Until today.
Richard was hosting a dinner so his family could be better acquainted with Elizabeth’s. Darcy could not escape the invitation.
He had considered inventing urgent business at Pemberley. Or a sudden illness. Despite Darcy’s abhorrence of disguise, these thoughts held alarming appeal, but finally, he had conceded the necessity of facing the happy couple eventually. Prolonging the inevitable smacked of cowardice—and he had faults enough without adding to them.
Darcy opened his eyes. He might as well be a French nobleman facing the guillotine. Perhaps cowardice had something to recommend it.
His stomach churned sickeningly, and his hands were wet with perspiration inside his gloves. But there was nothing for it. He must go. He willed his feet to climb the steps, one at a time, until he reached the porch, having failed to be struck down by a conveniently timed meteor.
His knock was answered almost immediately by a smartly dressed footman who took Darcy’s coat and ushered him into Richard’s study. Darcy saw no sign of other guests.
Richard glanced up with a smile when Darcy entered. He was seated behind a massive oaken desk, every inch the industrious landowner. “Darcy, good to see you!” He maneuvered around the desk to shake Darcy’s hand and gestured toward to a couple of elegant chairs near the fireplace. “Brandy?” Richard asked. Darcy nodded; spirits could only help him survive the night.
Richard poured two glasses from a crystal decanter and handed one to Darcy before taking his seat. “I am pleased you have the opportunity to see the house,” Richard remarked.
Was that a subtle suggestion that Darcy might have visited sooner? Well, Darcy supposed he would have visited more than once by now were it not for his cousin’s engagement. “It is an elegant residence,” Darcy said. “I hope you are pleased with it.”
“Oh, quite,” Fitzwilliam said. “It is nothing to Darcy House, of course, but far superior to my set of apartments.”
“Indeed.” Darcy admired the room’s large marble fireplace, happy to have a neutral topic of conversation.
“The furnishings are a bit out of fashion, but Elizabeth will have the opportunity to redecorate as she wishes.” Ah, so much for neutrality. Darcy suppressed his flinch at the mention of her name but finished his brandy in one gulp. “Where are the other guests?”
“I invited you here early. I wished to speak with you privately.”
“Oh?” Without waiting for Richard’s assistance, Darcy rose and visited the sideboard to refill his brandy glass.
“About Elizabeth.”
Darcy froze in place. Could his cousin suspect something? He willed himself to act normally, but his hand shook, and he spilled a small puddle of brandy, cursing under his breath.
Richard peered over. “Never mind. The servants will clean.”
Having poured a generous amount of brandy on his second attempt, Darcy gulped, hoping to calm the coil of anxiety in his stomach. He sank back into his seat, regarding his cousin warily.
Richard was rubbing his hands together, gazing absentmindedly at the window. Darcy believed he had been successful in concealing his feelings for Elizabeth, but Richard knew him better than anyone. Perhaps he had guessed.
Darcy stared into the fire. He could do nothing but admit the truth. There was nothing he could say in his own defense, even though such an admission might irreparably damage his friendship with Richard irreparably. Damn! How had they come to this pass? He valued Richard’s friendship above all others.
Finally, Richard sighed heavily. “Elizabeth believes you do not like her.”
“Pardon?” Darcy’s hand jerked, and he almost spilled more brandy. Surely he had not heard aright.
Richard’s expression was somewhat apologetic. “She … believes you do not approve of her family and find fault with her behavior.”
Darcy pulled his gaze from his cousin’s face and stared at the window next to the fireplace, suppressing the temptation to laugh. Only he was in a position to appreciate the irony. “No… I ….” Darcy’s voice was choked. “That is not the case at all.”
“So I told her. I said you disapprove of most people, and even those who meet your approval often see you as proud and distant.”
Darcy grimaced. “I thank you kindly for that endorsement of my character.”
Richard shrugged unapologetically. Darcy rapidly reviewed his carefully stored memories of his conversations with Elizabeth. How had he created such a misimpression?
