Mr Darcy's Struggle

by Martine J Roberts

  “An excellent idea, Charles, most considerate of you,” Darcy acknowledged on behalf of them both, and they made their way into the warm interior.

  CHAPTER 15

  Jane and Elizabeth were grateful Mr Darcy had sent his carriage for them. The air had become chilled with the first frosts of winter, and it was an altogether superior ride compared to their own carriage. With plush, well-sprung seats it was far more comfortable, more spacious, and a lot warmer too.

  Once safely inside Netherfield, and relieved of their outer garments by the footmen, they quickly checked each other’s appearance. Satisfied they were unruffled by the journey, they signalled their readiness to enter the drawing room.

  As they walked in, Darcy and Bingley stood, their eyes going to their respected partners. After the customary salutes had been executed, they all turned their attention to the young woman seated by the fire. Darcy stepped forward to make the introductions.

  “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, please allow me to present my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

  The sisters curtsied, and Georgiana stood and shyly returned their greeting.

  “I hope the journey from Derbyshire was a pleasant one, Miss Darcy, and you are not too fatigued,” Jane enquired softly.

  “It was Miss Bennet, I thank you. My brother is always most attentive to my comfort.” Georgiana replied in a quiet voice.

  Elizabeth touched Jane’s hand and smiled, after that she excused herself and went to sit next to Mr Bingley. They exchanged shy smiles and were soon lost in quiet conversation. Elizabeth took the seat next to the young woman and observed she was twisting her handkerchief between her fingers. Remembering all that Darcy had said about her, and in light of his recent disclosure, Elizabeth realised she was but a shy young girl. Her perfectly dressed golden hair reflected the firelight, giving her an ethereal look. Coupled with her delicate features and unblemished complexion, she truly did look angelic. Elizabeth understood why Darcy protected her so fiercely; indeed, her countenance and fortune would make her a target for genuine suitors and fortune hunters alike. But with two years to go, before she could be presented at court, there was still time to bring her out of her shell. As for genuine admirers and suitors, Elizabeth knew Darcy would vet all-comers most diligently.

  “Miss Darcy, your brother tells me you enjoy music, the pianoforte, in particular,” Elizabeth said.

  She had decided to open the conversation with a topic she hoped Miss Darcy would feel comfortable with.

  “I do so love to play, and William has just purchased a beautiful new instrument for me, and it was delivered only last week. He said you played very well too, Miss Elizabeth,” she said enthusiastically, then stopped abruptly.

  She turned to look at her brother, afraid she had been unladylike in her eagerness, but he smiled and gently touched her shoulder in reassurance. Elizabeth could see she was as shy as Darcy had said and set about putting her at her ease; after all, they were to be sisters.

  “Oh, I am afraid he has grossly misled you, for I play very little and very ill,” Elizabeth replied playfully as she glanced at Darcy.

  “No, I said you played quite well. I have heard many ladies play a lot worse than you, Miss Elizabeth, many indeed,” and Darcy returned her smile.

  “Then I am satisfied. If you like, perhaps we can play a duet after dinner, Miss Darcy?” Elizabeth asked.

  Georgiana smiled and nodded. Watching the easy banter between her brother and his fiancé pleased her. And although she was only sixteen, Georgiana could recognise the sparks of sexual chemistry between them. Miss Elizabeth Bennet would certainly keep William on his toes, she mused.

  They continued to discuss the latest trends in fashion and hair before switching to the theatre and opera so Darcy might join in. Georgiana gradually began to participate more, even opening a few of the discussions herself.

  After a pleasant half hour of easy conversation, dinner was announced. Jane took Bingley's arm while Darcy escorted both Elizabeth and Georgiana.

  Before their guests arrived, the two men had enjoyed a pre-dinner drink in the library. Darcy had contrived the opportunity to advise Bingley that he had a gift for Elizabeth and would be obliged if he could entertain the other ladies while they slipped away, thus giving him the chance to present her with it in private. He had not imparted any further details, but Charles had consented to entertain Jane and Georgiana for a few minutes.

