Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) (26 page)

“I do love you, my Elizabeth. Heart
and soul.”

He returned her tender kiss, then
pressed her head against his shoulder, his chin resting atop the loose curls
and hands lightly caressing her back.
Perfect. She fits me perfectly.
It
soothed him to hold her, to feel her warm and alive in his arms.

“Very well then. I shall let Lady
Catherine stew and rage if she must. I refuse to listen.”

“Hopefully she comes no closer than
Rosings, or we may hear her raging. Poor Charlotte! I wonder if even Mr.
Collins’s praise will appease.”

Darcy did not reply. Truthfully, he
cared less about either Collins—not that he held any unkind thoughts
toward Mrs. Collins, but he did not know her well enough to muster sympathy.
Elizabeth’s remarks, which he knew were designed to lighten his heart, only reminded
him of his cousin Anne.

“What is it, William? There is
something else troubling you. Talking to me may help.”

Darcy inhaled the sweet aroma of
lavender embedded in her silky tresses, and then exhaled in a breathy chuckle. “You
will never cease to amaze me, Elizabeth.” He placed a lingering kiss on her
forehead and led her to a sofa.

“Your jest brought to mind Anne. We
are close friends, Anne and I, and have been since children. Our mutual
affection is real, and precisely why we know how wrong we are for each other as
marriage partners. Furthermore, imagining being…intimate…as husband and wife”—he
cleared his throat—“well, it is incestuous, to be honest.”

Evading Elizabeth’s eyes, Darcy
nervously smoothed his palm across his right thigh. “Despite Lady Catherine’s
insistence, Anne and I would never have agreed to marry, so this eventuality
was destined no matter whom I chose to marry. I know Anne is thrilled for my
happiness. What I abhor is her being alone at Rosings, forced to bear the brunt
of her mother’s ire.”

“Oh, William, I am sorry for this!
I regret that while in Kent, I paid scant heed to Miss de Bourgh, although she
seemed pleasant enough. To be honest, I presumed that your not marrying her,
when Lady Catherine claimed it a foregone arrangement, meant you were not fond.
I apologize for my error.”

“There is no need. I can see the
logic in your conclusion. In truth, over these past half-dozen years, Anne and
I have consciously inserted a distance between us when in Lady Catherine’s
presence. Her badgering worsened when we displayed our affection. As is
obvious, our strategy of pretended dislike, or at least disinterest, did not
thwart her intention, but it did allow us to experience some peace.”

“Poor Miss de Bourgh.”

“Yes. Of course, Anne is familiar
with her mother’s…temper and manner of speech, shall we say. She has developed
techniques to deflect, or avoid when necessary. A fortuitous fainting spell or
onslaught of fatigue will do the trick if nothing else works.”

Darcy chuckled, a smile touching
his lips. But Elizabeth was frowning. “Is Miss de Bourgh’s illness feigned
then?”

“Sadly it is not. She has suffered from
a heart ailment since an adolescent. I only meant that her illness provides a
ready excuse to be left alone. Under the circumstances, I cannot fault her for
the occasional deception. And, regardless how it may appear, Lady Catherine
does love her daughter and is overly solicitous to her fragile condition.
Nevertheless, strain is not healthy for Anne, so I worry. Perhaps I can induce
Richard to take a trip to check on her. I would need to promise him the moon
since enticing him to visit Rosings under the best of occasions is a chore.
Speaking of which…”

Darcy rose and retrieved the stack
of mail from where it had been dumped onto a random table when he stormed into
the library. “You, my lovely Elizabeth, have accomplished a miracle in defusing
my fury and lifting my spirits. These letters will surely add to my tranquility
and happiness.”

He ripped open the one from Colonel
Fitzwilliam first and scanned the practically unreadable penmanship that only
decades of deciphering made it possible for him to manage.

“Excellent! As I hoped, Richard
says he will be returning to London early next week. I cannot wait to tell him
of us.”

“I thought you wrote him already.”

“I decided to wait to see him in
person. By the time a letter reached him after bumping hither and yon, he would
be in Town anyway. And, with that in mind”—he tapped the twine-tied
bundle with one finger—“these are from my solicitor. I shall look through
them tonight, but I am certain this means I need to leave for a short time. I
am sorry, Elizabeth.”

