Darcy's Adventures

by Zoë Burton

  His thoughts next turned to his beautiful betrothed. She was everything he could wish for. He wanted to do something special for her, to show her his love. He recalled that when he had researched the symbolism of flowers, he had learned that lavender stood for love and devotion. He was certainly devoted to her, and was very much in love with her. He thought for a while, finally coming to a decision. He knew that lavender was now in bloom, as he had seen some in the gardens at Rosings just recently. He would take her a bouquet made up of the flowers tomorrow. Surely shops here in Town would have them.

  Getting out of his bath and putting on his robe, Darcy went into his dressing room to put on his nightshirt before climbing into his bed. Lying back, hands behind his head with fingers locked, he went over his plan for tomorrow morning, mentally reviewing flower shops he knew. Finally, he gave in to the exhaustion and fell asleep, a smile on his lips.

  At the Gardiner home, Elizabeth had bathed and dressed in her nightclothes, and was sitting in front of the fire in the room she shared with Jane, drying her hair. She and her favorite sister were sharing everything that had happened in the weeks they had been apart.

  “Oh, Lizzy, it is all so romantic! Who would have thought that the reserved Mr Darcy would have such beautiful words inside him?”

  Elizabeth laughed at the dreamy tone of Jane’s voice. “To one who does not know him well, it would be quite the surprise, I’m sure, but having spoken to him almost daily for a month, and learning what was in his heart, I was not at all startled. I was probably too eager to hear his words; I barely waited for him to finish proposing before I accepted.”

  Jane laughed along with her younger sister. “I can easily picture that!”

  “Enough about me, Jane! Tell me what has happened with you. You seem so much happier than you were when I left.”

  With a smile and a blush, Jane looked down at her lap. “Mr Bingley has been to call. No, that is not entirely honest. Let me share with you from the beginning.”

  Taking a deep breath, she began. “The day you left, almost at tea time, Mr Bingley came to call. He had quite a tale to tell, and it was clear that he was distressed. The night of our theatre visit, when we sat in Mr Darcy’s box?” She looked up and seeing Elizabeth’s nod, continued. “That night, after we separated following the performance, Mr Bingley took his sister into his study and asked her about me, and why she had not told him of my being in town. Eventually, after what I understand to be a spectacular argument, he gleaned from her that not only had I been here for weeks, but that I had visited their house. Oh, Lizzy, his anger, even hours after their confrontation, was frightening to behold.”

  Elizabeth got up and sat on the bed next to her sister, reaching for her hand to hold. “And what was the result of this meeting?”

  “He said that he did not sleep a wink that night. He was so upset that he had put his trust in her. He said, right in front of Aunt Gardiner, that he had been on the verge of proposing in Hertfordshire and was angry with himself as much as with her, for if he had not listened to her, he would be a happily married man by now. He then apologized for being so faithless and asked if he might formally court me and try to regain my good opinion. Oh Lizzy, I was so happy!”

  Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “I am happy for you! What else happened?”

  “At first, I told aunt that I would have gladly accepted his hand, but she helped me to see that such an action would have been too impulsive. I must allow him to court me, and question him, and make sure we are compatible and that he can prove himself steady. He must be allowed to assure me that he will not do something like this again. Now that we are courting, I am enjoying this time. He rode to Longbourn, and received Papa’s permission, of course. And since he returned to London, he has visited every day, and we have gone on outings to museums, parks, and the theatre.”

  She paused, not sure how to relate the rest to Elizabeth. It was difficult for tender-hearted Jane to imagine doing such a thing to a sister, regardless of said sister’s actions.

