A Surprise Engagement Page 2

  If this transformation surprised him, it delighted the ladies, who had grown closer by their so often being together. This did please Darcy, for he saw some of Elizabeth’s strength giving energy to Anne, and his cousin began to speak eagerly of her plans and pursuits once more. She rarely mentioned Kent or her mother, and he fancied Lady Catherine’s silence weighed heavily on Anne, but instead of allowing such feelings to draw her into melancholy she pressed on, intent on making her life the best she could in Derbyshire.

  “Well,” Elizabeth said, as their conversation dwindled. “We will leave you to get settled.”

  Bidding their new tenants farewell, Darcy and Elizabeth began a slow walk back towards Pemberley.

  “We might have ridden, you know,” he said, his lips quirking at the thought.

  “You might have,” Elizabeth replied, archly. Swallowing a laugh, she took the arm he offered and fell to her walk, pointing out certain pretty trees or corners of the grounds that she particularly wished to explore.

  “I suppose we might send for Georgiana, now that Wickham is gone.”

  “We might have sent for her sooner,” Elizabeth remarked. “They have been together more than once, and no murder has taken place.” She nudged him in the side. “A fact of which I am still a little surprised.” She stopped, suddenly, the change in motion compelling him to stop, also, and he turned a questioning glance towards her.

  “Are you sure you do not mind it?” Elizabeth asked. She nodded back towards the cottage. “Them. Staying here.”

  “Mind?” Darcy frowned. “I cannot say I do not mind it. I still mind it that they are married at all.” His scowl darkened, then lifted, almost imperceptibly. “But I prefer it to the alternative. Here, I might be certain of Anne’s wellbeing.” And certain of Wickham’s good behaviour.

  Elizabeth nodded, so knowing that it was as if he had spoken these last words aloud.

  “I cannot pretend that Wickham and I will ever be friends as we once were. But we might tolerate one another. Perhaps even grow to respect...” his words trailed off, and he shook his head, ruefully. “Perhaps respect is too strong a word.”

  “But even you must see how much effort he puts into changing?” Elizabeth asked, carefully watching him for any reaction. “He works harder than I thought possible.”

  “For him, certainly!” Darcy began to walk once more. “You need not fear. If I have survived this long without running George Wickham through I think we might manage another year or two. Particularly if I am not forced to look at him across the breakfast table every morning!”

  Elizabeth laughed, and Darcy knew that she recalled, as he did, more than one meal partaken in stony silence, with both ladies helplessly attempting to encourage their husbands into conversation and failing miserably.

  “Perhaps I will ride over to Lattimer Place this afternoon and see how Georgiana is fitted to return,” Darcy mused. “We might take a carriage if you care to accompany me?”

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  “You are very kind, but I must write to Jane.”

  Her voice had taken on an almost sorrowful tone.

  “Ah, yes. The soon-to-be Mrs Heatherington.” Now it was his turn to nudge his wife for a response. “Are you not happy to think her happy?”

  “I am disappointed.” Elizabeth sighed. “I had intended her for Mr Bingley.”

  This was too much to bear without comment and Darcy laughed.

  “That is not the matter I recall! You were quite adamantly opposed to the match in London if memory serves.”

  “That is because I thought him fickle. Now I know he is not, merely easily led by that sister of his.” Elizabeth tossed her head. “I had quite forgiven him his cruelty to dear Jane, even before he was so helpful to me in getting to Scotland. Now, I thought, I might invite Jane to stay with us here and introduce them once more and then we might all be happy together. Do not you think it would be pleasant, having them living close by?”

  “You forget, Bingley still has the use of Netherfield Park.”

  Elizabeth sniffed as if she did not imagine him ever returning to inhabit it now that Jane was lost to him.

  “I have known Charles Bingley longer than you,” Darcy began. “And whilst I do not doubt his feelings for your sister were genuine -” Elizabeth was poised to counter him, and he spoke quickly to remedy his error. “Are genuine, then. Perhaps he loves her still, I do not know. It is not as if we gentleman speak as freely or as often of our hearts as ladies would wish! Either way. I am all too familiar with Charles’ propensity to fall in love quickly and completely. He has done so before, I dare say he will do so again.” A thought occurred to him and he shared it without further reflection which was, he soon realised, an error.

