His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel

by Nancy Kelley

  Am I then so caught up with social standing that I cannot offer simple congratulations to a family without it being a noteworthy event? Was Elizabeth so right about me?

  Darcy had long acknowledged he had not the ease or openness of manner that many did. Of course he had pride in his family and his land, but he had never taken the time to consider how that was presented to others. In truth, he had never cared enough for the opinion of others to care how they saw him, but now he wondered if it was more than how he appeared. Am I truly prideful?

  Over the next few weeks, he examined his interactions with all he met: staff, tenant, and landowner alike. What was his first response in all of these situations? Was it one of habitual pride? Did he consider himself so far above even his friends? Were Elizabeth's accusations true?

  Such self-examination is never a pleasant course of study, and therefore, Richard's return in late May was welcome for the diversion it offered. "Did you grow tired of your family so soon?" Darcy teased when they were seated in the study.

  The late evening sun shone on Richard's face, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes. "You have no idea," he said, his face pulled into a grimace. "My dear mama had a list of eligible young ladies waiting when I arrived. Take heart, Cousin, that you have no parents trying to marry you off."

  Darcy flinched and Richard groaned. "Oh Lord, William, I did not think. I did not mean --"

  Darcy held up his hand. "I assure you," he said harshly, "I quite took your meaning. However, I cannot see how facing a list of women you do not wish to marry is any worse than being refused by the woman you do!"

  "I put my foot in it this time." Richard rubbed a hand across his face, but Darcy quashed any feelings of sympathy.

  Richard opened a cautious eye. "As long as I am in your black books already, may I say that I admire the lady for rejecting you? It would certainly have been an advantageous marriage, not only for her, but also for her sisters. For one to marry a wealthy man would have opened the door to others."

  Darcy snorted. "Careful, you begin to sound like Mrs. Bennet. She expressed very similar sentiments when complimenting herself on snaring Bingley for her eldest."

  Richard furrowed his brow. "I beg your pardon?"

  "I told you of Bingley's close escape while we were on the road to Rosings--do you recall?" Richard nodded. "The lady he nearly married is Elizabeth's elder sister."

  Darcy did not understand the comprehension that dawned on his cousin's face. "I am afraid," Richard said very slowly, "that you might owe part of your current misery to me."

  Darcy rose from his seat and poured them both a brandy. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked when he handed Richard a glass.

  His cousin took a sip of the liquor before he answered. "When I spoke with Miss Bennet the morning before you proposed, I spoke of the role you played in separating Bingley from an undesirable connection. I did not know the lady in question was her sister."

  Darcy's free hand clenched into a fist, but he forced himself to relax. Richard had no way of knowing, he reminded himself. "It is no matter," he said when the flush of indignation had passed. "That was merely the last in her list of complaints against me."

  Darcy stood by the window and observed the way the sunlight reflected through the brandy. The shifting amber hues at least gave him something besides Richard's guilty countenance to look at.

  "You know Darcy," Richard said, and Darcy turned back to him, "it strikes me as odd that you would not consider the Bennet family to be suitable connections for Bingley, if you did not scruple to pursue Miss Bennet for yourself."

  Darcy froze, his brandy glass raised halfway to his lips. "Though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally seem insufficient, I have not yet learned to condemn them."

  The words from his letter taunted him. With Richard's comment, he could see them as they might have appeared to Elizabeth, and he sat back down and groaned. My pride, my insufferable pride.

  "William?"

  Darcy looked up, almost surprised to see Richard still sitting across from him. "I am fine, it is only..." He tilted his head. "You were not sure I had done rightly by Bingley when I told you of my involvement, were you?"

  Richard shrugged. "It shows a certain lack of consideration --"

  "For the feelings of others," Darcy completed, now completely numb.

  Oh God, could Elizabeth have been right? Am I so conceited, so sure my own judgment is always correct that I disregard what others might feel?

  Richard set his glass down on the small table between them, and the loud clink startled Darcy. "You appear to have a great deal on your mind, William. I believe I will turn in for the night." He turned back when he reached the door. "Do not stay up the whole night, going over and over what she said. It is done--leave it at that."

  But Darcy could not. "Do you think any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?"

  "And I treated her accusation with contempt." Darcy stood and paced the room, stopping now and again to look out at the park. "I might by now have shown Pemberley to Elizabeth, had I not been so full of vanity."

  He sank into a chair near the window, where he could watch as the setting sun sent reflections of pinks and golds dancing across the stream. The picture tugged at his memory, and he followed the string until he saw Elizabeth standing before the brook at Rosings just after sunrise.

  Lovely as the image was, he could not think of it without likewise remembering he had then believed her to return his affections to some extent, if not in equal measure. "Indeed, I went to Hunsford that night believing her to be expecting my addresses. Could there be a stronger sign of arrogance?"

