Friends and Enemies

by J Dawn King

  “Miss Knowlton?” Darcy surmised.

  “Oh, yes, Miss Cecily Knowlton.” Richard grimaced. “Starting was hard. As a matter of fact, it was undoubtedly the hardest conversation I have ever had. I kept trying to keep my manly dignity, so the words did not come easily. However, her response when I finally spit the apology out was worth every word, every effort.”

  “I do believe Miss Elizabeth has witnessed me at my lowest. I cannot begin to imagine what else I might do.” He pondered their interactions and came up with nothing.

  “Ha!” Richard scoffed. “Let me tell you a fundamental difference between males and females, dear man. You think one thing, but the girl of your heart is thinking something completely opposite. There is no figuring them out. At all! I tell you now, Darce, ask her what she wants you to do and then do it. Do not guess, because I guarantee you will be wrong.”

  “Humph!” Darcy was genuinely surprised at his cousin’s attitude. “Elizabeth Bennet is an intelligent woman who has a sharp, reasonable mind.”

  “They are the scary ones. Cecily is the same.” Richard sat up in the seat where he had been slumped. “Pleasing an exquisite woman is worth becoming a good apologiser, my friend. Learn from the master.”

  “I do not know, Richard. Elizabeth is…”

  “Did you not tell me how much she despised you? And you thought she admired you.” The colonel smirked. “Oh, yes. You are clueless as are all men. Humble yourself.”

  “I will give consideration to what you are saying. The last thing I want is to fail and have you brag you were right,” Darcy considered. “Will you bring Miss Knowlton to the opera tomorrow and join us in our box? I would like the two ladies to meet, and I look forward to an introduction to your beloved.” Now it was Darcy who smirked.

  “We are to dine at Matlock House. I will ask Mother what she has planned.”

  “I plan to invite your parents as well.”

  Richard’s eyebrows flew almost to his hairline.

  “You are bold, Cousin.” The colonel leaned back against the squabs. “Their attendance would give tacit acceptance of Miss Elizabeth as a potential mate for the great Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  “Stop it now.” Had they still been eight-years-old, he would have punched his cousin’s shoulder. He wanted to shake his head at his own childish inclination. He was discerning more and more of his own attitudes and was not necessarily pleased. “If they come, they come. Nothing will be meant by it other than to distract gossipmongers from concern over Georgiana’s situation. If Lord Sternhaven has been spreading tales, which I am confident he has, having your parents and an unknown lady in my party will set tongues wagging. I cannot imagine anyone remembering I have a young sister when faced with seeing a woman on my arm—and yours.”

  “Then we will have to convince my parents to attend.” Richard rubbed his chin. “Pray, leave it to me. I will see they will accompany us to the opera tomorrow evening.”

  Darcy nodded. So much rested on their success. He felt a nervous fluttering in the pit of his gut and knew it would remain until Georgiana was healthy and unharmed from the vicious backbiting of the matrons—and lords—of society.

  He exhaled. If only he had Elizabeth’s hand to hold. Somehow, he felt stronger and more determined at the thought. Yes, he loved her—he now had no doubt. His words uttered to her were true. He would love no other. He needed Elizabeth.

  ***

  Hugh Fitzwilliam, Lord Matlock, was smaller of stature than both his son and his nephew, yet his presence filled the room. He exuded the confidence borne of a lifetime of privilege and an almost unparalleled thirst for justice for his fellow man. He held strong opinions and believed inherently in the rightness of his beliefs. Like Darcy, he loved his family.

  “Imagine my surprise when Lord Sternhaven knew more about my niece than I, her own uncle.” The first words from Lord Matlock’s mouth set the tone for the meeting. “As guardians, you should have let Helen and I know she was unwell. I could have answered him, shutting down his vicious tongue.”

  “My only concern at the time was Georgiana.” Darcy had ceased to be intimidated by his uncle shortly after his father’s death. Although Hugh Fitzwilliam had many sterling qualities, his failure to take his eldest son to task for his reckless spending had resulted in the Matlock coffers being stretched too thin for their lifestyle. Darcy would not use Pemberley’s income to rescue a man who chose indulgence over frugality. “Having her become ill so soon before departure was distressing enough. Having it happen with heavy traffic where it would have taken hours to reach our home made the situation intolerable.”

  “Well, I am sorry it happened at all. Possibly it was something she ate. You will need to admonish your cook, Darcy.” Lord Matlock spoke as if he had authority over his nephew, knowing it rankled. “Leaving for the Americas at the last minute was not wise. Your staff apparently was making you pay, in their own way, for your hasty decision.”

  Ire churned in his stomach until Darcy felt bile threatening his throat. Richard kept silent, having agreed to follow Darcy’s lead.

  “Uncle Hugh, my staff did no such thing. Georgiana’s affliction happens to be common to all young women who have reached a certain age.” His comment was formed to mislead. In truth, pregnancy was natural for a married woman of a certain age, just not his sister.

