Darcy and Elizabeth--A Most Unlikely Couple

by Brenda J. Webb

  William sighed. “Given that I am not worried about her ability, neither should you be. Moreover, Elizabeth is my wife, and I expect you to treat her with respect.”

  “I have an excellent knowledge of decorum, thank you.” Georgiana said coldly, turning to look out the window.

  “Then tell me, if you are such a model of decorum, how is it that I found you alone with Attaway?”

  Her head swung around. “It is not as if we were in public. Besides, we were alone for only a few minutes.”

  “Have you considered that Lady Susan may be promoting a match between her cousin and you in order to gain access to me?”

  “Everything is not about you, Brother! Perhaps Lord Attaway simply finds me attractive. I hope so, for I think him very charming.”

  “You do not know him well enough to form an opinion,” William argued.

  “And you do? Have you already decided against him, just as you decided against George and Andrew without a word to me?”

  “I have sound reasons for my actions toward George and Andrew. You will just have to trust me.”

  “That is always your answer—trust me! Never a word of explanation! So tell me, what is it you dislike about Lord Attaway?”

  “I find him very arrogant for one so young, and someone of his self-importance has likely made many foolish mistakes already. I have only to learn what they are.”

  “I am sure that, if you try, you can find something not to like about anyone. But be forewarned, Brother. I like Lord Attaway, and I do not intend to dislike him simply because you do.”

  By then the carriage had slowed in front of Pemberley. Just as it came to a stop, Georgiana opened the door. She was poised to step out unassisted, and when the footman lowered the steps, she did just that. As William watched, she ran up the steps to the portico, disappearing into the house through the front door that was now open. William sighed deeply.

  I do not know if I shall survive both you and Elizabeth under one roof.

  Wearily, William stepped out of the carriage and followed Georgiana inside.

  PEMBERLEY

  After Dinner

  With Georgiana’s return, dinner was even more excruciatingly awkward for the Fitzwilliams than it had been before she left for London. Not only did she continue to act as though she was unhappy with their presence at Pemberley, but throughout the meal, she seemed determined to find something to criticise about Elizabeth’s taste. Everything from the menu to the new tablecloth and napkins displeased her; however, it was a question about a tenant that served as a catalyst for another row with her brother.

  “Elizabeth, did you have opportunity to visit Mrs. Becker?” Olivia Fitzwilliam asked innocently. “I could not help but wonder how she is faring, poor girl. She could barely walk when I visited.”

  Elizabeth smiled warmly at her aunt. “I did, and I gave her the bonnet you made for the baby. She said to tell you that it is lovely and to thank you for being so kind. As to her health, she is the same. She had nothing but praise, though, for the maid I sent to help her. She allows that Jessie has taken over the cooking and the wash, in addition to helping with Mazie, which was far more than she had expected.”

  “A maid? You loaned one of our maids to a tenant?” Georgiana said in disbelief. She sought the faces of the others at the table as she added, “Can Pemberley afford such generosity?”

  “I... ” Elizabeth bit her lip and glanced to William. He did not look up, though his head swung slowly side to side.

  Elizabeth swallowed hard. “It will not cost Pemberley a farthing. I explained to Mrs. Reynolds that I mean to pay her wages while she assists the Beckers.”

  Previously, William had been feigning interest in his pheasant, hoping not to get in another argument with Georgiana, but now he realised that that was not to be.

  “Elizabeth, why do you think you should pay the maid out of your account? Pemberley will pay her wages. After all, the Beckers are our tenants.”

  “It was my idea to loan them the maid, so I felt that I should pay for it.”

  “That is hardly the point!” Georgiana interjected. “Brother, do you not see the madness in a precedent of this nature? Now every tenant will expect similar treatment if they are incapacitated. Every broken bone or aching back will require that we send a servant to cook and clean.”

  Slowly William lay down his cutlery—a symbol of the gravity of what he was about to say. Then he focused entirely on his sister.