“You warned me, and I understand.
Your business cannot be ignored. In a few weeks, Jane and I will be in London,
so we will visit with you then, yes?”

Darcy stroked her cheek, smiling as
he answered, “Yes, when you are in London, I will surely be there. However, I
have no intention of tarrying in Town for weeks. Forgive another display of my
ardency for you, Elizabeth, but I truly believe I would go mad if separated for
so long.” She flushed prettily and lowered her eyes. Darcy continued his
feathering caress of her cheek. “I will attend to my business, some of which
concerns you…No, do not ask, Elizabeth”—her mouth snapped closed—“because
I will not tell you. Marriage to me, you may as well accept, entails being
pampered and surprised upon occasion. So, I will do what I must, including
visiting with my cousin, and return to Netherfield as soon as possible.”

“When will you leave?”

“Tomorrow, early. Best to get it
done with. Fortunately, Mr. Daniels and his staff are extraordinarily
competent, so that portion of the journey will be swiftly accomplished. The rest
may take a bit more time and effort, but I shan’t be gone more than a week, I
promise.”

“This is all quite mysterious, Mr.
Darcy. Now my mind is whirling with intriguing scenarios!”

“Good. It shall occupy your time
while I am away. Of course, you will undoubtedly enjoy the solitude and
reprieve from my selfish monopolization of your day.”

“Indeed, it
has
been an
exhaustive week, catering to the whims of such a demanding gentleman.”

Darcy chuckled, knowing she was
teasing but also suspecting she would not suffer without his company to the
degree he would. Not wanting to think about it, he turned to Georgiana’s
letter. He held the pages so Elizabeth could read along with him, a move that
startled her, judging by the expression on her face and hesitation before
leaning closer. He doubted Georgiana’s letter too personal or private.
Moreover, the importance in Elizabeth reading of Georgiana’s delight in their
betrothal transcended any possible embarrassment on his part.

As it happened, the references to
Darcy’s “poetic phrases of love” and “heart-fluttering descriptions of his
Elizabeth” as well as a lengthy commentary on how enraptured she, Mrs.
Reynolds, and Mrs. Annesley were by his “ceaseless expressions of joy”—indicating
his letter was apparently shared with them and goodness only knows who else
among the Pemberley staff—did cause his cheeks to color.

Elizabeth merely smiled and
murmured, “How sweet,” but said nothing more on that topic. Instead, she
focused on Georgiana’s gushing delight, saying, “You were correct. Miss Darcy
does seem stupendously pleased about our engagement.”

“If I had to guess, the only reason
she did not beg me to fetch her forthwith was to partake of the preparations
for your arrival.”

“There you go again, speaking of my
joining the household as if a tremendous undertaking. Seriously, William, I
hope you have not gone to extremes. My needs are simple and the only wish I
have is to be with you. My embarrassment would be acute to think everyone at
Pemberley was being put upon, or you were spending exorbitant amounts of money
for objects or furnishings that are unnecessary.”

Darcy listened to her carefully but
did not hasten to respond. Slowly, he nodded and clasped her hands gently. “I
believe this area is one where we need to shift our thinking.”

He filtered through the correct
phrases while she stared at him with a faint frown. “Elizabeth, I cannot begin
to convey how marvelous it is to find a woman, a quality woman, who loves and
wants me for who I am inside, the man Fitzwilliam, and not only for what I can
provide as Mr. Darcy, gentleman of fortune and prestige. It is a gift. You are
a gift. We are blessed to have found each other, are we not?”

“Yes…yes, we are. And I do love
you. You, William. The rest is nice, I am sure, but not important to me.”

“Therein lies the irony, my love.
The rest, as you put it, is also who I am. Good and bad, I suppose. I am the
product of my upbringing, heritage, station, and wealth. Thanks to you, I am
learning to be a better person, but I shall always be Darcy of Pemberley. As
such, I will forever, God willing, be able to provide for you abundantly. As I
will for our children someday.

“To me, it is not merely a matter
of having the wherewithal to do so, but it is also that my heart
desires
to take care of you. This includes your physical comforts and surroundings, and
the pretty trinkets. It brings me joy to express my love in this way.”

