by J Dawn King
Simmons, Darcy’s long time butler, had never in all of his long years of service to the Darcys, had one pleasant experience with Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a breath. He wondered that such an uncivil, rude, arrogant woman could be related to Lady Anne Darcy.
Darcy thought to relieve the suffering of his staff by walking out to the hall. He was unaware that Elizabeth had followed behind. Georgiana sat like stone on the settee with her hand up to her open mouth and the Gardiners and Jane remained unmoved.
“Aunt Catherine, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected call?” Darcy noted several things at once. Lady Catherine was accompanied by her sycophantic rector, Mr. Collins, she was extremely angry, and she was completely ignoring him, her piercing gaze focused on a point just behind him.
He looked back to see where his aunt’s finger was pointing to find his beautiful wife, standing erect with her chin lifted and her eyes blazing. Ah, reinforcements! He chuckled to himself at the thought. His aunt’s first words had him go from a feeling of peace to fury.
“You harlot!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The reactions of those in the entry and in the drawing room were varied: shock, horror, disbelief, and smugness. It was the look on Mr. Collins’s face that reflected the last. He was unused to having his desires usurped and his patroness denied. Lady Catherine de Bourgh had sent him to Longbourn to gain a wife and the refusal he got from Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a disruption to his plans. He demanded justice was served to the insolent girl.
Lady Catherine had been incensed when the express came from Collins. He finally had proven his worth. There was no way on the earth she was going to allow her nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy, to ruin his future— and hers— by attaching himself to a worthless girl. Lady Catherine had set out immediately and hoped beyond hope that the marriage had not been consummated. An annulment would be impossible should that have happened. There was no telling what arts and allurements had been used to gain the hand of her nephew. Though a divorce would bring temporary shame to the Fitzwilliam family name, it was worth the slight to have Darcy separated from that woman. Lady Catherine had thought ahead and brought a bank draft in the amount of ten thousand pounds for Miss Bennet to settle herself in someone else’s household.
Darcy walked briskly and stood in front of Mr. Collins. His fists balled at his sides.
“You, Mr. Collins, are wholly unconnected to me and have no reason to be in my home. Wait for my aunt in her carriage.” It was not a request. Darcy wanted to wipe that smirk off the clergyman’s face in the same manner that Richard had acted against Wickham. There was only a fine line between his control and acting on his desires and he hoped Collins was as foolish as he looked. He was.
“Sir, my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has declared your marriage to my cousin to be nonsense and the work of a skilled courtesan, which…”
That was as far as the man got. Darcy’s fist shot out and Lady Catherine’s rector hit the floor. Before anyone could move a muscle, Darcy turned on his aunt.
“How dare you!” Shame battled with anger in Darcy’s chest. “How dare you come into my home and insult the woman who is my wife. You will apologize to Mrs. Darcy this instant, Lady Catherine, or you will never be welcomed in our homes again.”
She was the daughter of an Earl. Darcy’s father was a farmer. Yes, she was completely aware her younger sister had married that farmer, but this was not to be borne. Lady Catherine needed Darcy to accomplish her plans. However, a married Darcy would serve no purpose at all. It was imperative for the future of the Matlocks that Darcy be united with her daughter, Anne de Bourgh. Lady Catherine and Lord Matlock had a love for one thing and one thing only— status. Darcy’s help could not be guaranteed until he was attached to the family, not just by birth, but by the unbreakable bond of matrimony. It mattered not to her that she wanted that same bond broken between Darcy and Elizabeth. For her, the ends did justify the means.
Lady Catherine knew she had overplayed her hand. Retreat was her only option at the time.
“Nephew,” Lady Catherine purred. “You will soon come to your senses and see what that woman is about. She has taken advantage of you and you are following her skirt like a puppy. Come to Matlock House tonight and we will talk with my brother about the future of this family. We have plans for you, Fitzwilliam, which will keep the family name and the shades of Pemberley from being polluted.” Lady Catherine stepped closer to Darcy. She was so lost in her own visions of success that she failed to see the signs of fury on her nephew. “Leave this woman and come tonight. We will talk then.”
Turning to a footman, who had stoically witnessed the confrontation, Lady Catherine demanded that he help Mr. Collins from the floor and into her carriage. She turned and walked out of the house without looking back, her words moving like ripples throughout the ground floor and beyond.
Darcy and the rest of his guests were stunned.
This was the first time Georgiana had ever seen her aunt in full force and she was suddenly terrified at how Lady Catherine would have reacted had she learned of her aborted elopement with a steward’s son. For the first time since Elizabeth had helped her, and Darcy had arranged to keep the rumors from spreading, Georgiana felt regret for her actions. If Lady Catherine reacted that way, she knew her Uncle Matlock would follow. That would have alienated her from her relatives and she would have been alone with Wickham in that hovel Elizabeth had talked about. She started crying and the tears refused to stop. Georgiana hated that she had been wrong and acted the fool.
