Other Mr. Darcy

by Monica Fairview

  Caroline went to the window and watched as Mr Fallow escorted her down the steps. Louisa draped herself elegantly over his arm and smiled up at him as they walked together and entered the carriage.

  “Well,” she said. “I wonder if Louisa is serious about Mr Fallow.”

  Nobody thought the question of any consequence.

  Instead, Jane and Charles were eager to know what had happened to Robert, and they plied him with questions, all of which he answered with good-natured ease.

  The conversation quickly turned to discussing the wedding. Despite the Bennets’ bereavement, everyone agreed that it should not be postponed too long, and should be planned as soon as possible after the Christmas festivities were over. Neither Caroline nor Robert wished to delay it any more than necessary, for after they were convinced they had lost each other, neither one wished to risk anything coming between them. The date was set for the beginning of February and preparations began.

  In the middle of January everything came to a halt when Colonel Fitzwilliam was sent home from France with a leg wound which threatened to fester. In the general anxiety over his condition, wedding plans were set aside, and there was talk of postponing it. Fortunately he recovered quickly, and the wedding took place at the appointed time. He was so far improved by then that he was seen dancing with a pretty young lady who appeared quite smitten with his uniform.

  All in all the wedding went very well indeed. Only one thing marred the occasion.

  On the day of the wedding they received a long letter from Lydia Wickham in which she expressed her anger at their lack of consideration towards her, and deplored their tactlessness in holding the wedding when they knew she would be unable to attend.

  Chapter 25

  The honeymoon in Wales was shorter than they had planned. After just three weeks, it was interrupted by news from Darcy that a letter had arrived from Boston.

  “Why could he not have just forwarded it?” asked Robert, pacing angrily about the bedchamber. “Now we will have to chase after him, for he says in his letter that they are leaving London and returning to Pemberley.”

  “That is certainly odd,” said Caroline. “I thought they had meant to spend the season in Town.”

  “One can never tell with Fitz,” said Robert.

  “I am certainly aware of that!” said Caroline, her eyes twinkling, but she refrained from adding anything else.

  “So,” said Robert, “which road do you think we should take? The Great North Road?”

  Caroline laughed and shook her head. “Hardly! Not if you wish to find out the content of that letter any time soon.”

  Robert sighed. “Yes, I suppose it would be too circuitous. Though I think I would rather like to go to Stamford. And I am starting to acquire a taste for Stilton cheese.”

  ***

  They did not take the Great North Road, of course. But on the toll road to Warwick they passed a mid-Lent fair.

  “Oh, look!” said Caroline. “Don’t you love fairs?”

  “It does not look quite the equal of our Nottingham Goose fair,” said Robert.

  Caroline, however, had spotted a small fortune teller’s tent that had a familiar look to it, though perhaps, she thought, they all looked much the same.

  “Let us stop,” she cried. “I must have my fortune read.”

  A woman emerged from the tent when they approached it. Caroline felt a strange prickling as the woman’s eyes alighted on her. She knew her immediately, for there was no mistaking those eerie blue eyes and night-black hair. She stepped inside hesitantly.

  She gave her hand to the fortune-teller, who peered at it, then handed it back. “I see you have found yourself,” she said gravely, in the same mysterious voice as before. “Now you will be content. Go, enjoy yourself, before the children come.”

  The woman rose, the interview at an end. Caroline blushed at the thought of children, and moved to generosity, gave her a large coin. The woman pocketed it silently, but a slight smile touched the corner of her mouth.

  ***

  They arrived in Pemberley in the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to draw towards the horizon, and the hills and dales were etched against the sky. Caroline had wished to be mistress of it once, but now she loved it only because it was where she had grown to know Robert.

  “I cannot wait to take you to my estate,” said Robert. “Our estate,” he corrected, with a tender smile. “It is difficult to believe you have not even seen it yet. It is not as grand nor as large as Pemberley, but I think you will approve of it.”

  She smiled. “I would like it, even if it was a hovel,” she said.

  Robert laughed. “Now you go too far, love. If there is one thing I know about you, it is that you would not like to live in a hovel. Alas, I do not value my charms so high. I will not forget how long it took for you to consider me a gentleman.”

  She hid her face in his coat, embarrassed at the reminder. “Must you always throw my words in my teeth?” she asked.

  “Always,” he said, “for that is the only way I can keep the upper hand.”

  The carriage came to a halt. “Come then,” he said. “Let us face whatever news Mr Darcy is concealing from us. He has made us wait long enough for it.”

  The door opened and two footmen emerged. Eliza was framed in the doorway, wearing a pretty sprigged muslin dress with coquelicot ribbons and a Forthe shawl on her shoulders. Behind her Mr Darcy stood, tall and elegant as always.

  Arm in arm, Caroline and Robert walked slowly to the entrance. Despite his nonchalant appearance, Caroline could feel Robert’s tension in the tautness of his arm against hers and the rigidity of his frame.

  “Welcome back to Pemberley,” said Eliza, embracing Caroline warmly.

  “You are looking well, Eliza,” said Caroline. “You have put on some weight, thank heavens, and are much improved since I saw you last.”

