Consequences (29 page)

“Letters, actually, for it occurs to me I also ought to inform my sister. After you visit my father, might it be possible for you to take a letter to Jane? I believe I mentioned she is staying with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in Cheapside.”

Darcy agreed to this also, though Elizabeth thought he did not look particularly enthused at meeting her mother’s brother. Remembering she could not hope to modify her future husband’s manner in an instant, she had to content herself with hoping the innate civility and manners of her aunt and uncle would show Mr. Darcy she had some relatives, at least, of whom she did not have to be ashamed.

“As for getting the letters to you, I suppose I could leave them here under a rock. Or perhaps I could place the letters inside one of my books and then give it to you when you call, thanking you for the loan.”

“I dislike your leaving private communications here in the Park, though there is probably small likelihood they would be discovered. But I do favour your idea of placing them in a book. Even better, give the book to Richard since I am not sure how well I will be able to keep my composure.”

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at the idea of Mr. Darcy losing his composure, but his only response was to smile more broadly. “Since I do seem to be smiling continually this morning, I will enlist his aid. I know I can inform him of our engagement without his feeling any inclination to inform our aunt. Besides, I think he must have noticed some part of my attraction to you since he has several times made jests about how unnaturally I have been acting; he has lately advised me that a young lady of sense and wit would make a much more compatible partner than some fashionable lady of the social set.”

There being little more to settle, they began to walk back toward the Parsonage, and Elizabeth was rather surprised by Mr. Darcy’s easy air and amicable conversation. She had never seen him in such a pleasing light, and he actually seemed more like his cousin than she would have ever believed possible. Their pleasant interchange was, to Elizabeth’s recollection, the first they had ever managed during their brief acquaintance. She even grew somewhat accepting of Mr. Darcy’s continued claim on her hand, which he did not release until shortly before they came in sight of the Parsonage.

It may not be the best recommendation for our future felicity,
she thought to herself as they neared the gate,
but considering what I thought just yesterday, it will have to do.

Chapter 17

“Such is hope, heaven’s own gift to struggling
mortals, pervading, like some subtle essence
from the skies, all things both good and bad.”

—Charles Dickens, British novelist

Friday, April 10, 1812

Darcy was almost back at Rosings when he saw Colonel Fitzwilliam walking jauntily toward him.

“Ho, Darcy!” called Fitzwilliam in good humour as they met. “I could not find you anywhere about the house, so I set out to look for you. We had planned to call on the ladies at the Parsonage and make our farewells this morning, you know.”

“I do indeed, Richard,” replied Darcy, “but I need to talk to you before we make our call.”

“Then talk on, Cuz, as long as you do not anticipate another delay in leaving. The regiment can do without my services for a few days, but it would not do to leave the impression it could do without me for longer,” replied Fitzwilliam. “I need the appointment, you know, being a younger son and all that.”

Darcy gave a sparing smile at his cousin’s oft-repeated and well-worn jest on the state of his finances and turned to retrace his steps away from Rosings. Despite his earlier anticipation at being able to at least announce his engagement to his cousin Fitzwilliam, Darcy was now unable to form the words. Eventually, he haltingly began, “I have just come from walking with Miss Bennet, Richard.”

“Ah, the very lovely Miss Elizabeth,” agreed Fitzwilliam, with a huge smile of approval. “That is certainly one regretful aspect of leaving my aunt’s house, in that I shall be deprived of Miss Bennet’s amiable company. Why, if only I were not a younger son, I cannot think of a more pleasing possibility for the married condition. I was discussing the situation of being a younger son with her during our walk yesterday . . .”

Darcy, already finding himself at a loss for words and additionally feeling a pang of mingled irritation and jealousy at his cousin’s casual mention of Elizabeth, was quite unable to stop from bursting out, “To blazes with your financial condition, Fitzwilliam! I wanted to tell you I am engaged to be married, and all you can talk about is the precarious condition of the younger son of an earl!”

Colonel Fitzwilliam was not affronted by Darcy’s outburst but was, in reality, amused at his success in finding a chink in his cousin’s usual armour of control and restraint. Thus, his initial response was to raise his eyebrows quizzically. Only then did he comprehend the sense of what Darcy had said.

Engaged?
he thought incredulously.
Darcy is engaged? To whom? Anne?
Those thoughts turned his pleasant but quizzical expression into one considerably more troubled.

For his part, Darcy was immediately sorry and irritated with himself for his loss of restraint. “I am sorry, Richard,” he said contritely after a few moments. “I had hardly any sleep last night, and my temper is not under firm control.”

“No matter, Darce—but here now!” exclaimed Fitzwilliam, coming to an abrupt stop. “What is this about being engaged? I thought you considered Anne too sick to marry, at least at this time. You have not let Aunt Catherine bully you into this, have you?” The troubled expression was still on Fitzwilliam’s face, but now Darcy was able to ascertain the reason for it.

“No, Richard,” responded Darcy, his good cheer restored as he also stopped. “Anne is feeling somewhat better than last year, but she and I have talked before about our aunt’s obsession. Firstly, we know we are ill-suited to one another, and secondly, it will be a cold day in Hades before I allow Aunt Catherine to bully me into anything.”

“No?” Fitzwilliam responded in confusion. “Then who?”

His eyes widened as he quickly contemplated alternatives. “No!” he said shortly. “You cannot mean?”

“Well,” said Darcy blandly, “I have not spoken to Miss Lucas.”

“Then congratulations truly are in order, Cuz!” exclaimed Fitzwilliam, stepping forward to seize Darcy’s hand. “I am not sure just what happened to clear the cobwebs from your brain, for I did not dare hope you would have made so rational a choice. I was terrified you would choose some simpering, society beauty, and we would have nothing but cheerless Christmases at Pemberley for years!”

