His Choice of a Wife

by Heather Moll

  “It is unfortunate that your aim was too far to the right, Mr. Darcy. You might have saved me the trouble of having to shoot the scoundrel myself.” When Darcy could only doubt and stare, Lockwood continued with more of the courteous unease that marked their previous interactions. “You need not express any gratitude to me, sir, for saving your life. Dispatching Mr. Wickham was as much to my benefit as yours,” he said with a slight bow.

  “Why?” Darcy asked in a voice that was not quite his own. “Your benefit? Why, why would—”

  He was interrupted by the sound of a carriage door slamming, followed by the awkward noise of dragging feet and a plodding cane. A plain-featured, impeccably dressed woman was struggling to hobble towards the men clustered around Wickham’s body. Without a glance towards the body on the ground, she threw herself into the doctor’s arms, crying “Edgar!” The doctor returned her embrace, dropping the pistol to wrap both his arms around her.

  “I asked you to stay in the carriage, Cathy!”

  “We have to leave now!”

  “It is a justifiable homicide. He might have killed Mr. Darcy.”

  “I cannot allow you take that risk. I will not be parted from you now that we are finally rid of him. You could be hanged!”

  “I do not understand; who was the woman?” Elizabeth interrupted. “And why did the doctor bring a pistol of his own?”

  Darcy thought back to the confusion and chaos that followed the arrival of Mrs. Wickham onto Kingsmead Field. “It took us time to sort out the details of the sordid business. I was grateful for Fitzwilliam’s eager interest in society gossip although, perhaps, we ought to have been suspicious as soon as Dr. Lockwood offered his services.” He paused in his narrative, and Elizabeth did not prompt him to speak. She settled into his arms, her fingers still entwined with his own, and waited for him to continue.

  “Mrs. Wickham, the former Miss Hareton, was secretly engaged to her physician before Wickham ruined her reputation and her uncle forced them to marry. Dr. Lockwood continued to see her after Mr. and Mrs. Wickham removed to Bath, and he was with her when Fitzwilliam gave Mr. Wickham my challenge. We never did learn for certain whose idea it was, the lady’s or the doctor’s, but he presented himself to Fitzwilliam so that he could be sure Wickham died of any injury I inflicted. However, since he brought a pistol of his own, I can only surmise that he hoped for the opportunity to dispatch Wickham himself should the opportunity present itself.”

  “There was little chance the wound you caused was fatal?”

  “Dr. Lockwood was reluctant to treat him at all. The wound was severe enough to end the duel, but Wickham would have recovered quickly.”

  “And when Wickham attempted to kill you after the duel was concluded, the doctor shot Wickham? How extraordinary! You do not think the doctor will be prosecuted, do you?”

  Darcy coughed and became interested in his boots. “It was suggested to Dr. Lockwood and Mrs. Wickham that they leave England immediately. They might be on their way to Ireland.”

  Elizabeth knowingly smiled. “Is there an estate in Ireland where they might stay while they consider their prospects?”

  “I am sure I do not know their plans. I do know that Mrs. Wickham’s servants were happy to oblige her now that her dishonorable husband was dead. My own servants are keen to tell anyone who asks that I bested Mr. Wickham in a duel of honor. Mr. Kenneth, compensated for his trouble by Mrs. Wickham, told everyone that, after I left the field, Wickham was disconsolate after being defeated by me and suffered an unfortunate fatal accident with his own pistol. At least that is the rumor circulating amongst Bath’s residents.”

  “Indeed! I say there was nothing done in this whole affair that you did not do yourself.” She picked up Darcy’s letter. “I would not have married your cousin, whatever my situation. I would not have forgotten you so soon.”

  “That is just as well since he was disinclined to have you,” he replied with a smile.

  “Why did he come with you to Hertfordshire?”

  “He said, after this miserable business in Bath, he was going to personally deliver me into your hands, see me wed, and be glad to be rid of me. I believe your sisters are eagerly escorting him to Meryton where he is to collect what remains of Wickham’s debts so I might discharge them.”