  “He has removed himself from his family’s townhouse and has been staying at Darcy House. He received permission from Mr Darcy the day you left for Kent; Miss Darcy has gone to stay with an aunt and uncle and the house was going to be empty, so it was the perfect solution. He said he can no longer trust Miss Bingley, and while he cannot remove her from his protection, he can leave her to his other sister and her husband. He has not said as much, but I got the impression that he blames Mrs Hurst, as well, for our separation. He insists that his sister marry this season or he will set her up in her own establishment and release her dowry to her. She is of age, and legally, he can do this, it seems.” She looked down at their entwined hands. “He says he does not want her in our house when we marry.” She blushed, “And he says that he will court me for as long as it takes because he does intend to marry me.”

  Elizabeth laughed at this. “Well, I would hope so! And, how long do you intend to make him wait? I was so proud of you at the theatre that night, showing him how you felt! I wanted to cheer!”

  Jane smiled again as her blush deepened. “I felt very uncomfortable, but I needed to know, so I could banish him from my heart completely. I am so glad I did! Who knew it would have such a happy outcome!”

  “And now, perhaps, you might hint to him to move matters further along? Would it not be the happiest thing for us to marry together?”

  “A double wedding? Oh, how exciting! That is a wonderful idea, but perhaps we should ask Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley if they approve of the idea? It would not do to force them into something they did not want.”

  Jane looked up at her sister quickly, then back down. “Of course, Mr Bingley has not yet proposed. But, perhaps, hearing of his friend’s happiness with you will help him along.”

  She looked at Elizabeth out of the corner of her eye with a look on her face that might have passed as a sly smile on anyone less sweet.

  With that, the pair began laughing, eventually doubling over with tears streaming down their cheeks. One would begin to calm and look at the other, and they would begin all over again.

  Soon their hilarity gave way to tiredness and they climbed into the bed and snuggled together, drifting off to sweet dreams of their beloveds.

  The next morning, Darcy was up early. He broke his fast with Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam, the three spending the meal sharing news. He had admitted to Bingley his part in separating him from Miss Bennet, and that he had wrongly believed she did not care for him, the day after the theatre outing. Bingley had been angry, but had been far more forgiving of him that he had been of Miss Bingley. In his words, “I should not have listened to either of you, but her deceit in keeping Jane’s presence in London a secret from me runs far deeper than yours in attempting to convince me that she had no feelings for me. You did not know Jane was in London; Caroline did, and she kept it from me. Worse, she insulted the woman I love and to whom she was acting as a friend! What kind of person does that? I certainly do not need that in my life!”

  Now that weeks had passed, Bingley was still angry with his sister, and determined to keep a distance between them. Darcy understood his feelings very well. He offered his support unconditionally.

  After eating and as soon as he knew the shops would be open, he went out looking for a bouquet of lavender. By the time it was acceptable to call, he had found his flowers and had bought all the shop had. He had the stems wrapped in a wide white ribbon, and held the large bunch very carefully as he exited the shop and climbed into his carriage. Telling the footman his destination, he settled in as the door was shut, maintaining his hold on the precious gift. It would not do for his Elizabeth to receive anything that was not as perfect as he could make it.

  A half hour later, his arms aching a bit from his careful hold on the flowers, Darcy exited his carriage in front of the Gardiners’ house. Soon, he was handing his hat and gloves to the maid who had admitted him and being announced to the family gathered in the drawing room. He was not
surprised to see Bingley already there.

  As he entered, a gasp went up amongst the female occupants of the room at the sight of the huge bouquet. Elizabeth’s hand went up to her mouth. He was declaring to her and everyone in the room his devotion, and she could think of nothing more romantic for such a private man to do.

  He soon stood before her. Bowing, he said, “These are for you, my love. I know from our discussions how fond you are of purple flowers, and I remembered that these particular ones stand for love and devotion.” He smiled at her before continuing, “I wanted to surprise you with a gift, and could not think of anything I thought you might enjoy more.”

  As she curtseyed, then accepted the bouquet into her arms, Elizabeth graced him with a radiant smile. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam. They are beautiful! You made an excellent choice!”

  “Oh Lizzy,” Aunt Gardiner gushed, “what a beautiful bunch of lavender! There are enough blooms to fill several vases…what do you say we divide them up a bit. Some for your chamber, and some for the dining and drawing rooms? I am not sure I have a vase large enough to contain them all.”

