“You would never!”
“Caroline, I would. Take yourself to London in the spring. Seek out another Season, I shall give you funds for the last time. But the days of you chasing Darcy are over. And that’s my last word.” Charles’ face wasn’t hard with anger, but softened as he made eye contact with his sister. Caroline turned her head away as he left and sat perplexed over her next move.
It wasn’t until later that evening when she checked her post an idea came upon her. She may not be able to work on the brother, but the sister, why she would need all of the friends in the world. Before penning a letter to Georgiana, Caroline frowned and considered what an outcast she herself might become to befriend the girl marrying the steward's son. But, perhaps, by friending the sister in her greatest time of need, Mr. Darcy would come to see Caroline as the kindest woman of his acquaintance! Yes, by summer she would win his proposal and by autumn, living at Pemberley where she belonged!
She took the stairs to her boudoir to retire as Charles still had not returned from dinner, visions of an invitation to stay at Darcy House in London made Caroline beam with excitement. With her best hand, she wrote a letter of support to the youngest Darcy sibling, pouring compliments and considerations into every line.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Darcy siblings had little to say to one another during the short carriage ride from their town home in London to Matlock House for a family dinner. Darcy understood the evening to be a test of sorts. But he was not confident his sister understood the ramifications of the evening's success or failure.
"Tonight's performance will be a large indicator of how supportive the family will be of your match. I hope you intend to play the part of a perfectly prepared debutante."
Georgiana ignored her brother's insight as she stared out the window. Without giving him the satisfaction of a response, she merely continued a display of indifference as she accepted the footman's hand out of the carriage. Darcy's longer legs made short work of catching up to his sister, and both were welcomed hastily into the home.
"See my dear, I simply knew this shade of lavender would be ravishing on you!" The Countess of Matlock greeted her niece as if nothing were amiss.
The younger Darcy, with superbly pinned blonde curls, shook her head and giggled, an echo of the Georgiana they all loved. "I cannot wait for another shopping trip, Aunt! Now that I am to be a married woman, there are so many silhouettes and colors I cannot wait to wear."
"Patience, patience. Come next year there will be a lengthy schedule of events requiring your presence, and each one will demand an outfit of its own." Lady Matlock began to steer her niece towards the drawing room where drinks were being served.
The Colonel sidled up to Darcy with a conspiratorial aim. "She won't be able to afford such baubles if she cannot behave. Much as I hate to admit it, I agree controlling the purse strings is the only way we will reign in this catastrophe."
Darcy grunted a noncommittal response, adding up the astronomical sums of the various dresses and outfitting his sister and aunt were describing. He had little doubt that if Georgiana needed new attire, her husband Wickham would need similar tailorings. But there was no way Darcy would be taking the slimy Wickham to his personal tailor. In fact, the allowance would be Georgiana's to control. If he wished access to the funds, he'd need to kiss it out of her.
Upon entering the drawing room, Georgiana rushed to her precious George's side. Gently, she stroked his bruised cheek with her gloved hand, then turned to hiss at the male members of her family. "You've abused him! How could you hit a defenseless man?"
The countess glided to her niece and dragged Georgiana from her intended. "Let us all place the past in the past, from transgressions of running away from one's establishment," she gave a pointed glare to Georgiana, "to bouts of anger that led to violence." She handed a glass of wine to Georgiana and her husband, the Earl of Matlock, offered a "Hear, hear."
It was not a jovial toast, but all present begrudgingly raised their glasses. The awkwardness of the evening hung in the air, with none of the Fitzwilliam men offering conversation to Wickham. The steward's son did not appear to mind, as he attended to Georgiana and her conversation with her aunt. The Fitzwilliam men and Darcy were grateful when the butler arrived to announce dinner had been served.
The Countess of Matlock was renowned for her skills at table setting. She was wise enough to seat George Wickham and her niece with her at one end of the table, and her nephew and younger, hotheaded son, Richard, at the other end with her husband. For two courses, the conversation was strained, but polite.