  “If Mrs. Darcy wishes to lend a servant to one of our tenants, that is her prerogative. I am quite certain that every gesture of benevolence will be predicated by circumstance. If a tenant is fortunate enough to have family who can help them, then that is another matter.”

  Elizabeth spoke quietly. “Fitzwilliam is right, Georgiana. I only sought to help Mrs. Becker because she has no family nearby and no one to send for help when the baby comes.”

  Georgiana shrugged. “As far as I know, Mother never thought something of that nature was necessary.” Standing, she dropped her serviette on the table. “If you will excuse me, I am weary from my trip. I am retiring.” With that, she left the room.

  A collective sigh of relief went up, though it went unacknowledged. For a time the room was silent as William stared solemnly at his plate, then he looked up and forced a smile.

  “Well, for once I am not ready for bed. Uncle, if you are finished eating, would you care to join me for a cigar?”

  Joseph Fitzwilliam was holding his wife’s hand under the tablecloth. He squeezed it in silent recognition of a chance to speak to his nephew alone.

  “Certainly.” As he stood he added, “Perhaps my wife will consent to exhibit on the pianoforte when we rejoin the ladies. In my opinion, no one can hold a candle to her talent on the instrument.”

  Every eye looked to Olivia, who smiled shyly. “I shall play if Elizabeth will agree to sing.”

  As William looked at her with a puzzled expression, Elizabeth crimsoned. “I sing a few Scottish tunes my grandmother taught me and only for pleasure. I dare say I am not proficient enough to entertain.”

  “Oh, but I beg to disagree. Do you remember when we were at the Beckers’ and I came outside to see if you wanted a cup of tea? You were sitting on the back steps singing ‘Barbara Allen’ 13 to Mazie. I never let on that I heard you, but I thought you sang beautifully.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “Mazie asked if I knew a certain song and, unfortunately, I did not. So, I sang that song, as I remembered the words to it.”

  “Will you sing it for us tonight?” Uncle Joseph asked.

  Elizabeth looked ill at ease. “I shall, but only if you will not insist that I do another.”

  “Then we have a bargain!” Joseph said. He slipped an arm around William’s shoulder and changed the subject as they went toward the door. “Richard said that you import cigars from the Americas. Is that correct?”

  When they could no longer be seen or heard, Olivia addressed Elizabeth. “Shall we hurry to the music room and practice?”

  “It seems you have left me no choice,” Elizabeth teased, though she looked unsettled. “I fear that Fitzwilliam will be greatly disappointed, since I have never sung in public.”

  “He will enjoy your singing, of that I am sure. And I shall not apologise for requesting that you sing. Fitzwilliam should know that you have talent. Men are proud of their wives’ performances, and I shall tell you a secret. According to my husband, they like to feel that you exhibit solely for them.”

  “But what if others are watching?” Elizabeth asked as they both stood.

  “The key is to act as though there are only the two of you. Look up while you are singing and meet his eyes lovingly. I promise that his regard will rise dramatically.”

  Elizabeth reached to squeeze her hands. “I shall take your advice.”

  THE SMOKING ROOM

  At the liquor cabinet, William poured first one glass, then another, of his finest imported brandy. When done, he held one out to his unc
le. A small smirk lifted the corners of his mouth.

  “This is the only reason I see Richard as often as I do. He declares it the best in the country, and he should know.”

  Sipping the amber liquid, Joseph Fitzwilliam stopped to laugh. “I can see why. After tasting this, I have to agree that the French certainly have the upper hand in the brandy market.”

  “And my source knows the very best that France has to offer and how to smuggle it out of the country. Lord Matlock has hounded me for years to divulge the information, but I struck a bargain, and I will not break my word.”

  “Then I can only imagine that it must drive him mad. My brother has always believed he could intimidate anyone into doing his will. In fact, in that aspect, he is exactly like Father.”

  By then William was standing before a table holding a large, wooden humidor. However, as he began to lift the lid, Joseph made a confession.

