A Dishonorable Offer

by Timothy Underwood

  “If it will help Fitzwilliam, I can keep my eyes from rolling each time I am told my case is just like Pamela.”

  “Excellent. Excellent. I like you, Miss Bennet. I expected to, since Darcy has always been a sensible fellow, but it is nice to see my nephew picked a girl worth the bother to make a fool of himself over. Be patient and in a few years you will be mostly accepted. You can make friends with the girls who are charmed by your story, and then they will invite you about, and since you are being invited about, eventually no one will think anything of it.”

  Darcy said, “I do not see that this is really so important. If I am not required to go to so many balls and routs, that would not bother me at all.”

  The way Darcy bit out the words and wrinkled his nose made Elizabeth dissolve into giggles. “That was the first thing I heard you say.”

  “What?”

  “I overheard Bingley begging you to dance, and you replied that you’d already done your social duty and had had quite enough dancing for one night.”

  “Oh. Yes.”

  Derwent raised his eyebrow. “I hope, for your sake, this story ends with you asking Miss Elizabeth to dance.”

  Darcy exclaimed, “Of course I did.”

  Derwent said, “It is just I have this image in my mind of you realizing that Miss Elizabeth was listening, and then saying loudly so she could hear: she is tolerable I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

  Darcy flushed. “I would never say anything so rude to a lady.”

  “You would think it.” Elizabeth giggled again. “Do not forget, I’ve seen how you can get testy with people. Lord Derwent, Colonel Fitzwilliam, this recalls a significant matter.” Elizabeth drew herself up and said formally, “I thank you on behalf of myself and my entire sex for the excellent care you took in Mr. Darcy’s education. I can inform you that he has the most charming address possible, and that his smile is quite enough to make any lady swoon. I understand that without your care he would have spent the last years standing on the edges of the room during balls thinking about Latin.”

  Both gentlemen nodded seriously, and Derwent said, “He once did insult a woman terribly while at university. Boxed his ears in, we did. You’d have been sent right off by his nonsense without our help.”

  “I know.”

  Darcy grinned, “Elizabeth, dearest Elizabeth, you should thank them for the benefits their training has led me to bestow on other women, but as for yourself, a single sight of your flashing eyes, and brilliant smile and ivory cheeks, the coral of your lips and—”

  “Do you mean to say you would have behaved yourself just because I struck you through the chest with a single glance, for you may recall, I looked, and you were not in fact bleeding.”

  “I was too. Internally. I’d have died if you didn’t dance with me.”

  He looked so handsome like this. Elizabeth felt the warmth from where their knees barely touched and his body a few inches away from hers. It would be dreadfully embarrassing to become filled with lust in front of all his relations.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “I have heard of such internal injuries. Miss Elizabeth, I thank you for saving my cousin’s life.”

  She replied, “The pleasure was entirely mine.”

  Darcy shook his head. “I thought it was mainly mine. After all I am the one who would have died.”

  “Enough of that chatter.” Matlock grinned. “You two do get along well. Follow good sense and you’ll both do.”

  The butler knocked and opened the door. He was followed by Lady Margaret. She exclaimed, “I do apologize for coming so sudden, but I could not listen to another minute of Aunt Susan’s lecture.” She looked at Elizabeth. “Lady Susan said you were here, and I do want us to meet, properly. I hope we can be friends. I was not sure at first, but the entire matter was Darcy’s fault. Besides Derwent told me that you said you would let him say anything about you if a story would help protect my reputation, and you do not owe me anything, so I am sensible to the kindness.”

  Now that Elizabeth no longer was consumed with anxiety and jealousy, she could examine Lady Margaret as the girl sat down next to her. She was very pretty, and there was a sort of innocence and friendliness about her face.

  Lady Margaret shook Elizabeth’s hand. “It is so romantic, just like in Pamela. I hear that you read a great deal. Pamela is my favorite novel, do you like it?”

