by Zoë Burton
Mr. Collins had returned to the estate he was to inherit the day before the wedding, full of the news that his esteemed patroness’ daughter had defied her mother and gotten herself betrothed to a local man, and that when Lady Catherine received the additional intelligence that the nephew she had pinned her hopes on was engaged to wed a young woman no one had ever heard of, she was overset and refused to see anyone, including her rector. In fact, the great lady ordered him to return to Hertfordshire to inform her nephew of her displeasure. Darcy took this in stride, knowing his aunt’s tendency toward the dramatic. He assured Mr. Collins that once she was recovered from her shock, Lady Catherine would likely demand he return to his parish immediately and that in the unlikely event she did not, Darcy himself would assist him in locating a new one. The exceedingly grateful Collins spent the rest of the day in obeisance to him.
His obsequiousness did not stop until Darcy rather forcefully ordered him to cease his praises for the duration of the wedding celebration. Mr. Collins began to back away, bowing several times. Not having eyes in the back of his head, he was not able to watch where he was going, and unbeknownst to him, Miss Jennings was staggering in his direction. When he finally turned around, he ran into her, causing them both to fall to the floor. The instinctive response of each was to grab for something to hold on to, which in this case was the clothing of the other person. Mr. Collins’ height and weight caused him to fall rather heavily, pulling the inebriated Miss Jennings on top of him, but not before ripping the bodice of her dress in two, exposing parts of her that would normally remain covered. To add insult to injury, when the lady landed, her bosom and its exposed bits were in his face, causing in his person a rather ungentlemanly reaction. Miss Jennings was pulled off him so quickly, he was unable to hide the prominent evidence of that reaction. It quickly diminished, however, when he was pulled to his feet and the father of the lady presented himself before Mr. Collins, exclaiming the ruination of his daughter at the rector’s hand and demanding it be made right.
So it was that Miss Jennings became Mrs. Collins. Within a month’s time, she had gone from being firmly on the shelf to having her dearest wish fulfilled. She found it hard, after all this time, to quit the sherry, however. As a result, the memory of her wedding day was a bit hazy. When she got to Hunsford and was made acquainted with Lady Catherine, she found that a few daily nips were required to maintain her sanity.
For Mr. Collins, the horror of the accident and the resulting forced engagement caused several days’ worth of nightmares and headaches. However, the more he considered his betrothed and the assets so abruptly thrust into his face that day, the more he liked the idea of marriage to this woman he barely knew. By the time his own wedding day dawned, he was eager to get on with it. As he fell asleep that night, he was a happy man looking forward to an exciting future.
~~~***~~~
Darcy and Elizabeth escaped the wedding breakfast in the furor that followed Mr. Collins’ spectacle. After quietly taking their leave of the family, they boarded their coach, headed for London for a few days before taking a tour of the Lake District.
The first part of the ride was bittersweet, especially for Elizabeth, who was leaving her family and the home she grew up in, never to return as a permanent resident. She would visit, to be sure, but the distance from Derbyshire, where they would spend a large part of the year, was too great for frequent visits. Darcy held her as she cried, reassuring her with gentle words of love and kisses to her hair and cheeks. When she calmed, they snuggled together for a nap.
They awoke when the coach stopped to change horses halfway to town. After a quick meal in a private sitting room, they were on the road once more. Now they were wide awake, and spent their time snuggled together, reading and talking, often distracting each other with long, delicious kisses.
Their arrival at Darcy House was heralded with much fanfare by the staff, who had spent the previous month scrubbing every corner of the building to make it shine for the new Mistress. They were eager to meet her. They had seen the joy in the Master’s face when he was in London that week following the engagement, and knew they would like anyone who made him feel that way. Many had been with the Darcys since Fitzwilliam was a boy, and they had watched as events in his life had caused him to turn further and further into himself, robbing him of much of the happiness he had exuded in childhood.