  “To be truthful, I would not care for a cigar. Livy has a cough much of the time now, especially when she lies down. Smoke seems only to make it worse. Even the smell of smoke on my clothes can trigger an episode.”

  William hurriedly closed the lid. “I had no idea. I shall not smoke, either.”

  “Please, do not abstain on my account or Livy’s. Any smoke on your clothes should not be a problem as long as she does not get too close.”

  “To be honest, I prefer brandy to cigars. I keep a supply on hand for my guests and join them in a smoke occasionally, for it is expected.”

  Joseph tossed the rest of his brandy down this throat. “A world of misery lies in that phrase.”

  William looked puzzled. “That phrase?”

  “It is expected,” his uncle repeated flatly. “When I was a boy, I never questioned my lot in life. I was an earl’s son, and I was expected to act in a certain way. And I did. By the time I left for university, I was sick of the hypocrisy of it all, especially in regards to marriage. Marriages of convenience, like that of my parents, more often than not made both parties miserable, as well as their offspring. We all knew of father’s succession of mistresses. Even mother knew, though I doubt she cared, for she lived her life apart from him—apart from us all, actually.”

  “I never—Mother never mentioned that.”

  “No. She would not have. Your mother was too kind-hearted and made excuses for both our parents.” Joseph stood and walked over to the liquor cabinet. “Do you mind?”

  “Of course not. Help yourself.”

  Joseph poured another glass of brandy and took a sip. “I was expected to follow Father’s order to marry a debutante he had handpicked for me. If I remember correctly, her dowry was a hundred-thousand pounds. It was exceedingly large, I suppose, in order to compensate for her, shall we say, equally large size. The poor woman weighed more than my horse.”

  William could not help but chuckle, though he covered his mouth. Undeterred, his uncle kept talking.

  “I was expected to redeem Father’s bad investments by sacrificing my life. But I had already fallen in love with Livy and could never have abandoned her. By then she was my life.”

  “You suffered greatly for your refusal to obey Grandfather,” William stated. “Mother often lamented the fact that you were ostracised by most of the family.”

  Joseph shrugged. “Looking back, it was the most intelligent decision I have ever made. I am grateful that God gave me the courage to choose my darling wife. She has made me very happy all these years.”

  “Even now, you have no regrets?”

  “My only regret is that I do not have another lifetime to love Olivia. This one has been much too short.”

  Deep in reflection, William silently replenished his own brandy. Then he stared absently at the liquor as he swirled it in the glass.

  “Fitzwilliam, clearly something is wrong between you and Elizabeth. You act like strangers, hardly spending any time together. Everyone has noticed. I dare say that you have not even fooled the servants.”

  William’s eyes closed and he grimaced. “I appreciate your concern, but I do not care to discuss my personal business, Uncle. Suffice it to say that we are not as compatible as I had hoped.”

  Joseph could not let William know that he knew everything; thus, he replied, “A broken heart is hard to hide, son.”

  “My heart is just fine, thank you,” William declared harshly, then immediately apologised.

  He began to pace the floor, as was his wont when he was upset. “I realise that you are only concerned for my well-being, but the problem with my marriage lies in the fact that I have no one to blame but myself for the outcome. I was too proud to listen to Richard’s advice or my own conscience when I decided to marry. Andrew had compromised Elizabeth by kissing her in public, and I thought the only solution was for us to marry. In hindsight, there were other ways I could have helped her that would have resolved the matter better—for her and for me.”

  “So you no longer fancy being married?”

  “I do not fancy being married to a woman who loathes me! I spent my adult life eschewing fortune hunters, for I desired a marriage of mutual affection. Look where it has gotten me.”

  “Why do you believe Elizabeth loathes you? I have seen no evidence of that. To the contrary, she seems eager to please you.”

  “I believe she loathes me because she has said as much. Before she left London, she made it perfectly clear that in her opinion I was the lowest form of rake. Why she is pleasant to me now I cannot imagine, unless being at Pemberley has opened her eyes to the privileges that come with being my wife. She may have decided that being tremendously wealthy and perchance having children will balance her distaste for my company. However, she certainly does not care for me.”

