by Leenie Brown
A cheer was raised around the room, followed by the clinking of glass against glass.
“I have enjoyed this day so much,” Mr. Bennet said when the room had once again stilled, “that I would not be opposed to doing it again.” He nodded to Richard before returning his attention to the room at large.
“I still have two daughters yet unattached,” he added, once again causing the room to laugh. “And Darcy has a sister, we must not forget Miss Darcy. It is, after all,” he said with a smile for his wife, “a truth universally acknowledged that young ladies such as Kitty, Mary, and Miss Darcy, who are in possession of great beauty and generally sweet spirits, must be in want of husbands.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped and clucked her tongue softly before tittering behind her wine goblet as the rest of the room also chuckled.
“I have one more duty to perform before I will allow you all to eat and be merry as is required on a day such as this. My youngest, along with the assistance of Miss Darcy, has prepared some music to start us off while we eat.”
“Did you know about this? Did Georgiana tell you?” Elizabeth whispered to Darcy.
“I did know about it, but it was not Georgie who told me.”
“It was not?”
Darcy shook his head.
“Miss Darcy, Lydia,” Mr. Bennet motioned to the piano which had been placed in the far corner. “We look forward to hearing what you have prepared, my dear,” he said to Lydia, “and we shall all pretend that it is only in honor of your sisters and not a certain colonel.”
“Papa!” Lydia chided, her cheeks growing red. “It can be for everyone.”
“Of course, my dear, of course,” he said as he took his seat.
“Your sister did not get to sing her song the night of the dinner party for Lady Matlock,” Darcy whispered.
“You mean she refused,” Elizabeth corrected.
“Because Richard was absent,” Darcy reminded her. “So, she asked me if I thought it would be a good idea to sing it here.”
“She did?” Elizabeth’s face was suffused with shock.
Darcy nodded. “Apparently, she values my opinion,” he teased, earning him a roll of Elizabeth’s fine eyes. “When I heard her reason for wishing to perform here today, I could not say no. It is an excellent song choice.”
“Is it? You know which song she was to sing at that dinner party? She has been very guarded about it.”
Darcy smiled. “I do know. Now, do you wish to know her reason?”
“Of course.”
“She wanted to make a very public declaration that Richard is and always will be good enough for her.”
“What is she singing?” Elizabeth’s eyes were wide.
Darcy shook his head. “That I will not tell you. You must listen to discover it, and as you do, know that I would say the same to you – which is precisely what I told your sister when we discussed this. She knows that she is not just singing for herself but also for me.” Miss Lydia had required a handkerchief after hearing him speak so about the sister who had been such a wonderful support to her ever since that night at Sally’s.
Of course, her declaration of delight over his attachment to her sister had come at the expense of hearing how shocked she still was that he was not so horrid as she had first thought he was. It was not so painful a thing to be reminded of his poor behavior now as it might have been at one time. However, it would be far better to be able to forget such a thing than to be reminded of it. He lifted Elizabeth’s hand to his lips as the first notes rang out from the piano.
“Lydia looks so calm,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Love has that sort of effect on one. It is truly astounding what one would not normally do for the world but will gladly do in a heartbeat for love.” He placed a kiss on the ear into which he had whispered.
Next to the piano, Lydia lifted her chin and smiled first at Elizabeth and Jane before turning her attention to Colonel Fitzwilliam as she began to sing.
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Live fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath, and her hand rose to cover her heart. Turning to Darcy, tears glistening in her eyes, she whispered, “It is so beautiful and perfect. So perfect.”
“Indeed, it is, for I love you, Mrs. Darcy, and I always will.” He was certain Elizabeth would have replied in kind if he had allowed it. However, he did not, for he could not refrain from kissing her as Lydia began the last verse.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
That the fervor and faith of a soul may be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear!
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turned when he rose![1]
Today, tomorrow, next year, and until time ceased to exist, Darcy would only love Elizabeth more than he did at this moment. And when he broke their kiss far sooner than he wished and as she laid her head on his shoulder, he knew that, by marrying Elizabeth, his greatest achievement in his life had both been reached and had only begun to be grasped.
* * *
Believe Me if All Those Endearing Young Charms, Thomas Moore ↵
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Turn the page to read an excerpt of another one of Leenie’s books
Persuading Miss Mary Excerpt
As I mentioned in the note at the beginning of this book, Loving Lydia was first posted as a work in progress on my website (leeniebrown.com) each Thursday. Persuading Miss Mary, the next book in this series, is posting there now. Below is the first chapter of that story.
Chapter 1
“What do you mean I am not allowed entrance?” Reginald Fitzwilliam, Viscount Westonbury, glared at Mr. Nibley.
