Love Unsought

by Kay Bea

  “We would be happy to accept, Mr Darcy. Who, after all, could refuse the wonders of Pemberley?” Mr Gardiner laughed as he answered.

  “I believe there are a few who would find it less than charming, Mr Gardiner,” Darcy said.

  “Perhaps,” said Elizabeth with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “it is only those who have been mistaken in their first impressions.”

  “I say, Darcy,” Bingley injected, “I was telling Miss Bennet about your fine garden here. What say you to a tour of the house and grounds after dinner?”

  “We recently had some work completed in the courtyard. I believe you will be impressed with the new fountain, Bingley. Perhaps we may begin from here in the dining room and finish there.”

  When dinner was ended, the party followed Darcy through the house. Elizabeth was delighted to discover that her first impressions of the house carried through all the principal rooms. She tried not to dwell on how her regard for the master may have influenced her preference for the home. Though she told herself not to look on the rooms as their future mistress, she found she could not do otherwise. In every room, she found herself imagining what it would be like to share such a place with Mr Darcy. Would they read together by that fire? Would she do her needlework in this chair while Miss Darcy played and Mr Darcy wrote a letter?

  Walking through his home on his arm caused her to realise, as nothing else had, exactly what she had lost when she turned him away in Kent. Here she saw her life as it might have been: another sister to cherish, family, friends, entertainments, and, at the centre of it all, a husband who loved and respected her. Nowhere was this picture more vibrant in her mind than in the library. Elizabeth gasped as they entered the room.

  “I dare say even you could not despair of reading materials in such a place, Lizzy,” teased Mrs Gardiner.

  “I do not believe I have ever seen such a collection, sir,” Elizabeth said.

  “It is the work of many generations of Darcys, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy began, before being interrupted.

  “Oh! You must see the library at Pemberley, for this one is small in comparison!” Miss Darcy spoke with genuine enthusiasm.

  “I can see you truly love your home, Miss Darcy. Perhaps you might tell me of your favourite part of this library? I am afraid I shall otherwise go distracted with thoughts of the magnificence of Pemberley.”

  Miss Darcy was quick to agree and began to point out her favourite books and to tell where she best liked to sit in summer and winter to read. Elizabeth reflected once again how pleasant it would be to live every day with the Darcy siblings.

  Miss Darcy asked, “Shall we go to the garden next?”

  Mrs Gardiner agreed. “I have heard much of the gardens in Mayfair, but this is the first opportunity I have had to tour one.”

  “This way, if you please.” Darcy gestured broadly to the door and indicated that Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam could lead the way. Elizabeth and her family could not contain their expressions of pleasure on seeing the splendour of the garden by torchlight. Flames danced in their posts, casting a soft glow on the pathway and surrounding plants.

  “It is different at night.The torches lend it an almost magical quality,” said Darcy. “Though traditional in much of its design, our gardener was also inspired by old sketches of gardens on the continent. There the grounds are designed to appeal to all the senses. There are fruit trees to taste, running water to hear, fragrant plants to smell, stone that is cool to the touch and, of course, there is an abundance of beauty to be seen.” There was no conceit in his voice, only the pride of accomplishment and a genuine desire to share his knowledge and sense of wonder.

  “I have heard of such places, but I had never thought to see their like in London,” replied Mrs Gardiner.

  “I would not dare to boast they are anything so grand as their inspiration, but I believe you will find them to your liking.”

  Elizabeth soon noticed Mr Bingley and her sister wander away from the group as the party toured the garden. She was relieved when Darcy chose that moment to expertly guide the rest of the party to a new planting of Nottingham Catchfly. “Do you know,” he asked, “these bloom for only three nights?” Aunt Gardiner and Elizabeth exclaimed over the delicate pink and white blossoms while Uncle Gardiner engaged Darcy in a discussion regarding the unusual nature of the plant. Elizabeth caught Darcy’s eye and was caught by the warmth she saw there.

  “These flowers would be a perfect addition to your garden at Gracechurch Street, do you not agree, Aunt?” inquired Elizabeth.

