by Jennifer Joy
Colonel Forster looked up, addressing the three men before him loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “In celebration of our wedding anniversary, I gave Helen a necklace of my design. I spared no expense, and she said she loved it.” He paused, and Elizabeth could feel his struggle. “You can imagine my surprise when, one evening, I asked her to wear it only to learn she had misplaced it. I later found out she had given it to Lieutenant Wickham— a man she had only recently met.”
Mr. Denny sat up in his seat, his jaw wide open.
Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, “Is that why you killed Mr. Wickham?”
“I was consumed with jealousy. It had never been easy to have such a pretty wife, but this was the first time she had given me reason to suspect something more than an innocent flirtation with one of my officers. It was nothing for me to slip away from the Netherfield Ball. He claimed not to have the necklace. Knowing men of his sort, I assumed he had already sold it for the money. I was so enraged, and he had so carelessly left his pistol on the table, I picked it up and shot him.”
Mr. Denny stood, his entire body shaking. “I know about the necklace,” he said, turning everyone’s attention to him.
With a nod from Colonel Fitzwilliam to continue, he said, “Wickham owed me some money. A sizable sum. The day of the ball, he gave me the necklace so I might sell it.”
“Is the necklace still in your possession, Mr. Denny?” asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Yes. Not being able to get leave during the investigation, I chose to keep it. Not long ago, I gave it as a gift to the young lady I plan to marry. I am sorry. I did not know where it had come from, only that it would cover the amount Wickham owed me.”
Mr. Darcy said, “Under the circumstances, I think it best for you to return the necklace to Colonel Forster.” Elizabeth agreed. If Kitty knew her necklace had once belonged to the deceased Mrs. Forster, she would never be able to wear it.
Colonel Forster stood, spinning on his feet to face Mr. Denny. “No! I never wish to see that necklace again. You must let your young lady keep it. Tell her nothing of how you acquired it, but let her cherish it as my dear wife never did.”
He crumpled into his seat, covering his face with his hands.
“You had best sit down too, Mr. Denny,” Father whispered. “You can sell it later and buy Kitty something you know she would like. Keep no secrets from your wife.”
Touched by his sage, loving advice, Elizabeth smiled at her father. Had he left it at that, her hopes that her parents’ love ran deeper than she supposed would have been confirmed. Unfortunately, he leaned toward her, adding, “I have never had to keep secrets from your mother. She does not understand half of what I say and does not care to listen to the other half.” He chuckled and relaxed back into his chair.
Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth focused her attention back to the front of the room. To Mr. Darcy precisely. She felt a strong pull toward him, but what if it proved to be merely a passing fancy? There had been a time when her father and mother had loved each other enough to marry, but it had not taken long for them to realize their attachment had been based on fleeting fancy. Mr. Darcy stirred her in ways which left her breathless and weakened her knees, but would it last? Could he love her until death did them part?
Mr. Darcy looked up at her. His eyes were as soft as a caress, and she could almost feel his arms around her, his gentle hands grazing her face when she had been too weak to stand. She had wished he would hold her thus for a lifetime. It was the most secure place she had known. She could not bear it if she gave him her heart, and he grew weary of her as her father had tired of Mother.
Father pointed to the front of the room. “Now this is what I want to know about.”
Mrs. Yeats was next. Elizabeth sensed the animosity between her and Mr. Darcy as clearly as if it were another person in the room.
“Will you state your real name?” asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“Mrs. Louisa Younge.”
Elizabeth gasped. She was the same woman who had nearly ruined Miss Darcy!
“Why did you assume a name?”
“I could not find work. Mr. Darcy saw to that,” she stated venomously.
“Why did you come to Meryton?”
Addressing Mr. Darcy, she said, “Do not flatter yourself that I came to beg from you. I did not know you were in Hertfordshire until I had already arrived. I came here because Mr. Wickham had promised he would take care of me if I helped him woo a young lady in possession of a generous dowry. I knew the risks involved if we were found out, and made him guarantee I would be provided for should we be discovered. He failed to keep his end of our bargain, but he proved helpful in other ways…” she let her voice trail off suggestively as she looked at Mr. Stallard.
Shifting in his seat, Mr. Stallard kept silent while Mrs. Younge continued. “You see, a business transaction failed to meet up to our expectations this past summer at Ramsgate. In need of a position, I schemed a new plan with Mr. Wickham, who found himself in dire need of a small fortune. We selected a promising young lady— handsome and with a sizable dowry. Only, Mr. Stallard found out about it and insisted his daughter return home. To Meryton.”
Mr. Darcy asked, “Mr. Stallard, did this woman attempt to blackmail you?”
His face flaming red, Mr. Stallard responded. “She is a viper and not to be trusted. Yes, she threatened to expose my daughter to ridicule unless I paid her a weekly salary.”
“Until you stopped paying!” Mrs. Younge declared to the room. She looked around with a smug expression, taking notable pleasure in watching his embarrassment.
“I had already mortgaged my estate! Where else was I supposed to get money?”
“Is that why you came to me?” Mr. Darcy asked him in a low voice.
