Page 4 of The Shades of Pemberley

“Come, Elizabeth, let me reassure you,” said he, grasping her hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm, and continuing to walk. “This uncertainty is most amusing—when I tell my mother, she will appreciate the humor, though I do not doubt she will have a few choice words for you.”

“No, William!” exclaimed Elizabeth. Then she shyly added: “There is no need to tell your mother, for I do not doubt the truth of your words.”

Darcy chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Good, for Mother adores you. Do you know it was my mother who first pointed out to me what a lovely young woman you were becoming?”

Elizabeth looked at him with astonishment. “When was this?”

“When you were perhaps thirteen,” replied Darcy.

At Elizabeth’s growing shock, he laughed.

“No, Elizabeth, she did not put you forward as a potential match then for obvious reasons, to say nothing of what my father might have said. Mother’s comment was nothing more than an observation that you were a cherubic girl, had grown into a pretty young woman, and would be a beauty when you achieved maturity, while she praised your character and liveliness.

I shall add that her prediction has proven correct in every particular. ”

“Flatterer,” said Elizabeth, though not displeased. “When next I see your mother, I shall thank her for her kind words.”

“If you do,” laughed Darcy, “we may need to explain how the subject arose. Are you certain you wish to do that?”

“Perhaps it is better to refrain,” said Elizabeth through pursed lips, much to Darcy’s amusement.

“To own the truth,” said he, “I am all bemusement that you doubted my mother’s esteem. Did her character not inform you that she did not hold the same opinions as my father?”

“I did not doubt her, as such,” said Elizabeth, pressing closer to him as they walked. “I know your mother well and have good relations with her. But a little confirmation can never go amiss.”

“No, I suppose it does not,” chuckled Darcy. “Do not allow any hint of doubt to stain your mind, Elizabeth. Mother loves you as she would if she had a daughter of her own. I have heard her comment many times on the similarity of your characters.”

“That is excellent news, William. Now, tell me more of Mrs. Bingley.”

Darcy laughed, enjoying this woman’s company, his beloved who would soon be a part of his life forever. “Shall I order him to submit to you for inspection?”

“Do not be silly, William!” said she with a playful swat at him. “We have spoken of your friend often enough that I think I comprehend him well, and his performance the times we have seen him has not disappointed. Yet, now that his admiration for Jane is obvious, I would know more of him.”

“Of course, you do,” said Darcy, “knowing your protective nature toward your sister. Bingley, my love, is everything he portrays himself to be and not a jot more or less. I know of no one so open as Bingley, for he is exactly as he seems.”

“My question might be premature,” said Elizabeth, “but are there impediments to any pursuit of Jane he might contemplate?”

“Are you turning into your mother?”

As expected, Elizabeth fixed him with a fierce scowl, entirely feigned, though when she spoke, it was with more than a hint of primness.

“I will have you know, Mrs. Darcy , that is not a near likeness of my mother at all. The presence of a certain gentleman who has long made his intentions known rendered her content, knowing that her future is secure.”

Then Elizabeth grinned and added: “That is fortunate, indeed, for I recall my mother’s character before the gentleman presented himself as a potential suitor. If she still worried for her future, with Jane now two and twenty, I cannot imagine how she would behave.”

“Your mother is perfectly amiable, Elizabeth,” said Darcy. “Though perhaps she is a little zealous.”

Elizabeth glanced heavenward, amusing Darcy all over again.

Zealous was the least that one could say about Mrs. Bennet, especially concerning her daughters’ marriage prospects, which extended to the upcoming celebration of their nuptials.

Several pitched battles had already occurred between mother and daughter, for Elizabeth’s tastes were different from her mother’s.

It had taken all Darcy’s patience, Mrs. Bennet’s persuasion, and Mrs. Darcy’s diplomacy to settle these fraught encounters.

Fortunately, the planning was now complete, allowing them to enjoy their last weeks before the significant event without acrimony.

“Well, Mrs. Darcy?” prompted she. “I believe I asked a question that you did not deign to answer, instead choosing to insult my mother.”

