Pride and Proposals

by Victoria Kincaid

  “Elizabeth?” Georgiana said gently.

  “Miss Bennet, did we arrive at a disadvantageous time?” Mr. Darcy said at almost the same moment.

  “No, no.” Elizabeth gestured for them to sit. “I am delighted to see you. Please be seated.” She rang for Grayson. Ordering tea gave her time to compose her spirits. If it had only been Georgiana, she might have managed tolerably well, but coping with Mr. Darcy … Why must he choose today for a visit?

  A maid delivered the tea, and Elizabeth busied herself with serving. She and Georgiana discussed the weather and new hat styles. Mr. Darcy watched them silently.

  More accurately, Mr. Darcy watched her, Elizabeth realized. Was he awaiting some error in her etiquette or speech? Generally, she would laugh at such attempts at intimidation, but today, she did not feel equal to the challenge.

  There was a break in the conversation. Elizabeth nibbled one of Cook’s lemon biscuits, her favorite. But she had no taste for it. Mr. Darcy asked, “Miss Bennet, was there something particularly distressing in this morning’s post?”

  Why did he have to arrive at just that moment? Why must he be so observant? And why could he not pretend—as anyone else would have—that he had not noticed her distress?

  She brushed nonexistent crumbs from her skirt. “It is of no matter.”

  “I hope your family is well?” His concern sounded genuine.

  “Yes, very well.”

  “And Mrs. Bingley?”

  “Her confinement is proceeding smoothly.”

  She glanced up and met dark eyes, regarding her with unnerving intensity, eyebrows raised in inquiry. He would not rest until he knew the cause of her distress. The thought sparked her sense of mischief. Well, he has asked for it. If the information makes him uncomfortable, so be it.

  She sighed. “The letter was from a solicitor.”

  Darcy’s face darkened. “Regarding Richard’s estate?”

  “Indirectly.” Elizabeth wished for some embroidery to occupy her hands and focus her attention. Instead, she stared at the wall beyond Mr. Darcy’s shoulder. “The solicitor was hired by Richard’s parents and brother. They wish to challenge his will regarding the possession of this townhouse on the grounds that it is part of the Hargrave estate and cannot be separated from it.”

  “Oh, Elizabeth!” Georgiana’s cry was shrill. “This cannot be allowed!” She looked beseechingly at her brother, whose expression had not altered. “Thomas has more than sufficient funds to purchase another townhouse.”

  In the ensuing silence, it occurred to Elizabeth that perhaps Mr. Darcy had been aware of his uncle’s plan to recover the townhouse; perhaps he had even encouraged the scheme. The thought caused a wave of sadness she knew to be completely unwarranted. Would she really expect Mr. Darcy to take her part against his own family?

  “It is of no matter,” Elizabeth told Georgiana softly, hoping they could hastily dispense with this subject. “My solicitor will investigate the issue and advise me.” She cleared her throat. “It is a fine day. Perhaps we should go for a walk.” At least as they walked, she would not constantly feel the weight of Mr. Darcy’s stare.

  Georgiana’s face was set in an uncharacteristic frown. “Uncle Fitzwilliam is being most unfair to you in your time of grief!” She rose from her seat and came to sit next to Elizabeth, taking her hand. But then she looked expectantly at her brother. “William, is there nothing you can do?”

  Elizabeth groaned inwardly. If only Georgiana had agreed to a walk! She had no desire to have Georgiana force her brother into a favor he did not wish to perform. “I can hardly ask you or your brother to intervene in a matter between me and your family,” Elizabeth said hastily. “I do not wish to cause any difficulties.”

  Before Georgiana could reply, Mr. Darcy surged to his feet. His eyes were stormy, and his hand brushed through his hair in agitation, disarranging it. “Indeed, madam, I must disagree with you most strenuously.” He paced to the fireplace, empty in the mild weather, and stared into the dark grate. Would he enumerate the reasons she should vacate the house? Elizabeth did not wish to debate this topic, particularly in Georgiana’s presence.

