Alias Thomas Bennet (23 page)

“I will have the carriage readied for first light. I will accompany you as far as Shelton Manor, then I must be away to carry out Shelton’s wishes. We will leave Fitzwilliam here with Nanny. I do not want the boy exposed to the conversations that must take place at Shelton, nor the emotions.”

“Nor to see Olivia in such distress. Must you deliver the letter to London personally, my dear? Can you not send a servant?”

“It is a delicate matter. He prefers that I tend to it to ensure privacy regarding the matter.”

“I am afraid for you and Shelton, George. Please try to convince him not to fight.”

“I will speak to him, dear, but I do not anticipate a change in his decision. She is his wife. They are our best friends. The baby is our goddaughter. As much as I fear for my friend, I respect his decision and I will support him to uphold his honour. He would do the same for me.”

***

A fortnight passed while his parents were away from Pemberley. Young Fitzwilliam Darcy knew they were coming home that day, and he watched for the carriage, excited for the reunion and wanting to tell them all about the adventures he had during their absence. Mrs. Reynolds would not allow him out of doors in the rain, so he waited rather impatiently in the entrance hall.

When his parents entered, he saw that each held a small child, and he rushed to embrace his mother. His father released a chubby blonde girl, a little less than two years of age, to the floor and then hugged the boy. The girl eyed the boy with suspicion.

“Hello, Jenny! Do you remember me?” he asked as she regarded him with large china-blue eyes while holding his father’s breeches in one hand, the other in a fist in her mouth. Fitzwilliam bent with his hands on his knees and a cheery expression as he looked at the child. He held out his hand to her and said, “Come, Jenny! I have many good toys. Can she walk by herself, Father?”

“She can, but she is timid. We will have her taken to the nursery shortly, and you can play with her there.”

“Very well, Father,” the boy said solemnly, then regarded his mother with wonder. “Is that Baby Beth?”

“Yes, dear.” Anne Darcy lowered the baby so he could meet her.

“Hello, Baby Beth. You are very small!” He timidly touched her plump cheek as her bright eyes met his. She yawned and Fitzwilliam laughed. The baby reached out with one chubby hand, and he held out a finger, as he had done when Jane was a baby, and she clutched it in her wee fist. He looked up to his mother, and they shared a smile.

“Mama, could they stay here and be my sisters?” he asked, as he always had since first meeting Baby Jane. Anne and George Darcy shared a look. The situation was different now, and this was a question they had already asked of their grieving friend; however, he desperately wanted to keep his daughters. The Darcys agreed that if any man could bring up two babies on his own, it was Shelton, and they offered to care for the girls while he dealt with business related to his wife’s death.

“Dear, the girls have a father who loves them very much. We can visit them at Shelton Manor, and they can come to see us, just as Jenny always has.”

Fitzwilliam looked towards the floor. He was aware there was no mention of the girls’ mother and he knew why. He had heard the servants whispering that Lady Shelton had passed away, and he knew what that meant: Lady Shelton had gone to heaven and would never come back. He would not admit it, but he was now terrified of losing his mother. He felt tears filling his eyes and hoped no one saw them.

His nanny scooped up little Jenny. His mother softly told him that the nurse was to take the baby to the nursery. Fitzwilliam glanced up at his mother, and she gave him a gentle smile of assurance. He looked to where the baby still held his finger and pulled gently to release it from her grasp, but she held tight. He furrowed his brow as he tried unsuccessfully to pry her tiny fingers loose. He made a funny face at her, and the baby smiled and gurgled then released him.

“Bye, bye, baby Beth,” he said in a cooing voice, smiling.

***

19 April 1812
Rosings, Kent

Darcy read the two letters several times and was well able to understand his duty. He was shocked, confounded, and curious at the revelations contained within, but as was to be expected, those emotions soon gave way to anxiety and self-deprecation.

