Surveying the chamber with a critical eye, he noted that the décor was dated, to say the least. Even cast in the dim light of the late evening dusk, the dark honey papering dominated the space; it's green, pink, and blue embroidery delicately weaving together scenes of nature, of flowers blooming and birds soaring while the heavy, golden drapes adorning the windows and bed completed the assault on the senses. The air was still, musty from years of disuse; the furnishings draped in heavy linens, appearing almost like ghosts, phantoms of another time haunting this lonely corner of the house; specters of moments in his life that had long since passed and were never to be lived again.
Tapping lightly on the door, it took only but a moment for her to summon him; the young lad of eight pushing with all his might at the heavy door. The chamber was bathed in candlelight, the soft glow of their flames surrounding him as he padded across the cold oak floor, his slippers making barely a sound as he moved. Approaching the dressing table, he gazed in wonder at the elaborate coiffure atop his mother's head, a mass of blond curls piled high beneath the spectacular, feathered and flowered hat which was currently being secured by her maid.
"Fitzwilliam!" Lady Anne greeted cheerfully, her tone gay as she observed his reaction from her glass. "Do you not care for my new hat?"
Uncertain as to what he should say, the boy merely shook his head in wonder as he approached the bench, climbing onto it as he had done countless times before to watch his mother prepare for the evening.
Leaning as close to him as she dared, careful not to tip her head too far lest she send the hour's worth of work tumbling to the table, she whispered, "I fear I must confess that I too am no fan either, but such is the way of lady's fashions these days." Then sharing a small giggle with her son, she returned her attention to the selection of jewelry laying on the table before her, chatting amicably with the boy as she selected her pieces for the evening.
Soon they were interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Darcy, appearing dapper in his impeccably tailored waistcoat and matching tailcoat; the shine of the buckle on his leather shoes flashing in the candlelight as he approached them. Bending to place a small peck upon his wife's cheek, he could not help but jest, "Ah, I see our table shall be blessed with an abundance of goose this week."
"Yes, yes, how very witty you are my dear," she replied drolly. However, the slight quirk of her lips belied her words. "And you know very well that they are ostrich, not goose."
"I assure you I know no such thing."
Gasping in feigned astonishment, she challenged, "And yet I believe you do tout yourself to be quite the birdsman! Such deception!"
Observing their exchange quietly, the young master Darcy had grown to recognize these dry exchanges between his parents to be a hallmark of their affection for one another; a marriage filled with witty japes and knowing looks.
"Yes well, I am grateful we are not at Pemberley; for surely that hat would draw out any wolf which may yet roam the wilds of Derbyshire," his father quipped, before pausing for a moment to take in the rest of his wife's attire. "Although, I believe it may be the wolves of London with whom I should be concerned."
Rising from her dressing table, Lady Anne paused for a moment to whisper into her husband's ear something the young master could not discern, but as she then moved to her dressing room, leaving only an amused smirk upon his countenance, he could only deduce that it had been a jest of some sort.
Finally seeming to notice his son's presence upon the bench, Mr. Darcy then assumed the place beside him, filling the vacancy left by his wife. "And what of your intentions for this evening, Son? Perhaps a card party, hmmm? A night of gaming and drink? Billiards, perhaps?"
"Mrs. Chadwick says I must be off to bed once you and Mama depart."
"Mmmm, yes. A very good suggestion indeed. Best measure to keep one's self out of mischief."
"Mr. Darcy, I do believe I am at last well-prepared for our evening," Lady Anne announced as she emerged from the dressing room.
"Very well," he replied, pushing himself to his feet as he presented his arm. "Then off we shall be."
Following his parents from the lady's chamber, young Fitzwilliam listened intently as they continued to chatter playfully, watching them from the landing as they donned their outwear and made their way from the house.
Yes, the lady's chamber would certainly need to be updated. Allowing that perhaps the cream and sage detailing of the moldings and marbled hearth could possibly be salvaged, the rest he knew would assuredly have to go. Not to mention the thorough cleaning as well as airing the chamber would need to undergo in the coming weeks.
I look forward to many summers spent exploring the grounds of Pemberley.
To any other, such a statement would draw little notice and certainly not any great surprise; the expectant musings of a lady anticipating her new life as a married woman. But to her fiancé, the subtle confession had lightened his heart and filled him with a great sense of relief at finally having an answer to the question he had dared not press her upon. To learn of her intentions to remain with him, to stand at his side as his wife and mistress to his home, had brought such pleasure as he could rarely recall experiencing, secretly granting his greatest wish.
As such, the time would at last arrive for the lady's chambers here in London and at home in Derbyshire to finally shake free from their dusty drop cloths, to cast open their windows to the summer breeze, and their walls to echo with the genteel laughter of their mistress; chambers which had been shut and shuttered for far too many years.
"Your handkerchief, Sir."
Casting a fleeting glance behind him at the sound of Mr. Fletcher's words, he took only but another moment or two to study the space before crossing the threshold once more into his chamber, closing the connecting door quietly behind him as he went. Retrieving the cloth proffered by his valet, he then inquired after the state of the mistress' dressing room, seeking the expertise of his man in evaluating what would be needed to accommodate his bride and her maid.
"I fear it contains little of that which may be of use to the mistress," he confessed. "I believe a new dressing table and glass will certainly be needed, as well as perhaps a chair or two, depending upon the lady's preferences of course."
Nodding in acceptance of this evaluation, he thanked his man for these suggestions and dismissed him to his work, making his way from his chamber, his next destination being his study to await Georgiana. Pouring a brandy, he settled into the chair at his desk, a quiet sigh and gentle smile upon his lips as he absently swirled the glass, his eyes resting on the papers lying open before him. To the left a thicker stack of pages, piled together in a tidy bundle bound by a long piece of twine, the words atop the first page reading Matrimonial Agreement drawing his gaze. The contract, which had been signed mere hours before, moving him one large step closer to securing forever his union with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. And although he knew her concerns towards the match remained far from settled, her concern for himself and Georgiana evident, he was growing increasingly convinced with each passing day that all would ultimately be well.
Resisting the temptation to once more undo the string binding the pages and read it again, as he had already done numerous times before – his gaze inevitably lingering on her delicate signature – he instead reached for the papers to the right, glancing over the hurried script of the missive he had received the morning prior, one which had also brought him an increasing sense of relief.
