Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth

by Greer Boyd

  “Why, I have come for my living, of course,” stated Wickham confidently, as his smile twisted into a smirk. “Since the living at Kympton has again fallen vacant.”

  “In case you have forgotten, I have a document on which you signed away your right to the living at Kympton,” said Darcy as calmly as possible, before he turned to pull the bell cord for the butler.

  When Mr. Dobbs, the butler, entered the room, Darcy greeted him by saying, “Have Mr. Wickham escorted off Pemberley property immediately.” Turning back slightly to look at Wickham, he proclaimed, “You are not welcome here. I would suggest you never come again.”

  When two burly footmen appeared at the door holding his greatcoat and hat, Wickham shouted, “You have not heard the last of this. Never! You will not get away with this. It is my living, my inheritance, you . . . you have stolen it from me.”

  As the footmen each grabbed an arm to remove him from the sitting room, he shouted, “This is not the end Darcy. IT WILL NEVER BE THE END!”

  Darcy only looked at him with disgust and replied, “Oh, but I think it is,” and slowly walked to his study.

  As his mind returned to the present, Darcy leapt up from his chair. The hot flush of anger that swept over him felt like it was choking the life right out of him.

  “Damn Wickham. Damn him. Damn him to hell,” he shouted again, and threw his glass into the fireplace, shattering it into hundreds of tiny pieces of crystal that reflected the fading glow of the fire. How could he possibly have thought that he was rid of Wickham? Would he ever truly be free of Wickham?

  Darcy thought back to Ramsgate when Georgiana was only fifteen.

  Fortunately, I joined her unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement. Unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she looked up to almost as a father, Georgiana acknowledged the whole to me.

  George Wickham’s near-elopement with Georgiana at Ramsgate had not only changed her life in a most unpleasant manner but his as well. It seemed that now he must marry, something that he thought he would never do.

  Darcy had considered marriage, but only on his own terms. He wanted to marry for love and steadfastly maintained that if he were never to find love, he would never marry. He had witnessed the anguish his father experienced after his mother’s death, but he had also witnessed the marriage of his parents. A marriage that was full of love and admiration and devotion and passion.

  “Oh, to have a love like that,” he thought, “an almost all-consuming love. What would that be like?”

  He had looked at the marriages of those around him, all marriages of convenience, and he had so hoped for something other than such an arrangement for himself. Darcy, from the age of eight and ten, had given himself five years to find the love of his life. Every year since those five had passed he had continued to look, but had become more and more discouraged.

  But now, George Wickham had changed all that. Georgiana needed more than he alone was capable of giving her. His Aunt Eleanor could help give the guidance of the mother that Georgiana lacked. But maybe an older, wiser sister, one with whom she could confide, would help even more.

  Darcy had never before been concerned about having an heir. Pemberley Estate was not entailed, as were the majority of family estates throughout England. His father had always disliked the idea of entailment so when the entail on Pemberley had been broken by Darcy’s birth, his father swore that he would not ever again encumber the estate in such a manner. As a result, Darcy had always felt that he did not need an heir and assumed that if he never found the love of his life, the property would simply pass through to Georgiana’s offspring.

  “Damn Wickham.” Darcy would protect Georgiana in any way that he could, even if it meant with his own sacrifice. He must marry for Georgiana’s sake and soon.

  ∞∞∞

  Lady Amanda Dove was the daughter of John and Emily Dove, their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Avon, who were friends of Darcy’s uncle, the Earl of Matlock. The Duke of Avon was considered to be a minor duke, since he held only the small estate of Avonlea as ducal property.

  Lady Amanda definitely was not his cousin, Anne, and she was not one of the newly presented either. Her father, Lord John Dove, had allowed her to wait until her eighteenth birthday to be presented. If it had been up to her, she never would have been presented at all. Very pretty and quite accomplished, she seemed to shun the activities of the “ton.” She enjoyed her life at Avonlea.

  But she had done her duty to her parents, and now three years later, Fitzwilliam Darcy was in the sitting room at Avonlea.

  The duke had been taken quite by surprise when he received the couriered letter from Fitzwilliam Darcy requesting an audience with Lady Amanda the following week. Since Darcy had come of age, he had been reticent to be linked to any one particular lady, although many had tried throughout the years to make such a connection. The duke could only speculate that Darcy had finally decided to take a wife. That the young man might be considering his daughter, Amanda, was somewhat of a revelation to him.

  John Dove inquired if the courier had been instructed to wait for a reply. When he received an affirmative answer, he directed the young man to the kitchen for something to eat and drink. Then, he picked up the letter and went to find Amanda.

  She was seated in the library, reading a book of poetry. “Amanda, I have just received a most unusual letter containing a most interesting request,” he announced as he handed the elegant paper to her to read for herself.

  “Father, I do not have the faintest idea what this could be about,” she stated after reading the letter thoroughly, and then she looked quickly away from his gaze.

