Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 34

Anne’s Bedchamber

Matlock House

London

Three Weeks Later

Anne de Bourgh slowly turned this way and that before her mirror and said, “I think this will do well enough.”

“You look very pretty, Miss,” Joanna, Anne’s personal maid, said with a bob of her head.

Anne smiled in appreciation and turned to study her reflection again. Her evening gown was composed of a pink silk with a French gauze overdress. The sleeves were short and puffed, and the slip was hemmed with lace on the bottom. It was an expensive garment in spite of its relative simplicity, and Anne felt a little guilty that her uncle and aunt had purchased it for her, especially since she had brought plenty of garments to London.

The problem, of course, was that all of Anne’s clothing had been ordered by Lady Catherine, whose own taste was very different from that of the countess of Matlock. Indeed, Lady Matlock had looked genuinely horrified when confronted with Anne’s plethora of elaborate costumes, with their endless ruffles and lace and satin bows. She had escorted her niece to her favorite dressmaker and ordered a number of outfits, based on both the latest fashions and on Anne’s coloring. The simpler dresses were more flattering, more elegant, and more comfortable. Anne was very pleased.

“Thank you, Joanna,” she said to her maid. “Can you arrange my hair?”

“Of course, Miss de Bourgh!”

/

The Dining Room

Matlock House

Later

Anne looked down the long table with pleasure. While her aunt had arranged this dinner to introduce her to friends, she was pleased to note that she already knew at least half of the guests.

Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were present with Elizabeth Bennet, who was seated next to Mr. Darcy. Lady Matlock had originally protested Darcy’s position next to Miss Bennet at the table, but the man had insisted.

While the Matlocks were openly dubious about Miss Bennet, Anne thought she was wonderful, partly because Elizabeth would make Darcy an excellent wife and partly because Lady Catherine would stop harping about Anne’s supposed engagement to Darcy when he was finally married.

Miss Storey, Lady Audrey Galpin, and the two Misses St. John were here as well. They were not part of the Matlocks’ usual social circle, but Anne found them all enjoyable conversationalists and had asked her aunt to invite them as a leaven to the mix of high-born, dull young men who looked on her only as a conquest. She, as the heiress of Rosings, was a most tantalizing prize, regardless of her advanced years and lack of beauty. She was well aware that in spite of her far more flattering clothing and improved looks due to her improved health, she did not hold a candle to either Mrs. Bingley or Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

“Are you enjoying your time in Town, Miss de Bourgh?”

Anne turned and smiled at Mr. Benjamin Storey, who had been seated at her right.

“I am, very much,” she said. “It is, as you doubtless know, my first Season in Town, and it has been quite wonderful.”

“I am glad. I enjoy both the country and the city, though by this time of year, I am ready to return to our family estate. Will you return to Kent soon?”

“Not while my mother is living there,” Anne replied and then blushed in embarrassment at her own cheekiness. That was hardly a courteous thing to say to a near stranger.

“Miss de Bourgh,” Mr. Storey said, leaning a little closer, “I will confess that I have met your mother twice, and she absolutely intimidated and overwhelmed me both times. I fear I would be addicted to strong drink if I were forced to live with her.”

She laughed and lifted her glass toward him. He looked startled and lifted his own glass in return, and she said, “A toast to my mother staying in Kent!”

“Hear, hear,” Storey replied with a grin.

They both drank down their wine and fell to discussing a book they had both read recently. Anne found her partner to be a most enjoyable conversationalist; indeed, the last few months had been some of the happiest of her life. She would, of course, eventually have to return to Kent and deal with her difficult mother, but for now she would enjoy good company and good food.

/

Elizabeth’s Bedchamber

Bingley’s Rented House

Half Moon Street

Midnight

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said to the maid, who bobbed her head and retreated out of the room. Elizabeth pulled her night robe close around her and wandered over to stare out the window. It was a warm night, and no fire was necessary.

She sat down on the window seat, leaned against the cushion, and closed her eyes. In the early days of her time in London, she had been startled by the many noises from the street outside; the calls for sedan chairs, and the watchmen making their rounds, and the rumbling of vehicles. It was louder than Gracechurch Street in Cheapside, where the Gardiners lived.

