Hypothetically Married

by Renata McMann

  The smile that flittered across her lips was smug. “Only the income. It was set up that way.”

  “That’s unusual,” Darcy commented.

  Elizabeth’s smile widened slightly. “Yes, but practical if you’d known my mother.”

  “Your mother?”

  She nodded. “My mother was a poor manager. I think my father and my uncles felt we would be safer if the money was tied up. I daresay they worried we’d inherited her incompetence, and for some of my sisters that may be true. My father knew he was dying. His will set up a trust.”

  “That is fortunate.” Her father sounded like an intelligent man, even if he’d obviously married an impractical woman. “I’m still confused as to how your uncle could withhold money to pay Mr. Wickham’s debts.” Better to puzzle over that than to dwell on Elizabeth missing a wise father, or even a silly mother.

  “The money was divided in two.” Elizabeth’s tone betrayed mild amusement for his line of questioning. “The larger part went to produce income. The smaller part is for Mr. Phillips to use for our wellbeing. He has a great deal of discretion with that money.”

  A particularly strong gust of wind battered them. Darcy angled his body, shielding Elizabeth from the brunt, even as an inexplicably worry shot through him. He had only a vague recollection of this Mr. Phillips. Could the man be trusted with Elizabeth’s money and wellbeing? Mustering a casual tone, Darcy said, “I suppose he could charge the estate for your care.”

  “He does.”

  Darcy’s worry mounted. “Oh?”

  “Yes, indeed. While we are given allowances, which we use for our clothing and spending money, Uncle Phillips pays himself a full twenty-five pounds a year.” Elizabeth cast him a look that mixed laughter and scrutiny in equal measures. “That is twenty-five pounds for all of us, five pounds apiece.”

  The tension in Darcy’s chest eased. “He isn’t making a profit off you.”

  “He claims he is.” Her smile slipped again. “For a while, after Father died, I was so upset that I wasn’t eating properly. Uncle Phillips told me I had to eat so he could justify charging us.”

  A good man, then, to notice his niece wasn’t eating and to try, however fumblingly, to set the matter right. Her father must not have been gone for too long, or else she loved him dearly. Even in profile, he could read the pain in her eyes. The wind blew harder again, a steady stream this time.

  Darcy brought them to a halt, so he could turn his back fully to the gusts to shield her. Her hand remained on his arm, bringing them quite close. Her hem danced, swirling out to brush his legs.

  He looked down into her heart-shaped face and found himself saying, “I’m glad you didn’t waste away.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes went wide with surprise. A frown touched the corners of her lips. The quickly rising wind buffeted Darcy’s back, pushing him toward her. He issued a silent curse. What had possessed him to say such a thing to a woman he did not wish to encourage?

  “Darcy, Miss Elizabeth.”

  It was Searle’s voice. Darcy looked up the path to find him and Anne coming back toward them. Searle had his arm about Darcy’s slender cousin, holding her up against the wind. With both hands, Anne clutched his forearm. They reached Darcy and Elizabeth and clustered close.

  “I don’t like the look of those clouds, Darcy,” Searle said, pointing behind Darcy. “There’s a storm coming in. I think we must cut our walk short. There’s a shortcut to the street through that grove. We sent one of Miss de Bourgh’s footmen to have the horses and the ladies’ carriage brought. They apparently arrived together from Miss de Bourgh’s.”

  Elizabeth looked past Darcy, toward the storm gathering at his back, then to Searle. “I think that’s a good idea. Thank you.”

  Anne offered Elizabeth a small smile. Darcy realized his cousin was shivering. She’d released Searle’s arm upon reaching them and now clutched her cloak closed. Behind her, Bingley and Miss Bennet appeared around a bend in the path, hurrying toward them. Miss Bennet’s skirt whipped about her ankles. Bingley escorted her with one arm and had his other raised, hand on his hat to hold it to his head.

  “In view of today’s outing being curtailed, I should like to invite you all to dine at my home tomorrow evening,” Searle said, watching Bingley and Miss Bennet make their way toward them. He gestured up and down the path. “Mr. Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss Bennet and Miss Kitty as well, of course. Though I haven’t been introduced to the whole party yet, any companion of yours and Miss de Bourgh’s is welcome in my home.”

