The woman talked on in such a manner until they reached her carriage. She turned to Elizabeth and declared, “I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”
Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked quietly into her house, ignoring her family’s demands to know of the visitor. She did not regret a word she said to Darcy’s aunt, only that she expressed herself so freely and rudely.
I very much doubt he ever wanted me in the first place but above it all I have now insulted his aunt. Oh, I am such a headstrong, foolish thing!
*****
Darcy sat in his London study having just received a letter from Bingley detailing, between blotches, his engagement to Miss Jane Bennet. He begged for Darcy to return to Netherfield with Georgiana and spend the holidays with Bingley and the Bennets. Caroline would remain in Scarborough and the Hursts would spend the holidays at the Hurst family estate. Bingley desired the company of his closest friend for the festive season.
Darcy intended to decline the invitation. He could not bear to see the look of contempt or sadness in Elizabeth’s eyes. He was uncertain how to even maintain his friendship with Bingley in light of his marriage to her dearest sister. He allowed himself to become lost in the memories of Elizabeth and the Gardiner children but was jolted from his reverie due to a commotion in the hall.
The door to his study flung open, his butler nervously hovering behind Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
“It is well, Smith.” Darcy tried to reassure his servant that he knew his aunt had made his job impossible.
“Of course it is well.” Lady Catherine’s voice boomed. She settled herself in a chair and the butler quickly exited and closed the door behind him.
“Aunt, how may I be of service?”
“I have come to put an end to the most slanderous gossip. I have just come from Hertfordshire, where Miss Bennet would not satisfy my inquiries. Obstinate, headstrong girl!”
Darcy was greatly confused. “What is this gossip and how may I end it.”
“Announce your engagement to Anne immediately and all shall be rectified.”
“I shall not. There is no engagement. There never shall be an engagement. I will not ever marry Anne. You must accept this.”
“You would cast aside your duty in favour of a match with this upstart without family or fortune, whose very sister is married in a patched up affair to the son of your father’s steward?”
“That is enough, madam! The Bennet family is entirely respectable, the victims of malicious gossip. I owe my family no duty but to marry prudently and Miss Bennet would be a most wholesome match.”
“You are then resolved to have her?”
“Certainly not, she is betrothed to my best friend, Bingley. I am only resolved to act in that manner, which constitutes my happiness without reference to you or anyone else so wholly unrelated to the matter.”
“No, not Bingley’s bride! The impertinent one. There were too many for me to recall their names. But you are no better than she. The unreasonable girl would not oblige me in vowing that any engagement between you two as impossible. I know it must be so, you could never be taken in by cheap arts and allurements.”
Darcy could barely breathe. Elizabeth would not refuse me?
“Darcy, the gossip is wild with a match between you two. Anne even has a letter from Georgiana hinting at the idea. That is what set me off more than mere gossip from my parson’s family. Georgiana needs a proper model for her coming out. You cannot possibly attach yourself to the Bennet family!”
Georgiana sent a letter to Anne? Now, that is inventive! Touché, little sister!
“I am deeply offended for my friends’ sake, as well as my own, madam that you have intruded upon my private affairs and have made horribly unjust accusations at my friends. You shall not be permitted in my homes again until you can make a full apology to the Bennet family. ”
Darcy called for his butler to escort the ranting Lady Catherine from his townhouse and quickly wrote a reply to Bingley. He and Georgiana were off for Hertfordshire at first light the following morning.
*****
The late morning air was unusually warm for December as Darcy espied Elizabeth walking on the path towards Oakham Mount. His feet propelled him, his whole being acting on instinct but he let her reach the top before he quickly outstripped her so he could face her directly. At the sound of his footsteps she looked up at him. Tearstains marked her cheeks.
“Elizabeth,” he breathed her name as though it were a prayer.
Elizabeth could not believe her eyes or ears and she was angry at her traitorous heart and her mind for imagining him calling her name. Still astonishment and relief washed over her at the sight of him. She truly hoped he was real.
“Please, dearest, do not cry.” Then he took out his handkerchief and tenderly wiped all remnants of her tears away. He was gratified to see affection in her eyes and her warm, broad smile greeted him.
Laughingly Elizabeth said, “I am surprised to see you here, Mr. Darcy. I had heard you did not mean to return to Hertfordshire for quite some time.” Then she gave him an impish grin and her eyes twinkled with mischief, his heart soared. ”Whatever has happened to your obstinacy, sir?”
“As it turns out I was given new information to change my convictions.” He smiled slightly at the ease of their banter, “I had an unexpected visit from my aunt.”
“Oh, yes, I did as well.”
“Her words taught me to hope as I had scarcely allowed myself to hope before. I can never forgive myself for allowing such a villain to harm your family. Elizabeth if you were not merely espousing false opinions for a debate with my aunt, then you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.