Mr. Stallard nodded. “I am ruined. It was my last resort, and one of which I am deeply ashamed. My humiliation is complete, and so I will lay bare my offenses.” Rising from his seat, he looked at Elizabeth. “Driven to madness by this woman,” he pointed at Mrs. Younge, “I did something of which I must beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth.”
She held her breath.
“It was I who broke your window. Had I known you were in the room, I would have chosen a different window. I had hoped it would land in her room, but my desperation to rid myself of her led me to act rashly. I am sorry. I will see the damages repaired before I must leave my home.”
Mrs. Younge complained, “Is he to receive no punishment at all for what he did?”
“Fair enough question,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “What does the lady affected think?” He looked at Elizabeth kindly.
She knew her answer. “Mr. Stallard went to great lengths to keep his daughter’s indiscretion disguised and his circumstances secret. I believe that when he is called to testify in Hertford, and he has to repeat what he has told us this evening to a room crowded with curious onlookers, it will be punishment enough. No harm outside of the broken window, a fright, and a few cuts has been done.”
“That is all?” Mrs. Younge asked in disgust.
“Would you have me send him to the gallows just to please you? I would rather sleep with a peaceful conscience than indulge in revenge and end up a bitter, lonely woman.”
Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy’s nod of approval, and that was enough for her.
Mrs. Younge sneered, “I ought to have poisoned you too when I had the chance.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam bellowed, “Too? You openly admit you poisoned an individual?”
Realizing her mistake, Mrs. Younge made a point of clamping her lips shut.
It all made much more sense now. Speaking up, Elizabeth answered for her. “She poisoned my sister Lydia to avoid attending a dinner at Netherfield Park. Mr. Darcy would have recognized her immediately. Why did you stay on with us when you risked discovery at every turn?”
“It brought me pleasure to watch Mr. Darcy suffer. I had already accepted a position in your household when he was accused of murder, and I wanted nothing
more than to watch him as he dangled from the end of a rope.”
Oh, she was evil!
Mr. Darcy interrupted her before she could spout any more venom, “Mrs. Younge, you do realize the punishment for attempted murder is far worse than extortion and fraud? Your resentment has worsened your own fate.”
“It was not attempted murder! I only slipped enough arsenic into her tea to give her a stomachache!”
Unmoved, Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “You can attempt to convince the jury of that, madam.” To the crowd assembled, he added, “Very good, then. At first light, we will transport the prisoners to Hertford where they can rot in prison until their trial.” To Colonel Forster and Mrs. Younge, he said, “May God have mercy on your souls. I doubt either of you will find much sympathy in this room.”
The meeting came to an end, and everyone filed out of the inn, leaving Father sitting beside her.
“Mr. Bingley has kindly offered the use of his carriage to convey us home. A bath and a proper night’s rest will do you well. Are you strong enough to stand on your own?” He stood, offering his arm, unaware of the welcome figure approaching them from behind.
“Mr. Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy. “Might I have a word with you and Miss Elizabeth?”
Chapter 35
“Of course, Mr. Darcy. It has been a rather exciting day, has it not?” Father said, sitting down.
“My admiration for Miss Elizabeth has grown through these trying times. If it is agreeable to you, I should very much like to call on the morrow… and every day thereafter.”
Elizabeth had not realized how tense she was until her shoulders relaxed. He was giving her time! He wanted to call on her!
Father’s eyes darted around the room. Leaning forward, he said, “You do know, Mr. Darcy, I could insist you marry my Lizzy.”
“You knew?” Elizabeth asked excitably.
“Yes. I did not say anything because, of all of my girls, I know you would have the most difficulty allowing yourself to fall in love. You demand too much. But I do believe this young man here is more stubborn than even you are, my dear girl.” He pushed his spectacles down and looked at Mr. Darcy. “I apologize if I have given cause for offense.”
Mr. Darcy had the grace to laugh. “None taken.”
“I do have a question, though, if you do not mind…,” continued Father. Elizabeth winced, wishing he would keep silent before he insulted Mr. Darcy again. What would he call him next? Proud?
“Ask what you will.”
“My family has many faults, and you are not a fool to be unaware of them. There are dozens of reasons why you should not want to potentially attach yourself to my family. Why do you stay? Why my Lizzy?”
“Though there be numerous reasons to leave, I only need one to stay. My future is entirely in her hands.”
Hope gripped Elizabeth so hard, it left her speechless. Would he always put her wishes before his own? Humbled to the core he valued her enough to allow her to choose him— or not— her doubts faded away like dust in the wind.
Only four days had passed since that fateful night in Mr. Bingley’s library, but it may as well have been a lifetime. Elizabeth’s opinion of Mr. Darcy was so extremely opposite to what it had once been, and her heart palpitated in anticipation of what tomorrow would bring.
“I would like very much for you to call on the morrow,” she said, her smile deepening to the same extent of his grin.
Through tribulation, he had overcome his pride, and she had learned to see beyond her prejudices. It made her wonder what the future would bring. If their past was any indication, it would be exciting. For the present, she was happy to fall in love with Mr. Darcy.
THE END
(And so Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth lived happily ever after… or so we hope. Courtship is all fun and games until someone else gets murdered…)
Thank you!
