Page 53 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Much as Darcy enjoyed the conversation with the Gardiners, Georgiana’s duet with Elizabeth, and touring Darcy House with his future wife, he was not a stupid man.

He had seen the confusion in her eyes when she found the coin, and the questions on her lips when Richard interrupted them during their last moments alone.

His cousin’s arrival had changed the tone in the room.

After their earlier rancour, Richard was in a jovial mood, surrounded by ‘three lovely ladies’, and his cheerful demeanour and sly jokes at Darcy’s expense had led to the most lively evening in years at Darcy House.

Georgiana had played, and Elizabeth had sung—had he ever heard such beautiful expression in a voice?

His face nearly ached from smiling. It was not until Elizabeth and her sister began to show signs of exhaustion that the evening came to an end.

To prolong it, and determined to see to their safe return, Darcy rode with them in the carriage to Gracechurch Street.

With Catherine nearly asleep on Elizabeth’s shoulder, he had no opportunity to fully express to her his satisfaction with the evening, at least not in the way he would have preferred.

Instead, he observed her from across the carriage, ensuring the ladies were warmed by a lap blanket and watching as Elizabeth’s eyelids drooped and she too seemed to doze off under the rhythmic cadence of the carriage wheels.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered as the carriage drew close to her uncle’s home.

He reached his fingers to the gloved hand atop the blanket.

She opened her eyes slowly and gave him a drowsy smile.

He lay in bed for hours later, remembering the feel of her warm, sleep-relaxed form against his as he escorted her up the steps, and the soft skin of the wrist he kissed.

There was much to divert him, and it was not until he woke that Darcy recalled their conversation about Copperdale.

He had not thought it important to tell her of the slim possibility that a fortune could be buried there.

He preferred it appear as a stroke of good fortune after the fact, or more likely, a fool’s errand of digging a few extra exploratory holes while tilling the fields and digging out the waterhead.

Whether or not anything of value would be found mattered little; a scattered hoard of gold coin was an exciting thought, and something to be discovered over time, if ever.

It was a conversation to be had before they married; that much was clear. Understanding he owed Elizabeth an explanation only added to his alarm when a note arrived from Cheapside early the following morning.

Darcy,

The cold that afflicted my cousins’ nursemaid has struck Kitty and the children. I am certain it will be of short duration, but she is fatigued and in need of rest today. May I ask that we put off our return to Meryton for a day?

A note was on its way to the Gardiners within minutes, and he was not far behind. When he entered the sitting room, Elizabeth gave him a tired smile .

“We arrived home to sickly children, and in the middle of the night, Kitty began to feel feverish.”

“Are you well?” Darcy moved quickly to sit beside her on the sofa. He took her hand, and was pleased that it was cool and dry; the softness of her skin was distracting.

“I am, although rather tired. My aunt was up with the babe, and I sat with Alice and Rose, who were coughing much of the night. Kitty has always been the most susceptible of us to colds and coughs, but I am rather?—”

“Indomitable,” he teased, leaning his head towards her.

“Stubborn. My will is too strong to be sickly.”

He smiled, heartened by her good humour. “I shall send word to Longbourn that we will arrive Monday. We cannot travel on the Sabbath,” he reminded her.

“Thank you. Will the delay affect your business in Hertfordshire?”

“My business? My only business there is our wedding.” Darcy sensed some formality in her tone but he could not discern whether it was due to fatigue or lingering unease with the previous evening’s conversation. Her three days in London had been quite busy.

“What of your other business? At Copperdale?”

Startled, he quickly saw that her light tone did not match her intent expression. Her voice grew more serious as she continued.

“I had a letter from Jane. She and Mr Bingley drove out to see the farm. She was surprised to find workers there, digging with shovels.”

“Ah, I hired men to go and address the blocked water flow.”

She looked away to gaze out the window. His attention followed.

His carriage was parked there, its size filling much of the street view.

They watched as two men strolled by, talking excitedly as their hands waved and gestured.

A gust of wind suddenly toppled the hat on one and they hurried away to retrieve it.

Assuming Elizabeth would be amused, he chuckled softly.

Instead, she shifted beside him, turning to look at him more fully.

“Is that all it is? Water? Nothing to do with Matthew’s coin?”

Darcy rose, surprised by the turn of conversation, and moved closer to the fireplace. “It is a peculiar matter.”

Her reply came quickly. “Peculiar? You have researched the land and its value. You are reading on Roman encampments. You have the coin you tell me is Roman, which came from the boy who lived on that land. What is there at Copperdale?”

He shrugged and crossed his arms. “Likely there is nothing. This coin, however, could be part of a hoard of gold coins or silver goods, such as spoons or bowls, as have been found elsewhere in the country.”

Her eyes widened. “That could be worth hundreds of pounds!”

He nodded. “Thousands.”

Every vestige of colour drained from her face. “Thousands? You have known all of this for some time? You knew of the value of the land, and what lay beneath it when you agreed to buy it and to marry me?”

“I knew some of it, of course, and suspected more.” He shrugged. “But these are separate concepts. One does not lend itself to the other.”