  “I disagree.”

  William stopped pacing as his head swung around. “How could you know better than I what is in her heart?”

  “I am a good judge of character, and I see it in her eyes. Elizabeth looks at you the same way Olivia looks at me.”

  William laughed mirthlessly. “No. I will never believe any woman’s affections can change that quickly.”

  “You are too cynical,” his uncle declared. “Any decent human being, shown the error of their ways, will begin to see the person they misjudged in a new light.”

  “A light coloured by money perhaps.”

  Undaunted, Joseph Fitzwilliam continued. “If she should apologise for her mistrust, would you forgive her that? Or would you continue to punish her because she was not in love with you from the start?”

  William looked shocked. “I... I have never thought in terms of punishing her. I was focused entirely on my failure. That is all.”

  “It is understandable that you may have acted unconsciously, but think on this. Forgiveness is essential to happiness—yours and hers. Search your heart. If you still bear any resentment against Elizabeth, forgive her. No matter her motivation for being here and even if she is not in love with you, forgive her. If you do, I know it will lift that burden that weighs so heavily on your shoulders. And you can never tell. You may just succeed in gaining the kind of marriage you always wanted.”

  William sighed heavily. “I shall think on what you have said. That is all I can promise.”

  Joseph put his hand on William’s shoulder. “That is all I ask. Now, shall we join the ladies and listen to some beautiful music?”

  LATER THAT NIGHT

  As William lay in bed that night, his uncle’s advice ran through his head. He had never considered that he was punishing Elizabeth, for since she had revealed her true feelings about him, he had been drowning in a river of regret—a river so deep that he could think of nothing beyond keeping his head above water.

  Suddenly he pictured Elizabeth as she had looked that evening. She wore a lovely rose-coloured gown and the same shade of roses in her hair. While his aunt had played the pianoforte, she had sung “Barbara Allen” with a Scottish burr.

  Amazed to learn that she had a beautiful voice, William had been equally amazed when
Elizabeth sought his eyes as she sang. Now, however, he dismissed that as purely coincidental. After all, his uncle sat next to him on the sofa, so she was likely just looking in that direction.

  Turning on his side, William clutched a pillow to his chest, trying to get comfortable. A few minutes later, he pulled another pillow over his head, for Elizabeth’s song kept running through his mind. It did not help, however, and it was only after several hours of tossing and turning that he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter 27

  Lambton

  As William came to the end of the main thoroughfare of Lambton and turned Zeus towards the foundlings’ home a hundred yards away, he spied the elderly vicar of Kympton and his wife, Mrs. Moody, standing in front of it, conversing with the children milling about. The vicar was nearing five and sixty, and William smiled to see him bend down, pick up a ball and toss it back to the children with the energy of a much younger man. A few years ago, several parishioners had hinted that the vicar was past his prime and needed to be replaced, but William had not agreed. Moody had been the vicar at Kympton for nearly thirty years, having been appointed by George Darcy, and had baptised him. So, to him, Mr. Moody was practically part of the Darcy family.

  Currently, in addition to his work at the church, Mr. Moody was ably handling much of the responsibility for the orphanage. In fact, the construction of the building three years past seemed to have reinvigorated the vicar and his wife, and they spent as much time there as possible. Both maintained that the children deserved to have elders who were quick with a hug and always ready to listen, even if they were related by concern and not blood.

  As these thoughts went through William’s head, Mrs. Moody spotted him and began to wave. That caused her husband to look up, and when he waved, the children followed suit. It brought a much-needed smile to William’s face, and he kicked Zeus into a trot, arriving at the front gate in only seconds. Several boys ran to the picket fence, hoping to be the one selected to take his horse. There were two boys roughly eight to ten years old and another who looked to be about twelve. William nodded to the older, red-haired, freckle-faced boy.