Mr Darcy’s Legacy

Chapter 3

A s promised, Bingley arrived at Darcy House early next morning. Since he had purchased the house for himself and his future wife, Bingley resided only a few streets away from Darcy, and, unaccustomed to living alone, he would often pay his friend a morning visit, frequently sharing breakfast with him and Miss Darcy, enlivening them with his cheerful disposition.

Yet that morning, Darcy needed only a glance to find dark circles under his friend's eyes and a trace of visible distress.

"I see you are in need of strong coffee."

"You do not look very well yourself," Bingley replied. "I would guess the visit with the Matlocks did not go smoothly."

"Your guess is correct. My uncle and aunt are as displeased... and angered as I feared. Even worse, it seems Lady Catherine spread malicious rumours around London."

Bingley took his cup of coffee and leaned back in an armchair, nodding with a sad expression on his face. "I imagine it was her. Last night, I visited Louisa. She had guests at dinner, and you can guess the subject of their conversation, utterly ignoring my presence and my relationship with the Bennet family."

Darcy glanced at him. "Who was there?"

"Lady Cooper, the Lamberts, and Mr and Mrs Rupert."

"I see…" Darcy whispered.

"But be prepared to be astonished. Even when I began to fight against their malice, who do you think came to my support, declaring that he commended you for the engagement and praised Miss Elizabeth quite decidedly?"

"Who—?" cried Darcy, bewildered.

"Hurst."

"Hurst?" Darcy's astonishment was evident, provoking a smile on Bingley's face.

"Indeed," Bingley replied with unmistakable satisfaction. "He was quite decided, and he argued with my sisters more openly than I ever saw him do before."

Darcy's eyebrows rose in disbelief, and Bingley plainly laughed. "I can see you doubt it; however, it is entirely true."

"I shall thank him tonight at dinner," Darcy declared. "I hope they will attend."

The coffee burned Bingley's mouth. "Oh…" he mumbled.

"You forgot to pass on my invitation to them?"

"I confess I did." Bingley lowered his eyes like a mischievous child.

"Do not worry. I shall send them a message right away," Darcy replied that morning for the first time, amused. Since he had become engaged, the old, baffled Bingley had returned, now living entirely in the clouds of his impending marital bliss.

Relieved, Bingley smiled again. "Very well, you do that. My sisters will take it as a sign of deference."

Darcy's intentions were clear and unwavering. He had no desire to show respect to those vicious ladies who did nothing but gossip; instead, he was determined to defend Elizabeth and win over those who doubted her in that arduous battle against London, which was proving quite formidable.

"So, what were you doing?" asked Bingley, having found him at his desk.

"Writing a letter to my godmother, Lady Edwina, with plenty of details about... this upsetting situation. She announced that she would arrive in London in three days... to meet Miss Elizabeth."

"How kind of her! Such a lovely and pleasant lady."

"Very much so. She was my mother's best friend. Both Georgiana and I adore her, and I trust she will be a valuable help in refuting the nasty rumours spread by Lady Catherine. She is also close to Lady Matlock, so she might help me in that quarter, too."

"Lady Edwina will easily come to appreciate and love Elizabeth. They are the same type of strong ladies."

"I agree. And so would Lady Matlock if only she would take the trouble to meet and know Elizabeth."

"And the earl?"

"My uncle is full of anger and resentment and will not take the trouble until he sees some reason to do so. I do not want to fight with him. I know he only wishes what he believes to be best for me. And I am aware that, until a year ago, I was very much like him. Elizabeth changed me."

"Yes, she did," Bingley admitted with a laugh. "So, what is your plan for today? After you send the invitation, I mean."

"I shall meet Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner and call on Mr Talbot. Then, nothing special except to prepare for the dinner party."

"May I join you?"

"Of course, Bingley, it will be my pleasure. Is all your business complete?"

Bingley shrugged. "I do not have much business to worry about. My father left everything under good regulation."

Darcy smiled and pondered how fortunate it would have been had Mr Bingley still been alive, for he would have resolved all material matters for his friend, who now concerned himself with nothing but happiness. "Now that you will marry, you should purchase your own estate as your father long desired."

"Yes, I shall. Perhaps not right now. We have a house in London, and I am rather comfortable in Netherfield. I intend to do nothing but enjoy my marriage during the coming months, although there is a nice estate not far from London I might consider in the future…"

"Excellent plan. Now, let me change before we leave. I do not want Mr Bennet to wait for us."

