An Unwavering Trust

by L. L. Diamond

  “If I were to leave with you today, where would you take me?” asked Miss Bennet.

  Her voice was so cautious, and he blinked for a moment. In his haste, he had not considered it. He supposed his grandmother would be willing to have guests.

  “I know my grandmother intends to spend the summer in the country, but her last letter indicated she was still in town. We would go to her house in Mayfair. From there, I would apply for a license, and we could marry as soon as possible.” She nodded, but there was still some wariness in her eyes. “You would be welcome to have the Hattie Smith you mentioned accompany you.”

  “Hattie was the maid who attended my sisters and me before the accident. Mr. Collins had no need of her when he took over the estate, and she has had difficulty finding work ever since.” She wore a hopeful expression, which made her request even more impossible to refuse.

  “You would be welcome to keep her as your ladies maid, if you wish. I am certain my grandmother’s abigail would be able to teach her any extra skills should she require it.”

  With that Miss Bennet grinned, and he allowed himself to hope for the first time since he had left Pemberley.

  “Would your grandmother be accepting of a union between us?” asked Miss Bennet.

  “My grandmother married my grandfather after the death of his first wife. It was a love match, unlike his first marriage, which was to the daughter of a baronet. Grandmamma has much more liberal views than my father or my aunt, who is the child of my grandfather’s first wife. She would not be pleased with my father and aunt forcing this betrothal on myself and Anne.”

  He paused for a moment before pointing to the book resting on the table beside her. “May I ask what you were reading when we came in?”

  “Oh, I was re-reading Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. My uncle admits to not having much of a library, but he does have a good selection of Shakespeare.”

  Mr. Philips chuckled and nodded his head. “She is partially correct. I have a large number of books on the law, but I fear I have failed in collecting much else.”

  “It is understandable,” he said, before returning to Miss Bennet. “You enjoy reading then?”

  “Very much. I mostly read poetry, dramas, and histories, but I do enjoy many different subjects.” She lifted an eyebrow as she smiled. “What think you of books?”

  He was amused by her arch manner. “I take great enjoyment in reading. My uncle kept a small library at Sagemore, and I have added to the titles since taking over as master. I hope to have quite a collection one day.”

  A chessboard on a table against the wall captured his attention. Standing, he made his way over to view a game that appeared abandoned.

  “My niece and I had to pause our game this morning, so I could tend to business. She is quite the formidable opponent.”

  He raised his eyebrows with a grin. “I shall look forward to challenging you, then.”

  “What do you say, Lizzy?” asked her uncle. “I will venture that your chances with Mr. Darcy seem more promising than a harrowing trip to Canada.” She bit her bottom lip as she held Darcy’s gaze.

  “We could be the solution to each other’s dilemmas.”

  “That will not necessarily bring about felicity in our relationship, sir. My parents spent much of their time apart, my father in his study, and my mother complaining of her nerves. I have never wished for the same.”

  “I could never imagine such a marriage,” he responded earnestly. “When they were not busy with estate or household matters, my parents spent much of their time together. And I find I am more comfortable with you than with most ladies of my acquaintance. I do not see spending time with you in the future as being a hardship.”

  She pinked as she muttered a soft “Thank you.”

  He enjoyed discomposing her, especially when she became flustered. Her soft blushes were very alluring. Perhaps this marriage would not be such a duty after all.

  With a sigh, she tilted her head to the side as she appraised him. “I still have issue with the fact that I have only just met you.”

  “As I have only just met you.”

  “I wish we had more time, Lizzy, but we do not. Your uncle will return this evening, and you need to be as far from Meryton as possible.”

  Her gaze returned to her uncle, so Darcy rose and stepped over to where she was seated, dropping down on his knee.

  “I promise to do my best to make you happy. I am by no means perfect.” He took her small hand and encased it between his own. “I will probably say or do the wrong thing quite often, but I promise to always treat you with respect.” Her gaze met his, and the determined look in her eye told him she had decided her fate.

