An Unwavering Trust
Page 1
By L.L. Diamond
An Unwavering Trust
By L.L. Diamond
Published by White Soup Press
Copyright ©2015 LL Diamond
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted, or distributed by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed and online reviews without the express written consent of the author.
The characters portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover and internal design © 2015 L.L. Diamond
Cover design by L.L. Diamond/Diamondback Covers
ISBN-10: 0692406719
ISBN-13: 978-0-692-40671-7
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LLDiamond
Twitter: @LLDiamond2
Blog: http://lldiamondwrites.com/
Austen Variations: http://austenvariations.com/
To my friends and betas, who generously give of their own free time without complaint and ensure my books are better than I could do on my own—Thank you!
Acknowledgements
First of all, I have to thank Jane Austen, whose timeless works have inspired me, and others to re-imagine her unique and beloved characters into countless scenarios as well as times. She had a talent few possess for words and though she meant them to be more satires than romance. I appreciate both aspects when I read one of her wonderful works.
I owe a huge thank you to many people, but my first (after JA of course!) goes to Lisa Toth, Kristi Rawley, Suzan Lauder, and Janet Foster who have spent their free time pouring over, critiquing, and correcting these chapters. Their hard work helps make this suitable for reading!
I would like to thank those who run and frequent the JAFF forums, especially A Happy Assembly and Darcy and Lizzy. You have provided me a launching pad for my work and helped me become a writer—a life I never dreamed I would have. I appreciate the support of those who comment and leave me feedback as well as the community itself. Your support has meant a lot!
I would like to thank the ladies and gent at Austen Variations for welcoming me this year. I still have to pinch myself at times that I am included with such company.
Despite her death over ten years ago, my mother played a huge role in my Jane Austen addiction by introducing me to Sense and Sensibility when I was about nineteen. I miss you every day, Mom! I love you!
Lastly, I have to thank my family. They may roll their eyes at the mention of Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, or sometimes Persuasion, but they support me daily, and tell me they are proud of me.
When I first began this journey, my husband could not have explained the intricacies of fan fiction, but recently, he did so to his office staff. He surprises me all of the time, and I know that when this book is released, he will make just as big a fuss as he did when I published the first.
Lastly, I would like to thank everyone who bought a copy of one of my books. You make it possible for me to write and make it worth the time and effort of multiple rounds of editing. Thank you!
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
About the Author
Chapter 1
27 April 1810
Fitzwilliam Darcy stood before the full-length mirror in his comfortable rooms at Pemberley while James, his valet, brushed down his topcoat as he adjusted his sleeves. Satisfied with his appearance, he caught James’ eye in the mirror.
“Please have my trunk packed and ready to depart at a moment’s notice. I would also appreciate you notifying my driver to prepare the carriage and my horse.” James nodded, his expression unaffected by his master’s request for an abrupt departure from his ancestral estate.
“Of course, sir. Since, you mentioned that it was unlikely we would remain long, I took the liberty of leaving the bulk of your trunk as it was, only removing what was necessary. I could have you ready to leave in half an hour, at most.” His valet’s knowing expression made him relax somewhat. “I hope I am not being too forward when I say that regardless of the decision you make, I will wish to remain in your employ, sir.”
James had been his valet since he was young and was still employed by Darcy’s father. The servant’s request and loyalty was an honour to him. “I appreciate that, James, but let me ascertain for certain why my father has summoned me.”
His valet softly cleared his throat, an indication James was aware of information he had yet to share.
“There is talk below stairs then?” The staff knew more than he did, as usual.
“Yes, sir. The talk, which is very credible—both your father’s valet and steward were present—was of his intent to force you into a marriage to a woman of his choice.”
Darcy shifted his weight, his shoulders tensing. “My cousin?”
The valet nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I had suspected, but was not sure. Thank you for keeping your ears open on my behalf.”
“Of course, sir,” responded James, obviously pleased with his master’s praise.
He exhaled heavily, blowing his breath in front of him as he pulled at the base of his coat to straighten it. “Into the lion’s den it is,” he muttered under his breath as he headed for the corridor.
James opened the door. “Good luck, sir.”
Darcy took note of every detail he could as he passed through the hallways in the direction of the study, and committed them to memory. When he had received his father’s letter demanding he present himself at Pemberley, he had suspected why but had hoped he was incorrect.
Pemberley had been the seat of the Darcy family for several hundred years, and Fitzwilliam was the last and only Darcy heir—however, how long would he remain the heir?