As details and discussions of the wedding ceremony to be held in a few weeks' time, to allow Wickham's face to heal to a presentable level, Darcy lowered his silverware and beckoned the footman for a stronger drink.
“Careful nephew, the town shall talk if you take your meals with stronger spirits,” his uncle, the earl, admonished.
"Sir, I drink to delay my own logical failings. We possess a marriage license showing they married five months ago. Why bother with the charade of the ceremony, when all matters are settled on paper?"
"My sentiments exactly, Darce. I still think we ship him off to Australia and lock her in her bedroom." Richard said, in a far more serious tone lest anyone mistake him for jesting.
Lady Matlock pursed her lips as she heard the conversation at the other end of the table making a dangerous turn. She was adamant the evening be a modicum of success, even if she needed to take matters into her own hands. "Fitzwilliam, what about your own plans to wed? We realize the particulars of the current situation will stay a private matter for only so long. It is imperative you make an advantageous match this season as early as possible."
Darcy choked on his gulp of scotch and covered his mouth with his napkin. Despite the dark cloud hanging over the evening, Richard laughed at the expense of his cousin, happy to witness his mother chide someone else about matrimonial hopes.
"I have no plans as yet to wed a daughter of our society. I will have much too much business and adjustments to make with the new addition to my family." Darcy tried to avoid discussing his own personal life. However, the idea of his future wife brought back to his memory a pair of fine brown eyes that inhabited one intelligent, challenging maiden from a backwater county outside of London. Though he had little doubt Elizabeth Bennet would be more than a match for the worst London society could throw at her, Darcy knew his family would not rejoice in her penniless status.
"Tish Tosh. You are nearing thirty, boy. It is high time you married and secured the future of Pemberley." The flash of anger in his aunt's eyes brought to mind Darcy's worst fear. Should he fail to produce an heir, it would be Georgiana's issue that inherited the grand estate. A son of Wickham, thus polluting the shades of Pemberley? It was not to be borne!
Darcy cleared his throat. "I assure you madame, I shall take the issue to heart. Certainly you might acquaint me with the latest meat to be found on the market." Darcy offered his aunt a rare smile, showing off his dimples, to temper his crass rudeness.
His aunt picked up on the tease and merely laughed. "Be careful what you wish for, Fitzwilliam. I take that as an invitation and I heartily accept."
The earl and his cousins laughed at him, but Darcy was not afraid. He had avoided his aunt's best scheming for many years, this season would be no different. And if he was honest with himself, he hadn't given up hope that he might find some way back to Hertfordshire and the woman who stirred the most intriguing feelings of his heart.
He tried to wonder what Elizabeth might be doing right now, failing to attend the conversation around him. It was not long before his distractions were interrupted by the entire family table laughing at him.
Confused, Darcy glanced up at everyone staring at him. "I beg your pardon, I was not attending."
"Fear not, Cousin, it was merely my mother poking more fun at your future matrimonial bliss. We were simply debating whether the great man of Pemberley was more suite
d for a daughter of an earl or a duke."
Darcy frowned and shook his head, which made his family laugh even more. His mood further soured at the gross display of flirtation piquing between Georgiana and George Wickham at the other end of the table. Not wishing to anger his aunt, for the evening was half over, Darcy resumed eating his meal and allowed the dinner conversation to swirl around him. With any luck, there would only be another hour or two of torture to withstand.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A mere four days of planning a ball with Caroline had frayed Charles Bingley's nerves to their ends. The latest discussion about the guest list, and her icy comments on each local family as she penned the invitations had soured Bingley's mood as he boarded his carriage to dine once more at Longbourn.
Charles bounced his knee with exceeding anxiety in anticipation of meeting his intended. One smile from Jane would set him right again. Spying the front door to the Tudor-styled Bennet home lifted his spirits. With a deep, refreshing breath, he marched up to rap his walking stick and announce his arrival.
The two elder Bennet girls had a surprise to spring not more than a few moments after Charles entered the home. Standing in the entryway, Jane Bennet began donning her gloves, and his future sister-in-law, Elizabeth, flashed a brilliant smile and she was dressed for the outdoors.
