Darcy's Heart

by Carrie Mollenkopf

  ~Twelve~

  Two days later….

  “I am glad you see the sense in this. Besides, it is not good to remain in one place for too long. The mind needs constant stimulation,” Darcy insisted.

  Charles Bingley sighed and nodded. Having believed the ball he hosted to be a grand success, it was with disbelief when Darcy informed him of how he was being manipulated. Now, as sheets draped the furnishings, he looked forward to a change of scenery. London, although stale through the late winter, would now be bustling with the warmth of early spring. There would be rides in open carriages and races in the park. It was just the thing to make him forget Jane Bennet. He had to admit, that his feelings for her remained strong, but if she did not return the same, all was futile. In truth, despite their jovial conversation, and common opinions, Jane had never seriously given him any reason to believe she could love him. Her smiles were genuine, and the touch of her hand on his arm had sent tremors of happiness, but was it enough? Having no assurances of her affection, it had been easy to quit Netherfield. In cowardice, Charles had even asked Caroline to write a short note, explaining their sudden departure.

  “Not to worry dear brother. I have it all in hand. Besides, I could not imagine having Mrs. Bennet or those younger girls in the family. They are positively horrid. Only Jane had any promise at all. Even Eliza Bennet bore the taint of coarseness.”

  Darcy, hearing the slight to the sole person whose company he would miss, forced himself to remain silent. He still suffered the results of an overindulgence of drink due to the lovely face of Elizabeth Bennet. Eventually it would pass, and she would only be a distant memory. Overall, he was pleased with the outcome of his actions, feeling positive that he had prevented a union that would only end in misery. However, Darcy had declined the offer to accompany the Bingleys to London. The possibility of encountering Esme Kirkwood was possible, and despite the diversion of Meryton, his heart was still to raw. Besides, with the Easter season approaching, it was time he made his annual visit to Rosings Park. As Aunt Catherine de Bourgh was his mother’s only sister, and a widow, he was obligated by familial duty to spend some weeks in her residence. It was only the accompaniment of Colonel Fitzwilliam that ever made the visits tolerable. But first, it was necessary that he go home to Pemberley. It had been some months since he was in residence and much needed his attention, including his sister, Georgiana.

  Smiling as he rode, Darcy imagined her pleasure when she discovered her birthday present. In a month, his little sister would be sixteen and quite grown up. Unfortunately, Georgiana Darcy had not the most usual upbringing. Orphaned in her infancy, she had never known the love of a mother. Nor, did she have any close siblings. He had been her guardian, a shared responsibility with Colonel Fitzwilliam since the death of their father. Feeling guilty for the amount of time she spent in the care of strangers, Darcy idly wondered what Georgiana would think if he married. Having nearly committed to an engagement, Darcy eventually gave in and informed Georgiana of recent events in his last letter. It had been difficult telling her that Esme Kirkwood had been the wrong choice. While he had omitted certain details, Darcy made it clear that he was no longer interested in marriage. At least that had been his intent before encountering Elizabeth Bennet. Having a great amount of solitude since leaving the Bingleys, his thoughts continually strayed to Elizabeth. Even when he counted off reasons why she was wholly inappropriate, something inside nagged him to throw them aside. Never before had he met someone so sure of who she was. Pushing his mount into a canter, Darcy removed his hat and allowed the fresh spring air clear his head. Daydreams, that was all they were, the imaginings of what could not be.

  *****

  After a night’s stay at a comfortable inn, Darcy completed his journey home and soon found himself swinging his sister off her feet in a great embrace. Weighing no more than a feather, it was their way of greeting since she was a child. Only now, corseted and laced, did Georgiana resist.

  “Oh! put me down! I am getting far too old for such antics,” she protested, but smiled all the while.

  “You will never be too old, and I will always be your elder brother. Allowances will be made! Has turning sixteen made you a proper young lady?”

  “Never! And I must thank you for my present. I have been trying to wait until you arrived, but I must confess to having given in to temptation. The deep resonance of the instrument is positively heavenly.”