Unable to look at his cousin, he fixed his eyes on the inch of brandy in his glass. “I do not disapprove of Miss Bennet at all. I believe you have made an excellent choice.” God willing, Richard would never know how excellent. “Her family’s situation is unfortunate and some of her relatives can be … difficult …”
Richard chuckled. “I have been to Longbourn,” he said drily.
Darcy chose each word carefully. “But I believe Miss Bennet to be of superior understanding and excellent conversation. I am often of a taciturn disposition in company, you know this.”
His cousin grinned. “Yes. But I have known you my whole life. Elizabeth believes you spent the greater part of your visit at Rosings staring at her disapprovingly.”
Thank God Richard remained ignorant of the true reason for those stares. That would make the situation intolerable. Well, more intolerable.
Richard stood and used the poker to idly rearrange the logs in the fireplace. It had been unseasonably cold for April, and the room was cooling rapidly as the fire died. “There is more.” Darcy’s gut clenched in apprehension. “Elizabeth’s opinion of you was influenced by lies provided by Wickham during his time in Meryton.”
Darcy let loose an oath, startling his cousin.
He had believed nothing would be worse than the revelation that she thought he disliked her. But now he found that when he thought she flirted and teased him at Rosings, she thought him a blackguard and could not wait to escape his company.
Darcy rubbed his face with one hand. He hated that Elizabeth would give credence to Wickham’s opinion on any topic, particularly himself. Truth be told, Darcy did not like the idea of Wickham breathing the same air as Elizabeth.
Despite being consumed with jealousy, Darcy reflected that he should be grateful she had chosen Richard, who would treat her honorably. At the Netherfield ball, she had appeared to be partial to Wickham; the thought of that alliance could not be borne.
Perhaps he should be grateful that Richard had proposed before Darcy had the opportunity. Apparently, he had saved Darcy from a very embarrassing situation. Somehow the thought was not comforting.
Richard leaned against the mantel, watching the flames dance in the hearth. “I corrected her misapprehension regarding your father’s bequest and Wickham’s dissolute ways, but I said nothing about his imposition on Georgiana. I wanted your permission.”
“Tell her.” Darcy’s voice was a growl. “She should know.” Richard reacted to his vehemence with raised eyebrows. “I do not wish her to harbor any doubts about my character—or Wickham’s perfidy.” Although it hardly signified now, Darcy loathed the idea of Elizabeth thinking ill of him.
“Very well. I shall tell her.”
Darcy seized the opportunity to voice another thought. “I hope Eliz—Miss Bennet will be a friend to Georgiana. She had been so withdrawn. Miss Bennet may be helpful in encouraging Georgiana to socialize in company. She should fully understand Georgiana’s history.” Of course, when Darcy had pictured Elizabeth helping Georgiana, he had imagined them as sisters, but cousins must suffice.
A broad smile spread over Richard’s face. “An excellent suggestion, William! Georgiana only recently arrived from Pemberley, so they have not met. But I believe the acquaintance would be very beneficial to Georgiana. And to Elizabeth as well. Georgiana is one member of our family who might welcome her.”
Darcy nodded his understanding. Fitzwilliam’s letters had indicated how his parents had been unhappy at his rather precipitous choice of a “country miss”
with no fortune. When Richard had refused their request to end the engagement, they had treated Elizabeth with little welcome.
“I hope you can demonstrate to Elizabeth that some of my family does not disapprove of our match.” Richard watched Darcy carefully as he voiced the request.
Darcy suppressed inappropriate laughter; after all, he did disapprove—most strenuously. The irony was so thick it threatened to choke him.
His face must have betrayed this bewildering array of emotions. Richard was regarding him with consternation. “You are my oldest and dearest friend. I hope you can be a friend to my future wife.”
Darcy closed his eyes briefly. If only Richard knew how friendly Darcy could be with Elizabeth! But apparently, he had given a performance worthy of a master thespian.
“I will do everything in my power to support this marriage.” Darcy’s vow was rewarded with a smile that almost made all the pain worthwhile. “I never intended to cause Miss Bennet discomfort and will endeavor to amend my behavior.” The words sounded stiff and formal in Darcy’s ears, but more emotion-laden language might betray too many of his secrets.
