by Jayne Bamber
“Oh, Charlotte,” Elizabeth sighed, taking her cousin’s hands. “I did not mean it like that – I am sorry.”
“I know, dearest. I only wish… well, never mind that. I am happy for you, now let us get some sleep.”
***
Richard could not sleep for thinking of Jane, envious that he had not gotten to sneak away with his lady love as Darcy had. He was on the verge of creeping from his room to see if anyone was still awake and about, when there came voices in the corridor. He opened the door and stepped out into the hall; in the light of the single sconce still lit, he could make out the figures of Aunt Catherine and her daughter, lurking outside one of the guest rooms.
Richard hung back in the shadows for a moment, listening.
“Now is your chance, Anne,” Lady Catherine hissed at her daughter.
“But the maid said Sir Edward is staying the night as well. What if it is not the right room?”
“Nonsense, child. Fitzwilliam always favors the blue room when he stays.” Lady Catherine reached up and pulled back the sleeves on Anne’s night dress, and began to push her at the door, when Richard stepped forward. He cleared his throat as he strode up to them, and Anne froze as her hand rested on the door knob.
“Aunt Catherine,” Richard hissed. “We had not expected you back before morning. Why did the marquess send you home in all this weather?”
“Never you mind,” his aunt snapped back. “I hardly anticipated coming home to find my sister and her daughter in my own dear girl’s bed.”
“And so you thought to send her in to Darcy’s bed? I think Anne had better share with you, Aunt, and now I must retire, and consider whether I need to tell my father about this in the morning. I am sure you were only over tired, and confused,” he said firmly.
Anne glared at him, drawing away from Darcy’s door and stomping on Richard’s foot as she swept past him toward her mother’s room. “We shall see who speaks to Henry in the morning,” Lady Catherine said imperiously, before following her daughter.
Richard stood watch, making sure they did indeed return to their room, and then knocked on Darcy’s door. There was no answer – he turned the knob and was relieved to find that at least the door was locked, and he needn’t stand vigil for his cousin all night. He returned to his room, walking past Jane’s door with a heavy longing in his heart.
***
Darcy sat down to breakfast a happy man the next morning. Only Richard and Charlotte were awake, fixing plates for themselves at the sideboard when Darcy entered. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully.
“It may be for you,” Richard said as he turned around and sat down at the table. “And if it is, I believe you have me to thank, Cousin.”
“Is that so? I had rather intended to direct my gratitude elsewhere.”
“That you may,” Richard said with a wry look. “And yet, I must claim a share myself, for I saved you most heroically from a fate worse than death last night, I am sure.”
“Good Heavens, Richard,” Charlotte laughed. “Was the house ablaze, I wonder?”
“Not unless Aunt Catherine and her daughter set a fire themselves, once I caught them out trying to sneak into Darcy’s room.”
Charlotte momentarily lost her composure as she drank her coffee, but Darcy calmly sipped at his own. “It is fortunate that I locked my door.”
“Why did you? Has she tried something before?”
“I had wondered if she might. Anne has been to Darcy House every day for a week on the pretense of visiting our grandmother, but she always seeks me out, and with Jane and Mary both receiving their eager beaux, I am forced to be sociable so that she cannot get me alone.”
“How tragic for you,” Charlotte chortled.
Richard laughed and shrugged. “Well, I hope you settle things quickly with Lizzy, before Anne tries again. After everything that has happened... I hardly know, but we are all so very happy, and I feel the strangest sense of dread.”
“Brother, it is far too early to be so maudlin,” Charlotte drawled.
Darcy stirred his coffee contemplatively; he had felt the same just last evening. “Elizabeth wishes to take some time yet,” he said after a moment. “I shall simply have to speak to Uncle. He clearly favors my intentions toward Elizabeth, from what I could discern last evening.”
Richard and Charlotte exchanged a look of private mirth. “Lizzy told me the same, that she needs time,” Charlotte said to Darcy.
He regarded his cousins with some amusement. “Were you all in on it, then?”
“Of course, yes, all of us,” Charlotte replied. “Well, perhaps not John, at first, but I think he seemed to catch on rather quickly.”
“No, he knew,” Richard guffawed.
Charlotte laughed. “And Jane was in on it too? I was not sure.”
“Nor I, but I think so. She did me very proud, indeed!”
Darcy shook his head and pretended to peruse the newspaper. “What scandalous relations I have,” he drawled.
“You certainly have one,” Richard said, snatching away Darcy’s newspaper. “I have some idea about what to do with Cousin Anne – you know there will only be a row if Father tries to intercede on your behalf – what if we were to provide Anne some… distraction, while you settle things with Lizzy?”
Darcy considered. “You may be right – so much has gone wrong, it does seem strange that it should be smooth sailing from here, and I cannot risk anything else going amiss with Elizabeth. If Anne were to catch wind of it, she might very well make all of us miserable, perhaps Elizabeth most of all.”
Richard grinned. “Two words: Elliot de Bourgh.”
Charlotte leaned forward with interest. “Who is Elliot de Bourgh?”
Darcy laughed. “There would definitely be a row between Uncle Henry and Lady Catherine.”
