Page 16 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy

Darcy

D arcy was on one of his habitual afternoon walks when he caught sight of Elizabeth, some distance ahead, on the woodland path that skirted the edge of Pemberley’s sprawling grounds. Her posture was thoughtful, her pace unhurried. Though the sight of her in such a serene setting might have brought contentment, he hesitated. Perhaps she wished for solitude.

Yet something about the slight slump of her shoulders suggested she might welcome company. Resolving to let her decide, Darcy quickened his steps until he was within polite range.

“Mrs Darcy,” he said softly, and Elizabeth started, spinning to face him.

“Oh!” she said, her voice tinged with both surprise and self-conscious amusement. “I did not hear you approach. Please, do not call me that—not while we’re alone.”

He inclined his head, smiling faintly. “Elizabeth, then. May I join you?”

She hesitated for a moment, searching his face, then said, “If you wish.”

They fell into step together, the path wide enough to accommodate a comfortable distance between them. The rustling of leaves overhead and the distant twitter of birdsong filled the pauses in their conversation. For a time, neither spoke, but it was not an uncomfortable silence—more a mutual weighing of how to begin.

At last, Darcy glanced at her. “You seem preoccupied. I hope this morning’s service was not too tiresome.”

Elizabeth sighed, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. “The service was bearable. It is everything surrounding it that weighs upon me.”

Darcy frowned, his steps faltering slightly. “What do you mean?”

She stopped and turned towards him. “My sisters. My father. Their future, uncertain as it is, preoccupies me constantly. When I consider what may happen if my father’s condition worsens…” She trailed off, pressing her lips tightly together.

Darcy’s jaw tightened, and his voice, when he spoke, was steady but intense. “You need not face this uncertainty alone, Elizabeth. I promised to help, and I intend to honour that promise.”

She appeared to study him for a long moment, then began walking again. “You do seem determined to prove yourself honourable,” she said, her tone teasing but tinged with earnestness.

“I must,” he replied. “If only to show you the truth of my character. I would never offer reassurances I did not mean.”

Elizabeth glanced sideways at him, a flicker of appreciation in her eyes. “I begin to see that your desire for precision is not as cold as I once believed.”

Darcy smiled faintly at the unexpected praise but sensed her hesitation. “You have doubts still.”

“Not doubts,” she said, frowning slightly. “Questions. Uncertainties that time may resolve, though I cannot say whether they will resolve in your favour.”

Her words stung, but Darcy accepted them. He was silent for a time, weighing his next words.

“And your sisters?” he asked gently. “Do you think they will adjust to their new surroundings?”

Elizabeth gave a soft sigh. “It is difficult for them. Mary has always been the quiet sort and it is difficult to get her to stop thinking and fretting. Kitty, likewise, has been reserved. I had hoped they would find a way to find joy again here, away from Longbourn and the constant reminders of father’s illness, but to no avail.”

Darcy nodded thoughtfully. “I too had hoped their time here would be a respite from the worry of the recent months. I regret that it is not the case. Do you think it would be better for them to return to Hertfordshire?”

“I think not,” Elizabeth said, not wanting to admit that she didn’t want her sisters to leave in part because she was desperate for their company, even if it was a quiet, withdrawn company. “I only wish for them to settle, to find some purpose.”

“They deserve that much,” Darcy said as he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“I hope,” he said carefully, “that in time, Pemberley will come to feel less like a house and more like a home—for you and your sisters.”

Elizabeth looked up at the stately structure, its grandeur softened by the warm afternoon light. She glanced back at him, her expression tinged with gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

Darcy held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, then offered her his arm. “Shall we return?”

***

The sun had almost dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the sprawling gardens of Pemberley. Darcy stood at the drawing room window, his fingers lightly clasping the curtains as he observed the stillness outside. Yet his mind was anything but tranquil.

Hosting Elizabeth’s sisters at Pemberley was a task he had agreed to with determination but little preparation. They were a family so different from his own in both demeanour and temperament—loud where his family was restrained, whimsical where his was focused, and now, in light of Mr Bennet’s illness, visibly burdened by concerns he could only speculate upon.

His promise to Elizabeth—to care for her family as if it were his own—had come easily enough in words. But now the reality of it loomed larger. It was no longer just about ensuring Elizabeth’s comfort. Her sisters were anxious, displaced, and, frankly, felt uneasy in his presence.

A small, hesitant voice broke his reverie. “Fitzwilliam?”

