To Love Mr Darcy

by Martine Jane Roberts

  Elizabeth closed her eyes just long enough to draw in a deep, calming breath before turning to her mother and saying,

  “You forget yourself, Mamma, we have another guest.” Elizabeth tossed a glance in the direction of Mr Darcy.

  Darcy, who had watched the scene unfold with quiet amusement, decided it was time for him to rescue Elizabeth. Mrs Bennet could bemoan the fate of Longbourn to her others children.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I believe you promised me a tour of the garden. I do not think it too cold at present. Would now be convenient?”

  Elizabeth gratefully accepted his gallant offer.

  “Now would be quite convenient, sir,” Elizabeth replied with thanks.

  “Were you aware that Charles and Mr Hurst have escorted the ladies back to town?” Darcy asked as they walked out into the garden.

  “No, I was not aware of that. I hope there is nothing amiss?”

  “No, not that I am aware of. Miss Bingley made the decision shortly after I informed her of our engagement.”

  For a few minutes, they strolled along in silence.

  “I expect Miss Bingley was upset,” Elizabeth offered. There was no need to expand on this comment, for it was common knowledge that Caroline Bingley had set her cap at marrying Mr Darcy herself.

  Darcy merely nodded in agreement.

  They turned the corner to continue along the next path, but instead, bumped into Kitty and Lydia. The girls paused briefly, then burst out laughing before rushing past them.

  Embarrassed again, Elizabeth felt the colour rise in her cheeks.

  Had he truly considered all aspects of marrying her?

  “Mr Darcy, you do realise that in marrying me, you gain all my relations. My sisters, my aunt and uncle who live in Cheapside, my uncle who is an attorney in Meryton, Mr Collins…?” Her voice trailed off.

  Darcy smiled. He had expected her to use all means at her disposal to sway him from the path of matrimony. Nevertheless, Darcy had already considered all these elements before speaking to her father. He had concluded that Elizabeth’s less desirable relations were a small price to pay to call her his wife.

  “My dear Elizabeth, from dawn until dusk you will find me the perfect host to any who chooses to come and visit us at Pemberley. Whether they are from Longbourn or Cheapside. However, once the door to our bedchamber is closed, and it is just you and I, for those few hours alone together, I will gladly endure all your relations, Elizabeth.”

  At the mention of them sharing a room, Elizabeth felt her blushed return. It appeared he had thought of, and worked through, every scenario she could throw at him. Apparently, there was nothing she said could that would sway him from making her his wife.

  With her cheeks afire, Elizabeth tried to hurry on, but Darcy would have none of it. He was enjoying their easy banter.

  Taking her hand, Darcy placed it on his arm and slowed their pace to an amble.

  “So, Miss Lucas has stolen your other beau?” he teased.

  “Apparently so,” Elizabeth replied curtly, not wishing to be reminded of her cousins’ amorous feelings towards her.

  “Where you aware Lady Catherine de Bourgh is my aunt?”

  “Yes.”

  Darcy was undeterred by her curt replies.

  “I understand you enjoy walking in the mornings?”

  “Yes.”

  “Every morning, come rain or shine?”

  “Most mornings,” she said, irritated by his continued barrage of questions.

  “And do you ride, Elizabeth?”

  “No, I do not,” she answered sharply. “I walk.”

  She tried to pull her hand free from his arm, but Darcy had placed his hand over hers, enjoying the intimacy.

  Her tugging on his sleeve was the final straw.

  Darcy drew them to a halt and turned Elizabeth by the shoulders until she was facing him.

  “Elizabeth, if we are to build any kind of relationship, you must make more of an effort. Alone, I can only do so much.”

  “Mr Darcy,” she said, “may I speak freely?”

  Darcy nodded his consent.

  “I would have it no other way, Elizabeth.”

  “You have the whole of London society to select your bride from, and yet you come to Meryton, a village of no consequence and choose me! Why?”

  “Well, I must say when you do choose to speak, you come straight to the point.”