“Perhaps not – but it would amuse me to find out.”
Charlotte swatted at her brother. “Who is Elliot de Bourgh?”
Richard gave her a mysterious smirk before wagging his eyebrows at Darcy. “I am for York next week anyhow, to meet with the fellow who is buying the Scottish estate – come with me, let us visit our old friend. If what Lady Catherine has always feared does indeed come to pass, it shall bode well for you, your sanity, and dear Lizzy as well.”
Darcy chuckled. “An entertaining notion, and your estimation is likely accurate; I am sure it could be managed, though I should rather pity poor Elliot.”
“No indeed! I daresay he would put up with a great deal to get Rosings Park back into his family’s hands.”
“But I cannot be away from Elizabeth a whole fortnight.”
“A whole fortnight? No – nine days, ten at the most. We could make it in four days there, and the same back again, and we could easily accomplish all our business in the space of one or two days more. Did not Lizzy say she needs time? Give her some – they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
Darcy nodded. “I shall send word to Elliot and his father – he will need to be ready to travel the morning after we arrive – I shall give you eight days, and that is all.”
Richard extended his hand for Darcy to shake. “Eight days it is, Darcy. I shall meet with my buyer and then help you work on Elliot, though I doubt it will take much.” He grinned, then drew a little flask out of his coat pocket and poured a generous amount of the amber liquid into his coffee. “The Fitzwilliam cousins, going north on a quest – to track down the man who can woo Anne de Bourgh best!”
Charlotte gaped at her brother, laughing despite her evident confusion. “Will someone please tell me what is going on?”
18
The rest of the family had finally made their way down to breakfast, with two notable exceptions, who were not missed at all. The Darcys and Gardiners had just begun to speak of returning home at last, when Mary was shown into the drawing room.
“Here you all are,” Mary said. “Grandmamma is quite beside herself, and sent me over directly. Oh – Jane, Richard!” Mary came f
orward to embrace them and offer her congratulations. “I wished to be here last night, but I knew there should hardly be room for me to stay over – oh!” She leaned in, whispering in Jane’s ear. Jane nodded, casting a glance at Elizabeth and William, who were seated nearby; Mary giggled and waved at them.
Elizabeth looked at William and laughed, sliding her hand toward his – he captured it, and gave it a quick kiss. After exchanging more whispers with their mother, Mary soon came over to William and Elizabeth, smirking merrily. “Oh, not you, too,” Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes and giving her sister a playful smile.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Yes indeed, me too.”
“And so you have come all this way to tease me? I wonder that it was safe to come out at all, as heavily as it snowed last night.”
William leaned closer to Elizabeth and discreetly wrapped his arm around her. “It may yet be too dangerous for any of us to leave the house,” he whispered in her ear.
“How odd – it is the first day of spring, yet there must be a foot of snow on the ground, I am sure,” Mary said. “It was really quite a beautiful sight when I stepped outside this morning. It reminded me of when we were young, at Pemberley.”
“Ah, yes,” Elizabeth mused dreamily as she leaned nearer to William. “We used to have the most remarkable snowball fights.”
“I remember having snowball fights with Richard and John,” William said, “and later, with Jane and Mary, but never with you.”
“We must remedy that,” Elizabeth teased him.
Charlotte was moving that way, and she stopped when she heard Elizabeth speak. “What’s this, Cousin? Planning some mischief?”
“Mmm, perhaps.” Elizabeth stood up and peered out the window – the road had been mostly cleared, but there was still a beautiful and enticing blanket of snow on the ground in the square.
“I say yes,” Mary whispered, and as Elizabeth offered her a smirk in return, Mary caught her by one hand, and Charlotte by the other. Laughing, the three girls hurried from the room – Charlotte latched on to Jane on their way out, and the four of them donned their warmest coats before running out of the house, and out onto the square.
Elizabeth followed her sisters and Charlotte out to the middle of the square, the four of them kicking up snow as they ran, and when they reached it, Charlotte spun about with her arms in the air. The snow was still gently falling, and Mary had not exaggerated the amount of it already on the ground.
The rest of their family trickled out of Matlock house. The girls made their way back toward the edge of the square as the earl and countess lingered on the steps with Lady Anne and Sir Edward. John and Richard came bolting around them, down the steps, and across the road with William following behind at a more sedate pace.
“Have some decorum, children,” the earl cried out to them.
Charlotte was the first to throw a snowball, packing it quickly and tossing it across the road at her father. It fell short of the stairs, but Lady Phyllis give a cheeky smile and scooped some snow off of the railing of the stairs, smashing it into the earl’s chest. Aunt Phyllis caught Lady Anne by the hand and led her down the steps, and she in turn latched on to Sir Edward; soon even the Earl was forced to make his way out to enjoy the snow.
The Fitzwilliam brothers had just reached the ladies, and Richard stopped just short of Jane, heaving himself backward. He moved his arms and legs through the loosely packed snow, making a snow angel, while John kicked more loose snow back at him.
