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Chapter 37: Enlightening of Circumstances

Posted on 2009-01-02

Georgiana’s eyes widened and she looked toward her brother, noticing his jaw tense as he turned his ring in agitation. Ever since her uncle’s angry refusal of his blessing, Georgiana had feared the result of his vehement dismissal of Fitzwilliam as a proper guardian for her. She had spent her nights sleeplessly, terrified that the following day would see her torn away from him and their home. Seeing her aunt standing in the doorframe, her deep blue gown pooling delicately to the ground, Georgiana felt her heart hitch fearfully.

‘Surely she means to take me,’ she thought, her mind panicking.

Darcy studied his sister’s frightened gaze, and his eyes grew sad when he realized what she feared. He crossed to her chair in a few swift strides, and laying a gentle hand on her shoulder in an effort to calm her, he smiled encouragingly, though his own chest tightened with worry.

‘Please let her motive for coming not be to remove Georgiana from this house,’ Darcy prayed silently.

Lifting his dark gaze to his aunt’s, Darcy straightened, and his mouth set firmly. Lady Matlock studied her nephew carefully, assessing his reaction to her appearance and thinking on how she might begin. She feared his reception of her, and for a moment, regretted coming. Resolving not to show her anxiety, she played idly with the delicate lace on her sleeve and raised her chin proudly.

“Forgive me for appearing unannounced,” she said evenly. “But I believe we have a pressing matter to discuss that has been too long delayed.”

Turning her fair, wide eyes toward her son, who she noticed frowned angrily, she observed, “So this is where you have been hiding, Richard.”

“I have not been hiding, mother,” Fitzwilliam stated flatly.

“Not hiding?” she asked incredulously. “What do you call staying away until nightfall and leaving before the rest of the house wakens in the morning?”

Sipping his brandy, Fitzwilliam answered wryly, “I call it being rather busy.”

Her gaze narrowed in disapproval of his cleverness, and gathering her skirts, she moved into the room and strode purposefully past her nephew and son to take the chair nearest the fire. She lowered herself into it and smoothed her skirts gently before returning her attention to them.

“Busy or not, you have not dined with us for these past four nights,” she said calmly. “Your father is most displeased, and I have missed you.”

Shaking his head, Fitzwilliam declared, “My father is often displeased with me, madam; this is nothing new.”

With that, he turned his gaze to his cousin and raised his brow expectantly, inviting Darcy to question her reason for coming. Darcy nodded slightly, and clasping his hands tightly behind his back, inquired, “To what do we owe this visit, aunt?”

“You could offer me tea first, nephew,” she said lightly. “Really; where has your gentility gone?”

Georgiana quickly leaned forward to the fine silver tea service on the table before her, but Darcy stayed her hand before she could pour. “Nothing has happened to my sense of gentility,” Darcy said slowly. “I merely wonder what brings you here so late.”

Holding his unwavering gaze, Lady Matlock noted that his dark eyes held a staunch determination in them, and he moved closer to Georgiana as if to protect her. Her eyes immediately softened seeing his action, and recognizing that her appearance might be construed as her husband acting on his belief that Darcy was no longer a proper guardian, Lady Matlock shook her head sadly.

“I have not come to take Georgiana, though that is what you all seem to believe,” she declared uneasily. “I do wish to speak with you regarding your decision, Darcy.”

“There is nothing to discuss,” he answered, his voice dangerously flat.

Smirking slightly, Lady Matlock said, “You sound like your uncle; so unwilling to hear the other side of an argument, so certain that you are correct.”

Darcy straightened at this, his eyes flashing at being compared so to his uncle, but looking toward the colonel, he noticed that he nodded in agreement. Darcy’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell agape.

“Do not look so,” Fitzwilliam declared easily. “You cannot deny that you are as stubborn as a mule. You are not as immovable as my father, but you can certainly be difficult at times.”

Blushing slightly, Darcy looked toward the floorboards and remained silent as his aunt continued, “I am not here to give you my thoughts on your Miss Bennet; I do not know her, therefore, talking about her would surely reflect badly on both of us.”

Darcy looked at his aunt skeptically and asked, “Then what else would you speak with me about?”

Lady Matlock remained silent, running her fingers lightly over the ring on her left hand. Sighing deeply, she began, “I would merely enlighten you as to the circumstances which will face you after you have married. I fear you have not thought of the life she shall have once she marries you, dearest.”

He started at this, and lowering himself into the seat beside Georgiana, he declared firmly, “She will want for nothing.”

“Are you certain of that?” Lady Matlock asked softly. “You must know that she will not be welcome into many houses, and that her reception into society will be cool at best.”

“I do not care about any of that,” Darcy said darkly.

“But does she?” his aunt inquired before continuing, “In London, she would be relegated to a life where the only place she could act and speak easily would be inside these walls. She would be unable to visit the shops or attend the orchestra without speculation. Look what happened with Mrs. and Miss Thornton; I knew everything about your evening with her the next morning.”

Rising from his seat and storming toward the hearth, Darcy braced his foot against the grate and turned his hard gaze on the flames. “It would only be idle gossip,” he declared uneasily. “It means nothing.”

“It does to the person it is about!” Lady Matlock cried. “It is a slow torture to be out of favor with society. It would wear on her, and from your affection for her, I imagine she is a bright and enthusiastic girl filled with vivacity. How long do you suppose such a disposition like hers can withstand cruelty before it fades?”

“We do not have to reside in London at all,” he answered, glancing over his shoulder.

Her brow furrowing, Lady Matlock asked, “You would hide her away at Pemberley?”

Rearing angrily, Darcy exclaimed, “I would never hide her away; I am not, nor shall I ever be, ashamed of Elizabeth!”

The company started at the vehemence with which he spoke, and the displeasure flashing in his eyes. Closing them and breathing deeply, Darcy attempted to calm his raging mind. He remained silent for some time, reigning in his racing thoughts and heart. Opening his eyes, he looked sadly toward his aunt.

“I am very much aware that society’s reception of Elizabeth’s and my marriage will be difficult,” he declared quietly. “But everything in me screams that I have to try; that she is worth every look of disbelief and word of scorn that I will encounter.”

Turning his gaze toward his sister, and reaching for her hand, he said, his voice filled with promise and resignation, “Even though they may never accept us, they will eventually accept our decision and move onto assessing and disapproving of the next ‘unsuitable’ match they encounter.”

Georgiana pressed her brother’s hand affectionately, hoping to impart some comfort to him. Despite her young age, she realized the potential humanity had for heartlessness; her dealings with Mr. Wickham had taught her that. Though she knew his marriage to Elizabeth would severely limit her own place in the world, she did not care. In Elizabeth, she found someone who could enliven them and return to their home the spirit and laughter that was lost with their father’s death.

Looking toward her aunt, she declared, “I believe Fitzwilliam and Miss Elizabeth will be very happy together, despite what they might endure.”

Smiling at her niece’s strength, for she so rarely witnessed it in the past, Lady Matlock asked, “You approve then? I fear you will be as affected by this marriage as your brother.”

Nodding, Georgiana said resolutely, “I most heartily approve.”

Rising from her seat, Lady Matlock studied the siblings carefully and declared, “I would have you speak with your Miss Bennet again, Darcy. She sounds an intelligent young lady, and since she has accepted you, she undoubtedly recognizes what she has gotten herself into. Nonetheless, you should prepare her for what is to come.”

Looking toward her son and noting happily that he nodded in approval, she said, “Come, Richard; you will see me home. As Darcy has pointed out, it is rather late and I am without an escort.”

“I highly doubt anything will happen, mother,” Fitzwilliam answered lightly. “You are a mere half mile from home.”

“You would leave your mother to shift for herself?” she asked disbelievingly, pressing a hand to her chest.

Laughing slightly, Fitzwilliam stood from his seat, declaring, “I would never.”

He moved to Lady Matlock’s side, and bowing slightly, offered her his arm, which she took gratefully, while Georgiana rose from her place on the settee to stand by her brother. Looking at her nephew, Lady Matlock asserted, “Should you go through with this, I will do all I can for your Miss Elizabeth.”

Darcy released the breath he had been holding and stepping forward, took his aunt’s hand and pressed it fondly. “Thank you, aunt,” he said, his voice filled with relief.

“Yes; yes,” she declared, waving her hand dismissively. “We will discuss this more soon, but for now I will wish you both a good evening.”

With that she swept from the room, her skirts gliding noiselessly behind her as her slippers clicked down the hallway. Fitzwilliam watched his mother go, and before following her, he smiled brightly and declared, “Well, Darcy; it looks as if you have found yourself another ally.”

Before Darcy could answer, Lady Matlock called for her son, and Fitzwilliam bowed hastily before departing. Darcy listened as the two quietly thanked the two footmen who fetched their things, and soon after, the heavy oak door closed behind them, as they moved out into the chill of the evening. Breathing deeply, Darcy looked toward Georgiana, and recognized that the color had returned to her countenance. Smiling gratefully, he took her hand and clasped it surely.

