To Conquer Mr. Darcy (28 page)

Read To Conquer Mr. Darcy Online

Authors: Abigail Reynolds

BOOK: To Conquer Mr. Darcy
7.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Elizabeth was apparently not the only one who found the situation difficult to bear, as Wilkins, who had been standing quietly with his eyes on the floor up until this time, cleared his throat and said pointedly, “Mrs. Darcy, I believe that it is time that we returned below.”

Not trusting herself to say a word, Elizabeth swept out of the room, leaving behind her a confused Lydia, who after a moment shrugged at what obviously must have been a mistake on the part of the servant.

The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind after this interview was great, and she paused for a moment on the stairs, feeling unequal to encountering Wickham while in such an agitated state. A few deep breaths were enough to restore her composure, though not without a resolution, having seen the circumstances, to support Colonel Fitzwilliam in whatever stratagem he might devise.

She entered the tiny sitting room to find Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“So, together with paying your debts, and the amount settled on Miss Bennet, that would bring the total to over twelve thousand pounds. That is preposterous, Wickham! I begin to think that this is a waste of my time. I could purchase the lady a
respectable
husband for half that amount,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with scorn.

Wickham turned his most amiable countenance on Elizabeth, clearly anticipating that she would do whatever necessary to procure her sister’s marriage to him. “Mrs. Darcy, we are having some difficulty reaching an understanding here. Perhaps your gentle influence might be of assistance,” he said with a charming smile.

Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry by the moment as she approached the colonel. “She is completely unrepentant,” she said in a low voice. “I would rather spend a few thousand pounds to dower Mary and Kitty to counteract the effects of this scandal on their chances of marrying, and leave Lydia to her own devices.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to her. “You cannot seriously be proposing that we leave your sister in these straits? Wickham will abandon her, you know, and more likely sooner than later.”

Elizabeth leveled on him the kind of withering stare she had seen Darcy use with great effect. “While I would
prefer
not to do so, there is a limit to how much of
my
children’s inheritance I am willing to waste to rescue Lydia from her own folly!”

Looking unperturbed, Colonel Fitzwilliam suggested that she might be more comfortable waiting in the coach. Elizabeth accepted the opportunity to take her leave. No sooner was she safely ensconced in the privacy of the coach, however, than she gave in to distress over her sister’s hopeless predicament. Clearly Wickham would be willing to marry her once the proper price was negotiated, but what kind of life could Lydia ever expect to have with him? She would not have thought it possible for her opinion of Wickham to fall, but she was forced to admit that she had not expected such assurance from him, and she resolved within herself to draw no limits in future to the impudence of an impudent man.

It was not long until Colonel Fitzwilliam joined her, and they lost no time in quitting the disreputable quarter in which they found themselves. No sooner had they pulled away than Colonel Fitzwilliam said with admiration in his voice, “Madam, I must recall never to be on the wrong side of a dispute with you! For someone who was concerned about misrepresenting herself, that was rather brilliant improvisation, if I may say so.”

She smiled ruefully. “You give me too much credit, sir. I fear that when I am angered beyond reason I tend to make comments that I would not otherwise, and in this case I simply gave myself free rein to do so.” She thought with some amusement that Darcy would have recognized her performance from the Hunsford parsonage; she had said some equally egregious and intemperate things that day. She wondered what report Wilkins would give to his master on the events of the day.

“Well, it may have turned the trick. He was much more reasonable in his demands at the end, and I expect that once we have let him worry over it for a day, it might improve still more,” he said with satisfaction.

When they returned, it was obvious that Darcy had been waiting impatiently for them. That he had been worried about her was apparent from the fact that he took her in his arms in front of the colonel and held her tightly, his cheek resting against her hair. Although the impropriety of the situation made Elizabeth uncomfortable, she was beginning to learn that it was best to let Darcy have the reassurance he needed, however unreasonable it might seem.

“How did it go?” Darcy inquired of Colonel Fitzwilliam when he finally released Elizabeth.