∞∞∞

The day passed in such a rush that Darcy barely had time to consider it. They met Elizabeth's father and uncle and called on his solicitor. Once at Mr Talbot's office, the conversation became so engaging that time flew unnoticed.

Mr Bennet wished to make some changes in his documents that would affect his family after his death. Darcy discussed and agreed with his future father-in-law about the settlement for Elizabeth. Then they spent some time enjoying Mr Talbot and his sons' company and brandy.

Later in the afternoon, the two elderly gentlemen returned to Gracechurch Street while Darcy and Bingley each hurried home to prepare for the dinner party.

Since Gracechurch Street was a considerable distance from Mayfair, the gentlemen decided that the Bennets and Gardiners would remain overnight at Darcy House after dinner.

The excitement of having Elizabeth in his house was so intense that the joy of it overwhelmed Darcy. He asked Mrs Gibbon, the housekeeper, several times about the food, the arrangements, and the available rooms; he inspected the dinner table and the bedchambers, then changed his coat several times—all to Georgiana and his valet us amusement.

"Brother, everything is perfect as always," Georgiana said lovingly. "You know that."

"Yes, I know, dearest. I am a bit nervous, that is all."

"Do you fear Miss Elizabeth will disapprove of something?"

"Disapprove? No, no, by no means…yet…" Darcy hesitated to continue.

"Yet? Please finish your thoughts," Georgiana asked with concern.

Darcy took his sister's hands in his. "My dear, some of our relatives oppose my choice of Elizabeth. And I fear they will not refrain from expressing their opinion."

Georgiana's eyes widened in disbelief. "Surely, you do not believe they would be rude to her!"

"Lady Catherine already has been. And she has spread all sorts of rumours. My dear, I hope you do not doubt the sincerity of Elizabeth's feelings for me."

"Oh no, never! Not after I saw you both at Pemberley last summer." The girl smiled, remembering how much she enjoyed seeing her brother and Miss Elizabeth together as their love blossomed like a precious flower. "And even if I had doubts about her, I trust your judgement completely. If she is your choice, she is mine too."

Darcy kissed her forehead. "Thank you, my dear. Will you play for us tonight?"

The girl blushed. "I shall if you desire it. And I shall ask Elizabeth to join me, just as we did at Pemberley. I will see whether everything is prepared in the music room."

Darcy's heart melted as the remembrance of the wonderful evening at Pemberley—when his hopes came back to life—filled his mind. so lost was he in his thoughts that he did not even notice when his sister left, and he remained alone.

Eventually, he stepped onto the balcony to relieve his anxiety. He remained outside for some moments, enjoying the fresh, cold air and the beautiful sunset.

Slowly, other recollections connected to Pemberley embraced him. There was a time in his childhood when he caught a cold and fell ill. Not allowed to leave his chamber, he merely lay on a small couch on the balcony, watching the world outside. His father would wrap him in a thick blanket and sit with him, talking and making plans to shoot together when he recovered. It was a happy time; his father was young, healthy, and full of life. Darcy liked nothing more than being in his company and learning from him at every opportunity.

Following that rather long illness, the young Darcy feared falling ill again; therefore, he avoided cold water, open windows, or walks in the rain. He bundled himself in his warmest clothes and drank all the tisanes Mrs Reynolds prepared for him. Then, one evening, his father entered his room just before bedtime. It was an unusual visit as his father sat on the edge of the bed.

"This evening, we shall forget your illness entirely. We shall put all the memories of it in a drawer, lock it with a key, and throw the key away together."

It seemed a magic trick, but it worked, and the next day, young Darcy was once again the courageous boy he had always been. The memory of their throwing the key out the window had followed Darcy for many years in the most difficult moments that tormented him, especially after his father's passing.

Darcy searched for his father's image deep in his soul, trying to remember his features, small gestures, and the tone of his voice. He was an excellent man in every aspect of his character. Darcy loved and admired his father, although neither of them excelled in expressing their feelings openly. His father did not appear emotional—he might even seem distant or harsh—but his behaviour and actions showed his affection more eloquently than any words. And George Darcy knew how to resolve any problem. Now, it was his turn to do the same with the upsetting circumstances created by Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Things were so relaxed in Hertfordshire; now he had to stand against the ton and London and find a drawer not to hide but to annihilate their problems.

