A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (19 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Logic told Darcy not to expect any difficulty in getting Mr. Bennet’s permission to marry Elizabeth, but he was filled with relief when Mr. Bennet said, “Yes, of course you have my permission. I’m glad to see such long-standing affection in a suitor for my daughter’s hand. Kitty and Lydia both wed quickly enough to make a father’s heart uneasy.”

“Long standing affection?” Darcy repeated. Had Elizabeth told her father about his failed attempt to court her?

“I agree that Lizzy is wonderful, but you aren’t going to tell me you fell in love with her in the less than twenty-four hours since you called yesterday. I can only assume your affection is born of your time together at Rosings.”

“Staying at Rosings helped,” Darcy admitted, glad Mr. Bennet didn’t know of his humiliating first proposal. Besides, there was another issue they must discuss. “As I shall now frequent Hertfordshire, I must ask what people are saying about me? Sir William thinks I’m a hero and I’ve never seen Mrs. Bennet so welcoming.”

“I think the gist of it is that you knew Wickham’s character was bad, but you refused to tell the world about him in the hopes that he’d reformed. You also didn’t think it was fair to use the weight of your wealth and position to give a bad name to the man who was your father’s favorite.” Mr. Bennet grinned, his clear enjoyment in telling the story giving Darcy a fair guess as to who put out that interpretation of events. “When you discovered that Lydia was in danger of being abducted, you got on your horse and rode across country to rescue her. You discovered Mr. Pratt was her one true love, and the two of you rescued her. Wickham left the country to die on a foreign battlefield to avoid fighting a duel with you.”

“I discovered Miss Lydia was in danger because she wrote her sister that she was eloping. If she was eloping, she wasn’t abducted,” Darcy protested. “This all also ignores the facts that there were four of us in the rescue and most of the trip was by coach.”

“Ah, but your modesty and natural reserve keep you from giving all the details.”

“I don’t care for the idea of letting a lie stand, but the details would harm Mrs. Pratt. Neither you, your wife and daughters, or Captain Pratt deserve that.”

“I agree,” Mr. Bennet said, his smile broadening. “It seems you must let the story stand. Don’t worry overmuch. Everyone knows they don’t have the whole story. It pleases them to make you a hero.”

“I don’t want to be a hero, especially not for something I didn’t really do,” Darcy said.

“That, as well as what you actually did, makes me think you deserving of the label,” Mr. Bennet said with more seriousness than he’d yet shown. “You and Elizabeth will never live here, only visit. Hopefully it won’t bother you excessively to keep silent on the matter.”

Darcy nodded and they moved on to the happier subject of details about his upcoming wedding.

In spite of his reluctant acceptance of what Mr. Bennet had done concerning his reputation, Darcy found the time he spent in Hertfordshire a trial. He’d been deferred to in the past because of his wealth and connections, but this was the first time he’d ever been treated as a hero. He found it disconcerting, and not simply because it seemed to make him more approachable. It stirred guilt inside him, to be given credit for something he hadn’t accomplished.

“It’s not a sensation I’m accustomed to or comfortable with,” he said to Elizabeth one day, after attempting to explain how he felt. It had been more than a week since his proposal, and there were still two Sundays before they could wed. They were on what had become their daily walk, trailing well behind Bingley and Jane. “I have no notion what to do regarding it, however.”

“I’m afraid you shall simply have to accept it,” she said, smiling up at him. “The honor and principles which invoke such guilt in you will never allow you to gainsay the rumors.”

“I’ve never expended so much effort worrying over a rumor,” he said, shaking his head.

“Exactly, so why begin now? If you never troubled yourself to care about or correct uncomplimentary rumors, why worry over one that praises you? Look at it as restoring balance.”

He narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t call being labeled a hero balance.

“As I see it, you should ignore all rumors, good or bad,” she continued.

A slight vehemence in her tone gave him pause. “We aren’t still speaking of the rumor that I’m a hero, are we?”

“In a way we are.” Her smile turned wry. “The new rumor is that you shall toss me over for Jane. Popular opinion says you should be rewarded by marrying her. She is prettier and much nicer than I am. She should be your reward.”

He stopped walking and caught her hand, pulling her around to face him. With a quick glance to make sure Bingley and Jane Bennet were well ahead of them and still walking, Darcy pulled Elizabeth into his arms. “There is no one prettier than you,” he said, leaning close to whisper the words in her ear.

She shivered slightly and turned her head so their lips almost met. “No one? I think perhaps you exaggerate.”

“No one to me,” he said, silencing any further protest on her part with a kiss.

When they resumed walking, she glanced askance at him, her smile back in place. “So I may assume you don’t wish to wed Jane.” This time, her tone held only amusement.

“I admire your sister, but I don’t want to marry her.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I would hate to be jealous of Jane.”

