Darcy's Ultimatum

by Jennifer Joy

  When they were close enough to see the faces of the officers, Elizabeth heard a sigh from Georgiana. She looked at her friend and saw a disappointed countenance.

  Taking advantage of the distraction of the lively conversation between the two other passengers in the carriage, Elizabeth leaned forward and asked, “Were you searching for someone in particular?”

  Georgiana glanced at her brother, ensuring herself that his attention lay elsewhere. “I hope that I might see Mr. Wickham. He is a long-time friend of our family, though things have changed.” She did not even whisper his name, only mouthing the sound, all the while watching her brother like she was afraid he would hear.

  Elizabeth burst with curiosity, but this was neither the time nor the place. Nor would she force a confidence should circumstances permit her to inquire.

  The ride around the park passed too quickly. The smell of spring grass and horses transported Elizabeth to her beloved countryside. The sounds of whinnies, carriage wheels on gravel, and hundreds of conversations surrounded them. The warmth of the afternoon sun cooled slightly as it began its slow descent and Elizabeth was happy she brought a shawl. Emma, blessed with the vigor of youth, talked, pointed, and enjoyed every second in Mr. Darcy’s fine carriage. It was charming to behold.

  Too soon, it was time to return home. Aunt Gardiner met them as they entered and invited the Darcys to dine with them.

  The conversation at the table fulfilled all of Elizabeth’s expectations. Mr. Darcy sat between Mr. Gardiner, who occupied his post at the head of the table, and Georgiana. Elizabeth sat on the other side of her uncle and she could partake in their conversation with ease.

  She felt Jane, who was seated next to her, squeeze her hand under the table as the main course was served. She dared not turn her head further, for she felt Mr. Darcy’s gaze throughout the meal. She and Jane would have much to discuss later. Elizabeth squeezed back and she saw Jane smile from the corner of her eye.

  As the evening continued, the weight on Elizabeth’s shoulders lightened. She liked this Mr. Darcy.

  Chapter 17

  One month later, early June

  With two weeks left in the season, Darcy was ready to pronounce his admiration to Miss Elizabeth. His dreams, occupied by the brown-haired woman with fine eyes, only fueled his need to see her. When he drove in the park or walked anywhere, he found himself searching for Miss Elizabeth in the hope of looking upon her again. To Darcy’s pleasure, he had many opportunities to see Miss Elizabeth as he accompanied Bingley to call on Miss Bennet. But that too was insufficient. It was growing harder and harder to part company.

  Darcy looked down the floor to ceiling shelves of books in his family’s library. Elizabeth would love this room. While Darcy would never speak her name so casually, it came naturally to call her by her Christian name, if only in his mind. Elizabeth.

  The books were meticulously sorted by category. The more valuable tomes occupied a prominent position on the mid-level shelves while the frivolous fiction his sister and, on occasion, his father liked to read occupied the higher shelves. Ironically, only Darcy had sufficient height to reach some of them without a ladder. He had not allowed himself to enjoy fanciful works of fiction as they served no purpose other than to entertain and he rarely had the time for frivolous activities. Yet, here he was, pondering a shelf of books and wondering what Elizabeth would choose to read if she were there.

  Darcy no longer tried to deny his growing attraction to Elizabeth. Many a time Darcy resisted the impulse to see if her hair felt as soft as it looked. Many a time Darcy lost himself in her eyes. They sparkled with life and enchanted him.

  Intellectually, Darcy saw Elizabeth as his equal. He possessed more knowledge on a greater variety of subjects, but Elizabeth’s curiosity and willingness to discuss any subject would soon close that breach. Though they saw things differently on many themes, conversation with her was never dull. Sometimes Darcy found himself prodding Elizabeth to disagree just to see how she would reason. They engaged in verbal jousting often and Elizabeth seemed to enjoy it just as much as Darcy did, for a smile from her was never far away. Her face brightened when she smiled and reminded Darcy of a perfect, sunny day when the roses were in bloom. Darcy sighed in spite of himself. He sounded too much like Bingley— waxing poetic.

