by Jann Rowland
When they rode their horses into the yard by the stables, Alexander dismounted and threw the reins to a waiting groom, turning to march into the house. Though Darcy preferred to see to his animal’s disposition himself, on this occasion he followed his brother instead. With a quick word informing Darcy he would join him after changing, Alexander climbed the stairs two at a time and entered the master’s suite, leaving Darcy looking after him, bemused. As he had promised, however, he soon joined Darcy in the study and set his mind to the books, from which Darcy had been educating him since his return to Derbyshire.
“It seems to me the income is stable at about four thousand a year,” said Alexander some time later.
“There has been little fluctuation these past three years at least,” agreed Darcy. “If you oversee the estate personally, I am confident you will increase that number. There is only so much one can do when managing it from a distance, even as near as Pemberley.”
Alexander glanced at Darcy and shook his head. “Perhaps if my talents were at your level I could raise my income, but I have not the abilities you possess. I will endeavor to do what I can, but I suspect four thousand a year is all my future wife can expect.”
His interest aroused at his brother’s words, Darcy said: “Have you thought of taking a wife?”
“Who in our position has not?” asked Alexander.
“I could name some,” said Darcy, considering several ne’er-do-wells, among the many who populated the circles in which they moved.
Alexander shook his head. “Yes, there are many who care for nothing but gratifying their own desires. I hope I have never been among their number, though I will own there was a time when I did not consider my responsibilities as much as I should. In answer to your question, yes, I have considered taking a wife.”
“And what has brought about this change?” asked Darcy.
“Our father calling me back to Pemberley,” replied Alexander with a shrug. “It is obvious why he wished me to return; while I tried to tell myself I was content in London and did not wish to return home, I had become tired of everything in town. The prospect of staying at Thorndell alone, however, seems like a daunting proposition. A wife to keep me company would be just the thing.”
“What of local society?” asked Darcy. “There must be others your age in the neighborhood.”
“That is possible,” conceded Alexander. “But I am unknown to them, and though I am not incapable of making friends, one cannot always be with one’s friends.”
“I suppose that is true,” murmured Darcy. The image of a dark-haired beauty with laughing eyes entered his mind, reminding Darcy with whom he would like to be at this very moment.
“Do you then have a candidate in mind?” said Darcy, tearing his thoughts away from the memory of Elizabeth to his brother.
“Do you?” asked Alexander, directing a pointed look at Darcy. “You are the elder brother and the heir to the Darcy name and most of its holdings. Should you not be considering who the future Mrs. Darcy will be?”
The hairs on the back of Darcy’s neck stood up at this bit of avoidance. Considering his brother’s odd mood, Darcy thought it would be unwise to allow his brother’s question to go unanswered. But if Alexander thought Darcy would release him from the obligation to respond, he was to be disappointed.
“I have given the matter some thought,” said Darcy, “and I shall select a woman when the time comes.”
Alexander snorted with amusement. “That sounds rather clinical, Brother. ‘Selecting a wife’ is not the same as purchasing a horse at an auction. It is expected that a man will woo a woman before making her an offer, though I suppose you could ask Father to negotiate a contract with one of our acquaintances and spare yourself the bother.”
“Thank you for that advice, Alexander,” said Darcy, “but I believe I understand the process. Now, you did not answer my question—do you have a candidate in mind?”
“Like you,” said Alexander, “I imagine I shall choose a woman when the time comes. At present, there is nothing more to say.”
They remained in the study for some more minutes, speaking of various matters of the estate, but Darcy had little attention to give to such matters. His brother’s glibness, the way he had avoided the question and answered in a manner mirroring Darcy’s spoke to intentions Darcy was uncertain he wished to consider. Was Alexander’s connection with Miss Lydia Bennet greater than anyone believed? If so, what did it mean?
“Well,” said his brother after a time of this, “I believe that is enough for today. If you will excuse me, I shall retire to my room until it is time for dinner.”
Dinner was a dull affair, even after one considered the afternoon Darcy spent alternating between reading and napping. Alexander, it seemed, had lost none of his introspection, for their conversation during the meal was desultory. It seemed the brother he knew before his departure for London had been slowly disappearing, especially since their arrival at Thorndell. After a time, Darcy began to long to return to Pemberley, for at least there he would have his cousins, his father and sister, and even his aunt, difficult though she was.
Just after they stood up from dinner, a break in the monotony announced itself when a rider bearing a message arrived at the manor. The butler alerted them to the newcomer, prompting Darcy and Alexander to go to the door in curiosity. There was a man waiting on the step, a young fellow perhaps a few years younger than Darcy himself, wearing no discernable livery, and looking fatigued, as if he had spent the entire day in the saddle. Behind him stood a horse, head down in weariness who matched him in every respect.
“Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?” asked the man when the brothers drew near.
“I am Fitzwilliam Darcy,” said Darcy.
“Then I have a letter for you, sir,” said the man, handing the missive to a startled Darcy. “I was instructed to wait for a response.”
“Of course,” said Darcy. “Is it urgent?”