Darcy stood as still as a statue facing the door, his fists still ready to strike. His insides shook with the thought that he had wanted to strike his aunt in the same manner he had Collins. He was unaware that Elizabeth approached him until he felt her arms wrap around his middle and her head tuck under his chin. He unclenched his jaw for fear his teeth would break and closed his eyes as he held her tightly to him. They stood together for the longest time, neither uttering a word. Eventually, Elizabeth leaned back and put her hand on the side of his face, cupping his cheek where she could feel the muscle spasm against her palm.
“William.” Her voice was a whisper. “Can she take me away from you?”
“Never!” Just the thought of Elizabeth being gone from his life was repulsive and frightening. In his arms was a woman worthy of fighting for. He pulled her back to him and squeezed her tighter.
They were unaware of how closely their actions were being watched by the Gardiners, Georgiana, and Jane. Eventually, Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat to remind them that they were not alone.
The sound registered, but they were still lost in their protective cocoon. Again, Elizabeth leaned back and this time tilted her face up to him, a promise in her eyes. Darcy kissed her deeply and passionately. There was no other response needed. Their practice of the night before served to comfort and soothe as they found solace in each other.
Again, Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat. This time, his niece and her husband reacted as they were expected. They pulled apart, though they continued to hold hands, drawing strength from one another.
Elizabeth smiled up at Darcy and he wondered at her reaction.
“We are a team, are we not, Mr. Darcy?”
The laugh that burst from Darcy was unexpected and unusual to those who had served him for any length of time. To Elizabeth, who did not know his habits, it was met with joy.
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy, we are a team.” He squeezed her hand before placing it at his elbow, tucking it close, and walking beside her into the drawing room.
“I offer my sincerest apologies, Mr. Gardiner. That you and your wife were subject to the inconsiderate behavior of my aunt is shameful. Miss Bennet, I do hope you were not too upset by its occurrence?” Darcy looked to the three guests and his young sister and knew that he owed Mr. Gardiner the truth of the events of the past two days. He turned to his wife.
“Mrs. Darcy, might you want to serve some re
freshments to the ladies while your uncle and I retire to my study?” He looked closely into her eyes, reading them as if it was his favorite novel. If there was any trepidation there, he would not remove himself. There was none.
Once they were separated, Elizabeth sat next to Georgiana. Her new sister had witnessed the tender bond of union between Elizabeth and her brother and knew for a certainty that the feelings she had for George Wickham paled in comparison. The past two days had opened Georgiana’s eyes to two truths. First, she had made a terrible decision which had unexpectedly dire consequences, and second, that she was not nearly as wise as she had thought she was.
“Lizzy, are you well?” Jane had never witnessed such a display of ill manners. She hoped she never had to face someone as overpowering as Lady Catherine. Something else was just as shocking. “You kissed Mr. Darcy!” It was such a breach of propriety; one she never expected to see from Lizzy. Jane had always wished to be as brave and courageous as her sister. Lizzy was the first to try something new and often dragged Jane behind her so that Jane’s own scope of knowledge widened out as a consequence. Nevertheless, kissing in public was just not done! Jane could not help but tease her sister.
Elizabeth chuckled at her sister and the air seemed to clear of the bitterness Lady Catherine left behind. “I did, did I not?”
Jane noticed Lizzy’s smile of pleasure and wondered at the joys a good marriage could bring. She had no idea how Lizzy came to be married to Mr. Darcy instead of Mr. Collins. However, she shuddered at anyone being attached to that officious man. It was a matter of deep shame to her that there was any relationship between the clergyman and the Bennet family.
“Jane, Aunt Gardiner, you need to know that I am coming to have deep respect for my husband. His standing up for and defending me was not unexpected. It is what he does for those under his care. I am surprised that his aunt does not know this about her nephew as she has known him far longer than I have.” She sighed heavily and reached over and patted Georgiana’s hand. “I feel this will permanently drive a wedge between my husband and the rest of his family.”
She turned to her new sister. “Will you suffer from this separation, Georgiana?”
Georgiana was quick to shake her head. “Not at all, Elizabeth. This will be a consequence of Aunt Catherine’s actions, not yours. The farther away Aunt Catherine is from me the better it is, I believe.”
“Well, then, let us speak of other things while the gentlemen have their discussion. Might I suggest that our new sister give us a tour of the house? After all, I am a stranger to it as well.”
Elizabeth wondered at the discussion William was having with Uncle Gardiner but did not worry as they were two good men who had their family’s best interest at heart. She smiled to herself as she followed Georgiana out of the room. That was as it should be, was it not?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“William?” It was their second night together and Elizabeth was wrapped in Darcy’s arms. The turmoil of the day had filtered into the evening and they sought comfort from each other; both grateful for their particular companion.
