“Forgive my daughter, Lady Fitzwilliam,” came her father’s voice from behind the ladies. “I have made an attempt to teach her proper deportment and discourse these past weeks, but find it has come to naught.” He took Lydia by the elbow. “Come, Mrs. Bennet. Your daughter must be returned to your brother’s home, and she requires a chaperon.”
“Oh, let Mary accompany her. As Lizzy’s mother, it is my right to be here.”
Lady Fitzwilliam brushed by Elizabeth. “Have a servant come for me once this has been settled. I fear your father requires my absence.”
When her future aunt departed and they were in private, her mother puffed herself up. “See what you have done, Mr. Bennet! You have offended a countess!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I do not give a care for your reasoning, I shan’t leave.”
Her father stepped toe to toe with his wife. “Since you have exited the carriage, you have loudly exclaimed over the house, insisted on an introduction to Lady Fitzwilliam, and made a spectacle of yourself.”
While he spoke, her mother’s jaw dropped lower and lower; however, when she began to speak, he raised his hand. “I have allowed you to continue unchecked and to teach Kitty and Lydia the most dreadful manners. You think them accomplished and able to attract a husband, but I beg to differ—no gentleman will consider them as long as they are so unabashed and free with their words. I do believe Kitty has improved since I have taken more of an interest in their lives, yet Lydia has not. We have both created what she is, me by my lack of attention and you with your example. I have spent miserable evenings at social functions keeping her in check, and now, ‘tis only fair you have your share.”
“I have done naught to deserve such punishment!”
“I shall not return to my uncle’s! Mama claimed we would go to the theatre and balls while in London. We shall order new gowns—”
He gave an incredulous laugh. “Until you learn to behave, you are no longer out, young lady. Your place is in the nursery, not a ballroom.”
“Mr. Bennet!” exclaimed her mother as she fluttered her handkerchief.
He peered at Elizabeth and then, to his wife. “My Lizzy has endured enough today without your embarrassing antics. Come, it is time to depart.”
Her mother whipped around to face Elizabeth. “Lizzy does not object to my behaviour.”
Her chest burned, she swallowed the lump in her throat, and bit her lip. Her mother would be hurt if she responded with the truth. How could her father say such a thing!
When she could not make a sound emerge from her throat, her mother covered her mouth with her handkerchief as Elizabeth took a sudden interest in the rug beneath her feet, staring at the floral design.
“Come, Mrs. Bennet.”
A sniffle came from in front of her before it was concealed by the shrill objections of Lydia as she was led back to the hall.
“Oh, Lizzy! I am so sorry Papa scolded Mama and Lydia as he did.”
Aunt Marianne wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You were present as was I, Jane, when your father detailed his expectations for this visit. Your mother and Lydia chose to ignore him, Lady Fitzwilliam was kind to give us privacy, and no servants were present since she ensured they left with her. No harm was done.”
“I could not lie to Mama.”
“Nor should you.” Her aunt lifted her chin. “Your mother has wilfully ignored the effects of her behaviour on you girls for years. Now that Kitty and Lydia have emulated her to such an extent, it is imperative she learn.”
Elizabeth started and moved to ring the bell. “Lady Fitzwilliam indicated she would return once matters were settled.”
Kitty approached as she pulled the cord. “I hope you know I do not share Lydia’s sentiments.”
“You did not giggle or state any agreement to her words. I have no reason to hold them against you.”
“Thank you,” she breathed.
“I am happy to see you, Kitty.” Elizabeth embraced her younger sister before Mary approached to hug Elizabeth in greeting. “I am also pleased Papa’s rules have made an impression.”
“Oh, Lizzy! The ball at Netherfield was dreadfully dull! I want Papa to trust me if for no other reason than to keep company with my friends when I am not dancing.”
“I still cannot believe Papa danced with you.” Mary grimaced. “He gave me charge of Lydia for the half hour. I thought she would never cease her whining and complaining.”
