Seven Days With Mr Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  “Lizzy, how did you sleep?”

  “Very soundly. I suppose I was exhausted from my journey. At one point, Mr. Darcy and I had to get out of the carriage and push when it got stuck in a rut.”

  “I am surprised you rode with him — and in a phaeton no less! The storm was, no doubt, unexpected but the dust from the road would have been enough to deter me.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Where is your sense of adventure? Mr. Darcy had little choice if I was to arrive yesterday. His cousin is using his own carriage, and one of Lady Catherine’s was damaged the other day and not repaired yet. She was disinclined to offer her large barouche box for the journey. Lady Catherine’s daughter suggested the use of her phaeton. Mr. Darcy could drive it instead of needing a coachman and then returning him to Rosings. Additionally, Darcy only keeps one carriage in town— the one his cousin is using— so he can use the phaeton until Colonel Fitzwilliam returns.”

  “And hiring a hack being inconvenient,” Jane suppled and raised her eyebrows. “Darcy, is it?”

  Elizabeth blushed and stared at her hands. “If it were anyone but you they would be regaling me with “I told you so’s.” You are far too kind.”

  She squeezed her hands. Her feelings for Darcy were beyond her own comprehension, and she had not yet found adequate words for them. When she did speak of him, it was in halting and short sentences. “He is amiable. I like him very much. I was quite wrong about him.”

  “Please, tell me all!” Jane grasped Elizabeth’s hands, and Elizabeth could have cried at the affection of her sister after experiencing the strangeness of her supposed friend the last few weeks.

  “I will in time but for now I would like a bath, and we must get dressed and join our aunt and uncle for breakfast. Lydia arrives in a few hours, and it would be helpful to have some idea on how to handle her.”

  Jane furrowed her brow. She brought a shaking hand to her chest. “Why has she been sent away from Longbourn?”

  “Do not imagine anything too evil. She is not being brought here as punishment. We were hoping to separate her from some influences in the Meryton area. More will be explained after dinner.”

  Jane’s nervous expression did not change, but she pressed for no more information. Elizabeth took a moment to scrutinise her sister. She seemed paler and thinner. Dark circles were under Jane’s eyes. When Elizabeth had last seen her in March, she had been unhappy, but she did not seem despondent. Elizabeth was more worried about her sister’s health now than she had been directly after Bingley left.

  “Jane, will you tell me how you truly are? I can only imagine how grieved you are by Bingley’s actions. Darcy was quite upset when I told him.”

  “You told him!” Jane blushed.

  “He came upon me after I read your letter.” Elizabeth tried to hide her wistful smile for although the memory held sad ones, it also kept a happy one as well. “I was outraged and perceived him to be the source of it all.”

  “What did Mr. Darcy say?” Jane asked very quietly.

  Elizabeth’s heart broke for her sister’s pain. She still hoped to find some good in Bingley.

  “Darcy did encourage his friend to stay away from Netherfield. He thought you indifferent. His other concerns were about our family’s behaviour. He learned you were in town as Miss Bingley informed him, but she did not mention you had visited; that could have only been a sign in your favour. He never encouraged Bingley toward Miss Darcy.” Her face darkened as she thought of how unjustly Bingley treated her dearest sister.

  Elizabeth looked at her sister for a long moment. “Is that all that happened? Did you really not speak with Bingley at all?”

  “I did,” Jane whispered very quietly.

  “What?”

  Tears streaked Jane’s beautiful face as she released her heart. “He was shown into the parlour while I was there so I could not refuse to see him. My aunt was called away by one of the children and then—” Jane covered her face and sobbed into her hands for a moment. Elizabeth rubbed her back.

  When Jane had regained some composure, her face was mottled and red. She did not meet Elizabeth’s eyes. “He asked that I forgive him for his behaviour. He declared he loved me and wished to wed me. It was so dreadful!”

  Elizabeth had never felt so much confusion in her life. “But my dear why would that distress you?”

  “How can he claim to love me but treat me so badly?”

