Mr Darcy’s Legacy

Chapter 10

D arcy needed to be alone with Elizabeth, and fortunately, that was about to happen; that evening, Georgiana was to accompany Bingley and Jane to dine at the Hurst family. The invitation had been extended to them several days prior, and Darcy had declined on behalf of himself and Elizabeth. Yet, in light of the day’s recent events at the club, Georgiana and Jane had the secret mission of informing the dinner guests about Darcy’s meeting with the Duke of Blandford and the ball the duke would have in Darcy and Elizabeth’s honour. It was such a privilege that Darcy was sure the Bingley sisters would reflect on their attitude towards Elizabeth. If Elizabeth were received by the duke as a guest of honour, nobody in London would dare speak of her with other than respect.

“It is not so utterly important how they treat me,” Elizabeth said to the Darcys, Jane, and Mr Bingley assembled in the music room.

Georgiana was playing the pianoforte, trying to act normally and release the tension that Lady Anne’s letter provoked.

“It is for me!” Darcy said with conviction.

Bingley—who was entirely on their side regardless of his kinship with the Hursts—planned to use the new relationship with the Duke of Blandford to make his two sisters understand that an unfriendly attitude towards Elizabeth was not to their advantage. In many circles in London and elsewhere, friendship and a benevolent attitude were obtained by ruse and privilege rather than natural admiration, respect, or truth.

In the past, Darcy had little regard for such schemes. However, since Elizabeth became his intended, he wanted only respect and kindness around her, and lately, it did not matter how those attitudes might be obtained.

Elizabeth would naturally enchant persons of goodwill by her wit and manner; as for the others, he would subdue their attitudes by his influence and this new protection from Blandford. He would not tell the whole truth to Elizabeth because it was not a vital matter between them. He was glad Georgiana understood his plans and could cunningly play her part. Not that he wanted to continue a close relationship with Bingley’s sisters in the future, but they were important in a particular circle in which they circulated. He intended to take his wife and leave for Pemberley immediately after their wedding breakfast and to pass a quiet winter with only Georgiana and Lady Edwina, who would eventually join them.

“I know you do not care about Caroline and Louisa’s opinion,” said Georgiana as she played, “but now that you are going to be Mrs Darcy, I think all old animosities must end.”

“Georgiana is right,” Darcy said. “They need to tame their gossip about us and find new victims.”

Jane nodded as she approved those ideas. “I do not understand how people have gossip as their principal activity. As soon as someone leaves a room, they begin to talk about that poor individual, and then when he comes back, they smile as if nothing happened. It is a side of human nature I do not comprehend. They like and dislike someone out of motives I cannot accept. I wanted so much to live in London, but I can say that I am mostly disappointed.”

It was a strong declaration for Jane, so honest and full of wisdom that everybody looked at her with admiration. Only then did she realise what she had said and colour violently.

“I am sorry,” she continued. “Perhaps it is not for me to judge.”

“Well, my dear future sister,” Darcy said warmly, “do not feel a bit sorry. We admire your position, and I assure you it is also ours. It seems the society around us does not appreciate respect and honesty, and we have to oblige them by playing a game and using our rules. They respect wealth, titles, and power, so they must see we are rich and powerful.”

On these words, Bingley prepared to take the ladies to the Hursts’ home, happy to see Jane after only three hours of separation. As they left, Darcy wondered what spell the eldest Bennet girls had put on them. But the door was barely closed before he took Elizabeth in his arms, a moment of peace and love he had dreamt of since the morning.

“Come, my love,” he whispered in her ear, and to her surprise, they headed towards her room.

The panel was open, the two portraits facing one another. Darcy stood in between, watching them by turn; then, he looked at Elizabeth sitting on the sofa.

“What is your impression of this story?”

Elizabeth hesitated briefly.

“Come, Elizabeth—tell me what you think about this story. Do not scruple.”

“They loved each other. That is the only answer. It is obvious how she arranged the paintings, then her last words about marrying only for love. They likely wanted to marry but were not allowed to do so.”

