Dearest Friends

by Pamela Lynne

  “I am well, Fitzwilliam. I am just in need of some distance from your aunt.”

  Darcy’s concern turned to anger. “What did she say to you? She promised me she would support us.”

  “Please do not be so concerned, sir. She is taking her promise seriously.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “I do not wish to speak of it now. Just know that she has not harmed me. She is only trying to be of use.”

  Darcy’s furrowed brow told her he was unwilling to let it go. She sighed and lowered her voice to a whisper.

  “She spoke to me of my . . . marital duties.”

  Darcy blushed. “Why would she do so in the carriage in front of Anne and Georgie?”

  “You will have to ask her that. Do not worry about the girls’ sensibilities. She had them cover their ears and close their eyes.”

  Darcy chuckled at the image, and Elizabeth glared. “Why did they have to close their eyes?”

  “She brought her sketchbook.”

  Darcy’s eyes grew wide. “I did not know she drew.”

  “Yes, but apparently, she only finds inspiration in one subject. She did not want me to be frightened on my wedding night.”

  “Surely she did not show you drawings of Sir Lewis?” He found himself suddenly nauseous.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “It seems your aunt keeps a lover.”

  Darcy closed his eyes. “Oh God. I do not want to know about this.”

  “I told you I did not want to talk about it. Now, you get to travel with that thought in your head.”

  “The next time, I will listen, I assure you. Are you much distressed, dearest? That was very presumptuous of her. Were the drawings graphic?”

  Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “They were.”

  Darcy groaned, and they made their way inside for tea, though neither of them could stomach much after that conversation.

  ********

  “Oh, Fitzwilliam, it is a castle!” Georgiana exclaimed as she looked out of the carriage window.

  Darcy laughed at her exuberance. He finally got his wish when they resumed their travel that afternoon. Many of the ladies were tired and wanted to rest a while more, so they stayed behind with Bingley, Richard, and Sebastian at the inn. He had Elizabeth and Georgiana to himself, and he was happy to see them so joyful at the end of their journey.

  “It only wants a moat and a dragon perched on the tower, and it would be perfect.” Elizabeth’s eyes danced as she spoke. They were finally at the place where she would marry Fitzwilliam. She could barely contain her tears as she looked at him. “It is perfect.”

  He pulled her into him and rested his head on hers. “Dearest Elizabeth,” he whispered as he pulled back, kissed her forehead, and then smiled broadly. “We are here.”

  They were greeted in the foyer by an older woman with the warmest smile Elizabeth had ever seen on anyone save her aunt Gardiner.

  “Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy. I am happy to see you both looking so well.”

  “Mrs. Reynolds, thank you for traveling here to oversee the arrangements for our stay. May I present my betrothed, Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Darcy said warmly.

  “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Reynolds. Mr. and Miss Darcy have said many wonderful things about you.”

  Elizabeth could tell she was being sized up as Mrs. Reynolds took in her appearance. She did not mind, however, knowing how important she had been to the Darcys. She smiled as the woman finished her study and was happy with the warm response she received.

  “Oh, you dear girl, I am so glad the master is bringing home a bride at last, and I am also happy to be here to help with your nuptials. Will you be ready to discuss the arrangements tomorrow, or will you need more time to recover from your journey?”

  “My aunt will not be here until the day after tomorrow, and I would like her advice, but we may begin tomorrow morning if you are free. I would like to have as many things in place as possible before my aunt and uncle arrive so that we can marry the next day.”

  Darcy knew the housekeeper would be curious about the rush, so he interjected, “Miss Bennet’s father is ill, and we will need to go to him soon.” Leaning forward, he grasped her elbow and whispered, “There is no need to worry, Kate. I am very happy.”

  She patted his hand. “Well then, shall I show you to your rooms?”