Perthshire, Scotland
November 25, 1811
Darcy,
There are few words, I fear, which may be able to truly convey the depths of my gratitude to you, my friend. Upon receipt of your letter earlier this month, I wasted little time in contacting my solicitor, charging him with the task of inquiring upon the availability of this property you recommended. You can imagine my great pleasure upon quickly receiving confirmation that the estate had as yet remained unoccupied and the owners quite eager to issue its lease to a gentleman of some stature from the North. As per your advice, I have refrained from using my title throughout the proceedings, electing to be addressed only by the name Mr. Pearce – as my family name has as yet remained unsullied by the vitriol of newspaper gossips.
I shall travel only with Reggie's nursemaid and my man, whom I can trust to utter not a word to the servants who shall be staffed there the truth of my circumstances. 'A recent widower' is all that shall be said. As one never well-versed in deceit, I know not how long I shall be required to maintain such a charade, or if indeed I shall even be able to, but as I cannot bear to live as I have these months past, the reprieve this estate and its small country life can offer is just what I need.
By the time you receive this note, I am sure you shall find me already en route to the south! Again I thank you my friend for presenting me with such an opportunity to escape this all, even if it is only but a temporary respite from these terrible circumstances. And pray, if you should find yourself traveling in Hertfordshire at some time in the near future, you are most welcome at Netherfield.
Your servant,
James
Returning the missive to his desk, the smile upon his face was now irrepressible. Having only several weeks prior been left feeling so impotent in helping those close to him, those struggling in their private – or with James rather public – grief, now resting before him upon his desk were solutions to those he cared for most.
His marriage to Elizabeth served not only to provide her with a means to escape her dire circumstances, but also provided Georgiana with the sisterly companionship she had been missing for the entirety of her young life. Still struggling to recover from the heartbreak and humiliation she had found in Ramsgate, the innocence of a young girl forever tarnished, she had withdrawn into herself. Always shy by nature, she had become even more uncomfortable in the company of strangers, wary of those whom she did not know well. But her bonds with Elizabeth had steadily and rapidly grown. And now with Elizabeth's outgoing and gregarious nature, which he was certain would return once they were free from the shadow of Mr. Collins, he knew Georgiana would simply blossom, mentored by a woman who she could trust not to lead her astray.
And for his childhood friend, one whose life had also been rent asunder by the deceitful and callous actions of another, one whom he had trusted without question and given freely of his heart, he too now had a means of escaping from the taint of ruination now plaguing his family. To travel to a rather isolated strip along the English countryside, one invisible to the attention of the Ton, he would be able to live free of his public humiliation, of whispers behind fans and open mocking of his wife's betrayal.
Yes, Mr. Darcy was left well-pleased with his ability to now bring relief and a hope of happiness to those for whom he was most concerned.
A knock on the door announced the arrival of Georgiana. Rising from his seat, he finished what remained of his brandy and moved towards the door. Opening it, he was greeted by the subdued demeanor of his sister, attempting to cover for her discomfort with their plans for the evening by declaring herself ready to depart. "I hope my delay will not make us too late for the Bingleys."
Well, perhaps not all of those close to him.
***PnP***
"Mr. Darcy! Georgiana! How so very pleased I am that you are able to join us this evening!"
"Miss Bingley," he greeted dispassionately, bowing over her hand in a show of polite yet icy propriety. But as she attempted to retain his grasp for longer than necessary, perhaps in futile hopes of receiving a kiss or other such sign of encouragement from the gentleman, he recognized the failure of yet another fruitless attempt to subtly dissuade the lady's attention. Why he so foolishly continued to hope that she would one day catch his meaning and set her sights elsewhere, he knew not. His only hope now to free himself of her undesired attempts at familiarity and unwelcome flirtations lay in his pending nuptials.
Withdrawing his hand with an admittedly ungentlemanly flick of the wrist, he then turned his attention to the Hursts, expressing his appreciation for their consideration in inviting them this evening – as technically it was their home in which he was to dine – and noting that Mr. Hurst as expected had already claimed an edge over his guests with regards to the wine. When at last he then turned to Charles, who had only just arrived in the drawing room, the two exchanged a rather awkward greeting, one lacking the usual camaraderie to be found when in one another's company. Having not spoken directly since their unpleasant confrontation in Mr. Darcy's study, both gentlemen seemed uncertain as to what to expect of the other. Their greetings short and their unease apparent, it was in this manner that all assumed their places about the room.
But not a moment after assuming his seat, Mr. Darcy found himself once again rising to his feet, this time in greeting to the Bingley's cousin, whom he was quite dispirited to find resided with them still.
"Mr. Darcy! How very delighted I am that we shall be able to dine together once more!" She greeted, her eye lashes fluttering becomingly – or so he assumed was their intent – before then turning to greet Georgiana as well. His displeasure was then made complete as she assumed a place beside him on the settee; her presence also causing Georgiana to tense in response.
"Yes, Cousin Patrice has so anticipated your dining with us this evening," Miss Bingley sneered, momentarily surveying her cousin with barely concealed contempt before then turning a smiling countenance upon Mr. Darcy, commenting, "As have we all."
"But I especially so as-"
"Yes, as this shall afford our dear cousin the opportunity to take her leave of you, Miss Darcy," Miss Bingley interrupted, now turning her attention to Georgiana although her words were most certainly meant for the young lady's brother. "With our dear Miss Wyndham removed to Bath, Cousin Patrice shall be returning to Scarborough ahead of the holidays."
"Possibly," Miss Parham corrected. "My parents and I have been in discussion of the possibility that I may return home ahead of Christmastime. But we are not as yet settled upon the matter." Then turning a flirtatious eye upon the gentleman seated beside her, she added, "I find London offers such temptations of entertainment and merriment from which I may be unable to tear myself."
"Yet, but our aunt does write of missing your company terribly and so desires your presence for the season's celebrations."
"She does?" Mr. Bingley then asked, his surprise at his sister's claims evident.
Already losing patience with yet another of Miss Bingley's charades and deeply uninterested in the travel arrangements of their overly-forward cousin, Mr. Darcy instead chose to ignore what he was sure was Charles' unwitting exposure of his sister's falsehoods and inquired after the Wyndhams.
"Caroline received a letter from Miss Wyndham just the other day," Charles replied, his tone suggesting that the news received was not as promising as he had surely hoped. "There has been little change in her grandmother's condition, and they are uncertain how long they shall be remaining in Bath."
Offering his sympathies in response, Mr. Darcy was then relieved to relinquish the need to say more as Miss Bingley happily assumed the responsibility of carrying the conversation, sharing her knowledge of Miss Wyndham's time in Bath and how pleased they all were to someday call her family. As the topic of the lady had quickly become a source of contention between the two gentlemen, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley carefully diverted their gazes from one another as she spoke, both openly relieved when the call to dinner finally, hopefully brought the topic of Mr. Bingley's intended to a conclusion.