He turned to find Georgiana standing in the doorway, her embroidery hoop held in her hand. She approached cautiously, as she often did when discussing matters she thought might unsettle him.

“Is something troubling you?” she asked softly, perching on the arm of a nearby chair.

“Not troubling, exactly,” he replied, though his voice carried a distant note. “I was contemplating Elizabeth’s sisters. Mary and Kitty. They don’t seem to be adapting well to life here.”

Georgiana frowned thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed the same. Mary, especially—she’s so quiet. She rarely speaks during meals, and when she does, it’s with such solemnity. Kitty, too, though it seems as though she’s putting on a brave face. I think their father’s illness weighs on them more than we realise.”

“Elizabeth told me as much,” Darcy said. “It’s their concern for Mr Bennet that keeps them so subdued. I feel… inadequate, in some respects. I can handle issues of estate management, negotiations, even politics, but this? I don’t know where to begin.”

His confession felt heavier than he intended. Georgiana regarded him with quiet understanding.

“You begin by making them feel as though they belong here,” she said.

Darcy leaned against the back of a chair, his brow furrowed. “Easier said than done. I hardly know their personalities. Elizabeth, of course—she is endlessly captivating. But her sisters… they are still an enigma to me. Their concerns, their hopes, their interests—it’s all beyond my understanding.”

“Maybe not entirely,” Georgiana said after a moment. Setting her embroidery aside, she clasped her hands in her lap. “When I first returned to Pemberley after…” Her voice faltered, but she steadied herself and continued. “After Father died, I thought nothing would ever bring me joy again.”

Darcy straightened, his jaw tightening at the memory of their shared loss.

“But then,” Georgiana went on, “you encouraged me to take up my music lessons again. You never pushed me, never demanded anything of me. You simply provided me with something to do, something to hold on to when my thoughts threatened to overwhelm me. I didn’t realise it then, but it saved me, Fitzwilliam. It gave me purpose.”

Darcy’s face softened at her earnestness. He understood how much it had cost her to share this.

Georgiana continued, her tone more assured. “Perhaps Mary and Kitty need something similar. Distraction, yes, but also something that will give them a sense of accomplishment—a reminder that they’re more than their worries.”

Darcy looked at her, a faint glimmer of hope shining in his expression. “But what? I hardly know what would engage either of them.”

Georgiana tilted her head slightly, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, I’ve noticed a few things during their stay here. Mary has a natural affinity for the pianoforte, though she plays as if she’s unsure of herself, as if no one has ever encouraged her to see it as more than a chore. With a proper instructor, I think she could truly flourish.”

Darcy considered this, the gears in his mind already beginning to turn. “And Kitty?”

Georgiana’s smile deepened. “She enjoys being around children. At church, she was practically surrounded by them. They seemed to flock to her. She has a warmth about her that draws them in, and she seemed different with them. Lighter. Happier.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been paying closer attention than I realised.”

Georgiana shrugged modestly. “It’s easier to observe when people don’t see you as a threat. They hardly notice I’m there half the time.”

Darcy crossed his arms, pacing slowly as he absorbed her words. “A music instructor for Mary… perhaps lessons with one of the local masters. And for Kitty… there are orphanages nearby. A placement could give her the opportunity to connect with children regularly.”

Georgiana’s expression brightened. “That sounds perfect. I think they might surprise you, brother. A little kindness and effort could go a long way with them. And Elizabeth will appreciate it too.”

The mention of Elizabeth caused Darcy to pause, his thoughts briefly straying to her. It was strange how the act of understanding her sisters—their complexities, their struggles—seemed to draw him closer to understanding Elizabeth herself. She was deeply intertwined with them, and as he sought to ease their burden, he wondered if it might win her a small measure of trust.

“You are correct, Georgiana,” he said finally, his voice resolute. “I shall make the arrangements at once. Mary and Kitty deserve more than mere comfort. If I can give them a sense of fulfilment while they’re here, it’s worth the effort.”

Georgiana smiled at him. “It suits you, you know. This new side of you.”

Darcy gave her a quizzical look. “What side?”

She shrugged playfully. “The side that listens more than it broods. Elizabeth must have had quite the effect on you.”

A flicker of amusement lit Darcy’s eyes as he shook his head. “Enough of your observations, sister. If you’ll excuse me, I have arrangements to make.”

As he strode towards the door, Georgiana called after him, “I’m sure Mrs Darcy will be impressed!”

He didn’t dignify the comment with a reply, but a faint smile touched his lips as he left the room.