Truth about Mr. Darcy (23 page)

Elizabeth beamed. “You are very welcome. I was hoping you would.”

Darcy ran his finger over the glass covering the miniature, caressing with tenderness the tiny version of his wife. “It is truly an excellent likeness of you. Did you sit for it while you have been in London?”

Elizabeth smiled. “No, I had it framed in London. I sat for it when I was still in Hertfordshire.”

“Hertfordshire? May I ask the name of the artist?”

“Bennet,” she replied.

It was not what Darcy had expected to hear. “Bennet?”

“My sister Kitty has many talents aside from that of chasing after poor, unsuspecting officers with Lydia. She was very pleased to do it and took great pleasure in the knowledge that it would be my gift to you. I believe she has never before concentrated so much of her effort on one tiny painting!”

“It is a small masterpiece. I had no idea Katherine was so gifted. She would benefit greatly from having a London master, do not you think?”

“That she would, indeed; however, my parents hardly have the means to support such an endeavor.”

Darcy looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. “And are you not the mistress of Pemberley, Mrs. Darcy? Surely, we can well afford to have your sister stay with us in Town and forward her education.”

Elizabeth kissed him soundly. “You are truly a generous man, Fitzwilliam.”

He laughed. “Yes, I certainly am!” He removed himself from her embrace and left the bed to procure a small, elegantly wrapped parcel from his own dressing room. When he returned, he presented it to Elizabeth with a flourish and resumed his place beside her under the counterpane.

Without ceremony, she eagerly tore off the wrapping, exclaiming with pleasure at the delicately painted porcelain box she cradled in her hands.

Darcy lifted the hinged lid, and a beautiful melody began to fill the room. Elizabeth smiled as he explained, “It is a waltz. It is still considered quite scandalous in England, but I assure you it is very popular in Austria. A gentleman and a lady twirl and glide across the dance floor, holding one another quite close. It is very beautiful to watch but, I daresay, highly inappropriate.” He smiled as he gave her a penetrating look of longing. “I am determined to dance with you someday while I hold you in my arms, Elizabeth. No doubt, it will bring me immense pleasure.”

She placed the music box upon the nightstand and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, until then, sir, perhaps you will allow me to bring you immense pleasure in some other way?”

“I would by no means wish to suspend any pleasure of yours, Mrs. Darcy.”

***

Christmas day at the Fitzwilliams’ home in Berkeley Square was, most unfortunately, a far cry from the pleasurable evening Darcy and Elizabeth had spent with her family in Gracechurch Street the night before. Though Elizabeth did experience many enjoyable moments conversing with Georgiana, Lord and Lady Matlock, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and his brothers, she found very little pleasure in the society of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who also happened to be in attendance with her daughter, Anne.

Contrary to Elizabeth’s expectations, Darcy’s cousin proved to be quite the opposite of her mother—slight and frail, extremely pale, and almost sickly in appearance. She spoke very little to anyone, or rather, Lady Catherine did not permit her to voice more than a few syllables before interrupting. Elizabeth noticed Miss de Bourgh’s sickly pallor took on a crimson hue, not only whenever her mother treated her in such an unfeeling and controlling manner, but also whenever she happened to attempt to malign Elizabeth and even Darcy, for what she deemed his inappropriate choice of wife. Though she was a young woman of very large fortune and the sole heiress to Rosings Park, which Elizabeth had understood from Mr. Collins’s accounts to be a very grand estate, Elizabeth could not help but feel pity for Miss de Bourgh. In spite of her obvious wealth, her life seemed to hold little in the way of pleasure.

It was evident by the dark scowl he wore for most of the day that Darcy was by no means enjoying himself. Lord and Lady Matlock did their utmost to deflect Lady Catherine’s bitter expression and scathing remarks from their intended target—her new niece—but, as that great lady was not a woman used to being gainsaid, they were not entirely successful in their endeavors.

There was one moment, however, that brought Elizabeth unexpected comfort. Anne de Bourgh, who was forever under the constant observation and scrutiny of her imperious mother, had taken great pains to secure a moment alone with her cousin’s new wife, with the assistance of Georgiana and Lady Matlock. They found themselves in a small parlor abovestairs, and though a bit awkward at first, the meeting did not remain so for long as Anne, who had confessed to not being in the best of health, proclaimed her sincere delight upon having learned of Darcy’s marriage.

