Discovering Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Novella (A Dash of Darcy)

by Leenie Brown

  Mr. Bennet swallowed and blinked against the tears that wished to fall. It was all for which he had wished for his Lizzy — to be loved completely. “For some of us, such a thing is not easily admitted.” He looked behind him down the path he had taken from the parsonage. “She is special to me — in a way her sisters are not, so it does my heart good to hear she will be loved as she deserves. It is still not easy to part with her, of course.”

  “I shall likely feel the same when I have to part with my sister.”

  Mr. Bennet nodded slowly. “You wish for their happiness, you know.”

  “I do.”

  Mr. Bennet stood silently for a moment longer before turning around and continuing on his walk with Mr. Darcy. “To my request,” he began, “my wife would be greatly pleased if you were to marry by special license.”

  This request was speedily agreed to, and Mr. Bennet was petitioned that, after her time in Kent was up, Elizabeth be allowed to stay longer in town than first planned. There was a need to introduce Elizabeth not only to his sister but also to his uncle, Lord Matlock.

  As Mr. Bennet saw it, it was wise for both Darcy and Elizabeth to know if their marriage would meet with approbation or displeasure while they were still preparing for life as a married couple, and so he agreed. He would stop at Gardiner’s on his return to Longbourn and inform them of the change and the reason.

  And so it transpired that after Darcy’s time in Kent was at an end, he returned to London to share the news of his betrothal with his sister and his uncle.

  Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth joined him in town for a grand dinner party in her honor. So grand was this party, and so happy the occasion, it necessitated the presence of Lady Catherine and Anne. The Gardiners were also invited as were Mr. Bingley and Jane. Fortunately, the week prior to this soiree, indeed before the invitations had arrived, the Hursts, with Caroline in tow, had removed to a small estate in the country to visit a friend with a cousin of marriageable age and fortune.

  Therefore, it was a companionable group that met that evening at Darcy House. The dining room was set with its finest and not a surface that could hold a shine was dim. All was to be presented at its best for the new mistress.

  “What do you think of Darcy House?” Darcy asked Elizabeth as they slipped out the door to the terrace.

  “It is very grand.” Elizabeth turned to look at the house from the bottom of the garden steps. “It is beautiful.” She smiled and chuckled. “I fear I will not do it justice, for I am merely tolerable, and it is so handsome.” She turned laughing eyes toward Darcy.

  Over the days they had spent at Rosings, they had fallen into an easy friendship. It had started that afternoon in the music room when the blinders of prejudice had been removed, and it had continued through each walk in the groves, ride in the countryside, and afternoon and evening spent in each other’s company.

  Elizabeth had found Darcy to be a person with whom she could share a great camaraderie. They had discussed a great number of topics, from preferences of seasons and plants, to books and politics, to family and dreams and wishes for the future. Not every topic had been delved into with any degree of depth as to think it thoroughly canvassed, but it had been touched in such a way as to assure the pair that they were indeed companionably matched. That is not to say, of course, that either one or the other would not on some point or another be unwilling to shift their opinion, but on the important matters of life and love, they were in almost unanimous agreement.

  Darcy shook his head and, taking her hand, lead her down a path away from the room filled with people and the few who were enjoying the coolness of evening on the terrace. “Will you ever forget those words?”

  “It is unlikely,” she said with a laugh.

  “They are untrue, you know.” He pulled her close to his side. “You are definitely handsome enough to tempt me,” he leaned closer to her ear and added in a whisper, “beyond reason.” It was a statement he had proven with ardent kisses at least once per day while at Rosings.

  Elizabeth blushed and ducked her head. She was still not entirely at ease with this new, complimentary Mr. Darcy. Parrying and dodging quips, refuting arguments, and challenging ideas were Elizabeth’s natural bent when it came to engaging others in conversation. Having to speak of one’s inner desires and feelings was more challenging, but it was something to which she was slowly growing accustomed. For all of her life, there had only been one person with whom she shared such thoughts — Jane, but now that role would be filled, as it had been during the last portion of her stay in Kent, by Mr. Darcy — her husband. That word — husband — made her stomach flop and a skitter of delight race up her spine.