Now Elizabeth was more or less used to the noise and slept soundly, though that may partly be because of her often tiring days. She was grateful that the dinner at Matlock House had ended at a reasonable hour, unlike the private balls, which usually ended in the wee hours of the morning. Try as she might, she simply could not manage to sleep until noon, even when it meant a short night’s sleep.

There was a soft tap at her door.

“Come in,” she called and was unsurprised when Jane entered the room bearing a candle in her hand.

“Good,” Jane said. “You are not in bed yet.”

“Not yet,” Elizabeth agreed, “though soon. I was merely thinking about the evening. But do sit down, dear one.”

Jane placed her candle onto a handy table and sat down, and for a minute, silence reigned.

“Lizzy?”

“Yes, Jane?”

“What do you think about Mr. Darcy?”

Elizabeth chuckled and reached forward to pat her sister’s hands. “I knew you would ask me that.”

“I apologize if you do not wish to speak of it, but Charles…”

“No, no, it is entirely all right,” she said hastily. “The truth is that, as usual, I had a wonderful time speaking with him this evening. He is a very intelligent man. He is also, in spite of my first impressions of him, kind and courteous, at least when he wants to be. I do like him very much, Jane. I might even love him.”

Jane’s face was partially shadowed, but Elizabeth could see her sister’s happy grin. “Really?”

“I might love him,” Elizabeth said again.

Jane nodded. “I understand, my dear, and I would never urge you to accept Mr. Darcy’s offer unless you were absolutely confident. I do think that he is a good man. Charles has only good things to say about him, if that matters at all.”

“It does, of course.”

Jane stood up and said, “Well, we will wait impatiently to see the end of this peculiar courtship.”

“Thank you, Jane. Your willingness to let me stay here, especially so soon after your marriage…”

“We both adore having you here,” Jane interrupted. “Now go to sleep, Lizzy!”

“Good night,” Elizabeth replied, grinning at her sister’s stern tone.

“Good night.

/

St. James Park

Two weeks later

Noon

Elizabeth Bennet strolled down the pressed dirt path, her gloved hand resting on the arm of Fitzwilliam Darcy as they wandered together through St. James Park. The weather was excellent; it was slightly hot, but the heat was offset by a gentle breeze that teased her hair and the short sleeves on her muslin dress. The sky was blue and clear, and she held a parasol in order to protect herself from the sun’s rays.

They not been there over long. Mr. Darcy had brought his phaeton just after noon to collect her, and the two of them had ridden down to the park with a groomsman in attendance. It was early afternoon now, and the park was not crowded, with only a few small parties about, which Elizabeth was very grateful for. Neither she nor Darcy were fond of the crowds at the Promenade, both preferring to enjoy the sights with few people to interrupt their view.

And what a sight it was! The park boasted gentle hills coated in emerald grass, with copses of oaks whose green leaves shivered in the cool breeze. Pelicans coasted over the water which snaked its way through the park, every ripple and wave sparkling under the afternoon sun. Elizabeth found herself remembering her girlhood, when she climbed trees and splashed through ponds and creeks.

She chanced a look up at Mr. Darcy, who was admiring their surroundings just as she was, though his expression was solemn. The previous autumn, she had assumed such gravity indicated disapproval, but now she knew better. He was, due to his myriad responsibilities, often distracted by the needs of his estate, and his sister, and rather than faulting him for it, she honored him for his thoughtful diligence. He was a steady man, along with being intelligent, kind, generous, and honorable. It would be no hardship to be tied to such a man.

Elizabeth was well aware that Darcy’s courtship of her was no secret from the ton, between their many shared dances, and their outings to parks and museums and cathedrals, and the dinners that they had enjoyed at various great houses. She had encountered more than a few single young ladies who subtly expressed their distaste for her as a mere country gentleman’s daughter.

She was not bothered by the whispering. She had the support of not only Jane and Mr. Bingley, and Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, but also her friends Miss Storey and Lady Audrey and the sisters St. John. She was surrounded by those who did not pressure her to accept her admirer, while also encouraging her that she would make an excellent mistress of Pemberley.

It had been at least a few days since she had accepted that the master of Pemberley was the perfect man for her. They were intellectually compatible, they enjoyed one another’s company, and most importantly of all, she both respected and loved him. She wanted to marry him. She wanted to become Mrs. Darcy.

