by AmyJ
Georgiana giggled, and then let out a yawn.
Taking that as a cue to let the girl get some rest, Elizabeth and Darcy both stood. After seeing her comfortably settled, they each kissed her on the
forehead and then departed.
The following day, Georgiana had improved, but was still unequal to visiting Rosings, so Darcy once again visited alone. He had barely rid himself of hat and gloves, when Lord Matlock greeted him. “Darcy, I would speak to you a
moment.”
Together, the two made their way to family parlour. The general mood of the great house was decidedly uplifted, no doubt due to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s
improved health. Darcy took a seat and accepted the glass of wine his uncle gave him.
“I wish for you and Georgiana to dine with the rest of the family tonight,” Lord Matlock stated after dispensing with the usual pleasantries.
Darcy froze for a minute. This was not what he had expected. Carefully, he
asked, “Does this invitation extend to my wife as well?” He sipped his wine, watching his uncle’s reaction. When Lord Matlock took a drink before
responding, Darcy knew it did not. Still, he waited for his uncle to confirm it.
“I am not at liberty to extend that offer,” Lord Matlock replied evenly.
“Then you know my answer. Until my wife is welcome, neither I nor my sister will dine at Rosings.”
“Darcy, be reasonable. You are doing yourself no favour in refusing to even dine here.”
“I am here for Richard’s sake, and his alone. Were his situation not so grave, my family and I would depart for Pemberley on the morrow.”
“A single dinner at Rosings would go a long way in healing the breach between Lady Catherine and yourself. Surely, you can see the wisdom of that.”
“Lady Catherine’s disappointed hopes are of her own making. I will not
disrespect my wife to placate my aunt’s ego. If there is not anything else you wish to discuss, I shall take my leave.”
“I do not comprehend you, Darcy. You will throw off your entire family for a woman of inconsequential means whom you married only to avoid marriage to
Anne?” Darcy turned such a dark glare towards his uncle that Lord Matlock
immediately retreated. “I can not blame you in that regard. Truly. Elizabeth is an intelligent woman; surely she would understand and not take offence.”
“My reasons for marrying Elizabeth are inconsequential,” Darcy said between gritted teeth. “She is my wife. Regardless of her connections, she is Mrs. Darcy and Mistress of all my properties. Until Lady Catherine recognizes that fact, I will not remain at Rosings any longer than necessary.” His voice softened, as he added, “You and Lady Matlock, and Stephen and his wife are, of course,
welcome to dine with us at any time at Brandyhatch.”
Lord Matlock was silent for some time, his lips pursed in agitation. Finally, he sighed heavily in resignation. “Very well. How long do you intend to stay in the area?”
Darcy took a sip wine, steadying his emotions. “I have not decided. I am told Elizabeth’s sister will be arriving at Hunsford this afternoon, and Elizabeth is anxious to see her. I suspect we will remain in Kent for at least a few more days.”
“Very well, Darcy. But think on what I have said. This… situation… is not
good for anyone.”
Darcy nodded, and then took his leave, intent on visiting with Colonel
Fitzwilliam. On his way, he ran into Stephen. It took but a shake of the head to answer the question visible in his cousin’s face, but so there could be no
misunderstanding, Darcy clapped Stephen on the shoulder. “She is my wife,
Stephen.” He could not help the smile or the way his dimples peeked out as
said the word wife. “That is all that needs to be said.”
Stephen’s lips curled into a secret smirk, but he simply said, “I told father you would not relent.”
“Your father should have listened to you. It would have saved us both time and agitation.”
The topic was dropped, and the two made their way upstairs.
The following day, Elizabeth was up early. Jane had arrived at Hunsford, and she was anxious to see her sister. She would be infringing on Charlotte’s time, but was certain her friend would understand.
“You are anxious to be off this morning, dearest. Have you become bored with me already?” Darcy teased.
Elizabeth greeted her husband with a kiss on the cheek. “Of course not. It is only I have not seen Jane in nearly two months, and I am anxious for… news
from Hertfordshire.”
Darcy raised a brow, showing he understood his wife’s meaning. “I had a letter from Bingley the other day.” As expected, Elizabeth gave her husband her full attention. “He reported some progress on the improvement he was doing to
Netherfield, but there was little mention of your sister.”
Elizabeth’s brow wrinkled and she frowned.
“He mentioned he had visited your family, but not much more.”
Elizabeth was silent for several minutes, as she tugged at a loose curl. Then somewhat abruptly, she looked up at her husband. “I shall see what Jane has to say.” She quickly amended her comment. “If she still harbours an attachment to Mr. Bingley, I shall be happy for both of them.”
Darcy kissed his wife’s forehead and then said, “I have a surprise for you.” He grinned as Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “Fitzwilliam, you should not have.”
“I must confess to some selfish motivation in this, but come, let me show you.”
Grabbing his wife’s hand, he led her outside to a waiting phaeton.
“I rented it for the duration of our stay. You should be able to come and go as you please, especially now that your sister is nearby.”
Elizabeth threw her arms around her husband. “Fitzwilliam! You are too good to me.”
