Seven Days With Mr Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  Darcy’s voice boomed from the doorway. “That is enough!” he cried, coming into the room. “How could you ever think I would marry Anne? And how could you ever think Elizabeth would need to use arts and allurements to gain my notice? Do you not see what she just did for your daughter, even as you insult her in every way imaginable? How could I not love her?”

  Darcy stopped speaking as the whole room and, he sensed, there were others behind him as well, looked sharply in his declaration. Elizabeth’s face assumed an unreadable expression, but her eyes misted.

  When she regained her breath, Lady Catherine would not be gainsaid. “Love? Love! Honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid this match. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest. You will never gain what you so obviously desire: acceptance in the first circles. You will not be noticed by his family or friends. You will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”

  “These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But as the wife of Mr. Darcy I will have so many other sources of happiness I would never repent the disapproval others have of our union.”

  Darcy brightened at her words and walked to her. “Are you well? I was waiting for my uncle to arrive, but when he was late, I chose to come ahead, rather than keep you waiting.”

  “Yes, though I fear the bonnet is ruined. I hope you do not mind.” She gave him an impish grin as she picked it up for his inspection. “I will have to thank your aunt and cousin for being of use to rid me of this hat!”

  She laughed a little and Darcy returned the smile. There was an unspoken agreement between the two to not allow Lady Catherine and Anne de Bourgh’s display of ill breeding to ruin their wedding day.

  Lady Catherine continued in the background until another male voice joined the fray. As Elizabeth did not recognise it, she could only assume it was a relation to Darcy. “Catherine! Cease this immediately.”

  Lady Catherine jumped at the voice. “Dickie!” She cleared her throat. “Sidney, what are you doing here?”

  Elizabeth gasped. This was not how she hoped to meet the earl!

  “I could ask the same of you! You were told repeatedly that Darcy would not marry Anne. Then you come on his wedding day to try to stop the proceedings?? If nothing else, can you not see how this would harm the family’s reputation? Are you devoid of every proper feeling?”

  Lady Catherine exclaimed, “Wedding day? I come to prevent the false announcement of this betrothal at a ball!” Turning to Elizabeth and Darcy, she declared, “Good Lord! Is this your wedding dress? Darcy, what on earth are you marrying?”

  Darcy took a step towards his aunt. “The ball was held two nights ago, but how did you know of it?” His aunt was silent, but Darcy could easily guess. Turning towards Elizabeth, he explained, “Now we see what was so important that your cousin faced the rain on Monday and caught cold. Due to the rain, the ink must have smudged.”

  Anne began muttering and proceeded to cough, drawing the earl’s notice. Lord Sidney hissed quietly so only the occupants of the room could hear. “Catherine, where is Mrs. Jenkinson? Anne needs her tonic! I am pleased you do not keep her locked away like some do, but this fantasy that Darcy would marry her opens you both to ridicule!”

  Lady Catherine seemed properly chastised, for the moment. “If he does not take her, who will? Only he would overlook her…deficiencies. Pemberley could pass to Georgiana’s children. Who will care for Anne when I am gone?”

  Sidney, Darcy, and Elizabeth stared at her in disbelief. Darcy replied reassuringly, “Aunt, how can you doubt your family? We will see to Anne, but Pemberley needs a healthy mistress and heir. Would you deny me the joy of fatherhood?” He glanced at Elizabeth, who blushed deeply. “She is very worthy and capable of the role. Mother would have liked her.”

  Lady Catherine only clucked disgustedly in return.

  “You will wait here until the breakfast is over, and we shall arrange for your return to Kent,” Sidney said.

  Elizabeth spoke up. “Please, sir. Miss de Bourgh looks as though she needs rest and refreshment. We have an empty guest room…”

  “Absolutely not!” Lady Catherine replied with all her past fury reawakened. “I will not abide here another moment with these people. Darcy, you will arrange for us to stay where you were.”

  Darcy and the earl laughed outright. “Aunt, my friend Bingley was my host. He is leasing a nearby estate.”

