Page 22 of The Fee Entail

She looked pensive. “Did you know I saw you the very first day you appeared in Hertfordshire? You and Mr Bingley were riding out to see Netherfield, and I saw you on the way back home from one of my rambles. You were on a black stallion that seemed just a touch hard to control. It was faster than Mr Bingley’s, but at least the Bingley horse went where he wanted it to. Do you still have that horse?”

The question puzzled me exceedingly. “In fact, I do. It is standing in the stable at Rosings as we speak. You may even credit or blame him for my presence here today. I rode from London last week, and he lost a shoe a couple of miles from Hunsford. That is how I came to be eavesdropping on you and your… er… Mr Bennet.”

She continued with her interrogation. “How often do you ride? I do not mean just a leisurely canter suitable for your sister or Rotten Row. I mean a hard, manly ride that has the horse lathered and your hat in danger.”

This seemed about as far as possible from the original question, but I went along as I had no better idea.

“Usually once per day, sometimes twice, but not every day. Perhaps a dozen times per week on average.”

She nodded sagely. “How long has it been since your father died?”

Puzzled, I wondered where she was going, but answered sadly, “It has been nine years now.”

She continued relentlessly, “And your sister, she is capable of managing the estate, is she?”

I was shocked. “Certainly not!”

She looked at me. “You may think I am talking in circles, but I assure you I am not. Everything we have spoken of since we sat down is related.”

I waited patiently for her to continue, and at length, she did.

“I have been thinking a great deal about duty, Mr Darcy, and I am not convinced you have been doing yours, nor do you appear to be inclined to. By your own admission, you have risked your life on your horse perhaps three thousand times since your father died. You not only have no heir, but you appear to not even have a potential mother for that heir, unless you have someone hidden away that I do not know about. Your aunt thinks to pair you with Miss de Bourgh, but I doubt she would survive the rigours of childbirth; or at least, I would not want to bet the future of two great estates on her health.”

She sat up straighter and stared me in the eyes. “Who would look after your estate in case of your death? You have a small family, just your sister; no spare. How will your estate survive if you do not produce an heir? It is more than twenty years until any heir you produce will be even remotely capable of handling the burden, and more likely thirty. Will you depend on your extended family? Will a cousin or uncle become owner or trustee should you fall? Will they take diligent care of your sister and your tenants when they have their own estates to manage? You will be close to fifty, with ten thousand more dangerous rides by the time your heir is the age you were when you took over the estate. Sixty when he is truly prepared for the burden, and that assumes you start looking for a wife now. Truly, you should have started five years ago.”

Each word hit me like a hammer. I was used to being considered arrogant, rude, bad-mannered, egotistical, and all the other things she once correctly thought of me; but I was in no way accustomed to being considered derelict in my duties. I was a good and conscientious master; kind to my tenants, servants, and retainers; generous to those under my control; diligent in the management of my responsibilities—except for the one lapse with Georgiana.

She continued relentlessly. “Your sister is what, seventeen now? When will she enter society? Has she recovered from her disaster with Wickham? Will she be able to manage without a mother or sister to guide her? I would hope you are not counting on Lady Catherine! Will she be torn apart by the harpies of the ton, which I have been assured are fierce gossips, if her brother remains unmarried at near thirty and spends his time with an ineligible widow with perhaps a bastard or two? The truth about any children I have will come out sooner or later, I can assure you. It always does, and it will harm you, your estate, and your sister. What happens to your sister’s reputation if people make the not unreasonable assumption that I have stepped outside the bounds of marriage with you, if you are still hanging about? True or not, it will be spoken of, even if Wickham has to start the stories himself.”

She paused and looked at my countenance, which was admittedly most likely shocked.

“As I said, I am not trying to be harsh, but I strongly believe it is time for you to get on with the serious business of producing an heir, and you are probably materially harming both your estate and your sister if you remain in my company very much longer.”

With a deep breath, she fired her last arrow. “I intend to do my duty, Mr Darcy! Will you do less?”

With that, she folded her hands on her lap and looked down at them somewhat shyly, as if just waiting for my reaction. Perhaps she expected me to be angry, or storm out of the parsonage, or yell at her, or profess my innocence, or—who knew what she expected? She previously asserted I was generally ill-mannered, a point that was not in contention, so she had every right to be cautious, but I was not inclined to censure her for telling the truth.

I had never actually taken the trouble to truly understand all the particulars of my life. It was all so obvious when she pointed it out. My aunt had been rattling on about duty for years, but none but Elizabeth ever managed to make it sink in.

I believe it was in that small interval between her declarations of my need to do my duty and when I was capable of making a response, that I decided once and for all, irrevocably, that I was in love with Elizabeth. Perhaps I knew all along, but much like her assertions about my duty, I did not see what was sitting plain as day, right in front of my eyes.

I was in love with Elizabeth Collins née Bennet, and the idea of loving another was impossible to fathom.

She obviously had courage in abundance, as well as great sense and education. Perhaps she had always thought those things, but I did not believe so. It was most likely a result of her recent encounter with the duties and responsibilities of position. She did not have an estate simply handed to her at birth, with nobody to gainsay her. She was forced to think all the way through all the implications in the ten minutes she spent staring at her father in the lane. She thought through the entire thing, made a life-changing decision that would give her unknown risks and rewards, and she did it all while only barely restraining herself from doing harm to her father, and doing her best for her sisters.

How could I do less?

Practicality

Elizabeth

When I could finally look up from my clasped hands at his countenance, I saw him deep in thought, but with no apparent anger or desire to depart my company.

I waited. I waited most patiently. I had not the slightest idea what precisely I was waiting for, but I waited. I expected an explosion of some type, or a leave-taking, or some argument, or… actually, I had no idea what to expect. Once again, I wondered why I could not prevaricate with the man. I lied to our curate every day. I lied to our parishioners and the people of the village, at least by omission, every time I saw them. I sat in the parson’s pew every Sunday and lied to the entire congregation. I lied to Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh; so why could I not keep my opinions to myself with this man of all men? There was a time when I would have stamped my foot and asserted he was an insufferable man, but this time, I was the insufferable one. He paid me a great compliment, and I repaid it by questioning his dedication to his duty—nay, his very character—but I could neither retract nor soften the blow. Why him? What hold did he have on me?

He finally said, “You are correct, Elizabeth. I have not done my duty. It is imperative that I produce an heir. I believe I have known this for some time but have been unwilling to admit it. I do, however, believe I have a solution, and I would like to discuss it with you once I work out all the particulars.”

That surprised me. I still had no idea why he was my confidant, but my choices were limited. He, on the other hand, was master of a great estate, known to many.