With deepest regard and love to you both,
George, alias Dr. Darcy for you, Elizabeth
Darcy was grinning as he folded the letter. Glancing into his wife's dreamy face, he reached to brush the backs of his fingers over a velvet cheek. “Do not fear, love. I am positive our baby shall be the loveliest on the face of the earth.”
Lizzy laughed, turning to kiss his knuckles. “Yes, surely. However, I was lost in the delicious vision of a harried Mrs. Smyth.” She sighed deeply, an evil twinkle in her eyes.
Darcy assumed a stern face, although his eyes twinkled as well. “How unbecoming of you, Elizabeth Darcy. I am aghast.”
Lizzy merely laughed further while Darcy rose to deposit the letter onto his desk. They sat in his study, the late afternoon August sun blazing through the open windows. No breeze was forthcoming and had not been for days upon days, therefore the room was stifling. Lizzy wore the thinnest dress she could find, refusing a petticoat thicker than the sheer muslin one, which meant that her legs did show slightly, but she was tolerably cool. She observed her husband, dressed to the nines although in a light kerseymere, and wondered for the thousandth time how he could appear so comfortable. Not even a sheen of sweat along his brow. Of course, Darcy was perpetually collected and calm.
“I certainly enjoyed your uncle's version of events over Miss de Bourgh's,” Lizzy said. “Although the emotion in her letter was so touching.”
“Yes,” Darcy replied from his desk chair where he was rifling through a stack of folded parchment envelopes, “and, if you recall, my dearest, she expressed her wish to forgo the long courtship and hasten to the marriage part.”
“She did not!”
“I beg to differ. Ah! Here it is.” He fluttered the pages with a flourish, smirking at his wife, and then clearing his throat as if preparing to address Parliament. “She writes, and I quote, 'In the end Mother did consent to allow Dr. Penaflor the right to court me. Oh William! I cannot express my happiness. I must thank you for encouraging me to follow my heart and to trust. I have no doubts regarding my feelings toward Dr. Penaflor and know he feels as strongly. Love at nearly first sight! I never anticipated this happening to me. Honestly I had relinquished all hope of finding love and cannot repress the trepidation that I shall wake to discover it is all a dream. I appreciate Dr. Penaflor's design to court me properly and comprehend it derives from his esteem; however, I must confess a desire to hasten time. Is this selfish of me, William? My life has altered drastically these past three months, and my joy is nearly complete. Suddenly my wildest wishes are within my grasp, and I am aware that the natural womanly response is to revel in the season of wooing and flirtation. Nonetheless, my greatest urge is to be married to sweet Raul and begin our life together.'”
Lizzy assumed a haughty pout in the face of Darcy's smug grin. “Very well, Mr. Darcy. I shall admit my error; however, I detect only the yearning to be bonded in matrimony and no allusion to 'fun' as you so called it.”
“The fun is implied, love.”
Lizzy laughed and shook her head, turning to another letter waiting on the table. “Shall I read Papa's letter aloud?”
“It is addressed to you, Elizabeth. You can share with me later if you wish as I must currently attend to this boring albeit necessary business packet from Mr. Daniels.”
Thereafter, in quiet harmony they concentrated on their individual undertakings while ever with an unconscious awareness of the other's presence.
My dearest Lizzy,
My beloved daughter, why do you insist on exponentially whitening my hair even further? When you were two years of age, you toddled outside and narrowly avoided falling into the duck pond, saved by Mr. Hill, who happened to be walking by. From that day onward, my precocious second daughter, I awaited the day when some brave man would assume caretaking duties, allotting me the opportunity to breathe freely. Overall I judge Mr. Darcy has adequately fulfilled the role, but armed bandits? Heavens, child!
Naturally I maintained my equilibrium, trusting in your assurance that you and the babe are well. Your mother, however, dissolved into nervous prostration, taking to her bed in a near swoon. Kitty attended to her with a diligence that surprised me. I confess to retreating to my study, having divined ages ago that my presence is in no way placating. Suffer no guilt, my dear girl, as you know your mother fairly wallows in her misery. Dear Jane was secretly relieved, as your trauma diverted her mother's flustering over their relocation.