“Well enough, I would say. He was surprised to see me instead of you, but was willing enough to state his price, which naturally was ridiculously high. Fortunately for us, he is apparently in severe financial straits, and not likely to refuse immediate relief. I did not have a great deal of luck in arguing him down until your lovely wife was rather forthright in her opinions of the matter. By the end, he was down to demanding payment of his debts, which he claims to amount to nearly a thousand pounds—though I will personally be surprised if it is that low—his commission purchased, and three thousand pounds for him. I counter offered to pay the debts up to a total of two thousand pounds, the commission, and to settle another thousand pounds on Miss Bennet in addition to her own, and said I would return tomorrow for his answer.”

Elizabeth could not help but be shocked by the sums involved; they would have ruined the Bennets, and even for Darcy, would take up a substantial amount of his yearly income. She cast her eyes down in humiliation over what her foolish sister was going to cost him.

“He must be fairly desperate. It could certainly have been a great deal worse,” said Darcy, not seeming in the least dismayed.

“I thought so as well,” replied his cousin. “I would suggest that we begin some investigation as to the true extent of the debts in Brighton—could we contact the colonel there?—and the town in Hertfordshire.”

“A good plan; I will ask Mr. Bennet tonight if he will handle that. I believe that he will be happier if he has some role to play in this,” Darcy said, causing Elizabeth to look up at him with a question in her eyes. “I invited him to dine with us,” he said by way of response.

She knew he had made the invitation for her sake; Mr. Bennet had been anything but gracious to him since their arrival, despite all that Darcy offered to do. She smiled her thanks to him, then looked away again, thinking that her family had become even more of a liability to him than either of them could have imagined.

After Colonel Fitzwilliam had left, Darcy took both her hands in his. “What is it, my love?”

She looked up to see concern in his eyes. With a sigh, she said, “My sister is a thoughtless fool who does not care who is injured by her actions, my father is behaving badly towards you when you are doing everything in your power to save our family, I myself was once taken in by a scoundrel of boundless impudence, and this is all going to cost you a great deal of money. You are being graciousness itself about it, but I cannot help being quite ashamed of my family.”

“Elizabeth, we have been through all this before, have we not? You have done nothing wrong except to have been misled by a man who is an expert at it. Your father—well, I certainly have not done anything that would make him trust me.” He paused, and regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then said in a gentler voice, “I would imagine seeing your sister this morning must have been upsetting.”

As soon as he had spoken the words, she knew that he was correct about what was truly troubling her. Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, accepting the comfort and feelings of security that she felt in his embrace. “You are right, of course,” she said. “She was so unrepentant, and did not even seem to notice her surroundings, while below Wickham was freely admitting he had no intention of marrying her unless his price was met. And speaking with
him
was even worse.” She shuddered as she thought back on it.

She could feel him stiffen slightly at her last words. “What did he say to you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

“Oh, nothing directly offensive; it was more what he assumed, that I would understand his motivations, since he thought my reasons for marrying you to be equally mercenary—that I was no better than he—and that I would continue to be friendly with him, and support him against you.”

He kissed her forehead. “He never understood you at all. My dearest love, do not give him a second thought; he is not worth it.”

“You are so very good to me, William.”

“That is because I enjoy being good to you, my love,” he responded lightly, trying to think of what might cheer her. “Come, there is still enough time before dinner for a walk, and you have not yet seen Hyde Park. Will you allow me to show you?”

She smiled at him gratefully.

* * *

Dinner that day began as a rather tense affair. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had met with Mr. Bennet beforehand to inform him of the progress that had been made with Wickham, a discussion that had turned somewhat irate when it became clear to Mr. Bennet that Darcy did not plan to allow him to participate in any way in the financial arrangements.

Elizabeth attempted to improve matters by introducing conversation about her journey with the Gardiners, which led to relating the tale of her wedding. With the blatant encouragement of Colonel Fitzwilliam, she dwelt on her interactions with Lord and Lady Derby with amusement. Darcy clearly enjoyed watching her lively rendition, and embarrassed his cousin into relating the boyhood episode that had landed him permanently on the wrong side of the bishop.

