Miss Darcy's Beaux

by Eliza Shearer

  "I have asked Captain Price to escort you home. I hope you will not mind."

  I felt a wave of happiness invade me, and nodded.

  "Sleep well, Georgiana. We have much to discuss tomorrow."

  I was elated at the thought of having the Captain all to myself for a quarter of an hour, or William, as I may call him now. The name was noble and purposeful, gentle yet strong, and spending more time with its owner was my greatest wish. I smiled at my brother and swiftly boarded the barouche with my escort. My excitement was such that I did not consider the extent of my brother's words, nor the nature of the matter that had so abruptly required his attention.

  Chapter 20

  When I woke up on Sunday morning, I was still in a daze. The ride home with Captain Price was way too short, but it gave us the opportunity to repeat our promises of love, his hand gripping mine in the darkness of the carriage. In what seemed like mere moments we arrived at my aunt's Grosvenor Square residence, and I had to bid him goodbye.

  In the morning light, my remembrance of the night's events bore the haze of dreams, and the little voice in my head began to whisper that the Captain's words had been but empty promises of love, because no actual betrothal had taken place. Were the Captain’s affections real, added the voice, he would have attempted to kiss me instead of being content simply holding my hand. However, I remembered his fervent words of devotion and his respect for my virtue and squashed the doubts immediately. Captain Price was a man of honour, and he would be back for me, of that I was sure.

  After getting dressed, I went downstairs with a mix of happiness and apprehension rising in my stomach. I did not know how I was to face Fitzwilliam without admitting my affection for Captain Price and confessing his resolution to marry me. The breakfast room was empty, and I quickly noticed that in my usual seat, leaning against a cup, there was a letter addressed to me. I recognised the handwriting immediately; it was Elizabeth's. I opened it with haste and read:

  Dearest Georgiana,

  Your brother will have informed you of the matters relating to my health and the baby's, so I will address the object of my missive with no further delay.

  We have just received an extraordinary announcement from Grosvenor Square, a revelation that has come as a surprise to both your brother and myself. Its paramount importance and our concern for you are behind Darcy's visit and my letter. We must be certain that the course of action you are about to embark on is of your judicious choosing, and not a passing fancy or the result of undue influence deriving from other parties.

  Marriage is to last one's lifetime, and whether we endure it or enjoy it depends to a significant extent on our doing. I remember the confusing emotions that meeting your brother stirred inside of me. Perhaps you are as aware of your affections as he was at the time, in which case my words will make little sense to you, but if you feel the faintest uncertainty, please read on.

  Georgiana, I love you as much as my blood sisters, and I want you to be as fortunate in marriage as I am. I do not wish you the blandness that comes with tolerable companionship, but a union overfilled with devotion and joy. However, on some occasions, our luck is our own doing, and rather than stand still and hope for the best, sometimes we have to strive for it.

  I pray that you may find the fortitude to discern sisterly affection from the love between husband and wife. If what you desire is what the Colonel has intimated, then, by all means, marry him. You will have our blessings and best wishes for happiness in your future together. However, if you have the slightest hesitation, I urge you to reflect on your feelings and act accordingly.

  Although I am away from you, dear Georgiana, my thoughts are with you every moment, and I look forward to the day we will be reunited.

  Your dearest sister,

  Elizabeth

  PS We cannot change our past, but we may learn from it and use its lessons to guide us in our quest for happiness.

  I sat down, clutching the letter in my hand. The maid came, and I sent her away for some tea, although I had quite lost my appetite. I needed some time to reflect on Elizabeth’s words on marriage, love and happiness.

  In my eyes, the content of Elizabeth’s letter highlighted the superiority of Captain Price, not just regarding the purity of his love for me, but also in the motives behind his affection. The Captain, I reflected, loved me for who I was. Had he not said that he had wished me poor? And ours was most definitely not a passing fancy, unlike Don Cosimo had been for me. I blushed at the recollection. The prince could never offer devotion and joy to a woman, but Captain Price was capable of that and much more.