  The two sat quietly together until the grass beneath them had nearly dried. Darcy first broke their silence. Although he wished he could express himself sensibly, the tumult of his mind only permitted him to ask the simplest of questions.

  “Marry me, Elizabeth?”

  She pulled one of her hands out from under his and raised it to his cheek while offering him a glowing smile. “I am sorry that I gave you any reason to doubt me. I was only frightened by the thought of losing you. Though we have reason to think my opinions of you not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as you imply.”

  “I never doubted you! What I mean to ask was whether you would marry me tomorrow. The banns are read, the articles are signed, and I have already asked Fitzwilliam to enquire at the church.”

  “A proper wedding breakfast would help dispel further rumors in the neighborhood. It is impetuous…”

  He was incredulous. “A wedding breakfast your mother can host for neighbors who have shunned you? Elizabeth, after all that we have suffered, I know not how much longer I can wait. I want you to tease me and laugh with me. I want to fall asleep every night with you in my arms. You must know how urgently I wish to begin my life with you.”

  “What would the world say if they knew, as I do, that you are an impulsive romantic?”

  “None would believe you.” Darcy stared deeply at Elizabeth, hoping that his desire to move his life forward with her came through in his gaze.

  “Fitzwilliam, I should very much like to go home.”

  Disappointed not to have the reply he wished, he nodded and rose, offering his hand. “Certainly, you have been out in the cold for hours. Colonel Fitzwilliam and your sisters have likely returned by now.”

  Elizabeth rose and stood in front of him with bright eyes and the wide loving smile he knew she gave only to him. Her hair was loose and now tangled around her shoulders, and her eyes were still red from her earlier tears, but to Darcy, she appeared lovely. “We have misunderstood one another yet again. We shall be the happiest couple in the world, and we ought to begin as soon as possible. We can marry tomorrow and leave for London from the church door. I want to go home—to Pemberley.”

  Darcy’s smile upon hearing these words matched hers. He tugged Elizabeth firmly against him and kissed her with wild abandon, taking her breath away. When he released her mouth, he held her close to him, relishing in the joyous excitement of knowing they would finally be together, able to appreciate one another’s worth and make one another truly happy until the end of their days.

  Chapter 29

  Berkeley Square

  10 August 1812

  Dear Madam,

  Mrs. Darcy and I shall remain in town another week before we depart for Pemberley. We both are pleased that Georgiana is well and are eager to be reunited with her.

  In regards to your intent to find a new situation, I would be pleased to offer satisfactory character references, but I have an alternative arrangement I ask that you consider. Mrs. Darcy’s sister, Catherine, would benefit from the genteel supervision of a lady such as yourself, and we have decided to remove her from her father’s home to form an establishment for her in London. Catherine’s situation is not the same as my sister’s, but I shall be contributing to her portion and believe that under your guidance she might flourish and make an eligible match. If you would consider remaining in my employ as companion to Kitty, and occasionally to Georgiana, we would be grateful.

  We may discuss this further when Mrs. Darcy and I return to Pemberley.

  Yo
urs &C,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  Darcy glanced at the towering pile of visitors’ cards on the silver tray in the hall before he ascended the stairs. His wife’s wedding visits were due to begin today.

  “To what do I owe this honor?” she asked mischievously when he entered her room. “I thought you would be for your club by now.”

  “I shall leave momentarily, but I saw a tall stack of cards awaiting you. If each call lasts fifteen minutes, I shall likely not see you again before we leave for Pemberley.”

  “Are there truly so many people who have an interest in seeing the new Mrs. Darcy?” Her tone was rather flat.

  “Most assuredly—irrespective of their curiosity in regard to any rumors about your sister or Wickham.”

  “What of the gentlemen at your club?”

  “It is not to be expected that anyone will be able to persuade me to speak of things I would prefer not to acknowledge.”

  “I expect the ladies will not be so easily placated in regard to the events in Bath.”

