Mr Darcy’s Legacy

Chapter 13

L ady Edwina was still reluctant, but in the end, it was a thirty-year-old story that could not affect the present. The duke’s benevolence towards Darcy was a sign of reverence addressed to Lady Anne, and that could come only from a dear memory he still cherished. There was nothing dangerous in the past that could affect the two young Darcys in the present.

“A love like theirs exists only rarely,” Lady Edwina said, and all three smiled. “I know I have already told you this, but it is the only image that can translate their love into words. When they looked at each other, bolts of lightning seemed to flash between them. It was impossible not to see, yet nobody did, or at least not that mass of gossipers who usually shredded news among the ton. I think, around that time, there was a considerable scandal about a royal figure, and nobody had eyes for two young people in love. I have forgotten much from those days, but not the morning she entered my bedroom and cried, ‘I am in love, I am in love.’ Anne and her whole family were staying at my parents’ place. Your grandfather and my father were great friends. Imagine—we met when we were toddlers and never separated from that moment on. At that time your family, the Matlocks, did not have the London house and they stayed at ours whenever they visited the capital. We were both eighteen then, when the story began.”

“I was ill with a terrible cold, but they suspected influenza. I could not leave the house, and my only enjoyment was Anne’s story. We were not allowed to be too close. I remember her sitting on a chair next to the door, but she kept rising then sitting repeatedly as she told me about Will.”

“Will?” Darcy asked in disbelief.

“Yes, his name is William Fitzroy. Everybody called him Fitzroy after his ancestor except for her. He had been ‘Will’ from that first night at the ball.”

“She called you ‘Will’!” Georgiana exclaimed.

“Yes,” Darcy said. “She called me Will, and I had always thought it came from Fitzwilliam.”

“Well, the name was a coincidence. In old times, ‘Fitz’ meant ‘son’. Just as ‘Fitzroy’ is the son of the king, Fitzwilliam is the son of William. In your ancestry, there probably was a preeminent William, but the choice of your name came from your father. He decided to name you after your mother’s family, and I think Anne was amused by the coincidence. She told me once that her destiny was to live with Will, and even after they were separated, she continued to think that way.”

It was long past noon, but they did not feel tired. It was important for each of them to continue, so they decided to stay on and retire only to refresh before dinner. Edwina continued to talk, completely enveloped in memories, no longer telling a story but living it as it once was.

“Fitzroy had just turned twenty-one, so young that nobody expected him to marry. In those days, men married around thirty, and it was more than usual for a young heir to have adventures before marriage.”

Looking at Darcy, Elizabeth wondered whether that had also happened to her future husband, while a little smile at the corner of his mouth told her it had. He promised her the truth, but this day was entirely for Lady Anne.

“We were friends, yet we were different; perhaps that was why we loved each other so dearly. I was raised in London and have lived here all my life. Anna had grown up on her father’s estate near St Albans, and whenever they came to London, they stayed with us, for at that time, they did not yet have a house in the city. At times, I visited them, but I never cared for life in the countryside. We always laughed at how different we were—I was a city girl, and she was a country girl—”

Lady Edwina fell silent, her eyes brimming with tears.

“But that was not true. She was elegant and stylish without effort, it was her nature. She was born to be a princess, yet she carried the modesty of a simple girl.

“Anne was another species if you ask me. She was exactly as all girls of eighteen should be—pure, innocent, and brimming with dreams and ideals. I am certain that Fitzroy was captivated not only by her beauty but by her nature—so unlike the girls and young women who surrounded him. He had likely suggested they slip away from the ballroom, seeking refuge in the vast gardens, as he and so many others had before. Yet once alone with her, he came to understand the truth: she was not a girl for a fleeting dalliance, but one meant for a lifetime.

“They had known each other for scarcely two hours, yet already there was a quiet sense of belonging between them. Anne told me she could scarcely recall how it all unfolded—only that their emotions were overwhelming as if they had stepped into a dream and forgotten the waking world.”

In that atmosphere of love, Darcy took advantage of the little pause Lady Edwina requested. While she and Georgiana were absent, he took Elizabeth in his arms. He wanted to feel her body next to his, and she searched for his lips; for the first time in their relationship, she initiated the tender gesture. so he captured her lips and gently taught them how to mingle and surrender to his desire, and what Elizabeth thought would be only a kiss became passion and desire.

