Darcy Meets Elizabeth In Kentucky

by Glenna Mason

  As Elizabeth swirled around the room in Darcy's arms, she noticed Claire in one of the small groups that had gathered to admire their display. Claire stared at them with an expression of pure malevolence.

  Involuntarily Elizabeth shivered.

  “Are you chilly, my love?” Darcy inquired. “I was just about to dance through that wall of French doors out onto that veranda to complete our dance. Then maybe the other couples will regain the floor. Otherwise the ladies are going to be upset. Men, of course, almost always look for an excuse not to dance.”

  He smiled, his head moving casually toward the open doorway.

  “I'm not cold, Fitzwilliam. Someone just walked on my grave.”

  He frowned.

  “Claire.”

  “Then by all means we exit,” Darcy decided, gliding skillfully through the doors, never losing a beat in the dance step.

  Outside Darcy slowed down the exuberant waltz, holding Elizabeth close and swaying to the music. The music switched to “Night and Day.”

  “Your sister is beautiful and so sweet. And I am so glad to finally to have a chance to get to know Charles’ sister. I have heard so much about her flamboyant style. And it is obvious at once that Richard is the son of an earl – what grace. I found Gilbert totally charming with his tales of your childhood in Lancaster. What an addition to an already perfect evening to meet your four best friends.”

  When the pair returned to the hall, Darcy noticed that it was close to eleven o'clock. He decided it was time for his surprise. Everyone should be here by now. Darcy signaled the conductor and the orchestra performed a dramatic drum roll.

  He escorted Elizabeth up the orchestra riser. He confidently grabbed the microphone. Darcy definitely had the room's attention now.

  “Welcome, everyone, and thank you for coming to help me celebrate being the happiest man alive.”

  Everyone clapped and cheered.

  “I have a special message for the beautiful Elizabeth and Cole Porter wrote it for me. Darcy took Elizabeth's hand and began to sing, “You Do Something to Me.”

  Cheers erupted. Clapping and bravos resounded.

  Tears streamed down Elizabeth’s face.

  “My love.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve ruined my make-up.” She kissed him. More cheers.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  About midnight, Sir William sought out Darcy and asked Darcy to join him in the library for about fifteen minutes. Darcy gladly acquiesced, turning Elizabeth over to Charles and Jane. When Darcy entered the library, fifteen or so distinguished men in tails burst into “For He's A Jolly Good Fellow.” Sir William handed Darcy a generous tumbler of cognac and then proceeded to introduce Darcy to the others. Soon Darcy was enthusiastically shaking the hands of the owners that he had recently “shaken down” in his money scheme, plus Rene Chevalier, Count Dumont and Marquis Jean Marie De Pres.

  “Glad to meet you. You know a good horse when you see one, young man,” joked one of the owners, with a rambunctious laugh.

  Carlisle Harris of Lancaster, already an acquaintance and a distant cousin, clasped Darcy's hand in his and shook it warmly responding, “I understand, Darcy, you almost came to me. I would have just sent you on your way, my boy—to Sir William. The money was already in the pipe by then.”

  “We'll dine soon at Pemberley,” Darcy invited. “I want you and Grace to get to know Elizabeth. You'll love her, Carlisle.”

  “Beautiful woman, my boy.”

  All down the line, hearty handshakes and congratulations on his marriage. Darcy then raised his glass and toasted, “To new friends and old” with a nod in the direction of Carlisle Harris. “I apologize again for the circumstances that brought us together the first time, but I am most appreciative that you are here tonight in forgiveness and friendship.”

  “My dear fellow,” responded Gage's uncle from Paris, Richard Lindsey, “we love your audacity in doing something worthwhile in such a grandiloquent manner. None of the rest of us would have had the nerve, although we would like to think we are potential Robin Hoods for the horses of this world.”

  “Not enough balls!” rejoined another with a loud guffaw.

  Another nailed it with, “You got us to do what we should have done voluntarily a long time ago.”

  Finally the owner from Lexington acknowledged in an imperious voice, “Please accept my best wishes on your wedding to one of thoroughbred racing's most prized fillies. Elizabeth Bennet is a stakes winner on all of our racing forms.”