“I am very lucky to have you for a sister,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her gently on the cheek.

Georgiana blushed at the compliment and declared, “I have done nothing extraordinary; I merely speak as I find. I truly believe you and Miss Elizabeth will be very blessed to have each other.”

“We shall all be happy,” Darcy said. “You have my word, dearest.”

He gathered his sister in his arms and embraced her tightly. Leaning his chin on her head, he closed his eyes and prayed silently that he spoke the truth.

The following afternoon, Elizabeth moved her fingers over the gown Hannah had pressed for her. She felt the small, embroidered flowers on the bodice and simple lace at the neck and determined that it would be an appropriate choice for her meeting with Miss Darcy. Smiling happily in anticipation, Elizabeth moved to untie her dressing gown, but paused when she heard a light knock at her door followed by her sister’s quiet voice greeting her.

“What do you think, Jane?” Elizabeth asked lightly, gesturing toward the dress. “Do you think it too simple?”

Moving toward the bed, Jane studied the gown, taking in the pleasing cut of the jewel toned muslin. Nodding in agreement, Jane smiled and declared, “I always liked this one on you, Lizzy; it compliments you so well.”

“You are always too kind to me,” Elizabeth said fondly as she secured her garnet cross at her neck.

She raised her hand to the curls that had been delicately arranged that morning to check their tidiness, and finding a large tendril had fallen against her neck, she sighed in frustration. Shaking her head she cried in exasperation, “Why can I not be as refined as you? Look at me; I always look wild!”

Jane shook her head, and moving toward her sister, took the section of hair from her fingers. “It is easily set to rights,” she said soothingly.

She quickly instructed Elizabeth to sit on the trunk at the foot of the bed, and shrugging lightly, Elizabeth obliged. Jane quickly twisted the tendril and secured it against the others. Studying her handiwork carefully, she pressed a thoughtful finger to her chin before nodding in satisfaction.

“There, now,” she began. “All better.”

Elizabeth moved to touch her head, but Jane stayed her hand, and looking at her reproachfully, declared, “You are always fidgeting; leave it be, or you will look wild again by tea time.”

Smiling sheepishly, Elizabeth agreed before saying, “I should dress; Miss Darcy will be here in an hour, and it will not do to meet her like this. Then she will really think me wild!”

Rising from her seat, Elizabeth untied her dressing gown and lowered the garment from her shoulders while Jane readied her dress. As Elizabeth stepped into it, Jane inquired, “Has Papa written to our mother yet to inform her of your engagement?”

Laughing lightly and rolling her eyes heavenward as she pushed her arms through the sleeves, Elizabeth declared, “Yes, though I wish he had not. I can just imagine what she will do and say when she reads it.”

“She will be very happy,” Jane said, setting herself to the small buttons up Elizabeth’s back.

“Exactly!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

When she felt her sister fasten the final button at the base of her neck, Elizabeth moved away, and turning once dramatically, she fanned herself feverishly. She inhaled deeply as she had heard her mother do so often when she was overcome by excitement, and smiling mischievously, she pressed her hand to her heart.

“She will cry, ‘Lydia! Fetch my smelling salts! That uncontrollable Lizzy is to marry Mr. Darcy. I feel my faintness coming upon me again!’” Elizabeth said, her voice mimicking her mother’s agitated tone. “Mind you that is before she sends Kitty and Mary to fetch Sarah and Hill to her chambers so that she might dress in her finest and prepare to visit Mrs. Philips, Mrs. Long, and Lady Lucas.”

Jane smiled brightly at this, feeling that Elizabeth’s assumption was undoubtedly true. Shaking her head, she bit her lip in an effort to contain the laugher which threatened to escape.

Breathing evenly, she declared, “Now, Lizzy; you do not think she will be so very bad as that, do you?”

“I do indeed,” Elizabeth said, reaching out her hand until she felt her trunk’s rough lid.

She kneeled before it, and opening it, set to moving her fingers over the contents in an effort to find her slippers. Finding them, she smiled triumphantly.

“Mama will say, ‘Oh, imagine the carriages Lizzy will have; four at the very least! And the gowns! Why, her fashions will surely come straight from the finest shops in London! Mrs. Darcy must be seen in only the latest fashions!’” Elizabeth finished, sitting upon the trunk and running her fingers over the worn soles of her slippers.

Jane watched her carefully, taking in her furrowed brow and pursed lips, and realizing Elizabeth thought on something far more serious than their mother’s silly exclamations, she frowned in concern. Standing from her seat on the bed, Jane quickly moved to her sister’s side and pressed her hand gently.

“What is it that troubles you, dearest?” she asked softly.

Elizabeth sighed at the question, closing her eyes for a moment in concentration before answering, “I cannot imagine what half of London would say if they knew the future Mrs. Darcy wore such old shoes.”

Jane’s brow arched questioningly, and she remained silent as Elizabeth continued sadly, “I think we can all agree that I am not what one envisions when they think of the wife of one of the richest men in northern England.”

“So that is what worries you,” Jane said. “You still persist in this belief that you are not good enough for him.”

Elizabeth smiled slightly and declared, “No, no; he has assured me I am all he desires. It is the rest of them I fear contending with.”

Rising from her place beside Elizabeth, Jane professed firmly, “I am certain you will charm them all. Be as you always are, and they will adore you. If they do not, then they are fools!”

Her eyes widening in surprise at her sister’s vehement declaration, she said, “I have never heard you speak so, Jane.”

“I speak only as I find,” she declared evenly. “Come; the children have been asking after you. Shall we visit with them before joining our aunt and uncle?”

“I would like that very much,” Elizabeth answered, her smile widening.

Slipping her feet into her slippers, Elizabeth rose from her seat and thanked Jane as she gently laid a shawl over her shoulders. Bowing gallantly, Elizabeth asked, “May I escort you, madam?”

Smiling, Jane accepted, and wound her arm through Elizabeth’s. Together the sisters moved into the hallway as Jane admitted quietly, “I do wish we could see Mama’s reaction to our father’s letter.”

“It would be both comical and taxing,” Elizabeth said easily. “I can hear her now; ‘He has ten thousand a year at least!’”

Jane laughed lightly, and before either could say any more, they were welcomed into the nursery by their cousins’ laughter and happy greetings. Elizabeth and Jane’s merry smiles widened when their youngest cousin invited them to join their game of playacting.

“We are to be pirates!” little Edward cried excitedly. “Anne says I may be the pirate king!”

Facing her aunt’s eldest daughter, Elizabeth smiled and declared, “Why, he is very fearsome. I believe him to be an excellent choice, Anne.”

The young girl of thirteen smiled brightly, and reaching for Elizabeth’s hand, she said, “And you shall be the pirate queen.”

Meanwhile, from her place in the drawing room, Mrs. Gardiner set aside her needlework and listened to the pounding steps of her children running about above stairs. She shook her head lightly when the commotion was followed by the hearty laughter of her eldest nieces. Feeling that her sister-in-law would most certainly not approve of such behavior, Mrs. Gardiner laughed lightly. Smiling, she once again took up her needlework and reflected that Elizabeth seemed to be making great progress. She hoped Mr. Byatt would agree when he visited them later that afternoon.

Darcy raised his hand expectantly, waiting for his sister’s descent from the carriage. When she did not appear, his brow furrowed in confusion, and he looked into the conveyance. She remained in her seat, fretfully twisting her glove, her face overwrought with worry.

“Whatever are you doing, Georgiana?” he asked, his eyes filled with concern. “Are you unwell?”

“I am quite well,” she answered quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

Removing his hat, Darcy glanced at his coachman before stepping back into the carriage and settling himself in the seat across from his sister. He watched her carefully, trying to account for her reticence. Feeling she might still fear being removed from his care, he reached forward to pat her hand gently.

Smiling comfortingly, he declared, “As I told you last night, you will remain with me regardless of our uncle’s opinion.”

“That is not what concerns me,” she said, turning her wide eyes to his face.

Settling back into his seat, Darcy raised an expectant brow and waited patiently for her to continue. Georgiana breathed deeply, blushing slightly at having drawn his full attention. Biting her lip anxiously, she turned her gaze to the Gardiners’ house, distractedly studying the lines of it.

Darcy leaned forward, his mind suddenly filling with unease at his sister’s persistent silence. “Tell me what does concern you then,” he said evenly.

Knowing there was little she could do but answer, for he would not allow her behavior to pass without explanation, Georgiana closed her eyes and said swiftly, “I am afraid our aunt’s words last night have made you question your choice to marry Miss Elizabeth.”

As the words tumbled from his sister’s mouth, Darcy’s countenance darkened, and quite weary of having his devotion and sense questioned, he declared hotly, “I would never abandon my promise to her. You must think me a very inconstant man if you believe I could.”

Georgiana watched her brother look out the window and release an exasperated breath. Shaking her head vehemently, she exclaimed, “I did not mean that at all!”

