Section I, Next Section
Chapter 1
November, 1837
Pemberley
The daunting task of speech-making fell upon Alexander Fitzwilliam Darcy, the first-born son of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. The young man was not happy with the prospect at all.
"But you must!" insisted his youngest sister Lizzy. "You must make a pretty speech on our behalf, and toast Papa and Mama on their anniversary! Twenty-five years together! Imagine that! Although, sometimes, they still act like newlyweds!"
"Why don't you make the speech, Lizzy?" replied Alexander in a gruff voice. "You are doing superbly well."
"You are the oldest, and we give you our due respect," said James, two years his junior. "Come now, big brother, you are admirably gifted in the art of oratory - all the prizes you won at Cambridge. Surely, singing praises of our parents and of Uncle and Aunt Bingley should be an easy task!"
"I can make speeches on politics, history, philosophy, or even scientific methods of farming. But of marital love, I cannot find the words."
"Surely, we bear witness to our parents' great devotion to each other - we have daily proof of it. You are not inspired with any celebratory words to express such connubial bliss?" exclaimed his sister Jane.
"No," replied Alexander. "I can only say, with genuine sincerity, that they are the happiest couple in the world. I find mere words utterly and completely inadequate to describe the kind of love our parents have for each other. I, for one, shall not try."
With that, Alexander Darcy turned and stalked out of the drawing room.
"Oh! He can be so infuriating!" said Jane with a deep frown.
"He looks just like Papa when he is in such a stern mood," agreed Lizzy.
At four and twenty, Alexander Fitzwilliam Darcy was the splitting image of his esteemed father. Like his siblings, he was blessed with all the virtues and merits of both parents. The only aspect which set him apart was his grave attitude. He lacked the cheerful and lively countenance of his mother and younger siblings, and if the truth be known, he brooded deeper and moodier than his serious father. Perhaps the blessings of being the first-born son carried burdens of awesome proportions as well. From the joyous herald of his birth, young Alexander had carried the dreams and expectations of his parents and all his relations. Bright of mind and sound of health, young Alexander had an exceedingly happy childhood. The addition of younger siblings did not lessen the attentive care which his devoted parents lavished on him. Indeed, each Darcy child basked in the glory of such parental love - an extraordinary love strengthened by discipline and firm moral principles. Yet, young Alexander suffered private fears, and his misery was compounded by his inability to confide in anyone, not even his own father, of his fears. The years spent at Eton, and later at Cambridge, cultivated and broadened his keen mind, but being away from his beloved family for such extended periods of time increased his sense of isolation. He had a very small circle of trusted friends - his own brother, sisters, and cousins - but few outside his family circle.
Chapter 2
The Master of Pemberley was in very high spirits. Early this morning, his dearest wife greeted him with such a sweet kiss, and asked him teasingly if his affections and wishes had remained the same after two and half decades of marriage. In reply, he made the most earnest declaration, and devoted much effort to show her how ardent and abiding his love for her was.
"I am happier than I truly deserve," mused Mr. Darcy as he halted at the entrance to the grand drawing room. The tranquil domestic scene before him was familiar - his children gathered together in one room, talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company.
"Papa," they exclaimed in salutation, and Mr. Darcy was further rewarded with a kiss from each of his daughters. The family resemblance between the sisters was striking - although Jane, at nineteen, had a more demure and mature air about her; Lizzy, at seventeen, was irrepressibly bright and vivacious, and a truer image of her mother.
"Father, everything is in readiness for the anniversary ball," reported James with a broad smile. "We only need to await the arrival of our guests."
"Very good, James," smiled Darcy. "I am proud that you have all assisted your dear mother with the preparations. Indeed, after all these years, it still amazes me how successfully your mother hosts our various traditional fetes and maintains our household in such tranquil order. She weaves her own special magic."
The object of Mr. Darcy's admiration appeared at that very moment. He felt her presence even before she entered the drawing room, so he turned instinctively to greet her. As always, the very sight of his dearest and loveliest Elizabeth took his breath away.
"You are enchantment itself," Mr. Darcy murmured as he took his wife's gloved hand and bestowed a gentlemanly kiss upon it.
"Very gallant of you to say so, my dear Mr. Darcy," she replied with mirthful smile. "I only hope to look tolerable enough to make you glance my way, and perhaps, tempt you to waltz with me at least once tonight."
Mr. Darcy regarded his wife with an appreciative eye. At five and forty, Mrs. Darcy's figure remained slim and graceful. The passing years had not diminished her beauty at all. Rather, her natural loveliness was enhanced by her maturity and dignity. Her fine dark eyes shone with added luster this evening. In her husband's eyes, she looked even more beautiful now than the day they wed, and in his heart, she was infinitely dearer.
"Oh, my own Lizzy," he bent his head closer to whisper in her ear, "you know well that I never glanced at another woman since you claimed my heart. As for dancing, I gladly hold you in my arms all night . . ." He added, almost inaudibly, but with much levity, " . . .and all day too - with or without music, my sweetest darling!"
"What shockingly flirtatious sentiments! Is it now your turn to tease and to laugh at me?" Mrs. Darcy whispered back. A sudden blush overcame her face, and she stepped away from him rather swiftly. They were, after all, standing in front of their own children!
Mr. Darcy indulged himself with another loving smile at his wife. He had the advantage of having his back towards his children at the present moment. Besides, he trusted that they had the good manners to avert their gaze.
Of course, Mr. Darcy was correct in his assumption. The Darcy children were entirely familiar with the discreet but tender exchanges between their parents in their daily lives, but there was never any cause for embarrassment. Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy were models of propriety and respectability - indeed, paragons of virtues - and they always conducted themselves accordingly when in company. Yet, to the careful observer, a lingering look, a gentle touch, a whispered word, a slight inclination of the head, a gaze across the room - such subtle gestures were bestowed by one upon the other with such tenderness that they served as true testimony of the profound love the couple shared.
Unbeknownst to everyone present in the room, Alexander Darcy was also a witness to the tender scene. He had returned to the drawing room via a side door, and stood much closer to his parents than his siblings did. He was, therefore, privy to a more intimate view unobserved by anyone else: he caught a glimpse of the fires of passion in his father's eyes, and the radiant blush on his mother's face. Fortunately for Alexander, neither parent sensed his close presence.
"Ah, the master and his bride," were the words which came immediately into Alexander's mind. It was a popular term amongst the household servants and the tenant farmers when they spoke in reference to the Master and Mistress of Pemberley - used even to this day with respectful affection.
"Oh, shake yourself out of the doldrums!" Alexander admonished himself silently as he stepped out of the shadow of the side door.
"Alexander! You are looking well tonight," Mr. Darcy greeted his oldest son with fatherly affection. "I missed you this afternoon at the meeting with our steward."
"I am very sorry, sir," replied Alexander with a solemn smile. "I was helping Lizzy with her music, and I completely forgot about it."
"No matter," replied Mr. Darcy, although he narrowed his eyes slightly at his son.
Alexander turned to his mother, and gave her a light kiss. "Good evening, Mother."
"Good evening, dear heart," replied Mrs. Darcy. She studied her son's handsome face, and thought he looked graver than usual. Her maternal intuition told her something was amiss. She reached out to give him a light squeeze on his forearm, and simply said, "I have a few moments to spare before our guests arrive. Do you wish to talk?"
Alexander Darcy hesitated for a moment, but shook his head. "No, Mother." He gave an embarrassed laugh, and added, "I was merely preoccupied with the thought of dancing tonight. You know how I detest the frivolous exercise."
"You are too much like your dear father," exclaimed Mrs. Darcy with mocked exasperation.
"I should correct you on that point, Mrs. Darcy," replied Mr. Darcy with bemused laugh. "I enjoy the frivolous exercise when you are my partner. Therefore, my advice to you, dear son, is to find the right dance partner! It is perfectly excusable to be very particular in your choice.
"Oh, if only those old country-dances are still in fashion!" lamented Jane. "I have encountered more odious toads than gentlemen in all the balls and social routs I have attended since my Coming-out two years ago! How refreshing it would if one could keep one's dance partner at arms' length and make him conduct himself according to the strict demands of proper decorum!"
"Then one can have a decent conversation. Is it not so, Papa?" teased Lizzy.
"Or indulge in a friendly verbal sparring match if one is so inclined," agreed James with a jovial laugh.
Mr. Darcy could not help but laugh heartily, putting aside his stern dignity for the moment. His verbal skirmish with his beloved Lizzy at the Netherfield Ball of 1811 was now a favourite Darcy family anecdote.
