The Perfect Bride for Mr. Darcy

by Mary Lydon Simonsen

  “Don’t be angry, Darcy. This matter with Lynton is a mere inconvenience and will quickly pass. Things have been going quite well for me of late. In the last week, I have won more than £6,000, £4,000 from Lynton alone.”

  “I have no comment to make on how you come by your money, but I hope you will use it to pay down your debts.”

  “I already have. That horrid man from Coutts Bank was at White’s and insisted on repayment of an overdue note right then and there, which was unfortunate because I had intended to use some of that money to recover our grandmother’s portrait.”

  “Recover it from whom?”

  “Christie’s, of course. But do not worry. It will not be sold at a public auction. Mr. Garrett has been making discreet inquiries and has told me that there is a lot of interest in it. Grandmother Fitzwilliam was just adorable, with her doe-like eyes, and, after all, she was painted by Joshua Reynolds. Apparently, the nouveau riche do not mind decorating their walls with other people’s ancestors.”

  After that comment, Darcy made no further attempt to engage in conversation. He had no respect for a man who would sell off his family’s legacy.

  By the time Darcy returned with his cousin, everyone was in the music room listening to Georgiana and Mrs. Hurst playing a duet. Upon Lord Fitzwilliam’s entry, everyone stood up and curtsied or bowed, acknowledging his position as a peer of the realm. Because he had left London in such a hurry, he was not dressed in traveling clothes but, instead, in an elegant jacket, silk waistcoat and neckcloth, and Italian leather boots. Although wrinkled, he cut a dashing figure.

  After the introductions were made, Lord Fitzwilliam said to his cousin, “Darcy, what a clever man you are. So many beautiful women at Pemberley all at one time. However did you manage it?” and he went and sat on the sofa between Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bingley, and turning to Caroline, he said, “I have had such a long journey. Please tell me again who you are.”

  “I am Miss Caroline Bingley, and I am visiting from London with my brother, Charles, and my sister and brother-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst.”

  “Bingley? I know that name. Are you George Bingley’s sister?”

  “Yes, Milord. Do you know him?”

  “I once sought him out with regard to a financial matter, but we could not come to terms because he had more rules than my mother, the Dowager Countess, which, believe me, is saying a lot. But I am sure that is the reason why he was sitting behind the desk, and I was sitting in front of it. Did I hear your brother’s name is to appear on the king’s birthday honors list?”

  “Yes, Milord, you are correct.”

  “What an interesting turn of events we have here. A Bingley is to be knighted and will be addressed as Sir George, but here you have Mr. Darcy from an ancient family who has no such honors, and very likely it will remain so,” Lord Fitzwilliam said, chuckling. “You see, Darcy disagrees with the king’s conservative policies, so His Majesty will not bestow a knighthood on him, and although my cousin agrees with the Whig inclinations of the Prince of Wales, he agrees with him on nothing else, including the size of his allowance. So when His Royal Highness becomes king, he will not bestow a knighthood on Darcy either, and that is his reward for standing on principle, Miss Bingley. Let that be a warning to you.”

  While Caroline giggled, Anne coughed to draw Lord Fitzwilliam’s attention. Recognizing it as a warning that cousin Darcy was not amused, he turned his attention to Miss Bingley.

  “Excuse me, Miss Bingley, I am easily diverted. We were discussing how your family has ascended. If the gossip mill is accurate, you purchased the lease on the Barleigh townhouse in Mayfair and got the contents for a song. Apparently, Lord Barleigh needed ready cash to settle his debts. Did I get it right?”

  “We do live in the Barleigh townhouse, Milord, but as to the other matters you mentioned, all the details were worked out between George and the Barleigh family. The particulars are unknown to me.”

  “Once again, we find George Bingley in the mix,” Lord Fitzwilliam said, patting Caroline’s hand. “He is like the London fog—everywhere—and unavoidable. That is a good-sized townhouse, Miss Bingley, so from that, I can deduce that your brother has been more generous with his beautiful sister than he was with me.”