"I am to walk!"
With a jovial laugh, Mr. Bingley kept his hat and gloves. With an exaggerated flourish, he offered his arm to the exuberant Miss Elizabeth. Seeing the poor lady so happy to escape her sickbed, he couldn't help but offer his friendship. Glancing over his shoulder, he took a moment to lock eyes with his Jane and gave her a wink. She blushed and nodded, so grateful of the care her Charles offered not only to her, but to her sisters as well.
The bombastic Mr. Collins appeared from above stairs, ready to stroll in the brisk, autumn weather. He stumbled for a moment at the sudden change in escorts, but recovered to offer his arm to his cousin, Jane.
"Come, let's not tarry and allow my mother to come upon us and delay us further," Elizabeth whispered with a conspiratorial tone.
"Are you certain you are permitted to take a walk, Miss Elizabeth?"
"Yes, Mr. Jones cleared her this morning. She's been waiting all day for us to be able to take the stroll as doubled couples," Jane answered.
"I do fear we might be rushing her recovery. Yes, yes, a country apothecary's opinion should not usurp the good sense of extended rest when it comes to a broken bone. My patroness, Lady Catherine, wrote to me on this subject and her advice is no less than three months in bed for a lady to recover in full, perhaps six months to be safe," Mr. Collins said.
Elizabeth blew out a breath of frustration. "Being such an excellent walker, I assure you I am healed. I would never risk forever, my beloved pastime with a hasty recovery." She lifted her skirt ever so slightly and stood on her strong foot, flexing and rotating her healed ankle in a multitude of directions. "See?"
"Far be it from me to keep you waiting." Charles chuckled as he opened the door himself. The mismatched couples didn't wander far from the main house, sticking to the bleak rose garden just behind Mr. Bennet's study.
The heady scents of autumn descended as a special treat to Elizabeth Bennet as she took her first genuine step out of doors. It had been so many weeks of recuperation she had nearly forgotten how free she felt wandering among the trees and Mother Nature. An isolated tromp in the woods would need to wait, today she was restricted by both company and command to stay close to the house. On their first circuit around the garden, Elizabeth made polite conversation with Mr. Bingley about the upcoming ball.
"Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, I – forgot. Caroline suggested the ball be held as an engagement event, and I accepted her sense in the matter, I did not take a moment to consider your ability to join in the festivities. I'm afraid the invitations went out today."
"Oh I find joy in all situations, even ones that make me the most cross. Today I'm walking, perhaps in another two weeks, I shall be dancing, if only for a set or two."
"Well you'll save a set for me, if you please. Perhaps the second?"
Elizabeth was desperate to know the names upon the invitation list, but to ask outright would be quite rude. This opening, plus a tease of her future brother-in-law, granted her just the opportunity to investigate the guest list further. There was only one name she hoped to know for certain.
Pretending to mull over Mr. Bingley's invitation to dance, she touched her lips with one finger. "Hmm, I'm not sure, I might be previously engaged. Pray, who are my options for a dancing partner attending from London? At the last assembly, gossip of the surrounding county surmised you would attend with no less than ten bachelors! I hope you have invited them to your ball or I am sorry to say you shall grossly disappoint the neighborhood yet again."
"I'm afraid I have no choice but to brook disappointment. Caroline handled the London invitations, so I cannot say the names of all she invited. I only took particular care that my friend Darcy made the list."
"Yes, yes, I did predict we could count on your closest friend to attend. Oh very well, I suppose I shall settle for a second set with such an affable brother-in-law." She offered the man a smile, but he was not paying close attention. Instead, the love-struck Mr. Bingley was glancing to Jane and Mr. Collins coming behind them when he led Elizabeth to a nearby bench.
Not wishing to end her first stroll at that moment, Elizabeth also did not want to admit her ankle was beginning to twinge at the increased exercise. She feared that sitting down would allow for a reshuffling of the couples. She had no romantic designs on Mr. Bingley, nor a wish to deny her sister the pleasure of her intended, but he was much better company than her cousin Mr. Collins.
