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Other Mr. Darcy

Page 13

by Monica Fairview


  A twinkle came into Eliza’s eyes, and with it a touch of colour to her cheeks. “Come, Caroline! What is this Mrs Darcy business? You have always addressed me by my first name. As for fatiguing me, on the contrary, I am so sick of lying in bed looking up at the ceiling. Believe me, I know every blemish on the walls, every chip in the paint, every speck of dust on the furniture. I am ready to throw out everything in my bedchamber and refurnish the room from scratch.”

  “It is lucky, in that case, Eliza,” said Louisa, “that you have a wealthy husband.”

  Caroline shot Louisa a dark look. The visit was doomed to disaster if Louisa could not control her tongue.

  “I would not advise it, Eliza,” said Caroline brightly, trying to make light of the tasteless remark. “You look too tired to undertake such a thing now. You may choose colours that appeal to you at the moment, just to be contrary, only to find you dislike them intensely later on.”

  “Oh,” said Eliza, “You need not worry that I will be doing anything so foolhardy. I was not serious. I was simply giving vent to my frustration. I dislike being idle, you see,” she said.

  “Yes, I recall very well that you think nothing of walking three miles in inclement weather,” said Louisa.

  “Exactly,” said Eliza, smiling. “You know me well.”

  Her smile broadened as Robert Darcy approached. She held out her hand to him. “Robert,” she said, “I am very glad to see you again. I felt very bad that we sent you such a long way to fetch Jane for me. You did not have to go yourself, you know. We could have sent a messenger.”

  He took her hand in his. “If I have helped you feel better, Cousin Elizabeth, then I am content. I can see already that your sister’s presence has been beneficial.”

  “It is good to have you back in any case. I hope you do not plan to rush off to London very soon,” she said.

  “I am at your beck and call, cousin. Your wish is my command,” he replied, raising her hand to his lips.

  Georgiana Darcy entered at that moment, and all attention centred on her. Caroline found her much improved since she last saw her. She had been lanky and awkward but had now developed into a very pleasing young lady.

  “Why, Georgiana!” said Louisa. “I would hardly have recognized you. You have changed so much!”

  “For the better, I hope,” said Georgiana, pertly.

  “You must not fish for compliments,” said Darcy. “It is not polite.”

  “Allow me to disagree,” said Robert Darcy. “She knows she is pretty and wants us to acknowledge it. What is wrong with that?”

  “Thank you, cousin,” said Georgiana. “I am very pleased you have returned, for now I shall receive all the compliments I could possibly hope for. Pray say you are planning to stay, and do not intend to ride back to your home any time soon.”

  “Oh, I would not miss such a gathering for anything,” said Robert Darcy.

  Georgiana clapped her hands. “Good,” she said. “Things will be far merrier now.” She threw a sweeping look around which encompassed everybody. “I am happy to see you all,” she said, graciously. “You are all most welcome.” She abandoned her hostess role as suddenly as she had taken it up. “You will be giving a dance, will you not, Fitz?”

  Louisa looked outraged. “Fitz?” She cast Darcy a questioning glance. “Since when have you called your brother Fitz?”

  Georgiana giggled. “Since Cousin Robert taught me to do it. I will admit that I was terrified the first time. But Fitz just looked at me and threatened to call me Georgie back. I don’t do it all the time,” she admitted shyly, “just when I want to get his attention. So, Brother Fitz, will we have a party?”

  Darcy threw a glance at Eliza. “I very much doubt it, Georgie. Eliza is too fatigued for such an undertaking.”

  “But she would not have to do a thing,” cried Georgiana. “I will arrange it all. And I will enlist the help of everybody. You must let me take charge, brother.”

  Darcy sighed. “What do you think, Eliza?”

  “I think it would be something to look forward to,” she said. “Though I cannot contribute as much as I would wish.”

  “You will not contribute at all,” said Darcy sternly, brooking no argument.

  For a moment, he was like the Mr Darcy Caroline had known. Then he looked at Eliza and she knew he had changed irretrievably.