“Lizzy?” Kitty grabbed her arm, but was staring at the entry. “Who is he?” Elizabeth followed her eyes to where Lady Fitzwilliam and Viscount Milton led her father into the room and made their way in her direction.
“The gentleman is Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Viscount Milton.” Elizabeth suppressed a laugh at the dramatic sigh that came from Kitty.
“He is quite handsome.”
Elizabeth tilted her head as she appraised the man in question. She supposed he was attractive. He was not as dark as Fitzwilliam, and Fitzwilliam’s blue eyes were more to her liking than Milton’s green.
“He is coming towards us. How should I behave?”
With a smile, Elizabeth bumped Kitty’s shoulder. “Should you question whether you are proper, think of Jane’s comportment in public, but be no one other than yourself. Be amiable, but guard your heart. I imagine he will seek a wife amongst his father’s political allies. Despite my betrothal to Mr. Darcy, we are still the daughters of a country gentleman. Not many men of society would consider us.”
They each took seats and a conversation began as though the events of the Bennets’ arrival had never happened. Lady Fitzwilliam took an instant liking to Jane, who was invited to spend the season with the Fitzwilliams. By the familiar twinkle in the older woman’s eye, she had a gentleman in mind for Jane.
Her father accepted the glass of port Milton offered as he watched more than he spoke. If one did not know better, they might believe him at a play rather than a family gathering.
Mary clasped her hands in her lap as she sat without speaking. She responded with politeness to any questions posed to her, but did not venture into the discussion further, while Kitty made more of an attempt to join the group, particularly when Georgiana entered and introductions were made.
After an hour, Elizabeth checked the clock. Half-seven? She took a sip of her sherry as her father took the seat beside her. “I am certain he will return soon.”
With her thumb, she turned her ring so the setting was once again on top of her finger. “I just wish Colonel Fitzwilliam could have dealt with the matter. Fitzwilliam was injured. He should be home, resting.”
“He would not be the honourable gentleman you love had he done so. I admire his dedication to ensuring your safety.”
“Am I being unreasonable?”
He smiled. “Perhaps a mite. I am unaware of how serious an injury he sustained, so I cannot judge the situation fairly.”
A giggle came from Kitty, drawing their attention. “I do believe you are correct about Kitty’s improvement. Regardless of her reasons, she has made an effort to change.”
“She has given a reason for her alteration?”
“Kitty does not wish for your constant companionship at the next assembly.”
His eyes twinkled with the upturn of one side of his lips. “I should have suspected as much, yet I agree with you. If I have no cause to worry for her behaviour, I shall allow her some freedom. Can you imagine what Lydia’s response will be?”
“Kitty is older, and if she has proven herself, she deserves her reward.”
“I agree. Perhaps the perceived insult might prompt Lydia to correct herself.” He rubbed a hand to the back of his neck. “Then again, I doubt it will do a thing. Her recalcitrance is remarkable.”
Voices resonated through the hall, and her head turned to the door. “You must not give up on her, Papa.”
“A part of me wishes I could, but I shall not.”
The door opened and Fitzwilliam’s eyes scanned the room until they rested upo
n her. He did not tarry or pause, but strode directly to her side, kneeling by the chair. “Are you well?”
“I shall have a sore spot upon my head for a week or so, but Mr. Baines gave me leave to resume my usual activities.” She covered his hand that rested on the arm. “What of your injury?”
“’Tis but a scratch.”
Why did he look to her father before he answered? She lifted her brows. “You are attempting to prevent my worrying. It will not work.”
Her father laughed behind her. “I would never hide a thing from my daughter, son. She will learn the secret whether you want her to or not.”
“Fortunately, Mr. Baines has trained as a surgeon. He sewed the wound, which now smarts and throbs, closed.”
“Why could you not tell me that in the first place?”
“I sent Richard for a vicar, and I thought you might not marry me tonight if you believed my injury too grave.” His eyes remained upon her cheek as he spoke in low tones.