Whatever respite was to be had, however, was fleeting at best as the gentleman soon found himself unwittingly seated between Miss Bingley and Miss Parham for the course of their meal; both having successfully deployed a scheme to redirected Georgiana, his preferred table mate, to the seat beside Charles. Although judging from Miss Bingley's expression, she had most certainly failed to account for the slyness of her cousin, who made quick work of assuming the seat which her scheming had therefor left vacant.
"Have you been enjoying the Season thus far, Mr. Darcy," Miss Parham inquired once the first course had been served. While wishing it were possible to simply ignore her, his sense of etiquette would not allow for such and he turn briefly to respond, finding her gaze cast upon him from beneath lowered lashes, her lips forming a perfectly petite little 'O' as she cooled her soup. Just as she had intended, he was sure.
"Very little, I am afraid," he responded, returning attention to his own dish and silently noting that was one mistake he would most certainly not make again!
"Well that is a pity! Why, there is so much to be seen and to do, such pleasant company to be enjoyed, surely you cannot help but indulge!"
"Ah, but our Mr. Darcy's tastes are far more refined, Patrice," Miss Bingley interjected. "A gentleman of such discernment does not readily find much pleasure in that which entertains others. His interests lie in only the most superior forms of entertainment."
"Oh come now, Cousin, I believe you are too severe upon poor Mr. Darcy! Why, a gentleman of an informed mind and refined tastes can find great pleasure in many things; can he not, Sir?"
With his jaw twitching in protest against the tightness of his scowl, he elected not to respond, choosing instead to offer merely a curt nod of the head as he took yet another swill of his wine. Feeling akin to rabbit caught in a fox's den, he listened silently as the two continued to prattle on, a seemingly endless back and forth of doleful flirtations – directed at him – met with barely concealed barbs from the other in response, leading it to a rather ill-timed yet surprisingly reassuring realization. For in that moment, he realized his marriage to Elizabeth would not only provide her with shelter but he as well, protecting him from the wolves who had been circling him from the moment he had entered Society as a single young man.
Once married, the buzz which surrounded him, preceding him into every ballroom and drawing room throughout England, would soon die down. Whispers of his wealth, his name, his family would no longer dog him wherever he went, as he will no longer be a gentleman in want of a wife. True, he conceded that it was an aspect of his life and his situation from which he would never truly be free, for he was not naïve to the intrigues of Ton. There would always be those gentlemen seeking a patsy to finance some scheme, or a lady displeased in her own marriage who cared little for the sanctity of another's. But as he was adept at spotting the former and had no interest in the latter, the calming of the buzz to but a quiet din would be far more tolerable.
"Would you not agree, Mr. Darcy?"
"Yes," he responded. Then realizing he had once again been lost to his thought and had not in fact heard what Miss Bingley had asked, he hastily added, "Could you repeat your question? I am afraid I quite missed it."
Her visage falling for a moment, it was clear she was not pleased to find the gentleman had not been paying her mind as much as she had presumed. But masterfully covering her displeasure, she repeated, "As Cousin Patrice is quite the lover of card games, she was suggesting setting up the tables and having a game or two of Loo after dinner. I however believe an evening of music and conversation to be far more preferable, as I know yourself and Georgiana are such great admirers of music. Would you not agree?"
"Yes."
"Oh, Georgiana," Miss Bingley then called, capturing the attention of both the young lady and her companion. "And you most certainly must play for us! For you perform so well."
Mr. Darcy could easily discern the agitation such a suggestion elicited in his sister. As she had rarely had the opportunity to perform before others – her audience usually comprised only of her closest family and Mrs. Annesley – the prospect of playing before others was a fear which she had as yet been unable to conquer. And though knowing that she would need to grow accustomed to doing so, as every young lady in Society was expected to, he wished there were some means he could provide to save her from such a fate this evening.
"Oh yes, you must, Miss Darcy," Mr. Bingley then added. "You do play exceptionally well and it has been so very long since we have had the pleasure of hearing you play." An event which had occurred all of once while the Bingley's were visiting Pemberley that summer.
With the rest of the table adding their calls for her to play – save for Mr. Hurst who held little interest in any matter beyond that of his plate – Georgiana reluctantly agreed, her face flush and her hand visibly shaking as she sipped from her wine glass.
"Capital! I must say I do so enjoy listening to you ladies play," Mr. Bingley then continued. "It amazes me how young ladies can have the patience to practice to such perfection, yet play with the inspiration to make each performance so unique."
"Whatever do you mean, Charles?"
"Why, you all could play the same piece of music and yet not one of the performances would sound precisely like another."
"Well, that is very unkind of you Charles!" Caroline gasped. "We are, all of us, quite skilled in playing the pianoforte! Why, we could all play the same piece precisely and you would never be able to tell one from the other! For that is what is to be expected of a truly accomplished lady."
"Now Caroline, that is not how I meant-"
"For only a lady who is lacking in refinement and proper tutoring must compensate for her poor playing with flourishes and improvise," she continued. Then turning to Louisa, snickered, "And we have certainly heard our fair share of those in our travels."
"I assure you I know not what you mean, Caroline," Mr. Bingley declared, his frustration with his sister's willful misinterpretation of his meaning becoming evident. "Every lady who I have had the pleasure of hearing has performed marvelously, and I would be delighted to spend an evening listening to them play again given the chance. Why, I wish Miss Bennet were here this very evening so that I may have the chance to hear her perform once more."
At once the conversation ceased, Mr. Bingley realizing only too late what he had said while the others at the table who were familiar with the lady were stunned silent at the mention of her name, a name they had not heard him utter in nearly eleven months. Swallowing heavily against the sudden dryness in his throat, Mr. Darcy quietly lifted his glass to his lips, hoping to squelch the sudden thirst as he caught Georgiana's eye, looking to him in uncertainty. But unable to offer her any indication as to how they should proceed, he instead turned his gaze on the man who had landed them in this uncomfortable situation, the man who was currently flushed red in embarrassment and struggling for a means to correct his mistake.
When it was finally Mr. Hurst who piped in, his contribution to the situation was by no measure helpful. "That droll little thing? Bah, terrible, terrible. There is not enough wine in the world to render her performances tolerable."
"Mr. Hurst!" his wife gasped, but any sting that may have been intended was soon undermined as a shared glance between the sisters quickly sent them both into a fit of giggles. "I hardly believe he was referring to Miss Mary Bennet!"
