“He need not wait for a formal invitation. I daresay it would do you good to hear his condolences in person. You have only just received your other friends’ letters as though you had been in Madeira.” She lowered her eyes, and it caught his notice. “While I have command of your attention, would you take charge of this for me?”
She handed him a single sheet before she left the room.
I, Elizabeth Darcy, of the parish of St Albans, do by this my last will and testament give and bequeath to my husband Fitzwilliam Darcy everything of which I may die possessed, or which may be hereafter due to me, subject to the payment of my funeral expenses, and a legacy of £10 to my sister Lydia Bennet, which I request be paid as soon as convenient. I appoint my said dear husband the executor of this my last will and testament.
Elizabeth Darcy
21 July 1812
Dearhusband. Was he dear to her? She had become very dear to him, so much so that he wondered if their two hearts could be tenderly and truly united before she died. He doubted if it was wise, and if such a thing was even possible.
What little Mrs Darcy possessed she left to him, save for ten pounds for her unmarried sister. He again felt the shame of not offeringallthat it was in his power to give.Could I tell her the truth about me now?He could not stand to see her disappointment in being deceived. What if she hated him for it, and the rest of their short time together was marred by resentment?
Darcy sighed as he rose. The deception was wrong, and he had to explain his silence until now as best he could. Darcy found his wife reading on the parlour sofa.
“Mrs Darcy, I ...” He did not know how to begin. “Firstly, you need not leave your possessions and money to me. Lydia, or Miss Lucas, indeed anyone you love has a greater claim to?—”
“It would appear strange for any wife not to leave her fortune toher husband. I would do nothing to raise questions as to our arrangement or damage your reputation. My possessions are yours since you married me, in any event. There is not a settlement to provide an alternate provision for what little I have, and I am happy for you to have it. Do you promise to execute my will?”
“You know that I could do nothing else.”
“I have another small request. It is not so important to put it into writing, but I feel that I might prevail upon your honour.”
“Anything, anything at all.”
“You are a man accustomed to having his directives followed. I see that in the way you speak to everyone, the way you managed the carriage accident on the lane: politely, but with absolute authority. Would you speak to the rector of Longbourn after I am dead? Once you sell my things, would you encourage him to show charity to Mrs Starr? If you mention Mrs Beverly to him, I know he will engage her to continue my efforts. Her mother, Mrs Baker, was a mean, selfish woman, but her daughter is generous. A few pounds from you to begin ought to be enough to motivate others to help a bankrupt widow.”
“You need not wait until you are dead! Take what money you think appropriate and walk into Meryton and give?—”
“Mr Darcy, you are more generous than your position warrants.” She shook her head as though confused. “I know not how a man who has education but no status or wealth has such command, but your authoritative manner along with my few pounds will ensure that Mrs Starr is provided for, and that Mrs Beverly continues to show charity to others in her position. You have a benevolent nature more suitable to a wealthier man.”
Darcy set his shoulders. Here was the perfect moment to acknowledge the duty ingrained in him since he was a child, the depth of his influence, the vastness of his wealth, the truth of who he was and who his people were. He could not open his lips. She would be dead by Michaelmas, and for the present he was admired not for his connexions and wealth and an estate in Derbyshire, but purely on his own merits and goodness.
And she thinks I am a good man regardless of what I thought about my nephew. She might hate me once she realises what I have withheld from her.
“I thank you for the compliment, and I shall execute your will and carry out every bequest you ask of me.” He turned to leave, selfish coward that he was, but she called him back.
“I know why you have this command of countenance, why you carry yourself with so much authority.” She rose and stepped closer. “You have been kind enough to let me sit at your desk—you have a lovely prospect from your window—and I have seen ledgers and bills for settling accounts not related to this house.”
Mrs Darcy was not a stupid woman by any consideration. Darcy ran a hand across his eyes and waited for the claim to come from her lips, and then the anger at his deceit and the disappointment in his lack of integrity that would naturally follow.
“You pay extra to the washerwoman out of kindness, you insist that you have no need of my money after I am dead, and you are managing the affairs of everything on an estate from cows to barley to tenants. Mr Darcy, it is plain that you have more income than you let on. You supplement whatever legacy was left to you by being a landowner’s steward.”
He dropped his hand, piercing her with a look. “What?”
“You must be the steward of an estate to be writing so much about crops and livestock, and to keep so many ledgers. Whoever the gentleman landowner is, he must either be bound to you by strong affection and loyalty, or you must be an irreplaceable employee. It is nothing of which you ought to be ashamed.”
“What?”
She gave him a look as though he was simple. “How else could you be kept on as his employee when you are gone from his estate, and have been since last autumn? Your absence must detract from the attention required to discharge your duties, and yet this gentleman retains your services when he thinks you are in Madeira indefinitely. It speaks well of you!”
He knew his mouth hung open. Mrs Darcy gave a little laugh and came nearer to clasp his hand. He instinctively clung to it tighter. “You are foolish to be ashamed of being employed. You need not fear that Ithink less of you. You are a gentlemanlike man, you have clearly been given the best education, and I know you have spent time in town amongst the upper classes. That you supplement your legacy by earning a few hundred more pounds a year by doing work you excel at is admirable. Some may perhaps judge you for it, but not me.”
She let go of his hand and sat, looking at him expectantly while he stared in confusion. “Mr Darcy, you must have the financial means to be generous beyond the ten thousand pounds your sister said that you had. Why, that would yield only four hundred a year, yet you have all of these servants, you keep a horse for only riding and hunting, you give your money freely. By what little of your papers I have seen, you do not manage this gentleman’s estate with debt. Why, there must be an explanation for you to spend as freely as you do.”
He was about to speak his affront when he recognised the approving look Mrs Darcy was giving him. Yes, she also looked amused, as though he provided her a great joke, but the earnest gaze was stronger. All the neighbourhood thought he cleared no more than four hundred last year, but Mrs Darcy had seen enough in this small home to realise it was a ruse.
Her assumption was insulting, but entirely rational and entirely wrong.At least by her account, my affairs are not thought to be sadly involved.She did not think he had loans to be paid or that there was debt to his name. She thought him so valuable an employee that he was allowed to work in absentia. He could not confess the truth now, but how could he say she was correct? He might lose her approval entirely once she knew he had deceived her.
