Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo)
“The difference, my dear William, is that now you know my character and virtue. The only truth that matters is you and I, and our love. The rest will be resolved, or it will not, but it is inconsequential as long as we are unified in our commitment.”
As swiftly as it came, his anger, shame, pain, and guilt evaporated. Elizabeth was correct. Only the truth of their love mattered.
Only she matters—nothing and no one else.
Darcy released a cleansing exhale and enfolded her in his arms. Resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, “How are you so wise, my love, for one so young?”
She smiled impishly and kissed him. “It is a secret, Mr. Darcy. You cannot expect a girl to reveal herself too soon. Then where would the mystery be?”
“I do love you, my Elizabeth. Heart and soul.”
He returned her tender kiss, then pressed her head against his shoulder, his chin resting atop the loose curls and hands lightly caressing her back. Perfect. She fits me perfectly. It soothed him to hold her, to feel her warm and alive in his arms.
“Very well then. I shall let Lady Catherine stew and rage if she must. I refuse to listen.”
“Hopefully she comes no closer than Rosings, or we may hear her raging. Poor Charlotte! I wonder if even Mr. Collins’s praise will appease.”
Darcy did not reply. Truthfully, he cared less about either Collins—not that he held any unkind thoughts toward Mrs. Collins, but he did not know her well enough to muster sympathy. Elizabeth’s remarks, which he knew were designed to lighten his heart, only reminded him of his cousin Anne.
“What is it, William? There is something else troubling you. Talking to me may help.”
Darcy inhaled the sweet aroma of lavender embedded in her silky tresses, and then exhaled in a breathy chuckle. “You will never cease to amaze me, Elizabeth.” He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead and led her to a sofa.
“Your jest brought to mind Anne. We are close friends, Anne and I, and have been since children. Our mutual affection is real, and precisely why we know how wrong we are for each other as marriage partners. Furthermore, imagining being…intimate…as husband and wife”—he cleared his throat—“well, it is incestuous, to be honest.”
Evading Elizabeth’s eyes, Darcy nervously smoothed his palm across his right thigh. “Despite Lady Catherine’s insistence, Anne and I would never have agreed to marry, so this eventuality was destined no matter whom I chose to marry. I know Anne is thrilled for my happiness. What I abhor is her being alone at Rosings, forced to bear the brunt of her mother’s ire.”
“Oh, William, I am sorry for this! I regret that while in Kent, I paid scant heed to Miss de Bourgh, although she seemed pleasant enough. To be honest, I presumed that your not marrying her, when Lady Catherine claimed it a foregone arrangement, meant you were not fond. I apologize for my error.”
“There is no need. I can see the logic in your conclusion. In truth, over these past half-dozen years, Anne and I have consciously inserted a distance between us when in Lady Catherine’s presence. Her badgering worsened when we displayed our affection. As is obvious, our strategy of pretended dislike, or at least disinterest, did not thwart her intention, but it did allow us to experience some peace.”
“Poor Miss de Bourgh.”
“Yes. Of course, Anne is familiar with her mother’s…temper and manner of speech, shall we say. She has developed techniques to deflect, or avoid when necessary. A fortuitous fainting spell or onslaught of fatigue will do the trick if nothing else works.”
Darcy chuckled, a smile touching his lips. But Elizabeth was frowning. “Is Miss de Bourgh’s illness feigned then?”
“Sadly it is not. She has suffered from a heart ailment since an adolescent. I only meant that her illness provides a ready excuse to be left alone. Under the circumstances, I cannot fault her for the occasional deception. And, regardless how it may appear, Lady Catherine does love her daughter and is overly solicitous to her fragile condition. Nevertheless, strain is not healthy for Anne, so I worry. Perhaps I can induce Richard to take a trip to check on her. I would need to promise him the moon since enticing him to visit Rosings under the best of occasions is a chore. Speaking of which…”
Darcy rose and retrieved the stack of mail from where it had been dumped onto a random table when he stormed into the library. “You, my lovely Elizabeth, have accomplished a miracle in defusing my fury and lifting my spirits. These letters will surely add to my tranquility and happiness.”