  All toast “To Elizabeth!”

  Sir William refilled everyone's snifter. Then he raised his glass. “Here's to future friendship. All is forgiven, Darcy. You are one of us now! Believe it!” They all toasted and drank to Darcy.

  “And here is to the benevolent leaders of Kentucky's finest industry!” returned Darcy in his own toast.

  They all drank to themselves.

  “And now,” announced Sir William, “I must get Darcy back to his bride. I promised the new Mrs. Darcy I'd only keep him for a few minutes. And I must get back to my other guests.” Sir William grabbed Darcy by the elbow and steered him to the door. Sir William turned back to the room and said sardonically, “By all means, gentlemen, continue to avail yourself of my cognac as long as you wish. I can afford it, you know.” With that he sailed Darcy out the door.

  “Well, my dear boy, you are one of the gang now. We all admire you and your verve. All in all we are not a bad lot.”

  “Indeed you are not, Sir William. And thank you.” Darcy then brazenly embraced Sir William with one of his most energetic bear hugs.

  “Enough, my young friend,” Sir William finally gasped. “Now find your bride. Oh, and by the way, I saw your beautiful mother wear those sapphires. They are exquisite, as was she.” Sir William smiled, patted Darcy on the arm and walked away.

  Darcy re-entered the main hall and observed Elizabeth dancing with one of the gentlemen he had been introduced to earlier as a fellow professor at Eastern Kentucky University, so he crossed the room to dance with Jane.

  “Oh, please, Fitzwilliam. You dance divinely, and I do like a partner who can carry his own weight,” Jane responded happily, as he escorted her onto the floor.

  “You dance like a princess, Jane. Is dance a required class at medical school?”

  “No, cotillion class, I'm afraid. Mom was adamant that we know the proprieties of socializing as well as the steps of the dances. I do love it so, but Charles—well, Charles needs some lessons.”

  “Perhaps, practice. Couldn't we add a few dance numbers at Monday Night Supper?”

  “Fitzwilliam, what a marvelous idea.”

  Next Darcy danced with Maria, a sweet conversationalist and a light, airy dancer, who was easy to lead. When he returned Maria to Gage, he noticed Claire available, but, stricken, he studiously avoided her eyes. He had no intention, gentlemen to the core though he was, of creating any tension this evening for his special lady, so dancing with Claire Evans would certainly be a mistake. Elizabeth had made it quite clear lately how uncomfortable the poet made her. Darcy's mind raced. Then, still standing by the family table, he had a flash of brilliance.

  “Miss Libby Bell, may I have the honor of the next dance?” her new uncle requested.

  “Oh, please, Uncle Fitzwilliam.”

  Darcy escorted Libby Bell to the floor. Before long they were the center of the dancers' attention, as the friends stood aside to watch Darcy flow around the room with his pretty niece.

  “You are up late tonight, sweetheart,” Darcy said.

  “Yes, and until you came up, I was getting sleepy—bored really. You have made my evening. Everyone is watching us.”

  “I'm glad; you are a lovely dancer.”

  When the dance ended, Darcy requested Millie Kay's hand and the two enjoyed an interlude, swirling around the floor.

  “You look beautiful tonight, Millie Kay. Blue is your color, just like it is Aunt Lizzy's.”

  “Yes,” Milli
e Kay agreed in her bold manner. “We are very alike, Aunt Lizzy and I.”

  “You are indeed, princess.”

  When Darcy escorted Millie Kay back to the table, he was glad to see that Claire was no longer nearby. Hopefully the gesture to his nieces looked like a natural choice and not a purposeful avoidance. Innately a gentleman, Darcy shied away from overt rudeness and understood that making enemies was unnecessary and could even sometimes be quite costly. And Darcy also feared that Claire Evans Carstairs could be a caustic enemy, if incited.

  Darcy next sought out Francine. He hadn't danced with his spectacularly beautiful mother-in-law since early evening, and she was his kind of dancer. Finally after second dances with Minerva, Kitty and Mary, Darcy cut in on Elizabeth as she danced with the marquis.

  “I couldn't wait another minute to hold you in my arms,” he said.