  Brushing a hand through his dark wavy hair, Darcy smiled and took a moment to contemplate his response. Was it too soon to confess that his admiration had grown into love?

  Yes, he feared it was.

  “Well, I did not come to Meryton looking for a wife, Elizabeth. But once here, I soon discovered there were many things that I did like. Here, in your small town of no consequence, I found something no longer offered in the city. People here are refreshingly honest, hospitable and accommodating. Whereas in London, society has become tired and artificial. The men all follow Beau Brummel and act like dandies, while the women are only interested in catching a rich husband,” Darcy said as a matter of fact. “If these were the qualities I looked for in a wife, to give me sons and spend my money, then you are right, I could have picked any one of the season's debutantes to be my bride. But I want more.”

  Darcy strode off, leaving Elizabeth standing alone and full of questions.

  This new insight into Darcy’s character had caught her attention. What more did he expect in a wife?

  “In what way, more?” Elizabeth asked as she hurried after him.

  Darcy was pleased. His words had piqued her interest. His assumption that she was not only a beautiful and intelligent woman but also an inquisitive woman was correct. He understood he must woo her not only with compliments and flattery, but by engaging her on an intellectual level too.

  “I am afraid we will have to continue our conversation another time,” he said as he looked over her shoulder, “I believe Mrs Bennet is trying to catch your attention.”

  Elizabeth turned to look behind her. Her mother was frantically beckoning her to come hither.

  Darcy, pleased with the progress they had made, made his bow and left for Netherfield.

  Not for the first time, Elizabeth answered her mother’s call with a heavy heart.

  Chapter Four

  Elizabeth had spent a restless night. Darcy’s last words had sent her mind into a spin. She had tried to imagine what more he could want in a wife other than someone to provide him with an heir and to run his home. That was all most men would expect. But eventually she had fallen asleep, and her dreams, surprisingly, were full of images of Mr Darcy.

  The next morning, after breakfast, Elizabeth pulled on her cloak and went out into the garden to wait for Mr Darcy. Unseasonably mild for the first day of December, Elizabeth admired the last few roses that still clung to the bushes. Indulging in a childhood pastime, she dragged her feet through the carpet of leaves, enjoying the rustling sound as she stirred them with her boots.

  The walled garden was her favourite place to walk in the winter months. Unlike the rest of the estate which was pristine, this area was often neglected once the autumn months arrived. Perhaps that was why she liked it so much.

  The clatter of hooves on the gravel drive drew her attention, and Elizabeth assumed it was Mr Darcy arriving. After several minutes had elapsed, and with still no sign of her betrothed, Elizabeth thought she must have been mistaken.

  However, Elizabeth’s solitude was soon broken when Kitty came running down the path, frantically calling her name.

  “You are to come at once, Lizzy,” she said breathlessly. “There is such a to-do in the house. Lady Catherine is demanding to see you.”

  “Me?” Elizabeth questioned. “Why would Mr Darcy’s aunt come to see me?”

  Together they hurried back to the house, but before she had even removed her cloak, Elizabeth heard raised voices.

  “No, I do not want any tea, and I do not want to sit down. I want to speak to the hussy who has e
ntrapped my nephew. Where is she? I will not leave until the matter is resolved to my complete satisfaction,” boomed Lady Catherine.

  Elizabeth opened the door nervously. Standing with her back to her, was a middle-aged woman dressed from head to toe in black. All except for two burnt orange feathers attached to her hat which sat at a precarious angle on her head.

  Realising someone had entered behind her, Lady Catherine spun around to confront them.

  Finally, she came face to face with the woman who had dashed Anne’s chance of marrying her cousin Darcy. She eyed Elizabeth with contempt. Of average height and build, she was not unattractive.

  Mr Bennet stepped forward to execute the introductions.

  “Lady Catherine, may I present my daughter Eliz …”

  “I know who she is, sir, and she can be in no doubt as to whom I am. Miss Bennet, a report of an alarming nature has been relayed to me by, Mr Collins. I have come to hear you declare it a falsehood to my face.”

