Trapped at Rosings

by Emily Russell

  “And love?”

  Darcy hesitated. He stared at her then looked away. Elizabeth smiled sadly.

  “Come, Mr Darcy. There is no use in pretending. We are about to enter a loveless marriage. Neither of us cares about the other as a husband and wife should. I am touched by what you say, but it is a pretence.”

  Darcy poked at the grass with his cane. His face was stricken. Elizabeth felt a rush of compassion. Poor man. He wanted this marriage even less than she did. He was trying to make the best of it even if he had to marry someone he did not love.

  “I am sorry for speaking so harshly,” she said. “And I am aware I am not the only one who does not desire this. You have no more wish to marry me than I do you. I am glad you are willing to try at least.”

  Darcy still said nothing. They walked on. Elizabeth glanced up at his face, trying to guess his thoughts but he seemed far away. Whatever he was thinking of, it was not pleasant.

  A worrying thought struck her; he was not in love with someone, was he? Not with her but perhaps there was another lady he wished to marry? And perhaps his engagement to her prevented him from being with the woman he truly loved. It was not a pleasant idea. To be married to a man who didn’t love her was bad enough, but to be married to a man who preferred another was far worse. Not to mention how it would make him feel. But of course, she would never know if this was true. She could not ask him such an indelicate question, and he was too much of a gentleman to answer it even if she did. She could only hope it was not true or it would make an unpleasant situation far worse.

  “You spoke of your plans for after our marriage,” she prompted after the silence had extended some minutes.

  “Yes.” Darcy’s voice was flat. “As I said, I hope you will agree to our living arrangements.”

  “I had not— “ she hesitated as she considered how to phrase her question. “I had not imagined we would spend much time together, considering the nature of our relationship. I know several couples where one spouse lives in the countryside and the other in town. They see each other but rarely. I confess I imagined we would have a similar arrangement.”

  “And is that what you want?” Darcy’s voice was cold. “I had not thought you could endure the sight of me so little.”

  Elizabeth paused. She was more and more perplexed by his manner. “None of this is what I want…”

  “Yes, so you have said. Repeatedly.”

  “And I have also repeatedly said I am aware you share my feelings. I am not so arrogant as to see this as a punishment for myself alone. I know you want none of this.”

  “Miss Bennet, do you wish us to live a marriage where we are estranged from one another?”

  “I do not know… “ She recalled her promise to her aunt. “No, I do not believe so. I would like us to spend time together to give us a chance to grow closer. We will never love one another like a normal couple, but perhaps we might develop a close friendship.”

  Darcy walked on. “It would be out of the question for us to live apart anyway, at least for the first few years.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him questioningly.

  “Couples do not usually live apart until the wife has delivered an heir. And I will expect an heir for Pemberley, Miss Bennet. However this marriage came about, it will not change one of my principal concerns with marrying.”

  “Oh.” Elizabeth was shocked he would state the issue so starkly. The idea of having Mr Darcy’s child, of what that would mean, had already struck her, but each time she thought of it, she pushed the issue from her mind. She could not allow herself to consider it. It was all too strange. But she was realistic enough to know it would be necessary once they married. “Yes, I — I understand that.”

  Her face flamed and the sight of her distress made Darcy soften. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet. I spoke too bluntly. Yes, I will expect an heir, but it need not happen right away. It will only happen when you are ready. Do you understand me?”

  Elizabeth nodded, but for a moment she was too embarrassed to speak. “Yes, I understand.”

  “And as to us living together and spending much time together, I agree with you. We must at least attempt to achieve harmony. Even if we do not love one another.” There was a slight bitterness in his final words which Elizabeth put down to his distaste for the whole situation. For all his efforts, he was even less reconciled to it than she.

  “I am glad we can agree on that much at least,” she said before they walked on.