Growing redder still, Charles sought a means to relieve his own distress, bumbling in his attempt to clarify his meaning. "W-w-w-well, no. No, it was… it… it was Miss Elizabeth and not Miss Mary to whom I was referring, but neither deserves such censure. Tis very unfair of you, Hurst, to insult the young lady so. She performed as best she could, and I think deserves far more-"
"Eliza Bennet? Why on earth would you wish for Eliza Bennet to be with us?" Caroline then demanded, her mirth at Mr. Hurst's joke fading at once.
"Why… why she is here in Town. I had the pleasure of dining with her but a few weeks ago," he explained, looking helplessly to Mr. Darcy as the whole of the truth could then not help but spill forth. "We dined together at Darcy House."
Feeling five sets of eyes then turning upon him, Mr. Darcy made of point of causally returning his wine glass to the table, assuming an air of nonchalance as he prepared for the onslaught of snide remarks he was certain he would soon be receiving.
"Eliza Bennet at Darcy House! How peculiar! I would not have guessed her to be a frequent visitor to Berkeley Square."
"And yet she is indeed," he replied, taking a moment to offer a look of reassurance to his sister before continuing. "I had the great fortune of becoming reacquainted with Miss Bennet recently and have enjoyed the company of her and her relatives on a number of occasions."
"Her relatives?" Miss Bingley gasped, the smirk upon her lips boarding dangerously close to a sneer. "Oh yes! The ones from Cheapside?"
"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner." Now turning the entirety of his attention on her, his expression became one of challenge, daring her to pursue this ill-advised path.
Sadly, it was a warning she had never learned to heed.
"Tis a pity then that they could not join us this evening. Had I but known of Miss Eliza's presence in Town I would have been sure to invite her. Perhaps we may still have time to invite them to dine with us before you leave London, Patrice. For I am certain you would so greatly enjoy making their acquaintance.
"Her uncle owns a shop, I believe it is, in Cheapside. Tell me, Mr. Darcy, is he much like his sister, Mrs. Bennet?"
His ire rising with each thinly veiled slight, he was sure to choose his words carefully. "I find he bears quite a bit in common with Mr. Bennet. He has a similar passion for books, and we have found a number of titles over which we share a great similarity in opinion."
"Why that would be quite the opposite of his sister then!" Turning to Patrice, she explained, "Mrs. Bennet was not one to be troubled much with histories or poetry. In truth, I cannot be sure she read much at all! Would you not agree, Sir?"
When he chose not to answer, Miss Bingley was more than willing to continue undeterred. "Indeed, I am quite certain you do; you said as much when we were discussing Eliza and Mrs. Bennet!" Glancing briefly to Louisa, the two began to giggle as she then recounted the conversation in question, "I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, 'She a beauty!—I should as soon call her mother a wit!'"
As the sisters then giggled amongst themselves, the others sat mutely in uncomfortable silence: Mr. Bingley's countenance conveying his deepest regrets to his longtime friend; Georgiana's one of confusion and hurt for her friend, and Mr. Hurst and Miss Parham focusing on their dishes as they held little interest in the discussion of Mrs. Bennet. But Mr. Darcy's countenance, for those who cared to take notice, was one marked distinctly with ire, the reminder of his harsh and foolish words towards not only Mrs. Bennet but his fiancée as well sitting very ill with him indeed.
When at last Miss Bingley was able to return her attention to the gentleman, her hauteur quickly got the best of her. Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Mr. Darcy admired Elizabeth, she could not see that this was not the best method of recommending herself; but angry people are not always wise and in seeing him at last looking somewhat nettled, she continued.
"I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty. For my own part, I must confess that I never could see any beauty in Eliza Bennet. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character—there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable."
Pausing for a moment, she studied Mr. Darcy closely, seeking to discern his thoughts in regard to her diatribe. But as was often the case with the gentleman, she was unable to decipher his inner-most musings and seeking to make him speak, she observed. "But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time."
"Yes," replied Mr. Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, "but that was only when I first saw her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance." Then pausing for but a moment to consider his words, he turned the whole of his attention on Miss Bingley, just as she had been hoping he would.
"In fact, it is my very great pleasure to announce that I have asked Miss Bennet for her hand in marriage and she has been so generous as to grant it."
The silence which then descended upon the table was unlike any he could remember, for it was as if the entire room had become frozen in that particular moment in time. Mr. Bingley's spoon raised partway to his lips, the decanter of wine hovering above Mr. Hurst's glass, and each of the ladies' gazes locked upon him, their expressions each one of surprise. Except for Miss Bingley's whose smug smile was fixed in place as she was as yet incapable of responding to his pronouncement.
When at last the silence was broken, it was Mr. Bingley who was the first to find his voice. "Uh… Darcy, pray accept my most heartfelt congratulations. To yourself and Miss Bennet."
Finally turning his attention from the woman seated beside him, he thanked his friend for his felicitations, attempting to convey through his gaze his sincerest apology to the gentleman. For it had not been Mr. Darcy's intention to announce his betrothal to his friend in such a manner. He had planned to share his news with Mr. Bingley once the sexes had separated and Mr. Hurst would have undoubtedly drifted off into his wine-induced slumber, as was his usual want during these dinners. Knowing precisely how his news would be received by his friend's sisters – one in particular – he had hoped to avoid a scene just as this. But Miss Bingley's unkindly and ill-conceived attack upon his intended had rendered him unable to check his tongue.
"Yes," Mrs. Hurst added, her shock as well as her discomfort apparent as she absently reached for her wine glass. "Pray, do accept our best wishes for you and your bride." Casting her eyes anxiously towards her sister, she then continued. "I am sure I can speak for all of us in wishing you and Miss Bennet the very best."
"I thank you. I shall be certain to convey your felicitations to her when next we meet."
"I must say, you certain selected a most spirited of brides," Mr. Hurst then chimed in rather unexpectedly from the far end of the table. "She will keep you on your toes, that is for sure."
"Mr. Hurst!" His wife hissed.
"Yes," Mr. Darcy could not help but agree, his countenance shifting ever so slightly as he mused upon his betrothed. "She will undoubtedly return to Pemberley a spirit and liveliness which has sadly been lacking since the passing of our mother, a revitalization of which Georgiana and I greatly anticipate."
"And have you settled upon a date for your nuptials?" Mr. Bingley inquired.
"We have selected the seventh of January, when Miss Bennet's mother and sisters shall be in Town."
"Ah, I see," was all he could offer in response.