Daughter of an earl. Enormous fortune. Her parents among the best of people. My dear parents as her godparents.
He was dumbfounded. The implications were clear. The woman he had loved so long but hesitated to offer for was about to be recognized as a most sought-after heiress. Every charming, lively, amiable, handsome, fortune-hunting suitor in the country would be ready to please Lady Elizabeth Lydon, and he might pale in comparison.

Darcy regretted his delay in proposing and wondered how she would interpret his declaration once she was privy to the intelligence contained in the missive. He believed Elizabeth’s inevitable response would be to reject his suit; at the very least, she would be well advised to defer her decision.

Chapter 15:
During which the reader is subjected to a totally saccharine non-canon version of the Hunsford proposal.

9 April 1812
Rosings Park, Kent

Darcy awaited Elizabeth’s arrival for dinner with both happy anticipation and dread. He was not certain how she would react to his addresses if she thought they were only due to the newly disclosed knowledge of her fortune and connections. When she arrived, she looked at him with sparkling eyes, and at the first opportunity, he moved to stand near her.

“Mr. Darcy, I am looking forward to seeing Jane and Mr. Bingley now that they have sent such good news to us.”

“Yes, I am as well. I was delighted to hear of their engagement.”

“They are well-suited.”

“Indeed they are. Bingley could not have chosen anyone more compatible to his character.”

Lady Catherine chose this moment to interject, “Pray, Darcy, what are you talking about with Miss Bennet?”

“We were discussing the recent betrothal of Miss Elizabeth’s elder sister to my friend Mr. Bingley.”

“Who is this Mr. Bingley? What are his connections?”

“He is from the north, has a fortune of £100,000 derived from business interests and has lately let a property in Hertfordshire near Miss Elizabeth’s home with intent to purchase the land and become gently situated.”

“In trade, is he? I hope her parents are not displeased with the connection since Mr. Bennet is a gentleman. I should advise this Mr. Bingley to purchase before his wedding to make the match seem more appropriate.

“Miss Bennet, who are your connections? Have you relatives in Town?”

“My uncle in Town is in the import business, and my other uncle is a solicitor in Meryton.”

“But you have relations near Matlock, do you not?” Lady Catherine was relentless in her questioning, hoping to have her suspicions realized about Elizabeth’s relationship to her old friends, Lord and Lady Shelton. She was certain Elizabeth looked a great deal like Lady Shelton.

“Not to my knowledge, madam.”

“You should ask your parents. Perhaps on your mother’s side. You must have better connections there.”

Elizabeth was saved by the call for dinner and fortunate to be seated at the far end of the table from Lady Catherine. The colonel was the beneficiary of Lady Catherine’s dissertations for the duration of the meal while Elizabeth conversed primarily with Mr. and Mrs. Collins. When the former saw fit to once again enlighten his cousin regarding his fortunate ability to interest Lady Catherine in providing him the position of rector of Hunsford, the latter carefully suggested that Elizabeth had already acknowledged this fact and gently admonished his overly verbose manner and need to dominate the conversation.

After dinner, Elizabeth was once again applied to play the pianoforte, and Darcy quickly offered to turn her pages before Fitzwilliam was able to do so. He took delight in the opportunity to sit very close to her and enjoyed her playing and singing of a Mozart aria from
The Marriage of Figaro.

Darcy’s presence affected her so much that she forgot her carefully practised fingering and struggled her way through much of it, feeling relieved that she was eventually successful at minimizing the discordant notes. Were he to know she had selected the piece just for him, she would have been even more nervous.

When she finished playing, and seeing Lady Catherine absorbed in a conversation with Mrs. Collins, Darcy invited Elizabeth to take some air on the terrace. The evening was cool, so she fetched her shawl. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked as if he were about to follow, but Anne’s hand stayed him. Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth as they walked along the garden path outside the windows.