  If Darcy allowed himself only to dwell on Elizabeth’s fine points, he would propose marriage that very day. There would be no time to waste; no hesitation. But he could not declare himself before speaking to his father.

  Unfortunately, what the Darcys held in the highest regard was the one thing Elizabeth lacked— social standing. The daughter of a landed gentleman established her as Darcy’s equal legally, but they could not be more different socially. Darcy’s ancient and highly respected family name demanded an equally well-positioned Mistress for Pemberley. Someone society would look up to, as they did to Darcy and his father. Darcy was willing to overlook this deficiency, but he was not certain his father would.

  George Darcy had married a lady of rank. Darcy remembered certain details about his mother well. She was regal. Her elegance and delicacy of manners elevated her above the most elite members of the ton. What would she have thought of Elizabeth, who so freely spoke her mind and was uncommonly active with her frequent and long walks? Darcy had no doubt that Elizabeth would choose to walk to the nearest library rather than wait for a servant to fetch her a book. Darcy smiled at the freedom Elizabeth enjoyed. Yes, she would love this room, though it paled in comparison to the library at Pemberley.

  The hour grew late. It would soon be time to dine. Darcy, alone in the house, preferred to take meals at his men’s club when Georgiana could not join him. She had gone to the theater with some friends from her finishing school and Darcy chose to stay home.

  Darcy stretched up to the high shelf and selected a novel. While he lowered it down and ran his fingers over the imprinted cover, he heard a commotion at the front of the house. And then a voice he knew as well as his own wafted into the book room.

  Darcy placed the novel on a table in the library before going out to greet his father. He preferred not to endure the teasing that would ensue if he were seen with such a book. He would sneak it up to his room later.

  “There is my firstborn,” Father roared with his arms extended. Darcy took a deep breath and braced himself. After a couple whacks on the back and a hug that made something in his spine pop, Father placed both of his hands on Darcy’s shoulders, looking at him intently.

  “I must know, William. Have you made any progress? Or am I to keep my appointment with the solicitor in the morning?” His eyes roved over Darcy’s face, anxiety in his brow.

  Darcy did not want to speak with his father about Elizabeth just yet. So, he thought it best to change the subject.

  “Come, you must be famished from such a long journey. Have you eaten? I was about to go to the club if you would like to join me.”

  “William, answer the question.”

  Darcy clenched his jaw and summoned his courage. “There is a young lady whom I greatly admire. But, I cannot say that I have found a lady worthy of sharing our family name.”

  “A lady worthy of sharing our name? What, are you hoping to marry a duchess? At this point, I would provide a handsome dowry to any lady of good birth to take you off my hands!” Father threw his arms into the air and his complexion deepened.

  “You married a titled lady.” Darcy wanted to make sure his father meant what he said.

  “I did. And a fine lady she was too. But that is beside the point, Son. I sent you to London with one task and one task only. With your inheritance in question, I did not expect you to come up empty-handed. Now, how can you love a woman you consider unworthy?”

  Darcy crossed his arms. He took responsibility and his inheritance very seriously and it pained him to hear his father’s question so plainly put.

  “I do not consider her unworthy. I am only afraid that you will.”

  “I draw the line at act
resses. Oh Lord, William, you did not fall in love with someone’s mistress, did you? That, I forbid.” His voice was firm. He meant business.

  “No, no. Gracious, no,” Darcy negated emphatically. “Her name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She is the daughter of a gentleman in Hertfordshire. While she is without fault in my eyes, it is her family’s lack of genteel behavior that causes my hesitance. I am certain mother would have avoided their acquaintance.”

  “Your mother, Lady Anne, put herself above the company of most people. I should like to meet this Miss Bennet. Now, I am hungry. Maybe Cook can prepare something in the kitchen.”

