A Spring Sentiment: A Pride and Prejudice Novella Variation (Seasons of Serendipity Book 2) (14 page)

“Oh, Mr. Darcy, I’m not so sure about that. Kitty has never been too keen to learn. . .”

“That was before, Lizzie, but she’s changed. She has greatly improved her mind with writing, and I’m certain she would relish the opportunity to learn more.” Mary spoke up.

“Then it’s settled. I shall send a note this afternoon to have her packed and sent to Darcy House.” Lady Matlock beamed at her growing little family at the table.

“There’s no need, milady. I will share the invitation when I return.” Jane smiled and received a glowing smile in return.

After the refreshments were enjoyed, the parties separated with Mr. Darcy offering Jane a ride home in his carriage, which she readily accepted. It was the one time Elizabeth found herself to be slightly jealous of her sister.

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While most of the household rested for a night out at the ball held by the Cornish family, Elizabeth had escaped to the library to find a prayer book. She was not very far when she was joined in the library by the Earl.

“My lord,” she curtsied as she saw him enter.

“Can we dispense with all this curtsying? I am to be your uncle, my dear. How about Uncle Reginald when it’s just family, eh? We don’t use the Fitzwilliam name for obvious reasons . . .,” he said with a smirk. Reginald Fitzwilliam walked to his future niece and took her by both hands and squeezed them. “I must give you thanks for all of the time and energy you have bestowed upon my wife. Did she ever tell you that we had three daughters?”

Elizabeth looked perplexed. She had only heard of the Viscount, who was away until the engagement ball to oversee planting at Matlock, and the colonel. “I don’t understand my lo- Uncle Reginald.”

“All perished in 1798, much like your papa more recently. It was a sudden fever, all of the children had it. We prayed and prayed, but only our eldest boys survived.” Lord Matlock looked to a painting on the far wall that clearly showed three young girls playing on a swing. “My oldest, Anne Marie, would have been twenty-two this year.”

“I’m so very sorry you lost your daughters.”

Inhaling through his nose, the Earl seemed to get his emotions under better regulation and took a look at the book in Elizabeth’s hands. “And here I am interrupting your prayers. Forgive me. . .,” He nodded and turned to walk away, but Elizabeth stopped him.

“Please don’t leave. I confess I was not praying.”

“Oh?” the Earl was intrigued. “Is that not what most persons do with a prayer book?”

Elizabeth giggled, reminded of how her father would have questioned her silliness. “Yes, sir, but I am here for a much more selfish reason.” The Earl motioned for her to continue. “I have never been to an actual wedding, and I wished to read the ceremony so that I might be familiar with the proceedings. I would hate to embarrass William or Lady Matlock by stumbling through my own.”

The Earl laughed, a deep belly laugh, and Elizabeth found the sentiment contagious. “My dear, my dear, I have sat through enough stuffy, high society weddings to last a lifetime! Why, in the months of July and August, there seem to be two or three a week! I shall be happy to walk you through the ceremony.”

And so the Earl explained to Elizabeth all of the finer, salient points of the ceremony and played the vicar’s role in asking her to recite her vows. Once they were finished, Elizabeth thanked him for all of his assistance and was ready to retire to her room when the Earl asked her one last question.

“Miss Elizabeth, I know you might not have thought about this, but with your uncle bedridden, had you considered who would walk you down the aisle?”

An intense wave of melancholy washed over Elizabeth’s heart, and the temporary jubilation she felt from laughing and learning with the Earl disappeared. She had thought to simply walk herself to William when the time came, without her father, what else was to be done, and she told the Earl such. He held up his hand. “I respect your wishes, and certainly understand if that is what you still choose, but after all that I have heard and witnessed of your spirit and candor, I would be truly honored to walk you down the aisle to marry my nephew.”

Tears sprung to Elizabeth’s eyes, and without a second thought she bounded up and tackled poor Lord Matlock with a hug. “Dear, dear, careful with these old bones.”

Wiping her eyes, she beamed at the man. “I would love to have your escort, sir.” And she curtsied low.

“Now, now, we dispensed with that.”

