by Leenie Brown
“And I, you, my dear Lizzy.” He kissed her cheek and then placed her hand into Darcy’s. “I know you shall care for her well.”
“I will, sir. Thank you.” Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand, tucked in the crook of his elbow, and held it there.
Mr. Bennet took up his walking stick and placed a hand on his friend’s arm. “I shall follow you to the door, but it may take me a while. I do not move so quickly as I once did.” He coughed lightly into his handkerchief.
Darcy walked slowly toward the door with Elizabeth on his arm. A few from the room had moved into the hall to farewell the newlyweds, but all stood to the side and allowed Mr. Bennet to pass. Jane and Bingley stood at the door with Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth paused to give her mother and sister a hug, and then waited for her father to reach the door, so that she could give him one more brief hug before descending the stairs to the waiting carriage. She turned as she entered it and gave a final wave to those who were waiting.
“Are you well, my love?” asked Darcy as he took his seat next to her and wrapped his arms around her.
“I am.” She snuggled into his embrace. “He chose well.” She smiled up at him.
“He did indeed.” He stroked her cheek and brushed a thumb across her lips before bending to kiss them. She sighed and pressed her lips more firmly against his as she had done the first time he kissed her. He had intended to give her the book he had requested from Bingley ─ the one she had been reading when the compromise had occurred ─ and perhaps he would give it to her in a while. But for now, he was content to revel in the privilege of holding her and kissing her as no other man had. And as her hands slid up his chest and around his neck, he said a word of thanks for having been fortunate enough to be her father’s choice.
No Other Choice
Chapter 1
December 18, 1811
Lord Samuel Rycroft blinked and looked at his mother as if he was unable to understand what she had said. He took off his hat and placed it on the table in the entry way at Netherfield. “Pardon me?”
“I said we will depart for town when Miss Mary arrives.” His mother made her way back into the sitting room and peered out the window. “There is no need to fear. She knows I am always early.”
“I am still not understanding why we must wait for Miss Mary.” He unbuttoned his great coat and began to shrug out of it. He had hoped to be in the carriage by now and on his way to town.
“Good morning, Georgiana,” said Lady Sophia. “Did you have something to eat, my dear?”
“Yes, thank you.” Georgiana laid her outerwear on the settee with her aunt’s things and took a seat near the window, so that she could see the drive. “I cannot wait for Miss Mary to arrive. It will be ever so pleasant to have her company.”
“Company?” Rycroft’s brows drew together. “Surely, we must not wait for you to finish a visit before leaving.” He had things to do in town and a sister of Bingley’s to avoid. He definitely did not have time for a social call.
Georgiana laughed. “A visit? At this time of the morning? I think not, Cousin. Miss Mary is to travel with us.”
Lady Sophia sighed at her son’s still puzzled expression. “She is coming to stay with me. Georgiana will soon be able to return to her brother, and I do not wish to be lonely.” She smoothed her skirt over her legs. With her eyes lowered as they were she could not see his expression, which was her intent, but she could see his toe start to tap as the silence in the room grew. She looked up at him with a smile and then turned to look out the window.
“A project, Mother?” It was not unlike his mother to take on a less fortunate lady and help her to find a husband.
“No, no.” She shook her head. “Miss Mary is not a project. She is a friend.” She turned back to look at him. “I do like to have company of the female sort, and if that company happens to be a young lady of marriageable age and in need of some assistance, it makes me feel useful. It has been all arranged. Miss Mary will travel with us today and stay the week. We will visit the shops and arrange for her orders; then, she will return to Longbourn with her aunt and uncle for Christmas. She will rejoin us in the new year to participate in the season.”
“A project.” He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “And I am supposed to pay for this project?”
Lady Sophia crossed her arms. “Miss Mary is not a project. She is a friend and a guest of mine.”
“Aunt,” said Georgiana softly.
Rycroft sighed. “But you shall require me to attend all of the functions you select?”
“Well,” said Lady Sophia, ignoring Georgiana’s second soft call, “we shall need an escort, and you need to attend anyway if we ever expect to find you a wife.”
“We do not need to find me a wife. I can do that on my own.” He hated being reminded of his duty to the title and his need to marry. He had been looking, but there were not any young ladies who interested him. They were all so agreeable, so biddable, so boring.
“You have done a poor job of it thus far, my son.” Lady Sophia cocked her head to the side and gave him a stern look. “If you will remember, I gave you until this season to sort it out for yourself. Now, I will assist you. The deadline has passed for you to continue on without my interference.”
“Fine.” His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched slightly. “I shall trot about with you and your project, Miss Mary, but I shall make my own decision.” He stiffened as he heard a gasp from the doorway behind him.
“Miss Mary,” Georgiana greeted Mary as excitedly as she could in an effort to counteract her cousin’s words. “I have been anxiously awaiting your arrival.”
Mary smiled as she always did when her father or mother or younger sisters said something insulting. It was not as if she was not well-prepared for handling such situations. “Good morning, Miss Darcy, Lady Sophia, Lord Rycroft. My things are on their way with the carriage you sent, my lady.”