  ********

  Elizabeth sat at the vanity in her chamber brushing her hair. It had been a quiet evening with most of their party choosing to take dinner in their rooms after their late arrival. She had chosen to eat with Mary, with whom she had barely spoken since their departure from London. She was pleased to see her very reserved and inexperienced sister was not only holding up well, but was enjoying the company of her soon-to-be relations. She was concerned at first by how much she spoke of Sebastian, but she used the same expressions and tone of voice when speaking of Anne and Georgiana, so she decided there was no need to worry.

  Elizabeth finished her hair and stood up to walk around the room. It was a lovely space, and she could tell it was adorned with the very best the local village had to offer. She had no doubt that Mrs. Reynolds and the rest of the staff worked hard to prepare the room just for her; she felt very special.

  She finished her turn about the room and was beginning to settle into bed when she heard a soft knock followed immediately by the sound of the door opening. She looked up to see Darcy’s smiling face enter the room.

  “You are ready for bed, I see.”

  She returned his smile. “I am. May I ask what you are doing in my bedchamber, sir?”

  “I am ready for bed as well.” He started to get in with her, but then turned toward the door instead. Seeing that it was locked, he returned to Elizabeth and removed his robe.

  “You do not mind my being here?” He asked as he gathered her to him.

  “I suppose not. It is very cold. I may need you to keep me warm if the fire goes out in the night.”

  “As long as I can serve some purpose, my lady.” He smiled as he leaned in for a kiss. “It has been days since I tasted your lips, Elizabeth.”

  He explored her mouth with his and her body with his hand for a few brief moments, stopping before temptation again got the better of them.

  “Goodnight, my dearest girl.” The words were barely out of his mouth before they were both sound asleep, secure in the comfort of a lover’s embrace and locked safely behind the doors of one of the three mistress chambers they would share together.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  * * *

  Anne sat at the window seat looking out over the lawn and wiped off the condensation caused by her warm breath. She had been ordered to remain in her chambers for the morning to recover from the long journey. She did not give her mother much of an argument because she was very tired, exhausted actually. If she rested now she could play later, she figured. Sitting in her rooms while life carried on around her was not foreign. She was quite accustomed to it. She turned her gaze from the window to the room and smiled. At least this time she had company.

  Georgiana and Mary sat on her bed reading while Jane sat in a chair working on embroidery. Elizabeth was downstairs seeing to wedding arrangements, and the men had gone out to survey the estate. They had become a cozy little party. Jane and Elizabeth seemed content in the company, the only novelty being the men, but for Anne, Georgiana, and Mary, close female companionship was new and something to be cherished.

  Voices from below drew Anne’s attention back to the window. The men had returned and seemed to be enjoying themselves. Well, three of them were. One was too busy frowning. Anne recognized that particular scowl; Darcy was being teased. She studied the others, who were all smiling and laughing. They were a handsome group of men. She would defy any lady who was not already acquainted with them to look upon this view and not swoon. Her gaze came to rest on one particular gentleman.

  The past days had been the best of Anne’s life. Until the unfortunate morning that she rode wit
h her mother, Lizzy, and Georgie, she had spent every waking moment with Richard. The familiar fluttering in her chest that always came when he was near had grown into a constant ache that was so different and addictive. She still had many doubts. Her pride would not let her give voice to them, but she could not help but think that she was in no way good enough for a man like Richard. He was a man of the world, and she was a near spinster, who had not left Kent for more than a decade, who was uneducated and unaccomplished, and whose abilities were still being tested. Travelling to Scotland had left her exhausted and nearly immobile. Could she manage being a wife and mother? She was not sure. Once again taking in the scene below, she could not keep a sigh from escaping.

  “What has caught your attention, Cousin?” Georgiana came up behind her and rested her chin on her shoulder. “Ah, I see. It is a lovely view.” The sounds of their giggles brought the other two ladies to the window.

  “That man should be captured in marble. I do not understand why neither of you is pursuing him. The viscount is near perfection, in looks at least,” Jane spoke to Anne and Georgie, who laughed.

  “I have no intention of marrying at present, and I believe Anne’s attention may lie elsewhere,” Georgie teased.

  Anne blushed. “Leave me be, Georgie,” she said with a slight smile.