  “Mr. Darcy—”

  His voice overrode hers. “I believe my uncle’s actions are most inappropriate. I will speak with him about it.”

  Shock rendered Elizabeth speechless for a moment. She swallowed. “You were not aware of their plans?”

  Mr. Darcy looked startled. “No, they did not see fit to inform me. They knew how I would respond.” His grimace was directed at the fireplace.

  Oh, goodness. Was he implying that he had defended her to the earl and countess previously? Mr. Darcy had tolerated her as Richard’s betrothed, but Elizabeth always suspected he had attempted to talk Richard out of the engagement.

  “I will visit them this afternoon and attempt to persuade them against this course of action.” Next to Elizabeth, Georgiana sank back into her settee with a smile of satisfaction.

  “I do not need you to fight my battles. I have a solicitor for that.” Elizabeth’s voice was firm.

  For the first time in the conversation, he regarded her directly, startling her with the ferocity of her gaze. “Will your solicitor wish to cross the Earl of Matlock? It could destroy his career.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth and closed it. That had not occurred to her. She took a sip of tea to calm her nerves. “I do not wish to be the cause of a breach between you and your family—a breach which could extend to Georgiana. It would grieve me deeply.”

  Darcy’s gaze was cool. “Your feelings do you credit. However, you are not requesting anything of me. I proceed as my conscience dictates, regardless of your desires.”

  Elizabeth blinked in surprise, at a loss of what to say. She was pleased he wished to defend her, but he implied that his motives were quite impersonal. She could not make out his character at all. What a vexing man!

  Georgiana had no such reservations. She clapped her hands together. “There! William will have the difficulty resolved in no time at all.”

  Elizabeth made a firm resolution to cease any attempts to understand Mr. Darcy’s character.

  ***

  “What a lovely surprise!” Darcy’s Aunt Rachel marched into the drawing room of Matlock House. She frequently complained how Darcy did not visit enough; however, he was uncertain how pleased she would be once she learned the impetus behind this visit.

  Darcy stood when she entered the room. “This is not a social visit, but business. Is my uncle at home?”

  “Yes,” the countess gestured vaguely down the hallway with the lacy handkerchief she always seemed to have in one hand. “But I believe he is quite busy.”

  Darcy’s blood boiled, and he suppressed an urge to yell. “It is a matter of some urgency.”

  His aunt sighed dramatically but rang for a footman to summon the earl. While they waited, the countess questioned him about Georgiana’s health. Darcy responded in as few words as possible, instead concentrating his efforts on restraining his angry impulses. A maid brought in tea, but Darcy declined his aunt’s offer of a cup.

  His uncle finally strode into the room. “So, Nephew, what is this urgent business that cannot be delayed?” he demanded gruffly, grabbing two chocolate biscuits and seating himself.

  “I understand you are challenging the terms of Richard’s will regarding the townhouse he gifted to Miss Bennet.” Darcy kept his voice level with great effort.

  The countess stared at Darcy in surprise, but the earl merely waved his hand. “Is true!” he said through a mouthful of biscuit. “She’s an upstart country miss,” he finally swallowed, “who never married our son. Our family should not have to finance her social ambitions.”

  Darcy’s stomach clenched at this description of Elizabeth. Every cell in his body tingled with the desire to leap to her defense. He took a deep breath before formulating a reply. “Thomas has wealth enough; he does not need the house. And he has never visited the place—there is no sentimental
attachment. Elizabeth did not ask for the house or the bequest. It was Richard’s wish to provide for her.”

  Aunt Rachel waved her handkerchief disdainfully. “His wish? Who knows what arts and allurements she used to take him in!”

  “I was present when they met, madam,” Darcy said through clenched teeth. “She did nothing save delight him with interesting conversation.”

  “Yes, but who knows what occurred when you were not present. Some women are quite crafty.” The countess took a sip of tea as if she had said the last word.

  This aspersion on Elizabeth’s honor stoked Darcy’s anger further. “Do you believe Richard so easily deceived? He was a man of the world.”