“You are a ridiculous man, Fitzwilliam Darcy.” He gave a jump and looked her in the eye. “Perhaps I would marry you tonight in order to persuade you to rest.” Her heart quickened as he studied her.
“So you will? Tonight?”
“We had planned for two days hence. What difference does a few hours make?”
Her grin matched his as he stood. “I should refresh myself before Richard returns.”
She rose and grabbed his sleeve. “What of the man who attacked us?”
“I shall tell you later. We still have Wickham, who might cause mischief, but I should not be followed any further. All threats from that quarter are at an end.”
“You are certain?”
“The man from the street is in prison. He will be moved to Newgate in the next few days. While questioning him, he divulged who was behind the entire incident. The story is a long and confusing one, and though it is done, I am certain there is information missing from what we do know.”
“But you will tell me all later?”
He reached out and brushed a curl back from her cheek. “I promise.”
“I beg your pardon,” her father’s voice interrupted from behind. “But did I hear you say you intend to wed tonight?”
The room, which had maintained a low hum with the entire group’s conversation, was overcome with a sudden quiet. “You intended to wed on Wednesday as it is, Brother.” Georgiana’s tone was incredulous.
Lady Fitzwilliam’s lips twisted into a wicked grin. “Lizzy was seen by all and sundry on Bond Street carried into a carriage by your brother and placed in his lap.”
Her father’s one eyebrow rose. “You were?”
Her entire body burned as Georgiana and Kitty covered their mouths to restrain their amusement. Aunt Marianne grasped Mary’s arm before she could spout some proverb or religious quote.
Georgiana gave a sharp inhale. “She was placed in the mistress’ suite when they returned from Bond Street.”
“Yes, she was,” agreed Lady Fitzwilliam.
Fitzwilliam stared at the floor as his shoulders shook. He was laughing! Her respectability was in question, and he found it humorous?
Uncle Gardiner came to stand by her father. “We have had a deuce of a time keeping them within the bounds of propriety.”
She began to shake as she opened her mouth. How could he? Her father’s hands to her shoulders halted her tirade before she could begin.
“Your uncle and I discussed the possibility upon learning of today’s events. I am afraid we are all having some fun at your expense, though you might keep in mind that the levity is also beneficial after such an ordeal. Forgive us.”
Aunt Marianne stood and put an arm around her shoulders. “I packed the remainder of your belongings today—including the rose gown you had saved for a special occasion. I believe your wedding fits such a description.”
Her eyes stung and blurred. Of course, Aunt Marianne would remember. “It does indeed.” She peered at all assembled. “But what of Mama and Lord Fitzwilliam?”
“My uncle stopped at Clarell House to dress for dinner.”
“We can send for your mother, as well, Lizzy. She will need to return to mind Lydia when the ceremony is completed as I do not want Marianne’s servants to quit on account of your youngest sister’s ire.”
“Lydia will remain at Uncle’s, will she not?”
He glanced around at everyone. All were laughing and once again enjoying each other’s company. “Yes, I know if I had exerted myself sooner, I would not have to work so hard to control her, yet it must be done. I may have begun this to prevent her from being ensnared by Wickham, but if she does not learn, she alone could be our ruin. After witnessing her behaviour with the officers, I am convinced she would not think twice about eloping with one of them. Her mind would pretend the repercussions did not exist and she would declare it all a romantic adventure.
“Lydia embarrassed you earlier, as did your mother. I have ignored or found amusement in those antics in the past. I shall not do so in the future.”
She embraced her father and sniffed. “Thank you, Papa.”
As he withdrew, he patted her arm. “Well, I thought of marrying her to Mr. Collins and saving myself the bother, but after your abrupt departure for London, he decided Charlotte Lucas suited him better.”
“What?”
“Oh!” He reached into his pocket and removed a letter. “She asked me to pass this along to you. No doubt, it contains the announcement.”
“Charlotte and Mr. Collins?”
“Not everyone has your good fortune, my dear.” His lip curved to one side as she took the missive. “She is reaching seven and twenty and no one in our neighbourhood has taken an interest in her. He is likely the sole proposal of marriage she can expect.”
