Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 31

Darcy House

Four o’clock in the afternoon

Fitzwilliam Darcy paused at the window to gaze out at the afternoon sun. The sun was beginning to dip on the horizon, which meant that his guests would begin to arrive in the next couple of hours. It was to be a small event, since he, as the host, was not overly fond of large parties. Even so, he was agitated, and he began to pace up and down the drawing room carpet once more.

Darcy had invited his close friends and relations to dine with him tonight. This included, of course, Mr. Bingley and his wife, along with Elizabeth Bennet. He had also invited the Earl and Countess of Matlock, his aunt and uncle, their son, Richard Fitzwilliam, who had managed to secure a night away from his duties. Anne de Bourgh and her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, would be in attendance also, as would, of course, his sister and Mrs. Annesley.

At the moment, Georgiana was sitting in a comfortable, plush chair with a book open in her lap.

“Brother, you will wear a hole in the carpet,” Georgiana said, and Darcy stopped in his tracks and turned to observe the amusement on his sister’s face.

He looked down at his own booted feet, and then at the carpet, which was an expensive, lustrous, and Persian.

“I see no holes,” he said with a grin, walked over to sit down next to his sister, and continued, “I am worried about tonight’s dinner.”

“Why?” Georgiana asked simply.

He sighed deeply and took her bare hand in his own. “I love Elizabeth Bennet with all my heart. She does not love me in return, though she has said that our friendship is deepening and that she likes me more every day. I am merely concerned that, well, our aunt and uncle will almost certainly not be pleased with our unofficial courtship.”

He was surprised when Georgiana tightened her grip on his own, and he looked down into her youthful face.

“Brother, you are your own man,” she said. “Our aunt and uncle cannot make you do anything. Besides, they are kind people; I am certain they wish for you to be happy!”

“I believe they do wish me to be happy,” Darcy agreed. “But even a month ago, I thought that the road to happiness in marriage was tied into connections and societal position. I was a fool.”

“You most certainly are not!” Georgiana said indignantly.

He smiled at her and leaned over to kiss her on the head. “You are a very kind sister. Thank you. But the truth is that the dictates of responsibility, of society, have been inculcated in my very bones for so long that I thought it my duty to marry high indeed, for your sake and for the sake of our name. I did eventually come to my senses when I realized that it would be better to wed a lady of intelligence, vibrancy, and kindness, who would love you as a sister, as opposed to a vapid society woman. But I understand that my epiphany is not likely to garner much support from the Matlocks, who, while they like one another well enough, definitely married for connections instead of genuine love.”

“But surely, once they meet Elizabeth, they will realize that she is your perfect wife,” Georgiana said.

He grimaced and blew out a breath. “I do not know whether they will or not, but you are correct, of course, that I am my own man. Nor is Elizabeth likely to be intimidated in the least by our august relations.”

“And Richard and I will help as much as we can,” his sister declared.

“Thank you.”

/

Drawing Room

An Hour Later

The time of the dinner was approaching, and about half of Darcy’s expected guests had already arrived. Miss Elizabeth had arrived with the Bingleys not long before, and they were gathered in the drawing room while they waited for the Matlock party to join them. The Bingleys were discussing a matter of their own pertaining to Netherfield, and Georgiana’s companion, Mrs. Annesley, was sitting in a high-backed chair with her attention set on her knitting.

Elizabeth stood, at present, at one of the large, paneled windows, gazing out over the garden beyond. Her face and form were illuminated by the distant sunset, setting a warm glow to her cheeks as she admired the rose garden. Georgiana stood just beside her, and Darcy, who waited a few feet behind, enjoying the sight of the two most important women talking to one another.

“It is lovely,” Elizabeth said, gazing raptly out at the garden behind Darcy House.

“It is,” Georgiana said and then added shyly, “though I find the gardens at Pemberley to be even more beautiful. My mother, Lady Anne, arranged for an entire section of the formal gardens to be planted in roses, and they have been maintained since her death.

“It is something to remember her by?” Elizabeth suggested, turning a sympathetic look on the younger woman.

“Precisely! I do not remember her well, as I was small when she passed on, but yes, when I look over those gardens, I know she must have loved beauty.”

“She did,” Darcy confirmed, stepping closer. “I think some families plant flowers because they wish to show off to the world. Our mother enjoyed flowers because they were lovely. I remember playing in the rose garden with my mother sitting on a bench nearby to make certain that I did not fall into the stream.”

Elizabeth turned a pleased look on Darcy and said, “It sounds as if your mother loved spending time with you.”