"Cousin Elizabeth, I heard from Cousin Jane we are all to go to London!" Mr. Collins dropped Jane's arm without a bit of grace or consideration, and focused on Elizabeth, before shaking his head as if he only just remembered his manners. He glanced up to Mr. Bingley as he scurried to take a seat next to Elizabeth. "I thank you, sir, for your transport as far as the city. I must away to Kent for a week and set my affairs in order, and report to my patroness Lady Catherine that I have indeed settled on a virtuous and meek partner for my future life."
Perhaps some women would find meekness to be a compliment, but for Elizabeth Bennet, it was no less than a slap in the face. Still, Elizabeth did not wish to anger Mr. Collins and cut short their jaunt out-of-doors. With the practice of a social maven, she merely changed the subject.
"Jane, are you and Mr. Bingley decided upon a destination for your wedding trip? I wonder if my wardrobe shall need a new item or two in preparation . . ."
Jane and Charles exchanged uncomfortable stares as Elizabeth waited expectantly. Charles shifted his weight from foot to foot as he linked his arm to Jane's. It was scarcely perceptible, but Elizabeth caught Bingley giving a small squeeze to Jane's forearm when he clasped his hand over hers.
"Mary is to go to London with us, Lizzie." Jane stared at her younger sister with her eyes wide, pointedly communicating she not continue this line of questioning. Elizabeth missed the practice of unspoken communication the two sisters shared.
"Mary? Whatever for? She despises going to the dressmaker here in Meryton."
Charles Bingley cleared his throat, and gave an uncomfortable laugh. "We've asked Mary to go with us on our wedding trip. I'm sure you can understand, Miss Elizabeth, as we assumed you would be otherwise indisposed."
The couple on the bench wore drastically different expressions upon their faces. The assumption by all that Elizabeth would marry Collins created such a mask of displeasure on the face of the lady, it was only rivaled by the vision of sheer jubilation on the face of the gentleman.
"I'm sure, my dear, we can invite perhaps Cousin Catherine or Cousin Lydia on our own trip." Mr. Collins patted Elizabeth's hand that rested on the bench. She reacted by yanking her hand away as if scalded.
"Mr. Collins, I will thank you to not take such l
iberties as I have not granted. I am no more your intended than Jane and Charles are yet married and living as husband and wife." Elizabeth stood up and tugged her Spencer down as it was two seasons old and one of the many items she hoped to replace in London. Feeling constricted, despite the abundance of fresh air, Elizabeth took to making another circuit around the garden, alone. The only compliment she could pay Mr. Collins was the man possessed enough intelligence to remain seated on the bench. She was thankful he did not attempt to follow her for she could not promise kindness.
Although it was quite unladylike to show anger, Elizabeth could not help her temper. Even her favorite sister had as good as married her off. Was she not to receive the courtesy of a proposal? The thought sickened her stomach, and Elizabeth clutched her midsection as she stared at the stubborn thorns clinging to the rose bush. She had no desire to accept such a proposal in any event. Her world was moving too fast, too rushed and too beyond her own control.
To calm her nerves she resumed reflections on the intelligence she garnered from Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy was invited to the ball, perhaps he would ask her for the first set! Elizabeth laughed as she recognized her own schoolgirl sensibilities seeking this fantasy. She would not dare to hope such a blatant courtesy would be paid upon her, the less handsome sister. Her heart still hoped if Mr. Darcy did come from London to the ball, it would mean perhaps he had designs of a more serious nature. It was such hope that allowed Elizabeth to remain pleasant when Mr. Collins approached her and announced he was too cold and wished to go indoors, saying he expected Elizabeth to follow him.
Elizabeth glanced to Jane and realized the sympathy in her sister's eyes. Immediately, Elizabeth felt guilty. It wasn't Jane's fault she was in such a predicament. Thankfully her sister's sympathy extended far enough that she linked arms with Elizabeth and the three of them left Mr. Collins to walk alone as they headed back towards the house.
By Consequence of Marriage (A Pride & Prejudice Novel) Page 10