by J Dawn King
“My intention was not to keep you in the dark about my activities, dear Sister.”
“And we are to have an infant at Pemberley not your own.” Finally, Georgiana looked directly at him.
“Yes, little Jem is a good baby who gave me little difficulty during the long journey. To Elizabeth and Mrs. Mansfield, he was not as kind.” Darcy surveyed Georgiana’s countenance for any sign of compassion or empathy. Nothing. He tried again. “My dear girl, you should know that Elizabeth and I will be Jem’s godparents in addition to him being my ward. Thus, he is to be viewed as family.”
The serving of tea stopped conversation. Instead of remaining within, Georgiana said quietly, “With a new wife and a baby, I believe you do not need me any longer.” Standing, she smoothed her skirts, buried her chin deeper towards her chest, and left the room.
He was horrified at his sister’s rudeness in not asking to be excused. What had her new companion been teaching her? Was the woman no better than Georgiana’s former companion, Mrs. Younge, who had been equally as treacherous at Ramsgate as Wickham? Disappointed in Georgiana’s behavior, Darcy stood quickly to follow her and bring her back.
Elizabeth stopped him with a touch. “Allow her time, Will. This is new to her. Plus, these changes that affect our lives will have consequences on hers too.”
He briefly considered her suggestion, nodded, then reseated himself.
Elizabeth turned to their guest. “Abigail, are you quite well?”
“I am slightly overwhelmed by Pemberley, Elizabeth.” Mrs. Mansfield studied the room as she continued. “As I told you in the carriage, I was the youngest of three daughters of a country gentleman, so I have knowledge of how a modest estate is run. However, this...” she gestured towards the large windows. “This exceeds even my imagination.”
“Pemberley is now your home, Abigail. We are pleased you and your son are here. Might I hold him for a while?” Elizabeth lifted Jem from Mrs. Mansfield, then returned to her seat next to Darcy.
He was unsettled with his sister’s reaction but pleased with the two women in the room. The maid who had waited at attention to see that the tea tray was sufficient would, undoubtedly, report back to the kitchen how close Elizabeth and Mrs. Mansfield were. This would serve to establish Jem’s presence as part of the family. Unfortunately, they would also hear about Georgiana.
Refocusing his ire, Darcy wondered at the innkeeper with whom Parker had arranged for the letters to be sent. If Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds had not received theirs, then the rest of the missives had gone undelivered as well. What consequences there would be for this neglect he could only imagine.
Chapter 8
Elizabeth had a letter waiting for her from Jane Bennet and from relatives named Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner. Georgiana had received a missive, apparently from one of her friends from her former school. Darcy held onto Elizabeth’s but made sure a footman delivered Georgiana’s to her immediately. The pile on Darcy’s desk that was his responsibility was so tall it had been placed in three separate stacks by his man of business. Mr. Stilton had worked for the Darcy family for over twenty years, first serving his father and now himself. Darcy could not help but wonder what the man must have imagined seeing those two letters addressed to Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy.
Sorting through the parchments, Darcy easily recognized the one outlined in black. It was from Lord Matlock. Inhaling deeply, he tore open the seal. What was inside was as expected.
Hugh Fitzwilliam, Lord Matlock
Matlock House, London
Darcy,
Your cousin Anne has died along with her son. Richard unwisely chose to leave for the war. Therefore, it is critical that you soon wed a lady from the first circles, a woman of impeccable birth with a lineage and wealth to match the Fitzwilliams. Miss Cecilia Bournemouth should be your choice. Her father is a close associate of mine. I have no doubt your suit would be welcome.
I shall expect your return to London within the week. Anne and the babe have been buried. Two weeks mourning should be sufficient. That extra week would allow us to strategize as to what is most beneficial for the family.
Yours,
Hugh Fitzwilliam
Darcy tossed the note onto the top of the unread piles. Even had he not wed Elizabeth, he would not have bent to his uncle’s demands, for demands they were.