  “Have I silenced you?” There was laughter in Darcy’s tone.

  “I am afraid you have,” said Elizabeth, glancing up at him and giving him a small smile.

  Husband, she said the word once more in her mind, and the excited delight of a moment ago slid into a welcome comforting feeling that wrapped around her heart tightly. How she had ever doubted it was love for the man beside her that longed for his presence and good opinion, she was unsure. It was stubbornness, she supposed, or naivety, or just plain fear of the heretofore unfamiliar.

  She had never been in love. It was not something which had been explained in books or described with adequacy by any friend or relation. She credited this to the fact that love was so individual. To Jane, it was a happiness of heart; to Aunt Gardiner, it was a comfortable companion; to Charlotte, it was security for her future. To Elizabeth, it was all these things, but more — something far deeper than those explanations had ever suggested. It was a mingling of one heart and soul with another — mixed and twisted in such a way that the two would never be separated.

  Darcy watched her tilt her head, knowing she was thinking of a reply, and, therefore, waited patiently in silence.

  “Do you remember,” Elizabeth began, “how you told me the first evening we were in company at Rosings, when I was playing the piano, and I was teasing you about your behaviour in Hertfordshire, that you do not have the ability to speak as easily to people as others do?”

  Darcy nodded. “I do.”

  Elizabeth drew a breath — a deep, chest expanding breath — and then released it slowly. She knew it must be done. She must speak of her heart to him, no matter how strange it might feel. In three day’s time, they would leave London and its relative peace for the loudness of Longbourn. She was uncertain if her mother would allow space for Elizabeth to draw breath, let alone contemplate and ruminate on something so important as love.

  “We will find time for walks in Hertfordshire, will we not?” She could not bear the idea of quiet moments such as this being entirely removed from her. There was nothing so soothing as a stroll at Mr. Darcy’s side.

  “I will insist upon it.” Darcy smiled down at her. “I cannot survive without some degree of solitude. It is necessary for my well being, I assure you.”

  “Good,” said Elizabeth, a small weight lifting from her. “You know how dearly I love a solitary walk.”

  “I do.”

  Again, she drew a breath, though not quite as great as the last one. “I do not know where to begin,” she said at last. “So much has changed in such a short time.” She peeked up and saw him nod his agreement. “Before you left Rosings, I had thought I might be caught up in the newness of our situation. I thought that I craved your presence because you were…” she paused as if unsure of what she was about to say.

  “I was not your cousin,” he supplied. Her smile at his comment caused her eyes to sparkle and his heart to flutter. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

  She ducked her head again, but her smile did not diminish. “Yes, you are sensible.”

  He chuckled. “I shall remind you of that when you are put out with me.”

  She nudged him with her shoulder. “As I was saying. I thought I craved your presence because you were sensible. I thought I enjoyed your company because you had become a frien
d.” She peeked up at him again. “And you have become a friend, but it is more.”

  She stopped walking and turned to face him. She knew she must look at him while she said the words that had echoed in her mind and heart since the day her father gave her permission to marry the man in front of her. She would see his eyes as she said those words that she had questioned and contemplated. She would watch his face when she finally admitted those words that had befuddled her and had slowly drawn her into accepting their truth. “Rosings shall always have a dear place in my heart, for it is where I discovered you first in a locked bedroom,” she could not resist the urge to lift a teasing brow, and he chuckled. Somehow that low rumbling sound made it easier for her to continue, “and then, in my heart. I love you,” her lips curled into a smile, and her eyes glistened with happy tears, “most ardently, and I will continue to love you with my dying breath.”

  Darcy’s lips parted and then slid into the most endearing smile Elizabeth had ever seen, for it not only curved his mouth but shone on his face and beamed from his eyes. It was joy, pure joy. “You love me?”