"You never revealed to us who was the victor of your verbal skirmish," remarked James. Tall and handsome, he bore a strong resemblance to his father as well, although there was much of his mother in him. His vivid eyes reflected his innate cheerfulness buoyant by an undaunted spirit. A steadfast character with a keen mind and prudent judgment, James Darcy was, like his father and elder brother, a man one could always rely on without fear.
"It was a draw," replied Mrs. Darcy.
"Your mother won," replied Mr. Darcy gallantly.
"No, both of you won in the end," stated Alexander simply. "You won each other's esteem with your own candor and intellect. The only surrender, if one could call it so, was your own heart - one to the other. But with such a prize, each of you was a true victor."
"That is a very astute observation," said Mr. Darcy with parental pride. "I am impressed."
"Thank you, sir." Alexander smiled - his first genuine smile of the evening. He had earned praise from his father, and he was content.
The butler, Mr. Hemming, came to announce that the first carriage was approaching the main court, with others following close behind. The Darcy family made haste to greet their guests - in a formal receiving line at the grand foyer.
Pemberley Hall, always grand, never looked more magnificent. The huge crystal chandeliers overhead held seemingly hundreds of bright candles. The marble columns were bedecked with greenery, and large bouquet of flowers from the estate's greenhouses graced every corner. Everything seemed to sparkle and glitter. Yet, as Mr. Darcy surveyed his surroundings, he saw clearly his wife's exquisite taste and her preference for refined elegance. Nothing was gaudy or overly ostentatious. He turned to smile at his wife, and murmured, "Thank you."
Mrs. Darcy was well pleased with the preparations for the fete tonight, and she could only pray that the celebration itself would be as successful. Her husband's smile of approval and whispered thanks were an added feather to her cap.
"Darcy! My dear sister Elizabeth!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley jubilantly as he entered the grand foyer with his wife and family in tow.
Hearty handshakes, fond kisses in greetings, and excited conversation ensured for the next several minutes. It was a scene of domestic felicity as every member of the respective families held each other in the warmest affection and esteem. The familial bonds were forged and maintained with frequent visits between the families - their estates being only thirty miles apart in neighbouring counties. The Darcy and Bingley children, being of similar ages, grew up more as beloved siblings of a large family rather than fond cousins.
"Alexander!" Mr. Bingley gasped his nephew's hand in a warm handshake, giving a measure of distinction towards the oldest offspring of the next generation.
"Uncle Charles! How are you, sir?" replied the nephew. He smiled at his uncle with genuine pleasure despite of his inner moodiness at the moment. With his natural ease and extraordinary warmth, Uncle Charles always managed to bring a smile to his face.
"I am very well, as you see!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley.
"I am glad, sir," said Alexander before he turned to kiss his Aunt Jane, and his cousins Margaret, Isabella, and Emily. Henry Bingley, Isabella's twin, was engaged in earnest conversation with James when Mr. Hemming announced the arrival of their other guests. The grand foyer and ballroom were soon filled with friends and relations, and the celebrations commenced thereforth.
When the music commenced, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy danced the first waltz. Their connubial happiness was obvious to all. Indeed, they looked more like a pair of newlyweds, dancing harmoniously in a private world of their own rather than in the company of a couple hundred guests.
In deference to their host and hostess, Mr. Bingley waited several moments before he took the hand of his sweet wife for their own waltz. This handsome pair, with their golden hair and matching blue eyes, was another happy couple for the admiring multitude to gaze upon. Murmurs of approval ensured all around, capped by a prolonged round of applause. The Darcys and the Bingleys took their bows to acknowledge their guests, and Mr. Darcy graciously signaled for all to join in. The younger guests eagerly paired off, whilst the older guests followed in a more restrained manner. Many chose to remain as mere observers, standing nearby to chat with a neighbour or to exchange other pleasantries.
Alexander Darcy was amongst the observers. He had chosen a spot near a large potted plant so he could gain a full view of the ballroom but remained in the shadows himself. He had no desire to make conversation, and he would prefer to be in his father's library than where he was presently.
As he watched his parents waltzed together, his heart filled with filial love and admiration. Yet, at the same time, he felt a pang of despair. Would he ever be as fortunate to find such bliss in matrimony? Would he ever find someone whom . . .?
His cousin Henry Bingley interrupted his thoughts.
"Alexander! You are stand alone!" exclaimed Henry, who was blessed with his father's jovial and amicable nature. "Come, I must have you dance! There are so many lovely and agreeable young ladies here tonight! I tried to make out a list for you to choose from, but I give up after the fortieth eligible young lady. Many will swoon at your feet if you merely smile at them. You are destined to break quite a few hearts tonight by your refusal to dance and to woo, adding to all the broken hearts you left behind in London these few Seasons."
"You are highly mistaken, Henry," replied Alexander with an indulgent smile. He sensed the good-natured teasing behind his cousin's words, but he did not take offense. "As I did not court anyone, I left no broken hearts behind, in London or elsewhere. You should keep the list for your own use. You are very handsome and amiable, heir to an excellent estate and fortune. You will make an ideal husband."
"What are you two speaking of? Is this a private meeting? We must have a share of the conversation," laughed James as he joined them, with Isabella Bingley in tow.
"An excellent mimic of our great-aunt. Lady Catherine de Bourgh would be proud if she witnessed it," remarked Alexander to his younger brother.
"Thank you," bowed James with the flourish of a Drury Lane actor. "Are you brooding in the corner again, my big brother? It is not an entirely effective way to avoid being "leg-shackled." You may be able to avoid missish young ladies who speak and act only for your approbation, but their scheming mamas are very resourceful and are entirely more worrisome."
"Yes," agreed Henry with a sage nod. "They will devise a "matrimonial trap" for you sooner or later. I think it is safer to stay here in the corner all evening, until the last guest takes leave!"
"Stop making sport of poor Alexander," exclaimed Isabella. "You are trying his patience, although I must admit that he has greater forbearance than most people I know."
"Then, sweet Isabella, take pity on your poor cousin and dance with him," urged James with a serious look. "Talk to him and make him smile once or twice. Above all, convince him to make a speech on our behalf tonight. He already refused us, despite of our persistent pleads."
Alexander was reluctant to leave the sanctuary of the corner, but Isabella persisted by pulling hard on his hand. He sighed in resignation, and escorted her to the dance floor.
They talked whilst they waltzed. Alexander Darcy was a proficient if not graceful dancer. As much as he detested dancing, he was taught well by a London master.
"You dance very well, despite of all your protests!" admonished Isabella with a sweet smile.
"I was forced to learn dancing - a required social art expected of a gentleman. My own father was made to suffer through his dancing lessons when he was young, so he told me to be stoic . . .Besides, any savage can dance, including this one before you."
"I am glad my dear uncle insisted upon your lessons," smiled Isabella. "I might be bold enough to ask you for the next waltz - my elegant savage."
"I shall be happy to oblige," replied Alexander. Dancing with Isabella was not so intolerable after all. They had danced together before - countless of times during the Harvest celebrations when they were children - but they had never waltzed together until now. Indeed, Alexander was pleasantly surprised to find his younger cousin so light on her feet, with such a graceful and alluring figure. Her long golden hair was braided and arranged like a crown around her head, with tiny flowers as pretty embellishment. Her intelligent face was enhanced by a pair of vivid blue eyes. No wonder his brother James had complained more than once about fighting off other fellows in order to dance with Isabella. It was quite amazing to realize that his pretty cousin was now a beautiful young lady of one and twenty.
"You are smiling," said Isabella, interrupting his thoughts momentarily.
"Am I?"
"Yes, and you are still smiling. You have such a beautiful smile, Alexander."
"You exaggerate!" he replied amiably.
"Perhaps, but it is a very pleasant sight. You must do it more often. Too much frowning and silent brooding must not be conducive to one's good health."
"It has done no visible harm to me thus far," replied Alexander, his rare smile already fading although he was still in a light mood. "And my honoured father used to brood a lot when he was my age."
"So I have been told!" Isabella laughed heartily. "My Uncle Fitzwilliam does have a serious countenance, but he smiles whenever Aunt Elizabeth is with him. Since they are literally inseparable whenever I see them, I must say I hardly see my uncle's frowns."
"Believe me, dear cousin, my parents have their disagreements too - infrequently, but they do have heated words now and then. How awfully my father would brood!"
"You are changing the subject rather artfully, Alexander. I am more concerned about you!"
"Are you?"
"Of course, I am! You are like my very own brother! I love you as I do my own twin Henry." She smiled up at him, with the warmest affection of a devoted sister.
"Isabella, I . . ." Alexander hesitated, incapable of forming a coherent thought at that moment.
"Are you about to promise me that you will make the speech tonight?"
"No, it is too daunting a task for me," he confessed.
"I must beg you. Otherwise, both James and Henry will be very upset at me, not to mention all our other siblings."
