Page 72 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)
Chapter Twenty-Five
One week had passed since Anne’s departure for Rosings, one week since Darcy House had been freed from the shadow of murder and betrayal that had hung over it like a funeral pall.
Life continued, as it must, the Season’s obligations resuming their insistent rhythm despite the tragedies that had unfolded within these walls.
The anticipated arrival of Sir Richard and Lady Fitzwilliam had brought a gentle anticipation to the household that morning, particularly visible in Elizabeth, who had overseen the preparation of Jane’s favourite dishes for luncheon and had twice rearranged the flowers in the drawing room.
Darcy smiled as he looked down from his study window and saw the carriage drawing up before the steps.
“They have arrived,” he announced, hearing Elizabeth’s light tread in the corridor behind him. He turned to find her already at the doorway, her face brightened with genuine pleasure for perhaps the first time since Lady Catherine’s shocking death.
“I shall greet them,” she said, barely containing her eagerness as she swept toward the entrance hall, Darcy following at a more measured pace.
The reunion between the sisters was a study in affection. Jane, as lovely as ever in a travelling dress of pale blue, embraced Elizabeth with tender warmth, their mutual delight plainly evident. Richard greeted his cousin with a firm handshake and a smile that spoke of genuine gladness.
“You look well, Darcy,” Richard observed, his military bearing somehow softened by civilian life without being diminished. Marriage to Jane had brought a contentment to his countenance that Darcy found most pleasing to observe.
“As do you,” Darcy replied, noting the ease with which Richard assisted Jane with her pelisse, the natural coordination of a couple thoroughly comfortable in each other’s presence. “Country life apparently agrees with you both.”
“Netherfield suits us admirably,” Jane confirmed, her serene smile encompassing both her husband and her sister. “Though we have missed your society.”
Elizabeth’s arm remained linked with her sister’s as they moved toward the drawing room.
“You must tell me everything about home,” she urged.
“How is Father? Has Mary continued with her new study of German philosophers? And has Mrs. Hill finally reconciled herself to Cook’s new method of preparing the beef? ”
Jane laughed softly. “Nothing escapes your notice, Lizzy, even from such a distance.”
Darcy watched their easy intimacy with quiet satisfaction.
The connection between the Bennet sisters had always impressed him, so different from the often strained relationship he had observed between Lady Catherine and his mother, or indeed, between many siblings of his acquaintance for whom family was more obligation than pleasure.
In the drawing room, tea was served. Georgiana and Kitty joined them, their youthful energy providing a pleasant counterpoint to the adults’ more measured conversation.
Darcy observed how naturally both girls were able to participate in the discussion, talking confidently but with great maturity about their recent social engagements and then asking questions about Richard and Jane’s activities at Netherfield.
“Netherfield’s library cannot compare to Pemberley’s, of course,” Richard was saying, “but we have made some worthwhile additions. The study overlooking the east garden has become Jane’s particular domain.”
“Richard has been exceedingly generous,” Jane added, her glance at her husband conveying appreciation beyond mere politeness. “He has commissioned shelves specifically for my botanical specimens and illustrations.”
“Jane has developed quite the scientific approach to gardening,” Richard explained with evident pride. “She has begun correspondance with several notable horticulturists.”
Darcy noted the quiet confidence in Jane’s posture as she accepted this praise, so different from the sometimes painful modesty she had displayed in her unmarried days.
Richard had clearly encouraged her interests rather than merely tolerating them, and the result was a woman who had blossomed beyond the beautiful but reserved girl she had once been.
“And have you continued with your improvements to the north pastures?” Darcy inquired, recalling Richard’s plans from his last letter.
“Indeed, with considerable success,” Richard replied. “The drainage system you recommended has transformed the lower fields entirely. I believe we shall see twice the yield this harvest.”
As the conversation turned to estate matters, Darcy found his appreciation for his cousin deepening.
Richard had approached his new role as landowner with the same thoroughness he had once applied to military strategy, educating himself thoroughly and implementing improvements with careful consideration rather than mere enthusiasm.
