by Pamela Lynne
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said with equal emotion. “I really do love him.”
“Of course you do. He is a good man. Colonel Fitzwilliam seems to be a nice man as well, very handsome and friendly. I would have thought him good for Jane if things were different.”
Elizabeth embraced her aunt once again. While in the throes of her own heartache and grief, she had not thought how Jane’s actions had hurt not only her but her aunt and uncle as well.
“I, too, had that thought. Even after everything that happened, I wish I could share my joy and good fortune with my family, or at least with the family I thought I had.”
“I am afraid the pain of Jane’s betrayal will never completely leave you, my dear. It will lessen over time. Hopefully, you will see her again one day and be able to ask her why.”
She could see her aunt dismiss whatever she was feeling about Jane in order to focus on her. The unselfishness and generosity she always managed to put forth would forever amaze Elizabeth.
“You look lovely.” She looked over her niece’s gown. “You made an excellent choice. This is a very important outing, you know.”
The evening before, as they enjoyed conversation after dinner, Darcy suggested they all go shopping the next morning, this time in his neighborhood.
“How so? Mr. Darcy just wants to take me back to the bookshop since he interrupted me last time.”
“No, my dear, it is not that simple. You will walk down Bond Street with him and his closest relations. You will enter shops that cater to exclusive clientele, who will see you on his arm. He is not just taking you shopping; he is introducing you to the ton.”
********
The carriage drove down the city street steady to its purpose. Anne sat, hands clutched to her seat, with her insides twisting. She was traveling further from her home and closer to his, and with every turn of the wheel, her heart twisted further. She wondered, not for the first time in her life, why fate had led her to this.
Until the age of eleven, Anne enjoyed a pleasant childhood. Her parents were fond of each other, adored her, and indulged her every whim. She detested reading and learning and escaped her governess as often as she could to roam the gardens and tend the roses she had helped plant. She was spoiled and stupid, but not mean-spirited, and she got on well with other children, especially her cousins.
In fact, at one point, she considered herself the most fortunate girl in England to have such brave and true older cousins at her disposal. It was the summer they spent in Scotland when the honorable knights, Fitzwilliam and Darcy, protected her from the evil dragon, Sebastian, who threatened to gobble her up and steal her fortune. They spent every summer together, more often than not at Pemberley. The last summer she was there, her mother told her that next year she would have a new cousin to play with. Her Aunt Anne was having another baby, and the child would be very special since it took nearly twelve years to make.
There would be no more carefree summers for Anne after that year. Her father collapsed one afternoon while visiting tenants and never awoke. Then her aunt died a few weeks after giving birth to a fragile little girl. Her mother was devastated, and when Anne contracted a fever just a month later, she was terrified she would lose her as well.
Anne survived but was left weakened and vulnerable to additional illness. She spent the rest of her childhood and much of her adolescence in the sick bed, watching the seasons change from her window, never actively participating in the world around her. The air that surrounded her was always thick with pity, both from others and herself, and she was slowly suffocated. She had no visitors other than the parson and servants, and the letters from her cousins that had been eagerly anticipated dwindled to one or two a year. Many nights, she wondered why the fever had not taken her, why she had been chosen to live in a broken body, friendless and dependent.
Her mother, who had always been doting, became fanatical about her care. She was cautious, perhaps more than she needed to be, and kept Anne at Rosings, fearing travel would kill her or make her worse. The year she turned seventeen, when she should have come out into society, her mother began speaking of an engagement between her and her cousin. It was subtle at first, and Anne did not give it much attention, but as the years went on, her mother spoke of it more, believing it to be inevitable.
When her current companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, was hired, Anne had slipped further into despair. The older woman, who had herself lived through a childhood illness, encouraged Anne to be more active in her daily life. Though she still needed long periods of rest, she was eventually able once again to tend the roses and learn how to drive a phaeton. The more she did, the more she wanted to do. She was learning how to manage her limitations, but she found she could not manage her mother. As good as it felt to enjoy some modicum of normalcy, her mother’s controlling nature made it difficult to continue.
With the support of her companion, Anne finally summoned the courage to confront her mother and insist she allow her more freedom to enjoy life. Unfortunately, that was also the day a letter arrived from London. Darcy asked her mother to come to town to discuss some important family business. Lady Catherine was sure he was ready to declare himself, even though the letter made no mention of Anne or their supposed engagement.
Not since the fever, had Anne felt so close to death. The thought of marrying Darcy made her blood grow cold. They had been close as children, but she felt he had abandoned her after her illness. She heard from him only on her birthday and at Christmas, and his Easter visits were torturous. He never looked at her, not even when he spoke, and it made her feel as if she were no better than the furniture on which she was sitting. She would rather die than face a lifetime of feeling inconsequential.
“Mother, I cannot do this. I think I am going to be sick.”
“We are nearly there, Anne. I know you are nervous, but try to stay calm. It will not do to be ill when he greets us.”
“Can we not go to our townhouse first and rest? Surely this business can wait until tomorrow,” Anne pleaded, hoping to find a way to escape.