"Well . . . I shall do it, if you promise to sit next to me when we dine."
"But I always sit between you and James! I did so at our last family gathering."
"Really?" said he incredulously. How could he not recall sitting next to her?
"I am not surprised that you have difficulty with your recollection. You hardly spoke to me. But James was sweet and attentive - a true delight - so he more than made up for your brooding silence."
"I am sure he did," he muttered under his breath, feeling a very rare pang of jealousy against his brother.
"Don't look so grievous!" she smiled sweetly, "I promise to sit next to you tonight, and we can have a memorable conversation so you will not forget me again."
"Thank you," he managed to say before his brother James appeared by their side to claim the next dance with Isabella.
"Bella, ma cherie et ma vie," exclaimed James as he swept Isabella away in his strong arms, leaving Alexander to stare after them.
Chapter 3
James Darcy was in an euphoric mood. He enjoyed the company of people, and he loved dancing. Above all, he adored his cousin Isabella Bingley. Being less than a year older, James was virtually inseparable from the Bingley twins throughout their childhood years. Now, as young adults, even as their horizon expanded and their circle of friends widened, their special bond remained as steadfast. There was not a single matter James would hesitate to discuss or confide in either Henry or Isabella. Their understanding of each other's nature was so precise that James often found his cousins knowing his mind even before he spoke.
"Well, my darling Bella," teased James as he waltzed her around with expert skills, "you have no course to take my brother's breath away just now! I have plans for such great merriment for us tonight, but now, I am afraid I have to suffer Alex's dark looks if I do not share your attention with him!"
"Don't tease!" replied Isabella earnestly. "I think it was a shock for him to see me looking so grown-up."
"Good heavens!" exclaimed James, his handsome face bore an incredulous look. "We saw you two weeks ago! Your family was here at Pemberley for dinner - for Alexander's birthday! My brother must have been blind!"
"He did not even remember sitting next to me! I must be as plain as the wall coverings!"
"You are beautiful, my sweet. You have been so since your debut ball - when you exchanged your mud-stained walking shoes for such elegant silk slippers!" James said with fond remembrance. He had gone down from Cambridge to London for Isabella's Coming-Out ball, and he had been quite startled to see such a change in her - from being his loyal companion of rambunctious antics to a demure and proper young lady. Indeed, at her Coming-Out, Isabella Bingley was unanimously acclaimed by the ton as an "Incomparable."
"I am glad that you have noticed," Isabella said blushingly.
"Much more than noticed," replied James, suddenly in a serious and earnest tone. "Darling Bella, you know my affections and wishes already. Please take pity on me, and give me an answer! When will you consent to marry me?"
"James Darcy!" exclaimed Isabella in obvious distress. "We have talked at length about this already! It is not fair of you to ask me what I cannot fairly answer! I feel far too immature to be married, even to someone as wonderful as you. There is so much in the world to see, so many interesting people to meet. I have given scant thoughts to serious matters of the heart."
"Yes, I know," replied James impatiently. He had heard her reasons many times before, and he knew them were all justifiable. She was neither being deliberately coy with him, nor toying with his feelings. She simply was not interested in matrimony yet.
"I adore you, Bella," whispered James. He had a persistent nature.
"And I you, James," answered Isabella rather breathlessly. She did adore him, and could imagine that spending her life with him would answer all her ideas of happiness. Yet, she could not bring herself to utter that particular simple word - "yes." Not yet, anyway.
James gazed at her so intently that she almost missed a step.
She gave an embarrassed laugh, and said, "Of course, there are additional reasons for not marrying yet. Quite frivolous ones, I must admit! I want to enjoy another Season, to flirt very innocently with handsome gentlemen, and to discuss the merits and defects of all my suitors with my sisters and cousins. A married woman cannot enjoy such simple pleasures. There! I have confessed the entire truth to you, James. I am a very silly girl! Our Aunt Mary will surely give me a very stern lecture - that a female should occupy her mind with higher thoughts and nobler ambition!"
"No, you are very sensible and I am too impatient. I suppose innocent flirtation is permissible," consented James, "because I am not of a jealous nature. But I draw a stern line against kissing!"
"No kissing then," promised Isabella solemnly, "not even with you."
"Bella!" exclaimed James in somber protest, "You know my meaning well! I am the only one permitted to kiss you!"
"Hush!" whispered Isabella, "You are drawing undue attention from others."
"Allow me this next dance, and I shall hold my peace," replied James, with an impish grin.
He continued his cheery chatter as they danced. As the waltz came to an end, he flirtatiously sent her an imaginary kiss, and she, in return, smiled with pleasure.
Alexander found himself rooted to the spot after his brother James claimed Isabella Bingley from his arms. He continued to stare after the couple, who was now fully engaged in lively conversation whilst they waltzed harmoniously together. James danced exceedingly well, thought Alexander with brotherly admiration. He could match James in physical prowess, but he certainly lacked his effortless grace. There were other admirable qualities James had which Alexander felt were entirely lacking in himself: his cheerful spirit, his often irrelevant humour, and his ease in recommending himself to strangers. The last particular point was most trying for Alexander. It was not excessive pride or conceit that rendered him uneasy with people - he simply lacked the inclination to speak unless absolutely necessary. He was indeed, a man of succinct words. The most ironic aspect of his nature, however, was his recognized skill at oratory. He could make lengthy and eloquent speeches on academic subjects when he so inclined, but anything of a personal nature would render him almost speechless. He was too taciturn to utter more than a few awkward words. His dear mother teased that he was one who cared not to speak at all unless he had something to say which might amaze the entire room. Her witty remark was very close to the truth, mused Alexander.
His thoughts tended to a different direction as his attention became focused upon Isabella Bingley. He could not fathom why he had never noticed her extraordinary beauty until now. Surely, this was her third season out? Indeed, even his own youngest sister Lizzy made her debut in society this Season. A quick mental calculation gave him some answers. He was not present at Isabella's debut season as he had newly completed his studies at Cambridge, and was on the requisite Grand Tour of the Continent. He subsequently stayed another year abroad, mainly in Italy and France.
During his long absence from home, his own sisters and female cousins had grown from awkward youths into elegant young adults. Upon his return, he had taken general notice of such changes, of course, but he did so only with a cursory eye of an affectionate brother. He noted their loveliness, but did not scrutinize them with critical judgment. He was more concerned with his duty to watch over them, and guard them against unprincipled suitors and immoral rakes.
Alexander took refuge in his chosen corner to clarify his thoughts. His eyes focused on the tall and imposing form of his father in the crowd. Mr. Darcy was making a circulation of the ballroom, stopping now and then to chat with his guests. Mr. Darcy did not have the air of familiarity and jovial demeanor of his brother-in-law Mr. Bingley, but he was cordial and amiable, and was without any false dignity. He turned his head to look for his wife frequently - although both were busy with their guests, they managed to exchange meaningful gazes across the grand ballroom.
"The very picture of abiding love, is it not?" remarked General Sir James Fitzwilliam as he joined Alexander at the corner. He regarded the Darcys with fondness for a reflective moment before he added, "Seeing them thus certainly warms the heart of this old soldier."
"Yes, sir!" answered Alexander respectfully. Being his cousin, and his uncle by marriage, Sir James always had a special heart in Alexander's heart. The younger man looked up to this most steadfast of men almost like his own father, and the affection was mutual.
"Your mother once remarked that it was a hopeless case between them - in the early days of their acquaintance," continued Sir James. "I am glad your father overcame his pride, and endeavoured to make himself a man worthy of your mother."
"Yes," nodded Alexander thoughtfully, "and how she overcame her own prejudices in the end. First impressions can be false, after all."
"Indeed! However, in your case, my first impression of you still holds true! From the moment I saw you, a mere infant in your proud father's arms, I knew you will grow up to be like him - the best of men."
"My father truly is the best of men. I, on the other hand, have not faced any trials and tribulations. I shall not dare to make any claims of character or honour, sir."
"When you are tested by fire, speaking figuratively of course, you will find that you are worthy of your mettle," Sir James reassured him with an affectionate pat on his back. "Your excellent parents have raised you to be a bulwark of our family, and by extension, of our realm. You are someone I am proud to call not only my relation, but my friend as well."
"Thank you for your faith in me, sir. I hope to earn it justly someday," promised Alexander solemnly.
Sir James Fitzwilliam meant well with his effusive words of praise and encouragement, but he had added to the ever-increasing weight upon Alexander's broad shoulders instead.
The greatest of Alexander's persistent fears was a very fundamental one: How he could ever hope to measure up to his father? Fitzwilliam Darcy - a name spoken by all with such high regards - the best in all aspects of his life, as a husband, a father, a brother, a friend, and the Master of Pemberley.
