A Very Austen Valentine

by Robin Helm

  “Which means nothing,” said Georgiana with authority. “While attending Aunt Adelaide’s teas, I learned that mothers will boast about their sons-in-law or future sons-in-law all the time, even well after they have married their daughters.”

  Darcy stopped pacing. “Elizabeth’s sister seems like the placid type who would follow her mother’s orders without question.”

  “Being an obedient daughter does not mean she would marry a man she did not love, Brother.”

  Richard sat back in his chair once again, watching the siblings’ dialogue.

  “You are correct, of course.” Shaking his head, Darcy continued. “And although Miss Bennet believed some other information that was false…” He glanced at Richard, who seemed to understand from whom that information came. “After I had made such a poor impression on her from our very first meeting, there was no reason for her not to believe me capable of such things.”

  “You think you made a poor impression at the beginning of your acquaintance?”

  “Oh, Georgie, I was so busy resisting my feelings for her, acting aloof and reserved so that I would not raise her hopes, that I did not realize my heart had already become hers.” Darcy laughed without mirth. “And I had not noticed she did not even like me at the time.”

  Richard stiffened. “So, all hope is gone?”

  “Most likely. I did feel the need to correct the false information, and I think that made a more positive impression. We decided — no, in truth, I begged her— to forget the past and begin again, as friends.”

  “Friends.” Georgiana said.

  “I am afraid you may be the one to provide the heir to the Darcy legacy, Dove.”

  Georgiana looked down at her hands again, and all remained silent for a minute or two.

  Darcy watched Richard’s expression change from distressed, to puzzled, and finally one containing hope.

  Richard said, “You must woo her.”

  “Woo her?”

  “Yes.” Richard nodded. “Pursue her. Persuade her that you are not the man she disliked.”

  Georgiana rose and touched his sleeve. “It sounds like you did what you always do when you are uncomfortable; you put up a wall around your feelings, and it really does seem as though you are uncaring when you do that. And then she hurt you with her refusal, and you reacted in a most ungentlemanly way.”

  He startled. “She went as far as saying I did.”

  Richard chuckled. “Good for her!”

  Darcy blinked. Would he be able to ask her again someday? He might be hurt even more deeply than he was now.

  Then again, if he did not try…

  Richard said, “What is the worst that could happen? If she refused you again, you would be in the same place you are now. But you also might win her affections. Is that not worth the risk?”

  Now that he had had a taste of what it was like to love, it would be worth almost anything to have her return it. At one time, he had assumed he would have a marriage of convenience. Now he could not imagine marriage without love. “It is worth the risk.”

  “But not right away, Cousin. Romance her first.”

  “Right,” Darcy said, but had no idea what to do. “When she arrives in London, should I send flowers?”

  Richard laughed. “If you still love her, Cousin, you must show her who you really are. Do not hold back your feelings.

  Georgiana smiled. “You are kind and interesting and brilliant and generous and… well, you are simply delightful. Show her that. Show her you. Do not hide your affections from her.”

  They could be right. He had begun to do so during their walks, and she seemed to be responding, which gave him hope. Then she refused him. But that was before her false beliefs had been explained away. Now they understood each other better.

  No matter the outcome, he would make his best attempt.

  He nodded to his sister and cousin. “I will try my best.”

  Georgiana beamed her approval, but why did Richard have such a strange look on his face?

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  30 January 1812 – London

  Dear Cousin Anne,

  I hope this finds you and Aunt Catherine well.

  Before leaving Rosings, Darcy made a muck of things with our mutual friend. He has now vowed to follow our advice and woo her, but I fear he has not the experience to make a good job of it. Thus, I am determined to execute our plan to help him along.

  I talked with Georgiana, and she is quite excited about the possibility of a romance in her brother’s future. She will keep me informed as to any developments on that front.

  The lady in question should arrive in London next week. I will be very busy with the War Office, but will do my best to pass on any reconnaissance I come by as soon as possible.