“No, child. I have not been there in years and have leased it. We must stay with your betrothed.”
“Mama, please.”
“Anne,” Lady Catherine spoke with finality. “This is the way it has to be.”
********
Darcy sat at his desk with his head leaned back against his chair, a soft smile forming on his lips. He was reliving the events of the morning. Elizabeth was amazing. She managed the cattiness of the ton as if she had lived in it for years. She met every slight and disdainful look with the same cool civility Darcy and Georgiana used but added a smile and a witty comment that would go right over the offender’s head, making the entire scene a joke for her companions. She explained it was the same technique she used with her mother over the years. The old bats of London had nothing on Fanny Bennet when it came to attempts to make her feel low and unworthy, so she was well prepared.
Darcy felt a thrill of excitement and pride every time he introduced Elizabeth as his betrothed. He would have done so regardless, but it was especially important to supply the gossips with confirmation of their engagement, in case a rumor of an understanding with Collins ever reached London.
During their excursion, he took great care to notice her likes and dislikes. She purchased very little for herself, but whenever she lingered over an object a little longer than the rest, he would discreetly ask the clerk to wrap it up and send it to Darcy House. He would give her these things over the course of their engagement, but he wanted to give her something more meaningful to celebrate their engagement.
He stood and walked to the back of the room and opened the safe. He took out a box containing the majority of the Darcy jewels and returned to his desk. He let out a sigh and opened the box to gaze upon its contents, some of which were over a century old. He had thought to give Elizabeth his mother’s ring, but the sapphires that had looked lovely on his mother, seemed too cold for his betrothed. His fin
gers lightly grazed over the other rings, finally resting on one that belonged to his grandmother. He picked it up and moved closer to the fire so he could examine it more closely.
The center stone was a large round ruby and was flanked by smaller round diamonds with more small diamonds encased in the band. It was simple enough to suit Elizabeth’s tastes yet was appropriate for their station in society. He was contemplating how to present it to her when he heard a knock on his door.
“Enter.”
His butler entered and, with a little weariness displayed in his voice, spoke.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter have arrived, sir. They await your company in the blue sitting room.”
Darcy’s shoulders slumped, and he placed the ring in his pocket. He had been expecting her arrival but was not looking forward to this confrontation. Truth be told, it should have happened years ago, but he had only recently found his courage.
“Why did you take them there? We almost never use that room.”
“Your aunt requested it, sir. She also ordered tea and for their rooms to be prepared.”
Darcy sighed. “Yes, go ahead, and see to those things, and inform my aunt I will be there shortly.”
“Very well, sir,” he said as he looked at the box on Darcy’s desk. He hesitated before saying, “Sir, please forgive the impropriety of my saying so, but your visitor yesterday, Miss Bennet, seems like a lovely young woman. The maid who accompanied her had very nice things to say about her.” He was not direct with his question, but his voice as well as his body language seemed to be asking something only a well-seasoned servant would dare.
Darcy’s lips twitched, but he tried to contain his amusement, not wanting his faithful servant, whom he believed to be older than God, to feel offended. He knew what the man was about, however, and decided to take pity on him.
“I am glad you think so, Jennings, since she will soon be mistress of the house.”
“That is wonderful news, sir,” he said, visibly relieved. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I shall formally introduce her to the senior staff when she and her family come to dinner on Tuesday.”
Jennings straightened his shoulders as much as he could. “Very good, sir. I believe I can handle your aunt better now that I know she will be a visitor, not a permanent fixture.” With that, he left, and Darcy believed he heard him mumbling something about an old cow. Perhaps it was time to speak to him about retirement.
********
Lady Catherine sat next to her daughter on the settee and watched her out of the corner of her eye. Her pale face held the look of a frightened child, and for a brief moment, Lady Catherine allowed doubt and guilt to settle in her mind. She reached over and took her chilled hand then looked down at her waif-like frame. She loved her so much. She knew she was making Anne unhappy by encouraging marriage with Darcy, but happiness could be learned. Protection and care were more important, and she knew she could trust Darcy to provide both of those things for Anne.
The ladies rose when Darcy entered the room, and he offered them a lukewarm welcome. His back was straight and stiff, and his emotions were hidden firmly behind his defensive glare. His demeanor, Anne noticed, was cold, even for Darcy. It gave her a glimmer of hope.
“Aunt Catherine, I appreciate you coming here to London. As I said in my letter, there are things we need to discuss, but I could not leave town at present.”
“Of course, Darcy. We are family, and if you need me, I will always try to be of service, just as you would do for us.”
Lady Catherine spoke to her nephew with genuine fondness, but her voice was shaky. She suspected something was amiss by his demeanor and worried how whatever it was could affect Anne. She inhaled deeply in an effort to regain control and spoke again in her usual terse manner.
“I suppose you have summoned us here to discuss your betrothal to Anne.”
“You mean your assumed betrothal, the one I never agreed to? Indeed, I would like to discuss that.”
