Truth about Mr. Darcy (19 page)

Elizabeth flushed, as well, and raised her hand to his cheek. A slow smile warmed Darcy’s features. “Do you have any idea how exquisite you look this evening?” he murmured as his lips caressed her palm.

Elizabeth leaned toward him and placed a kiss upon his lips. “Indeed,” she whispered, “I would not know, Fitzwilliam, for I have been far too preoccupied with the handsome gentleman before me to notice.”

Darcy raised the shades and resumed his proper place on the other side of the carriage just before the play ended and the patrons began to file out of the theatre and into the street. Rather than leaving Bingley, Jane, Georgiana, and Colonel Fitzwilliam to wander about in search of Elizabeth and him, Darcy waded into the fray to find them. After being accosted by numerous acquaintances inquiring about the identity of his beautiful companion and wondering where she had disappeared to, he finally returned to the coach with the rest of their party. While Bingley ordered his own carriage and assisted the ladies, Colonel Fitzwilliam took his cousin aside. “Is all well, Darcy?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“Yes, Fitzwilliam, perfectly well. Elizabeth only required a bit of fresh air.”

The Colonel then raised his brow, and Darcy sighed. “Very well. I fear I have kept my word very poorly this evening, and believe me, Elizabeth has already had much to say on the subject. Fear not. I believe I have finally learned my lesson and will attempt to behave myself until Saturday. After that, I cannot be held accountable for my behavior, and you will just have to accustom yourself to my having an extremely pretty wife whose fine eyes may tempt me to act as I would not otherwise in polite company. But, as I promised Elizabeth, I shall endeavor to show my affection for her only when we are within our own family circle, and not until after our wedding. Will that do, Fitzwilliam?”

The Colonel laughed and slapped him on the back. “Well enough, Darcy, well enough. I suppose I shall just have to overlook your offenses, so long as you promise not to hide yourself and your lovely wife away from the rest of us.”

Darcy gave his cousin a wide smile as they made to climb into his carriage. “Follow Mr. Bingley’s carriage to Grosvenor Street, Foster.” With a sharp rap upon the roof of the carriage, they were off.

***

The two carriages pulled up in front of Mr. Hurst’s house on Grosvenor Street, and the ladies within were immediately handed down to the safekeeping of the gentlemen. They all made their way into the house with very little ceremony and were shown into the drawing room, where they were received by the Hursts and Miss Bingley, who, much to that particular lady’s vexation, were unable to join them at the theatre due to a prior engagement.

After about ten minutes of perfunctory conversation, Mr. Hurst stood and addressed his wife. “I say, Louisa, those blasted Saundersons hardly fed us properly when we dined with them this afternoon, and I have been starving now for a good five or six hours since. I say we dispense with this chatter and eat. What say you, Bingley?”

Bingley, as could be expected, remained speechless, but Mrs. Hurst rolled her eyes and steered her husband and his empty wine glass in the direction of the dining room. Bingley escorted Jane, and Darcy was about to offer Elizabeth his arm when he found it suddenly seized by Caroline Bingley instead. She immediately engaged him in meaningless banter as she dragged him with some effort toward the dining room, leaving Elizabeth staring after them. Every attempt Darcy made to return to her was met with fierce resistance by Miss Bingley, and so he could only look back at his betrothed. While she followed on Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arm with Georgiana, she smiled, and her brow arched.

Dinner was the usual affair—usual meaning Elizabeth found herself placed as far from Darcy as she had become accustomed to during her visits at Netherfield.

Darcy, as ever, found very little pleasure in the seating arrangements. Elizabeth made a valiant effort to lighten his dark mood by casting playful looks in his direction from the opposite end of the table. Being seated next to Caroline Bingley was hardly to Darcy’s liking, particularly after the serious tone of the earlier discussion he and Elizabeth had in the coach outside of the theatre. Though it now appeared she had discovered an ample diversion in their current circumstances, he still had no idea what she was truly thinking at the moment, and it bothered him.

When the gentlemen separated from the ladies after supper, Darcy, for the first time in a long while, found himself hesitating. He had no wish to separate himself any longer from Elizabeth, and from what he could see from her frequent glances, neither did she wish it. There was, however, very little he could do about it, and when Colonel Fitzwilliam clasped him firmly on the shoulder on his way to the study, he reluctantly followed, determined to return in a timely fashion to Elizabeth’s side, whether his host was willing or not.