“Shall we sit down under that tree, Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked, breaking into her thoughts. She turned at his gesture and smiled at the sight of a wooden bench placed under a spreading oak, which faced out toward the lake. She smiled again at the sight of birds floating on the placid waters, their beaks occasionally dipping under the surface, likely in search of food.

“The view is in every way delightful,” she remarked.

“It is,” Darcy replied, and it took her a few seconds to observe, out of the corner of her eyes, that he was looking not at the lake, but at her.

She chuckled and turned to look at him and found her heart beating faster at the expression on his face. It was one of longing, and yes, adoration, and she reached out suddenly and took his gloved hands in her own.

“Mr. Darcy?”

He glanced down at their entwined hands, his fingers tightening, and then looked up with trepidation. “Yes, Miss Bennet?”

“Do you still wish to marry me?”

He appeared startled and then nodded quickly. “With all my heart.”

Elizabeth’s lips curled up, and she said, “Well, in that case, Mr. Darcy, I think you have a question to ask me.”

He was a clever man, but this apparently flummoxed him sufficiently that he merely stared at her in surprise for a full thirty seconds. Then, before her eyes, his expression changed from blank to overjoyed, and he inclined toward her, his face flushed, his eyes glowing with joy.

“Miss Bennet, I love you with all of my heart. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“I will, Mr. Darcy,” she replied.

He stared at her in wonder, as if incredulous at his good fortune, and Elizabeth hesitantly, daringly, leaned forward to kiss him on the lips.

It was all of a few seconds, that kiss, but it was a powerful one, and when they parted, it left a longing for more.

“Elizabeth,” Darcy said and lifted her gloved hand to kiss them gently. “Thank you. You have made me the happiest of men.”

“And I am the happiest of women,” she replied. “I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I can hardly believe my good fortune to have attracted the attentions of such a kind, caring and diligent man. Now, if you do not mind, let us return home to share our wonderful news with Jane and Charles – I must tell someone before I burst, and I know they have been eagerly waiting for this day!”

/

The Bingleys’ Hired House

Half Moon Street

Half an Hour Later

Elizabeth stepped into the drawing room, arm in arm with Darcy, and looked at her sister and her husband, who were standing by the window, speaking in hushed tones, with Mr. Bingley holding a piece of paper in his hand, on which were multiple lines of ink.

She felt a little shy announcing their engagement, but she could scarcely contain her happiness. Jane and Charles had never pressured her to accept Darcy’s offer, but Bingley and Darcy had been good friends long before either man had ever met the Bennets. She knew the Bingleys would be delighted.

At this moment, the Bingleys turned toward them, and Elizabeth smiled, though her joy shifted to concern at the wrinkled brows of both her sister and her husband.

“What is the matter, Jane?” she demanded, releasing Darcy’s arm and stepping forward. Her eye fell on the letter in Charles’s hand and she said, “Is it a letter? Is something wrong at Longbourn?”

“No,” Jane replied instantly. “No, nothing is wrong, per se, though we are mightily confused and, yes, perturbed.”

“Someone has paid off Wickham’s debts,” Bingley explained.

Darcy and Elizabeth both goggled for a moment, and then the gentleman demanded, “What?”

“See for yourself,” Bingley replied, handing over the piece of paper.

Elizabeth, peering over her fiancé’s arm, frowned in confusion, and yes, dismay. The document did indeed declare that a Mr. Adair, a solicitor, had, two days previously, paid off Wickham’s debts and freed the man in question from Marshalsea.

“I also received a draft for Hoare’s Bank,” Bingley continued, a crease between his eyes, “for the sum of eight and fifty pounds, the sum of the debts I bought up in Meryton on Wickham’s behalf.”

Darcy and Elizabeth gazed at one another, and she reached out and took his hands in her own. “I do not like it.”

“Nor do I,” Darcy agreed.

“I do like this, however,” Jane said suddenly and cheerily, causing the twosome to turn toward her. Jane’s eyes were fixed on the intertwined hands of Darcy and Elizabeth, and Elizabeth found herself blushing.

“We are engaged!” she said simply and brightly.

This provoked a cry of delight from Mrs. Bingley, and a yelp of enthusiasm from Bingley himself, and a moment later, Elizabeth was in her sister’s embrace, and Bingley was clapping Darcy heartily on the back.

