Page 20 of Mr Darcy Gets Angry

Darcy returned shortly before dinner, in better spirits.

He had slept, and in his eyes she read the remembrance of some dreams in which she had been present.

The eyes cannot speak , Elizabeth Bennet, she reproved herself.

Yet, it signified little, for she felt assured of the message they conveyed.

They sought to check their own happiness, though Lady Matlock, absorbed in her own concerns, took scarcely any notice of what passed around her.

“Pray excuse me,” she said to Elizabeth, touching her cheek with the gentlest motion. “I rejoice for you both; yet with each passing hour, my anxiety increases. I have relinquished the hope that Miss Henry harboured no concealed design in attaching herself to Richard.”

The young people seated themselves in some haste upon a settee before her.

“Lady Stafford did indeed receive Miss Henry and her aunt, but it was in February. Since then, they have rented a house.”

“But your friend declared that Lady Stafford had received them in the summer!” cried Mary.

“Yes—and it is alarming that none can speak with certainty of their doings in London. I am persuaded it was they who spread this false news.”

“Then they have no house in London?” asked Darcy.

“No. I ought to have consented to take her with us to Pemberley.”

“Richard requested it of you?”

“Yes. He wanted her to be our guest in his absence. I should have agreed. It is wiser to keep one’s adversaries within sight.”

“What do you mean?” Darcy’s voice was so gentle that Elizabeth’s heart melted with love. He was tender and considerate towards all his family. “At that time, she was not your enemy.”

“No, you are right. I merely disliked her.”

“But at Pemberley you said—”

“What would you have had me say before such a company, that I distrusted my son’s choice?

You cannot know what your poor father and I endured from your grandmother, the Dowager Lady Matlock.

Of all the family, she liked only Sir Lewis de Bourgh—and that, I believe, was because he remained silent in her presence. ”

“I did not know it,” Darcy said, much interested.

“No, children seldom do. For the sake of that old grievance, I was resolved to think well of Miss Henry in spite of my feelings, and was certain that in time I should receive her into my heart.”

“But why—how did you know?”

Lady Matlock paused. “Look at the young lady beside you.”

Darcy did as his aunt directed and seen his radiant betrothed.

“We spent a week together at Pemberley, and I am certain her affection did not begin this morning.”

Elizabeth sought to hide her blush by fixing her gaze upon the intricate pattern of the carpet, yet her emotion was manifest.

“See how she blushes,” Lady Matlock said fondly.

“She was near you for a week at Pemberley, and not once did she betray her feelings. And I am a most observant person. I discerned it only by your manner…” She smiled at her nephew.

“But when Richard presented Miss Henry, she comported herself as a wife—so improper, so over-familiar—”

She broke off, for all understood the implication.

“She is with him in Eastbourne,” Lady Matlock said, tears filling her eyes. “That wicked, wicked woman!”

For some moments, they remained in silence. Then she spoke again. “I shall retire to my apartment, and I am certain Miss Mary will gladly return to the library. Pray, Darcy, receive Mr and Mrs Gardiner, and we will join you at dinner.”

Elizabeth watched her depart with warm regard. In so short a time, she had grown attached to this lady, so unlike the women of her acquaintance.

“She is considerate enough to let us enjoy the announcement we are about to make,” Elizabeth said.

“She is fond of you…she is not merely polite,” Darcy replied with a smile, well knowing his aunt’s nature.

“Oh, I am so glad,” Elizabeth answered, though he had already taken her into his arms. “My aunt and uncle are coming.” She made some effort to resist, but it was in vain.

His lips upon hers made her forget every care.

He was tender, yet insistent, and she yielded at last to the tide of feeling he had unleashed in her.

She smiled at the word—rightly named this time.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth and Mr Darcy received the Gardiners in the elegant drawing-room where he had proposed.

They already shared memories there, but while Elizabeth recalled that she was soon to be his wife with everything that implied, Mr Darcy thought only of her body so close to his, surprised by the intensity of his passion and the urgency of his desire.