Darcy had begun to soften when he glimpsed at Anne then heard the affection, though brief, in his aunt’s voice. She and his mother had been close, and he had always thought highly of her, until he came of age and she began hinting at a match between him and Anne. It hurt him deeply that his aunt was acting no better than all the rest of the fortune-hunting mamas of the ton. He began to view her and Anne the same way he did all the others and treated them accordingly.
“What do you mean assumed, Darcy?” Catherine began coolly. “Your mother and I planned the union when you were children.” Her tone of voice and the mention of his mother, who only ever wanted him to be happy, stirred his anger.
“How odd then that neither of my parents ever mentioned it to me. I have only ever heard it from you, Lady Catherine. You have not asked me to go over the books at Rosings for a number of years now. Has it been as mismanaged as Matlock? Do you need my money so desperately that would disregard my happiness in order to claim it?”
Anne was dumbfounded. His words had, at first, relieved her apprehension, but as he went on, he became cruel. For all her mother’s faults, she was never so selfish and greedy as Darcy implied. She looked to Lady Catherine and saw the unguarded hurt in her eyes. This strong and noble lady who had sacrificed so much for her daughter’s well-being was being spoken to as if she were some average woman of the ton with an ugly daughter to marry off. Anne was angry.
“How dare you, Darcy!” Anne’s meek voice, though still soft, took on a harshness that surprised both her companions.
“Who do you think you are to speak to my mother in such a fashion? I know you believe yourself far superior to the rest of us mere mortals, Cousin, but I find your manners severely lacking.”
Darcy sat on the edge of his seat and looked upon his cousin in awe. He had not heard Anne speak so many words in years, and never with such force.
“Anne, I know you are disappointed in your hopes to be my wife, but perhaps you should calm before you make yourself ill.”
Anne’s blood was racing, and for the first time in her life, she felt tempted to strike someone.
“You, sir, are arrogant and presumptuous. Not every woman is eager to fall at your feet. If you had ever bothered to speak to me about it, as a gentleman should, you would know that I would never want to be married to a conceited, egotistical man such as yourself.”
Darcy’s anger at Anne’s insults was beginning to get the best of him. He rose and began pacing to try to work off the emotion before he said something he would later regret. Lady Catherine was trying, unsuccessfully, to calm her daughter.
“No, Mother. He has had nothing to say to me for the past ten years, but he will listen to me now. You should know that Rosings is thriving. Mother has managed it better than even my father could, and she has no need for your money. Her wish to see us marry is based solely in her desire to see me cared for. She was wrong to try to push this on us, but you were wrong to assume I wanted it as well.
“We were friends once, Darcy, but your conceit, your arrogance, and your selfish disdain for my feelings is why you are the last man on earth I could ever be prevailed upon to marry. Indeed, no self-respecting woman would.”
That last comment hit its mark, cutting Darcy to the core, as the truth usually does. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came forth. Anne slumped into the sofa and held her head in her hands. Her mother stroked her back, trying to get her to calm.
“I am well, Mother, but I do need to rest.”
Finally finding his voice, Darcy came forward. “I will help you up the stairs, Anne.”
“You will not.” Anne’s body had given out on her, but her anger was resilient. “I may have to sleep in your home, but I will crawl up those stairs before I ask for your help.”
“You are not crawling anywhere, Annie,” declared a gentle voice as two strong arms scooped her up. Richard and Georgiana had been enjoying quiet conversation in her sitting room when they heard raised voices. They arriv
ed in time to hear the end of Anne’s rant.
“Richard,” she whispered into his chest as he carried her up the steps with Lady Catherine and Georgiana following behind. “Darcy is an ass.”
Richard laughed. “Yes, he is, Annie. You can tell me all about it in the morning.” Richard laid her gently on the bed then excused himself. He went downstairs to find his cousin had already departed, presumably to Gracechurch Street.
********
Darcy leaned into the doorway and let the sight in front of him ease his weary mind. Elizabeth was at the pianoforte, oblivious to the world around her. Her eyes were closed, and she was swaying gently. The piece she was playing was affecting her in a meaningful way. Darcy hoped she was thinking of him.
He spent the carriage ride to the Gardiners’ reliving Anne’s words. In some ways, he could see the truth in what she spoke. He should have talked to her instead of assuming her wishes to be the same as her mother’s. He had not wanted to raise her hopes by showing her any attention. It was the same manner in which he behaved toward every woman of marriageable age. He even treated Elizabeth as such, at first. But, like Elizabeth, Anne deserved better. The family connection alone should have propelled him to treat her more civilly. He was heartily ashamed of himself.
Darcy sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. She stiffened but then, seeing it was Darcy, allowed her fingers to relax on the keys once again.
“Please keep playing,” he whispered.
She did as he asked, though her movements were somewhat restrained in his embrace. When the song ended, she turned her face to his and gave him a gentle kiss. Before she could pull away, his hand came to rest on her neck as he deepened the kiss. His other hand clasped her waist tighter and pulled her closer.
“Elizabeth,” he groaned as he lifted her and carried her to the settee. “When are your aunt and uncle?”
“Out,” she breathed then pulled him into another deep kiss. He stepped away briefly to close the door then walked to her while removing his coat.