Darcy coughed. He felt heat flooding his cheeks, but Elizabeth’s gay expression relieved his embarrassment. “Miss Bennet is generous, as always. I managed to avoid stepping on her feet and making a total fool of myself. In my particular case, it remains fortunate that dancing proficiency and engaging repartee are not the only inducements to affection.”
“Quite so,” Jonathan Fitzwilliam agreed. “I abhor dancing and socializing more than you, Darcy, and that is saying something, yet my wife tolerates me. One’s beguilements and personality can be hidden secrets for only select individuals to divine.”
“I concur, Mr. Fitzwilliam. Thank you.” Elizabeth bowed her head gratefully—Mr. Fitzwilliam inclined his head to acknowledge—and then swung her eyes back to Darcy. Again wearing the secret smile imbued with love, she spoke in a hushed pitch that somehow grabbed attention better than if she shouted. “Some people are rather like a fine bottle of aged red wine. The cork must first be removed. The wine is then poured and allowed time to breathe. One must wait patiently for the aroma to rise and captivate those who wish to partake of its delights. The wine warms in the glass, aided by the touch of a hand, as the flavor softens and mellows. Slowly, gradually, the wine’s true essence is exposed.” She paused, adoring eyes locked onto Darcy’s. Concluding in a whisper, “Some people are structured so, and they are abundantly worth the wait.”
Everyone in the room was mesmerized by her impromptu speech. For at least a minute, the only sound was the ticking of the mantel clock.
“Superbly spoken, Miss Bennet.” Lady Matlock’s murmured comment broke the spell. Darcy could not pull his eyes away from Elizabeth but peripherally noticed the pointed non-verbal exchange between his aunt and uncle.
In time the evening came to an end. As Elizabeth was retrieving her redingote from the footman while talking with Lady Matlock, Darcy and Lord Matlock casually stepped a bit away.
“I like her, my boy, enormously. There is absolutely no question that she loves you. Her father is a gentleman, intelligent and humorous. Both have impeccable manners. I can find no faults.”
“Thank you, sir. Your opinion means a great deal to me.”
Lord Matlock’s eyes narrowed as he peered intently at his nephew. Cocking his head, he asked, “What would you say if I did not approve? She is, after all, manners notwithstanding, not quite in your class. What if I agree with your Aunt Catherine?”
Meeting his uncle’s gaze with the same intensity, Darcy answered, “Sir, it would grieve me, as I grieve over Lady Catherine’s attitude. However, my choices are just that. Mine. Elizabeth is my life. I am nothing without her.”
“And Pemberley?”
“My lord, I understand what you are asking and why. All my adult life I have placed Pemberley’s needs before my own. I believe I have been a worthy Master of Pemberley and that I carry the Darcy name proudly. Years have I searched for a woman of quality, someone strong and brave, intelligent and wise, empathetic and giving. All the characteristics the Mistress of Pemberley must have. I am not a blind fool, Uncle. Elizabeth possesses these attributes, amongst a host of others. I have fallen in love with a woman my equal, if not superior. As remarkable as all of this, it is inconsequential compared to the fact that she loves me. Her paramount value to me, and to Pemberley, is in this truth.”
The warmth and emotion in Lord Matlock’s voice were more than Darcy could have hoped. “Your father would be very proud of you, Fitzwilliam, as would your mother. James and Anne loved each other, as you know. It is an emotion uncommon in our society, sadly. They were better human beings because of it, and Pemberley thrived. I do approve of your Miss Bennet, wholeheartedly. You have my approval and blessing…for what that is worth.”
The earl clapped Darcy on the shoulder as the two turned around. Instantly, Darcy’s eyes veered to where Elizabeth had last been standing, but to his surprise, she was a mere three feet away. A rosy blush covered her cheeks, and she ducked her head, but not swiftly enough for him to miss seeing the moisture in her eyes.
She was eavesdropping. Rather than feeling irritation, Darcy wanted to laugh aloud.
Instead, he crossed the short distance and clasped both hands. “Are you well, my dearest? You are flushed. Have we overtaxed your strength tonight?”
