The Heir and Spare (Jane Austen Adaptations)

8. Arthur Darcy

Chapter 8

Arthur Darcy

T he next day, a footman delivered the mail to everyone on the back verandah. A surprising amount of people were receiving correspondence at the party. Arthur’s was from Georgiana, which was to be expected. She often wrote to him no matter where he was, for which he was grateful. It had not been easy to be her guardian—not because she herself was difficult but because he didn’t know the first thing about being a guardian. And now that she was mostly of age and become an interest to so many, he felt a greater responsibility. She wrote to Fitz as well, but for some reason the brunt of the harder decisions and the care fell more squarely on his shoulders. As with everything.

Miss Elizabeth also received mail; looked to be two letters. But not Miss Mary. She stood and left to the gardens, just off the steps of the verandah. When Lord Perceval moved to follow her, Darcy pocketed his letters and followed them both.

Miss Elizabeth stepped up to his side. “I can’t help but wonder at your interest in the gardens at this very moment.”

“Oh, I was…”

Her expression did not bode well for her reception to anything he said. She had the same suspicion he’d seen on her face earlier.

“I am offering myself as a chaperone of sorts for Miss Mary, if you must know.”

“And do you not think me capable?”

“Of course you are. I would assume. Though I noticed you also received mail and might wish to peruse it in quiet. I was merely offering my services in a most unobtrusive manner. I hoped you would not notice except to think that Mary would be quite taken care of?”

Her eyes softened and she nodded. “I am most grateful. There is an urgent nature about the hand of my sister, so I wish to see that all is well.”

He dipped his head. “Please. I have this well in hand. I am quite adept at frustrating the advances of young men who would wish a bit more intimate setting with young ladies.”

Miss Elizabeth watched him curiously but then nodded. “Thank you. I’ll join you momentarily.” She situated herself on a bench in the sun looking so at ease and so inviting he almost did not follow Miss Mary but her laughter soon motivated him to give the two a bit of company.

They grew quiet and so he picked up his pace through the gardens and at last stumbled into a walled-in garden of sorts, surrounded by hedgerows, with a fountain in the center. Miss Mary was standing close to Lord Perceval, her chin upturned, and the wastrel looked as though he was actually contemplating making the most of his opportunity.

With a not too subtle throat clearing from Darcy, Lord Perceval created some space between he and Miss Mary and offered her his arm. They murmured something together and then began a slow pace, walking side by side. Darcy made himself interested in that particular fountain and wondered about the rose arbor that he could see rising up above the hedgerow on the other side of the garden.

The fountain spread a thin mist in the air and the smell of the roses drifted to him in such a pleasant subtle way, he wished for a bit of company himself. Giggling from behind him was welcome, but when he turned there was no one in the immediate garden. They must have been walking by in another of the sequestered spaces. Lord Shackley had a beautiful situation. Arthur had something similar in Pemberley, but the whole property tended to be less structured and more wild. Which his father had preferred. But Darcy thought there might be space for a sculpture garden and some hedgerows. He corrected his thoughts. His new property would have space for something like that. He made some mental notes of what to ask the gardeners to plant.

At times Darcy was fine with leaving Pemberley. He was not the heir. He’d known that since birth. But all his efforts over the course of his life had certainly grown his attachment and feelings about how things were done at Pemberley. And to see his brother so seldomly engaged in any of the decision-making was of course a concern to Arthur.

He had sent feelers out to determine if there were any properties available for sale or even land without any structures yet on it. Luckily his investments had grown, and his small estate from his mother was also profitable. There was much he could do, and he best be about giving greater attention to such things. A working estate with current tenants would be the ideal choice. And he’d enjoy being close to Pemberley, but then would he end up running two estates, his brother leaving all the work to him?

The idea of creating a legacy was appealing. To think that he could begin what his ancestor Darcy had; to gift something of worth to his future generations that he himself had created. His breath filled his chest along with a huge sense of satisfaction.

A soft hand rested on his arm. Her entrance had been so gentle, so natural that he hadn’t realized Miss Elizabeth’s approach. As gently as her entrance, he recognized that she seemed to fit in with his plans. She matched the sense of pride and hope for his future generations. He could not place why she seemed to so seamlessly blend in with his direction, but she did.

The eyes turned up to his face were smiling as she tipped her head toward Miss Mary. “They seem happy,” she whispered.

He couldn’t help but feel a touch of concern, but he nodded. “They do indeed. I haven’t yet conversed with them but they have been doing enough of that on their own.”