Alexander had often imagine how awesome a burden it was for his father to inherit Pemberley at the age of three and twenty, but he never realized the full magnitude of his father's responsibilities until he himself became familiar with the daily management of the estate. Since his return from the Continent last year, he had been under the tutelage of his father and their steward. Even with the aid of capable stewards, Alexander learned that an estate would only strive and prosper under prudent oversight by its owner. As Alexander made careful studies of the estate ledgers, he had discovered that the Darcy fortune had expanded considerably over the past three decades under his father's diligent management and wise investments. The benefits, resulted from such prosperity, were widespread, not only for their tenant farmers and dependents, but also for the surrounding villages of Lambton and Kympton as well. Yet, most people had no inkling of the full extent of Mr. Darcy's compassionate munificence and forbearance. Alexander Darcy was one of the trusted few who was privy to the full details of Mr. Darcy's dealings with the most undeserving of rogues - George Wickham.
Alexander willed himself to dispel any unpleasant thoughts of Mr. Wickham. Tonight was one of joyous celebrations, and not a time to recall the many grave offenses Uncle George Wickham had inflicted upon his relations. He redirected his attention towards his parents, and continued his musings. It was a very courageous act for his father to defy the wishes of his family and brave the wrath of his formidable aunt to wed a woman of his heart. For his valiance and his love, Fitzwilliam Darcy was rewarded with such a steadfast and loving partner in life. Would he be as blessed in love as his father, Alexander wondered.
As Alexander looked around the grand ballroom, he saw many couples within their family circle who were happily wed, but he sensed that none had the unique friendship and passion that his own parents enjoyed.
Much to his surprise, his chosen corner of seclusion soon became a very busy spot as various relatives took turn to greet him and share a few private words.
Aunt Georgiana gave her nephew a tender kiss in greeting. She brushed back his unruly dark curls from his noble brow, and said in her soft-spoken manner, "You have grown so tall and so much like your father, my dear Alexander. For a moment I felt as if I was merely thirteen, gazing up at my own big brother in awe."
"You are still very youthful, Aunt Georgiana. One can easily mistaken you for one of my younger sisters," replied Alexander gallantly as he spoke the truth. His aunt possessed that rare look of eternal youth and innocence, which enhanced her delicate and exquisite beauty.
"Oh, do not tease me so!" laughed Aunt Georgiana, her voice was clear and angelic. "Your Uncle James does take such prodigious care of me."
"You always deserves the very best, my dear," replied her husband, his demeanor was ever loving and protective. In response, Georgiana leaned ever so lightly against her dear husband, drawing strength from him, and rejoicing in the constancy of his devotion.
"Oh, Alexander!" Mr. Bingley grinned at his nephew as he clasped his shoulder in a fatherly greeting. "I was very glad to see you ventured a turn at the dance floor with Isabella. Your father used to sulk, and foolishly refused to dance with anyone outside his own party. I hope you do not take after him too much in this particular aspect!"
"Uncle Charles," replied Alexander with a smile, "my father told me that there was nothing you liked better than a country dance."
"I still like nothing better," laughed Mr. Bingley jovially. "I strongly urge you to dance again tonight. This is such a marvelous ball. I have never meet prettier and more agreeable young ladies. Enjoy yourself, my dear nephew! Even your father has followed my sage advice, granted he only did so after he married your dear mother. He is a much happier man now, I dare say!"
Mr. Bingley's honest remarks elicited much laughter.
Hearing the musical refrains for a new set, Mr. Bingley bowed respectfully, and said, "May I have the honour of the next dance, Lady Fitzwilliam? With Sir James's permission, of course."
In answer, Sir James Fitzwilliam gave his approval immediately, adding with much levity, "My dearest Georgiana always enjoy dancing with you, Mr. Bingley. I fear that I am quite lead footed at times - a common affliction of old soldiers!"
Lady Fitzwilliam smiled sweetly at her beloved husband before she allowed Mr. Bingley to lead her away. Old soldier indeed, she mused. At four and fifty, her dear James could still outride and outshoot a man half his age.
Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner, both well advanced in years but still in excellent health, joined the tidy group at the corner.
"We never knew changing our travel plans that fateful summer of 1812 could result in such wondrous happiness," remarked Mrs. Gardiner.
"My father is ever grateful to you for not visiting the Lake District. He enjoys telling us how fortunate he was to return home rather unexpectedly, one day ahead of his party, to find you visiting Pemberley with his beloved Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
"My dear boy," said Mr. Gardiner, fondly reminiscing the image of Mr. Darcy dripping wet from his impromptus swim in the lake before their chance encounter, "now that I know your father so well, I can vouchsafe to say that he would have swum the English Channel to find your dear mother. They were meant for each other, and nothing could have stop him."
Alexander Darcy was in full agreement because there was absolute truth behind Mr. Gardiner's words.
Goodwill and celebratory spirit reigned over Pemberley Hall. Mrs. Darcy's well-planned fete was a great success. The warmth of the Darcy hospitality, their sumptuous feast of superb food and fine wine, satisfied even the most persnickety guest.
At the head table sat the Darcy and the Bingley families. Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and Mr. & Mrs. Charles Bingley naturally drew the attention of everyone present. To be blissfully married for two and half decades, blessed with devoted children, as well as every comfort of life, made them the objects of much admiration and envy. Indeed, their connubial felicity had inspired many new match-making schemes amongst their guests - towards the younger generation of Darcys and Bingleys. Many a guest murmured words of approval to their neighbours as they gazed upon these fine young ladies and gentlemen. Indeed, one could almost hear a distant French horn heralding a hunting song for spouses.
The center of such attention was undeniably Alexander Fitzwilliam Darcy. If excited murmurs of "noble mien," "illustrious family," and "ten thousand a year," had heralded Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy at every social gathering over two decades ago, then the excitement had increased tenfold for his first-born son and heir. The Darcy fortune and patronage had increased so substantially under the current Master of Pemberley that an elevation into peerage was not entirely improbable. Then, this cadet branch of an ancient and honourable name would be as illustrious as its more senior and noble one. The fact that the general appearance of the first-born son was in such a pleasing degree that the sum of his merits made him an irresistible top candidate in "the merry hunt of rich husbands."
James Darcy, an equal in almost every way to his worthy elder brother, was also a personage of interest to many. As the younger son, James would not inherit the Pemberley estate and the vast Darcy fortune, but it was common knowledge that this fortunate young man would also inherit a modest but profitable estate - one that was not part of the Darcy entailment. To all, such an unusual legacy was further proof of the generosity of the father as well as the worthiness of the younger son.
The Darcy daughters, blessed such strong resemblance to their dear mother in grace, beauty and character, were justly regarded treasures in their own rights. A dowry of fifty thousand pounds for each daughter seemed to be an added bonus rather than the primary attraction. It was a credit to their upbringing by sensible parents that neither Jane nor Lizzy was a vain or selfish creature. Rather, they were unabashedly sweet and genuine.
The Bingley children, less endowed in monetary worth and aristocratic lineage, were equal to their cousins in their own merits and talents. The eldest daughter Margaret, at three and twenty, and the youngest Emily, at eighteen, had much of their handsome father in their looks. Isabella Bingley, at one and twenty, was the true image of their mother Jane, although in temperament and mind, Isabella was more like a child of Aunt Elizabeth Darcy.
As the only son and heir of the Bingleys, Henry Bingley excited almost as much interest as his cousin Alexander Darcy. Henry, however, was far too modest and agreeable a young man to think too highly of himself. Indeed, he might blush if one should inform him that he was the fervent object of fancy in the hearts of many young ladies present. Like all his siblings and cousins, Henry was accustomed to think of Alexander Darcy as "the prized catch of Derbyshire." Everyone seemed to pale in comparison.
Much earlier, Alexander had objected to his mother in regards to the current sitting arrangement. He resented being put on display before the entire assembly, and he sensed that his siblings and cousins shared his qualms. Proper protocol, however, dictated the use of a head table for the host families. At first, Alexander fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. Suffering the blatant stares from so many, he felt like a stallion on sale at Tattersall. The fact that he had been absent from home for a long time meant that he drew more attention from their guests than ever before.
Fortunately, for his sanity of mind, Isabella Bingley sat next to him, and he soon became oblivion to everyone else. His attention was centered entirely upon his cousin. She had promised him a memorable conversation, and she kept her word. Alexander was duly impressed. Isabella, along with her sisters Margaret and Emily, had attended the exclusive London seminary school that their Aunt Caroline and Aunt Louisa had attended before. The best London masters - in academics, arts and music - taught at the seminary, and the Bingley sisters had benefited immensely from their schooling. This present generation, unlike their aunts, had continued to improve and broadened their minds by constant reading.