Silence was then allowed to return as the staff cleared the first course from the table and placed the next before them. Hazarding a glance to his right, Mr. Darcy was both relieved as well as bit concerned to find his table mate, Miss Bingley, focused rather firmly upon her meal, having elected to remain silent following his declaration. Though now having finally shaken free from her shock, she had settled into a stoic sort of disquiet, a state in which she remained for the rest of the meal, leaving to her sister for the first time ever the task of entertaining the Darcys. When at last the evening drew to a close, she had managed to utter a simple farewell as they departed.
***PnP***
"Are you feeling well, Lizzy? You appear a bit flushed."
Pulled from her thoughts, Elizabeth turned to her sister with a bit of a start, apologizing for her inattention and assuring Jane that she felt quite well, thank you.
But made skeptical by the quickness of her sister's response, Jane took a moment to observe her quietly before inquiring after the source of her unease. "You are not troubled in our visiting Darcy House, are you? Have you not called before?"
"No- I mean yes. That is-" Pausing to release a frustrated sigh, displeased with her ability to form a more coherent thought at the moment, she sought to clarify, "Yes, we have dined at Darcy House on more than one occasion, but then we were there merely as dinner guests. This visit I fear is far beyond any I could have expected."
And indeed it was.
As the carriage ambled its way towards Berkeley Square, a route which was quickly growing more familiar with each sojourn to Darcy House, the ladies ensconced within prepared for their morning's purpose: to tour Darcy House with Elizabeth and set the staff to task preparing for the arrival of their new mistress a month hence. It was a visit that was arranged at the insistence of Mr. Darcy during his latest call on Gracechurch Street, the one in which the marriage contract had been presented and signed as well as engaging in a lengthy discussion on several properties which could soon become the new home for the Bennet women.
The call had already served as a bit of a whirlwind for Elizabeth, as the terms of the marriage agreement far surpassed any she could have imagined. His generosity in providing for her family was, even by Mr. Gardiner's calculations, far beyond what he ladies could have use for, although he did not fail to suggest that he held little doubt Mrs. Bennet would happily rise to the occasion. But it was his settlement upon herself and any children their union may produce which had truly robbed her of her breath. To say that she would never have cause for want again was an understatement to say the least, yet despite her objections – when at last she had regained her powers of speech – he would not be swayed, assuring her that such a settlement was what any lady assuming a position such as hers would expect.
When at last the terms had been discussed and the contract signed, she felt her fate as the future Mrs. Darcy was truly sealed. And while such a thought still caused her chest to tighten in response – having just finalized the largest and most important decision of her life – she was reassured to find it a thought which also brought some measure of relief. For she had now seen recorded on paper and sealed with their signatures the security of not only herself, but of her loved ones as well.
"Tis an important moment for any young woman," Mrs. Gardiner then observed. "For a lady to call upon the home that shall soon be hers to manage, to meet the staff who shall be hers to direct is almost a rite of passage, one could say."
Arriving at their destination, Elizabeth was not overly surprised to find the master of the house himself descending the entrance steps in order to greet them personally, arriving in time to assist each lady as she stepped from the carriage.
"Miss Bennet," he greeted, "how very nice it is it to see you once more." That his pleasure in the eldest Miss Bennet's company had more to do with providing him leeway to address his fiancée by her Christian name she need not know.
"I thank you, Sir. Tis a pleasure for myself as well, and pray accept my best wishes to you and Lizzy upon your marriage."
Gracious in his acceptance, he invited the ladies to follow him into the house where several key members of the staff had assembled in the entrance hall, patiently awaiting the introduction of their new mistress. The first to be formally introduced was the butler, Mr. Hawkins, who they had already met on previous occasions; his recognition of her of little concern to Elizabeth. But as Mr. Darcy then moved on to Mrs. Chadwick, a servant who she would have little reason to have met before this moment, Elizabeth felt her breathing becoming a bit shallow, her heart beating a bit faster. For this was the first time since her brief residency at Darcy House that she would face the housekeeper, one who had witnessed her disgrace firsthand.
"Miss Elizabeth, allow me to present Mrs. Chadwick, our housekeeper here at Darcy House. She has been in service to our family for a great many years and shall be at your disposal in addressing any and all matters concerning the management of the house and staff."
Rising from her curtsey, the older woman greeted, "An honor to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet. Pray, on the behalf of the staff as well as myself, allow me to offer our sincerest welcome to Darcy House. It will be our great pleasure to assist you in any manner we may."
Touched by the sincerity of the housekeeper's words and seeing that she betrayed not at all their previous acquaintance brought some relief to Elizabeth's concerns. Knowing what she did, Elizabeth had been apprehensive ahead of their meeting again, uncertain how she would be received as the new Mrs. Darcy. "I thank you. I too look forward to working with you. Your guidance, I am sure, will be invaluable in helping me learn the intricacies of my role as Mrs. Darcy."
Moving on, Mr. Darcy then proceeded down the short line of servants assembled, introducing Mr. Fletcher, Mr. Darcy's valet, Mrs. Avery, the cook, and Mr. Hawes, the head coachman, each bowing or curtseying respectfully as they were presented to their future mistress. And she could not help but note: each in possession of the truth concerning her first visit to Darcy House.
Thanking those assembled, he soon dismissed them to their work. "I believe Mrs. Chadwick has provided tea and cakes for us in the drawing room. Would you care to partake now or once we have concluded our tour?" With all agreeing that such refreshments would be better enjoyed once their tour had concluded, he directed them towards the dining room to begin.
"Will Georgiana not be joining us?" Mrs. Gardiner inquired curiously.
"She is just concluding her music lesson and should be joining us shortly." Then turning his attention to his betrothed, he added, "Pray, do not hesitate to make alterations to any room we may view today, or indeed any part of Darcy House. It had been a great many years since these spaces have been updated and would, I believe, benefit greatly from the care of their new mistress."
Once again feeling the significance of her position beginning to weigh heavily upon her, her tongue was quick to mask her unease, "I would beg of you to be more careful, Sir. I believe you underestimate what havoc may be wrought in granting a woman such as myself the freedom to disrupt your home."
His brows rising in surprise, he inquired with great curiosity after her meaning.
"I am a woman often prone to bouts of restlessness when I am confined for too long indoors, when I have no fields to roam nor peaks to climb. Why, you may very well return from your club one cold winter's day to find all the furnishings rearranged and your study transformed into a sitting room."
"Then quite the pair we shall make."
Now it was the turn of Elizabeth's brows to rise in quiet inquiry, a gentle chuckle escaping her as he explained, "I am sure you must recall once hearing me described as positively intolerable on occasions when I find myself with nothing to do. I imagine that by our restlessness combined we may drive the staff from the house some Sunday evening."
