by J Dawn King
When she would not look at him, he demanded she do so. In her lifetime, she could not remember her brother speaking to her in such a tone. Intense anger was her first reaction. She crossed her arms over her middle, raised her chin, and stared him in the eye. What she found there was devastating and caused her to lose all of her bluster. He was disappointed. In her. Knowing that was like a swift blow to the chest and made it difficult for her to breathe. As he spoke, the tears trickled down her cheeks— bitter tears of frustration and bitterness.
“Georgiana, what would make you think that Richard and I would not be affected by your actions and attitudes? Finding you married to Wickham would have devastated us both to the point that we would forever mourn your loss to such a scoundrel. Seeing you flaunt yourself at the theater last night, finding out that you tried to use your tears on me yesterday to get your way, and eavesdropping on my wife and I are the actions of a child. A small child.” He was moved by her tears, but would not allow them to stop him from having his say. He did soften his voice. “Our mother and father would be disappointed that Richard and I have failed to instruct their daughter in a manner they would be proud of and knowing that shames me. They, too, would be ashamed of you, Georgiana, and knowing that pains me. Does it pain you?”
He was pleased when her head immediately bobbed up and down.
“Listen closely to what I next say, sister.” Darcy waited for her to look up. Her eyes only reached his cravat, but that was good enough. “Elizabeth is my wife. Scripture says that we shall be one flesh. Not you and me, Georgiana. Elizabeth and me. Never again will I put your tears ahead of my wife’s opinions and feelings on a matter. While you have proven to act the child, she has proven to be a woman of wisdom and good sense. While you thought only of yourself and what you want, she thought of others. I am proud she is my wife. With her help and guidance, you too may come to have the same reputation. It is my hope.”
Georgiana was livid. First, her guardians held Mrs. Timmons up to her as an example and now her brother did the same with Elizabeth. It was beyond the pale! Georgiana took in a deep breath through her nose as she debated the wisdom of giving vent to her feelings. Realizing the harm it would do her, she wisely chose silence. As the miles passed, she tried to focus on something more pleasant than what she had seen and heard, but her conscience started to badger her.
She had been raised with good principles and had always felt that her actions were the pinnacle of honor and duty. She was a Darcy! Yet, her brother had shown Mrs. Timmons respect even though her position was so far below his own. Even Richard, despite his position in the regiment and in society had treated Mrs. Timmons with a dignity that he had never shown her. Who was in the wrong? It was something she needed to ponder. Desperately, she did not want it to be her.
The carriage came to a stop and the three occupants were returned to Grosvenor Square. Elizabeth and Lady Matlock welcomed them in the entrance hall. As the outer clothes of the Darcys and Richard were removed, Elizabeth looked at her husband with a raised brow. He shrugged his shoulders, not knowing if his sister had truly understood the point of the afternoon.
Georgiana brushed past her aunt and sister in a hurry to retire undisturbed to her room.
“Pardon me, Georgiana.” Elizabeth’s voice stopped her on the second step. “Where might you be going?”
Georgiana looked longingly up the stairs as if it were the last hope for escape.
“Cook is expecting you and me in the kitchen. It appears that the good colonel favors lemon tarts. We shall make them over and over until we have the perfect pastry to offer him for services rendered on this day.”
Georgiana’s groan was heard by all three. Lady Matlock smiled and raised her eyes at her son and nephew. They watched as Georgiana’s chin fell to her chest. The young girl spun around, marched down the two steps and walked across the entrance hall until she stood immediately in front of Elizabeth.
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.” Could her day get any worse?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Darcy held his wife close as his foot sought to pull the covers over their legs. He thought back over all that had happened that week. Even though their family was in such turmoil, his marriage to Elizabeth Darcy was a joy.
After several hours of Georgiana and Elizabeth being in the kitchen with Cook, his curiosity finally got the better of him and he had crept quietly below stairs to see if they were at least speaking to each other. The door had barely swung open when he heard the sound of delighted laughter. Darcy peeked around the door and found his wife and sister covered in flour. In front of them on the long wooden table sat four of the oddest-looking pies he had ever seen. Cook stood alongside the two with her index finger in her chin, surveying the offerings in front of her.
“They are horrible looking.” Georgiana chuckled.
“Can they be disguised somehow?” Elizabeth asked on a laugh, wiping her tears and spreading the flour across her cheek.
Cook finally placed her fisted hands on her hips. “Well, I have not seen a tart in that shape since I nursed at my mother’s breast.”
Georgiana gasped at the description and even Darcy turned red. He was grateful his presence was still undetected.
The cook continued. “If we whip up some cream, we may be able to cover it so that we can hide the lumps and bumps – I think.”
This only served to set the women off again. Finally, Elizabeth said amidst the humor, “Sister, I believe that we have learned all we can from this endeavor. Perhaps we should try something else on the morrow?”
Georgiana used the back of her sleeve to wipe her brow. Her blonde hair was heavily streaked with white and the apron she had over her gown had mysterious blots and blobs of something yellow that threatened to fall onto the floor.