  All evening, Darcy had been watching Elizabeth, noting how she had slowly coaxed Georgiana out of herself with gentle enquiries and attentive listening. He had been right to confide in Elizabeth the events of last year, and the profound effect it had had on his sister. Seeing Elizabeth’s budding and genuine affection for Georgiana made Darcy’s heart swell with pride. Her kind and sensitive nature had helped Georgiana overcome her shy demeanour and enjoy the evening. How he had missed her these last few days.

  After dinner, the gentlemen decided to forgo the usual separation to indulge in brandy and cigars; instead, they joined the women for coffee.

  Georgiana, acting as hostess, waited until they had all been served before announcing she was, after all, feeling a little fatigued from the journey and would retire directly. She bade them all goodnight, and then accepted Darcy’s arm, letting him escort her into the hall. He took the opportunity to ensure it was nothing more than tiredness that ailed her and was relieved when she gave him her assurance that it was so. Darcy then kissed her on the cheek and bid her sleep well. There would be ample opportunity to ask how she liked Elizabeth tomorrow.

  He returned to the drawing-room and circled past Charles and Jane, catching his friend’s eye in a pre-arranged signal, then continued on to Elizabeth.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I wonder if I might elicit your opinion on a recent purchase Mr Bingley has acquired for his library?” he smiled and held out his hand.

  Elizabeth looked over to Jane and Bingley. They were ensconced together on the settee with eyes for only one another, and so she accepted Darcy’s offer. On taking his hand, she felt a surge of heat transfer from him as their naked hands touched. It was electrifying. She gave him a sidelong glance to see if he too had felt it, but what was evident on his face was a look of worry. Then as he guided her through the library door, she felt his hand touch the small of her back. Such a pleasant sensation and it radiated from the point of contact and coursed through her entire body. He could not fail to notice the effect his touch was having on her now, she thought, conscious that both her heart rate and breathing had increased. But Darcy appeared oblivious to Elizabeth’s heightened state and merely guided her to a chair by the fire.

  Once seated, she expectantly waited for him to bring forth the promised book. Instead, he paced back and forth in front of her, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Occasionally, he stopped to study her face, only to resume his pacing once again. Having seen Darcy act in this manner once before, she knew he was building up to something.

  Finally, he stopped before her and said in an exasperated voice,

  “Miss Bennet, we are to be wed in two weeks, are we not?”

  His formal address worried her. When they were alone, he usually called her by her given name, or even Miss Elizabeth, but never Miss Bennet. Couple this with his reference to their wedding, well, she found it quite disturbing.

  She folded her hands in her lap before calmly replying,

  “That is my understanding, sir.”

  He resumed his pacing. Damn, why will the words not come, he inwardly cursed? She must think me a tongue-tied fool. He stopped to gaze at her; she is quite exquisite, he mused. Like Charles, I am the luckiest of men to have found such a woman. Unlike Charles, I have not yet ‘won’ her. Instead, I lay claim to her by default. Thoughts flashed through his mind until finally, the clouds of confusion lifted. Keep it simple, tell her what you feel, offer her your heart and hope she is willing to accept it. He knew that if he did not give her the choice, he would forever suspect her reasons for marrying him. As m
uch as he wanted her, he would not condemn her to a life of regret. Recalling his mother’s advice when he once nursed a sick deer, ‘if you love something enough, you have to set it free. If it comes back, it is yours forever. If it does not return, it was never yours in the first place,’ Darcy knew what he must do.

  Drawing a deep breath, he began,

  “Miss Bennet, I know that you have taken our intended nuptials as the only recourse open to you after the events at Hunsford, but in all good conscience, I must give you the choice to be free of me,” he said heavily.

  He gave her a few seconds to digest his words before continuing,

  “I will, of course, take full responsibility for the breakdown of our engagement should you decide on that course. You could announce that you found me lacking in the social niceties,” he finished with a wry grimace.