But as the memories of that particular conversation came to mind, she could not help turning her eyes to dear Jane, who was following closely behind them as they entered the dining room. Thankful that her sister did not seem to realize to whom Mr. Darcy was referring, she then returned her attention to the gentleman, finding he too had seemed to recognize his folly in calling forth such memories. However, brushing aside his faux pas, he elected to begin their tour, drawing the ladies' attention to various pieces of furniture and wall hangings as he explained the historical or familial importance of each piece.
The next room they were to tour, much to Elizabeth's delight, was Mr. Darcy's rather well-stocked library. Upon entering the sanctuary, she gasped in wonder at finding stretched along each wall large oak bookcases, their shelves brimming with tomes arranged neatly into what she suspected would be well-organized order. As he then proceeded to explain the breadth and history of the collection, one which had been amassed over the course of several generations, he invited the ladies to peruse the collection if they so desired and hesitate not to select any volumes which may capture their interest.
"How very generous, Sir!" Mrs. Gardiner replied, thanking him for his offer as she leisurely slipped her arm about one of Jane's and moved to examine the shelves closest to the window. Those, Elizabeth quickly noted, being the farthest removed from where she and Mr. Darcy were currently standing.
"The collection has been organized in accordance to subject," Mr. Darcy continued, extending his hand in invitation for her to observe more closely the shelves beside them. His tone all that was proper and polite in its carriage and his countenance reserved, she had almost believed him oblivious to her aunt's obvious machinations. But as she had moved to follow his lead and turn her attention upon the tomes lining the wall before them, she did not fail to notice the slight smirk pulling faintly at the corner of his lips, nor the subtle lowering of his voice as he spoke. "It is primarily comprised of those volumes for which we hold a particular interest."
"How so?"
"My parents, much like Georgiana and myself, preferred to make Pemberley their home, coming to London only as often and for as long as needed to conclude the necessary business and social obligations. As such, during what little time was spent here, they preferred the comfort of their favorite pieces to fill their time, while having all new acquisitions sent to Derbyshire where they could be enjoyed in a more leisurely manner."
"I see."
"Therefore just about any of the titles which you see here can also be found in the library at Pemberley. Please feel free to do so as well."
"To possess two copies of each of my favorite books?" she jested. "Again I must advise you to be careful in making such promises, Sir. For you may very well find yourself made destitute as a result of your wife's extravagance!"
"'An investment in knowledge always pays the best interest,'" He quoted.
"I hardly believe such can be said of French novels!"
Pausing for a moment to consider her words, he soon conceded the point but remained undeterred in his insistence that she feel free to add to either of their libraries any volumes which she may desire. While maintaining the appearance of good humor as she agreed, she struggled to suppress the overwhelming realization of the family and lifestyle into which she would soon enter. To hear him speak so casually of a practice which would have left her own family penniless for sure was absolutely breath-taking, illustrating rather clearly for her the true breadth of the chasm which existed between their stations.
Returning her attention to the bookshelf, Elizabeth began to scan through the titles, her fingers lightly brushing over their spines as she moved along the wall. After several minutes, she at last found that which she sought, the copy of Gulliver's Travels she had been so fortunate to sample during her brief residence six weeks prior.
Has it only been six weeks since that horrid place? How much had happened since then, how much had changed in such a short time. It was inconceivable!
Here she stood, touring what was to be her new home, beside the man she was to marry – a man she had so vehemently rejected but eight months prior. In the far corner stood Jane, her sweet and giving sister who had elected to enter into service in hopes of providing some small measure of support for her mother and sisters. But now she was once more at home with her family, free of a life that had quickly been draining the light from her eyes. And for her mother and younger sisters, although they were not yet aware of it, the wheels were now in motion to procure the house which would soon become their new home; a comfortable and spacious townhouse in Sidmouth which she had selected from among those presented alongside the marriage agreement the previous morning.
Yes, so very much had changed in so little time.
"Would you care to take it with you?"
"Oh!" She gasped, too distracted with her own thoughts to realize Mr. Darcy had followed her as she had moved along the shelves. Glancing about for her aunt and sister, she was not surprised to find they too had shifted to another wall, maintaining their distance in order to allow the couple their privacy. "I thank you, but that will not be necessary."
But as she returned the book to the shelf, she could feel his gaze upon her, unwavering as he observed her pensively, most certainly seeking some clue as to where her thoughts had carried her. After several painfully long moments, he relented and returned his attention the tome in question, pulling it from its place on the shelf and returning it to her hand, "Pray, keep it. I wish you to have it."
Murmuring her appreciation for his generosity, she decided to accept the gift without further disagreement, anxious to dispel the discomfort which had settled upon them and restore a lighter air to their conversation. Inquiring after his particular contributions to the collection, she hoped a discussion of his preferences in reading may help fill the time. That this could also provide her an opportunity to gain addition insights into her enigmatic fiancé was a chance she could not pass up.
Her scheme successful, the conversation served to keep them occupied as they concluded their tour of the ground floor; the group joined at last by Georgiana as they climbed the marble stairway to the first floor. With the ladies already being familiar with the drawing rooms – and would be returning to them for tea at the conclusion of the tour – the gentleman led the small group to the ballroom, which had been opened and aired for this particular purpose; the result of his staffs' labor appreciated by all as they entered the stunning grand ballroom.
Painted in a combination of peach and sage, the room was light and airy, open and expansive. The floor, which was comprised of wood panels laid out in an intricate pattern of geometric shapes, divided the room into distinctive sections, clearly marking the best areas for dancing, socializing and refreshments, while tall Grecian columns framed doorways and carved out comfortable alcoves. Each nook was then furnished with burgundy velvet chairs and cozy benches, which in livelier times would await tired dancers in need of a rest, offering comfort and a small amount of privacy as they rested beneath portraits of Darcys past. Above, four large chandeliers were hung, stretching the length of the room; their light reflected by the gold plated accents decorating the molding. Completing the magnificence of the room, the ceiling: an intricately carved series of panels painted in light, complementary pastels ornamented with delicate gold trim. A truly grand ballroom to be sure.
"My, what lovely instruments," Mrs. Gardiner gasped, drawing the attention of all towards a finely made pianoforte and a standing harp which were pleasantly situated at one end of the room. Taking up Jane's arm once more, she then asked Georgiana if she would be so kind as to allow them a closer inspection of such grand instruments.
Mr. Darcy, seizing the opportunity for another few minutes alone with his intended, wasted not a moment in approaching a portrait hanging nearby; Elizabeth following as he began to identify each of the relatives looking down upon them. As she listened to him speak, sharing stories of colonels and judges, bishops and politicians, she could not help but be impressed, noting that the pride with which he discussed his ancestry was not without warrant. For he truly was but the latest in a long lineage of prestigious personages.