  Father left Darcy standing alone in the hall, hardly able to believe how simple that had been. All the worry, all the anxiety, had been a waste of time and energy. Had it not been beneath him, Darcy would have smacked himself in the forehead for his own stupidity.

  His father’s less-than-complimentary remark of his mother raised some questions in Darcy’s mind. Darcy remembered his mother as perfect as a lady could be and Father had loved her dearly. He waited until Father had drained a glass of wine and finished his soup before asking, “What was Mother like?”

  Mr. Darcy looked up from his last bite of soup. “You do not remember her?”

  “I thought I did, but today you have made me doubt my memory.”

  “I fear I am to blame. As you grew up, I could see that you would be a handsome lad— a chip off the old block, I like to think.” Father chuckled at his joke. “I never did want you to settle for Anne, more to protect you from Lady Catherine’s stifling influence than anything. She is unbearable. Why do you think I had Mr. Bowers disassemble the coach? It was so you could spend some time with your future mother-in-law, Lady Catherine. I hoped that would be enough to dissuade you.” He shivered and shook his head. “Anyway, it became apparent to me after your mother died and as you grew that you would attract all manner of manipulative matrons wanting you to marry their daughters and fatten their coffers. So, it was easy for me to… glorify Anne in your eyes and make her out to be the kind of woman you should marry. I meant to protect you from leeches and social climbers who would only trample on you. I never meant for it to keep you from loving someone worthy of your heart.”

  Darcy did not know whether to throttle his father for manipulating him and turning his mother’s memory into a fable or kissing him for giving him the freedom to choose Miss Elizabeth for his wife.

  Something needed settled in his mind while his father was in a confessing mood.

  “What was mother like? I need to know more. I never thought it possible, but I cannot recollect the sound of her voice. I only have bits and pieces of images with her in it.”

  Father took his time responding to Darcy’s question, twirling the wine in his glass. Darcy tried to conjure some of the memories he held of his mother, but it was becoming more and more difficult as the years passed. She had been gone as long as Georgiana had been alive. Fifteen years.

  “Know this, William. I loved your mother and I would probably marry her all over again if given the opportunity.” Mr. Darcy breathed deeply and exhaled deeper. “The problem was, Anne did not love me as much as I would have liked. She tried— God knows how she tried— but she had been raised since infancy to repress her feelings. I know what the rules of society say, but love between a man and woman in their own home should not have such restrictions. It is not healthy and contributes to infidelity more often than not.”

  Darcy’s eyes widened.

  “No, no, no. I know what you are thinking and let me reassure you that your mother never gave me cause to suspect her loyalty. What stifled her was the stiff propriety ingrained in her since birth and the constant dread of being misjudged and ruined in the eyes of the ton.” He finished off his second glass of wine and rested his face in his hands.

  Darcy was stunned. He should have known that his mother had faults but, in his mind, she had always been perfect. That was the image of her his own father encouraged. Even worse for Darcy was seeing how defeated Father looked sitting across the table from him.

  “Father…” Darcy started. He could not find the right words, so sat there looking at his father, wishing he could console him.

  “I know, William, I know. Anne is gone now many years, but she surrounds me. Georgiana is her twin in appearance and then there is you. You do not resemble her in appearance, but in manners, you are her equal. Do not let society suffocate your chance at happiness.”

  The comparison felt like a bucket of icy water thrown on Darcy’s face.

  An hour later, Darcy’s mind was still reeling. Valuing honor and responsibility as much as he did, Darcy also felt very deeply. Unlike his father, he had learned at an early age to hide his emotions well. He would not be satisfied to suffer through a cold, loveless marriage. Though thoughts of Lady Henrietta had diminished weeks ago, she was now completely erased from Darcy’s mind.

  His thoughts went back to his cousin, Anne, and her refusal to accept their arranged marriage. Darcy’s pride had been hurt at the time and he had thought her foolish. Now, he would kiss her hand in gratitude. Darcy was not sure how it started, but he felt changed. He would sooner lose his inheritance than marry for money or position and, if Elizabeth would have him, Darcy’s inheritance was secure.