“I shall always have the highest respect for your mother,” replied Darcy, “if for no other reason than because she birthed you.”

“That is a comfort, Mrs. Darcy,” said Elizabeth wryly, while continuing to regard him.

“Bingley, yes,” said Darcy. “Had you not distracted me, I think I would have told you all by now.”

Elizabeth was, Darcy had noted in the past, adept at teasing, though not so proficient at enduring the same from others. The baleful glare she fixed on him set him to laughing, and he hastened to the subject at hand.

“As I said, Bingley is an excellent sort, a man I defy anyone to dislike. He is the scion of a long line of tradesmen, industrious men who built the family business sufficient for Bingley to sell a portion of his share of the business to his uncles. He still owns some shares that bring him income, but his involvement now is only superficial. He derives the rest of his income from money he has deposited, intended for the purchase of an estate.”

“Then he is secure.”

Darcy nodded. “His wealth does not equal mine, for my family has saved since my grandfather took possession of Netherfield. Yet his income is similar and may even outstrip mine depending on the size of the estate he purchases.”

“Yet he will be new money, and his standing will not improve for several generations.”

“That is true,” said Darcy with a shrug, “though Bingley has little care for such things. He is an unpretentious fellow. If only his nearest relations were the same.”

Elizabeth looked on with interest. “Given such a background, I would not have suspected them of putting on such airs.”

“There is, in truth, only one,” replied Darcy, the memory of that woman less than welcome. “I have never made the acquaintance of any of his extended family. Bingley is master of his affairs, as his parents both passed, his father only two years ago. He has no brothers and two sisters.”

“Ah, then that explains it,” said Elizabeth. “They are not his equal and think well of themselves, I suppose.”

“The younger only,” replied Darcy. “The elder, Mrs. Louisa Hurst, is five and twenty, quieter and less forceful than her sister. Sometimes it is difficult to separate her from her sister, for they are the closest siblings. The younger, Miss Caroline Bingley, is a woman of ambition, her purpose to climb the heights with no care at all for temper, compatibility, or even anything more than a cursory attention to propriety. She can be mean, overbearing, and single-minded in pursuing her goals.”

“In short,” said Elizabeth, her voice brimming with hilarity, “she wishes to have you for a husband! I wonder that you never told me of this before, William. Did you suppose I would fly into a rage, call Miss Bingley out to eat grass in the morning?”

“The notion of you facing her across the dueling piste is rather amusing, Elizabeth,” said Darcy.

“Not at all,” replied Elizabeth. “The training you gave me in the foil gives me confidence that I could skewer her with little trouble.”

“That was but once, Elizabeth,” said Darcy, “and you only held it for a few moments.”

“I am a quick learner,” said she blandly.

Darcy shook his head, never more enamored with this fiery woman than he was at that moment. “I apologize, Elizabeth, but I cannot allow you to end Miss Bingley in a duel. Think of the inconvenience to her brother.”

“Then for Mrs. Bingley’s sake,” said Elizabeth after an exaggerated period of consideration, “I shall refrain. I shall have you with no ability for her to dispute soon anyway.”

“I am not Miss Bingley’s primary target,” replied Darcy.

“Rather, I believe she considers me akin to... insurance should she not succeed in her true ambition, which is to rise to the first circles.” Darcy considered Miss Bingley for a moment and laughed.

“As I recall, however, she found my cousin most agreeable.”

“Do you speak of your Darcy cousin from Derbyshire?” asked Elizabeth.

“I do,” replied he. “Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley is not, you understand, well known to me, though we have a passing acquaintance. I heard little about the incident, but I understand she all but threw herself at Jameson Darcy at an event they both attended during the last season. Unfortunately for her, Darcy is every bit the prominent society man and did not hesitate to rebuke her before the assembled. By Bingley’s account, his sister was ashamed for weeks after, though in time she began acting as if it never happened. ”

“Then let her maintain her pretense to high society,” said Elizabeth. “I am more than content with your standing and shall not give you up to such a woman.”

