Truth about Mr. Darcy (16 page)

Georgiana gaped at him. How could her brother ask this of her? How could he expect her to comply with such a highly improper request—especially when Elizabeth was clearly in emotional distress and, therefore, most vulnerable? She hesitated and then heard Darcy’s voice, more commanding this time, as he said again, “Leave us, Georgiana. I must speak privately with Elizabeth.” When still she did not move, Darcy turned on her, his eyes flashing. “I said go!”

Georgiana flinched. She had not seen that particular look on her brother’s face since last summer, at Ramsgate. She began backing slowly toward the door to the sitting room and, when she reached it, cast one last, reluctant look at the man who was more like a father to her than a brother, before finally fleeing the room.

Georgiana ran until she reached the family wing and then entered her own sitting room, pacing the length of it for nearly three-quarters of an hour. She was concerned for Elizabeth, but also for her brother. She had not missed the look in Elizabeth’s eyes, nor misinterpreted it, any more than she had been blind to the panic and pain in Darcy’s. Wondering if enough time had passed for the two to have resolved their differences, she decided to adjourn to her brother’s sitting room to see if he had retired. When she reached his chambers, however, she was met by his valet, Mr. Stevens.

“I am sorry, Miss Darcy, but my master is not in his rooms.”

Georgiana’s brows furrowed. “Oh. Well, then I shall wait, Mr. Stevens. It is very late. I am sure he cannot be long.”

Having known Miss Darcy since she was a small girl, the valet smiled, wishing to shield her from what he surely knew would bring her little pleasure. “Forgive me, miss, but I do believe my master may be quite a while yet. I know he would not wish you to wait up for him. The last several nights Mr. Darcy has had much to attend to and has retired very late.”

Frowning, Georgiana uttered, “Of course. He must be in his study, then. I will just go to him there. I am certain he would not mind my bothering him.”

A fleeting look of alarm passed over Mr. Stevens’s face as he moved to detain her. “Miss Darcy,” he said, his voice firm, “I would not disturb my master in his study.”

“Why not, Mr. Stevens?” she asked.

Mr. Stevens sighed. “My dear girl, I beg your pardon, but I am not at liberty to speak without betraying my allegiance to Mr. Darcy; however, as I also know my master would not wish for you to come upon him unawares, I must entreat you to return to your room and to forget about speaking with him tonight. I regret to inform you that my master will not be available to anyone until the morning.”

Georgiana stared at him. “But I know my brother to have been with Miss Bennet not an hour ago.”

The valet averted his eyes and nodded. “Yes, miss.”

Comprehension suddenly dawned upon her, and swallowing hard, she asked, “My brother has not slept in his rooms for several nights, has he, Mr. Stevens?” Seeing the man’s obvious discomfort, Georgiana added, “Never mind. Good night, Mr. Stevens.” She turned to go then, her heart heavy as she returned to her room.

***

Darcy had just closed the door and turned when a sudden movement in the shadowy corridor caught his eye. Clad only in his shirtsleeves, breeches, and boots, he froze as he watched Mr. Bennet approach, clutching a well-worn volume of Shakespeare’s
Othello
, which Darcy recognized as one from his own collection. It was obvious by the elder gentleman’s incredulous expression and pale complexion that he had witnessed him leaving Elizabeth’s rooms. A multitude of possible explanations raced through Darcy’s mind, yet he felt unequal to uttering any of them, knowing full well Elizabeth’s father had already deduced the true purpose of his presence outside his daughter’s bedchamber.

Oddly enough, it was Mr. Bennet who was the first to regain his composure, his voice strained and tired. “Shall we retire to your study for some of your excellent brandy, Darcy? I believe I am suddenly in great need of it.” Darcy nodded almost imperceptibly and proceeded down the corridor to the staircase, Mr. Bennet following a few steps behind.

Elizabeth’s father took a long, slow mouthful of brandy from his glass in a remarkably calm fashion, while Darcy roughly threw back the contents of his own and quickly poured himself another. He took a healthy swallow and ran an unsteady hand across his lips before stationing himself at the window to look out over the square, which was just beginning to emerge from darkness. After his aunt’s visit, he had been hard-pressed to imagine his night getting any worse, yet here he was, caught red-handed by Elizabeth’s father. He could hardly believe his misfortune.