  Anne offered him a pleased smile.

  Taking Searle’s hint, Darcy introduced him to Elizabeth, as well as to Bingley and Miss Bennet, who reached them during that introduction. By the time he was through, Richard and Miss Kitty had caught up to where they all stood. They inserted themselves between Darcy and Elizabeth, depriving him of her hand on his arm, and more introductions were in order. Before those were concluded, snowflakes began to swirl about them.

  “I rather think we should go,” Anne said, her teeth chattering. “But not our separate ways. Not yet.”

  Darcy turned to her, curious as to what she had in mind.

  “Mr. Searle, if you are serious about my coming to dinner—”

  “I most assuredly am serious about any and all things having to do with you, Miss de Bourgh.”

  Anne’s eyes brightened, but she frowned. “Yes, well, in view of that, you’d best come meet my mother. Then you may decide the seriousness of your offer.”

  Searle looked to Darcy, questioning.

  “A good idea,” Richard interjected. “If you associate with Anne, you must acquaint yourself with Lady Catherine. She is, ah, an acquired taste.”

  Darcy could tell by the amusement in Elizabeth’s eyes that she’d met his aunt and agreed with Richard. He’d no idea the Bennet sisters were so familiar with his family. He felt a surge of annoyance, as if he’d been deliberately excluded from something he wished to be a party to. “To Aunt Catherine’s, then?”

  Searle shrugged. “I see no reason why not. I’m sure the lady is charming.”

  Richard snorted. He offered his arm to Miss Kitty again.

  “There will be cakes,” Miss Kitty said brightly, accepting Richard’s arm. “Lady Catherine always has the best cakes.”

  Bingley shook his head.

  “You will come with us, Mr. Bingley?” Miss Bennet asked.

  Bingley’s amusement immediately melted into adoration. “Certainly. If I am invited?”

  “You are all invited,” Anne said. “Only, let us hurry.” Snowflakes had settled on the hood of her cloak.

  “This way,” Searle said to the group at large. “We’ve ordered the horses and carriage brought.”

  He led the way. Richard and Miss Kitty followed, then Bingley and Miss Bennet. Alone again with Elizabeth, Darcy was almost reluctant to offer his arm. To do so would be to follow the others. Despite the gusting wind, the cold and the swirling snow, he would rather remain in the park with her than enter a full parlor for tea. Especially with his aunt.

  Elizabeth turned to him, expectant. Darcy dutifully offered his arm. Even if they were going toward the others, it was pleasant to have her beside him once more.

  Chapter Ten

  Darcy and Elizabeth walked the brief distance to the waiting horses and carriage in silence. Darcy handed her into the vehicle before accepting his mount from his groom. He was aware of a slight glower from Anne’s footmen. Whether for Searle’s marked attention to Anne or Darcy’s lack thereof, he didn’t deign to care.

  The ride through London’s oftentimes choked, snowy streets was slow, giving Darcy plenty of time to think. The gentlemen followed the carriage, and even though he couldn’t see Elizabeth within, he was very much aware of her presence. With her right before him, it was impossible to keep her from his mind.

  She’d done none of the things women normally did around him. Not only had she been visibly dismayed to meet him, she hadn’t made any atte
mpt to impress him. Her words and actions has been singularly non-flirtatious, in no way coy or leading. Instead, she’d been frank and honest. He could only conclude, as impossible as it seemed, that despite his fortune and her lack thereof, for the funds he estimated her to have did not a true heiress make, Elizabeth Bennet did not wish to ensnare him.

  A wry smile twisted his lips. It was a bit of a blow to his ego to learn, in the same day, of two women who didn’t wish to marry him. Before now, he’d been under the oft-collaborated supposition they all did.

  There was an advantage to Elizabeth’s disinterest in him, he realized. He could relax with her and not worry about raising expectations that wouldn’t be met. He could appreciate her without being concerned about hurting her. Perhaps they would not see each other often, but when he did see her, he could simply enjoy himself.

  By the time they reached his aunt’s London home, Darcy was pleased with his relationship with Elizabeth, such as it was. It would be a relief to be able to enjoy her wit and, frankly, her beauty, without temptation or worry. He had few companions he could be unguarded with. She made an excellent addition to that rather small company.