“I know, but you deserved it.” Elizabeth gave him a minxish smile before leaving the study, prayer book in tow so she could study her lines some more. As the door closed, Reginald Fitzwilliam took one more look at his girls on the wall and thanked God in heaven for bringing his family young ladies who needed them.

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By the night of the opening for
Hamlet
, poor Jane was weary and wrecked. Her mother had not tarried long behind Lydia. All of the Gardiner household was in an uproar. Despite her best intentions, she was at a loss to control both her mother and Lydia and their demands on the household staff while Mrs. Gardiner was increasing and Mr. Gardiner still recuperated. That the engagement ball was only two nights away, and the wedding the following morning, tonight’s event was the one of the last she would have to endure, then she would find a safe place to keep Lydia.

As the Darcy carriage arrived, Jane tried to leave right away, but Elizabeth rushed into the household against Jane’s wishes. “I want Aunt to see my dress! I promised her. . .” but Elizabeth’s jaw dropped as soon as she reached the foyer to see a very plump Lydia in the drawing room with her mother.

“Oh, Lizzie, what jewels! Did Mr. Darcy give them to you? Oh, I just knew he would be so kind. Ever so kind!” Mrs. Bennet rushed from her chair and approached Elizabeth to touch the large canary diamond hanging around her neck. Behind her, Mr. Darcy entered the home and stepped back as it appeared Mrs. Bennet was rushing right at them, and then he too spied the horror.

“Wickham” he hissed, causing Elizabeth to turn her head, almost yanking her necklace out of her mother’s hands.

“Come now, we must not be late. The show begins soon. Mother, I will be sure to tell you all when I return.”
Jane rushed them out the door.

“It’s not fair! Kitty gets to go! Mama, make them take me with.”

“Sssshhh, Lyddie, darling. Mama needs you to stay and play some cards. Yes, I would love a good game of gin.” Mrs. Bennet turned to tend to her youngest daughter while the older daughters and Mr. Darcy made their escape.

“How could you? This is what you have been hiding! I knew you had a secret.” Elizabeth’s anger pierced Jane’s heart as she began to cry. “Don’t give me your tears, I know how to work a good cry, too. This is vile, Jane!”

“I know! I know! But you and Mr. Darcy were so happy. . . and I couldn’t . . .”

“Ladies, perchance we could discuss this in the carriage?” Darcy’s voice was flat, and a stab of fear gripped Elizabeth’s heart. What if he cancelled their wedding now that Lydia was carrying Wickham’s bastard child? Seeming to interpret Elizabeth’s thoughts, Mr. Darcy squeezed her hand as he saw her into the carriage. “I will never abandon you,” was all he said, but it was enough.

Once settled in the carriage and thankful that Mary had ridden with the Matlocks, Elizabeth began her inquisition again. “How long have you known? Since Uncle was injured?”

“No, no, but well, now I know there were signs even back when you and Mr. Darcy were still in the neighborhood. It wasn’t until the babe moved that Lydia took the post to London, the same day you left for the Matlocks.”

Darcy groaned at the intelligence of how far along the development was as his plan to marry Lydia off flew out the window. “Who else is aware of your sister’s condition?”

Jane bit her lip. “The Gardiners and Mama. And also your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“Richard knows of this?”

Jane nodded. “He was looking for Mr. Wickham, and after you were married, he was going to help me find a country home where Lydia and I can raise the baby.”

“And you didn’t tell me and William because you feared he would call off the wedding,” Elizabeth finished.

“Not exactly,” Jane looked to an affronted Mr. Darcy. “I never thought Mr. Darcy would give you up, but I was afraid the wedding might be postponed on account of Lydia, and you both were so happy. I am the oldest. It was my responsibility to handle it.”

Looking at the two sisters, Darcy had to admit he was impressed. Most ladies of the ton would be crying hysterically, but here were two ladies using cool and calm logic to handle their problems. He took a deep breath as he noticed they were nearing the theater. “Ladies, it’s time we put on a brave face, or the vultures out there will sniff something is amiss. Jane, I must say you did an admirable job in trying to protect your family.”