  Laughing, Elizabeth agreed. “Yes, Aunt, that sounds like a very good plan.”

  Mrs Gardiner rang the bell for the maid before taking the bouquet. “I will be back shortly. Please, Mr Darcy, have a seat. I will order biscuits and a fresh pot of tea while I am gone.”

  “Thank you, madam,” Darcy replied, before seating himself on the settee next to his betrothed.

  “I say, Darcy, you make it hard on a gentleman to keep up with you. I fear that I may seem to be lacking in courtship skills compared to you,” Bingley teasingly commented to his friend, delighting in the blush that spread over his face as the ladies giggled. “First you propose before I do, then you buy every flower in London to present to your betrothed. I believe I need to get on with things; at the rate you are going, you will be back from the honeymoon before I am able to gather my thoughts.”

  Laughter overtook the room. Even Darcy, as much as he hated being teased, chuckled along. “Perhaps, then, my friend, you should get on with it.”

  “Perhaps I should,” his friend replied, glancing at the object of his affections. “Perhaps I should.”

  Lady Catherine de Bourgh was angry. Her ungrateful, disrespectful, selfish nephew had just left her house after refusing to honor the tacit agreement his mother had made with her. She had never been so insulted in her life. Then to be threatened by him, to be warned off and informed that she would be denied entrance to his homes! She had never realized he could be so disrespectful to his elders. It had to be the influence of that upstart little baggage he had tied himself to. However, she had never been one to be cowed and she refused to start now. This engagement of his must be broken; the marriage must not come to pass.

  Lady Catherine had reasons for insisting on a union between her daughter and the only son of her sister. Firstly, it was desired by herself and her long-dead sibling. Well, her sister had never actually said the words, but Catherine knew in her heart that her dearest Anne would agree with her. That was enough, really. If one looked further, though, if one pushed enough, there were other reasons she needed it to happen. While she did not recognize them as such, all were based in fear.

  Lady Catherine had been a widow for less than two years. Burned into her memory, even more so than the day he died, had been the reading of her husband’s will. That was the day dread and anxiety had taken root in her heart.

  She had married Sir Lewis de Bourgh following her fourth Season. She had just turned two and twenty; he was thirty. It had not been a love match, though it was not arranged, either. The two met at Almack’s, in February of that year. He asked her to dance, she accepted. They continued to meet at other balls and dinners that Season, and it seemed as though they always ended up paired together. They learned enough of each other by the end of April to know that they would be able to forge a life together without either being overly unhappy. So, they married at the end of May in a large, well-attended ceremony fitting for the daughter of an earl.

  Over the many years of their marriage, the two had developed a fondness for each other. There was no strong passion; though neither objected to doing their duty in the marriage bed, and although it was mildly pleasant for both, sparks did not fly between them. Their hearts remained largely untouched, but as neither had ever felt anything different, they were not bothered by it overmuch.

  Lady Catherine had found herself with child seven times over the course of her thirty years with Sir Lewis. Four of those times had ended in miscarriage. Two of her living children had died, including the one son she had birthed. Her daughter Anne, the sickliest child she had borne, was the only one who remained. She loved Anne, as she had loved all her children. Indeed, she had been sent into deeper doldrums with every loss. Each one had been harder to draw herself out of, but she had no choice. By the time Sir Lewis was struck with apoplexy, passing away hours later, Lady Catherine had begun to build walls around her heart to protect herself from more pain. The hardness of those walls was cemented with the reading of the will.

  Sir Lewis’s attorney, Mr Hastings, had traveled to Rosings from London after receiving her letter informing him of her husband’s death and the need to execute his last requests. Upon his arrival, and after gathering everyone together who was required, the attorney had begun reading the words that would change her world forever.

