Chapter Eighteen #3
Her husband’s mouth fell open in surprise, and then he chuckled. “Because he knew if he gave it to you, I would not protest. He is as wily as his wife and sons. Where is it located?”
“In Ware, not so very far from Longbourn.”
He took the note and read it. “I suppose it will serve as a place to stay when we are in the area, and for your mother should she ever require it. Eventually, it could be a property for our second son.”
“Second son?” Elizabeth asked, amused. “Should we not have one first?”
“There is no hurry,” William said, taking her hand. “I would be very pleased to have you to myself for a time.”
Elizabeth considered being alone with her husband. It sounded marvelous.
“What are you thinking, my dear?” William asked. “Are you unhappy with my uncle?”
She laughed. “Yes, I am terribly unhappy that your uncle has given me a home. The audacity!” She pulled William down to the chaise with her. “No, I was simply wondering where you shall take me next.”
William’s eyes narrowed. “We have been to the Opera House, madam, all the museums, the menagerie . . .”
“And yet you have not answered my question,” Elizabeth declared playfully. “Where shall we visit next?”
“I am sure I do not know,” Darcy said playfully. “We have already been to concerts and plays and dinners and even three balls.”
“Even after forcing you to endure three balls,“ Elizabeth said teasingly, “there is somewhere else I should like to visit.”
William groaned but took her hand. “I am yours to command, my love.”
Elizabeth smiled widely. “That is good to hear, William. For I should like to travel to Longbourn.”
His face lit up like the fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens, where he had taken her only last week. “Does that mean . . .”
“It means that after Longbourn, I shall be ready to go home, William,” Elizabeth informed him sweetly. “To Pemberley.”
Elizabeth held her hand up in the window of the carriage. She waited until she could no longer see Mama waving her best lace handkerchief in farewell before lowering her hand and leaning back into the squabs.
“You were extraordinarily kind to my family, William,” she said tenderly. “I know they can be trying, but I do love them all.”
“I know you do,” William replied with a crooked smile. “I will do all I can to be prepared to face the onslaught of Bennets and Gardiners when they visit us in August.”
Elizabeth worried her bottom lip. “I confess I am feeling equal parts delight and trepidation.”
“The weather should be excellent,” William assured her. “The children will have more than enough time outside to run off their exuberance.”
“I think you know whose exuberance concerns me, and it is not anyone with the name of Gardiner.” Elizabeth gave him a look askance.
“It will be well, Elizabeth. We are all family.” He took her hand. “Now, I have only this morning received letters from both our Fitzwilliam cousins. Would you care to hear Henry’s first?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, lifting her eyebrows. “Henry always has the best news. I often do not know whether your aunt is his source, or whether he is hers.”
“I suspect the gossip flows in both directions,” her husband said wryly. “Who do you suppose his latest rumor concerns?”
She stared at William for a moment, thinking. “I am afraid I do not know. Most of our acquaintance has removed from town.”
“No?” he asked. “Very well.” He paused. “Mr. Bingley is married.”
Her mouth fell open. “To whom?“ she asked, incredulous.
“Miss Matilda Johnson, as was.”
Elizabeth tipped her head to one side. “I do not believe I know her,” she said.
William laughed. “No one does. According to Henry, she is the daughter of a moderately successful tradesman who decided she wished to wed him.”
She scoffed. “And Mr. Bingley had no say in the matter?”
“Not after he was caught alone with her in his arms.” William cleared his throat. “I am told that she has four rather large brothers who were not best pleased.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Oh, please do tell me they were in the library during a ball.”
William laughed softly. “I do not know in which room they were found, but it happened at a country assembly. The gossip is that she threw herself at him and declared her undying love. Bingley was quite unhappy. Alas, he has no sheep farm to make his enthusiastic bride rethink her choice.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked, bemused.
He shook his head. “Never you mind.”
“Well,” she said, shaking her head, “my goodness. What have you to tell me next?”
“Henry also thanked me for hiring Anders’s cousins so that he could meet them. According to him, they are now often in his employ and are enjoying themselves immensely.”
She shook her head. “I am pleased to hear it, but I meant the letter from Fitz.”