He ripped open the one from Colonel Fitzwilliam first and scanned the practically unreadable penmanship that only decades of deciphering made it possible for him to manage.
“Excellent! As I hoped, Richard says he will be returning to London early next week. I cannot wait to tell him of us.”
“I thought you wrote him already.”
“I decided to wait to see him in person. By the time a letter reached him after bumping hither and yon, he would be in Town anyway. And, with that in mind”—he tapped the twine-tied bundle with one finger—“these are from my solicitor. I shall look through them tonight, but I am certain this means I need to leave for a short time. I am sorry, Elizabeth.”
“You warned me, and I understand. Your business cannot be ignored. In a few weeks, Jane and I will be in London, so we will visit with you then, yes?”
Darcy stroked her cheek, smiling as he answered, “Yes, when you are in London, I will surely be there. However, I have no intention of tarrying in Town for weeks. Forgive another display of my ardency for you, Elizabeth, but I truly believe I would go mad if separated for so long.” She flushed prettily and lowered her eyes. Darcy continued his feathering caress of her cheek. “I will attend to my business, some of which concerns you…No, do not ask, Elizabeth”—her mouth snapped closed—“because I will not tell you. Marriage to me, you may as well accept, entails being pampered and surprised upon occasion. So, I will do what I must, including visiting with my cousin, and return to Netherfield as soon as possible.”
“When will you leave?”
“Tomorrow, early. Best to get it done with. Fortunately, Mr. Daniels and his staff are extraordinarily competent, so that portion of the journey will be swiftly accomplished. The rest may take a bit more time and effort, but I shan’t be gone more than a week, I promise.”
“This is all quite mysterious, Mr. Darcy. Now my mind is whirling with intriguing scenarios!”
“Good. It shall occupy your time while I am away. Of course, you will undoubtedly enjoy the solitude and reprieve from my selfish monopolization of your day.”
“Indeed, it has been an exhaustive week, catering to the whims of such a demanding gentleman.”
Darcy chuckled, knowing she was teasing but also suspecting she would not suffer without his company to the degree he would. Not wanting to think about it, he turned to Georgiana’s letter. He held the pages so Elizabeth could read along with him, a move that startled her, judging by the expression on her face and hesitation before leaning closer. He doubted Georgiana’s letter too personal or private. Moreover, the importance in Elizabeth reading of Georgiana’s delight in their betrothal transcended any possible embarrassment on his part.
As it happened, the references to Darcy’s “poetic phrases of love” and “heart-fluttering descriptions of his Elizabeth” as well as a lengthy commentary on how enraptured she, Mrs. Reynolds, and Mrs. Annesley were by his “ceaseless expressions of joy”—indicating his letter was apparently shared with them and goodness only knows who else among the Pemberley staff—did cause his cheeks to color.
Elizabeth merely smiled and murmured, “How sweet,” but said nothing more on that topic. Instead, she focused on Georgiana’s gushing delight, saying, “You were correct. Miss Darcy does seem stupendously pleased about our engagement.”
“If I had to guess, the only reason she did not beg me to fetch her forthwith was to partake of the preparations for your arrival.”
“There you go again, speaking of my joining the household as
if a tremendous undertaking. Seriously, William, I hope you have not gone to extremes. My needs are simple and the only wish I have is to be with you. My embarrassment would be acute to think everyone at Pemberley was being put upon, or you were spending exorbitant amounts of money for objects or furnishings that are unnecessary.”
Darcy listened to her carefully but did not hasten to respond. Slowly, he nodded and clasped her hands gently. “I believe this area is one where we need to shift our thinking.”
He filtered through the correct phrases while she stared at him with a faint frown. “Elizabeth, I cannot begin to convey how marvelous it is to find a woman, a quality woman, who loves and wants me for who I am inside, the man Fitzwilliam, and not only for what I can provide as Mr. Darcy, gentleman of fortune and prestige. It is a gift. You are a gift. We are blessed to have found each other, are we not?”
