An Engaging Friendship
Page 49
“Yes. How was your day?” He rose to kiss the top of his wife’s head.
“It was lovely, but I have had my fill of Mayfair for today. Now, please tell me what you can of Mr. Bingley.”
Darcy chuckled, as his wife sat on the settee with eager attention, and
announced, “Bingley is returning to Hertfordshire.” He again felt the success of the morning’s business, and stood proud while his tone was ripe with
satisfaction.
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped open and her eyebrows hit her hairline. “He is? For what purpose? Netherfield is to be let again. My mother told me while she was here.”
Perhaps, in years to come, Darcy might recognize the brief silence and facial expression as the precursor to having to admit he was wrong, but for now, he only creased his brow, confused at Elizabeth’s reaction. “I assume to court your sister,” he said slowly.
“He would not!” she hissed loudly. “What makes him think he can toy with a
woman like that?”
“I thought you would be pleased.” His frown creased his brow deeply, and he suddenly felt unsure if he had done the right thing. Would nothing go as he expected today?
“Why would I be pleased that a man who has already hurt my sister, and has
shown no strength of character, would attempt to court her? Do you not think it an arrogant presumption on his part to think that she has been waiting for his return all this time?”
Darcy groped for words. “Bingley is a very eligible suitor,” was the feeble reply.
“Jane does not need an eligible suitor. She needs a suitor she can trust and depend upon; one who has proven his affections for her will not wane.”
“Bingley has been pining for her all these months. It is the reason for his odd behaviour.”
“If his attachment was so great, what reason did he give for his abandonment last autumn?”
Darcy sat speechless. “He was… unsure of himself.”
“What makes him so sure of himself now?” Without a ready response, Darcy
was left to watch a play of emotions cross her face. He could tell the moment realization dawned. “He did not think Jane was high enough born,” she
exclaimed hotly. “But now that we are married…”
“That was not exactly it,” Darcy interrupted. “Whatever his reason, he has seen the error of his ways. He loves Jane, and wants to make amends.”
“And what of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst? I was not blind to the way they
treated Jane. Oh, they were all kindness when she was in the room, but do not ask me to believe they would sincerely welcome her as their sister.”
“Bingley is his own man. He may marry where he chooses.”
“But Mr. Bingley has always been eager to please them.”
Darcy felt his temper rising, even though he knew Elizabeth spoke the truth.
“He is truly remorseful for hurting Jane. I would not have sent him back to Hertfordshire if I did not believe he loved her.” When Elizabeth did not say anything, he added, “Jane will be good for Bingley. He needs someone who
will keep him focused.”
“How can you be so certain he will not abandon her again? You say he loves
her, but love was not enough to prevent him from leaving the first time.” She paused only long enough to take a calming breath. “How can you be certain
Mr. Bingley will defy his sisters’ wishes this time?”
For a long moment, Darcy said nothing. Elizabeth nodded, accepting he had no explanation, and then stood. “Excuse me. I need to see about lunch.”
“Elizabeth…” Darcy implored, but it was too late.
Not surprisingly, Elizabeth took her mid-day meal in her rooms, leaving a
morose Darcy at the whims of Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley. Though he tried
to appear upbeat, his silence, coupled with Elizabeth’s absence, made it evident not everything was well.
The remainder of the day, Darcy shut himself in his study. How had he erred so grossly? Had his concern for his friend, overridden his duty to his family?
Carefully, he reviewed his conversation with Elizabeth. She had not said Jane was not attached to Bingley, only that Bingley was not worthy of her sister.
That was at least a little promising. On the other hand, if Jane did feel anything for Bingley, Elizabeth would have been more apprehensive than angry, would
she not?
He rubbed a tired hand over his face. After all the times he had scolded
Elizabeth for trying to interfere, he had gone and bungled things in the worst way. Now Elizabeth was angry at him. And if Bingley did not follow through
with his intentions, all the Bennets would have every right to hate him.
Why had he not followed his own advice?
Of course, he could not undo the past, so the question was what to do now?
Should he try to stop Bingley from going Hertfordshire? Or should he let
things run their course and hope for the best?
A return to Hertfordshire had given his friend new hope, a reason to climb out of the bottle. How could he take that away? He had nothing to offer in return.
He could drag Bingley to Pemberley as a possible diversion, but that would no doubt bring Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. That was certainly no way to rectify things between him and Elizabeth. He needed another alternative.
He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache taking root.
It was not until dinner that evening that Darcy saw Elizabeth again. They both had spent the afternoon avoiding one another, but both were too stubborn to hide away in their rooms for long.
The frigid atmosphere made dinner conversation far from lively. Georgiana
attempted to draw them out, speaking of the morning’s activities, and a new drawing she had started, but received only modest nods and smiles for her
effort. As for the married couple, they hardly looked at one another, much less said anything.
After dinner, Elizabeth claimed she had matters of the house to attend to, and sequestered herself in her private parlour.