Before he was prepared, he stood before the door to his father’s study. His hand lifted, almost of its own accord, and rapped on the sturdy oak, only turning the knob when his father’s voice called for him to enter. As he stepped into the room, his father, George Darcy was seated behind his desk, and his childhood playmate, George Wickham, was settled in a chair before it.
“Ah, Fitzwilliam, I am glad that you responded to me so promptly. Would you please excuse us, George? I have some business to conduct with my son.”
The sly smirk plastered onto Wickham’s face was familiar, but Darcy did his best to ignore it. Wickham had been a favourite of his father’s for years, and while Darcy did not like it one bit, he had learned to accept it. His father glanced up from his paper and quill as Wickham closed the door behind him.
“Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss.”
Darcy sat opposite to where Wickham had been seated and waited for his father to place his quill on its customary resting spot. “I hope you had a pleasant journey?” His father’s tone was congenial so far, but he could not let down his gu
ard.
“The roads were dry and the weather was pleasant. I enjoyed the ride.”
The elder Darcy nodded and leaned back in his seat. “How are things at Sagemore?”
“Very well,” he responded.
“Did you have any problems with the spring planting?”
“No, everything was completed as planned.”
His father always expected updates on Sagemore, as though that estate were a part of Pemberley. The prying for information had never bothered him in the past, yet today, the tension in the room implied he desired more information for some purpose of his own.
When it was clear nothing further would be offered, Mr. Darcy sat forward and leaned his forearms upon his desk. “I asked you here because we need to make arrangements for your upcoming wedding.”
Darcy behaved as though he were ignorant of his father’s wishes. “I have asked no lady for her hand, and I am unaware of any contracts. I am at a loss as to why you believe I am to be married.”
“Do not be daft, Fitzwilliam.” His father’s tone was testy and his expression echoed the annoyance in his voice. “You are well aware that I expect you to marry your cousin, Anne.”
He straightened himself taller in his seat, determined not to back down. “I am well aware of your wish, sir. The last I was aware, the choice of whom I wed was mine.”
“I do not know where you came by that nonsense, but I have always had a say in who you take as your wife since it affects the Darcy name and the future of Pemberley. The shades of Pemberley cannot be polluted by some social upstart like the sister of that tradesman you befriended.” The elder Darcy rolled his eyes. “If nothing else, think of your sister’s prospects when she comes of age.”
“And what of Anne’s health? “
“What of it?” His father’s response should not have surprised him, but it did.
“Do you honestly think she would be of the constitution to run Pemberley and Sagemore? What of an heir? She has always been so delicate and sickly. I am sure one confinement would kill her.”
With a casual shrug of one shoulder, his father leaned back in his chair. “Then you would be master of Rosings as well, and we would find you a bride more suitable for providing an heir after your mourning period is complete. The addition of Rosings to your holdings should allow you to choose a wife with even better connections than Anne.”
Darcy continued to breathe evenly to help disguise his irritation. “Anne and I have discussed this dream you and Lady Catherine perpetuate regarding our future marriage. She has no wish to marry me, much as I have no wish to marry her.”
His father inhaled audibly, indicative of his anger at that moment. “Anne will do as she is told.”
“Because Lady Catherine will browbeat her into submission.”
“She will do her duty, as you will do yours!” exclaimed Mr. Darcy, his face reddening with ire. He often attempted to intimidate with his incessant stare, so Darcy returned the gaze as steadily as it was given, refusing to submit.
“Even if I were inclined to marry Anne, I would not go against her wishes. I will not bring about her demise any sooner than God has intended.”
“You would deny the greatest wish of your mother!” The elder Darcy slammed his fist upon his desk with obvious fury.
Darcy stood abruptly and towered over his still-seated father. “My mother told me of her wishes concerning my future marriage, and indicated it was my choice. Do not attempt to manipulate me.” His voice had dropped to a steely tone. How dare his father attempt to sway him with the memory of his mother!
“She told me of how insistent Lady Catherine was, speaking of the alliance. How it would unite the great estates of Pemberley and Rosings. Mother would smile and say that it was an agreeable thought.” He brought his hand up and pointed at his father. “She would never attempt to force my hand in this manner, and she would be horrified by your argument.”
“This is your grandmother’s influence!” George Darcy bellowed, as he rose. He leaned forward on his knuckles and glared at his son.
“My grandmother simply continued what my mother taught me as a boy.” He defended his position with conviction but never yelled as his father had.
“I knew I should have cut you off from her influence.”
He laughed. “Cut me off? From the Dowager Countess of Matlock? You know whilst my grandfather was alive, he would have never allowed it, and you can be certain my uncle would interfere now that he is the earl.”
“Are you insinuating that they hold power over me?”
