In the Wilds of Derbyshire Read online

  Darcy was a little surprised that Elizabeth would know so much on the matter, and he asked her with more than a little curiosity. “Are you familiar with the process?”

  “I was raised on a farm, Mr. Darcy. I have seen animals mating and have even witnessed horses birthing foals. I have always assumed it to be similar.”

  “True,” said Darcy. “Then how many children would Miss Elizabeth Bennet consider to be ideal?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Perhaps four or five. I have not thought of it, to be honest, and I am not certain one can determine how many children one is to have.”

  This was not a subject on which Darcy wished to speak in any detail, for even if she had seen animals reproduce, she was still a young lady of her times, albeit an uncommonly intelligent one.

  “You are one and twenty today, Elizabeth. This is the day I know without a doubt you will marry me, as your father cannot stop you any longer.”

  “He never would, William. He cares too much for my happiness to deny me what I truly want.”

  “Do you think you will be happy here?”

  His quiet question seemed to take Elizabeth by surprise, and she turned to him, a question written on her brow. Darcy was uncertain why he had voiced it. It was perhaps an echo of his old distrust of any woman or maybe a lingering fear that he would not be able to make the woman he loved happy, despite the advantages he possessed. It might be nothing more than a simple request to be reassured that she loved him as much as he loved her. Darcy was unable to articulate exactly what he meant, for he did not understand himself.

  She sensed this and approached him, reaching out to grasp his hands in hers, and she looked deeply into his eyes, trying to understand him, or trying to reassure him.

  “William,” said she, “looking at all this, I cannot imagine any woman would be discontented with her situation.”

  “But you are not a woman who is moved by mere possessions.”

  “I am not,” agreed she. “But from the standpoint of nothing more than that, a woman could be nothing but well pleased to be mistress of Pemberley. I will own to a little trepidation, as your holdings are so vast, but I have never allowed anything to intimidate me in the past, and I will not do so in the future.”

  “There is also the house in town, and three secondary estates to consider,” said Darcy, throwing her a teasing grin.

  Elizabeth laughed. “That is most certainly not helping.”

  “You will be fine.”

  “I am certain I will.” Elizabeth paused, and her gaze became more penetrating. “But as you know, I consider the needs of wealth to be less important than those of the heart. When we were girls, Jane and I were the daily witnesses to a couple who were not happy in their marriage. We vowed to each other that only the deepest love would introduce us to matrimony.

  “As we grew older, we began to understand that my parents were not as unhappy as we thought. When they can be bothered to make the attempt, they share a good and loving relationship. But my mother is intent upon her nerves and her worries for the future, though that has eased to some extent with my sister’s marriage to the next master of Longbourn, and my father loves to amuse himself by teasing my mother and provoking her nerves. Jane and I both decided we could never live that way.”

  The steady gaze that bored into Darcy’s eyes took his breath away, and he was captivated by those beautiful, deep, glorious pools of dark brown, which seemed to go on forever.

  “What I am trying to say, Mr. Darcy, is that I love you with my every breath. I would not have accepted you if I did not. I know there will be vexations, we will disagree and argue, but if we treat each other with respect and remember our love, we will be happy, despite our trials. I love you, William. There is nothing which will make me happier than to become your wife. There is nothing more I require to make me happy.”

  Overwhelmed, Darcy drew her to him and held her there, a tenderness for this woman welling up within him beyond anything he had ever felt. He had already known she loved him, though she had not said the words. They would be well. They would start a family, the next generation of the Darcys of Pemberley. They would be happy for the rest of their lives. Nothing would stop them.

  Chapter XXV

  Three days later, Darcy found himself on the front steps of Pemberley, watching as a carriage approached. In it were the Bingleys, and while Darcy was anticipating meeting his friend again and witnessing the changes that marriage had wrought in him, he was not anticipating the meeting with Miss Bingley and, to a lesser extent, Mrs. Bingley. The latter, of course, he had never met, and he could own to a little curiosity, but if the woman had maintained her previous behavior, he was not certain he could stand idly by and watch his beloved Elizabeth experience the pain of an indifferent sister.

