An Engaging Friendship

by AmyJ

  "She is well." Darcy reassured. "She is engaged to be married. To my cousin, Richard. I am very sorry, Bingley. I did not know her affections had changed."

  The words rushed out of him, and unsure of what else to say, he stood mutely, waiting for Bingley's reaction.

  For several moments, Bingley did nothing. Then, looking like he had been

  punched in the gut, he dropped back into his chair. "I… I… Thank you for telling me," he murmured. He stared blankly at the line of pistols on the table in front him.

  Seeing the direction of his friend's gaze, a grim chill gripped Darcy. He quickly walked over to his friend and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "I am truly sorry, Charles. If I had known…"

  "No… no… it is not your fault." Bingley muttered, shrugging off Darcy's hand.

  "Please… I would like to be alone."

  Not wishing to leave things as they were, Darcy did not move.

  Bingley turned and looked up at him. In a stronger voice, he said, "I will be fine. I… it is just unexpected." After a few more minutes, he added, "I should have Snyder pack my trunks."

  Darcy struggled for words. He never knew what to say in awkward situations

  such as this. For all his education, he had never learned what to say after crushing his friend's hopes. He placed his hand on Bingley's shoulder once

  again, and with a sympathetic squeeze, said, "Of course. If there is anything…"

  Not surprisingly, Bingley dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

  With no other option, Darcy left the room. He paused just outside the doors, wishing he had something to say that might lessen the blow. Without any other

  recourse though, Darcy left Netherfield, but resolved to call on Bingley again soon.

  That evening, while reclined comfortably in bed, Elizabeth and Darcy quietly reflected on the day's events. They had once again chosen to share a room, and aside from a few raised eyebrows or smug smiles, the arrangement provided a more amenable room to guest ratio.

  Darcy had just finished relaying the contents of his conversation with Bingley to Elizabeth, and though neither voiced it, both were concerned for the man.

  He absently stroked his wife's arm, while she rested with her head nestled

  against his shoulder. When neither had spoken for some time, Elizabeth asked,

  "What are you thinking, dear husband?"

  Darcy squeezed her tight for a moment. "I was only thinking how much things have changed."

  Elizabeth shifted and looked up at him expectantly. He gave her quick peck on the forehead and explained, "The last time I was in this room, was the night before our wedding. I hardly slept. I wanted nothing more than for the

  ceremony to be completed and us to be on our way to Pemberley."

  Elizabeth stretched just enough to place a kiss on his cheek. "God has been good to us."

  "A year ago, I was content with my small fiefdom. I believed Georgiana and myself safe, untouchable, above scandal and ridicule, almost above my fellow man. Then Ramsgate happened." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "It was humbling to learn all my security and self righteousness was but an illusion; that my defences were not as impenetrable as I had thought. Georgiana was

  nearly lost to me, and scandal was on my doorstep. For the first time, I did not know what I was supposed to do, and nothing I did made things right."

  Elizabeth listened patiently to her husband. It was not often he voiced what was in his heart like this, and she would do nothing to discourage him. She nestled closer to him, a silent action of support.

  "I owe Bingley a great deal. I wish I could repay the service somehow." He paused, and let a loose lock of her hair fall through his fingers. "It was Bingley's actions that brought you back into my life, and to Georgiana's." He shifted so he was now lying with a clear vision of her. "You changed

  everything for me, my Beth. I needed a friend, someone who would not judge

  me, or speak to me of duty and the family name. I needed you."

  Elizabeth eyes shone with love and understanding. "I love you, Fitzwilliam."

  She cupped his cheek with her hand, and was not at all surprised when he

  turned his head to kiss her palm.

  "I do not know what I would have done if I had lost you." He brushed the hair off her forehead. "I … Bingley…" he sighed, unable to put into words what he wanted to convey.

  Elizabeth placed her hand against his chest. "Fitzwilliam, Bingley could not have known what waited for you in Hertfordshire. Just be his friend. That is all any of us can be to one another. Even we were friends first."