Rycroft noted how her lips smiled, but her eyes held an ample amount of displeasure when she looked at him ─ which she did only briefly. Her words may have been pleasant, but he was certain her thoughts were not.
“Ah, Miss Mary, it is delightful to see you.” Lady Sophia crossed the room to her. Placing an arm about Mary’s shoulders, she said, “Please ignore my son. I am not sure where he gets his deplorable manners, for both his father and I did try to instill good ones in him.” She cast a displeased look at Rycroft. “He likes to refer to any lady that I have taken under my care as a project. He thinks I am only interested in the hunt for a husband for the young lady, but I assure you, I am also interested in the gaining of many young friends and excellent connections.”
Mary glanced at Rycroft, who was scowling slightly at his mother. “Perhaps, my lady, he needs to spend more time at church, so that he might learn to respect his parent, even if she is just a mother.” This time, she did not attempt to veil the look of displeasure she gave him. “Or a bit of reading, perhaps, at night might suffice. I can give you recommendations if you wish.” The smile returned to her lips, and her left brow rose just slightly.
“I do not need your recommendations. And I do attend church regularly.” He pulled on his coat as his mother began to move toward the door with Mary. “And I do not appreciate being thought of as a man who does not respect his mother.”
Mary halted and turned toward him. “Then, my lord, you should strive to make your actions match your beliefs, for at present they are quite contradictory.”
“Quite right,” agreed his mother, chuckling to herself at the look on her son’s face. She was sure, had Mary been a man, there would have been a scuffle, for she had seen that look on several occasions before he and one of his cousins had engaged in a wrestling match.
Rycroft drew in a deep breath and released it as Georgiana took his arm. She looked up at him with a brow raised and a scolding look. “Do not,” he said.
“Do not what?” She fluttered her lashes and smiled sweetly.
“You know very well
, but since I must clarify, do not chide me. I know I have insulted her once again and must apologize, although I doubt she will forgive me.”
Georgiana hugged his arm tightly. “She will, if you are sincere. Miss Mary is quite agreeable and sweet.”
Rycroft gave a soft short burst of laughter, unable to believe Georgiana’s description of Mary. He had only seen her as scolding and scowling, but, he admitted to himself, he had not precisely given her reason to treat him well. He had, after all, said she was too studious in appearance and too serious to be of interest to him. He had not meant for the words to be a disparagement of her. He had been, in fact, disparaging himself. Although he was not precisely a slow learner, he had always been compared to his excessively diligent cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and so the tease was meant to give Darcy a reason to chuckle at his cousin’s expense. However, it had not gone as planned. Mary had heard his comment and taken offense, which in turn earned him a slight scolding from her sister, Elizabeth, and a lecture disguised as a story from Darcy. And for the last week and two days, he had done his best to mind his words and actions. He had even attempted to engage Mary in cordial conversation but to no avail. Although, she had readily accepted his apology, she seemed determined to avoid him whenever possible, and when that was not within the realm of possibilities, she often found opportunity to correct him for some small blunder. She really was a most frustrating young lady, and now he was to be in her company for the entirety of the season as her escort. He sighed. Perhaps his mother would magically transform the scolding and serious Miss Bennet into something more agreeable. If it were up to him, he would start by lightening the colours she wore and loosening the knot of hair on her head. It really did make her look entirely too studious and old, or at least older than he suspected she was.
He sighed once more as he saw Miss Bingley joining her brother in the hall to say their farewells. He had hoped that his mother’s plan to leave quite early would have given him the opportunity to leave without speaking to Bingley’s younger sister. She was just the sort of lady he tried to avoid — both cunning and simpering at the same time. He shook his head. It was beyond his understanding how any gentleman could be so easily taken in by the flutter of eyes and the strategic display of assets. Did they not realize that there needed to be a woman of substance behind the pretty face and tempting figure? That was not to say he had not enjoyed more than one tempting figure in his seasons. The thought brought a smile to his lips and kept him from rolling his eyes at Caroline Bingley’s profusion of pleasantries to his mother. It did not escape his notice nor, he suspected, that of his mother, that she kept peeking in his direction to see if he was noticing the care she was paying to his mother. She was not the first lady to use such tactics. Perhaps if the good wishes and praise were sincere, it would have warmed his heart instead of causing him to wish to be elsewhere. He turned his eyes to where Bingley and Mary were speaking quietly.
“Mr. Bingley,” Mary was saying, “should my father — ”
“I will send word to Darcy and Rycroft immediately if there is any danger,” said Bingley as he smiled and grasped Mary’s hand, the one that was not dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief.
She nodded her head and her lips trembled slightly. “Thank you. I would not leave him, but he insisted. He kept saying he wished for me to go seek my happiness.”
Bingley nodded and his face took on a serious expression, one which Rycroft had only seen on a few occasions. “He wishes to see his family secure. My father was the same when he became ill.”
Mary nodded once again. “I know. He is thinking of when — ” The handkerchief was once again near her eyes, and instead of continuing, she shrugged.
Bingley’s expression returned to his engaging smile. “He is thinking if, not when. We must always hope.”
Mary murmured another thank you and a final goodbye before moving toward the door.