Jane laughed at her fiancé, and he kicked his leg up behind hers, causing her to tumble down onto the snow beside him with a loud squawk. The earl chided them again as he approached the square. “I daresay half the neighborhood will see you – look, you already have an audience.” Uncle Henry pointed across the square, at the Gardiner House on Upper Brook Street. There in the window was Rose, her hands pressed up against the glass, watching them.
Elizabeth gave a little jump of glee and waved her hands in the air, beckoning Rose to join them. She let out a little cry of delight, and a moment later felt an arm catch her around the waist – she looked up at William and smiled at the sight of him with snowflakes in his hair.
“If we were home at Pemberley, I would take you skating on a day like this,” he whispered in her ear. “Quite alone.”
Elizabeth blushed and drew away from him just a little. He had been openly affectionate with her since she had come down to breakfast, but despite their activities the prior evening – or perhaps because of them – she was still adjusting to keeping her composure while in such close physical proximity. Out in the open as they were, she could not let herself be tempted. As she moved away from his embrace, she noticed he still held one arm behind his back, and asked, “What have you there?”
He raised his hand to reveal a very well-packed snowball. Again he leaned in to whisper, “Who shall my target be?”
Elizabeth looked around, tapping her chin as she considered. Rose was just that moment coming out of the Gardiner house, still putting her gloves on, and Elizabeth gestured in her cousin’s direction – Rose would take it in good humor.
“She is too far,” he whispered. “Try again.”
Elizabeth cast her eyes across the square. The earl and countess had hung back as her sisters and cousins frolicked in the snow, and at the center of the square her mother and Uncle Edward had drifted toward a little copse of trees – Elizabeth noticed with no little curiosity that they were holding hands.
“I should think it an easy decision,” William chided her, and pointed at the earl as he took him and hurled the snowball into the air. The earl was struck square in his belly, and cried out in exaggerated indignation. For a moment his children and nieces all stared at him in alarm before breaking out into laughter. William had already crouched down to begin packing another, which he launched at Richard.
Rose ran to join them, and for several minutes a cheerful chaos ensued. Elizabeth happily ignored the cold in her fingers and on her face as she pelted her companions with snowballs, everyone ignoring the earl’s banter about decorum as he dodged their projectiles. Their amusement came to a halt when a carriage came down the road and stopped outside Matlock House; they all turned to watch as two gentlemen and two ladies descended the carriage and approached the snowy square.
Jane ran up to them, squealing with delight, while Rose, John, and Mary were close behind. Mr. Collins and Mr. Bingley doffed their hats. “We were just coming to see you,” Caroline cried out, embracing Jane and then Mary, before attaching herself to John with a look of great affection.
Mr. Collins began to approach Sir Edward, waving at him, and at Elizabeth as well, when he was struck by a snowball; Rose laughed until she fell backward in the snow, and the countess kicked more snow at her with a grin. Elizabeth looked up at William and they beamed happily at one another before going to greet their friends. She gave a sigh of contentment as she took in the scene before her, with everyone she held dear so merry together – she had never felt so much a part of a true family until this moment, and she squeezed William’s hand. “I love you,” she whispered.
He smiled bashfully at her. “It is good to hear you say that – although I still think my way of saying it was rather a little better.”
She blushed at the recollection. “I cannot disagree, though at present, neither can I indulge you.” She gave him a cheeky wink before moving away to speak with Mr. Collins and Mr. Bingley.
Their merry party was soon broken up when the sun broke through the clouds, promising to melt the snow, and the countess invited everybody in to warm themselves by the fire with some tea.
Mrs. Bingley had attached herself to Sir Edward, who declined the earl’s invitation, stating that he had business to attend to, and William offered to escort Elizabeth back to her uncle’s house. Mr. Collins followed as well, speaking with Uncle Edward and Rose, as Elizabeth and William lagged behind.
“There is something I must tell you,” William said as he took Eliz
abeth’s hand.
“What is it?”
“Richard has asked me to travel with him to Yorkshire, on some business.”
“Oh. And have you agreed?”
“I have, but I should be too happy to tell him that you have refused to allow it.”
“Is that so? I do not know what to make of having so much authority,” she laughed.
He looked earnestly at her. “Truly, my love – would it bother you if I went away for a week or so? Eight days, nine at the most… You said you wished for some time, and I thought perhaps it would be good for us, as separation has been before.”
“Will you write me?”
“Every day, if you wish.”
“Will you miss me?”
He raised her hand to his lips and gave it a quick kiss. “I will do little else.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I cannot object to you going, any more than Jane could object to Richard going – rather less, I think.”
“That part is entirely up to you,” William teased her.
“I shall miss you, but a week, or even nine days, is not so very long. I confess I might benefit from some time to adjust my mind to everything that has happened.”
“I hope you do not regret any of it.”
“No, not at all – only it is all so new, so unexpected.”
“But… you are happy? I could make you happy?”
“Oh yes, William. You make me very happy.”
“And shall you be back at Darcy House when I return?”
Elizabeth chewed her lip. “Perhaps not – not yet. But I shall visit every day to look in on Grandmamma, and to see Mamma and Jane and Mary.”
“Shall you write to me?”
Elizabeth laughed. “I suppose, if you give me the direction. Shall you have time to receive one of my letters?”