  Chapter 3

  “I believe marriage to Mr. Darcy may be my best option,” Elizabeth said in as strong a voice as she could muster. Becoming betrothed to a complete stranger was in no small way disconcerting, to say the least, but she was determined to choose her destiny rather than have one forced upon her.

  Mr. Darcy smiled, yet there was something like regret in his eye. Could he be having second thoughts? “If you should change your mind, sir, I would hope you could tell me.”

  Her uncle gave a look of surprise as Mr. Darcy’s attention snapped back to her. “Elizabeth, do not be rude!”

  “I simply do not wish for him to have proposed on a whim, and then upon reflection, finds he does not wish for the connection.”

  His eyes sought hers, holding her gaze with sincerity. “I assure you. I have no such intentions.”

  “I apologise if I misread your expression. There seemed to be a sadness…”

  “I do not think either of us rejoice in the manner of our betrothal,” Mr. Darcy responded honestly, “but I do believe I am more likely to find happiness with you than with many of the women of my acquaintance.”

  She imagined those women must be rather insipid for Mr. Darcy to find them so unappealing. “What a glowing commendation!” she exclaimed as she chuckled.

  “Lizzy! You should learn to have more respect for your betrothed.”

  “Mr. Philips, I have no issue with Miss Bennet’s teasing. As I said earlier, I do believe it helps to relieve the seriousness of the discussion.”

  Shaking his head, Uncle Philips rose from the sofa, and relocated to the writing table in the corner. “Mr. Darcy, we should discuss the details of the settlement, so I can draw up the document.” Her betrothed rose and made his way over to sit alongside her uncle.

  “Lizzy, does Hattie read?”

  “Yes, Uncle. I taught her years ago.”

  He set to writing, occasionally asking questions of Mr. Darcy. She could not say it bothered her to be left alone for the moment since she took the occasion to study the stranger, her betrothed.

  He was certainly handsome: crystal blue eyes, dark brown curls atop his head, and tall—very tall. He was at least six feet and had the most impressive broad shoulders. He carried himself in a proud manner, and had been very serious in the short time of their acquaintance. In all probability, she might have found him disagreeable at first sight, had she not been introduced as they had. Who knew a gentleman of means and education could be uncomfortable—even shy—with strangers?

  She took a deep breath, attempting to settle the fluttering in her stomach. Goodness! She would turn into her mother if she continued with the nerves!

  The thoughts of her family caused her eyes to well with tears. For probably the millionth time, she wondered why they had all perished, leaving her so alone. Of course, her Aunt and Uncle Philips were dear to her, and they were welcoming, but it simply was not Longbourn. Perhaps marriage might allow her a place where she belonged. She hoped it to be true. The sensation of being a perpetual visitor was not to her liking at all.

  She also had the impression that her Uncle Phillips had been using his savings to prevent the scheme of her Uncle Gardiner’s. Shaking her head, she sighed. As it turned out, Uncle Gardiner was not much of an uncle, yet he had always been
so amiable when he visited Longbourn! Who knew he could be capable of such treachery?

  She could not have even imagined Jane’s reaction. Her dear sister had never wished to see fault in people, and this infraction would have been impossible for her to accept.

  “Lizzy?” Uncle Philips called, startling her from her thoughts.

  She turned to where he was now rising from the escritoire and suppressed a grin. He looked so peculiar seated at his aunt’s writing desk.

  “I believe your aunt had a long day of calls planned?”

  “Yes, uncle. She mentioned several ladies, but she also indicated a stop to see if Mr. Blake had any new fabric in stock.” The calls and shopping her aunt had planned would keep her occupied for a few hours, which was why Elizabeth had remained behind—to enjoy some peace and quiet.

  Her uncle nodded as he set down his quill. “I require materials that are in my office. I have penned a letter to Hattie, and I will send Lucy to deliver it. When I have finished the documents, I will return.” He rose and made his way to the door, turning back as he stepped across the threshold. “I believe it would be a good time for the two of you to become better acquainted. The door will remain open for propriety’s sake, so please keep in mind what topics you discuss.” He gave them a look she easily understood and strode from the room.