“More important considerations aside, Bingley would never forgive me if I married your sister,” he added.

“Is he planning to do anything about his attraction to her, or is he going to stay long enough to raise her hopes and then leave her?” Elizabeth asked with a bit of asperity in her voice.

“Bingley is taking his time. He wants to be certain.”

“His uncertainty is making me nervous,” she said. “I never sympathized with my mother’s claim that her nerves bother her, but my concern for Jane casts a pall over what should be the happiest time in my life.”

“Truly?” He asked. He didn’t like the idea of a pall, but he was irrationally pleased to hear her call their days together the happiest time in her life.

“Some.” She glanced at him again. “I must admit, I’ve come into partial agreement with your point of view. In one thing especially you were completely correct; if he doesn’t love Jane enough to take the step, perhaps they shouldn’t marry.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Darcy said. As the words left his mouth, it occurred to him that his heart was now completely hers. In spite of months of refusing to say anything that might unfairly influence Bingley to propose to Jane Bennet, he’d offered almost eagerly. He realized he would do most anything to spare Elizabeth pain.

“No, you were right about that as well,” she said. She made a face, as if she couldn’t believe her own words. “You shouldn’t push him into a marriage he doesn’t really want.”

“Does your sister love him?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’ve been observing her carefully for the last few days, and I believe she does. I think it’s even more difficult to tell than before because Jane is afraid to open herself to heartbreak again, uncertain if he returns her sentiment.”

Darcy nodded, resolved to speak to Bingley when the chance next presented itself. He wouldn’t be pushing, but rather fulfilling the role Bingley had asked him to there to take. Someone had to end the absurdity of Bingley waiting to propose until he knew that Jane Bennet loved him, and Miss Bennet waiting to show her feelings until she knew her heart wouldn’t be broken again. The way the two of them were, they would never manage to be happy. “Do you know what I think?” he asked, taking Elizabeth’s hand in his.

“I most assuredly do not,” she replied.

“I think we should spend less time speaking of other people’s affections and more time practicing our own.” With that, he pulled her into his arms once again.

The following morning found Darcy and Bingley eating breakfast alone, as was typical. Impatient to broach the subject of Miss Jane Bennet, Darcy waited only until they’d served themselves from the sideboard and sat. “You asked me to come with you to look over your shoulder. I’ve done so,” he said.

“Considering your engagement to Miss Elizabeth, that’s not all you’ve done,” Bingley said. “I wonder if that’s the real reason you came.”

His tone had a touch of annoyance that Darcy didn’t normally associate with the cheerful Mr. Bingley. “I came for both reasons,” Darcy said.

“Your engagement contradicts some of your former arguments against Jane.”

Yes, Bingley was definitely cross with him. “Your sisters argued against her family. I was more concerned that she didn’t appear to love you.”

“You spoke of her family.”

“I did,” Darcy allowed. “I said that you should take into consideration that they would be an embarrassment to you, but with the two youngest sisters now married, that is less of a problem. I also expressed concern that you might have to support Mrs. Bennet and any unwed sisters when Mr. Bennet eventually passes. Since Elizabeth is marrying someone clearly able to support Mrs. Bennet and her remaining two unmarried daughters, that is no longer an obstacle to marriage.”

“Two unmarried daughters?” Bingley asked.

“Mary and Jane,” Darcy said. “Of course, I’ll never be required to support Jane. She’s attractive enough that when she decides to wed, she will have plenty of choices. She may not be able to marry a gentleman, but there are merchants and attorneys who would be delighted to have a beautiful wife who is the daughter of one.”

“Merchants and attorneys?” Bingley’s voice rose in volume and agitation.

“Well, she lives in a rather restricted society. However, once Elizabeth and I are married, we’ll certainly invite her to Pemberley. I also feel she should join Elizabeth when we go to London this winter. There are quite a number of men who would be delighted to marry someone with her beauty and temperament. You are correct. There’s no reason to relegate her to merchants and attorneys before bringing her to London for a season or two.”

“London?” Bingley bit out, glaring across the table.

“It’s for the best. I don’t think Miss Bennet will be content to be a burden to her family. If given the opportunity, she’ll find a husband she can tolerate. Of course, Elizabeth thinks Jane loves you. I thought you loved her, as you said, but you don’t seem to be eager to do anything about it, so I can only assume you’ve had a change of heart. In that case, and as she’s my future sister, I must ask you not to toy with the lady’s affections any longer.”

“Toy with her affections?” Bingley sputtered. “I love her.”

Darcy lifted his cup to take a sip of coffee, regarding Bingley over the rim. He set it down, unable to keep his amusement from his face any longer.

Bingley pushed back his chair, his food untouched. “Is it too early to call?”

“It would be better to wait until she’s awake,” Darcy said.

