Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) (25 page)

“Indeed, Mr. Bennet does sound a
wiser choice,” Darcy agreed, sincerely meaning it for a host of reasons. “Aware
as I am of Mr. Gardiner’s professionalism and connections and Mrs. Gardiner’s
fine taste, I trust they will excellently fulfill your needs. Bear in mind that
Bingley and I are residents of London as well. If there are any specific items either
of you ladies require or want, enlighten us and we can more than likely point
you in the right direction or acquire it for you.”

“Oh yes! Absolutely! Say the word,
dear Jane, and it shall be yours! Anything at all!”

At Bingley’s ardent promise, Jane
flushed and stared into her lap. Lizzy’s eyes widened and darted to Darcy. For
a moment he could not understand their reactions. Then it hit him. Long used to
living within the modest means Mr. Bennet was able to provide, the concept of
another substantially wealthier man buying, almost literally, anything they
might desire was foreign and uncomfortable. Moreover, he gleaned they were
embarrassed over either gentleman presuming the innocent topic was a devious
ploy to acquire costly baubles.

Marrying advantageously was nothing
to be ashamed of. Men, as well as women, were expected to obtain mates with
prospective benefits as the impetus. The majority of people probably did
presume the Bennet sisters had chosen Darcy and Bingley based on their wealth,
without casting a negative aspersion upon them for doing so. It was wise for a
woman to secure a stable future and better her place in society in the process
if able. Neither Darcy nor Bingley would have condemned Lizzy and Jane if good
sense influenced their decision.

Nevertheless, the joy in being
accepted for their character and personality, to be loved as men rather than a
name or bank account balance, was a priceless gift. Privately, they had spoken
of this blessed reality, both men humbled by their great fortune. They were
also thankful to be capable of ensuring the women they loved would forever be financially
secure. Furnishing them with trinkets and finery was merely a bonus they
hungered to do.

Darcy and Bingley shared a
comprehensive glance as they silently considered how best to defuse the awkward
tension and reassure their fiancées. Unfortunately, Caroline rallied first.

“How happy you must now be, Jane
dear, and you as well, Miss Eliza, to have your whims and fancies eagerly
fulfilled. Ensnaring rich gentlemen has such delightful perks, does it not? But
of course, this is surely not a revelation to either of you.” Caroline smiled
her standard cold smirk and glanced from her brother to Darcy, one brow raised
and an obvious,
Did I not tell you they were opportunists, stupid men?
message written on her face.

“Caroline—” Bingley began in
a strained tone but was interrupted by Lizzy.

Ignoring Caroline, she lifted her
chin and looked directly at the two men, “You are kind, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy.
I know I speak for Jane when I say that we appreciate your offers in
recognition of the generous spirit they were extended. However, for the present,
we are content to trust Mr. Bennet’s excellent provision, as we have for over
twenty years. We want for nothing and never have; thus we are confident that
whatever we require for the wedding and entrance into the matrimonial state
will be procured sufficiently.”

“The only fancy I have ever been
eager to have fulfilled is mutual regard and affection with a worthy gentlemen.”
Jane smiled demurely at Bingley. “In this alone, I am richer than a queen. The
costliest object imaginable is worthless in comparison.”

Bingley beamed.

Caroline huffed. 

“As always, my sister expresses
with poetic phrases superior to what I can manage,” Lizzy laughingly
proclaimed. Gazing playfully at Darcy, she qualified, “I would have said that
my fancy was for a man to argue with, provided he allow me to win at least some
of the time. And if he is an adequate dancer and with faults I can tease him
about, then I am indeed rich beyond measure.”

After that, Caroline retreated back
into her sulkiness, saying little, and excused herself when the men returned to
a previous chess match while Lizzy and Jane chatted softly over their
needlework. Jane was the only one who acknowledged Caroline’s comment, nodding
her head and smiling pleasantly until she was gone. A drizzling rain had begun,
but the fire-lit parlor was cozy, and the foursome contentedly settled into the
domestic interlude.

