Like the Gentleman He Was Chapter 6, a pride and prejudice fanfic

A/N

Chapter 6 of LTGHW. Hope you enjoy!

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Like the Gentleman He Was

Chapter 6

Darcy entered his town house that day to find his sister practising in the music room. He waited for her to finish the piece so as not to disturb her. After the final notes of the piece fell silent, the music room erupted in applause from him and Mrs Annesley, Georgiana's companion.

"Bravo, Georgie! That was beautifully done," he exclaimed.

"Brother! You gave no indication of your return in the letter I received last week," Georgiana said as she approached him to give him a hug.

"It was a sudden decision, Georgie. Bingley had to travel to London for some business. As soon as he left Netherfield, Miss Bingley decided that she could not wait to shake the dust of Meryton off her feet, and well... here I am.

"Oh! I at least am glad that she did, Fitzwilliam, for I am very pleased to see you." Georgiana Darcy smiled in response.

"As am I, sweetling, as am I," Darcy kissed his sister on the forehead and then went to greet Mrs Annesley. He was glad that they had found such a capable woman to be his sister's companion. In the few months she had been with them, she had been able to bring about a significant difference in Georgie, who had been understandably downcast and low on confidence following the fracas with Wickham.

"I have something to tell you, Georgie, but first let me get cleaned up," he said from the door of the music room.

"Oh! Is everything well, brother?" Georgiana called out in a worried voice.

"Please do not worry, my dear. Everything is well, in fact it is better than well," he turned back to respond with a grin just before exiting the room. Georgiana, who had rarely seen her brother demonstrate such exuberance, stared after him in puzzlement.

~§§§~

Darcy came down nearly an hour later to find Georgiana waiting for him in their mother's favourite parlour. Mrs Annesley had tactfully left them to have their conversation in private. He looked out of the French windows and smiled at the multitude of colours that met his eyes. The red of Holly stood out against the yellow of Jasmine. What the blue, pink, and white hyacinths lacked in height, they made up for in numbers. His mother was very fond of flowers, and gardeners at Pemberley and the ones here in London ensured that the gardens adjacent to her preferred rooms were a riot of colours even in the winter months. Even years after his mother's death, the tradition had not changed.

The bright colours reminded him of Elizabeth. 'I am sure she will be as fond of this room as much as Mother was,' he thought as he looked around the room with a critical eye. His sister had ordered tea and his favourite lemon tarts as refreshments. So, although he felt the need for something stronger, he decided to forgo it for a later hour.

He could see that Georgiana was brimming with impatience to hear his news. However, she waited patiently till she had prepared and offered him tea and refreshments before raising a delicate eyebrow at him. 'Georgie is growing into quite the refined young lady,' he thought with gentle amusement. No more excited cajoling for her now when that would have been what she would have indulged in less than a year ago. He felt nostalgic for a time as he realised that his sister was all grown up and that some of her endearing mannerisms and habits were perhaps gone for good.

He sighed and told her what she appeared to be waiting for. "Georgie, you will be happy to know that soon I am to be married."

Whatever Georgiana had expected to hear, this was certainly not it, for her mouth parted in an 'O', and she stared at Darcy in silence. "You... are teasing me, brother?" she asked hesitantly after a while.

"No, I am not, Georgie," Darcy replied solemnly.

"But... it all appears rather sudden, just like your journey home." Georgiana's confusion was apparent, and Darcy debated how much of the situation to reveal to her.

The anxiety on her face decided him. The previous few months had been trying for them both. Only now, after Mrs Annesley's efforts, did Georgie appear to be letting go of the hurt and disillusionment. It would be unwise to inform her of the compulsion on him to offer for Elizabeth. 'I would only tell her about my own heart,' he decided. To him, his marriage was solely for love, and that was the end of the matter.

"Who is it you are marrying, brother?" Georgiana asked before Darcy could begin to allay her worry.