“I am relieved I do not possess I higher standing, my love. It has always seemed more of a bother than a privilege.”

They continued for some time thereafter in desultory conversation, the feelings they exchanged far more important than a few words.

Darcy was still amused by Elizabeth’s question regarding his mother, for she had no reason to doubt Mrs. Darcy’s regard for her.

Though as indomitable a woman as Darcy had ever met, she showed uncertainty at the oddest times, and in situations Darcy might not have expected.

Regarding her family, she was as firm and immovable as a mountain, and her confidence was such that she could speak of any subject, whether or not she had extensive knowledge of it.

She had a more vulnerable side, however, that she rarely showed to anyone other than Darcy himself.

It was something he cherished, for he would do anything to protect her.

“Well, William,” said she after some further time of this, “I must return home before long. If I do not, my family will worry about me.” She gave him an impish smile. “That or they will suspect our activities.”

“If they do not already know all,” retorted Darcy, “I will be disappointed in them.”

Elizabeth laughed and agreed it was so. Leave-taking consumed several more minutes, for murmured endearments, a few kisses, and their general reluctance to part from each other consumed further time in each other’s company.

In time, they accomplished it, as Elizabeth extricated herself from his arms and walked away, though she turned to regard him several times as she retreated.

Darcy watched her as she walked, admiring her form and wondering at his good fortune to have found her.

When she disappeared around a bend in the path, Darcy mounted his neglected horse and kicked it into motion, heading back to his home.

The wind in his face felt heavenly as he raced, vaulting from the beast when he reached his home some minutes later.

Then he entrusted the horse to the care of a stable hand and entered the house with a jaunty step, whistling as he walked.

He found his mother in the entrance hall of the estate.

“William,” said she, smiling at his obvious joy. “I would ask for an account of your ride, but I can guess what you have been about.”

With a grin, Darcy approached and kissed his mother’s cheek. “I would wonder about your blindness if you did not know. Elizabeth sends her greetings.”

“That is a fine woman you will marry, William,” said his mother. “I hope you understand how fortunate you have been to find her, and with no need to search!”

“Yes, mother, I do,” replied Darcy. “I thank God every day for my good fortune.”

“Good fortune seems to have found you, Darcy,” said Bingley, stepping into view from a side hall, “especially when you ride out in the morning, neglecting your longsuffering guest.”

“I apologize, Bingley,” said Darcy, unrepentant, “but your presence would be superfluous when meeting with my fiancée.”

Bingley laughed. “Yes, I suppose you are correct. Tell me, Darcy, do you know if Miss Bennet walks as much as her sister?”

Mrs. Darcy allowed her mirth release. “ No one can claim to walk as much as Lizzy Bennet, Mrs. Bingley, though I am sorry to disappoint you.”

“Not at all,” replied Bingley, unperturbed. “If I cannot meet her on the paths of her father’s estate, then I suppose I must go about this courting business in the usual fashion.”

Darcy regarded his friend with interest, reflecting on his conversation with Elizabeth. “You have decided on Miss Bennet already?”

“No, I have not,” replied Bingley. “But I am open to the possibility of needing her in my life as much as you need her sister. Only time and greater understanding of her character will tell me.”

“I suspect you will find an answer to your satisfaction, Mrs. Bingley,” said Darcy’s mother, her wide smile a testament to how agreeable she found him. “Jane Bennet is a lovely girl. A man could search the world for a better woman and not find anyone so angelic.”

“That is my opinion,” replied Bingley, his wide grin so much a part of his character. “Now, Darcy, perhaps we should stop wasting time. If you are amenable, I mean to visit Longbourn today. I cannot help but suppose you will accompany me.”

“If William does not enter past the lintel before you,” said Mrs. Darcy, “I have misjudged his devotion to Elizabeth.”

“I am at your disposal, Bingley,” said William. “Let us go as soon as it is proper to do so.”

“And I shall accompany you,” said Mrs. Darcy.

With their plans set, Darcy excused himself to return to his room and change.