Realizing his gaze remained riveted on the scenery outside, Georgiana shifted across the aisle to sit next to him. Pressing his hand desperately, she declared, “I know you would never renege on your commitment to her.”

Wounded by her previous words, Darcy slid his hand from beneath hers before turning his gaze toward her. “What do you fear I will do then?” he asked, his voice belying his impatience.

Smiling sadly and swiping at a single tear that trailed down her cheek, she answered, “I am afraid you will sacrifice your own happiness to preserve hers; that your wish to protect her from the censure of those she may encounter when you are married will override your desires.”

“Whatever are you talking of?” Darcy inquired, his eyes searching his sister’s face for clarity.

Breathing deeply, Georgiana raised her right hand, and cupping his cheek fondly, she declared, “Simply put, dear brother; you will attempt to convince her not to marry you.”

Darcy started at her words and shrank from her gentle touch. He had spent the previous night asking himself the very same question; was risking Elizabeth’s happiness and comfort worth securing his own? He had sat before the fire in his chambers replaying his aunt’s words over and over until the last flame sputtered out of life just before dawn.

‘How long do you suppose such a disposition like hers can withstand cruelty before it fades?’ his aunt had demanded.

When the sun rose that morning, Darcy determined that he had no desire to find out, and though he was loath to admit it, he had decided to apprise Elizabeth of his meeting with his aunt and the very plausible truth of her words. His heart would not allow him to break off the engagement, and he damned himself for his selfishness.

‘Do you truly believe hers will?’ his mind asked incredulously.

Closing his eyes, Darcy leaned his head against the cold glass of the carriage’s window, allowing its coolness to calm his racing mind. Pressing a hand to his chest painfully, Darcy whispered, “I do not want to, Georgiana.”

“Then do not,” she begged him. “Let Miss Elizabeth be her own guide; you know she is capable of it. Our aunt is right; Miss Elizabeth is intelligent, and would never have agreed to marry you had she not considered the challenges that awaited her.”

“I am selfish for wishing to have her,” Darcy declared sadly.

“No,” Georgiana said firmly. “No, you are not. You take too much upon yourself, Fitzwilliam. You always have. Allow Miss Elizabeth to make her own decision, and allow yourself to be happy.”

Darcy opened his eyes slowly, and passing a shaking hand through his dark locks, he looked toward his sister. Studying her worried countenance, he reflected that she appeared each day to be more like their mother. A small, proud smile appeared on his face and he reached for her hand.

Clasping it gently, he declared softly, “You are very grown up now.”

Smiling, Georgiana nodded slightly and answered, “I suppose that I am. We should go in; surely we look rather ridiculous sitting out here. We cannot have Mr. Bennet questioning your soundness of your mind, can we? I should very much like to make his acquaintance, for he sounds fascinating.”

Laughing in spite of himself, and the gravity of their discussion, Darcy agreed, and breathing deeply, he turned and stepped down from the carriage. He could not have known how true his sister’s words were, for at that very moment, Mr. Bennet watched curiously from his place at the drawing room window.

Mr. Bennet craned his neck so he could better take the countenances of the siblings. When they disappeared from view, for they had entered the house, he shook his head in amusement, and reflected that he was acting very much like his wife. He scolded himself for allowing himself to spy, but the carriage’s arrival had caught his eye and drew his attention away from his newspaper. When he noticed neither brother nor sister descend from it, he became concerned, and seeing Mr. and Miss Darcy’s serious countenances as they spoke did nothing to calm his mind. He hardly knew what to think, for having never met the young woman, Mr. Bennet could not know if she was as generous an individual as Mr. Darcy, and would therefore accept Elizabeth openly. Stepping back from the window, he straightened his waistcoat and trained his features. Breathing deeply, he scolded himself for such an irrational worry.

‘You have never even met the girl,’ his mind declared. ‘You cannot know her feelings until you have at least done that much.’

Hearing the maid announce their visitors, Mr. Bennet turned from the window and watched as the Gardiners greeted the pair happily. His gaze settled on Miss Darcy; he noted her figure was pleasing and her deportment refined, but nothing in her appearance gave the impression of an affected personality. He was startled from his thoughts by his brother-in-law calling for his attention.

“Miss Darcy, this is my brother, Mr. Thomas Bennet,” Mr. Gardiner declared, looking curiously at him.

Mr. Bennet blushed at his distraction, and quickly bowed, saying, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Darcy. My daughters have told me much about you.”

Georgiana’s color heightened and she asserted, “I am certain they were too kind in their compliments.”

Mr. Bennet smiled broadly, for he suddenly saw Miss Darcy for what she truly was; a young woman who was only a little shy, and desperately required an individual in her life who could aid her in abandoning her reticence.

‘Lizzy should have no difficulty in succeeding in that,’ he thought pleasantly.

Stepping forward, he offered her his arm and declared, “And I am certain that is not true. My Elizabeth tells me you are a great reader like us. I should like very much to hear what works you enjoy.”

Georgiana smiled slightly, her nervousness diminishing slightly under the influence of Mr. Bennet’s friendliness. She allowed him to lead her across the room to the settee near the chimneypiece, where once seated, he quickly set to asking for her opinions on Shakespeare. Darcy watched the scene happily from his place near the door, noticing his sister’s blush and uneasiness disappear. She politely asked Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner for their thoughts and the two quickly took the chairs across from them.

His attention was soon drawn away from the company by light laughter filtering through the hallway. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that his beloved Elizabeth was being led through the foyer by the youngest Gardiner child. Turning fully toward the pair, Darcy crossed his arms comfortably and leaned against the doorframe to observe them.

“Since you are now my queen, cousin Lizzy, you must listen to everything I say,” young Edward declared firmly.

Darcy bit back his laughter at the pronouncement, feeling that queen or no queen, Elizabeth would never willingly obey anyone if she did not wish it. His eyes danced happily when she answered, “And why is that, King Edward? Am I not powerful in my own right?”

Edward paused their progress, and crossing his arms defiantly, he asserted, “That may be, but I am still king and I want a biscuit and tea.”

Elizabeth’s brow rose in amusement and she declared, “I suppose I am to fetch it for you.”

“You are,” he answered happily. “It is my first command.”

Shaking her head, Elizabeth said firmly, “Even kings need to ask politely.”

Raising his eyes doubtfully to his cousin’s face, he asked innocently, “They do?”

Smiling in amusement and recalling the days when Georgiana plagued him with such demands, Darcy answered for Elizabeth, stating, “They do indeed, Master Gardiner.”

Edward whirled around in surprise, and seeing Darcy standing over him, his hands clasped casually behind him, he smiled brightly. Bowing deeply with all the flourish he expected of a king, he declared, “A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Darcy.”

Elizabeth recovered from her surprise at hearing her betrothed’s voice, and laughed lightly at her cousin’s antics. She listened attentively as Mr. Darcy answered, “I am certain that should you ask your queen very nicely, she will ensure that the things you wish for are brought to you.”

Assessing Mr. Darcy carefully, Edward’s eyes danced merrily, and turning toward Elizabeth, he took her hand gently in his smaller one and asked, “Will her Highness please let me have tea and biscuits?”

Pressing his hand and dropping into an elegant curtsey, Elizabeth turned her face downward and said, “I shall see that Hannah brings you some, King Edward. I am certain your sisters will enjoy some as well.”

“Thank you!” he exclaimed happily, before turning on his heel and skipping up the stairs.

Darcy watched in amusement as the young boy once above stairs, tore down the hallway. Shaking his head, he looked toward Elizabeth and watched as she rose and smoothed the creases from her skirts. She turned her face expectantly in his direction and smiled archly.

“You are certain kings ask politely for the things they wish?” she asked teasingly. “Even pirate kings?”

Glancing over his shoulder and into the drawing room to see that the others were still ignorant of Elizabeth’s presence, Darcy smiled and took the few short strides that separated them. Taking her hands in his, he pressed them affectionately and studied her features. In her presence ,his previous anxiety was forgotten and he smiled broadly.

“I am sure that if a pirate king had a queen such as you, he would have no reservations in acting as a gentleman,” he answered lightly.

Before Elizabeth could answer, she heard the gentle approach of her sister, and sliding her hands from Mr. Darcy’s grasp, she grinned and asserted, “Even if he did not, I would have no reservations in disobeying him.”

Laughing lightly, Darcy admitted, “Of that I am certain.”

Elizabeth listened as he turned to greet Jane, and wishing to prevent Jane from going into the drawing room, for doing so would surely end her private meeting with Mr. Darcy, she asked if she might fetch Hannah to bring refreshment to the children.

“Ah, yes,” Jane declared in amusement. “Edward said he was expecting tea and biscuits. I shall see to it right away; it would not do to displease a pirate.”

Darcy watched as she smiled at him before gathering her skirts and moving in the direction of what he could only assume was the kitchen. Feeling thankful for the opportunity to speak with Elizabeth alone, he reclaimed her hand and waited for her to return her attention to him. She faced him fully when she felt the pressure of his hand on hers.

