Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 27

On the Outskirts of London

The Next Morning

The carriage wheel hit an especially deep rut, jostling the passengers within and causing Caroline Bingley’s already gloomy mood to sink even further. She adjusted in her seat, a tight scowl on her face as she glared out through the carriage window. On the opposite bench, she could see Louisa and Mr. Hurst exchange a glance, but neither spoke to her.

The three of them were nearing the end of their journey back to London after spending many weeks in Yorkshire. Following the altercation between Charles and his sisters over his engagement to Jane Bennet, Mr. Hurst had taken his wife and Caroline herself to Scarborough in order to visit his ailing father. After two months, they had decided to return to London to enjoy what remained of the Season.

If it had been up to Caroline, they would have never left London in the first place. The local society in Scarborough was utterly dreary, and Caroline rarely had the opportunity to attend more than one or two events in a week. Even when she did have the chance to go out, the local gentry were nearly as dull and ill-refined as those in Meryton. Caroline could hardly wait for the liveliness and elegance of the gatherings held in Town.

Her scowl deepened, and she lifted her chin as she once again recalled her brother’s poor choice in a bride. With his charm, his money, and his handsome face, for him to have settled for a penniless, if admittedly beautiful, country gentleman’s daughter was folly of the highest degree.

Really, Caroline could not fathom his thoughtlessness. If he had leveraged his money and connections successfully, he could have wed well above his rank, which would have granted Caroline a considerably societal advantage. Imagine if she had been able to attain a relation to a viscount or baron by marriage!

It was too late now for Charles to marry the daughter of a nobleman, but Caroline would not give up her own ambitions. She had friends within the London gentry who would be able to supply her with invitations to balls and dinner parties. She was hopeful that Charles had mended his relationship with Mr. Darcy, as he was a well-respected gentleman and a prominent landowner. Perhaps he would even be taking part in the Season himself.

Caroline admired the rows of brick and mortar buildings outside the carriage window, and the smoke that rose up from factory buildings in the light rain. Perhaps it was not as classically beautiful as the countryside, but she much preferred the hustle and bustle of Town to dull, lazy Yorkshire. Unlike her brother, she could never marry a country gentleman.

Caroline was already two and twenty years of age, and she was determined to make this Season the last one that she participated in as an unmarried woman.

/

Hyde Park

Fitzwilliam Darcy skillfully pulled on the reins to slow his horses, and cast a hasty, admiring glance at Elizabeth as she tilted her head back with a smile, obviously enjoying the rays of afternoon sunlight as they danced playfully over her face. The weather was especially fine today, pleasantly cool, with puffy, white clouds dotted across the azure sky. There was a gentle breeze, not strong enough to dislodge her hat from her head, but enough to send fallen flower petals skipping and dancing over the fresh, green grass.

He was glad that Elizabeth had asked to ride in Hyde Park now instead of later in the day, as Hyde Park was generally very crowded during the evening promenade. There were a few other carriages, and several couples walking to and fro, but not so many that the beauty of the park was diminished. He was pleased, though not surprised, that the woman he loved preferred the sight of flowers and trees and waters, as opposed to seeing, and being seen, by the fashionable members of the ton who flocked to Hyde Park, not because of its great beauty, but because they wanted to show off their elegant attire.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Bennet?” he asked aloud.

“I am, very much! It is marvelous being able to see so far; your carriage is, I think, rather high for phaeton?”

“It is indeed, as indicated by its name. It is a high perch phaeton.”

“I had not realized that you were so gifted with the ribbons!” Elizabeth said, and Darcy glanced quickly at her, not certain whether she was teasing him.

She apparently understood his concern, because she immediately continued, “I have heard that these high perch phaetons require skilled driving, as they are prone to overturning.”

“I promise I will not overturn the carriage.”

“I know you will not; you are obviously very practiced in managing horses and carriage, and besides, I know you to be a sensible gentleman. I think since you are master of a great estate, and brother to an orphaned younger sister, you have a responsibility to … not live a staid life, perhaps, but nor should you act recklessly.”

“I agree entirely,” Darcy said, again pulling slightly on the reins. His gray geldings were a spirited pair and irritated by slow trots and walks. But he had no intention of rushing this drive, as it allowed him to spend time with the lady he adored.

He was pleased, at least, that Hyde Park was particularly beautiful this day, with spring flowers blooming in abundance, their blossoms of orange and yellow and pink and blue rippling gently in the cool breeze. In addition, thanks to the height of the carriage, both gentleman and lady were able to see ponds and streams glittering in the distance.