“Yes, I arrived at the same idea. But it is difficult to imagine my mother in circumstances other than those I knew her. My mother in love with another man—it is simply preposterous for me, and I am sure for Georgiana could be even more delicate.”

“She was a woman.”

“She was my mother!” Darcy sat at the far end of the chaise.

Standing beside her in his mother’s bedchamber, Darcy was sorrowful, angry, and frustrated, his emotions laid bare, making no attempt to conceal his feelings as he had done all afternoon for Georgiana’s sake.

Though her heart was full of worry and sorrow over this unusual situation, it was her turn to be strong and wise. Besides her, he could unveil his inner feelings without fear or shame, which showed the profoundness of their relationship. They were lovers, friends, and companions!

“I understand your torment. But your mother was probably very young. You need to accept that she had a life before becoming a wife and mother—just as you told me that you had such a life,” Elizabeth said, her words carrying a comforting understanding that resonated with Darcy.

“You remembered.” Darcy met her gaze with a sudden smile that sliced through his frustration. He reached toward her, an unmistakable longing in the gesture, yet instead of stepping into his embrace, Elizabeth offered him her hand. For a moment, he simply regarded it, then, with deliberate tenderness, he began to kiss her fingers, one by one.

“What am I to do, my love?”

It was a complicated problem; his mother left the decision in his hands. He could hide the portrait, throw it away forever, and never open that discussion again—but never know the use of that key.

“What do you really want?” Elizabeth asked him. “To ignore your mother’s secret forever?”

“I know her secret!” he said. “I am absolutely sure she loved the duke. We both know it. It was so simple to understand from the paintings and her letter—even the duke’s attitude towards me spoke clearly. And he loved her, too. He wanted to help me—her son. He was worried about me. What a strange coincidence to meet the duke when we needed a friend. This morning, he said he wanted to know me and help us in any way he can.”

“There are no coincidences, my love. I am sure Lady Anne watches your and Georgiana’s steps.”

Darcy was silent, playing with her fingers; then he looked at her. “How far can a child go into his parents’ secrets?”

“As far as his parents allow him. Your mother left the door slightly ajar, letting you decide whether to open it further or keep it forever closed. But you see my dear, I am a woman…”

Darcy looked at her and laughed, a teasing laugh that meant many things between them.

“I shall rip that smile from your face, sir, in just two weeks! I intend to be a woman, a real woman who will make you regret all the mockery I have endured these last days!” She was laughing, too.

“You imagine some specific punishments, madam?”

Elizabeth threw a cushion in his face, but it did not stop his laughter. He approached her and took her in his arms.

“Come, Elizabeth, tell me what to do.”

The proud and arrogant man she met a year ago asked her to decide such a delicate matter. It was a change she perceived in its immense value and brought her intense happiness. She closed her eyes and let all the winds of love fill her. Darcy was right: being away from his arms for two weeks seemed long. If he made a gesture that night, she would instantly agree to be his, right there under the eyes of his mother and the duke.

But Darcy just embraced her and lightly caressed her. He was a man soon to be married, but that night, he was also the young boy he used to be when he came in the afternoon into his mother’s parlour to find her writing.

“Speak, my love,” he whispered in her ear, making it difficult for Elizabeth to answer. so she rose up to see his face before she spoke.

“If your mother wanted her love story to be forgotten, she would have buried it without a word. But she wanted you to know about it.”

He looked at her with confidence, so she continued. “Do not let her story be lost forever. That is what I think. I agree it will be difficult for you, and her gesture is quite selfish, but you are an adult, and you must carry out her last wish. Ultimately, she wanted you to know her secret. As for Georgiana…it is too late to let her out of the secret.”

“In this mysterious and difficult-to-accept affair, there is but one fortunate aspect—the duke rose up as our protector, and from this moment onward, we won London.

“Not by fair battle,” Elizabeth laughed.

“There is no fair battle against gossip, deceit, and malice,” Darcy replied, and Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

“You are right,” she said. “I am a lady of both virtues and flaws, yet until now, only my faults have been scrutinised. If it takes a duke for London to acknowledge my better self, then so be it.”