  “Is gossip a problem?” Mr. Darcy asked, as he took a seat on the other end of the sofa.

  “I have never heard of his servants gossiping, but my aunt quite enjoys tittle-tattle. She will return later with all of the chat from the neighbourhood.”

  “Ah, I see.” He was thoughtful for a moment before shifting in his seat. “Unless it pains you, I would enjoy hearing more about your family,” he began carefully. “Perhaps you could tell me with whom you had the closest relationship, and let things grow from there?”

  “I appreciate your consideration, Mr. Darcy. I do miss them immensely, but I have found speaking of them is becoming easier with time.” She clasped her hands together in her lap in attempt to disguise her nervousness. “I would have to say that I was closest with my sister Jane.”

  “Were the two of you similar in looks?”

  “No.” She smiled as she shook her head. “Jane and I were as different as chalk and cheese. We were similar in height, but she was fair-haired and had blue eyes. She was considered the beauty of the county, and was a favourite of my mother’s.” Her gaze, which had been on her hands in her lap, moved to his face where his look of understanding calmed her anxiety. “She was compassionate and very kind. I do not believe I ever heard a disagreeable word from her lips. There was never an ill thought for anyone. Jane believed everyone to be inherently good.”

  “She sounds a bit like a friend of mine,” he said in a pleased manner. “Bingley and I first met at Eton, but he is four years my junior. We did not become friends until years later when we happened upon one another in London. He always finds everyone and everything pleasing. I have rarely found him to be in any mood other than jovial and smiling.”

  “He seems a very agreeable friend.”

  He nodded as he leaned towards her a small fraction. “Your uncle indicated you were very close to your father.”

  His attempt to help her through the conversation was kind, and she smiled in appreciation of the gesture. “My father enjoyed his library above all other places. He was content to spend the entirety of his days in his beloved chair with no other occupation but reading. I was fortunate enough to be his favourite, and he taught me literature, mathematics, languages, chess…”

  “What languages do you speak?”

  “I speak French and some Italian. He attempted to teach me German, but I never took to it as I did the others.” She picked a piece of non-existent fluff from her dress. “My mother felt it was a fool’s errand, especially as I became older. She often interrupted our lessons to insist I occupy myself with needlework or practicing the pianoforte.”

  “She did not feel books were appropriate?”

  “Mama did not mind books,” she clarified, “rather, she deemed learning to run a home and lessons to be a good wife more important to our circumstances.” He appeared confused, so she continued. “My father’s estate was entailed, which is why our cousin, Mr. Collins, inherited. My mother found it vexing that she might one day be cast from her home. With only five thousand pounds, she worried over her ability to sustain five daughters should it be necessary and was adamant that we would wed as soon as a suitor presented himself.”

  “Your uncle scolded you for making sport of your mother earlier. How did your comments resemble her?”

  Her face became warm, and she looked away for a moment, embarrassed he remembered her insensitive remark. “I loved my mother, but I used to mimic her, especially to Jane, when my mother was being particularly trying. Jane would scold me, as well.”

  She paused as she relived the memory, her attention returning with a start when Mr. Darcy tilted his head to catch her eye. “My mother often complained of her nerves and the ‘flutterings all over her and the pains in her head’. Mama would call for our housekeeper, Hill, insisting she required her salts.” She expected to see censure, but instead, saw only compassion in his eyes.

  “My grandfather was known all over for a ‘harrumph’ sound that he often made when he was displeased or even trying to get someone’s attention. His friends would even make jokes about its volume and gruff tone.” The corner of his lips lifted slightly as he told the story; he was once again attempting to put her at ease. “To this day, one often hears a loud ‘harrumph’ at family gatherings. When I was last at my uncle’s for dinner, my uncle made the noise before announcing it was time to remove to the study for brandy and cigars. My grandmother has even been known to attempt the impersonation from time to time. The sound never fails to bring a smile to her face.”