  “Oh, her monthly courses,” his uncle blurted into the silence that had settled into the room after Darcy’s explanation. His uncle waved his hand. “I know it is not spoken of amongst gentlemen, however, it is as natural as rain. Your aunt suffered until our first was born. Hopefully, Georgiana will settle down in time, though it might not be until she leaves your home before she does so.”

  Darcy wanted to swallow his tongue. He was offended. Speaking of the personal matters of his young sister, especially the delicate subject of her growing maturity, was distasteful. Nonetheless, if his uncle reached a probable, though incorrect, conclusion which kept him from probing further, Darcy would accept the earl’s comments with equanimity.

  It was time for distraction and to further stir the pot.

  “Thank you, Uncle, for your understanding of Georgiana’s plight. Your insight will be of assistance to me now that I have found the woman I intend to marry.”

  “Marry!” The reaction was as expected.

  “Yes, marry.” Darcy waited for the explosion and was not disappointed. He looked at Richard and saw mirth practically flowing out of his ears. His cousin would be no help at all. So much for his offer to help in getting his parents’ agreement to meet Elizabeth in public.

  “What is this! Are you finally going to wed Anne?” Lord Matlock stood and moved towards him. “It is about time.”

  Darcy crossed his legs and rested his back against the padded cushions of the seat. Although his fingers gripped the arm of the chair until his knuckles were white, in every other manner he appeared relaxed.

  “I am not.” He looked his uncle in the eye. “I feel nothing for my cousin other than familial affection. What I feel for the woman I will marry is a love so intense, I have no doubt of future felicity. Pemberley will again be filled with happiness, if I can only convince her to have me.”

  “What foolishness is this? She will not have you?” The earl was incensed and righteously indignant at his nephew being scorned, exactly where Darcy wanted him to be. “Is she daft?”

  Richard chuckled, catching the attention of his father.

  “You know her, Son?” Hugh Fitzwilliam demanded. “Tell me about her.”

  Richard looked to Darcy before speaking. “You will not be disappointed, Father. In one word, I would describe her as peerless.”

  Darcy nodded.

  Richard continued, “She is beautiful, though not fashionable. She is knowledgeable, without being a blue-stocking. However, it is her character that sets her apart. Like Darce, she has a strong sense of family, of what is right and wrong, and is one of the most compassionate women I have ever met. She does not tolerate fo
ols, does not allow a man’s wealth to determine his desirability, and longs to respect the man she chooses to marry.”

  “This sounds very much like what you told me of Miss Knowlton, Richard.” Lord Matlock insisted. “Are we, by chance, speaking of the same woman?”

  Darcy answered. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire is the daughter of a gentleman. Her mother has family in trade, including Mr. Edward Gardiner, proprietor of Gardiner Trading Co. She is a true friend of Georgiana’s.”

  “In trade?” His uncle clutched his chest as if he would keel over dead at the thought.

  “Yes, in trade. Her other uncle is a solicitor in the farming community of Meryton.” In truth, Darcy did not need the permission and agreement of his family. He was his own master. Yet, respect and affection for the man in front of him begged him to tread carefully.

  “You could do better, Darcy. Even Anne would prove to be a superior match.”

  “You fail to understand me, Uncle.” Darcy took a deep breath before continuing. “There will be no other as my wife. Not Anne. Not a wealthy, titled debutante from the ton. I will not be moved on this. At all.” Though firm, his tone was as inoffensive as he could make it under the circumstances.

  “You have made her an offer then?” His uncle rubbed his chin, his eyes looking distantly at the wall behind him.

  “I have.”

  “And she refused you?”

  “She has.”

  Hugh Fitzwilliam chuckled. “I believe I just might like this young woman more than Miss Knowlton. When can we meet her, Darcy?”

  The relief Darcy felt at having his uncle capitulate so easily made his limbs weak. His uncle loved a challenge almost as much as he loved seeing Darcy put in his place.

  Darcy had thought long and hard how to approach his family and, fortunately, it had worked.

  “She will be attending the opera tomorrow night with Richard, Miss Knowlton, and myself. Might you and Aunt Helen attend?”

  He held his breath, almost certain his uncle would insist on a private meeting first to appraise Elizabeth’s looks and character. He would have done so under other circumstances, so was surprised at his uncle’s response.

  “Let me speak with Helen to see if she already has plans. If not, we shall be there.”

  Darcy swallowed and noted Richard had done the same. Nothing more was said about Georgiana, a victory for the two guardians.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Has there been any talk below stairs about my sister?” Darcy tugged his coat sleeves into place as Parker finished the knot of his cravat.

  “None, sir.” The older man lowered his voice. “Though, might I know of Miss Darcy’s condition? Is she well? Is there any service I could provide to ease her way?”

  “What is it you discerned about her illness, Parker?” His valet had served his father before him and had a long history of loyalty to the family. This was not the first time his opinion had been asked by a Darcy.