  Before his aunt had a chance to reply, Darcy turned to the earl. “I had a pleasant conversation with Richard’s solicitor. If they had been married—even without children—the marriage contract Richard had signed with Elizabeth’s father would have provided the exact benefit he stipulated in his will.”

  “But they were not married!” the earl thundered, banging his hand on the arm of the chair for emphasis. “This is the material point!”

  His aunt took a more conciliatory tone. “If they had married and perhaps had a child by now, her position would be quite different.”

  Unable to remain seated, Darcy pushed himself to his feet and paced toward the fireplace. “And why were they not married?” His aunt and uncle both looked so shocked at this question that he almost laughed. “Do you not recall demanding that they delay the wedding following Mr. and Mrs. Wickham’s marriage?”

  His aunt spoke immediately. “Yes, of course. The scandal—”

  Darcy did not allow her to finish. “If they had married then, her sister’s death or her father’s illness would not have caused further delays.”

  Aunt Rachel shrugged. “It matters not—”

  Darcy’s gaze caught and held his aunt’s. “Elizabeth’s sister and her husband delayed their nuptials only a fortnight following the scandal, and she is nearing the end of her confinement.” Darcy’s eyes bore into the countess’s, refusing to allow her to look away. “Had you not interfered, you might now have a grandchild—even if you still suffered the loss of your son.”

  His aunt gaped at him. Obviously, such a thought had never occurred to her. Finally, she closed her jaw with a snap and lowered her eyes to the floor. “I – I –” Now the handkerchief was employed to dry her eyes. “I would have liked a grandchild….”

  The earl’s face was red with consternation, and he was leaning forward in his chair. “Now see here! No need to upset your aunt! The will, the house—it is strictly business. We bear Miss Bennet no ill will.”

  Darcy snorted in disbelief. “Business? You only have one reason for incurring the cost of a solicitor’s fees: you wish to punish Miss Bennet for having the audacity to love your son!”

  “Love!” His uncle huffed and shoved another biscuit into his mouth.

  However, his aunt appeared intrigued. “Do you believe she loved him?” Her hands were worrying the hem of her handkerchief.

  “Yes. And she loves him still. I thank God he knew such love before he died.” Elizabeth had made Richard’s last year on earth a happy one.

  The countess had a faraway expression on her face. “He did seem quite happy with her.”

  Darcy nodded. What a fool I was for heeding my fear of my family’s reaction to Elizabeth! If I had made the decision to propose earlier … No, he could not afford to think such thoughts. She had been, and always would be, Richard’s.

  His aunt turned to her husband with a troubled mien. “Perhaps we should abandon this business with Miss Bennet. I do not wish to cause difficulties within the family. Thomas does not truly care about the townhouse. He can buy another property.”

  “There are no difficulties within the family,” the earl said gruffly. “She is not a member of the family.”

  “No, but William is.”

  The earl looked at his wife in consternation. “He would not cause trouble within the family over so trifling a matter.” His eyes then focused on Darcy. “Would you?”

  Darcy held his uncle’s gaze steadily. “Without a second thought.”

  Uncle John blinked and then blinked again, as if he could not believe his nephew had actually uttered those words. “What is Miss Bennet that you would value her fortune over your own flesh and blood?”

  Darcy closed his eyes briefly, praying to find words that would not reveal too much. Then he opened his eyes, pacing restlessly to the other side of the room. “She is the woman who loved my cousin with her whole heart and has suffered grievously for his loss. She deserves our support, not our censure.”

  The earl shook his head as he stared at his tea. “No. She is nothing but a fortune hunter, and you will never convince me otherwise.” He cleared his throat. “However, I will halt my efforts to challenge Richard’s will, if you wish.”

  Darcy released a relieved breath. “I do.”

  The earl sighed heavily. “Very well.”

  Darcy stood, eager to quit a room so thick with tension and distrust. “I thank you, sir.”

  Aunt Rachel stood as well. “I will walk you out, William.” Darcy’s breath caught. Had she guessed his feelings for Elizabeth?