Mr. Bennet’s calm voice broke through the silence. “Am I mistaken in my assumption that the only formality that remains for your marriage to Elizabeth is the actual ceremony itself?”

Darcy was quiet for several moments. “No, sir,” he finally answered in a tightly controlled voice without turning around, “you are not mistaken in that regard.”

Mr. Bennet sat down in one of the leather chairs by the fire and ran his hands over his face, his voice unruffled. “When did this happen?”

Darcy ran his tongue over his lips, his mouth feeling like a desert. “Not quite a fortnight ago, when heavy snow kept her at Netherfield for two nights with Miss Bennet.”

“At Netherfield,” Mr. Bennet said tightly. He exhaled, clearly not pleased, but still trying to remain reasonable all the same. “And while we have been in London?”

Darcy did not respond.

“Darcy?”

He swallowed, cleared his throat, and managed to say, “She has been my wife.”

“You mean your
mistress
!”

Darcy faced him, his expression icy. “Elizabeth is my
wife
!”

Mr. Bennet remained silent, knowing if he spoke now, he would no longer be able to control his temper.

Darcy strode to his desk and withdrew several documents from a locked drawer. “My reason for quitting Hertfordshire was to obtain a special license so we might marry as soon as possible. My main reason for inviting you and your family here is so we might marry quickly in London before any news of a scandal touches us, as I am sure it eventually would. Hopefully, our marrying now will prevent it from ever happening, though there is still no guarantee. As it is, I had an unpleasant visit from my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, tonight. Apparently,” he said with undisguised contempt, “Mr. Collins has wasted no time informing her of my relationship with your daughter. To say she was less than pleased would be a gross understatement, but I shall not insult you by relating the particulars of my conversation.”

He crossed to the other side of the room and offered the documents to Elizabeth’s father, who took them. “I had my solicitor draw up the settlement for Elizabeth the other day. In the event of my death, she will be well provided for, even if she does not provide me with an heir. I arranged for ownership of the Pemberley estate to pass directly to her, as well as that of this house and all monetary assets. Though I trust you will inform me if you find anything insufficient, I believe I can say with complete confidence I know of no man who would
ever
be fool enough to make such a settlement upon a woman he considered only as his
mistress
.”

Mr. Bennet pursed his lips, biting back a sarcastic retort, and began to read through the legalities. When he came to the amount Darcy was to settle upon his daughter after their marriage became official, he drew a sharp intake of breath and, after a few minutes, said, “I realize you have ten thousand a year, young man, but can you truly afford to be so generous as to settle forty thousand pounds on my Lizzy?”

A wry grin turned the corners of Darcy’s mouth. “It appears the good people of Hertfordshire have been remiss in their speculation of my fortune. That they should think I have
only
ten thousand a year, I find excessively diverting. Pemberley, of course, takes in just over that, but if you were to include my other holdings and investments, both abroad and in Scotland, my net worth should be closer to twenty, perhaps a little more. I believe all the particulars are mentioned there in detail. And forgive my impertinence, Mr. Bennet, but
your Lizzy
is very soon to become
my wife
. Forty thousand pounds is no more than she deserves.”

Massaging the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Mr. Bennet could not but agree with him.

“I would like to marry Elizabeth by the end of the week.”

Mr. Bennet sighed. “Yes. As well you should. I see no reason to put it off any longer than that, especially given the urgency of the current situation. I do believe it would be in everyone’s best interest, however, if this conversation remained between the two of us.” Mr. Bennet rested his elbows upon the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “Do you agree with this proposal, or would you prefer I bring my wife into our confidence? It is your call, Darcy.”

Hoping, rather than assuming he had been joking, Darcy repressed a shudder as he imagined Mrs. Bennet learning he had been sharing a bed with her daughter. There was no doubt in his mind that news of the scandal would spread through the streets of London in a matter of hours. “No. On that we are in complete agreement. We need not distress Mrs. Bennet with any of the particulars.”

“No, I thought as much.” Mr. Bennet rose from his chair and made to leave. “If you will excuse me, I believe I will return to my room now for some much-needed repose.”