  “I know only what I witnessed at Billingsgate, sir.” His valet paused, clearing his throat. “I entered the carriage immediately after you walked away carrying Miss Darcy. Seeing the stain on the floor, I called to the nearest fishmonger and purchased two codfish. Though the driver must have wondered at my actions, I purposefully dropped them onto the floor whereupon I requisitioned cloths to wipe up the mess. When we returned to Darcy House, I overheard the driver complaining about my accident as the reason for the stain. None are the wiser.”

  “I thank you, Parker.” Darcy’s shoulders relaxed, grateful the man had insisted on overseeing the loading of his and Georgiana’s luggage on the ship, and he knew his valet was aware of it. “I would not have anyone speaking of my sister and speculating as to the cause of her distress.”

  “No, sir.”

  With a quick brush of the fabric, Darcy peered at his reflection in his dressing room mirror. Like his uncle, he decided to divert attention.

  “Parker, you might as well know, I intend to marry.” He took deliberate delight in the look of shock on his valet’s face. Rarely had it happened that the man’s expression was anything other than stoic.

  “I am pleased to hear that, sir. Darcy House and Pemberley would benefit from having a mistress. Do I know the young lady?”

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet from Longbourn.” He was pleased to say her name and would only be happier when he could refer to her as Mrs. Darcy.

  “Ah, the miss who came to Netherfield Park to care for her sister.” Parker busied himself putting away the three coats his master had rejected. “A good choice, Mr. Darcy.”

  “That is so. However, though I have chosen her to be my wife, she has yet to be convinced I could be the husband for her.” He could not explain the sudden pride he felt that she was a woman to be won. He shook his head at himself.

  “If I might say so, sir, should she be at all influenced by your appearance, you should be betrothed before the evening is over. You are at your finest.”

  “Thank you, Parker.” Darcy turned his cuffs so the emerald links shone. An image of Elizabeth’s eyes twinkling under the candlelight made him smile.

  Downstairs, he gathered his outer garments and entered the carriage. He had not seen Elizabeth since their conversation the day prior. When he had called on Georgiana earlier that day, Elizabeth had been with her young cousins. Mrs. Gardiner had greeted him and taken him to his sister. He had hoped to see Elizabeth or, at the least, hear her voice. Disappointment filled him to his toes that he had not.

  Upon arriving at Gracechurch Street and being ushered inside, his breath rushed out at seeing her posed at the top of the staircase. She was glorious. He could not wait. Ignoring his hosts, he rushed up the stairs, skipping every other one, until he lifted her hand, bowing over it and touching his lips to her glove. He longed to pull her into his arms, to hold her and never let her go.

  She would probably kick him in the shins if he tried. Or, knowing her fiery nature, she would double her fist and give him a shiner on his left eye, bruising the knuckles of her dominant hand as she punched him with her full might. In a second, he pondered the risk and decided to shelve his desires for another, more appropriate, time.

  “I understand your rush, sir. You would like to see your sister before we depart.” Her voice broke into his inappropriate fantasy.

  What sister? Oh, Georgiana! He could feel the heat rising from his chest to the tips of his ears and regretted having Parker give his hair a trim. Regaining his composure, or rather, searching for it in the first place, he replied as expected, “Of course.”

  Georgiana was sitting up, leaning against a pile of pillows, a cup of tea in her hands. She looked away from him as soon as he entered. It was the same reaction as had happened at his morning visit. He approached the bed, even though it appeared he was unwelcome, grateful Elizabeth followed behind him.

  Earlier, he had sat in the chair next to the bed in silence for over an hour. Not once had his sister responded to any of his enquiries. He hoped for a better response this time.

  “Sister, I hope your day has been one of relaxation and healing?”

  She did not reply, nor did she move her head to glance at him.

  Disappointed, he tried again. “Georgie, can I provide anything for your comfort?”

  Again, nothing.

  “Mrs. Gardiner told me this morning that you refused the medications the doctor had suggested. Has the pain lessened, then?”

  He heard the rattle before he saw the cup shaking on the saucer. This was his sister, the little girl who used to twirl in the sunbeams shining through the windows at Pemberley. The one he gave riding lessons to from the time she could toddle. The one who had trouble saying words with “s’s” in them when her front teeth were missing. He had held her in his arms each time he was sent back to school after their mother died, and he had held her hand when they sat in the Darcy pew at church, alone after the loss of their father.

  Rescuing the cup, he handed it back to Elizabeth wi
thout taking his eyes away from the precious girl in front of him.

  “Georgie,” speaking softly, he made the decision to do something against his character—something he would, under normal circumstances, rather take a beating than do. He opened his heart. “When I realised what had happened, what Wickham had done, I was not angry with you. I was not disappointed in you either. I was sad for you. Sad at your loss of innocence. Sad you would suffer. Sad you would be learning hard lessons for someone barely sixteen.”

  He gulped. “Pray, do not fear I will abandon you, for I will not. Do not fear I will hate you, for there is nothing within your power to cause me to turn against you. Do not fear I look at you to only see your sin, for I do not. I see my pretty little sister, the best friend of my youth.”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached for her hand. “Love means forgiving when we err. Love means we stand alongside each other when we are troubled. I love you, Georgiana, and I always will.”