“Tease,” she mumbled, staring at her toes. “You caught me listening, I know it.” Lifting her eyes, she smiled. “Guilty as charged, I confess. Now it is I who wants to kiss you. Desperately. You had to suffice with my hands, but I shall toss caution to the wind.” Rising onto her tiptoes, she pressed her lips firmly and lingeringly against his cheek. Then, while still inches away from his face, she breathed, “I love you. With all my heart and for eternity.”
He was so startled and overwhelmed that she had pivoted about and was nearly to the door before he recovered.
6
Capital Exploration
True to his promise, Mr. Darcy partnered with Mr. Bingley to escort Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet for one whole day of blissful togetherness.
The enormity of London prevented a comprehensive exploration within a day, no matter how long they stretched the hours. When asked for sightseeing preferences, Lizzy and Jane declined to offer any guidance. They contentedly announced that whatever the gentlemen decided would be fantastic. As nice as it was to be trusted implicitly, neither lady realized how challenging the task was for their eager-to-please fiancés.
For over an hour Darcy and Bingley deliberated over which places provided the highest intrigue and entertainment, while also being best suited to the personalities and interests of their respective ladies. They also considered which were open for public viewing on a Thursday and possible to adequately canvas in a few hours.
The last two stipulations eliminated several options immediately, yet the list remained long. It came down to bargaining and veto power.
Darcy began by voting for the British Museum, knowing Elizabeth would adore the wealth of history and ancient artifacts. Bingley yawned at the very mention of a museum, effectively striking off a half dozen similar destinations Darcy had as alternatives. Bingley favored visiting an art exhibition and specifically mentioned his favorite: the Society of Painters in Watercolours. Darcy adored art and could understand Bingley’s desire since Jane painted in both oils and watercolors. Elizabeth, however, while appreciative of art, was not a talented artist or passionate about the subject. Using his veto, Darcy crossed artistic options off the shrinking list. Turning again to historic places, Darcy proposed Old Bailey and Newgate. Leaving no doubt as to his vote, Bingley dramatically rolled his eyes before pretending to fall asleep, loud snores included for emphasis.
Swinging the other direction, Bingley suggested Astley’s Amphitheatre, the Royal Menagerie, or the horse races. All of these options and others of a similar bent were favorable for the excitement aspects to be sure. They analyzed each at length, yet the more they discussed the pros and cons, the prevailing negative was the noise and potential for large crowds. Indeed, it was long past the height of the Season, but London never completely emptied or slowed down, particularly at the prime spots for lively entertainment. Escorting their beloveds to places teeming with overzealous people crammed into tight spaces with enclosed animals resulting in swirling dust and odiferous stenches did not appeal.
These were the sensible excuses to avoid the popular London destinations, of which both gentlemen concurred. What Darcy did not add to the argument were his fears of Elizabeth encountering those amongst high society. Cognizant of how gossip circulated faster than lightning, the odds of meeting a single person ignorant of the rumblings spread by Lady Catherine were not in his favor. Staying away from the choicest areas people of his class frequented decreased the chances of overhearing whispers or being boldly confronted. Frankly, since his precipitous offer made in the carriage on the way to the Matlock townhouse, Darcy had mentally cursed himself as a fool dozens of times.
It figures that the one occasion I behave spontaneously may well prove th
e importance of regulated speech and careful forethought!
At this point in the planning process, Bingley reminded Darcy that the day of exploration was born out of Elizabeth’s interest in Saint James’s Palace. True enough, Darcy admitted, whereupon Bingley suggested driving around town to view all the grand palaces, stately mansions, and other noteworthy buildings. Darcy was aware that Bingley’s rationale in this idea was to stare at his “angel” Jane from his carriage seat across from her—understandable to a degree as Darcy could easily stare at Elizabeth for hours on end—but the prospect of being confined to a vehicle fighting traffic all day sounded more nightmarish than fun.
Darcy countered with a compromise to launch the expedition at the palace and limit the visit to two or three of the historic locales London had to offer. Bingley reluctantly conceded, the debate then turning to which two or three. By the end of the session—with several brandies consumed—they settled on a flexible itinerary of places located within a reasonable proximity of the palace to save travel time and allow leisurely strolling while exploring.
