An Unwavering Trust

by L. L. Diamond

  She smiled widely. “No party is fun unless seasoned with folly.1 ”

  “Erasmus?” asked Uncle Henry.

  “I believe so, sir. My father read many of his works, but he particularly enjoyed studying characters and the follies of others. He used that quote often.”

  “Was your father a learned gentleman?” chimed in Aunt Elinor.

  “He attended Cambridge but preferred to remain in his study with a good book rather than most activities.”

  Uncle Henry chuckled. “I believe I would enjoy that occupation as well, if Elinor would allow it.” After a loving glance directed at his wife, his insistent gaze returned to Elizabeth. “May I ask what became of your family’s estate?”

  She blinked at the stinging of her eyes and cleared her throat. “Mr. Isaac Collins, a distant cousin of my father’s was next in line to inherit. From what I understand, he appeared at Longbourn two weeks after the accident.”

  With a furrowed brow, Aunt Elinor tilted her head. “From what you understand, dear?”

  “I was gravely injured in the wreckage and was still unaware of the happenings around me. I was not even at Longbourn when he took possession.” Elizabeth fiddled with her skirt and shifted in her seat.

  Uncle Henry repositioned himself in his chair. “Why were you not at your home?”

  “The location where I was injured was closer Lucas Lodge, home of Sir William Lucas. He has been a great friend to our family for years, and his daughter Charlotte and I have always been close. He graciously opened his home to me, and anyone I required, during my illness.”

  “That was very kind,” commented the dowager.

  “Yes, Sir William is thought very well of in Meryton.”

  Their conversation ceased at the sound of the front door and Hobbes, the butler, entering the room. “Pardon me, ma’am, but Mr. Darcy has arrived. He wished me to convey his apologies for his late return. He will be down as soon as he is appropriately attired.”

  “Thank you, Hobbes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He delivered a curt bow and exited the room.

  The announcement did not completely quell the slight tremor of her hands, but it did much to diminish its presence. The dowager was friendly and no one had been unpleasant or rude, but another familiar face at the dinner table would be a welcome sight.

  “Miss Bennet, may I ask what you know of your uncle here in London?” asked Uncle Henry.

  Startling, she turned to look him in the eye. “Pardon me for not saying so earlier, but please call me Lizzy or Elizabeth. You have been gracious enough to allow me the privilege of addressing you informally. You should have the same.”

  She adjusted her shawl as Uncle Henry nodded. “I am uncertain of what information you would like to know. His name is Edward Gardiner. He once owned a home on Gracechurch Street, but I would imagine he has sold it to pay his debts by now.”

  Uncle Henry listened without interruption and leaned forward in his seat, propping his elbows on his knees so he could look her in the eye. “To be honest, I was considering hiring someone to locate him and discover his movements. It would be beneficial to ascertain whether he is searching for you or attempting to access your money.”

  “I am afraid I do not know where he is living at present or what establishments he may frequent.”

  “What you have given me is a start,” he responded. “I will ask Darcy if he may know more.”

  “He was not always like this.” Aunt Elinor and the dowager both appeared intrigued, so she continued. “At one time, he was a wonderful uncle. He brought us trinkets and treats from town, and each of us girls were given a length of fine fabric for a gown each Christmas. Uncle Gardiner, Papa, and I would have our own chess competitions.”

  A tear fell dampening her cheek, and her trembling hand wiped it away. “He was even betrothed. It has been over two years ago, now. Miss Margaret was a lovely lady. She and her father once travelled to Longbourn with my uncle to meet all of us.” She paused in an attempt to compose herself, but she had finish the tale. They had to understand.

  “If you will remember, there was an outbreak of typhus two years ago. Miss Margaret became ill and never recovered. My uncle was devastated and has been different ever since. I just had not realised how much he had been altered until recent events brought his nature to light.”

  She wiped another tear from her face as the dowager placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Your family has endured a great deal of loss in such a short time. I find it admirable you have not closed your heart to protect yourself.”

