From Admiration to Matrimony

by APRIL FLOYD

  She returned to her conversation with Lady Anne and Jane, sparing glances for the handsome man at the head of the table often enough that little doubt remained in the mind of her hostess.

  Lady Anne glanced to her son and asked the question whose answer she was certain her young guest wished most fervently to know. “William, I wondered if you might consider staying longer at Pemberley this visit? I cannot bear to think of parting so soon.”

  Mr. Darcy considered his mother’s ploy. Her question was clearly a request made sweetly in the presence of their dinner guests where he could not entertain the idea of denying her wishes. He found he did not wish to deny her, for the sadness of her grief lifting was a blessing he could not have foreseen. The added presence of one Elizabeth Bennet, for he could not deny the enticement, settled his decision.

  “Mother, I cannot bear to deny you. I would stay as long as you might require. London can wait.”

  When dinner was done, Lady Anne accepted her son’s arm and stood before her guests. Her voice was tinged with regret as she addressed them. “I have found great joy in your company this evening, but I must retire. It seems my desire for company is tempered by my lack of stamina after all this time alone,” she turned to Elizabeth and nodded, “I shall see you come the morrow, my dear.”

  The same evening, Mr. Bennet sat in his study with his cousin William Collins. The man had come from Hunsford and had yet to take a breath in his endless bout of speeches.

  “Here now, Mr. Collins, the study is a haven from the constant chatter of the ladies of Longbourn. Please, let us reflect upon the matters of the day quietly as we sip a good port.”

  Mr. Collins halted his speech and stared oddly at his host. “Mr. Bennet, surely good conversation with a worthy and amiable guest would serve the same purpose as peace and quiet?”

  Mr. Bennet sighed and poured himself a bit more port than was his habit. “If we must speak, and I strongly suggest we must not, then let it be of the daughter you intend to have for your wife. Though I caution you against any other than Mary. The younger girls are not suited to a life of service and piety.”

  Mr. Collins fell silent at the turn in conversation as he considered the meekest of the five Bennet girls. He would have preferred Elizabeth, though she lived in Derbyshire with Jane and her husband.

  “Mary is a lovely young woman in her manner but Elizabeth would be better suited, I believe. She has surely benefitted from her time with the Bingleys. Lady Catherine did advise me to choose well. Mary might be a bit timid yet to become the wife of a parson with many important duties.”

  Mr. Bennet sighed as he came to see his study would not be the refuge he hoped whilst his cousin was visiting. Elizabeth was the last daughter he would suggest become the man’s wife. However, he knew Mrs. Bennet would demand he write to Lizzy as soon as she knew of his cousin’s desire for her hand in marriage.

  “I would caution against Lizzy if I am honest. She is headstrong and opinionated. And I must admit she is my favorite. She is not one to mold and shape as you wish. I am not sure your patroness would appreciate those traits in any young woman tasked as the wife of her parson.”

  Mr. Collins nodded to his host, a silly smile plastered on his face. “Lady Catherine did mention I ought to choose a wife from one of my cousins here at Longbourn. With the unfortunate entailment hanging over the home, it would be a fair gesture. I admit the portrait of Cousin Elizabeth in the parlor has me intrigued. Your wife believes Cousin Jane to be the fairest of her daughters but I must disagree vehemently. Cousin Elizabeth bests her elder sister easily, if I may be so bold as to say.”

  Mr. Bennet sighed in resignation. He had known his Lizzy would appeal to the man far more than her younger sisters. “Mrs. Bennet will be pleased to know of it. Lizzy can be made to return home but she would not arrive before your visit ends, I fear.”

  The parson stood and excused himself from his cousin’s study. “I am certain Lady Catherine would allow me to come again when cousin Elizabeth has returned home. A marriage partner is an important choice, as you well know Mr. Bennet.”

  Mrs. Bennet frowned as Mr. Collins entered the parlor. She hoped he might spend more time in the study with her husband.

  “Mrs. Bennet, might I sit with you and discuss which of your daughters would be a suitable match?”

  Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands and called for tea. Her disdain for the man set to inherit Longbourn after her husband’s death softened in that moment. “Why, Mr. Collins, I had no notion you might choose one of my girls as your wife. I must say Mary is the one I would suggest as Lydia and Kitty are still young girls.”

  Mr. Collins could see both mother and father were eager to place Mary as a suitable match. He would not consider her now even had he found himself attracted to her. The Bennets did not seem the least concerned with his need of a good wife so much as their own need to see the meek Mary settled.

  “I spoke with Mr. Bennet in the study and he assured me you would likely know better than he which daughter I ought to offer for, but you have chosen Mary as well. I would prefer Cousin Elizabeth for two reasons. As the older girls should be married before their younger sisters, Lady Catherine might be displeased should I choose Mary. I cannot have her sensibilities offended. And as I confided in Mr. Bennet, Cousin Elizabeth has captured me with her beauty.”

  Mr. Collins rose and crossed the room to admire the portrait of Mr. Bennet’s beloved favorite daughter.

  Mrs. Bennet smiled. Of course he would choose Lizzy with Jane already married. The idea had not occurred to her with Lizzy having gone to stay at Brambling. “Mr. Bennet and I would prefer to have Mary settled, but Elizabeth would do as well. I shall have Mr. Bennet write her this afternoon.”

  Mr. Collins nodded and took Mrs. Bennet’s hand. “You have chosen well, dear lady. With your older daughters married, perhaps it will be easier to find a match for Cousin Mary?”

  Chapter 4

  Mr. Darcy entered the parlor several mornings later, pleased to find his mother and Elizabeth seated together. Their heads were bent close as Elizabeth read to Lady Anne.

  He watched for as long as he might without interrupting and smiled as his mother turned to welcome him. “William, do not stand about like a footman. Come sit with us.”

  Elizabeth replaced the ribbon in her book and closed it gently. She was pleased to see Mr. Darcy so early in the day. She imagined he would keep to his library as his mother had indicated was his habit whilst at Pemberley.

  “I wished to know if you and Miss Elizabeth might fancy a walk about the gardens, mother.”

  Lady Anne considered his request and turned to Elizabeth. “Forgive me, dear. I should have known you might wish to walk the grounds. My rose garden is simply divine.”

  Mr. Darcy held out his arm for his mother. The lady smoothed her skirts with a trembling hand. Looking about the room, she breathed deeply and nodded to her son. “I must admit it is a lovely day for a walk in the gardens. I would have my maid come along. If I must return to the house, the two of you may continue on.”

  Elizabeth turned her head and hid her smile at the woman’s matchmaking effort. Mr. Darcy sent for his mother’s maid and led them from the parlor.

  Elizabeth, quite content as Mr. Darcy led them down the garden paths, paid her attention to Lady Anne as the woman regaled her with tales of each section as they walked along. They stopped and stood in the midst of a garden riotous with yellow flowers of every kind.

  Lady Anne clasped her hands behind her back and her voice trembled with a trace of the emotion as she spoke. “My dear George had the gardener plant these beds with such beautiful golden flowers when Georgiana was born. I would like to sit for a time alone.”

  Elizabeth glanced to Mr. Darcy and they quietly left Lady Anne with her maid. Elizabeth walked along, her heart heavy with sorrow for his mother.

  Mr. Darcy spied the sadness that stole the light from her eyes. “You must not worry, Miss Elizabeth. Mother has not been to the ga
rdens since Georgie died. Her grief has bound her for such a long time and now perhaps she may find a way to soothe her pain.”

  Elizabeth turned her head away and wiped at a tear. “My heart is heavy to think of your mother in pain, Mr. Darcy. I know your own is as well, though I would do all I might to share the burden.”

  He stopped and offered her a seat on a bench near the rose garden. Elizabeth lowered her lashes, afraid to meet his eyes.

  He knelt before her and took her hands. “I would never wish such a burden upon you. That your heart wishes to ease our pain is a kindness beyond pity, I assure you. None other of our acquaintance has said as much.”