  “There is an early spring assembly at Newton in just a week. He is bound to stumble upon some pretty young lady there and all heartbreak at the loss of your sister will be forgotten.”

  “An assembly?”

  Elizabeth’s interest was undeniable and Darcy groaned.

  “And now I see my error! Hearing of such a gathering, you wish to attend it, and will force me to accompany you, though I am an old married man and thought myself free at last of such obligations.”

  “You are free of having to talk to anyone,” Elizabeth conceded. “Although I will not excuse you from dancing at least once or twice with me.”

  Hanging his head, Darcy walked another step at a shuffle, before turning, and taking his wife’s free hand in his own, drawing her into a mimicked dance, and, laughing, they twirled their way back towards Pemberley, all thoughts of Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley forgotten in their amusement and happiness with one another.

  DEAREST JANE,

  Mary told me your news. I can scarcely credit it! Why, though, did you not write to me yourself, wretched sister that you are? I thought us friends! I felt certain that of all my sisters, you and I were truly friends...

  With an irritable groan, Elizabeth ripped her paper in half, casting it aside.

  This was the third letter she had attempted to compose to Jane in an hour, and each had been similarly discarded. Even writing to Mary had been a challenge and one that she had not fully succeeded at yet. Pushing her chair back, she stood and walked a few paces, wringing her hands as if she might somehow wring words from them. She returned to her seat and reached once more for her pen, shuffling her papers until she found the letter she had begun to Mary and resuming where she had left off.

  I am in shock, Mary, and there is no other word for it. Jane engaged? To a stranger? It is some joke, surely. Or else Mama has pressed her into it. How I wish I could be there with you to discover the truth. But, alas, Derbyshire is no small distance and we have cares of our own.

  She fell to a description of all that had elapsed in the past few weeks, dwelling with pointed enthusiasm on Mr Wickham’s apparent transformation. She knew it likely that Colonel Fitzwilliam, were he to see the contents of his wife’s letter, would be as reluctant to believe such change possible as Darcy was. But she hoped that Mary, who had been still more kind and generous in spirit than Elizabeth was, would receive the news happily. She knew her sister cared for Anne as Elizabeth did and it was their concern for their friend that enabled them to think well of Mr Wickham, while their husbands arguably knew him better and judged him rather more sternly on account of it.

  And so Georgiana will return to us, soon I hope, for I have not yet had much opportunity to know her. I thought at first that she did not like me, for despite their appearances being utterly dissimilar believe me when I say she has inherited the Darcy frown!

  Elizabeth smiled, the image of both brother and next to one another scowling striking her as amusing.

  And I feel certain she has far more in common with you than I. With Anne too. Dear me, what a lot of musicians I seem to draw about me! It is surely some trick of Providence, for you know I do not have a musical bone in my body. And yes, I can well hear your reply, you need not write it. “You are as
musical as any of us, Lizzy, if only you might discipline yourself to practice...!” You know, sister, that I do not like to discipline myself towards anything that requires quiet, careful study. My woeful embroidery will attest to that. No, give me my books and a pair of good boots to walk in and I shall be almost entirely happy. I say “almost” for whilst I adore Pemberley and feel quite at home here in Derbyshire already I cannot deny I miss my sisters...

  She sat back, lifting her pen from the note in surprise to find that, in spite of her attempts to dwell on other subjects, her words had led her straight back to Jane. Taking a steadying breath, she continued.

  Tell me, do, how is Jane? I need not enquire after Kitty or Lydia for I am certain they are much the same as they have always been, although I hope a little tempered as they weather the marriages of not two but three sisters. I expect Lydia is devastated not to be among them, but Kitty, I wager, feels overlooked all the more. You must pay special attention to her, Mary, for you, I think, more than any of us, know what that feels like. But anyway let us speak of Jane, for my thoughts cannot help but stray to her most often. I had endeavoured to invite her to Pemberley, but now that she is to be married I suppose that is not to be...