Sir Archibald Bournemouth was reputed to have earned his fortune from the slave trade in the West Indies sugar plantations. His daughter already had two seasons to make a match. So far, none of the gentlemen prospects had shown interest, as her opinions were entirely supportive of furthering her father’s political aspirations. Her greedy ambition would appeal to Lord Matlock.
At a soft knock on the door of his study, Darcy bade the intruder to enter. Instead of a servant or his man of business, Elizabeth peeked her head around the door.
His relief at having her company at Pemberley instead of Miss Cecilia Bournemouth’s was tremendous.
“May I help you, Elizabeth?” He was unsurprised when she boldly entered his private sanctuary, suspecting that from that day forward it would be a far less solitary space than before her arrival.
“Yes, Will.” She moved to sit in the chair in front of his desk.
It was too formal, like it was an inquisition. Standing, he rounded his desk and gestured to a sofa in front of the fire. “Should I ring for tea?”
“No, that will not be necessary.” Settling at one end, she waited for him to be seated to begin. “I find I must offer an apology.”
“You do?” His surprise was genuine.
“For a certainty, sir. My suggestion that Abigail arrive as your mistress so we could recognize Jem as your natural son was entirely inappropriate. I see that now. At the time, I can only claim the weariness of traveling with an infant who abhorred the movement and noise of the carriage as the reason behind my outlandish suggestion.”
Darcy’s brows rose almost to his hairline, the same facial gesture that had happened when she and Mrs. Milfo...no, Mrs. Mansfield, (he knew it was necessary to become accustomed to the change of name) had shared their idea. He had wanted to laugh at them both. Then, he comprehended how little either knew of his true character. Never would he take a mistress. Ever! Close friends and family would not have accepted this reversal of his personal moral code. Therefore, it was easy to reject their plan.
In truth, the ladies were in dire circumstances when they came up with their nefarious plot. That one little baby could unsettle two capable adults was amazing to him. He suspected it would take at least a week for the ladies to recover.
“Elizabeth, I, too, must apologize.”
“You must?”
He adored that little grin lifting the corner of her mouth. Her eyes sparkled as she tilted her head towards him.
“Absolutely. I pushed too hard to arrive. I failed to take into consideration the needs of an infant. As well, I rushed you into marrying me with no explanation until after the fact. That was careless and unkind. Thus, I sincerely offer my deepest apologies.”
“They are accepted without hesitation, sir. Nonetheless, I would like to know, if I am not asking too much, why me? Oh, I know how you responded as we left Longbourn. When I challenged you about your selection of me as wife, you said you could not speak of it then. Can you now?”
He appreciated her directness. As he had determined at the start of their marriage, it would not serve them well to hide anything from each other.
“I will gladly do so if you want to hear the absolute truth.”
“I do.” Swiveling towards him, she folded her hands on her lap and waited as he gathered his thoughts.
“In Richard’s letter he directed me to find a wife as soon as possible, one I could have affection for and one I respected. In the almost five hours it took from Darcy House to the Meryton turnoff, I reviewed every female I could recall as to whether I could live with them for a lifetime or not. Most, like Miss Bingley, were easily rejected. Elizabeth, you cannot
know what it is like to be judged solely by wealth and reputation. Not one of those females would disagree with my opinions in an effort to curry favor. You were like a breath of fresh air. While you stayed at Netherfield Park to care for your sister when she was ill, our debates were noteworthy. I paid close attention to how often you would deliberately take sides in opposition to me for the sole purpose of endeavoring to knock me off my pedestal. Never once did you give me the impression that who I was determined my value. It was the man behind the name you sought to gain knowledge of.”
“I did?” she smirked.
He wanted to kiss that expression right off her mouth. Where had that come from?
Clearing his throat, he answered. “My dear wife, you intrigued me as no other had done. Despite multiple opportunities to become vicious against a perceived opponent, you kept your dignity and calm. Your willingness to devote your energy to caring for a beloved sister in addition to your attempts to rein in your younger ones was attractive to me. By the time I asked you to dance at Bingley’s ball, I was enchanted.”