  Send my regards to your mother, Mrs. Jenkinson, and Mr. Gibbs.

  Yours, etc.

  Richard

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  ~Monday, February 3, 1812 - London

  When the first signs of Mayfair flew past her window, Elizabeth became fidgety. The coach eventually came to a stop before a beautiful townhouse. She had to concentrate to keep from bouncing in her seat. The footman was as slow as a snail in descending the steps, and he took such an excessive amount of time to open the door and lower the step, she nearly pushed her way past the man.

  It seemed Jane was just impatient to see her, for as Elizabeth exited the coach, Jane sailed down the steps, landing firmly in her sister’s open arms.

  “Lizzy!”

  “Oh, Jane! How I have missed you.”

  When they finally let go of each other, Elizabeth turned to Charles, who stood grinning from ear to ear.

  “It is so good to see you, Sister,” he said.

  “And you, Brother. Oh, it is so nice to say that word, having never had a brother.” Charles escorted both ladies into the house. When Elizabeth turned down the offer of tea, Jane showed her to her rooms to freshen up.

  The upstairs corridor was almost as bare as the entrance hall had been, but Elizabeth’s rooms were comfortably furnished. “Such a lovely chamber! I see you have started decorating after all.”

  “We could not have you sleeping on the floor, Lizzy,” Jane said with a smile. “When we first came to Town after the wedding, we ordered furnishings for a few rooms, but I desire your opinion on the rest.”

  “You know I am always happy to share my opinions on anything and everything.”

  The two ladies moved into the dressing room to allow the footmen to bring in her trunks.

  Afraid the dirt from the road might ruin Jane’s new furnishings, a maid helped Elizabeth shed her outerwear and gown, leaving on her chemise. The sisters seated themselves on a fainting couch while Elizabeth waited for the maids to fill the large bathtub with hot water.

  They chatted about Jane’s wedding journey. She had loved every one of Charles’s relations, of course. Elizabeth doubted they were all as wonderful as her sister claimed, but this was typical of Jane. She was so good! Marriage had not spoilt her; she was still the sweetest lady in existence.

  “And you, Lizzy? How did you find Kent?” Jane asked. “Oh! I must tell you that I have only just received your last letter this morning. It must have arrived at Scarborough after we had left there, and Charles’s uncle forwarded it.” She leaned in and whispered, “Your questions about Mr. Darcy have made me very curious.”

  Elizabeth avoided her sister’s gaze. Over the two weeks since Mr. Darcy had left Kent, she had missed the gentleman more and more every day, and she had done quite a bit of soul-searching. During the journey to London, with only one very quiet maid to accompany her, Elizabeth recognized she was anxious to discuss Mr. Darcy with Jane as soon as could be. Now that the moment had arrived, she found she could not speak of the gentleman at all. “I see the tub is almost full. I will tell you every detail about Charlotte and her new home later.”

  Jane’s brow furrowed.

  “I promise I am well, dearest, and I do have much
to tell you. It is just that it was a very dusty ride.”

  Jane nodded. “I understand, Lizzy. You must be tired. Why do you not rest when you are done here? I will see you later.”

  After the maid left Elizabeth to soak in the tub, her mind wandered. Perhaps she should have spoken to Jane about Mr. Darcy right away. Jane would not mention him in front of Charles, would she? If she did, Elizabeth decided she would just comment that Charles’s friend was indeed in Kent and leave it at that. She would find some private time with Jane at some point during her month’s stay.

  Later, after bathing and a nap, Elizabeth made her way downstairs. There were no servants in the corridor to direct her, so she entered the wrong room. Jane was not exaggerating when she said the rest of the house still needed to be furnished.

  She tried the next door. The small square table with four place settings indicated the purpose of the room, for Jane had told her they did not have a full-sized dining table as yet. Did the staff always have the china laid out, or were the Bingleys expecting a fourth to dine this evening?