  Elizabeth met his gaze and her heart raced at the tenderness she found there. “Death rends the bond we treasure even between those left in its wake. I am certain your friends would say the same did they know the comfort it would bring.”

  Mr. Darcy managed a half-hearted smile for her, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “They would not dear one, and your words are all the more precious because of it.”

  He dipped his head and Elizabeth held tighter to his hands. She wished she might caress his cheek or embrace him in his grief but she simply sat with him, fighting her desire to reach out to the great man.

  Mr. Darcy regained his composure and stood, taking her arm and leading her to his mother’s rose garden. There was no doubt in his mind as to his admiration of this gentle woman.

  The scent of the roses beckoned Elizabeth before her eyes spied the varied petals. Their color and number made a glorious display and she paused to fix the moment in her mind. “I have never seen such lovely roses as these. Jane would be delighted to know of them. I shall bring her here another time.”

  Mr. Darcy longed to tuck an errant curl behind her ear and imagined the softness of her skin against the strength of his hand. He must not torture himself so! He launched into a most informative speech on the variety of roses and his mother’s long history of tending them herself.

  “Mother is a great lover of the gardens, her roses in particular. You might not believe me when I say she would come out here many times when we were children and work the soil with her own hands. My father indulged her efforts always, though some of the servants were frightfully afraid their lady did too much.”

  Elizabeth found his story easier to believe than she might have before meeting his mother. “Lady Anne amazes me daily with her interests and talents. I am certain I have never met another gentlewoman as engaging.”

  Mr. Darcy led her away from the roses and back onto the path to rejoin his mother. He hoped her time alone in Georgie’s garden had proven a balm against her grief.

  Lady Anne stood and smiled as they approached. Elizabeth noted the wetness of the woman’s lashes and caught her breath at the knot which rose in her throat. Lady Anne shook her head slightly and took Elizabeth’s hand. “Shall we go in for luncheon? I find myself quite ready for a light meal. It must be the air that has done it.”

  Mr. Darcy took his mother’s arm and the trio left the gardens of Pemberley amid happy birdsong and the rustle of a welcome breeze. Elizabeth turned her gaze to the grandeur of the great house and imagined again spending her days thus with Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne. For the moment, she sighed with great contentment at her situation.

  Recalling her misadventure in the lake caused her to wonder if Lady Anne’s words at dinner those few nights ago were true. A matter of chance had brought her to the water’s edge and released a grieving woman from the shadow of her rooms. The arrival of Mr. Darcy would have gone unnoticed by Elizabeth had she simply navigated the lake with care. Stunning was the difference her actions and adventures had wrought.

  Lady Anne went inside with her maid and Mr. Darcy stood with Elizabeth before the great front doors of Pemberley. His words caused her heart to leap with joy. “Miss Elizabeth, I hope you do not find my question impertinent, but is there a young man in all of Hertfordshire with any claim to your heart?”

  Elizabeth gazed into his eyes for a long while before the whispered words passed her lips. “There is none, Mr. Darcy.”

  Jane exited the carriage in front of Pemberley, the letter from her father secure in her hand. She wished she might have read it but plainly it was meant for Lizzy.

  She worried at the news contained within and her mind was uneasy with thoughts of what their father might have to say. She had grown fond of having her favorite sister at Brambling Hall and hoped she might remain there for years to come, even until she was married.

  The butler welcomed her inside and led her to the salon where Elizabeth played the pianoforte for Lady Anne. Mr. Darcy was in the library attending his correspondence.

  Elizabeth’s hands ceased their effort as Jane approached. “My sister has come as I knew she would, Lady Anne. How lovely Jane! What do you have in your hand?”

  Jane smiled at Lady Anne and went to sit beside her. “It is only a letter from home, Lizzy. Please do play. I would not have you distracted for my sake.”

  Lady Anne took Jane’s hand and nodded to Elizabeth. “Please do continue, my dear. Jane and I shall wait to speak until you have finished.”

  Elizabeth began the piece again, her heart light at the arrival of her sister. The music drew Mr. Darcy from his place in the hall, for he had grown lonesome for her company shut up in the library.

