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Story: Mr. Darcy’s Runaway Bride
Darcy
I t was a fine, summer morning, the clouds just covering enough of the brightness to keep Darcy from feeling as constricted as he had the night before.
The park was thankfully nearly void of people as he walked alongside his cousin.
Nearby, the church bells at St Martin’s in the Field rang, announcing a wedding about to begin.
Beside him, Colonel Fitzwilliam hurried to keep pace.
“You seem troubled, Darcy,” Richard ventured. “Has something occurred to disturb your composure?”
Darcy’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Nothing beyond the usual familial machinations.”
“Ah,” Richard nodded, comprehension immediate. “I take it yesterday’s dinner at Matlock House did not go as our relations hoped? Mother spoke of nothing but Lady Eleanor’s visit.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “So, you knew what awaited me and did not warm me? Some friend. It went precisely as they hoped,” Darcy replied, his voice cool. “Lady Eleanor was seated beside me, her accomplishments were extolled at length, and I was left with no illusions as to what is expected of me.”
Richard chuckled. “Lady Eleanor is considered quite a catch. Half the eligible men in London would trade places with you.”
“Then perhaps one of them should marry her instead,” Darcy said.
Richard tipped his hat to the ladies, who giggled and blushed at the attention. Darcy maintained his reserve, nodding politely but without encouragement.
“Father spoke to me this morning,” Richard said as they turned onto a quieter path. “He expressed concern that you might be… resistant to the match.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Did he send you to persuade me?”
“Good heavens, no. You know me better than that, Darcy. I am merely relaying information.” Richard paused. “As I should have done when I first heard of their plan. I’ll admit it. I must tell you, he seems particularly invested in this venture.”
“And why should he be? Lady Eleanor is not his daughter. Her future is no concern of his. What’s more, I am not his son. You are.”
Richard sighed. “Lady Eleanor has made it known that she is rather fond of you, Darcy. And Father believes you owe him a certain… consideration in this matter.”
“Consideration? For what, pray?”
“For his intervention with Lady Catherine regarding Anne’s marriage.”
Darcy halted abruptly. “What intervention?”
“Surely you must have wondered how our aunt came to accept Anne’s marriage to Fitzroy,” Richard said. “She had spent years declaring Anne destined for you, only to suddenly give her blessing to an entirely different match.”
“I assumed she finally recognised the impropriety of cousin marrying cousin,” Darcy replied, though he knew better. Lady Catherine was not one to abandon a cherished scheme without significant provocation.
Richard shook his head. “Lady Catherine would never have yielded on her own. Father spent months persuading her that the connection to Fitzroy’s family offered advantages your marriage to Anne could not.
He convinced her that allowing Anne to marry elsewhere freed you to make an even more advantageous match. ”
“With Lady Eleanor,” Darcy concluded.
“Precisely. Lord Morton and Father have been in discussion for some time. The match would unite two ancient families and consolidate lands in Derbyshire that have been divided for generations.”
Darcy felt a surge of indignation. “So, my future was bartered without my knowledge or consent.”
“Not bartered,” Richard corrected. “Negotiated. With your best interests at heart, he assured me.”
“My best interests,” Darcy echoed. “How fortunate I am to have such attentive relatives.”
They resumed walking, though Darcy measured his stride now, wrestling with this unwelcome revelation. That his uncle should feel entitled to arrange his marriage as if he were a chess piece to be moved about the board at will—it was unconscionable.
“Lady Eleanor is beautiful,” Richard offered after a moment. “Accomplished, well-bred, and in possession of a substantial dowry. Many would consider her the perfect wife.”
“Then why do you not court her?” Darcy challenged. “You are a second son with modest prospects. Such a match would secure your future admirably.”
Richard laughed. “Because, dear Cousin, I am not the master of Pemberley. Lady Eleanor’s father would hardly consider a mere soldier. And as I said, Lady Eleanor has set her cap on you.”
Darcy frowned. “So, it is Pemberley she set her cap on, not its master. Or at least her father has.”
“Is that not often the way of these things?” Richard asked. “You know as well as I that marriages in our circle are arranged for advantage rather than affection.”