It was nearly four when a footman
entered the room, quietly crossing to the chessboard and delivering the day’s
post. Bingley’s bundle consisted of three or four envelopes and one small
package. He rifled through the letters, not opening any of them, and with a
surreptitious glance toward Jane, who was intent on her embroidery hoop, shoved
the package into his pocket.

Darcy’s stack was thick, one bunch
of envelopes tied together with twine. Like Bingley, Darcy flipped through the
stack. He smiled at the second missive, that being from Georgiana, and
hesitated. Deciding to wait and read it with Elizabeth, he pulled out the tied
group. As suspected, these were from his solicitor, Mr. Daniels. Some, he knew,
would pertain to various estate business matters and the monthly financial
updates. The rest would be the betrothal settlement documents. All of them
meant one thing: he could no longer delay a trip to London. It had been
inevitable, of course, yet he still frowned as he resumed his survey of the
mail.

One letter was from Mrs. Reynolds,
quite thick, so hopefully containing the requested information vital to begin
shopping for his bride. A slim, dirty envelope came from Colonel Fitzwilliam,
who Darcy prayed was announcing his imminent return to London. The larger
envelope, with multiple stamps and markings indicating the long distance
traveled, Darcy recognized as from his Uncle George even before looking at the
scrawling penmanship. The last was a letter from Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

At the latter, his frown increased.
In no hurry to deal with his aunt, he had waited to write her of his
engagement, doing so only four days ago. His letter had been formal and as
unemotional as possible. He had reiterated his condemnation of her
inappropriate abuse of Elizabeth Bennet, and clarified that her presence at
their wedding was not desired. Knowing his aunt well, Darcy had anticipated a
rebuttal, just not so soon.

Darcy broke the seal and started
reading. By the end of the first page, anger blinded him and erased the
awareness of where he was. Bolting up from his chair, a vile curse passed his
lips, and rage jerked him into motion as he stormed out of the room.
Incoherently desperate for solitude to deal with his wrath, he made for the
library. Once there, he paced and read.

…Tragically wrong I have been to
esteem you highly. You are selfish, Darcy. A spineless, weak fool enslaved to
base whims and pathetic desires. Blinded to the consequences of your actions
and irresponsible to your birthright…Infinitely unworthy of the revered Darcy
name, and now a black mark on an ancient, respected house. The woe that shall
fall upon Pemberley with this horrendous marriage is too catastrophic to fathom…Callously
tossing aside Anne, whom you claimed to love and promised security, abandoning her
to spinsterhood and a shattered heart…I beg God’s forgiveness while also
thanking Him for taking your sainted parents from this earth before they could
witness this unspeakable degradation. My dear, beloved Anne, who desired with
all her heart to see our great houses merged, has been betrayed and her memory
tainted by her only son’s selfish choice…

Appalling! Damnable! The future
forfeited by marrying a woman of low circumstances. How can you not see, Darcy?
This scheming, sharp-tongued, classless girl as Mrs. Darcy? Oh, how it pains
me! Elizabeth Bennet lacks beauty or grace, is devoid of style or wit, is uneducated,
crass, and unaccomplished! This is to be the next Mistress of Pemberley? And
Georgiana’s sister? Mark my words, Nephew, you will regret your decision in
short order, Pemberley crumbling into a hovel while you escape the prison of a
hellish union by living in Town…

On and on she ranted, using
different words to repeat the same dire prophecies and vicious attacks toward
him and Elizabeth. He saw nothing humorous in the three-page harangue, other
than a commendable command of adjectives, and that was insufficient in
overcoming his fury. References to his parents’ shame and Anne’s tragedy were
easily disregarded, since he knew those claims were blatant falsehoods.

The reminder that his parents were
gone, and therefore unable to be present at his wedding, caused the greatest
pain. At the same time, it strengthened him. Darcy was absolutely certain his
father and mother would have adored Elizabeth and rejoiced in his choice of
wife. Knowing how utterly wrong Lady Catherine was on this count, and
irrational to assert her knowledge of James and Anne Darcy was greater than
his, revealed how preposterous all her opinions.