  Elizabeth blushed, and she considered how best to reply. “I do wish us to be the dearest of friends, but I fear it is not my favorite. I do see the similarity. Except I like Mr. Darcy far more than I like Mr. B.”

  Then Elizabeth blushed, and turned away. “I…I do not know what you saw or heard, but I would understand if you despised me, and…”

  “Oh, nonsense. Darcy explained how it was his fault. And you are quite desperately in love. I do not blame you for that. It must be so wonderful to be so in love. And I know my life is too easy and charmed, a little unpleasantness is no bother.” She looked at Darcy. “I am entirely past any jealousy over him. You know, he would never even kiss me. It makes me feel quite inferior. You two suit better than we ever did. Besides, I do not like to dislike people. So, Darcy, I forgive you, and don’t bother to say you do not deserve forgiveness.”

  Darcy rubbed at his forehead.

  Elizabeth smiled at Lady Margaret. “He told me he is determined to wallow in his guilt as a matter of principle. I do not think it will hurt him over much, so best leave him to it. You remind me a little of my sister. My favorite one.”

  Lady Margaret seemed unsure how to take that and said, “Is that the one who…”

  “She is the one who just married Mr. Bingley.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “She always tries to think the best of everyone and does not like to bear grudges. She is a very sweet woman.”

  Lady Margaret tapped her hand on her dress and then said hesitantly, “Was she very much in love with Mr. Bingley when she… Ah, well, I should not speak of such things…”

  Lord Matlock exclaimed, “This is the sort of nonsense girls’ education leads to. They made a runaway match of it, and that is all that is to be said on the topic to silly girls like you, Greta. Anything else you may have heard of course has left your memory.”

  The woman crimsoned.

  Elizabeth said enthusiastically, “Jane is very much in love with Mr. Bingley. And it is so delightful, she met him the same evening I met Darcy. And we could all see how Bingley and Darcy were close as brothers, and now they shall truly be brothers. Jane had first seen Mr. Bingley a few days earlier when he rode down the street, and they stopped and stared into each other’s eyes right there. It was quite scandalous; they could not keep their eyes off each other. I knew it then that my Jane would marry him, and she did.”

  “Oh.” Lady Margaret was pensive for a moment, and then came to a resolution. “In that case, I would be glad to make her acquaintance when the couple returns to London.”

  Elizabeth knew that Jane’s social position would be more tenuous than even hers, and a promise of this sort meant something. She said, “Thank you, thank you. You shall like each other very much.”

  “We are almost related… After all Darcy is nearly my cousin, and you shall be also.”

  When the time of the visit to Matlock House ended, Darcy said as he climbed into the carriage after her, “I told you that there was nothing to be nervous about.”

  Elizabeth grinned and pushed him. “I do like them, especially Richard. Shall you box his ears about for that?”

  “Of course I shall. Asking my dear fiancée to call him by his Christian name, with the excuse that we shall all be related. Fiendish. But I know you love me better.”

  “I am not certain; redcoats are very dashing. And he did prove he can quote poetry.”

  Mrs. Gardiner had sent along Ruth to chaperone them during the carriage ride. She winked at Darcy and then turned to study the back paneling of the carriage.

  Elizabeth decided that she woul
d definitely hire the girl away from her aunt as Darcy drew her face to his and kissed her soundly.

  “Do you love me better now?”

  “I am still not sure; I think you must kiss me longer.”

  “Forever.”

  Chapter 27

  One perfect autumn afternoon at Pemberley, some twenty-five years after his marriage, Fitzwilliam Darcy finished his business for the day and immediately walked out onto the grounds in the direction the gardener thought Lizzy had gone off in.

  He was now past fifty, and his hair had turned a distinguished silver that drove Elizabeth wild. She had always loved to play with his hair, and she thought the look of the stately gentleman sat exceedingly well on him. Like his uncle, Darcy had allowed none of his lean figure to fade, and he was still in perfect health.