“No, Elizabeth. I am determined. I shall come tomorrow and work at this until I can present my cousin with the perfect lemon tart. Or, I shall use up all the lemons in London trying.”
Darcy was thrilled to see his wife embrace Georgiana before turning to a horrified cook. For the peace of his household, he would have to slip something extra into Cook’s pay. Whether or not the kitchen would ever recover from his sister’s efforts, he was unsure. Whether or not, Georgiana made a perfect tart, he did not care. What was his concern was the camaraderie of his sister and his wife. He silently closed the door, grinning like a fool.
That he had the right and privilege to hold this woman in his arms pleased his soul. After they had come upstairs to their rooms for the night, she asked him to brush out her hair. It was the first time she had made such a request, but soon he understood her reasoning. It was soothing to both of them.
“William, I believe good progress was made today with Georgiana. Do you?” Elizabeth voiced her thoughts as if they were her only concern. He relaxed with her words and his movements. Darcy could not help wrapping her curls around his fingers as he pulled the brush through the layers.
“Yes, I believe so.” One stroke after another, the brush moved through the thick strands, like a knife through soft butter.
Elizabeth waited to resume her speech until she saw him completely relaxed.
“William, I was hurt last night when you chose not to listen to me about your sister. I was hurt again when you so easily listened to your aunt instead of me. I was also hurt that you did not come to me that night. At the same time, I was relieved that you did not.” Elizabeth’s words were not uttered in anger. It was disappointment that filled her voice.
The brushing stopped. Darcy looked at the reflection of her eyes in the mirror. He then knew how Georgiana felt earlier that day. When you loved someone, disappointing them was the last thing you wanted to do. Did he love her? Was it not too soon? Darcy was so surprised at his thoughts that he put the brush down on the table and stepped back from his wife. He closed his eyes so he would not see regret in her eyes. That he could not stand.
Taking a deep breath, he thought of how he could explain himself. Yes, he could arrogantly
remind her of his position as head of their domain but that would not make for peace with the one woman he valued more than all others.
“I did not want to hurt you, Elizabeth. I do not want to disappoint you and I see that I have.” He stepped back up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. Start as you mean to go on. “It has only been five days that I have been a husband. It has been fifteen years since I have lived as a family. I urge you to allow me time to learn, Elizabeth.”
Gratefully, she reached up and placed her hands on top of his. “Coincidentally, I have only been married five days as well.”
He gloried in her smile and felt relief at her humor.
“In those five days, wife, I have come to admire you tremendously.”
“As I admire you.”
When she looked up at him, no longer using the mirror to see the man she married, he bent and lifted her into his arms. It was only six steps to the bed.
***
The next several days saw many changes at Darcy House. Elizabeth’s wardrobe started to arrive, the announcements of their marriage appeared in the newspapers, and the curious started flocking around the neighborhood in the hopes of seeing the woman who had captured Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Speculation went from her being a long-time friend of the Darcy family who had compromised him to a visiting Russian princess. Gossip was rife. Richard found his popularity had increased as his mother’s friends came and went during visiting hours. Lady Matlock was delighted as it put her youngest son in the path of several eligible young women. She took delicious delight in watching him squirm. His time was coming!
For the most part, Darcy and Elizabeth enjoyed much time alone. When they were not together, his sister was with them. Georgiana had finally produced a tart measuring up to her standards on the second day. However, her pride plummeted when she put too much soap in the pot of boiling water for her bedsheets. Even Elizabeth had to admit that the bubbles were not funny after the third rinsing. The sisters were developing a closer bond as Elizabeth encouraged Georgiana and praised her efforts. She was as delighted with Georgiana’s successes as her young sister was.
It amazed Darcy at the change in his sister. Elizabeth did not understand his amazement.
“Why are you so surprised, William, that your sister finds such joy in accomplishment? Do you not also enjoy seeing something that you have done well?”
Well, for a certainty he did. It was a none-too-gentle reminder that Georgiana was growing up. Darcy found that he did not really like that thought. As the days passed, he witnessed facets of her personality that thrilled him. Others disturbed him. Darcy shook his head at how blind he had been but found comfort in his cousin being just as sightless.
Watching her husband’s reactions to his sister was enlightening to Elizabeth. It comforted and relieved her to know that he would be an involved father who would praise and compliment the efforts of his own children in whatever task they undertook. What a difference from her own parents. Certainly, both she and Darcy hoped for children. He required an heir for Pemberley and it would distract him from when Georgiana made her debut, married, and left his care.
Darcy was involving Elizabeth more and more in the running of Darcy House and in reviewing his investments. They were entertaining the Gardiner family and Bingley, discussing new investments, when the butler brought notice that Lord Matlock had arrived with Lady Catherine. Their peace was not to last.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Darcy excused himself from dinner, shaking his head at his wife’s unspoken request to attend him. Whatever transpired in the next few moments would be unpleasant and he did not want Elizabeth to come to harm. He was confident that his aunt and uncle would not try to assault his wife physically. However, their words could be powerful weapons — like a warrior throwing a spear, deadly to the mind and heart.