Fitzwilliam pondered his cousin for a few seconds before continuing thoughtfully, “In fact, if I were not a younger son and thus in need of a wife with at least some fortune, I might have been—”

“Richard!” Darcy said threateningly, and Fitzwilliam erupted into laughter, which eventually drew a rueful smile from his cousin. Darcy turned back toward the Park, and Fitzwilliam fell into step beside him.

“Darcy, though I warmly approve of your selection of Miss Bennet as a wife, it does seem to have occurred rather suddenly. Certainly, I had not noticed any particular regard for her on your part, and she seemed to take delight in verbal fencing with you. If I had been asked to guess, I would have thought her attitude towards you to be indifferent with a slight tilt toward hostility.”

Darcy took some moments to digest this rather unpleasant assessment. Eventually, he commented, “You were aware that Miss Bennet and I were acquainted before our arrival to visit Aunt Catherine, did you not?”

“Actually, I only learned that while here at Rosings. You certainly never mentioned her name until we found she was visiting Mrs. Collins.”

Darcy was silent for several paces before he said in a rather distracted manner, “Just because I did not mention her does not mean I did not think of her, Richard. In fact, I left Hertfordshire rather abruptly in an attempt to get her out of my mind. The thought of actually meeting her at Rosings was the farthest thing from my thoughts, however, even though she often disturbed my tranquillity. I was totally unprepared for actually meeting her again, and I soon found I had made no progress whatever in changing my attraction to her. In fact, the attraction actually grew stronger—and swiftly so. I was completely dazed by the manner and the rapidity with which my emotions passed beyond my control.”

“Which goes far to explain the stupid manner in which you acted around her!” exclaimed Fitzwilliam in sudden clarity. “It begins to make sense at last! You have always prided yourself on your self-control, and here you found yourself being overwhelmed by your feelings. It must have left you feeling quite mystified.”

Fitzwilliam shook his head mournfully as he continued, “And during it all, as usual, you were determined to solve the problem yourself, since a Darcy need never ask for advice or sympathy. And with your mother dead these many years, you had no female family—except her ladyship, perish the thought!—who might have counselled you that your feelings were perfectly normal when one falls in love. Instead, I would wager, you determined to blunder on through, never letting the witty Miss Bennet have the slightest notion of any interest on your part, until you could stand it no longer and proposed to her this very morning!”

Darcy’s smile was more sickly than humorous since he recognized too much of himself in Fitzwilliam’s insightful portrait. “Not quite exactly right, Richard. I actually proposed yesterday, but she did not answer me until this morning.”

“You are fortunate that you have the Darcy name and fortune behind you, Cuz, otherwise I suspect you might not have received a favourable reply.”

“I actually expected a refusal this morning,” admitted Darcy. “After being so accurate in your assessment of how the proposal came about, you will probably not be surprised to learn I made an absolute mess of it.”

“Unsurprised indeed!” snorted Fitzwilliam.

“So much so that I thought the reason she did not give me a reply yesterday was due to her shock and anger at the manner of my offer of marriage. Instead, as you intimated, she told me she had no idea at all of any interest on my part, believing I hated and despised her!”

Darcy deliberately did not look over at his cousin as he asked in a flat voice, “Richard, do you believe I acted toward Miss Bennet in a manner that would lead her to suspect dislike and contempt on my part? Do not spare me; I need to know the honest truth.”

Fitzwilliam thought carefully for a moment before replying. “I do not believe so, Darcy, but that is possibly because I have known you for many years. Certainly, I was quite confused over just what was causing you to behave so oddly, but I never thought you actually showed any dislike towards Miss Bennet—though I am not so sure about her opinion of you. And furthermore,” he added rather unwillingly, “I must confess I may have inadvertently added to any inclination she might have had in that direction.”

Darcy looked over at his cousin in surprise as Fitzwilliam continued. “I happened to meet Miss Bennet when I was making my final tour of the Park yesterday morning, and, in the course of the conversation, she indicated a degree of displeasure in the way you guide your friend, Bingley. I mentioned, in trying to come to your defence, the manner in which you aid Bingley in those areas where he most needs assistance and had lately saved him from a most imprudent marriage. Miss Bennet appeared to regard your interference as—”

Fitzwilliam became aware his cousin was no longer beside him. When he turned around, he received a second shock, for Darcy was standing frozen in place, with a stricken expression and a sudden pallor to his complexion.

“Darcy, whatever is the matter?” Fitzwilliam asked, quickly moving to Darcy’s side. “Come, sit down, old man; you look quite ill!”

Darcy shook his head and took a deep breath to quell the nausea suddenly afflicting him. “No, Richard, I am not ill, but your words made me feel as if I had stumbled off a precipice and was in mid-air on the way down to the rocks below.”

He passed his hand over his eyes, and Fitzwilliam thought they seemed haunted as he continued. “You had no way of knowing it, Richard, and I curse myself for my idle boasting of how I helped Charles Bingley, but the lady who drew Bingley’s interest was none other than Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth’s older sister.”

Fitzwilliam was greatly distressed by the words and by the harm he accidentally caused. “I did not know, Darce,” he whispered.

“There is no way you could, Richard. Miss Elizabeth is extremely loyal to her family and especially to her older sister. They are very close, and both of them are models of propriety and good manners, even if it is hard to believe they spring from the same stock as their mother and their three younger sisters.”

Fitzwilliam looked over at his cousin. “You are fortunate Miss Bennet did not throw your proposal back in your teeth, the Darcy name and fortune notwithstanding. She
did
accept you, though? There is no mistake?”

Darcy smiled grimly. “Yes, she did accept me, and now I see why she would not reply yesterday. I wager she was too furious with me to speak at the time, and she needed the night to calm down.”