The Houseguest A Pride and Prejudice Vagary (29 page)

“I will admit that it is possible to be settled 
too
 near one’s family. I believe
there are a great many places I could be happy.” She looked from one to the
other, wondering what they were thinking, and what they thought of her, and
what they made of each other. What a fine situation this was!
They continued to question her back and forth, occasionally speaking over one
another, each man wondering what the other was doing there. 
Sir Malcolm felt Elizabeth had made her preference perfectly clear, and thought
Darcy was being dense or stubborn in not removing himself. 
Darcy knew only that Elizabeth had not moved away when he had touched her under
the table and took that as an acceptance of his attentions, and wished Sir
Malcolm would take the hint and leave off.
Later that night, after all the guests had gone and each of her attendants - as
she’d come to think of them - had kissed her hand, smiled privately, and left,
Elizabeth ordered a bath and gratefully sunk into the steaming water. 
What a mess! She was going to have to talk to her Aunt Gardiner about this
tomorrow. She had to undo this somehow. 
But on the bright side, at least she knew how Darcy felt about her now. She
went to sleep with a tiny smile on her lips.

Chapter
27

“Oh, Aunt! It was awful!” Elizabeth
was sitting in Mrs. Gardiner’s private sitting room Saturday morning, giving
her a detailed description of the events of the previous evening.
Mrs. Gardiner stifled a small laugh and looked at her niece squarely. “I know
these things are not considered proper, Elizabeth, but they are sometimes done,
as you witnessed last night. I’m sure neither meant any harm. You said yourself
Sir Malcolm thought you instigated it. He probably would not have continued if
he did not think you approved.”
“Yes, you are right.” Elizabeth made a face and looked down.
“And what of Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth flushed slightly. “What of him?”
“
He
 did initiate it
himself. He is obviously interested in you, Lizzy. How do you feel about him?”
“Do you really think he is interested in me?”
“My dear niece! Do you not have eyes? He watches you constantly, has followed
you all over the country, and makes every excuse to see you. He has invited you
to spend the summer at his home. Are these not signs enough – even without his
behavior last night?”
“What made him do such a thing?” Elizabeth wailed. She stood and began pacing
in the small sitting room. “If he is interested, why did he not just say
something?”
“Men often speak in other ways, dear. You will learn this in time. But I fear
now you have a decision before you.” Elizabeth sat and dropped her head into
her hands. “You cannot court two men at once.”
“Neither has asked for a courtship.”
“I’m sure one of them will soon. And you will need to know what to answer
beforehand. And remember dear, not everyone has a formal courtship. Mr. Bingley
and Jane only courted for a few weeks before he proposed. They were in love
before a formal courtship was even considered.”
“Do you think one of them may just propose out of the blue?” she asked,
slightly frantic.
“It is possible, I do not know either of them well enough to say. I do know,
however, that men do not like to share their fiancés. I fear that if you do not
single one out soon, you will lose them both.”
“Oh! This is all so frustrating!”
“Elizabeth,” her aunt said slowly, “you know which you prefer, do you not?”
“Oh, Aunt! They are both kind and generous and intelligent and interesting, and
both are undeniably handsome and would be excellent matches, but...” she
trailed off.
“But what, dear?”
“As yet, I am not 
in love
 with
either, but I do believe I could love them, one more than the other. Though
more is not the right word. Deeper, perhaps?”
Her aunt watched her as she paced back and forth to the window trying to sort
out her feelings. 
“I know you are not comfortable sharing your deepest feelings, Lizzy, but I do
believe it would help you to talk this through.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Some time ago, I began to have a certain…
regard… for Mr. Darcy. But then something happened and we did not speak for
some time, and I was not sure that I could trust him, that I could be happy in
life with him. I told myself that those things probably didn’t matter anyway
because he likely looked upon me as a sister or a dear friend. I recently began
to suspect he felt something more for me, but I wasn’t sure if he would act on
it. Then last night happened – and now I don’t know what to think! I feel that
I 
could
 love him. That
in fact, the only thing stopping me from being deeply and ridiculously in love
with him is my own trepidation. I have not let myself love him! I think that if
I were to let go, I could easily give him my whole heart.” She looked out the
window and her shoulders slumped as she toyed with her necklace.
“Sir Malcolm has been nothing but honest with me from the very beginning. He
has never lied to me, nor offended me or hurt me. He has said he wishes to know
me better. He is intelligent and has many interesting things to say. I enjoy
his company and like him, but I do not feel anything deeper for him. Sometimes,
I think that if I had never met Mr. Darcy, I could have been quite happy with
Sir Malcolm. And I may still be. Neither has proposed or made me an offer of
courtship. Sir Malcolm has yet to meet my family – he may change his mind. I do
not believe he loves me, not yet. But from the way he looks at me, I think he
would like to.”
“And when Mr. Darcy looks at you?”
“When Mr. Darcy looks at me, it's as if we are the only two people in the
world.” She sat down in front of her aunt and clasped her hands.
“Aunt! What am I to do? After last night, Sir Malcolm believes I have singled
him out and wish for his attentions. Mr. Darcy believes I willingly accept his.
I have made an unbelievable mess!”
Mrs. Gardiner patted her niece’s hand and gave her a warm smile. “There, there.
Do not fret. We will work this out. The next time Sir Malcolm comes to call,
you simply tell him that you were startled and kicked him by mistake, and that
you did not want to be rude and that is why you did not pull your foot away.
That is, if you have decided against Sir Malcolm.” Elizabeth looked down. “You
are seeing Mr. Darcy again tomorrow, are you not?”
“Yes, I am spending the afternoon with him and Georgiana.”
“Perhaps he will take the opportunity to speak to you about his intentions. If
he does not, you can always help him along.” Elizabeth looked at her
quizzically. “Simply drop Sir Malcolm into the conversation. Mention that he
called on you last week and that you expect him to call again soon. Perhaps he
will take the hint and tell you how he feels so that you may make a decision
and move on.”
“That is good advice, Aunt, but I hate to manipulate him into a confession. If
he does love me, or holds a regard for me, I want him to confess it on his own.
I would not wish to force such a declaration.”
“I understand dear, and I know you will do what is best when the time
comes.” 