“She did, though there was invariably a nursemaid in attendance too. I daresay it is hard to fathom, but I was a reckless child in many ways, always wanting to climb trees and rock walls, and my mother was never strong.”

Elizabeth nodded and said, “I can well imagine that she needed assistance in keeping you safe. I was similar; my mother used to say that I would be the death of her, as I was fearless to the point of idiocy. As a young child, I once jumped into a pond without being able to swim and am grateful that Hannah, my nursemaid, was standing close and leaped in to rescue me. Jane, of course, was a perfect child and never came home with torn skirts and dirt on her face!”

Jane, who was now seated next to her husband on a nearby loveseat, chuckled and said, “I think it can safely be said that I was more interested in my own comfort than anything else. I was always aware that falling out of a tree would hurt and jumping into a pond would be cold and muddy and unpleasant.”

“I believe it is common that siblings vary considerably,” Georgiana remarked, just as the door to the drawing room opened, and Darcy’s butler announced the party from Matlock House.

The ensuing round of introductions was carried out with courtesy, if not enthusiasm, on the part of the Earl and Countess of Matlock, though Richard Fitzwilliam and Anne de Bourgh displayed considerable enthusiasm in meeting the lady who had caught Darcy’s interest.

As was usual, Darcy was more or less silent, as Richard, Bingley, and Elizabeth, all loquacious beings, kept the conversation light and amusing. Darcy found himself prey to a mixture of emotions; relief that the atmosphere was not overly strained, but also envious of both Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Why did he have to be so awkward in company? What hope did he have of winning the bright jewel who was Elizabeth Bennet when he stood tongue tied like a fool?

“Brother, you are scowling,” a soft voice whispered.

He turned away from the lively conversation to see Georgiana gazing at him worriedly, and he forced himself to smile a little.

“I am sorry,” he murmured back. “I want this meeting between Miss Bennet and the Fitzwilliams to go well.”

“I believe it will,” his sister said reassuringly. “But even if it does not, our relatives have no power over you. Please do not worry.”

This was sensible but difficult advice, and Darcy was relieved when the door opened and the butler announced dinner. Darcy took his aunt’s arm, while Georgiana, who was acting as hostess, blushed and took her uncle’s arm. Richard escorted Jane and Elizabeth into the dining room, while Bingley gallantly offered his arms to Anne and Mrs. Annesley.

Darcy had thought long and hard about how best to manage this dinner. On the one hand, he did not wish for Elizabeth to endure an entire dinner being suspiciously interviewed by the Matlocks. On the other, the whole point of this exercise was for Elizabeth to speak with the earl and countess.

In the end, he decided to have Elizabeth seated between himself and the earl, while Lady Matlock sat at the foot of the table with Jane Bingley and Anne on either side of her. After dinner, the ladies would leave for the drawing room, which would permit the older woman to speak to Elizabeth at her leisure.

The servants entered with various dishes, and to Darcy’s relief, conversation soon flourished between those seated side by side at the table. While Anne spoke softly with Georgiana, Jane Bingley chatted with Lady Matlock, who did not look approving, but neither did she look forbidding.

“So, Miss Bennet, you have never been to London before?” Lord Matlock asked, which drew Darcy’s attention toward his love.

“I have, many times,” Elizabeth replied and took a sip of wine before continuing, “But I have never taken part in a Season. Instead, I have spent many happy weeks with my uncle and aunt in Cheapside.”

Matlock’s thick brows lowered at these words, and then the earl shot a challenging look at his nephew. “Cheapside? May I ask about your uncle? Is he a gentleman?”

“He is not,” Elizabeth replied with majestic calm. “He is a man of trade, and his home on Gracechurch Street is within sight of his warehouses. He is a good man, as is his wife, and I esteem and love them.”

Lord Matlock coughed, took a drink of wine, and said, “It is, of course, estimable that you love your uncle, but I do not face with equanimity the idea of my own nephew marrying a woman with such close ties to trade.”

Darcy’s hands clenched and his jaw set.

“Lord Matlock,” he began and then trailed away as Elizabeth turned her face toward him and smiled that lovely, beguiling smile. There was no hint of distress on her face, her eyes sparkling with their usual magic, and he relaxed.

“Lord Matlock,” she said, “it is obvious that Mr. Darcy is a most exceptional gentleman. He is intelligent, wealthy, handsome, and entirely capable of marrying a lady of the nobility, if he cared to. The question, of course, is what your nephew wants, and what I want. There are some who are pleased to wed for connections and fortune, but neither Mr. Darcy nor I are interested in such a match.”

