Page 50 of The Blackmail of Mr. Darcy
“Oh, my goodness.” She laughed again. “I fear we may need to marry soon.”
“I should love that,” Darcy replied.
“I suppose, then, that we should hurry to speak with my father.”
“And give them these,” he said. He brought out from an inner pocket a thick packet of papers.
Elizabeth delighted him by grabbing his hand and hurrying him back to the house. He laughed with joy, feeling that she not only echoed his sentiments, but also his urgency. Was there ever a man more lucky?
Keep that thought, he told himself as he faced Mr. Bennet. Again.
Mr. Bennet nodded his head but neglected to stand. Again.
“Well, Mr. Darcy,” the man said. “Do we have more sensitive topics under investigation that need the shelter of my bookroom?”
“No, sir, we seem to be finally done with all of that. And when I saywe, I mean Miss Elizabeth and I; Sir William still has three people in his care, and Bingley is still waiting for permission to settle his sister into a safer care situation.
“Well, it has not been dull, of late, I can say that.” Mr. Bennet seemed a bit more jaded than his words would hint, and he said, “So what can I do for you today?”
“Elizabeth has made me the happiest I have ever been in my life by consenting to be my wife, and as promised, I brought the marriage articles for your perusal and signature.”
Mr. Bennet scowled, and Darcy tensed. But lifelong habits kept his face impassive, and he ordered his shoulders to relax since he was pretty sure Mr. Bennet was deliberately attempting to make him anxious.
He placed the sheaf of papers on Mr. Bennet’s desk. For a second, he wondered if the man’s indolence would dictate that he only glance through them rather than carefully read them.
Darcy almost laughed. It was all the same to him, he supposed; he would take exquisite care of Elizabeth whether or not her father did.
But Mr. Bennet did carefully read them. He held a quill over a blank sheet of paper, ink bottle at the ready, apparently in case he wanted to make any notes for changes, but he read everything without making a single note. When he looked back up, and his pale blue eyes met Darcy’s dark eyes, Darcy could see that he was impressed. No trace of sarcasm coloured his smile nor his voice as he said, “‘A bit of an underestimate,’ you said. Apparently you are the master of sarcasm, although I did not even know it at the time. Stealth sarcasm, I would call it!”
Darcy shrugged a single shoulder. “As I said, I do not need to be more conspicuous.” He was pretty sure that Mr. Bennet was shrewd enough to mentally add the incomes from Pemberley, his other properties, and a variety of investments, and to come up with a combined income being closer to forty thousand pounds per annum.
“The amount you will settle on my Lizzy, the pin money, the dowries for daughters; I cannot complain about any of it. You are most generous, and you have my consent and my blessing.” Mr. Bennet sounded neither grateful nor sarcastic; instead, he sounded utterly intimidated. He signed the bottom of the last page.
Darcy said, “Because of my need to get back to my estate, Elizabeth and I had hoped we could marry soon. Naturally, we neither expect nor want an elaborate wedding breakfast. Do I have your permission to set a date sometime in the next fortnight, and to purchase a common license?
“Yes, yes, you two set the date and let me know. I know that her mother would want to have a little notice, but I do not mind if we do the deed later this afternoon.”
There it is, Darcy thought to himself. One part dismissively nonchalant, one part witty but sarcastic.
Darcy bowed himself out of the room and hurried to be near Elizabeth again. He said, “Your father has given his permission for any time. I think you should go over the settlement with me, and then we should decide on a date and purchase the license.”
“Yes, please, to all of that,” Elizabeth said. And the two of them accomplished all three things that day, although not without some drama.
Elizabeth was so overwhelmed by the wealth reflected in Darcy’s settlement, she claimed to be considering pulling out on the grounds that it was absurd to think of her in connection with such a family. But of course she was teasing (for the most part).
When they were deciding on the wedding date, Mrs. Bennet almost fainted at the idea of arranging a wedding breakfast for a man with ten thousand a year (Darcy and Elizabeth, naturally, did not inform her of the actual amount of his income), but then she got actually angry that it was going to be “such a hurried affair.”
“Who could imagine putting together such an event in just ten days?” she lamented. “A wedding breakfast should not be some cobbled-together event!”
They soothed her with the argument that Pemberley needed its master. Darcy said, “One does not earn ten thousand a year without providing oversight of one’s estate.”
Thus they convinced Mrs. Bennet to relent on the schedule and to dive into planning “the loveliest wedding breakfast Meryton has ever seen.”
The walk to the parish church to purchase the general license was most pleasant, but they met several people who insisted on talking with them and even, in one case, walking with them part of the way. On the way home, they took a more indirect and little-used path that Elizabeth knew about.
The best part of little-used paths, of course, was the opportunity to step off the path, unseen, into a copse of trees. There two young people in love could gain more experience in kissing. Elizabeth had thought Darcy quite proficient their first time, but when they were finally back at Longbourn, they both wore the smug expressions of the truly accomplished.
Having been invited to dinner, Darcy and Elizabeth bore the giggles of Kitty and Lydia, the judgmental gaze of Mary, the blushes of Jane, and the glare of Mr. Bennet. The only person who beamed approval of their reddened, slightly swollen lips was Mrs. Bennet. Darcy so appreciated that unspoken support, he forgave all of the woman’s crassness about “how much pin money Lizzy will have!” and all of her handkerchief-flutteringdramatics about their “hurry-scurry” to the altar. Later, as he was leaving, Darcy wished Mrs. Bennet goodnight with a kiss on her cheek.