Chapter Twenty

Elizabeth sat down to dinner with her parents, Jane, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. It was a celebratory occasion, and one which lightened her heart considerably. That morning, just as they’d finished breakfast, Mr. Bingley had marched up to their front door and demanded to see Jane. Before the plates had been cleared from the table, the two were engaged.

“Two daughters wed and two soon to be,” Elizabeth’s mother cried as she took her place at the foot of the table. “Nothing will ever rival my happiness. Remember this, Mr. Bennet. Remember I said it. Nothing could ever be so pleasing as this.”

“Oh Mama,” Jane said, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Elizabeth’s father said. “I shall endeavor to recall these words of yours with the sureness I apply to recalling all of your utterances.”

“Mr. Bennet, you torment me so,” her mother wailed. “With guests to witness it. My future sons, no less! What a terrible man you are, Mr. Bennet.”

“I daresay I am,” Elizabeth’s father said, applying himself to his meal.

“Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy,” her mother said. “Did I tell you that Mary wrote? It seems Miss de Bourgh is paying her fifty pounds every month! Fifty pounds! Mary says she is trying to please Miss de Bourgh by reading a variety of books. She finds them very enlightening.” Her mother took out the letter. “She wrote, that
Reading makes a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man.
Isn’t that clever of her?”

Elizabeth exchanged an amused glance with Darcy, glad to see he also recognized the quotation. At least Mary’s views were being expanded. She didn’t doubt Anne’s willpower, but she wasn’t sure there would be as much success in Mary’s case as there had been in Kitty’s.

Her mother continued to expound on how wonderful Miss de Bourgh was. Elizabeth and Jane spent a good deal of time talking with her so that their father could carry on an intelligent conversation with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth hoped their future husbands appreciated what she and Jane were doing.

Near the end of the meal, her mother went silent, taking in the three men speaking quietly together at the other end of the table. “But look at me, speaking endlessly of Miss de Bourgh when the truly wonderful person in our lives is Mr. Bingley,” she said.

Mr. Bingley turned his head at the sound of his name and Elizabeth shook hers. Acknowledgment was all that was needed to encourage her mother’s rambling.

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Bennet?” Bingley asked.

“I said, you are the most wonderful of men, Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth’s mother said. “Why, to be so steadfast as to return for our Jane after all this time. You must have such a warm heart, such devotion.”

Mr. Bingley shot a look at Jane, clearly embarrassed. “Ah, thank you, Mrs. Bennet.”

“What other man would have returned? Who would have been so very brave as to admit he’d been wrong to leave the first time and come back? Such a fine gentleman you are, Mr. Bingley.”

“Mama,” Elizabeth and Jane said in unison. Elizabeth cast her father a beseeching glance, but she could tell by the amusement on his face that he was enjoying the scene too much to put a stop to it.

“And I must apologize to you, Mr. Bingley, for some of the things I may have inadvertently thought in regards to your suitability and honor,” her mother continued. “Why, if I’d but known how steadfast you’d prove, I would have defended you to the grave, even to myself.”

Mr. Bingley’s face took on a pained expression. “There is no need to apologize, I’m sure.”

“I’m so pleased you proved yourself to be the most wonderful of men. When I saw you come rushing over this morning, I knew you’d come to your senses,” her mother continued.

Across the table from Elizabeth, Jane looked down at her plate, her cheeks red.

“That’s Mr. Bingley, I said to myself,” her mother said. “I know why he’s here. Such an honest, honorable gentleman has surely realized that he’s breaking my poor Jane’s heart and he’s come to put that right.”

“Darcy,” Bingley choked out. “It was Darcy. He made me aware that it was time to propose.”

Elizabeth turned incredulous eyes on her finance. “Did he?” she asked.

How could he? She’d expressly asked him not to tell Bingley to marry Jane. She didn’t want her sister to have a husband who only found her desirable enough at the recommendation of his friend. She’d thought Bingley had proposed out of love, not reason. Whatever would she tell Jane? She couldn’t let her marry him. Being wedded to a man who didn’t love her would break her gentle heart.

“Mr. Darcy!” her mother cried. “I should have known we had you to thank for this. Oh, what a fine example of a man you are. I knew it from the start, of course. No one can say I didn’t.”

Darcy looked to her hopefully, but Elizabeth was in no mood to save him. She was so livid over him getting Bingley to propose where there was no firm resolve to, she didn’t even want to look at him.

“Mr. Darcy, you are so nice to my daughters,” her mother gushed. “You are responsible for the marriages of four of them and now Mary may be able to save enough for a nice dowry. How can I ever thank you?”

Darcy’s look became more pleading and Elizabeth stood. She may not want to help him, but she was too angry with him not to be allowed to speak. “Mr. Darcy, I’m sure you would like to see the painting in the hall.”

“Certainly,” he said, rising as well. “If you’ll excuse me, please?” he said to the table at large.

