eyes. Had Wickham not told her plainly that he could not marry her for that very reason? Why had she deceived herself then, in respect of Lydia who was in exactly the same position?

But then the full weight of the realization sank upon her. If Mr. Darcy had gone to those lengths to preserve her reputation, what Anne had said about him loving her must be true. No man would go to such exertion

s unless he truly loved the woman whose reputation he sought to preserve.

“Oh, Lady Anne,” Elizabeth said disconsolately. “I have been so blind.”

Anne reached out her hand and laid it upon Elizabeth’s before quickly withdrawing it as though unused to human contact. She did not speak, but instead looked at Elizabeth with a sympathetic expression.

After a moment Elizabeth was encouraged to continue, for she could see that Anne did not seem to blame her for her unforgivable stupidity.

“I’ve been a fool. Is it too late?”

Anne smiled and shook her head. “No. It is not too late.

“But you must realize that Fitzwilliam is under tremendous pressure to act against the wishes of his heart. It is one thing for him to go against my mother when it concerns himself, but it is another thing and a much harder one, for him to cross her at a cost to others for whom he feels responsible.”

Elizabeth understood that she was speaking of the tenant farmers of Rosings Park who would be displaced if the common was fenced.

“Marrying you would give Mr. Darcy some control of Rosings Park,” Elizabeth said. “He would be able to prevent the common from being fenced.”

“That is correct,” Anne replied. “It has been put to him that marrying me is the only way to prevent that unhappy event. Indeed, it is the reason for my mother wishing to have the common fenced in the first place. She wishes to force Fitzwilliam to marry me whether he wished to or not.”

Elizabeth wondered how Mr. Darcy could resist the pressure to marry Anne when that would lead to so many good people being forced from their homes?

“It is hopeless then? Mr. Darcy would never place his own interests over those of innocent parties.”

For reasons which she could not understand, Anne was still smiling. This gave Elizabeth some hope, and she waited for the other to continue.

“Again, you are right,” Anne said, “Mr. Darcy feels his duties very keenly. But it is not hopeless, Miss Bennet. All is not lost. Are you willing to trust me?”