Their heads were dipped together in that moment, and Miss Mary seemed intent upon Lord Perceval’s every word. Again, Darcy felt concern. What were the man’s intentions? He was not Miss Mary’s guardian or anything like it. But he couldn’t help but notice she had no one speaking for her in that way at the party. If Lord Perceval was about a small flirtation during the party only, and she would be left picking up the pieces of her heart and hope and expectations, Darcy felt he should intervene. Marked attention and then a withdrawal of such left the lady in question up for ridicule and shame. Lord Perceval, while not a rake or a cad by any stretch, had certainly shown no recent intentions of settling down. If Darcy had heard correctly, he was much sought after among the ladies of the Ton . Why would he leave all of that for the simpleness of Miss Mary? She was pretty enough naturally. She had a gentleness to her that Darcy admired. But she was not like any of the diamonds that Lord Perceval was reported to visit during a London Season. Had something occurred to sully his reputation there?

“You are displeased?” Miss Elizabeth’s hand pressed into his forearm, and her expression filled with concern.

“No. Not…necessarily. Miss Mary looks happy.” He didn’t know why he hesitated to explain Lord Perceval’s reputation. He should. Miss Elizabeth deserved to know. But at the same time, he believed in giving everyone second chances, new starts. If the man would allow himself a woman like Miss Mary, it could do everything for his life. Darcy believed in the power of a good well-suited marriage. He’d seen it in his parents and he craved it in his life.

“You are so distant in your thoughts. How were your letters from home?”

He turned his attention to the beautiful woman at his side. “I admit to not reading them yet. And yours?”

“The first one is so full of happiness and excitement from Jane that I can only think that things are well. The militia is there, and that is adding much energy in my younger sisters. Mother is pleased. Father is spending more time in the library.” She shrugged. “I think it seems like all is well. I have such high hopes for dear Jane.”

“Hopes? In what way? Jane is your elder sister is she not?”

Miss Elizabeth looked at him curiously for a moment, and he felt yet again in her presence like he was missing something rather important. But her expression cleared and she nodded. “Yes, she is elder. Although most don’t know that on first meeting. She and I are so close in age.”

“And you are dear friends, are you not?”

“Oh yes, she is my closest, most dear friend and confidante. I am truly blessed to have someone who cannot think ill of another, who is perpetually kind and wants my happiness almost as much as I do, sometimes even more than I do.”

“I, too, have such trust in my sister. Georgiana. Though she is much younger than I, barely sixteen.” He led Miss Elizabeth toward the other garden, toward the roses. He wished to see her near them, to see if she would be as entranced by the sweetness of their smell as he had been.

Lord Perceval and Miss Mary turned that direction as well.

“I feel I would learn much about you if I were to meet Georgiana.” She smiled. “Are you similar?”

“We are, in many ways. But she views me more as a guardian than a sibling, I’m afraid.”

“Are your parents not available?”

“Oh, no. They have both passed, unfortunately. She looks to me for that kind of direction now.” He paused before bringing up his brother. There was no need to explain the difference in their personalities in this instance as it might only disparage his name, which Arthur was unwilling to do. Fitz was a good person, just not ever considered the responsible one. But Miss Elizabeth could make her own opinions of his brother were they to ever meet. “She is the sweetest, most lovely person, and I have delayed her entrance in Society because I’m not certain I can help her in the ways needed. No one will be good enough, I’m afraid.” He shrugged.

But Miss Elizabeth smiled. “Oh, to have a brother like you. Though I’m not sure you’d survive all five of us Bennets out in Society at the same time.” She shook her head. “And Father seems to be avoiding the immensity of that challenge. I can see why it would be too much for any person.” She looked to Miss Mary. “This is so good for her. I’m afraid if not for moments like this, Mary is quite ignored.”

Miss Elizabeth and Darcy walked together, closer than was necessary. Her shoulder brushed against his arm more often than not. After a moment, she brought her other hand to his arm. “This is nice. I much prefer being outside in almost any weather.”

He nodded. “In that, we are in complete agreement. The last walk I took at home was in fact during a rainfall.”

She laughed. “No! I have done the same.”

“The servants.” He shook his head.

But she laughed. “Oh, I heard about it for days, everyone thinking I’d catch my death from cold.” She shrugged. “And here I am, as healthy as ever.”

“Glowing.” He reached over and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You are lovely. Outside suits you.”

She did not dip her head in modesty at the compliment but looked him full in the face. “Thank you. I must admit you surprise me. You are so different here, and so caring, attentive.” She looked as though she might say more, and Darcy would like to hear it. Why would it be a surprise? But he’d met enough of the men in the Ton to know that he was not always a fair example of his sex.

“Perhaps outside suits me as well.”

She nodded as though that explanation might suffice but probably wouldn’t.

They entered the area with the rose arbor and Miss Elizabeth’s soft gasp was gratifying to him. He was equally enthralled. The garden did not have only the one arbor but many, and bushes of many different colors and varieties. The air was filled with a soft sweetness. He breathed in. “My compliments to Lord Shackley’s gardeners. This is remarkable.”

“A work of art. Someone put their heart in here.” She reached forward and ran her fingertips along the edges of the roses. “See how well they have planned and pruned each bush.” She leaned forward to smell a lavender rose. “Mmm. Like a mixture of honey and lemons.”