Mr. Darcy was enjoying the weather and their surroundings but his focus, beyond that which was responsible for the safety of their phaeton, was on Elizabeth. Her chestnut locks shone like the finest copper in the sun, and her sparkling eyes were far more attractive than any flower.

She was simply dressed, as she often was, in a pale yellow dress and a green shawl that was draped over her shoulders in order to shield her from the spring breeze. A simple straw hat was pinned atop her head, protecting her sweet face from the sun. She might not be as elaborately attired as many of the women who rode in Hyde Park, but Darcy suspected that, if she were, it would only serve to mask her natural beauty.

Darcy himself was well dressed, as he would be satisfied with nothing less in the presence of his beloved Elizabeth. He was dressed in a pair of black breeches, along with riding boots and a deep green waistcoat. He always took the time to make himself presentable in polite company, particularly around those whom he liked, but he was no Beau Brummell; he had far too many responsibilities to spend hours on dressing every day!

“I have never ridden in Hyde Park before,” Elizabeth remarked, her cheeks pleasingly flushed with joy. “I have walked here, but there is a special joy in observing the scenery from this vantage point.”

He smiled at her and said, “I am pleased to have this privilege. I wondered if you had already ridden out with Lord Montcalm or Mr. Storey.”

His tone was, he thought, studiously casual, but Elizabeth was not fooled. “I like both gentlemen, Mr. Darcy, but am confident that neither is considering me as a possible bride.”

Darcy felt something in his chest ease, but he could not help but ask, “Why would they not?”

“I am poor,” she replied in a composed tone, “and I understand that both Lord Montcalm and Mr. Storey wish to marry at least partly for money. Moreover, I do not have the sort of connections which would allow a gentleman or member of the nobility to set aside my lack of dowry. The wonder is that you are willing to ignore such considerations; with your wealth and position, you could reach very high indeed.”

“I could, but I love you,” he said simply.

Elizabeth blushed and looked away before turning back with an uncertain look on her face.

“May I ask,” she began and then stopped.

“Please, ask anything you like.”

She turned to gaze into his eyes and said, “What of your family, Mr. Darcy? What of Miss Darcy, and your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and your uncle the earl? Would they truly be at peace if you married a woman of no particular importance in the world?”

He felt a surge of ire at these words. How dare she denigrate herself in such a way? But looking into her clear eyes, and observing her calm expression, he realized she was not distressed at such a description of herself. She was merely expressing the opinion of the high and mighty and was not upset in the least.

Indeed, one of the reasons he had fallen in love with Elizabeth was that she was willing to be herself – she did not alter her habits or her interests to please those considered higher than herself.

“My sister wishes for me to be happy,” he said, turning his attention back to the horses, who continued to trot happily down Rotten Row, their manes streaming in the wind. “My cousins Richard Fitzwilliam and Anne de Bourgh also wish me to be happy, and as for my…”

“Miss de Bourgh?” Elizabeth interrupted and then flushed. “I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt you.”

“That is quite all right. What do you know about my Cousin Anne?”

“I understand from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who is, as you know, the rector of Hunsford in Kent, that you and she are engaged.”

Darcy grimaced and shook his head. “We are not, and never have been, engaged. Indeed, my Cousin Anne is in London even now, guest of the Countess of Matlock, and has made it plain that she has no interest in marrying me, despite her mother’s insistence.”

“What were you going to say before I so rudely interrupted you?”

Darcy pulled the horses to a walk and turned to look at her. “I expect that my Uncle Matlock will be displeased, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh will be outraged. I do not care. Most men of the upper classes are more concerned about wealth and connections than about true admiration and respect. Before I met you, I had accepted this way of thinking as well, but I have realized I the idiocy of such a perspective. My parents were blessed with a happy marriage, one based on genuine affection, and I want the same. I want to be in love with my wife, and I want her to be in love with me.”

This was said with grave and charming simplicity, and Elizabeth smiled and said, “Thank you. I confess I was a trifle perturbed that Lady Catherine and Anne de Bourgh would appear on my door one of these days, ready to scream at me for tempting you away from your duty.”

“There is no fear that my cousin would do such a thing, but my aunt’s opinion of her own desires is so high that she is capable of that and more!” Darcy said. “However, she is at Rosings, and rarely leaves her personal kingdom, so you are safe enough from her ire.”