A Reason to Hope

by Christie Capps

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I still cannot believe Charlotte married Father’s cousin, Mr. Collins. From what Papa says, he is a ridiculous man with an inflated opinion of his opinions, and those of your aunt.”

  Helping her around a hedge whose growth spurt had left a few leaves further into the path than the other plants, Darcy commented, “Dearest, consider the prospects of Mrs. Collins. One day in the distant future, she will be the mistress of Longbourn, an estate she can pass down to her children. With the entail broken upon your father’s eventual death, either a son or a daughter can inherit. Without her marriage to Mr. Collins, where would she be?”

  “I do see your point, William,” Elizabeth agreed, her lips lifting at the corners. “I have kept this a secret all of these months but will tell you now that Charlotte was as much in shock about our marriage as I was with hers.”

  “Was she, then?” Darcy nodded. “I suspected as much when it was a long time after our marriage until we received word from her. Mr. Collins wrote me almost immediately to welcome himself into the exalted Darcy family.”

  “I do recall the sudden burst of laughter—or was it derision?—that came from your study almost as soon as you broke the seal.” Patting his arm, Elizabeth stopped walking. “There are heavy, grey clouds rushing in upon us. Perhaps it is time to turn back?”

  His distraction with his wife and the topic they considered caused him to ignore what was now very obvious to them both. They were in for a hard rain. Their brisk pace almost kept them from getting wet. They were within sight of the side door when the first drops started to fall. Scooping his wife into his arms, he began to run.

  “Fitzwilliam Darcy!” she squealed, then laughed. Throwing her head back, both hands wrapped around his neck, she opened her mouth to catch a drop. When one missed and landed on the tip of her nose instead, he joined in her mirth.

  Mrs. Reynolds and one of the footmen waited to take their outer garments. When the heavy pile was in her arms, the housekeeper said, “An express arrived from Rosings Park in Kent, sir. The rider is in the kitchen awaiting your reply.”

  Darcy sighed. “Very well.”

  He carried his wife to his study. He wanted Elizabeth with him when he read the letter, as whatever the missive contained would affect her as much as him.

  Settling her on the sofa, he wrapped a warm blanket over her legs. Sitting close alongside her, he broke the seal.

  The Rt. Honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh

  Rosings Park, Kent

  Darcy,

  You can be at no loss, Nephew, to understand the reason for my letter. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I have written.

  A report of a most scandalous nature has been given me by my parson, Mr. Collins. He shared that Mrs. Collins received information that your wife is already increasing. What is the meaning of this? Are you not aware that persons of our exalted rank do not rush to fill their nurseries? I told you when you wed that upstart from Hertfordshire that she would be the undoing of you. This news proves me correct, as always. I ask you now, what do you intend to do about this travesty? The very name of Fitzwilliam is involved so do something, I command you!

  I will expect you for your annual spring visit in two weeks. Mr. Collins has prepared a lengthy sermon where he uses the death of our Lord and Savior as an example to nephews who should sacrifice and obey their elders. I have no doubt you will benefit from his discourse.

  Your closest living relative,

  Lady Catherine

  Elizabeth’s chin had dropped almost to her chest. “Is she truly as arrogant as she writes?”

  “More so, I believe.” Darcy folded the parchment, then placed it on the table. Elizabeth pushed it away from them to the far edge of the tabletop, where it teetered but did not fall.

  She harrumphed. “I cannot accept that a woman with claims of the highest intelligence would not realize that it is the poor who attempt to delay filling their nurseries. Those of her station yearn for heirs, do they not?”

  “You are correct, my wife. My aunt, as is usual, is wrong.”

  They both grinned.

  “If we ignore the portion about our nursery, this leaves the matter of you traveling all the way to Kent. Does this fit in your plans?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I do not know that I should go this year. We travel next week to Longbourn for the wedding of Bingley and Jane. This leaves us four hours from London, and another four hours to my aunt’s estate. I prefer to have your company for the whole of the journey, but it cannot possibly be good for you and our babe. Perhaps the better plan would be for you to remain with your family at Longbourn while I travel to London to see Georgiana. Richard usually accompanies me to Kent. We could take care of the annual review of the estate and be back to Hertfordshire within two weeks. Would this be a tolerable solution for you?”

  Elizabeth considered his idea carefully. “To be honest, with Jane and Mr. Bingley leaving immediately for their wedding trip, I would prefer not to spend too much time with my family. After an initial greeting and a short visit, Papa will withdraw to his study for peace. Mama will want to drag her wealthy daughter around the neighborhood. Mary would ignore me as she pursues her own interests, and Kitty and Lydia would torment me with their absurdities. Although I do not care to journey to Kent, I would enjoy spending time at Darcy House with your sister. Her letters have been delightful.”

  “A brilliant plan,” Darcy agreed. “I will send a note to the Fitzwilliams so Georgiana can be returned to Darcy House then alert the staff to expect you both. I will also write to Richard to ask him for his company.”

  “What of the express writer?”

  He grumbled, “I will reply to Aunt Catherine. To Kent I will go.”