“You have yet to meet my beloved brother and his wife, though, Mrs. Darcy,” said the colonel. “A true appreciation of the extent of character in the Fitzwilliam family would be seriously lacking without that reference.”

“Oh, dear,” said Elizabeth gaily. “This sounds somewhat dangerous.”

“It is,” he assured her solemnly. “There is a reason I do not stay at my family home when I am in London!”

The most surprising contribution to the discussion came from Georgiana, who evidenced a gift for mimicry that came as a surprise to Elizabeth, giving an impression of Lady Catherine de Bourgh that would not have disgraced any actress on the London stage.

It was a new view of Darcy for Mr. Bennet, who had not before seen him in comfortable company. That his new son-in-law could laugh and tease was a significant surprise, and the obvious nature of Darcy’s affection for Elizabeth could not but improve his standing with Mr. Bennet. He considered for the first time the possibility that he might someday be able to enjoy Darcy’s company, a cheering thought since visits to Elizabeth seemed unlikely to be pleasant if he and Darcy persisted in sparring at every meeting. There was a good deal he was willing to suffer for Lizzy’s sake, and he determined to make a greater effort with Mr. Darcy.

It was the first test of his resolve when Elizabeth and Georgiana withdrew after dinner. Colonel Fitzwilliam, all too clearly attempting to disguise the discomfort between the other two men, began to tell amusing stories of his army escapades, but when he finally stopped to enjoy a little of his port, Mr. Bennet took the opportunity to offer an olive branch. “So, Mr. Darcy, have you and Lizzy considered how you plan to inform Mrs. Bennet of your marriage?”

Darcy replied courteously, “I must confess, sir, that the subject has not come up for discussion in these last few days, as we have been preoccupied with these other matters. Obviously, it is something we should attend to as soon as possible.”

“If you like,” Mr. Bennet offered, “I will be sending word to Longbourn tomorrow that Lydia has been found, and I can include your news as well, but if you and Lizzy prefer to inform her yourselves, I will not mention it.”

Feeling somewhat suspicious of this sudden civility and cooperativeness on the part of Mr. Bennet, Darcy asked guardedly, “Do you have a recommendation, Mr. Bennet? I have not thought ahead to when we might be able to travel to Longbourn, as this agreement with Wickham will need to be finalized before I could depart.”

Mr. Bennet raised his glass in Darcy’s direction. “Mr. Darcy, the day that I have any useful advice on how to manage my wife, I promise to share it with you. Unfortunately, to this day I have yet to discover any.”

Darcy was at a loss as to how best to respond; certainly his relationship thus far with Mr. Bennet did not allow latitude for humor about members of his family. He grasped about for what to say, wishing for Bingley’s fluency of speech.

Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped in to the rescue. “Mr. Bennet, have you any plans for when you will return home?”

“There seems to be little keeping me here at the moment, since I am not to be allowed to be of any use to my daughter,” he responded dryly. “All the same, I would prefer to be certain that an agreement has been reached before I return to Longbourn, so if it appears that it may happen soon, I shall wait until then.”

“I would not be surprised if we reached an agreement tomorrow,” said the colonel. “We are definitely within acceptable negotiating range, if there are no surprises.”

“I shall be meeting with my solicitor tomorrow,” Darcy said. “I need to arrange a settlement on Elizabeth, and I can discuss the payments to Wickham at the same time.”

“So, in theory, you could both be free to depart London within the next few days, if all goes well,” Colonel Fitzwilliam remarked, “especially as I can hold the line here.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Will not the Major General expect to see your face from time to time?”

“Hang the Major General! At least dealing with Wickham makes him seem more tolerable, and I can ask no more than that.”