Darcy planted a firm kiss on her lips and then said, “You will promise to drive carefully? I could not bear it if something happened to you.”
“I shall be very careful. Come,” she said, pulling him towards the vehicle. “We can go for a ride this morning, and you can judge my skills for yourself.”
The two climbed into the waiting vehicle, and as the rest of the countryside awakened with them, a feeling of complete contentment fell over Darcy. Here he was in a rented vehicle, living in a small, worn cottage, devoid of his fine possessions, and without the convenience of his servants; yet he could not have been happier or felt more blessed.
That morning, after seeing Georgiana and her husband off to Rosings, Elizabeth drove her phaeton to Hunsford. As this was her first time driving alone, she was a bit nervous, but after a short while, found her rhythm and began to enjoy the freedom.
Quelling her excitement long enough to exchange courtesies with the
Collinses, Elizabeth threw her arms around Jane in greeting. “I have missed you.”
Jane laughed in return. “As have I.”
The three ladies shared a morning cup of tea before Mrs. Collins excused
herself to duties of the manor. Wishing to take advantage of the pleasant
weather, the two sisters escaped the house for a walk through Hunsford gardens and the surrounding area.
After giving Elizabeth a general update of the goings-on in Meryton, Jane
spoke to her about what was most on her mind, Mr. Bingley and his return to the area.
“I have forgiven him, Lizzy. Truly I have. I suppose I should be flattered by his attentions to me, but…” She paused for a moment. “I do not think I can so
easily forget the past.” She dropped her eyes to the ground guiltily.
“Perhaps you should learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”
“If only it were so easy,” Jane murmured. “If he had left because he was
uncertain of his affection, I could perhaps understand. I can not, howev
er, so easily forget our interactions in town. He was so cold and indifferent,” her voice lowered considerably to the point of being almost inaudible.
“Jane, do you still have feelings for Mr. Bingley?”
“I… I… Oh! I do not know what to think anymore.” She turned a troubled
look. “Mama, of course, is determined to see us married, and I am unlikely to meet another man of such means.” She paused and then looked to Elizabeth. “I do not wish to become a burden to anyone.”
“Jane. Dearest, Jane. You could never be a burden. If you think your future happiness lies with Mr. Bingley, I would certainly not begrudge you. But I beg of you, do not accept him because you feel any obligation to him or the
family.”
“Last autumn I believed myself quite in love with him. Now, I am less certain it was love. Perhaps I was just flattered that a man of his stature paid me
particular attentions.” She looked to Elizabeth searchingly, as if her sister might hold the key to the events of last autumn. When Elizabeth was silent
though, she said in a flustered tone, “Oh, let us not speak on it any more. How
does Mr. Darcy’s cousin fare?” She stooped abruptly to pick a flower and held it to her nose.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said slowly, noticing the blush that crept into her sister’s cheeks, “is faring well. Fitzwilliam thinks he may be able to sit below stairs for a spell in another couple days.”
Jane nodded, still paying unusual attention to the blossom in her hand. “I am glad to hear it. For you and my brother,” she quickly amended, though the flush of her cheeks spoke of a deeper meaning. “I am sorry about Lady Catherine,
Lizzy.”
Elizabeth smiled, her suspicions somewhat confirmed. “It is of little
consequence. With the colonel on the mend, we are not likely to remain in the area for much longer. Fitzwilliam is anxious to return to Pemberley, and I must confess, I am as well.” She took her sister’s arm. “You will visit though, will you not?”
Jane leaned her head against her sister’s arm. “If you wish it, and father does not mind.”
When they returned the house, they were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Collins
setting out the noon meal.
“I have wonderful news, Cousin Jane.” Mr. Collins said excitedly. “Lady
Catherine has invited us to dine at Rosings in a few days time.” He smiled
smugly in Elizabeth’s direction. “The family is celebrating Colonel
Fitzwilliam’s recovery, and have invited us to take part in it. I have told Lady Catherine of our diligent prayers on her nephew’s behalf.” He then went on to tell Jane about the fine furnishings of Rosings, and how honoured he was by the invitation.
Everyone listened politely, but soon after Collins’ monologue was complete, Elizabeth took her leave, promising to visit again soon.
While Elizabeth was enjoying the company of her sister, Darcy was having a
less pleasant conversation with his cousin, Lord Fitzwilliam.
“He is going to resist, unless the entire family expresses their support of my father’s decision,” Stephen said.
“I can not imagine why,” Darcy replied wryly. “Besides, it would be rather
hypocritical of me.”
“It was different for you, Darcy. You are your own man, with your own fortune.
Richard is not, and my father does not wish to see Rosings back in the hands of the de Bourghs.”
Darcy hemmed at his cousin’s argument. Everything Stephen had said was true.
Still, he had been unwilling to marry Anne; how could he persuade another?
“Richard could live fairly comfortably off his inheritance.”
“But how would he support a family?”
This grabbed Darcy’s attention. “Has he shown any inclination in that area?”
Stephen hesitated, but then shook his head. “Richard’s head is always turned by a pretty face. I imagine he will marry at some point.”
“Surely he can find some heiress then. He is the son of an earl.”