  “Then I insist you play for me every day that I am here.”

  Georgiana paused and studied her brother. It had been some months since he was home and now it sounded like the visit was to be of short duration.

  “Don’t look at me that way… you know I must visit Aunt Catherine. Perhaps you would like to accompany me this time?” Darcy offered.

  Georgiana grimaced openly. The prospect of spending at least a fortnight in the domineering presence of Lady Catherine frightened her. The last time she visited Rosings still resonated in her memory. It was only the time spent with her cousin Anne that had made it tolerable.

  “I think not…I suppose I shall comfort myself with learning new music and awaiting your return. Although, I had rather expected you to come accompanied by Charles and Caroline. You know she has set her bonnet for you, especially now that…”

  Georgiana’s voice trailed. She had not wanted to mention Esme Kirkwood’s name should it cause her brother pain. However, he took both her hands in his and shook his head.

  “Not to worry. I am completely recovered from my foolishness, nor is Miss Bingley ever going to be mistress of Pemberley.”

  “That is a relief, but Aunt Catherine will be relentless in insisting you marry Anne. By now, word of your eligibility will have reached her.”

  Darcy winced. It seemed that nothing moved faster than gossip. His aunt had always harbored the belief that his mother’s dying wish was to see Anne and he married. However, there could not be a more incompatible match. Anne de Bourgh, silent and reserved in her mother’s presence, was a spitfire in private. Outspoken and opinionated, Darcy speculated that once Lady Catherine died, Anne would become a scandalous spectacle. On more than one occasion, when Lady Catherine had been absent, Anne had taken to wearing trousers and frequenting gaming halls disguised as a man. It was only fear of Lady Catherine’s rage that prevented anyone informing her of Anne’s actions. Having spirit was one thing, but his bride must also be a true lady. No, Anne was not the woman for him.

  “What is that face? Eventually, you must tell Aunt Catherine that you won’t marry Anne. What of this Elizabeth Bennet? Anyone worth mentioning in one of your letters must be worthy of consideration.”

  Although she had only been mentioned briefly, Georgiana knew that whomever Elizabeth Bennet was, she must be of importance, and seized the opportunity to pry information from her brother.

  “No… I am afraid that Miss Bennet is not for me either. It is unlikely that I shall see her again. For now, I belong entirely to you. Perhaps I shall remain a bachelor forever. We shall be two doddering old siblings prone to arguing over who gets the last biscuit.”

  This prospect sent Miss Darcy into a fit of laughter, but her brother only smiled for her benefit. The idea of spending the rest of his days alone was not appealing. Especially when the image of Elizabeth Bennet refused to leave his mind.

  ~Thirteen~

  Longbourn, one week later…

  While Darcy wrestled with feelings that refused him peace, Elizabeth Bennet struggled with her own troubles. Infuriated by the coldness of the Bingley’s departure, she did her best to console a broken-hearted Jane.

  “Did you say anything to give Mr. Bingley reason to believe you did not return his affection?” Elizabeth inquired gently after she had overheard Jane sobbing the previous evening.

  “I must have been mistaken, that is all. Perhaps if Mama had not been so outspoken…” Jane said quietly and tried to smile, but her eyes were filled with pain.

  Frustrated, Elizabeth knew it was no use to
confront her mother. Denial of any wrongdoing, and lengthy justification of any actions on her part would be heard by all if she dared. How was anyone to find a husband if one’s mother instantly shouted her opinions to the entire county? Besides, Mrs. Bennet was not the only person for whom Elizabeth held in blame for Jane’s misery. Mr. Darcy had directly asked her about a possible engagement. She had observed him carefully and noted every sneer and grim set of his countenance when her mother’s voice was heard. It was not as if any of the Bennets hid the fact that they were without dowry, but nor did they resort to coy behavior. Lydia and Kitty were flirtatious, but no more than what one would expect from girls their age. Her father was still a gentleman, and she a gentleman’s daughter, Mr. Darcy had no right to look down upon them. For all of his money, he lacked a decency necessary for a man to be truly a gentleman. After the departure, some of the regimental officers had been invited to tea. It was then that she learned more about the character of Mr. Darcy. Not only did he think himself above others, he held no qualms about refusing to honor a man’s dying wish. Poor Lieutenant Wickham had been used most disgracefully, despite his father’s lifetime of service to the Darcy family. If given the opportunity, Elizabeth would tell Darcy exactly what she thought of him. Now, as she reflected, the past few months seemed like an eternity. But today, at least one chapter of it was ending and another beginning. Charlotte Lucas had married Mr. Collins.