“I am sorry, sir, but I was only instructed to wait.”
Darcy acknowledged the man, looking to his brother.
Alexander nodded and gestured to the butler. “Please see his mount is stabled and provide him with a room in the servant’s quarters.”
“I shall have a letter ready for your departure in the morning,” said Darcy, thanking the rider for his diligence.
“If it is serious, I can return tonight. But I will require a mount.”
“That should not be necessary, but I shall inform you if it is.”
The man nodded and allowed the butler to lead him away to the servant’s quarters. Darcy was already turning the letter over in his hand. There was no indication as to the sender, for the paper was plain and utilitarian rather than fine, the letters of his name written in a strong, flowing hand, one which Darcy did not recognize.
“Who sent it?” asked Alexander, pulling Darcy from his inspection.
“I do not know,” replied Darcy with an absence of mind.
A momentary thought struck him, that it might be a missive from Mrs. Gardiner concerning her niece, but Darcy did not think the woman wrote in what he took to be a masculine hand. Still, Darcy did not feel confident opening the letter in front of his brother since he did not know what it contained. Thus, he looked up to find Alexander peering at him as if attempting to puzzle him out.
“If you do not mind,” said Darcy, “I believe I shall retire to deal with this.”
Alexander gave him a slow nod. “If you wish. Then I shall see you again in the morning. For myself, I shall also retire.”
The brothers parted at Darcy’s door, Alexander’s rooms being further down the hall. As was his custom in his own rooms, Darcy shed his jacket and untied his cravat, throwing them both over an armchair, knowing Snell would deal with them in the morning. After a moment more turning the letter over in his hands, Darcy chided himself for delaying and broke the seal, to find a short note on the inside of the paper, with another letter enclosed.
Astonished to see i
t was from the parson, Edward Gardiner, Darcy read through the missive, noting the secret of his clandestine meetings with Elizabeth was becoming more widely known. Mr. Gardiner, it seemed, had learned of their meetings and engagement, and had allowed Elizabeth to persuade him to send him her letter, though he admonished he would not allow it again, promising to inform Elizabeth of Darcy’s answer.
Once he had finished reading the parson’s words, Darcy broke the seal on the second letter eagerly, feeling warmth at reading Elizabeth’s words in her own letter. It too was short, but instructive, asking his permission to inform her father of their recent meetings. When Darcy finished reading the letter, it was the work of a moment to consider her request and respond in the affirmative—it would be better if they were open with their families. Darcy was certain of it.
“Elizabeth,” he breathed, holding the letter close, catching a hint of the scent Darcy had come to associate with his beloved. “How I long to see you, my love.”
Without further hesitation, Darcy moved to the desk in the room and pulled out a piece of paper. Mindful of Mr. Gardiner’s restrictions, he addressed the letter to the parson, rather than the man’s niece, instructing him to tell Elizabeth that he supported her in her decision. Darcy also abjured the man to inform his niece that Darcy would return at once to support her, for Darcy was determined they would face their families together. There was an important communication he must make to his own father, the same message Elizabeth would take to hers. The time for hiding had passed.
Chapter XXVIII
“You mean to return to Pemberley?”
The disbelieving note in his brother’s voice caught Darcy’s attention. The impromptu announcement at the breakfast table would be no less than a surprise, mused Darcy. There was nothing to be done, however, so Darcy bent his mind toward placating his brother.
“I do,” replied Darcy. “There is some business I must see to which requires my presence. Little more remains for me to inform you. Full control of the estate is already yours and you are aware of what must be done, so there is no reason for me to stay longer.”
“It was my understanding you would stay for at least a week, maybe two.”
“I offer my apologies, Alexander, but that has now become impossible. Tomorrow morning, at the latest, I shall return to Pemberley. Let us cover those final few subjects before I go—if you require anything, you may write to me.”
Alexander peered at him, his manner faintly suspicious. “Is your sudden need to depart due to the letter you received last night? Did you not dispatch the rider with a response at first light?”
“Yes, I did,” replied Darcy.
“And what is this matter concerning?”
“It is a private matter,” said Darcy, beginning to become annoyed with his brother’s questioning. “It is an issue which is mine alone and does not concern anyone else. Again, I offer my apologies for my need to depart before planned, but it cannot be helped.”
Pursing his lips, Alexander gazed at him. Though Darcy thought his brother might protest further, he seemed to determine there was little need to do so.
“Very well, if you must go, I cannot keep you. There is some correspondence I would like to attend to this morning—perhaps we should meet in the study in an hour to discuss whatever subjects you feel my knowledge is inadequate?”
“It is not a matter of inadequacy, Alexander,” said Darcy. “There is nothing lacking in your capabilities—of that I have little doubt. If there are further questions you wish to ask me, then I am at your disposal.”
“Then let us meet in an hour.”
“Very well,” said Darcy. “As I have already instructed my man to prepare, I shall depart for a short ride and attend you in the study.”