Jane smiled and sat up a little straighter on the bench she shared with Elizabeth. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Please, call me Jane.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, Mr. Darcy gave his future sister-in-law a rare show of his dimpled smile. It was short lived though as he donned his mask of indifference the second the carriage door opened. As he handed Elizabeth out of the carriage after assisting Jane, he made sure to scrunch his nose, causing his beloved to laugh. It was just the kind of arrival that the mavens of London society expected to see of a love match, and only the truly vicious members with an axe to grind against Lady Matlock continued their scrutiny for cracks in the veneer.

By the time the couple of the evening made it to the Matlock box, Elizabeth’s hand ached from so many introductions. If she had to say “How do you do?” or answer that her father had owned a small estate in Hertfordshire but had passed last fall one more time, she was going to start yanking headpieces and stomping on slippers. Taking a calming breath, she steadied her nerves as Kitty and Georgiana began pointing and whispering next to her.

“Girls, what is it? You do realize all in the theater can see us?” The two young girls suddenly froze, becoming extremely self-conscious as the truth of Elizabeth’s words sunk in.

“Mr. Bingley sits over there with two women and not by his sister. She is sitting with that charming fellow, laughing, and touching his arm all over.” Kitty handed Elizabeth her theater glasses so she could see. Stunned, Elizabeth indeed saw Mr. Bingley openly entertaining two women she had yet to meet, but recalled seeing at the Matlocks’ Twelfth Night Ball. Frantic, she turned her head to look at Jane sitting one seat over, only to get a close up of her older sister already looking at the box across from them with her own spectacles.

“Jane, . . .” Elizabeth started, but Mr. Darcy returned with the refreshments, and the lights darkened in the house.

“What is the matter?” Darcy whispered. Elizabeth exchanged the refreshments for the opera glasses and told him to look at Bingley in the box across the way. A small curse could be heard under his breath.

“Jane,” he whispered, “this is my fault, and I feel beastly. I never told Charles we were attending the theater tonight.”

“Mr. Darcy, Charles invited me to this performance the day Lydia arrived. I never gave an answer. That he has found other friends to enjoy the performance, I am happy. Please, make nothing of this.”

As Elizabeth could hear the words coming out of Jane’s mouth, she also could hear the intense sorrow behind each syllable. If she had the strength to lob something hard across the playhouse and hit Mr. Bingley in the head, he’d be enjoying an intense headache at the moment. But she wasn’t eight years old anymore when she could throw rocks at the boys being mean to Jane. Between Lydia and now Bingley, the night was completely ruined, and she had so wished to enjoy this play. The only relief she had was watching Georgiana and Kitty, giddy with excitement, oblivious to the very real threats to their family’s good standing.

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Chapter Thirteen

The engagement ball of Fitzwilliam Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet was the social event of the Season thus far. Every room in the Matlock townhouse seemed to burst at the seams as everyone who knew anyone had weaseled their way in. Of course, Lady Matlock had instructed the footmen to stop checking the guest list after supper so that all might see the future Mrs. Darcy in all of her splendor. As far as ladies were concerned, a ballroom was a battlefield, and Margaret Elizabeth Fitzwilliam took no prisoners.

Elizabeth enjoyed her second dance with Mr. Darcy, having danced the supper set with his cousin the Viscount. Both Elizabeth and Darcy had complained about this ploy by his aunt, but she was adamant that Elizabeth receive proper attention by all of the titled men in the room. Eventually, both had given up their arguments.

As the couples grew close for a part of the dance, Lady Carrigan stood gossiping with Caroline Bingley, who when not gaining a request to dance after the second set had claimed an ankle injury and was lounging on a sofa against the wall.

“I say, what is that vulgar thing they are doing with their noses?” Lady Amelia Carrigan sniffed the air and pursed her lips.

“It’s probably that Bennet chit’s fault. Her entire family is vulgar, and she’s used her arts and allurements to pervert poor Mr. Darcy.” Caroline Bingley scowled, wishing she could stand up and survey the dancers, but she couldn’t give up the ruse of her ankle injury. “When we were in Hertfordshire, did you know that all five of the sisters are out?”