  The conveyance rumbled along the low drive, its approach startling a large flock of ducks on the lake which flew off, squawking their indignation, only to alight on its surface again once the disturbance had passed by. The other parts of the estate continued, unconcerned with the arrival of those who had the potential to throw the master and future mistress into such confusion. Darcy wished Elizabeth were here—but she had declined, mentioning a previous engagement with some friends, and reminding him that she was not yet the hostess to his visitors. Darcy was forced to own that she was correct, though he would have preferred her presence.

  “I wish you had not invited Miss Bingley,” said Georgiana. She was standing by his side, eying the carriage as it approached as if it were some harbinger of doom.

  “Why ever not, Georgiana?” asked Fitzwilliam, the cutting edge of satire sharpening his voice. “Do you not anticipate the arrival of your dear friend? Is the pleasure of Miss Bingley’s conversation, replete with compliments and innuendo, not enough to make you swoon with delight?”

  “Have a care, Fitzwilliam, Georgiana,” said Darcy. The carriage was only moments from arriving, and regardless of his personal feelings for the woman, he did not wish to insult her, though it may bring about some relief if she finally understood his lack of interest in her. Then again, she would likely convince herself that she had misunderstood, and her attentions would continue unabated.

  “You are both aware why I could not exclude her. She is a guest and should be treated as one.”

  “As long as she does not try to order Mrs. Reynolds,” said Georgiana, a dark look, rarely seen, fixed on the carriage.

  “You must think of better things, Georgiana,” replied Fitzwilliam. “When Miss Bingley is grating on your nerves, just remember the pleasure you will receive when she learns of Darcy’s engagement with Miss Bennet. The look on her face alone would be worth capturing on a canvass and preserving for posterity.”

  Georgiana giggled and Darcy himself could not hold in a snort. His thoughts on the subject were nearly identical to his relations’. Hopefully they would make it through this visit unscathed.

  Their banter was brought to a close as the coach stopped before the stairs and the footman on the back hopped down, placed a step beside the vehicle, and opened the door. Soon the familiar form of his closest friend emerged and turned to help the ladies down.

  “Bingley, my friend,” said Darcy, stepping forward and offering his hand, a gesture which was accepted with his friend’s typical enthusiasm. “Welcome to Pemberley. I am very happy to see you.”

  “It is good to be in your company again,” replied Bingley.

  “Oh, there is no question of our acceptance of your kind invitation, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley’s strident tones assaulted their ears. “After the months we have spent in the savage society of my brother’s leased estate, coming to Pemberley is a balm to our souls.”

  “Miss Bingley,” said Darcy, bowing, but not taking the hand she offered. “Welcome. I trust your journey was agreeable.”

  “Very long and tiring, Mr. Darcy. The roads were abominable, the inns barely tolerable, and I could hardly wait for it to end. I have told Charles that
he needs to purchase his estate in a more sophisticated location, but we are still stuck in Hertfordshire for the present.”

  “It is a good estate, and it provides me with the experience necessary before I embark on the next challenge, Caroline,” said Bingley, censure coloring his voice. “I have not yet decided what I wish to do, though I do hope we can speak of it while we are here. I would value your advice on the matter, Darcy.”

  “Of course,” replied Darcy. “But we seem to have forgotten our manners. Shall you not introduce your wife to us, Bingley?”

  “How silly of me to have forgotten,” said Bingley, though his glance at his sister told the story of his exasperation with her for monopolizing the conversation.

  The woman who had been standing a little behind her husband and sister-in-law stepped forward at Bingley’s gesture, her hand finding his. She was tall—taller by several inches than Elizabeth, fair of both countenance and hair, with a pleasing, willowy figure and a calm, careful demeanor. Darcy could immediately understand why Elizabeth had maintained that her sister was the beauty of the family, for she was one of the prettiest women he had ever seen. In in the shape of their chins and the high cheekbones, Darcy could see a distinct close connection between the two sisters.