She had stepped away from him to admire the roses, and he missed her closeness acutely. How had she so quickly entwined herself in his needs? Did he need her by his side? He needed to spread out his attentions if so…or perhaps he didn’t. As she walked farther long, admiring rose after rose, he could see himself happily at her side for many hours yet without wishing for a break.

She turned to him. “This one is my favorite. Have you smelled any at all? Come, you must determine a favorite.”

He smiled at the game and then dutifully smelled rose after rose in her wake. When he got near to the one she deemed a favorite, he tried to guess which. There were two options, a fiery orange and a subtle lavender. As he smelled one after another she approached and leaned forward again. “What are you doing?”

“I’m guessing which is your favorite.”

Her smile widened. “And? What is the verdict?”

He pointed to the orange. “While I see you are full of passion, I don’t think the smell is one you would prefer to inhale like you were. I’m going to guess the softer lavender?”

She rested a hand on his arm. “You are correct. I do love the orange for its passion, but I could sleep with the lavender on my pillow and wake with it on my hair and skin and be very happy indeed.” She breathed it in again, leaving Darcy with images of her lovely hair spread across a white pillow. He straightened. She was definitely doing things to him no woman had ever done.

“And can you guess mine?”

“Have you chosen?”

“I have.” He crossed his arms.

“Will you not at least give me a direction? You knew the precise location of mine.”

“Too true. It was back at the beginning. I have not found an equal to it yet.”

She tapped her lips with one finger as he realized she was wont to do when about to toy with him. “Now we shall discover your secrets.”

“My secrets?” He laughed.

“Certainly. You can tell a lot about a man by his preferred smells.” She skipped ahead and called over her shoulder. “At least I assume you can.” She began smelling the flowers in earnest at the entrance to their path. But it didn’t take long. “This one, certainly. It’s precise. Strong but not overbearing. And a touch fruity?” She cupped the rose for him to see.

“Fruity?” He shook his head. “I’m not certain fruity says much about me as a man.” His frown must have shown because Miss Elizabeth laughed.

“I did not smell fruit in that. But you are correct about the rose in question. That is my favorite.” He lifted her fingers in his hand and bowed to press his lips to the back of her hand. “Uncannily guessed.” He placed her hand back in the crook of his arm, hoping she’d stay closer now.

“I’m quite enjoying myself, you know.” Her side grin in his direction caused all kinds of interesting thumpings of his heart. He hadn’t been sure up to this moment the precise location of that vital organ but now there was no mistaking it, nor its happiness at the nearness of Miss Elizabeth.

“I’m pleased to hear it, as I’ve made it a personal goal to please you in any manner possible.”

“A personal goal? And when did you make this goal?”

“Right now.” He laughed. “When I saw your smile.” He lifted her hand to his lips again, keeping her as close as possible. “I would give a lot to keep that beauty permanently directed at me.” He tried to express his earnestness, hoped she would know he wasn’t merely saying pretty words.

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes deep windows to her hope and slight misgiving, but after a moment she nodded. “I would find your attempts welcome indeed.”

The air between them felt heavy with possibility. She gazed up into his face and somehow they were closer than moments earlier, her chin lifted, her eyes full of curiosity. He peeked a glance at her lips and their softness was nearly his undoing. “Miss Elizabeth…I?—”

A jarring and somewhat insolent voice called out to them, “Come now, Darcy, you must help us decide.” Lord Perceval, with a wicked revenge-filled gleam in his eye, approached with Miss Mary on his arm.

Touché. Darcy supposed he deserved the interruption since he’d done the same to Lord Perceval just minutes earlier. But he didn’t like it any better for knowing he might deserve it. And his intentions with Miss Elizabeth were honorable. He was not toying with her simply because she was present. He paused. Was he? Did he wish to pursue her in a more permanent manner? He supposed he did. The more he knew her, the more he was inclined. But of course he had no way of knowing what he wanted to do about the rest of his life. Based on his current knowledge, a closeness to her, a more intimate conversation—and he had to admit even a kiss—was on his mind. How could it not be, with her entirely too tempting of a mouth so close? His cravat suddenly felt too tight, his jacket stretched across his shoulders unnaturally, and the area around him too confined. He wished for space and some distance between him and any other person.

Only he was close to them all, most particularly Miss Elizabeth.

She must have sensed something off in him because she removed her hand and stepped over to Miss Mary, linking arms with her. They began a low, out of earshot conversation, causing frowns on both men’s faces.

Darcy would have laughed if he wasn’t still in need of air, more air, far away from other people kinds of air. Miss Elizabeth had a much greater hold on him than he realized. With a lift of her eyelashes, he was at her command. He’d almost kissed the woman. He’d certainly shown his desire to do so. If he could just have a moment to think…