  Anne began to cough again, and the lady seemed to relent. “Very well, Darcy. Anne needs her rest. That is the least you owe her.”

  Bingley stuck his head into the room. Darcy and Elizabeth stifled a shared groan at the knowledge that the whole household knew of the argument.

  “Madam, I would be pleased to host you and your daughter.” Glancing back he spoke to his sister, who was trying to peek inside. “Caroline, might you go with them and speak with the housekeeper?”

  “Of course, Charles,” Miss Bingley said. “If you would just follow me, my lady.”

  Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes. “I have met you before.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have had the honour of meeting with you when I have visited Miss Darcy.”

  Lady Catherine scrutinised Miss Bingley. “I recall you are a very genteel sort of girl. Surely you know your place and never aspired to rise above it like so many who know my nephew.” She cast another disdainful look at Elizabeth.

  Miss Bingley stuttered her reply. “Yes, of course, my lady.”

  Darcy took a step forward to chastise his aunt again, but Mr. Collins came rushing into the room. “Lady Catherine, I apologise for my untidy penmanship to inconvenience you in such a way…”

  She thumped her walking cane on the ground. “You will come with me to continue your apologies.”

  Bingley intervened again. “If you will just follow me to the carriage, Caroline will see to everything else.”

  Darcy and Elizabeth both gave him a grateful look as the others finally left the room. Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity, and people were shooed to their proper places. Elizabeth braced for her mother to have an attack of nerves with an earl in the house, but she remained acceptably composed and managed to direct things as necessary. By chance, she was left alone with him in the parlour.

  “I have heard many things of you, Miss Bennet.”

  Choosing to rely on wit lest she be intimidated, she smiled. “A lady always enjoys knowing she is being praised.” She added a wink for effect, and the earl began to chuckle.

  “Between your wit and your grace, I think you will make a fine Mrs. Darcy.” He took her hand in his and kissed it with affection. “You will honour our family.”

  Before Elizabeth could make much sense of things, she was walked by her father to the Longbourn parish pastor, who stood in the decorated drawing room. Soon, Darcy was pledging to comfort, and honour Elizabeth. She could not deny the thrill she felt as he declared he would love and cherish her. She was his, Elizabeth Rebecca Darcy, as something told her she was always meant to be. He smirked a little as she rushed over her promise to obey. When he slid a beautiful heirloom emerald ring onto her finger, she was radiant.

  The wedding breakfast was a complete blur. Her mother tried to make it as elaborate as possible, given the short notice. She met the Earl of Sidney with all proper decorum. He seemed very amiable and even conversed with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though he managed to avoid Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. Elizabeth enjoyed the obvious pride and joy on Darcy’s face when he formally introduced her as Mrs. Darcy. She rather liked the title herself.

  Upon finishing her goodbyes to her family, saving her father for last, Darcy escorted her to the door. Jane came flying at her and squeezed her tightly before placing one of her own hats on her sister’s head and tying it.

  “One last sisterly act, dear Lizzy,” Jane spoke with tears pooling in her eyes.

  Darcy squeezed her hand and led her to the carriage. Facing opposite her h
usband in the luxurious carriage, she strained her eyes to catch the last glimpses of her childhood home.

  *****

  As they drove beyond the Meryton boundary on the road towards London, Darcy watched his wife’s eyes fill with tears. He pulled the curtains shut and crossed to the other side of the carriage. He withdrew his handkerchief to gently wipe her eyes, untied her bonnet, and pulled her into his embrace. It was as much for his comfort as for Elizabeth’s, but she seemed to readily accept his attentions. He surmised that she felt overwhelmed by the events of the day. His aunt and cousin’s attack, followed by the wedding, and compounded by leaving her home and family behind; he could understand her anxiety. As much as he loved her, he acknowledged they knew little of each other. Here he was, minutes into his marriage, and his wife was sobbing in his arms. He prayed it was only due to the emotions of the day and not the added concern of being alone with him, of being his wife.