  Darcy was on his feet, fearing this line of conversation would lead to Antony’s request for a loan. “I have asked Jackson to set up card tables in the blue room, and we are ready to go in. We shall all be playing a friendly game of whist,” he said, looking directly at Lord Fitzwilliam.

  In deference to his rank, Lord Fitzwilliam was the first to sit down, and Anne and Georgiana immediately sat down at the same table.

  “Oh, I see how it is. My female relations have boxed me in. Anne, please tell me you are not going to scold me. It would bring back terrible memories of your mother.”

  Placing her hand on Antony’s, she said, “I have missed you, my dear cousin. I want to hear all about your lovely daughters.”

  “Ah, my daughters,” and looking at Charles Bingley, who made up the fourth, said, “If I am to be given credit for anything in this world, it will be because of Amelia and Sophia. At this moment, they are in the capable hands of my mother because their mother has been otherwise engaged of late.”

  “Milord, may I ask you to please deal the cards,” Anne said, fearing her cousin might launch into a discussion of his wife and her lover.

  While Anne was seeing to Lord Fitzwilliam, Richard was entertaining Caroline Bingley. It was the least he could do considering that it was he and his brother who had disrupted Darcy’s plans for the evening. The colonel found Miss Bingley to be a beautiful, intelligent lady. It really was too bad he knew her true nature, or it would have been very tempting when one considered the size of the dowry she would bring to a marriage. He would have to give it more thought.

  As the evening progressed, Lord Fitzwilliam, who was on his best behavior since Anne’s warning, changed tables, and his new partner was Louisa Hurst.

  “Milord, I read the speech you delivered in the House of Lords regarding the cost of the war.”

  “I am so pleased, Mrs. Hurst. That means at least two people are acquainted with its contents,” and addressing Mr. Gardiner, he explained, “I questioned the wisdom of deliberately antagonizing our American cousins by having our frigates in their territorial waters. We do not want, nor can we afford, a war with the Americans as well as with the French.”

  “My brother-in-law is Edward Hurst of the Exchequer, Milord,” Louisa continued, “that is why I read your speeches, although I must confess that I do not understand them, Milord.”

  “Then you are in good company, Mrs. Hurst, as most members of the House of Lords can make the same claim, and you need not address me as Milord after every pause in a sentence. It will be sufficient if you sprinkle a few of them here and there.”

  Mrs. Hurst smiled. She was always happy when she was able to engage in conversation without fear of being humiliated because she was uninformed or did not understand the subject or said something silly. Unlike her sister, she was quite pleased with how this holiday was going.

  When the partners changed for the final time, Elizabeth and Darcy moved to Lord Fitzwilliam’s table.

  “Darcy, please introduce me again to this beautiful creature.”

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn Manor in Hertfordshire.”

  “Do I know your family?” Lord Fitzwilliam asked Elizabeth.

  “No, Milord. My father is a gentleman whose farm is about five miles from Watford on the London road.”

  “Please allow me to say that whatever your father’s farm produces, it can be nothing in comparison to his fair daughter.”

  Darcy groaned and made no attempt to hide it. He loathed this type of exchange, and although Lord Fitzwilliam had heard the groan, he proceeded nonetheless.

  “You may have been born in Hertfordshir
e, Miss Elizabeth, but I suspect your ancestors lived nearer to the coast. With your beautiful dark eyes, I believe you must have some Spanish blood in you, possibly as a result of the Armada.”

  “There is nothing in family lore that speaks of Spanish ancestry, and the Armada broke up on the coast of Ireland, not England.”

  Lord Fitzwilliam started to laugh. “My goodness. A woman who speaks her mind. You would not do well in London society, Miss Elizabeth, where no one ever tells the truth.”

  “But to pretend I do not know something, Milord, when I do would benefit neither of us. I would have to feign ignorance, and you would be deceived.”

  “Good Lord, Darcy!” Fitzwilliam said, sitting back in his chair. “What a jewel we have here. A beautiful, intelligent, and witty woman, completely without guile. Where were you a dozen years ago, my dear?”

  “Apparently, she was sprouting from the soil of Hertfordshire,” Darcy said, pushing his chair back from the table.