  “Please allow me to introduce my wife, Mrs. Jane Bingley,” said Bingley with obvious pride. “Jane, this is one of my oldest friends, Fitzwilliam Darcy, his sister, Georgiana Darcy, and his cousin, Colonel Anthony Fitzwilliam.”

  “Simply ‘Mr. Fitzwilliam’ now, Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam, throwing Bingley a grin. “I would prefer you did not mention the colonel business, as I have left the army behind and am now naught but a country gentleman.”

  Bingley laughed. “I cannot think of you as anything but a colonel. In fact, I am anticipating the day when you are introduced to my youngest sisters-in-law, for they adore a man in a red coat.”

  “Oh, Charles!” said Caroline. “Let us not speak of such objectionable subjects. I doubt very much that Mr. Darcy and the colonel will ever have the opportunity to meet Catherine and Lydia Bennet.”

  Though Darcy could not quite be certain, he thought he heard her say under her breath “And for that we can all be grateful.” Even if he had not had Elizabeth’s accounts of Miss Bingley’s behavior in Hertfordshire, he could not have imagined the woman actually embracing such people as she no doubt considered to be beneath her.

  “You can never know, Miss Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam, his eyes darting knowingly to Darcy. Darcy shot him a glare and shook his head, Fitzwilliam only grinned and extended his arm to Mrs. Bingley. “Shall we proceed into the house? My cousins have ordered some refreshments, after which I am certain you will wish to rest in your room.”

  It was clear that Mrs. Bingley did not quite know what to make of Fitzwilliam’s gallantry, but she readily took his arm. Darcy glared at his cousin’s back as he led her away—by offering to escort Mrs. Bingley and usurping his position as host, he all but ensured Darcy would be required to escort Miss Bingley, a necessity which was made certain when Bingley offered his arm to Georgiana. Having no other choice, Darcy allowed Miss Bingley’s talons to wrap around his arm as he led her into the house.

  “Well, what do you think, Mr. Darcy?” asked she before they had gone three steps.

  It was too much to ask that the woman control her vitriol and wait to make some disparaging remark, which he was certain was forthcoming. Darcy only kept his eyes on those walking in front of them and said: “I do not understand on what subject you are soliciting my opinion.”

  An unattractive sound emanated from Miss Bingley’s throat. “Why, my brother’s countrified wife.” Miss Bennet’s eyes bored into the woman’s back. “And she is by far the best of her family.”

  “She seems like a lovely woman,” said Darcy, ignoring his own reservations about her in the face of Miss Bingley’s rudeness.

  “You do not need to speak circumspectly to me, Mr. Darcy. I quite comprehend your feelings, as I am certain that they mirror my own. I only wish you had been in Hertfordshire with us—you might have been able to put a stop to this infatuation before it ever reached this point.”

  It was one of the traits this woman possessed which annoyed Darcy more than anything else—her certainty that his opinions matched hers when, in fact, they were rarely in agreement.

  “But I suppose there is naught to be done on the matter now,” continued she. “Jane is, by herself, tolerable, I suppose, but she is certainly not what I would have wished for my brother.”

  “She is a gentleman’s daughter, is she not?”

  Another snort told Darcy the woman’s opinion, as if he did not already know. “If you can refer to Mr. Bennet as a gentleman, then I suppose she is. But as the family is uncouth and improper, my brother’s marriage does nothing to raise our standing. I suppose I must be thankful they never go to town—I should never be able to hold my head up high if I was seen in society attached to such people.”

  Darcy had little doubt that Miss Bingley was well able to hold her head high in any situation. It was fortunate for Darcy’s equanimity that they reached the parlor soon after, and he managed to disengage his arm from the woman’s vice grip. Their guests were invited to sit, which they did—though Miss Bingley attempted to wait for him to sit so she could choose a seat next to him, no doubt—and Georgiana began to serve tea and cakes.

  “How wonderful it is to be at Pemberley again!” said Miss Bingley when they had all been served.

  “You are all very welcome,” replied Darcy. “We have anticipated your coming.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” simpered Miss Bingley, as if she thought his words were spoken for her benefit alone. “Derbyshire is so lovely, I am certain I could spend the rest of my life here.”

