Logically she knew that it probably had been an inevitable event since Anne and Darcy would never have married, neither of them desiring it. Lady Catherine would undoubtedly have been furious at whomever Darcy had chosen to wed over her daughter. Still, logic aside, Lizzy could not stop feeling a bit guilty and wished she could facilitate reconciliation. If it ever happened, it would not be now, so Lizzy pushed the matter from her mind.
Darcy closed his ledger with a snap and stretched his neck, sighing deeply. Lizzy had finished the last invitation, to the Lathrops, so she rose and handed it to her husband.
“The last one,” she declared. “How does it sound?”
He took it from her, claiming her hand in the process for a brief kiss. He smiled up at her. “I am certain it is as well written as all the others, my love.” As he read, Lizzy stood behind him and began massaging his temples with her fingers. She then ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp to relieve the tension she knew he felt after concluding long columns of mathematics. She traveled to his neck and shoulders, kneading firmly with her surprisingly strong hands. Darcy groaned and dropped his chin to his chest. “That feels so wonderful,” he sighed.
“Your muscles are too tight,” she stated. “How did you ever manage without me to do this?”
“Samuel is actually a fine masseur,” he mumbled, “although, the end result of his attentions was never as pleasant as yours!” He clasped one hand and pulled her around and onto his lap. She laughed and then kissed him soundly as her hands resumed their devotion to his shoulders. Darcy untied her nightgown, slipping one hand inside for his own form of massaging.
Lizzy faltered and gasped against his lips. “Sir!” she teased, playfully slapping at his probing hand, “I cannot complete my wifely duty of easing my husband’s pain if you distract me so!”
Darcy chuckled and resumed his provocative activities with stubborn persuasion. “There are countless ways to ease my pain, my heart. We simply have differing ideas at the moment. However, I am supremely confident that I can modify your direction with alacrity.”
To further prove his point, he fluidly arose with her secured in his arms and carried her into their bedchamber. In the end, he was correct and Lizzy did not balk in the slightest.
CHAPTER TEN
Meeting the Matlocks
LIZZY LAY DRIFTING OFF to sleep, bare back pressed firmly against her husband’s chest, his heat seeping into her and his strong arms holding her tightly. As always, she was overwhelmed by the incredible peace and joy she felt in the presence of this man she loved so totally. His breath tickled her shoulder as he slept with his head next to hers, the power and strength of him apparent in every muscle of his body as he held her securely. He could not be any closer unless he crawled under her skin! She loved his need to cuddle and, oddly enough, had no trouble sleeping with him so near. In fact, her need to feel him beside her had become a necessity.
Her sleepy musings turned to Christmas. Lizzy zealously anticipated the holiday, even though it meant disruption to their idyllic solitude. She was anxious to renew and deepen her friendship with Georgiana, and she knew William missed his sister. Col. Fitzwilliam was a kind and humorous man, sure to add laughter to the festivities. The elder Fitzwilliams were much more stoic than their youngest son, but they were polite and they were now her family. Memories of her introduction to them in London returned to her, and with those remembrances freshly recalled, Lizzy fell asleep.
London, some five weeks previous
It had been agreed upon by all that the trousseau and wedding gowns for the two Bennet sisters must be acquired in Town. At the behest of Lizzy, Mr. Bennet rather than Mrs. Bennet, had escorted his daughters to the home of his wife’s brother, the Gardiners, in Cheapside. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley had accompanied them on their journey in their own carriage, both wishing that they could ride with their fiancées, but such arrangements were frowned upon without proper chaperones.
The first few days were spent in a whirlwind of shopping. Aunt Gardiner accompanied the girls while Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley entertained Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner. Mr. Darcy enthusiastically shepherded his soon-to-be family to his club and other favorite haunts. Mr. Bennet was delighted to pass hours in the Darcy House library, a fraction the size or quantity of Pemberley’s but impressive nonetheless. Col. Fitzwilliam joined the men whenever his duties allowed him to do so, and Lizzy was certain her father had not had so much fun in years. One night her uncle and father did not even return from Darcy House, and the next day all the gentlemen suffered from headaches they tried unsuccessfully to hide!
