Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 21

Bingley’s Hired House

Half Moon Street

London

Noon

Fitzwilliam Darcy stepped into the vestibule of the house on Half Moon Street and handed over his hat and cane as he studied the room with interest. It was not a large house, and the furniture was not overly fine or ostentatious. The butler, whom Darcy recognized from Netherfield Hall, guided him down a side corridor and into the drawing room, which faced a modest yard in the back.

In addition to Bingley, his wife, and his sister by marriage, he found several other visitors present, including Miss Storey, her brother Mr. Storey, Lady Audrey Galpin, and her brother, Lord Montcalm. After he greeted the Bingleys and Miss Bennet, he turned to the latter, who smiled and said, “We were just discussing Lord Byron’s new epic poem, Mr. Darcy. Have you read it, perchance? Childe Harold’s Pilgramage?”

“Regrettably, I have not laid my hands on a copy yet,” he replied. “Do you like it?”

Elizabeth tilted her head and said, “Lady Audrey was kind enough to lend me her copy only yesterday, so I have read only the first fourth of the book. It is certainly well done.”

“But you are not going into raptures,” Lady Audrey remarked with a twinkle in her eyes.

“I am not!” Elizabeth replied. “Lord Byron is truly skilled, but he also seems melancholy, and at the moment, I prefer cheerier fare. But please, Mr. Darcy, will you not sit down?”

He did so, and seconds later, a maid entered with tea service. Jane Bingley, who had been seated very close to her husband on the loveseat, shifted enough to pour tea for her guests. The ensuing conversation focused largely on books, and Darcy found himself mostly silent as Lord Montcalm, Lady Audrey, and Miss Bennet spoke eagerly on a number of topics. The discussion was fascinating, and he enjoyed it, but he was not sorry when the other visitors rose to their feet and made their farewells, leaving him alone with Bingley and his family.

“Well, Darcy,” Bingley said, placing an arm around his wife, “what do you think of our little house in London?”

“It is not so very little,” Mrs. Bingley protested with a smile.

“It is not nearly as large as Netherfield, or Darcy House, or even my brother Hurst’s house,” Bingley said and then grinned, “but it is perfect for us.”

“Indeed, it is,” Elizabeth said and turned dancing eyes on Darcy, which in turn caused his stomach to do a peculiar flip. “You must know, sir, that my mother would very much like to spend a few weeks here in Town, but regrettably there is only one guest bedchamber, and I am occupying it.”

“As I said, the perfect size,” Bingley declared.

Darcy turned an uncertain look on Mrs. Bingley, who smiled placidly and said, “Charles likes my mother, and my sister and I love her, but after even a month married at Netherfield, we were eager to be farther away from Longbourn.”

“Without a doubt, Mrs. Bennet means well,” Bingley chimed in, “and perhaps it has been so long since she married that she does not remember what it is like to be a newlywed.”

“She and my father were never as in love, or as compatible, as you and Jane,” Elizabeth said fondly. “But Mr. Darcy, I did wish to tell you that I received a letter from Lydia only yesterday, and must thank you again for finding a boarding school for her. It seems an ideal situation.”

“She is happy?” he asked, surprised.

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. “No, she is miserable, but based on her complaints, she is miserable for excellent reasons. She has been forced to do actual chores, and to read something other than novels, and wear simpler dresses, and eat dull food. Moreover, there are no handsome men in residence. It is very good for her.”

Darcy, remembering the youngest Miss Bennet’s idiocy regarding George Wickham, could only nod in agreement.

“Tell me, Miss Bennet, are you enjoying your time in London?” he asked.

“Oh yes, very much!” Elizabeth returned. “I knew I would find great pleasure in spending time with Jane and Charles, but I have also quite enjoyed the ball and dinner parties we have attended, not to mention meeting such wonderful acquaintances.”

“Charles and I do not pretend to be bookworms,” Mrs. Bingley said with a chuckle. “Thus, Lizzy is very pleased to have met Miss Storey and Lady Audrey, both of whom are great readers.”