  Darcy knew without a shadow of doubt that Elizabeth would make him happy and he would never rest in his attempts to make her happy too. Aside from the economic advantages Darcy could offer her, he could give her culture. They would travel and go to the theaters and museums. She could experience things she could only have dreamed about and Darcy would delight in broadening her horizons outside the confines of a book. She could walk all day on Pemberley’s grounds and muddy as many hems as she pleased.

  Darcy hardly knew what he was doing when he charged into his room and changed his clothes; his focus was so determined on seeing Elizabeth that very night. He knew where she would be. He sent a message to his travel-weary father explaining where he was going. Darcy was going to a ball. He would explain the details later, but he had every intention of declaring his intentions that night.

  Darcy shrugged into his formal jacket and his valet brushed him off as a final touch. When Darcy left his room, Father was waiting for him in the hallway.

  “William, what is this about?” Father looked at Darcy like he had grown a second head. “This has every indication of an impulsive act and I have never known you to act impulsively. It had better be for a lady. If I were not so tired, I would go with you to see for myself.” Father grumbled.

  Seeing no reason to conceal his purpose to his father now, Darcy said, “It is for Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  “Be gone with you then, my son. I shall await your good news on the morrow. Please invite her for lunch or something. I should like to meet my future daughter.” He smacked Darcy on the shoulder in such a way that propelled Darcy down the hall and toward the door.

  “I will not disappoint you, Father,” said Darcy as he hurried out to make his way to the ball and Elizabeth.

  The grin on his father’s face gave Darcy courage as his carriage crawled through the busy streets to the Hall where the public ball was held.

  The traffic did not improve once inside the Hall. Darcy wished people would stop greeting him. His sole purpose was to find Elizabeth. He needed to speak to her, but instead, Darcy found himself trapped in polite but pointless chit chat as he trudged through the room. Sometimes good manners were horribly inconvenient.

  Darcy spotted Bingley dancing with Jane. He looked down the line of couples and there she was. Elizabeth. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked very much like the first time he had seen her. Flushed and frustrated, but much cleaner. Darcy looked to her dance partner and he understood her demeanor immediately. Her partner was a stout gentleman, a clergyman by the looks of him, who either did not know the dance or could not hear the music. Darcy was not the only individual to watch the entertainment, he noticed.

  Eventually, the dance ended and
Darcy saw Bingley escort Miss Jane back to her seat where he sat next to her. He must have exhausted his two dances already.

  Darcy expected Elizabeth to join them, but instead she danced the next song with the left-footed clergyman. Who was that man and what did Elizabeth see in him to give him a full set?

  Bingley stood up and started walking in Darcy’s direction. Maybe he would know.

  “Bingley.”

  “Darcy, how good to see you. I had not thought you wanted to dance tonight.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Well, I am glad of that. Come with me. I was on my way to get Jane a glass of lemonade.”

  “How is Miss Bennet?”

  “She is perfect, Darcy. I proposed this morning and she accepted my hand.” If Bingley could push his chest out any further, buttons would pop.

  “Congratulations Bingley.” They pumped hands and slapped each other on the back in a sort of manly embrace only a gentleman could properly execute.

  “I will be taking up residence in Netherfield Park shortly. I should like to leave immediately, but for some reason, Jane is determined to stay in town two more weeks. If it were up to me, I would depart tomorrow and we would be married in Hertfordshire this weekend.”

  “I wish both of you the utmost happiness my hasty friend. I am glad you found Netherfield Park to your liking after all the trouble it took to get there.”

  “That trouble helped me find Jane. If that is trouble, then I say, let me have more!”

  They reached the table of refreshments and Darcy listened as Bingley expounded on the beauties of his leased estate and its soon-to-be Mistress.

  “It pleases me to give Jane a home so close to her family.”