  Darcy kissed his wife on the forehead. Then with a rakish smirk, he pulled her close to him. "Come here, friend."

  The next few days were filled with visits to friends and neighbours of the

  neighbourhood, and of course, to Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet took great delight in entertaining and showing off her esteemed relations. Elizabeth and Darcy bore the attention with as much equanimity as possible, and did their best to see their guests, Lord and Lady Matlock and Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam, were not overly put upon by their curious neighbours.

  When they were not obliged to entertain friends, family or neighbours, the two spent time visiting Elizabeth's favourite places. There were a few trips to Oakham Mount, walks through the fields of Longbourn, and quiet rides on

  horseback through the paths of Hertfordshire.

  On one particular outing, Elizabeth led Darcy down a cart road a few miles

  away. "This is the place," she said, sliding down from her horse.

  Darcy looked around, not finding anything particular about the area. The road looked vaguely familiar, but he could not place it.

  "This is where your father's carriage wheel broke." Elizabeth explained, relaying Mr. Bennet's perspective of the event.

  Tying her horse to nearby tree, she took a seat on a fallen tree. Darcy followed suit. "Your father was on his way Pemberley when a spoke in his carriage wheel broke. My father happened to be coming home from the Wiliford's place, just over yonder." She pointed towards an unknown destination northwest of their current location. "It was too late for your father to return to London, so my father invited your father to spend the night at Longbourn. They placed

  your father's trunks on the farm cart, and then followed the shortcut we took to Meryton." She smiled at Darcy's surprised look. "Your father never told you how our fathers came to know one another?"

  Darcy shook his head. "I always assumed they had met at the University or in town."

  Elizabeth grinned. "My father was never fond of town, not even when he was in his prime."

  Darcy chuckled.

  "As it turns out, a storm blew in that night and kept your father at Longbourn for nigh a se'enight. Our fathers remained friends through correspondence and occasional visits, and when I was born, your parents agreed to be my god

  parents."

  "It all came down to a broken carriage." Darcy said in wonder.

  "Of course when I was young, the story was a bit different." Elizabeth replied, not wanting the mood to become too serious. She let out an amused trill. "Back then, my father was a peasant who had saved your father, a prince, from an evil dragon that only ate royalty and rich people. Afraid that the dragon might

  return, the prince gave his favourite daughter, me, to the peasant for

  safekeeping on the condition that the peasant would bring the girl to the palace, Pemberley, each year to visit."

  When Elizabeth finished her story, she laughed in embarrassment. "So there you have it."

  Darcy laughed with her and kissed her hand. "That story is not so far off.

  Pemberley is not exactly a palace, and I am not exactly a prince, but your

  father did give up his favourite daughter for my safe keeping."

  Mischievously, Elizabeth replied, "I think I preferred the story when I was a princess!"

  Darcy laughed heartily. "Very well, my princess. I think we
should return to our guests." He stood and then bowed dramatically as he offered Elizabeth his hand in assistance. Elizabeth laughed, but took it. A few moments later, they were on their way to Purvis Lodge.

  Roughly a week after the Darcys arrival in Hertfordshire, Meryton welcomed

  another guest, Lord Blakeslee. Darcy and Elizabeth were both present to

  welcome him.

  "Wesley," Darcy greeted, with a firm handshake and clap on the shoulder. "You are looking well."

  Lord Blakeslee returned the affectionate actions while replying, "Good to see you as well, old man. I see you are still wearing that insufferable grin." Darcy chuckled, while Blakeslee turned his attention to Elizabeth.

  "Mrs. Darcy, a pleasure as always," he said with a flourished bow.

  "Welcome to Purvis Lodge, Lord Blakeslee." Elizabeth returned with an elaborate curtsey. "I hope your travel was not difficult."

  "Aside from being called from the comfort of Trentholm, it was no burden.

  Naturally, when I heard one of London's self proclaimed bachelors was to be married, I set out to confirm it myself." He shared a chuckle with Darcy.

