Page 55 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Georgiana set aside her book. “Fitzwilliam, it is certain we will go to Meryton tomorrow?”
“I have received no note from Gracechurch Street indicating otherwise.” Darcy glanced at the mantel clock for a third time in the past hour, willing away his own impatience. Never had a Sunday afternoon at Darcy House been so interminable. “I am certain Catherine’s cough has improved.”
“Perhaps I-we should send a note enquiring as to her health, and that of the children? Do you think Elizabeth is well?”
Was she well? He had no idea. She was angry with him, and disappointed by him.
He had hesitated to again disturb Elizabeth, but the lack of news was somewhat worrisome.
He had sent his note hours ago and it was half past three o’clock.
Courtesy demanded some further communication.
He looked at Georgiana, and finding a fretful expression on her face, he determined he would assure her. Then the doors opened.
“Lady Matlock?”
Darcy stood as his aunt walked into the room. Although her determined gait was muffled when she stepped onto the carpet, it was clear she had come with some decided purpose rather than a social call. She looked at her niece. “Georgiana, would you excuse us a moment?”
Darcy nodded gently at his sister, who made little effort to hide her distress before slipping out of the room. Disguising his own turbulent emotions, he turned to his aunt. “Is all well at Matlock House? My uncle is well?”
Lady Matlock looked at the chair Georgiana had just abandoned and moved to one closer to the window. Rather than sitting, she stood behind it, waiting for Darcy to come stand across from her before speaking. “My own house does well, Fitzwilliam. It is your house and its future that is in peril.”
“Peril?” There was no alarm in his voice now that he was assured his aunt had come only to berate him for his choice of a bride. “I am not aware of any ‘peril’ facing me.”
She gave Darcy a reproachful look. “Perhaps the peril has faded. You were to be gone from town at least a day ago for your wedding. Your presence here is a harbinger, I hope, that you have come to your senses and returned to the rationality and reason which have always guided you.”
“Your compliments on my reason are appreciated, Aunt, but those have never abandoned me.”
“But Miss Bennet has,” she said, in a voice affecting sympathy. “Did she realise, finally, that your sole interest was in whatever hidden riches she had? You will marry her based on speculation and chance?”
Darcy stared at his aunt in fury; he did not miss the cool expression of unconcern on her countenance. “I beg that you not impugn my honour, or Elizabeth’s worth to me. She is all that is good.”
“How clever you are to find riches and recognise that increasing your holdings while destroying your happiness and that of your family is nothing but folly.”
Folly ?
He knew something about folly. He had destroyed his happiness once to save his family.
When he was not yet twenty-three years of age and unprepared to wed, to commit himself and Pemberley to anyone, his family had given him their support.
Lord Matlock encouraged him to join the viscount in his own gambols at certain houses; Lady Matlock had been active in discouraging matchmaking and reminding him of his duties to family, to his sister, his young cousin, and his ailing one.
When Lady Catherine had bemoaned her daughter’s need for a husband, and Richard had been tied down in France, Lady Matlock had been the one to support him in his decision.
Little had he realised then that his uncle’s wife had been playing the long game, knowing the truth of Anne’s illness, seeing him safely prevented from seeking his happiness while waiting for her daughter to come of age, become his wife, and unite the family fortunes.
And now she stood before him, regal in her powdered hauteur, hectoring him as Lady Catherine had once done, claiming that the interests of family, of blood, of her daughter eclipsed his interests and his heart. He stepped away from her, giving her his back so she would not see his disgust.
She drew nearer to him, softening her voice as she rested her hand on the chair Georgiana had abandoned.
“Fitzwilliam, I have long thought you and I are of like mind on family. Your marriage to Anne was more than the act of a saviour, and was to both your benefit. Can you reject the same ideals when happiness can be found with Cecilia?”
Darcy inhaled deeply, steadying himself as he balled his hands into fists at his side. How dare his aunt come to his home to question him and attack Elizabeth—and to once more put forward her daughter to him! He grit his teeth.
“What say you, Nephew?”
“What is it you wish me to say? I have found my happiness. My choice is set. ”
“Your choice?”
He turned and watched as Lady Matlock’s grip on the chair tightened enough to make him fear for the fabric.