The most pleasant discovery, for Alexander, during the course of their conversation, was Isabella's sagacity and wit. Alexander, who adored his dear mother, had long believed that he would never find anyone who measured up to her. Now, however, he found himself smiling, even laughing aloud, at his cousin's witty remarks, and her pert opinions. He realized that he had never enjoyed the company of any young lady as much as he did with Isabella.
James, who was sat at the other side of Isabella, was in an entirely different mood. There was a deep frown on his face, and he was unusually quiet.
Such was so unfamiliar a sight that Alexander addressed his younger brother directly.
"Forgive me, Isabella," he said graciously, "allow me a word to my brother." She beamed such a smile back at him that his breath was caught momentarily in his throat.
He managed to find his voice presently, and said, "James, I finally realize why you sing such praises of our sweet cousin here." He then addressed Isabella directly, "You are an absolute angel. Forgive me for not listening to my brother's testimony. I am quite a simpleton for not noticing such a transformation until tonight. I have neglected you, and I apologize most humbly. I shall make amends by giving you my undivided attention tonight, and pay you the compliments you so justly deserve."
Isabella laughed, finding it rather interesting that so taciturn a man could be so eloquent in his apology. She wondered briefly, out of sheer feminine curiosity, if he would be equally eloquent when he courted a lady.
James could hardly believed his ears. Was Alexander flirting with Isabella? It was incredible! James grew increasingly worrisome. "No," he tried to reason with himself as he murmured inaudibly, "Alex cannot possibly be falling in love with my darling Bella!" Yet, he had never heard his elder brother spoke in such a way to any young lady before. Alexander had always treated his female relations as if they were all his own sisters - girls to be protected and to be loved with brotherly forbearance. He had always accommodated them with kindness and patience when they made demands of his time and attention. But, often than not, Alexander had held himself aloof when they did not seek his company.
Alexander was so preoccupied with Isabella that it took a gentle shake from his younger sister Lizzy, who was sat on his other side, to make him realize that everyone present was looking expectantly upon him to propose the celebratory toast. Alexander panicked for a fleeting moment - he had forgotten about his promise to Isabella for a speech, and had not given it a moment's consideration. As he hesitated, he felt a warm squeeze of his hand. Isabella's gentle touch seemed to enliven him immediately, and he leapt onto his feet, holding his champagne glass high.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, honoured guests, beloved family, and cherished friends! Welcome, one and all, to our celebrations tonight." His deep voice grew bolder, "Our joy is increased tenfold when we are so blessed by God with such fine friends. Now, please join me for a toast to honour my dear parents - Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy." He turned to them, and spoke directly from the depths of his own heart, "Your love for each other and for your children is as constant, as splendid, and as nourishing as the radiant summer sun. Thank you for letting us bask in the warmth of your connubial bliss. May God grant you even greater happiness from this day forward!"
The applause was thunderous, reflecting the degree of affections the Darcys were held by all. Alexander continued his toast, "And to my esteemed uncle and aunt - Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley - the example of your devoted love is an inspiration to all. I stand here, quite humbled before you, with prayers that others may be so blessed to find the same connubial felicity that you have. May God continue to bless you and all your family."
Loud cheers of "Hear! Hear!" and another round of thunderous applause followed. Champagne flowed freely. Alexander sat down with a sigh of relief, and received words of thanks from his siblings and cousins. Yet, the only compliment he heard distinctively was that of Isabella's. "You were superb, Alexander," she said simply. Alexander smiled with contentment, and was rewarded with a renewal of their delightful conversation.
Tried as he might, James could not see the brighter side of the situation. He grew gloomier by the moment, feeling a pang of envy in his heart.
Only one other person among the large assembly of guests present was as glum as James Darcy. The former Miss Caroline Bingley, now Lady Paxton, still harboured a deep grudge against Mrs. Darcy for overturning her carefully planned designs upon Mr. Darcy. The passage of a quarter of a century did little to alleviate her resentment. Perhaps, if she had found true connubial felicity herself, she might have felt differently.
Lady Paxton glanced at her husband. Arthur Warring, the sixth Earl of Paxton, was a decent man, but ever so grossly fat and dull. His noble title and immense wealth did lessen his disagreeable appearance a certain degree in his wife's eyes, but it did not prevent her from having wistful thinking. How Lady Paxton longed for her husband to be a man like Mr. Darcy - handsome, formidable, and in the prime of life. She herself was ever so elegant and accomplished, reflected Lady Paxton with a self-satisfied smile, and she herself would have been a far superior match for Mr. Darcy. If only her brother Charles never made the foolish decision to lease Netherfield that fateful autumn of 1811! Mr. Darcy would never have gone to Hertfordshire to meet Elizabeth Bennet.
"Judging by her looks this day," remarked Lord Paxton, "Mrs. Darcy must have been a beautiful bride." He turned to his wife expectantly, waiting for her agreement.
"Oh, no!" replied Lady Paxton in a horrified whisper. She felt an immediate urgency to correct her husband. So she leaned closer to speak into his ear, "I knew her from the start. The former Miss Elizabeth Bennet was no beauty; she had no accomplishments, no fortune and little consequence. Her only claim was a pair of fine eyes to recommend herself."
"Fine eyes, eh?" Lord Paxton was intrigued. He might look as if he was in his dotage, but it was far from the truth. "This singular merit must be fine enough to hold her husband in such bewitchment after all these years. Mr. Darcy shows his spousal devotion for all the world to see without pretense or embarrassment."
Lady Paxton glared at him. The old fool was definitely in his dotage, she thought bitterly. She should have insisted that he remained home in Wessex instead of accompanying her to Derbyshire. Insufferable man!
His lordship's thoughts tended otherwise. He wondered again what he saw in the elegant but very haughty Caroline Bingley that made him commit to matrimony. Whatever it was, Lord Paxton thought with resignation, it must have been a clever illusion. During such introspective moments, he liked to place the blame squarely upon the shoulders of his old friend Lord Matlock. It was the earl's fiery French cognac that clouded his usually sensible mind and inducted him to propose marriage within hours of meeting Miss Bingley at the Matlock's Mid-Summer's Ball. He should have known that it was not his personal charms but his vaults of gold and noble lineage that prompted the lady to give her consent immediately. The only compensation of his rash action was having his precious son William - his sole heir.
Lord Paxton returned his admiring gaze towards the Darcys and the Bingleys. Young Alexander Darcy was quite correct - true love could radiate such joy that it was grace itself to bask in its warmth, even for only a moment. It even took his lordship's mind off his gouty foot for the duration of the night.
Chapter 4
The subject of courtship came up rather unexpectedly a few days after the anniversary ball. Mr. Darcy and Alexander were in the study, busy with estate matters and correspondences, when Alexander looked upon from his own work, and said, "Father, I need your advice on a certain matter."
Mr. Darcy put down his quill, and gave his son his full attention. "Yes, Alexander?"
"I . . .Well, sir, I should like some advice on the proper courtship of a young lady," said Alexander softly as he was rather unsettled by the notion of discussing such private matters.
"Do you have any particular young lady in mind?" asked Mr. Darcy with equal gravity.
"No, sir. Well . . . not yet - I mean I am not quite certain yet," said Alexander uneasily. He was already regretting this conversation, although he knew that his father would not speak of this to anyone else, with the exception of Mrs. Darcy, of course.
"Father," Alexander continued earnestly, "I am four and twenty, and have lived in the world for a while. Yet, I have scant experience in the matters of love. I have held myself apart, by my own inclination and by circumstances, and I know not how to act properly in courtship."
"Well, son, I am hardly the man to advise you on how to woo a young lady," conceded Mr. Darcy with a bemused laugh. "I never courted anyone until I met your mother, and our courtship was a rather peculiar one. It began with my unpardonable remarks at our first meeting, which made your mother took an instant dislike of me. My abominable pride and conceit led to numerous verbal skirmishes, further misunderstandings, long separations, and much awkward silences between us when we did meet again. I felt such an ardent, indeed, passionate admiration and regard for your mother that I was utterly tongue-tied whenever I was in her company. I could only stare at her intently. It was a true wonder that I won her heart at all!"
Alexander nodded his head sympathetically. He was not tongue-tied whenever he was in the company of Isabella Bingley - rather, it was quite the opposite. She was so easy to converse with, and she alone seemed to bring out a certain liveliness in him. He felt that he could sit contently for hours listening to her melodic voice, discussing all sorts of matters with her, and looking into those marvelous blue eyes.
"It was when my Elizabeth accepted me that I could finally pour my heart out to her, openly and without any sense of anxiety," said Mr. Darcy. "You have my taciturn nature."