  Elizabeth raised her brows at the statement. ‘To be free of me,’ she repeated to herself. It was true, she had never expected to be engaged to Mr Darcy; indeed, their betrothal had sprung from her actually refusing him. But after the initial shock, she had grown accustomed to the idea of being his wife. The prospect of being Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley did not daunt her unduly and came with considerable benefits. Darcy had proved himself to be quite capable of being amicable and civil, and after their recent encounters, she had no reason to believe them incompatible in the bedroom. The thought made her cheeks burn, but it was something she could neither ignore nor deny. Breaking the engagement had not crossed her mind since that first day, but clearly, it had Darcy’s. Did he find the thought of being bound to her so repellent? If this was indeed the case, she must also give him the opportunity to be free of her. Thankfully, their engagement was not yet common knowledge and could hopefully be dissolved with little inconvenience to either party. She felt quite strange at the prospect of him releasing her, bereft almost.

  Choosing her words with care, she replied,

  “And is this your wish, Mr Darcy?” her tone even and unrevealing.

  Darcy met her gaze and tried to read her face, but it was serene if a little flushed. He was taken aback at her reply. He had not expected her to answer him with a question. He thought she would be eager to accept his offer and to break their engagement readily.

  “It is not," he said with vigour, "but I would not have you regret your decision at a later date madam. I am mindful of your reply to my original offer.”

  So, he did not want to sever their connection either. Elizabeth was puzzled, why ask now then? It had been more than three weeks since Hunsford and on several occasions, she had allowed him to take liberties that she only ever intended to share with her husband. Was that it? Did he think her wanton and lacking in the proprieties? But she could not deny having feelings for Mr Darcy; he had elicited responses and stirred emotions in her she never knew existed. Examining how she felt on seeing him again after an absence of nearly a week, Elizabeth owned that her heart had beat a little faster, especially when his eyes held hers. She felt a warm glow of satisfaction that he looked at her so. She could think of nothing she had said or done to indicate that she was reluctant to continue with the engagement. Therefore, she must conclude he was trying to do what he thought was right. Darcy watched as a myriad of emotions played across her face. Was she trying to find the words to accept his offer, to be rid of him?

  After what seemed an eternity, Elizabeth raised her eyes and began her reply,

  “I cannot pretend to understand you making this offer to me now Mr Darcy. You know me well enough to be assured that if I did not want to wed you, nothing could have induced me to do so," she paused, "but, if it is your earnest desire to call off the wedding, I will not keep you to your obligation,” she finished.

  Darcy did not care that the relief that flooded his entire body, clearly showed on his face, and he gave her the broadest of smiles.

  “Miss Bennet, Elizabeth," he said, "I am well aware that you are not afraid to speak your mind, and I would not have it any other way." Still beaming, he continued, "Will you indulge me with one more question before we re-join the others?”

  He waited nervously for her to nod her assent. He had decided to speak from his heart as he had never done so before. Taking a step forward and dropping to one knee, he reaching for Elizabeth’s hands. Gently, he folded them in his own and looked lovingly into her soft, brown eyes.

  “Dearest Elizabeth, I have misjudged you in the past, and I dare not ask your feelings at present, but I must tell you of my own. Too long, I have laboured in the service of propriety, and I now realise that my life would be untenable without you in it. I had searched to find that special person, someone I could love and respect, someone to share my life with, but it was all in vain. And then I met you. You are the one, Elizabeth, the only woman I have ever had a desire to marry, to give my name. Thoughts of you fill my every waking minute. I long to please you, Elizabeth, to bring you joy and happiness, in all that we do. To be worthy of your love and affection; dear, sweet, Elizabeth, my love for you is of the most ardent nature, and I offer you my heart, and my protection, unconditionally; will you do me the honour of consenting to be my wife?”

  Blinking back the tears, Elizabeth drew in a ragged breath. His proposal was not only unexpected but a complete reversal of the one he had made in Kent. He offered no insults or regrets, no excuses to justify why he loved her, or his inner struggle. He just loved her. It was perfect.

  “I thank you for your offer sir and would be honoured to accept,” she said shyly.