Exiting the coach in front of the townhouse, Mr. Darcy held his hand out for his wife to place hers in. He helped her alight, then tucked her hand in his elbow, holding it tightly to himself. Grinning at her as she smiled up at him, he placed his free hand over hers and began the walk up the steps and into the foyer. There, his housekeeper, Mrs. Butler, had lined the staff up to greet the new Mrs. Darcy. As she greeted the couple and began the introductions, Darcy looked proudly on. Elizabeth had a warm smile and a kind word for each maid and footman, and they responded well to her efforts.
Once she reached the last person in the line, who was hired as her personal maid and was brand-new to the staff, Elizabeth addressed the group as a whole.
“Thank you, all of you, for your warm welcome. It will take time for me to learn all of your names, so please, do not be shy about correcting me if I call you the wrong one,” she said with a wink. The group laughed in response.
Darcy nodded to Mrs. Butler, who dismissed her staff back to their duties. She informed the Master and Mistress that bathwater was warmed for them and that dinner would be served in two hours. Upon receiving their acknowledgment, she curtsied and returned to her own duties, leaving the couple alone.
“Shall we, my dear?” asked Darcy, gesturing to the staircase.
“Yes, darling, I believe we shall. I look forward to washing the dust of the road off and exchanging this gown for something clean.”
Smiling happily at each other, the couple ascended the staircase. Elizabeth was shown her chambers first, and she exclaimed over the beauty of the room and the fine taste of her predecessor. Darcy’s mother had been the previous occupant, and he explained that she had redecorated the year before she had Georgiana. The room had not been opened since his mother’s death, and if Elizabeth desired to make changes, she was welcome to.
“Oh, no, Fitzwilliam! They are perfect as they are. Your mother had exquisite taste! It matches mine so well. I admit to being a little surprised at that.”
“My mother had simple tastes, for all she was the daughter of an earl. She preferred quiet elegance to gaudy opulence. Lady Catherine is the opposite, as you will see when we eventually visit her. She favors gilt and glitter. The more ostentatious, the better, in her opinion.”
Elizabeth shuddered at the mental image his words produced. “Happily for you, my sweet William, I am not inclined to either spend money without need or to fill my home with gilded vases and picture frames. I am perfectly happy with the colors and fabrics I see in this room, and have no desire at present to make changes.”
Darcy smiled. “I am happy to hear your reassurances.” He reached for her, wrapping his arms about her waist and drawing her close. “If you ever change your mind, there are funds set aside in the household accounts for such things. You do not need to ask my permission to use them.” He bent his head to capture her lips in a slow, sensual kiss. As it ended and he released her lips, her words made him smile.
“Mmmm, my love, that was delicious.” She squeezed his middle, then released him, saying, “Why do you not go to your room and freshen up, and I will do the same? If we stay here like this much longer, we will never get downstairs, and I am hungry.” When he just stood there, grinning at her words, she turned him around and pushed him toward the door. “Go, you insatiable man. I promise to kiss you again later.”
Laughing, he walked to the door that connected their rooms. Hand on the frame of the door, he looked over his shoulder at her to say, “I shall hold you to that, oh goddess mine.” Then he winked and was gone.
Later that evening, after dinner and an hour playing the pianoforte
together, the pair walked back up the stairs, holding hands and whispering to each other. They entered Elizabeth’s rooms and were not seen again until noon the next day, when they appeared in the breakfast room. They ate their meal quickly, staring at each other and touching as often as they could manage. Afterwards, they ran back up the stairs, the Master chasing the Mistress, for another afternoon of bedroom games and togetherness. So began a wonderful life full of love and laughter.
~~~***~~~
In due time, Bingley fulfilled all of Mrs. Bennet’s predictions by asking Jane for her hand in marriage on Christmas Eve. Though generally compliant, Jane refused to budge on her wedding date, which she insisted be no more than four weeks distant. Her mother eventually gave up the fight, vowing for all to hear that the next daughter to marry would be forced into a longer engagement.