Luckily, fortune smiled on us all as joyous news was forthcoming. I will proceed in the hope that the latest Bennet blessing is revealed by me. Three days after receiving your missive, your mother yet abed, I was visited by Mr. Joshua Daniels. As you likely have already postulated, he rode to Hertfordshire to obtain permission to wed our Mary. Naturally I deemed it my right and duty as father of the intended to toy with him a bit, make him sweat, as they say. I daresay he reacted with far greater amusement than either Mr. Bingley or Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley was simply too befuddled to even ask my permission for Jane's hand, an oversight I reluctantly judged merciful in light of the general mayhem of that day. Mr. Darcy, of course, captured me utterly unaware. My usually rapid mental faculties were dulled by surprise and the ungodly hour of the day. If I did not know the truth of the situation, I would hazard to guess he planned it that way! Besides, he was so disarmingly charming and pathetic that I could not muster the heart to trifle with his frayed emotions. Well, not too much anyway.
Mr. Daniels, on the other hand, was an expectation. Via correspondence from your Uncle Gardiner, I knew the courtship was progressing at a stately pace so rightly figured it was merely a matter of time. I did not anticipate his arrival on that particular day, but was prepared for the eventuality. In the end, of course, I gave my blessing as I fully intended to do all along. He is a delightful young man and I have no doubts will care for our Mary. By the way, thank your husband for his personal endorsement of and information about the young solicitor. Having not had the luxury of acquainting ourselves with him to any great degree, your mother and I are eased by Mr. Darcy's recommendation. Of course, Edward and Violet have become quite familiar and praise him glowingly. Mary is prosaic in her commentary, but there is an underlying emotion that belies her conservative pose. All in all, we are delighted with her choice.
I do not know when they plan to wed, nor where. I chose not to question Mr. Daniels on the particulars as I had no desire to have the boy faint in my study! London would be my guess, although Mary is very fond of our vicar and the Meryton Chapel. I have not yet heard from Mary as all this transpired just yesterday. So, it has been an eventful two weeks between the Bingleys' news, your adventure, and Mary's engagement. I almost, for once, pity your mother's theatrically fraught nerves. Now, luckily for us all, she has rebounded and nearly has the wedding all planned. Or at least I am assuming so as that is all she speaks of. I, as I can only confess to you, my dear Lizzy, ignore her most awfully.
Well, there you have it! Life at Longbourn treads on with the usual undulating waves consisting of valleys of monotony and peaks of drama. I have resigned myself to Jane's departure with equanimity. In truth I have long suspected they would move and am thrilled for them. We do look forward to visiting, if you will have us, at some point this winter. I must see if the Pemberley library is all I have been led to believe it is, and we wish to tour Hasberry and Pemberley. Of course, the premiere draw will be my first grandchild. Yes, Lizzy, even beyond the library!
Please take care of yourself, my darling daughter. Dr. Darcy said your pregnancy is proceeding without mishap, and as he appears determined to attend the birth, I am greatly comforted. Nonetheless, I know you, Lizzy! Do not be foolish. Rest and listen to your husband, who I know has far greater sense and wisdom than you.
With all my love,
Papa
Darcy had diligently applied himself to Mr. Daniels's correspondence, but was fully aware of his wife's constant chuckles. Therefore, he was not the slightest bit surprised
when she jumped out of her seat and crossed to his desk.
“You must read this, William!”
He took the proffered letter and sat back with a contented sigh, his father-in-law's writing always amusing. Lizzy rang for refreshments, it having been over two hours since lunch and the baby demanded nourishment. She stood by the window, rubbing her belly while their son somersaulted, and watched Darcy's face as he read.
He smiled, laughed, and grunted precisely as she knew he would during certain sentences, adding an occasional comment. “Brave am I? Yes, that is true… Poor Mr. Daniels!… Pathetic? Well, I suppose so… 'Not too much' he says! The man tortured and terrified me… Hmmm… You are welcome, Mr. Bennet… There shall be the test, my love. I will have you and our son stand across from the library door and see where he goes first… Ha! 'Greater sense and wisdom.' From the mouth of your father. Surely you cannot argue with that?” He grinned up at his wife, who ignored the query.