"Her name is Elizabeth Bennet. Her father owns a small estate in Hertfordshire." Darcy was surprised to see an immediate easing of his sister's expression when he mentioned Elizbeth's name.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet! Oh... now I understand!" Georgiana grinned suddenly. "I had wondered... just a little bit..." The grin widened, and she continued. "... when you wrote about her in your letters from Netherfield. If I recall correctly, you very much enjoyed her performance on the piano. So... while all of this... umm... still appears to be quite sudden... but I do understand, brother. I wish you all the joy in the world."

Darcy felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw his sister come forward to give him an exuberant hug.

"Thank you very much, my dear. Our decision was sudden indeed, and to be honest, it happened only because of Miss Bingley's desire to leave Netherfield so abruptly. That day, as I stood watching the trunks being loaded in the carriages, it hit me like a sledgehammer that, I would almost certainly never see Elizabeth again. I... could not leave without seeing her one more time. But when I went to meet her... I found myself asking for her hand... and... well here we are," Darcy summarised succinctly. He grimaced inwardly as he realised that, for someone who despised deception, he appeared to be imitating Wickham's methods far too frequently.

"Oh, how very romantic, Fitzwilliam. When am I going to meet Miss Elizabeth?" Georgiana clapped her hands in eagerness.

Darcy was a little taken aback by how easily he had been able to convince his sister of his story. 'If only it were this easy to persuade Uncle Harry and Aunt Susan of my decision,' he thought wistfully. But then his darling sister was very young and was still believed that he could not do any wrong! She was also unconcerned and unaffected by any societal ramifications of his marriage, but not so his Fitzwilliam relatives. 'Ah... well!'

"Umm... I suppose in about a month, at the time of the wedding, Georgie. We... er... Elizabeth and I did not see the need to wait any longer than was necessary to make suitable arrangements."

Georgiana had never seen her brother appear so sheepish, and she hid a grin behind her hand at what she assumed to be his impatience to marry his beloved Elizabeth.

"Hmm... I consider it to be a very wise decision, Fitzwilliam. Knowing Aunt Catherine, I would not put it past her to create obstacles in your path. It is best not to give her too much time to react to your announcement."

Darcy was much struck by his sister's words. While he had known that his aunt would be upset with his news, he had not thought her unbalanced enough to actually try to prevent his marriage. However, Georgie's suggestion made him realise that there was a distinct possibility of such an occurrence. 'I will have to be very careful of when to send the notice to the newspapers,' he thought grimly.

~§§§~

Darcy waited for three days before going to Matlock House to inform his aunt and uncle of his impending nuptials. In these three days, he worked with his solicitor to finalise the marriage settlement. It had taken a few iterations to refine the document to his satisfaction. He had also visited Doctors Commons to apply for a special licence.

Just as he was about to leave for his uncle's house, he went to his study, took out the licence from a locked drawer, and perused it for the umpteenth time since obtaining it the day before. He brushed his thumb over Elizabeth's name on the paper and a sense of satisfaction settled in his heart. Although he knew that he could withstand any opposition from his relatives to his decision to marry Elizabeth, it was comforting to have all the documents in his hands – they lent his decision an aura of irrevocability.

With a sigh, he put the licence back into the drawer. He truly did not want to be at odds with his family and could only hope that his trust in his aunt understanding his heart and her ability to influence his uncle was not misplaced. Aunt Susan was the closest thing he had had to a mother since his own passed away years ago.

He decided to walk down to Matlock House. Although the weather was cold, the brisk walk invigorated him. As he walked, he considered what he would say when he was inevitably asked, 'Why Elizabeth?' Why the poorly dowered daughter of a country squire when he could have chosen any young women from the crème de la crème of London society? He wondered why he found her irresistible when he had little trouble resisting even the most alluring beauties of the ton. The answer, when it came, surprised him very much.

The stark truth was that he had not done much resisting per se! In the nearly eight years he had been 'out' in society, he had met many alluring women who had stimulated his physical senses. And, while most young women he met vacuously treated even the most banal of his statements as profound wisdom, he had met quite a few intelligent women with delightful wit over the years. However, aside from casually considering a few of these young women as potential candidates for the future Mrs Darcy, he had never been seriously tempted to do so.