  Despite the beauty of their surroundings, it was not an enjoyable walk. Elizabeth could not be easy in Darcy’s presence, and she hardly knew what to say to him. The situation was too distressing. If she had been required to marry Wickham, how different might her feelings be?

  But no, she could not allow herself to think that way. Wickham would marry Mary King, and she would marry Darcy. She could not allow herself to imagine anything else.

  Chapter 15

  They returned to the house for breakfast. Georgiana at least exerted herself to talk to Elizabeth’s family, but Mr Darcy’s odd mood grew darker as the morning progressed. He hardly heard Mrs Gardiner when she addressed him, and she had to repeat herself several times. Elizabeth had an idea, a certain dread, that he would wish them to spend the day together, and she did not know whether she was troubled or relieved when he took his leave. Her family had the same expectation she did and took the news of his departure with surprise.

  “Well, sir, I do not believe there is any need to stand on ceremony now,” said Uncle Gardiner. “Not when you are so soon to be family. You are welcome here any time you wish to see Lizzy.”

  “Of course,” Elizabeth murmured in agreement. “I hope I will see you later, Mr Darcy.”

  “Not today,” he said in that terse tone of his. “I have been away from London for some time and have other matters to attend. But I will be here in the carriage by ten o’clock tomorrow to take you to Darcy House.” He bowed and left with his sister.

  “He seems out of humour,” said Jane. “I hope it is not his injury giving him trouble?”

  “You have known Mr Darcy as long as I have, Jane. When is he ever in humour?” Elizabeth replied.

  Her words were not entirely true. Darcy had been in as good a humour as she had seen him when he first arrived and they walked together. Somewhere during their conversation, his mood had darkened as if something upset him. If only there were a way out of this situation for both of them, but she did not see how there was. She could not end the engagement and be responsible for the impact it would have on her sisters. No, she and Darcy would have to marry and do the best they could.

  Elizabeth told her family she was still tired and went to her room ostensibly to sleep but in reality to stare out the window at the street below and ponder her situation. If she spent more time with Mr Darcy, she would grow as prone to dark moods as he himself. Eventually, she turned to the writing desk. Aunt Gardiner had once told her that when she was confronted with a difficult situation with another person and could not work out her feelings, that she should write a letter to that person where she said all she wished to say, and then burn it afterwards without sending it. Perhaps it would help her now. It could not hurt.

  It was late afternoon just before dinner when Elizabeth came down the stairs to rejoin her family.

  “A package came for you, Lizzy,” said her aunt as she broke a piece of thread for one of the children’s stockings. She nodded towards the sideboard where Elizabeth saw a box wrapped in brown paper.

  “Is there a note to say who it is from?” she asked as she removed the wrapping.

  “Who do you think, you foolish girl,” said Mrs Gardiner. Elizabeth could hear the smile in her voice as her heart pounded.

  “Oh, Lizzy,” whispered Jane as she opened the box. She joined her when she came downstairs. Inside the box nestled an emerald necklace and earrings, exquisitely crafted into the shape of oak leaves. “They are so beautiful.”

  Elizabeth stared at the delicate piec
es of work. So this is what it meant to be Mrs Darcy. She hardly knew what to think of it.

  A small note was tucked under the jewellery cushion. Mr Darcy’s handwriting was unfamiliar to her. To think it would soon be as well known to her as her own.

  Dear Miss Bennet,

  I am taking the liberty of a betrothed to send you this gift along with this note. Consider them a betrothal gift. I have arranged to take you and your family to the theatre tomorrow night, and it would please me very much if you would wear them,

  God bless you,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy. Her husband. Her betrothed. It was all so strange. What was her life to be like with such a man? She traced her finger over the design. She was sure she had hurt him by her frequent reference to their lack of desire to marry. Writing her letter helped her see that. She could not blame him for it. They both knew how they felt and repeating it would have no other effect than to wound him. Darcy was trying at least, and she would need to meet his efforts if they were to have any hopes of a harmonious union. She promised herself that tomorrow, she would do better.

