“It is our uncle and aunt who have caused that,” Darcy said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.
“They have only done what they think is best.”
“Perhaps, but they cannot separate what is best for themselves from what is best for others. Lady Catherine has used our misfortune to forward her desire to see Anne married to me.”
“But if you will not marry Anne, then she has no power over you. And surely our uncle will not press the matter. I do not think he likes Anne very much.”
“No, but he wants me to make a good match. By that, he means a wealthy, well-connected woman, no matter her disposition or temperament.”
Georgiana sighed. “Yes, I can believe that. He is very happy with Sophia’s engagement, though I cannot see how she is.”
“Sophia did not seem unhappy.”
“Oh, she is overjoyed. The Earl of Sheffield is a very good match, as far as society is concerned. Her marriage will be the talk of the Ton, and she will become one of the wealthiest women of her circle. But I should not be happy with him. He is as vain as any woman I know, and he smells of cabbage.”
Darcy could not help but laugh.
“But these flaws would be nothing if Sophia cared for him, or he for her. They have very little to say to each other, and aside from their mutual appreciation for fashion, they have nothing in common. But then, I am beginning to think that is the way of marriage. Grantley and Isabella have no sympathy for each other’s many foibles; Uncle Charles says no more than three words to Aunt Susan in any given day. To think, how miserable I would be now if I had gone off with Wickham,” she finished quietly.
“But you did not go with him.” Darcy managed a smile. “And I do not think all marriages must be as cold as those you have observed.”
“I should hope not.”
“Georgiana…” He took a breath. Then he shook his head.
“Oh, Fitzwilliam.” She took his hand. “I know how much you despise London, but if you were to return for the Season, you would not have to marry! You might placate Uncle Charles, who more than anything wants others to admire his family as much as he does. I would be so happy to see you more often.”
Darcy stared down at their clasped hands. “I cannot return to London for the Season, Georgiana.”
“Oh.” She pulled her hands free. “I suppose there is a great deal to be done at Pemberley. Of course you must attend to your business.”
“No, it is not Pemberley.” He closed his eyes briefly. Was he neglecting every duty that he had?
“Fitzwilliam?”
“In my letters to you,” he said, meeting her eyes, “I have mentioned a Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Georgiana blinked. “Yes, but I do not see…. Oh. Oh!”
He forced himself to hold her gaze, to watch as the pain and disappointment of his announcement registered with her. But he saw only confusion and surprise.
“We are to be married,” he explained, “a few days before Christmas.”
She searched his face. “So soon! Do you love her, Fitzwilliam?”
“Very much.”
“Then I am very happy for you!” She smiled, but there were tears in her eyes.
“Georgiana…”
“Truly! I am amazed, of course. I wondered if you should ever find a wife good enough for you.” She paused. “She is good enough for you, is she not?”
Darcy smiled. “At times I think she is too good for me. She is witty and resilient, so full of life and yet not at all immodest or haughty. She shows great loyalty and concern for her family, as well. Oh, she does not have the connections one might wish, and though her father is a gentleman, she has little money. But Elizabeth is…” He stopped and reached for the letter in his waistcoat pocket. “Here. She has written you.”
Georgiana took the letter but did not open it. “Does she know? Have you told her of…of him?”
“I have.”
His sister flushed.
“He is in Hertfordshire, Georgiana.”
“Wickham?”
“Yes, with a regiment stationed near Meryton. He is, as you can imagine, popular with the people of the town. He has made sure to tell them all how I cheated him from his rightful place in the Church.”
“Oh!”
“You need not worry. He has said nothing of you; he knows that I will not tolerate it.”
“But he also knows,” Georgiana said quietly, “that you will not defend yourself against his charge for fear of exposing me.”
Darcy said nothing.
Georgiana stared at the folded sheet of paper in her hands. “She must think I am a very weak young woman.”
“On the contrary,” he replied, “Elizabeth has the highest respect for you. Read the letter.”
As she did so, Darcy thought of what Elizabeth had written: how she had heard of Georgiana’s many accomplishments and good nature, not only from Darcy but from the Bingleys, as well; how she hoped that they might, through correspondence, come to know each other better until they were fortunate enough to meet; how she had four sisters but would be overjoyed to have a fifth; and finally, as she had said in her letter to Darcy, how she would strive to be a wife and sister worthy of the Darcy name.
After a few minutes, Georgiana looked up and smiled. “Oh, she writes with such warmth, Fitzwilliam! I have always wanted a sister, and now I shall have one!” Then she sighed. “But our uncle and aunt will not be happy about this.”
“Not at all.”
“And you have come here to tell them?”
Why had he not realized until now what he had meant to do all along?
“I want you to go to your room and pack all of the belongings you would want to take with you to Hertfordshire.”
Georgiana gaped at him.
“You are my sister,” he said, taking her hand. “You belong with me.”
“But Fitzwilliam, I do not—”
“Go. We are leaving tonight.”
Chapter Fifteen
On seeing his son off to Cambridge, the former master of Pemberley had given his heir the following advice: “You must never let another man see your fear.”
So when Darcy entered his uncle’s drawing room, he kept his eyes focused on the painting above Lord Matlock’s chair.
