by Nicky Roth
'But you see, with me as such a successful writer, it was quite fitting and so I came. I mean, who could not help out a lady such as the great Lady Catherine? Left everything as it was, packed and was off. Just like that. Well, I am a man of decision, when it comes to it. And after all, it was only for one night. So, what do you need then? The weather is getting uncomfortable, isn't it? Forgotten your shoes? I went to Tesco's with my slippers on the other day, can you believe it?'
Shoes... - That was it!
'Yes, I have. At home, stupidly enough. So we just quickly go into Hunsford and get me some,' Darcy smiled sweetly.
Penny looked down in bewilderment.
'Oh, but I am sure the ones you are wearing will do just fine. That's what I always dance in. You might recall the pair I wore at the harvest ball. Very comfy and perfectly suitable for dancing.'
Sure, who wouldn't remember who wore what kind of shoes? He wasn't even sure which pair he himself had worn that night, only that it had been black.
'Yes, but you see, mine are a wee bit too big and... - we'll be quick. But if we don't want to be all that late, we should really hurry now.'
Opening the car and pushing a bewildered looking Elizabeth in, Darcy sped off.
'I should thank Caroline Bingley. That woman taught me to make an escape, I tell you,' Darcy sighed, handing Elizabeth a kitchen towel from the roll he always had handy to wipe his hands with, so she could wipe the rain off her face.
'Cheers. - Looks like it. But you do know that now you will actually have to buy a pair of shoes, right?'
'Why? I don't need one, as you well know.'
'Yes, but knowing my cousin, he will feel obliged to tell Lady Catherine that in all probability we'll be late.'
Okay, good point. And besides, there was little doubt that they would be late. Alone the drive to Westerham was ten to fifteen minutes, then there was the wait...
Chapter 40:
The 6th of January
'Oh dear, I am in trouble now!' Elizabeth chuckled as they drove towards Hunsford and then past the village. 'My father knows I am here, and Jane, obviously, but my mother didn't and I would have preferred for it to stay that way a while longer, lest she starts planning our wedding. - Especially considering that it is a wedding crash-course we're attending. I am pretty certain she is already looking for venues for Jane and Charles.'
'I have to admit, no stretch of the imagination is needed there considering the little shopping-spree she did on a hunch just the other week. And yet, would it be so very bad?'
'Well, Charles and Jane do seem to suit each other perfectly. I am quite sure they will not need long to at least move in together and then, why not also marry? They are both so amiable and alike that they can just as well get done with it,' she grinned, leaning back in her seat.
She was only wearing a pair of grey trousers and a white shirt today, no makeup, her hair merely tied back with a clip and yet if anything, she looked even more lovely than last night in her dress. The understated clothes suited her. And it suited him that though her attire still hugged her figure here and there, it didn't reveal all that much and only he knew what lay beneath it, namely the most lovely woman he had ever beheld.
'I was actually referring to us, Lizzy,' he teased, grinning at her.
'Us? Well, we only just got together, Will.'
'Yes, and? You've met me when I was in a very bad mood, and yet, you didn't run, nor were you overly offended, which is something I will be forever grateful for. Besides, we can talk for hours without noticing how time flies by. We even feel comfortable, when we say nothing at all. We have a lot of similar interests and also a few that we don't share to make things more interesting. We have the same ethics, value family, share a similar humour. So why not?'
'Are you proposing?' she asked archly, her eyes gleaming half with amusement and half with an earnest desire to know his answer.
'Yes. - And I fear I am doing a bad job of it. I couldn't be any less romantic, could I?'
The words had stumbled out of his mouth before he could check them, but it didn't make them any less true. He did want to marry her. And also that he had presumably made the least romantic proposal in the history of mankind.
'I actually think you are doing a pretty good job, Will. Romance is what one makes of it. Candlelight-dinners are all nice and well, but mucking out a pigsty together can be just as romantic depending on the situation,' she replied laughingly.
'Hm, sounds like a date then,' now he had to laugh also.