Just as he was about to close the door, however, Mr. Bennet turned and fixed Darcy with a stern look. “Oh, and Darcy, if you cannot remain in your own bed for a mere five nights until your wedding day, and I happen to learn of it—and make no mistake, I
will
learn of it—I daresay you will not find me quite so forgiving as I have been tonight.” And with that, Mr. Bennet stepped out into the hall, closing the door firmly behind him as Darcy fell back into the well-worn leather chair behind his desk.

Darcy did not go to bed the night of his aunt’s visit. He did not consider having shared Elizabeth’s bed as actually sleeping, particularly since those emotionally exhausting hours were mostly spent in earnest, yet painful conversation, and in reassuring her of his steadfastness, his devotion, and his ardent love. It was not a night he ever wished to repeat.

It was but a matter of moments after Georgiana had left them that Darcy’s deepest fears had been realized. It had mattered not to Elizabeth that she had already given herself to him completely—that she had become his wife, both in heart and in body, if not yet in the eyes of God—for her sweet, unsteady voice had uttered the words he had dreaded to hear above any others:
“I am sorry, Mr. Darcy, but I am afraid I can no longer agree to be your wife. I hereby release you from our engagement.”

Hearing her refer to him in so stiff and formal a manner made him feel as though a knife had been driven into his heart. It had taken Darcy nearly half the night to convince Elizabeth to reconsider taking such a rash measure, and now, as he looked back upon those wretched hours, he was not the least bit ashamed to admit he had done everything within his power to hold on to her. He could no more have stopped the tears that had threatened to fall from his eyes than he could have prevented himself from dropping to his knees as he begged her, his voice quivering with raw emotion, not to leave him. He told her of the emptiness in his life before he had met her, of how her liveliness and intelligence had brought such joy and fulfillment to his mundane existence. He told her of how the tediousness of his responsibilities and position in society would become, once more, a punishment for him if he could not gaze into her eyes every day and hold her in his arms every night. He could not bear the thought of living without her, for a life without her would be no life for him at all.

It was not until the clock had struck half past four in the early hours of the morning that Elizabeth had finally accepted another proposal from him—
My third one
, Darcy had thought with some irony—and finally, through glistening eyes, she had proclaimed, and with a passion to rival his own, what Darcy had been praying all night long to hear—that she could no more bear the thought of living without him than he could bear contemplating a life without her.

They had not made love—both were far too emotionally and physically drained for that—but, by unspoken agreement, Darcy had stayed with her, cradling Elizabeth in his arms and caressing her hair long after she had finally succumbed to sleep. When he had finally forced himself to leave the comfortable warmth of her bed, it was only to be discovered in a most untenable position by Mr. Bennet.

By the time a rather displeased, but resigned, Mr. Bennet had left Darcy alone in his study, the sun had already begun to show over the horizon. Given it was now morning, Darcy had chosen to remain there, deep in reflection and tormenting himself with what Elizabeth had been prepared to do to spare him further censure from people whose opinions he cared nothing for in the first place.
It matters not in any case,
for she must marry me now that her father has discovered the extent of our intimacy
. Darcy stifled a yawn and closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of his chair. It was then that Lord and Lady Matlock were shown into his study—at far too early an hour for polite visitation—to find him far from being at his best.

“Goodness, Nephew,” cried Lady Matlock as she took in Darcy’s haggard appearance. “You look absolutely wretched. Did you not get any sleep at all?”

Darcy rose to his feet and raked his hand through his hair. “Forgive my appearance, Aunt Rebecca. I fear your visit this morning has taken me by surprise.”

She gave him an appraising look and raised her brow. He was not wearing his tailcoat, waistcoat, or cravat. “That is apparent, Fitzwilliam.”

Lord Matlock spoke in his usual gruff manner. “Well, I certainly hope your young lady is faring better than you look, Nephew.”

Darcy averted his eyes. “I have yet to see Elizabeth this morning.”

The earl raised his brows. “Hmm. Interesting… interesting. By the look of you, I would be willing to wager a great deal that you have.”

Darcy’s head snapped up; his lips tightly pursed.

“Henry, that is enough,” Lady Matlock admonished. “We did not come here to make further accusations. We came to offer our support.”

Darcy stared at her. “You did?”