Darcy remained with his sister a bit longer, but then, unwilling to let things fester any longer, he went in search of his wife. After a gentle rap on her white, wooden door, he entered tentatively.
“Elizabeth, we can not continue like this.” When Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, his heart nearly broke.
“Tell me what to do to fix it,” he implored.
Elizabeth turned away for a moment, gathering her composure. “Tell me,
Fitzwilliam. Would you allow Georgiana to be courted by a man who had
abandoned her?” Darcy closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the ceiling, knowing precisely what he would do. He would thrash the man just before
throwing him out of the house.
“You did not see him, Elizabeth. Bingley was but a shadow of the man I know.”
“I saw him being overly friendly with another woman on the streets of town!
What more do I need to see?”
“Elizabeth, please. Bingley is in a bad way; I did not know what else to do. The merest ray of hope to see Jane again, and to speak with her, was incentive
enough to pull himself together. He wants to be worthy of her, and is willing to do whatever it takes. Can we not give him that chance?”
For several moments Elizabeth said nothing. She was being asked to choose
between her sister and her husband. She understood Fitzwilliam’s point, but how could she allow Jane to go through so much heartache again. “Very well,”
she said just above a whisper.
Darcy grabbed both of her hands and kissed them. “Thank you, my dear. I
know it is more than Bingley deserves, but I swear, if he disappoints her again, I will call him out myself.”
Elizabeth looked up at him. “Next time you see Jane, you can thank her. I
considered what Jane would say. She would tell
me that all men deserve
forgiveness, and I do not know all the circumstances around his leaving.”
“Jane is a very good woman.”
Elizabeth only nodded, but her sombreness showed her reservation in her
decision.
“Fitzwilliam, what shall you do if Jane rejects Mr. Bingley?”
“Do you think it likely?”
“I do not know.” She looked over at him to gauge his reaction when she said, “I believe she formed something of an attachment towards Colonel Fitzwilliam
before he left for the continent.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “I had not heard of any understanding. Surely, you
know if I had, I would not have sent Bingley to Hertfordshire.”
“Your cousin said nothing to you of being disposed towards Jane?”
Darcy hesitated. “He mentioned it, but I did not take it seriously. He is a second son!”
“Jane has granted him leave to call on her when he returns.”
Darcy shook his head. “What the devil can he be thinking?” He muttered a bit louder than intended.
“Perhaps that he loves my sister!” Elizabeth shot back, her eyes suddenly
ablaze.
“Elizabeth, please. That is not what I meant.” He let out a grunt of frustration.
“It is just that Richard can not provide for your sister as she deserves.”
“Jane does not need much. Do you think her affection so shallow she would
turn away a man simply because he lacked wealth?”
“You are purposefully misunderstanding me.” Seeing Elizabeth staring at him hotly, with her arms folded across her chest, he sent his eyes skyward. Good Lord, is this be what it will be like when Georgiana comes out? “I know Jane is not mercenary, but Richard was raised the son of an earl. He can barely afford his standard of living on his income. How will he support a wife and a family?
Truly, dearest, I am only thinking of Jane’s well being.”
“If they love each other, they will adapt.” With a twinkle of mischief in her eye, she added, “And thankfully, they will have a generous and rich brother and
sister to turn to if things become difficult.”
Darcy shook his head. He had been forgiven, but he wished to hear the words.
He gathered Elizabeth to him. “Elizabeth, you do know I never meant to harm you or your sister, do you not?”
He sighed in relief when Elizabeth laid her head against his chest. “I do,
Fitzwilliam.”
“If you truly wish me to speak to Mr. Bingley, I shall.” he murmured into her hair.
“It is done. If Jane does not feel anything for Mr. Bingley, we will leave it for her to say, and hope Colonel Fitzwilliam is able to return for her soon.”
“I am forgiven then?”
Elizabeth looked up at him teasingly. “On one condition. From now on, you
must leave matchmaking to others; you are very ill at the game.” She let out a squeal when Darcy scooped her up in her arms, and let out a growl against her neck.
The following day passed as though nothing was amiss. Meals were once again a lively affair, and Elizabeth and Darcy spoke easily with one another. The disagreement the previous day had truly been forgotten.
That evening, after returning from a dinner party, Elizabeth sat at the desk in her rooms, working on her correspondence. She had a few dinner invitations to extend, and wished to complete them before she retired for the evening.
Finding her ink well dry, and no spare, she made her way to Darcy’s rooms,
since it was much closer than her private parlour, and she was in but her
nightshift and dressing robe.
Not surprisingly, her husband had yet to make it to his rooms; he too had a few items of business he wished to finish before retiring. She opened the top drawer of her husband’s desk, and easily found an unopened bottle of ink. She was
about to close the drawer when she noticed a folded piece of paper with her handwriting on it. It did not appear to be one of her letters though, so she could not imagine what it would be. Curiosity overtook any reservations of invading her husband’s privacy, and she was mortified by what she saw.