Lastly, at Darcy’s suggestion, Georgiana was enlisted to play the part of chaperone. His reasoning was admittedly multifaceted. For one, he sensed that poor Mrs. Gardiner was exhausted—although she would likely never admit to it. A day of rest was much needed and deserved. Using the pretext of desiring his sister to spend time with Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet, and elaborating her yearning to explore the city, Darcy convinced Mrs. Gardiner to relinquish her self-assigned role. What Darcy also suspected, not that he would verbalize the bonus reason, is that Georgiana would be even laxer as a monitor than Mrs. Gardiner often was.
While Mrs. Gardiner as chaperone purposefully turned a blind eye to the sly caresses and brushing kisses the lovers shared, Georgiana would be innocently oblivious to most furtive demonstrations of affection. Those she did notice would either make her smile happily or blush, with scolding never crossing her mind. Undoubtedly, the Gardiners and Mr. Bennet were aware of this fact, but thankfully no one argued over the idea. As both gentlemen eventually discovered, the change in chaperone was supremely beneficial.
* * *
Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy arrived at the Bingley townhouse near Berkeley Square bright and early that Thursday morning. Already transported via the Gardiner carriage, the Bennet sisters were waiting with Mr. Bingley. After a hearty breakfast, the group of five was ready to begin their day. The temperature was cool, as typical for late in October, but the sun shone brightly with few clouds to obstruct, and there was no wind, allowing the landau hood to be folded down. The coachman slapped the reins as soon as they seated comfortably, and off they went.
Mr. Bingley interrupted the gay chatter a few minutes later, just as the driver turned onto the main street past the townhouse. “So, here we are, in the carriage, heading south on Bond Street toward Piccadilly. Now, I wonder if our two clever ladies have deduced our immediate destination?” His question met with neutral expressions, placid smiles, and no verbalized replies. Grinning, he continued, “The next question is, do we enlighten you as to the day’s activities? Or do you wish to remain in the dark? What do you think, Darcy?”
“I am entirely at the pleasure of our ladies. It shall be a test as to how fully they delight in being surprised, or if mysteries are a cause of displeasure. Such information may well prove useful in the future.”
Darcy’s reply to Bingley’s question was delivered while holding Lizzy’s gaze, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Smiling, she responded, “I am willing to play the game of mystery, noble sirs. After all, I heard a tale of excessive, dramatic plotting and scheming for this one small day of adventure”—Georgiana’s flush and averted eyes revealed where that information came from—“so I could not live with my guilt-ridden conscience if we spoiled a single moment.”
“Nor could I,” Jane agreed in her soft voice. “Additionally, it may be fun to see just how clever we truly are, by gleaning hints along the way.”
“Oh yes! A guessing game! What a great idea, Jane.” Lizzy patted her sister’s hand. “We shall see how well Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley can keep secrets and maintain the suspense. Who shall break first? Can we successfully read their thoughts, or will they slip? Who will win the prizes, them or us?”
“If one or both of you make a correct guess, what do you want your prize to be?”
“A kiss!” Georgiana’s blurted suggestion to Bingley’s question elicited laughter and a few blushes, although not enough to quell the gaiety.
“A fair prize indeed, dear Sister. That way both parties win, no matter what. Now, as neither lovely lady has voiced a guess of our destination, and we are here”—Darcy pointed in the direction over the women’s shoulders—“that means the first-round score goes to the gentlemen.”
Twisting in their seats, Jane gasped. “I did not realize your townhouse is so close to the palace, Mr. Bingley. We could have walked and saved the horses.”
“A trick, Jane, to maintain the mystery,” Lizzy said. “Take the carriage to insinuate a long trip. Oh so sneaky, Mr. Darcy.”
Chuckling, Darcy countered Lizzy’s teasing assertion. “I wish I could claim foresight and deviousness, Miss Elizabeth. Alas, we were merely saving our ladies’ feet at the outset of a long day. Additionally, we will require the carriage throughout the day. Besides, the game was a recent challenge, was it not?”
“Very true, I admit,” Lizzy murmured, her eyes on the palace.
“The gauntlet tossed recently or not, we shall not forget the win is ours.”
Jane turned around to meet Mr. Bingley’s eyes, her cheeks rosy. “The count has begun, sir. However, if I may suggest, perhaps it is best to mentally store the tally and save for a future time of privacy to collect?”