~

That afternoon, when Elizabeth returned to Matlock House, she immediately
retreated to the library. She chose a book that she was sure would distract her
from her present troubles and started up the steps to her room. Jane was still
visiting some garden or other with Bingley and the Hursts and would not return
until after dinner, so Elizabeth would be spending a quiet evening with the
earl and countess.
It was funny, but she was beginning to feel almost like a daughter of the
house. She knew Lady Matlock had no daughters, but had always wanted one. She
had confided in Elizabeth one day that she had had a baby girl, a short time
after her son Richard was born, but her pains had begun early and the poor dear
had not lasted above a day. She was buried at Matlock, and every year at the
anniversary of her birth and death, her mother placed flowers on her
grave. 
As if that weren't enough, her next confinement was breech, and after two days
of hard labor, and no movement felt from the babe, they had begun to lose hope.
She had delivered a stillborn infant, another daughter, and had been unable to
conceive again. The doctor had speculated that she was too damaged from the
birth, but in her secret heart, Helen Fitzwilliam believed she simply could not
take another heartache, so her body had mercifully spared her.
Any momentary annoyance Elizabeth had felt with the countess's machinations was
quickly allayed, and she hoped that her willingness to share this season of her
life, and even Jane's willingness to let her share in the wedding preparations,
had gone some way to heal the ache in her heart.
“Miss Elizabeth!”
“Lord Matlock!” Elizabeth stopped on the stairs and curtseyed to her
host. 
“Are you off to read?”
“Yes, I thought I might relax for a little while before time to change for
dinner.”
“Would you like company? I was about to sit in the blue sitting room with a
book as well.”
“Thank you, milord. I would like that.”
She turned and led the way to the back of the house where there was a small but
comfortable sitting room, decorated in smoky blues and filled with light from
the north facing windows. Lord and Lady Matlock rarely received guests there,
but used it as a private retreat for the family and close friends.
The two sat, Lord Matlock in a large wingback chair, where his dog, Rex,
quickly curled at his feet. Elizabeth sat comfortably in the corner of the
settee and opened her book.
Lord Matlock looked out of the corner of his eye at the young lady residing in
his home. Her presence in their lives had come quite unexpectedly, but he did
not regret it. He knew that Helen had felt the loss of daughters acutely. Her
sister and brother each had two sons, so she was not even granted the relief of
nieces to spoil. 
Because of Lady Catherine, a close relationship with Anne was out of the
question, so that left Georgiana as her only outlet for maternal affection. It
had been wonderful for Georgiana to have someone fill the place of mother in
her life, especially someone who had been so devoted to her own mother. 
However, Georgiana's remarkable resemblance to her departed friend often pained
his wife, though she would never be so indelicate as to say so, as her husband,
he knew. He had, on occasion, heard her call his niece by his sister's name,
only to quickly correct herself. He understood her pain, as he missed his
younger sister as well. 
Thus, he was grateful for the presence of Elizabeth in their lives. She reminded
him of Anne in some ways. They both had a joy for simply living that he had
always admired, and a well-developed sense of humor. Elizabeth could not look
more different, though, and he noted it with relief. 
If she had a fortune, or if he had a small estate to bequeath his younger son,
he thought she might do for Richard. It would be lovely to have her for a
daughter. But alas, he thought the two had a more sibling-like relationship,
and he would be content to have her as a close friend of the family.
Henry ceased his daydreaming and went back to his book, only to be interrupted
by his wife a few minutes later. She was followed shortly by the butler, who
announced they had a visitor. Removing to the front parlor, they were all
equally surprised when the butler announced Sir Malcolm.
“Good day, Sir Malcolm. How nice to see you again.” Lady Matlock graciously
directed him to a chair between herself and Elizabeth. 
“The pleasure is mine, milady. I must admit to this not being a typical parlor
call.”
“Oh? And to what do we owe the honor of your visit?” Lady Matlock asked,
clearly intrigued but also amused.
“I have come to ask Miss Elizabeth to join me for a walk in the park. It is a
lovely day and I thought she would enjoy the sunshine.”
“I'm sure she will be very happy to accompany you. Elizabeth, why do you not
fetch your things while I keep Sir Malcolm company?”
Elizabeth nodded, knowing resistance was futile and realizing this would give
her a perfect chance to speak to Sir Malcolm about the events of the dinner
party.
Five minutes later, a maid was set to chaperone, and she was stepping out the
front door on his arm. Lady Matlock smiled broadly as she sent them on their
way, her husband chuckling silently and shaking his head behind her.
“And just what is so funny, Henry?” Lady Matlock asked with her hands on her
hips.
“He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and smiled. “Nothing, my dear, nothing
at all. Though it is a shame women are not allowed in the military. Your gift
for strategy could be quite useful there, I think.”
Lady Matlock huffed until he turned away, then smiled to herself as she
followed him back to the sitting room.