After several minutes of listening to tales of the Darcy ancestors, they came to a halt before yet another portrait, the one featured at the far end of the ballroom, a place of prominence from which the great lady could supervise the activities below. Draped in a flowing gown of sapphire silk, her blond curls piled high beneath a hat adorned with countless feathers and ribbons, she was undoubtedly a woman of high status and high style for her day. "She is quite handsome," she observed.
"You think so?"
"Yes." Tilting her head slightly, she studied the features more closely, feeling as if she were a lady to whom Elizabeth was already acquainted. After a few moments, she was then struck by the similarity, discerning just what it was about the great lady which seemed so familiar. "Why, she looks quite a bit like Georgiana!"
"You have quite the eye, Miss Bennet. May I present Lady Anne Darcy, our mother."
"Your mother?" she asked with a bit of surprise. Returning her attention to the portrait once more, she examined the noblewoman with great consideration. She was indeed quite handsome, her features almost regal in their form – her high cheek-bones and delicate features indicative of the Lady's breeding and status among the peerage. Her eyes hinted at the possession of a keen mind, but were not without a spark of mischief as well. A lady Elizabeth could not help but suspect could be a force to be reckoned with.
With a faint hint of mischief twinkling in her own eyes, Elizabeth schooled her features into an expression of somber reverence and executed an elegant curtsey, "Tis an honour, Milady."
Looking to Mr. Darcy, she was more pleased than she would care to admit at espying a smirk of amusement in response to her antics. "I am certain she would have taken great pleasure in making your acquaintance."
"In finding me to be your betrothed? Would I not have been viewed as an upstart? A foil to her plans?"
Clearly confused by such a question, he regarded her curiously. "Her plans?"
"For your marriage to your cousin," she clarified, considering Anne de Bourgh for the first time since their engagement.
But whatever concern was beginning to bubble within her was quickly dispelled by the roll of the gentleman's eyes. "Fear not. That is but the wishful imaginings of an overbearing aunt. My mother never spoke of such wishes to I nor my father, and never would she have thought to do so."
"And yet Lady Catherine appeared quite certain of her sister's wishes," she observed.
"Yes, Lady Catherine is the eldest of the three and viewed such as a position of authority over my uncle and mother. As I am sure you had noticed, she is quite convinced her word should be law, despite the simple fact that no one beyond the walls of Rosings actually listens to her."
Not wishing to appear disrespectful, she pressed her lips tightly together, suppressing her desire to laugh in response to the rather farcical picture he had painted of the lady. Instead she elected to inquire after the 'three' to which he had referred.
"Lady Catherine is, as I said, the eldest followed then by my uncle, Lord Matlock, whom you shall have the pleasure of meeting two days hence at our dinner on Sunday."
"Pray tell, is he of a similar disposition to the Great Lady?" she asked, her nerves surrounding the pending appointment not going unnoticed.
"Thankfully, no. I actually enjoy my uncle's company," he quipped, resuming their stroll beneath his ancestors. "His temper tends more towards that of my mother than my aunt. A dry, witty sense of humor not too dissimilar from that of Mr. Gardiner." Pausing then, he seemed to consider his next words carefully before adding, "But I should warn you that he was not entirely happy with our betrothal."
"Oh?"
"Mmmmm. While he is generally a gentleman of good humor and a keen intellect; he is still very much a man of his circle in his thoughts and prejudices."
"I see."
"But I have no doubt that once he has the chance to meet you, such thoughts shall be quickly dismissed."
"We can but hope."
"My aunt, Lady Rebecca, will no doubt see to it," he smirked.
"If your mother's portrait hangs here, can I not assume your father's is nearby?" she then asked, seeking to steer their conversation once more towards happier thoughts.
"No, he had this hung here upon its completion, despite her objections. My parents were quite close, a couple who had married for love and enjoyed great happiness throughout their marriage. He always claimed to have selected this particular spot so that he could still gaze upon her while social obligations took her from his side during countless parties and balls."
Touched by such a thoughtful, endearing gesture, she could not help by ask, "Your father was quite the romantic then?"
"He would have us believe so, yes," he replied cryptically, pausing until he received the quizzical expression he had no doubt been seeking. "My mother declared his true motives to be far less so. It was her belief that he did so knowing it would annoy her to no end as well as to serve as a reminder to the other gentlemen in the room that she had already been claimed as Mrs. Darcy."
Laughing merrily in response, she felt her mood lightening considerably, an improvement which remained with them as the continued the tour. Reuniting once more with Mrs. Gardiner, Jane, and Georgiana, the group then made their way through the remaining rooms on the first floor before ascending to the chambers above. Mr. Darcy appeared a bit reluctant to leave them at that point, but adhering to his prudent sense of propriety, he bequeathed the role of tour guide to his sister while declaring that he would await them in the drawing room below.
Making their way through the guest chambers first, Elizabeth schooled her features as they toured the Yellow Room, mindful of her response when first entering the bright and airy space. Limiting her contributions to merely agreeing with comments from her aunt and sister, she was relieved when they quickly moved on to the next chamber, which she immediately realized must be the mistress' chamber.
Entering the chamber left her feeling as if she had taking a step backwards in time. The décor is dated to be sure, she could not help but notice, but not unpleasantly so. The embroidered papering which covered the walls would need to be removed, and the draperies were in need of replacing, but both were not tasks which she felt needed to be addressed in the immediate. Her eyes then scanned the chamber, quickly surveyed the furnishings, which were cut from dark, heavy wood, before finally settling upon the bed itself. She had to admit that it did appear inviting and comfortable, but as it was also to serve as her marital bed, an aspect of her future which she did not yet wish to ponder on for any length of time, she quickly diverted her eyes and found her attention arrested instead by the two doors to her left. Assuming one led to a dressing room and the other quite probably to the master's chamber, she then turned from them completely, thanking Georgiana for her time and attention in showing them about the chambers, and suggested they not make Mr. Darcy await their return for too long.
With Mrs. Gardiner agreeing that she would enjoy a cup of tea, the small group made their way back to the drawing room, finding the master of the house awaiting them as promised. Accepting a cup of tea from her hostess, Elizabeth perused the selection of delicacies which had been prepared for their enjoyment, selecting an apple tart which she remembered to be particularly delectable, before seeking out a seat in which to enjoy her refreshments. Seeing the ladies settling close to the fire, she noticed that the gentleman had remained removed from the group, hovering close to the window as he sipped quietly at his tea. Noting that two chairs were conveniently situated beside him, she acceded to his subtle request for her company and moved to assume one of the chairs beside the window.