“You were?” Surprise lit her face.
“Indeed, I was. With that in mind, it was an easy choice for me to offer for you.”
A rosy hue coated her cheeks. “I cannot begin to imagine. Yet, I accept that you believe your explanation.” She smiled, then quieted. “Will, I do know what it is like to be judged, not by what I have as, you know the Bennets have no wealth, but by what we do not have. When females have only their charms to recommend them, gentlemen appear to make a quick determination as to their value as a mate. Typically, the total in the asset column is too small to interest them. In addition, the influence of other less controlled family members can steer a fine man away from potential happiness. Thus, I intimately comprehend what it is like to be judged for anything but the person I am.”
He nodded. Her response unsettled him. Had he not initially determined that her lack of fortune and connections would disqualify her as a potential wife? Certainly, he had. It was only Richard’s letter that helped him realize how unimportant wealth and a titled family really were. He needed and wanted a woman of honor and integrity. In Elizabeth he had achieved his desire.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she lowered her eyes to where her hands were clasped tightly. “Do you know...I need to know, Will. Why did my father agree to your proposal?”
He sighed heavily, having hoped to avoid this conversation for a long time. He should have known she would need to be aware of exactly what happened in her father’s bookroom.
Deciding she was not the only one who needed to be bold, he reached over to rest his hand on hers. Surprised, but pleased, when she turned her palm to his, he laced his fingers through hers.
“My dear wife, rumors were flying around the neighborhood that Longbourn’s payments to the local merchants were in arrears. I first heard the claim the day after we met at the assembly. Bingley had shown interest in Miss Bennet. His sisters had taken note. After Miss Bingley quizzed Netherfield Park’s housekeeper for news of the Bennets’ circumstances, she shared what she had learned with her brother and me.”
“What? How could this be true?” Elizabeth sputtered. “Not one of the merchants have withheld credit when my younger sisters selected ribbons at the haberdashery. The butcher continues to deliver meat. Longbourn’s staff continue to work. I do not understand. Will, my father had the funds from the harvest, which had been good. In addition, the quarterly rents were paid not five weeks ago. You simply cannot be...”
He shook his head slowly from side to side, his gaze never leaving hers. When her eyes filled with tears, he yearned to pull her into his arms and comfort her. Nonetheless, it was too soon.
“I am deeply sorry, Elizabeth. Your father paid most of his household accounts with the income he received. However, he had borrowed a large sum from a money lender four years ago to cover the purchase of a tract of land to the north of your property when it became available. After he bought the land, he discovered there was no water to be had for planting or running livestock. When the crops on your main farm failed that year and the next, he used the money from Mrs. Bennet’s portion for repayment. The money lender was pressing hard to have the debt settled. The source of funds from Longbourn ran dry.”
“Gone? Our portion is gone? There is no money for any of us?” Elizabeth whispered to herself, stunned at the news. Her tears fell freely. “What is to happen to Longbourn? What will happen to my sisters? To my mother, should my father fall ill and die?”
He cleared his throat. Whether or not to tell her all of the details battled with his need to protect her sensibilities. Finally, he recalled his promise to himself not to hide anything from his wife.
“Elizabeth, your father refused Mr. Collins because he had no funds saved. Mr. Bennet suspected that once wed, both you and Mr. Collins would have ended up needing to live at Longbourn, increasing the burden on the estate.”
“But he has a living with your aunt, does he not?”
“He does indeed.” Darcy gently squeezed her fingers. “From the description of Lady Catherine by your father’s cousin, Mr. Bennet easily concluded that she would not appreciate your impertinence, your strong opinions, and your wisdom in separating your husband from the influence of his patroness.”
“I see,” Elizabeth inhaled deeply, then let out her breath slowly. “You came riding in to Longbourn on your white horse with an offer my father could not refuse, am I right?”