Mary's correspondence arrived three days later. Lizzy sat on the terrace, fanning herself and praying for a breeze, no matter how faint. Darcy was at the stables. On occasion Lizzy would accompany him for a spell, but today he planned to assist with breaking a horse, and Lizzy absolutely refused to watch. The process terrified her and she fretted all day while he was at the endeavor. Darcy knew her fears and generally evaded elaborating on his planned activities, but if she pointedly inquired, he would not lie. He deplored worrying her but could not resist the lure of the corral. Lizzy recognized his love for the work so attempted to hide her anxiety and disapproval, learning it best to not ask his agenda for the day.
Therefore, it was painfully obvious when he was to train! If Darcy's docket included riding about the farms, or visiting a fishery or mill, or checking on the breeding proceedings, he was open in sharing, giving her a complete rundown of his time so she would know precisely where he was and when he expected to return. If, on the other hand, he remained mum or became vague, she knew it meant a day of vigorous and dangerous exercise with a wild horse.
Such had been the case this morning. He woke her early, the sun barely illuminating the room. Lizzy groaned and vainly attempted to ignore the sweet kisses being rained along her shoulder and the insistent hands roaming freely. Her husband, however, was in a mood and, as was generally the case, finagled matters to arrive at the outcome he wanted. Afterwards, just as a blissfully content and tingly Lizzy was drifting back into sleep, she asked groggily, “What are your plans for the day? Are you staying with me or going for a ride?”
She could tell instantly by the silence and slight stiffening of his body that the news was unfavorable. Darcy was a terrible liar and even after all this time had yet to arrive at a plausible alibi. “I shall be riding, yes, then I… have business with Mr. Thurber and… um, well, boring… issues to attend to, and… I do not know when I shall return, but certainly for dinner, my love, so do not worry. I love you.”
Now, staring at the rippling water of the lake, Lizzy sighed deeply and gave up on her prayers for a cooling wind. A sudden burst of restlessness consumed her and, grabbing her bonnet, she rose to her feet, deciding that a walk among the trees was essential. She pivoted to the door, nearly colliding with the maid.
“Forgive me, madam. I was bringing these to you.” She held out two envelopes. “The post just arrived.”
“Thank you, Abigail. Could you please inform Mrs. Reynolds that I will be walking the north trail to the rock pond?”
The trail leading to the pond skirted the edge of the forest. The canopy of leaves coupled with the perpetually damp loam of the floor created a significantly cooler atmosphere. Lizzy immediately perked up under the shade, rejuvenated to the point of adequately relinquishing the unrelenting angst over Darcy's employment. Sitting on one of the artistically arranged and sheltered rock benches beside the pond's rim, Lizzy removed her shoes and commenced reading.
Dear Lizzy,
I am sincerely praying that my news will reach your ears via my pen rather than Papa's. Although, in the end it matters naught as long as you are made aware of a fabulous occurrence. For cert it shall be no great marvel to you as I have spoken of little else in each letter I have sent. Yes, dear sister, naturally I speak of me and Mr. Daniels. He has proposed! I feel as if I should insert the caveat “finally” although in truth our courtship has advanced speedily. Odd, is it not, how when the correct mate appears it simply fits? I imagine it must have been the same with you and Mr. Darcy as your relationship transpired in short order. Of course, you know I tend to not be gushy or emotional by nature, but Mr. Daniels does elicit sensations of tenderness and whimsy unfamiliar in me. Now I comprehend at least some of the ridiculous expressions you would share with Mr. Darcy. Hopefully we are not as nonsensical. Anyway, I should describe the proposal as all my new women friends are consistently inquiring, so I have deduced it is of vital interest to others.