  Darcy almost gaped at her. The woman had never been subtle, but he had not ever known her to be so unconcealed in her attempts to induce him to offer for her. Bingley also appeared surprised, for he frowned at her. It was obvious that he had taken her aside—again—and informed her of his sure knowledge that Darcy would not offer for her. It was equally evident that the woman had not paid him any heed. After years of pursuing and failing to entrap him, it may be that Miss Bingley was becoming desperate. Darcy did not think she would be so crass as to attempt a compromise, but he would have to be on his guard.

  The company sat together for some few minutes, making trivial conversation. As they sat, Darcy tried to study Mrs. Bingley without making it obvious that he was doing so. The woman was serene—there was no other way to describe her. But at the same time, Darcy thought he detected a hint of strain about her, a tightness around her mouth and a wariness in her eyes. On several occasions, she looked toward Miss Bingley, as if attempting to determine how she should act. Darcy did not quite know what to make of it. Mrs. Bingley was an enigma.

  A few moments later, Darcy’s attention was caught by Georgiana, who had been speaking with Mrs. Bingley, though he did not think their words had concerned any subject of consequence.

  “You are aware that your sister is visiting your relations here in Derbyshire?” asked Georgiana.

  Mrs. Bingley responded she was aware, but though she seemed like she was about to say something else, she subsided. Instead, Miss Bingley stepped into the conversation.

  “Oh, yes, Eliza was to come here,” said she, her voice colored with an exaggerated level of languor. “Has she acquitted herself well in Derbyshire?” The sneer on her face was unmistakable. “I dare say she traipses from here to there with no thought of her petticoats or the state of her boots. She can be quite wild when she puts her mind to it.”

  Watching Mrs. Bingley as he was, Darcy noted the tightening around her eyes at Miss Bingley’s criticism, but it was Georgiana who responded.

  “Actually, Miss Bingley, Elizabeth has become a very good friend. I would be quite bereft if I was denied her company.”

  Mrs. Bingley positively started at this bit of information a
nd looked to Miss Bingley, while Miss Bingley looked at Georgiana through narrowed eyes. “Eliza is often at Pemberley?”

  “She is, indeed, Miss Bingley,” said Georgiana, seemingly unconcerned about the woman’s displeasure. “Your cousin, Olivia,” continued Georgiana, looking at Mrs. Bingley, “has also become a dear friend. I look forward to our continued acquaintance for many years to come.”

  The smile which appeared on Mrs. Bingley’s face was tentative, but Darcy thought it to be genuine. “I am happy to hear it, Miss Darcy. I am . . . eager to see my sister again.”

  “We are all grateful that you have taken our Eliza into your home,” said Miss Bingley, though her tone told a different story. “As a friend, however, I would advise you not to emulate her, Georgiana. She possesses some habits which are not at all fashionable and would not be received well in higher society.”

  “There is nothing wrong with Elizabeth’s manners,” said Bingley, a warning note in his voice. “I, for one, anticipate being in her company again.” Bingley turned to Georgiana. “When do you expect her to visit?”

  “She is visiting with friends today, a longstanding engagement as I understand. I shall send a note around, inviting her to come on the morrow so that she may greet you all.”

  “An excellent idea,” said Darcy, forestalling whatever Miss Bingley was going to say. The woman subsided with a huff.

  Before long, the Bingleys were shown to their rooms to rest and prepare for dinner. As they were walking out of the room, Darcy saw Miss Bingley step close to Mrs. Bingley’s side and begin talking to her in earnest. What she was saying, Darcy could not fathom, but she did not cease the whole time they were within Darcy’s sight.

  “Miss Bingley truly is an admirable creature,” said Fitzwilliam once they were gone. “If I ever wished to be reminded of how those of high society behave, I have only to watch her. I am then reminded what I am not missing when I am not in London.”

  “I wanted to remind her of her origins when she disparaged Lizzy,” said Georgiana with a huff of annoyance. “How I wish we were not required to endure her.”