They stopped under an arbour near the entrance to Lady Catherine’s maze, and Darcy boldly took her hands in his. Her eyes widened with the intimacy of the gesture, and she swallowed hard. Suddenly, her feelings were clear to her—she loved him and maybe always had. Too much time had been wasted listening to her pride and doubting all but her dislike for him.

Darcy was unaware he had made such an impression. He looked down at their entwined hands while collecting his thoughts. He was silent for some several minutes without realizing it.

“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth said, finally. He felt apprehension, admiration, and excitement all at once. Raising his eyes, he saw what he wished in hers. She smiled reassuringly, and he inhaled deeply before he began speaking.

“Miss Elizabeth, I want you to know that your father has disclosed your situation to me; however, I must assure you that it is not important to my suit. I had decided to make my declaration even when I thought your situation beneath me. Although I struggled to reconcile myself to a connection with someone whose family and circumstances were so far below my own, I ultimately determined my depth of regard and independence of situation allow me the freedom to marry as I please. My friendship with your good father also helped me justify such a union. I have held my feelings to myself for some months now, but I can no longer act as such.

“Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

He searched her eyes and saw some astonishment, though undeniably mixed with something more than friendship. She wet her lips, swallowed, and nervously glanced away.

He saw this as a desire for him to continue. “My regard for you is long standing. When I first knew you at Longbourn, I respected your clever intellect and esteemed your spirited challenges, and I began to feel an affection that has only increased with time. I have seen how gentle and loving, how kind and loyal you are with your family, and that inspired my tender feelings to grow. I adore watching you tease and laugh, especially when it is directed at me. I am captivated by your loveliness, and I am lost when I look into your beautiful eyes.

“When I danced with you at the Netherfield ball, I could not but feel that you were the most enchanting creature I had ever beheld, and it was then that my heart truly became yours. During these weeks in Kent, as I have come to know you better, my regard has turned into a deep passion. After our walk in the park yesterday, I imagined you by my side at Pemberley and I knew what I must do. I have since thought of little else but to find time alone with you to declare myself.”

He paused and leaned in towards her, close enough that he could feel the tickling of her hair on his lips.

“You have beguiled me, bewitched me, enchanted me to my very soul. I long to be your lover, your confidante, your best friend. My heart aches when I am away from your presence. I cannot continue this way. Please, Elizabeth, relieve my misery and say you will marry me.” He continued softly, “I love you so dearly,” and followed his declaration by taking her into his arms and pressing his lips gently against hers.

To say that Elizabeth was overwhelmed would be as much an understatement as it would be to say she was overjoyed. She could not believe how wonderful that first kiss felt, and her heart overflowed with love for him. She swallowed again and tried to gather her confused thoughts, but was not quite successful.

“I take it you did not bring me here to listen to my story about Mr. Wickham!” she retorted abruptly then immediately realised her mistake as he pulled back. He appeared confused and hurt as, once again, his archenemy interfered with his happiness.

She was dismayed and cried, “Oh, Mr. Darcy, I am so sorry! I cannot believe I could say such a thing! It seems that your declaration has affected my sensibilities!” Her eyes filled with tears, and she said with a wavering voice, “Oh, I have ruined it! You must despise my thoughtlessness!”

Determined not to lose her heart’s desire, she impulsively rose on her tiptoes, took his face in her hands, pulled his head down, and planted a firm kiss on his lips. She looked into his eyes and said with vehemence, “What I
meant
to say is I love you excessively! You surprised me, and I could not think, but I wanted to say I love you! If the offer still stands, I will say yes. Yes, yes, I will marry you.”

He looked at her with all the heartfelt joy that newly acknowledged lovers have and pulled her closer. Their noses bumped and she giggled, but Darcy silenced her with his lips, kissing her slowly, longingly, tenderly. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and felt his strong arms close tightly around her. He pulled his head away slightly while still holding her close and brushed the tips of his fingers along the edge of her face just under her curls, ending with a stroke along her neck. She could barely breathe.