Read Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) Online
Authors: Sharon Lathan
Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) (27 page)
“That is one way to state it.”
Darcy laughed. “It is also the relevant point. I went from being…sought after,
if you will, to summarily dismissed due to my surliness, to engaged to the one
woman with the best reason to loathe me. Naturally they are flummoxed! But
again, the response is not as dire as you perceive. I rather doubt they shall
universally determine my wonderfulness, as you have”—he flashed a
comically smug grin, earning the giggle he wanted—“nevertheless, my
efforts to present myself in a gracious manner are paying off. And it is not
stressful at all.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, and Darcy
sensed a scold was coming. “Did we not agree to be truthful to each other, Mr.
Darcy? Do not look me in the eye and fib that socializing to the degree we have
this week has not been difficult. You, who has not the talent to converse
easily with strangers?”
Darcy frowned. Standing, he paced
to the window, rubbed the back of his neck, and then tugged on his cravat. They
did agree to be truthful, and it was a promise he intended to keep. That did
not mean it was easy, however, when the risk was damaging their newly
established harmony.
Inhaling deeply, he turned but
stayed near the window. “As you wish, Elizabeth. The truth. Yes, it is arduous
for me. Largely, this is because I am not relaxed in unknown company. It is a
fault of mine, I am well aware, and my position often requires me to step into
situations and conversations that are trying. I do it because I must, but I
also avoid it if possible. In this case”—he gestured between the two of
them—“I gladly accept the necessity because I love you. I shan’t deny
that it is a sacrifice, of a sort, but one I am willing to make to please you.”
“This is not right, William. You
should not have to—”
“Yes, Elizabeth, I should. As will
you, from time to time. Being unified means giving and sacrificing. Besides, in
my case it is beneficial to socialize with people I would not normally
entertain or if I did, would look down upon. Fulfilling my promise to be
truthful, I have discovered some of your friends to be enjoyable.”
“Some?” she asked, brow lifting and
corners of her mouth curling slightly.
“Some,” Darcy repeated, holding his
serious expression. “I will not lie and claim to delight in the company here. I
am sorry, but as I said, I am Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. My eyes have been opened,
thanks to you. Yet I cannot change overnight, and the truth, again, is that as
a matter of course, the society I prefer is…different and always will be. My
standards are exacting, I admit. It is my upbringing, pompous pride if you
wish, yet there it is.”
He stepped to where she sat
silently on the sofa, one hand clutching the cushioned armrest as he gazed into
her beautiful eyes.
God, help me express myself and help her to understand.
“Elizabeth, in this, we are not akin. I am in awe of your ability to converse
and easily connect with literally anyone. I do not have that gift, and I never
will overcome my native reticence. If possible, I would only interact with
family and close friends. I know that is impossible, but I do not like moving
beyond my comfort.”
Remaining still, he watched her
stand and approach. “What was it you said earlier? That we needed to shift our
thinking as we learn to understand each other?” Darcy nodded. “I am finding
this to be an exhilarating exercise, Mr. Darcy. How boring would it be if we
were precisely akin in everything?”
“Exceedingly boring.”
“And were you not drawn to me
because I am refreshing and, upon occasion, shockingly unlike the women you
have been surrounded by?” She laid her hand over his on the sofa armrest, Darcy
finally choking out a husky yes. “Similarly, I was drawn to and fell in love
with Mr. Darcy of Pemberley as much as the man William. That is the truth.”
No power on earth could have
stopped him from kissing her at that point. He restrained his urgency to carry
the kiss to a deeper level, yet even the tender exchange left them both
breathless. Teetering on the edge of consuming desire, Darcy managed to
withdraw from the intoxicating sensation of her lips, suggesting in an unsteady
voice that they return to Bingley and Jane.
The last words on the subject were
an agreement to forego fretting the opinions of others, from his world or hers,
and to focus exclusively on strengthening their relationship. Then, as Darcy
collected the stack of letters, Elizabeth indicated the one from Georgiana.
“William, may I request permission
to write directly to Miss Darcy?”
“That depends,” he said, feigning
suspicion. “Are you wishing to establish a sisterly bond or ferret information
on me that only a sister would know?”