“My dear Mrs. Darcy,” she said in a demure voice, “I am thrilled for you both. I have long hoped Fitzwilliam would find a woman who would make him truly happy, as I have always known he and I have never shared my mother’s misdirected opinion that
we
could find felicity with each other. We are both of such a taciturn, unsocial nature and, therefore, in desperate need of marital companions who will bring us some liveliness.” She bowed her head then and said, with some emotion, “Do you think you could ever find it within your heart to forgive me for my mother’s unjust treatment of you, Mrs. Darcy? I have been greatly distressed since I first learnt of it and have been increasingly more so after witnessing her abominable behavior toward you today, as well.”

Taking pity upon her, Elizabeth touched the back of Miss de Bourgh’s hands, which were clasped tightly upon her lap. “Miss de Bourgh, I can hardly hold you accountable for your mother’s ill treatment of me. Please, think upon it no longer. I should dearly like for us to be friends.”

Miss de Bourgh raised her head and looked upon the new Mrs. Darcy with such an expression of appreciation and relief that Elizabeth had to smile. “Thank you. I should like that very much. I have had very little opportunity to form many friendships of my own choosing, and I believe your society would be a most enjoyable change of venue for me.”

The two ladies, unfortunately, were to have only a few more minutes of each other’s company before they were interrupted by Georgiana, who informed them that Lady Catherine was beginning to grow anxious over Anne’s whereabouts. They parted, however, with the plan of corresponding with each other through Lady Matlock, so as not to invoke the wrath of Lady Catherine. Elizabeth remained abovestairs after Georgiana had led Anne back to her mother. She was relieved to have found Miss de Bourgh to be the complete opposite of Lady Catherine. She smiled as she recalled the sincerity and kindness of her address and the happiness she had shown when Elizabeth had offered her friendship.

There was a knock upon the door then, and without waiting for a reply, Lady Matlock stepped into the room with a warm smile. “So, my dear, I understand you and Anne are to become good friends?”

Elizabeth returned her smile and nodded. “Yes. I must confess I am relieved to find her extremely amiable and kind. I was happy to make her acquaintance. Though I never doubted Fitzwilliam’s assurances his cousin would not be offended by his choosing me, I could not help but worry over meeting Miss de Bourgh, particularly after her mother had made such a strong impression upon me!”

Lady Matlock approached her. “You astound me, Elizabeth, with your ability to laugh over such shocking recollections. However do you manage it?”

Elizabeth shrugged and said, “I cannot say, but I have always found it is far better to laugh than to cry in some situations—one of the rare bits of knowledge I gleaned from my mother! Very often she would say or do something mortally embarrassing, which would bring a blush to my face; however, rather than crying over it, I would simply think instead of something to make myself laugh. I daresay the same philosophy shall help me greatly when moving in London society. I hear the ladies of the
ton
can be extremely formidable!”

Lady Matlock laughed. “Yes, to be sure they can. You do realize, I hope, that Henry and I will always value and appreciate you, Elizabeth. You have brought such joy to Fitzwilliam. He has known so much sorrow and loneliness since the passing of his dear parents that we cannot help but love you, as well. Whether Catherine comes to accept you or not, we shall strive to protect you from her cruelty.”

Lady Matlock directed her to a small sofa across the room, and Elizabeth said, “I can almost feel sorry for her. She must have suffered cruelly at one time in order to have so very few scruples about making others feel wretched.”

They sat for several minutes until Lady Matlock shook her head and said, “You are an insightful young woman, Elizabeth.” She then gave her a meaningful look and reached for her hands. “I am going to share something with you, something I believe may better help you to understand my sister-in-law. You see, Catherine has suffered a disappointment in her past, and I am afraid it has had a lasting effect on her. Did you know she is the elder sister of Fitzwilliam’s mother, Anne?”

“Yes, I have been given to understand that. She is Lord Matlock’s elder sister, is she not?”