  He began to realise how he really had no clue how to be a husband or soothe a woman. He was little more than a child when his mother died and scarcely knew how to comfort his sister. Darcy could not summon the perfect words to say and chose to simply hold her and caress her back. He pressed kisses into her hair and was pleased that she seemed comforted by his meagre attempts and nestled even closer.

  After some amount of time, they fell asleep, still nestled in their embrace. The footman’s call that they had arrived at the coaching inn to change the horses awoke them. His arms felt quite bereft when Elizabeth pulled from him and declared that she desired to see to some personal needs during their wait.

  When they returned to the carriage, she appeared in better spirits. Darcy smiled as she chose to sit beside him. He immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “How are you feeling, dear?”

  “Better. It was just the nerves from today and, well, the last few weeks. I am usually not given to anxiety.”

  “It is quite natural. I too have felt the effects of the day and the tumult of our engagement. But now there is no rushing. We have the rest of our lives to know each other.”

  Elizabeth gave him a grateful smile that soon turned teasing. “And our odd relatives? You have met all of mine. Do you have any others, sir?”

  Smiling, Darcy returned her playfulness. “Relatives, or do you only mean the odd ones?” This earned a chuckle from Elizabeth, and he was delighted that he had eased her spirits.

  Turning serious, she carefully replied, “You have only a younger sister, I believe.”

  Darcy’s smile turned wistful. “Georgiana. She is more than ten years my junior and the dearest creature, doubly precious as she was my only immediate family until we married. Mother died shortly after her birth. My cousin Richard and I have been her guardians since Father died five years ago.” A variety of emotions passed across his eyes while he was speaking. He grew silent.

  “I understand she is very accomplished.” Elizabeth pushed for more information with obvious nervousness.

  The tone of her voice gained Darcy’s attention. “Miss Bingley is a shameless flatterer when she feels it to her advantage. You are clever enough to guess that she sought not only to garner favour from me, but she also was attempting to insult you during her speech on accomplishments. Georgiana is but fifteen. She excels in music but has little patience to show true proficiency in the other arts yet, nor will I pressure her to learn them. She is fond of reading. She is also painfully shy. I believe she will gain as much from your liveliness as I will.” He squeezed her hand, and Elizabeth let out an audible exhale.

  “And your other relatives? Lord Sidney seems very amiable.”

  “Yes, my mother’s generation of Fitzwilliams were quite varied. I am told Mother was quiet and shy and that Georgiana is quite like her, but in my memories, Mother is always perfect and serene, not quite as reserved as my sister and I. She shocked the older generation of her family with a love match to my father. They wanted a titled man, but she was firm in her love for him.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “She sounds like Jane. She used to be dreadfully shy, but we Bennets are nothing if not adaptable; in time, she learned to find an inner peace and project such serenity outward. This masks her fervent feelings, not dissimilar to your own, I suspect, and she will only marry for love.”

  Darcy was amazed at Elizabeth’s words. When Bingley first proposed, Darcy had not believed Jane had regard for his friend. Had Darcy not been so consumed with his own concerns or known Bingley entertained serious thoughts about Jane, he would have considered warning Bingley off. Afterwards, while there was little he could do about his friend’s engagement, especially after events at the ball, he had remained sceptical, although he could not assign terrible motives on Jane’s part for the incident at the ball. Now he searched his memory and recognised that her countenance when with Bingley was quite like his mother’s calm affection for his father. Perhaps it was fortunate he had not had a chance to interfere, both for his friend’s happiness and his own relations with his wife and her family.

  “And the other Fitzwilliams?” Elizabeth’s voice startled him from his musings.

  “The earl’s four children are as amiable as he. You already know Lady Catherine is horribly overbearing.” He paused again as the events of the morning raced through his head. “I owe you an apology.”

  “You cannot be held responsible for the actions of your family.” Her words made his heart clench.

  “That is exactly it. During our engagement, you have felt unsure of my affections many times. And I have repeatedly declared how much I value you. I have denied any desire for a wife only of rank and fortune, but you still seem to believe I had my doubts.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth replied. She stirred uneasily.