  The trail went along the river, and there were a gorgeous variety of plants growing up everywhere, and Darcy smelled the familiar scents of autumn. The leaves had turned yellow, and the trees were half bare. It was a warm day for this time of year. He slowed down to enjoy the afternoon warmth, and the sound of the stream burbling, and most of all the anticipation of seeing Elizabeth again.

  Most of his family had done very well. Lord Matlock was still healthy and active, though he was past eighty. Georgiana had not married until she was six and twenty, and her match had been to an exiled French count who was known for spending most of his time conducting chemistry experiments. They were quite happy, and Darcy was simply pleased that his sister had at last decided to marry.

  Matlock’s prediction that the scandal would be forgotten proved true, and for many years now both Elizabeth and her sister Jane were fully accepted by most in society, though Elizabeth preferred to spend more time in the country than London.

  Lydia had a large brood of children, all sons. The youngest wished to take up his father’s profession, but the rest had used the opportunity that Darcy and Bingley’s patronage provided to let them settle themselves into more respectable and profitable lines of business. They were all excellent young men, and their masters and employers spoke highly of them.

  Darcy thought Elizabeth had probably sat down amongst a set of benches with a view that opened out onto a flowered meadow and a prospect of the house. The stream burbled right past it, and Elizabeth had adored that spot since she first saw it as a blushing bride. There was a little gazebo that had been put there so they could sit there sheltered and watch when it rained.

  He had told Lizzy that business would not keep him late today, so she would be somewhere he could find easily.

  They had only had two children, and both were away now. Their daughter Jane was the older child. She had married an excellent young man whose estate was only twenty miles from Pemberley a few years before. Darcy and Elizabeth already had two grandchildren, and a third was on the way. The children were still tiny, and they were completely adorable. Every month, except when the roads were dangerously icy during the deeper winters, Darcy and Elizabeth went to stay with their daughter for a few days so they could play with the children.

  Charles was now in his second year at Cambridge, and he constantly got into harmless scrapes with his cousin and closest friend, Bingley’s oldest son.

  Since both of his children were healthy and happy, Darcy was not at all displeased that Elizabeth had not had more children. While both her pregnancies had been easy, the periods of labor were the most terrifying days of his life, and for weeks following each birth memories of his mother’s death haunted him. When Elizabeth had said something about that to Georgiana, Darcy’s sister had suggested they use French practices to reduce the chances of conception.

  Lizzy sometimes missed the children greatly. Darcy did too. But it was wonderful for it to be just the two of them again.

  She sat where he had expected, and a book sat on the bench next to her. Elizabeth had her eyes closed and her face was screwed up into look of concentration. Since she gave no sign of hearing his approach, Darcy sat as quietly as he could on a bench across from her.

  Her facial expressions had always fascinated him. Elizabeth was no longer a young woman, but she was still startlingly beautiful. At least to him. She had a thoughtful frown and her bottom lip was drawn between her teeth. While not quite as loose as the dresses of their youth, Elizabeth’s blue silk gown was free flowing and the line of her knee was visible.

  He watched as little smiles came over her face, and then her cheeks softened into a perfect sweet look. It made his heart catch.

  He wondered what she was thinking of. These unguarded moments were his delight. She would often sit in his study reading, and he would stop writing his correspondence, and just stare at the way she bit at her fingers, or frowned in concentration, or how if it was a particularly good novel, little tears might gather at the edge of her eyes. She would catch him staring, and laugh at him, and tell him to do his work. And then they would kiss, and he would not do any work at all.

  The skin of her face was still mostly smooth, though time had removed the youthful glow like dew. There were little wrinkles about the eyes which came from her constant laughter and smiling. It made her more beautiful. Half his life had been spent laughing with her. He felt such tenderness in his every nerve for her.

  She smiled again, and her face went pink, and her lips pouted out and she breathed a little heavily. Darcy shifted to look at her a little more closely, and some noise he made broke the spell.