Elizabeth and Darcy stood up for their friend and sister. Their attention was less on the wedding currently taking place and more on each other and the memory of their special day.
The new Mr. and Mrs. Bingley settled quickly into Netherfield, but only stayed there a year. Eventually, the unannounced and unexpected visits of Mrs. Bennet strained even Bingley’s good humor. With Darcy’s help, they found an estate to purchase within half a day’s journey of Pemberley. The two families remained closely-knit for the rest of their lives.
The End
Darcy’s Deal
Acknowledgements
As always, I must first thank Jesus Christ, my Savior and Guide. Without You none of my stories would have been told. I love you!
Additional thanks go to my support system, my sisters-in-heart, Rose and Leenie. You continue to stretch me and keep me on the straight and narrow, writing-wise. Additional thanks go to Rose for cold reading this story on the way home from the Kentucky race. Both of you rock!!
I can’t go without thanking my anonymous cold-reader for all of her hard work and feedback. You are fabulous…thank you!
Chapter 1
“Darcy, you are seven and twenty, for Heaven’s sake; you need to marry. It is your duty! Pemberley needs an heir, and heaven knows your sister needs a woman in her life to rein her in.”
“You do not have to remind me of my duty, Uncle,” Darcy replied stonily. “I am well aware of what I must do.”
“And yet you remain unwed. Why? You have been to dozens of soirees this season; are you telling me that none of the young ladies have taken your fancy?”
Darcy fought to keep from rolling his eyes. “No, they have not. Beauty they had in plenty, but an original thought? No, not one. I refuse to marry a stupid woman simply to get an heir or to do my duty. I must live with her the rest of my life. I absolutely refuse to marry an unintelligent female.”
“Your standards are too high, nephew; any other man would marry without consideration for intelligence, as long as she did not look like the backside of a horse and came with a large dowry. You don’t have to love the one you choose. Marry one and have a mistress on the side. It is done every day.”
“Not by me. I refuse to stoop to such immoral behavior. If I must marry without love, as you keep telling me I do, then I insist on a woman who can carry on a conversation about more than the length of dress sleeves.” Darcy was truly becoming angry. He hated the marriage mart and being paraded around like a prize stallion for sale.
Lord Matlock threw his hands in the air. “Very well, but you will marry, and this season. You know that to remain single would likely cause you to lose guardianship of Georgiana.”
Darcy leaned his head on his arm where it rested on the mantle in his uncle’s study. His uncle knew just how to hit him in the worst possible way, by threatening him with his sister, the only living member of his immediate family. Sighing deeply, he replied, “Yes, I do know that. Very well, Uncle. You choose a bride for me and I will consider her. I am tired of the fight. If she is acceptable to me, I will marry her. My only request is that she not be one of the ladies I have met this season.” At Lord Matlock’s nodded agreement, he added, “Excuse me. I must go and find a way to make peace with a marriage of convenience.” Bowing, he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
~~~***~~~
A quarter hour later, Fitzwilliam Darcy slammed another door, this one to his own study. The lingering anger over his uncle’s conversation was transforming into a feeling of despair. He had always wanted a marriage like that of his parents; one of love and mutual respect.
He vividly remembered the joy that filled their home and that was snuffed out the day his mother died, a decade ago. His father had grieved deeply, turning in on himself and shutting out his children. George Darcy had become hard and unforgiving without his beloved wife to soften his rough edges. As a result, his children, in particular his son, were left with only themselves and the servants for comfort. Fitzwilliam had his school friends, of course, but seventeen-year-old boys tend to be uncomfortable with emotion, and he did not feel that he could share very much with them. He kept a tight lid on his emotions and now, ten years after the death of his mother and four after that of his father, he longed for the comfort that only a meaningful relationship could offer.