Lord Matlock grumbled. “Yes, well, I suppose your aunt is correct. We did not come to upset you, Darcy. I imagine Catherine has already done that job admirably. No, no, we came to show our support for you and your Elizabeth. Fine girl, if I do say so myself. Beautiful features, excellent mind, and a tongue as sharp as a double-edged blade! Ha-ha! I daresay you could not expect to do better if you were to court every eligible lady in the first circles of society!”

Darcy raised his chin. “I have no intention of looking elsewhere, Uncle. There is no other woman who could ever make me happy. I am to take Elizabeth as my wife by the end of the week and not a day later. We have yet to finalize all the arrangements, but I hope very much you will both attend.”

Lady Matlock smiled and moved to embrace him, placing a kiss upon his unshaven cheek. “Of course, we will be there, Fitzwilliam. We are very pleased for you, dear. I enjoyed Elizabeth’s company immensely, as did Richard. She shall make an excellent addition to our family. I should like to see her now, if I may. Which room have you given her?” Darcy told her and, before he could move to accompany her, she had quit the room, leaving him very much alone with his uncle.

“Well, Darcy, I know it is early still, but I would like to partake in some brandy. Catherine always manages to have that effect on me. Even as a girl, she drove me to my wits’ end. Meddlesome woman,” he muttered. Darcy accommodated him, pouring a glass for himself, as well, though it was not generally his habit to imbibe so early in the day. They settled into silence, nursing their drinks.

At length, the earl fixed him with a serious look. “I would speak to you, Nephew. Keep in mind now, it is not my intention to judge you. But, ah, well… Catherine has thrown out some mighty offensive accusations regarding your engagement, some of them downright vulgar—foremost, the circumstances surrounding your interest in Miss Bennet.”

Darcy opened his mouth to object, but the earl held up a hand and continued. “Save your breath, Nephew. You forget I have already seen you together. I know a love match when I see it. I had one myself with Rebecca and still do to this very day.” Here, Lord Matlock gave Darcy a significant look. “And I am not such an old man not to remember how it once felt to be a young one. My Rebecca was always a stunning woman, as is your Elizabeth. From the moment we laid eyes on each other, I wanted nothing more than to make her my wife in every sense of the word. We loved one another with a passion that consumed us, so much so that, eventually, it did not much signify to us
how
the means were achieved—or when.” Darcy quirked his brow at such an implication, and the earl cleared his throat. “However, much like your aunt, Elizabeth seems to be too much of a gentlewoman to have
initiated
… ah, well… let us just say I believe my sister is entirely in the wrong as far as your wife is concerned. You, Darcy, are another matter entirely.”

Darcy bristled and demanded, “Am I? How?”

Lord Matlock chuckled. “For starters, the way you look at her. The way you touch her—yes, Darcy, I have seen you caress her hand, her arm, the small of her back. I have seen you
innocently
pretend to brush against her—repeatedly, I might add. You were in full company, and you fooled no one, including your aunt, and Elizabeth handled it all with grace and dignity, as a well-bred wife who has a true affection for her husband would.” He gave Darcy another pointed look. “I say
wife
, Nephew, because I suspect you have already taken her as your own. Am I wrong to think it?”

Darcy stood and walked to the window. He placed his forearm against the casement, his other hand on his hip, and expelled a deep breath. Several minutes ticked by in silence before he admitted “It is true.” A moment later, however, he spun around and added, “And do not
dare
to call her my
mistress
!”

The earl considered his words with a grim countenance. “Has someone aside from your Aunt Catherine referred to her as such?”

Darcy turned away and said tightly, “Elizabeth’s father, after he discovered me leaving her room just before dawn this morning.”

Lord Matlock pursed his lips and let out a low whistle. “That could not have gone well for either of you.”

Darcy laughed ruefully. “Believe me, it went far better than it would have with any other lady’s father. Elizabeth has always been his particular favorite, and Mr. Bennet is a reasonable and, I daresay, extremely forgiving man, even under such circumstances. His daughter’s happiness is his foremost concern. In short, he has not called me out nor demanded satisfaction in any way other than to ascertain that I hold Elizabeth in the highest regard and will restrain myself from any further
contact
with her until after we exchange our vows on Saturday. She has yet to learn of his knowledge of our situation. I would, of course, prefer she does not.”

The earl nodded and asked, “And he is the only one you know of who has discovered this facet of your relationship, aside from Catherine and her parson?”