“Where have you been, young man?” his uncle inquired. “You have missed the Earl of Sheffield’s visit!”
When they had stood side by side at the open grave of beloved wife and mother, a stoic father had chided his grieving son: “Your countenance shows too much emotion!”
So Darcy kept his face (aside from that pesky muscle on the left side of his jaw) impassive as he answered Lord Matlock: “With Georgiana, sir.”
“And where is your sister?” Lady Catherine demanded.
“You must never fail your sister,” the old man had begged when he lay dying. “Never.”
So, through clenched teeth, Darcy kept his voice steady: “She is collecting her belongings.”
“Silence,” George Darcy had told the eight-year old boy who, after a nasty fall, had sobbed against his chest, “is a man’s greatest weapon.”
So when the room erupted into pandemonium, a twenty-eight-year-old Darcy kept quiet.
“Just what do you think you are playing at?” the Earl of Matlock exclaimed.
Lady Catherine stood and pointed a finger at him. “You had better speak to your cousin!”
“This is quite exciting!” Lady Grantley cried, putting aside her needlepoint.
Grantley said, “I had hoped to go to the club this evening.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Richard muttered, putting his head in his hands.
“Cambers,” Lady Matlock said to the footman, “leave us, and close the door behind you.”
Though he continued to stare at the painting (a second-rate landscape by an artist Lord Matlock felt certain would one day be famous), Darcy knew the eyes of his family were on him.
“Well?” Lord Matlock demanded.
&nb
sp; “Well what?” Darcy snapped, his face flushing as he met his uncle’s gaze. No matter how much he tried, he was not, and never would be, his father. “I owe you no explanation. Georgiana is a Darcy. She belongs with me.”
“What of Anne?” Lady Catherine marched up to him. “Your failure to make your engagement to Anne public— ”
Darcy looked to his cousin, who was reclining on a divan in the corner of the room. “With all due respect, Anne, has there ever been an understanding between us?”
Anne rolled her eyes. “An understanding? How very tiring you are, Darcy. Do you suppose Mama cares what either of us want?”
Lady Catherine ignored her daughter. “From your infancy,” she said, clutching his arm, “you have been intended for each other! It was the favorite wish of your mother! When my sister died— ”
Darcy stared down at his aunt’s hand, wishing he had the courage to shake it off. “When she died,” he said, voice no longer steady, “I was but fourteen, and I will not soon forget what she said to me. Her only wish was for my happiness!”
“And why should you not find that with Anne?” Lady Catherine turned to her brother. “Tell him, Charles, tell him that he must marry Anne!”
Darcy held up a hand. “Three weeks from tomorrow I will be married to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire.”
The room fell silent.
To his surprise, Anne was the first to recover from this announcement. “I should not have liked to live at Pemberley, anyway.”
Lady Catherine stumbled backwards before allowing Sophia to lead her to a chair. “This cannot be!”
Lord Matlock blinked several times. “Bennet? Bennet? Who are the Bennets?”
“Thomas Bennet is a gentleman with an estate called Longbourn near the town of Meryton,” Darcy replied, fighting the urge to turn away. He could bear the shocked exclamations of Lady Catherine; he could tolerate Anne’s petulance; he could handle his uncle’s growing rage. But the disappointed glance from Richard, Lady Susan’s pale countenance, and Sophia’s anxious eyes made him doubt the decency of his course of action.
“Longbourn!” Lady Catherine stood up so quickly that she nearly fell forward. “This cannot be!”
“Do you know these people?” Lord Matlock asked, turning to look at the others in his family.
“I have never heard of such people,” Grantley said with a sniff before snapping open a copy of the day’s newspaper.
“Longbourn is the name of the estate my parson is to inherit!” Lady Catherine said. “You cannot mean to marry into my parson’s family?”
“A parson?” Lord Matlock gaped at him.
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy replied, his hands clenched by his side, “is a gentleman’s daughter; I am a gentleman. So far we are equal.”
“And who are her mother’s people?” Lady Catherine demanded. “I have heard Mr. Collins speak of them as ill-bred tradesmen.”
“Tradesmen?” Lord Matlock’s face reddened. “You would welcome into our family those I would not be able to admit to my own home?”
Darcy glared at his uncle. “I cannot tell you who you should or should not recognize, but I can say that no person of good sense or education would feel embarrassed to know Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Are you suggesting, sir, that I have no sense? No education?”
“My dear,” said Lady Matlock, coming to stand next to her husband, “I am certain Darcy meant no such thing. Now, let us all sit and discuss this calmly. I am certain that—”
Lord Matlock shook off his wife’s arm and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the door opened. Darcy turned and saw his sister standing in the doorway. She clutched the doorjamb with one hand and her bonnet in the other.
“Well, young lady,” Lord Matlock said, “did you know anything of this nonsense about a marriage to a country nobody?”
Georgiana lifted her trembling chin. “With all due respect, Uncle, I do not think it is nonsense. I am pleased that my brother has found a woman worthy of him.”
“Then you are determined to leave with him this evening?” Lord Matlock asked, taking a step toward her. “After all that we have done for you?”