“Just that, my lord. The countess has informed me that you are not allowed entrance without specific invitation.”
“But it is my home!”
“Not at present, my lord. Your residence is the house in Brook Street.”
“The house in Brook Street?” Wes huffed and looked at the sky above him before continuing. “I fully realize that my residence is in Brook Street. However, this is also my home, and I will not leave without seeing my mother.”
Matlock House’s butler paused for a moment as if considering whether or not he should disturb his mistress.
Wes waved toward the house. “My mother, if you will.”
“I shall see if she is home to callers.”
“I am not a caller! I am her son!”
“Yes, my lord.” The long-time servant of the Matlocks shifted uneasily. “I only do as I am told, my lord.”
Wes clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Am I allowed to wait inside while you check?”
Mr. Nibley gave a slight shake of his head. “I do apologize, my lord, but I have my orders.”
“Oh, for the love of –,” he stopped when Mr. Nibley coughed. “Yes, yes, I know. Mother cannot abide such language, and I promise to not resort to such as long as my mother sees me. If she wi
ll not, then I shall be forced to vent my spleen with whatever colourful language I choose and at whatever volume I wish to shout it.”
The butler gave a nod of his head and hurried into Matlock House to see if his mistress was willing to see her eldest son, who was left to mutter oaths under his breath on the step and wonder what bee had flown into his mother’s bonnet. She had not locked him out of the house in years!
The last time had been when a gentleman had shown up to collect a debt from Lord Matlock which had been incurred by his son, who should have been at school and not in some gambling hell. Being locked out of the house, coupled with the removal of his allowance until the sum had been repaid fully and half again, had worked well. Westonbury never set foot in a gambling hell again, and his bills were always paid before word of any outstanding sums reached the ears of his mother.
For most gentlemen, their fathers were to be feared, and Lord Matlock was no exception. However, Lady Matlock was a good bit more fearsome to her sons than their father for she was cunning in her punishments, which were always doled out as if they were the most natural things in the world. If one took a step off a cliff, then one must experience a fall. That was his mother’s philosophy. Therefore, if you stole a biscuit, you spent the day in the kitchen assisting the scullery maid, and so on.
She loved her sons fiercely. Too fiercely at times, if you asked Westonbury. He shook his head. Not only did she had a knack for bestowing clever punishments; she also had an uncanny ability to anticipate what he might do to escape a punishment or to find a bit of fun. She had been sitting below his window on more than one occasion at their estate when he was a young boy and he had been required to stay indoors for some indiscretion such as tormenting the stable cats.
The door opened interrupting Wes’s contemplation of his mother.
“My lady will see you in the green sitting room, and only in the green sitting room.”
Just as he suspected, she expected him to decide on where they would meet, which he had been considering. His mother was not fond of the small drawing room off of the library.
He handed his hat and walking stick to Mr. Nibley before removing his great coat.
“Am I allowed to direct myself to said room, or must I wait to be announced?”
The right corner of Mr. Nibley’s mouth tipped upward but only just. “Do you wish to be announced, my lord?”
Wes chuckled. “Indeed, I think I must be if I am merely a caller. Do you remember my name?”
“The name you use at every house, my lord?”
“No, the one which is precisely designed to annoy my mother.”
“I think I do.”
“Then, lead on my good man, and I shall not turn you out when I become master of Matlock House.”
“I am sure I will not even be alive when that happens, my lord.”
“I do hope that is not true. Not that I am wishing for my father’s demise, of course.”
“I did not think you were, my lord.” Mr. Nibley began leading Wes down the hall to the green sitting room. The only sitting room on the ground floor. The room which was designated for calls and not much else. The upper servant stepped into the room and said very loudly, “My lord, Reginald Arthur Fitzwilliam, Viscount Westonbury, the first-born and heir of the body of Lord Matlock, long may he live, to see Lady Matlock.”
“Nobley,” Lady Matlock scolded.
“I am only doing my duty, my lady,” the butler replied with a bow before ducking out of the room.
“If he were not put up to such a thing by you, I would see him reprimanded properly.”
“No, you would not. You like him too well,” Wes said as he took a chair near where his mother was perched on her favourite sofa with a dog next to her. “Is that not Darcy’s beast?”
“Beast? Dash is not a beast. Are you boy?” His mother scratched Dash’s ear. “He is here to keep your brother company while he recovers.”
“Then why is he here rather than with Richard?”
“Why are you here?”
Wes raised an eyebrow at his mother’s coy response. “Because this is the only room in which I was allowed.” He crossed his arms and leveled a disdainful look in Lady Matlock’s direction. “Would you care to explain to me what I have done that has resulted in my exile from my home?”
“You are banned from the house in Brook Street?”
“Mother.”