  They were obliged to go through all the civilities, though Robert was obviously chafing at the bit, wishing above all to speak to Darcy.

  “Would you like to refresh yourselves?” asked Eliza.

  “No!” Robert’s emphatic statement resonated loudly in the hallway. Realizing that it was too uncivil, he modified it. “No, thank you, Cousin Eliza.”

  “Then we can retire to the drawing room, and I will ring for some tea and cake.”

  “Perhaps the tea can wait,” said Caroline, knowing that with the fuss of bringing in the tea things and the cakes, it would be a while before they could speak privately.

  Mr Darcy threw her an appreciative glance. “Very well,” he said, with his habitual politeness.

  The moment the door of the drawing room closed behind them, Robert spoke. “Fitz, if you please. I will have my letter.”

  Darcy went to the drawer of his desk and opened it, handing him a thick packet of papers.

  “As you can see,” said Darcy, “I could not send you such a large packet, or I would not have interrupted your journey by having you come here for it.”

  Robert nodded. He skimmed over the papers quickly, then sat down to read them in earnest. Caroline, after a quick glance to assure herself it was not bad news, settled down to ask Eliza for news of London.

  The clatter of a horse outside, however, brought their brief conversation to an end. Mr Darcy, going to the window, announced that it was only Mr Bass.

  “I thought he had business in town,” said Eliza. “I am sure Mrs Reynolds told me so when we arrived.”

  “It seems he has returned.”

  Their speculations drew to an end as the door opened and the butler announced the clergyman, who entered quickly. He was beaming.

  “I had just arrived in Kympton when I was informed that you were now once more in Pemberley. It would have been very remiss of me to fail to welcome you back. And, now that I see Mr and Mrs Robert Darcy are here, I am able to offer them my congratulations as well. For to enter the holy state of matrimony is to take a serious step which cannot be undertaken lightly. What God h
as joined together let no man put asunder.”

  Robert, busy with his letter, was forced to put the letter down. He accepted the clergyman’s congratulations graciously.

  “Thank you,” added Caroline, hoping he did not plan to give them a sermon, and wondering if there was a way to distract him.

  Eliza, with a significant look at Caroline, rose to ring for refreshments. Robert returned to reading his letter, and Darcy sat at the escritoire and began to write.

  “Duty requires that I return to the parsonage. However, I would not be so uncivil as to turn down refreshments when they are offered. Even though I have always followed Aristotle’s injunction, thou shouldst eat to live; not live to eat.”

  Mr Bass stayed just long enough to eat two slices of cake, which he praised highly, two lemon tarts, which he pronounced delicious, three biscuits, which he declared his favourites, and one profiterole, which he judged superior to any he had eaten before. These he washed down with three cups of tea, and then stood, apologizing for his discourtesy in leaving so soon.

  Eliza watched the door shut behind him. “How I wish, Fitzwilliam, that Wickham had accepted the living you offered him at Kympton. How different things would have been! Though poor Wickham had no interest in writing sermons, I cannot help but think he would have been a better man for the job. At least we would not have had most of the parishioners asleep during the service.”

  “Had Wickham lived long enough,” said Mr Darcy, “who knows what might have happened? But now we will never know. I always worried he might come to a bad end, but I would not have wished this upon him. To die so young, before he even had the chance to discover the folly of his actions!” Mr Darcy appeared perfectly composed, but Caroline was now familiar enough with him to know he was deeply troubled.

  Robert, who had been too absorbed in his reading to hear the exchange, put down his letter. Caroline tried to ascertain whether his news was good or bad, but failed. She could not wait an instant longer.

  “Oh, pray tell me what has happened? Is it bad news? Has the business foundered?”

  Robert gave a wry smile. “No, no, not at all. In fact, the news is excellent. My brother has managed very well. He has succeeded in negotiating an agreement that will not only save the business, but improve it as well.”

  “That is excellent news!” exclaimed Caroline, at a loss to determine his mood, for he did not seem overjoyed. “At least you need not worry about returning to Boston immediately.”

  “Yes,” said Robert. “This is precisely what these papers are about. They have been drawn up by a solicitor to turn over the business to my brother. Which is the wisest course to take, since none of us knows how long the war between Britain and the United States will last. But I cannot help but mourn the loss of something that I worked very hard to build. Perhaps I am only being selfish, but handing over everything to my brother cuts my ties with my past. I no longer know what my role would be, if I were to return.”

  Caroline wished they were in private, so she could console him. “If the business had foundered,” said Caroline, “then your whole family would have suffered the consequences. So you must rejoice that your brother succeeded so well.”

  Robert nodded and gave her a quick smile. “I am melancholy over nothing,” he said, putting the letters aside and coming to sit next to her on the sofa.

  Darcy cleared his throat. “I had hoped the letter would report some good news, and I am glad to see that it has,” he said. “Because I am afraid I have some possibly unpleasant news to impart.”

  “Oh, my dear, you must not present it that way,” said Eliza. “They will surely not think it such bad news!”

  “The news will impinge upon their future,” said Darcy, thoughtfully. “And they may not receive it well. But I will leave it to you to communicate it.”

  Caroline exchanged a glance with Robert. They waited, tensely, wandering what could possibly make such a difference to them.