She gave him an angry, incredulous look he felt must match his own expression.
“You are resolved to do this, to marry a country nobody on the chance of gold? Is it not enough that you have taken Rosings from this family?”
“Rosings has been in my family since Catherine Fitzwilliam wed Lewis de Bourgh some thirty years ago. I have spent my life being educated on the histories and lineage of the Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and de Bourgh families. Please do not compel further comment on the longevity and significance of family connexions.”
Darcy watched as the implication of his words sank in.
“As to my future alliances, I will tell you only that I am resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”
A flash of anger crossed Lady Matlock’s perfectly composed expression.
Darcy’s words hung in the air as she walked to a chair and arranged herself in its seat.
Finally situated, she looked up at her nephew, taking little heed of his growing ire.
“I have your interests at heart, Nephew, and the interests of my husband, who desires to see his daughter well-situated.”
Only his innate sense of decorum and manners as a gentleman compelled Darcy to maintain the barest of civilities with his aunt.
Crossing his arms, he leaned against the mantel and smiled tightly.
“You have indeed noted my interests, and taken my private business as yours. You speak to Elizabeth of ‘hidden riches’ and to me of ‘the chance of gold’? I wonder which is of greater value, unearthed gold or faith and trust in one’s relations? ”
“Is it a secret to anyone but Miss Bennet? Richard is quite?— ”
“Richard said nothing to you of it. I asked him, and I trust his word.”
Lady Matlock’s eyebrows rose. “A good cousin, and a worthy brother to you.”
Darcy nearly laughed at the continued condescension on display. “Aunt, you care much for Cecilia’s felicity and situation. She believes death has surrounded me as a husband and prefers to look elsewhere for hers.”
He ignored her startled expression and continued. “I am relieved we are of like mind on family, for I know I can trust you will rein in rumours and speculation about my late wife and her mother.”
In case his declaration did not end this charade of familial concern, Darcy walked to the drawing room door.
He flung it open, startling the younger woman who stood there.
“Cecilia,” he said quietly in an awkward greeting.
His cousin, wide-eyed, nodded before turning and walking quickly towards the main entryway.
Darcy beckoned a footman over and turned to his aunt. “You will excuse me now, Lady Matlock. I must call on my future wife...in Cheapside. Joseph will see you to your carriage.”
Cecilia Fitzwilliam was descending the steps of Darcy House when the Gardiners’ carriage drew up to the kerb.
Elizabeth descended and walked over to the girl, standing beside her family’s chaise and staring uncertainly at her.
Though nearly the same in years, Elizabeth thought she looked as young as Georgiana, and not a little lost.
“Hello, Miss Fitzwilliam.”
“Miss Bennet.” She paused and inspected her gloves. “I did not realise you were still in town. I thought you had returned to your home.”
“I have,” Elizabeth replied. “Darcy House will be my home. ”
The girl looked up quickly. “You will marry Darcy?”
“I shall.”
The happy surprise that lit up Cecilia’s face startled Elizabeth; an expression of such emotion was unexpected, as was the girl’s youthful beauty. “I congratulate you. However, my mother has not put aside her dreams of pushing me on Darcy. She is inside now, arguing her point.”
Alarm rose but did not overwhelm Elizabeth’s curiosity. “You are not with her, supporting her argument?”
“I do not wish to marry my cousin. I wanted Mama to be happy, but should not he be, as well? I have seen, and just now heard, what Georgiana has stated—Darcy’s heart belongs to you.
” She smiled impishly. “I shall see you in the future. My mother may not approve of your marriage, but the earl is the head of our household.”
Miss Fitzwilliam signalled her driver to help her into the carriage. “Miss Bennet, would you please tell my mother that she has a most impatient daughter sitting alone in a carriage? I am not known for tolerating the cold.” She concluded her pronouncement with a smirk and a dramatic shiver.
Lighter in heart, but still distressed over the pain she had caused Darcy, Elizabeth stepped to the doors of Darcy House.
Two steps inside, and she was greeted by the sound of raised voices.
Hudson’s stoic expression turned apologetic as he asked whether she would mind waiting in the sitting room while he announced her arrival to the man she needed to see.