  “They will only stay long enough to say they have seen you. Then they will leave and talk about you with their friends. Thank goodness we shall leave for Pemberley soon and most of the visits need not be returned.”

  “I am grateful that my aunt had time to see me fitted in new gowns. It would not do for Mrs. Darcy to appear underdressed while on display.”

  “I was pleased with the state of your undress this past week.”

  Elizabeth had no witty rejoinder to this and gazed at her reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Darcy had imagined they might have more conversation before he left, but she lapsed into silence. Seeing that her mind was elsewhere and knowing that he wished to be gone before the visiting ladies arrived, he rose and planted a kiss on her cheek. He had already turned towards the door when Elizabeth called him back to ask a question.

  “Do I look satisfactory?”

  Darcy frowned in annoyance. He had expected impassioned kisses and was even happy to allow her to tease him so long as she smiled at him in that way that made his heart race. He knew that he had initially discounted her beauty, but he had apologized, had he not? And more than that, he had already told her more than once that he found her to be an exceedingly handsome woman.

  “Elizabeth, you appear lovely, as always,” he said touchily. “I wish you would not place me in a position that forces me to flatter your vanity.”

  She gave a sigh before she returned her gaze to the mirror. While he was walking through his own dressing room, Darcy felt the first stirrings of distress. He had been a husband for little over a week, and he could not be expected to know everything that a husband who loves his wife ought to say and do. But even if he did not comprehend Elizabeth’s need for reassurance, he was capable of providing it willingly and cheerfully.

  Choosing to do what would please her, although he did not understand it, Darcy went back to his wife but paused in the doorway. Elizabeth sat at her dressing table between two large windows, her expression blank. Her maid bustled around her, chatting with his wife more freely than he liked.

  “Miss Lizzy, you have a full morning.” She brushed Elizabeth’s hair. “I hear more than fifty cards have been left this week. Imagine, people your husband don’t even know wanting to get a look at you. If it were not August, there would be more!”

  “So I have been told by my husband.” After a pause, she added, not unkindly, “And do not let him hear you call me Miss Lizzy.”

  “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Darcy. All of this,” she said, gesturing to the room around her, “takes getting used to. Why, you’ll have wax candles in your children’s schoolroom! What will Pemberley be like?”

  Even Darcy could distinguish that the former Longbourn maid was still uneasy in her new surroundings.

  “You will do well, I have no doubt.” Elizabeth smiled over her shoulder. Darcy had always admired Elizabeth’s natural ability to converse easily with anyone, and he watched her fondly as her maid pinned Elizabeth’s hair in ringlets around her face. Darcy thought she looked quite comely and could not understand why Elizabeth frowned when she looked in the mirror

  “There. Even Mrs. Bennet would not complain if she saw you today. She always favored Miss Bennet, but you look pretty enough this morning. I have two gowns for you: the white or the green with worked muslin.”

  Darcy, still lingering in the doorway, watched his wife glance between the two and choose the green with a smile.

  “’Tis a lovely gown. Green was not a color you often wore in Hertfordshire. Miss Bennet wore green; it favored her coloring the best of all your sisters. She is handsome—pretty as a princess—Mrs. Bennet always said so. Of course, with a face like hers, it never did matter what Miss Bennet wore, did it?”

  Elizabeth briefly closed her eyes, a gesture Darcy knew meant that she was searching for patience. When she opened them, she replied sincerely, “Yes, Jane is the loveliest of all of us, inside and out.”

  “A handsome, sweet girl like that would succeed anywhere. I can imagine her sitting in the drawing room downstairs, holding court just as if she were the queen. Such pleasant manners, and she would never say the wrong thing. Oh, ma’am, I don’t like the cuff on your sleeve. I shall only be a moment.”

  Darcy watched the chatty maid gather up the gown and bustle out of the room, leaving Elizabeth standing awkwardly in her chemise and avoiding her reflection. It had never occurred to him that a lifetime of being “not so pretty as Jane” might take any sort of toll on her. Elizabeth had such a commanding presence and seemed so amused by any absurdity that came her way that he had not considered her to need assurance.