A warm hand rested upon the small of her back. “Your father is correct. Mr. Collins may not be an ideal husband to your way of thinking, but he is a prudent choice for Miss Lucas. She will have her own home. With Bingley and Anne taking charge of Rosings, she should be content in her situation.”
Her heart hurt. Charlotte could not love such an idiot. Her dear friend would never know the contentment of coming home to someone who holds a part of her soul. Her first kiss would be one of obligation without the all-encompassing thrill that curls your toes and makes you dream of more. The notion was heart breaking.
“She is not you, Elizabeth. Her concerns are different.”
Her father clapped his hands together. “I must arrange for a carriage lest your mother remain with Lydia. She would never forgive me the impolitic cruelty of not witnessing her daughter married to a wealthy man.” After he stepped to the door, he spoke a few words to Jobbins and departed as her aunt pulled at her shoulders.
“We should get you changed. When the vicar arrives, we do not want to keep him waiting.”
She caught Fitzwilliam’s eye and curved her lips upward. “No, Aunt. I have no intention of being late to my own wedding.”
Nothing but a warm contentment settled in his chest as his arm rested upon the back of the sofa, his thumb tracing light circles on the back of his bride’s neck. How he wanted to whisk her up to their suite! Yet, while her father departed with her mother after the ceremony, the remainder of their family had not followed their good example and remained chatting in the drawing room after dinner. This was his wedding night. Would they never leave?
He leaned close to her ear. “You are tired.”
“My head aches.”
His hand cradled her head as his thumb stroked across her cheek. She bore dark circles under her eyes, visible indications of the long, strenuous day they just put behind them. With their marriage, they had, at least, made the day a happy one, as that event would take precedence in their minds. “Then we should get you upstairs.”
“Fitzwilliam…”
Before she could protest, he rose and pulled her to stand with his good arm. “If you will excuse us, Elizabeth is feeling unwell as am I.”
“Y
ou are throwing us from the house, then.” A glint in Richard’s eye indicated they would be teased mercilessly for this.
“Hush, son,” chided his aunt, “they were both injured today unless you have forgotten.”
After a barrage of well wishes and hugs, the remaining members of their families departed, a collective exhale escaping from the servants as well as the bride and groom when the door closed behind them.
“Jobbins, please have some willow bark tea brewed and delivered—”
He smiled and laced his fingers with hers. “Have the tea brought to our sitting room.” With a tug of her hand, he started towards the stairs, but made an abrupt stop on the first step. “And remove the knocker. We are not at home to callers, though we shall see family if they have news of great importance.”
Jobbins bowed. “Yes, sir.”
After a glance down to his wife’s pink cheeks, he led her into their sitting room where he wrapped her in an embrace. “In case you have forgotten, this door leads to your bedchamber.” One arm held her secure to his chest while he pointed with the other. He swapped arms, pointing left this time. “That door leads to mine.” His lips tasted a velvet soft bit of flesh behind her ear. “What will we do while we await our tea?”
Her lips brushed his. “I thought we would change into our nightclothes. I have a hairpin digging into the bump on the back of my head that I am desperate to remove.”
One by one, he found each offending pin and collected the lot in his palm as she giggled. “I must comb my hair, Fitzwilliam, or it will become a mess of tangles.”
His fingers raked through her loose auburn curls. How he adored her hair! Her long tresses sprang from his grasp as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Then you should ring for your maid. While you prepare, I shall have my valet help me change for the night. When I am ready, I shall return and await you here.”
With lowered lashes, she withdrew and made for her chambers, looking back with a small smile before she closed the door. She was his!
His triumph was short lived as the throbbing of his shoulder intensified. He tilted his head to the left. Perhaps the pain would ease a bit… no, bad idea! Hopefully, the willow bark tea would bring some relief. He had no desire to be rendered unconscious by laudanum on his wedding night!
Particular Intentions Page 30