To emphasize his statement, he
twisted the sparkling ring on her left hand and then planted a kiss on the
knuckle above it. “All that being said, I am aware of how uncomfortable this is
for you. I am not sure exactly why, but I never want you to be uncomfortable
with me or about our future together.”

Elizabeth was staring at their
linked hands in her lap, making her face unreadable. He was unsure if he should
say more or give her a chance to respond. Luckily, Elizabeth Bennet, even if
taken unawares or nervous, was quick witted and rarely backed away from open
conversation.

“It is uncomfortable, William, although
I confess I cannot say why precisely. I suppose it is a residual fear that you
might wonder, however slightly, if my change of heart was because of…the rest.”

“Considering you knew about ‘the
rest’ from the moment I walked into the Meryton Assembly and still have a
difficult time calling it what it is—my money—you are safe from me doubting
your motives.”

“Good to know,” she said, smiling
but still gazing downward. “Honestly, I am not too worried, given all we have
been through and how I abused you. Not the smart move of a woman after a man
for his income. I know this, and you know this, and a handful of others as
well, but…”

“But,” he finished when she trailed
off, “too many others
do
think that is why you are marrying me. Is that
what troubles you?” She looked at him, tears filling her eyes as she nodded
once. “Ah! My darling Elizabeth!” He kissed her lightly, brushing the tear that
fell. “If you refer to Lady Catherine or Caroline Bingley, they do not matter.
You said it yourself! People will presume and speculate, primarily because that
is what bored people do. We know the truth of our relationship, and in time it
shall be evident.”

“It is not just Miss Bingley with
her insinuations or Lady Catherine with her accusations. Nor do I dwell upon
the opinions of strangers. It is the people here, in Hertfordshire, most whom I
have known all my life. It is humiliating, and maddening, to hear the comments
and whispers, answer the same questions, see the surprise or indicting smirks.
How can they think so poorly of me?”

Darcy could easily answer that
question but preferred not to remind her of Mrs. Bennet’s unsubtle maneuvering
and loud declarations regarding her daughters, especially Jane, and the two new
gentlemen in town. As greatly as Darcy regretted his rude behavior during those
initial weeks of their acquaintance, it undoubtedly spared him having to
contend with Mrs. Bennet and her matchmaking. Not that most mothers and fathers
think differently; they simply have a bit more tact as they go about finagling
their children’s futures. The reality is that wealth and rank
are
the
driving forces behind a large percentage of unions. Marriages for love are the
rarity, and even then the anticipation is that practicalities play a role. The
prevailing judgment is to applaud a joining for practical purposes, not to
condemn it.

Not wishing to point out facts
connected to past troubles, Darcy answered with a less inciting response to her
query. “Dearest, I believe you are mistaken. Surprised, yes—I am sure
many of the local citizens are. That, however, is a reflection on me, not you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Elizabeth, your friends know you
are independent and intelligent. And as I am now painfully aware, they were
privy to how intensely you disliked me. Furthermore, they disliked me as well,
for some good reasons—”

“Because of Mr. Wickham—”

“He would not have been believed if
I had not given them reason.” He pressed two fingers against her lips to
forestall the rebuttal he sensed coming. “That is past. The relevant point now
is that because of their familiarity with you, the citizens I have encountered
thus far at our gatherings are curious more than anything. My impression from
the majority has been an honest willingness to ascertain what persuaded the
esteemed Elizabeth Bennet to accept arrogant, reticent Mr. Darcy. Perhaps he
does have a few decent qualities, they think, if Miss Eliza has agreed to risk
shackling herself to him!”

“Do not say that,” she scolded, but
with a hint of a smile at his colorful speech. “You are wonderful, William, and
they should be able to determine this immediately. You have been polite,
conversational, generous with your time, and patient with their boring stories
and fawning. I know how stressful it has been for you, yet you never complain
or back away from any invitation or annoying person. I hate that you are
striving to please while they do not recognize
this
incredible person I
am marrying. Not the single man in possession of a good fortune, who was once
considered the rightful property of anyone in Meryton with an eligible
daughter!”