“But, Elizabeth, we’re still dining. Can’t it wait?” her mother said.

“Mr. Darcy is so found of hunting, Mama, and soon there will be so little light in the hall. I think it must be now.”

“Well, off with you then,” her mother said. “Don’t be too long. You won’t want to keep Mr. Darcy from his port. Your father has a fine bottle open to celebrate Jane’s engagement.”

“Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth said, her anger increasing. What had Darcy done? Jane would have to marry Mr. Bingley now, she realized. Jane would wed, and Elizabeth would spend a lifetime trying to keep it from her that her husband didn’t love her as much as she loved him. She turned and stomped from the room.

Elizabeth could hear Mr. Darcy following her, but she didn’t slow. She didn’t stop in the hall beside the ridiculous bird painting, but went straight out the front door into the fading daylight. She wasn’t sure she would be able to keep her voice low enough for speaking in the hall. Not with the conversation she planned to have.

“Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, coming up alongside her.

She lengthened her stride, aware that her breath was ragged. She didn’t know which was worse, the pain she felt for her sister, her anger, or her utter disappointment in Darcy, the man she’d agreed to spend the remainder of her life with.

“Elizabeth.” Darcy grasped her arm, halting her. “You’re angry?”

He sounded confused. Of course he did. He wouldn’t see that he’d done anything wrong. He was Mr. Darcy and infallible. How had she been fooled into thinking he’d changed from their first meeting?

She pulled her arm away, wrapping both around herself. Turning toward the glory of the sunset, she closed her eyes. She couldn’t look on such beauty with so much anger.

Darcy moved to stand at her shoulder. “Why are you angry with me?” he asked.

“You truly don’t know?”

“I have no notion at all.”

She sighed, opening her eyes. A glance over her shoulder showed him quite close. She looked away, back toward the setting sun. “You made Bingley propose to Jane. I agreed with you. I came around to your thinking and said you were right all along not to tell him to wed her and specifically requested you not do so, and you went and did it, just as you pleased.”

“You think that I persuaded Bingley to propose to your sister and that now she will marry a man who doesn’t love her?”

She nodded, willing herself not to cry. Poor Jane.

“Then I am angry with you as well,” he said.

Elizabeth swung around to face him, dropping her arms to her sides. “What?”

“Or perhaps I mean hurt?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“You are angry with me? Why? Did you expect I should swoon with gratitude for your highhandedness?”

“No.”

She narrowed her eyes. Was he trying not to smile? The man was insufferable. “Why then?”

“Because you have so very little faith in me, Elizabeth.”

“So little . . .” She shook her head. “You mean for me to believe that you didn’t tell Bingley to wed Jane? But he said as much, only moments ago.”

“I believe he said that I made him aware that it was time for him to propose.”

“I fail to see the difference,” she said stiffly.

“I did not suggest Bingley wed your sister,” Darcy said firmly. “At breakfast, I expounded on my plans for Jane.”

“Your plans?” Was he trying to be confusing? No, there was a glint of amusement lurking in his eyes. He was pleased with himself.

“Well, perhaps I mean our plans,” he said, looking down at her. “How we would have your sister come live with us, where we would invite over suitable suitors. Likewise, we would take her to London for the season, a place where her beauty and poise would be sure to attract notice.”

“You told Bingley that? At breakfast?” She’d no idea Darcy could be so cunning.

“I expounded on it at moderate length before he grew so incensed he couldn’t help but stop me.”

“Why, Mr. Darcy, you’re devious,” Elizabeth said, truly startled.

“So, you see, I did not tell Bingley to marry your sister. I merely suggested that we find someone who was willing to.”

Elizabeth felt her face heat. She’d been completely foolish. She groaned, covering her face with her hands. She’s jumped straight to the worst possible interpretation of Mr. Bingley’s words and maligned Mr. Darcy unpardonably. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I daresay you should be,” he said.

His smug tone was too much. She dropped her hands to glare at him, only to find him smiling down at her. “You’re insufferable,” she said.

“Insufferably lovable?” he asked. His eyes took on that intent look, stealing her breath away. “You care so much about your sister marrying for love. It is my hope you also pursue that dream for yourself, because I love you, Elizabeth.”

A thrill went through her at his words. She opened her mouth to reply in kind, but then snapped it closed again.

“Elizabeth?” he prompted, his tone touched with worry.

“You signed your letter with Fitzwilliam, but your cousins call you Darcy,” she blurted. “No one ever calls you anything but Darcy. How can I tell you how much I love you when I don’t know what you want to be called?”

“Then you do love me?” He grinned.

Elizabeth had never seen more than a smile curve Darcy’s lips before, and now he was grinning at her. He dropped his head, obviously intent on kissing her.

“I do. I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, now and always.” She closed her eyes, the lingering rays of sunlight warm on her cheek, and leaned into his kiss.

~ The End ~