When the ladies became engaged in conversation about a mutual acquaintance in Meryton, Richard caught Darcy’s eye with a subtle gesture toward the library.
Excusing themselves, the two men withdrew to the privacy of Darcy’s favourite room, where Richard accepted a glass of brandy with a grateful nod.
“I had a letter from Bingley last month,” Richard said without preamble once they were seated. “Posted from Boston. He appears to be settling well in America.”
Darcy nodded, a complex mixture of emotions stirring at the mention of his former friend. “I am glad to hear it. His departure was... abrupt.”
“Yes,” Richard agreed, studying the amber liquid in his glass.
“He wished me to inform you that he has fulfilled his promise regarding the Meryton magistrate. He wrote a full account of the circumstances surrounding his sister’s death and his own departure; there was a copy enclosed in my letter, should the one to Mr. Burnley fail to arrive, but when I checked, Burnley had received it.
As you anticipated, he concluded there was nothing to be done about the matter, it having been an accident and Bingley now being beyond the reach of English law. ”
Darcy felt a weight he had scarcely acknowledged lift from his shoulders. “That is... welcome news. I had begun to wonder.”
“Bingley spoke of you with genuine regard,” Richard continued carefully. “I believe he still considers you a friend.”
“Perhaps,” Darcy replied, unwilling to examine too closely the complicated emotions Bingley’s name evoked. “In any case, I am glad he has found a new beginning.”
Richard nodded, perhaps sensing that Darcy did not wish to pursue the subject, and changed it, speaking further of Netherfield and the improvements he had begun to implement for the tenants.
They rejoined the ladies, finding them engaged in planning a summer house party at Netherfield.
The animation in Elizabeth’s face as she discussed a visit reminded Darcy forcibly of the spirited young woman he had first encountered at the Meryton assembly, and had found himself unwillingly enchanted by shortly thereafter.
Observing the obvious joy Elizabeth was finding in Jane’s presence, Kitty’s enthusiastic participation, and Georgiana’s quiet but genuine interest in the conversation, Darcy felt a profound gratitude.
Life continued, despite loss. Happiness remained possible, despite sorrow.
The Season progressed, society functioned, and within the walls of Darcy House, healing had begun.
Perhaps that was the greatest lesson to be drawn from the painful events of recent weeks: that darkness, however profound, eventually yielded to light.
Lord Shandly had become an increasingly familiar figure at Darcy House in the weeks following Lady Catherine’s death.
Darcy observed his attentions to Kitty with the careful scrutiny he applied to all matters concerning his young charges, noting how the viscount’s theatrical tendencies seemed tempered in her presence, his natural flamboyance channelled into genuine efforts to bring smiles to her face during a difficult time.
When Harrison announced Lord Shandly’s arrival one Tuesday morning, requesting a private audience, Darcy was unsurprised, having anticipated this development with increasing certainty.
“Show him in,” Darcy instructed, setting aside the correspondence he had been reviewing.
He rose as the viscount entered, noting the uncharacteristic tension in the young man’s customarily graceful movements.
Lord Shandly was impeccably dressed as always, his cravat arranged in an elaborate style, his coat of deep blue superfine cut to emphasise his excellent figure.
“Darcy,” Shandly began, then corrected himself with unaccustomed formality. “Mr. Darcy, I appreciate your granting me this interview.”
“Please be seated, Lord Shandly,” Darcy gestured to the chair opposite his desk, studying the younger man’s face with interest. The theatrical confidence that typically animated his features had given way to a more genuine nervousness that Darcy found rather reassuring under the circumstances.
Shandly sat with careful precision, then rose again immediately, apparently unable to contain his restless energy.
“I shall come directly to the point, sir. I have developed a deep and sincere attachment to Miss Catherine Bennet, and I wish to request your permission, as her guardian, to ask for her hand in marriage.”
Despite having anticipated this request, Darcy allowed a moment of silence to fall between them, watching as Shandly shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“You are aware, I presume, that Miss Bennet’s circumstances are modest?
Her portion is small, and while her connections through marriage are advantageous, her birth is not what society might expect for the future Countess of Roxworth. ”