Watching her face carefully, Darcy asked, “May we speak before we join the others, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth memorized the sound of his voice saying her name so casually, and happily reflected that she would hear it countless times in the future. Nodding, she declared, “Of course, if that is what you wish.”

Glancing around the foyer, and noting the dining room was empty, Darcy clasped Elizabeth’s hand more surely and moved toward it. He stopped just inside the door so that should anyone be seeking them out they could be seen, but their words would not be easily heard. Returning his attention to Elizabeth, he reached for her other hand and brought both up in between them.

The urgency in his voice and the action caused apprehension to well within Elizabeth, and feeling she could wait no longer for him to begin, she returned his hold and said earnestly, “I wish you would share what troubles you, Fitzwilliam.”

Sighing in resignation, he answered quickly, “I had a visit from my aunt, Lady Matlock.”

Elizabeth paled slightly, and though she knew him too well to assume he had been convinced against marrying her, she could not help but fear such a visit would weigh on him greatly. She listened anxiously as he continued, “She accused me of disregarding how difficult it will be for you once we are married; how you will possibly be treated by my acquaintances.”

“She shares what my fears were then,” Elizabeth declared quietly.

Darcy nodded, and drawing in a shaky breath he confessed, “We cannot deny that there are many places where you will be watched and assessed, and while I care nothing for their opinion of you, I am frightened that one day you will come to care. One day you may come to resent being Mrs. Darcy, for being her will expose you to the society of those who are unforgiving of differences.”

He fell silent then, annoyed at the intolerant attitude he knew existed among the ton and feeling that his uncle was unhappily a perfect example of it. Elizabeth waited for him to continue, but realizing he could not yet speak after so painful an admission, she stroked his knuckles with her thumbs in the hope of giving him some comfort. Smiling at the sensation, he lowered his face to her hands and kissed their backs before turning them and kissing each palm reverently.

Pressing them surely against his chest, he whispered, “I do not know if I can watch your happiness destroyed by the venom of gossip and prejudice, but I also know that I am not strong enough to relinquish this.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” she asked fearfully.

Leveling his gaze on her, Darcy answered, “I should demand that you rethink your answer to my proposal; that you leave me.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply at this, realizing that he felt that in marrying him she was relegating herself to a life of constant speculation and the unjust remarks and treatment of society. Whether or not this was true, she could not tell, but her heart screamed that in accepting him she had done the right thing for both of them. Raising her chin confidently, she blinked back the tears that stung her eyes and lifted her hand to his cheek.

Moving her fingers lightly down it, she said softly, “You do have an appalling memory, Mr. Darcy; do you not remember that I promised to never leave you?”

Darcy’s heart beat wildly, hearing her declaration, for though he believed she would not deny him, hearing her words brought him the most profound joy. Smiling slightly, he answered that he did.

“Then hear me; I have endured much and I anticipate enduring much more,” she said, pausing as he turned his face to his her palm. Biting her lip in concentration, she continued, “But in marrying you, I also anticipate greater happiness than I have ever known. Please, do not ask me to surrender that.”

His smile broadened joyfully and he promised, “I will never ask again then.”

Elizabeth grinned happily, acknowledging his vow with a single nod before moving her hand along his jaw. Before she realized what she was doing, she moved her fingers lightly over his lips and listened as he drew a swift breath of surprise. She stepped forward slightly until she stood mere inches from him and felt his warmth so near to her own form. Standing slightly on her toes, she leaned into him and replaced her fingertips with her lips, pressing them tenderly against his.

Chapter 38: Assurances

Posted on 2009-01-12

Darcy’s eyes widened momentarily at the contact, before drifting closed, and he felt his heart pounding incessantly against his ribs. The time seemed interminable, and his hand slowly made its way to Elizabeth’s neck, where it settled against the soft skin there. He moved his lips gently with hers, and he was barely conscious of the feeling of her pulse racing beneath his fingertips. Releasing his hold on her other hand, he slowly placed his on the other side of her face; terrified to move too quickly, and desperate for the utopia he felt himself in to last only a little longer. The days of worrying over her well-being, weeks of mourning her absence, and months of desiring her melted away, and were replaced with the profound realization that she was his.

Elizabeth felt herself in a fog, her mind clouding with the sensation of him so close to her. The hand that been on his jaw fell to his shoulder, and she vaguely felt the roughness of the fine wool of his jacket against her fingers. Her conscience chastised her for her impropriety and screamed for her to mind what he would think about her after such reckless behavior. Yet, though her thoughts raced with the repercussions of such an action, she could not regret it and covered the hand on her cheek with her own.

Sighing regretfully, Darcy admitted to himself the very great danger in their situation, and in no humor to duel Mr. Bennet at dawn, he kissed her once more lightly and moved back just enough to study her face. He was delighted to see her eyes remained closed, and she bit her lip slightly as if committing to memory their closeness. He smiled broadly, and moved his thumbs over her cheeks, but started when he felt several tears roll down them.

Paling slightly, he swept them away and asked, “What is wrong, Elizabeth?”

Shaking her head in frustration at her show of emotion, she wrung her hands and whispered brokenly, “I wish so much that I could see you.”

Watching her carefully, he passed his fingers once more over her cheeks before taking her hands gently in his own and moving them to his face. He breathed deeply and confessed firmly, “I have always believed that you see me better than anyone ever could.”

She drew a trembling breath, feeling that he constantly amazed her with his care and understanding of her. Willing herself to calm, she moved her fingers lightly over his jaw and listened as he continued quietly, “I have never encountered anyone who understood me so acutely, and truth be told, I never thought I would. I always thought my fate would be a marriage of convenience. You cannot know how happy I am that I was wrong.”

Elizabeth smiled at his admission, and nodding, she declared, “I believe I know.”

Suddenly recognizing that they had tarried too long, Darcy stepped back to a respectable distance, but retained his hold of her hands. Allowing his gaze to travel languidly over her flushed countenance, he smiled guiltily and said, “You must allow me to apologize for my deplorable lack of control, Miss Elizabeth.”

Feeling the heat rise to her face quickly, Elizabeth turned her eyes toward the floorboards and admitted, “It is I who must apologize, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy’s brow furrowed slightly as she removed her fingers from his hold and added, “What must you think of me?”

Ashamed at her behavior, Elizabeth attempted to turn from him, resolving to make her way toward the drawing room. She stayed her progress when she felt Mr. Darcy lay his hands firmly on her shoulders and move closer to her. She shivered when she felt his form so close to her back, and closing her eyes, she focused on the warmth that penetrated her and waited for him to speak.

Darcy watched her reaction to him, and wishing to ease her anxiety, he moved his hands down to her elbows slowly. He felt her tremble slightly beneath his touch, and for a moment he feared she had caught a chill. Studying her carefully, his worried countenance softened when he saw a light blush spread slowly up her neck to her cheeks.

Smiling contentedly at having so profound an effect on her, he leaned toward her and whispered feelingly, “I think you everything that is lovely and worth loving.”

Elizabeth smiled slightly at the sincerity with which he spoke, and reflected that the feeling of his breath against her neck and ear was almost overwhelming. Nodding in acceptance, she quietly thanked him for the compliment before turning in his arms.

Laying her hands on his forearms, she pressed them fondly and declared reluctantly, “I believe we should join the others before we are missed.”

“We should,” Darcy answered simply, trailing the backs of his fingers down her cheek. Inclining his face slightly, he kissed her forehead slowly and said, “I love you, Elizabeth.”

Her smile broadened, and closing her eyes, she felt her heart beat wildly at his nearness. Pressing the hand that held her cheek, she answered, “And I love you, Fitzwilliam.”

Darcy released the breath he had been holding and laid his forehead against hers gently. He shook his head lightly and confessed, “And that knowledge alone could sustain me for the rest of my days.”

Stepping back unwillingly, Darcy straightened his waistcoat and cleared his throat lightly to regain his composure. Training his broad smile of elation into a small grin of happiness, he took Elizabeth’s hand gently, and guiding it to his elbow, moved out into the foyer. He watched as she pressed her other hand to her cheek in an attempt to calm the heat there.

“You look quite radiant,” he said, endeavoring to calm her.

She sighed in exasperation and declared firmly, “I thank you, sir, but you must stop speaking so.”

Darcy’s brow furrowed, and halting their progress, he inquired worriedly, “Why must I?”

Blushing more deeply, Elizabeth admitted reluctantly, “I find I cannot compose myself when you do; so I must ask that you refrain from complimenting me.”

“I do not believe I have ever heard any woman ask such a thing,” he said lightly, shaking his head in amusement. “Very well; I will not admire you at all for the rest of the afternoon!”

Smiling at his assertion, Elizabeth bowed her head in thanks and added archly, “That is very good of you.”

Feeling that life with Elizabeth would never be tedious, Darcy resumed their walk, and soon the couple arrived at the threshold of the drawing room, where he released his hold on her arm. He was grateful when Elizabeth smiled in understanding, for she, too, obviously felt it would not do to test her father’s good humor and apparent like of him too far. He watched Elizabeth move noiselessly into the room, her face turned downward in concentration and her beautiful lips moving slightly as she counted each step. She stopped just before the company, and turned her face expectantly over her shoulder toward him, waiting for him to join her. Shaking himself from his reverie, Darcy swiftly obliged, and taking a few short strides, arrived at her side.

