Page 32 of Mission to Meryton (Pride and Prejudice Variation #25)
“Mr. Darcy,” the butler of Darcy House proclaimed as brother and sister entered the front vestibule, “the Earl and Countess of Matlock are waiting for you in the east sitting room.”
Darcy was briefly startled, and then irritated with himself for being surprised. Of course with Anne’s elopement, and Lady Catherine’s ensuing outrage, the Matlocks would wish to speak to him.
“Georgiana, I must speak to our uncle and aunt. Would you care to refresh yourself in your chambers?”
“Yes, please!” Georgiana whispered thankfully. She liked her Matlock relations far more than Lady Catherine, but she found the earl, in particular, quite intimidating.
“Reynolds, would you arrange for refreshments?” Darcy requested of his butler.
“I have already sent brandy and tea and cakes to the sitting room.”
Darcy nodded gratefully as he metaphorically girded himself for battle. “Thank you.”
The earl, who was standing by the fire, took a few agitated steps toward his nephew as soon as Darcy had entered the room. “Darcy, at last! Where have you been?”
“Good afternoon, Lord and Lady Matlock,” Darcy responded with careful courtesy. “I apologize for being away this morning, but I had some rather urgent business to conduct.”
“Were you searching for Anne?” his aunt demanded, anxiety written large upon her face.
Darcy hesitated briefly as he looked down into his aunt’s face; Lady Matlock was a handsome woman of some fifty years, and she was much beloved by her children and extended family.
While the Earl was sober and occasionally imperious in company, his lady was generally quite warm, though she could also deliver a set down as needed.
It occurred to Darcy, for the first time, that in character his aunt was somewhat similar to Miss Bennet, though Miss Bennet was a petite brunette and Lady Matlock a statuesque blonde.
The earl cleared his throat menacingly, and Darcy realized he had not answered the question.
“My apologies, madam, but no. I have no idea where Anne is, and I suspect that by this time, she is already married. Furthermore, it seems her husband is a decent man, and thus there is no cause for great alarm.”
His uncle’s face took on the rich hue of an unripe plum. “Decent man? A fourth son of a knight? A clergyman? Are you quite mad, Darcy? Worse than that, is it possible that you are actually involved in this most scandalous elopement? What have you to say for yourself, sir?”
“Matlock,” his wife said warningly, “take care how you speak.”
Darcy had been prepared to snap back in anger, but his aunt’s intervention helped him swallow his indignant words.
“No, sir, my first intimation of Anne’s flight was when Lady Catherine invaded my house yesterday.
Indeed, I know nothing of this matter beyond what Lady Catherine shared with me.
But as to Anne – she is five and twenty and her health will not permit her to come to London for the rigors of a Season.
Based on Lady Catherine’s description, Mr. Fitzroy seems a sober, diligent and intelligent man, who will be able to assist in overseeing the estate and will treat her well. ”
“He is a nobody, Darcy, a nobody! Anne was to marry you!”
“That is what we were both told, but clearly Anne did not wish to marry me, and I did not wish to marry her, Lord Matlock.”
If possible, his uncle’s expression grew even more thunderous, and his lady spoke with acerbity. “It would have been best if you had made that clear years ago, Darcy.”
Her nephew heaved a great sigh and nodded.
“You are correct, Madam. In truth, I was torn between my own disinclination for the match and my feeling of responsibility to take the reins of Rosings out of Anne’s admittedly feeble fingers.
I feared that if I declined the honor of my cousin’s hand, my aunt would choose another husband based more on rank and wealth than on ability to administer the estate.
Since heart and duty were in conflict, I chose to make no decision, which was in itself a decision.
I do regret that. I should have been open and honest with Anne long ago and allowed her to seek out another husband. ”
“Yes, you should have,” Matlock said darkly. “The Lord only knows what this Fitzroy will do to the estate.”
“It cannot be worse than the actions of many upper class gentlemen,” Darcy retorted.
“You know that many gentlemen think only of how to wrest as much money from the land as possible to spend on their own pleasures. Mr. Fitzroy is a diligent man of God with a heart for the poor. I have no fears that he will waste the coffers of Rosings at the gambling tables.”
There was a long silence, and then the Earl’s shoulders slumped hopelessly.
“I fear you are correct that nothing can be done. Well, we must arrange for a truly excellent marriage for you, then; if, as I suspect, Anne is unable to bear children, Rosings will likely come to your heirs eventually. Rachel, do you have any suggestions for our nephew?”
“Pardon me, but I beg you both not to trouble yourselves. I am in pursuit of a young lady at the moment, a gentleman's daughter from Hertfordshire who is having her first season in London this spring.”
Lord Matlock stared at his nephew in open horror. “What nonsense is this? Where did you meet this person?”
“I met Miss Elizabeth Bennet last fall in Hertfordshire while I was the guest of my friend, Charles Bingley. Indeed, Bingley married Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Bennet’s older sister, only a few months ago.
Miss Bennet and Georgiana have been corresponding for several months, and Georgie considers Elizabeth a dear friend. ”
“Bennet?” his uncle inquired irascibly. “I have never heard of the Bennets!”
“That is not surprising, as Mr. Bennet rarely comes to London. He is a very intelligent country squire with a pleasant estate near Meryton in Hertfordshire. There are five daughters and no sons, and the estate will pass, interestingly enough, to Mr. Collins, Lady Catherine’s rector.”