  Once again, Darcy waited for Elizabeth when she came downstairs the following morning. He bowed to her, and she scanned his face to see if his dark mood had passed. He seemed in better spirits but not by much.

  “Thank you for my gift,” said Elizabeth. “They are exquisite. The leaf design is just what I would have chosen for myself.”

  Darcy nodded. His face was still severe, but there was a slight smile about his lips. “Yes, I thought you might. I saw them at a shop near Hyde Park yesterday evening, and I knew at once they were meant to be yours. I asked the merchant to send them here at once. They are very — Elizabeth.” He said her name carefully as if unsure how she would respond. Elizabeth smiled. She touched his arm to lead him away from her family who were busy talking among themselves to give them privacy.

  “I have been thinking over the matter,” she said. “And I would like it if you were to call me Elizabeth from now on.” His eyes widened, and she hurried on, half afraid he might take offence and see it as a sign of vulgarity. “It is not unusual for affianced couples to call each other by their first names, after all. But if you dislike it— “

  “I like it,” he said firmly. “I like it very much. I would be honoured to call you Elizabeth. And what shall you call me?”

  “Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth said with a mischievous smile.

  “If you like.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, it will confuse me too much with your cousin. Might I call you Darcy? It is still informal enough.”

  “If you prefer. My sister calls me William or Wills when she is in a rare mischievous mood. But I am not opposed to my wife having her own name for me.”

  “Well perhaps I will one day not be so in awe of you that I will call you Wills, but until then, you shall be Darcy.”

  “I have never for a moment found you to be in awe of anyone, least of all me.”

  “Oh, you are quite terrifying, you know. I am sure I cannot be in your presence without trembling.”

  “Well, you do a masterful job of hiding it.” He smiled at her, a real smile that reached his eyes. How different he looked. Perhaps Elizabeth could teach him to smile and laugh more often. If she could succeed, he might prove to be an agreeable companion. He was already intelligent and honourable apart from his dealings with Wickham. He knew about many subjects being widely read. If she could encourage him to laugh at himself, he might be someone she would be, if not happy, then at least content to live with.

  Darcy House was a magnificent mansion in Grosvenor Square, one of the most fashionable addresses in London. The servants lined the hallway to meet their future mistress. Elizabeth smiled and nodded, but she could scarcely believe she was to be in charge of such a place, all because she had the misfortune to be locked in a cottage overnight.

  “I will show you over the house later,” said Darcy. “But first, I thought you might like to take tea with those who are eager to see you again.”

  He showed her into a drawing room where Georgiana sat with Fitzwilliam and Anne. They rose at once to greet her. Georgiana and Fitzwilliam smiled, and Anne seemed more at ease than Elizabeth had seen her before. While Elizabeth had always noticed how ill she appeared, she’d also had a haunted look about her Elizabeth had not recognised until it was no longer there. The parting from her mother seemed to agree with her.

  “Well, Miss Bennet, I hope you will like your new house,” said Fitzwilliam cheerfully from his seat beside Anne. “I have been telling Darcy for years it wants a mistress and it is high time it had one.”

  Elizabeth smiled, but she felt troubled. Fitzwilliam spoke as if they married by choice as if their union was a cause for celebration. Not a patched up attempt to save her reputation.

  “You are two years older than I am, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy. He took the chair beside Elizabeth and stretched his long legs out before him. “I do not see you in any hurry to rush down the aisle.”

  “Ah, us poor soldiers never know where we are to be sent from one week to the next. I could not subject a wife to such a life.”

  “But suppose you met a woman who loved you and was happy to make the sacrifice to be with you? It would not be your place to deny her the right to decide what is best for her,” said Elizabeth.

  “That is true, but where am I to find such a woman? I am a younger son, you know.”