∞∞∞

Only a few days ago at Netherfield, Darcy had a single idea in his life: to see Elizabeth as often as he could. He adored the days they were together and dreaded the nights separating them. She would soon be his wife; in her eyes, he could see all the promises a woman makes to a man.

With Elizabeth, he was no longer the master of his thoughts or his senses. Bingley jested with him about his feelings. "Darcy, you were never in love before, and now you discover it at its highest level. Do not worry—you will survive."

No, he had never been in love before, so it was difficult to recognise and acknowledge the emotion. He wished he had done things better, more carefully. He should have told Lady Catherine many times, clearly and beyond any doubt, that he would never marry Anne rather than allow his aunt to repeat her unreasonable plans in public and entertain groundless hopes. He probably should have returned to London the day after his engagement and talked to the Matlocks before they had time to be convinced by Lady Catherine's malicious accusations.

Darcy shook his head to cast off such musings. It was too late for regrets; he must handle the situation that existed. Concerns about the past were useless—at least for that evening.

The cold helped him calm. Alone on his balcony, he decided it was for him to invent that drawer to contain the distressing speculations and then, with his father's image in mind, to throw away the key. And indeed, he used the magic of his childhood and his father's advice to restore his peace. He was ready to fight for the woman he loved.

With a lighter heart, he hurried downstairs, waiting for the guests, who could arrive any moment. No, they were not guests; they were Elizabeth's family—his family—and Elizabeth, the future mistress of his house…and heart!

∞∞∞

Elizabeth leaned her head against the carriage window, yet with no interest in looking at the view passing before her eyes.

The steady ride took her closer to Fitzwilliam, her heart racing with every passing moment. It had only been a day since they were together, and she missed him dearly. Elizabeth dared to anticipate the passionate moment of their meeting, his eyes eagerly searching hers, his prolonged kiss on her hand, that intense feeling travelling through her body at blinding speed. She could only imagine her entrance into his London mansion for the first time, the joy and curiosity to see every room of the house—the one that she would soon call home.

Elizabeth still felt blissful chills travel down her spine as she remembered the remarkable elegance and beauty she discovered during her first visit to Pemberley. She secretly enjoyed the vision of her future life with Fitzwilliam as it unfolded in such splendid places. There had been many changes in her life since that trip to Derbyshire, and now she faced her first visit to Darcy House as his future bride.

The news that they were to remain there for the night was thrilling. Being careful and considerate, Darcy wanted to avoid their travelling through London during moonless darkness. Yet, Elizabeth dared to hope for another reason—that, in his heart, he longed for her presence to linger through the night.

A strong emotion enveloped her as she thought about spending those hours in his house…with him…although obviously in separate rooms.

"I wonder who will attend the dinner," Mr Gardiner murmured.

"And I wonder what our children will do, alone, with their governess for the entire night." Mrs Gardiner laughed. "And who will attend the dinner, of course!"

"Come, my dear, the children stayed with the governess for a week last Christmas. You have no reason to worry."

"Well, they are four against one. Even with Tom and Sarah to help her, they will be outnumbered, so I always worry," Mrs Gardiner jested.

"My cousins are sweet and well-mannered children," Jane declared. "I am sure they will behave."

"You always put me at ease, my dear," Mrs Gardiner said, caressing Jane's hand. "But I do hope you are right."

"I rather worry whether Mr Bingley's sisters will attend and whether they will behave," Elizabeth murmured, still watching off the window.

"I worry about nothing. If I know Darcy, he has good brandy, a large library, and the capacity to resolve problems. I need nothing more," Mr Bennet concluded as Mr Gardiner nodded his approval.

Eventually, the carriage stopped before an impressive white house, light shining from every window. Breathing deeply, Elizabeth gazed at the imposing front and the massive door. She silently admired Darcy's home, yet her heart was stirred by far more than the grandeur of a mere dwelling—before her, she saw not just walls but the shape of her future, the threshold of a new life as Mrs Darcy. Once she stepped in, everything would feel different; soon, she would leave her girlhood behind to become a woman and the mistress of that house.

Darcy, accompanied by Georgiana, greeted them, followed by Bingley, happier than ever. The master of the house took Elizabeth's hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes capturing hers.

Ignoring the others, Bingley offered his arm to Jane, much to the general amusement.