He hesitated. This would not make Mr. Bennet look good. Nor himself.
“Tell me,” she demanded, leaning closer to him, her words sharp, her eyes cold.
“Twenty thousand pounds guaranteed me your immediate hand in marriage.”
She sucked in a breath. A sob burst from her lips. Covering her mouth, her eyes pleaded with him to tell her he lied as her body began rocking to gain comfort. Her father had sold her to the highest bidder.
“I am deeply sorry.” While his mind raced to find a comment that could make her understand that he would have done anything within his power to gain her as a wife, his arms knew exactly what to do. Putting a hand on her shoulders, they encouraged her forward. At first, she hesitated. Then, she collapsed onto his chest. Cradling her, feeling the dampness of her sorrow on his cheek, Darcy leaned his temple against her forehead.
He held her until she quieted. Once she hiccupped, then sighed, he allowed his arms to relax so she could draw slightly away. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, her nose was damp, and her lips quivered. She was the most beautiful woman on the planet.
Leaning forward, before his lips tenderly touched hers, he whispered, “I am sorry.”
Chapter 9
Stirred up emotions boiled over until Elizabeth knew not which way was up or down. Reacting without thought, she closed her eyes and kissed him back.
His lips were firm and soft at the same time. They fit her own—perfectly.
Worried about where to place her hands, she clasped them tightly in her lap despite the tingle of her palms that yearned to rest somewhere on him.
Even with her nose stuffy from her crying over learning what her parents had done, she noticed how good he smelled, like clean laundry freshly folded and returned to her room.
It was...well, she had never in her lifetime experienced the like. When the kiss ended, she drew back in time to see his eyes open. His had closed as well.
Looking down, she pondered what had happened.
Her mother had warned her daughters about the power of a kiss before any of them started wearing their hair up. She said not all kisses were equal. Some men’s lips were damp and clammy. Repugnant! Others pressed too hard against your mouth, like they were trying to push the lady to submit by force. Both types of those kisses were to be avoided like the plague. Then she counseled that the ones to watch out for in particular were those males who were gentle, whose lips barely whispered against your own. They were the men whose kisses proclaimed their desire to tease, to taunt, to tantalize. What f
irst may have appeared to be hesitation, was a practiced move to entice.
Mrs. Francine Bennet had blushed at the topic until her face was flushed a deep red. Then she had sighed until she almost swooned before changing the subject.
That same night, Jane and Elizabeth discussed the information in minute detail. They considered the young men they knew, reviewing the shape of their mouths and whether they had a propensity to lick their lips frequently. John Lucas, Charlotte’s brother, was of that sort. His lips were large for a man which made him resemble a fish. When he was excited about a topic of conversation, spittle would gather at the corners of his mouth. No, he would not be a viable candidate for a first kiss. Simon Long had thin lips that were perpetually pressed together in irritation or disapprobation. Both Jane and Elizabeth agreed he would be a ‘pusher’, as their mother had described.
From there, the conversation had gone to what each hoped for their first kiss. Until her marriage, Elizabeth had chosen not to think on the subject much. Jane, on the other hand, had informed her favorite sister on the night of the Meryton assembly when they had met Mr. Bingley and his party that she suspected the host of the Netherfield Park guests would be a gentleman with his expressions of tender affection.
With Mr. Bingley’s interest in Jane, Elizabeth refused to allow her mind to consider what sort of kisser he would be. Mr. Hurst, his brother-in-law, was married, so he too was not to be speculated upon. However, in Elizabeth’s mind, haughty Mr. Darcy would likely be the kind of man to force a woman to bow to his will.
She had been entirely wrong.
No wonder the matrons warned, and propriety dictated, a young lady and gentlemen should not breach protocol by engaging in kisses until the couple was engaged to marry. Elizabeth suspected it would take at least an hour or more, or possibly a day or two, to recover from her husband’s kiss—for her insides to stop quivering and her heart to cease pounding.