“If you will have me, if you will give me your hand, I promise to make you happy and aspire everyday to earn your love and respect. Only you can make me the happiest of men. Marry me?”
Although Elizabeth still wondered how he could possibly offer for her due to Lydia’s marriage to Wickham, she did not doubt his constancy. She was his choice, somehow, and she knew he would never waiver from it. There was now no need to address it at the moment.
“Do not dare blame yourself for his actions! You are the most honourable man. Yes, William. I will marry you. You already have my respect and love and only you can make me the happiest of women.” Elizabeth smiled as Darcy grinned. She tenderly reached forward to touch his dimples, sighing at the contact.
“Elizabeth, I have a confession to make. I heard you speaking with Georgiana about love months ago.”
“Oh, William! We will have to add to your list of faults! You should never eavesdrop!”
Darcy smiled at her tease but persisted with his agenda. “I can think of only one thing to add to your list of understanding infatuation from love; ardent love, that is.”
“And what is that, sir?”
“Passion.” Elizabeth’s breath caught for the fraction of a second she had before Darcy showed her what it meant to be violently in love.
Nine months later
September 21, 1812
“I believe this is my set, Mrs. Darcy.”
Mr. Darcy took his beloved’s hand and proudly led her to the dance floor. It was not the fashion for married couples to dance, but by now everyone knew to expect Mr. Darcy to dance with his wife, and always the last set.
They had been married over six months but still acted as besotted newlyweds, becoming quite the sensation of the Season. The residents of Meryton found it endearing Mr. and Mrs. Darcy insisted on being present for the Michaelmas Assembly, marking nearly one year since they met.
“You are ever so obstinate in retaining the last set on my card, sir.” Elizabeth teased.
“I am quite convinced it is my husbandly right.” Darcy grinned.
“We shall leave for Derbyshire on the morrow. Are you certain you shall not mind my cousins visiting us for several weeks?”
“How can you ask? I am only sorry Lydia is still in mourning and cannot visit as well. You know how much Georgiana misses her company. I am very surprised at how their temperaments have complimented each other but soon Lydia shall be able to finally move forward with her life.”
A brief shadow crossed his face at the remembrance of the pain Wickham inflicted on his family, which now included Elizabeth’s, before he met his fate on a Spanish battlefield in May. Lydia was to stay with her aunt and uncle Phillips while her family travelled.
Rallying his spirits he began again. “And I shall hope your father will surprise us with a visit for I greatly enjoy our debates. But you know I find the Gardiner children delightful, Michael particularly.”
Elizabeth lowered her voice and said, “I am glad they shall be visiting. The nursery has needed a good cleaning and airing out. And it shall allow us plenty of time to decorate after they leave.”
“Elizabeth! Are you certain now?”
“Yes, love, I felt the quickening this morning.”
Darcy smiled broadly and then turned serious, “Come, we are leaving now. You need to rest.”
“William, I am perfectly capable of finishing the final set of the evening!”
“No, I insist. We will be travelling for several days and then you shall be hosting our families, you cannot overtax yourself.”
“You dare to disagree with your husband? You always were impertinent.” Darcy teased with affection.
“And you find it delightful.” Elizabeth smiled back.
“As soon as you are rested from our journey I will take you on a long walk near the lake.” Darcy smiled with a wistful expression on his face.
“You know I enjoy that walk very much, but why does such a thought enter your head at this moment?”
“Because I need to see you covered in mud as soon as possible. I fell in love with you that day in the park while you were twirling Michael in the air and the thought of you doing so with our children has given me the greatest pleasure for many months now.”
Elizabeth smiled at the sentimentality of the great man who had the courage to refute society’s prejudices and loved her so selflessly. “And if I refuse? After all, it would not be very dignified for the mistress of Pemberley to have her petticoats six inches deep in mud.”
“Have you forgotten my greatest virtue, madam? I am doubly obstinate when perfectly convicted on my decision. And the vision of you dancing in delight with our children heedless of mud and dirt is an image I am certain is most delightful. I am resolved.”
They both laughed for a moment before Darcy asked, “What was it Michael said to you before we left this evening?”
“I was speaking with Mrs. Gardiner and gave credit to our fortuitous meeting in the park that day to the weather and remembered you had called it St Michael’s Little Summer. We then laughed and recalled Michael’s words on the topic, and your gentle manner with him. Then our conversation turned towards their visit to Pemberley. We had not noticed that Michael was nearby. He announced his presence when he declared as he was not an angel after all, he did not need to share his name with the weather anymore.”
Darcy lightly chuckled, “Are we to suppose there shall be no warm spells this autumn then?”
“Perhaps not!” Darcy and Elizabeth smiled at each other, both ever sensible to the young boy that was the means of uniting them.