As crazy as the situation was at present it would be even more so if he let her go again. To think that he would have to make do with the odd telephone call or text message over the next couple of weeks was a desolate enough prospect already. Especially after he'd had a taste of her in his arms, underneath, atop, beside... Well, perhaps it was better to concentrate on the road.
'Yes,' she grinned.
'Was that the answer to my first or my second question?'
She didn't answer immediately, biting her lip. The suspense was hardly bearable, now that he had popped the question. Okay, admittedly it had started out as nothing but banter, and how it had ended up being a marriage proposal he still wasn't quite sure, but what Darcy was sure of was that he had done the right thing and if she would only say...
'Both,' Elizabeth replied after a few instances at first puzzling him before it dawned on him, that this meant yes to both questions.
She would marry him. Yes, yes, yes!!!
He would have stopped right there and then just to kiss her, were it not for the bloody wanker right behind them who seemed to be in a fucking hurry. How very inconsiderate! If he hit the break now, he most certainly would cause an accident. Okay, there was the roundabout into Westerham and thank goodness, the other driver turned into another road down towards an industrial estate by the looks of it. Darcy, on the other hand, drove a little further and then stopped in front of a baker's shop in the busy high street that he knew also served sandwiches and tea. It also was right next to a shoe-shop. How practical.
If Elizabeth was surprised by him stopping there, she didn't say anything.
Helping her out of the car, there was one very important thing he had to do and that was kiss her. Kiss his fiancée, for the first time.
'You do know you made me the happiest of men just now, don't you?' he whispered into her ear.
'Are you sure? I can be a handful. And at any rate, I dare doubt you are half as happy as I am. I thought I would get scared as soon as the words left my mouth, but...'
'But?'
'I am perfectly content, actually.'
'Good. And now some breakfast, I would say. We've had an exhausting night. Not that I mind in the least. As a matter of fact, I am up for a repetition, but admittedly at the moment, I am quite ravenous. And then we'll see how to proceed, okay?'
In answer, she gave him another kiss and hand in hand they marched into the small shop.
They had almost crossed the room and approached the old-fashioned counter to order their food when...
'Should you not be at the dancing classes, Fitzwilliam?'
Okay, he knew that voice. What was it with them running into people at the most inconvenient of times? And sure enough, turning around he saw that there sat his aunt, back to the window, opposite her old friend Lady Metcalf, the good old dear. The latter smiling broadly and knowingly. Right, there the cat was out of the bag, but fortunately she wasn't a gossip.
'Aunt Cathy? - Good morning Lady Marjorie, how are you?'
'Quite well, my boy. Thanks to the lovely lady by your side. She saved my life, you know?'
Elizabeth? Okay... - Easy to believe, actually. But how did these two know each other?
'You still haven't answered why you are here instead of where you should be, namely at Rosings practising how to dance, Fitzwilliam.'
'Well... - eh...'
Okay, the excuse with the shoes was a bit flimsy but perhaps it would work again.
'Yo
u see, I left my shoes at home.'
'The shoe shop is next door, Fitzwilliam.'
'Yes, but we missed breakfast and...'
'You missed breakfast? Now really, Fitzwilliam, since when are you sleeping in? You normally are up and about before the chef even starts his shift. Are you ill?'
'No, I am perfectly fine. What are you doing here at this time of day anyway? I thought you were at Rosings taking care of things.'
'So you thought? Well, I came to see if Marjorie is alright, of course. After her breakdown last evening during her class that was the least I could do. After all, it all happened under my roof.'
Ah, okay, that explained a lot.
'And earlier on this horrid mother had the gall to come and complain about her daughters being traumatised or something along those lines. Before breakfast! No manners, I tell you. Anyway, I paid them a refund for the remainder of the weekend and dumped them at the station. In person!'
'Good riddance, if you asked me,' Lady Metcalf emphasized by picking up her cup of tea and toasting towards Elizabeth.