  Elizabeth mentally cursed her interfering cousin, who had obviously run straight to Lady Catherine with the news of her engagement.

  “I am at a loss as to what you are referring to, Lady Catherine. Perhaps you could elaborate?”

  Elizabeth’s words only fuelled Lady Catherine’s anger, and her voice rose to an even greater level.

  “You know perfectly well to what I am referring, young lady. Do not toy with me. I am here to insist you refute the scandalous lie that you are engaged to my nephew, Darcy!”

  “I am afraid she cannot do that, Aunt Catherine,” said a familiar voice.

  All eyes turned toward the garden doors as Mr Darcy stepped through them and into the room.

  During the stunned silence that followed, Mr Bennet took the opportunity to steer his family out of the room, all except for Elizabeth of course. He would have liked to stay and watch the impending showdown between Darcy and his aunt, but, on the other hand, he did not relish the prospect of having to join in the debate. Therefore, he also left.

  “Explain yourself, Darcy,” said her ladyship sternly.

  “It’s quite simple, Aunt. I asked Miss Bennet to marry me, and she has accepted.”

  Darcy made his way to Elizabeth’s side.

  “But you are engaged to Anne,” she expelled with indignation. “I admit the arrangement is of a peculiar nature, but it was the dearest wish of your mother as well as mine.”

  “That is not true, as well you know Lady Catherine. My supposed engagement to Anne has grown out of your wish to see our two estates united, nothing more.”

  “So, after all, we have been to you, you now abandon Anne with no prospect of marriage. You selfish, unfeeling boy! I am ashamed of you.”

  Seeing her reproachful tactics had no effect, she softened her tone.

  “But come, kiss me and tell me you have changed your mind, and we will say no more of it.”

  “But I have not had a change of heart, Lady Catherine,” he replied.

  Darcy never acted on impulse, and Lady Catherine knew this. Once he had made a decision, he could never be swayed from his course.

  “Very well, if you go ahead with this ridiculous marriage, I will sever all contact with you,” she stated, then turned her back on the couple.

  “I’m sorry you feel like that, Lady Catherine. I have enjoyed many stays at Rosings Park. But, regardless of your disapproval, I intend to marry Miss Bennet in three weeks time, and nothing you say will dissuade me or prevent it,” Darcy informed her sternly.

  Lady Catherine looked thoughtful for a moment and then drew herself up to her full height.

  “And is that your final word on the matter?”

  “It is,” replied Darcy.

  “Very well, then I know what must be done.” With that, she swept past them with a haughty sniff of contempt and out of the house.

  Elizabeth and Darcy both let out a sigh of relief.

  But soon a smile played on her lips.

  She turned to him and said,

  “It appears I am not the only one with relations who are lacking in the social graces.”

  He gave her a sideways glance and returned her smiled.

  “Apparently not!”

  Elizabeth laughed at his open admission. It pleased her to see that he also had a sense of humour, for she dearly loved to laugh.

  Darcy admired the effect laughing had on her fine eyes, and couldn’t help but laugh, too.

  Elizabeth was now seeing Mr Darcy in a new light. It was the first time they had shared a joke, and the first time she had seen him laugh. His visage of a proud and unbending man had been transformed into a warm and happy one, and she liked it.

  Most of the next day, Elizabeth spent with Mr Darcy, strolling in the garden or sitting talking in the parlour at Longbourn. They debated on a variety of subjects, and both were pleased that the other had a keen and articulate mind. Elizabeth was still hopeful that he would not force her into marriage, but as a person, he had grown in her estimation.

  Then, just when everything seemed to be going so well, events took an unforeseen turn the next day.

  Two days after Lady Catherine’s visit, Mr Darcy and Elizabeth were enjoying a quiet game of backgammon in the sitting room, when Lydia suddenly burst in.

  “A gentleman is riding up the drive. I think it is that friend of yours, Mr Darcy.”

  Immediately behind Lydia was Mrs Bennet. Once she had confirmed it was Mr Bingley who was arriving, she insisted that Elizabeth and Mr Darcy join her in the parlour.