  My sister’s letter also managed to convey in words the feelings I had for Colonel Fitzwilliam. Barring his bizarre behaviour of late, ours had always been a sincere and affectionate relationship. I had always respected him as a guardian and listened to his advice as a friend, but I could never see him as a romantic match. The reasons that were driving him to wish our marriage were unknown to me, although I suspected they were somehow related to my Rosings inheritance. At all events, his actions risked harming the confidence I had in him without achieving their purpose. My love for the Colonel was resolutely of the sort one may reserve for a favourite uncle, and could never be more.

  I re-read the letter again, and this second time I was struck by the last line. Without mentioning him, I realised Elizabeth referred to Wickham, and I wondered what she thought of him. Wickham and Elizabeth had been acquainted for some time prior to her marriage to Fitzwilliam. Their ages were similar, and, although disparate in their character, they had similarly pleasant dispositions. What if there had been some sort of romantic attraction between the two? It would have been around the time Wickham was in the process of convincing me to elope with him. The prospect was too dreadful to contemplate.

  The letter had unsettled me. I had the urge to speak to my brother, and I found him in the study. He welcomed me warmly and invited me to sit down. Still holding Elizabeth's letter in my hand, I looked at Fitzwilliam and noticed the blue circles under his eyes. How thoughtless of me. I had completely forgotten about his nighttime escapade.

  "You look tired, Brother, but happy. I trust that the matter that came under your urgent consideration last night has been satisfactorily resolved.”

  Fitzwilliam nodded thoughtfully.

  “Indeed, that’s the case, I am happy to report. There is no closure as such, but all seems to be going in a more positive direction than I could have envisaged, and danger has been averted."

  "Danger? What danger?"

  He looked at me pointedly.

  "I do not wish to alarm you, Georgiana, but had the events been different, the Darcy family name would have probably been tarnished by circumstances alien to us. I have to thank friends known and unknown for helping me prevent opprobrium for our kin."

  So his sudden escapade had to do with Wickham. It had to be. I thought of my anonymous letter and wondered if it had contributed to his awareness of the matter. I was aching to ask him what had happened, but my delicacy had prevented me from mentioning Wickham's name to my brother for years. Then, my gaze fell on a beautiful bouquet of roses above the mantelpiece. The scent that had so cloyed my senses the previous night overcame me, and with it, the realisation that my coyness was ridiculous. I was not a girl but a woman in love, and the past no longer had the power to haunt me.

  "Brother, I need to know. Does that mean that Wickham did not kill his opponent?" I asked in a steady voice.

  Fitzwilliam arched his eyebrows, but he quickly regained his composure.

  "He did not. Captain Wentworth and Captain Price accompanied me to Primrose Hill, and the Italian prince was there, his silver pistols at the ready, but Wickham did not come. His friend Colonel Slater sent word that he was unwell. In fact, he is very sick, Georgiana. Years and years of licentiousness and dissolute living are catching up with him. I am sorry to inform you that he probably won’t live long."

  He wavered for a few instants, as if bracing himsel
f for my tears, but I just smiled faintly. At first light on Primrose Hill, no blood had been shed for a silly woman and no news mentioning the Darcy name would appear in afternoon papers, which was all I wished for. Wickham’s illness was secondary and came as no surprise; I had seen his decline for myself during my encounter with him in the concert hall. Wickham had wronged me, but I didn’t see his fate as a deserved comeuppance. All I felt was a dull pity for a remorseless fool who had brought all evils upon himself with his debauched behaviour. I had nothing more to add on the matter.

  On the other hand, the pink roses on the mantelpiece, silent but insistent, kept reminding me of what I had come to see my brother for. I took a deep breath and looked into the eyes of my brother.

  "I have read Elizabeth's letter,” I said in a steady voice. “Is it your belief that I intend to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

  "That is what we have been told. Is that not what you wish?"

  I shook my head slowly.

  "I love him, but I could never marry him."

  Fitzwilliam assented, a sympathetic look on his face.