Matlock looked startled, took a gulp of wine, and demanded, “Are you saying … surely you are not saying that if my nephew offered for you, that you would dream of refusing?”

Elizabeth glanced at her suitor and nodded, and Darcy said, “I have made it plain that I would marry Miss Bennet tomorrow if she were to accept me. Our relationship started off with misunderstanding and, most regrettably, rude behavior on my part, and I have yet to win Miss Bennet’s heart.”

Matlock stared at his nephew, then at Elizabeth, and he shook his head. “It is absurd that a woman of your situation in life would even consider turning down my nephew. Have you been to Pemberley? Do you have any idea what you are disdaining?”

“It is not disdain, not in the least,” Elizabeth said, and now there was an undercurrent of steel in her well-modulated voice. “I am confident that Mr. Darcy and I both desire a relationship of true companionship and admiration. Mr. Darcy does not wish to wed a lady who cares only for his money, and I am perfectly content to remain single rather than marry a man whom I do not respect and love. It is quite simple, really.”

Matlock lifted his wine glass again, and now his hand was shaking slightly. “I see.”

But it was not clear that he did.

/

Drawing Room

Darcy House

Later

The dinner had concluded nearly an hour ago now, and the Bingleys and Elizabeth had departed not long after, taking their carriage back to their rented house, while Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley had gone above stairs. Those who remained consisted of Darcy and his sister, their cousin Richard Fitzwilliam, the earl and countess of Matlock, Anne de Bourgh, and her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson.

Darcy and his guests were gathered in the drawing room to enjoy the warmth from the fire. The crackling flames cast an orange glow over the otherwise dim room, supplemented by clusters of candles here and there.

“She is a most extraordinary young woman,” Lady Matlock said from her seat near the fire, “though I confess that I wonder at her sense in refusing you, Darcy.”

Darcy winced at these words and said, “She has not refused me. We are in the midst of a courtship. That is all.”

“I think she is lovely,” Anne de Bourgh remarked, pulling her shawl closer to her. She too had taken a chair close to the flames, and she reached out her hands to warm them.

“She is quite handsome,” Lady Matlock agreed, “though not as lovely as Mrs. Bingley.”

“I was speaking more of her character than her physical appearance,” Anne said, “but she is beautiful. I do not pretend to know Miss Bennet well, but it was obvious from our time after supper that she is clever and lively. If Darcy thinks she is the perfect bride for him, then I am confident she is.”

Lord Matlock, who was standing a few feet away from his wife, shook his head and said, “As estimable a young woman as she is, I do not think she is at all appropriate for Darcy. She has an uncle in trade, and her mother is the daughter of a solicitor!”

“My brother is his own man,” Georgiana piped up, to the shock and gratitude of Darcy, who smiled at her.

“My dear,” Lady Matlock said, turning a fond look on her younger niece, “You cannot be expected to understand all that is involved in the marriage of the master of Pemberley!”

She turned to Darcy and continued, “I confess to significant surprise that you, of all men, would fall in love with a pretty face and a charming disposition. But Darcy, I beg you to think long and hard about this decision before you offer officially for the lady.”

“I assure you that I have thought long and hard,” Darcy said drily. “Indeed, as I told Miss Bennet on our recent journey to the Mint, I spent the first weeks of this Season looking for a woman of standing in the haut ton who had a character similar to Miss Bennet. It was Richard who encouraged me to set aside my pride and pursue the lady I truly love and admire, who will be an excellent mistress of Pemberley and a loving sister to Georgiana.”

Lady Matlock turned a foreboding look at her second son, who merely grinned and stretched out disarming hands. “Mamma, you know that after months fighting alongside the so called common man, I am far less worried about rank and bloodlines than you are. Darcy is a peculiar man, if I do say so myself, and he requires a peculiar bride. I think Miss Bennet will be the perfect wife for him, if he can convince her to accept his offer.”

“Thank you, Richard,” Darcy said and turned a stern look on his elder relations. “Lord and Lady Matlock, I respect you as my seniors, but I am capable of making my own decisions, and I have more than sufficient wealth to care for a wife and children. I love Miss Bennet and wish to make her my wife, and I will not tolerate any attempt on your part to discourage her. The task I have set myself is hard enough given my mistakes in my early acquaintance with Miss Bennet. Now, are you willing to leave me alone in my courtship? I would not be happy at having to distance myself from you, but I will do so if necessary.”

The earl and countess exchanged glances, and Lord Matlock said, “I know an ultimatum when I hear one, and you have always been a stubborn and determined young man.”

He paused and then, with obvious effort, continued, “We will not openly interfere.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said, and bowed.