Something eased in Darcy’s chest at these words, and he said, “Have you had the opportunity of visiting any of the libraries yet?”

“I have!” Elizabeth cried out. “Indeed, I met both of the ladies just mentioned at Hookham’s. Have you been there?”

“I have.”

“It is magnificent, is it not? All those books! We are very fortunate to live in times like these, are we not?”

Darcy regarded her in confusion and repeated, “Times like these?”

“Yes!” Elizabeth responded. “Think of it; only fifty years ago, there were no libraries like Hookham’s and Hatchard’s. My father’s library is impressive for a country squire, but the number of books he has squirreled away is nothing compared to Hookham’s.”

Darcy smiled, unconsciously making himself even more handsome, and said, “You are quite correct, Miss Bennet. We are blessed to live in times like these.”

The visit continued for another few minutes before Bingley whisked Darcy off to his library to discuss some matters concerning the estate at Netherfield and then invited him to dinner. Darcy regretfully declined as he was committed to a dinner party elsewhere, but he accepted an invitation for a few days hence.

On his way home from Half Moon Street, he mused over his peculiar reactions during his visit to the Bingley’s.

He had, he realized, been envious at the camaraderie between Miss Bennet and the male members of the visiting party, but was relieved when Elizabeth explained that she had become acquainted with Miss Storey and Lady Audrey at the circulating library. That must be why Lord Montcalm and Mr. Storey had visited, surely? Neither gentleman could possibly be interested in an impoverished country squire’s daughter, no matter how lively, lovely, intelligent, and sparkling she was?

Surely not?

And in any case, it mattered not. Because while he was in love with Miss Bennet…

Catching himself mid-thought, he started once more. While he liked Miss Bennet very much…

He would not, could not, marry her.

/

Lady Catherine’s Favorite Parlor

Rosings

Kent

Richard stepped into his aunt’s parlor, casting a glance around at the excessively grand surroundings. The large room was lit by the sun streaming through the tall windows on the east wall, granting those within an excellent view of Rosing Park’s elaborate gardens. The walls were hung with expensive paintings set in mahogany frames, the carpet beneath his feet was pale and plush, and the furnishings were carved out of the finest oak and upholstered with silk cushions. Richard could not imagine how his aunt found this comfortable. He much preferred simpler rooms, where he would be able to relax without worrying about staining the carpet or tearing the delicate cushions.

Despite the richness of her surroundings, Lady Catherine somehow managed to upstage them all. She was dressed in a silk gown with glittering jewels sewn into her sleeves and bodice, causing her to look out of place even here.

“Well, what is it?” Lady Catherine said impatiently, sitting down on a chair which looked rather like a throne. “I need to talk to my steward soon.”

Richard took his time selecting a chair near the window, which allowed the sunlight to fall on his face.

“I wish to speak to you of Darcy,” he said.

This pulled his aunt’s attention away from her brocaded sleeve and onto her nephew.

“What about Darcy?” she demanded sharply.

Her nephew pasted a grave expression on his face and said, “I fear I was not entirely honest with you yesterday, though of course I could not speak openly with guests in attendance; the truth is that Darcy is taking part in the Season.”

“The Season?” Lady Catherine repeated blankly. “Why on earth?”

“I believe that he is seeking a wife,” the colonel replied simply. Having ignited the fuse, he waited for the imminent explosion.

Lady Catherine did not disappoint him. She was on her feet within seconds and began stomping up and down the room in front of the fire, raving about her dead sister’s wish, and her own wish, and her outrage that Darcy would set aside his engagement to Anne. Richard, who did not find the rubicund face of his outraged aunt an attractive sight, turned his attention on the rose garden. Some of the bushes were flowering, and while he might prefer the less formal wilderness south of the mansion, he had to admit that it was very pretty.