Elizabeth noted the apprehension on Georgiana’s face. Her young sister was seated between Aunt Gardiner and her ten-year-old daughter, Susan. At first, Darcy had hesitated over having the young children at his table. However, after witnessing their fine behavior in the Gardiner household, his uncertainty vanished like the morning mist. With the advent of Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine, the joy Georgiana had was gone.
The Gardiners soon took their leave after assuring themselves that Elizabeth would be well and Bingley followed immediately after them. He was never far from Jane Bennet and Elizabeth wondered if their relationship would progress to marriage. She easily imagined it was the desire of her mother for it to be so. When she and Darcy had visited the Gardiner’s the afternoons prior, the two sisters had been able to talk at length. Jane’s affections were entirely engaged. Jane believed Charles Bingley to be all that a gentleman should be. Their pleasant natures would allow for no dissent. Elizabeth thought of the heated discussions and passionate resolutions between herself and her husband and was perfectly content with the man she married. Like Jane and Bingley, their natures were well-matched.
Elizabeth and Georgiana settled in the music room to wait for Darcy. Neither could concentrate as both of their minds were in Darcy’s study with the family gathered there. Their imaginations were fertile and visions of battles, weapons, and bloodshed haunted them both. They would not have been surprised at the confrontation. For a confrontation it was.
***
“Now, Darcy, Cathy and I have both come to terms with your marriage to that woman.” Lord Matlock’s tone was condescending and his reference to Elizabeth as “that woman” derogatory. Darcy could see that his aunt was itching to speak but had evidently been instructed by her brother to remain silent.
Darcy refused to dignify his uncle with a comment. He sat back in the master’s chair with his arms folded across his chest. His left hand, which was tucked under his right elbow was tightly fisted in anger. His right hand lay on his left elbow as if relaxed with no care in the world. It was a studied pose, one to fool the person confronting him into thinking Darcy unaffected by the conversation. It was like he sat there in body, yet he was looking on from the outside like a spectator watching actors on the stage.
“Darcy, since leading strings you have been made aware of the importance of family. Our dearly departed sister, your mother, was proud of the Fitzwilliam heritage. If she were here today, she would be sorely disappointed that you have separated yourself from your family. You are the grandson of the Earl of Matlock, our own father. You need to set aside your Darcy sensibilities and remember where you came from.” Lord Matlock also had a seemingly relaxed pose. Nevertheless, his inability to look his nephew in the eye belied his bearing.
Darcy thought Lord Matlock’s pose must have been a trick his uncle learned in his years of political posturing. He knew what his aunt and uncle were about. Their mention of his mother was an attempt to use emotional attachments to sway him to their way of thinking. Again, he remained silent. Darcy could see the increasing nervousness growing in his uncle as the silence lengthened. Lady Catherine was all but squirming in her chair, using every bit of self-control to keep from blurting her own opinions and attempts to persuade Darcy. It made Darcy wonder what Lord Matlock held over his sister to keep her silent.
“Darcy!” Apparently, the limit had been reached. “What have you to say? You perch on your throne of authority and treat your own family with disdain as you sit in silent judgment of us.” Lord Matlock stood and leaned over the front of the desk, his arms resting their weight on his fingertips. His color had risen and small beads of sweat appeared on his upper lip. Lady Catherine jumped up to stand just behind him. Reinforcements!
“This will not do!” Lord Matlock pounded his right fist on the hard wood surface, the sound echoing around the room. “Fitzwilliam Darcy, you will pledge your support of your family or I will personally see that you, your wife, and your sister are ruined. Do you hear me now?”
Darcy did not flinch. He did not remove his eyes from his uncle’s face nor did he give any evidence that the pace of his breathing had been distur
bed. His fist, carefully hidden under his elbow, clenched so tightly that he feared the damage he might do to the bones and tendons of his own hand.
Lord Matlock stood and spun away from Darcy’s desk, almost running over the top of his sister. It was at this point that she began her tirade. Her face had turned as scarlet as her brother’s as she shook her gnarled index finger at her nephew.
“You will rue the day, Darcy, that you crossed the two of us.” Lady Catherine was so out of control that saliva sprayed over the top of his desk. Darcy closed his eyes and shook his head slightly at the mess the maids would have to clean.
The conduct of both his aunt and uncle disgusted him. He hated to think that he had ever been like them, thinking his birth elevated him over what was right and just. They were in the wrong, but their status in society could damage his family. That they threatened harm to his wife and sister crossed the line and removed him from owing any fidelity to the Fitzwilliam siblings at all.
Darcy stood from his chair as his aunt continued to rant and rave. He walked to the door and waved two footmen into the room. Inclining his head towards Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine, he signaled his desire to have them removed.
