Page 17 of The Slipper Scandal
Darcy gazed momentarily at the amber liquid in his glass, contemplating his situation. He possessed more wealth than most men could imagine. Pemberley's income alone, properly managed, would assure comfort for several generations, and now his great-uncle's fortune had added substantially to his reserves. His sister Georgiana was provided for separately, and beyond her, there was no one.
The idea that Miss Bennet lacked fortune seemed almost laughable in context. His great-uncle's inheritance alone could easily support a wife with no dowry. It was not pecuniary advantage he sought, but a companion. Because he had not yet been actively seeking a wife, he had not thought deeplyabout what traits she ought to possess other than the common accomplishments he had been taught to value. Miss Elizabeth Bennet offered the possibility of something altogether different. Better.
“I must express my gratitude for your honourable response to the situation,” Mr. Abernathy was saying. “Many gentlemen of your standing might have chosen a different path."
Darcy inclined his head. "There was no question of any other course of action once Miss Bennet's reputation was endangered."
Mr. Abernathy studied him for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "I feel I must be entirely forthright with you about Elizabeth's circumstances." He paused, taking a measured sip of his brandy. "While Elizabeth is as dear to my family as a daughter, she brings neither fortune nor significant connections to a marriage. She has us, of course, and her father is a gentleman, but Longbourn is a modest estate and is entailed away from the female line. With five daughters at home, he has little to give them."
Darcy's expression remained impassive. He had suspected as much, for Abernathy had only inherited the larger part of his wealth a few years ago. It stood to reason that a childhood friend of his daughter’s would be from their former sphere, not their current one.
"Furthermore," Mr. Abernathy continued, "while society now presumes that a compromise occurred, we both know the reality is that Ellington is to blame, not you, and that this incident has been exaggerated beyond all proportion." He leaned forward slightly. "What I am attempting to say, Darcy, is that should you wish to withdraw your offer, I would support both you and Elizabeth in managing the gossip. It might require some delicate navigation, but I believe it could be accomplished without irreparable damage to either party."
Darcy felt a flicker of something close to indignation. "You suggest I should retract my proposal?"
"I suggest no such thing," Mr. Abernathy clarified hastily. "I honestly believe that Lizzy would make you an excellent bride. I merely wish to ensure you understand you are not irreversibly bound. She is not a girl who dreams of marriage, having had a poor example of it at home. And a man of your position might reasonably expect a match with greater social and financial advantages. I would not have you made miserable." He met Darcy’s gaze with his own. “Eitherof you.”
Darcy set his barely touched glass upon the desk and rose to his feet, unable to remain seated under the implication that Miss Bennet was somehow insufficient to a man such as he. Why he felt this way he did not understand, for her condition in life was indeed decidedly below his own. He paced towards the window again, gathering his thoughts before turning back to his host. "Abernathy, I appreciate your candour, but I wish to continue the engagement."
Mr. Abernathy's eyebrows rose slightly, and a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Indeed?"
"Miss Bennet's position in life is of little consequence to me," Darcy continued, surprising himself with the truth of the statement. "Though I only met her last night, I have already been impressed by her spirit, her courage, and her wit. Tell me, is she always thus?”
The smile grew and Mr. Abernathy chuckled. "Yes."
"I believe such a woman as Miss Bennet could make an excellent mistress of Pemberley," he stated simply. “But I would like time to know her better.”
“The more time you spend engaged,” Abernathy warned, “the more difficult it will be to call off. And the harder Lizzy will try to get you to do just that.”
He almost smiled. “I understand.”
Mr. Abernathy nodded, his expression now decidedly pleased. "Well, then. In that case, I should like to offer my assistance rather than my doubts." He reached for a sheet of paper from his desk drawer. "Once I came into my inheritance, my wife and I immediately set aside monies to provide for Lizzy. Given her sentiments, we were concerned that she not feel obligated to marry a man who is not her equal. As she is like family to us, it seemed only proper. It is not substantial by the standards of your circle, but it would ensure she does not come to you entirely without fortune."
"That is unnecessary—" Darcy began, but Mr. Abernathy waved away his objection.
"It is essential, for the sake of appearances if nothing else. And it was decided long before you. More importantly, I offer my assistance in helping you secure her affections."
Darcy stared at him.
"Come now, Darcy," Mr. Abernathy said with unexpected directness. "I have known Elizabeth since she was a child. She is not a young woman to enter marriage merely because circumstance demands it. Indeed I know for certain she would never consider doing so."
“What do you mean?”
“Elizabeth has often said that if she cannot have mutual admiration and respect that she will not marry at all.”
Darcy felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. Had he read the situation incorrectly? He had already known her feelings about their situation from her behaviour the past evening, but there was a difference between hating the scandal and hatinghim. "She finds me truly objectionable?" That would change things.
"She would find any match made under such circumstances objectionable," Mr. Abernathy clarified. "She does notknowyou. But I also believe you might be precisely the sort of man whocouldwin her regard, given time and opportunity."
His own reading of the situation was not so far off the mark, then. Darcy returned to his seat and reached for his neglected glass of brandy. "What makes you say so?"
"Elizabeth values cleverness, honesty, and integrity. From all I have observed and heard of you these past two years, you possess these qualities in abundance." Mr. Abernathy leaned back in his chair. "She also despises pretension and values genuine character over rank or fortune."
"Many would say I embody pretension," Darcy remarked. He certainly lacked the charm of his cousin Fitzwilliam or even the amiability of his good friend Charles Bingley; indeed, he was forever giving offence. Yet he could not help but feel offended in turn when he observed how many sought his acquaintance solely due to his fortune. His cool manner in public was a necessary sort of armour.
He was not an effusive man. He was astrategicone. That was his strength.
"Perhaps you appear so to those who do not know you well," Mr. Abernathy allowed. "But I have seen how you treat those in your employ, how you speak of your sister and your estate. Those are the truer measures of a man's character, not his behaviour in a crowded ballroom when surrounded by strangers."