"I hope you are not displeased with Darcy House," he inquired, assuming the vacant chair beside her.
"No, not at all."
"Then you approve of it?"
"Very much. There are few who would not approve."
"But your good opinion is rarely bestowed and therefore more worth the earning."
Flushing lightly at his words, she thanked him quietly before taking a sip of her tea, a convenient cover for her uncertainty in what she could say next.
"If you could draft a list of alterations you wish to have made and bring it with you on Sunday, I will be able to set the staff to work at once. That would allot them the time needed to have everything prepared for your arrival in January."
"Oh, I do not believe there are any alterations which need be made in the immediate. The house is quite comfortable as is, and I am sure I shall be as well."
Seemingly surprised to hear this, he asked if she was quite certain, no doubt referring to her chambers if nothing else. But again she assured him she was concerned not at all for her comfort. Finally accepting this, he then glanced about the room, watching the ladies gathered about the fire for a few moments before returning his attention to his intended. Placing his cup upon the table beside him, he then reached inside his tailcoat, retrieving a small velvet pouch from his breast pocket.
"I was hoping we may have a moment of privacy this morning," he confessed, turning the purse about in his hands and nervously smoothing the wrinkles in the cloth. "I have something for you."
"Oh!" she gasped, her face burning in embarrassment as she realized he had procured an engagement present for her. And that she had nothing to give him in return. Her voice dropping to just above a whisper, not wishing for Jane or Georgiana to overhear their conversation, she protested, "I do not believe that to be necessary, Sir. Ours is not a usual engagement."
Looking to her in surprise, his brow knitted in deep contemplation as he considered her words. "Couples marry for any number of reasons," he observed. "I do not believe ours to be so very different."
Ruminating over his words, she reluctantly had to admit that he did have a point. But her acceptance of such did little to dismiss her embarrassment at being the recipient of his gift. "I suppose that to be true."
"And as this is, I do hope, to be the only engagement period either of us shall experience," he quipped, his mood growing lighter as he spoke, "I do not see why we should not be able to enjoy it as would any other couple."
Laughing lightly in response to his observation, she had to concede that he again did have a valid point. "Yes, there certainly is no other whom I would wish to marry." As she then realized what she had said, her color heightened further still, and she quickly cast her eyes to her tea cup as she bit her lip in embarrassment.
"Precisely," he replied, also casting his eyes to his lap in an attempt to hide the slight flush he felt rising in his cheeks. Not to mention the happy smile her words had brought to his face.
Swallowing her mortification, she eventually returned her attention to him, watching as he silently presented his gift. Her fingers trembling slightly, she accepted it quietly, opening the pouch as he looked on nervously. Peeking into the bag, she then gasped softly, unprepared to find that the gift he had selected was a beautiful garnet cross hanging from a delicate gold chain.
"I had noticed that you no longer wore your cross," he quickly began to explain, his tone betraying the uneasiness he most certainly must be feeling as he awaited her response. "I had rarely seen you without it but thought that perhaps it may have been lost or had to be left behind at Longbourn."
Returning her eyes to his, she could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill forth, her emotions quickly rising to the surface. But swallowing heavily against the lump in her throat, she sought to convey through her gaze her great appreciation for his thoughtfulness. "It was. Lost that is." Pausing to again clear her throat, she quickly glanced towards the fire, and finding the others were too engrossed in their own conversation to overhear that of the affianced, she explained, "It was taken from me upon my arrival in London."
Nodding sharply to convey his understanding, he then gestured towards the wall behind her, drawing her attention to a mirror which could be used to admire her gift. And though her fingers were now trembling even more as she clasped it about her neck, she was able to accomplish the task quickly, admiring the beauty of the stone as it reflected the morning light.
"I thank you for your generosity, Sir. It is beautiful." Then turning to face him, she was sure to capture his attention fully, drawing his eyes to hers before declaring, "I love it."
Seeing that her approval pleased him exceedingly as they returned to their chairs, he was far more comfortable in taking up the conversation, enabling them to engage in a pleasant tête-à-tête for the remainder of their time together. When at last they had made their farewells and were on their way back to Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth was relieved to find herself feeling both buoyed by their visit and feeling, for the first time, some small sense of anticipation towards their pending nuptials.
***PnP***
Seated at the table, flipping through the newspaper as he enjoyed his morning cup of coffee, Mr. Darcy was pleased to find that even the state of current affairs was not enough to sour his good mood. The visit with Elizabeth, and more importantly her response to his gift, had left him feeling quite pleased with himself. For a gentleman who had always prided himself on his position and wealth, he was quickly finding it all meant very little if he could not please the woman who was to be his wife. And that she declared his home comfortable and his gift beautiful made him very happy indeed!
But as he mused on that very thought, a knock upon the door heralded the arrival of what he suspected to be the morning post. The hurried step of Mr. Hawkins as he approached, however, did not bode well.
"A note from Mr. Gardiner, Sir," he announced. "The footman informs me that it requires your immediate attention."
Hastily taking the note from his butler, he quickly devoured its content: a call for Mr. Darcy to travel to Gracechurch Street at once; a task in which the gentleman did not delay, arriving at the appointed address as quickly as his coach could carry him.
Arriving at the tradesman's house, he was immediately directed by a rather harried-looking Mrs. Morris to the study, where Mr. Gardiner and his niece awaited him. Upon entering the room, his eyes immediate sought Elizabeth; a sharp, cold pain piercing his chest as he espied her, sitting before Mr. Gardiner's desk with a handkerchief in hand and eyes drowning in tears.
"Good Lord! What has happened?"
"We received this from my man at Longbourn," Mr. Gardiner explained, presenting the letter clasped tightly in his right hand for the gentleman to read.
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
December 6, 1811
Sir,
In conducting a search of Mr. Collins' library this evening, while the family was attending a card party at the Lucases, I uncovered a series of letters tucked out of sight in a drawer of the master's desk. As the content of these letters seem quite queer in nature, I decided it would be best to produce a copy of each, which I have included in this letter.
Mr. Darcy quickly shuffled to the next page, his blood running cold as he consumed its contents:
London
October 25, 1811
Mr. Collins,
It appears we are both guilty of underestimating the fount of wealth currently residing under your care. The item which I had purchased from you this August past has proven to be far more profitable than I had anticipated; the return on my investment more than double what I had expected. I am willing to once again offer £200 in exchange for another.
A.D.