  They were all shown in, introductions made, and tea called for. To Darcy’s surprise, Elizabeth’s uncle, Mr. Phillips, was there. It was soon apparent that Anne and the three Bennet sisters were expected to take tea with him and Lady Catherine after their walk. Surprisingly, it seemed as if Mr. Phillips had accompanied his nieces to Lady Catherine’s and been chatting with her the entire time Anne and the three sisters were walking. Darcy would have thought Mr. Phillips to be someone Lady Catherine would disdain, but she seemed quite friendly toward the little man.

  Once tea was served and talk died down slightly as everyone ate, Miss Kitty taking a plate full of cakes, Anne turned to her mother. “Mother, Mr. Searle has invited me, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Kitty, Darcy, Richard and Mr. Bingley to dine with him tomorrow evening.”

  Darcy carefully set down his cup. He took in the ponderous frown his aunt turned on Searle, the way her gaze then swept across the rest of them, assessing. When it was his turn, Darcy met her look without expression.

  “May we go, Uncle?” Elizabeth asked Mr. Phillips.

  “Of course, you may.” He inclined his head to Searle. “On behalf of my nieces, I thank you for the generous invitation.”

  “You, and they, are most welcome,” Searle replied.

  “Mother?” Anne prompted.

  Lady Catherine turned to scrutinize Searle. “They say you inherited a great deal of money from your father. Money that was expected to go to your older brother.”

  Darcy winced. He saw Bingley’s surprise, and Richard’s silent sigh. Elizabeth smiled.

  “That’s true,” Mr. Searle said, tone bland.

  “So, you neither earned your fortune nor were brought up to manage it,” Lady Catherine observed. “Either would recommend you, but you have neither.”

  Searle plucked a small cake from his plate and put it in his mouth.

  “Well?” Lady Catherine demanded.

  “Aunt Catherine,” Richard said, tone dismayed.

  “Well?” she repeated, glaring at Searle.

  Anne looked back and forth between the two, expression strained.

  Searle swallowed. “I beg your pardon, Lady Catherine?”

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Actually, I believe you made a statement.” Searle ate another cake.

  Elizabeth blotted her mouth with her napkin. Around the edges, Darcy could still see her grin. Miss Bennet watched with wide, worried eyes. Miss Kitty appeared oblivious as she applied herself to her plate of cakes. Mr. Phillips looked on, exuding quiet self-possession.

  Lady Catherine glowered at Searle. “How much did you inherit?”

  “Mother,” Anne gasped.

  “Enough so that I don’t have to worry about money.” Searle set down his plate.

  “Humph.” Lady Catherine angled her nose into the air. “A sizable fortune, then, but from trade, which I assume you still dabble in.”

  Searle’s brows shot up. “I still own two mills and four ships, but I’ve sold most of the other businesses.” His tone was perfectly polite. “So, I suppose, now, it is merely dabbling.”

  Lady Catherine shot Anne a smug look. “With all that trade in your background, I’m surprised you can mix in polite society.”

  Mr. Searle replied with a small shrug.

  Darcy, thoroughly embarrassed by his aunt’s display, sought about for a change of subject. Unfortunately, his mind offered no ideas, refusing to consider anything but how her behavior must look to Elizabeth. He sent Anne a hopeful look. She appeared more resigned than embarrassed and not ready to speak.

  “These cakes are simply delicious, Lady Catherine,” Miss Kitty said. She turned to Richard. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, don’t you feel your aunt serves the best cakes in all of London?”

  “Perhaps in all of England,” Richard concurred.

  “I heartily agree,” Bingley said, but his bravado sounded forced.

  “They’re cakes,” Lady Catherine stated flatly. She turned back to Searle. “Were you educated at home?”

  “No.”

  “Where then?”

  “Eton and Oxford.”

  “You must have found it difficult to be accepted with your background in trade.”

  Searle cast Darcy a beseeching look. He shrugged and turned to Richard. He was usually best at handling their aunt.

  “Aunt Catherine, weren’t you telling me you planned to attend the theatre yesterday evening?” Richard asked. “How did you find the performance?”