  “I do not believe I could do that, and my family would not wish it for me. I love and miss them dreadfully, yet I have always tried to think of the past as its remembrance gives me pleasure. I attempt to retain the precious memories of them and not how they left this earth.”

  The dowager squeezed her hand as Mr. Darcy entered, straightening his topcoat as he strode through the door.

  “I apologise for my tardiness, Grandmamma.”

  Uncle Henry stood and strode forward to shake his hand. “Darcy! I have been making the acquaintance of your betrothed in your absence. We must have the two of you to dinner later this week.”

  “That would be agreeable,” he replied, adjusting his cuffs. He glanced over at Elizabeth and cocked his head a little to one side, studying her expression. “I hope you are well this evening, Miss Bennet.”

  She nodded and stood as her red-rimmed eyes met his. “I am, thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

  His grandmother stepped beside her and took her hand. “Lizzy was just satisfying your uncle’s curiosity regarding her family.”

  His uncle raised a hand. “I simply wish to investigate Gardiner. I am concerned he will not disappear from Miss Bennet’s life, and instead, will make a nuisance of himself.”

  “Powell recommended a man who I met with this afternoon.” Elizabeth tensed, and he would not countenance upsetting her more. “Although, perhaps we should discuss it after dinner.”

  Uncle Henry cast a look over at Elizabeth as well, and nodded. “From what Hobbes has told me, you departed early this morning and have been out all day.”

  As everyone resumed their seats, he found one of his own. “I had a great deal of business to accomplish. I applied for a license with the bishop at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Then I dropped in on Mr. Blair at St. George’s. He was happy to schedule the ceremony for Friday, a week from today at ten.”

  “It is fortunate you attend St. George’s whilst in town,” commented his grandmother. “Mr. Blair knows you well.”

  He leaned over to take his grandmother’s hand. “I could not let you attend church on your own, Grandmamma. It would not be proper for a young lady such as yourself.” He smiled, and so did she. She always pinked a bit in the cheeks when he teased her in such a manner, and this time was no different.

  “You can be quite the flatterer when you wish, Fitzwilliam.”

  He caught Elizabeth’s warm smile directed at him, and with a lift to the corner of his lips, his attention returned to his uncle. “The bishop’s office indicated the license should be ready Wednesday or Thursday.”

  “And only a few days before you are supposed to present yourself at Rosings,” interjected his grandmother. He nodded just as the door opened to Mrs. Henderson announcing dinner.

  His uncle escorted his grandmother and his Aunt Elinor while he took up the rear with Miss Bennet. Her small hand took his arm, and every bit of the contact was discernible through his layers of clothing. What was it about this woman that made him so attuned to her every move and emotion? He was drawn to her in a way that was unfamiliar, and to him, disconcerting.

  The meal did not help his disquiet. His eyes continually found Miss Bennet, and he discovered himself staring in her direction more often than naught. As everyone rose at the end of the meal, the ladies to the withdrawing room and the men to the study, he hoped his distraction had not been apparent to everyone.

  His uncle closed the door b
ehind him while he poured them both a snifter of brandy. “Darcy, I still have my reservations about your betrothed, but she is a lovely woman.”

  He handed his uncle a glass and took a sip of his own. “Thank you, Uncle.”

  “You mentioned that you went to see Powell today. Did he review the document you signed with her uncle?”

  His uncle meant well, but he did bristle a bit at the question. It was too much like his father for his liking. “I did. He saw nothing to cause concern, and we made arrangements to modify my will and carry out the terms of the contract.” Uncle Henry nodded as he ran his finger absent-mindedly around the glass. “He will also move Miss Bennet’s money to a new account that will contain the remainder of her settlement.”

  “I am impressed, Darcy, and thankful you ceased using Graham and Smallshaw last year.”

  He ran his hand across the back of his collar. “I am, as well. Mr. Graham is very loyal to my father. I would not be easy with him handling my personal affairs at present.”

