His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (27 page)

Georgiana turned pink, but her smile did not falter. "I do not know that it is a very great favor," she protested, and they all laughed. "I simply wondered, Brother, if we might leave soon for Pemberley."

Richard reached over and tugged on one of her curls. "She will not even let us rest for a night before she would send us across the countryside."

Georgiana looked down at the floor. "Of course, we may wait until you are refreshed after your trip to Kent. I only thought... It is April and you said..." She looked at Darcy uncertainly.

"You are quite correct, Georgiana--I did say we would return home in April. I shall speak with Mrs. Grigsby about closing... No, you and Mrs. Annesley should speak with her. I am sure Mrs. Annesley knows what steps need to be taken when closing a house for a few months."
It is time I started passing some of these domestic tasks on to Georgiana,
he thought.

She recognized the import of what he said and blanched, but she quickly rallied. "Yes, of course. We shall speak with her tomorrow."

Darcy turned to his cousin. "Well, Richard, will you return to Derbyshire with us?"

It was a loaded question. The Fitzwilliam family seat was quite near Pemberley, and Richard could not travel with them without visiting his parents. Darcy loved his aunt and uncle, but he knew Richard struggled with his overprotective parents and overbearing elder siblings. In fact, Darcy rather suspected he joined the Army in part to escape their control.

But the colonel nodded gamely. "I have not seen my family since last summer." He pitched his voice to a falsetto and added, "I imagine my mama doubts I am still alive."

All three cousins laughed at his apt imitation of the countess, and then Darcy said, "It is settled then. We shall leave town as soon as possible."

With this incentive, Georgiana lost little time in dealing with household matters, and they were packed into the carriage traveling north by the end of the week. The trip from London took just over two days by carriage, and by the time they reached Pemberley in the afternoon of the third day, they were all very glad to be finally at home. Georgiana craned her neck out the window to catch the first glimpse of Pemberley as they rounded the bend in the road, and in truth, Darcy was no less eager. Only Richard reclined back against his seat.

Late evening sunlight filtered through the trees.
How long has it been since I felt so much at ease?
The answer came readily, and with it the end of his peace: it had been ten days, since the eve of his disastrous proposal.

Richard left the following morning for the Fitzwilliam family seat near Matlock, and Darcy, in desperate need of distraction, threw himself into the affairs of his own estate. In consequence of his lengthy absences over the last year, there were many things that had been left unattended to.

Nothing, however, could drive Elizabeth from his mind. With every task he completed, he was conscious of how much easier or pleasanter it would have been with her by his side.

When he walked the estate with his steward, he remembered Georgiana commenting that he needed a wife who could walk with him, and he thought again of Elizabeth and the walks they had shared in Kent. How he had looked forward then to showing her the grounds of Pemberley and his favorite walks through the park! Those spots he had loved all his life lacked luster, now that he saw them without Elizabeth.

Not long after his return to Pemberley, one of his best tenants celebrated the birth of his first child. By rights, the mistress of the estate would visit the family--but Pemberley had no mistress.

When Darcy appeared on the Coombs' doorstep, the man could not hide his surprise. "Mr. Darcy!"

"Good day, Coombs. I hear your wife has provided you with a son."

Coombs snapped his gaping mouth shut and swallowed. "Yes, sir. That is... Well, yes, sir. May I ask, sir, why you are here?"

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "I should think that obvious, Coombs. I came to congratulate you."

Coombs nodded slowly. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. Would you like to come in and see James?"

Darcy took his hat off and followed Coombs into the cottage. Mrs. Coombs smiled up at him when he entered. "Mr. Darcy, this is such a surprise!"

He looked at her, then back at her husband.
Why are they both so shocked to see me pay this form of courtesy?

Before he could think any more on the question, a babe was thrust into his arms. "This is our James--isn't he the sweetest lad you ever did see?"

Darcy held the child six inches out from his chest, and when James yawned and stretched, he panicked.
Please do not wake.
But young James had not yet learnt that the master of Pemberley was always to be obeyed, and the tiny eyes opened. On beholding an unfamiliar face, his mouth opened in a wail that would have scared years off the life of a grown man, had he not known where it originated.

Mrs. Coombs bustled over and took her child back into the comfort of her arms, "There, there, Jamesey--Mama's here. You aren't afraid of Mr. Darcy, are you?"

Darcy watched in wonder as the child immediately quieted and settled back to sleep. Never had he been more aware of his own awkwardness, or longed more for Elizabeth's ease of manner.

The incident did not quickly leave his thoughts. Late into the evening he pondered it, always coming back to one thing: his own tenants, who knew him to be a generous landlord, had been surprised when he also showed them courtesy.

"Your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance..."

Was there truth in her words? Did he look down on those he saw as beneath him and not treat them with the same kindness he treated those of his own class?

Darcy paced the length of his study, an empty brandy glass in his hand.
How do my fellow landowners see me? Would they be likewise surprised to receive a note from me on the birth or marriage of one of their offspring?
The answer came in an instant--they would not. Those common forms of politeness were
de rigueur
among the upper class.

Am I then so caught up with social standing that I cannot offer simple congratulations to a family without it being a noteworthy event? Was Elizabeth so right about me?