'Most certainly,' his aunt snapped with an air of complacency. 'By the by, Fitzwilliam, did you see Mr Collins this morning? I didn't see him last night to ask if everything went well. He was done sooner than I had expected, but that is just as well. There is a lot to say about efficiency. Now such a pleasing man, don't you agree?'
'Uhm - well, there are not many men like him.'
Thank goodness! Beside him, Lizzy shook with suppressed laughter and even Marjorie Metcalf struggled to keep a straight face. Seriously, if they didn't pull themselves together he would crack up any moment now. But dubbing Mr Collins efficient? Pleasing? Okay, pleasing he might be, though in a very annoying manner, and there were definitely other adjectives he would use for the man. Silly, for example, clumsy, persistent, thick...
'No, definitely not,' his aunt presently agreed with him. 'So obliging and friendly. Always paying proper compliments with such an unstudied air and so little pretence.'
Yeah, right... Were they even speaking of the same man?
'So, how was his lesson, Fitzwilliam?'
'Very interesting, aunt. He's got his teaching methods down do a T.'
'And are you prepared for your wedding speech, Will?' Lady Marjorie threw in before his aunt could reply, her eyes sparkling with mischief darting from him over to Elizabeth and back before resting on their entwined hands.
'As prepared as I will ever be. I think I'll leave it to my best man as one should.'
'Oh, but Fitzwilliam isn't getting married, Marjorie. He's just here to learn how to dance. At last. Have you heard such a thing, twenty-eight years old and can't dance! Which is exactly why he should be at Rosings and not here dawdling around having breakfast.'
'Oh? Well, then. If you say so, Catherine. But since they are here now, they can just as well eat something and have a cup of tea with us. You can't dance properly on an empty stomach.'
Grumbling his aunt condescended and both he and Elizabeth ordered something to eat and a mug of tea for each of them.
'So, Miss Bennet, where are you from? And what do you do for a living?' his aunt soon enough began her interrogation of which he was surprised that it had not already taken place.
Then again, she didn't have the time as yet.
'I study biology and agriculture, but this summer I had to take care of my father's farm after he suffered an accident. And I am from Longbourn, a small village in Hertfordshire, close to Meryton,' Lizzy answered with near perfect poise, save for the twitch at the corners of her mouth that showed her amusement.
'Then I am sure you must know Mr Collins.'
'He is my father's cousin, Milady.'
'Ah, is he now? He never said so.'
'I presume he didn't have reason to. He didn't even know I was here until he saw us when we were about to leave, nor did I know that he would be one of the tutors.'
'That actually sounds logical. With all the important stuff we usually have to discuss, the less important things are left unsaid, naturally. So how do you know my nephew?'
'We met a couple of weeks ago when he was visiting his friend Mr Bingley, who incidentally bought an old estate on the other side of Meryton to turn into a conference centre.'
'Ah yes. - Have you met Miss Bingley?'
'I have.'
Eh, why did he have a feeling that his aunt was up to something?
'Lovely woman that. So well mannered. Knows exactly what she wants. I greatly admire that in a lady.'
What the heck? And thinking about it, when and where had she met Caroline of all people? It had been most certainly not through him.
'I met her earlier this year at one of her mother's charity events. It was very kind of Mrs Hurst to think of me when one of her patrons had to cancel. But then again, I have to say, I do have a bit of a reputation for being charitable. Are you going out with her, Fitzwilliam?'
'Caroline? Hell, no!'
If this harpy had implied as much he would throttle her. This was going too far, spreading such rumours among his relatives.
'If you carry on being this picky you will never find a wife.'
Right, please Lizzy, give me a sign...
Okay, that was a slight nod, wasn't it? Yes, most certainly.
'Well, as a matter of fact, I am actually engaged to be married, aunt.'
'You are what?'
'Are you deaf, Catherine? He said he is getting married,' Lady Metcalf threw in.
'And why are you here with Miss Bennet then instead of your bride to be?'
'Take an educated guess, Aunty.'
'Manners, Fitzwilliam! - Do you mean to say that you and Miss Bennet are getting married?'
'Yes.'
One, two, three: explosion... - Or not.