  ***

  When it was time to go down to dinner, Caroline found herself feeling more tired than she would have expected from such an uneventful journey. Her throat felt as though someone had scrubbed it with a brush, and she was beginning to sound hoarse. It was barely noticeable, but Robert Darcy, who was seated between Georgiana and Louisa, glanced at her sharply as she fell into a fit of coughing.

  “Remind me,” he said, speaking across the table to her. “I have a very potent medicine for chest congestion at my house, something I brought with me from Boston. I will ride over in the morning and bring you some. It is very effective in fighting infection. The recipe is an indigenous one that a friend of mine learned from the Sachem of an Indian tribe.”

  “Oh, how thrilling! Have you encountered any Indians yourself?” said Louisa. “You must tell us all about them.”

  “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have not,” he replied. “There are very few native tribes in the area around Boston, though I believe there are a small number of villages remaining on Nantucket Island and some other far-lying areas. But my friend at Harvard College made a study of their languages, and he is forever braving the wilderness to find them and to learn more about them. I have been fortunate to receive the recipe for this remedy through him. It has saved me and my sisters from illness on countless occasions.”

  “But what are they like? The Indians, I mean,” persisted Louisa.

  “I cannot tell you,” said Mr Robert, smiling. “Perhaps one day you will meet my friend and you can question him all about them.”

  “It would be most unlikely,” said Louisa, “unless you brought him here to visit.”

  “Until the hostilities between us and the Americans are over, no one, not even Robert will be able to travel to Boston,” said Darcy. Eliza was not at the table with them, finding it too tiring to sit up for the whole meal, and Darcy’s manner seemed more withdrawn without her. There was a query in his voice, which his cousin immediately detected.

  “Since I have no way of anticipating when the hostilities will end, I cannot predict my behaviour. But for the moment, I mean to make some improvements on my property, and I do not imagine I will be leaving any time soon.”

  Darcy seemed satisfied by the answer, and the conversation took another direction.

  By and by Charles raised the subject which she had hoped to avoid, for the time being at least. “You have not told me anything about your journey, apart from mentioning your visit to the Loughs. I am all ears. I want to hear everything.”

  A lull in the conversation made everyone look at Caroline, awaiting her answer with interest, with the exception of Robert Darcy, who looked suddenly very interested in his food.

  “There is so much to tell. We stopped at Emelton Hall in Lincolnshire to stay with the Loughs. They are friends of Colonel Fitzwilliam. It was very agreeable,” she replied. “There were many of our acquaintances there, and—”

  Louisa broke in. “I do not know how you can sit there so calmly when I am practically bursting to tell them the news.”

  “What news?” said Jane, looking at Caroline curiously.

  Caroline cast a look of entreaty at Robert Darcy. For a moment, it seemed he would not respond. Then he stood up slowly and, lifting his glass solemnly, he requested everyone to prepare for a toast.

  “I hope you will be happy to share in our news,” he said, his voice filling the room. The silence of anticipation as they listened for his next words stretched Caroline’s nerves to breaking point. “Miss Bingley and I have agreed to become engaged.”

  Pandemonium broke out. The glasses that were poised for a toast wer
e abandoned as everyone tried to question the newly engaged couple at once. Georgiana rushed round the table to embrace Robert Darcy and to plant a kiss on Caroline’s cheek, all the time exclaiming that she could not believe it. Charles scraped back his chair and strode over to Robert Darcy. He slapped him on the shoulder and said that he could not have wished for a better brother-in-law. “Though you could have waited to ask my permission to address her first,” he added.

  A string of protests rose up as the ladies present pointed out that Caroline was of age and did not need his permission to marry, and he raised his hands up in good-natured surrender.

  Jane gave Caroline an affectionate embrace and wished them both as much happiness as she enjoyed with Charles.

  Only one person remained in his seat. Darcy had said nothing since the announcement. His expression was grave, and he observed the two of them with a thoughtful expression.

  The chaos came to an end when Eliza appeared in the doorway, a large woollen shawl wrapped round her shoulders.