The End
Letters from the Heart
A Pride and Prejudice Novella Variation
Rose Fairbanks
Letters from the Heart
Rose Fairbanks
Published by Rose Fairbanks
©2014 Rose Fairbanks
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, without permission in writing from its publisher and author.
Early drafts were written in 2013 and 2014 and posted serially beginning November 2013 and ending June 2014.
Several passages in this novel are paraphrased from the works of Jane Austen.
Chapter One
December 10, 1811
Darcy House, London
8:30 am
Fitzwilliam Darcy tore through the contents of his desk drawer again. I must find it! He lifted every single piece of correspondence from his letter tray. His usual fastidious standards did not help today, as there seemed no hope of finding the object of his search.
The letter was not on or in his desk, or among his personal files. He considered he may have burned it after all, but soon rejected the notion. His earlier drafts were crumpled and in the waste bin. Surely if he would have burned the final product, he would have burnt all the evidence. He could only face the truth and the likely consequences of his actions. The letter he had written to Miss Elizabeth Bennet the night before had vanished!
He called for his butler, who confirmed several letters were sent out last night in the last post. In an agitated manner he interrogated the housemaid who had tidied the room before he had arisen for the day. He decreed to his housekeeper that she alone was to clean the room henceforth, and only at his request. Additionally, all outgoing mail would be placed by him alone into the hands of the butler since obviously other members of his staff were too incompetent to carry out the task. If they had not served his family faithfully since before he was breeched, he would have reprimanded their mild look of censure; as it was, he knew he would be apologizing for his ungentlemanly display sooner rather than later.
Darcy dismissed them and slumped into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. How could this have happened? No, now was not the time to ask questions. He needed to make plans.
Yes, he needed a new plan. Darcy knew how to make arrangements and carry them through with authority. Groomed as a child to be the landlord and master of a vast estate, complete with wealth, smaller holdings, and many investments, forethought was fundamental to good order. However, he loathed admitting the truth to himself; his contrivances caused this very problem. As a Naval acquaintance had once told him, one could be too clever for one’s own good.
Yes, Wentworth, I have been truly hoisted by my own petard: my very need to control and plan my future has, inexorably, resulted in the elimination of any freedom of choice: there was now only one honourable way forward.
There could be no more excuses or dissemblance, which he found strangely comforting; instead, he must plan to present matters in the most positive light. He thought back to how it had all came-to-pass the night before.
*****
Monday, December 9, 1811
Darcy House, London
5 pm
“Are you certain you do not wish to attend the theatre this evening?” Charles Bingley queried his friend.
“No.” Fitzwilliam Darcy said emphatically.
The two sat in the billiards room after the early and informal dinner. Darcy’s younger sister, Georgiana, had excused herself early to write letters in her chambers, leaving the two gentlemen alone.
“I say!” Bingley proclaimed with a hint of his usual levity. “I truly had it right that evening at Netherfield when I claimed I never knew a more awful fellow than you on a Sunday night—and now a Monday—in his own home with nothing to do!”
Darcy remembered this remark and the surrounding conversation in great detail, but feigned ignorance. “I do not recall you saying such.” He affected a scowl in hopes of the subject being
dropped, but he could not intimidate his friend.
“Truly? It was after you and Miss Elizabeth were in a dispute over whether my impulsiveness was a fault or a virtue, and before you asked her to dance a reel and she refused you.”
Darcy did not need the reminder; he had already spent hours with his memories of the twinkle in Elizabeth Bennet’s eyes during their debate—it was not a dispute! He recalled precisely the expression on her face, the scent she wore and—to his extreme mortification—the exact shade of blue of her gown with the delicate yellow ribbon in her hair. It was like the sun cresting over the rocky peaks of Derbyshire in a sky just after a rainstorm. Darcy cringed again as he realized how ridiculous and poetic his thoughts regarding the lady had become. I am practically a mooncalf!
Despite himself, Darcy sighed at his memories. It was the second time Elizabeth had refused to dance with him, and he should have been offended, but she was simply too endearing. She had a unique mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner. Darcy had not met with her more than six times before being entirely bewitched. The time she spent at Netherfield, seeing her each day, had been a sweet torture.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sigh from his companion, no doubt remembering his own Bennet lady.
“Netherfield really was a very picturesque estate. And so close to London, Caroline could have no complaints.”
Darcy closed his eyes in annoyance but knew the following conversation necessary, yet again. “Considering how frequently she claims to enjoy Pemberley and Derbyshire, it should be no surprise she cannot complain about the distance from Hertfordshire to London. I believe her complaints were of a different matter.”
“Everyone in the area was very welcoming and kind. Caroline wishes to remain in London for Christmas but I had thought it would be quite nice to celebrate at my own estate, perhaps invite my closest family and friends.” Bingley let out another sigh.
One Autumn with Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Anthology Page 7