That all changed when he met Elizabeth less than two months ago. She was not conventionally beautiful, but her bright green eyes, mischievous smile, and pleasing figure together stirred his blood, and her sparkling wit stimulated his mind. She was a unique combination of allure and wit that he found impossible to resist. Additionally, the selfless concern and affection she showed her family had made him yearn to be part of the circle of those she considered her own. He took a deep breath of satisfaction, knowing that he could now properly put into words what was in his heart.

By this time, the edifice of Matlock House was already visible. The main door was open, and a carriage bearing the Matlock crest appeared to be waiting nearby for passengers. As he got closer to the house, he noticed his cousin, Lady Emmeline, hurrying out the front door. Emmeline Fitzwilliam was the youngest of the Earl of Matlock's four children. She smiled as she noticed her cousin walking up to their house. "Darcy! You are back from your sojourn in Hertfordshire. I wish I could stay and listen to how you bore Miss Bingley's constant toadying, but unfortunately, I have to go as Minna is expecting me." Minna, being so addressed, was Emmeline's elder sister, Lady Minerva.

Darcy hoped his relief did not show on his face. Emmeline, like her brother Richard, had a sunny disposition and was rather fond of teasing people, especially her 'serious cousin Darcy'. For his part, Darcy was fond of his cousins, but today his anxiety made him reluctant to have either of them near him when he told his aunt and uncle about Elizabeth. He needed all of his wits about him, and the brother-sister duo was a distraction that was best avoided for now.

"I understand Emmeline, but there will be another time." His cousin smiled, and then, with a wave of her hand, she made her way to the carriage.

Give my regards to Minerva," Darcy called after her, and waited until the carriage pulled away from the curb before entering Matlock House.

~§§§~

Lord Matlock stared at his nephew as if the young man had grown another head since arriving at Matlock House more than half an hour ago.

"To be married to an unknown country miss! In less than a month?" The Earl said blankly. Like the very intelligent man he was, he had swiftly identified the salient points from the tale Darcy had painstakingly narrated in half an hour.

"Did you suddenly decide at the ripe age of twenty-eight, Fitzwilliam, that you wanted to sow your wild oats after all? And like an idiot, you chose a gentleman's daughter for the deed?"

On hearing the dreadful suggestion, Darcy and Lady Matlock protested at the same time.

"I think you know me better than that, sir!"

"Harry! You talk as if you do not know Fitzwilliam."

The earl ignored Darcy and turned to his wife. "Well, I do not claim to understand him all that well, but I thought that I knew him. But Susan, what else am I supposed to think when I am told that my nephew, who for eight years has been the despair of every matchmaking mama and her hopeful daughter, has decided to marry the daughter of an obscure and impoverished country squire, barely two months after laying eyes on the young woman?"

"Well... when you put it like that..." Lady Matlock's voice trailed off hesitantly.

"How else would you put it?" The Earl challenged his wife.

"That... Fitzwilliam has finally fallen head over ears in love with a woman of beauty and character?" Lady Matlock tried valiantly to be supportive of her nephew, but she could not keep her own doubts from creeping into her voice.

"Finally fallen on his head appears more like it!" Lord Matlock grumbled, and his wife hastily turned a chuckle into a cough.

"I really do not know what you are doing, Darcy. I thought you were well on your way to start courting Lady Sarah," Lord Matlock complained. The young lady he had mentioned was the youngest daughter of his friend, the duke of Avon. The fact that their wives were also good friends had made all four of them quite desirous of the match.

"After sharing one dance and two dinners with her in a span of three months?" Darcy asked incredulously.

"And why not, Darcy? I am certain that starting to court a beautiful young lady of impeccable lineage three months after being introduced is more sensible than marrying a young woman of questionable background after the same time." The earl said testily, then all of sudden, he asked Darcy, "Just out of curiosity, how many times have you danced and supped with this Miss Bennet of yours?"

Prudently ignoring the very pertinent question from his uncle, Darcy chose to protest instead. "There is nothing questionable about Elizabeth's background. She is the daughter of a gentleman."

"And, if I understood it correctly, she has ties to trade from her mother's side." Lord Matlock raised an imperious eyebrow.

"But I love Elizabeth."