  "He will be disappointed, Georgiana. Lady Catherine, too. They believed you reciprocated his feelings and thought the arrangement most convenient for the family."

  "Dear Brother, in Lady Catherine's opinion such a match would be the best option for all parties, and I do not doubt her good intentions. However, although Colonel Fitzwilliam has a deep affection for me, like mine for him, it is not the same kind of love that a man should feel for his wife."

  Fitzwilliam nodded.

  "Georgiana, as your brother and tutor it is my responsibility to guide you through life," he added with a gentle voice. "As you well know, I promised our father on his deathbed that I would do my best to ensure your happiness. However, you must allow me to fulfil my vow by confiding in me."

  In spite of his evident discomfort, my brother was insisting, solely for my sake. His eyes were sincere. I could not, I would not lie to him. Not again.

  "You are right, Brother. I must admit that my feelings are engaged. I cannot say anymore for the moment, but please believe me when I say that nothing untoward has happened or will happen, and that you will be asked to give your assent in due course, after certain events have come to a resolution."

  "Are those events by any chance due to take place in Portsmouth?"

  Fitzwilliam must have seen the look of surprise on my face because he gave me one of his rare unguarded smiles.

  "I should perhaps inform you that the gentleman in question has already made me aware of the situation, and, in view of his vehemence and the trust he commands in people I highly respect, I have given him my permission to pursue his object."

  So he knew. He had spoken to Captain Price, and there were no dark secrets to hide from anyone anymore. I felt a wave of relief take over my whole body. Fitzwilliam came towards me, and put his hand on my arm.

  "He's a good man, Georgiana, and I know you will be very happy. Now I must speak to Lady Catherine and tell her about your decision not to marry the Colonel. I suggest we keep any other news for now, until a formal announcement can be made next week."

  Overcome by happiness, I whispered a thank you and saw him make towards my aunt's apartments upstairs.

  Lady Catherine called for me shortly afterwards, and with a heavy heart, I went into her room. As always, she got straight to the point.

  "What is this your brother is saying? Are you refusing your cousin? How can this be?"

  "I do not think we are suited," I said with the most decisive tone I could muster. "We would not be happy."

  "Nonsense! The Colonel is a perfect gentleman. I am sure you would reach an acceptable agreement. You have known him all your life, and are perfectly aware of his nature. Furthermore, what does happiness have to do with marriage?"

  "Both my brother and his wife believe that it is essential."

  "So because they fell in love everyone should be foolish enough to do the same? Look at your brother, one of the most eligible bachelors in England for years, the wealthy master of Pemberley with the looks and breeding of a prince. I would not have been surprised if he had escaped his destined union with Anne by marrying a baronet's daughter, a viscount's even. However, he squandered his standing and fortune in the world by marrying a social inferior for love."

  She said the last word with disgust. I blushed. To have such little regard for everything that Elizabeth had brought to the family and to dismiss my brother's happiness as if he had acted on a schoolboy's whim! But there was no stopping her.

  "I entreat you not to make the same mistake as Darcy. Do what anyone with common sense would and make a match with the Colonel. You are both related, and the families are known to each other. He has no fortune, but you have enough for the two of you. You shall be the Rosings heiress, he the youngest son of an Earl. There may even be a path to a title for you."

  Her conjecture required two innocent little boys, her own grand-nephews, to die. Indignation began to burn inside of me.

  "Of course, the Colonel is not a handsome man, but then again you are no beauty," Lady Catherine continued. "You would make a perfectly suited couple."

  I couldn't help myself.

  "Dear Aunt, I am well aware of my deficiencies, and that no matter how much I try to cultivate my talents and demeanour to appear more agreeable to you, my essential lack of outstanding physical beauty shall always act as a deterrent to your affection and respect. But pray, understand that there is no need to mention it every time we speak."

  Lady Catherine was genuinely taken aback by my request, and for once did not open her mouth.

  “I have already made it quite clear that I will not marry the Colonel. I have my brother’s backing, so please do not insist. Now, if you allow me, he is waiting for me downstairs."