Most evenings they all dined at the Darcy townhouse on Grosvenor Square. Darcy proudly introduced Lizzy to the staff there, much smaller than the staff at Pemberley. Mrs. Smyth, the housekeeper, was terribly formal and distant, unlike Mrs. Reynolds, but quite efficient. Darcy House was modest and soberly decorated with few of the flamboyant embellishments found at Pemberley and far fewer rooms. The garden was graceful and beautiful with several secluded areas, although not huge. Darcy showed Lizzy the chambers that would be hers and, as at Pemberley, she saw no reason to alter them; however, these intimate details could not be openly discussed during their engagement, so she evaded the issue of redecorating for the present.
All in all, she was delighted with the house and overjoyed at the chance to observe Darcy in the comfort of his home. The stolen moments alone that they contrived were significantly more intense and amorous, dangerously skirting the edges of propriety. It was not until after they were married that he would confess how tortuous it was for him to have her in his home without being her husband. His desire for her had overwhelmed him and, he admitted, the nearness of his bedchamber, where so many dreams of her had transpired, exponentially added to his distress. It was during this time that Lizzy became fully cognizant of the hidden passion of her betrothed and the tremendous effect his passion had on her!
Darcy and Bingley managed to keep their presence in London quiet, not wishing to attend any of the usual social obligations that came with their station. Caroline, much to Lizzy and Jane’s relief, had accompanied the Hursts to Bath for a short vacation. With Georgiana still at Pemberley until the week before the wedding, the only extended family to deal with were the Earl and his wife. This could be problematic.
It had started, not shockingly, with Lady Catherine. In the first days after their engagement, Darcy had written his sister Georgiana, Mrs. Reynolds, and Cousin Richard glowing letters of his bliss at Miss Bennet accepting his hand. His letter to his uncle had been more formal but filled with personal revelations of his joy. Darcy was fairly close to his Aunt and Uncle Fitzwilliam but knew they would be shocked and dismayed at his choice of wife. Ultimately none of this mattered to him; however, his regard for their opinion and wish for their sanction was desired. His letter to his Aunt Catherine had been extremely formal and terse; he had not forgiven her for her inappropriate actions at Longbourn.
Despite his irritation, Darcy had not expected the rabid vitriol of his aunt’s attack against his fiancée. The letter she sent in answer to his news was lengthy and malicious. First she had responded to his announcement with a scathing denouncement of his character. According to her, he had betrayed his dear mother’s memory by callously abandoning Anne to spinsterhood. She said he was selfish, irresponsible, and a black mark on the ancient house of Darcy. There was much more and it did hurt; however, he was a self-confident man who knew the truth about his own character, so he could mainly ignore his aunt’s horrid words. It was when she viciously condemned Elizabeth personally that he responded with outrage and steely resolve. Lady Catherine had assaulted his honor as a gentleman and accountability as husband and protector of his wife, and he was beyond offended.
Lizzy never knew the full content of Lady Catherine’s letter. She probably would not have known the letter existed if she had not been at Netherfield the day it arrived. Darcy and Bingley were playing chess while the ladies sat nearby when the foo
tman brought the gentlemen the day’s post. Darcy’s stack was large, as always, due to the numerous business interests he managed. He flipped through it quickly stopping with a frown upon spying his aunt’s hand. It had been a week since his engagement and his letter had only posted four days ago, so he was surprised at the haste of her reply and even that she had replied at all.
Later he would condemn himself for not having the foresight to open the letter in private or for not controlling his temper. As he read his face darkened visibly, eyes as black agates and lips pressed into the thin line signifying tremendous anger. Forgetting where he was in his wrath, he jerked from his chair uttering a vile curse and stormed from the room. Needless to say, the three other occupants of the room were stunned speechless.
Bingley had more experience with his friend’s temper, so he recovered quickly, stammering to assure the ladies that all would be well. After a moment of paralysis, Lizzy rose to follow Darcy. He had disappeared from sight, but the blanched face of a maid down the hall was indication enough of the direction he had taken.