Laughingly agreeing that this was indeed a logical choice—no one stating aloud that it was also beneficial to ensure the kisses were more than chaste cheek pecks—the group gave their full attention to the looming redbrick gatehouse and crenelated turrets of Saint James’s Palace. The carriage slowed to a crawl, pedestrians and wheeled vehicles crowding the terminal end of the street bearing the royal residence’s name where it abutted Pall Mall. Darcy instructed the coachman to halt, and the small group disembarked onto the cobblestoned walkway.
As Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley conversed quietly with the driver, Lizzy, lost in admiration of the palace, stepped away from her sister and Georgiana. She did not hear Mr. Darcy approach, jolting when he spoke from close behind her right shoulder.
“Do not be ashamed if your opinion of Saint James’s Palace is less than favorable, Elizabeth. You would not be the first person to lay fresh eyes upon the palace and note its appearance as rather mundane, particularly in comparison to royal castles on the Continent.”
“I can’t argue from the standpoint of comparing to the elaborate palaces of France or Germany, at least based on paintings I’ve seen. But we have our history to be proud of, which transcends grandeur or opulent construction. I rather like that we are a country of understated aesthetics.”
“I agree, although I doubt anyone would deem baroque or gothic as ‘understated’ design aesthetics. My knowledge of architecture is minimal yet enough to comprehend the superb Tudor styling of Saint James’s Palace. The designers and engineers employed by King Henry built a solid structure expressing the artistic philosophy of the mid-sixteenth century. Thankfully, with few exceptions, subsequent additions and repairs, such as after the horrific fire seven years ago, have maintained the Tudor influence.”
“Yes, they have. It is precisely like the paintings and etchings I’ve seen. And, now that I am here, I believe my father took us past the palace when I was too young to appreciate the significance. It is a hazy memory. In any case, I am not disappointed.”
Before more could be said, Mr. Bingley, with a sunny Jane holding his arm, drew alongside. Flipping open his pocket watch, he lifted it up for Darcy to see, and both men nodded.
“More mysteries, Mr. Darcy? Are we on a tig
ht schedule?”
“Only for the present, Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy offered one arm to his fiancée and the other to his sister, both ladies accepting. Following behind Bingley and Jane, he clarified in a pitch loud enough for the duo to hear, “We have fifteen minutes to elbow our way through the loitering onlookers and costermongers taking advantage of the event to sell their wares. By eleven o’clock promptly, we must be in place.”
“Is guessing the event part of the challenge, Brother? I would hate for either Miss Bennet or Miss Elizabeth to miss an opportunity to secure a win.”
“My, aren’t you the cheeky imp today!” Darcy laughed at his sister’s belated flush. “The question is a valid one, however. Should we allow a guess, Bingley?”
Before Mr. Bingley could answer, however, Lizzy proclaimed with mock imperiousness, “I shall claim ignorance. Whether true or feigned to swell your confidence and lead to further slips of the tongue, I shall not say.”
“An interesting tactic, Lizzy,” Jane tossed over her shoulder, “but since I know a fact of history to boast of, a rarity for me, I shall make a guess. At eleven o’clock is the Changing of the Guard Colour Ceremony. Am I correct?”
“Ha! The score is even! One kiss for the gentlemen, and one for the ladies. Well done, my dear Miss Bennet.”
Lizzy could only see a portion of Mr. Bingley’s face as he gazed upon her sister, but the adoration was easily discernible. Smiling, she squeezed Darcy’s arm tighter against her side, using the excuse of another pedestrian for the improper closeness. Their adventure was just beginning, yet already it was marvelous!
“This is also Georgiana’s first experience watching the Changing of the Guard ceremony,” Darcy informed them, as they crossed the active intersection. “Thus, it is an occasion worthy of making special arrangements. Come!”
Walking briskly with a spring in his step, he led them directly to the main gate, above which an enormous triangular clock hung, marking the approaching eleven o’clock hour. Pausing only to release the light grip of feminine hands on his arms, Darcy stepped to a smaller portal to the left of the gate and spoke to the sentry inside. A few moments later, he gestured to the others, and together they entered through the opened gateway into a high-vaulted and arched tunnel with white plastered walls.
Darcy & Elizabeth: Hope of the Future: Darcy Saga Prequel Duo Book 2 Page 13