She chuckled and shrugged. “Impertinence is rather bothersome; is it not?”
“Yes, Mother. Now, if you would answer me seriously.”
“I have guests.”
“That is no reason for me to be stopped at the door to my home.”
She shrugged again. “It is if the father of my guests has expressed concern regarding you.”
Wes’s brow furrowed. Who was visiting his mother?
“And, since the arrival of my guests, I have heard a most disturbing story from one of them.”
“I still do not –”
“About you.”
“I beg your pardon? You have heard a disturbing story about me?”
“Yes.” She fluttered her lashes at him but said no more.
For a full minute, he only glared at her. It was a futile attempt to goad her into speaking, and he knew it. Yet still, he did it. “Oh, very well, what have I done?”
“I understand Miss Lydia and her sister met you in London.” She lifted her chin slightly. “Quite often the ladies at such places as where you met them have been tossed out of their homes.”
His waiting on the front step was beginning to make sense.
“Now, I know that there are gentlemen who frequent such places.” She watched her hand stroke Dash’s fur rather than look at him. A faint pink tinged her cheeks. “However, they are not where I would wish my son to –”
“Please, Mother. I understand your meaning.” He was likely as uncomfortable with this topic of conversation as she was. “However, I believe I am old enough to make my own decisions about such things.”
She sighed. “Of course, you are.” Her voice was just above a whisper and laced with disappointment. She lifted her eyes to him. “I only wished to make my point.”
“I shall consider what you have said.”
“Thank you.”
“Am I reinstated as someone who can visit without an invitation?”
She shook her head. “I fear not. As long as Miss Lydia and Miss Bennet are staying here, you must be a stranger.”
Wes blinked. “Miss Lydia and Miss Bennet are here?” Miss Mary Bennet was here at his parent’s home? Walking the halls he had walked all his life? Sleeping in one of their guest rooms?
“Yes, I thought it good to have an ally in seeing that Richard recovers as he should, and since Miss Kitty is visiting Georgiana, Miss Mary was sent to keep her sister company. However, there is not a lot of love lost between you and Miss Mary, so her father was concerned that being in a place where you could meet regularly might provoke her into besmirching the Bennet name. You know how it is. If someone should be calling and hear a young lady speaking plainly to a gentleman, the young lady will be the one taken to task.”
“I would not provoke her.”
His mother’s replying look told him that she did not believe such a thing was possible, and truth be told, it likely was not. Miss Mary did not treat him as anyone else did – save for his closest family members. To her, he was merely a gentleman – not a viscount or the future Earl of Matlock. And confound it all if it was not refreshing!
“Then, am I only allowed to call during proper hours and in only this room, or will I be allowed to visit my brother?”
His mother sighed. “Your father will say you are welcome to visit your brother and join us for dinner and all those such things. However, neither he nor I will tolerate any provocation of our guests.”
Wes nodded.
“I like her.”
Wes’s brow furrowed. “Miss Lydia?”
“Yes, her, but also her sister. Mis
s Mary is no wilting wallflower. I quite approve of that even if she does need some a little softening.”
Her head tilted to the side as she looked at him. So, this was what she was her true purpose. She saw Miss Mary as a project of sorts.
“Just be kind to her,” she added. “That is all I ask. Treat her as you would Georgiana.”
That was a little bit impossible. He had never had a dream about Georgiana being in his bed. However, he was not about to say such to his mother. Instead, he dutifully assured her that he would do his best to behave as she expected.
“And if you could stop frequenting that place – Sally’s, I believe it is called.”
“Mother.”
“I just think it would help you improve in the eyes of Miss Mary.”
“I said I would consider what you had said. I will not promise any further.”
She sighed. “I suppose I will have to be satisfied with that.”
“Yes, you will. Now, am I allowed to see my brother?”
Lady Matlock glanced at the clock before rising. “Yes, I do believe he will be rising and making his way to the library.”
“Rising? Do not tell me he is still taking a rest each afternoon.” He rose to follow her from the room, but Dash stepped between Wes and his mother.
“He most certainly is. But it is not my doing.” She smiled over her shoulder at him.
“Miss Lydia?”
She nodded. “As I said, I wanted to have an ally in seeing Richard recover.”
Wes laughed as he followed his mother and Dash up the stairs. “Have I complimented you lately on your deviousness?”
“No, I do not believe you have,” she replied with a chuckle. “There is a soiree that you must attend the day after next.”
“Mother.”
“You must marry some day, Reginald. The nursery has been empty for far too long.”
“You forget, my lady,” he said as he came to a stop on the landing next to her. “My residence is in Brook Street.”
She patted his cheek. “Only until you marry. Then, you are free to bring my daughter and your children here to be with me.”