“I… after Lady Catherine left last night I went to Elizabeth in her room. Georgiana was with her. I confess myself to have been so furious with my aunt and so concerned for what Elizabeth was suffering, I gave very little thought to propriety. I soon became so caught up in offering my comfort to Elizabeth, I had completely forgotten Georgiana was present, witnessing my attentions. Though nothing scandalous took place between Elizabeth and me in her presence, per se, I believe she now suspects something of the truth. At one point”—and here Darcy hesitated, his voice becoming hoarse—“at one point Elizabeth withdrew from me. She had such a look of sorrow and hopelessness in her eyes. I was terrified she was going to break our engagement. I could not… I could not think, for the fear that gripped me. I demanded Georgiana leave us, which she reluctantly did, but only after I had lost my temper.” He walked a few paces and slammed his fist against the wall. “Would to
God
that I had been more careful!”

Lord Matlock rose and went to Darcy, placing his hand upon his shoulder. “Darcy, what has been done is done. Unfortunately, you must now deal with the repercussions of your actions. Like I said, your aunt and I can be counted on to welcome Elizabeth into society, as can your cousins. Should any rumors get out, we will do all in our power to quell them. Once they have the pleasure of meeting your Elizabeth, I very much doubt many members of our circle will believe any of it anyway. It shall be dismissed as malicious gossip and die a quick death. Any reverberation will not be of a long duration, and neither of you will have to bear this alone, my boy. Therefore, do not worry yourself over it any further. All will be well.” Lord Matlock embraced him, clapping him upon the back.

Darcy returned the gesture with no little emotion. “Thank you, Uncle.”

***

Lady Matlock knocked upon the door to Elizabeth’s rooms and waited. “Elizabeth?” she called. “It is Lady Matlock. I would very much like to speak with you, my dear.”

The door opened, and Elizabeth appeared. Though she was dressed far more appropriately to receive visitors than Darcy had been, she happened to have the same worn, defeated look about her Darcy had exhibited when his aunt had first seen him earlier. It pained Lady Matlock no less to see it on Elizabeth’s lovely features than it had to see it upon the face of her nephew. She smiled kindly and stepped into the room. “Well, my dear, I believe you have had a rather trying night, have you not?”

Elizabeth managed a weak smile and averted her eyes. “Will you not sit down, your ladyship?” she asked as she indicated a small sofa and several chairs in the sitting room.

Lady Matlock took a seat upon the sofa and indicated that Elizabeth should join her. Taking her hands in her own, she said, “It would please me very much if you would call me Aunt, Elizabeth, especially since I have just spoken with my nephew regarding your marriage. From what I understand, you are to become my niece sooner than we expected.”

Elizabeth blushed and bowed her head.

Lady Matlock gave her hands a squeeze. “I know my saying so can be of little consolation after what has so recently occurred, but Lady Catherine can hardly lay claim to a reputation for affability and warmth. It was her dearest wish that Fitzwilliam marry her daughter, Anne, though, I must say it was by no means his wish any more than it was Anne’s. Elizabeth, you must understand, my nephew could have chosen the most affluent, well-connected young lady in all of England to be his bride, and still, my sister-in-law would have found some unfounded reason to berate his choice for the simple reason it was not
hers.
You must not dwell on what was said last night, my dear, for it matters not to Lord Matlock and me what has occurred privately between you and my nephew, so long as you have found love and joy with each other. To those of us who truly care for your happiness, nothing else can be of any significance.”

Elizabeth was too stunned to speak.

Lady Matlock smiled as she added, “I must say, I am almost relieved Catherine did not approve of you, for if she had, I would have been forced to question Fitzwilliam’s soundness of mind. You see, he and my sister-in-law have never shared the same tastes, the same opinions, or the same ideals. Yes, I am, indeed, delighted to be gaining such a lovely niece! And your marriage cannot come too soon for our family, I am afraid.”

Elizabeth’s expression showed her puzzlement, but Lady Matlock only continued to smile as she explained, “Thus far, Georgiana and Anne have been our only girls. I believe they found their childhood rather trying at times due to the exuberance of their male cousins and their overactive imaginations. To be always teased by such spirited young men can be an experience, to say the least.”