She found him in the library, staring out a window. At first glance he seemed calm, but in the short time of their acquaintance, Lizzy had learned to recognize the signs of tension in his body—and never had he been as tense as he was at this moment. Fury emanated from him in nearly visible waves. Lizzy approached him silently and gently laid her hand on his arm.
He jolted in surprise and looked at her with such ferocity on his face that she flinched. “Leave me be, Elizabeth,” he commanded flatly in a voice that brooked no argument.
Nonetheless, she refused. “No,” she said firmly, “Talk to me, William.”
He stared at her in shocked ire at her refusal and then turned his gaze to the window. He fluttered the letter in the air. “My aunt is not pleased about our engagement,” he said with massive understatement.
Lizzy surprised him further by actually laughing, and his scowl increased. “I find no humor in this, Elizabeth.”
“Really, William! Did you imagine she would embrace me with open arms and host a party? Lady Catherine made her opinion of me quite clear at Longbourn, an event that we should essentially be thankful for since, left to your own devices, you may not have gotten up the nerve to propose again.” She said the last bit teasingly and rose onto her toes to kiss one cheek while caressing the other. He continued to stare at her, clearly torn between crushing her into his arms or further ranting about the letter. In the end he did neither. He sighed and walked several paces away before turning back to look at her. He was in turmoil and had no idea what to say.
Lizzy moved a bit closer to him but kept a space, sensing he needed some distance. “William, I am indifferent to what your aunt has to say about me or us. I love you with all my heart and you love me. She cannot alter that, can she?”
“Of course not!” he said in a strangled tone.
“She is angry at her dashed hopes for you and Anne. I am not a mother yet, however, I can partly sympathize. It does in no way justify her actions or words, but you must try to understand a little.”
Darcy shook his head. “Elizabeth, it is more than that. She has slandered you personally, your character and virtue and qualifications as my intended. This I cannot forgive.”
She drew closer before replying softly, “Did you not initially doubt my qualifications and connections, beloved?” His countenance paled and his mouth fell open at her words, and she rapidly closed the gap, taking his beloved face into her hands so he would not turn away. “The difference is that you now know my character and virtue and you love me. The only truth that matters is us and our love. The rest will resolve itself or it will not, but it is inconsequential as long as we are unified in our commitment.”
Darcy sighed again and rested his forehead against hers, arms enfolding her. “How are you so wise, my love, for one so young?”
She smiled impishly and kissed him lightly. “It is a secret, Mr. Darcy. You cannot expect a girl to reveal all too soon can you? Then where would the mystery be?”
He laughed. “Very well. I shall let Lady Catherine stew and rage if she must; however, I refuse to listen.”
Darcy waited a couple of weeks before he addressed his aunt. His letter was blunt and formal. In language that permitted no error, he informed her that he would forever revere her as his mother’s sister but that his loyalty was to Elizabeth. Until she accepted this incontrovertible fact and rendered his betrothed the esteem due her as Mistress of Pemberley and Mrs. Darcy, she would not be welcome in his life.
Unbeknownst to him at the time, Lady Catherine had been busy spreading her disgust to Lord and Lady Matlock, and anyone else who was willing to listen. The news of Mr. Darcy’s engagement had disseminated expeditiously through the ton, rumors galore based on little in the way of truth. Darcy’s supreme happiness conjoined with his general disdain for London society was such that he gave no consideration to what gossip may be circulating. The opinion of his uncle and aunt was another matter. In both instances, he confidently believed that Elizabeth’s charms would eventually prevail. The fortuitous trip to Town presented the opportunity for him to introduce his fiancée to the rest of his mother’s family.
Upon arriving with the Bennets, Richard informed Darcy of the letters from Lady Catherine to his parents and the confusion they harbored over Darcy’s choice of bride. Col. Fitzwilliam had sung the praises of Elizabeth and made no secret of the love Darcy felt for his bride-to-be. The Fitzwilliams cared very much for their nephew and they trusted the opinion of their son, so they were willing to forestall jumping to any conclusions. All the same, Lord Matlock was prepared to forcefully remind Darcy of his duties to Pemberley if his choice of wife was as poor as Lady Catherine intimated. The Earl was a realist and the patriarch of a noble family. Love and romance have their place, but not at the expense of tradition, duty, and honor to one’s name, country, and ancestry.