  She nodded. “I do. I do not know how it happened or precisely when, but I love you.”

  Darcy gave no thought to the people who might come upon him and Elizabeth as they stood in the garden. Nor did he think about those who might be watching from the house. He did not even consider the teasing that would come from Richard about the poor example he was setting for Georgiana. He only knew that Elizabeth loved him and that such a declaration demanded he take her in his arms, which he did.

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and wove her fingers through his hair as she returned his kiss. This. This was where she wished to remain; here, with this man who loved her completely and whom she knew would always hold her heart.

  Epilogue

  Darcy stepped down from the carriage and extended his hand to help his wife alight before tending to his son.

  “No, no, I will take him,” Richard said as he tossed the reins of his horse to a groom and hurried toward the Darcys’ carriage to scoop up his namesake before the child’s father could claim him. Two-year-old Alexander Darcy — Alexander was Richard’s middle name — squealed with delight as his uncle swept him into the air and placed him on his shoulder.

  “Return him in an hour,” said Elizabeth. “He will be tired and hungry and not at all pleasant if you keep him out longer than that.”

  “Ah, we will not be hungry, will we Alex? Uncle Richard will find you a biscuit.”

  “An hour.” Elizabeth’s tone was firm. Richard was an excellent uncle when he was not being indulgent. She leaned on Darcy’s arm and whispered, “How do you suppose he will react when we tell him that he is to be an uncle a second time?” She placed her hand on her abdomen that was only now beginning to feel full and slightly rounded.

  Darcy chuckled. “Delighted. He has claimed that he wishes to see every room in Pemberley filled.”

  It was true. Richard had taken to the idea of being an uncle quickly and with the same fervour with which he approached most tasks. He promised that he would teach the child to ride and shoot, and he would see him well-educated at Darcy’s expense.

  “Then he had best find himself a wife and get on with the filling of the rooms. He is not getting any younger,” Elizabeth said with a laugh.

  “We will not be filling them all?” Darcy waggled his brows and smiled at his wife.

  “No, we will not. We must save some room for my father, mother, and sisters when they visit.”

  And visit they would — often, as they already had. Darcy was becoming accustomed to the commotion Elizabeth’s mother created on each and every visit, and he welcomed the times he could spend tucked away in the library with her father, for he had come to realize that though the man lacked exertion, he did not lack intellect. They had spent many a pleasurable hour in discussions of various books or locked in a strategic battle on a chess board.

  Georgiana had been delighted to have ladies of about her age with whom to discuss all the topics that young ladies discuss behind bedroom doors while wearing robes and slippers and sipping tea as the candle burns low and hisses.

  Elizabeth had been terrified to allow her sisters to spend unsupervised time with Georgiana. Georgiana was all that was proper. She was young, but she was calm and reserved where Elizabeth’s youngest sisters were excitable and outgoing. However, Elizabeth had not taken into account the effect of thirty thousand pounds and of aunts who were ladies of the first circles with connections to titles could have on impressionable young ladies who wished to snare eligible husbands and improve their lots in life.

  Apparently, with the correct incentive, even Lydia could be found learning to play the piano while Kitty sang and Mary painted. It was remarkable, really, how the quality of the society in which her sisters now found themselves had elevated their own expectations of their behavior.

  Darcy waited as Elizabeth removed her hat and pelisse. “Are you ready?” There was always an interview of sorts to endure whenever the Darcys arrived at Rosings. Lady Catherine would wish to know about their trip, as well as any news about Georgiana and the Bennet girls. Just as she did when she travelled to Pemberley or visited with Darcy in London, Lady Catherine would also demand that Alexander stand before her for inspection, upon the completion of which there was always some small treat to be had. However, today, that inspection would have to wait until Uncle Richard had had his playtime.

  “I am. We should not keep her waiting.”