“Darcy, you know that to be unlikely with his injuries, and being a second a son, and all.”
With a smirk, Darcy suggested, “You could renounce your title and give it to Richard.” He laughed when Stephen glared at him.
“I do not believe my wife would appreciate your sense of humour.” Stephen
replied.
Becoming more serious again, Darcy said, “I will speak with Richard, and
make the arguments for marrying Anne. If he chooses not to, however, be
warned, I will support his decision.”
Stephen shook his head. “You have become quite the radical since your
marriage, Darcy. I suppose you are entitled though, newly married as you are.
It is all still roses for you.”
Darcy shrugged, trying to appear nonplussed by the accusation. “There is
nothing radical about wanting a felicitous marriage. It is why you courted Lady Fitzwilliam rather than the Marquis daughter, is it not?” He was tempted to add he loved his wife, but that was a notion Stephen likely would not understand.
Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam got on well enough, but their marriage had never
been about love and admiration; that was evident to anyone who saw the two of them together.
“If you will excuse me, I would like to go speak to your brother.” With that, he exited the room. He walked slowly, giving himself some time to figure out just what he would say to his beleaguered cousin. Stephen’s arguments made sense, but did not Richard deserve some happiness? He, nor anyone, would never be
happy living under Lady Catherine’s thumb.
A twinge of guilt pricked his conscience. Could he have prevented this? He had thought once he was married, Lady Catherine would take Anne to London and
make a match there. He never dreamed she would pawn her daughter off on
Richard.
He stopped by the game room and picked up a board game and the morning
paper as a way of forestalling the inevitable. Before he had formulated his words though, he was standing in front of Richard’s door. Hoping the words
would come to him, he knocked for admittance.
Richard bid entry almost immediately, giving Darcy little time to effect a more cheerful demeanour.
“If you have come to tell me your tale of woe, you can spare your breath,”
Richard growled. “I have better things to do than listen to your how your
perfect life has lost its lustre.”
Darcy’s eye widened at the unexpected behavior from his usually jovial cousin.
“Forgive me. I only thought you might be in need of some distraction.” He
lifted the newspaper and backgammon set that was tucked underneath his arm.
Richard sighed heavily. “Forgive me, Darcy. I am in a foul mood today.”
Darcy shrugged and continued towards the chair next to the bed. “So I have
heard. Molly was in tears trying to explain the full tray to Mrs. Roberts on her way to the kitchen.
“I will apologize to her when I see her next.”
“Do you wish a game, or should I leave you be?” When Richard nodded
towards the board, Darcy went about setting up the table. Like the preparations, the game was played in silence. After several turns, Richard said abruptly,
“Lady Catherine and my father have decided I should marry Anne.”
Darcy took a silent deep breath, and slipped into a façade of indifference. “So I have heard... It would be a good match, unless you have some other way to
conjure a fortune.” He continued studying the board, unable to look at his
cousin. How he wished he had not promised Stephen!
“I have income enough. I do not wish to marry Anne any more than you did.”
Richard sneered.
Darcy shot a glance at the door, ensurin
g it was shut. The last thing either of them needed was for a servant or Lady Catherine to overhear their discussion.
“I understand, Richard, but your father has a valid argument. Marriage to Anne would mean your independence.” His words sounded hollow, even to himself.
He wondered if Richard noticed their emptiness.
“Darcy, no one who marries Anne would be independent; not while Lady
Catherine draws breath.” He shook his head slowly. “I would rather live off my father’s charity than marry Anne.”
Darcy raised his brow, in part to Richard’s adamant tone, and in part to
Richard’s unusual acceptance of charity. “Well, it seems to be the appropriate time to bring this up then. I wanted to extend to you an invitation to Arryndale and Pemberley for as long as you like, whenever you wish.” He felt a twinge of guilt, but rationalized it away; he had presented Richard with the arguments for marriage to Anne, had he not?
“Thank you, but if my father will forward me my inheritance, I shall be
comfortable at Shoreview.”
Darcy nodded and continued with the game. He needed time to think. Richard
was acting strangely; willing to live off Lord Matlock’s charity, but not his.
Why? His cousin had always preferred Pemberley to Langford. “The
wheelchair arrives tomorrow, and the weather should hold. The fresh air will do you some good.” Darcy said, wanting to drop the subject for now.
Fitzwilliam pursed his lips and nodded just a bit.
The game ended, with Darcy easily winning. When he inquired about it,
Richard simply shook his head and declared nothing was wrong. Unconvinced,
but unable to ferret anything more out of his cousin, Darcy called it a day.
That evening, Darcy entered the room he and Elizabeth were sharing. Elizabeth was in her night clothes, and was sitting at her vanity brushing out her hair. She appeared lost in thought, but a small frown marred her mien.
Quietly, he stripped himself of his jacket, waistcoat, and cravat, all the while watching his wife. He walked up behind her and gently took the brush from her hand. “Allow me,” he murmured as he kissed her cheek. Elizabeth smiled at
him, and sat up a little straighter.
“What troubles you, dearest?” Darcy asked, as he ran his hand the length of her soft locks.