  As much as Darcy wanted to be in Elizabeth’s company, he was at the end of his patience with his cousin. Lizzy had noticed his souring mood and had suggested they play only one more round, as she had an early departure.

  Darcy looked at her with longing and regret as this was a most unsatisfactory ending to their time together in Derbyshire.

  ***

  While waiting for the carriage, Georgiana and Anne engaged Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in conversation in the hopes that Will could have a few words with Elizabeth. Despite Anne’s best efforts, events beyond her control had sabotaged her plan to bring Elizabeth and Will together.

  “Mr. Darcy, may I thank you for your hospitality. I shall remember with great fondness our visit to Pemberley and the Peak. I only wish we had had more time.”

  “Can it not be arranged? I understand that your uncle must return to London, but would it not be possible for Mrs. Gardiner and you to remain?”

  “That is a very tempting offer, Mr. Darcy. However, Jane has been with the four Gardiner children for weeks now, and it would be unfair to her to lengthen our holiday. Besides, my father has also written asking that I hurry home.”

  Darcy moved to Elizabeth’s side, and using Georgiana and Anne to block the Gardiners’ view, he took her hand and said, “Elizabeth, may I visit with you in the morning?”

  “We are to be on the road by 9:00,” she said, squeezing his hand gently.

  “Then, I shall call at 8:00. I would also like you to know that Bingley has decided to reopen Netherfield Park, and it is my intention to visit.”

  Lizzy smiled and told him she was looking forward to seeing him in the morning and in Hertfordshire, and it was only when the carriage arrived that Darcy reluctantly let go of her hand.

  Chapter 38

  Jane and Kitty were staring at Mr. Nesbitt’s latest gift because they were not quite sure what it was they were looking at. It appeared to be a golden-brown stone with a bee in the middle of it.

  “It is amber, a fossilized resin,” Mary said, easily identifying the exhibit. “When it was still in its liquid form, it trapped the bee.”

  “But why is he sending an insect to Jane?” Kitty asked. This token of Mr. Nesbitt’s regard followed a tin of ginger that he had sent earlier in the week. Apparently, “Ginger” was his mother’s pet name for him.

  “Is it not obvious? It is a B as in Bennet.”

  “Ah, very good, Mary. I had not thought of that,” Jane said.

  “That is because you do not understand Mr. Nesbitt,” Mary said in a harsh voice that caught her sister off guard. “He has been excessively attentive to you, Jane. But he is not very handsome nor does he say all those sweet things young men are supposed to say when courting a lady, so you show no enthusiasm for him.”

  “Mary, calm yourself. We did not know what the object was. That is all.”

  “No, I will not calm myself because you are just like Lizzy with Mr. Collins. She did not appreciate him either, and he has made Charlotte a fine husband. And you will never love Mr. Nesbitt because you do not recognize his value. But I do. Of course, he would never look at me because I am so very plain, but if he did, I would let him know how fortunate I was to have such a fine man as a suitor.”

  “Oh, Mary, you are being ridiculous,” Kitty said. “Mr. Nesbitt invites ridicule because of the gifts he sends. Is Jane supposed to whisper ‘Ginger’ in his ear or to discuss insects stuck in a piece of sap?”

  “Resin! It is resin, not sap! There is a difference.”

  “Mary, what has brought on this outburst?”

  “Your lack of understanding has brought it on. Oh, you think you are able to recognize the value of a man. But if Mr. Bingley, your bright shining star, was so wonderful, why did he quit Netherfield without leaving you so much as a note? And you and Lizzy and Kitty thought so highly of Mr. Wickham, and now everyone in Meryton knows he is not a gentleman, but a seducer.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kitty asked anxiously.

  “Betsy Egger thought she was pregnant by Mr. Wickham, but then she found out she was not. But it was too late because she had already told her brother, and he is going to go to Brighton to find Mr. Wickham and beat him to within an inch of his life,” and Mary turned on her heels and left the room.