  They reached the elegant, marble-clad entrance hall, and a footman handed Darcy his hat. His aunt regarded him steadily. Fortunately, his aunt’s words put him at ease. “We should make preparations for Georgiana’s come out.”

  Darcy donned his hat. “She has matured over the past year, and I believe the prospect is not as frightening to her as it once was.”

  His aunt’s expression suggested she was not interested in considering Georgiana’s fears. “If we begin preparations soon,” the countess observed, “we should be ready for the start of the Season.”

  “Very well.” Darcy sighed. Georgiana would loathe the preparations, which would require much time in Aunt Rachel’s company. The woman was overbearing and unsympathetic to Georgiana’s shyness. His sister had difficulty asserting herself, so their aunt would discount Georgiana’s preferences, making his sister miserable. Although Darcy might occasionally accompany her, he could not be present for every visit to the modiste or decision about the invitation list.

  However, an idea occurred to him. Perhaps there was someone who could help Georgiana …

  “—important Season for you as well.” Darcy realized he had not been giving his aunt’s words the least attention.

  A response seemed to be required from him. “Indeed?”

  “You must find a wife.” She said it with an air of stating the obvious. “You are eight and twenty. I understand how young gallants wish to sow their wild oats.” Darcy rolled his eyes; his aunt knew him little if she thought this description applied to him. “But it is past time for you to seriously apply yourself to this task.” He had heard this speech before, but today, it provoked greater heat in him than previously. “With Georgiana making her debut, it will be an ideal time to meet the most eligible young ladies of the ton. I could write a list of those who would suit—”

  “No!” Good Lord! He had practically shouted at his aunt, and she took a couple of steps away from him. Carefully modulating his tone, Darcy continued. “You will not seek a wife for me. I am capable of conducting my own domestic arrangements.”

  Aunt Rachel seemed almost bewildered. “But you have had no success! Obviously, you need help!”

  Darcy turned and strode toward the entrance; the sooner he departed, the less likely he was to say something he would regret. “Madam, my marital status is not your concern.”

  His aunt followed him so closely Darcy almost stepped on her toes. “You cannot leave Pemberley without an heir!”

  Darcy stopped, his hand on the door knob, breathing deeply and reminding himself that the countess could not understand how the subject of marriage and heirs haunted him day and night. “Pemberley is not entailed. If I never marry, Georgiana and her children will inherit it.”


  “But you must wish to—”

  Darcy regarded her over his shoulder. “At the present moment, I have no plans to marry. I think it highly likely I will never marry. And I will thank you to never mention the subject again.”

  His aunt’s mouth opened, but no words emerged. Darcy turned the door knob with a shaking hand and escaped the house.

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth pored over the housekeeper’s neat columns of numbers recording the expenditures for the month, a task she actually did not mind performing. The daily activity of running a household provided a focus for her energy and a welcome distraction. “Mr. Darcy is here, ma’am.”

  Grayson’s voice startled her out of her reverie.

  But he visited just yesterday! “Did Miss Darcy accompany him?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Very well. Show him to the blue drawing room.” Elizabeth glanced about the study; with its dark wood and leather chairs, it was a handsome room, which reminded her poignantly of Richard. Undoubtedly, he had often met Mr. Darcy in this room. But it was far too intimate a setting to receive an unmarried man, particularly one who unsettled her so.

  Her entrance to the blue drawing room was followed by the usual inquiries about her health and her family’s wellbeing. After a long silence, Mr. Darcy cleared his throat, appearing decidedly uncomfortable. “I have spoken with my uncle, and he has agreed to cease any attempts to challenge Richard’s will.”

  A great weight was lifted from Elizabeth’s body, and she immediately felt far lighter. “I thank you, Mr. Darcy. It was very good of you.” She tried to convey her gratitude with her eyes, wishing she understood why he had interceded. Elizabeth had asked him not to, but now she was too relieved to care that he had ignored her wishes. Had he intervened because Georgiana was so distressed? “I hope your uncle is not angry with you.”

  “Not in the least.” Mr. Darcy shifted in his chair, looking away.