The ladies soon settled themselves in the drawing room. Mrs. Hurst sat by complacently while Miss Bingley made a show of fawning over Georgiana. Jane and Elizabeth were simply ignored and left to their own devices. Elizabeth, who had grown quite used to their rude behavior in Hertfordshire, found this all rather amusing, but Georgiana found much to distress her and tried her best to include her future sisters in her conversation with Bingley’s sisters. Finally, after Miss Darcy had cast many uncomfortable glances at Elizabeth and Jane, Mrs. Hurst said to Elizabeth, “Miss Bennet, I do believe we are very soon to be wishing you joy. When will the happy event take place, do you think?”

Resisting the urge to glance at Miss Bingley, Elizabeth replied, “I am to marry Mr. Darcy on Saturday.” The slightest smile of satisfaction curved her lips as she heard Miss Bingley choke on her meringue, the remnants of which landed on the finely woven carpet at her sister’s feet.

Mrs. Hurst leaned over to pat her sister on the back and continued as though nothing untoward had occurred. “Oh, so soon? Will you be staying in Town after the ceremony or removing immediately to Pemberley?”

“I believe Mr. Darcy plans on remaining in London for some time.”

Caroline Bingley had, by this time, recovered sufficiently to add, “What a treat for you, Miss Eliza. I am certain all of Mr. Darcy’s fashionable friends will be thrilled to make
your
acquaintance this Season. What a shame no one from his family will likely be in attendance at your wedding.” She leaned forward and continued in a confidential tone, “Now do not worry yourself, Eliza. I am certain their absence can only mean they have yet to learn of Mr. Darcy’s understanding with you. It cannot possibly be because his closest relations disapprove of you as his choice. Perhaps he has not yet seen fit to inform them of his intentions and simply plans to present your marriage as a sort of fait accompli
,
so to speak. That way you may be spared the embarrassment of having someone as illustrious and powerful as the esteemed Lord Matlock objecting outright to your alliance.”

Jane and Georgiana wore identical expressions of incredulity. Elizabeth, however, smiled sweetly as she said, “Actually, Miss Bingley, Lord and Lady Matlock have assured me they will both be in attendance with the rest of their family. They and Colonel Fitzwilliam have been very warm and attentive ever since we had the honor of being introduced.”

Miss Bingley refused to allow this information to deter her and so tried her hand again. “I suppose you shall be married from your uncle’s house in
Cheapside
, Miss Eliza? I daresay Lord and Lady Matlock will find it charming, attending the wedding breakfast within full view of your uncle’s warehouses.” She and Mrs. Hurst could hardly keep themselves in check and, so, burst into fits of laughter.

Jane, who had not thought her two future sisters-in-law quite so bad as this, gasped. Before Elizabeth could form her biting reply, however, Georgiana had placed her hand upon her arm and forced herself to say, “Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner will be at the wedding, but Elizabeth and my brother shall be married from our house in Grosvenor Square. Our patronage in the church is very important to my brother, and since Darcy House will soon be Elizabeth’s home, as well, she has graciously agreed to indulge us. As far as my uncle and aunt are concerned, they are both quite taken with Elizabeth. I do believe my uncle already considers her to be a favorite. They plan to hold a ball in honor of Elizabeth, and as my brother detests large gatherings, you can imagine he shall insist the guest list be kept to a rather smaller number of his closest friends and intimate acquaintances.” She said this last part with a pointed look at Miss Bingley, who suddenly recalled something very pressing that required her immediate attention on the other side of the room.

The gentlemen rejoined them shortly thereafter. Darcy was rather relieved to find Elizabeth and Jane in rapt conversation with Georgiana. Mrs. Hurst was attending them with disinterested politeness. Miss Bingley, who had noticed him immediately from her perch on the settee at the other end of the drawing room, rose and glided toward him.

“Oh, Mr. Darcy, I do believe I owe you my congratulations, sir! I had no idea we were to lose you a mere two days from now. What a loss for all of the accomplished ladies of the
ton.
You are doing us all quite a disservice, sir. So many hearts shall surely be broken.” Her sly smile repulsed him. “I do not suppose you are having second thoughts, sir? I do believe it is customary for many gentlemen to reconsider their options before taking such a fateful plunge.” Miss Bingley moved in closer, gripping his arm tightly, and purred in a throaty voice that made him cringe, “You know, it is not too late to change your mind, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy disentangled himself from her grasp and directed a warm look at Elizabeth. “No, that is quite unnecessary, I assure you. You find me only too willing to make the most beautiful woman in all of London my wife.”