Edwina entered just moments after they parted, but her experienced eye could see the result of their embrace. She wondered whether Elizabeth had succumbed to him yet but then decided she had not. The girl was much too affected after a kiss, as it was evident that they had been kissing in her absence. A woman would have been more composed after a little kiss, and she congratulated—in her mind—the young girl for being so decided as to wait for her wedding night to be with him. She was sure Darcy also appreciated this attitude since it defined his beloved. Elizabeth was in many ways similar to Lady Anne. Still, fortunately, thirty years had passed since Lady Anne could not marry her love because someone had decided otherwise.

“She never told me about the ring or their intention to marry. It was more of a girls’ discussion, and she confessed her hope to marry him, but there were no plans or proposals. At least, this is what I knew, what she told me. Strangely, she concealed such an essential matter from me. Their courtship lasted two months.”

“They met at a ball?” Georgiana asked.

“Yes. The old duke had a ball every year on March 25. London society was present, and anyone who did not receive an invitation could be considered cut from society for at least a Season.

“You must understand that the old duke had an important influence at court. George III was the first king of the Hanover family, born in England, to speak native English. All his relatives had a horrible accent and often spoke German. It was decided when he was a young prince that he would be surrounded only by English children and, later, young English gentlemen. Fitzroy’s father and the young George were close in age and became good friends. They studied together, travelled together, and played together. I think the king understood that the duke was not interested in politics. That was not the kind of favour he wanted. It turned out that the duke’s dream was to marry Fitzroy into royalty. He failed with the king’s daughters, but the king offered him, as compensation, the hand of a Hanover princess. The marriage was decided between the parents and—”

“And this love of theirs could ruin the duke’s plans,” said Darcy sadly. “I begin now to understand the sorrow that appeared so often in Mama’s eyes.”

“If they intended to marry, as the ring shows, I understand why she kept the secret even from me. Fitzroy’s father was powerful and vengeful, and he could destroy lives as he pleased. Anne kept her secret even after they were separated—to protect her new family. She left London and St Albans and went to live at Pemberley, never to meet Fitzroy again.”

“But how? And why?” asked Georgiana, her questions almost incoherent but well understood by the party around the little table.

“My dear, thirty years ago, a girl in our society married only if the parents agreed, and when they decided on a husband, no one could refuse. There were a few love matches, but they were the exception. It is hard for you to understand, but society has evolved, and love is more important now. It has a certain value it did not have. I would say you are lucky.”

“Lady Catherine told us that, together with Lady Anne, they decided to marry Anne de Bourgh to Darcy.” Elizabeth was speaking from the fears that she could not overcome.

Lady Edwina stared in disbelief from Elizabeth to Darcy. “What are you talking about? Anne wanted her son to find his great love. She would never impose such a burden on him. Not her! Now that you know her story, you see how important love was for her.”

Lady Edwina spoke again, almost in a rage. “No! That intriguer lied to you as she has more than once in her life!”

“Do you think she had any involvement in their separation?” Georgiana asked.

Lady Edwina was somewhat sceptical. “Their separation was decided at the highest level where your grandparents or aunt had no access. Your mother married Darcy that summer. Fitzroy married in Hanover and stayed there for a long time. They were separated from each other in exact arrangements. George Darcy received many privileges around Pemberley. Even the way Darcy was selected was planned because I am sure Anne had a choice among the suitable bachelors, but Pemberley is almost three days from London by carriage—five by horseback. They wanted Anne as far away as possible.”

“Unfortunately, we shall never know more than you told us,” Georgiana said with visible sorrow.

“I would not be so sure.” Lady Edwina smiled. “Anne wanted you to know more than I know.” And she pointed her delicate hand with its beautiful ruby stone to the pile of letters on the table.

“The ring,” Georgiana said, looking at the emblazoned ring still on her finger.

“Yes! The ring, the letters—we know that Fitzroy asked her to marry him. No man would give such a ring to just any girl. Everything your mother told me was going in that direction. She only kept the proposal a secret. I am sure now that they were engaged.”

“Without the old duke’s consent?” Darcy remembered the duke gazing at him with benevolence and affection. It was not the look of a distant acquaintance but of someone closer. His Grace saw in Darcy his long-lost beloved!