  Lady Catherine didn’t take her hawk-like gaze from Searle. “Did you find it difficult to be accepted at school?”

  Searle looked to Anne. Her shrug matched Darcy’s earlier one. Darcy frowned. Were he and Anne truly so cowed by Lady Catherine? No wonder his aunt felt she could force them to marry.

  “I suspect most boys find it difficult to adjust to school,” Searle finally said.

  “You did not answer my question.” Lady Catherine’s accusation rang with triumph.

  Searle flung up his hands. “Yes, I found it difficult. Where were you educated? How much money did you inherit?”

  “How dare you speak to me that way,” Lady Catherine cried.

  “I thought we were interrogating one another,” Searle shot back.

  Darcy winced. Elizabeth clutched her napkin to her face. Sputtering sounds, suspiciously like laughter, emerged. Miss Bennet and Miss Kitty turned to her in concern. She waved them away.

  Lady Catherine huffed. “I have a right to question you before I give consent for Anne to visit you.”

  Searle eyed her for a long moment. “You do have that right, and doing so would be appropriate, but your questions aren’t related to her dining in my home. I am most likely the richest person in this room. Other than that, you do not need any more information.”

  Lady Catherine sniffed again. “There is money, and there is breeding,” she said disdainfully.

  “Aunt Catherine, really,” Richard exclaimed.

  About the parlor, most of the guests were doing their best to look small, with the exception of Searle, Mr. Phillips and Elizabeth. She still struggled to stifle her amusement at the farce Darcy’s aunt was enacting. Mr. Phillips calmly sipped his tea.

  Darcy’s frown deepened. He shouldn’t permit his aunt to treat his acquaintance so poorly. From now on, he would be more assertive with her, even if he had to endure her rants. “Aunt Catherine, Mr. Searle’s character is not in question,” Darcy stated.

  “Of course, it is,” Lady Catherine snapped. “I will question the character of any man who comes here, hounding around Anne, especially one whose fortune comes from trade.”

  “Hounding around?” Anne cried. “Mother, really, how can you be so vulgar? Furthermore, all Mr. Searle did was invite me to dinner along with my cousins and friends. What harm is there in that?”

  �
�That you don’t know means you aren’t safe from it,” Lady Catherine said.

  “Lady Catherine.” Searle’s tone was crisp. “I will concede you have every right to see that your daughter is safe, both physically and socially. If you wish to send your two fine footmen and perhaps another couple of footmen and a maid or two to ensure Miss de Bourgh’s safety, please do so. I assume her cousins and friends will see that she doesn’t get into a social situation which would reflect on her reputation.”

  Lady Catherine glared at him. “You are a terribly rude young man, even ruder than one expects from someone sullied with trade.”

  Bingley choked on his tea.

  “Anne will never attend dinner, or any other event, at your home,” Lady Catherine continued. “Ever. Do I make myself clear?”

  The room erupted into a chaos of words. Elizabeth murmured something Darcy couldn’t catch over his own protestations, her tone droll. Richard was proclaiming loudly about the fallacy of making sweeping judgments. Searle’s sharp reply was fortunately lost amid the voices of the others. Bingley continued to cough, while Miss Bennet tried to ascertain the extent of his distress. Miss Kitty, eyes round, popped another cake into her mouth.

  Anne came to her feet. “You are wrong, Mother.” Her angry words rang out above the rest. “I will go to Mr. Searle’s house for dinner.”

  “Anne.” Lady Catherine glared at her daughter. “Sit back down.”

  Anne jutted her narrow chin into the air at the same angle Lady Catherine often employed. “I am of age. I will go where I please and with whom I wish.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Lady Catherine snapped. “You cannot defy me.”

  Mr. Phillips carefully placed his cup and saucer on the low table between the couches. “Perhaps not, but she seems to be trying to do so,” he said in a placating tone. “If I may suggest, send your two footmen and let me go as your representative.” He glanced at Mr. Searle. “I know your invitation did not include me, but if you would invite me, it might put Lady Catherine’s mind at ease. She has been telling me that she’s delighted her daughter is showing independence and initiative in making friends with the Bennet sisters.” He turned a firm look on Lady Catherine. “It would be a shame to stifle that.”