“Ah, there you both are!” Mr. Bennet cried in exasperation, rising from his seat beside Miss Darcy. “I am afraid, Mr. Darcy, that in my daughter’s absence, your sister was forced to listen to my opinions on Shakespeare.”

Turning his grey eyes on Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet took in her rosy complexion, and pursing his lips slightly, he guessed at the cause of it. Leveling his gaze on Mr. Darcy, he raised his brow questioningly, obviously waiting for the young man to speak.

Aware of Mr. Bennet’s suspicions, Darcy blushed noticeably, and looking toward his sister, he noticed that she watched him also, an amused grin lighting her face. Feeling in no humor to be the object of their attention, Darcy raised his chin to answer, but was prevented when Elizabeth spoke.

“I am certain Miss Darcy had no objection, for I understand from Mr. Darcy that she is a great scholar of Shakespeare,” she said easily, her blithe smile returning, and her earlier embarrassment leaving her. “Forgive my lateness, Miss Darcy, but I found myself held prisoner by my cousin, Edward... King Edward, the pirate king. Mr. Darcy was kind enough to save me.”

Georgiana smiled in amusement, and recalling young Edward’s exuberance, she had no doubt Elizabeth spoke the truth. “That is quite all right, Miss Elizabeth,” she said gently.

Mr. Bennet eyed the pair carefully, untouched by Elizabeth’s tale, and shaking his head in resignation, he declared, “We should allow the ladies to enjoy their visit without gentlemen present. I believe you and I have some business to discuss, Mr. Darcy, and if my brother-in-law would not mind, we may retreat to his library.”

Mr. Gardiner quickly assented to the plan, and standing from his chair, he bowed toward Miss Darcy before moving to lead the men out of the room. Mr. Bennet moved toward her, and taking her hand, pressed it gently and said, “It has been a great pleasure speaking with you, my dear.”

Smiling, he joined Mr. Gardiner by the door and looking back toward Darcy, who still stood by his daughter’s side, he declared wryly, “I think perhaps we should begin discussing a wedding date.”

Eyeing him a final time, Mr. Bennet moved quickly from the room, followed by an amused Mr. Gardiner. Darcy felt the heat rise to his face, and closing his eyes briefly, he scolded himself for being so unguarded, so inattentive to propriety that he treated Elizabeth’s reputation so lightly.

‘It was Elizabeth who kissed you,’ his mind asserted merrily.

Biting back a smile he felt forming at the memory, he reminded himself that it was he who encouraged it by asking her to speak with him in relative seclusion. Before he could chastise himself further, he felt Elizabeth lay a gentle hand on his forearm to call his attention. Turning his gaze toward her, for his eyes had drifted thoughtfully toward the window, he saw her brow arched slightly in wonder.

“I believe it would not do to keep him waiting,” she whispered, inclining her head toward the door.

Shaking himself from his reverie fully, Darcy nodded in understanding and pressed her hand lightly. She smiled mischievously at him and despite his fear that Mr. Bennet would see him turned from the house, he grinned reluctantly in return before bowing to his sister and Mrs. Gardiner.

Elizabeth listened as he departed and shook her head, feeling quite guilty for causing her intended such trouble. Sighing, she resolved that she had no wish to regret her actions and instead would cherish the memory of their moments alone. Counting the final steps toward the chair nearest the fire, she lowered herself into it and smoothed her skirts about her feet. She listened as her aunt called for tea, and smiling in Miss Darcy’s direction, she was prepared to ask her for the pleasure of playing a duet with her, but was interrupted by Jane’s entrance.

Glancing over her shoulder in confusion and forgetting Miss Darcy’s presence, Jane asked, “Whatever has happened to Mr. Darcy? He looks like he is about to meet the executioner!”

Elizabeth pressed her hand to her mouth to hide her broad smile, and she heard Jane draw a sharp breath, obviously recognizing her error. She had no doubt Jane stood pale and wide-eyed before Miss Darcy, but much to Elizabeth’s surprise and pleasure, Miss Darcy stifled a small giggle. Turning in wonder toward her new friend, Elizabeth listened happily as the girl began laughing heartily.

Jane watched Miss Darcy press a carefully stitched handkerchief to her eyes to stop the merry tears that fell from them, and moving swiftly toward the seat beside her, Jane declared, “You must forgive me, Miss Darcy for saying such a thing.”

Breathing deeply to calm her merriment, Miss Darcy said, “It is quite all right, Miss Bennet; I am certain he looked just as you said. My brother is quite good at brooding.”

Mrs. Gardiner and her nieces joined Miss Darcy’s laughter, and in moments they all felt quite easy. By the time Hannah arrived, the younger women were happily engrossed in Mrs. Gardiner’s tales of her youth in Derbyshire.

In a very different part of London, many would say a far more fashionable area than Cheapside, and in a very different parlor, for the furnishings of this one were ostentatious and the fabrics garishly luxurious, sat Miss Bingley. She breathed deeply, enjoying the heady aroma coming from the steaming cup in her hands and silently thanking Mrs. Thornton for keeping only the best black tea. Sipping slowly, she allowed the liquid to warm her, and raising her chin, she listened interestingly to Mrs. Rochfort’s amusing dialogue.

“You cannot imagine how horrid it looked,” she said seriously. “I told the milliner that I will not be seen at Lady Markby’s in such a horrid shade of blue. I had her tear it to pieces and begin again. After this purchase, I do not know that I shall visit her again!”

Mrs. Thornton shook her head in disappointment, declaring, “And they usually do such fine work... quite a pity. But I find you must be on your guard at every instant with such people; they will do what they please, when they please, and your gown will suffer for it.”

“You are right,” Mrs. Rochfort admitted unhappily. “Certainly I allowed her far too much freedom in the design, and she simply took advantage of the fact.”

From her place by the side board, where she retrieved a small slice of cake, Miss Thornton asserted coolly, “In my experience, merchants can be very artful people. You must be wary of them; there is rarely an honest one among them.”

Smiling at her daughter indulgently, Mrs. Thornton agreed heartily and added to the company, “Gwendolyn has an excellent sense of character.”

The women twittered lightly with laughter, and Miss Bingley, whose own fortune laid in trade, turned her attention to her tea in effort to hide her discomfort. She blushed, wondering how Miss Thornton would have received her father in the early days of his business, and if she would have viewed him so harshly. Pushing back such anxious thoughts, she reflected that it would not do to think on such a thing.

Smiling brightly, she declared, “She most certainly does, Mrs. Thornton. I know none so observant as she.”

Miss Thornton inclined her head slightly, accepting the compliment with silent grace, her mouth set in an impassive line. Sweeping her pale yellow silk skirts aside, she moved back toward her seat near her mother, and resuming it, turned her dazzling brown eyes on Miss Bingley.

“How is your dear brother, Miss Bingley?” she asked, her light brow arching with the question. “We have hardly heard anything of him; it seems he has hidden himself away these last two weeks! One would think he has quit the human race for good!”

Setting her cup aside, Miss Bingley pursed her lips slightly, recalling the many unpleasant discussions she had been subject to since her brother’s revelation of her deception. Replacing her easy smile and laughing lightly, she confessed, “He has been quite occupied with business as of late.”

“It is good he is so industrious,” Mrs. Rochfort said curtly. “Young men rarely are.”

“Though he seems quite a different young man since his return from the country,” Mrs. Allen observed, and her interest now piqued, she tore her attention from the oil painting above the fine mantle. “I do not believe that country air is as healthy as they say.”

Intrigued by her friend’s assertion, Mrs. Rochfort eyed Miss Bingley carefully and added, “Or perhaps he is merely crossed in love.”

Blushing slightly, she remembered her brother’s unannounced journey to Hertfordshire to retrieve Mr. Bennet the week before. He had returned from his visit to Gracechurch Street and immediately sought her and their sister out to explain the reason for his departure.

“I shall fetch their father for them,” he had declared anxiously, his light eyes wide with worry. “I am certain it will bring Miss Bennet much comfort to have him there while her sister, God willing, recovers.”

“Oh, Charles,” Miss Bingley began, “You take too much upon yourself; allow their uncle to go, for I am certain his business can not be so very pressing as to prevent him.”

She had smirked slightly at her joke, turning her amused eyes on her sister, but started when her brother appeared swiftly by her side. He looked down on her, his eyes a mixture of disappointment and incredulity.

Shaking his head sadly, he declared, “You astound me, Caroline. I shall go to Hertfordshire; it is the least I can do for wounding Miss Bennet and her family in such a way.”