“Have you been listening to me?” Lady Catherine bellowed, so close to Richard’s ear that he winced. He stood up so that he could loom over her and said, “Aunt, I must request that you stop shouting at me. This is not my doing, but Darcy’s.”

“But you are his older cousin, and I expect you to do your duty and force Darcy to do his duty! From their infancy, they…”

“I do not care about the cradle engagement,” Richard stated baldly. His aunt’s brown eyes flared wide for a moment, astonished at being interrupted, and her skin purpled slightly more in her fury.

He raised a placating hand and said, “Please, Lady Catherine, let us sit down and talk about this sensibly.”

He said this with sufficient winsomeness that she did, reluctantly, take her throne once again, and he sat down across from her, giving up his pleasant view of the gardens in order to face her directly.

“The issue is that Darcy thinks Anne is not well enough to … well, I do not wish to be indelicate, but can she provide an heir for Pemberley and Rosings, given that her health is poor?”

The lady’s eyes bulged unbecomingly, and she said, “Of course she can! Of course! It is no great task to bear a child!”

Richard bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to remain expressionless. He was inclined to take his aunt to task – while a man, and not privy to the struggles of females, he was well aware that death in childbirth was all too common. It was exasperating that Catherine de Bourgh was so indifferent to her only child’s best interests. However, under the circumstances, he needed to pursue another avenue to assist his cousin.

“I quite agree with you that Anne is well enough to become the mistress of Pemberley and Rosings,” he said truthfully, “but Darcy only sees her here, you know. He thinks she cannot thrive in Town, and he expects his wife to assist Georgiana when it is time for her to be launched into Society.”

“That is hardly necessary! Lady Matlock can do that!”

Richard shook his head gravely. “I am certain my mother would be delighted to host Georgiana, but Darcy has expressed his desire that he wed a lady who could perform such duties for his sister. You know that he takes his responsibilities for her seriously.”

Lady Catherine had managed to remain seated for two full minutes, and now she leaped to her feet again and began pacing. “I will journey to Darcy House on the morrow and insist that he come here, now, and formally engage himself to Anne.”

“Do not be ridiculous. You have no power over Darcy, and he will not change his mind on this matter. You may be able to brow beat your daughter and her companion and your underlings, but Darcy is the master of Pemberley and his own man.”

The lady turned toward him incredulously. “How dare you, Fitzwilliam?”

Richard rose again and glared into his aunt’s eyes. “I dare because I too am my own man, and I am tired of your assumption that you can order me and Darcy around! If you wish for Anne to marry Darcy, I suggest you send my cousin to Matlock House for a few weeks. She can attend a few parties and can demonstrate to all that she is entirely capable of managing the rigors of a London Season!”

“Nonsense! Nonsense! Anne is not strong enough…”

Lady Catherine trailed away at these words and, for the first time, looked genuinely unsettled.

“If she is too weak to attend a few dinner parties, then she ought not to marry Darcy,” the colonel said, returning to the seat with the better view. “I have been observing Anne since I arrived, and I think she would do very well at Matlock House.”

“Matlock House? Whatever do you mean? I have a perfectly fine house in London…”

“Which has been shuttered for the last five years, with Holland covers over the furniture, and layers of dust on everything. If there is one thing I know about Anne, it is that she does not do well with dust. Moreover, it is quite possible there will be issues with drains and the roof; there was that storm a few years ago and Darcy recommended that you pay for repairs. As far as I know, you did not.”

Lady Catherine tossed her head, causing her cap to flutter indignantly. “I do not like Town,” she said haughtily, “and see no reason to pour money into a house which we visit only rarely.”

“I am certain my mother would be pleased enough to host Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson,” Richard replied, sitting back and turning toward the garden once more. Implicit in that statement was that Lady Catherine would not be welcome; she and Lady Matlock, both resolute women, did not enjoy one another’s company.

There was silence behind him, as he once again called up his blessings; warm sun, beautiful views, and plenty of food and drink.

“I will consider it,” Lady Catherine finally grated out.