  Inside the third room she tried, she found her hosts in the parlour, Charles’s hand on Jane’s cheek, and they were gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Charles slowly leaned in for a kiss.

  Elizabeth quickly, though silently, backed out into the hall, and then knocked on the door, allowing a couple of heartbeats to pass before she opened it again. She would have to do the same before entering any room here in the future. Was not love delightful!

  Jane was blushing prettily when Elizabeth entered a second time.

  “Charles, I must thank you for taking such good care of Jane. She is lovelier than ever.”

  Jane’s blush deepened. Charles grinned.

  Elizabeth bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from smiling. “How did you enjoy the visit with your family, Charles?”

  The newlyweds spoke of their trip. It sounded like they had enjoyed a very nice time, which was no surprise, for Charles was as amiable as Jane. Everyone and everything had been amazingly pleasant and amusing, but they were glad to be in London now, more than ready to remake their house into a home.

  “I saw Darcy this morning, when I stopped at my shoemaker,” Charles said, almost too offhandedly.

  Jane was looking quite intently at Charles.

  Elizabeth tensed. Something was amiss.

  “And how is Mr. Darcy?” Jane asked, though Elizabeth could tell she knew exactly how Mr. Darcy was.

  “When I saw Colonel Fitzwilliam the other day, he said his cousin has been out of sorts since he returned from Kent. When I saw him this morning, I found that to be very true, indeed.” Elizabeth could tell he was trying not to meet her eye.

  Jane had told her husband what Elizabeth had said in her letter!

  She thought back to what she had written:

  I am having some trouble pairing what I thought I knew of him with what I have learned upon further acquaintance with the gentleman.

  Thank goodness, it did not reveal much. However, even as little girls, Jane and she had been almost able to read each other’s thoughts. Had Jane deduced enough from what she did say for her to suspect Elizabeth’s feelings for Mr. Darcy?

  Jane answered, “The house is not yet ready for company, but in view of the fact that Mr. Darcy is such a particular friend of yours, he is always welcome here. You should invite him to dine with us sometime soon. Perhaps that would cheer him?”

  Charles smirked. “I am glad to hear you suggest that, dearest, because I invited him to dine with us this evening. I hope you do not mind.”

  Jane waved her hand, and she replied in an unnatural tone, as though she were reading lines from a play, “Cook always makes more than enough food. It will be no trouble at all to set an extra plate.”

  Ah ha, that explained the fourth place setting! Jane and Charles were playing matchmaker.

  Elizabeth searched her feelings. She was not annoyed? Not even a little. In fact, the prospect of seeing him was welcome.

  She looked back over the past several weeks. The more she had gotten to know him, the more she had enjoyed his company. Even though she had not wished to admit it to herself at the time, she had anticipated seeing him every morning.

  More shocking was the fact that she had missed him terribly whenever she did not see him.

  She gasped.

  Once he had proven all her reasons for refusing him were unfounded, had she finally allowed herself to fall in love with him?

  He had agreed to begin again, but as friends. That did not mean he would renew his suit after she had rejected him so soundly. If she spent time with him now, without a chance to harden her heart, she might end up terribly disappointed.

  “Lizzy?” Jane’s voice broke through her deliberation. She and Charles were waiting to hear her answer.

  What kind of sister would she be if she would force Jane and Charles to cancel their first dinner party?

  “Are you well, Elizabeth?” Charles asked. “If you are too tired, I can send a note, pushing the invitation off until tomorrow.”

  There was only one way to discern her feelings for Mr. Darcy. She must see him again, and the sooner the better.

  “Do not delay,” Elizabeth said too loudly. She cleared her throat. “Not on my account, at any rate. I - I find I am quite refreshed after resting.”

  Something passed between Jane and Charles that Elizabeth could not read.

  “Capital!” exclaimed Charles.

  A moment later, the clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hour, and a knock sounded on the front door. Or was it next door?

  Charles rose and looked out the window, which faced the street. “A good thing you are not too tired, Elizabeth. Darcy’s coach is out front. I did not realize the time.”