  “Will you run an engagement announcement?”

  He shook his head. “I considered having one printed so close to the wedding that my father would not see it beforehand, but I think I will simply print the marriage announcement. We will then take a wedding trip to Bath.

  “Lizzy appears to be very friendly,” Uncle Henry commented, before taking a sip of his drink. “She also seems a bit wary, but one cannot fault her for that with all of the changes in the last four and twenty hours. You will be marrying her in a week. I would think you would want to break down some of those barriers by becoming on more familiar terms.”

  His eyebrows shot up as though they would reach his hairline. “Exactly what do you mean by ‘more familiar terms’?”

  Uncle Henry chuckled. “Relax, son. I noticed the two of you are still referring to one another as Miss Bennet and Mr. Darcy whilst we address her as Lizzy, and she addresses us as informally.”

  “I see things in a different light, I suppose. She is amongst strangers, betrothed to a stranger. I do not wish her to be pressured into an intimacy that she does not feel.”

  “If you are alluding to as much as I believe, I must stop you there. You must consummate this marriage, Darcy.”

  He glanced up to find his uncle leaning forward, an imploring expression upon his face.

  “Eventually, when we are both more comfortable…”

  “No, not eventually,” Uncle Henry interrupted. “It may be awkward but you must. There can be no hint that your marriage is not legitimate, or Catherine and your father will pounce. They may not be able to accomplish much with the information, but they would make an attempt.”

  He squirmed in his seat and averted his eyes back to his glass. How awkward a subject! He had no wish to discuss this with anyone, much less his uncle. “I could never force…”

  “I never said anything about forcing your will.”

  Shocked, his gaze met his uncle’s.

  “I believe she will be rather practical about the situation. You cannot forget she faces the same possible issue with her relations.” His uncle grasped his forearm. “You should spend as much time with her this week as you can. The more familiar you are with each other the less distressing the entire event will be.”

  “I understand your argument, but please give me some time to think on it. There has to be some way I can give her time to become accustomed to all the changes in her life.”

  “You will have a great many changes as well.”

  He was doubtful. All he could see was Elizabeth’s sacrifices and her point of view.

  “I never said it would be as many as she has—especially with her family’s passing—but becoming a husband is acquiring a new way of life. You will need to consider her and her wishes when you make certain decisions, then there will be children. Your life will not be the same either.”

  His stomach churned, and he set down his brandy. He would have to marry, regardless of who the woman was, but his uncle was correct: he had not considered how much would be different. Uncle Henry’s laughter brought him out of his panic as he glanced up to find him placing his hands on his shoulders.

  “Take a deep breath, son. You are turning green. You know I like Anne, but she is not the young lady for you. The two of you are both rather quiet people, whilst Lizzy appears more gregarious and cheerful. I believe you need that.”

  Darcy gulped hard. “I made arrangements to wed her today; however, I cannot but think how I am to marry a stranger in a week.”

  Uncle Henry chuckled some more. “You will not be the first or last person who marries a stranger. I daresay you will live.” He stood and patted the younger man on the back. “With that said, I think we should join the ladies. One of the advantages of a wife is having a lady to spend time with after dinner.”

  Shaking his head, he stood and followed his uncle. When they reached the hall, the harmonious notes of the pianoforte were coming from the music room, so they followed the sound. His uncle entered straightaway, but Darcy paused in the doorway, enchanted by the sight of Elizabeth Bennet sitting at the pianoforte singing.

  Elizabeth stretched as she yawned, still not accustomed to waking in such a luxurious bed. Rolling to her back, she turned to face the sun streaming between the drapes and sighed. What had happened when the men arrived in the music room?

  By the end of dinner, the Fitzwilliams were all friendly acquaintances. Aunt Elinor and the dowager had conversed about music and novels, which were two subjects Elizabeth could discuss without much effort. Before long, Aunt Elinor persuaded her to play and sing. The lady must have wished to assess her skill, so she tried her best; even though, her performance had to be lacking.