With that, he had turned from her and quickly departed, his riding boots banging angrily against the floorboards as he made his way down the hallway. She recalled studying him from the window as he descended the stairs toward the street, and was astonished to see him climb into Mr. Darcy’s carriage. Her mind raged at the memory; the presence of Mr. Darcy’s fine conveyance surely meant that, like her brother, he had been at Gracechurch Street. Taking up her teacup, she gripped it firmly and returned her attention to Mrs. Rochfort.

Forcing a smile to her face, she asserted, “I assure you that is not the case.”

Mrs. Rochfort looked disappointedly to Mrs. Thornton, who being a keen observer of those around her, noted Miss Bingley’s brief look of dissatisfaction. Sipping her tea delicately, she said indifferently, “That is surprising, because I would have thought his affections quite engaged by the young woman we saw him speak with at the orchestra.”

Coloring slightly, Miss Bingley asked, “What young lady was that?”

Turning to her daughter, Mrs. Rochfort declared, “Gwendolyn, you are far better with names. What were the names of Mr. Darcy’s company that night; those he introduced us to before the performance?”

Miss Thornton looked thoughtful for a moment before stating flatly, “Gardiner; the man and woman were Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.”

Pausing, she bit her lip slightly to control the jealousy she felt well slightly within her as she recalled the Gardiners’ beautiful nieces, more specifically, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who Mr. Darcy was quite attentive to throughout the evening. “And their nieces, the Miss Bennets,” she added evenly.

“Ah, yes; you are very right,” Mrs. Thornton declared happily. “It seems Mr. Darcy is not the only one to be charmed by a Miss Bennet; I was certain your brother was quite taken with the elder one, Miss Bingley.”

“Not at all,” she answered uneasily, the memory of Eliza Bennet remaining so near Mr. Darcy for the entirety of the performance.

Mrs. Allen sat up quickly and inquired, “Are these the very Miss Bennets we noticed at your ball, Miss Bingley?”

Her lips tightening angrily, she said shortly, “The very same.”

Turning to her friend, Mrs. Allen cried, “I cannot believe Mr. Darcy is still keeping company with that woman! Has he no regard for what people will say about it?”

“I have it on very good authority that Mr. Darcy’s carriage was seen at Gracechurch Street each day this week,” Miss Thornton declared brusquely, her voice etched with resentment as she remembered her chambermaid’s telling her of it the previous day.

“That is just incredible!” Mrs. Allen exclaimed, leaning back on the settee and fanning herself feverishly.

Mrs. Thornton watched her daughter carefully, noting the look of disappointment that veiled her brilliant eyes. She would be a fool to deny that she, like other mothers in their circle, wished for Mr. Darcy as a son-in-law, and sighing slightly, she said, “Young men can be rather foolish.”

Setting her tea down more forcefully than she intended, Miss Bingley declared hotly, “Not Mr. Darcy; he is above such ridiculous fancies. His attentions to Miss Eliza Bennet are nothing but charity.”

Smiling slightly, Miss Thornton added, “Even if she had a significant dowry, his family would never allow him to marry her.”

Nodding vehemently, Miss Bingley said, “I agree.”

“Let us hope for Miss Darcy’s sake that you are right, my dears,” Mrs. Thornton professed. “That poor girl’s prospects would be utterly destroyed.”

The rest of the women agreed, shaking their heads sadly as they imagined the loneliness and obscurity Miss Darcy would experience should her brother commit such a folly. The clock ticked lightly on the mantle, and for some minutes, the only other noise was the light clinking of spoons as the women absently stirred their tea. Drinking the liquid slowly, Miss Thornton studied the fine pitcher of hothouse roses on the far end table, her dark eyes following the lines of the petals before settling on their thorned stems. Pursing her lips slightly, she contemplated them before returning her attention to the company.

“Whatever Mr. Darcy may decide,” she began steadily, “You must see that your own brother makes an intelligent match, Miss Bingley. It would not do to have two eligible young men ruined.”

Leveling her gaze on Miss Thornton, Miss Bingley felt a sudden sense of camaraderie, and nodding her agreement, she answered, “I shall.”

It was not long after that Miss Bingley confessed a need to join her sister at the shops, and rising from her seat, she thanked Mrs. Thornton for her hospitality. Smiling easily, she declared, “You must come and dine with Louisa and me quite soon.”

Mrs. Thornton pressed her hand lightly and said, “We shall when the first convenient moment arises.”

Her smile faltered slightly at such an answer, and curtseying gracefully, Miss Bingley said her farewells to the rest of the company. Miss Thornton rose from her seat, and gesturing toward the hallway, blithely offered to see her to the door. Accepting pleasantly, Miss Bingley followed her out of the parlor. As they walked, she studied the young woman beside her; Miss Thornton must have been more than two years her junior, yet she carried herself elegantly, her shoulders poised and movements noiseless. Miss Bingley allowed her gaze to travel down her form, noting the fashionable cut of her afternoon dress and feeling unhappily that should she wear something similar, she would not look as well in it. Frowning slightly, she accepted her cloak and bonnet from the footman before turning to her young hostess.

Carefully arranging the bow of her bonnet at her neck, Miss Bingley smiled tightly and declared, “Thank you for the lovely afternoon, Miss Thornton.”

“You are very welcome,” she replied, an easy smile appearing on her flawless face. “I found our conversation quite... enlightening.”

Her color heightening, Miss Bingley could only nod and listen as Miss Thornton added, “If Mr. Darcy should marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet, his cousin will be quite desolated by it.”

“Cousin?” Miss Bingley asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Miss Anne de Bourgh,” Miss Thornton declared simply.

Miss Bingley’s eyes widened slightly, recalling her brother mentioning some time ago, Mr. Darcy’s aunt’s hopes that he would offer for her daughter and see the great houses of Rosings and Pemberley united. Mr. Darcy had apparently heartily disapproved of such a plan, and Miss Bingley had often wondered how the young lady felt. Sliding her leather gloves over her hands, she listened intently as Miss Thornton continued.

“A pity that Lady Catherine is not apprised of Mr. Darcy’s actions so that she might prepare her daughter for her disappointment,” she said innocently.

Miss Thornton watched in satisfaction as Miss Bingley’s gaze suddenly locked with her own in understanding, and nodding slightly, she smiled slowly. “I wish you a good day, Miss Bingley. I shall see that my mother and I call at Grosvenor Street in the next day or two,” she declared pleasantly.

“I look forward to it,” Miss Bingley answered, smiling in return and curtseying once more.

Turning on her heel, she slipped swiftly out the large oak door and into the brisk afternoon. Miss Thornton observed her go, watching her until the Bingleys’ carriage pulled away. Pressing her hand lightly to her head to assure that the intricate curls remained as they should, Miss Thornton then smoothed her skirts. Moving back down the hallway, she allowed her smile to widen and she clasped her hands lightly in happiness, feeling that she could not wait to call on Miss Bingley, and hoping some progress would be made by then.

Mrs. Hurst sat at her desk in the drawing room, studying the household accounts carefully. She shook her head lightly, and sighed heavily when her eyes fell on her husband’s extravagant purchase of a new musket the previous day. When questioned about it, he declared that he hoped to use it the next time they ventured to Hertfordshire, for he had never experienced better quail hunting than he had there. Laying her pen aside, she settled back in her seat, her shoulders pressing against the comfortable back of the chair. She reflected on her brother’s reunion with Miss Bennet at the orchestra, and wondered if a return to Netherfield would be forthcoming. Smiling slightly, she could not deny she was pleased to see her brother’s spirits returned over these last days, and though she could not wholly approve of Miss Jane Bennet as a sister, she felt that she would accept her if it meant seeing Charles healthy.

‘If they do marry, I must see that they move from Netherfield at the earliest opportunity,’ she thought wryly. ‘Even my brother’s saintly patience would break beneath Mrs. Bennet’s constant visiting.’

She laughed lightly at the thought, and hearing the door open, she turned to see her sister arrive. Smiling, she rose from her seat and greeted her.

“Would you like some refreshment before we venture out again?” Mrs. Hurst asked, moving to her sister’s side. “We have quite a few errands, and I would not want you exhausted before supper.”

Miss Bingley waved her hand dismissively and declared, “No, no; I shall be fine.”

Looking past her sister toward the desk, she added evenly, “I would like a moment before we depart though; I have been neglecting my correspondence.”

Mrs. Hurst’s brow furrowed slightly, feeling that unlike their brother, her sister paid the utmost attention to the post. Shaking her head, she declared, “Not at all.”

Miss Bingley thanked her, and gathering her skirts, moved swiftly past her and sat upon the chair Mrs. Hurst had just abandoned. She immediately sought out parchment and looked thoughtfully out the window as she dipped the pen carefully. Mrs. Hurst walked slowly to the settee, her eyes never leaving her sister’s form. Lowering herself onto the comfortable cushions, she reflected that her sister’s mouth was set in a grim, determined line. A moment later, the only sounds in the room were the crackling of the wood inside the hearth and the swift scratching of Miss Bingley’s pen tip against the page.

“May I ask what missive is so important that answering it could not wait until later?” Mrs. Hurst inquired, taking up her needlework in an effort to seem unaffected by her sister’s silence and resolute writing.