  “Amanda,” he responded, again drawing her attention back to his face, “you know as well as I that a gentleman does not request an audience with a young woman unless he has plans to further an acquaintance with her.”

  “But, Father,” she implored, “we have known the Darcy family for many years and, throughout those years, we have been no more than mutual acquaintances at best. I think that perhaps this has something to do with Georgiana and probably only with the preparations for her coming out. That is all.”

  “Well, Daughter, think what you will, but I think you should also want to consider the possibility that Darcy may have finally decided to seek a bride,” he stated plainly. “I thought I would prepare you, since I must confer with your mother before issuing a reply.”

  Amanda looked at him pleadingly, “Must you, Father? You know how Mother is. She will have an appointment with the London dressmaker for wedding clothes before the ink is dry on your response to Mr. Darcy.”

  “Yes, yes, I know,” he spoke softly, “but I also know that I will never force you into a marriage that you do not want and neither will your mother. The choice has always been and will continue to be yours alone; however, I thought a bit of forewarning would be in order.”

  Amanda stood to kiss her father on the cheek. “I love you so much, Papa. Thank you.” As she began to leave the library, she turned her body slightly too again look at her father. “I think I shall take a turn through the park for a while.”

  He waited until he saw her pass by the library window before he turned and sought his wife. The duchess was in her study when he knocked on the door and entered saying, “My dear wife, there you are.”

  She turned gracefully to face him, “Yes, Husband, and what may I do for you?”

  He bent down to place a soft kiss on her cheek and handed her Darcy’s letter, then watched as myriad emotions played across her face, the face he loved so much.

  He was the most fortunate of men, and he knew that his wife felt herself to be most fortunate as well. They had been in love with each other when their parents arranged their marriage, and their love had only grown with time. This was what he wanted for Amanda. The duchess wanted her daughter’s happiness with equal fervor, but she knew only too well that things were very different for young ladies than for young gentlemen. She would
curb her enthusiasm until after Amanda’s meeting with Darcy, but she thought to herself, “Could it possibly be true? Is Mr. Darcy considering Amanda as his wife?”

  “Well, Husband, what say you to Saturday a week? Mr. Darcy did not specify a particular date in his letter. Pemberley is only half a day’s journey, but he will need to stay the night and that will allow him time to attend services with us on Sunday,” she concluded as she stood holding the letter in her hand. “I must speak with Amanda at once.”

  The duke spoke softly to his wife, “She is taking a turn in the park.”

  The duchess knew that her husband wanted Amanda to have an opportunity to consider the options available before she herself spoke with her daughter. Amanda was their only child though not for lack of effort on their part. The duchess had had two miscarriages before Amanda was born during their tenth year of marriage, and she had failed to conceive again after Amanda’s birth. She sat back down and remained seated in the study, concluding that she would wait until her daughter came to her.

  Amanda had been thankful for the time that her father had allowed her to be alone with her thoughts. There were many things to consider, and she thought that her mother would think to dismiss most of them out of hand. Her parents were no longer young, and she had to consider how she would take care of them as they aged or, heaven forbid, if their health failed.

  Her father’s estate was located near the southernmost part of Derbyshire, quite small compared to most ducal estates and especially small when compared to Mr. Darcy’s Pemberley. It was generally thought that the Duke of Avon took in about £5,000 a year, but she had long known that the total amount taken annually into the ducal fortune was much more, greatly exceeding the £5,000 generated from the Estate of Avonlea alone. The estate was not entailed, so she knew that one day she alone would inherit both the estate and the ducal fortune, a thought that brought its own myriad of concerns.

  She was well educated, actually better than well educated, quite the bluestocking she often thought of herself. She could handle the management of the estate with ease, because she had been assisting her father in one way or another since she was a child. She also frequently discussed the pros and cons of various investment opportunities with her father before he pursued them.

  But a single woman as heiress to an estate would bring the dreaded fortune-hunters to her door. Some of the more unscrupulous of them would not hesitate to create a compromising situation to force her into marriage, and thereby to relinquishing control not only of the estate, but of the extensive Avon ducal fortune. Her dowry and fortune would be used to pay off gaming debts or worse, after which the estate would fall into ruin due to poor management and neglect by such a husband.

  Amanda continued with her thoughts. She had always wanted to marry for love much as her parents had done. She had not really ever found anyone who remotely shared her enthusiasm for country living, and intelligent and stimulating conversation, or her disdain for the atmosphere of the “ton.” She had finally decided that if she were ever to find someone whom she liked and with whom she could build a relationship based on mutual regard and respect, possibly love would eventually grow. Being an only child and also being so very loved by her parents, Amanda knew that the one thing she truly wanted above all else was to have a child, a child for her to love.

  “Is Darcy truly looking to me as a potential wife?” she quietly asked herself.

  She and Darcy had been somewhat acquainted for many years, and each respected the other within the confines of their acquaintance. She had met Darcy’s little sister once or possibly twice and had liked her very much, although Georgiana had been much younger than she. When she looked up and noticed that she was about to leave the park and enter the lane to the house, Amanda thought to herself, “Enough speculation . . . enough.” She knew she would make her decision based on what Darcy had to say when they met.