  When it came to Darcy’s family, Elizabeth had found her footing quickly. Richard was a teasing elder brother. Georgiana was a loving sister. Lord and Lady Matlock were welcoming, as was their son, the Viscount and his wife. And then there were Lady Catherine and Anne. Anne was a faithful correspondent, informing Elizabeth of all that was newsworthy in Kent. Anne’s mother was a doting great-aunt and regarded Elizabeth more as a daughter than a niece. She had even taken it upon herself to introduce Elizabeth — and Jane — to London’s society.

  That was the only place where Elizabeth’s transition into her new life had been truly daunting. Lady Catherine had not been in society for many years, and so her connections were not what they once were. There were frequent arguments between Lady Catherine and her brother, Lord Matlock, about what engagements were truly important for the new Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley to attend. Whether it was because Lord Matlock knew more about society than Lady Catherine or just more about Darcy’s aversion to society, Elizabeth did not care, for his interference had kept her home and afforded her time for solitude and reading.

  “Did Charles not join you?” Lady Catherine said after greeting both Darcy and Elizabeth with a kiss on the cheek.

  Charles Bingley had found himself taken in as a member of the family by Lady Catherine. If there was one thing that Darcy’s aunt found tantalizing, it was the prospect of offering guidance — by way of instruction and reprimand — to those whom she deemed in need of such service. Bingley, being both from trade and an orphan, was, in Lady Catherine’s opinion, decidedly in need of her assistance. Thankfully, Bingley was an amiable man, and his wife was longsuffering, for Lady Catherine was not always tactful in her instruction. Unfortunately, or perhaps happily for some, Caroline Ainsworth, née Bingley, was not as amiable as her brother and soon decided it was best not to be found very often in Lady Catherine’s presence. Therefore, she determined to keep herself to her husband’s sphere of friends as much as possible.

  “We left earlier, so that we could call on the parsonage before arriving at Rosings,” Darcy explained as he led Elizabeth to a sofa.

  “Another?”

  Darcy looked at his aunt in confusion. “Pardon me. Another what?”

  “Child.” She waved her hand at Elizabeth. “Your wife is walking as if she is with child. You cannot keep avoiding society in such a fashion, Darcy.” Her tone was stern, but she smiled. “I do hope it is a girl this time,” she said as she took her seat. “My given name is C
atherine Estella, you know.”

  This was not new information to either Elizabeth or Darcy. Lady Catherine had contributed a great list of acceptable names during Elizabeth’s first pregnancy. “Estella is beautiful,” said Elizabeth.

  “Indeed,” said Lady Catherine, settling back in her chair and looking satisfied that her name would one day be borne by a Darcy child.

  “The child is expected to arrive before the season, and we intend to be in town with Georgiana and Elizabeth’s sisters during the season,” said Darcy.

  Lady Catherine clucked her tongue. “Still unmarried, and so pretty.” She was nearly as bad as Mrs. Bennet in wishing to see all the Bennet daughters well married. “We shall have to see what can be done on that front.”

  “But what of Anne?” asked Darcy. “Will she not need you here?”

  “She has her husband and Mrs. Jenkinson, and I will not be far if I am needed.”

  Anne had married the spring following Darcy and Elizabeth’s fateful trip to Rosings. Mr. Abney had indeed been interested in courting Anne, and once Darcy had stepped away, Mr. Abney had taken very little time in making his intentions known. They, their daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson, who had been retained to help care for the child, lived at an estate ten miles from Rosings and nearer to London.

  “You will not miss your grandchild too much?” Darcy teased.

  “I should say not. I shall visit Anne on my trip to town and again when I return, and while I am in town, I shall have others to snuggle.” She smiled at the thought. “I have had Cook make biscuits just for Alexander — his own tin.”

  “He and Uncle Richard will be pleased,” said Elizabeth with a laugh.

  Lady Catherine tipped her head and nodded slowly. “He is very good with children, is he not?”

  “Surprisingly so,” said Darcy. “He was never so kind to me when we were children. However, he has always been understanding and gentle with Georgiana, so, I suppose, it should not surprise me so.”