“Ah,” he replied. “This is less entertaining, but I hope you will like it nearly as well. Fitz and your sister have settled into their new home and are ready for company. Would you care to visit for a few days next month?” he inquired, his eyes alight with mischief.
“I believe my cousin is troubled that he cannot simply order the crops to grow in neat rows and that the weeds are not afraid of him.”
“That is enough from you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said with mock exasperation. “I should love to see Jane, but I believe Fitz has adapted very well from the life of a colonel to that of a landed gentleman.”
William nodded. “That is because Fitz has always been a gentleman in the ways that truly matter.”
Elizabeth put her arms around his waist. “Just as you have always been principled in every way that matters.”
“Thank you, my dear,” her husband murmured.
She had embarrassed him. Elizabeth sighed. “I have thought on it a good deal, you know.”
“What is that?” William asked, holding her a little closer.
“A gentleman’s honor.”
“Really?” he asked, a bit of surprise in the question. “And what have you determined?”
“When I arrived in London,” she began to say but stopped when William’s arms stiffened. “Are you well?”
“Must we speak of that day, Elizabeth?”
She heard William’s pain and tightened her hold on his hand before lacing her fingers through his. “You did not act as a gentleman of honor would, my dear.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked abruptly.
She laughed lightly. “You know you did not, dearest, but this is not a rebuke.”
He relaxed somewhat at her reassurance. “You are telling me I am not honorable. Am I meant to take that as praise?”
“Allow me to finish, please.”
William complied.
“A gentleman’s honor required that you assist me.
That you send for a physician, send for my father or uncle, do what was needed to see me safe and then see me gone.
It requires that all the proprieties are followed to the letter because that is what it takes to satisfy one’s honor.
But in the end, it would have been your safety that was assured and your reputation that was protected—not mine. ”
Now there was guilt. “Perhaps, but I ought to have included Mrs. Spencer from the first.”
“You did not know how she would respond,” Elizabeth replied gently.
William shook his head. “You give me too much credit, Elizabeth. It was unconsciously done. It took your father and Sir William thinking up a dozen possible matches for you before I could admit that I loved you. I was rather blind to it all.”
Elizabeth smiled impishly. “Well, of course you were,” she said cheerfully. “You do not care for disorder, and there is nothing so disorderly as falling in love.”
“And I did fall, as you say. Long before I realized it.” He turned to her. “Did you know that I was in love with you?”
She had felt her own love but had not been sure of his. “Well, of course,” she said airily. “After all, you did clear away my chamber pot.”
William barked out a laugh. “I would make a horrible servant. I had no idea what to do with it.”
Elizabeth hummed happily. He was focused on her now and not last autumn. “Perhaps our London staff deserves a raise.”
“Already done, my dear,” William replied.
Elizabeth gazed directly into his eyes and returned to her point.
“You are not merely an honorable gentleman, William.
You are a great deal more.“ She lifted a hand to his cheek.
“You acted, always, in what you believed to be my best interests, even when they were not your own. That is true honor, not the ridiculous kind that expects men to fight duels over trifles.”
“I suppose,” he said, glancing out the window at the late spring sunshine before returning his gaze to her.
“But thinking on it now, I may have kept you close because I could not bear to let you go. I wanted you bound to me. I wanted a way to marry you without denying my parents’ expectations. That was not honorable.”
Elizabeth looked up into her husband’s face.
He had done that, it was true. But William had also acted to preserve her reputation and thus her ability to choose.
He might tell himself he would have bound her to him, but Elizabeth never doubted that had she wished it, William would have let her go.
She could have declined his proposal. She laughed at herself. She could have, but she never would.
“For most men, honor is a very shallow thing,” Elizabeth said, reaching up to touch his cheek. “I far prefer love.”
William’s eyes met hers with a gaze so intense that she began to tremble.
“As do I,” he said, and gathered her into his arms.
The End
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Excerpt from “A Gentleman’s Justice”
The ballroom was ablaze with the light of hundreds of candles. The tiny flames were augmented by the reflection of artfully placed mirrors and the crystal prisms of five enormous chandeliers. Even so, the corner of the room where Viscount Milton stood was draped in shadow.
The musicians had just completed Lady of the Lake and after a short pause to allow the dancers to rest, were now beginning to play La Deliberation.