In the Way of Other Rich Men

by Lori Light

  Table of Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  In the Way of Other Rich Men

  A Pride and Prejudice "What if..." Novella

  By Lori Light

  Copyright © 2018 Lori Light

  All rights reserved

  Chapter 1

  Darcy left the parsonage after only a few minutes. Miss Elizabeth was expected to return from her walk at any moment and his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, determined to wait there for her return. As much as Darcy wished to be in the lady’s presence once more, he feared that event even more. So, soon after he had taken leave from Mrs. Collins and her sister, he made a stiff bow and quickly made his way out the front door and through the gate, slowing only after he had reached the end of the lane and had assured himself that Elizabeth was not in the vicinity. Woodenly, he walked down the path leading to Rosings. How he had imagined walking this way with Elizabeth on his arm, her laughter ringing out as they made plans for their future! Yet, that future together would never be. She had rejected him! Most assuredly. Most adamantly. He was…what were those words? “The last man in the world she could ever be prevailed upon to marry.” Darcy winced. Closing his eyes, he willed away tears. His immediate outrage at her rejection was easier to bear than this ongoing, stinging disappointment.

  What if she had returned while he was at the parsonage? How would she have behaved and what would she have said? Would she have made a scene, continuing her venomous attack? Or would she have changed her mind? Would the letter he had given her this morning have made her understand how wrong she had been about his character? Did she realize her mistake in refusing him? Did she believe his account of his dealings with Wickham? Did she realize that viper’s deceit, or had the cad completely pulled the wool over her eyes with his false charm and handsome features? “Oh, dear God, no,” Darcy pleaded as a new thought struck him -- Was Elizabeth in love with the scoundrel?!

  Darcy schooled his features to mask his distress as much as possible as he re-entered Rosings, the home of his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. His goodbyes to that great lady were completed in record time. Lady Catherine had been as demanding as ever, but before she could proceed too far into her usual tirade, Darcy excused himself to take leave of his cousin, Anne.

  Always seeking ways to promote a match between her nephew and her daughter, Lady Catherine dismissed him immediately. “By all means, Darcy -- I know that you two have much to discuss. I will not delay you.” She tilted her cheek toward Darcy, who dutifully indulged his aunt with a quick kiss before hurrying out of the room to find his cousin.

  Darcy knew where to find Anne. When there was no company to entertain, Anne de Bourgh spent much time in a small parlor adjacent to her bed chambers. There he found the frail young woman reclined on a chaise, a book in hand, while her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, sat in a nearby armchair, working on her latest embroidery project. Soon after Darcy entered, Mrs. Jenkinson excused herself, reportedly to retrieve a different colored thread, giving the cousins a few minutes alone.

  “What is it, cousin? Why do you look so glum?” she asked.

  When in company, Anne always seemed to be disengaged, but Darcy knew that she was --had always been-- exceptionally perceptive. “Glum?” he asked with a sad smile. “And I thought this was my pleasant expression.”

  Anne smiled and reached for her cousin’s hand. “You never have been able to fool me, Darcy. What is bothering you?” When Darcy failed to answer her right away, she continued. “Does it involve Miss Elizabeth?”

  “Why do you attribute my mood to Miss Elizabeth?” he asked, turning from his cousin and fixing his gaze out the window.

  “She is a fascinating woman, and you are clearly enamored with her. Why do you not let her know how you feel?”

  Darcy shot an incredulous look at his cousin. Had his feelings been so obvious? They certainly had not been obvious to the object of his admiration! She had appeared surprised – nay, shocked – at his declaration. How, then, could his cousin have known? Darcy shrugged slightly and turned back to the window. “She does not return my affections,” he said quietly.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. She thinks I am arrogant and selfish, and she had no qualms about telling me so.” And that is only the beginning, he thought to himself. Darcy could not bear to think of the other accusations she had laid against him, and he certainly did not feel like sharing them with anyone else.

  “I am sorry, Darcy,” Anne said sadly.

  “And what about you, Anne?” Darcy asked as he turned once again toward his cousin. “How are you faring? You know that Aunt Catherine will never give up the notion of our marrying. How do you endure her constant demands on that subject?”

  “I’ve told mother again and again that I have no desire to marry. I do not have the strength to even travel to Pemberley. How can she think that I would be able to serve as its mistress? Nonetheless, she will never give in until you are married. In the meantime, I find that the less said on the matter, the better. But about Miss Elizabeth – She does not know you, Darcy. You have not even given her the chance.”

  “What do you mean, Anne? We have been in each other’s company numerous times over a period of a several months.”

  “Darcy, I have known you your whole life and even I have not seen the real you in a very long time. The real Darcy is somewhere hidden behind that serious mien you present to the world.”

  “And what is wrong with a serious demeanor?” Darcy asked gruffly. “Would I be more appealing with a silly grin?”

  “It’s more than just serious, Darcy – It is stern! I can see that it might come across as arrogance to someone who does not know you well. You seldom laugh anymore. You rarely even smile.”