He had never imagined that love could add such depth to the physical closeness.

He smiled at her relatives, for he genuinely liked them. If Lady Matlock could temper her inward displeasure towards the wife of her son, surely he could also accept her mother and some of her sisters.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner looked somewhat surprised not to find Lady Matlock and Mary present; yet the meaning was plain from the smiles of the young couple.

“Mr Gardiner, Mrs Gardiner,” Darcy said, “I would avail myself of your presence to request Elizabeth’s hand.”

With heartfelt pleasure, they both advanced to offer their congratulations. Mr Gardiner’s eyes glistened, while his wife’s satisfaction was so evident that Elizabeth embraced her with all affection.

“I shall also seek Mr Bennet’s consent, and trust we shall find him and the rest of the family in London upon our return from Eastbourne.”

Elizabeth murmured to her aunt, “He wished to marry me today.” She had meant it for a reproach, yet it betrayed the pride she felt in her future husband and the happiness.

“Jane is also betrothed,” she said, and her aunt nodded. She already knew that a letter had arrived at their home, too.

“What have you decided regarding the colonel?” Mr Gardiner asked.

But both ladies turned to the gentlemen.

Although the joy of their marriage was great, that evening the colonel was the main subject and the sole concern.

Darcy looked at them with gratitude. They were soon to be family, and he knew how united they were.

Yet, the Gardiners, Elizabeth, and Mary had been ready to offer their aid long before, when there had been nothing between them but friendship.

Family and friendship were, to them, above all other considerations.

For the first time since the vexations had begun concerning Elizabeth’s family, he perceived that although some among them might not possess perfect manners, might commit occasional blunders in society, or might be overly fond of gossip, these defects were insignificant beside their principles and their steadfast rule of life, which were in perfect accord with those of his own family.

At length, he was wholly reconciled to his choice.

It was not solely a matter of the heart, but a determination of the reason.

With such persons, he might set forth into life without any apprehension.

“At first I had intended to go alone, but—” Darcy hesitated, uncertain how to justify Elizabeth’s presence without reviving recollections that could do him no credit. Elizabeth, however, spared him, for she thought as he did. The past was set aside; all that mattered was the present and the future.

“In brief, for a cause that concerns them, Colonel Fitzwilliam entertains certain doubts as to Mr Darcy’s judgement respecting ladies.”

Unwillingly, she glanced at him and smiled, and Darcy answered at once.

“I believe myself sufficiently acquainted with ladies, having sought the hand of your niece in marriage. It is an old matter, but Miss Elizabeth speaks truly. My word alone would not suffice, and the proofs we possess are not enough to convince him.”

“I shall accompany you,” said Mr Gardiner; and every eye was turned upon him.

“We had intended to take Lady Matlock’s companion—”

“Mr Darcy, that will not be necessary,” interrupted Mr Gardiner firmly. “I believe my presence may be of consequence; I was a witness to the beginning of this affair.”

“I thank you,” exclaimed Darcy with sincerity and confidence.

∞∞∞

Dinner was neither as cheerful as in happier times, nor yet a sombre circumstances. Lady Matlock’s tacit approval of her nephew’s choice sufficed for the Gardiners, who participated with all their hearts to her apprehensions.

“Lady Matlock,” Mr Gardiner said, “I shall accompany Elizabeth—pray be at ease. We have considered the matter with Mr Darcy, and this is the wisest course.”

“I thank you, sir,” Darcy replied. “My aunt was courageous in agreeing to accompany us, but even the annual visits to Matlock Manor and Pemberley are a fatigue to her.”

Indeed, she already appeared more tranquil at the thought of remaining behind.

“Would it be too much to request that Miss Mary remain with me until their return?”

A slight stir arose about the table, which she at first mistook for refusal, though it was in truth surprise.

“I understand,” she continued, “Mrs Gardiner will be alone.”

But Mrs Gardiner smiled and shook her head. “With four young children, I am far from alone, my lady. I am certain Mary will be happy to stay with you.”