  Jane Bennet was a lovely bride. However, it was not her sister who caught and held Elizabeth’s attention. Bingley had asked Darcy to stand up with him. While the groom stared at his bride-to-be, Elizabeth stared at the best man.

  When the rector asked the couple to repeat their vows, Elizabeth kept a slight smile on her face as she said the words silently to herself.

  “Wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

  Her gaze met her husband’s. As Bingley replied “yes,” Darcy tipped his head toward his wife.

  “Wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  When Elizabeth mouthed the word “yes,” Darcy smiled. The clergyman continued the ceremony. Elizabeth was so lost in thought that she completely missed the rest of the service.

  For a certainty, she had striven to obey her husband, grateful that he made the process palatable to her. She yearned to serve William, to make his life as comfortable as possible. Elizabeth knew in her heart that he did the same for her. She honored him, and she kept him during the sickness that plagued him early in their marriage. There was no difficulty in forsaking all others, as what other man could possibly compare to Fitzwilliam Darcy? None!

  But did she love him? Before they wed, she had vowed to protect her heart so she would not suffer loss when he was no longer living. Had she been successful?

  Elizabeth gasped. The answer was as clear as the chapel bells ringing. No, she had not been successful at all. For better or for worse, she was very much in love with her husband.

  As the newlyweds walked down the aisle, Darcy approached her, holding out his hand for her to take.

  She looked up at the warmth of his emerald eyes and saw exactly what she hoped to see. Pure, unadulterated love.

  Her fingers, of their own accord, joined with his. When they walked ou
t of the chapel together, it felt like a new beginning for her.

  He cannot die! Dear God, please let him live.

  Chapter 9

  Georgiana Darcy was exactly as Elizabeth had expected: delightful.

  “Come, Elizabeth.” Georgiana pulled her sister-in-law away from the bookshelves in Darcy House’s library. “You promised me that you would visit the shops. Do not go back on your word.”

  “But Georgiana,” Elizabeth pretended to whine, “we were at Bond Street yesterday and the day before. How many ribbons and pairs of gloves does a girl need?”

  The stunned look on Georgiana’s face made her chuckle.

  “Elizabeth Darcy, you must see more of London than Hyde Park. I am fatigued from the thought of one more stroll. Have you not made me walk more in the three days you have been here than I have in my whole lifetime?” Georgiana’s eyes twinkled, the result of her blatant exaggeration. “Come! I should have purchased that lovely yellow ribbon yesterday. I believe that my desire was piqued because you said the length of satin reminded you of a summer’s day. I simply must have it for my newest gown.”

  Laughing at the girl, Elizabeth accepted her coat and bonnet from her maid.

  “I am so happy you married William!” Georgiana nearly bounced as she spoke. “I love more than anything how easy he is in your presence, Elizabeth. To see him relaxed and smiling often is more than I ever hoped when he told me he would marry. And the best part is that you are equally as happy. I have decided I want no less for myself when I wed, which I will never do if I do not have that yellow ribbon for my gown, will I?”

  “You have become very pert, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth teased.

  The joy of spending time with her newest sister had been dampened by Darcy’s leaving for Kent that morning. Colonel Fitzwilliam had arrived at Darcy House ready to go so, according to him, he could hurry up and return. Darcy expressed his agreement with his cousin’s expression.

  Throughout the meal the evening prior to their departure, the men offered embellished accounts of their aunt’s insane comments on everything from raising chickens to the need for government tax reform. Nothing that Lady Catherine had said made sense to Elizabeth. Still, she was drawn into the conversation in seeing how relaxed her husband was with his family. Surely Lady Catherine was not that bad, was she?

  “I say, what a lovely wife you chose, Darcy. She is quite bright and cheerful, a good match for Georgie,” the colonel said almost before the door to the carriage closed.

  Darcy smiled, in full agreement with his cousin.

  “I will confess, Richard, that I will not say or hear a word against Elizabeth.” Darcy tapped on the roof to signal that they were ready to proceed.

  “Then you should warn our aunt of your stand before we are many minutes into our stay at Rosings. She remains bitter that you did not marry Anne. Even more, she is angered that you refused to consult her before you made a match in the first place.”

  Nodding, Darcy told his cousin, “I cannot help but think that Elizabeth saved my life. Before I offered for her, which had to be the worst proposal in the history of mankind, I had to set aside the feelings of panic and desperation that threatened to consume me. Once I saw her clearly, I inherently knew she was for me. I tease you not, Richard, my wife has brought me more joy than I dreamed possible. She is a constant source of amazement to me.”

  “You love her.”

  “I do,” Darcy could state without hesitation. “Her value is so much more than a mere companion or vessel for my child. She is fully involved in seeing to my health and happiness. Toward her, I am the same.”

  When Richard failed to respond, Darcy looked at him closely.

  “Is something wrong, Cousin?”

  Richard cleared his throat. “My health and welfare are good.” He paused. Finally, inhaling deeply, he began, “Darce, I recall the night you told me of your struggles. Before you asked me to marry Elizabeth as soon after her widowhood as was proper, you clearly stated your intent not to fall in love with her. You told me that to do so would cause you more pain than you felt you could handle. Do you recall?”