Darcy stared at his now-empty glass, wishing he could dare refill it. But there would be wine with dinner and then port after. Getting foxed held some appeal, but he might reveal too much to Richard—or, God forbid, Elizabeth—in an unguarded moment. Instead, he promised himself an evening of dissipation when he was safely home.
“Thank you.” Richard’s tone was warm as he strode over to his cousin and clapped him on the shoulder. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “The other guests will arrive soon.”
Darcy stood, straightening out his waistcoat and cravat. Despite recent events, he could not break the habit of looking his best for Elizabeth.
He followed his cousin to the door, but Richard turned before opening it. “Oh, I seated Elizabeth beside you at dinner, so you will have an opportunity to correct her misimpressions.”
Darcy suppressed a groan. His cousin would have made an excellent medieval torturer. Darcy had anticipated that Elizabeth would sit adjacent to Richard and half a table away from himself. Then Darcy could gaze silently upon his beloved and pretend the smiles she bestowed on his cousin were actually for him.
Richard glanced over his shoulder as they exited the study, expecting a response. Darcy attempted to infuse his tone with enthusiasm. “Excellent.”
The closer they drew to the entrance hall, the more Darcy’s stomach churned with anxiety. Speaking with Richard alone had not been very difficult since the pattern of their friendship had been established since childhood. But seeing Elizabeth …
They arrived in the entrance hall just as the butler opened the door to admit Charles Bingley and his sister Caroline.
Bingley?
Darcy frowned. To Darcy’s knowledge, Richard had never met Bingley. How had this come about?
“Bingley! So glad you could make it!” Richard strode across the entrance hall’s stone floor and gave the other man’s hand a hearty shake. A little bemused, Darcy followed his example.
“I suppose we are a bit early, but no matter!” Bingley’s face had recovered some of the color it had lost over the winter. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Caroline Bingley.” Surprisingly, Bingley’s manner in addressing his sister was cold and brittle. She ignored it, fluttering her eyelashes at both the colonel and Darcy as she curtsied.
Richard smiled amiably as he bowed. “My pleasure, Miss Bingley.”
“Charles said you had become the new master of Hargrave Manor.” Miss Bingley’s smile was excessively ingratiating. As a wealthy landowner, Richard must now warrant her particular attention. Darcy caught the lady giving him a sidelong glance. Perhaps she intended to provoke Darcy’s jealousy, but he was quite pleased to share her attentions.
As Miss Bingley and his cousin spoke, Darcy approached Bingley. “Charles, I was not aware you were acquainted with my cousin.”
Bingley smiled widely. “We were not acquainted until a few days ago. I unexpectedly encountered the colonel and Miss Elizabeth out for a stroll near my townhouse.”
Darcy suppressed a smile. Unexpected indeed! Elizabeth had cleverly engineered a meeting between the two men, most likely with the aim of inviting Bingley to this very event. He could only admire her inventiveness. Then a thought struck him forcefully.
“Has Miss Jane Bennet been invited for the evening as well?” Darcy asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I believe so,” Bingley replied. Then he lowered his voice. “She has been staying with relatives in Cheapside these past weeks. Caroline and Louisa visited her, but they concealed Jane’s presence from me.” Bingley regarded his sister coolly. “I am quite put out with Caroline. We had a horrid row and have barely spoken two words together since.”
“Indeed?” Darcy had never known Bingley to bear a grudge.
Darcy hoped Elizabeth’s scheme would repair the damage he himself had wrought to the incipient relationship between Bingley and Jane Bennet. Fortunately, Bingley seemed unaware of Darcy’s role in the sordid affair. Perhaps someday he might confess, but tonight would be difficult enough without the revelation.
The sound of Miss Bingley’s grating laugh echoed off the marble of the entrance hall, drawing the attention of both Darcy and her brother. Without awaiting an invitation, she linked her arm with Richard’s; he appeared startled at the familiarity. “May I say, Mr. Fitzwilliam, it is a delight to spend an evening in company with people of quality and breeding.”