  “I do. But I have no idea where I should acquire the plants.”

  “Perhaps Mr Darcy could be of assistance? Surely he knows from whence came the plants in his own garden?” Elizabeth said with a slight laugh.

  Mrs Gardiner joined in the joke at her own expense. “Perhaps he might.”

  A few minutes later, Jane and Mr Bingley rejoined their friends, and if anyone noticed their happy, flushed faces, they chose not to comment. Instead, the party retired to the music room where Elizabeth and Miss Darcy were prevailed upon to perform a duet, and a few more conversations were had before those not residing at Darcy House were forced by the lateness of the hour to take their leave.

  Once Jane and Elizabeth attained the privacy of their room, Jane could no longer contain her news and Elizabeth was equally anxious eager to hear it. “Engaged! Has there ever been another creature as happy? ’Tis too much, by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! Why is not everybody as happy?”

  Elizabeth’s congratulations were warmly received, and there was no kind word that could be expressed that did not bring Jane greater joy. “It is good you have already written my father of Mr Bingley’s renewed attentions. When will he go to Longbourn?”

  “On the morrow, and there he shall remain to await our return. Lizzy, he loves me! He has always loved me! My dear sister, can one die from happiness?” Jane spun about the room as she spoke.

  Elizabeth laughed as her sister’s joy wrapped around her in an embrace of pure light. “Not you. Not you. For you are goodness itself, deserving more happiness than any other of my acquaintance.” She embraced Jane, and the sisters lay in bed whispering and giggling until the early hours of the morning.

  Charles appeared rapturous when he returned to his townhouse in Grosvenor Square that evening. His sister observed his ebullience a moment before saying, “How kind of you to return home. I had begun to think I would not see you at all before I go to visit our dear aunt.”

  Caroline’s tone belied her words, but his happiness appeared unharmed.

  “I have not forgotten your travel arrangements, Sister, having made them myself.” He responded with greater calm than she had anticipated.

  “I cannot imagine what has kept you out so late. Surely you have not been at the Gardiner residence this whole time?”

  “No, Caroline, I spent the evening at Darcy House.” He paused before continuing. “Darcy had a small party for dinner. I was fortunate to be included.”

  “Why did you not tell me? Surely your sisters were included in the invitation. Dear Georgiana must have been at such a loss without another lady present to guide her.”

  “Miss Darcy was not without assistance. The Miss Bennets and their aunt were in attendance as well.”

  Caroline winced, but feared to say too much, lest her exile to Scarborough be extended. “How singular.”

  “You are to wish me joy, Caroline.” Bile rose in Caroline’s throat as her brother spoke. “Miss Bennet has consented to be my wife. I go to Longbourn to seek her father’s approval tomorrow, and I shall remain in Hertfordshire until the wedding.”

  “What? Charles, do be serious!”

  “I assure you I am serious. Jane is to be my wife. After the way you have behaved towards her, I cannot think why either of us would welcome you to our home. You should look to the society of Scarborough for a husband.”

  “I only wanted what was best for you. Surely you can see that? Jane Benne
t is a sweet girl, but she brings nothing to you. If we are to continue to find our place in society, you cannot marry some pretty-faced nobody from the wilds of Hertfordshire!”

  “Caroline! I will not hear anything further against my future wife or her family. I am the son of a tradesman. She is a gentleman’s daughter. In marrying Jane, I shall be marrying above my station regardless of our disparate financial situations. Use your time with our aunt to reconcile yourself to this match, Caroline, and perhaps your exile will not be permanent.” With that, her brother strode from the room.

  The following day, the Bennet sisters and Miss Darcy were to be found browsing the shops on Bond Street. Jane and Elizabeth were looking for presents to take home to their sisters and parents, though Elizabeth teased that nothing they could purchase would compare to the gift of Jane’s engagement. Elizabeth enlisted Miss Darcy’s aid in selecting new music for Mary and in turn assisted Miss Darcy in selecting a gift for the younger girl’s uncle. Music for Mary was followed by books for Mr Bennet from his daughters and for Darcy from his sister. There were ribbons and lace for Lydia and drawing supplies for Kitty who had recently taken up the art. The morning passed in easy companionship until the ladies stopped to purchase gloves for Mrs Bennet.