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy, sir, you do talk mighty pretty,” Elizabeth encouraged in an especially effective Southern drawl.

  “I guess I’ll meet Lydia someday,” Darcy said. “And my new nephew, Tommy George.”

  “Of course. Just don’t be in too big a hurry to meet the infamous husband, George Wickham,” Elizabeth concluded. They glided across the floor without a seeming care in the world.

  Yet Sunday morning when Elizabeth walked down the drive way to get the paper, she was distraught to find Chapters Three and Four snuggled in with the Courier Journal. Reflexively her eyes darted down the road left and right to be certain no vehicle was barreling down on her.

  “Oh, no,” was her immediate vocal response.

  Back inside, joining Darcy on the upstairs veranda for coffee, Elizabeth observed, “I am so glad Charlie now has Saturday and Sunday. I could get used to sleeping in until nine-ish.”

  “You were up until three, my darling.”

  Elizabeth laid the newspaper and Claire's manila envelope on the table.

  “What's that?” Darcy asked nonchalantly.

  “Claire's next two chapters.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  “Let me read these two, my love.”

  “No, Fitzwilliam, I do not want to burden you with this. It is my trial and tribulation. I'll live through it.” But would she?

  “Okay, my darling, but remember the offer is open ended. I am happy to assist or replace you. And keep in mind, I have nothing vested in Claire or her husband, as you do.”

  “Thank you. I'll think on it. I did not tell Claire I would read the chapters this century, and I may not,” Elizabeth asserted, as she got up and went over and nestled in Darcy's lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Have I told you today how much I love you?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Does three in the morning count?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Elizabeth stated, a smile of remembrance, crossing her face.

  “What a sensational party!” Darcy exclaimed.

  “The best I've ever attended.”

  “A tribute to Sir William's regard for you.”

  “He outdid even himself,” Elizabeth agreed. “I wonder how much he had to pay that fabulous singer,” she teased.

  “Hmmm.”

  “As you know, I am like family to Sir William. We are all so close.”

  “With most of my family, except for Georgiana and Richard, now in England, I feel blessed to be a part of your extended family.”

  Elizabeth folded her arms around him, and she held him tight and close. Her lips found his in a passionate kiss. He lifted them both up and carried her to the more private confines of their bedroom.

  Later lying with her head on his shoulder, Elizabeth asked. “Now be honest; how many people mistake you for Hugh Grant or Colin Firth?”

  “Well, quite a few mention it, which makes me feel even more British,” he said with a chuckle.

  Elizabeth laughed also and then admitted, “Without the resemblance, the chances are about nil that even the falcon-eyed Tish and her binoculars would have ever identified you.”

  “Then hallelujah! Without the resemblance to the world famous actors, I would still be a lonesome Joe, ordinary horse thief.”

  “Silly,” she replied and swatted him with her pillow. “Darling, the Sunday after Derby passed us by, so today is wedding and reception and honeymoon planning day, my love,” Elizabeth reminded Darcy.

  “Time to flip a coin for the location of the wedding and reception.” Darcy reached into a pile of coins on the bedside table. “I have a nickel right here.

  “You call. I'll flip,” he said.

  “Okay, Didn’t we say heads Bennet house, tails Darcy house?”

  “Agreed!

  Darcy flipped the coin in the air and let it land on the counterpane unmolested.

  “Tails, my darling. Lancaster it is.” Elizabeth said. “Now I'll flip. You call.”

  “For what?” Darcy asked, actually confused.

  “Okay, I'll call. You flip again,” Elizabeth said, her head atilt, a smile broadening across her countenance. “Heads plans the wedding and reception. Tails the honeymoon.”

  “Sounds reasonable except for one thing! Who plans the wedding and reception, if you win the honeymoon?” Darcy inquired, feigning innocence, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “I said flip.”

  Darcy flipped. It landed heads. “I call heads,” stated Elizabeth. Then the two thirty-somethings launched into a full scale grade school pillow fight.

  That afternoon Elizabeth got her list together and requested that Darcy do the same. Elizabeth planned to wear her mother's wedding dress just as Jane had. It was exquisitely beautiful with a long princess like train and a veil encrusted with delicate seed pearls. The two had chosen to have a morning wedding, so Darcy could wear his father's morning coat. The reception would be a brunch/lunch style affair in Pemberley's fragrant, pretty garden.