Miss Bingley paused, and glancing over her shoulder, declared, “I am answering no letter. I am merely apprising someone of a situation that greatly concerns me.”

Fearing something horrible had occurred to one of their acquaintances, Mrs. Hurst quickly inquired what her sister spoke of. She was only slightly relieved when her sister revealed, “I am not writing to an acquaintance of ours, but a stranger about a dear friend.”

Exasperated with her sister’s secrecy, Mrs. Hurst rose from her seat and crossed the room, declaring, “I do not know why you persist in this mystery; whoever are you writing to?”

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” Miss Bingley answered shortly, returning her attention to the page and resuming her swift strokes.

Mrs. Hurst watched the parchment fill quickly with her sister’s lines, and biting her lip thoughtfully, she attempted to recall how she knew Lady Catherine. Raising her head in realization, she asked incredulously, “Mr. Darcy’s aunt?”

“The very one,” Miss Bingley declared triumphantly, signing her name to the message happily.

“Whatever have you to say to her if you have never met?” Mrs. Hurst inquired, her confusion growing.

Miss Bingley smirked slightly before taking up the letter and rising from her seat. “I am merely expressing my worry over her nephew’s welfare,” she said innocently.

“Has something happened to Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Hurst asked fearfully, pressing her hand to her chest.

“No, not at all,” Miss Bingley declared, moving to the settee and sitting down. Her mouth fell into an unhappy line, and breathing deeply, she declared seriously, “But if his closest friends do not do something, I fear his reputation will be irrevocably damaged.”

Mrs. Hurst’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she lowered herself into the seat beside her sister; she very much doubted Mr. Darcy could do anything that would threaten his faultless reputation. “Caroline... ” she began, but was hushed by her sister raising her hand to silence her.

“Allow me to explain,” Miss Bingley said. Raising the page she held, she began to read:

19 January

Lady Catherine de Bourgh,

Forgive me, madam for addressing you without a proper introduction, but recently I have become apprised of some news that greatly affects your family, and hearing much your own impeccable nature, I could not refrain from writing you. My brother is a dear friend of your nephew, Mr. Darcy, so you may be entirely assured of the truthfulness of my statements as well as the goodness of my intentions.

During the fall, Mr. Darcy accompanied my family on our journey to Hertfordshire; an area of no consequence except surely to those who live there. Whilst staying at my brother’s estate, your nephew became acquainted with many of the local families, and as it is a very small neighborhood, he was much in their company at assemblies and parties. As he possesses such a generous spirit, undoubtedly much like yours, he conversed with them and gained a deeper acquaintance. It was during these times I began to notice his growing friendship with a young woman of the area named Miss Elizabeth Bennet. This fact did not alarm at first, for I felt your nephew, who is all kindness, was merely being charitable to the girl.

They have since been reintroduced here in London, and I must say, I have become increasingly concerned for Mr. Darcy. Miss Bennet, who has no significant dowry to speak of and no prospects, has been seen often in his and Miss Darcy’s company. While I would not normally interfere in the affairs of others, I feel I must warn you; Miss Bennet is entirely unsuited for your nephew. I cannot know how she imposed herself upon him, but I assure you that she has little experience in society, and is an entirely unacceptable example for your young niece, of whom she has become a great friend. Sadly, Miss Bennet is blind, and though this is no reason to censure her, but instead pity her, she has no idea that she could so easily be his ruin. He has no doubt been dazzled by her wit and beauty, for I know Mr. Darcy to be a sensible man of even temper. He would never willingly or knowingly place his family’s future happiness in danger.

I hope you will consider what I have revealed to you, for while Miss Bennet is a kind and intelligent creature, she should not presume to seek to enter a sphere in which she was not brought up, nor aptly prepared for.

May God bless you,

Miss Caroline Bingley

Finishing her reading, Miss Bingley drew a deep breath and smiled in satisfaction, feeling that she could not have done better. She folded the letter, and glancing briefly at her sister, who still sat silent, she moved toward the desk to fetch the wax and candle.

“This is cruel, Caroline,” Mrs. Hurst declared softly, her light grey eyes rising to her sister’s form. “Why ever are you saying such things?”

“I say them because they are true,” Miss Bingley answered easily, pressing the seal of the letter and setting the candle aside. “She is not his equal.”

Rising from her seat, Mrs. Hurst picked up her skirts and strode purposefully forward. Her jaw set firmly, so disappointed was she with her sister. Shaking her head, she declared firmly, “And neither are you.”

Miss Bingley stayed her movements and turned her shocked gaze on her sister. She listened in astonishment as her sister continued, “You cannot imagine that even if Mr. Darcy had never met Miss Elizabeth that he would choose to marry you.”

“Hold your tongue, Louisa,” Miss Bingley said, her stare turning hard. “I will not listen to this.”

She picked up the missive, and crossing the room swiftly, rang the bell for Fossett. Turning toward her sister, she smiled triumphantly and added, “That may be true, dear sister, but you cannot believe that Miss Eliza Bennet, a blind pauper, should be marrying him.”

Mrs. Hurst remained silent, studying her sister carefully and reflecting that she hardly knew her anymore. Sighing sadly, she declared, “Elizabeth Bennet is a kind and gentle woman. I cannot know how Mr. Darcy feels, but he could do much worse.”

Looking pointedly at her sister, Mrs. Hurst gathered her skirts tightly in her fists and moved swiftly toward the door. When she was in the doorframe, she turned slowly to regard her sister once more before stating, “Our brother shall know of this.”

With that, she turned on her heel and moved quickly from the room. Miss Bingley listened to her sister retreating down the hallway, her heels clicking agitatedly against the floorboards. Looking down at the note in her hands, she studied it, moving her fingers over the direction thoughtfully. She heard Fossett greet her quietly, and raising her head, she squared her shoulders and held the note out to him.

Mr. Bennet glanced over the parchment in his hand once more, before smiling slightly and removing his spectacles. Lowering the sheet, he settled back into his chair and raised his eyes to regard Mr. Darcy, who stood gazing into the fire, his arm against the mantle and his fingers tapping anxiously against the roughly hewn wood. He took advantage of Mr. Darcy’s inattentiveness to study him, noting that while the young man’s height and deportment still intimidated, his manner had significantly softened since their introduction in Hertfordshire. No longer did he shrink from conversation or turn his gaze on anyone derisively; products of his absolute discomfiture in society.

‘No,’ Mr. Bennet reflected pleasantly, ‘No; he is an entirely different man.’

His smile broadened slightly thinking that his Lizzy had been the cause of it. He knew that they would do well together, both seemingly complimenting the other’s tastes and humor, but he still feared what the world would do to them. Having no doubt that Elizabeth could endure whatever might be said about her, he hoped that Mr. Darcy showed the same fortitude. Looking at him now, seeing him shift his feet slightly before laying his forehead against his forearm, Mr. Bennet’s brow furrowed as he surmised the reason for Mr. Darcy’s apparent agitation; the poor man feared he would at any moment withdraw his consent. With this realization, Mr. Bennet raised his gaze to Mr. Darcy’s face and saw his lips moving slightly in silent prayer. Though he felt guilty for causing the young man such worry by taking so long to sign his name to the document he held, Mr. Bennet was happy to have witnessed such a moment of weakness in the usually composed Mr. Darcy. This, coupled with his daughter’s earlier happiness, quieted Mr. Bennet’s worries and convinced him that Mr. Darcy’s devotion to his daughter would never waver regardless of the difficulties. Smiling pleasantly, he cleared his throat lightly and was delighted to see the young man jump, for he had obviously forgotten another was present.

Darcy turned his dark eyes to Mr. Bennet to study him intently and he clasped his hands behind his back in an effort to quiet his rising heartbeat. Swallowing painfully, he willed his voice steady and asked, “Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?”

“It is,” Mr. Bennet said simply before taking up his pen and signing his name to the paper.

The effect of such simple words was immediate, and Darcy released the breath he had been holding. He felt the tension lessening in his shoulders, and smiling blissfully, he strode toward the desk and extended his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Bennet,” he declared, his voice choked with happy emotion.

Mr. Bennet clasped his hand firmly and answered, “You are very welcome; you cannot really have had any worry though, could you? This settlement is so generous that I feel any father would be a mad man not to accept it.”

Lowering himself into the seat across from his future father, Darcy admitted, “You are not like any other father. You wish something more for her.”

“I confess I do,” Mr. Bennet said easily.

He raised his gaze from the paper to Mr. Darcy and added quietly, “And I believe she has found it.”

Darcy could only smile at so profound a compliment, and bowing his head slightly, he accepted it silently. He watched as Mr. Bennet rose from his seat, folding the parchment carefully and moving around the desk to stand before him. He held it out to him, and thanking him quietly, Darcy took the papers and stowed them carefully in the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Shall we return to the ladies then?” Mr. Bennet asked a little loudly, his gaze drifting to where his brother dozed quietly by the fire. “I think the ladies will have wondered what I have done with you; I cannot have my daughter thinking I murdered her intended.”

