Lady Eleanor received him with a glass of brandy. They remained for some moments in silence, until he had taken the first sip.
“Now,” she said, in her calm voice, “the divorce will not be easy; we must consider every step with care. London must be disposed to compassion, not to ridicule.”
“They will gossip,” he replied, and still his spirits were lightened by the support he had found. He would follow her guidance in all things. She would know how best to prevent a scandal—for him, and for the family.
“You did not tell the whole truth,” she observed, without reproach, her attention returning to her embroidery.
“No.” He smiled faintly. “Anne was perfectly civil. I came to like her very much in those last days. I shall assist her in settling, and ensure she has a secure and constant income.”
“Good. I begin to understand her plan, and she made an excellent choice in marrying you—very good for her. You may tell her to write to me.”
Darcy regarded her. Her delicacy of appearance concealed both strength and discernment.
“Where is Richard?” he asked.
“With his regiment. He will not return for at least a month. Now, Fitzwilliam—tell me more about that young lady. Does she wish to be involved in such a…difficult matter?”
“I hope so. But I need your assistance in this more than in anything else.”
“My dear Fitzwilliam, I am wholly devoted to your happiness—and to Richard’s.”
“I rely entirely upon you.”
“God bless you, my dear boy! You are as unselfish as your mother. Such generosity cannot go unrewarded.”
“It was Anne’s idea—”
“And you agreed!”
Darcy loved Richard sincerely and had resolved to secure for him an income of at least three thousand a year. It was not solely generosity. He knew that, once Richard became master of the Bourgh estate, his mother’s influence would be entirely his—and, through him, Elizabeth would never want for support.
“Now,” said Lady Eleanor, recovering herself, “tell me more of this young lady.”
“She is the most beautiful and intelligent woman in the world,” he answered, and his thoughts returned, unbidden, to their last embrace.
Lady Eleanor smiled with indulgence. “That is not what I require to know, Fitzwilliam. After the little stray you married, I expect you to present me with a mistress of Pemberley who will remain so.”
“She possesses every quality,” he replied, and again his aunt suppressed a smile.
“Who is she?”
“She is the sister of Bingley’s wife—Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“And you are certain, this time, that she is the woman you love, and with whom you would spend your life?”
“I am, Aunt. Do you think it will signify that she is not of…?” He hesitated.
“…our circle?”
“Yes.”
“In other circumstances, it might have signified something. At present, bring her to London, and we shall manage the rest.”
Darcy was not without discernment. He could not help but wonder how far this readiness was influenced by the prospect of Richard’s advantage from the de Bourgh fortune. In any other situation, his aunt—daughter of a duke, wife of an earl—might have judged differently.
But it no longer signified. Save for the difficult interval before the divorce, it seemed that Anne, in quitting him, had served him in more ways than one.
Two things remained: to inform Georgiana and to write a long letter to his cousin with the news—which, in the end, proved favourable for the whole family.