Miss Bingley’s face contorted in obvious displeasure and, before she could think better of it, blurted out, “Well, then I wonder at your wanting to marry Elizabeth Bennet.”

“What?” The room stilled, and Darcy fixed her with a look of contempt so menacing that Miss Bingley actually recoiled. Convinced she may have finally crossed a fine line Darcy had drawn, she dared not do anything more than stare after him as he walked quickly away to join Elizabeth, Jane, and Georgiana, his body stiff. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had joined them moments earlier, stood with his brows raised while Bingley, sporting a scowl that rivaled Darcy’s, crossed the room in three strides and steered his offending sister out of sight and into another room at the end of the hall.

With a glance at her husband, Mrs. Hurst abandoned her chair to follow them but was halted by Mr. Hurst’s stern voice. “Louisa, sit! I will have none of this in my house! Now fetch me a brandy and one for Bingley’s Miss Bennet, as well. I daresay she looks as though she could use one.”

All eyes shifted to Jane, who did, indeed, look pale. “I… no, that is… please, you must not worry over me. I will be fine in a moment. Really, it is nothing.”

Elizabeth knelt in front of her. “Dearest Jane, do not distress yourself on my account. Truly, Miss Bingley said nothing that causes me any grief. Actually,” she continued with a smile, “I confess myself rather disappointed in her scant efforts tonight. I have grown quite accustomed to receiving far more disparaging remarks from her sharp tongue.” Elizabeth’s eyes gleamed as she shook her head. “No, tonight she was not up to her usual high standard at all! Perhaps she is feeling suddenly unwell, or perhaps something particular has driven her to distraction?” Elizabeth turned a mischievous smile on Darcy, who raised his brow as she, Georgiana, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Hurst erupted into laughter. It was not long until Jane joined them.

A reluctant smile broke on Darcy’s face, as well. As he watched the woman he loved more than life itself, laughing along with the others, he could not help but marvel at her selfless ability to transform an unpleasant scene he knew must have brought her some degree of pain and mortification into a diversion for the benefit of her beloved sister. He doubted he would ever be able to do such a thing—find folly in an otherwise intolerable situation, laugh when he would rather have cried, even for Georgiana’s sake. At that moment he felt an overwhelming urge to go to her, but not because of any physical desire. He wanted only to enfold Elizabeth in his arms and hold on to her, to place kisses in her hair and tell her how much he loved her, how much having her in his life, returning his love, meant to him.

They would be married in only two days’ time, and Darcy had promised her father he would not go to her before then, but, as he continued to look upon her in the middle of the Hursts’ drawing room—so beautiful, so vibrant, so strong, yet so vulnerable, one thing became undeniably certain to him—he did not relish the unhappy prospect of being unable to offer his consolation to her on that night, especially given their earlier talk in the carriage outside of the theatre.

Bingley returned to offer his sincerest apologies to a rather surprisingly jovial set of people. His sister, however, did not. Concern for Miss Bingley soon drove Louisa away, but the rest of the party spent another half hour rather pleasantly without their society before finally acknowledging the lateness of the hour.

While Darcy made his farewells to Bingley and Mr. Hurst, Colonel Fitzwilliam handed the ladies into Darcy’s carriage. Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the carriage before him, and by the time the master of Pemberley joined them, he found the only option left to him was a vacancy by Elizabeth’s side. He hesitated several seconds, and Elizabeth extended her hand to him and laced her fingers with his as she gave him a tired smile. Darcy glanced at the others in the carriage, but they all seemed to be suspiciously well occupied, either looking out of windows, examining gloves, or searching through reticules.

At last, Darcy seated himself beside Elizabeth, giving her hand a small squeeze as he raised it to his lips and then placed it upon his lap. He heard her quiet sigh, a sigh of exhaustion, emotional as well as physical, and felt her turn her face into his shoulder for a fleeting moment. It had been a difficult day for her—a difficult week, actually—and, without so much as a second thought, Darcy turned his head to bestow a kiss upon her temple as he allowed himself to whisper ever so softly, so only she would hear, “How I love you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”