On their fifth evening in Town, Lizzy and her father accompanied Mr. Darcy to the Matlock townhouse for dinner. Strangely, Lizzy was not at all nervous. Perhaps it was her naïveté, but truly it was simply her nature and character to not be intimidated. Darcy observed her sunny face and gay personality as she chatted with him and Mr. Bennet in the carriage and his pride and love swelled. She was amazing. So fearless and brave, so vibrant and luminous. If his uncle and aunt disapproved… well, they would be fools and he knew they were not fools.
Per Darcy’s behest, the dinner party was to be an informal one—just the immediate Fitzwilliam family to meet Lizzy and Mr. Bennet. Aside from the necessity of being introduced to Lord and Lady Matlock, Darcy wished for his betrothed to become reacquainted with his cousin Richard. The Darcy and Fitzwilliam families were generational friends, their affection and accord preceding by decades the marriage of Lady Anne Fitzwilliam to James Darcy.
Richard, three years Darcy’s senior, was his oldest playmate and confidant, the two nigh on inseparable when younger. More so even than with his aunt or uncle, it was desirous that Richard and Lizzy grow comfortable with each other. Darcy was not too concerned, the two having already established a rapport in Kent. In fact, at the time the native charm and ebullience of Col. Fitzwilliam, in sharp contrast to his own reticence, had been mildly irritating. Observing the easy familiarity that arose between the woman he loved and his cousin would have birthed a raging jealousy if he did not know Richard’s strong abhorrence to the very idea of marriage!
Joining them would be the eldest Fitzwilliam brother and heir to the Matlock earldom, Jonathan, and his wife Priscilla. Darcy had never been close to his older cousin, but there was a fondness nonetheless and he was pleased to have Jonathan as part of the party. Darcy’s youngest cousin, Annabella, was not able to attend, her Society duties as Lady Montgomery preferable to meeting her cousin’s country fiancée. Not that she voiced this opinion in such blunt language, but Darcy well knew Annabella’s superior attitude to be everything once accused of him.
Introductions were made in the
imposing foyer of the Matlock townhouse near St. James’s Square, the party then gathering in the parlor for a short spell before dinner. Lord Matlock was dazzled immediately by Miss Bennet’s charm and liveliness. Lady Matlock was equally captivated, but her gaze rested most often on the face of her dearly loved nephew, marveling at the animation and peace that infused his countenance even as he maintained his typical reserve. It was no mystery why Darcy had succumbed to her, Miss Bennet being as gregarious as he was taciturn. They say opposites attract, and here was a clear example of the old adage, as well as a visible illustration of how love opens one’s soul.
Mr. Bennet was the archetypical country gentleman. Proper to be sure, but somewhat irreverent, intelligent, and with a piquant wit and wry humor. Lord Matlock, for all his elevated rank, was the master of a country estate and appreciated men such as Mr. Bennet for their unpretentious mannerisms. In no time at all, the two men were engaged in a friendly discourse of modern literature versus the classics.
Dinner was a lively affair with conversation flowing from all sides. Lord Matlock and Mr. Bennet conversed easily on numerous topics, with Lizzy joining in frequently. Col. Fitzwilliam, always full of stories and anecdotes, kept them entertained and even managed to elicit a laugh or two from his sober brother and pompous sister-in-law. Darcy was content to placidly observe his fiancée enchant his relatives, contributing now and then to the general conversation.
Retiring again to the parlor after dinner, the atmosphere relaxed further. Some light entertainment was engaged in, Mrs. Fitzwilliam being quite accomplished on the pianoforte, but primarily it was an amiable setting for deeper communication as they sipped tea and brandy. Lady Matlock spoke adoringly of Derbyshire and Pemberley, reminiscing to Lizzy of her own days as a new bride relocating to an unfamiliar land.
“You have seen Pemberley, I am taken to understand?” Lizzy affirmed Lady Matlock’s inquiry. “It may seem imposing, Miss Bennet, but the Darcys have made it a home. And never fear, Fitzwilliam is the soul of patience and kindness. You will be most happy there, I am sure.”