  All thoughts of Wickham were now gone. Darcy had for a time laid the greatest share of his sorrow at his enemy's feet--for surely, if Wickham had not deceived Elizabeth, she would have accepted him.

  He snorted. "And yet again I disregarded her feelings, this time concerning Miss Bennet. Ah Elizabeth, how truly you named my faults, though I would not listen."

  The knowledge that there would be no second chance lingered in the back of his mind, but he pushed the thought aside. I may never meet Elizabeth again, but I can honor her by taking her remonstrations to heart.

  Darcy was even more grateful than usual to be at Pemberley. Given his recent revelations, he knew he would be very bad company. Even Richard did not stay long, but returned to his London lodgings after only a week.

  Now his only company was Georgiana, and for the first time, he selfishly wished she were elsewhere. He had not the energy to entertain her, and he could tell by her confusion each night that she wondered at his low spirits.

  Business took Darcy to Matlock for two weeks in the middle of June, and not wanting Georgiana to be alone, he asked if she would wish to stay with their aunt and uncle. Her pensive frown should have told him she had something in mind, but he had forgotten her normally observant nature.

  It was not until they were on their way back to Pemberley two weeks later that he realized his mistake. She waited until they were comfortably ensconced in the carriage and on the main road before she turned to him.

  Darcy laughed. "Why do you look at me with such a serious expression, Georgiana? Have I done something to vex you?"

  Georgiana frowned and shook her head impatiently. "Of course not, Fitzwilliam. You know you are the best brother--no one could be kinder to me. That is why I must ask what is troubling you."

  Darcy crossed his arms over his chest. "Whatever makes you think something troubles me?"

  She leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please, Fitzwilliam, won't you trust me? You were so good to me last summer when I... when I needed you." She blushed, but did not drop her eyes. "I only wish to be as much help to you."

  Darcy swallowed. He could not refuse such a request, but everything in him revolted at the notion of exposing his misfortune to anyone, even to his beloved sister. He thought
for a long moment and then said, "Do you recall me writing to you of Elizabeth Bennet last fall?"

  Georgiana tapped her chin and then smiled. "Was she not one of the young ladies you wished I could meet?"

  "She is." Darcy carefully considered his next words. "I have found myself thinking of her often, but... there are circumstances which are likely to prevent us from ever meeting again."

  Georgiana clasped her hands together on her lap. "Fitzwilliam, are you in love with her?"

  He shifted uneasily in his seat. It was this very question he had been trying to avoid, and in the end, he did not truly answer. "I will only say that I admire her more than any other female I have ever met, besides you and Mother."

  "And these... circumstances, they are what has been troubling you?"

  If by "circumstances" you mean my own foolish behavior. But this would tell Georgiana more than he wished her to know about the events of the spring, so he merely nodded and said, "They are."

  She frowned. "If you admire her so very much, I do not see why you do not find a way around them."

  Her innocence broke Darcy's heart. "You will find, dearest, that there are some things not even the stoutest heart can overcome."

  "I suppose," she said, but she still looked doubtful. "But what if you were to meet her again?"

  "That is unlikely ever to happen. The family is not often in town, and Hertfordshire is quite a ways away from Pemberley."

  "But if you were?" she pressed.

  "Please, Georgiana, I cannot consider it."

  The pain in his voice ended her questioning, and the carriage was silent for a good thirty minutes. "I am saddened I shall never meet Miss Elizabeth," Georgiana said finally. "I think, given your approbation, that I would like her very much."

  Darcy smiled sadly. "I believe you would, Georgiana. I believe you would like her very much indeed."

  Chapter Twenty-six

  To his surprise, Darcy found that sharing even a part of his burden with Georgiana helped. Some of his melancholy lifted, and by the end of July, he was able to look forward to the coming visit with Bingley with a degree of pleasure.

  He broached the subject with Georgiana in late July. "I invited Bingley and his sisters to join us here for a few weeks, in thanks for their hospitality last fall. Would you care to travel with me to London to bring them hither, or shall you stay here?"

  "I will come with you, I believe."

  "Good, I have a gift in mind for you, and it is one you had best choose for yourself."

  She wrinkled her nose. "A gift?"

  Darcy chuckled. "You will have to wait till we arrive in London to learn more--I must still have some power of surprising you."

  Georgiana attempted to wheedle more information out of Darcy for the next week, but he deflected every attempt. Thus, when their first stop in London was not Darcy House, but a renowned music shop, he was rewarded with a girlish squeal.

  "Oh, Fitzwilliam, are you sure? A new pianoforte? The one we have at Pemberley is perfectly suitable --"

  "-- for a novice," Darcy finished. "You, my dear sister, are no longer a novice. If you are to truly excel, we must get you a new instrument."