  I resolutely turned around and left the room, and as I closed the heavy door behind me, I allowed myself a triumphant smile. It perhaps looked like a trifle to others, but to me, that conversation with Lady Catherine was the most important battle I had ever fought and won.

  The Colonel returned from Brighton late that night. I had already retired to my bedchamber, but I heard the door in the main entrance open and recognised his voice. I pictured his surprise and delight at seeing my brother, their cold supper in the study with a glass of whisky, as was their habit whenever the Colonel visited Pemberley, and I tried to imagine their conversation, but failed. The topic was delicate, and the stakes higher than they had ever been between the two cousins. Perhaps there was disappointment, possibly even a marked disagreement, but I never found out the particulars of their discussion. The only fact that Elizabeth let out in due course was that the Colonel confessed to having acquired substantial gambling debts since his return from Waterloo. His creditors had begun to hound him with letters, which had driven him to gambling more, and upon losing, to asking for more loans, in a vicious circle from which he saw no escape. In a desperate turn, he had decided that marrying me and becoming the master of Rosings Park, which had always been his secret aspiration, was the only way he could afford to honourably pay his dues. His anxiety over the matter and the need to secure Lady Catherine’s support had driven him to tell her about my sad affair with Wickham, of which he was deeply ashamed. He was, he said, determined to mend his ways and regain my confidence.

  The following morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam was perfectly civil towards me, but his whiskers never again lingered on my hands as they had during the strange days before my brother's arrival, and he saved us both awkwardness and uncomfortable silences by leaving the following morning on a visit to his brother.

  Lady Catherine locked herself in her chambers, and the servants were ordered to initiate the complex arrangements to close down Grosvenor Square for the remainder of the season that same morning. They covered the furniture with dusting sheets, shut the window panes against the inclement weather and the fading effect of the sun, packed all the trunks and carried them downstairs to be loaded on to the co
aches due for Rosings and Pemberley, respectively.

  While Jones took care of the packing, I fretted over Captain Price's return from Portsmouth. The hours of the day were slipping slowly, and I killed time walking in the gardens and talking to my brother, who was also visibly eager to get back home to his family. The fact that he had left them at such a time for my sake forever eroded any doubts that I might have on his affection for me. I also paid a short visit to the Wentworths, who were equally engaged with leaving preparations. Mrs Wentworth made me promise that we would write to each other and arrange to meet again in the future, and I was delighted to acquiesce.

  Tuesday arrived, and with it, Captain Price. I was in the Grosvenor Square gardens when I saw him approach on his horse, his head held high, his countenance as determined as I had ever seen it. I rushed to the door, and caught him right before he went in. I was breathless, but before I could even regain my composure he smiled at me broadly, took my hand, ungloved it and brought it to his lips. I felt his kiss for the first time, soft and tender, and it sent shivers down my spine.

  "It is done," he whispered in my ear. "I am a rich man, Georgiana. I must see your brother at once."

  He was in the study with Fitzwilliam for less than ten minutes. When both men came out, they were in good spirits, and met me with alacrity, Captain Price to kiss my hand again and claim me as his beloved for the world to see, and my brother to congratulate me. The Captain appeared to be the happiest man alive, Fitzwilliam had the look of a man who knows he has done his duty, and I was certain to be blessed with good fortune in a way I had never dared imagine.

  Epilogue

  My brother was eager to get back to Pemberley as soon as it was practically possible, and we settled for Thursday at dawn. I still had not spoken to Lady Catherine since our spat, and although I tried, I never saw her again before leaving London. The servants, loyal to their mistress, were polite but firm, and insisted that she had given specific instructions that she should not be disturbed by me at any time. My brother, after a private conference with Dewar, managed to be received by our aunt, but it cannot have been a happy interview, for Fitzwilliam never mentioned its contents to me. I am ashamed to admit that my biggest regret was that I did not have the chance to say farewell to Lady Catherine's little black dog, which had stolen my heart.