Page 8 of The Shades of Pemberley

THAT WILLIAM WOULD return when he had visited earlier in the day was a surprise, but the grave expression he sported told Elizabeth there was something amiss.

Curious rather than worried—Elizabeth was secure in his love and could imagine nothing causing him to withhold it—she invited him to sit on the sofa next to her.

“What is it, William? Has something happened?”

“Mrs. Bennet,” said William, “will you call your husband? I believe he should hear what I must say.”

Though Elizabeth had no fears regarding William’s devotion to her, Mrs. Bennet had ever been of a flighty disposition, prone to worry, certain something would prevent the union for which she had wished since William had begun paying attention to her.

Fortunately, William was well aware of her mother’s character and knew the signs of an impending explosion; he smiled at her, intending to put her at ease.

“It is nothing to cause concern, Mrs. Bennet. Something of a serious nature has happened, but it is nothing that will cause irreparable harm.”

Mollified, Mrs. Bennet rang for the housekeeper and instructed the matronly woman to summon her husband from his study. As the master’s chamber was just across the hall from the sitting-room, Mr. Bennet arrived quickly, his face lighting up when he caught sight of William.

“Darcy! It seems you cannot get enough of my daughter, man! Were you not here just this morning?”

Whereas Mr. Darcy’s relationship with his father had always been difficult, Elizabeth knew he had always looked on Mr. Bennet as a sort of surrogate father, one far dearer to him than his father had ever been.

It had been Mr. Bennet who had stepped in and assisted a young Mr. Darcy become accustomed to managing his estate when his father had passed, he who had been the man Mr. Darcy had looked up to and esteemed.

Mrs. Darcy was aware of her son’s respect for Elizabeth’s father, and while she thought Mr. Bennet was far too sardonic and prone to complacency regarding his daughters and his estate, she had never begrudged her son the mentor figure in his life.

“I shall not say you are incorrect about the effect your daughter has on me,” replied Mr. Darcy, sharing a grin with the older man. “However, something particular has brought us back today.”

“Very well, my soon-to-be son-in-law,” said Mr. Bennet. “Out with it. What do you need to tell us?”

Mr. Darcy wasted little time and no effort to embellish what was, after all, a simple account of the letter waiting for his return to Netherfield and what it contained. Thus, the explanation took him only a moment to relate. Elizabeth understood the implications at once.

“Then you have inherited the Darcy estate in the north,” surmised Elizabeth when he fell silent.

“I have, Elizabeth,” said William, looking at her with appreciation. “I should have known you would know what that meant.”

“We have spoken of it, though not at length,” replied Elizabeth. “That you were in line to inherit the greater estate, I have always understood, though I have never thought you would.”

“In that, Elizabeth, we are a pair.” William paused, considering.

“As you know, I was not well acquainted with him, but I recall hearing something of an engagement to a cousin. I do not know Lady Catherine de Bourgh at all, but from what I understand, she is infamous as a lady accustomed to having her way. When this marriage between my cousin and her daughter was to occur, I cannot say, but I have heard there was an understanding.”

“Then I must pity Miss de Bourgh for losing her future husband,” replied Elizabeth.

Given the circumstances, Elizabeth was certain there was something her fiancé had not yet stated, and she thought she knew what it was.

“You must go to the north,” said Elizabeth.

There was a general intake of breath, at least from those of Elizabeth’s family, barring Mr. Bennet, who appeared to have suspected as much. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes were round, her face filled with utter horror, while the rest of Elizabeth’s family appeared taken aback.

“Yes, Elizabeth, that is correct,” replied William. “I have arranged to leave tomorrow for Pemberley. Though I loathe the necessity, I am afraid we must delay our wedding.”

“Delay the wedding?” echoed Mrs. Bennet, though in truth it was near a screech.

“I apologize, Mrs. Bennet,” said William with genuine regret. “Little inclined though I am to wait to grasp my happiness, there is nothing else to be done.”

“But—” tried Mrs. Bennet.

“Margaret, this is necessary,” said Mr. Bennet.

“A man has just died, and Darcy is his heir. The timing is unfortunate, but this is estate business and, given the situation, must take precedence over all other concerns. When Darcy returns, likely in a few months, Elizabeth will be waiting here for him, impatiently, if I know anything of my daughter.”

Mr. Bennet smiled at Elizabeth, who returned it, albeit ruefully. Then he turned to his wife and squeezed her hand, imparting to her that all would be well.

“The wedding must be delayed, not canceled. When we know the date of Darcy’s return, we can set the new date for the wedding. Trust me—when that happens, you will not be the only one eager to see them married as soon as may be.”

“Well, then I suppose it must be so,” muttered Mrs. Bennet. She turned a severe glare upon William. “You will inform us, and return at the first available opportunity, will you not?”

“Of course, I shall, Mrs. Bennet.”

A thought came to Darcy, and he looked at his mother.

“It occurs to me it might be advisable for Elizabeth to view her new home before the wedding. Perhaps after I have time to settle into Pemberley, Elizabeth could come to the north? We have already spoken of the possibility of my mother visiting; if you wish it, I should be happy to welcome you as well.”

Mrs. Bennet considered that for a long moment. “I seem to remember you speaking of this estate of your cousin’s. It is a grand estate, is it not?”

“I have never visited, myself,” confessed William. “From what my father told me, however, there are few properties to compare with Pemberley.”

A slow nod was Mrs. Bennet’s response. “Yes, I can see that Elizabeth would wish to see her new home, and I should be happy if your mother would escort her. It may be better if I were to stay here and see to the altered wedding preparations; one of the girls may go in my stead. There will be plenty of time to visit once you are married.”