He paced around his study, trying to wrestle his feelings into some semblance of control, when a timid knock sounded on the door. Stopping in his tracks, he inhaled deeply and let it out before bidding the visitor to enter.
Slowly the door opened to reveal his fifteen-year-old sister. She cautiously peeked around the door, looking first at his face and then around the room in a quick sweep of her eyes.
“May I come in?”
“Yes, please, Georgiana. Come, sit with me.” Darcy watched as she glided gracefully across the floor and settled on the settee. As he sat down beside her, he wondered, not for the first time, how such a serene smile could hide such willfulness as he knew she was capable of.
“Are you well, Brother? I heard the door slam and was concerned for you.”
“I am well. I…had a difficult conversation with our uncle this morning is all. I apologize for worrying you.”
“There is no need to apologize.” She looked to her hands, folded primly in her lap, and ventured a question that to her seemed perfectly reasonable but to him would likely be impertinent. “What did you and Uncle talk about?”
“Not that it is any of your concern,” Darcy began with a stern look in her direction, “but he insists I marry this season.”
“This season? Why?”
“Because you, my dear, need a sister to guide you and help you curb that impulsive nature of yours.”
“Oh.” Georgiana blushed at the implied rebuke, though she did not really believe she was impulsive, or anything that was not proper for that matter. So she liked to have fun? So did many other people. “Do you have someone in mind?”
“No, and that is the problem. I have met no one I could even like, much less love. So, as much as I hate the thought, I have made the decision to allow Uncle to arrange a marriage for me. I doubt I will like his choice, and it will certainly be a marriage of convenience, but for you, I will make the sacrifice.”
Georgiana stared at him. She was unsure what to think. The part of her that reveled in novels was horrified that he would be willing to marry without love. The rest of her, the part that did not think her behavior was all that bad, did not understand the connection between herself and his need to marry. “I confess I do not understand all of this, Fitzwilliam. Are you certain this is the path you wish to take?”
“No, it is not.” Darcy was annoyed at her response. “However, if I wish to keep you with me as my Father wished for you to be, I must follow it. I refuse to continue to participate in the balls and routs and folderol of the season, so Uncle will do the searching for me, and I will accept his choice, no matter how undesirable she might be in other circumstances. And I will learn to be happy with my own company, for I am sure that I will not wish to spend time with her, whoever she is, because I know that he will choose one of the simpering misses I hav
e already rejected.” He paused and took a deep breath, attempting to calm his growing anger. “I will learn to be content with my own company.” He rose as tears threatened his composure at the thought of being so alone for the rest of his life. “If you will excuse me, I feel the need for some exercise.” With that, he bowed to her and turned, striding from the room and out the front door. It was only later, as he was galloping down an empty road outside of town, that he let those tears loose.
~~~***~~~
While Darcy was talking with Georgiana, at Matlock House, Lord Matlock was in discussion with his wife.
“Who was that slamming doors, Henry?” Lady Audra Fitzwilliam, otherwise known as Lady Matlock, entered her husband’s study minutes after hearing a door shut loudly.
“That was Darcy. He did not take well to my demand that he marry this season. I have repeated those same words to him more times than I can count here lately and he is tired of it. I reminded him of Georgiana’s situation. He has given me permission to arrange a marriage. Well, he said I could choose a lady and he would consider her, but I am taking that to mean he will marry the one I choose.”
“He has?” Lady Matlock’s surprise was clear in her words. “But he has not liked a single one of the debutantes we have introduced him to!”
“No, he has not, yet he must marry one of them.”
“No, Henry. Do not make him marry someone he knows and has rejected. Is there not someone else with a daughter that he has not yet met? Give me time to think about it, please, before you arrange something.”
Matlock paused to consider his wife’s words. Really, what harm would there be to give her time to arrive at a solution? “Very well, I will grant you time and not force on Darcy someone we know he dislikes. However, if I find someone before you do, I am going to snap her up and make the arrangements, with or without your approval.”