Thank you for reading The Honorable Mr. Darcy. This story was a blast to write and the characters were so disappointed when it was done, I gave in to their insistence and have begun plotting their next story. (Charlotte Lucas was especially miffed to not be included in this story. She can be very demanding!) I can’t very well end a story before seeing Mr. Darcy and his Lizzy to the altar, and so… their story will continue.
I want to give special thanks to you, dear reader, for choosing my book and spending your precious time in reading it. Please click here to leave a review — I read all of them!
Muito obrigada to Rita, who has a gift for pointing out plot holes and makes sure there are swoon-worthy moments in the romance.
Thank you to Anji for catching my Americanisms and keeping my vocabulary true to period. Your knowledge of the Regency era is inspiring.
Thank you, Betty, for keeping my commas in line. (They’re such divas and think the book is all about them. Without your help, dear lady, they would take over!)
Muchísimas gracias to Renán, my greatest supporter and constant encourager. You’ve helped me unravel more tangled plots than I like to admit to.
Thank you, Dad and Mom, for keeping me on track. I love our ‘shop talks’ and it’s the coolest thing ever to write along with you.
And last, but certainly not least, thank you, Mammy, for always believing that I could do this. You’re the original storyteller in our family.
There are many others whom I wish to thank, but this novel would double in size, and so I’ll shout, “THANK YOU!” I appreciate all of you.
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About the Author
When Jennifer isn’t busy dreaming up new adventures for her favorite Jane Austen characters, she is teaching English, reading, perfecting her doughnut recipe, or taking her kids to the park.
Her wish is to continue to write sweet romances and mysteries with happy endings for years to come.
She currently lives in Ecuador with her husband and twins. All of them are fluent in Spanglish.
Right now, Jennifer is imagining how a courtship with such a turbulent beginning can possibly lead to a smooth Happily-Ever-After for Darcy and Elizabeth. She senses there’s more trouble to come and promises to keep a detailed account of events (because, let’s face it, it makes for fun reading!).
Other Books by Jennifer Joy
Historical Romances
Anne’s Adversity: The Cousins Series, Book 2
The Colonel’s Challenge: The Cousins Series, Book 3
Earning Darcy’s Trust
Accusing Elizabeth
Love Never Fails
Win, Lose, or Darcy
The Indomitable Miss Elizabeth: A Meryton Mystery, Book 2
The Inseparable Mr. and Mrs. Darcy: A Meryton Mystery Book 3
Cozy Mysteries
Cabs, Cakes, and Corpses: Murder on the Equator,
Book 1
Rum Raisin Revenge: Murder on the Equator, Book 2
Cold Case Crumble: Murder on the Equator, Book 3
Sweet Contemporary Romance
Written in the Stars: Starlight Terrace Proposals #1
Bonus Material: The Indomitable Miss Elizabeth
“Lydia, you really must practice your pout in the mirror. When done well, it can be quite alluring. And mind your posture, dear.” Mother clucked her tongue at Lydia, who displayed her immaturity by sticking her tongue out in turn.
Elizabeth could not help but wonder how Mr. Darcy would react had he been there to observe Lydia in all of her impertinent glory. She doubted Miss Darcy, who was nearly the same age as Lydia, would ever resort to crude gestures to express herself to her elders. It struck Elizabeth, as it did at least once a day, how distinct her family was to Mr. Darcy’s, and w
hile she in no way felt inferior to his station (she was, after all, every bit a lady as he was a gentleman), she could not help but hope his regard for her was stronger than the adversities her family would inflict upon them. Time would tell.
Elizabeth was soon distracted from Lydia’s protruding tongue and her own amusing thoughts when Mother turned her attention from her youngest daughter to her eldest — or, rather, to Jane’s cheeks, which she pinched enthusiastically, explaining, “On the chance we happen to see your Mr. Bingley in Meryton … Handsome, young gentlemen of fortune do not want pale wives.”
Coming to Jane’s defense when she observed her dearest sister wince in pain, Elizabeth said, “Mama, do be gentle. You do not want Mr. Bingley to think her feverish either.” To Elizabeth’s relief, Mother dropped her hands and began inspecting her other daughters in the carriage. Elizabeth turned toward the window in the hopes of being overlooked. Mother did not often find much of which to approve where she was concerned.
Kitty, the fourth Bennet daughter, needed no further motherly ministrations and so only received a nod of approval. Kitty was engaged and soon to be married. She only awaited the third and final reading of the banns, and confirmation from her betrothed’s parish, to wed her beloved Officer Denny. Elizabeth was happy for her. Kitty would marry for love.
As for her third daughter, Mary, Mother was not often in the habit of troubling herself over her. She had accepted — a feat miraculous for a mother with five unmarried daughters and the sole ambition to see each of them married well — that perhaps not all of her girls would be so fortunate as to marry. With Jane’s recent success in capturing the eye of Mr. Bingley, Mother appeased herself with the often-vocalized reassurance that one spinster daughter would not entirely ruin the family. Nor would Kitty’s choice of a second son and regimental officer (who lacked sufficient coins to provoke a jingle in his pocket).