“Yes…yes, we are. And I do love you. You, William. The rest is nice, I am sure, but not important to me.”
“Therein lies the irony, my love. The rest, as you put it, is also who I am. Good and bad, I suppose. I am the product of my upbringing, heritage, station, and wealth. Thanks to you, I am learning to be a better person, but I shall always be Darcy of Pemberley. As such, I will forever, God willing, be able to provide for you abundantly. As I will for our children someday.
“To me, it is not merely a matter of having the wherewithal to do so, but it is also that my heart desires to take care of you. This includes your physical comforts and surroundings, and the pretty trinkets. It brings me joy to express my love in this way.”
To emphasize his statement, he twisted the sparkling ring on her left hand and then planted a kiss on the knuckle above it. “All that being said, I am aware of how uncomfortable this is for you. I am not sure exactly why, but I never want you to be uncomfortable with me or about our future together.”
Elizabeth was staring at their linked hands in her lap, making her face unreadable. He was unsure if he should say more or give her a chance to respond. Luckily, Elizabeth Bennet, even if taken unawares or nervous, was quick witted and rarely backed away from open conversation.
“It is uncomfortable, William, although I confess I cannot say why precisely. I suppose it is a residual fear that you might wonder, however slightly, if my change of heart was because of…the rest.”
“Considering you knew about ‘the rest’ from the moment I walked into the Meryton Assembly and still have a difficult time calling it what it is—my money—you are safe from me doubting your motives.”
“Good to know,” she said, smiling but still gazing downward. “Honestly, I am not too worried, given all we have been through and how I abused you. Not the smart move of a woman after a man for his income. I know this, and you know this, and a handful of others as well, but…”
“But,” he finished when she trailed off, “too many others do think that is why you are marrying me. Is that what troubles you?” She looked at him, tears filling her eyes as she nodded once. “Ah! My darling Elizabeth!” He kissed her lightly, brushing the tear that fell. “If you refer to Lady Catherine or Caroline Bingley, they do not matter. You said it yourself! People will presume and speculate, primarily because that is what bored people do. We know the truth of our relationship, and in time it shall be evident.”
“It is not just Miss Bingley with her insinuations or Lady Catherine with her accusations. Nor do I dwell upon the opinions of strangers. It is the people here, in Hertfordshire, most whom I have known all my life. It is humiliating, and maddening, to hear the comments and whispers, answer the same questions, see the surprise or indicting smirks. How can they think so poorly of me?”
Darcy could easily answer that question but preferred not to remind her of Mrs. Bennet’s unsubtle maneuvering and loud declarations regarding her daughters, especially Jane, and the two new gentlemen in town. As greatly as Darcy regretted his rude behavior during those initial weeks of their acquaintance, it undoubtedly spared him having to contend with Mrs. Bennet and her matchmaking. Not that most mothers and fathers think differently; they simply have a bit more tact as they go about finagling their children’s futures. The reality is that wealth and rank are the driving forces behind a large percentage of unions. Marriages for love are the rarity, and even then the anticipation is that practicalities play a role. The prevailing judgment is to applaud a joining for practical purposes, not to condemn it.
Not wishing to point out facts connected to past troubles, Darcy answered with a less inciting response to her query. “Dearest, I believe you are mistaken. Surprised, yes—I am sure many of the local citizens are. That, however, is a reflection on me, not you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Elizabeth, your friends know you are independent and intelligent. And as I am now painfully aware, they were privy to how intensely you disliked me. Furthermore, they disliked me as well, for some good reasons—”
“Because of Mr. Wickham—”
“He would not have been believed if I had not given them reason.” He pressed two fingers against her lips to forestall the rebuttal he sensed coming. “That is past. The relevant point now is that because of their familiarity with you, the citizens I have encountered thus far at our gatherings are curious more than anything. My impression from the majority has been an honest willingness to ascertain what persuaded the esteemed Elizabeth Bennet to accept arrogant, reticent Mr. Darcy. Perhaps he does have a few decent qualities, they think, if Miss Eliza has agreed to risk shackling herself to him!”