Darcy smiled and bit back a laugh when Mr. Gardiner started in his seat and declared, “I am prepared for luncheon!”

Mr. Bennet clapped Mr. Gardiner lightly on the back and said, “I am sorry to say, Edward, but we have already had lunch.”

Blushing slightly and realizing his error, Mr. Gardiner stood from his seat and smoothed the creases from his waistcoat. “Forgive me,” he answered lightly. “I seemed to have nodded off for a moment.”

Smirking in amusement, Mr. Bennet led the way out into the hallway and Darcy followed behind Mr. Gardiner. When they approached the drawing room, he heard the happy sounds of laughter and immediately recognized them as his sister’s light giggle followed by Elizabeth’s unguarded and hearty mirth. He smiled, feeling that in the coming months and years, Georgiana would bloom with the example of Elizabeth’s easy temper, and God willing, would continue to open her heart again. Pausing in the doorway, he watched the pair listening attentively to Miss Bennet’s story. His moment of observing them in secrecy passed, however, when Mr. Bennet greeted them.

“I hope you have not missed us too terribly,” he declared happily.

Elizabeth smiled slightly, her face turning expectantly in their direction. Her eyes held a slight apprehension, and Darcy immediately recognized she wished for some assurance that her father had approved of his arrangements for her. Darcy looked toward Mr. Bennet, who caught his eye and inclined his head in his daughter’s direction. Smiling, Darcy swiftly crossed the room to stand before Elizabeth and take her hand gently in his. He kissed her fingers lightly in greeting, before stepping a respectable distance away.

The rest of the company smiled at the pair, feeling that they had been quite forgotten and in an effort to draw back Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy’s attention, Mrs. Gardiner cleared her throat lightly and said, “You sister tells us you are a musician, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy started at the mention of his playing, and looking to Georgiana in surprise, he managed to declare simply, “I would not call myself such.”

“Mr. Darcy is being modest,” Mr. Bennet interjected, following his brother to the couch near the window. “I had the pleasure of hearing him, and although my mind was preoccupied, the ease with which he played did not escape me.”

Elizabeth smiled delightedly and asked, “Will you play for us now, Mr. Darcy?”

Blushing heavily, he answered uneasily, “I rarely perform in company.”

“This is true, Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana said gently, looking on her brother apologetically for bringing such attention to him. “He can only be persuaded to play in company if it is a duet.”

“Georgiana... ” he began warningly, turning his dark gaze on her.

Elizabeth clapped happily, and standing from her seat, she declared, “Well then, he shall be persuaded now, for I am very much inclined to play a duet.”

She quickly asked if Jane would bring an extra chair to the pianoforte, and smiling brightly, she moved across the room until her fingers encountered the instrument’s hard frame. Moving behind it, she lowered herself onto the bench and arched her brow expectantly.

“Will you not join me, Mr. Darcy?” she asked easily, her green eyes alight with mischief.

Darcy shook his head at Georgiana, noting unhappily that she smiled slightly at his discomfiture. Sighing deeply, he moved toward Elizabeth and quietly thanked Miss Bennet for the chair she had brought. She answered only with a compassionate smile before rejoining her aunt on the settee. Twisting his ring in agitation, Darcy looked down on Elizabeth, and his breath caught. She smiled radiantly at him; her complexion returned to its customary bloom and her eyes held nothing but the happiness she felt. Feeling he could do naught but please her, he sat upon the chair and adjusted the tails of his coat.

Elizabeth listened to the chair creak beneath his weight, and grinning broadly, she said, “You should know that I do not play duets unless I am certain my partner is proficient, for I cannot detect when they are going to make an error until it is too late.”

“How do you know I am a suitable partner?” he inquired, removing his signet ring from his small finger and laying it atop the instrument.

Shrugging lightly, she declared, “I trust you.”

Darcy smiled for the first time since the company had encouraged him to play and said, “Thank you.”

Laying her fingers on the keys, Elizabeth felt the coolness of the ivory and reflected how much she missed it. Turning toward her companion, she inquired what he wished to play, and after some debate, they chose a pleasing Scottish ballad and determined that she should take the upper bars and he the lower. She felt him move to poise his own hands above the keyboard and she inhaled sharply when she felt his shoulder graze hers slightly. Biting her lip, she willed her pulse to quiet and silently prayed she would not make a fool of the both of them. She listened intently as he breathed deeply before pressing down the first sonorous chords. The beginning measures were his and Elizabeth was glad of it, for it afforded her the opportunity to become absorbed by his playing.

He pressed the keys softly, drawing from them the light feelings of the piece. He silently thanked his mother for her insistence that he play so often, for in doing so, he recalled many of tunes he had learned. Looking toward Elizabeth, he picked up his left hand and crossed over hers to reach an upper note, but in doing so, allowed his fingers to gently graze the back of her hand. He smiled mischievously as he watched her shiver almost imperceptibly at the touch.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply, and shaking her head at her silliness, she forced her attention to return to the notes and recognized that the next measure would begin her part. Lifting her wrists in anticipation, she joined him flawlessly, and her playing melded evenly with his. She smiled, feeling that not even Mary, who devoted hours to her practices, had been able to match her in a duet, and laughing lightly, she reflected that the man beside her surprised her with each passing day.

Both were unaware of the effect their playing had on the others in the room, and had they known or cared to know, they would have noticed how quiet it had become. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner looked toward one another, smiling, while Mr. Bennet observed the pair and shook his head in amusement. Miss Darcy smiled softly, feeling that Elizabeth would bring such joy to their existences. From her place beside her aunt, Jane observed Elizabeth carefully, and she could not help but feel elated that her sister had found such happiness. When Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had reached the final measure, Jane’s eyes turned slightly sullen, for her mind had filled with images of Mr. Bingley. She pressed her hand to her heart, reflecting that she wished desperately for him to call on them, and wondered fretfully when he would.

Elizabeth listened as Mr. Darcy’s playing drifted away, leaving her to finish the final bar alone, and smiling toward him, she pressed the last chords slowly, allowing their notes to echo through the room. The pair raised their fingers from the keys together, their attention still drawn by the other, and only when the company clapped appreciatively did they shake themselves from their reverie.

Rising from his seat, Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and guided her from the bench to stand before the others. She smiled brightly and accepted their praises gracefully. Darcy watched her, feeling that he wished he might learn some of her ease, for when Mr. Gardiner patted him lightly on the shoulder, he blushed heavily at receiving such attention.

“Very impressive, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said as he tucked her arm against his side and escorted her to a seat across the room.

Smiling, Darcy declared, “I am happy you approve, Miss Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth listened as Jane applied to Miss Darcy for a piece, and she smiled when she heard the young girl accept quietly. She heard them move toward the instrument, and was pleased when she felt Mr. Darcy sit beside her.

“Why did you never mention that you played?” she asked him seriously.

“It is not something I was encouraged to speak of in company,” he said evenly. “My father was never very pleased with my playing. He indulged it at my mother’s insistence, but I always felt he thought my time was better spent on philosophy and mathematics.”

Elizabeth nodded as he added, “Since I first heard you play, I have often envisioned us playing together in Pemberley’s music room.”

She smiled at the image, pleased to hear that, like her, he had for so long thought of what a life with her would be like. Blushing slightly, she answered, “We may play every day if you like.”

“I would like that very much,” he declared, imagining the many hours they would spend in each other’s company.

They fell silent then, each thinking on the happiness that would be theirs one day and feeling impatient for it. Recalling his desire to introduce his cousin to her, Darcy inquired abruptly, “Would you and your family be available to dine with Georgiana and me tomorrow evening?”

Elizabeth bit her lip fretfully and said, “That depends upon Mr. Byatt’s opinion on my progress. Should he deem me unfit for venturing out of doors, I do not believe Papa would yield no matter how much I begged.”

“And Mr. Byatt will arrive soon?” Darcy asked.

She nodded and asserted, “He is to be here before four.”

“Good,” Darcy said simply.

Glancing toward the rest of the company, he noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet were quite engrossed in listening to Georgiana and Miss Bennet’s playing, and smiling happily, Darcy reached to clasp Elizabeth’s hand tightly. She turned her attention to him immediately, her brow arching in curiosity.

“I wish for you to meet my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Darcy declared seriously. “Next to you and Georgiana, he is my dearest family.”

Both fell silent with the gravity of his words, the admittance that he viewed her in such a way. Elizabeth smiled slowly, replaying his words and realizing that she had come to have so important a place in his life.

Nodding, she said, “I would be honored to make his acquaintance.”

Darcy’s dark eyes lit happily, and raising Elizabeth’s hand, he kissed her knuckles slowly before cradling it against his chest. Smiling, he whispered sincerely, “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth returned the pressure of his hold and smiled contentedly. Closing her eyes, she allowed the sounds of Miss Darcy’s playing to surround her and she felt that despite whatever difficulties they might face, being in his company in this way was entirely worth any struggle.