  ∞∞∞

  The next Saturday saw Darcy in his barouche as it entered the park surrounding Avonlea, traveled through the beautifully manicured lawns, and stopped before the steps under the covered entranceway leading to the front door. As he emerged from the carriage, the duke walked down the steps to greet him.

  They bowed to each other and then shook hands. The duke inquired, “I hope that your trip was comfortable? The weather has been exceptionally good for travel of late.”

  “Your Grace, indeed it has. The roads were in unusually good repair, much to my good fortune,” Darcy responded. Not one to mince words, he immediately continued, “Your Grace, I think that you have already suspected the reason for my requested audience.”

  “Well, Mr. Darcy,” stated the duke succinctly as he smiled up into Darcy’s unreadable face, “there could be any number of reasons for your journey. But, let us get right to the heart of it, shall we? To clarify matters, I believe you may have finally decided to seek a wife and might be interested in my Amanda.”

  “That is very perceptive of you, Your Grace,” Darcy acknowledged with a slight nod of his head.

  As they walked up the steps, the duke queried, “Well, sir. Shall I introduce you to the duchess and Lady Amanda after you have had a chance to refresh yourself? Our housekeeper, Mrs. Stratford, will show you to your rooms and then later direct you to the sitting room.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. I would appreciate that.” Darcy smiled slightly as the butler took his greatcoat, hat, and walking stick, and he turned to follow the housekeeper up the stairs to the guest rooms on the second floor.

  A short time later, Darcy entered the sitting room. He still wore his traveling clothes, an emerald green jacket that hugged his lean frame over a cream-coloured waistcoat, stark white shirt and cravat, formfitting tan trousers, and tall black Hessian boots (minus the tassels) that were so highly polished they almost sparkled. As he entered the room, the Duke and Duchess of Avon stood up to greet him, as did Lady Amanda.

  Darcy noticed that Amanda’s eyes were wide and bright and the most vivid emerald green he had ever seen. Her pale complexion was perfectly complemented by the ivory-coloured muslin gown she wore. Elegant in its simplicity, it was not of the current trend, designed to gather under the breast and then fall straight to the floor, but instead was fitted nicely to her ample form, revealing a modest décolletage, with sleeves that came to just below her elbow. The sleeves were trimmed with the same colour of emerald green ribbon as the trim at her neckline and hem. Identical ribbon was woven into the hair drawn loosely atop her head with a few tendrils allowed to escape at the back of her neckline and at the temples.

  Strange, he thought, that the colour of the ribbons perfectly matched the green of his jacket.

  Darcy bowed to the duke and then to the ladies and they curtsied to him in turn. He seated himself in one of the offered chairs situated close to Amanda. As he took in the furnishings of the room, he was pleased to find it very comforting. It had an air of elegance, but nothing was overstated or overdone. Dark wooden furniture covered in varying shades of blue offset the cream colour of the walls. The Oriental rug covering the floor was an intricate design of the same cream and blues. Cushions of contrasting colours adorned the chairs and couches.

  Darcy complimented the duchess on the comfort of the room. She thanked him and, as tea and sweet rolls had just been placed on the small table before her, asked if he would like a cup of tea to refresh himself after his journey.

  “Yes, thank you,” Darcy replied. “Tea would be most appreciated.”

  The Dove family then continued to pursue the duke’s initial questions about Darcy’s journey, the roads, and the weather. After he had finished with his tea and the subject of his travel had been reviewed extensively, he inquired of Amanda, “Lady Amanda, would you do me the honor of walking with me in the gardens beside the house?”

  Looking at both her mother and father for their nodded consent, she replied, “Of course, Mr. Darcy. Let me retrieve my coat. I will only be a few moments.”

  She returned promptly.
Darcy stood and, acknowledging her parents, “Duke” to her father and “Your Grace” to her mother, escorted Amanda down the stairs to the entranceway. Donning his greatcoat and hat, he walked with her down the exterior steps and to the side garden visible from the window of the sitting room they had just left. With great care, he made sure there was sufficient distance between them at all times and was ever mindful to remain within sight of the side window.

  The garden, although bare of any blooming plant at that time of year, was well laid out with enough greenery to look inviting during any season. It was remarkably reminiscent of the garden Darcy’s mother had designed shortly after she came to live at Pemberley.

  After they had slowly walked side-by-side for a few minutes, Darcy turned slightly to look at her face and spoke quietly. “Lady Amanda, you can be at no loss as to the reason for my visit?”

  Amanda looked up at him and smiled, the humor evident in her eyes, and reminding him of her father’s words only hours earlier, softly spoke, “Mr. Darcy, since I am aware that there could be any number of reasons for your visit and I am not privy to any of them, I would ask that you please speak clearly and directly so as to eliminate any confusion.”