The earl puffed several times and then turned a choleric eye on his wife. “I believe the young people have gone quite mad, Lady Matlock. An impoverished daughter of a country gentleman to be the next Mistress of Pemberley? It is insanity itself!”
“My dear Matlock, might I suggest you go for a walk in the garden while I speak to our nephew?”his helpmeet suggested.
The earl champed his jaws several times and then, with a disgusted look at Darcy, stomped silently toward the door.
“Now, Darcy, let us speak of this young lady of yours, shall we?” Lady Matlock suggested.
/
Darcy was fuming by the time his noble relations finally left the house, but he managed a smile when Georgiana poked her head timidly into the parlor. “Are they gone?”
“Yes, they are.”
She stepped closer, her face twisted with worry. “Were they very upset?”
Darcy forced himself to relax his grimace and a moment later, a most unaccustomed surge of humor caused him to chuckle openly. “Our uncle was absolutely outraged, yes, and our aunt was quite uneasy.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened in confusion. “Why are they upset?”
He swept forward to embrace his sister. “They wish for me to marry a dull, well-bred lady with excellent connections and an enormous dowry. But Anne has led the way, and I will follow her; we will neither of us marry according to societal status and wealth. We both are following our hearts.”
“So you will not let them dissuade you?” his sister whispered worriedly.
“No,” Darcy declared firmly. “I will not let them discourage or deter me. Indeed, I will attempt to imitate Miss Bennet and declare that my courage rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”
/
Elizabeth could no longer doubt what, even a few days ago, would have seemed impossible; Mr. Darcy of Pemberley was courting her.
The invitation to dine at Darcy House had duly arrived the previous day, and included a hand written note from Mr. Darcy himself which indicated, delicately but clearly, that he greatly looked forward to spending time specifically with her.
On the one hand, it was entirely a dream come true.
Last year, when she had first met Mr. Darcy, when she had been insulted by Mr. Darcy, she had thought him prideful and arrogant and entirely irritating.
But then had come his apology, and his courageous assistance when French spies sought to steal the family tulips.
He was intelligent, diligent, and brave.
He was also handsome, well read, and a pleasure to converse with.
She had spent much of the winter trying not to think about Mr. Darcy, though he often encroached on her thoughts at odd moments during the day, and sometimes even on her dreams at night.
Her sister Jane was entirely happy with her new husband, Charles Bingley, and Elizabeth had been overjoyed for her elder sister, but also a little envious.
Elizabeth was not as serene as Jane, and she would have difficulty finding a husband who could match her quick mind.
No doubt with her considerable beauty and reasonable dowry, she would attract the attentions of many men during the London Season, but it would be difficult to separate the wheat from the chaff, especially since men, and women, often put on false faces during dances and assemblies.
She was confident that she knew Mr. Darcy well enough to be in love with him; indeed, she was in love with him. But until yesterday, though, she had thought it a forlorn love, since the master of Pemberley was destined for his cousin, Anne de Bourgh of Rosings.
She gazed into the mirror with a mixture of joy and concern; joy because Mr. Darcy was, she believed, the perfect man for her, but concern because she was but the daughter of a country gentleman. Were her clothes beautiful enough, and her antecedents sufficiently elevated, and ...?
“Mr. Darcy likes you because of who you are, Lizzy,” Lydia declared from the window seat where the youngest Miss Bennet was curled up with a fashion magazine.
Elizabeth glared at her sister with mock outrage. “Are you saying that you know my very thoughts?”
“You look concerned, which is unusual, and we are going to Darcy House tonight, so it is not difficult to imagine what you are thinking.”
Elizabeth compressed her lips and turned back to the mirror. “I wish that our new gowns from the modiste were ready. I have nothing truly special to wear.”
“Nonsense, Lizzy,” Lydia said, rolling gracefully to her feet and stretching languorously, like a cat. “The green gown with the silver buttons is lovely and matches the highlights in your eyes. Mr. Darcy will be enchanted with you.”
Elizabeth bit her lip and peered back into the mirror. “I hope so. You know I rarely struggle with doubts about myself, but Mr. Darcy is rich, intelligent, and well connected. I am a gentleman’s daughter, but our family is certainly not part of the haut ton.”
“Yes, and Mr. Darcy has been pursued mercilessly by avaricious ladies for eight years, Lizzy. That is no doubt partly why Mr. Darcy is attracted to you. Unlike other women, you do not simper and smirk and grovel at his feet. I have no doubt that your impertinence is what drew him to you initially, and your intelligence, wit, and charm which keep him circling around you like a moth around a flame.”
Elizabeth regarded her youngest sister with amazement. “Your insight is astonishing, my dear. How do you know all this?”
“Mr. Wickham told me. You know he and Mr. Darcy are very close friends, and Mr. Wickham said that women have been trying to win an offer from the master of Pemberley since he was a twenty! It is no surprise that it has given Mr. Darcy something of a disgust for our sex.”
Elizabeth was aware of a twinge of concern. “It seems you have spoken quite openly with Mr. Wickham.”
Lydia smiled, though it seemed a little forced. “You need not worry, Elizabeth; Mr. Wickham has always been entirely honorable in his dealings. He has told me, indirectly but clearly, that he cannot marry for several years, and in any case, I am too young to wed.”
“Yes, you are,” Elizabeth said firmly.