Page 23

Darcy House

A Few Minutes Earlier

The carriage swayed to a halt, and outside the window, one of the Darcy footmen leapt forward to open the door and let down the steps. Mr. Bennet descended and turned to hand out Jane, then reached back in for Elizabeth, while Jane took a minute to adjust her skirts and the lace fichu across her shoulders. Though none of them were dressed as for an assembly or Sunday church, she and Elizabeth had both taken care over choosing their gowns and their simple jewelry, and Charity had assisted both girls to style their hair.

Elizabeth looked up at the front facade of Darcy House, as her father helped her alight from the carriage. It was a neatly kept edifice, made of deep red brick with dark shutters, the trim cleanly painted and the corners crisp and defined. Even the mortar was uniform and sturdy, with no sign of age or crumbling wear about it. The marble steps had been recently swept and washed, and three pairs of shoes clicked pleasingly as the Bennets climbed up to the door .

Elizabeth took a deep breath as she prepared to meet Miss Darcy for the first time. She still remembered Wickham's claim that the girl was proud and unpleasant. At the time, Elizabeth had believed him without reservation, but now Wickham was proven a liar many times over. Mr. Darcy, proven an honest and reliable gentleman, had assured her that Georgiana was looking forward to becoming acquainted, and Elizabeth could only hope that the upcoming visit would be mutually pleasing.

She did not have time for further reflections. Even as Mr. Bennet reached for the knocker, a heavy brass ring in a glaring lion's mouth, the door swung open. A very correct butler welcomed them in, and a maid stepped forward to curtsey and accept Mr. Bennet's hat and cane and gloves and the ladies’ hats.

Elizabeth looked around the vestibule with pleasure. One of Callcott’s paintings hung on a wall, blending nicely with the golden wood paneling and the tiles of blue and green and aqua that covered the floor. Several side tables lined the wall, and a blue and white porcelain vase held a bouquet of dried roses.

“Jane!” a male voice cried out, and Elizabeth watched as Bingley hurried into the room, his eyes sparkling with pleasure.

“Charles,” Jane replied joyfully. “Good evening. ”

“It is a good evening now that you are here,” he said with obvious adoration, and then turned and said, “Mr. Bennet, Elizabeth, good evening.”

Elizabeth and her father murmured their greetings, and the butler announced, “The master is expecting you in the drawing room.”

Bingley said, “Yes, of course, Darcy will be waiting for us. Shall we?”

Elizabeth took her father’s arm and followed Jane and Charles down the hall a short way and then into a large room, filled with furniture which was elegant but sturdy, fine but not pointlessly ostentatious.

Three people stood near the fireplace, and two of them were strangers. Elizabeth’s eyes went first to Mr. Darcy, who was staring at her with his usual intensity. She felt her cheeks warm at the adoration in those dark eyes, and then she turned her attention to the two ladies whom she initially thought must be Miss Darcy and her companion. Seconds later, she was awash with confusion, because the younger lady, while finely dressed, was at least twenty and probably a few years more, and Miss Darcy was but sixteen.

“Will you not introduce me, Cousin?” the woman asked, and Elizabeth cast a startled look at her fiancée. Cousin ?

Darcy smiled and stepped forward, his own eyes fixed on Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, Jane, Bingley, Mr. Bennet, may I please introduce you to my cousin, Anne de Bourgh, and her companion Mrs. Jenkinson? Anne, Mrs. Jenkinson, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Bennet.”

In the midst of her surprise at the identity of the woman, Elizabeth was aware of her satisfaction at the introduction. Miss de Bourgh was, of course, the daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and was thus of higher rank socially than she was. Darcy’s decision to introduce his cousin to Elizabeth first was a sign of his own respect for her, and she could not help but be pleased.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Miss de Bourgh exclaimed, hurrying forward, “many congratulations on your engagement to my cousin!”

This flustered Elizabeth even more. According to Mr. Collins, Miss de Bourgh was expected to marry Mr. Darcy. Why was the lady so satisfied with her engagement to the master of Pemberley?

The door opened again at this juncture to reveal a young lady of some sixteen summers, blonde, blue eyed, and dressed in yellow silk, accompanied by an older woman, sensibly garbed in green .

The pair was introduced as Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley, and Elizabeth discovered, based on the ensuing discussion, that Miss de Bourgh had arrived unexpectedly only a short time earlier, and then the entire party was directed to the dinner table, where Elizabeth found herself seated next to Darcy, who was at the head of the table. Miss de Bourgh was placed across from her, and the rest of the party was scattered around a moderately sized table which would permit the diners to speak to one another with relative ease.

Once the servants had retreated and shut the door, Elizabeth said, “Miss de Bourgh, as you doubtless know, Mr. Collins, who serves as rector of the Hunsford parsonage, is the heir of our family estate of Longbourn. According to my cousin, you and Fitzwilliam have long been tacitly engaged, and yet here you are, congratulating us on our engagement. I confess to confusion.”

Miss de Bourgh took a sip of her wine, lowered her glass, patted her mouth with her napkin, and turned an admiring look on Darcy. “I like her very much, Cousin. We need a forthright lady in the family.”

Darcy grinned and Elizabeth was struck anew with how very handsome the gentleman was when he smiled.

“Indeed, that is one of the reasons I admire Elizabeth so much,” he said, “but I am confident that we would all appreciate a description of the situation as it stands. ”

Miss de Bourgh did so, explaining the arrival of the anonymous letter, and Lady Catherine’s fury, and her departure for Longbourn this very morning. Mr. Bennet, who had been hitherto silent, remarked, “Well, she will be disappointed then, as our entire family is here in London, and our servants will not provide Lady Catherine our direction.”