  The couple had decided on a reasonably small affair of sixty to seventy people. They were, after all, already married, and Sir William had already given them a gala celebration. Simplicity seemed most appropriate. The brunch would be catered so their household staffs could be guests. Drinks would be juleps, mimosas and champagne.

  Darcy had asked Sir William to be his best man, a request which pleased Sir William in a very special way. Jane would be matron of honor, Libby Bell and Millie Kay flower girls and Trey, the ring bearer. Gage and Richard and Gilbert were to be ushers and Dr. Thomas was on board, of course, to give his daughter away. The wedding was basically fashioned as a family affair.

  Elizabeth felt guilty because she had cut her list to the bone, omitting several Pope Road friends she dearly wanted to include, in order to eliminate the need to invite Claire. “Am I crazy or is she?” Elizabeth wondered. She did not tell Darcy her reasons. Husbands did not have to know everything. It was not good for them. She merely explained to him that she wanted a manageable size for his garden. As with most men, for Darcy small and wedding went fine together.

  Lizzy was his wife; that was all that was important to him. He could do without this whole shindig—or support it—Lizzy's choice.

  The couple selected Saturday July 14, giving Darcy plenty of chance to race at the Red Mile harness track in June. That also allowed for a full month in England, Ireland and Scotland before Elizabeth's classes began again right after Labor Day and Darcy's essential training for the Red Mile fall activities commenced soon after.

  Drs. Thomas and Francine Bennet were going to stay in Claysmount for the month of the honeymoon, even moving into the guest room of the big house so the dogs and the cats would not feel deserted and so they could be readily available to assist Charlie and his crew while the couple was abroad.

  Darcy planned the kind of honeymoon that helps dreams come true: a week's ride through Ireland, staying in bed and breakfasts, flanked on both sides by England and Scotland respectively, with visits to his relatives a priority. Mostly planes, trains and horses, hardly a car in evidence.

  July 14 dawned b
right, resplendent with sunshine and heat, potentially a scorcher. “Good thing that this is a morning wedding,” Elizabeth remarked to Jane, whose whole family had stayed in Lancaster Friday night, so that Jane would be available bright and early to assist Elizabeth with the wedding dress.

  Darcy stayed at Richard’s house in Danville Friday night. After a lovely rehearsal dinner, Darcy, Richard and Gilbert drove the short distance to Danville and a little poker game in Richard's basement rec room. The boys had an ongoing poker game; the pot always at ready. The rest of the Fitzwilliams and the Hursts were already in Lancaster for the week-end, visiting Gilbert’s parents, in anticipation of the wedding Saturday morning.

  The guys were delighted to have a little late night bachelor party. “And this way we won't have to fight for a shower, three bath rooms, three showers. Perfect!” Gilbert said.

  So after the dinner and the after dinner drinks, the girls stood on the Pemberley front porch and waved to the retreating car, shouting, “Have fun!”

  “They adore each other,” Louisa remarked, as the boys drove off, already into the bachelor thing.

  “Just like Gilbert and Fitz in high school,” Georgiana remarked.

  “Well, if they oversleep and miss the wedding, it hardly matters,” Elizabeth said. “Fitzwilliam's already stuck with me.” They all burst into gales of laughter and returned to the library for a final glass of wine.

  Jane, dressed in lavender, made her way down to Elizabeth's room at nine on the dot. “Happy second wedding day, my beautiful sister.”

  They got out Elizabeth's dress, which was to be a surprise for Darcy. Elizabeth had even temporarily hidden away the pictures of her mother and Jane in it. She expected a pleasurable response from Darcy, when he observed her at the top of the garden aisle. She wanted to record the reaction and asked the photographer to capture it on film.

  The garden flowers were magnificent. Elizabeth had been resolute in keeping the gardener on top of it during the hot summer, often helping out, by watering and weeding and adding new plants. Their efforts were rewarded; the garden scented the air with natural fragrances and was so bountiful there was no need for any arrangements.