Alexander gave a slight smile as his father continued, "I realize how difficult it is to confess one's feelings - the fear of rejection compounds one's sense of vulnerability. However, one must take certain risks in courtship as one must in life. It is better, I believe, to risk failure than to live the regret of never making the attempt. Therefore, my dear son, my advice for you is to proceed in the most gentlemanly manner, without false pride or pretense, and to look for signs of encouragement and reciprocal sentiments. If the young lady is worthy of you, and more importantly, if you are worthy of her, then seize the first opportunity to court her."
Alexander nodded silently, letting his father's words sunk in.
Mr. Darcy waited patiently for his son to elaborate upon the subject, but it was not forthcoming. He realized that the conversation considered closed, so he added, "We shall talk again, Alexander, whenever you wish."
"Thank you, sir," said Alexander. He put his fist to his month, leaned back in his leather chair, and sat in deep contemplation.
After a moment, Mr. Darcy continued writing his correspondence, but looked upon his son now and then with worried concern.
Later that night, Mrs. Darcy brought up the same subject with her husband, albeit in a slightly different vein.
"My dearest Will, we need to talk," said Mrs. Darcy tenderly as she took the quill from her husband's hand. He was making his customary entry into his private journal before retiring for the night, but he stopped promptly to give his wife his full attention.
"Of course, my love," smiled Mr. Darcy as he reached for her. "You look exceedingly beautiful tonight."
"Mr. Darcy!" implored his wife urgently as she seized hold of his hands firmly.
"Oh, you really wish to talk," he said ruefully, "A long and serious talk, I presume."
"Yes, of the most important nature."
He nodded and led her to the comfortable double settee in her bedchamber, or rather "their" bedchamber as he hardly ever used his own master suite. The adjourning door to their respective suites had remained permanently opened these many years. Indeed, he could not fathom falling asleep every night and waking up every morning without being next to his dearest Lizzy.
They settled down comfortably. She nestled against him, and held his hand before she resumed talking. He put his free arm around her shoulder to draw her closer to his side.
Mr. Darcy truly cherished these quiet moments in the still of the night, when they came together to talk. There was the undeniably passionate and fulfilling aspect of their marriage, of course, but he valued these precious moments above all else, when they came together thus, not as lovers, but as kindred spirits, as the dearest of friends, speaking their minds with complete trust and utter honesty.
Even in this union of true minds and hearts, there were occasional disagreements or even fierce arguments. Bitter words had been flung at each other in the heat of the moment, yet they had never failed to regain a certain degree of rationality and calmness to come together - to talk, to listen, to reach a resolution to their problems, and to dispel any misunderstanding or false presumption. Their reconciliation each time was complete.
Indeed, their marriage had been greatly strengthened by such trials: one's appreciation for a safe harbour was ever greater after a fierce tempest at sea.
"I am very concerned about our oldest son," said Mrs. Darcy. "He broods too much."
"Like father, like son," remarked Mr. Darcy with a self-effacing laugh.
"But you have a light-hearted side - admittedly too well hidden when I first knew you," reflected Mrs. Darcy. "Underneath your aristocratic sternness is a noble heart capable of such tenderness, generosity and compassion. And such levity too, if you deem it appropriate to the occasion!"
He smiled appreciatively at her compliment. She traced the outline of his smile with her finger, and said thoughtfully, "Perhaps Alexander has been working too hard?"
"I have assigned him many hard tasks, but he has to learn the myriad of responsibilities required of him. Life is precarious, Lizzy. As my heir, he has to be fully prepared to take charge of Pemberley, in the event of my demise."
She put her hand up hastily to stop him from speaking further. Her husband always spoke the absolute truth, of course, but it did not mean that she enjoyed hearing him speak so bluntly about death. He kissed her briefly to comfort her, knowing her to be uneasy, but feeling justified in voicing his opinions.
"Our son is doing fine. In fact, he voluntarily put himself at an even more punishing pace. He has gone out to the fields not merely to supervise, but has actually helped our tenants with his own hands."
"Yes, I was informed by our steward that Alexander has a hand in mending stone bridges, putting in new irrigation, and many other tasks. A gentleman laborer!"
"It may shock many in polite society - a gentleman doing manual work," smiled Mr. Darcy with parental pride, "but Alexander has earned the respect of everyone at Pemberley. Our tenant farmers think the world of him - many came up to express their appreciation of how he came to their aid, how he took the time to listen to their concerns."
"He is so much like you," said Mrs. Darcy with admiration.
"I am very proud of our son. He is serious and purposeful, learning to use his judgment prudently and wisely. I only wish that he is more forthcoming about his private concerns. We always have a close rapport, but he is rather unapproachable at times."
"He laughed a lot when he was a babe," Mrs. Darcy reminisced fondly. "He only grew solemn when he was about five years old, when Jane was born. As if he suddenly realized all the burdens and expectations of being the first-born son. Was that the main reason for your own severity?"
"Partly so. Aside from my naturally taciturn nature," acknowledged Mr. Darcy, "I was more affected by the early deaths of my parents. At three and twenty, I was saddled with the awesome responsibilities of being Master of Pemberley and legal guardian to my sister Georgiana."
"Hardly a spare moment left for you to lead a wild, dissolute life of a fashionable young gentleman about Town," observed his wife with teasing smile.
Mr. Darcy laughed, and bestowed a lingering kiss upon her sweet lips before he said, "I never regretted my celibate bachelor-hood, my darling. Perhaps, it even heightened the intensity of my regards for you, and strengthened my resolve to win your heart. After your first rejection of me, I was more determined than ever because I knew then that nothing but the deepest love would induce you to matrimony."
"The deepest love from you - to which I give thanks in my daily prayers," replied Mrs. Darcy with great emotion. "But we are changing the subject. What about our son? Do you think something is ailing him?"
"As in the affairs of his heart?" said Mr. Darcy quizzically. "I cannot say for certain, but it is the most probable cause. He brought up the subject of courtship this afternoon - on how to woo a young lady. I advised him not to be so much like I was - silent and intense."
"I never thought it possible that anyone can be as silent and intense was you were once!"
"I had a lot on my mind then - the ever-increasing tax burdens as imposed by the Crown to finance the Napoleonic Wars, the widespread Luddite riots in my neighbouring counties, the never ending repair bills at Pemberley, my financial obligations to support my local parish, villages, and other sundry needs, protecting my little sister from immoral rakes and fortune-hunters. My most worrisome concern was more fundamental - when you consider how hopeless I felt at the prospect of ever finding you, my darling Lizzy. Every young lady I encountered in society always spoke and acted for my approbation. I wished only to be love and be loved, for my own merits, and not for my name or fortune. Fortunately, I held a firm belief that God had created someone unique, and meant her to be mine alone. I was seven and twenty when I finally found you in Meryton."
"Yet, when we were introduced, you thought me only tolerable, not enough to tempt you!" said Mrs. Darcy merrily, unable to resist teasing her beloved husband yet again.
"I shall never hear the end of that!" he moaned softly, burying his face in her neck. He allowed himself the luxury of inhaling her heavenly scent before he spoke again.
"Lizzy, as I confessed to you many time before, I did not even look at you when I made that horrible remark. I was too upset at Bingley for not letting me dance with your very lovely sister Jane. The moment I uttered those offensive words, I saw you clearly for the first time. I was instantly drew by your loveliness, and above all, that mirthful sparkle in your fine eyes - unmistakable evidence of your sagacity and liveliness of mind."
"Oh, my darling Will," she laughed aloud, "I shall not attempt to dispute whether such thoughts truly occurred to you at the Meryton Assembly ball, or whether they happened much, much later."
"Well, I believe such thoughts were ever present, although I failed to recognize them instantly," he laughed heartily. "But, my darling, have I not been making amends for my insufferable manner and pride these many years past?"
"Yes, with very dedicated effort and prodigious care," she conceded, giving him a sweet kiss in confirmation.
"Then, I am truly forgiven?"
"Perhaps," she replied mirthfully. "If you show me yet again how contrite you are, and how much you do love me."
"With all my heart," he murmured as he drew her closer.
"My dearest Will," implored Mrs. Darcy as she put her hand upon his lips, "we have not resolve the difficulties regarding Alexander! Did he mention anyone special?"
"No, he did not. I am not unduly worried. We have a wide circle of relations and good friends, and there are many fine young people for our children to set their hearts on. One, in particular, may suit Alexander very well. She is blessed with virtues and talents very similar to yours, and as Alexander has my own serious nature, I believe that they shall be well matched in every aspect. The best remedy, therefore, is for Alexander to have his own angel in his life, as I have mine."
"You are speaking of Isabella Bingley?" inquired his wife thoughtfully.