“My parents’ marriage was not so,” Darcy said quietly.
“Perhaps not initially,” Richard conceded. “Though even they came to understand the advantages of their union.”
They walked on in silence. Darcy felt the weight of his name and position pressing upon him, as it so often did.
Since his father’s death, he had carried the burden of Pemberley, the Darcy legacy, and the care of Georgiana alone.
But to have his personal happiness sacrificed on the altar of familial ambition—that, he could not abide.
“I do not intend to marry if I can help it, unless it is for love. And if my family will not let me have that, then I shall not marry at all.”
“What of Pemberley’s future?” Richard asked.
“If I do not have an heir?” he shrugged. “It is not entailed, Georgiana can inherit.”
“Though society would frown upon a woman inheriting such an estate.”
“Society frowns upon many things that are perfectly sensible,” Darcy replied. “And Georgiana would make a fine mistress of Pemberley one day, with the right husband to support her.”
“Is an arranged marriage truly such a burden that you cannot give it a chance?” Richard asked. “Might you not find happiness with Lady Eleanor, given time?”
“Happiness requires more than beauty and accomplishment,” Darcy replied. “It requires understanding. Companionship. A meeting of minds.”
“Ah,” Richard nodded. “You seek a woman with whom you might converse as well as dance.”
“Is that so unreasonable?”
“Not at all. But perhaps Lady Eleanor possesses more depth than you credit her with. Have you truly attempted to discover her character?”
Darcy sighed. “I have observed her in various settings over several months. She appears the very model of what society demands in a young lady—impeccably mannered, expertly trained in water colouring and similar pursuits, and utterly devoid of any original thought or genuine feeling.”
Richard could not suppress a bark of laughter. “You do not mince words, Darcy.”
“I see no purpose in it,” Darcy replied. “Not with you, at least.”
They had reached Piccadilly now, where their paths would diverge—Richard towards his father’s home, Darcy towards Grosvenor Square, home of Darcy House.
“What will you do?” Richard asked.
“I have promised Bingley I will accompany him to Hertfordshire,” Darcy said. “He has leased an estate there and requires assistance in assessing its management. That will take up some of my time.”
“And after?”
Darcy hesitated. “I shall return to Pemberley. Georgiana is leaving for Derbyshire next week as it is.”
“You know well I thought of Lady Eleanor.”
“Richard, I hope, in time she will find a gentleman whose admiration matches her father’s aspirations.”
Richard studied him with shrewd eyes. “You truly mean to refuse the match.”
“I do,” Darcy confirmed. “I cannot base my future—and Pemberley’s—on such a foundation.”
“Father will be displeased,” Richard warned. “As will Lady Catherine.”
“Their displeasure is not my primary concern.”
Richard clapped him on the shoulder. “Well said. Though I advise you to prepare for a formidable resistance. Neither of them surrenders easily.”
“I am well aware,” Darcy replied dryly.
They parted ways at the corner, Richard heading towards the Horse Guards while Darcy continued along Piccadilly.
To discover that his future had been negotiated without his knowledge—that his uncle felt entitled to dictate his choice of bride in return for managing Lady Catherine—stirred a quiet fury within him.
He would not follow the example of those who came before him and wed for the sake of it. It wasn’t who he wanted to be. Taking a breath, he diverted from his set route and instead made his way into St James Park.
He found a secluded bench near the small pond and sat. He did not wish to return home just now, where he was too easily ambushed by his scheming relations. Instead, he focused on the water.
He wished he had already met a woman whom he might lose his heart to, and who might be his equal in every way.
Then he might have married already and escaped all of this.
But at his age, he knew his family would not rest until either he was chained to another of their choosing, or their family connections suffered through his refusal.
He rose from the bench, his decision made.
He would need to speak to his uncle but not right away.
Instead, he would honour his commitment to Bingley, accompany him to Hertfordshire, and use the time away from London to compose a firm but respectful letter to his uncle declining the proposed match with Lady Eleanor.
The decision might bring conflict, but it also brought clarity. And in that clarity, Darcy found an unexpected measure of peace.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4 (Reading here)
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
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- Page 17
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- Page 20
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- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
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- Page 34
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- Page 37