  “Ah yes, the younger son of an earl must suffer greatly,” said Elizabeth with an arch look. “I cannot imagine your pains and struggles. I, as a woman, cannot conceive of living in a world where I am not in a position to inherit.”

  “Touché, Miss Bennet,” said Fitzwilliam with a laugh. “Well, I am not averse to marriage, but I must find the lady willing to have me first.”

  “Perhaps you should pay better attention to who is around you,” said Elizabeth. Since she came into the room, she could not avoid noticing how Anne looked at her cousin. Her eyes were filled with him, and she had a rosy blush about her that had been absent at Rosings Park. “You could find her anywhere.”

  “Your advice, Miss Bennet shall lead me,” said the Colonel with a bow of his head.

  They spoke more, then Darcy offered to take her over the house. The rest of the party declined to join them. The housekeeper stepped forward, but Darcy shook his head and expressed a desire to show Elizabeth himself. He escorted Elizabeth from the room.

  “These were my mother’s,” he said, showing her into a beautiful suite of rooms with a bedchamber and a dressing room and a small sitting area, decorated in whites and sky blue. “She chose these colours when she married my father. I hope you will do the same for yourself now you are to be my wife.”

  Elizabeth walked around the room and looked at everything, blushing to think this should all be hers. She walked to the dressing table to look out at the view overlooking the small park outside. As she did, she nudged the table with her hip, sending something small and metallic to the floor. Darcy picked it up.

  “This was her favourite ring,” he said as he held it out for her to see. “My father gave it to her on the fifth anniversary of their marriage.”

  It was a beautiful ring, delicately worked in gold with silver engravings. She looked at it closer and saw the letter D for Darcy.

  “It is exquisite,” she said. She touched it with a finger to trace the design.

  “Would you like it?”

  “I can not— “

  “You can. You are to be my wife.”

  Elizabeth hesitated. No matter how often she heard it, she could not get used to it. She nodded. He took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger.

  “It suits you,” he said approvingly. “My mother intended me to give it to my wife.”

  He looked at her with — Elizabeth might have called it approval or even admiration if she were not already clear on what he thought of her attractiveness. Perhaps his admiration was for the ring.

&nbs
p; “I would like to go home to Longbourn by the end of next week,” she said. “I will want to be with my family, and we will have much to do to prepare for the wedding.”

  Darcy nodded. “Bingley still has the lease of Netherfield. I will ask him if I may stay there. I will ride over every day.”

  “You mean to come with me to Hertfordshire? To stay, I mean?”

  Darcy frowned. “Yes. Why not? It is only fitting I should accompany my betrothed. I will need to speak with your father as well.”

  “I thought you might stay in London. You did not like Hertfordshire.”

  Darcy’s eyes were serious as he looked at her. “I told you there were lots of things I liked about it. Not least of all your company.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened as Darcy turned away. He enjoyed her company? Surely he meant only to convince himself of it if they were to try with this marriage. But she collected there were plenty of occasions where Darcy had sought her out and spoke with her. Perhaps he liked her pert manners? They might have been refreshing after the fawning attentions of Miss Bingley.

  Chapter 16

  The theatre throbbed with crowds when Elizabeth and Darcy arrived. Elizabeth glanced back at her aunt, uncle, and sister, and they nodded reassuringly. Darcy offered her his arm, and she took it.

  “I am pleased you wore the earrings,” he said quietly. “They suit you.”

  Elizabeth murmured her thanks in a low voice. It was her first time being seen with Mr Darcy as his fiancée. A group of fashionably dressed men and women held court at the centre of the room, and they turned their heads as they approached. They waved their hands to greet Darcy, then looked Elizabeth up and down and fell to whispering at once. Elizabeth glanced up to see Darcy looking unconcerned by the disturbance they had caused. She wondered how he could appear so easy, given his reserve.

  When the usher announced that everyone should take their seats, Elizabeth and her family turned by habit to their usual door by which they entered the theatre. Darcy put his hand over hers to stop her.