  “Anne, I have so many things on my mind. Do you realize how many lives fall under my responsibility? The success of Pemberley and the prosperity of its tenants weigh heavily on my mind, as does Georgiana’s well-being.”

  “Yes, I know that the business of your estate and the well-being of your sister occupy your mind. But you seem to have lost sight of the pleasures of Pemberley and the delight of your sister’s company.”

  Darcy closed his eyes and sighed in frustration.

  Anne raised her eyebrows in rebuke. “I see you do not take me seriously. But truly, Darcy, how long has it been since you have allowed yourself to enjoy the beauty of your home, and its comforts? And in focusing on Georgiana’s well-being, have you lost sight of her companionship? How long has it been since you have had fun with your sister? Just plain fun! Being master of Pemberley certainly has its responsibilities, but it also has its rewards. Do not let your worries preclude your joy, cousin! Do you not remember one of the most oft-repeated commandments in scripture – ‘Do not worry’? If Miss Elizabeth could see the Darcy of our youth – the one who smiled and laughed and played…the Darcy I know still exists under that severe countenance – I know she could not help but fall in love with him.”

  Darcy smiled down at his cousin and took her hand. “Thank you, cousin. You have given me a lot to think about. I will keep your words in mind – I promise.” Darcy squeezed Anne’s hand gently before bringing it to his lips. “Fare well, dear cousin,” he said softly.

  �
�God be with you, Darcy,” Anne replied.

  Darcy turned to leave just as Mrs. Jenkinson returned. “Goodbye, Mrs. Jenkinson. It has been a pleasure to see you again,” he said with a bow.

  Chapter 2

  Darcy was glad he had spoken with Anne. By the time Richard had returned from the parsonage, Darcy’s features had softened considerably from what they had earlier been. Still, his heart was heavy as he and Richard entered the carriage bound for London. As they travelled, Richard seemed to understand that Darcy was not in a mood to talk, so he took out his book and started reading.

  Darcy, too, held a book in his lap, but he left it unopened as he pondered Anne’s words. Had his countenance really been that stern? Yes, he was serious. He had always carried himself with utmost decorum. But stern? Arrogant? When had he become so? Probably about the time he buried his father and took over the role as master of Pemberley, he thought sullenly, and became guardian of his young sister, Georgiana, who was more than ten years his junior. Perhaps it was earlier than that even. It may have begun around the time that he realized that his childhood friend, George Wickham, had become a complete reprobate, continually leaving Darcy to clean up the aftereffects of his reckless lifestyle.

  Can anyone blame him for being so… for taking his responsibilities seriously? After all, his concerns were important, much more so than that of the small-minded society of Meryton and its environs. Darcy thought back to Sir William, so proud of his recent knighthood. And Thomas Bennet, whose total estate could not be expected to bring in more than a few thousand pounds per year. Their duties were minimal in comparison, and their country manners were clearly inferior. And yet, he thought resignedly, they shared friendship and mutual respect. And, he admitted with bitterness, they were loved by Elizabeth Bennet, while his sense of duty and his impeccable manners had earned only her contempt.

  He had certainly won no friendships in Hertfordshire. Even Mrs. Bennet, with five unmarried daughters, had held him in disdain. “So genteel and easy!” Mrs. Bennet had said about Sir William. “He had always something to say to everybody. THAT is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important and never open their mouths,” she said while looking pointedly at Darcy, “quite mistake the matter.”

  But did it really bother him if that woman treated him with derision? She was no better than the mothers in le bon ton, who constantly tried to marry off their daughters for wealth and status. After realizing the direction of his thoughts, he corrected himself. He meant that she was even worse than those mothers, who were of the highest status in society. It was only natural for them to seek wealthy husbands for their daughters. They had fortunes to maintain. The Bennets’ estate was entailed away from the female line. Well, to be fair, perhaps Mrs. Bennet has even more reason to pursue a good match, he thought. At least Mrs. Bennet obviously loves her daughters, he realized, unlike his Aunt Catherine, who, with little evidence of affection for her daughter, had sought relentlessly to seal a match between Anne and Darcy to increase the family fortune, without regard to her daughter’s needs and desires, nor his, for that matter. Perhaps the Bennet family, despite their lack of fortune, had some virtues, even over his own.

  Alright, maybe he had been arrogant in his address to Elizabeth. But surely he had no…how did she put it? “Selfish disregard for the feelings of others.” Now, that was truly unfair! Did he not treat his servants with respect, and did this not earn him loyalty seldom seen among the servants of other great estates? Were not his tenants treated fairly? Who in all of Derbyshire had heard him utter a cross word? Of course, Elizabeth had never been to Derbyshire. But had not his behavior in Hertfordshire been the same? What cross words had he uttered? How could the feelings of others have suffered on his account? Never!