Darcy had long acknowledged he had not the ease or openness of manner that many did. Of course he had pride in his family and his land, but he had never taken the time to consider how that was presented to others. In truth, he had never cared enough for the opinion of others to care how they saw him, but now he wondered if it was more than how he appeared.
Am I truly prideful?

Over the next few weeks, he examined his interactions with all he met: staff, tenant, and landowner alike. What was his first response in all of these situations? Was it one of habitual pride? Did he consider himself so far above even his friends? Were Elizabeth's accusations true?

Such self-examination is never a pleasant course of study, and therefore, Richard's return in late May was welcome for the diversion it offered. "Did you grow tired of your family so soon?" Darcy teased when they were seated in the study.

The late evening sun shone on Richard's face, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes. "You have no idea," he said, his face pulled into a grimace. "My dear mama had a list of eligible young ladies waiting when I arrived. Take heart, Cousin, that you have no parents trying to marry you off."

Darcy flinched and Richard groaned. "Oh Lord, William, I did not think. I did not mean --"

Darcy held up his hand. "I assure you," he said harshly, "I quite took your meaning. However, I cannot see how facing a list of women you do not wish to marry is any worse than being refused by the woman you do!"

"I put my foot in it this time." Richard rubbed a hand across his face, but Darcy quashed any feelings of sympathy.

Richard opened a cautious eye. "As long as I am in your black books already, may I say that I admire the lady for rejecting you? It would certainly have been an advantageous marriage, not only for her, but also for her sisters. For one to marry a wealthy man would have opened the door to others."

Darcy snorted. "Careful, you begin to sound like Mrs. Bennet. She expressed very similar sentiments when complimenting herself on snaring Bingley for her eldest."

Richard furrowed his brow. "I beg your pardon?"

"I told you of Bingley's close escape while we were on the road to Rosings--do you recall?" Richard nodded. "The lady he nearly married is Elizabeth's elder sister."

Darcy did not understand the comprehension that dawned on his cousin's face. "I am afraid," Richard said very slowly, "that you might owe part of your current misery to me."

Darcy rose from his seat and poured them both a brandy. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked when he handed Richard a glass.

His cousin took a sip of the liquor before he answered. "When I spoke with Miss Bennet the morning before you proposed, I spoke of the role you played in separating Bingley from an undesirable connection. I did not know the lady in question was her sister."

Darcy's free hand clenched into a fist, but he forced himself to relax.
Richard had no way of knowing,
he reminded himself. "It is no matter," he said when the flush of indignation had passed. "That was merely the last in her list of complaints against me."

Darcy stood by the window and observed the way the sunlight reflected through the brandy. The shifting amber hues at least gave him something besides Richard's guilty countenance to look at.

"You know Darcy," Richard said, and Darcy turned back to him, "it strikes me as odd that you would not consider the Bennet family to be suitable connections for Bingley, if you did not scruple to pursue Miss Bennet for yourself."

Darcy froze, his brandy glass raised halfway to his lips.
"Though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally seem insufficient, I have not yet learned to condemn them."

The words from his letter taunted him. With Richard's comment, he could see them as they might have appeared to Elizabeth, and he sat back down and groaned.
My pride, my insufferable pride.

"William?"

Darcy looked up, almost surprised to see Richard still sitting across from him. "I am fine, it is only..." He tilted his head. "You were not sure I had done rightly by Bingley when I told you of my involvement, were you?"

Richard shrugged. "It shows a certain lack of consideration --"

"For the feelings of others," Darcy completed, now completely numb.

Oh God, could Elizabeth have been right? Am I so conceited, so sure my own judgment is always correct that I disregard what others might feel?

Richard set his glass down on the small table between them, and the loud clink startled Darcy. "You appear to have a great deal on your mind, William. I believe I will turn in for the night." He turned back when he reached the door. "Do not stay up the whole night, going over and over what she said. It is done--leave it at that."

But Darcy could not.
"Do you think any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?"

"And I treated her accusation with contempt." Darcy stood and paced the room, stopping now and again to look out at the park. "I might by now have shown Pemberley to Elizabeth, had I not been so full of vanity."

He sank into a chair near the window, where he could watch as the setting sun sent reflections of pinks and golds dancing across the stream. The picture tugged at his memory, and he followed the string until he saw Elizabeth standing before the brook at Rosings just after sunrise.

Lovely as the image was, he could not think of it without likewise remembering he had then believed her to return his affections to some extent, if not in equal measure. "Indeed, I went to Hunsford that night believing her to be expecting my addresses. Could there be a stronger sign of arrogance?"

All thoughts of Wickham were now gone. Darcy had for a time laid the greatest share of his sorrow at his enemy's feet--for surely, if Wickham had not deceived Elizabeth, she would have accepted him.

He snorted. "And yet again I disregarded her feelings, this time concerning Miss Bennet. Ah Elizabeth, how truly you named my faults, though I would not listen."

The knowledge that there would be no second chance lingered in the back of his mind, but he pushed the thought aside.
I may never meet Elizabeth again, but I can honor her by taking her remonstrations to heart
.

Darcy was even more grateful than usual to be at Pemberley. Given his recent revelations, he knew he would be very bad company. Even Richard did not stay long, but returned to his London lodgings after only a week.

Now his only company was Georgiana, and for the first time, he selfishly wished she were elsewhere. He had not the energy to entertain her, and he could tell by her confusion each night that she wondered at his low spirits.