  There was no doubt from Jane’s reaction that she very much loved him. What had Darcy said? Love must be selfless. “I do not know, dearest. So, you refused him?”

  “How could I do otherwise? He had offered no explanations, and although he apologised, he did not seek to make amends. It was as though he felt he had only one moment to trust his courage and ask for my hand rather than court me properly.”

  Elizabeth could say nothing against her sister’s supposition. It was her opinion as well. “And are you absolutely decided against him? Could he not win your heart back?”

  Jane, who had searched for a handkerchief, sniffed. “My heart is broken and will never love or trust again.”

  Elizabeth had a growing suspicion her decision had less to do with Bingley’s treatment and more to do with Jane doubting her own sense. That was something she could keenly sympathise with. “Perhaps.”

  She would keep her thoughts to herself on the matter, for now, but Darcy must be told of this development. She would never desire Jane to marry Bingley without proper amends being made, but perhaps Bingley’s dependence upon his friend for advice may be of some use.

  After a pause, Elizabeth asked the question which had been weighing on her for some time. “Do you mind at all that I arrived with Darcy?”

  “No! Why should I?” Jane dabbed at her eyes but could do nothing for the puffiness from her tears.

  “I only worried that you would dislike the reminder of Mr. Bingley or the chance of seeing him again.”

  Jane slowly brought down the handkerchief and searched Elizabeth’s face. “Lizzy, do you have an understanding with Mr. Darcy?”

  Elizabeth was silent for a moment. “He has asked for several things, and nothing has been accepted or decided. I worry for the family’s acceptance of him and wish to slowly show my change in feeling first. I have told him I cannot promise to accept his suit but…”

  “But?”

  “It is very frustrating!” Elizabeth’s hands gripped the counterpane. “I do like him very much. I am flattered by his admiration, but you can certainly understand I worry for his constancy as well as my own. Not too many days ago I believed we equally despised each other.”

  Jane shot her a look, and Elizabeth knew that she was likely the only person with sense who thought Darcy disliked her. So blind had she been! “Time will sort it out, it always does.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dearest C—

  You cannot know how it pains me to see that you still reprimand yourself for not only your experiences but your lingering feelings. You have asked me what I thought of Armide and while I did not see Herr Gluck’s version, I know the story. Of course, I believe women have as much capacity as men to hate. That you seem incapable of hating your seducer does not define you as weak and neither is Armide for loving her enemy.

  Yours,

  A.F.

  Darcy returned to his Mayfair home with elation and trepidation warring in his breast. Elizabeth accepting his courtship filled him with triumph and pride. Being welcomed at the Gardiner house rather than turned out on his ear should have removed all fears. However, Darcy could not shake the feeling that his battle had just begun. The groves of Rosings had allowed them a reprieve from the demands of the world.

  Upon entry, he was informed Georgiana was already in her chamber. Determining to allow her to sleep, Darcy made plans for the morrow. During breakfast, he hoped to gain a clearer understanding of the situation with Richard and Bingley. While he trusted both to consider his sister’s best interests, neither had done so at the expense of t
heir own enjoyment before. Richard had every reason to focus his attention on stopping Wickham, and Bingley had never heard a thing about Georgiana’s intended elopement. He would have no reason to believe her in need of more chaperonage than a paid companion would provide.

  Once he had spoken with Georgiana, he would write letters to both men. Richard was in Sussex, but Darcy hoped to see Bingley before the day was through. Next, he would call upon his aunt, Lady Darcy. Lastly, he would dine with Elizabeth. Once Lydia arrived, all should be well, and he could begin truly courting Elizabeth.

  Despite his structured plans, nightmares tormented him while he slumbered. Titans captured Elizabeth and would not release her. Mocking that he could not slay them, they beat him then bound him in chains. He could do nothing to secure her release. His name, wealth, and strength were no help to his circumstances. In the distance, he could hear Elizabeth weeping. In the dream, years elapsed and he was no closer to securing his release or rescuing Elizabeth. He awoke with a pained head and a sick feeling that, regardless of the obstacles they overcame, he would never be united with Elizabeth.