~

Sir Malcolm Rutherford was a mysterious man. Accounts of him ranged from rake
to philanthropist, from loving brother to disobedient son. He was a friend to
many and a stranger to no one. He was on every guest list and sought after at
every dinner party. He was always impeccably dressed, but never a dandy; lean,
but not overly thin; strong, but not overly broad. He sat his horse well and
filled out his dinner coat nicely. His jet black hair fell in silky waves
across his worry-free brow and his ice-blue eyes could pierce without damaging.
Such a man inspired camaraderie in his fellow gentlemen and admiration in women
both young and old. After the passing of his father, he began to spend less
time in town and more time at his estate with his mother and younger sister,
both of whom doted on him excessively. He was still seen in town occasionally,
but he was subdued, restrained, less wild in his pursuit of pleasure. 
After his mother passed a few years later, he disappeared altogether, only to
resurface in a year with his sister, now a woman in search of a husband, on his
arm. Within a year she was married to an Earl, and he was free to return to his
former ways. 
But he did not. 
Thus began the mystery of Sir Malcolm. Even though he was in full possession of
his fortune and was known to be free of encumbering debts, he did not continue
his previous ways of staying out all night and sleeping all day. No, he went to
his club and played chess with his father's contemporaries. He attended hunting
parties in the country. He was present at select balls and dinner parties and
was polite to all in attendance and flirtatious with the young maidens and a
few lucky widows, but he remained closed – hidden – unavailable. 
What made Sir Malcolm even more vexing was that he could be startlingly direct
at times, which never failed to catch one off-guard, as most had gotten used to
his more circumspect behavior of the last few years. He was always charming,
and yet always at arm's length. 
Then, when one least expected it, he would come closer, eliminating the
distance between the parties, and shocking the recipient with his sudden candor.
Thus was the case for Elizabeth, who at times did not understand him at all,
and at others found him refreshingly honest. However, even she did not expect
his honesty to go quite this far.
“May I ask you a question, Miss Bennet?”
“Of course, Sir.”
“I'd like to know if your heart is engaged?”
“That is a highly inappropriate question, Sir!”
“I know.” He looked at her steadily and they kept walking along.
“Most men would ask if I was being courted or if I was seriously considering a
suitor. Your question is unexpected.”
“I realize that. But I think it best to get to the heart of the matter whenever
possible.”
“And may I ask to what these questions tend?”
“Certainly. If I am to win your heart, I first need to know if it is available
for the winning.”
She looked at him, a light blush on her cheeks. “You are bold, Sir.”
“Fortune favors the brave, Miss Bennet.”
“And what if my answer is no and my heart is available. What will you do then?”
“Actively pursue your heart, naturally.” His voice was smooth, light, natural,
and completely unnerving.
“Pardon me, Sir, but there is nothing natural about it. Most men seek only a
fortunate alliance with an amiable woman; the heart rarely comes into play,”
she replied as she attempted to keep her flustered feelings from showing on her
face.
“But that is not what you want,” he replied steadily.
“No, it is not. I had always hoped to marry for love. Mutual respect and esteem
in a relationship are essential for lasting happiness.” She spoke quietly,
focusing on the path ahead of her.
“A wise philosophy I think.”
“And what if my heart is engaged? What will you do then?” She looked up, her
chin slightly raised.
“If he is worthy of you and returns your regard, I will bow out gracefully and
hope to remain friends. If he is not or does not, I will wait patiently for you
to recover from your wound and try again.”
“You seem to have given this a great deal of thought.”
“And you seem to be avoiding the question.”
“You are astute, Sir Malcolm. The truth is, I do not know. Sometimes, I think I
am as free as a bird, and others I feel my heart is not mine to command.”
“That must be confusing.”
“You have no idea.”
“Fear not, Miss Bennet. I will not disappear at the first sign of indecision. I
am a patient man. I can wait.”
She smiled brilliantly at him. “You cannot know how nice that is to hear, Sir
Malcolm.”