Darcy placed himself between his uncle and his sister. “What have you done for her, sir, except take her from the comfort of her home?”
“No, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said, coming to stand beside him, “you must not say that. Uncle Charles and Aunt Susan have indeed been very kind to me.”
Lord Matlock’s face crumpled. “So this is how you repay our kindness, then? By leaving us in this fashion?”
“No, sir, I am not leaving you, not yet.” Georgiana placed a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “Forgive me, Fitzwilliam, but…but upon reflection, I realized that I could not leave, not tonight, not like this.”
“Ha!” Lady Catherine strode toward them. “You see, a few months with me, and the girl has more sense than she ever learned from you, Darcy. Now, we will discuss your marriage to—”
“No.” Georgiana turned and glared at her aunt. “No, there will be no such discussion.”
Lady Catherine’s mouth fell open.
“The more important matter,” said Lord Matlock, “is that of your guardianship, and it is clear that you no longer feel your brother—”
“No, sir.” Again, Georgiana’s interruption startled her family. Darcy looked down at his sister, wondering not for the first time that evening if Georgiana had, in the months they had been separated, become a stranger to him. Or perhaps, he thought as she began to speak, he had never truly known her.
“I believe that Fitzwilliam and Richard should remain my guardians, Uncle. It is what my father wished, and it is what I wish, as well. However, I should like to remain with you, if you will have me, for the remainder of the Season, so that Anne and I may help Sophia prepare for her wedding. Then, I hope we may all meet again and reconsider my living arrangements.”
True, her voice and hands shook as she gave her speech, but Georgiana’s gaze never wavered from her uncle’s.
When he said nothing, she continued: “What happened at Ramsgate was not my brother’s fault. Indeed,” she added, glancing at Darcy with a sad smile, “it is due to my brother’s good sense and support that I avoided making a terrible mistake.”
“Well, young lady!” was Lord Matlock’s only response.
“Your impertinence,” Lady Catherine said, “does you no credit, Georgiana, and it most certainly does not address the very insensible decision your brother has made regarding his own marriage!”
“Yes!” Lord Matlock cried, poking his finger at Darcy. “What of this marriage? I do not feel comfortable releasing an impressionable young lady into the care of a brother willing to take up with a fortune hunter!”
Darcy’s face reddened, but before he had a chance to reply, Richard said quietly, “Sir, I do not think she is a fortune hunter.”
Lord Matlock turned and glared at his son. “So you have met this interloper, have you? You have known of your cousin’s plans all this time and—”
“I told Richard of my plans only last night when I arrived in town,” Darcy said, “and he tried to dissuade me from my choice.”
“I did try to dissuade you,” said Richard, “but only because I knew the family would be unhappy. I stand by what I said to you last night, though: I do not believe your Miss Bennet is a fortune hunter.”
“And yet you have not met her?” Lady Matlock asked.
“No, ma’am, but I know my cousin, as we all do. Can any of us imagine Fitzwilliam Darcy, a man who has never given us cause to doubt his sense or his loyalty to his family, throwing aside everything for an unworthy woman?”
“Any man may be fooled by a woman if she is pretty enough,” said Lord Matlock, waving his hand. “You are a romantic, Richard, but as head of this family, I must be practical. It will never do to have such low relations!”
Darcy closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples.
“Why should you appear so put out, young
man?” Lady Catherine demanded.
“Indeed!” cried Lord Matlock. “We are the ones who have been wronged!”
Darcy’s eyes snapped open. “Wronged? Tell me, uncle, how have you have been wronged? Have I attempted to tell you, an independent man, how to live your life? Have I used you and your sister as pawns to improve my stature?”
“Please, Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana whispered beside him. “Do not—”
“You have disregarded the well-being of our family name!” Lord Matlock retorted. “I knew when your mother was foolish enough to marry beneath her that there would be trouble in this family! Who was George Darcy except a man with a good deal of land? His grandfather was a prosperous sheep farmer! Your mother’s grandfather, however, was a duke, a man who advised kings!”
“My father,” Darcy said, “was an educated, sensible gentleman who earned my mother’s esteem and love.”
Lady Catherine scoffed. “Love? What good did that do her when she was stranded in the wilds of Derbyshire, so often out of society? I could show you a number of letters that express her great regret at marrying George Darcy. That is why she wished so dearly for you to marry Anne! You were to rectify her mistake!”
“Is that true, do you think?” Georgiana asked, clutching his arm.
“Do you think I would lie, girl?” Lady Catherine cried. “How many times, brother, did we advise our sister to reconsider marrying such a man?”
“Too many times to count,” said Lord Matlock. “Yet she would not listen to us, and our father, God rest his soul, did not object to the match because he believed the Darcy name was one worth cultivating.”
“You mean that your father believed he could use the Darcy fortune,” Darcy retorted.
Richard came to stand between his father and his cousin. “I think we should all settle down. Perhaps the ladies could have some tea while we gentlemen adjourn to the—”
“No,” Darcy said. “I will not make a pretense of politeness while your father insults mine.”
“I speak only the truth,” said Lord Matlock.
This Disconcerting Happiness: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 21