Insane claims of woe and calamity
were almost too laughable to be angry over. The slurs against his character he
was far too self-confident to warrant, but it did hurt to have kin demean him
so vociferously. This letter proved how dismal the prospect of repairing the
rift, and his sadness blended with his animosity.

As horrid as the rest, worse were
the rabid attacks against Elizabeth. In his heart, she was his wife, and thus
his responsibility to protect and defend. A gentleman of honor did not allow
anyone
to harm the people placed under his care. The feeling of impotence in this
situation was galling. Sightlessly, he stared out the rain-splattered window,
fighting to calm the tense fury suffusing his entire body.

His head began to pound, the
hammering rhythm ringing in his ears so that he heard nothing else. The gentle
pressure on his arm might as well have been a fisted punch in his heightened
state. Darcy jolted in surprise, swinging his glower to the offending
interrupter.

It was Elizabeth, and clearly his
thunderous expression alarmed her. Flinching, she stepped back a half pace, and
a flicker of remorse shot through him. Immediately it was gone, swallowed by
his rage.

“Leave me be, Elizabeth,” he
commanded flatly.

“No. Talk to me, William.”

Darcy was flabbergasted at her
direct refusal. No one dared ignore his orders—ever—especially when
he was speaking in his authoritative voice. Yet there she was, petite hand
lightly squeezing his arm, eyes tender and determined at the same time, and
face boldly lifted toward his. She was so small and frail compared to him, but
he had the distinct impression that he would fail if he tried to throw her over
his shoulder and toss her out of the room.

He clenched his jaw and turned back
to the window. Fluttering the letter in the air, he snapped, “My aunt is not
pleased about our engagement.”

Well, there’s a massive
understatement!

Astoundingly, Elizabeth started
laughing.

“I find no humor in this,
Elizabeth,” Darcy snarled.

“Really, William! Did you imagine
she would embrace me with open arms and host a party? Lady Catherine made her
opinion of me quite clear at Longbourn, an event that we should essentially be
thankful for since, left to your own devices, you may not have gotten up the
nerve to propose again.” She said the last bit teasingly and rose onto her toes
to kiss one cheek while caressing the other.

Darcy was torn between crushing her
into his arms and lashing out by reading the contents of the letter. Neither
was a sensible option. Growling in frustration, he stomped several paces away.
He needed the distance, and time, to gain control over his tumultuous emotions.

“William, I am indifferent to what
your aunt has to say about me, or us. I love you with all my heart, and you
love me. She cannot alter that, can she?”

“Of course not!” he choked.

“Then there is nothing to fear.
Lady Catherine is angry at her dashed hopes for you and Anne. I am not a mother
yet, but I can partly sympathize. It in no way justifies her actions or words,
but you must try to understand a little.”

He gripped the wooden edge of a
chair back, jutting his jaw and frowning. “Elizabeth, it is more than that. She
slandered you personally, your character and virtue and qualifications as my
intended. This I cannot forgive!”

Deliberately stepping toward him,
she whispered, “Did you not initially doubt my qualifications and connections,
beloved?”

Darcy felt the blood drain from his
face and his mouth drop open. Vaguely, he registered her calling him
beloved
.
The wondrous development of hearing her first such endearment was sadly unable
to offset the flood of shame and regret weakening every muscle in his body. For
perhaps the first time, he fully comprehended how she felt during his offensive
proposal in April.

Before he drowned in pain and
guilt, she closed the gap between them. Then she cupped his face with her warm
hands and her glorious eyes were inches away, staring intently into his.

“The difference, my dear William,
is that
now
you know my character and virtue. The only truth that
matters is you and I, and our love. The rest will be resolved, or it will not,
but it is inconsequential as long as we are unified in our commitment.”

As swiftly as it came, his anger,
shame, pain, and guilt evaporated. Elizabeth was correct. Only the truth of
their love mattered.

Only she matters—nothing
and no one else.

Darcy released a cleansing exhale
and enfolded her in his arms. Resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, “How
are you so wise, my love, for one so young?”

She smiled impishly and kissed him.
“It is a secret, Mr. Darcy. You cannot expect a girl to reveal herself too
soon. Then where would the mystery be?”