  Sir Lewis had left Rosings to Anne. The De Bourghs had not felt it necessary to entail property away from the female line, and for that she was grateful. What came next caused the shock. She would lose her home upon Anne’s marriage and be forced into the dower house. That was not the worst of it. Her income would be greatly reduced, to just the interest from what remained of her dowry. Not only would she be forced to move to a much smaller abode, but her funds would be cut in half. Lady Catherine had enjoyed the power that being the wife of the highest-ranking gentleman in the area gave her. Without a decent home and funds, she would become a laughing-stock.

  She did not realize it, but she feared being alone and forgotten. She had spent her life being a wife, mother, and the mistress of a grand estate. She knew no other life. That fear gave way to anger, and then to bitterness. She needed to be in control of something, because she felt that her life was becoming unmanageable. Therefore, she began trumpeting as fact the engagement between Anne and the safest choice she had for a son-in-law: her nephew. Oh, she had been telling him for years that he was formed for her daughter, but never with such tenacity and desperation. Now, she began insisting more strongly to Darcy, and mentioning it in front of others who were not family. She needed him to marry Anne so that she would not need to move to the dower house. As a Darcy, her daughter would live at Pemberley, allowing Lady Catherine to remain in the home she had inhabited for longer than any other. She would lose neither status nor standing. She could not guarantee that any other arrangement would have the same happy result.

  Her need for control manifested itself in other ways, as well. She had always been a woman of strong opinions and a strong personality, but she began ordering the lives of her subordinates with ferocious intensity. Of course, with her standing, none could deny her. A few months after Sir Lewis’ death, her rector also passed away, and she chose from among the candidates the most obsequious, easily led clergyman she could find. She attempted the same with her relatives, arranging their affairs, to the extent they would allow her. Hence her loud argument with Darcy.

  All her plans now lay in ruins around her. She did not intend for Darcy to ever marry Miss Bennet. Regardless of his words, she would see that if he did not intend to marry her daughter, he would marry no one.

  After much deliberation, Lady Catherine decided the most expeditious method of removing Miss Elizabeth Bennet from her nephew’s life was to approach her father. It would not do for Darcy to break the engagement; that would damage his reputation. No, her family would have to do it. She knew already that Longbourn was small, and she kne
w that it was entailed to her rector. What would induce him to force his daughter to give Darcy up, she wondered.

  She could offer him money, of course. She considered various amounts, deciding upon a maximum limit to go along with the first bid. She was willing to negotiate, to a certain point.

  Money was not the only thing she could use to entice the man into letting her nephew go. She could offer a piece of property or a house that he could set aside for his wife and daughters after he was gone. However, she did not own property in Hertfordshire and she certainly did not want Bennets living in Kent near her. No, money was the thing. No man would turn down such a generous sum as she was prepared to offer.

  Once her course was decided upon, Lady Catherine wasted no time in setting out to follow it. Early the very next morning, just as the sun began to peek over the horizon, she ordered her carriage and headed for Longbourn,. She instructed her coachman to go through Essex rather than take the post road to London. She would stop there on her way back; until she had made Mr Bennet see reason, she would avoid Town and her relatives there.

  The roads were rutted, making for a long journey. She finally arrived at her destination in mid-afternoon, hungry, tired, and dusty, but determined to have her way. She descended from the coach in high dudgeon.

  Knocking upon the door, she was greeted by what she assumed was the housekeeper. In her imperious manner, she demanded, “I am Lady Catherine De Bourgh. I need to speak to Mr Bennet immediately. Take me to him.”

  The servant let her in, saying, “Please wait here, madam, while I see if Mr Bennet is at home.”

  “No!” Lady Catherine thundered. “I will not wait. You will take me to him now. I will brook no disobedience!”

  Jumping a bit at the lady’s booming exclamation, Hill began sidling toward the master’s bookroom. When the lady made to follow her and refused once again to wait, she shrugged her shoulders and continued across the vestibule, finally knocking on his door. When he bid her enter, she opened the door, curtseyed, and announced his visitor.