  Gradually, phrases started creeping into his consciousness. “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt ME. I’m in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.” Darcy winced as he recalled his remarks at the Meryton assembly, where he had first met the Bennet family. He had been out of sorts and desperate to end Bingley’s endless nagging about dancing. And then, there were his words at Netherfield, “Her a beauty? I would sooner call her mother a wit.” Had he truly made such loathsome statements? Darcy shifted positions uncomfortably in the carriage seat. Could Elizabeth have heard either of these remarks? Clearly, he had not danced with her, or with anyone beyond his own party at the assembly, a fact to which she had later referred during a spirited conversation with him and Richard in Aunt Catherine’s parlor. Had she been only teasing, as he had assumed? There was always a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult to affront anybody with her playful remarks. But had those remarks reflected true offense? She had grounds for offense, certainly, had she heard certain comments of his own.

  His cousin raised his eyebrows but said not a word as Darcy continued to fidget restlessly in the moving carriage.

  She could have overheard him at the assembly, Darcy thought. He recalled that, at the time, he suspected that she may have, but shortly thereafter he had seen her laughing with her friends, so he had quickly put the incident out of mind. He had never apologized! “Selfish disregard for the feelings of others.” Her words came back to him as clearly as if she were standing before him, and Darcy moaned audibly.

  With a thud, Richard set down the book he had been attempting to read. “Okay, Darcy. Tell me,” he said in his most authoritative colonel voice. “What is bothering you?”

  “Nothing for you to be concerned with, Richard,” Darcy replied.

  “Nothing? You have been sulking all morning, and now you are moaning like a man injured in battle.”

  “I do not sulk, and I certainly do not moan!”

  Richard raised his eyebrows and stared pointedly at Darcy.

  Darcy stared back determinedly before finally turning away to gaze out the window. “I am fine, Richard. Truly, I am.”

  “Then why were you so discourteous to our neighbors this morning?”

  Darcy was affronted and turned back to his cousin. “How was I discourteous? I made a special trip to the parsonage to bid my adieus!”

  “You were not willing to wait even a few minutes for Miss Elizabeth. After all the time you and I have spent with the lady these past few weeks, were you not willing to bid her goodbye?”

  “She would not have wanted me to wait for her, Richard. She would not have wanted to see me.”

  Richard stared at Darcy, a puzzled expression on his face. “Why, Darcy? Why would she not want to see you?”

  Darcy did not reply but turned to look out the window once again. Richard’s voice was quieter now, as he realized the despondency in Darcy’s countenance. “Tell me, Darcy,” he said warily. “What did you say to Miss Bennet?”

  Darcy sighed heavily. “I proposed to her,” he admitted softly.

  “Proposed?!” Richard almost shouted. Darcy remained silent, as Richard pondered what he had heard. Darcy had proposed? Yet Miss Bennet would not have wanted to see him? Miss Bennet had rejected him! Fitzwilliam Darcy – the man considered to be one of the most eligible bachelors in all of England! The great man sought by every single lady of the ton, and every mother who had a daughter betwixt ages 16 and 35! He had been rejected? This was singular indeed! He knew that Miss Bennet was a remarkable woman, but to refuse Fitzwilliam Darcy? Incredible! Yet Richard’s incredulity gradually began to subside as he began to grasp the situation. His cousin was hurting. This self-assured, strong, staid bachelor was his dear cousin –

  the sensitive, good-hearted companion of his youth, and clearly he was hurting. “I take it the proposal was not accepted,” he said, knowing he had to say something, but not knowing where to start.

  Darcy shook his head and continued to stare out the window.

  “Did she say why?”

  “Yes.”

  “Want to share?

  “No.”

  “Come on,
Darcy. It will help to talk about it.”

  Darcy did not agree, but he turned to face his cousin. “She gave many reasons, actually. I hardly know where to start.”

  “Start at the beginning, Cuz.”

  “Well, for a start, she said that she could never accept the man who had ruined the happiness of her beloved sister.”

  “What does her sister have to do with it?”

  “I convinced Bingley that her sister did not return his regard. I talked him into staying away from Netherfield.”

  Fitzwilliam blanched as Darcy continued.

  “Bingley is my friend. I thought that Miss Bennet did not love him, and I could not bear to see him in such a match. Apparently, I was wrong.”

  “This is my fault, Darcy. I told Elizabeth,” Richard said solemnly.

  “Told her what?”

  “That you had saved your friend from an imprudent marriage.”

  “How could you have said such a thing to Elizabeth?”

  “I could not have known that the lady was her sister! I thought I was giving her an example of your loyalty!”

  Both were quiet. “I’m so sorry, Darcy,” Richard said after a moment.

  “It does not matter, Richard. That was not her only reason for refusing me. She also had Wickham’s testimony to hold against me.”

  “Wickham? That scoundrel! What did he say to her?”

  “The usual lies. He told her that I was responsible for his ruination; that I withheld advantages that were due to him, reducing him to poverty. Undoubtedly, he told her that I had denied him the living bequeathed to him by my father. He has used that story before.”

  “And did you not tell her the truth, cousin?”

  “Not immediately, though early this morning I gave her a letter to let her know what really happened. I explained all my dealings with Wickham.” He met his cousin’s eyes for the first time.

  “In a letter, Darcy? You did not tell her about Georgiana!”

  “I had to, Richard. She must know the truth about Wickham. He must not be allowed to hurt her!”