  Exchanging a puzzled look, they dutifully follow her. There was barely enough time for everyone to find a seat before Mrs Hill announced the arrival of a breathless, Mr Bingley.

  Casting a glance in Jane’s direction, Elizabeth noticed that her cheeks were newly flushed, but it soon became apparent that it was not Jane he had come to see. It was Mr Darcy.

  “Mrs Bennet, ladies.” He gave a brief bow. “Might I be permitted to speak to Mr Darcy for a moment? I will happily join you for tea afterwards?” he asked with a hint of desperation.

  After a little huffing and puffing from Mrs Bennet, the ladies left the two gentlemen alone together.

  “Darcy, I came as soon as I saw it. It’s not true, is it?” Bingley asked as he thrust the Times into Darcy’s hand.

  Darcy scanned the folded page to see what Charles had found so upsetting. Finally, he came across the article that had caused his friend to seek him out with such haste. His face blanched. He clenched his jaw, and his nostrils flared, as he attempted to contain his anger.

  Bingley knew he had found the announcement.

  “Gods teeth, I should have known she would do something like this. Is this the early edition, Charles?” Darcy asked with urgency.

  “Yes…I think so. What are you going to do?”

  “I’d like to strangle the blasted woman. Instead, I must ride to town and make the editor print a retraction. Do you return with me, Charles?”

  “Err, I rather thought I would spend the rest of the day at Longbourn. I did promise the ladies I would take tea with them,” Bingley replied shyly.

  Relieved to be going alone, Darcy quickly sought out Mrs Bennet and make his excuses, then cast Elizabeth a brief, but intense look of regret.

  Although they had been apart for only a few days, Bingley’s heart ached with the loss of Jane’s company. He had already decided if Jane gave him the slightest encouragement he would ask her to be his wife.

  Having re-joined the rest of the family, and after a suitable number of pleasantries had been exchanged, Bingley quietly drew Jane to one side.

  While sitting next to his beloved Jane, her soft, gentle demeanour confirmed what he suspected. She did indeed, return his affection.

  Charles lifted Jane’s hand to his lips, and her shy and loving smile emboldened him.

  “Shall I go to your father, Jane?”

  It was not the flowery proposal he had imagined when proposing to the woman he loved, but Jane understood him perfectly.


  With lowered lashes and soft words, she gave her reply.

  “Yes, Charles.”

  He gave her hand a squeeze and then made his excuses, going directly to Mr Bennet’s study. At last, he could ask Mr Bennet for his daughter’s hand in marriage.

  The moment the door closed behind Mr Bingley, Mrs Bennet rushed over to Jane’s side.

  “Well?” she asked impatiently.

  Jane smiled broadly.

  “He has gone to speak to Papa.”

  “Oh, Jane, I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing. Two daughters engaged! Who would have thought!” and she clapped her hands in delight.

  Elizabeth had suspected a proposal was imminent and turned to smile warmly at Jane.

  Elizabeth knew how much her sister loved and admired Mr Bingley, and he clearly loved her. No couple could be better matched than Charles Bingley and her dear sister, Jane.

  Everyone was gathered in the drawing room and made ready to toast the happy couple. While the group waited for Mrs Hill to fetch the wine, Elizabeth returned to the parlour to pack away the unfinished game of backgammon. As she did so, she spotted the newspaper discarded by Darcy. Her curiosity piqued, Elizabeth picked it up and scanned the pages. Most of the names were unknown to her. Lady Matilda Berricksworth was to marry Lord Ernest Goodfellow, and Miss Petunia Lakeside had become engaged to the right honourable Mr Wilbur Brentwood. All very interesting but nothing exciting. Then, just as she was about to throw it in the bin, a name jumped out at her.

  Prominently placed in a triple-edged box was this announcement.

  Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, owner of the Pemberley Estate in Derbyshire

  Is happy to announce his forthcoming marriage to,

  Miss Anne de Bourgh, sole heir to the Rosings Estate in Kent

  The couple will be married at Rosings in the New Year.

  With the full blessing of the bride’s mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.