With those words, Darcy rose, never noting his brother’s intense look at he strode from the room. Darcy was, instead, considering the journey the following day, mulling over what he would say to his father. Darcy knew his letter to Elizabeth would reach her some time that afternoon in the hours preceding dinner. When she informed her father of their activities, Darcy thought it a possibility the baron would speak to his father. Given the expected timeline, it would be best if Darcy could leave for Pemberley that day, but he would not abandon his brother without ensuring he was armed with everything he needed to manage his estate. In the meantime, a short ride would help him work off excess energy and prevent him from rushing off to Pemberley.
Though knowing word could not come earlier, Elizabeth waited with bated breath the following day for William’s response. Aunt Madeline, who watched her with some amusement throughout that day, seemed content to leave her alone, though she pressed Elizabeth to play with the children whenever Elizabeth’s patience seemed to be at an end. As it distracted her from waiting at the window, Elizabeth consented.
When, at length, the rider appeared, Elizabeth used every bit of restraint to refrain from confronting him and demanding the letter. Her aunt did not miss her eagerness.
“Edward will inform you of the contents, Lizzy,” said she, her voice colored with amusement. “I had not thought my favorite niece was so lacking in patience—this day has been educational.”
Elizabeth managed a sickly smile at her aunt’s quip, which set Aunt Madeline to further laughter. It was not mean-spirited, but still, Elizabeth chafed at the delay, worried for what William would say to her. When her uncle entered the room, she jumped to her feet, her anticipation not allowing her to sit still.
“It seems you have noted Peter’s return,” said her uncle, his dry tone setting his wife to laughter.
“If she has been away from the window for two minutes all afternoon I have not seen it,” said she, throwing a fond smile at Elizabeth.
“Yes, I can imagine your eagerness to hear from your lover.” Uncle Edward paused and fixed Elizabeth with a look more serious than his previous jovial tone. “Mr. Darcy has returned our joint letter. In it, he gives his full consent to your plan to inform your father, and asks me to further relate that he will return at once.”
“At once?” asked Elizabeth. “Then why did he not come here and inform you himself?”
“Do you think I understand the working of the minds of these great men?” asked her uncle, a hint of amusement again appearing in his tone. “If I were to guess, Mr. Darcy considers it his duty to ensure his brother knows what he is about at his estate. I can also conjecture his thoughts are bent toward his own father and how your father might inform him when you tell him of your recent activities.”
Elizabeth had not considered this possibility, and she wrung her hands in dismay. “Perhaps I should wait for his return, then. I would not wish to make matters difficult with his father.”
“Lizzy,” said Uncle Edward, interrupting her fretting. “It is my advice to you to return to Longbourn and inform Lord Arundel as per your previous plan. Let Mr. Darcy worry about his father—if you wish, you might even ask Lord Arundel to delay before informing him.”
“Yes, I suppose that is best,” said Elizabeth.
“Then you should return to Longbourn, my dear,” said Aunt Madeline. “I had your horse readied as soon as I spied the rider, so you should be ready to go in minutes.”
“Thank you, Aunt Madeline,” said Elizabeth, embracing her aunt, an affectionate action which Mrs. Gardiner returned tenfold. “And you, Uncle Edward. I cannot begin to express my appreciation for all you have done to assist.”
“There is no price on our aid,” said Uncle Edward. “If you wish to repay us, please do so in speaking the truth to your father and finding happiness with your young man.”
“Thank you,” whispered Elizabeth. “I shall do my utmost to follow your wise instruction.”
When Darcy walked into the study at the appointed time, it was to the sight of a stony-faced brother, one who was glaring at him as he had not since they were boys caught in some fisticuffs. Pausing as he entered, Darcy wondered what might have angered his brother. Then he caught sight of a familiar p
iece of folded paper on the desk to Alexander’s right.
Darcy stalked forward and snatched the paper from the desk. His brother rose to face him, his manner even unfriendlier than it had been before, and Darcy noted the flexing of his hand into a fist, a sure sign Alexander was angry.
“What right do you have to peer into my private affairs?” demanded Darcy.
“The right of a brother who has endured attacks from one engaged in nothing less than the same behavior.”
“The same behavior,” said Darcy, his reply laced with contempt. “Though I cannot say just what manner of silliness has provoked your actions, I cannot think it was anything like mine.”
“Oh? Then please, illuminate my understanding, since I am so unworthy and unintelligent as to misunderstand. Given the missive you received last night, it seems to me you have been meeting with a woman—the sister of the woman I have been accused of misusing, no less. These meetings, I might add, have been so frequent as to lead you to the belief you are in love with her, sufficient to result in a proposal. How can you say that your behavior has differed from mine?”
Alexander’s chest was heaving as if caught in the grip of some great emotion, his indignation bringing him to greater heights of fury. The accusing glare and continued flexing of his hand suggested he was on the verge of physical violence. It was this, more than any thought of his own culpability—which Darcy possessed—that led him to attempt a more conciliatory tone.
“Do you love Miss Lydia, Alexander?”
“You think I do not.”
“I have seen no evidence of it, but I will not pass judgment. Yes, I confess to meeting with Elizabeth in secret, but I also declare that my heart has been engaged from almost the first.”