  Mr. Darcy had become the enigma. He had not spoken much during dinner or after his arrival to the music room, yet he stared at her so—and for the entire evening! She had no idea what to make of it!

  She lifted herself to sit against the headboard, and Hattie entered a moment later, setting a tea service on the table and pouring a cup.

  “Good morning, miss,” she said, handing the drink to Elizabeth. “Her ladyship’s maid said you would be goin’ to Lady Matlock’s today. I wasn’ sure what gown to press, but Lady Matlock, herself, sent one over this mornin’.” She hurried back into the dressing room, returning with a pale peach ensemble very similar to something she would have selected. “I daresay the colour will be very becomin’ on you.”

  “She mentioned sending over one of her daughter’s gowns.” She placed her teacup on the dressing table, reached for the skirt, and traced her fingers down the folds. “I suppose we should see how it fits. I do not want to be late because of alterations.”

  “Yes, miss.” Hattie hastened to retrieve the necessary undergarments, and returned promptly to help her mistress don the gown.

  As it turned out, the bodice only required a few small tucks, which were accomplished while Elizabeth finished her tea, and she was soon headed downstairs to the dining room.

  “Lizzy,” greeted the dowager, as she entered the room. “You do look lovely this morning.”

  Mr. Darcy stared with an unusual, surprised expression upon his face. “You are not wearing mourning attire?”

  “As you see, Mr. Darcy. I did not wear my grey gown yesterday to the shops either. I only wore it within the house.” She held his questioning gaze. “I did heed your counsel, sir.”

  “Thank you,” he responded softly. “I may be being overly cautious, but…”

  “I understand your concern. Please do not think I ever took it lightly.”

  With a nod, the discussion was over, and she turned to find the dowager regarding them with interest. She wore a slight smile, prompting an eyebrow to be raised in her direction. The older woman shook her head and continued to eat as Elizabeth placed some toast on her plate.

  Mr. Darcy was just as much as a mystery now as he had been the previous evening. He held the paper before him, but she had caught him staring at her several times over the to
p corner. His reaction was to return his attention to the paper as if he had only looked up to catch a glimpse while she spoke with his grandmother.

  The dowager placed her napkin beside her plate. “Do you have plans for the day, Fitzwilliam?”

  He startled and folded the corner of his paper down. “Uncle and I are meeting at the club. After we discuss whatever he has planned, I believe I will pay a visit to Bingley.”

  His grandmother bit her lip. “I should probably tell you that yesterday I may have hinted to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst that you were preparing for your betrothal.”

  Hinted? Elizabeth stifled a snort. Her statement to Miss Bingley had been exactly that—a statement, not a hint. She almost reminded her of her little sister Lydia confessing to something she had done, but for which she was not really sorry.

  His hands did not release the paper as they dropped like a rock to the table and he groaned. “Grandmamma! Please say you did not do that!”

  The woman did not look the least bit remorseful, a smirk adorning her face. “I could not resist. She has always been so smug as if she were certain to be the next mistress of Pemberley.”

  “Yes, well, what she has thought and what exists in the world are not the same. I have never had any intention of offering for her. That is one woman my mother would be appalled to have replace her.”

  “That she would,” the lady agreed with a sharp nod. “If you and your uncle finish your business at the club, you should join us at Matlock house. Lizzy is going to receive callers with us.”

  She forced smile as he turned to her, perusing her as if in study. Did he not want her receiving calls?

  “I suppose I will be thrust upon the Ton unless you do not wish it.”

  The servant removed the plate from in front of the dowager, and she shifted forward, her expression very serious. “Lizzy, Catherine will spew venom upon your reputation and intelligence when she learns of your marriage to Fitzwilliam. It is important that you are at least introduced to a few select people first. I also intend to take you with me on calls early next week. Some of these women are notorious gossips and will be thrilled to have first-hand knowledge of your character.