  “I heard the noise from my parlour and came to see what was happening,” she said. “Something out of the usual must have occurred to evoke such a reaction.”

  Darcy threw down his napkin and strode quickly to his wife. He led her to a chair, supporting her carefully, and making sure she was comfortable before returning to his seat.

  “Eliza, you will never guess it. Cousin Robert and Caroline are engaged!” cried Georgiana, her eyes sparkling.

  “Is that so?” said Eliza, raising one of her brows. “Well, that is news indeed! I would never have thought it.”

  “Nor would I,” said her husband.

  Something more should be said. Caroline did not think either Mr or Mrs Darcy had received the news with any degree of pleasure. “You have not yet drunk to our health,” she said, seizing upon the first thing that came to her mind.

  The toast that ensued was loud and full of good wishes.

  But to Caroline everything rang hollow. She was plagued by guilt as the implications of what was happening struck her. She should have listened to Robert Darcy. No good would come out of announcing their engagement to their families. There could be nothing but trouble in maintaining the deception.

  More and more she felt herself sinking into a bog, slowly going down and unable to extricate herself, for every move she made seemed only to make matters worse.

  Chapter 10

  She would have continued in this vein, had not salvation come from a completely unexpected source.

  It was late afternoon the next day. The gentlemen had recently returned from grouse shooting, and Caroline was walking idly in the garden when Robert Darcy appeared next to her. A day of activity suited him well, for he seemed quite cheerful, though there was still a watchfulness about him she could not like.

  “I have brought you the medicine I promised,” he said. “Though I can see now that you do not need it, for you have not coughed yet.”

  “You do not mean to say you rode to your home to fetch it!” exclaimed Caroline. “Oh, you are very obliging.”

  “I promised you I would bring it, and it would not do at all to neglect my betrothed,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye.

  “Oh, do not speak of that, please! I am truly exhausted trying to find the best way to extract myself from this coil.”

  “Then let matters rest for the moment. I am sure an answer will come, once you cease to worry over it so much. Have you not noticed it is always so? No sooner do you put a problem aside than a solution occurs to you. For now, let us simply enjoy this crisp autumn day. I love nothing more than the yellows and browns of the leaves. Though I admit I miss the bright red of the maples at home. Autumn is the best season of the year in Boston. The colours are unmatched anywhere else, I believe.”

  Caroline surveyed the trees. She was too much a town person to pay much attention to nature, but as she examined the leaves the sun began to sink towards the horizon, and she suddenly saw the scene with eyes of an artist. The landscape was awash with colour. The sky was tinted with purple and red, the trees shimmered with yellow, and the green grass was dotted with leaves of orange and brown. She was a proficient painter, and it occurred to her that she would like to capture such a moment on canvas.

  “It is quite perfect,” she said. “Mr Darcy has arranged his gardens very well, has he not? I admit that William Kent’s style of gardening has something to be said for it. Was it not he who said “Nature abhors a straight line”?”

  “I could not say, Miss Bingley. I bow to your superior knowledge.”

  “Still, I cannot help feeling that if Mr Darcy’s father had placed the lake a little more to the right, more in line with the house, the effect would have been more pleasing. But then, I follow rather old-fashioned ideals of landscaping. I have always favoured symmetrical French gardens. I find the structure and order more satisfying than the effects of wilderness that are currently in mode.”

  “You are joking, are you not? About the lake, I mean.”

  “Joking?” For a moment her mind was a blank. Then she concluded he was mocking her taste. “I told you I was behind the times,” she said, defensively. “My father had a French designer brought in from Paris to set up the gardens at our home. That was when I was still a child. But I remember it very clearly. I loved the way everything was laid out—the sculpted hedges, the intersecting lines, the fountain dancing in the centre. I could not imagine anything more perfect.”

  “I was not questioning your taste, Miss Bingley. You were in earnest, then, about the lake.”

  Something was evading her, she was sure. If only she could determine what it was.

  Robert Darcy turned to her, his eyes glittering with mirth. “I am sorry, Miss Bingley, but I fear I must explain. You will hardly credit it, I know, but what you are looking at is a natural lake.”