Twelve

The following day saw a flurry of activity as the inhabitants of the Darcy townhouse scattered to their various tasks. Georgiana, having garnered her brother’s support on the necessity of a new wardrobe for Mrs. Darcy, took Elizabeth back to the modiste, which while not particularly a pleasure for her, at least distracted her from the tasks at hand. It was the third day in which business had separated her from Darcy for a majority of the day, and Elizabeth had discovered that she did not care for this in the slightest.

When they returned to the house, Darcy was already there, also feeling a similar lack. Georgiana began to tell him of their day, and then, noticing how the two were gazing at one another, excused herself somewhat abruptly. She had no sooner departed the room than Elizabeth was in Darcy’s arms, enjoying the exquisite sensation of completion that returning to a lover’s embrace can bring.

“Oh, William,” she whispered against his chest. “I missed you so much.”

He caught her lips in an engaging kiss. “I think that I shall never allow you to leave my side again.” He had found himself distracted all day by her absence, wondering what she was doing, and whether she was thinking of him, and to hear her acknowledgment of missing him filled him with the contentment of knowing that he was loved by the woman he adored so completely. Now that he was holding her in his arms, however, he began finding her distracting in a completely different way, and his hand began wandering down to the curve of her hips.

It was not fair, thought Elizabeth, that he could evoke a reaction from her body with such ease. She fought against the urge to press herself against him.

He pulled her closer to him as he deepened the kiss to taste the pleasures of her mouth. He could feel her response as her lips pressed against his, but her body did not melt into his in the way he so loved. When he lifted his head for a moment, he said, “Reluctant, my love?”

Elizabeth, knowing that she could be all too tempted if she allowed herself to be, said, “Georgiana is here, William. You cannot simply carry me off to bed.”

He said an ungentlemanly word, which together with the irritated look on his face, produced a soft laugh from her. He nipped at her ear. “Are you laughing at me, my love?” he growled.

She could not help the mischievous look on her face. “You
are
very amusing, after all,” she murmured, her words cut off by a gasp as he began to assault her neck with light kisses that seemed to send currents of energy through her.

He pressed himself against her in such a way as to leave her in no doubt as to his potent arousal. “Let us see how long you can laugh then,” he replied, moving his hands seductively over her hips while his lips drifted downward to her collarbone.

“William,” she protested gently, finding it very difficult not to arch her body into his enticing touch as desire began to wend its way through her. She was beginning to gain some understanding of why his family considered him impulsive, she thought. “I did miss you today,” she admitted.

“I cannot say I am sorry to hear it, since you were hardly out of my thoughts all day,” he replied.

“I wish that we could return to Pemberley,” she said somewhat dreamily. “There were not so many people bent on taking you away from me there.”

He leaned his cheek against her hair, still finding the experience of having Elizabeth express her affection for him to be a heady one. “My dearest love,” he said, feeling his love for her to be greater than he could ever hope to express. “I would like nothing better than to have you completely to myself.”

They remained thus, murmuring endearments, for a brief while, which came to a close when Darcy told her that he had something to show her. After a last kiss, she stood, leaving him free to fetch a paper from his desk. He handed her several closely written pages.

“What is this?” she enquired.

“It is a copy of the settlement I made on you while I was at my solicitor’s office today. I thought you might like to see it.”

She gave him a grateful glance, knowing that he had no responsibility to share it with her, and that in showing it to her he was respecting her desire for involvement in decisions regarding her. She read through it carefully, noting the provisions for her future should she outlive him, and for any children they might have, and paused when she reached the section regarding her annual allowance. Without looking up, she said slowly, “This is very generous, William, but I came to you without a dowry, and there is no need to settle this sort of money on me.”

He tipped her chin up so that she looked at him. “Elizabeth, this is an appropriate settlement for my wife, regardless of how you came to me, and I will not treat you like a poor relation. You will have significant expenses in maintaining the standards necessary for my wife. You will,” he paused, and smiled knowingly at her “for example, clearly have a substantial need for replacing clothing.”

She could not help smiling at his words, but still added, “I still believe that this is far too generous.”

“It is done already, my love,” he said, not without pleasure. “You may as well accustom yourself to it.”