  “Do you mean the colonel?” Mary asked. “He does seem to admire you, Anne. There is a softness about him that only appears when you are with him.”

  Anne shook her head. “We have always been friends. I have nothing to attract him to want anything more.”

  “You have an estate and a large dowry. I would say that is rather attractive.” Jane, having neither of those things, had no idea how offensive her words were.

  “She has much more than that,” Georgie defended. She stroked Anne’s unbound hair. “You are kind and funny. You play with him, but you listen when he is serious. You care for him, and that is what Richard needs most.”

  “I am not witty or beautiful.”

  “You are lovely,” Mary and Georgie said in unison, but Jane knew what she meant and took her hand.

  “We cannot all be Lizzy. If Colonel Fitzwilliam wanted someone like her, he would be following her around, not you. And he does follow you like a lost puppy. Whether you feel worthy of it or not, Anne, it seems you have his heart.”

  Anne squeezed her hand. Elizabeth had asked them to be kind to Jane, reminding them that they all had done things to warrant forgiveness at times. She told them that while she appreciated their loyalty, their vindictiveness would only make things worse. And so they made the effort, which turned out to be surprisingly easy. Jane was genuinely pleasant when she was not around Bingley. At those times, unfortunately, she was barely tolerable.

  Anne sighed and nodded to the window. “Speaking of puppies, why are you so different around Mr. Bingley? With us, you are sweet and sincere, but as soon as he is in our company, you become quiet and assumed. Forgive me for being harsh, but it is true.”

  Jane shrugged. “I am trying to secure him. I know how it sounds, but as your mother has been so kind to point out, I have no fortune and no accomplishments to recommend me. Very soon, my father will be dead, and Longbourn will belong to a very nasty man. Mr. Darcy has made it clear that I will not be welcome in his home, and I am unsure of a warm reception from my uncle. Right now, my only option is Mr. Bingley. It is no great hardship to smile in his company.” She sighed heavily. “I still have no idea who I am, truly, so I might as well be Mrs. Bingley.”

  Jane moved closer to the window and looked down. “He is very amiable. He is always happy and light. There is a boyishness about him that can be charming. I would not be unhappy, and I would try very hard to ensure his happiness as well.” Fear and uncertainty, as well as a lifetime of lessons on how to trap a man, fought her newfound decency when it came to her relationship with Bingley. She was determined not to think on it much.

  They crowded together on the window seat as they looked down at the men. They were laughing again and looking behind them as if someone were speaking to them from the shadows. Unexpectedly, another man appeared, a stranger, to the ladies at least, but somehow familiar. By his deportment and attire, he was a gentleman, and though they could not yet see his face, it was obvious he was enjoying the company. The gentlemen moved away from the wall of the castle as they looked upon it, observing something in the stone. Darcy pointed to something, and the stranger looked up, giving the women a clear view of his face. Though all four appreciated what they saw, two of them had reactions beyond mere recognition of a handsome man.

  While Georgie studied the contours of his face, Jane traced his body with her eyes. If Sebastian should be caught in marble, this man should be captured in words. He was poetry. He was cadence and rhyme. He was the product of Muse but went beyond the aesthetic to something more, other. He was tall, standing over all the men except for Darcy, and the straight lines of his face held character, as if every contour told a story. Yet, he was young, and his eyes… Ah! If I could only see the color, Georgie thought as she sat on her knees and pressed against the glass. They could have sat there and looked upon him forever and were quite vexed when the gentlemen moved from their line of sight. They were seemingly left in a stupor until they heard Anne’s joyful laughter.

  “Lord, is it not enough that we are subjected to the most handsome men in England? Must we suffer the best Scotland has to offer as well?” Their laughter resonated out in the hall and continued until a maid appeared with a summons from Mr. Darcy for the ladies to come down and meet his neighbor.