“Both,” she promptly replied, the
smile dancing on her lips at odds with the stern tone.
Darcy sighed resignedly. “It was
bound to happen. Yes, you have my permission. God help me.”
* *
*
Six weeks until we are married.
God grant me the strength to remain a gentleman!
Arriving at Darcy House on
Grosvenor Square by midmorning, Darcy crossed the threshold briskly. One arm
remained inside the greatcoat actively being doffed when he requested an immediate
audience with the townhouse’s butler and housekeeper. Mr. Travers and Mrs.
Smyth filed into his office less than five minutes later and, after the
briefest of greetings, were informed of his impending marriage. Other than
Elizabeth’s name, and that she would be visiting London later in the month, no
further details were given. For the present, it was not vital, and as servants,
the facts were not warranted anyway. It sufficed that they understood the
changes to come and began preparations of the townhouse accordingly.
Trusting they would pass the
development on to the remaining staff, Darcy set to the task of writing notes
to be delivered immediately.
First was to Mr. Daniels,
requesting a preliminary meeting to discuss Elizabeth’s betrothal settlement as
early as possible. The reply, written in the solicitor’s impeccable penmanship,
slated him for the following morning.
The second short note was for his
cousin Richard. Darcy said nothing about Elizabeth, only alerting him that he
was in Town and anxious to visit. A swift response from the landlord informed
that Colonel Fitzwilliam had not yet returned from his mission, but with the
assurance that Mr. Darcy’s letter would be delivered forthwith into the colonel’s
hand when he entered his building. Darcy could do nothing but wait and hope
Richard was not delayed.
Next was a missive to Mr. Kennedy,
one of several trusted contacts Darcy enlisted whenever he needed furnishings
or unusual merchandise. It was far more efficient to pay an expert rather than
troll shops or craftsmen’s studios himself. By the end of the day, an
appointment was arranged for the morrow in the afternoon.
Lastly was another request for an
appointment, this one with his tailor. Darcy owned an outrageous number of
suits, a dozen of which were formal, constructed with quality fabrics, and
superbly adequate for one’s wedding. Despite that fact, Darcy intended to honor
his beloved Elizabeth by dressing in an ensemble specifically designed for the
day she would willingly bind herself to him. She would always deserve the best,
including the groom waiting for her at the holy altar.
Once those chores were done, the
evening was his to enjoy in solitude. It was refreshing to dine in relaxed
style in the parlor, coat and cravat removed, with only the faint murmurs of
the servants and muffled street noises heard. Yet no matter how often he told
himself how wonderful the tranquility was, his mind and heart traveled the
miles to Longbourn.
How had her day passed? Had her
mind drifted to musing of him? What activity was she engaged in at this moment?
Was she breathing in relief to have a quiet night with her family?
Dare I hope she misses me and
wishes I were there?
* *
*
Until dinner, Lizzy had gone about
her day with only occasional flittering thoughts of Mr. Darcy.
In the early morning hours, she had
helped her mother with a few domestic chores, after which she had visited Mr.
Beller in the barnyard. The cows and other animals were longtime friends, of a
sort, who appreciated special treats and gentle rubs. Rather than walking
during the warmest part of the day, Lizzy had chosen to write a letter to Miss
Darcy. She enjoyed teasing her betrothed, but truthfully, she had no intention
of asking Miss Darcy to reveal secrets about her brother. Lizzy preferred
learning from him rather than a secondary source. Indeed, her only instigation
was to strengthen the tenuous bond she and Georgiana established during their
brief company at Pemberley. Therefore, her letter was short and consisted of
scant more than expressing her happiness with Mr. Darcy and anticipatory joy in
another sister.
It was while writing to Miss Darcy
that Lizzy initially speculated on Mr. Darcy’s activities in London, a vague
contemplation rapidly shrugged away. Then, as she had sealed the envelope, the
name
Darcy
speared her, surprisingly, with a swift stab of sadness that
required several seconds to recognize as missing him.
Honestly, Lizzy had not expected to
mourn his absence greatly. After all, he had only been a serious part of her
life for a week. It defied logic to pine for him a mere fifteen hours after
last in his presence! She had shaken off the foolishness, the remaining hours
before dinner serenely ticking by in mindlessly repairing the pile of garments
with rips or frayed seams.