  “Did you…do you believe I hold your family in contempt? Is that why you have been so upset today? You fear you will not see them often?”

  The tears flooding her eyes were answer enough. “I will admit their behaviour to you often disgusts me. I speak more of your parents’ lack of consideration for your feelings. Though claiming to love you, they display impudence and vulgarity in their lack of decorum. Please believe me; although I cannot be at ease with them, I would welcome your visits with them either in Hertfordshire or in any of our homes. I know what it is to lose family. I would never ask that of you simply for my own comfort.”

  Elizabeth took a shaky breath. “Thank you. I know most of them are quite indecorous, but I love them. And what is more, they love me, and as I enter your world and your family with an unsure reception, they mean all the more to me.”

  She paused for a moment, then softly added, “I fear you will come to regret me…come to think I am too like them, regret that I am not enough like the ladies of the ton. If I embarrass you, will you think me as wild and vulgar as my family?”

  Darcy was stunned to realise he had never considered Elizabeth would feel that way, though he secretly believed she oversimplified her family’s acceptance of her. Did he not hear her mother criticise her frequently?

  Darcy took one of her hands and raised it to his lips before speaking. “I am sorry you fear for your acceptance. I hope meeting my uncle has helped assuage some of your fears. I could never regret you. Let me express from the bottom of my heart that I am humbled and ashamed of my aunt’s actions. I cannot criticise your family when my own is much worse. And I see now I must value them for the way they shaped your life and made you into the fascinating woman you are. And I thank you for not judging me too harshly in light of my vulgar relations.”

  They sat in silence. Darcy held Elizabeth’s hand on his chest, over his beating heart. He certainly felt a closer intimacy with Elizabeth than he ever had before. It was liberating to express his feelings about her family, although disconcerting to see how wrong they had once been. Even more gratifying, Elizabeth accepted him still, although she had seen yet another side of the worst in him. With everyone else, he needed to be the master of Pemberley, faultless in all roles: master, landlord, neph
ew, cousin, brother, and friend. Elizabeth saw who he truly was.

  At long last, she broke the silence. “I believe we were discussing your Fitzwilliam relatives?”

  “My mother had three other siblings, but they died young. A fever struck the family and left tragedy in its wake. Such was nearly the case with Anne.”

  “Does she still suffer?”

  “She was such a gentle and happy child until a bout with scarlet fever one year. Now she is often plagued with pains in her body and heart. The fever occasionally returns. Lately, she has been prone to outbursts and uncontrolled movements. The physicians have evaluated her and can only say this is sometimes an unfortunate consequence of her fever. She is not always so incapacitated. In her right mind, she has no desire to marry; she is not fixed upon me. But during these attacks, she is…unstable.”

  Darcy had grown quite distressed speaking of the subject, but Elizabeth attempted to soothe him. “It must be difficult to see an illness take such a hold on a loved one.”

  Darcy only nodded. It was always acutely painful to see his loved ones suffer and pass, and he had certainly seen it many times over. Now he had the added burden of responsibility for helping to manage the de Bourgh estate.

  Elizabeth’s voice broke in again. “My mother’s siblings have that same range of behaviour as your own wider family’s. Surely you see Mr. Gardiner is nothing like Mrs. Phillips or my mother. I hope you liked the Gardiners.”

  Squeezing her hand, he smiled. “I truly did. They were very pleasant. We have been invited to dine with them while we are in London after the holidays, unless you would rather host them. I leave it to you to select the date.” Elizabeth smiled, and Darcy was grateful that Mr. Gardiner seemed ready to overlook his sins where Elizabeth was concerned.

  “My father had no surviving siblings. Did yours?”

  “Two older sisters lived; they married and moved far away. I rarely see them. Father’s youngest brother drowned as a youth, another one died as an infant, and the one nearest his age died in the Flanders Campaign in ‘93. His family had desired he enter the church, but he was not suited to that kind of quiet life, apparently.” Darcy sighed. Speaking of it brought to mind his father’s fervent wish for Wickham to enter the church to be spared such a fate.