  Darcy bent his head and kissed both her hands before pulling the ring from his waistcoat pocket. He carefully slipped it on her finger, and they were both happy to see it was a perfect fit.

  “Dear, sweet Elizabeth, my heart rejoices at our accord. You have my vow, that every day that I breathe God's good air, I will strive to make you happy and to be worthy of your affection.” Kissing her hands once again, he looked at her expectantly.

  “Does it please you, my love, it was my mother’s?” he asked.

  “It is perfect, Mr Darcy, I will cherish it always.”

  Blinking back the unshed tears of happiness, she could not help but tease him a little,

  “I see you anticipated my acceptance sir; you have not forgone all your pride then?”

  Darcy threw back his head and laughed aloud. Was there ever a time she would not bait him? Yes, a little presumptuous maybe, but he would not admit it.

  After the Bennet ladies had returned to Longbourn and Bingley had long retired, Darcy sat by the library fire enjoying a quiet brandy.

  Thinking about the events of the day, he was content. Elizabeth and Georgiana seemed to be forming a warm friendship, and this pleased him enormously. Elizabeth’s influence and nurturing nature would surely help Georgiana grow into a confident young woman. And in his heart, he knew he had done the right thing in offering Elizabeth her freedom. Knowing she came to him willingly made him feel strangely warm inside. He could pretend it was the alcohol or the warmth from the flames that gave him this glow of contentment, but he was too happy to deny his love.

  So this is how Charles feels, he mused; he owned it was not an unpleasant sensation. His thoughts turned again to his mother and how her words of wisdom had served him well. The three-day journey back to Netherfield had seemed an eternity, mainly because he was fretting on the outcome of this interview with Elizabeth, but in just a few minutes, all his fears had been dispelled. Ruminating on the passage of time, he had long known if it was something unpleasant, time went slowly, yet when it was something pleasant, time went swiftly. As he swirled the last tot of amber liquid around the bowl of the glass, he resolved to savour the latter more.

  CHAPTER 16

  Darcy was shocked, but not entirely surprised by what he was hearing. Having witnessed the behaviour of Lydia, and to a lesser extent Kitty, at the Netherfield ball, to now hear that Lydia Bennet had eloped with the scoundrel Wickham, did not come as a revelation at all. Considering the total absence of parent
al supervision, it was inevitable something like this would happen. He saw only surprised it had taken this long to occur. In the past few years, George Wickham had reportedly convinced several young heiresses to elope with him, only to never reach Gretna Green as promised. He hoped to secure his fortune by blackmailing the unfortunate girl’s family, thus funding his debauch lifestyle. In return, they could be assured of his silence. This time, though, Darcy knew it was another motive that goaded Wickham on; it was revenge, revenge for all their past dealings, real and imaginary. Now he was engaged to Elizabeth, he should have realised that one of the two youngest Bennet girls would be his next target, even though they had no fortune and no connections. It was down to him to ensure an acceptable, and by that, he meant wedded, conclusion to this matter. Make no mistake, he had no desire to be associated with Wickham in any way whatsoever, but the blaggard had picked his target well. Wickham knew Darcy would have to intervene. If this scandal was to become public knowledge, he doubted if even his illustrious name and influence could stop it from ruining the Bennet’s. In effect, it would mean an end to his engagement to Elizabeth. It would not do!

  He suddenly became aware that Elizabeth’s father was talking.

  “I must leave for London at once and try to find them, but where to start, where to start?”

  Mr Bennet was clearly agitated, and the letter slipped from his hand and fluttered down to land on his desk. He ran a hand through his grey hair and began pacing the study floor. A wave of regret washed over him, why had he not paid more attention to his family, instead of choosing to immerse himself in his books and garden? This mess could have been avoided if only he had not left the daily responsibilities of the house and child-rearing to his wife. Lizzie was right; a keener interest in the comings and goings of his children could have prevented this. If Lydia were not found, it would mean the ruination of his whole family. But having ventured to town rarely, he had no idea where to start looking for the runaways. And now his family were looking to him for a speedy solution.