"Yes," smiled Mr. Darcy, pleased that his wife knew his mind so well. "I saw them dancing together at the ball, and I took further notice of their animated conversation afterwards. I could discern a certain look in Alexander's eyes - as if he had newly discovered Isabella, and was greatly intrigued by her."
"Yes, I too saw that intense look in his eyes - reminiscent of how you regarded me at Netherfield. James is equally taken by Isabella."
"Truly?" exclaimed Mr. Darcy incredulously. "James is as much a twin to Isabella as Henry Bingley is."
"I believe that, for some time now, James has been in love with her. Isabella has blossomed into a very lovely young lady," observed Mrs. Darcy.
"Your maternal instincts must be right. Has James made any formal declarations yet?"
"Not formally, but I suspect, perhaps, a secret one of an infinitely more tender nature," replied Mrs. Darcy.
"Then I am very happy for James," he said sincerely. He then added with much agitation, "Good God! I certainly hope that our sons have not fallen in love with the same woman!"
"I pray not!" Mrs. Darcy exclaimed in agreement.
"By temperament and demeanor, James has the advantage over Alexander. He certainly has greater ease when in feminine company," noted Mr. Darcy dryly.
"Our James can flirt merrily and waltz effortlessly with the best of them," agreed Mrs. Darcy. "Alexander is more like St. George fighting the dragon - busy defending all females against scoundrels and neglecting his own heart." She added after a moment's reflection, "We love our children so dearly, but we must let them lead their own lives, make their own decisions, and find their own loves. I hope, by God's grace, that their joy will be bountiful, and their heartaches very few."
"Amen," murmured Mr. Darcy.
They sat in contemplative silence, each sorting out their own thoughts concerning the welfare of their family, until Mr. Darcy spoke again.
His thoughts, it seemed, were tending to an entirely different direction.
"It seems only yesterday that we came home to Pemberley for the first time. My life has been enriched beyond measure because of you, Lizzy."
"And you have made me happier than I ever imagined, my dearest Will," replied Mrs. Darcy.
"The next twenty-five years will be even better," promised he.
"I believe you. I do look forward to gray hair, a few wrinkles, a stiff joint or two!"
He joined her in hearty laughter. "I look forward to growing old together, my love. I only hope you will humour me in my dotage, and allow me to stay close by your side."
"I have no fonder wish than that," she declared solemnly.
"My dearest and loveliest Lizzy!" He spoke her name repeatedly, adding murmured endearments between his kisses to complete the renewal of his marital vows.
She came to him as she always did, yieldingly and lovingly. Their mutual ardour was as intoxicating as the first time they ever embraced. She melted into his strong arms, and trusted him to carry her to their exclusive paradise.
Chapter 5
The several weeks following the anniversary ball proved to be rather hectic. The cold and snowy weather of late November and early December did not interfere with the habitual visits between the families. The Bingleys dined twice at Pemberley, and the Darcys reciprocated the visits to Maywood.
At such family gatherings, Isabella took her usual place between Alexander and James. Pleasant conversation flowed between them, mostly of light-hearted subjects. Alexander was, however, acutely aware of Isabella's every gesture and every word. His senses were further overwhelmed whenever she turned to smile at him with perfect amicability.
It was common observation that if one was unaware of what one was missing out, one would not be overly bothered. But having shared a most memorable night of dancing and talking with Isabella Bingley, Alexander found himself in a very unsettled state of mind. He admonished himself for being indifferent to her distinctive beauty and intelligence - how could he ever be so blind? There was the undeniable physical attraction of Isabella - her beauty was obvious - but he had been in the company of very beautiful women in society, and had never been felt the strange emotions he was experiencing.
Indeed, no woman had ever affected him in such a way before. Was he a man in love, he wondered? There was something more substantial about Isabella's attraction, he surmised. He felt so comfortable whenever he talked to her. He longed to stand close by her side, to see her smiles, to hear her opinions, and to share her laughter. Indeed, he found himself more intrigued by her mind than by her physical appearance. If the truth be told, he had yet to imagine kissing those lovely full lips!
His father's sage advice about courtship came readily to his mind. Was Isabella worthy of him? Most certainly! Was he worthy of her? He hoped so!
The most difficult question facing him was of a more fundamental one: Was his feelings for Isabella true love? Or was he feeling more than he truly did because of the novelty of the situation?
By nature, Alexander was prudent and considerate. In this present circumstance, he was being more careful than usual. He did not wish to trifle with Isabella's tender heart until he was more certain of his own. He did not wish to impose himself upon her, or create any false hopes to hurt her. He was treading on totally unfamiliar grounds, and he had no prior experience in such matter to guide him along.
Tried as he did, he did not succeed in having a private talk with Isabella during any of their visits. Therefore, he could not ascertain Isabella's feelings towards him - was she being sweet and attentive as his own sisters were, or was she experiencing the same kind of emotions he was? Perhaps he should simply place his faith in God, as his own father did, and pray for divine guidance!
Whilst his elder brother was suffering such emotional and intellectual entangles, James Darcy had regained his customary cheerful spirit. The worried looks he had given Alexander at the anniversary ball had dissipated.
By his own observation, Isabella's attention to Alexander seemed to be those of sisterly kindness, and Alexander had relapsed back to his brooding self. Never one to pass up a lively conversation, James took full advantage of his brother's silence at the dining table to forward his own attention upon Isabella.
In his present jovial mood, James did not begrudge an occasional interruption from Alexander. When his elder brother deemed it necessary to speak, he usually kept his words rather curt. James thought, with self-satisfaction, that as fine a man as his elder brother was, there was not enough lively charms in him to lure Isabella's heart away. He was been unduly worried at the anniversary ball! How his darling Bella enjoyed mirthful laughter - she, the initiator and co-conspirator of a thousand mischievous jokes and pranks with Henry and himself throughout their rambunctious childhood! Alexander had always lectured them so sternly, behaving so infuriatingly righteous, and Isabella used to grumble so heatedly in return. One did not easily forget such high-handedness, James reasoned to himself.
All was well, thought James Darcy tranquilly.
He also said a silent prayer of thanksgiving to his younger cousin Andrew Fitzwilliam. Last Easter, Andrew had insisted that James and Henry Bingley delay their Grand Tour until the following summer when he could join them after he completed his own studies at Cambridge. Henry, as expected, was very accommodating to the idea, but James had been rather reluctant to do so because he did not want any delays after such extensive planning. Of course, Alexander finally convinced him that their Grand Tour of the Continent would be more enjoyable with Andrew, and that Sir James and Aunt Georgiana would have their ease of mind, knowing that their only son would be traveling with his close cousins, rather than a group of fellow chums from Cambridge.
James stifled a chuckle as he assessed the result of Alexander's interference. Otherwise, he himself would not be here now, and Alexander would have Isabella's sole attention instead!
It was truly fortunate how things always seemed to work out for the better in the end, mused James.
James Darcy had further cause for thankfulness. The week before Christmas was Alexander's obligatory visit to Rosings - as their family's "official" representative. The entire Darcy family made their customary visits dutifully during each Easter. Travel conditions in the winter between Derbyshire and Kent, however, were often very poor, so for the safety and comfort for all concerned, only one or two member of the family would brave the journey to bring Yuletide greetings to the venerable Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her family.
It was in a very thoughtful mood that Alexander Darcy undertook the long journey to Kent. He was glad that his youngest sister Lizzy had consented to accompany him.
"Thank you for forsaking your numerous holiday teas and social routs to make this trip to Rosings with me," said Alexander gratefully.
"You owe me ice treats at Gunter's - one treat for each day when we are in Town for the Season," teased his sister.
"It will be money well spent," laughed Alexander. "I shall buy you a double treat each time."
He glanced outside his carriage window, and saw the grandiose façade of Rosings Hall loomed in the near distance. As their carriage passed the Hunsford Parsonage, he saw the Rev. Mr. Collins looking out of his customary place by his study window.
"Look! Mr. Collins is waving at us," exclaimed Lizzy, her merry laughter filling their carriage as she returned the gesture. "Sometimes, I do wonder about Mr. Collins!"
"What do you mean?" asked Alexander curiously.
"If Papa did not make such a generous offer to lease Longbourn for the duration of Grandmamma Bennet's lifetime, Mr. Collins would be very busy managing his own estate at Longbourn, and would not have the leisure time to look out of his window all day long - as Great-Aunt Catherine's watchful sentry! I think Mr. Collins prefers to be near Rosings instead of Longbourn!"
"Well, there is something to be said about being the master of your own estate," observed her eldest brother.
"I wouldn't know!" said Lizzy gravely, but she added with a defiant look, "Unless there are significant changes in the confounded laws of inheritance and the rule of primogeniture!"