She handed the papers back to him, and kissed him affectionately. “Well, I thank you, then, and I am glad you know that I did not marry you for your fortune.”

“Of that I am quite clear, my dearest.”

“And thank you for showing it to me; I do appreciate being involved.”

He looked rather more pleased by these thanks than her earlier ones. “I have one more thing for you as well,” he said.

“Am I required to guess what it is, or do I get a hint?”

“How many kisses is a hint worth?” he asked mischievously.

She put her arms around his neck and pulled his lips towards hers. “Kisses are free,” she said, demonstrating her point.

When she released him, he said, “In that case, I shall not require you to guess.” He reached his hands behind her neck and unhooked the chain of the small amber cross she customarily wore. From a box in his pocket he removed another necklace, this one an elegant pendant of pearls set in gold, obviously expensive yet simple enough for everyday wear, and replaced the other one by fixing it around her neck.

She lifted it to examine it more closely. “Thank you, William,” she said warmly. “It is lovely. But I hope you know that you need not buy me gifts; you are all that I need.”

He gathered her into his arms. “I enjoy buying you gifts, so you should accustom yourself to that as well.” She laid her head upon his chest, hearing the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.

A knock came at the door, and Darcy released her to open it. Colonel Fitzwilliam entered, and Elizabeth colored as he gave his cousin a look that made her suspect that he had no doubts as to why the door had been locked. “Excellent news, Darcy,” he said exuberantly. “Wickham accepted the offer with only minor alterations, and your sister, madam,” he paused to bow in Elizabeth’s direction, “is at your uncle’s house on Gracechurch Street.”

Elizabeth pressed her hand over her heart as a look of delight came to her face. “That is wonderful news, indeed,” she cried. “Thank you, thank you again and again for all you have done in this.”

“It was my pleasure, Mrs. Darcy. Your husband has the more trying position of having to foot the bill,” said the colonel, adroitly turning her attention back to Darcy, who did not appear pleased by his wife bestowing her bright smiles upon his cousin.

She turned a radiant look onto Darcy. “He is quite correct,” she said softly. “You are the one I should be thanking, and I do thank you, again and again, in the name of all my family.”

He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “It is no more than I ought to have done. Perhaps we should call at Gracechurch Street later ourselves.”

* * *

The excursion to the Gardiner home went as well as could be expected. Lydia was Lydia still: untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless, talking constantly about her upcoming wedding and all the clothes she wished to purchase for it. Elizabeth, mortified by her behavior, tried to keep her as far as possible from Darcy, thinking he would be quite justified in thinking Lydia not worth the small fortune he was spending to rescue her. Fortunately, Lydia had no interest in someone as dull as Mr. Darcy, even now when he was known to be her brother.

Darcy spent most of the visit in the company of Mr. Bennet, a situation that placed him on the defensive even when his father-in-law was most cordial. Elizabeth, however, could tell more immediately that the brunt of her father’s anger with her husband had passed, and had the satisfaction of seeing Mr. Bennet taking pains to get acquainted with him.

After a lengthy discussion, Darcy asked Elizabeth to join them, leaving Lydia to sulk over her neglect. “Elizabeth,” Darcy said, “your father has informed me that he plans to depart for Longbourn tomorrow morning.”

“I see nothing further that I can do in London apart from fretting, and I can do that equally well in my own library,” said Mr. Bennet, with more of his old dry humor than Elizabeth had heard since their arrival in London. “Your aunt is likewise returning to London with the children tomorrow. Lydia will have to remain here until the wedding, of course. The question is as to what the two of you wish to do.”

Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, whose countenance was unrevealing. He said, “We will need to be in London in two weeks for your sister’s wedding, since that is when the financial arrangements are to be finalized, but in the meantime we can do as you wish—we can travel to Hertfordshire, or we can remain in town.”

Having taken earlier the difficult step of acknowledging that Darcy had the right to make this decision on his wife’s behalf, Mr. Bennet was pleased to see him turning the question to Elizabeth.