Unsure of how he had come in possession of the item, or why he had kept it, she resolved to confront him on it. He would be retiring soon; she would ask him then. For the time being though, she had missives to pen.
Another half hour passed before Elizabeth heard a knock on the door. Quickly finishing her last invitation, she tucked the purloined piece of paper in the pocket of her dressing robe, and made her way to his rooms.
Patiently, she waited until they were both situated comfortably on the settee with some chamomile tea.
“Fitzwilliam? Where ever did you get this?” She handed him the paper from
her pocket.
It took Darcy but a moment to recognize it; he reddened immediately. He
snatched the paper from her hand and tucked it into his own pocket. “You were not supposed to find that,” he grumbled.
“But I have, and must know where did you get it?”
Darcy hesitated. “The day I came upon you practicing your letters at Lanelle House.”
Vividly remembering that day, it was Elizabeth’s turn to blush. “But why
would you keep it?”
“Because…” Darcy stammered. “Does it matter? I wished to keep it; that is all.
Would you prefer I burn it?”
Elizabeth could think of only one reason to keep something of that nature, and that was to humiliate her at a future date. Surely, her husband was not planning for something of that nature! “Yes!” came the emphatic cry.
“I can not.”
Elizabeth stared him down, letting him know she was expecting a explanation.
Finally, he pulled the paper out, unfolded it, and handed it to her while pointing to the place where she had written her name - Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy and
Elizabeth Darcy. “Because of this.”
Elizabeth’s brow crumpled in utter confusion. “I do not understand. It is my name.”
“At the time, I expected you to break our engagement.” He looked down at the floor. “It was the only proof I had that you were still considering marriage to me.” He turned away from her, trying to hide the evidence of the torture of those weeks. “When I had doubts, I would pull out that piece of paper. Now
you may laugh at me.” His tone was a mixture of embarrassment and dejection.
Laughter, however, was the last reaction Elizabeth thought to have at such a heartfelt confession. Carefully, she refolded it and slipped it and her hand into the pocket of his dressing robe. “That is perhaps the sweetest thing you have ever said. I would never deprive you of such a prized possession.”
Darcy wrapped his arms around her, holding her possessively. No more words were necessary.
After a few minutes, and reassured of her affections, he pulled back. “Now, madam, do you care to explain what you were doing rifling through my desk?”
Elizabeth giggled merrily. “I was looking for a new ink bottle. Mine had run dry, and I did not want to bother a servant.”
Darcy nodded suspiciously. “I see. I shall have Mrs. Brenton see that from now on, your desk is well stocked with pens, ink and paper.”
“But how else am I to uncover your secrets, my dearest husband.” She looked up at him coyly, though her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“I have no secrets from you, my Beth.” He pressed his lips ardently against hers, which she readily accepted.
They spent the rest of the night baring their bodies, hearts, and souls to one another.
The next few days passed with little fanfare, except for an early arrival of the summer heat. The warm weather brought talk of an early end to the Season.
The putrid smell of the Thames made those who could easily escape for the
cool clean air of country estates seriously consider the matter.
It was not at all surprising to Elizabeth that calls to Arryndale increased during this time. Though it was well known that invitations to Pemberley were only extended to the closest friends of the Darcys, with a new mistress, people were hopeful there would be a change to that policy.
As sociable as Elizabeth was, however, she was not of a mind to entertain
guests all summer long. Indeed, she wanted nothing more than to return to
Pemberley with Georgiana and Darcy, and pass the summer away quietly.
Not only that, her short time at Pemberley after their wedding had hardly been conducive to making her acquaintance with the other families in the area. It was a matter that would have to be remedied upon their return. As such, she had absolutely no intention of inviting other guests to their estate.
This, however, did not stop calls and the thinly veiled hints.
“Mrs. Hurst, Miss Sutton and Miss Bingley,” Mr. Cardwell announced, minutes after the departure of two other ladies. Elizabeth suppressed a heavy sigh, and had them shown to the parlour where she and Georgiana were having tea.
Miss Bingley entered the room with familiar ease, and greeted Elizabeth as if they had been life long friends. Still unaccustomed to the change, Elizabeth took a moment to return the greeting.
Miss Bingley looked around the room. “I simply adore what you have done with the room, Mrs. Darcy. Why the Pomona is the perfect colour!” With a
semi-sincere smile directed towards Miss Sutton, she added, “And it is so nice to see you have maintained an English style. Mrs. Hartley did her parlour in a Spanish décor, and it looks very ill, indeed.”
Elizabeth smiled politely. “Thank you, Miss Bingley. I understand you will be doing some redecorating of your own.” At Miss Bingley’s stricken look, she
added, “Mr. Darcy told me of your brother’s purchase of Wortham.”
Miss Bingley shot an alarmed look towards Mrs. Hurst before smiling politely at Elizabeth. “Yes. Wortham. I do wish he would have taken my advice and
found an estate more in the north. It would make visits to the Peaks and Lakes so much easier.”
An uneasy silence fell on the group, as everyone found it a good moment to