  “Yes, I do.” Swallowing the words threatening to bubble over, he merely stated, “I was a fool.”

  “Yes, well...” Richard focused his gaze out the window for a bit. Eventually, when he apparently had his thoughts together, he continued. “I am pleased to hear your affections are fully engaged with your wife for two reasons. The first, my friend, is that of any man I know, you deserve to be happy. This joy you are feeling will make your time left on earth, whether it is months or decades, easier for me to observe.”

  “So, my life is an act on the stage to you?” Darcy smirked.

  “That was not my meaning at all.” Richard chuckled. “However, you must admit that your performance has been rather entertaining. For years I watched you fight off the attentions of parasitic leeches with a skill few men possess. Either that or you ran at the first hint of compromise, outdistancing your predators easily. It has been very much like some of the more dramatic plays found at Drury Lane.”

  Darcy shook his head at his cousin despite recognizing the grain of truth in his analogy.

  “While I thank you that you recognize the pleasure I have in my marriage, you mentioned two reasons you are elated for me.”

  Richard squirmed in his seat. “Yes, well, as to that, I have met someone.”

  Darcy could not restrain his eyebrows from lifting almost to his hairline. His chin dropped. “What? When? Who?” he demanded. He began to get an unsettling feeling in his stomach when his cousin failed to answer immediately. Instead, Richard rubbed his hand over his mouth and stared out the window again.

  “Do you believe I would not approve?” Darcy asked, then waited.

  Without looking back at him, Richard replied, “She is the middle child of an impoverished country gentleman whose brother serves in my regiment. They have no money. Their estate is almost in ruin because of the neglect of the father. Susan, Miss Susan Carter, has worked her hands to the bone in an attempt to restore some sort of honor to their household.”

  “Gambling?” Darcy asked.

  “That and a series of poor investment decisions.”

  “I see. How many children are there in all?”

  “The eldest son is as much of a wastrel as his father. Malcolm is the next in line. He is a good sort and a capable officer who serves under me. The rest are three girls, of whom Miss Susan is the eldest. Their mother died a decade past.”

  “Are any of the other daughters married?”

  “None.”

  Darcy pondered the information thoroughly. Immediately, he saw Richard’s concerns.

  “Will you offer for her?” Darcy asked.

  “I would have the care of all of them except Malcolm on my military pay, which is fine for an unattached officer or a family used to poverty. The Carters’ downfall is recent. They have been used to a means of living far beyond my ability to provide.” Richard rubbed the palms of his hands on his trousers. “To hear of your happiness, to witness firsthand the joy of your marriage, suddenly becomes bitter medicine to me. I want to have what you have, Darcy, not who you have.” Richard looked to his boots. “There, you have it all, Cousin. Those are the two reasons I must take back my word that I would marry Elizabeth should there be a need.”

  Now it was Darcy who could not look at his cousin. At the time he had made the request of Richard, his heart was not attached to Elizabeth. Nevertheless, the whole conversation reminded him of how much had changed during the almost five months since his offer to her.

  Where once the idea of Elizabeth and Richard having a life together brought him a measure of relief, now it made his stomach churn. There was nothing for it but for he and Richard to discover an equitable solution so his cousin could find the same happiness as he had.

  “Would you accept the gift and care of one of my estates?” Darcy inquired, thinking it might be the perfect solution.

  “In tr
uth, I am unsurprised at your generous offer.” Richard turned away from the window to face him. “What you also need to know is that while this is the first time in my life that I have seriously considered marriage, I am not yet prepared to make her an offer. My reasons are not solely economical. You see, I am a selfish enough creature to desire my mate to have me as her top priority. There is a hesitancy I feel when I am with her. Thus, I must ask you, how did you know Elizabeth was the right woman for you? How were you certain she would be an asset and not a liability?”

  “A good question, Rich.” Darcy pondered how best to reply. Finally, knowing he could bare his soul to his cousin without fear, he told the events as they happened. “I was considering Elizabeth as a potential marriage partner but had not yet made up my mind. A few of the things about her that had impressed me sound rather similar to your Miss Susan. Elizabeth’s care for her family was unparalleled to anyone I have ever known. When Bingley’s sister spoke condescendingly to her, Elizabeth refused to reply in kind. Her conversation was exceedingly pleasant, and she comported herself as the lady she is—quite unlike Caroline Bingley, who attempts to act the lady she wants to be.”

  “Yes, I could see the appeal of the one and not the other.” Richard had his finger and thumb on his chin, nodding.

  “What convinced me that I had made the right choice was Sir Martin Frobisher.”

  “What? How could someone long dead have helped you choose a wife?”

  Darcy related to his cousin the conversation from the drawing room. “I knew right then that Elizabeth Bennet would be a wonderful mother to any child we had. Rather than enforce harsh discipline or ignore the child altogether like many in our circles do, Elizabeth would endeavor to train, to reason with, rather than to scold. There would not be much that would get by her; her mind is so swift. She would not be mean, to me or anyone else.”

  “Therefore, you proposed, and she accepted,” Richard guessed.