  “Fitzwilliam!” Georgiana exclaimed when she and Mrs. Annesley entered the breakfast room.

  She dashed to his side and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. For a moment, Darcy was reminded of the always cheerful and cherubic child she had been, rather than the nearly grown young lady she now was. He greeted her companion before turning his attention to his sister.

  “Fitzwilliam, why have you returned? I thought you did not intend to leave Rosings for several weeks.” Before he could answer, she gasped and slapped her hands to her face. “Has something happened? Our aunt? Anne? Elizabeth?”

  “Calm yourself,” he said. “Everyone is well. I cannot divulge the reasons for my early departure, but you will be pleased to know that Miss Bennet is also in London. I have an invitation to dine at her aunt and uncle’s this evening. Perhaps tomorrow you may come with me when I call.”

  “Does this mean you are courting her?” Georgiana clapped joyfully. “Oh, I am so happy! So will the Baroness be!”

  “How does our aunt fare?” Darcy latched onto his aunt’s health rather than speak on his fledgling courtship.

  “I hardly know.”

  The suddenly light tone, as well as his sister’s busy movements at the sideboard, told him that she was more anxious than she had let on now, or in her letters. Darcy’s eyes met Mrs. Annesley. Her frown helped illuminate matters as well. Georgiana claimed a seat.

  “I have not been able to call on Lady Darcy very often. Others never leave me alone. The few times I manage to exit the house to make calls, she has not been in. She writes that she is in good health, however.”

  For now, Darcy would keep his suspicions to himself. Georgiana did not cope well with deaths. Their mother had died at her birth. Their father had died five years ago. Lady Anne had only been two and forty when she passed. Mr. Darcy had not seen sixty. The Baroness was nearly eighty. However, what worried Georgiana more than the old lady dying was her own mortality. Of their Darcy cousins, the males had all entered the military and perished. All but one female cousin had died in childbirth or from illness. Such misfortune did not fall on the other branches of the family, but it had made its impression upon the girl and influenced her recklessness in her ill-fated tryst with George Wickham. For a time, Georgiana had been convinced she would not live past thirty and, therefore, should marry as early as possible to experience as much of life as she could.

  “I understand Richard has frequently visited,” Darcy said before lifting his coffee to his mouth.

  “Yes,” Georgiana huffed. “I do not know why. I am no longer a child! And yet he does not tease me like he did before.”

  “What does he do?” Darcy watched Mrs. Annesley as Georgiana answered. He trusted the lady. However, experience had taught him to not take a companion’s loyalty for granted. Additionally, what Georgiana might conceal, the older woman would reveal. Richard was a relation, but he was a man nonetheless.

  “Mostly, he listens to me play. He says it soothes him. Why did he return early from Rosings? Richard will tell me nothing.”

  “Not all things are for you to know,” he said as he tossed aside his newspaper. “I have letters to write but I think, as your brother, I have just as much a right to hear what Richard has heard.”

  Georgiana laughed and followed her brother’s lead to the drawing room. As she began to play, he spoke with Mrs. Annesley.

  “You were very wise to write of Mr. Bingley,” she said. “He has visited almost every day. It is evident his sister prefers a match between them.”

  “And Georgiana?”

  “I think she sees the value in not being too keen to see an attachment. I have counselled her that admiration need not lead to love, and love need not lead to matrimony.”

  “Good,” Darcy said, too aware that he had uttered those same words months ago regarding ladies’ attitudes.

  “However,” the companion said as Darcy was rising from his seat. “Mr. Bingley seems rather persistent in his attention, and the Colonel scarcely less so.”

  “Richard?”

  Georgiana glanced at them when she heard the name.

  “May I speak frankly, sir?”

  “Please do.” Darcy could not conceive why Bingley and Richard would pay such attentions to Georgiana.