  It had come as a great surprise to all, especially Elizabeth. Just one day prior to the engagement being announced, Mr. Collins had proposed the same to Elizabeth herself. It had taken near rudeness to convince the silly man that they would make each other miserable. Abject poverty was preferable to being that man’s wife. But when the refusal had finally sunk in, Mr. Collins simply bowed and exited her presence. No one at Longbourn realized that he had immediately walked to Lucas Lodge and proposed to Charlotte. Even now, the idea of her closest friend marrying that toad, turned her stomach, but Elizabeth could not deny Charlotte’s logic in accepting.

  “I am twenty-seven years old, without beauty or money. If I don’t marry, I shall become a servant to my brother’s family. At least with Mr. Collins, I shall be mistress of my own home.”

  While her reasoning was sound, Elizabeth imagined the pudgy fingers of Mr. Collins pawing at her in the night and nearly became ill. Desperation was a terrible thing indeed.

  The ceremony had been blissfully short, with a cold luncheon afterwards the only celebration. Charlotte had not even bothered to wear any sort of wedding dress, choosing a plain day gown more appropriate to a funeral. A special license procured by the bishop allowed for an immediate wedding without banns being read. In reality, there would be no one to object to either party marrying in haste as the likelihood of any other agreement was nonexistent. And this morning, only one day after saying her vows, Charlotte left for a new home as a married lady. With a promise to visit in a few weeks, Elizabeth brushed back a tear as she waved Charlotte off. What should be a happy day only seemed to foretell misery.

  ~Fourteen~

  One month later….

  With estate business complete, and his sister visiting their only uncle, Darcy found himself seated most disagreeably beside his aunt Catherine as she bellowed her disapproval for recent events. Conveniently, his cousin Anne was absent, leaving Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam entirely at her mercy.

  “I still cannot believe it myself. Of course, it was upon my recommendation that Mr. Collins go to Longbourn with the sole purpose of acquiring a wife, I had fully expected him to see the merit of marrying on of the Bennet girls. It would make for good family relations, but that was before I learned of how inappropriate they were. Had I known, I should have arranged for one of our local unmarried women to marry him. Now he has returned with someone entirely different. She is the plainest of creatures and hardly says a word of intelligent conversation, simply agreeing with whatever he wants. A vicar’s wife needs to have strength of purpose, not timid compliance. What was he thinking? I should have turned him out immediately, but it is so difficult to get qualified vicars that are not spouting some new-fashioned nonsense. To make matters worse, they actually have the very Bennet girl that refused Mr. Collins as a houseguest! Strange indeed. I insisted they come to dine at least three times a week since her arrival so I may interfere if necessary. From the first moment I laid eyes upon her, I saw trouble. The insolent girl dares to speak to me as if we are equals. There is nothing more offensive to propriety than one who does not know their place! But you shall see for yourself. They are expected to arrive shortly. Hrmph!”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had arrived at Rosings a week before Darcy, had been delighted to reacquaint himself with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. From his social encounters in Meryton with the Bennet family, he considered her quite the best of the lot. While her elder sister Jane was indeed a rare beauty, she lacked the spirit of Elizabeth. In her company, he cursed his lot as a younger son, for had he a fortune, or she in possession of such, an offer of marriage would have been issued long before now. During his aunt’s diatribe on the life of her vicar, Fitzwilliam watched Darcy’s face for any reaction. He had not witnessed Darcy demonstrate such in interest in a woman since the Esme Kirkwood disaster, but that was practically ancient history. When Darcy had arrived, Fitzwilliam informed him of some news from London that he hoped would erase her memory forever.