  She scarcely knew how she ended the letter, with the sort of trite sentiment she usually despised in her correspondents. In truth, her mind was already in Longbourn ahead of her note, and she strained to conjure an image of Jane that would satisfy her.

  His name is Heatherington at least, and I suppose for that we must be glad. A thought occurred to me one evening, quite by chance and before I heard of Jane’s engagement, that Mr Collins might make plain his intentions one more. Mama spared Jane only on account of Mr Bingley last time. With him gone what would prevent her from encouraging Jane to marry Father’s cousin and secure Longbourn? It would be just the sort of scheme Mama would endorse, and never mind the happiness of her daughters.

  Lizzy bit her lip.

  I suppose that may fall to Lydia or even Kitty now.

  She snorted, the very idea of pious Mr Collins being entrapped into a marriage with either of her silly young sisters striking her as amusing.

  In that case, I shall reserve all sympathy for Mr Collins, for I cannot imagine him well suited to either sister or they to him. What a disastrous pairing either one would make!

  Satisfied to end on a happier note, rather than the despair she had earlier felt over Jane’s fate and distance from her, she blotted the letter and sealed it, before she could change her mind. She was late in responding to Mary’s note and did not wish to worry her sister unduly.

  Jane, on the other hand....

  Lizzy felt a flash of irritation that her sister had not written to her herself to tell of the news.

  With an unhappy sigh, Lizzy turned towards the window, allowing the vista of Pemberley’s grounds to soothe her fractured thoughts. Perhaps this is what marriage is, she thought. Saying goodbye to former friends and making space for new ones. She had not spoken to Charlotte in a great many weeks, and yet she did not feel the same ache for her friend as she did for her sister. Charlotte was too sensible to acquiesce to Lizzy’s determined plan to wed for love.

  Her lips quirked.

  And yet it was Charlotte who had encouraged Lizzy to marry Mr Darcy, Charlotte whose practicality in approach to matrimony that induced Elizabeth to consider carefully and make her decision with her mind as well as her heart.

  Feeling better induced to write to her friend in light of this, she reached for a fresh sheet of paper.

  “Charlotte, dear, it has been an age. Tell me all the news at Lucas Lodge. As you may see from my enclosed address, Mr Darcy and I reside at Pemberley at last and dear me, how different everything seems to be now...

  Chapter Three

  “Darcy! Come in, do.” Charles Bingley welcomed Darcy warmly to Lattimer Place that afternoon when Darcy rode over to visit. He had intended to call on his sister but could not deny his delight at being afforded the chance to see his old friend once more too.

  “Georgiana is out,” Charles said. “She has been pressed into a visit to Newton with my sisters.” He grinned comically. “Although I wager she was not delighted by the prospect, but not quick enough to concoct a reason not to.”

  “I see you escaped unscathed.”

  “Barely!” Charles laughed. “Indeed, I owe it to my brother-in-law. Mr Hurst had some business matters to attend to and desired his carriage, and it was on that account the ladies went at all.” He sighed. “I admit I do not regret their absence. It is not often one is afforded some peace and quiet here!”

  “Then I feel I may come bearing good news,” Darcy said, following Charles into a room he had claimed for his own study and sinking into a chair opposite him. “Mr and Mrs Wickham have absented themselves from my home to make their own at the lodge, and so the path is clear once more for Georgiana to return home, at whatever point she so desires.”

  Charles nodded but did not speak straight away.

  “I rather fear we have imposed on you, and upon your brother-in-law in asking you to host her so long,” Darcy continued. “I - I am grateful you were willing to, for I did not like to have her at home with Wickham under the same roof. It would be cruel, too cruel...”