Further sentimental pangs had not
intruded, even with the dining table space previously occupied by Mr. Darcy
sitting empty. Conversation was abundant and gay throughout the meal, and on
into the after-dinner socializing in the parlor. When a game of cards
commenced, Lizzy opted to read instead. Curling into a chair near the window,
she opened her novel to the marked page and glanced swiftly out the window to
gauge the fading light.
William would love this sunset.
I wonder if he is watching this same sunset in London.
Unexpectedly, melancholy was
triggered and the tone of the evening instantly altered. Book forgotten in her
lap, Lizzy watched the sun lower below the horizon. Mr. Darcy on her mind, she
admired the dance of colors and shadows frolicking over the autumn-hued leaves,
bare branches, and dying grasses. The cloudless sky was lit brilliantly with
oranges and gold, gradually dimming until a mere sliver of yellow light skimmed
along the edge where land met sky, to then be lost in darkness.
She sighed, the sound muted and
forlorn.
Somehow the vision of him sitting
in a window seat, or perhaps standing on the rear terrace of his townhouse,
while observing the slipping sun was comforting and depressing.
If not
gazing at the sunset, what else might he be doing right this second?
The
vision of him relaxing in some fashion, alone in a silent room, reading or
writing a letter, made her want to smile and frown simultaneously.
Undoubtedly
he is delirious with joy to be away from my noisy family! Yet is he missing me?
Or is he too happy in his solitude to wish for even my disruptive presence?
She was incapable of deciphering
the converging emotions. She loved Fitzwilliam Darcy unquestionably. The depth
of her love and how it affected her were the weighty implications she hesitated
to dwell upon.
Sleep provided oblivion from
the chaotic emotions.
By morning of the second day
without Mr. Darcy in Hertfordshire, a refreshed Lizzy woke determined not to
mire in such ridiculously maudlin behavior. The weather was perfect for a long
walk, Lizzy setting out immediately after breakfast with a small basket of food
and her novel. Willow Bench sparked a multitude of Mr. Darcy associated
reveries—more, in truth, than she expected based on two encounters out of
the hundreds alone at the copse. Fortunately, the reminders of him were amusing
and comforting rather than heart-rending, and the hours passing happily.
It was late in the afternoon when
Lizzy approached Longbourn and spied the unfamiliar, plain black cabriolet
parked on the drive. Any question as to the visitor’s identity disappeared the
second Lizzy opened the door and heard Mr. Collins’s voice. Hoping Charlotte
was with him, Lizzy hastened toward the parlor but stopped abruptly when he
mentioned Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Pausing, hidden in the corridor, she
unabashedly eavesdropped.
“…Lady Catherine’s anger is
intense. It is imperative that you understand, my dear Mrs. Bennet, that under
the circumstances, from her perspective, Lady Catherine’s dismay is justified.
Her heightened emotions are completely comprehendible. I cannot find it in my
heart to fault such a great lady as my esteemed patroness, and would never
dream of saying a single word of criticism, not that I
do
criticize, you
understand. Miss Elizabeth is a respectable young lady, and you know my
impressions were once favorable, if proved to be adverse to my personal
requirements, those being superbly satisfied by my dear Mrs. Collins.”
“Precisely so, Mr. Collins. All is
as it was meant to be. Charlotte for you, and my Lizzy for Mr. Darcy. I fail to
see what Lady Catherine has to be angry about!”
“It is as you once said, Mrs.
Bennet. Miss Elizabeth is headstrong, foolish, and, forgive me for repeating
the words, not keen on what is best for her. It pains me to imply that Miss
Elizabeth is an unfavorable choice for Mr. Darcy, an excellent gentleman I have
no right to censure. Lady Catherine, however, judges the match most adamantly
disadvantageous and unwise. As to this, I must admonish that as a woman of
experience and superiority, her ladyship’s judgment should be given due
consideration. Furthermore, Lady Catherine is rightfully distressed that Mr.
Darcy forsook Miss de Bourgh rather than adhering to his promise—”
“A promise, Mr. Collins, that I
have great doubt was sworn with all parties in agreement.” Charlotte’s demure
interjection provided Mr. Collins time to audibly inhale, but the comment fed
into the focus of his speech rather than diverted it.