"I see that you have been talking to Margaret Bingley! She is very adamant about reforms!" said Alexander with a bemused laugh.
"No offense to my present company or to our cousins Henry Bingley, Andrew Fitzwilliam, et la," said Lizzy as she reassured her beloved brother with a kiss, "but most first-born sons and designated heirs in our society tend to have dissolute habits, and lead such lazy, profligate lives - they lack the need or inclination to work because their inheritance and security are guaranteed!"
"Guaranteed only to the extent of procreating the next generation of male heirs," stated Alexander grimly, as his own situation bore the same burdens as others.
"Procreation must be a easier task than having to make your own way in the world as younger sons are required to, or to secure a respectable and suitable marriage as all daughters are expected to . . ."
"Before you bite my head off, my dear sister," said Alexander solemnly, "I do support your ideas about changes in property and inheritance laws, and in other . . ."
Lizzy interrupted her brother with an exuberant hug. "I must write, and tell Margaret and Anthony immediately!"
"Anthony?" repeated Alexander in great puzzlement.
"Anthony Knightley, the youngest son of Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley. He is so brilliant! Was he the Head Boy at Eton when you first started there?"
"Yes. Anthony got me out of a few scrapes - he called it reciprocal debt of honour for the way our father watched out for his father when they went to Eaton and Cambridge together."
"Papa seems to watch out for a great many people. During this past Season in Town - my first - there were always total strangers who came up to me at soirees and balls, and told me how Papa helped them. There were some amazing tales."
Alexander nodded, having similar experiences himself. He continued their original discussion concerning Anthony Knightley. "Anthony is an excellent barrister, like his own father."
"He is also a MP. Relatively new in Parliament, but already well-respected," gushed Lizzy with admiration. "Most people do not consider Anthony Knightley handsome, but there is such a dashing quality about him. Nothing like a young Member of Parliament, with high morals and principles, crusading against the evils of the world, is there?"
"Lizzy, you are not in love with him, are you?" asked Alexander bluntly. It was too important a matter to beat around the bush. The families saw each other frequently over the years, especially when the Darcys were in London.
"Oh, no! I admire him greatly, but someone else loves him so very dearly!" laughed Lizzy with genuine joy. "Margaret Bingley saw a lot of Anthony Knightley this past Season in Town. They fell madly in love with each other during one of their heated discussions over the rights of women! Or so Margaret has told me! I believe that she will be announcing her nuptials soon. Moreover, she wants to help Anthony with his work in Parliament."
"Our Parliament needs someone young, energetic and reform-minded like Anthony Knightley," nodded Alexander thoughtfully. "Margaret will be his ideal partner in life."
Before they could continue their conversation, their carriage drew to a stop.
"Now, Lizzy, mind your manners!" Alexander reminded her in mock sternness. "Our great-aunt does not tolerate impertinence."
"Rigid rules and chronic dissatisfaction must not be good for one's health when one is so ancient! I think she suffers greatly from sour stomach, the cause being sour attitude, no doubt!"
"Lizzy," admonished Alexander under his breath. "Behave!"
"Yes, sir!" said Lizzy as she winked at her stern brother. She enjoyed teasing him. "I shall be the very picture of decorum so her ladyship will credit our father and spare her criticism of our mother."
"Lizzy, please do not go spoiling for a fight!"
"Of course not, my dear brother," she reassured him as she linked arms with him, walked into the grand salon to greet their relations.
By the first evening of their current visit, Alexander Darcy was already feeling rather gloomy. He looked around at the faces before him - his great-aunt Lady Catherine was very advanced in age, but still in excellent health if one judged her condition from her lengthy monologues. His cousin Anne was as dull and sickly as ever, and barely uttered a word. Her husband, Mr. Ashford Adams, was equally quiet. He was a tall but slightly built man, pale and balding. The only bright features about him were his light brown eyes. It was fortunate that Mr. Adams was a scholar - as Lady Catherine liked to boast: "from an ancient and noble line of scholars and advisers to kings" - mused Alexander, and that the library at Rosings was quite substantial. Living with such a severe mother-in-law and a sickly wife must be quite a trial.
The only offspring of the Adams and de Bourgh marriage was a timid girl. Young Catherine sat silently between her parents, and stared out at the world with a pair of large brown eyes. She was about fifteen years of age, but looked more like a child of twelve. She was not sickly like her mother Anne, but one could hardly say that she enjoyed robust health. Sometimes, Alexander felt that he should have taught this young cousin some sports, the same way he taught his own sisters, so she could enjoy the outdoors with a game of Real Tennis or archery. As his own mother was fond of saying, "Fresh air and exercise not only invigorates one's body, but also enlivens one's mind."
Lady Catherine always included the Rev. and Mrs. Collins as her guests for dinner, so Alexander knew the couple well. He noted that Mr. Collins was as obsequious as ever, although his air of superiority, adopted after he inherited Longbourn Manor, was carefully veiled whenever he was in the company of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mr. Collins, despite of his many defaults of character, was ever so grateful to his noble patroness. It was highly amusing to watch, thought Alexander, a hefty, middle-aged clergyman acting like a lap dog to this ancient and severe lady sitting at her ornate armchair in this overly flamboyant mansion.
The only saving grace was Mrs. Collins. Although plain of features, Mrs. Collins had a natural beauty that seemed to glow from within her. Her prudence and her forbearance must be the powerful weapons she yielded to maintain a certain degree of contentment in her life with the insipid Mr. Collins, surmised Alexander. Their son, Lewis Collins, a young man of five and twenty, was spending the holidays with his relations in Meryton.
Young Elizabeth Darcy, like her own namesake, had an undaunted and vivacious spirit. She could hardly bear the endlessly speeches from her great-aunt, so she stood up quite unexpectedly and announced, "Lady Catherine! Would you like to hear my rendition of Mozart?"
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes at the youngest daughter of her dear nephew Mr. Darcy. Such impertinent manners, her ladyship thought with an inward disdain, inherited from her mother!
Lizzy had anticipated her great-aunt, and thus, Lady Catherine was preempted from giving a long lecture on proper decorum.
"I have practiced long and hard to perform for you, my dear Lady Catherine. My Mama said that there are few people in England who have finer taste or appreciation of music as you," said Lizzy with a sweet smile.
"Why, yes!" nodded Lady Catherine, quite taken by surprise. "Your mother told you this, did she?"
"Yes, indeed," confirmed Lizzy in full earnest. "Mama said that it was your ladyship herself who made the declaration, and Mama has always used it to remind us to practice well so that we can measure up to your ladyship's highest expectations!"
Lady Catherine was well pleased, and urged Lizzy to play immediately.
Alexander marveled at this brief exchange. It was incredible how Lizzy could relate a story and render it in an entirely different light without being false! Their mother had certainly quoted Lady Catherine's famous words, but it was more in a mocking manner, meant for a hearty laugh. Yet, Lizzy managed to use the same words to win Lady Catherine over so effortlessly. His little sister was quite a born diplomat, he thought proudly! If only he had the same talent with words!
Delightful music flowed through the great halls of Rosings for the next hour. Lizzy had the benefit of being taught by the best of London masters, as well as being blessed with the natural talents of her mother. Expertise and inborn grace produced the best recital, and melt the heart of the most severe critic.
"Excellent!" exclaimed Lady Catherine with genuine delight, her perpetual frown disappeared momentarily. "You play extremely well, child. Your cousin Catherine would be as proficient if her health had permitted her to learn."
Lizzy took her bows graciously, and winked at her oldest brother. Score one point for the Darcys, she seemed to tell him. If this was Lizzy's scheme to make this current visit bearable, Alexander had no objections. He preferred her singing and playing over the tomb-like silence of Rosings.
The next few days dragged on in the same manner, punctured only by church services and visits to Hunsford Parsonage. Both Alexander and Lizzy were truly happy to visit with Mrs. Collins, and brought her news, letters, and gifts from Pemberley. The close friendship between Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Collins had remained very strong throughout the decades despite of the vast distance between Kent and Derbyshire. It was a true testimony to the warm hearts of both ladies.
Alexander could not breathe easy until he and his sister embarked upon their journey home. He was well aware of Lady Catherine's designs upon him as the potential spouse to her granddaughter Catherine. Having failed to secure her own dear nephew Mr. Darcy for her only child Anne de Bourgh, the heiress of Rosings, the venerable dowager now entertained very fond hopes of forming an alliance between the illustrious houses of Darcy and de Bourgh-Adams with a marriage between Alexander and Catherine! Her every word and every look during his visit was designed to entreat him to look favourably upon his young cousin. Alexander felt sick to his stomach at his great-aunt's persistence, and he was grateful that his own parents would never force him into any arranged or loveless marriage.