“Excellent!” said Mr. Bennet. “Then we shall call it settled. Now, since you are to depart on the morrow, and so must Mr. Bingley, I suppose, I believe Margaret will join me in hoping you will stay for dinner.”

“Oh, yes, of course, you must!” seconded Mrs. Bennet. “We have no notion of how long it will be before we shall have your company again.”

“I believe, Margaret,” said Mrs. Darcy, “we shall be happy to stay.”

Mrs. Bennet eyed Mr. Bingley, regretting his necessary departure, clear in the unhappy look she fixed on him, though tempered with the satisfaction of his continued interest in Jane.

Announcing she must speak to the housekeeper, Mrs. Bennet left the room, and Elizabeth turned her attention back to her fiancé, for fiancé he must remain a little longer.

“What a fortunate escape for you, William,” said Elizabeth a little pertly. “I trust you will enjoy this extra bit of freedom fate has granted you.”

“I would just as soon marry you tonight and spirit you to the north tomorrow.”

Elizabeth eyed him, tempted to insist he back up his tease with action. Sanity reasserted itself, and she shook her head.

“Though I would not be opposed, I suspect my mother would object. She has planned our wedding breakfast to the tiniest detail, you know; would you ruin all her hard work and rob her of the chance to display her first married daughter before all our neighbors?”

“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of your mother’s, Elizabeth,” replied William. “Yet, I must own that I consider it to be a bother, for the important point to me is that I shall have you for a wife. Nothing else signifies.”

“I cannot but agree. As you suggested, the timing is ill, but there is little choice.” Elizabeth regarded him for several moments. “What do you suppose you will find in Derbyshire?”

“Nothing good for the moment,” said Darcy, shaking his head. “I must take the management of the estate, of course, but I must also consider my younger cousin, and she has just lost her brother.”

“The poor dear,” said Elizabeth, her heart going out in sympathy for the unknown girl. “What can you tell me about her?”

What William knew was not much, but Elizabeth listened intently, and while she did so, she planned what she might do to ease the girl’s suffering.

It was all perhaps more than a little hubris, for Elizabeth had no notion what would become of the girl, whether she would remove to her relations, or some other establishment be formed for her.

Should the proposed visit to Pemberley occur, Elizabeth wished to do everything in her power to improve the girl’s spirits and help her overcome her loss.

“Tell me, William,” said Elizabeth after they had spoken of Miss Darcy for a time, “do you anticipate joining the highest circles society offers?”

“I believe, my dear Elizabeth, that you know enough of me to understand that such a notion is not welcome to me. Family duty, however, comes before personal desires.”

“That it does,” agreed Elizabeth, still feeling a hint of uncertainty in her heart. “I know you will execute your duties sufficient to make your ancestors proud of you.”

“Well, perhaps not proud.” William winked. “Shall we instead settle on satisfied? I doubt I will ever have as much taste for society as my more illustrious cousins possessed.”

After a momentary pause, William shook his head and offered a rueful smile.

“Then again, as I recall, Jameson Darcy never had much affinity for society either. Those few times I encountered him in London, I rarely recall him at ease, and the rumors suggest he was not a warm man, one rather austere and unapproachable.”

“It must be a family trait,” replied Elizabeth, laughing, “for much the same is said of you.”

“Only by those with whom I do not wish to associate.” William looked around the room, and with an exaggerated attempt at secrecy, he leaned in close and said: “Such as Bingley’s sister.”

Straightening, he grinned and added: “With those I can tolerate, I dare say that I am the very soul of congeniality.”

“Perhaps not the very soul,” replied Elizabeth. “I will own that your amiable nature is enough for me , but I inhabit a sphere close enough to know you better than most. For others who are not so close, I cannot speak.”

“What is it, Elizabeth?” asked William, peering at her. “Is something amiss?”

Elizabeth sighed and smiled at how well he knew her. Gathering her thoughts, she faced with courage the doubts that had plagued her since she had learned of William’s new inheritance.

“This business of the first circles concerns me, William. I have always been more than content with your position in society, and I know you never wished for anything more. Now that you are to rise—precipitously, I might add—I wonder how we shall manage.”

William fixed her with a grin of delight, not at all in keeping with her confession. “Well, this is a fine to do, Elizabeth. I never thought I would see the day when you would confess to such uncertainty. When I inform Mother, she will be most amused.”

“William!” said Elizabeth, swatting at his hand. “I am serious. And you should know me better than to suppose I will wilt before the high and mighty of society.”

“Yes, I know it very well,” replied William. “I believe, my dear, that we shall face all naysayers together. You should remember that I will join a set with which I have little experience, the same as you will; thus, we will face the same trials together.

“Some might say that I should look in the circles I am to inhabit for a future wife to assist me to become accustomed to it, among other reasons for which I have no interest. If anyone makes such a ridiculous suggestion to me, I will ensure they understand my sentiments. I have never wished for anyone other than you for a wife. Together, we will do well, despite what others may think.”

Elizabeth sighed and leaned closer to him, a little closer than was proper, she thought.

Propriety, however, was not high on her list of concerns at that moment—she wished for the comfort of the man who had been her love since the moment she knew she wished for love in a marriage.

The family knew them well, knew their affection, and would say nothing of a minor breach of propriety.

“We shall,” said Elizabeth, reveling in their closeness. “I hope you will forgive me if I wish you a speedy return. This delay will seem like an eternity.”

“As it will to me. Do not forget that I mean you to join me at Pemberley, at least for a few days.”

Elizabeth straightened and nodded. “I will be happy to join you there, William.”

That settled, they enjoyed each other’s company until they must part, which William did with the greatest reluctance.

Elizabeth had not been speaking in hyperbole—she expected the days and weeks of their separation would pass with agonizing sluggishness.

Her happiness waited at the end, so she was prepared to endure it.