“Indeed, I cannot warrant a
gentleman as highly praised as Mr. Darcy would baldly repudiate an avowed oath.
Nor could I ever believe that noble and honorable Lady Catherine claimed
falsely. Logical deduction asserts that there is a misunderstanding or
complexity to the arrangement that we of lesser rank are not privy to, with no
one party completely at fault. Nevertheless, Lady Catherine is distraught for
her daughter and of the opinion the arrangement between Mr. Darcy and Miss
Elizabeth is violating a prior commitment.”
“This is all too much for my
nerves! If there are impediments, Lizzy should break the engagement with Mr.
Darcy immediately!”
Lizzy winced at the strain in her
mother’s voice, even as her heart stopped and her anger flared.
“There is no need for that, I am
sure, Mrs. Bennet—” Charlotte’s second calming attempt to downplay her
husband’s assertions was drown by further sermonizing.
“For the sake of a harmonious
parish, I must appreciate the perspective of my patroness. As Lady Catherine’s
clergyman and a sworn officer of the Church, it is my duty to pacify,
intervene, and advise. I have done so to the best of my abilities and with a
clear conscience. Unfortunately, my connection with Hertfordshire and the
Bennet family added to Lady Catherine’s distress, and my spiritual services
were no longer sought. My decision to quit Hunsford temporarily was to ease
Lady Catherine’s pain, not to cause discord amongst the family here, Mrs.
Bennet. Nevertheless, Mrs. Collins and I agreed that the situation should be
reported.”
“Well, it is quite a distressing
report, Mr. Collins! I do wish Mr. Bennet had not chosen today to tend to
business with Mr. Phillips. You must inform him immediately upon his return! I
am sure he will know what is best to do.”
“But my good lady, I did alert Mr.
Bennet! Some weeks past, in fact. Evidently he chose not to share my warnings
with you or my cousin, the latter rushing into the precipitous closure with Mr.
Darcy I expressly counseled against to avoid this very outcome! Now Lady
Catherine is loudly proclaiming her opinions on the matter to anyone within
proximity of Rosings Park, including the fact that she does not sanction the
marriage, her permission expressly denied. Such woeful tidings are not
auspicious for a happy union, I fear.”
“Oh dear! Oh dear, oh dear…” Mrs.
Bennet moaned in between sniffles.
Lizzy had heard enough. Determined
to put an end to Mr. Collins’s tirade, she moved toward the portal, but her
steps slowed when Charlotte spoke, more forcefully this time.
“Do not be troubled, Mrs. Bennet.
While I agree Lady Catherine’s response to Lizzy’s excellent news should be
conveyed, I have a differing outlook than my fine husband. These personal,
family matters are beyond the scope of our understanding. We are outsiders and
only privy to one perspective. Undoubtedly Mr. Darcy’s perspective is vastly
different, that apparent by his actions. He is an honorable gentleman with a
reputation for honesty and integrity, with nary a whiff of scandal or
misbehavior, so I see no reason to distrust his relationship with Lizzy.”
Not giving Mr. Collins a chance to
rebut, or her mother an opportunity to launch into fresh hysterics, Lizzy spoke
loudly as she crossed the threshold. “Thank you, Mrs. Collins. It is a relief
to finally hear a sensible statement uttered within the walls of this room.
Based on the ridiculous speculations, blatant falsehoods, and dramatic
declarations I have overheard in the past ten minutes, I was beginning to lose
hope that wisdom existed in Longbourn.”
Mr. Collins—who was staring
at his wife in what appeared to Lizzy as stunned amazement that she would dare
to verbally disagree with him in front of others—lifted his gaze to Lizzy
when she entered the room. Piercing him directly with eyes hard and condemning,
Lizzy watched his astoundment mix with confusion and embarrassment. As she
knew, Mr. Collins prided himself on his ability to dominate a conversation,
humble phrases passing his lips even as he exalted his perceived superior
intelligence. Most of the time, Lizzy was amused by him. Not so when he ignored
her refusal of his marriage proposal, and definitely not at the present.