Lady Matlock nodded. “What you will not know, for I doubt very much even my nephew is aware of this, is when Catherine and Anne were hardly more than girls, they were introduced to Sir Lewis de Bourgh, who was considerably older than they. Though he found both sisters to be beautiful, he immediately became enchanted by Anne’s wit and vivacity. He wished to marry her, but Anne did not return his regard. Sir Lewis then applied to her father, but he would not hear of it, as Anne was his particular favorite, not to mention still quite young—especially for a man nearly fifteen years her senior. Sir Lewis vowed to wait for her until she was of a more acceptable age to receive his suit, but was devastated when she became engaged not two years later to George Darcy, who was much younger and utterly devoted to Anne in much the same way her son is devoted to you, my dear. Catherine, also, was discontented with the match, as it was long suspected she was in love with George. After Anne’s marriage, Sir Lewis settled on Catherine instead, though Henry has often wondered whether she accepted him more for his title and connections than for the man himself.

“It was not a happy union, made even less so by the undisguised bliss Anne and George had found together and refused to hide from society. It was obvious Sir Lewis still desired her, though he was no longer quite so open about it, at least not unless he had been drinking. When Fitzwilliam was born, Sir Lewis felt it as a personal blow. Not long afterward, Catherine gave birth to a little girl, and though she protested vehemently, her husband insisted on naming her after Catherine’s sister. It made Catherine bitter, a bitterness that rules over her to this very day.”

Elizabeth raised her hand to her lips, and Lady Matlock continued, “Sir Lewis doted on his daughter as he surely would have doted on her namesake. He had never doted on his wife, and Catherine continued to grow increasingly angry over his inattention whenever they were in company. In the meantime, Anne Darcy had suffered several failed pregnancies, which left her vulnerable to bouts of illness. Finally, when Georgiana was born, Anne’s body was simply too weak to continue to sustain her life. When word of her failing health reached Rosings, Sir Lewis was beside himself and determined to go to her, despite the evident jealousy and displeasure of his wife, who flatly refused to visit her sister. They argued, and he left in the middle of the night for Pemberley. He had not ridden five miles beyond Rosings when he was thrown from his horse. His injuries were fatal.”

“How awful!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Poor Miss de Bourgh, to be left solely to the care of such a resentful parent, and Lady Catherine, to be left alone with a daughter who would always remind her of her husband’s steadfast devotion to another woman. Though I cannot help but feel a certain sympathy for Sir Lewis de Bourgh for falling hopelessly in love with a woman who could not return his regard, I can hardly agree with his decision to marry poor Lady Catherine in her stead. Of what could he have been thinking, I wonder?”

Lady Matlock smiled. “I hardly know, but I see you have already begun to take pity upon Catherine.”

Elizabeth was thoughtful for many moments. “It is not so easy to forgive her for saying such hurtful things aimed purposefully to wound, but I do pity her. How can I not when I am married to such an extraordinary man of whose regard I have daily proof? It makes me wonder, though, why Lady Catherine would ever wish to promote a union between her daughter and the son of her sister.”

“I believe it would have given her a certain perverse satisfaction to see her sister’s beloved son, whom I imagine she cannot help but favor, as he is so very much like his excellent father, bound to her own daughter. I believe she viewed the idea of a union between them as a sort of victory for herself, in the sense that she would have gained access to a portion of what she felt would have rightfully been hers had George Darcy only returned her regard: Pemberley.” Lady Matlock hesitated a moment. “I can only hope she does not carry her displeasure regarding your marriage beyond our family circle. I would hate to see her abuse you, Elizabeth, and make it difficult to establish yourself in society.”

Elizabeth frowned. “I have no doubt she will abuse me to all Fitzwilliam’s relations, but would she truly be so unscrupulous, do you think, to relate her malicious rumors to those outside of her family circle?”

Lady Matlock smiled sadly. “For your sake, and for Anne’s, I would like to think Catherine above such machinations; however, when one is bitter and used to behaving bitterly, I cannot so easily discount such unfeeling behavior.”

They were joined shortly thereafter by Darcy. “Lady Matlock, you have been keeping my wife to yourself this last hour. It is most ungenerous of you.”

Both ladies smiled and made to stand, but just as Elizabeth was about to reach him, she felt light-headed. She grabbed a chair to steady herself, but not before she was observed by Darcy, who was at her side immediately. Putting his arms about her, he asked, “Elizabeth, dearest, you are unwell?” Lady Matlock observed her with a mixture of concern and curiosity.