“She will probably come here, then,” Miss Darcy declared, and Elizabeth, observing her carefully, noted the distress on the young woman’s face.

“If she does, you need not speak to her, dear sister,” Darcy said promptly and then turned to Elizabeth. “I promise you that I will not permit my aunt to upset you or your family in any way.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I know that you are an honorable gentleman, and would never ask me to marry you if you were committed to Miss de Bourgh.”

“That is entirely correct,” Darcy assured her. “My aunt is a strong-willed lady, and she and my mother supposedly thought it would be beneficial if Anne and I married one another, but there were never any documents signed.”

“Moreover, I never wanted to marry Darcy,” Miss de Bourgh said briskly as she cut up a slice of ham with fork and knife, “so I am very pleased that he has found a well-suited bride. The truth is that I am not certain whether I will marry at all, and before I even consider such a thing, I will be wresting the reins of power from my mother, because as of three weeks ago, on my birthday, I am the legal mistress of our family estate of Rosings.”

Elizabeth blinked. “You are the legal mistress of Rosings?”

Anne de Bourgh smiled. “Indeed, I am, and I anticipate that soon Lady Catherine will be sufficiently busy battling me that she will not have the time to bother you, Miss Elizabeth.”

“That would be pleasant,” Darcy mused, “though I think that Lady Catherine is capable of pitched battles with more than one person at the same time. But let us speak of this letter. Do you have any idea who sent it?”

“I have no idea,” Anne said, “but we brought the letter with us. Mrs. Jenkinson?”

The lady promptly dug into her reticule, removed a piece of paper, and handed it to Mr. Bennet, who handed it to Anne, who handed it to Darcy at the head of the table.

Darcy took it, opened it, glanced through the contents, folded it, placed it carefully by the table, and said, “Wickham wrote it. ”

Jane gasped, and Elizabeth said, “Are you certain? But I had forgotten you knew him well once and know his handwriting.”

“I do, very well. He has always had an odd way of writing his M’s, and I recognized them instantly. Nor is it any great surprise, as Wickham is obviously determined to cause as much trouble for me and you as possible.”

“Who is this Wickham?” Anne demanded.

Elizabeth sat back as Darcy explained the matter in detail, though he did not share that Elizabeth had climbed down the trellis to escape the library the night of the ball.

“Well,” Anne said when Darcy was finished, “it seems that this Wickham is a villain and must be dealt with. Indeed, I am puzzled as to why you have never thrown him in debtors’ prison or something of the sort.”

“That is because of me,” Georgiana Darcy blurted out. “It is my fault that Mr. Wickham is so angry with Fitzwilliam.”

“Georgiana,” Darcy said immediately, “that is not true at all.”

“But it is,” Georgiana said, and Elizabeth could see the tears in the girl’s eyes. “Please let me explain what happened last summer at Ramsgate.”

** *

Dining Room

Later

Darcy scraped the last spoonful of plum pudding out of his bowl and then lifted his eyes to Georgiana, who was looking uncertain. He nodded to her, and she blushed and rose to her feet.

“Shall we depart, ladies?” she asked softly, and the other women set down their silverware and rose as one. Darcy smiled approvingly as his little sister guided the ladies out of the room. She was growing up.

“Well, Mr. Darcy,” Bennet remarked as he poured himself some port, “I confess that this evening has been surprising. I think that something should be down about Wickham, but that can wait. How do you think Miss de Bourgh’s rebellion against Lady Catherine de Bourgh will affect your engagement to Elizabeth? ”

Darcy looked at Bennet and was startled at the lift of one eyebrow on that gentleman’s face. It was so much like Elizabeth’s expression when she was amused that his breath caught .

“Perhaps it will make it all easier?” Bingley suggested. “I have heard you speak of Lady Catherine and her determination to rule those around her, but I would think she will be too preoccupied with battling her daughter to bother with your engagement to Elizabeth.”

“Perhaps,” Darcy mused and sighed. “I had hoped for a different evening. We have been so busy of late that I have not had time to speak much with Elizabeth about her desires for our … our engagement. I do not know if she wants to meet my relations, or to attend parties, or go to museums, or visit bookstores, or what, exactly.”

Bennet chuckled and said, “I am confident about the museums and bookstores, anyway. She will delight in that. But perhaps when we join the ladies, you and Elizabeth can find a corner to talk.”

“And I hope to speak to Jane as well,” Bingley said, “though in our case, I want to pick a wedding date. I do not see any reason to delay beyond a fortnight at the most.”

“Mrs. Bennet is determined that her daughters have appropriate wedding attire, but that should not take too long,” Bennet said, “and I am certainly agreeable to an early wedding date.”

“We will need to arrange for the settlements too,” Bingley said .

“Indeed,” his prospective father-in-law agreed and turned to Darcy. “I am aware that your wedding is dependent on Elizabeth actually agreeing to marry you, so you need not consider the settlements yet, I suppose.”

“I visited my solicitor only yesterday and have discussed the matter,” Darcy said. “I wish to make it clear to Elizabeth that if she does accept my hand in marriage, I will ensure that she and any children are well provided for.”

Bennet took another sip of wine and said, “I will not influence Elizabeth one way or another, but I think that you and she would do well together, Mr. Darcy.”

“Thank you, sir.”