“Yes, Elizabeth,” Darcy’s body was relaxed, but his mind still churned. It was difficult for him to focus. Pride in his name, his heritage, had been an essential part of his makeup. It elevated him and kept him separate from the mundane— he thought. Witnessing the atrocious conduct of his aunt, especially in front of Elizabeth and her family, was embarrassing and humiliating. He now had empathy for what his wife felt at Longbourn with the declarations Mrs. Bennet made about his income. That thought shamed him. He had judged Elizabeth’s mother poorly. Yes, her conduct and speech were vulgar, but what about his own aunt? Vulgar was not harsh enough to describe Lady Catherine’s offensive behavior. Her parting sally was worrisome. Darcy could not remember a time when his Aunt Catherine had backed down.
“William, I am sorry to interrupt your thoughts, but I would like to know about your conversation with my uncle. You seemed to get on well with him.” It was a statement that came out sounding like a question.
Darcy looked at his wife closely and saw that she was not entirely confident. This was a new impression of Elizabeth; one that was quite unexpected. He quickly reassured her.
“We got on very well, Elizabeth.” Without a thought, he kissed her forehead. “I explained the events that led up to our marriage and he appeared to accept it with resignation.”
She looked up at him, hesitating to ask. “Not with pleasure?”
“No, not with pleasure, as you well know.” Darcy paused, considering how he could say what she wanted to know. “Your uncle is a shrewd businessman and judge of character, there is no doubt. He wants the best for you, Elizabeth, and he put me through an inquisition, demanding proof of my ability and desire to care for you. I will try to remember exactly what he asked when a young man offers for Georgiana. It was as a good parent should do for a daughter who is loved.”
As soon as Darcy said it, he wished it unsaid. Elizabeth’s own father had asked nothing of him other than to provide for his wife’s future. He saw the pain flash in Elizabeth’s eyes and pulled her closer, whispering an apology. His wife, his strong, fearless wife, had been hurt by her father’s carelessness and Darcy wished he could somehow make it up to her. He did not know Elizabeth well enough to know if a purchased gift or a night at the theater or the opera would make her feel better. Possibly some jewelry? His frustration with not knowing was ridiculous, he knew that. They knew one another so little. He tried another tack.
“Elizabeth, when… if we are blessed with children,” Darcy was surprised when Elizabeth interrupted him.
“Please, I cannot speak of this now, William.” The ache in her heart hurt to the point of tears. Elizabeth wanted to believe that her father would not have made her marry Mr. Collins. However, there was a measure of doubt that lingered. As much as she loved her uncle, it was her father who had educated her, or so she told herself. Upon reflection, she realized that he provided the books and a quiet corner for her to read in his study, but he left it up to her to decide what to read and when. It had been Mrs. Hill, Longbourn’s housekeeper, who had helped her learn to keep and balance the accounts, and it had been Cook who had taught her to make the apple tarts that her father greedily devoured. To consider the kind of parent she would be in the future would mean taking a closer look at the way she was raised in the past. It was more than she wanted to consider with so much else that weighed upon her.
It was at a time like this that both Darcy and Elizabeth regretted the speed of their marriage. Not having time to court his wife properly meant that he did not know Elizabeth well. He yearned to provide relief but knew not how to accomplish that feat. Not having been able to observe her husband in his interactions with others caused her to be uncertain as to how he would respond when provoked. They had much to learn.
“Tell me what you expect from your uncle. Will he be very angry that you did not attend him tonight at Matlock House?” Elizabeth was deeply concerned. She feared that Lady Catherine and the Matlocks would stop at nothing to tear her and William apart. Her fear was so real that she could taste it, bitter and sharp, like berries not yet ripened.
“I will not wait upon my uncle. If he is in partnership with Aunt Catherine, he can come to me.”
Elizabeth found a measure of pleasure in her husband’s unwillingness to bow to family when they were clearly in the wrong. It had to be uncomfortable for Darcy. She doubted that before the events of earlier that day, her husband had stood against his aunt and uncle in such a manner.
Darcy’s inclination was to keep his thoughts and explanations to himself. However, he was married now. He sighed at the impressions that came to his mind. He easily imagined what he would have heard had he gone to Matlock House. Snippets of the conversation swam through his mind like spawning fish struggling upstream against the current: “uniting Pemberley and Rosings”; “most powerful family”. He had heard the same every time he was in Lady Catherine’s presence,
less often with his uncle. They were phrases that painted a picture that at one time Darcy would have viewed as a masterpiece. When had he changed? His father had not reared him to seek prominence. Darcy was trained to appreciate the power and influence his family name carried in society; no more or less than that. Darcy put his forearm over his eyes to block the vision he saw of himself. Until tonight, he had not realized that his association with the Fitzwilliam family had tarnished that fine training. When had he became just like them? It would have caused his mother much distress to know he had turned out to be a copy of her siblings. His father would be ashamed. How could he tell his wife that she had married someone with a character rotted with ambition?
Darcy thought of the wisdom of starting as you mean to go on. Elizabeth was correct. If he wanted the kind of future his parents had, he would need to be open with his wife. “You want to know it all?”
At her nod, he told her of the expected anger and accusations, the bitterness and backstabbing. Richard would stand beside him and be equally offended. It would be a poor showing and the attack would bear wounds that might never heal.