"Come, let us enter," Darcy offered. "We are so happy to have you here."

"Very happy, indeed," Georgiana repeated with similar sincerity in her voice.

"As are we," Elizabeth responded with all the happiness in her heart while the kiss he placed on her hand still burnt her.

"You are the first to arrive," Darcy continued while leading the party inside. "Would you like to take a brief tour of the house before the others join us?"

"That would be lovely," Mrs Gardiner replied, smiling at Darcy's apparent anxiety and eagerness.

"But first, please make yourselves comfortable."

Footmen took the guests' coats and then disappeared in silence. Briefly introduced, Mrs Gibson, the housekeeper, and Mr Parker, the butler, warmly greeted Elizabeth, showing the way while the party slowly calmed and became more at ease with every step.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet, Mr Bennet," Georgiana said, overcoming her shyness and looking with confidence into his eyes.

"We are honoured, I assure you, Miss Darcy," Mr Bennet replied, looking at Darcy's sister with his fatherly eyes, certain that he gained not only a son-in-law but also the sixth daughter.

"We thank you for the invitation. This is a wonderful house," Jane offered, holding Bingley's arm.

"I believe we should be less formal since we are all family," Bingley said joyfully.

"I could not agree more," said Darcy. "Mr Bennet, would you like to see the library first? And we may start the tour from there."

"I would like nothing better, sir."

Half an hour passed, and their conversation bloomed into dozens of topics when Darcy and Georgiana showed the guests the main chambers of the ground floor, not only the library but also the music room and the impressive ball hall.

"And you did not see the hall from the first floor with Mama's art collection," Georgiana said with enthusiasm. Still, there would be enough time for the other places in the following days, months and years as Darcy and Elizabeth's wedding approached.

Elizabeth grew more comfortable as she succeeded in controlling her dilemmas. Holding Darcy's arm tightly, she moved along the elegant house—followed by Bingley and Jane—looking at the paintings and admiring the exquisite collection of books in the library and the pianoforte in the music room. Georgiana walked with the Gardiners and Mr Bennet, doing her best to entertain them.

Eventually, they returned to the drawing-room precisely in time to receive more guests: the Hursts and Miss Bingley.

The greetings they exchanged seemed like lines in a play; Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst smiled, congratulating Elizabeth and Jane in dishonest tones. Fortunately, drinks as a prelude to dinner saved the situation, although it was apparent they were in the midst of a conflict, all parties expecting first moves by the others.

"How was your trip from Gracechurch Street?" Miss Bingley inquired with disdain while her sister completed coping her tone, "Quite long, from what I recollect."

"Long but pleasant," Mrs Gardiner replied politely.

"Have you been in this part of town before?" Mrs Hurst asked, and Jane paled with displeasure while Elizabeth's face coloured with ire.

"We have, and I trust we shall visit more often when my nieces are mistresses of houses in the neighbourhood," Mrs Gardiner answered with the same calm politeness and a hint of satisfaction.

The allusion did not go unnoticed, and Miss Bingley took it to heart, still trying to keep a smile on her face. "Mr Darcy, shall we have the pleasure of other guests? Charles told me it is a family dinner. Will some of your relatives join us?"

The question annoyed Darcy at once, and he frowned while replying sternly, "Colonel Fitzwilliam will join us."

"What about Lord and Lady Matlock?" Mrs Hurst continued.

"I only spoke to them yesterday, and it was short notice. They had previous plans."

"Oh, I see…" Mrs Hurst glanced at her sister.

"I shall host a dinner in the coming days too," Bingley declared, then addressed Jane and her family. "Perhaps you could come and visit my house tomorrow?"

"We would like that very much." Jane blushed and looked at her father for approval.

"But, my dear Jane, I am afraid it will not be possible for you to return from Gracechurch to Mayfair tomorrow. It is not an easy distance," Miss Bingley said with pretended concern.

"It is very kind of you to worry about us; however, we shall be quite close to Mr Bingley's house! Mr Darcy has invited all of us to stay the night," Elizabeth answered sharply. She had had enough of Miss Bingley's impertinence, especially since she insisted on offending her relatives. She would not allow that—and certainly not in her future home.

A moment later, however, Miss Bingley's rudeness was forgotten. It meant nothing compared to the unexpected appearance that startled the entire party: Lady Matlock, her eldest son, Viscount Stanton, and the youngest, Colonel Fitzwilliam.