“You will take care of her, will you not, Rycroft?” Bingley said as he watched Mary standing at the door waiting for the rest.
“No need to fear. My mother will have her well in hand, my friend.”
Bingley drew Rycroft away from Georgiana and Caroline. “Lady Sophia will be able to help her with most things, but you have seen the books and heard the talk in clubs. I would hate to see her put upon by some schemer.”
Rycroft nodded. He knew well of schemers, for he had been one at one time. “I have already been informed that it is my duty to escort my mother and Miss Mary to whatever events my mother chooses this season.”
“Good,” said Bingley. “I know Darcy will do his best to be of service to her, but …”
Rycroft laughed. “Yes, he will likely be too occupied with his new wife to be present at many of his clubs.”
Bingley smiled knowingly. “As will I, if things go well.”
“So I shall be completely alone in my misery this season?”
“No, I shall still have to escort my sister, unless you would care to take her on as well?” Bingley laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.
Rycroft narrowed his eyes. “I do not have the patience of my cousin.” He was unsure how Darcy had endured the fawning of Bingley’s sister for all these years. She had been very persistent in making her desire to marry him known. He did his best to limit his exposure to the lady, insisting on meeting with Bingley only at a club or Rycroft Place.
Bingley nodded. “I have told her she has no hope, but she will not listen.”
Rycroft sighed and rolled his eyes as Caroline came to where her brother was standing.
“Lord Rycroft,” she began extending a hand to him.
He took it briefly and mumbled a hasty thank you and farewell before turning once again toward Bingley. “You will come around when you return to town, will you not?”
Bingley bit back a smile at the displeased look on Caroline’s face.”Certainly.”
“Very good.” He placed his hat on his head and gave a bow of his head to both Bingley and Caroline before walking to the door where he offered Mary his arm.
Mary lifted a brow, and he gave her his best pleading look to which she rolled her eyes and placed her hand on his arm. “I am sorry,” he whispered as they walked down the steps to the carriage.
She nodded what he hoped was an acceptance of his apology. He made to hand her into the carriage, but she shook her head. “Your mother should be first.”
He inclined his head. “Of course.” He turned to his mother and then to Georgiana and finally to Mary before climbing into the carriage to take his place next to his mother. He leaned his head against the back of the carriage as it began to roll down the drive. Georgiana took out a small book and a pencil and began to draw. His mother took out a book and opened it to read. Mary also pulled out a book, but only held it on her lap under her hand which still held her handkerchief as she looked out the window. He saw her dab at her eyes and considered for the first time how difficult this must be for her. She must have noticed his observation, for her cheeks coloured slightly.
“I may be an oaf,” he said, which caused her to smile quickly, “but I do understand the difficulty of not knowing…” his voice trailed off as he remembered having to return to school for his final term while his father was ill. He had been fortunate to have been able to return and spend time with him to learn of the responsibilities of the title. And then he had spent the next three years attempting to hide from the weight of that responsibility. He had tended to all the business involved, but he had spent an equal or greater amount of energy trying to lift the weight of the responsibilities by pursuing pleasure, a pursuit that had lead to his seclusion at his estate for the past six months while the gossip swirled and finally died.
Mary watched the emotions cross his face in the few moments of silence that followed and wondered at the cause for them. Perhaps he did possess a depth of thought. She smiled when he gave her a small shrug and a half smile. “Perhaps you are not a complete oaf,” she said as she opened her book.
He laughed softly to himself. It was, he figured, the closest he was getting to a statement of forgiveness.
He tucked his blanket more securely around his legs, and then, tipping his hat to cover his eyes, he leaned his head against the back of the carriage and prepared to hasten the journey by drifting off to sleep.
Chapter 2
Mary sighed and flipped another page in Mrs. Havelston’s book of patterns. “They are all lovely. I do not know what to choose.” Her Aunt Gardiner had delivered the book of patterns to her at Rycroft Place. Mrs. Havelston did not lend her book to everyone, but Mr. Gardiner was a supplier of some very fine materials, and since he referred several customers to her, including his nieces, she was willing to lend the book to Mrs. Gardiner for an evening when needed.
“Surely, it cannot be so difficult.” Rycroft took the book from Mary and placed it on the table where he had been playing cards with his mother while Georgiana and Mary had been looking at patterns. “What fabrics do you have?” Mary lay the samples on the table. “Your uncle has a good eye. These will all go quite nicely with your complexion, I dare say.” He flipped through the book and placed a fabric sample between the pages when he found what he thought was an appropriate pattern. “How many patterns are you to pick for this order? Six was it?” He peered up from the page at her. “Very good,” he said, turning his eyes back to the book when she nodded. “You will need gowns for driving, balls, and calls. You have a few acceptable day dresses now, do you not?” Again he peered up at her. Mary bit back a smile as she nodded. She had not seen another gentleman so interested in ladies’ fashion besides her uncle, although, she suspected their interest was for very different reasons.
“There.” He closed the book. “Now, might we have one more hand before we retire for the night?” He picked up the cards and began shuffling them. “Oh!” He lay the cards down and picked up the book again. “Do you ride?”