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, we meet again.” The perfectly cool civility of Lady Winslow’s voice matched her icy stare.

  Elizabeth made a shallow curtsey in acknowledgement. “Lady Winslow.” Elizabeth tried to conceal her trepidation when she spoke and hoped she managed to arrange her features into an expression of placid disinterest.

  “I had not thought to see you here.”

  Elizabeth smiled sweetly and replied, “We never miss the opportunity to visit the area when we are in town. You have found us in a favourite shop.”

  “I am pleased for you,” Lady Winslow said in a tone that indicated she was anything but. “I have dearly wished to speak with you and am glad for the opportunity.”

  Elizabeth arched a brow at this sentiment. “Forgive me, my lady, but given our brief acquaintance, I cannot imagine why you would wish for such an opportunity nor what we could possibly have to say to one another.”

  The lady paused as if considering her response. “I wish to offer you a bit of…friendly advice.”

  “Surely, you do not wish to advise me in choosing a gift for my mother?”

  “I am certain I could never presume to know the tastes of a country gentleman’s wife. However, I do have some information you might be interested in regarding a certain mutual acquaintance of ours. Under these circumstances I feel I must protect an innocent woman.”

  Elizabeth merely raised her brow.

  “Do not be missish, Miss Bennet. I mean to protect you.”

  “I thank you for your kindness, but I have no need of your protection.”

  “That is because you do not know Fitzwilliam Darcy as I do!”

  Elizabeth’s discomfort grew in proportion to the volume of Lady Winslow’s voice. “I am certain my knowledge of Mr Darcy is vastly different from your own.”

  “Fitzwilliam Darcy is no gentleman. We were once engaged.”

  Elizabeth fought to keep her countenance at this news.

  “I see you are shocked. I dare say he has not mentioned it. He was my first love, and we were to be married. Then, before his father passed, he betrayed me in the worst possible way. He told me he could not be expected to make do with only one woman when there were so many willing…well, you understand.”

  Lady Winslow managed a broken voice and even a few tears as she continued, “I was humiliated and betrayed. I would not wish for you to suffer as I did, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth did not realise Miss Darcy had wandered nearby until she heard the younger girl gasp behind her. Lady Winslow heard the sound as well and smirked. “Oh, is that Miss Darcy? I had not seen her before. I thought you were alone.”

  Elizabeth determined to end the conversation. “Lady Winslow, I thank you for your concern. I fear we have exhausted ourselves today.” With that, Elizabeth turned to move Miss Darcy and Jane quickly to the door.

  Having achieved her purpose, Arabella departed the shop as well. She boarded her carriage and considered her past. She had never really forgiven Darcy for abandoning her. Arabella’s father had discovered her secret—that she had been with child—and he would not hear of a union with the child’s father. She had always known he would not approve of her beloved George. A steward’s son and an earl’s daughter could be wed only in novels. George Wickham was the only reason she had ever thought to marry Darcy. A marriage to Fitzwilliam Darcy would have secured both George’s future and her own. But all of that was ruined when she had been careless in her father’s London garden and Darcy refused to marry her. Despite her pleas to marry her beloved George, she was forced to marry a man of her father’s choosing within a fortnight of the confrontation.

  The current Lord Winslow, her husband, was then the second of three sons, and not expected to inherit his father’s estate or title. He was therefore willing to accept her and her unborn child along with her substantial dowry. He was not a cruel man, and was content for each of them to pursue their own interests. He asked only that she be discreet. However, his home was too distant from London to allow her regular contact with her lover. The babe had not survived, and her husband did not visit her chambers to give her another. Even his ascension to the title had not brought on a change. He was content to allow his younger brother’s son to inherit the title. The years since she took her vows had left Lady Arabella bitter and resentful. She was not remorseful for the actions that led to her present circumstance. Forced to give up her lover and having lost the illustrious Fitzwilliam Darcy, Arabella could not be happy knowing there was something she had been denied. Her reflections carried her to Grosvenor Square. She was determined to call on her new acquaintance, Miss Bingley, and hoped the lady would prove a useful source of information.