  Jane now understood the reason for the harshness of Mary’s words. She was in love with Mr. Nesbitt. It was always Mary who sat with the pair during his visits, and it was Mary who showed an interest in all Mr. Nesbitt had to say. But she would have to talk to her sister later because now she wanted to know why Kitty had blanched when she had heard the news about Mr. Wickham, and she immediately went to her room.

  “Kitty, what are you doing?”

  “I received a letter from Lydia that I have not answered.”

  “What did the letter say?”

  “The usual.”

  Jane crossed the room and faced her sister. “Kitty, I want to know if Lydia has seen George Wickham.”

  “It would be possible as they are both in Brighton.”

  “Let me rephrase the question. Do you know if Lydia has had any direct contact with George Wickham?”

  “Oh, Jane! It was supposed to be a secret. Lydia wrote that she had had a falling-out with the Forsters, and they were sending her home. But, instead of coming back to Longbourn, she was going to elope with Mr. Wickham.”

  “Good God!”

  Jane nearly fell down the stairs in her efforts to get to her father as quickly as possible and entered his study without knocking. With his chair facing the window, Jane could see that her father was holding a letter.

  “Jane, a post rider has just come with a letter from Colonel Forster.” In a state of total disbelief, he continued, “Apparently, Lydia has gone to Gretna Green with Mr. Wickham.”

  ***

  It took three days for Jane’s letter to reach Elizabeth at the inn. While Lizzy was riding Sugar in the Peak District, her father had been on the road to London in hopes of finding his youngest daughter. Colonel Forster had come to Longbourn to inform the family that the couple had transferred to a hackney coach at Clapham, which meant they were going to London and not Gretna Green, where such marriages took place.

  Because of the lateness of the hour, Lizzy did not read Jane’s letter until the morning. Once she acquainted her aunt and uncle with its alarming contents, Mr. Gardiner left to arrange for the carriage to be brought ’round immediately, and Mrs. Gardiner began packing everything as quickly as possible. Lizzy was writing a note to Mr. Darcy explaining that a family emergency had required their hasty departure when the servant announced him. When he first saw her, he thought she was ill because she was so pale, but then he saw her tear-stained cheeks and he went to her.

  “What is the matter? Are you ill? Shall I send for a glass of wine?” Darcy asked. A few short hours ago, he had seen her smiling and happy, and he believed that all barriers t
o their coming together had been removed. But now something was very wrong. To his mind, the only news that could cause such unhappiness would be news of a death in the family.

  “There is nothing the matter with me. I am just distressed by some dreadful news from Longbourn,” and Lizzy burst into tears. Taking her hand in his, he asked her to tell him what was causing her such anguish.

  Lizzy did not want to say Wickham’s name because she knew the effect that it had had on Mr. Darcy in Kent, and this time would be no different. When she acquainted him with the particulars of the supposed elopement, he rose from his chair and stepped back as soon as he fully understood what Lydia had done.

  “It is absolutely certain?”

  “They left Brighton together on Sunday night and were traced almost to London.”

  “What has been done to recover her?”

  Lizzy shared all that she knew, but with each detail, Mr. Darcy seemed to withdraw further into himself. By the time she had finished, she knew he had already distanced himself from her in his mind, and after expressing his wishes that there might be a happier conclusion than there was at present reason to hope, he was gone. And with him went all of her hopes. There would be no visit by Mr. Darcy to Longbourn nor would he return to Netherfield Park with Mr. Bingley. His objections, so vigorously expressed at the parsonage regarding a union between them, had been validated, and by not making a second offer of marriage, he had escaped being bound to such a family. She had not the smallest hope of a different conclusion, and when her uncle returned to tell Lizzy and his wife that the carriage awaited, she felt as if she had fallen into a pool of despair and that there was no friendly hand to lift her out of it.

  Chapter 39

  Lord Fitzwilliam poked his head into the breakfast room and asked, “What are you all doing in here?”

  “We are having breakfast, Antony,” Anne answered, gesturing for her cousin to join them. “Would you like Jackson to prepare a plate for you?”

  “Just ham and a piece of bread will do. I rarely eat at this hour. By the way, what hour is it?”