  “Miss Darcy is a beautiful girl.”

  That he knew. She was very much like their mother.

  “And it is no secret she will have quite a fortune. You have already seen her fall prey to one man.”

  “Yes, but I would trust Richard and Bingley with my life.”

  Mrs. Annesley sighed. “Want of money and security has a way of changing people. You will soon inherit a barony, a desirable connection; moreover, the title could pass to her if you have no heir. Marriage to your sister means more now than it would otherwise, and it may be more temptation than they can withstand.”

  Darcy nodded and armed with such knowledge composed letters to his cousin and friend requesting their presence as soon as possible. As Georgiana played, Darcy considered the possibility that Bingley no longer wished to pursue Jane Bennet. Was Elizabeth’s sister as heartbroken as Elizabeth had believed? Was he to blame for what might be a permanent separation? Would this extinguish Elizabeth’s new-found regard for him?

  As it happened, Bingley never appeared and the time came for him to call on Lady Darcy. He was shown into her chambers. Expecting his aunt to appear near death, she looked surprisingly well. Darcy could not feel more relieved. She was dressed and sitting in a chair near the window perusing old letters.

  “Fitzwilliam! You have returned from Rosings early.” She frowned.

  “You summoned me, my lady.”

  “Oh! I did not mean you to come early only that, once you were in London, to see me right away.” Darcy furrowed his brow in confusion as she continued. “I hope that I have not inconvenienced you.”

  “No. I had important business in London.” Darcy scrutinised his aunt’s face.

  “And how is the lovely Elizabeth Bennet? Will she become my niece?”

  “Aunt!” Darcy gaped at her. “How did you—that is, what have you heard?”

  “Oh, I have heard nothing. When you met Miss Bennet at the theatre, your feelings were plain for all to see. Georgiana and I have been sure for many weeks now that you meant to offer for her.”

  “Perhaps,” he answered neutrally. “So, you are not very ill?”

  “No!” She exclaimed. “What made you think so, my dear boy?”

  “Georgiana reported you were ill and then your letter…”

  “Just a cold, just a cold,” she reassured and dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief. “Come, I need your young eyes,” she said and passed a letter to him. “Can you read the signature?”

  Darcy focused on the script. It seemed very familiar to him, but the letter was decades old. The only lady he corresponded with who could have penned it would
have been Lady Darcy and yet it did not match her hand. “Your niece, Clara.”

  “Oh, good. I did find the right ones!” She hastily stuffed them into a box. “These were your mother’s. I thought you might like them.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  “They are mostly filled with nothings. Certainly, nothing that would interest a young man.”

  “I will treasure them all the same,” he said.

  Lady Darcy gave him a sad smile then gazed out the window for a long moment. “Fitzwilliam, will you promise me something?”

  “Of course,” he answered.

  “Should you choose to not marry Miss Bennet, you must not wed your cousin Anne under any circumstances.”

  “I believe I may safely promise that,” he smirked. “But why do you care so deeply? Is this just due to your dislike of Lady Catherine?”

  “No, you misunderstand. I do not dislike Lady Catherine. I have a very keen interest in her life which she has never appreciated.”

  Darcy rolled his eyes. Did Lady Catherine learn her meddlesome ways from his great aunt? “If you will excuse me, I have a dinner invitation.”

  “Certainly,” she said. “Perhaps you can call again tomorrow, and bring Miss Bennet with you?”

  “My pleasure, Aunt.” He kissed her cheek and departed for Gracechurch Street.

  *****

  Breakfast in the Gardiner House was slightly unnerving. Everyone had questions, but there was an agreement to wait until Darcy and Mr. Gardiner were present to speak on the matter. Jane knew nothing of Wickham’s plot to hurt the family, but Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth found it difficult to conceal their anxiousness until the very moment Lydia walked in the door. She was insensible of any danger she was being saved from. She only knew of the amusement London offered and felt the compliment of being invited over Kitty. However, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her, feeling she had protected her family from Wickham’s treachery.