  "Lord Blakeslee, you must be hungry." Elizabeth interjected, wanting to move the reunion indoors. "Please, allow me to show you to your room so you can refresh yourself, and then I shall have some tea and cakes set out."

  An hour later, Elizabeth joined the others in the drawing room. She was

  surprised to find Georgiana and Lady Fitzwilliam present as well. When the tea service arrived, she poured the tea, and with Georgiana's assistance, saw

  everyone was served. After pouring her own cup, she took a seat in the corner, next to Georgiana, content to simply watch the interaction of the others.

  She smiled at Lord Blakeslee, Lord Fitzwilliam, her soon to be brother and her husband's banter. Every once in a while, Darcy would glance in her direction, and they would exchange a look.

  Overcome with the emotion of seeing her new family merrily gathered

  together, she reached over and squeezed Georgiana's hand. She had a husband who worshipped her, and a new sister whom she adored.

  She could not help but think of her friend Charlotte Collins, who was married to a man she merely tolerated for her own security. It was such a sharp contrast to the warmth and affection she felt in this room. A shiver ran through her, as she considered just how easily that could have been her, had her father

  acquiesced to her mother's wishes.

  While her engagement, like Charlotte's, had been formed out of convenience, she and Darcy had married out of love for one another. A wave of sadness

  washed over her, as she realized Charlotte would likely never know the

  pleasure of loving her husband, or having him love her in return.

  She truly was blessed.

  Two days before the wedding, Elizabeth timidly approached the study in Purvis Lodge. Her husband had sequestered himself in that room to address a few

  issues his steward had sent him, and generally did not respond well to

  interruptions when tending to matter estate matters. However, delaying this particular conversation would not be prudent. Things would be rushed as it

  was. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, and cringed at the

  distracted but annoyed call to enter.

  "Fitzwilliam," she said as she entered. "I have been thinking."

  Upon seeing Elizabeth, Darcy sat back in his seat and smiled.

  "The house in Bath has been left unoccupied by the family for several years now, and I would like to see it put to some use."

  Darcy nodded. "You wish to visit Bath? I suppose that could be arranged."

  "Not exactly." She sat in the chair across the desk and smoothed her skirts. "I was thinking that with the house in town, and Pemberley, and your other

  holdings, we do not need that house."

  Darcy's brow wrinkled. "You wish to sell it?" Suddenly, his mien turned stormy. "You are not being blackmailed are you? I demand you tell me who it is! I shall run the rogue through!"

  Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from laughing. "Have no fear, dearest. It is nothing as grave as that. I am perfectly well." She gently cleared her throat. "I wish to give the house to Jane and Richard, as a wedding gift."

  Seeing that his wife was truly not in any danger, he relaxed again. "That is very generous of you, dearest, but I doubt Richard would accept such a gift. Even if he did, I will not have you giving away your future security."

  Seeing his wife's downtrodden look, he walked around the desk and took the

  seat next her. "But, my ever perceptive wife, I believe you are correct." He took her hands in his. "The house currently has no residents, and the treatments available in Bath could be very beneficial to Richard's recovery." After taking a few moments to consider the options, he proposed the following: "Why do we not offer to allow Jane and Richard to live in the house, rent free. It would allow them to put some money towards improvements on Shoreview, and

  increase their income."

  He smiled, seeing his wife brighten. "I have just been looking at the accounts, and I believe there are adequate funds to allow your sister to do some

  redecorating as well." He kissed the back of her hand. "As you said, the house will surely be in need some new wall fabrics or something of the sort. Jane will torment Richard quite delightfully with nothing but talk of lace and silk."

  Elizabeth slapped at her husband playfully. "Fitzwilliam Darcy!" she admonished.

  "Is this sufficient?" He asked.

  Elizabeth thought for a moment and then smiled. While it was not exactly what she had in mind, it was an excellent compromise that served everyone's needs.

  "You are the best of men, Fitzwilliam Darcy."