  Elizabeth gasped, her eyes opening wide, and then laughed. “How long were you watching me?”

  “I have watched you forever; you know that your face is always the sole sight before my eyes.”

  “Oh? How did you manage to walk from the house without tripping?”

  She jumped up and as soon as she reached his bench she nestled in his lap, rubbing her bottom against him, and kissed him soundly.

  He kissed her back eagerly. There was a small temptation to drag her off and have his way with her in the bushes, as they had done a few times, but while once had been a fun experience, he did not enjoy such exhibitionism.

  At last they stood to take a walk together, and Darcy asked, “What were you thinking of?”

  “You. Though I am capable of seeing other things. How do you walk if I am the only image you see?”

  “I follow where you point me.” Darcy rolled his eyes at her and said in a droll tone, “Obviously.”

  “Obviously.” Elizabeth giggled.

  Extravagant romantic flirts were an old joke of theirs, and Darcy occasionally spent a half hour while waiting for a hunt to start thinking up absurd things he could say to make Elizabeth laugh. He sometimes tried to give them as studied an air as possible.

  “Your face was rather pink, just what were you thinking about?”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth, and then closed it and bit her lip. She then took his hand and squeezed it. “I sometimes fear that I am so full of being happy that I forget how very lucky I am. I was trying to recall those months when I first met you. Do you recall how I used to imagine things being the way I wished them to be?”

  “I could never forget. It was how I first saw you. It was when I fell in love with the play of expression over your vibrant face. You are much prettier today though.” Elizabeth pushed him. “You were pretty then. You certainly caught my eye, so it is no insult.”

  “I will confess I have aged very handsomely,” Elizabeth said with a pretty laugh.

  Darcy took her hand and kissed it. “There is no way you could have been as pretty then as you are today. I did not know you yet, and I had not shared so much with you. No girl of twenty, even if she was you, could be so…” Darcy choked up suddenly. “No girl could be so beautiful to me as the mother of my children, as the companion of my life, as the woman I have laughed with for so long. In another twenty-five years, when I am as old as Uncle Matlock, and you are seventy, I shall find you yet more beautiful, for our shared bond of time spent together shall be even thicker.”

  “Oh.” Little tears of
happiness sprouted in her eyes, and Elizabeth kissed him. “You so often say such absurd things, and then you manage something like that.”

  Smiling himself with emotion, he kissed her and hugged her and whispered, “I will always love you.”

  It was a perfect moment. The yellow light of the sun bathed them, a warm breeze blew over their skin, and Elizabeth’s familiar perfume filled his nostrils.

  “This is why it would be so ridiculous if I did that today,” she said when they began to walk along the path again.

  Darcy blinked, but then recalled what they had been talking about before. “I could not imagine being happier than I am now either.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Our life has been so perfect. If I ever need to feel happier, I would just think about you, and about the children, and the grandchildren, and…you.”

  “That, however, does not explain why you were blushing.”

  “I said, I was remembering.”

  “And what memory were you drawing upon?”

  “Our wedding night.”

  “I was a randy young buck, wasn’t I? No finesse or style. I bet I could give you a far better memory now.”

  Elizabeth laughed, “I don’t think it will ever have the same meaning as the first time, but I confess you have improved.”

  “Only because you have become prettier.”

  Elizabeth blushed and kissed him again. Then she critically looked at him. “You’ve never put on any weight — which I thank you for.”

  Darcy understood where her mind was going. “And your dress size is almost the same.”

  “Only very slight alterations will be needed. Ruth can have them done in twenty minutes.”

  “Do you want to have John dress up as a vicar to marry us, or should we just go straight to matters?” Darcy waggled his eyebrows in a manner that suggested going straight to matters was his preference.

  “I think we can manage without having your valet impersonate a clergyman. The wedding ceremony was not the best part of the day in any case. But do you recall what we ate for dinner that night? We could have it served again.”