All eyes turned to Mary, who in that instant forgot her composure and clapped her hands like a child, before blushing delightfully.

“I imagine that applause is not for me, but for the library,” Lady Matlock said with a smile. “I have never known a young lady to read more than our Miss.”

How the once-neglected Mary Bennet had become “our Miss” in Matlock House was a mystery to Elizabeth; yet the change was plain to see. Perhaps, like a rare bloom, her sister required only the proper soil in which to thrive.

“Forgive me, my lady,” Mary said with genuine confusion, “but there are so many treasures hidden on your shelves.”

Lady Matlock smiled. “Yes—‘hidden’ is well said. Lord Matlock long wished to engage a librarian, but it never came to pass. You, Miss Mary, may undertake whatever you think needful to render our library less a wilderness.”

“Perhaps you might follow the arrangement used at Pemberley,” Elizabeth suggested, glancing at Darcy.

And so the evening passed in pleasant discourse upon books and their ordering.

“This is the most agreeable evening I have known in some time,” Lady Matlock observed.

“And most fitting in our present troubles—thank you.” Her gaze rested on Elizabeth.

Such praise was intended not solely for the conversation but for the understanding shown by the young couple, who had postponed their marriage until her son was safe.

Lady Matlock rose. “I must beg to be excused. I need rest. This affair has worn me greatly. But pray, remain, and settle the details of your journey.”

Mrs Gardiner looked after her with concern; she seemed much altered from the cheerful, energetic lady she had known at Pemberley.

“Your aunt appears deeply affected. I think she should guard her health,” she said.

“Yes, she considers Richard her unfortunate child, because the title and estate descend only to the elder son.”

“We mean to treat all our children alike,” said Mr Gardiner. “One does not choose one’s place in a family, and it is unjust to those born later.”

Mr Darcy said nothing, but inclined his head; and in his eyes Elizabeth saw the reflection of their future children and the same principles by which they should be raised.

This time, however, she was mistaken. His thoughts were not with their unborn offspring, but with her, and his desire that she should be his wife without further delay.

The hours since his resolve had been taken seemed like a distant age; he was already weary of waiting.

“I thank you again for deciding to accompany us. I shall endeavour to persuade my uncle to remain behind. The journey to Southampton has already fatigued him. He will be in London by tomorrow night at the latest, and we shall set out for Eastbourne the morning after.”

Mr Gardiner bowed with marked respect, and his wife alone perceived the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. If Mr Darcy became a member of their family, there was a prospect that his trade might gain the custom of a new circle.

∞∞∞

On the way home, Mr Gardiner found leisure to share a secret plan with his wife.

“I think it is time we moved to another part of Town,” he said.

“That is a serious step, my dear, and not an easy one.”

“I know; yet the new prospects in our nieces’ lives make it almost necessary.”

“I enjoy living in Gracechurch Street.”

“You know very well what I amen, but by removing, I might gain other clients, such as those who reside in these neighbourhoods.”

“We are plain people, and I do not esteem Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst for attempting to be more than they are.”

“Yes, but we might preserve our manner of living while changing our residence. It would be of advantage to my trade, and we should be near Lizzy and Jane.”

Mrs Gardiner was reluctant. She was attached to their house and garden; it was her home.

Though she felt at ease with such persons as Lady Matlock, she doubted she should find friends in these parts of Town they now passed.

He saw only the commercial benefit; she, as a woman, discerned another aspect.

She delighted in going off in the morning to the market with the maid, meeting neighbours with like concerns and habits, and lingering to talk, or taking tea with a friend.

She hoped that, once the colonel’s troubles were resolved, her husband might reconsider.

While they would be welcome at the houses of Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley, he might secure as many clients as he wished without removing.

“Let us be content for the present on Elizabeth’s account,” she said in the darkness of the carriage. “After our return from Pemberley, I had no hope that Mr Darcy would ever renew his proposal. Imagine the stir at Longbourn now, with two daughters making such distinguished marriages.”