  Goodness, not this soon! She barely had time to smooth her skirts with trembling hands before footsteps could be heard in the corridor.

  Every muscle tightened. His reaction to her presence here would tell her everything, or perhaps nothing at all.

  The door opened, and a footman announced Mr. Darcy.

  She rose and faced the door.

  Mr. Darcy entered the room and immediately met her gaze. The light in his eyes softened. His chest rose as he inhaled deeply. All tension in his countenance was dispelled with his breath.

  He smiled, and Elizabeth knew without question that her heart was forever lost to the man.

  Chapter Eight

  She is here!

  Elizabeth had said she would be arriving to stay with Charles and Mrs. Bingley this week, but he had not known which day. Charles had been vague about who else would be in attendance when he offered the invitation. Darcy would have accepted even if Elizabeth’s arrival had not been anticipated, but as the day wore on, he desperately hoped she was already in London.

  This past fortnight, since Elizabeth and he had agreed to erase their past and begin with a clean slate, had been the longest of his life. Gone were all frayed threads that had tied him to his former objections. The pain of her refusal had proven his concerns were of no real importance.

  The only thing that had mattered this past week, was that he might get another chance to win her.

  There was no word lovely enough to describe the lady. Her skin was as creamy as silk. Satin curls framed her face, beckoning him to admire the graceful curve of her neck. The primrose of the gown she wore enhanced the emerald of her eyes, and they sparkled as she met his gaze, alighting a fire within his breast. Simply being in the same room with her made him feel alive in a way he had never experienced before.

  Though he had not stopped thinking of her these weeks they had been apart, no memory could live up to the reality of Elizabeth.

  Longing clawed at his heart. There was nothing he would not do to be with her every day for the rest of his life.

  Movement off to his right caught his attention. Charles and his wife! He had almost forgotten them. Had Charles spoken?

  Darcy startled and sprang into action, shaki
ng Charles’s outstretched hand, offering his congratulations on their marriage. Mrs. Bingley’s smile was not one he was used to seeing from ladies of his circle; she was genuinely pleased to welcome him to her home. She glanced at her sister, and her smile increased in intensity.

  Had he made a fool of himself, gawking at Elizabeth? Possibly, but Mrs. Bingley’s eyes held no reproach or amusement at his expense, only joy. She glanced at Charles, and there it was — the love that Elizabeth said her sister felt for his friend.

  He looked at Elizabeth and nodded once. Her expression told him she understood he was admitting he had been wrong and that he was glad of it.

  A door opened in the wall behind Mrs. Bingley, and a footman stepped through to ring the dinner bell. Charles offered his arm to his wife.

  Excellent!

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Mr. Darcy stepped towards Elizabeth. “May I escort you in, Miss Bennet?” He held out his arm.

  She wrapped her hand around his forearm. It was the first time she had touched him without gloves. The first time since she had truly awoken to her feelings for him.

  A thrill ran through her when she felt the muscles of his arm beneath the finely woven fabric. His other hand moved as if he were about to place it over hers, but he refrained. Instead, he pulled his arm closer to his side, nestling her hand between his abdomen and arm. She glanced up. He was staring at her with such intensity, it made her heart skip a beat.

  Elizabeth felt suddenly shy and looked away. “Jane, thank you for including me in your first dinner party.”

  “And me, as well. It is an honour,” added Darcy.

  Both Jane and Charles glanced over their shoulders. Charles said, “As I told Darcy, and I am sure Jane informed you, Sister, do not expect the finest ambiance this evening. Jane and Elizabeth will have much shopping to do in the upcoming weeks to properly equip our home.”

  As they entered the dining room, Charles led Jane to one side of the table and helped her with her chair. Mr. Darcy did the same for Elizabeth, seating her next to her sister. Charles sat to her right. Mr. Darcy took the place across from Elizabeth. After a mere glance from Jane, a footman stepped forward and removed a tall centerpiece from the table.