“We really must go to Longbourn soon in any case,” Elizabeth said. “I suppose my preference would be to do so now, so that after Lydia’s wedding, we would be free to return to Pemberley.”

Darcy’s eyes lit at the idea that Elizabeth was anxious to go home, to
their
home. They shared a glance, silently agreeing that some time alone at Pemberley was what they both needed.

Mr. Bennet grimaced slightly, less than pleased to hear that Lizzy was desirous to leave the environs of Hertfordshire. In the interest of tranquility, however, he said, “I wrote to your mother this afternoon; I am not certain whether she will receive the letter or not before I return. I elected not to mention your marriage in it, Lizzy, since I did not know whether you preferred to announce it yourself.”

“We had originally planned to do so, but that was before we knew that we would be coming to London,” she replied. “I have not given it any particular thought since then, given how much else has been happening. We can tell her when we arrive at Longbourn, though.”

With a wry smile, Mr. Bennet said, “Now, as you know, Lizzy, your mother’s nerves and I are old companions, and I have no fear of her wrath under ordinary circumstances; however, were I to neglect to inform her that one of her daughters was married, I believe that neither her nerves nor I would be likely to survive the outcome. As a result, I do plan to inform her in the calmest possible manner of your current state when I return home tomorrow, unless, of course, you choose to join me and to share the joyous news with her yourself.”

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy questioningly. He said, “If you prefer to go tomorrow, Elizabeth, then we can certainly do so.”

“I think that I should prefer to tell her the story my own way,” Elizabeth allowed.

“Then tomorrow it shall be,” said Darcy.

* * *

They arrived at Longbourn slightly after midday, and it was clear that Mr. Bennet’s letter had not yet been received, as they were apparently not expected. They hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running downstairs from her mother’s apartment, immediately met them. As she affectionately embraced Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth, she lost not a moment in asking whether anything had been heard of the fugitives. Mr. Bennet was so well able to reassure her as to Lydia’s status as to bring tears of joy to her eyes. “But we must tell my mother at once!” Jane exclaimed. “It will be such a relief to her nerves.”

“She is still in her rooms, then?” asked Mr. Bennet, his reluctance to confront his wife evident.

“She has not been downstairs since this all began,” Jane replied.

“Well, then, you and Lizzy should inform her at once!” said Mr. Bennet. “I shall be in the library; I need a glass of port, and I daresay that Mr. Darcy does as well, or will need it soon enough in any case.”

As they walked upstairs, Jane said, “Oh, Lizzy, how I have longed for you to be home! I cannot tell you how much I have missed you!”

“Dearest Jane, you have had so much on your shoulders—how I wish I could have helped you! And I have so very much to tell you,” replied Elizabeth, thinking,
including that this is my home no longer
.

Entering Mrs. Bennet’s apartment, Jane said, “Look—they are arrived! My father and Lizzy and Mr. Darcy as well! And they bring good news!”

“Oh, what is it, what is it? Is my Lydia married?” Mrs. Bennet cried.

“Not yet,” Elizabeth answered her, “though we hope she will be soon. She has been found, and is at my uncle Gardiner’s house, and she and Wickham plan to marry in two weeks.”

Mrs. Bennet’s joy burst forth, and she was now in an irritation as violent from delight, as she had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. To know that her daughter would be married was enough. She was disturbed by no fear for her felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.

“My dear, dear Lydia!” she cried. “This is delightful indeed! She will be married—I shall see her again!—she will be married at sixteen!—How I long to see her! And to see dear Wickham too! But the clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to her about them directly. Jane, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how much he will give her. I shall have a daughter married! My dear, dear Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I do have another piece of news, madam, and it is that you already have a daughter married.”

Other books

A Novel Murder by Simpson, Ginger
Ernie: The Autobiography by Borgnine, Ernest
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
Confessional by Jack Higgins
How the Dead Dream by Lydia Millet
The Unforgiving Minute by Sarah Granger
Juilliard or Else by Reese, Nichele