  Eliza tried to look earnest, but fell short, as a wide smile illuminated her face. “I am really sorry. I know you might be disappointed, but I am not. I am increasing,” said Eliza, her eyes glowing. “I am carrying a child.”

  All eyes turned towards Robert. But Robert, without the smallest hesitation, came quickly to his feet, his joy evident on his face. He took up Eliza’s hand and kissed it. “I am so very happy for you, Cousin Eliza, and for you, of course, Fitz.”

  “Are you certain you are not upset, Robert?” said Mr Darcy.

  “Why would you expect that of me? You know I wish you and Mrs Darcy well,” said Robert, frowning.

  “I have led you to believe that you will be my heir.”

  “Only in the event of there being no boys. And do you honestly think I care for such a thing? By God! I have enough property to manage as it is.”

  “Caroline might not be quite so happy about it,” said Eliza.

  Caroline, who had held back to assure herself of Robert’s reaction, protested strongly. “Elizabeth,” she said, severely, “I have never heard anything so monstrous in my life!” Then she, too, rose, and went to embrace Eliza, to express concerns about her health, and to wish her well.

  ***

  They emerged from the house as the last rays of sunlight sank down into the earth and dusk began to fall. The lake shivered as the sun touched it, sparkling with joy.

  “I could get used to living here,” said Robert. “But when the war is over, I want you to come to Boston, to meet my family.” There was something wistful in his voice. “I think you will like it there. Although Boston society can be stifling, much as it is here, I cannot but feel that things are freer.” He looked far into the distance, as though if he looked hard enough he could see across the land and ocean to the coast where he had grown up. Caroline made a slight movement, and it brought him to the present. He grimaced. “By the time the war ends, we will probably have a whole brood of children around us,” he said wryly, “and we will be little inclined to embark on a long journey and take them with us.”

  “You do not think the war will last that long, do you?”

  “Who knows?”

  Robert, who was standing beside her, took her hand in his. “You will have to help me settle into English society, at least for now. I am counting on you. In fact, you have before you an impossible task. You will need to help me become a proper gentleman.” She was so intent on what he was saying, it took her a moment to realize that he was teasing her.

  “I am afraid that is not possible,” she said, with mock seriousness. “It is far too late for you to lay claim to such a thing.”

  “In that case, I am free to indulge in completely ungentlemanly behaviour, and kiss my wife in full view of the whole household.”

  He pulled her towards him. She laughed, but then, as she came so close she could see the tiny specks of silver in his azure eyes, eyes that were velvet with love, the laughter died. She closed her eyes, because she wanted nothing to interfere as she leaned her lips towards his.

  When she opened them again, the windows of Pemberley glinted down at them, and it seemed to Caroline that they winked at her.

  The lake, wide and open to the sky, drew her eye, and the world came into focus. “You know,” she said, her voice wobbling like a top that was too slow to stay in balance, “From this angle, the lake does not look so very lop-sided. I suppose it all depends on one’s perspective.”

  He considered the lake that had lain there for countless years, indifferent to the artistic needs of people. “You are right,” he said. “One has to view it from the correct angle. We cannot know where the eye of God lies, but if we stood where He stands, it would be absolutely perfect.”

  “Robert,” said Caroline, glancing uneasily about her, “are you sure you are not being blasphemous?”

  Robert laughed. “I am very glad that after almost a month of being married, I still have the power to shock you. I have not lost my touch then.”

  Caroline threw him a saucy glance. “I can assure yo
u,” she said, without even a hint of bashfulness, “that your touch is quite what it should be.”

  “Mrs Darcy! You must guard your tongue! Such lack of delicacy is very unsuitable for a well-bred lady like you.”

  For a moment, Mrs Drakehill’s face rose before her, speaking those very words, and Caroline wondered if she was still teaching in that exclusive academy, subjecting a whole new group of young ladies to her strictures. She shuddered, and Robert, not knowing her reason, drew her closer.

  “Come, come, my love, I have not upset you, have I?”

  His earnest visage replaced that of Mrs Drakehill, and Caroline quietly dispatched her school-mistress to a dark corner in the attic of her mind, leaving her to lie there and moulder away, to be slowly covered with cobwebs and dust.

  She turned once more to stare over the lake, watching the ripples of the blue water as they rose to lick the sides of the shore.

  “No, I am just thinking how much smaller my world would have been if I had not fallen apart and cried at your feet that first day,” she said, laughter bubbling up inside her.

  He took her hand and tugged it, turning in the direction of the house.

  “It is time for us to move on. We have spent enough time in Pemberley. If you are sure you can tear yourself from Mr Darcy,” he teased, “I would like to take you home.”

  “I could never tear myself away from Mr Darcy,” said Caroline, her eyes brimming with amusement. “For there is only one Mr Darcy, and he is standing next to me.”

  The End

  About the Author

  As a literature professor, Monica Fairview enjoyed teaching students to love reading. But after years of postponing the urge, she finally realized what she really wanted was to write books herself. She lived in Illinois, Los Angeles, Seattle, Texas, Colorado, Oregon, and Boston as a student and professor, and now lives in London.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4