  “Indeed,” Charles said, shortly. “And yet, they have met now. They have been once or twice in the same company and the world has not ended.” He smiled, faintly. “Do you know, Darcy, I rather think you underestimate your sister’s strength of character. Which is surprising, considering the lady you chose for your wife. You do not imagine all women to be dainty, delicate creatures.” He frowned. “Or as highly strung as certain members of my own family have the potential for being.” He coughed. “But you did not ever hear such an admission from my own lips.”

  “Will you stay here, then?” Darcy asked, changing the subject and allowing his friend to lead the conversation to altogether safer topics. “Caroline is content to remain? You still have the use of Netherfield, do not you?”

  “Yes....” Charles said slowly. “And I own I had intended upon returning there. But now...with things...well, things are somewhat different now.” He shrugged his shoulders, affecting an ease that was not entirely convincing. “I am undecided. I imagine Caroline would prefer to return to London, and so perhaps we shall go there.”

  He did not sound entirely enamoured with the prospect, and Darcy wondered idly if it was the notion of London or the company of his sister that was responsible for his friend’s reluctance.

  “You might stay in Derbyshire a while longer,” he said, lightly. “No doubt you are welcome to remain here as long as you choose. I certainly do not regret having a friend so close at hand.”

  “You mean Mr Wickham is not close enough to do?” Charles had said this lightly, teasingly, and Darcy resisted the urge to box his friend’s ears and teach him a lesson for his cheek.

  “Wickham is not friend enough to do,” Darcy remarked drily. “And with Richard poised to remain in Hertfordshire...” he sighed.

  “Ah, I see. You fear being henpecked with nought but ladies for company.”

  Charles laughed and Darcy laughed too.

  “Yes. I would not have phrased it quite so, but yes, that is at least partly my concern. Besides, spring is almost upon us, and surely you would rather the country than the town when the weather turns?”

  Charles groaned and Darcy knew the matter won.

  “I shall relinquish my hold on Netherfield,” his friend remarked, after a time. “There is little enough reason to return now, with Miss Bennet married.” He lifted his gaze momentarily to Darcy’s, and his eyes were falsely bright. “Oh, I know you will tell me she is not wed yet but it is near enough not to signify. I fear we had our chance some time ago and providence has acted so much in the intervening weeks that there is no going back now. Truly, I wish her well.”

  Darcy said nothing but reached a hand out to clasp his friend’s shoulder. He had misjudged Charles, assuming his affection
as fleeting as any he might have formed previously for other young ladies that crossed his path. The Charles he saw now was no boy, bristling at being thrown over for another. He bore the disappointment, but it was a disappointment indeed. Darcy must do what he could to help ease the burden.

  “Come, let us go for a ride this afternoon. The ladies are out, you say, and I have not the mind for sitting idly indoors awaiting their return. I do not know Lattimer’s environs well, so you might introduce me to it.”

  This suggestion cheered Charles, who was not of a disposition towards melancholy, and their short journey to the stables saw his old friend chattering as merrily as he had at any point previously in their friendship.

  “You’re content to ride your own horse, I presume?” He grinned. “Or if you prefer there’s Georgiana’s contented little thing.”

  This reference brought Darcy’s up short and he raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, she is not Georgiana’s properly,” Charles said hurriedly. “Only she took a liking to her, and as neither of my sisters are fond of riding, nor of horses at all, she may as well be Georgiana’s.”

  Darcy’s expression relaxed a fraction

  “I did not realise Georgiana rode.”

  “No more did I!” Charles said. “Capital talent she has at it too, for a lady.” His smile faded. “You do not mind it?”

  “Mind it? Not at all!” Darcy laughed, but it did not sound entirely genuine even to his own ears. “I knew her fond of riding years ago but thought she’d tired of it of late. I am sure it suits her well to be out of doors, only...” he was not quite sure how to phrase his next question.

  “She does not ride far,” Charles said, quickly. “And always as part of a group. I on my horse, she on hers. We even take a groom and a maid with us, poor souls. So we do little more than walking the horses around.” He sighed. “Hardly exercise for a gentleman, so I’m glad you suggested we go for a real ride. Come, Darcy, let’s not linger, lest the weather change!”