Elizabeth rose from the sofa and walked swiftly across the room to close the door. She paused, her back to him; Darcy watched the rise and fall of her shoulders. He sensed things were about to go wildly wrong but before he could act, she turned. Her eyes flashed in bewilderment.

“Do they not? Were my father and Longbourn not a project, like Mr Bingley and Netherfield? A way to occupy your time and your mind? Is purchasing Copperdale another project as well? One that could greatly enrich you?

“Did you know of this possibility before or after agreeing to my father’s wish? ”

“Before.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to dismay. Darcy walked to her, placing his hand on her arm. “Please, Elizabeth, you are mistaken if you think I agreed to marry you because of the promise of the gold.”

She pulled away, glaring fiercely at him. “Then why have you said nothing of it to me? We went there, to Copperdale, to look at the house. You knew then of this possible treasure.”

Injured by her reaction, Darcy spoke quickly, hoping to soothe her feelings. “I did, but it does not matter whether or not there is anything under the ground. Of course, it would enrich your family if there was?—”

“But you said nothing to me of it,” cried Elizabeth. “Did you lack trust in me, or did you fear it would shake my trust in you?”

Darcy’s attempts to encourage patience shifted to earnestness. “It did not matter to me whether there is anything there at all.”

“And if it did to me ? You arranged things as is your wont, saying nothing to me, whilst even your aunt had an idea of my ‘secret fortune’.”

Her exhaustion seemed to overtake her anger, and Elizabeth sank down into a chair.

Her face—made pale by the contrast with her black mourning gown—was wan with fatigue but her eyes were dark and shining with indignation.

Darcy ran a hand through his hair, cursing his aunt under his breath, and came to stand before her.

“I said nothing to anyone but Hurst, who first recognised the coin, and to my solicitor and your father. I did not want speculators and thieves prowling the land, tearing it up under dark of night to search for buried treasure.” He expelled a deep breath.

“My cousin saw some papers on my desk and told his father, who undoubtedly told Lady Matlock. None heard of this from me. Whether or not there is gold at Copperdale has never been my greatest concern. ”

Darcy sensed rather than saw that Elizabeth was somewhat placated and sat down gingerly across from her. He was gratified when she looked at him but he could not read her expression.

He began again. “Elizabeth, would you have agreed to marry me had you known that your family’s situation might be improved, nay enriched, by some fabled gold hoard on property you had not known about? One which your cousin could have laid claim to as soon as he chose a wife from among you?

“Would you have chanced that rather than agree to what your father requested of us ?”

Darcy waited in wretched suspense; the emotions he had felt since entering the house had swung from worry to fear to anger, and now they shifted, finally, to despair when Elizabeth remained silent.

“I cannot say.”

Even had she not been awake much of the night, calming the girls as they coughed, Elizabeth would have slept poorly.

The past two days had been so fevered with activity, she had not had a moment to simply sit and consider all that was occurring and how she—and others—felt about those changes.

Her mother was rapturous over her daughter’s good fortune and how it would benefit the Bennet family, but Lady Matlock, Darcy’s nearest female relation, more than disliked the idea of anyone but her daughter marrying him.

The daughter of an impoverished country gentleman, with no dowry but four sisters and a widowed mother, was—on the face of it—a rather horrifying prospect.

But it was one he had persisted at, one which Darcy had agreed to, with very little resistance.

Elizabeth had read the settlement papers.

She was marrying a wealthy man. He wished to marry her.

She was not prone to self-doubt but she was neither foolish nor headstrong enough to believe herself a ‘fine catch’.

Darcy was an honourable man, but honouring a promise to a gentleman he had known for a month, a promise that tied him to a woman lacking a dowry, connexions, and social standing?

Yes, she did wonder why he was so determined to go through with it and marry her.

She had not made it easy for him; she had grown to love him—far more quickly than she had imagined possible—but she still had no real idea of his feelings for her .

Why did he have Matthew’s coin and why had he done so much research into its worth and Copperdale’s promise without a word to her?

Was the promise of treasure what finally made her ‘tolerable’?

She sighed and looked up at Darcy.

“I did not believe Mr Wickham when he spoke of your avarice in making your marriage to your cousin.” She was nearly frightened of the angry shock in his expression.

“I know you are a good man. Yet you neglect to share with me vital information about my family, about yourself, and about your true reasons for marrying me. A promise to my father hardly seems enough.”

“You believe only your fine eyes and a buried pot of gold truly compels my heart?”

His eyes bore into her in anger and hurt.

She closed hers; the full force of their argument, its stupidity and destructiveness, had her feeling defeated.

When she heard movement, she opened her eyes and watched as Darcy moved away from her to stride to the window, his head bowed.

His back to her, he did not feel her eyes or see the pained expression on her face.

Elizabeth watched as his attention focused on a child’s handprint on the windowpane; he lifted his hand and his thumb began rubbing at it.

She nearly laughed, watching him once again putting effort towards cleaning up a mess made by her family.

Beyond the door, she could hear wailing; the babe was crying and now John was awake as well.

Abruptly Darcy stopped his motions and turned .

“I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern. Please send a note informing me of your sister’s health or of any needs you have.”

Darcy walked past her, retrieved his hat, and disappeared through the doors.