  From the moment she was announced, Caroline Bingley simpered and blandished. Arabella thought it a thing of beauty when she subtly moved the conversation to the subject of Mr Darcy and Miss Bennet, and her efforts were quickly rewarded. Miss Bingley abused the Bennet family in great detail. By the end of their visit, the ladies had agreed to write whilst Miss Bingley was away.

  From the Bingley townhouse on Grosvenor Square, Arabella travelled to her own home. His Lordship was away, and she had taken the opportunity to invite an old friend. He was waiting in her private sitting room when she arrived.

  “George!”

  The man in regimentals stood and swept her into his arms. “My love! I am glad you are finally returned. I had begun to fear I would have to leave without seeing you.” He kissed her soundly and pulled her to sit with him.

  Several minutes later, she told him of the events both at the theatre and on Bond Street.

  George said, “I was unaware Miss Bennet and Darcy had grown close. I could see he admired her in Hertfordshire, but when I last spoke with her, I felt certain she would nurture an enduring hatred for him.”

  “She is the one you told me of then? The little miss you poisoned against him?” George nodded, and Arabella continued. “What I witnessed between them did not speak of hate. I dare say they looked more content than I could like.”

  “I had hoped he would never know such happiness.”

  Arabella laid her head against his chest. “I want her ruined. I want them both ruined. I care not how, but I want her family brought down so thoroughly that he could never consider an association.”

  He kissed the top of her head and promised it would be so. “Have I told you the regiment is for Brighton? Her youngest sister, Miss Lydia Bennet, is a particular friend of my colonel’s young wife…”

  After the events on Bond Street, the Bennet sisters and Miss Darcy departed for Darcy House. Jane sat on one side of the carriage while Elizabeth sat with a comforting arm around Miss Darcy on the other. It was no easy feat for Elizabeth to whisper comforting nothings to Mi
ss Darcy while struggling to reconcile the intelligence of Lady Winslow with her own opinions of Mr Darcy. She did not wish to again give credence to the words of someone who divulged personal information on short acquaintance, but she could not imagine any reason for the lady to disclose information so potentially damaging to her own reputation. Lady Winslow’s words repeated in her mind: “Fitzwilliam Darcy is no gentleman.” Had not Elizabeth herself recently held those same sentiments? She longed to speak to the gentleman himself.

  “Lizzy, what has happened? Who was that woman? What did she say?” Jane reached across to grasp her sister’s hand.

  “She is Lady Winslow. We were introduced at the theatre. As to her information, I cannot speak of it. It does not bear repetition. I am only sorry it was spoken in so public a place and in front of Miss Darcy as well.”

  “Oh, Miss Elizabeth, please say it is not true. Please say my brother is not a-a rake!” The last word carried so much anguish, Elizabeth thought Miss Darcy would collapse if she were not already seated.

  “Hush, now, all will be well.” Elizabeth wanted to say the lady’s words could not be true, but she could not banish the idea they might be.

  “Why ever would a lady, particularly one of her station, utter such scandalous accusations for all and sundry to overhear? I suppose it is no coincidence she did not approach you until she was assured we were alone in the shop.” Jane was as shocked as could be imagined at the implication of Miss Darcy’s words.

  “I think you are correct. For otherwise the lady’s own reputation would be at risk. Though the events she spoke of must be long past, I cannot imagine the world at large would be so forgiving were the situation made public. A scandal always reflects poorly on the lady no matter if she was truly at fault. Whatever her motives, I have already well learnt not to place much value on the word of someone with whom we are so little acquainted. I suppose I might ask Mr Darcy for his account, but it does not seem necessary given my understanding of his character. Still, he must be made aware of the charges. It is a delicate subject and I do not know how I shall approach him.” Elizabeth realised the full truth of her words only as she spoke them. Lady Winslow could only be lying. But why?