  With that pronouncement, Darcy stood. After placing a peck on Elizabeth's

  head, he returned to his original seat behind the desk. "I shall discuss this with Richard later. I am certain he will be most grateful."

  Pleased with the results of the conversation, Elizabeth took her leave.

  Finally the day of Jane's wedding arrived. Not unexpectedly, Mrs. Bennet was a bundle of nerves, and spent much of the time before the ceremony

  complaining about how much more grand things would have been had she been

  given sufficient time to prepare.

  Darcy sat in the front pew next to his wife, and watched his cousin sitting across the aisle nervously tug at his tail coat, gloves, and waistcoat. He

  exchanged an amused smirk with Lord Blakeslee; one that said, "It will be your turn soon."

  He would have liked to say that on his wedding day, he had not been as

  nervous, but he remembered that day vividly. It had been all he could do not to run to Longbourn and carry Elizabeth to the church. He consoled himself by

  reasoning that if he had the benefit Richard did - had he known nothing short of a great calamity would have kept Elizabeth from the church that morning -

  he would not have been nearly so flummoxed.

  The sound of the church doors opening, and the entrance of the bride, broke his reverie. He watched as Richard did his best not to limp as he walked towards the altar to meet Jane. Murmurs of how beautiful Jane looked wafted to his

  ears, and he agreed, Jane did look quite resplendent. Still, he could not but think Elizabeth had been even more so, on their wedding day.

  As the marriage vows were being recited, Darcy felt all the emotions of his own wedding day come to the forefront. Surreptitiously, he took Elizabeth's hand and squeezed it. From the corner of his eye, he saw her smile, and then dab her eyes with her handkerchief. Her thoughts were not far from his.

  He watched as his cousin placed a ring on Jane's finger, a look of complete adoration graced both their faces. His cousin had chosen wisely. Jane was no heiress, but as Darcy had learned, some things are worth more than their

  weight in rubies.

  As soon as the vicar pronou
nced Jane and Richard man and wife, a warm

  applause rose, and congratulations from everyone was given. The wedding

  breakfast passed with little fanfare, and it was not long until the guests were tossing slippers at the back of the bridal carriage.

  The following morning, just as Darcy, Stephen, and Lord Blakeslee were

  returning from a morning ride, an express rider arrived at Purvis Lodge.

  Concerned something had happened to his cousin and new wife, Darcy tore

  open the express. What he read took him by complete surprise. Without even

  taking his leave, or even ensuring the groom had taken his horse, he headed inside.

  Bypassing all his usual greetings, he addressed the nearest servant, "See that mine and Mrs. Darcy's trunks are packed immediately, and tell Mrs. Darcy I

  wish to speak to her. I will be in the study."

  He did not have to wait long before Elizabeth entered, her voice wrinkled in concern. "Fitzwilliam, is something wrong? The housekeeper thought it was urgent."

  Not quite master of his emotions, he remained with his back to his wife, and continued staring out the window. "Bingley is dead," he uttered.

  Elizabeth's hand flew to her mouth and she dropped into the nearest chair.

  "How?"

  Darcy took a deep breath in an effort to remain composed. "There was a fire at Bingley's townhouse."

  Silence reigned, as the news hung thickly in the air.

  Finally, Elizabeth stood and went to her husband's side. She laid a gentle hand on his arm, and was not at all surprised when Darcy turned and pulled her into a tight embrace. After a few minutes, with a shuddering breath, he stepped

  back. "Mr. Hurst has requested I come to London at my earliest convenience. I have already ordered our trunks packed."

  Realizing Darcy expected her to leave Hertfordshire immediately along with

  him, she asked, "What of Georgiana? What of our guests? We can not leave them."

  "They had intended to leave on the morrow, and can bring Georgiana with them. They will understand the need for our early departure." Though it was a statement, the questioning look in Darcy's eye spoke of his inner conflict on the subject.

  "Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth argued gently, "if you were to leave now on horseback, you could be in town before dusk. It would be well past dark if we went by carriage."