  “Were they married long?” she asked.

  “They wed two years after the death of his first wife and were married for five and thirty years.”

  “I would imagine she misses him greatly.”

  “She has confessed that she does, yet she does not dwell on it, insisting that my grandfather never enjoyed her sour moods.” They both chuckled, and Mr. Darcy leaned back in the seat. “Where were we before I interrupted you?”

  “Your story was no interruption. I enjoyed it very much, thank you.”

  He nodded, laying his arm across the back of the furniture, his fingers not quite reaching her shoulder. His strong hand draped across the top of the sofa drew her eye. There were a few callouses, which surprised her. A gentleman of his means would not be expected to have laboured enough to cause such blemishes.

  Her gaze returned to his. “I believe we were at Mary.”

  “Was she older or younger?”

  “The eldest was Jane, followed by me, and then came Mary. Mary was two years younger, enjoyed reading sermons—particularly Fordyce—and playing the pianoforte. Kitty came after Mary by a year. She was rather impressionable and was often found with our youngest sister, Lydia. They had no care for reading unless it was a novel, and my father often said they were some of the silliest girls in England.”

  His attention never wavered from her, and she pivoted towards him to be more comfortable as they spoke. “You mentioned a sister. Georgiana, I believe? Is she very accomplished?” His face transformed into a brilliant smile, which conveyed just how dear his sister was to him.

  “She is indeed accomplished for a girl of thirteen. She studies the pianoforte quite diligently and plays and sings all day long.”

  “Is she much like you?” she asked. Perhaps she had the same eyes—marvellous, crystal blue eyes.

  “We are quite alike in colouring. We both have dark hair and blue eyes, but where I am rather stocky, she is quite tall and slender for her age.”

  “I think that a very reasonable difference for a sister to have.” Her voice was teasing, and he gave a chuckle, accentuating his handsome features.

  “She plays
and sings, but does she enjoy needlework or the outdoors?” She was taking great pleasure in introducing topics that made him smile, and by the time Mr. Phillips returned, they had discussed his sister at length. The conversation was moving on to horses, which Elizabeth was pleased to know a little about, when her uncle showed Hattie into the room.

  “Hattie!” She jumped from her seat and rushed across the room to take the young woman’s hands. “I do hope you are here to accompany me?”

  “I am,” affirmed Hattie. “But I must say that I am relieved to find you well again, Miss Elizabeth. The entire town was so distressed whilst you were ill.”

  She was in the process of thanking Hattie when Mr. Philips cleared his throat.

  “Lizzy, perhaps you and Hattie should pack your things whilst Mr. Darcy and I complete these documents.”

  She curtsied to Mr. Darcy as she excused herself and Hattie from the room.

  Elizabeth helped as Hattie made quick work of packing her belongings, retrieving her clothing from the wardrobe and dresser in the small room, while Hattie arranged everything neatly in her trunk.

  “Did my uncle explain?” she asked, as they worked.

  “He did. I also told ‘im that I ‘ave nothin’ keepin’ me ‘ere. If Mr. Darcy would allow it, I would be pleased to be your new maid.”

  “Then I believe the position is yours.”

  Hattie beamed. “Thank you, miss. Your uncle did surprise me with his note. I had’n heard you were to be married.”

  Remembering her uncle’s advice when he left her with Mr. Darcy, she stopped and caught Hattie’s eye. “It is a long story that I cannot explain at the moment.”

  “I probably should’n be askin’ anyhow.”

  She handed over the next dress, clasping Hattie’s hand when she did. “I am not upset about your curiosity, Hattie.”

  “I know, miss. Mr. Philips told me Mr. Darcy is more ‘n your father was, so I was needin’ to be more proper, nothing more.”

  Her uncle was probably correct, so she nodded. “I had not looked on it in that way.” Suddenly, the new society she would be a part of became clear, and she balked. How much would she have to change to belong?