“Congratulations!” Bingley exclaimed. “I am so very happy for you!”

“And we also say it is about time!” Jane chimed in and laughed. Elizabeth looked at her with great affection. It was obvious that her elder sister was thriving in her marriage. Jane had always been a serene soul, but with the security of husband and home, and away from the exhausting and frenetic atmosphere of Longbourn, Jane had started to display a surprising streak of cheeky humor.

“I agree,” Darcy said, and there was such joy in his eyes, such ardent adoration, that Elizabeth was suddenly short of breath.

“I needed time to decide,” she said. “But now I know, with all my heart and mind and soul, that we belong together.”

“This deserves a celebration,” Bingley declared. “Shall we go to the Clarendon, perhaps?”

Elizabeth perked up. The Clarendon was known for its truly excellent dinners, and an evening there would be a charming way to celebrate their upcoming wedding. A moment later, her eye fell on the paper again regarding Wickham and his debts.

“What about that?” she asked, gesturing.

“We wait until tomorrow,” Darcy declared, smiling down into her face. “We will uncover this mystery in time, but for now, we should celebrate.”

/

Hertfordshire

The Next Afternoon

The atmosphere inside the carriage was, if possible, even more delightful than that outside. Darcy could not keep his eyes off of his darling Elizabeth, whose usual beauty was enhanced by her obvious pleasure in their new engagement. They had, along with the Bingleys, enjoyed a marvelous dinner at the Clarendon the previous evening, during which they had decided to make the short journey to Longbourn to ask for Mr. Bennet’s blessing.

“I realize that we did not discuss where you wish to marry, Elizabeth,” Darcy said, relishing the privilege of using her Christian name. “Am I correct that you would prefer to wed in Meryton?”

Elizabeth looked momentarily startled and then, after cogitation, said, “I suppose I do, yes, so that my family can be present, especially given that my father dislikes London. Would you mind marrying here?”

“I would marry you on the moon if that were both preferable and possible,” Darcy said dramatically, which provoked Elizabeth to laugh and look outside, where, most fortunately, a partial moon was riding high in the blue skies.

“That is very romantic, delightfully so,” she teased, “though I suspect that the moon is not overly populated with churches and clergymen.”

Darcy looked out the window and his expression grew thoughtful. “I have often wondered about the moon; we know so little about it.”

“Telescopes continue to improve,” his fiancée remarked. “Perhaps in our lifetime, we will be able to see the surface of our neighbor with great clarity.”

This provoked a surprisingly scholarly discussion regarding the moon and the sun and astronomy in general, and Darcy found himself, once again, amazed at Elizabeth’s knowledge and intelligence. He also was amazed at his prior stupidity. How could he have even considered wedding a vapid lady of the ton when his perfect lady had, providentially, been introduced into his life?

The carriage halted, and Darcy looked out to see that they had arrived at Longbourn. He smiled at Elizabeth, who returned his smile, and a moment later, a servant opened the door. He jumped out onto the gravel driveway and turned to assist Elizabeth down. Together, they walked arm in arm up the stone steps to the front door. Elizabeth turned the knob and opened it, and stepped in with Darcy in tow.

The vestibule was empty, which was no particular surprise directly before dinner. The family was likely upstairs dressing, and given that it was not the hour for visitors, Mr. Stewart was probably polishing silver or something of the like.

“Father is probably still in his library,” Elizabeth commented and boldly took Darcy’s hand in hers, to his very great pleasure. She drew him down a corridor toward the library, only to halt at the open door of the drawing room which was, most unexpectedly, full of familiar people, including her parents, Kitty, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, and Sir William Lucas. How very peculiar!

“But it is just not like Mary in the least!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed and then spied her second daughter in the doorway.

“Lizzy!” the matron shrieked. “Oh Lizzy, thank God you are here! Do you have news?”

Elizabeth did have news, of course, but based on the alarm on the faces of the Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and the crinkled brow of Sir William, her engagement to Mr. Darcy was not the revelation they had in mind.

“What is wrong, Mrs. Bennet?” Darcy asked, his deep voice so calm, so firm, that Elizabeth was insensibly cheered.

“Mr. Darcy?” the woman replied in a bewildered tone, “what are you doing here?”

A moment later, she shook her head and said, “It matters not. Mary has disappeared!”