  When Elizabeth saw him, her features became composed as she asked him why he had returned.

  “I neglected to tell you that I have no doubt you will charm every superficial, gossiping harpy who comes to call. I love you, among many reasons, because you are unlike them. There is no need for you to perform for these people. My true friends will all rejoice at my having chosen the one woman who could have made me happy.”

  The complacent smile Elizabeth wore upon seeing her husband brightened into a sincere and glowing ray of sunshine that warmed Darcy’s heart. He crossed the distance between them and placed his hands on her narrow waist, slowly sliding them down to her slim hips and pulling her close. “Although I foolishly looked on you without admiration at that long-ago assembly, you must know that soon thereafter I acutely realized how mistaken I was in scarcely allowing you to be pretty.”

  “What a mortifying realization for your self-respect,” she murmured as she brought her hands to the back of his neck.

  “Your figure caught my notice, as did the beautiful expression of your dark eyes.” Darcy brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead, on her cheek, and then finally on her parted lips. The eager return of her soft lips on his still sent an intense thrill of desire through Darcy’s body, and he moaned when Elizabeth slipped her tongue into his mouth. Darcy relished in that familiar—and still wonderful—feeling of belonging that washed over him when he held his wife in his arms.

  Neither heard the dressing room door open, but they did hear the shrill squeak of surprise followed by a slamming door and hastily retreating footsteps. Darcy would have preferred to continue their activities unabated, but Elizabeth was smiling against his lips, and when he pulled away, she laughed.

  “Fitzwilliam, you have thoroughly scandalized my maid!”

  “She should become accustomed to it.”

  “Knowing that you have faith in me is not the same as hearing your reassurances. I do appreciate your confidence in me, dearest, although I wish you had told me sooner.”

  “You are so lively and engaging; I should have told you sooner that I never doubted that you would excel this morning. In fact, I think you are too clever, too charming, and too compassion
ate to waste your mental faculties considering any imagined inadequacies.”

  In her customarily arch manner, she replied, “Having some notion of your confidence in my talents and my attractiveness might make these insufferable visits almost tolerable.”

  “Elizabeth, I have a suggestion for our assured domestic felicity.” His wife’s eyebrows rose in question. “The next time I speak the truth and praise you, do not laugh to hide your discomfort at being complimented. Praising you is an act I intend to repeat. In reply, you might instead blush prettily and say, ‘Thank you, Fitzwilliam.’”

  He watched a series of emotions flash across his beloved’s face: surprise, amusement, shyness. Then Elizabeth placed her hands on his arms and, in a manner not unlike the way she found him one afternoon in the woods near Netherfield, kissed him on the cheek.

  “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”

  Ellendean Grange, near Dublin

  3 January 1813

  My dear Lizzy,

  What a relief it is to be situated in Ireland, although I am a fine size by now. Mr. Darcy’s estate here is much smaller than Pemberley, but it is still fine, and if it were not so far out of the way, I would be happier. I suppose it little matters that we are so far from Dublin because Dr. and Mrs. Lockwood have asked me not to leave the house. They hope to pass the child off as their own. Mrs. Lockwood says I may stay with them after the child comes for as long as I please. I am glad that it will have such a mother. I could never love it enough. It would always remind me of W., but the Lockwoods will adore it. Mrs. Lockwood is shy, but we get on well. If I stay in Ireland, the Lockwoods will tell everyone that I am a companion to Mrs. Lockwood because she is an invalid. But she happily spends all of her time with Dr. Lockwood, so as soon as my lying-in is over, I shall be able to go out as I please. Dr. Lockwood asks me to add his thanks that Darcy is generous enough to allow him to let his estate’s lodge at such a reasonable expense. Speaking of expenses, I have little allowance of my own, and I do look forward to being out in society again. Any money you could send me would do because, even if I am to act as a companion, I ought to have nice things. However, do not speak to Darcy about it if you had rather not.