  “A natural lake? On Mr Darcy’s grounds?”

  “I am afraid it is true.”

  She contemplated the idea. “How extraordinary! I would not have thought it.”

  “Our Darcy, it appears, has hidden aspects to his character.”

  “Well,” she said, blinking, as though expecting the offending lake to disappear from view. It did not. “No wonder it is lopsided.”

  Mr Robert threw back his head and laughed, very loudly.

  His laughter was infectious enough that she laughed with him, without really knowing why.

  At that moment a carriage came tearing up the driveway. Its alarming speed did not bode well, and without a backward glance, Caroline hurried towards the house. The instant the carriage stopped, the door flew open and to her complete surprise Lydia Wickham jumped out. She paused briefly when she saw Caroline. “Oh, where is my sister? Where is Lizzy?” she cried. And with that she hurried into the house.

  Caroline, seeing the astonishment in Robert Darcy’s eyes, enlightened him. “That is Lydia, Eliza’s sister. She did not attend Mr Darcy’s wedding, so you must not have met her.”

  “I did not stay long enough at the wedding to meet anyone. I was called away too suddenly. But I thank you for enlightening me.”

  They hastened after her, wondering what could have brought her there in such a desperate state. No sooner had Lydia reached the parlour when she ran in and threw herself into Jane’s arms.

  “Oh, Jane! Where is Lizzy?” she sobbed, loudly, “I am so unhappy!”

  Caroline, feeling like an intruder, entered the parlour, followed by Robert Darcy. She sat next to Georgiana on the sofa and struggled to make sense of the incoherent explanation Lydia poured into her sister’s ears.

  Jane patted her sister on the back and handed her a handkerchief. “I cannot understand a word you are saying,” she said, soothingly. “Come now. Calm down a little and then you can tell us everything. And if you wait I will send for Eliza, so you need not tell the same story twice.”

  She was interrupted by a discreet cough from the butler, who announced in the manner of one giving a rebuke: “Mrs Eleanor Miles. Captain
George Trewson.”

  Lydia, whose sobbing had obscured the butler’s proclamation, was instantly forgotten the moment her companions entered the room.

  Caroline almost gaped at the vision in front of her. Mrs Miles was by far one of the most beautiful young ladies she had ever seen. She floated forward with an elegance that every woman must envy. She was a tall vision of loveliness in a pale green dress, beautifully cut and at the height of fashion, bordered with layers of intricate lace. Behind her, Captain Trewson, in his red regimentals, was no less a striking figure. No statue of Adonis that she had seen matched the perfection of his features. The neatness of his attire and the shine of his boots would have put Beau Brummel to shame.

  “Forgive us,” said Mrs Miles, in a musical voice. “We had not meant to intrude on you like this. My brother and I planned to stay the night at an inn, and send a message to announce our arrival, but Mrs Wickham would not hear of it. And truth be told, we preferred to see that she was settled in safely before going on our way.”

  There was an immediate chorus of objection, which came as much from the gentlemen as from the ladies. Louisa was eying Captain Trewson as if he was a confection she planned to eat. Georgiana was gaping up at him with a young girl’s love-struck expression, and even Jane seemed not to be able to tear her eyes away.

  Meanwhile, Charles, who had been writing a letter, rose to fetch Mrs Miles a cushion, and Robert Darcy hovered behind her seat.

  “You must not think of staying at an inn,” said Darcy, entering with Eliza. “None of the inns hereabouts is of a very high standard. They are all either draughty or prone to infestation.”

  “Yes, you must indeed stay,” said Eliza. “If you are friends of Lydia’s, we would hardly turn you away from our doorstep.” She smiled as Captain Trewson bowed exquisitely to her.

  “Mrs Darcy is most kind,” said Captain Trewson, in a voice with rich melodious tones that had a soothing effect on Caroline’s nerves. “We would be happy to take advantage of your hospitality. We will be leaving tomorrow, however. My sister and I would not dream of trespassing on such a cosy family gathering.”

 

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