“Do not say that,” she scolded, but with a hint of a smile at his colorful speech. “You are wonderful, William, and they should be able to determine this immediately. You have been polite, conversational, generous with your time, and patient with their boring stories and fawning. I know how stressful it has been for you, yet you never complain or back away from any invitation or annoying person. I hate that you are striving to please while they do not recognize this incredible person I am marrying. Not the single man in possession of a good fortune, who was once considered the rightful property of anyone in Meryton with an eligible daughter!”
“That is one way to state it.” Darcy laughed. “It is also the relevant point. I went from being…sought after, if you will, to summarily dismissed due to my surliness, to engaged to the one woman with the best reason to loathe me. Naturally they are flummoxed! But again, the response is not as dire as you perceive. I rather doubt they shall universally determine my wonderfulness, as you have”—he flashed a comically smug grin, earning the giggle he wanted—“nevertheless, my efforts to present myself in a gracious manner are paying off. And it is not stressful at all.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, and Darcy sensed a scold was coming. “Did we not agree to be truthful to each other, Mr. Darcy? Do not look me in the eye and fib that socializing to the degree we have this week has not been difficult. You, who has not the talent to converse easily with strangers?”
Darcy frowned. Standing, he paced to the window, rubbed the back of his neck, and then tugged on his cravat. They did agree to be truthful, and it was a promise he intended to keep. That did not mean it was easy, however, when the risk was damaging their newly established harmony.
Inhaling deeply, he turned but stayed near the window. “As you wish, Elizabeth. The truth. Yes, it is arduous for me. Largely, this is because I am not relaxed in unknown company. It is a fault of mine, I am well aware, and my position often requires me to step into situations and conversations that are trying. I do it because I must, but I also avoid it if possible. In this case”—he gestured between the two of them—“I gladly accept the necessity because I love you. I shan’t deny that it is a sacrifice, of a sort, but one I am willing to make to please you.”
“This is not right, William. You should not have to—”
“Yes, Elizabeth, I should. As will you, from time to time. Being unified means giving and sacrificing. Besides, in my case it is beneficial to socialize with people I would not normally
entertain or if I did, would look down upon. Fulfilling my promise to be truthful, I have discovered some of your friends to be enjoyable.”
“Some?” she asked, brow lifting and corners of her mouth curling slightly.
“Some,” Darcy repeated, holding his serious expression. “I will not lie and claim to delight in the company here. I am sorry, but as I said, I am Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. My eyes have been opened, thanks to you. Yet I cannot change overnight, and the truth, again, is that as a matter of course, the society I prefer is…different and always will be. My standards are exacting, I admit. It is my upbringing, pompous pride if you wish, yet there it is.”
He stepped to where she sat silently on the sofa, one hand clutching the cushioned armrest as he gazed into her beautiful eyes. God, help me express myself and help her to understand. “Elizabeth, in this, we are not akin. I am in awe of your ability to converse and easily connect with literally anyone. I do not have that gift, and I never will overcome my native reticence. If possible, I would only interact with family and close friends. I know that is impossible, but I do not like moving beyond my comfort.”
Remaining still, he watched her stand and approach. “What was it you said earlier? That we needed to shift our thinking as we learn to understand each other?” Darcy nodded. “I am finding this to be an exhilarating exercise, Mr. Darcy. How boring would it be if we were precisely akin in everything?”
“Exceedingly boring.”
“And were you not drawn to me because I am refreshing and, upon occasion, shockingly unlike the women you have been surrounded by?” She laid her hand over his on the sofa armrest, Darcy finally choking out a husky yes. “Similarly, I was drawn to and fell in love with Mr. Darcy of Pemberley as much as the man William. That is the truth.”
No power on earth could have stopped him from kissing her at that point. He restrained his urgency to carry the kiss to a deeper level, yet even the tender exchange left them both breathless. Teetering on the edge of consuming desire, Darcy managed to withdraw from the intoxicating sensation of her lips, suggesting in an unsteady voice that they return to Bingley and Jane.