  ********

  Blue. Georgiana sighed inwardly. His eyes were blue, not the dark sapphires of the Fitzwilliams, but light and almost clear. He was no less magnificent close up than he was from a distance. His dark hair contrasted beautifully against his pale skin and rested on his collar, tempting her fingers to run through it. She had begun contemplating his hands when she felt a pinch on her own. She turned to find Richard’s eyebrows raised and a satisfied smirk on his lips. Embarrassed by being caught openly admiring their guest, she narrowed her eyes and rose to escape the sound of his chuckle. She was pleased to find the only available seat gave her an unobstructed view of their new acquaintance but was quite displeased to see that his attention had been captured by another.

  Jane was close to being overwhelmed. Mr. Robert Porter was not only very easy to gaze upon, but easy to listen to as well. His voice was like chocolate, rich and sweet, and he spoke with confidence. They talked mostly of trivial things, their backgrounds, and her recent travels. He was not trying to charm her, but she was entranced nonetheless.

  “Have you lived in Scotland long, Mr. Porter?”

  He shook his head. “Just over a year. My father turned the estate over to me when I turned five and twenty.” John Porter was the second son of William Porter, a gentleman landowner from northern England. Much like George Darcy, he had managed to refrain from the excesses of his class and so was better able to provide for his children, unlike the Fitzwilliams.

  “Are you all alone up here, or do you have family close by?”

  “It is just me, Miss Bennet, and if I am honest, I must say that it gets a bit lonely at times. I do count myself fortunate, however, to have the estate to manage. I stay busy and have learned much this past year. I am quite content if not overtly happy.” He could have answered that question a number of ways. If he had been more like Darcy, he would only have said no. If he had been more like Bingley, he would have added many pretty words and somehow have complimented her in the process. But he was unlike either of those men; he was both open and honest.

  “My sister Mary believes contentment is the best we can hope for in life, that happiness is merely a matter of chance and is often fleeting.”

  He turned to look at Darcy and Elizabeth, who had abandoned the rest of the party for a quiet corner soon after her arrival in the parlor. They were smiling and speaking softly, stealing touches here and there, completely oblivi
ous to the conversations around them.

  “It would seem your other sister does not feel that way. Nor do I, honestly. Are we not very young still, Miss Bennet? Should we resign ourselves to contentment and safety when real happiness can still be found?” He smiled then, but it did nothing to take away the challenge offered in his words.

  His crystal blue eyes bore into hers, and she wondered if he was actually a man. No man could have looked into her as he just did and test her resolve after a mere hour of knowing her. He must be an angel, a dark angel sent to earth to tempt her to be something more—something like him, something other. She shook her head at her ridiculous thoughts as Mr. Bingley approached them, reminding her exactly who she was—or rather, who she was determined to be.

  “It seems, Mr. Porter, that you, too, have become taken by our dear Miss Bennet. She is an angel, is she not?” Though not overly alarmed, Bingley had noticed a peculiar look on Jane’s face as she spoke with Porter. Fearing the sweet girl was uncomfortable in the presence of a strange gentleman, he thought to rescue her.

  “An angel, you say? How does it feel to have fallen from such heights, Miss Bennet?” He smiled as if he shared a secret.

  She returned his smile while ignoring Bingley completely. “Quite exhilarating, sir.”

  ********

  Not long after, Mr. Porter took his leave, but not before receiving an invitation to the wedding breakfast. Everyone gathered in the dining room soon after for luncheon where it was decided that Anne should learn how to dance. Georgiana declared that they should all meet in the large hall in an hour after all the furniture had been cleared and the piano setup. Mary and Georgiana would take turns playing while Anne learned at least two dances to enjoy at the wedding festivities. She would learn more if she were able, though Lady Catherine believed one would tax her enough.

  Thankfully that lady declined to participate in the activity, preferring to rest in her chamber, much to Richard’s relief. She had been on guard since the afternoon he had pulled Anne from the carriage and twirled her around rather than hand her down as normal. He could not help himself. She had been laughing and looked so fresh and healthy. She was the happiest he had seen her since they were children, and her joy seemed to breathe new life in him. He could finally allow that what she needed more than anything was to laugh and feel as if she belonged. He could give that to her. He would give that to her if she let him.