"Pah... you have no idea what you are talking about," the earl muttered dismissively. "Your generation does not appear to understand that your elders know more of the world and its workings. In our time, we..."

"... dared our fathers to disown us for defying their edicts not to marry the daughter of the local parson? Because in our generation we knew what we were talking about when we claimed that we were in love?" Darcy enquired politely. He felt a twinge of guilt when he saw his uncle look gob-smacked, but then he hardened his heart. He needed the help of his aunt and uncle for Elizabeth's quick acceptance in the ton and he was not above using some emotional manipulation for the purpose.

"Really, Susan, what have you been telling the children?" Lord Matlock blustered.

"Excuse me, my lord, but what gave you the odd idea that I would ever discuss our marriage with the children?" Lady Matlock asked imperiously.

"Er... I am sorry, my dear. Since I had not talked to them about it, I assumed, wrongly of course," Harry Fitzwilliam clarified hurriedly before continuing, "that you must have enlightened them..."

"Well, father could have always told them."

"Oh!" Lord Matlock's eyes widened as realisation struck. "The old man really could not hold his tongue when he was in cups," he complained.

"I know of a few others who suffer from the same malady," Darcy muttered sotto voce.

"Eh? Did you say something, Darcy? Speak louder for heaven's sakes," the earl said irritably. Lady Matlock, who was sitting nearer to Darcy and heard his words, hid a smile behind her hand. It was a standing joke in their family as to how expansive and garrulous her husband grew if he ever had more than two glasses of his favourite brandy at a stretch.

"Umm... just that grandfather did say he was rather proud of you for defying him and marrying a woman of so much sense and character."

"Oh..." The earl appeared pleased with the intelligence.

"But, my dear boy, there is a huge difference between your situation and mine," he protested, although less vigorously than before. "I had known Susan my entire life. At least since I was five years old and she was a toddler of two!"

"I know that, sir, but a time or two in your life it just so happens that you know your heart in a matter of moments..."

As Lady Matlock sat listening to her husband and Darcy continue to argue on the matter, her mind went back to the last letter she had received from her dearest friend and sister, Anne Darcy fourteen years ago. It had been a difficult period for them both; she had suffered a miscarriage around that time, and Anne, who had never been very robust after Georgiana's birth, had caught a chill that had first developed into a fever and then pneumonia. Despite coming from a woman, who most likely knew that she was not of this earth for long, the letter was full of cheer and had clearly been written to encourage her to come out of her melancholia. It was only in the last paragraph that Anne had written of her apprehensions and hopes.

'While Mr Blackmoore, the physician George insisted be called from London, has been very encouraging to me, I know all is not as it should be with my health. I can read it in George's scared eyes, although he tries his best to appear carefree. Sometimes the ability to read your husband like a book, my dear Susan, is not always such a boon. Now I know that I have scared you as well, Susan, but please do not worry. I promise you that I will not leave this earth without putting up a good fight. I have all of you to think about! However, if... heaven forbid, something happens to me, my very own Susan, promise me that you will look after my children like your own. I do not worry so much for Georgie as both George and William dote on her, but my reserved, shy son has the habit of opening up his heart only to me. Unfortunately, William is so much in awe of his father that I am afraid that he will never share his pain, fears, or insecurities with George. So, please, my friend, try to be his confidante. Then I will know there is at least one person in the world with whom he can share his feelings.'

Lady Matlock and her husband had left the very next day for Pemberley, arriving there four days after the receipt of Lady Anne's letter. They did not, however, arrive on time. Susan Fitzwilliam regretted to this day that she had been so preoccupied with her own loss that she had not been present to comfort her sister in her final days. A sister who had been the only one in their family to support Harry and her, when everyone else in the Fitzwilliam clan had been against the marriage of the future Earl of Matlock with the daughter of a lowly parson.

Lady Matlock sighed as she once more remembered her desolation when she knew that Anne was no more. The only mode of atonement she had found was to diligently keep the promise she had given to Anne on the day of her funeral. 'Go in peace, Anne. I promise you, from this day onwards, I have six children, not four.'

~§§§~

Like The Gentleman He Was