I have ascertained that Mr. Daniels, albeit sensible and serious, does have a romantic disposition and can be mildly impatient. Therefore, it was of no great surprise that he rode off to Hertfordshire, unbeknownst to me, and asked Papa for my hand. Is that not sweet? Apparently Papa teased him a bit but eventually gave his consent. That evening, just two days ago now, Mr. Daniels arrived for dinner, having conspired with Aunt and Uncle to secure a span of time alone with me. I was momentarily shocked when first Aunt left the room, followed ten minutes later by Uncle, both mumbling something vague in excuse. Naturally I am not totally dull and presumed his intent before he dropped to his knee. Oh, Lizzy, it was so very cute! Mr. Daniels, if you recall, is quite bashful in general; however, we have reached a place of relative ease with each other. So, to see him blushing and stammering was fairly amusing. I maintained my calm and waited in serene silence until he finally (and here the word applies) blurted out the actual words, “Will you marry me?”
Oh the urge to laugh! However, I did not. Despite the humor of the situation I was, and am, deeply moved and exceedingly content. I said yes, obviously, and tried to get him off his knee, but he stubbornly remained until the ring was secure on my finger. Now it is official. His family is delighted. They, I say with a slight blush, adore me. I truly care for them as well. We have yet to decide the wedding details. I wanted to write you as soon as possible. Lizzy, as generally unromantic and stoic as I am, I want you to know how blissful I am. Also, I want to thank you and Mr. Darcy most profoundly. The sequence of events that led Mr. Daniels to my side is all because of you two. I shall be eternally grateful, and I know Mr. Daniels feels the same. He wishes to thank Mr. Darcy as well and asked me to convey his heartfelt gratitude, as it would be inappropriate, his words, to personally write to a client.
One point we are mutually firm on is dating the wedding for after your baby's birth as we insist on the presence of you and Mr. Darcy. Probably mid to late February if this seems feasible for you? We need the time to plan as Mr. Daniels intends to purchase a house for us and I wish to spend a few more months in Hertfordshire. I will keep you informed. I hope all is well with you and the baby. Please take care, Lizzy. Give my sincerest regards to Mr. Darcy. I know Georgiana is traveling so have written to her via Pemberley. Feel free to share my news if you write to her prior to her return. I love you, Lizzy.
God Bless,
Mary
Lizzy reread the letter several times. Partly this was due to her overwhelming joy in her sister's good fortune. Additionally it was due to a lack of enthusiasm toward reading the second letter.
It was from Lydia.
Lydia had written to Lizzy exactly four times, including this one, since riding off with Mr. Wickham to Newcastle nearly one year ago. Lizzy had written a dozen times, considered it her duty to do so, but in all honesty did not exalt in her sister's responses. Aside from the fact that she and her flighty youngest sister had never been tremendously akin, there was the uncomfortable reality of Lydia's marriage and current living situation that drove a deeper wedge between them. Lydia's letters were typical of her person
ality: self-centered, erratic, and unintelligent. Top that with incessant references to “my dear Wickham” and Lizzy was nauseous and headachy each time.
To make matters worse, it was the only area of her life she did not share with Darcy. He knew that she wrote to Lydia and was aware that she received the occasional reply; however, he never asked for details. He wished no ill upon Lydia in her marriage. Rather he harbored extreme guilt over the arrangement, knowing it was his involvement that shackled her to Wickham, even though there was no alternative as she had flatly refused to leave her “sweet Wickham's” side.
Darcy told Lizzy, much later, that his original plan was to use all the considerable means at his disposal to hush the scandal and restore Lydia to her family. Wickham was perfectly amenable to taking the money Darcy offered and disappearing, but Lydia refused to leave. He could not very well drag her away kicking and screaming, although it had crossed his mind, but then the scandal would be far more difficult to smother.
Furthermore, it had not taken Wickham long after his initial shock at seeing Darcy materialize with Lydia's Uncle Gardiner to realize Darcy's involvement in the situation was attributed to an attachment to Lizzy Bennet. The two men had known each other for too many years. Wickham uncannily deciphered the puzzle no matter how bland and uncommunicative Darcy attempted to be. Therefore Darcy had been forced to increase the sum offered Wickham in order to secure him marrying her, a step Wickham patently had no previous intention of taking. Even then, Darcy had worried that he would not follow through while simultaneously praying that he would run away and save Lydia the sad fate of being his wife.
My Dearest Mr. Darcy Page 6