  The workshop owner was most solicitous, once he realized Darcy had every intention of making a purchase. Georgiana wandered the floor, stroking the veneer on this instrument, checking the action on another.

  Darcy observed that though she looked at all the pianofortes available, she came back to one over and over. After the fourth time, when she actually sat down and played for a few minutes, Darcy turned to the man and said, "I believe we have made our choice. You will see that it is delivered to Pemberley?" He wrote a bank draft and left directions to the estate, then he and Georgiana left.

  The coachman had hardly closed the door when she turned to Darcy, stars in her eyes. "Oh, Brother, you are too good to me! A Broadwood grand!"

  Darcy leaned back in the seat and smiled indulgently. "Even one as unmusical as myself could tell it produced the best sound, Georgiana. Will you be happy to find it in your music room when we return to Pemberley?" The smile on her face was all the answer he needed.

  Darcy stopped by Bingley's lodgings that night and found a warm welcome. "Darcy, I cannot tell you how glad I was to receive your letter last week, confirming your invitation to us. London has been quite dull this summer."

  "Surely you did not stay in town? Did the Hursts not invite you to join them?" Mr. Hurst owned a small estate in Richmond, and though it was not as fine as Pemberley, it at least would have been cooler than London.

  Bingley grimaced. "He did, but I only stayed a few weeks. It may surprise you, but even I grow weary of my sisters at times. I had thought to spend some energy looking for an estate of my own, but I will not be free of Netherfield until Michaelmas, and..."

  Darcy could easily fill in the blank--"and my last attempt to settle down did not end as I had hoped." He examined his friend closely and saw sadness behind the cheerful smile. He still regrets Miss Bennet. Never had Darcy felt the justice of Elizabeth's reproach so strongly, and were he but certain of the constancy of the lady's regard, he would have confessed all to his friend on the spot.

  Instead, he said, "Well, I hope you will not mind the presence of your sisters at Pemberley. I could not very well exclude them, when you all showed me such hospitality last autumn."

  Bingley laughed. "Even if I did mind, I would not dare suggest you exclude Caroline from Pemberley's hallowed grounds. I left Richmond in part to avoid her constant comments on the subject."

  Darcy groaned. "Perhaps we might stay in town and send the ladies on ahead?" he said, only half joking.

  Bingley shook his head, and Darcy was glad to see mischief in his eyes. "I fear the estate would be nothing without its master."

  "Very well, but you may warn her I have no intention of being monopolized. I will not be settling down anytime soon." He hid all traces of pain when he made that statement. "You will be ready to leave day after tomorrow?" Bingley nodded. "Good. Then I should go home to my supper."

  The party left London early in the morning, and they had not been on the road for an hour when Darcy realized how right Bingley's veiled warning had been. Miss Bingley would not allow anyone else to speak, and she would speak to none but him. In the closed environment of the carriage, Darcy could not ignore her without giving her the cut direct.

  By the time they reached the posting station where they took a light nuncheon, Darcy feared he could no longer withhold his scathing remarks. Therefore, he was glad to find a letter from his steward waiting for him.

  "What news is it, Mr. Darcy?" Miss Bingley purred. "Nothing that will postpone our visit, I hope."

  "What?" Darcy questioned sharply, and then regained control of his temper. "No, nothing as serious as that. However, my steward has some business he would like to discuss with me, and as I would prefer to be at leisure during your stay, I am sure you understand if I ride ahead and leave you to follow with the carriage."

  From her expression, he could see she did not know if she should be gratified he wished to have no entanglements during her visit, or put out that he would leave. Bingley's ready agreement robbed her of either option, and the matter was settled.

  After their repast, Bingley followed Darcy out to the stable where he mounted his horse. "Tell me truly, Darcy--will our visit inconvenience you in any way?"

  Darcy shook his head. "Not in the slightest. The matter with my steward is very minor and could in truth probably wait another day. However..." Darcy glanced back at the inn.

  "Ah, I see. You seek an escape from Caroline. Well, I cannot blame you there. We shall see you on the day after tomorrow."

  "Watch out for Georgiana for me--I am trusting you with her care."

  "Of course."

  On horseback, Darcy was able to cover half the remaining distance before nightfall. He spent the night at a small roadside inn where he was well known, and set out again at first light. The rolling hills of the Midland
s soon gave way to the more rugged countryside of Derbyshire, and Darcy spurred his horse on, eager to be at home.

  Darcy turned off the main road about half a mile from the Pemberley drive and followed a shortcut that led directly to the stables. He waved to the tenant farmers he passed along the way, but he did not stop. This close to home, he would not allow any delays.

  This approach gave the view of Pemberley from the side, with the stream seeming to flow out from the house itself. The first glimpse of Pemberley always filled Darcy with a combined sensation of pride and contentment, and latterly, a sense of longing. If I could see Elizabeth here...