“They are exceedingly well-connected, and you know it, father. You would have found London a very unfriendly place had you defied them. Am I right to say it is the reason you never tried?” The expression that suddenly crossed his father’s face indicated he had indeed hit his mark.
His father then levelled his son with an unrelenting gaze. “Nevertheless, you will present yourself at Rosings within a fortnight and propose marriage to Anne.” He opened his mouth to speak, but his father anticipated him. “If you defy my orders, I will travel to London myself to announce your betrothal in the society pages. You would never allow Anne to be shamed.”
He had not anticipated his father’s move. The man had always been a formidable opponent at chess, and this manoeuvre revealed why. George Darcy straightened and smiled, confident in his victory. The younger Darcy bristled.
“I will take what you have to say under advisement.”
“You have no choice, Fitzwilliam. You will do as I say, or I will take action. Keep in mind that there is also Pemberley and Georgiana to consider.”
“Pardon me?” he responded incredulously. Would his father forbid a relationship between him and Georgiana if he defied his orders?
“Your ability to reside at Pemberley as well as to see your sister is contingent upon your marriage. You will not return until you are wed to your cousin.”
He clenched his hands and jaw before turning to swiftly exit the room. A happy tune was coming from the pianoforte in the music room and the sound coaxed a reluctant smile. James stood in the door to the servant’s hallway, so he strode over to stand before him.
“We will be leaving within the hour.” James nodded and disappeared down the stairs.
Darcy took a deep breath and exhaled, attempting to calm himself before he spoke with his sister. She tended to know enough of what was going on within Pemberley, and he did not wish to upset her with anything of which she was unaware.
Once he had tempered his anger, he made his way to her favourite room and opened the door with care. He could not help but grin as he watched her brow crinkle at a more difficult passage while he silently closed the door behind him.
His thirteen-year-old little sister, Georgiana, had grown several inches since the last time he had laid eyes on her. She was tall for her age; her blue eyes and dark chestnut hair made her a striking young lady.
As he listened to her with pleasure, he realised how much she had improved. He waited until she released the last chord of the piece and clapped. She startled as she jumped up from the seat.
“Fitzwilliam! I had no idea you had come in! You nearly frightened me out of my wits!” He chuckled as she came around to embrace him. “You arrived too late for me to greet you last night, and I know you are already planning on leaving us again.” She gave a small pout, prompting a bit of guilt for how little time he had spent with her, as they both took a seat upon a settee to one side of the room.
“I am sorry, Georgie. Sagemore is my estate—my responsibility—and it was necessary that I be there for the spring planting.”
She studied her fingers in her lap while he struggled to think of something to say that would help. The last thing he wanted to do was to tell her he might not be allowed to see her again. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her voice.
“I know, but I miss you when you are away.” Her gaze returned to his face, and she placed a hand over his. “Please tell me you are not going to c
apitulate to father’s commands.”
He sighed. “I do not see how I have any choice. He has threatened to post an engagement announcement in the paper. People already question why Anne is not a part of London society. Could you imagine if I publicly jilted her?”
“Poor Anne,” commiserated Georgiana. “She is really a sweet person once you get to know her.”
“I know she is, sweetling, but neither of us wishes to be married to the other. If I were to defy father, you know I would not be welcomed back at Pemberley?”
Her eyes widened. “Did he say that?”
“Yes,” he affirmed, nodding. “Which means that I would see you less than I do now.”
Rising from her seat, she paced back and forth for a minute before she abruptly turned to face him. “I would not have you sacrifice your happiness for me. One day you may resent me for it.”
He leapt to his feet. “I could never resent you!”
She shook her head and tears welled in her eyes. “You must do what makes you happy, Fitzwilliam. Neither you nor Anne would be happy in that marriage. You should find someone and marry her before father can announce the betrothal.”
With a small choke, he dropped back into his seat. “You want me to find someone and wed within a fortnight?”
“Why not?” she exclaimed. “Would it not solve the problem for both you and Anne? A betrothal announcement for someone who is already married would not be taken seriously by anyone.”
“Father would never allow me to return to Pemberley, and we would likely not be in company again until you come out or are wed yourself.”
“But we can write letters,” she said in a hopeful tone.
“You do not think he would prevent that?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Mrs. Reynolds and Taylor sort the post before he sees it. I doubt he would ever know.” She wore a wide grin, and he worried what thought had come to her mind. “Even if he did, you could have Grandmamma send them inside hers.”
“He blames Grandmamma for my refusing to go along with his wishes. He could attempt to sever your relationship with her as well if I openly defy him.”