Caroline Bingley slanted a look to Darcy and her brother. Were her words meant as a condemnation of Bingley’s preference for Jane Bennet or the preference she suspected Darcy to hold for Elizabeth? No matter. The evening promised to hold some unpleasant surprises for her. Despite his discomfort, Darcy was cheered by the prospect of such entertainment.
A knock sounded, and Fitzwilliam’s butler glided to the door. The first person through the doorway was Elizabeth. Miss Bingley’s mouth dropped open in shock. Apparently, Bingley had not troubled himself to inform her of the guest list for the evening.
Elizabeth wore a rather simple yellow silk dress with small flowers in her hair. Caroline Bingley, in contrast, sported an au courant orange gown and a large hat bedecked with many plumes. Nevertheless, in Darcy’s eyes, Elizabeth’s very presence illuminated the room as if she cast a golden glow. He would need to remind himself there were indeed other people present in the room.
Elizabeth’s fine eyes, however, were fixed on only one person. “Richard!” Her mouth curved into a lovely smile. Darcy would sacrifice his right arm to see her fix such a gaze upon him just once.
Richard quickly stepped away from Miss Bingley to embrace Elizabeth and kiss her on the cheek, lingering a little longer than was proper. He then took her hand and led her to Miss Bingley. “Miss Bingley, I believe you are acquainted with my betrothed, Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
“B-betrothed?” Miss Bingley stammered. Elizabeth smiled serenely at her, and Darcy had no doubt she was relishing Miss Bingley’s discomfiture as much as he was. The other woman swallowed visibly. “I had not heard. My congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.
Others were entering behind Elizabeth and were divested of coats and hats by Richard’s servants. A portly man and his well-dressed wife were likely Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle from Cheapside. Miss Bingley’s eyes narrowed when Jane Bennet entered, but Bingley was bouncing on his heels with barely contained excitement. The eldest Miss Bennet smiled sweetly in his direction, and with this slight encouragement, he hastened to her side.
Jane Bennet was often considered to be the most beautiful of the Bennet sisters, but Darcy had always found such sentiment incomprehensible. She was pretty enough, but had none of the animation and sparkle that made Elizabeth so utterly irresistible.
Bitterly, he again cursed himself for interfering between Bingley and Elizabeth’s sister. If Bingley had married Jane months ago, perhaps Elizabeth w
ould not have accepted Richard’s offer. After all, the match may have appealed to Elizabeth since it would provide financial stability to her family. However, the shine in Elizabeth’s eyes as she regarded her betrothed suggested she was not motivated solely by concerns about future security. Could she have ever turned such a look in Darcy’s direction? He would never know.
As Elizabeth spoke with her uncle, her curls bounced, and her skin glowed softly in the candlelight. Darcy was mesmerized. How would it feel to touch that silken hair or creamy shoulders …?
Darcy became aware that Elizabeth was carefully noting every word exchanged between Bingley and her sister. But then, as if suddenly aware of his scrutiny, she turned her gaze toward Darcy and gave him a challenging glare. He returned a smile, hoping to convey his approval for Bingley’s attachment to Jane, but this provoked a look of confusion on Elizabeth’s face.
Why would she regard him with such challenge in her eyes? Unless …
With a growing sense of dread, Darcy stepped over to his cousin and drew him away from the others for a private conversation. “Richard, did you perhaps relate to Miss Elizabeth the story of the friend I rescued from an imprudent match?”
His cousin appeared mystified. “Yes, I believe I mentioned it at Rosings one day. Why do you—?” Horrified realization dawned on his features. “Damnation, Darcy, was that Bingley?”
“Yes, and the woman I separated him from was Miss Jane Bennet.” No wonder Elizabeth disliked him!
“Blast! I did not know.”
“The fault is mine. I should never have told the story.” Or done the deed. Even to his ears, his voice sounded dull and defeated. Here was another fault for Elizabeth to lay at his doorstep, and unlike Wickham’s stories, it was all true.
Richard’s brow was furrowed with worry. “I never revealed the friend’s identity since I did not know it.”
“She could not have failed to discern his identity based on the facts of the story,” Darcy replied. Across the room, everyone laughed at some bon mot of Bingley’s. His friend did indeed seem far happier in Jane’s presence.
Pride and Proposals Page 2