  “Have you heard that Esme Kirkwood has married?”

  Darcy frowned despite his attempt to appear unaffected.

  “No. Was it to someone we know?”

  “A doddering old friend of her father’s. Lord Everfield or something like that…I thought you would be amused.”

  “Everfield? As in Gordon Everfield? He must be nearly eighty! Well, I gather she has gotten what she wanted. Good luck to her.”

  “That is rather charitable of you.”

  “I truly do not hold any residual feelings towards her. In hindsight, I don’t believe that I ever had anything remotely resembling love.”

  “Hmm. Well you did seem rather besotted at the time.”

  “I will kindly ask you to forget that. Everyone is a fool at one time or another. Fortunately, mine resulted in no permanent damage, and that reminds me, I owe you a bit of thanks for arranging the duty roster in Meryton.”

  “Think nothing of it. The idea of Wickham in the same room galls me as well. Don’t forget, I am joint guardian to Georgiana.”

  “Never, and you have done your duty admirably.”

  Fitzwilliam let the matter drop, but now that Aunt Catherine had mentioned Mrs. Collins’ guest, he swore that Darcy’s mouth twitched as if repressing a smile. Was he pleased by the news?

  “You are far to silent! I insist you give me your attentions.” Lady Catherine insisted to her nephews, but any reply was lost by the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Collins and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  Rising to greet them, Darcy bowed to Miss Bennet’s curtsey, and politely asked after her family. The responses, curt and without elaboration, demonstrated a thinly veiled resentment as if he had somehow intruded.

  “And your sister Jane? She is well?”

  “Jane has been in London these past weeks.”

  “Oh? I was not aware. I have been home, at Pemberley since leaving Netherfield, tending to estate business.”

  “I suppose that has kept you rather busy, an obligation not shared by Mr. Bingley.”

  “Er, no, I do not believe he has settled on a property. Did you sister call upon Caroline while in London? They appeared to get on well.”

  “Jane would tell you that the company of the devil himself was pleasant, but no… apparently Miss Bingley was not in residence any of the times Jane called… rather convenient of her.”

  “I know they keep a crowded social calendar, perhaps your sister was unlucky.”

  “Perhaps… or it could be that it was to Jane’s good fortune that the acquaintance was not renewed.”

  Darcy noted the spark of anger in Elizabeth’s e
ye, but could not query further as his aunt would not be left out of their conversation. Peering through a monocle, Lady Catherine frowned at the intimacy of Miss Bennet and her nephew. Who did that girl think she was to monopolize his attentions?

  “Miss Bennet, I must have some music. There is no one who appreciates it more than me, but unfortunately, I never had the time to learn. My social obligations were too consuming. Surely your mother was not remiss in that aspect of your education?”

  “No Madam, but I fear that her instruction was not met with equal talent. I play quite poorly.”

  “No matter, I insist. Colonel Fitzwilliam can turn the pages for you. Darcy, come to my side. There is a matter of some importance which I must discuss with you.”

  Darcy would have sworn that if appropriate, Elizabeth would have laughed outright as she removed herself to the pianoforte, leaving him to attend his aunt. While Miss Bennet escaped, he must bear the old woman’s scrutiny.

  “Yes, Aunt? Is there some financial matter of concern?”

  “Financial? Of course not, I am well capable of managing my own fortune. It is the matter of your marriage that consumes my mind. When will an announcement of your engagement to Anne be made?”

  Darcy sighed, he had never taken the supposed arrangement seriously, nor had Anne. Had his mother lived, no doubt any supposition to the suggestion would have been dispelled. It would have been beneficial if Anne was the one to voice a refusal, but she had long since given up holding any semblance of reasonable conversation with her mother. Darcy had often wondered if Anne’s peculiar and often radical behavior was in retaliation to her mother’s constant control. Not that it mattered, he was not going to marry his cousin, not now and not ever. Clearing his throat, he voiced the rehearsed response.