Hello...? No shit hitting the fan? Odd.
'And there you made such a fuss last night about wanting a second room?!' his aunt finally exclaimed indignantly. 'That's positively silly! We are living in the twenty-first century for heaven's sake. Nothing wrong with a bit of rompy-pompy before marriage. You know, occasionally you are too stuck up for your own good, Fitzwilliam. Mrs Reynolds should dust you off more often before you get too stuffy. Though I guess that is Miss Bennet's job from now on. See to it, dear, will you?'
Open mouthed Elizabeth nodded.
Okay, this was not the reaction he had anticipated. Not even remotely.
'Have you set a date yet?' Aunty Cathy carried on undeterred, ignoring the utter confusion she had just caused.
'No.'
'Personally I think a winter wedding is to be preferred to one in summer. What say you, Miss Bennet? - Ah well, I might just as well call you Elizabeth, and you may call me Aunt Catherine – or Cathy, if you must.'
'I am as yet undecided. I like summer, but it can get a bit too hot. Spring is nice as well, though I have to say my favourite season is autumn when everything gets quieter and colourful. When it comes to winter it depends on the weather. In Hertfordshire it hardly ever snows and so it is mainly just bleak, which is not all that nice, I have to say.'
'Well, Derbyshire has a lot of snow most years. Then I'd say that is settled,' his aunt stated matter of factly while pulling out her mobile. 'Ah, and as it is, the 6th of January happens to be a Saturday. Now that is lucky. I got married on the 6th of January and my marriage was a happy one.'
Right, did they have any say in this? Apparently not. And then there was always Mrs Bennet to be reckoned with...
Elizabeth obviously thought along the same lines judging by the slightly panicky expression on her face. The colour made her face glow. Even in her bewilderment, she looked nothing but stunning in his eyes.
'Have you eaten up?' Lady Catherine asked all of a sudden, startling them with the change of subject.
Both he and his beloved nodded like two children not daring to say another word. Okay, perhaps that was better anyway. Who knew what his aunt would say next? Besides, they could always sort out everything later, when they
were alone. After all, neither his aunt nor her mother could call the banns for them. Thank goodness!
'Then go and buy your shoes and off with you to your dancing lessons, Fitzwilliam. You've already missed most of the morning classes anyway, and rest assured, I will insist on a waltz.'
Ten minutes and a pair of ill-fitting shoes later both he and Elizabeth were back in the car.
'Lizzy, regarding our original purpose in coming here... - Shall we risk it? I mean not going to the doctor's. I know it was my suggestion in the first place, but it feels wrong somehow, doesn't it? I know you want to finish your studies, but I will be at home, so that won't be a problem even when... - And perhaps you could transfer to Derby university? Don't get me wrong, it is your decision, but I want you to know that you don't have to feel obliged to remedy our little mistake and that there are many options even if there are consequences. Okay?'
'Thank you, Will,' she whispered as she leaned over to kiss him. 'Yes, let's get back to Rosings and get you to dance at last. Once my mother hears of our engagement, there will be no way out of it and considering that Penny knows I am here with you...'
'... we will get married on the 6th of January.'
'Yep.'
'And maybe have a baby in nine months time. I actually quite like the idea. Now, if you want to buy a wedding dress, I can actually recommend Marjorie's little shop, she's got a good eye and good taste.'
'Yes, I know. I actually already have... - Never mind.'
'Spill it!'
'She gave me a dress as a thank-you whether I wanted it or not.'
'Good, that's another thing sorted then,' Darcy replied dryly, both bursting out laughing.
Chapter 41:
Perhaps, a flower theme?
'One, two, three - one, two, three - one, two, three...,' the monotonous voice of the dance teacher, enhanced by a badly tuned microphone, sounded in his ears making it hard to pay attention to the actual music.
Yes, well, what did he know? But somehow Darcy had been under the impression that it was the music one had to follow and it didn't exactly help that from the little he could hear of the tune, the instructor seemed to be off with her counting. Ah well, never mind. Why worry when he held his smiling bride in his arms?