  He entered and stood by the window gazing upon the beauty of Pemberley. He imagined teaching Elizabeth to ride and showing her the wilder heart of Pemberley out past the gardens and fields. He would, of course, once he made his intentions known to her father.

  It did not occur to him that she would not, or perhaps could not, accept his proposal. In his mind they would be married in time.

  He would speak with his mother later but he knew she would be pleased. She had wished for him to marry for some years, and with Georgiana lost to them the time had come for him to open his heart and his home to the beautiful young lady delivered to him by chance.

  Elizabeth finished the piece of music and stood with her hands clasped before her as his mother praised her efforts. “Oh my dear, it is wonderful to have such sweet music in the salon once more. Do come sit with us and see what Jane has brought. William, will you send for tea?”

  Mr. Darcy obeyed his mother’s wish and Elizabeth sat upon the sofa across from Lady Anne and Jane. She glanced at Mr. Darcy as he strode from the room with the butler. She hoped he might return and sit beside her for tea.

  Jane passed the letter to Elizabeth and turned to Lady Anne. “The footman brought it this morning and I wished for Lizzy to have it before I misplaced it. I seem to be more forgetful lately.”

  Elizabeth held the letter and felt her heart pinch at the sight of her father’s hand on the paper. She did indeed miss him and his study. She had no plan to return to Longbourn in the near future, but if she did it would be at his request and before the winter months made travel difficult.

  When Mr. Darcy left for London again, perhaps she would encourage Jane to make the trip with her. Charles had kept the lease upon Netherfield for the time being and she did think perhaps Jane might persuade him to accompany them for a brief visit.

  Mr. Darcy returned and took his seat beside Elizabeth as she hoped. She placed the letter in her skirt pocket. There would be time later, when his mother rested in her rooms, to read it and make her reply. His weight on the sofa, as he sat beside her, caused Elizabeth to wish for his companionship always. He held a letter out for his mother, a frown creasing his brow.

  “I know I promised to stay longer, mother, but I shall have to leave Pemberley to attend to a matter in London. Would you care to accompany me or will you stay here? Richard’s mother would be pleased to have you at Matlock House. She is quite concerned and has said she will travel to Pemberley if I do not bring you to London.”

  Lady Anne considered her son’s request as tea arrived. She had not left Pemberley for some time but she could see the yearning in his eyes for her company. “I suppose Miss Elizabeth w
ould encourage me to accept your request, William, but I would be loath to do so, I admit. I should not have gotten my hopes up that you might stay longer.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, unable to hide her smile at Mr. Darcy’s eagerness for his mother’s acceptance. “I say you must go, Lady Anne. Your family will be most happy to have you in Town and I will be here when you return.”

  Mr. Darcy gazed at Elizabeth, grateful for her encouragement, and took her hand. Jane sipped her tea to hide the smile that threatened at his actions. Lady Anne watched the young couple with an air of approval.

  Miss Elizabeth Bennet would soon become her daughter, she was sure of it, and the thought pleased her so. Never had she admired the women that had gone before. So many of them cared only for the Darcy money, the horrible Miss Bingley came to her mind at this thought. She would speak with William and find his thoughts on the matter. She turned her gaze upon Elizabeth and proclaimed her conditions of surrender.

  “I shall go to London, William, but on the condition we do not tarry for more than a fortnight. Town has never appealed to me greatly.”

  Chapter 5

  Elizabeth walked about the grounds of Pemberley alone after Jane had left for Brambling Hall. Mr. Darcy remained with his mother, and as much as she longed for his presence she would not take him from Lady Anne’s side. There would be time for them to wander Pemberley in the months to come.

  She walked for a time before recalling the letter from Longbourn in her pocket. She spied a log ahead and hurried to sit in the afternoon sun and read the news from her father.

  Again she allowed her eyes to rest upon his handwriting before opening the missive. She dearly loved her family, even her sisters with their constant arguments over ribbons and redcoats. But the pang of loneliness for her father’s company grew sharp in her breast.