“It seems that, even after thirty years, His Grace has tender memories and feelings for Mama,” Darcy continued. “I could see it in the way he treated me. And his protection frees us from the never-ending gossip our marriage would have produced.”

Georgiana was looking at the letters on the table. “This was not an unimportant relationship between two young people, nor does it matter that it lasted only two months. It seems their love survived forever. We need to read the letters to know more. I am convinced it is Mama’s wish: she wanted it not as mere confidence but as a sort of restoration. With her well-known delicacy, she did not want to hurt our father but wanted us to know she had loved and was prevented from being with the love of her life.”

“She wanted to recover in death the right to her love…” Elizabeth whispered tearfully, and they all agreed as a powerful tension filled the room.

“The secret unveiled.” Lady Edwina sighed. “Perhaps it was a triumph for her wounded love.”

No words were sufficient, nor were any necessary. so much—too much—had been said for one day. They all needed to rest after such an emotional conversation—to reflect and prepare for the secret Lady Anne wanted to unveil and share with them from beyond the tomb.

For Darcy, there was nothing else he wished for except Elizabeth. He desperately needed her company to soothe his tormented mind and soul.

Therefore, while the others retired to their chambers to prepare for dinner, he stayed only moments in his before following Elizabeth to Lady Anne’s apartment.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth’s yearning matched his. She hoped he would come to her—his dark eyes silently said as much—to comfort and support each other. It was outrageous for him to be in her chamber, but she cared little. There was no reputation to save, no honour or other principles imposed by society. Not anymore. Darcy was her man, just as William Fitzroy, Duke of Blandford, belonged to Lady Anne. In death, his mother wanted to leave a vivid trace of her love to be remembered by her children. She had been an honest and faithful wife and had never contacted the duke during her lifetime. She had played her role of mistress of Pemberley with dignity and pleasure and had adored her children. However, near death, she decided to disclose her true love and make that feeling their heritage.

Darcy entered without knocking, and Elizabeth met him with an adoring gaze as his arms tightened around her.

In a close embrace, Darcy whispered, “For the first time in her life, she could decide for herself and for her love. Nobody had the power to stop her in the realm of near death—not the king, the old duke, or her father. But she did not impose her wishes on us. There was no death-bed demand but an invitation I could take or leave.”

“We need to know everything…” Elizabeth murmured in his arms.

“Yes, we shall know the full extent of her memories—”

“I want to be with you!” she interrupted.

Elizabeth was not teasing him. There was such determination in her voice that Darcy stepped away to look at her face. She coloured, but her eyes were bright and truthful, no longer afraid or shy. She wanted to be his.

“You will…my love,” he said. “We shall be married in less than two weeks.”

“I am afraid,” murmured Elizabeth. It was not a rational fear but rather one undoubtedly influenced by the devastatingly tragic love story of Lady Anne, which they both already knew would end in sorrow.

“You have no reason to be afraid, my love.”

“I want to be yours,” she repeated, and though she blushed, her eyes did not waver from his.

“Elizabeth, you shall be. I have in my pocket the paper that grants us the right to marry tomorrow. We can go to any nearby church together, and you will be my wife. Lady Catherine is not the old Duke of Blandford, believe me. She has done all she could, but nothing can stand in the way of our happiness. Nothing can change our love and plans to marry. We are the only ones who can determine our destiny. My dear parents are both gone, and I am sure your parents are willing for us to marry—especially your mother!”

Elizabeth smiled; for once, Darcy spoke about her mother with something suspiciously looked like amused tenderness.

“We have Fitzroy on our side as well. You shall be received in the most distinguished houses of London like a princess. For now, since we know what has transpired, the duke will wish to do this—for me, for us, for you.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do,” she said without hesitation.

“Then let me kiss you and dream of our wedding night—”

“Oh!” exclaimed Elizabeth.

“Oh, madam? What does this rather unenthusiastic exclamation mean?”

“It means that any dream of the wedding night is…a sweet torment.”

“Are you telling me that it had already happened?”

She hid her eyes; she did not want him to see that more than once, she dreamt of his body close to hers.

“You did dream!” he laughed, yet trying to hide the immense yearning that overwhelmed him too.

“It is the sweet pain that anticipates the love making,” he whispered in her ear, making her tremble and sigh. “Your body is already waiting for me, my love.”