Chapter 22
“Fitzwilliam!” Georgiana Darcy screamed, hurling her slender form against her brother’s tall frame. “Oh, my darling brother, praise the Lord! You are here!”
“Georgie,” he responded, pulling her into a hearty embrace before holding her out to inspect her carefully. “I am indeed here. You look very well, sweetling.”
“I am ecstatic because you are back, and safe,” the girl responded, belated tears springing into her eyes. “I confess I gave way to fears for your safety after so many weeks without word of you.”
“Oh my dear,” he responded with quick compassion. “I was never in any danger, I assure you. And now I must introduce you to my wife. Elizabeth, my sister, Georgiana. Georgiana, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Elizabeth, you remember my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Indeed I do,” Elizabeth agreed, her own eyes filled with sympathetic tears at her new sister’s relief. “Miss Darcy, it is an honor to meet you, and of course I am delighted to see you, Colonel, after all these months.”
Georgiana, who had not even noticed the presence of an unknown lady in her delight, shrank back a little with shyness. Really, she had made an exhibition of herself.
Elizabeth, who had been warned that her new sister was shy, immediately set out to put the girl at ease.
“My dear Miss Darcy, I hope you would be willing to introduce me to the housekeeper? Fitzwilliam and I were jolted to pieces on our way from Portsmouth, and I am nearly ready to drop from fatigue.”
“Of course, I will introduce you to Mrs. Yates!”
“If you will excuse us, my love?” Elizabeth inquired.
“Of course,” Darcy replied, grateful at Elizabeth’s determination to befriend his timid sister.
The two ladies left arm-in-arm and Darcy turned to Richard, who was smirking at him.
“I see you were entirely successful in your mission across the sea, old chap.”
Darcy laughed aloud, provoking a look of wonder in his cousin’s eyes. When had he ever seen Darcy so happy?
“I found Elizabeth on St. Croix. She agreed to a courtship and then marriage, and here we are. There are other details but that is the gist of it all.”
“That is truly excellent news, Darcy. She is a lovely young lady and will be a gifted and charming mistress of Pemberley.”
“I agree. I admit to being relieved that we were able to wed before embarking on the Riley for England. Neither our aunt nor the vile Sir Claude will be able to harass her anymore.”
“Speaking of both of those less-than-stellar characters ...”
Darcy jerked his head up, his body rigid, “Yes?”
“Lady Catherine and Anne are in Town, as is Sir Claude. The latter is apparently far too busy drinking and gambling to bother with his impoverished estate, but you know it is rare for Lady Catherine to spend time in London. At Rosings, she is the ruling lady of the area, and here in Town there are dozens of people of higher rank. I am certain she does not appreciate that.”
Darcy grimaced, “So why is she here?”
“I am not certain, to be honest, since I have gone out of my way to avoid her. I did not care to lie to her about your whereabouts, you see. She is staying with my parents at Matlock Place.”
His cousin frowned, “Why not at the de Bourgh house here in London?”
“Because, Darcy, there are bats in the fireplace of Lady Catherine’s room. Naturally, the lady could not sleep in a room with bats.”
“She could presumably move to another room?”
“Also apparently untenable! That is her room and she will not be displaced into a lesser abode. The truth is that the de Bourgh home is poorly staffed and Matlock Place is not; she and my mother do not get along particularly well, but they enjoy debating with one another. I believe that Lady Catherine is quite happy where she is.”
“And how is Anne?” Darcy asked uneasily. “Do you believe she will be distressed at my marriage to Elizabeth?”
Richard chuckled at this, shaking his head, “I was able to speak privately to her yesterday while Lady Catherine was out visiting. Anne told me that she is overjoyed that you have found a woman you love. Do not be concerned for our mutual cousin, my friend. Anne has her own plans for the future, and they have nothing to do with you.”
/
“Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Bennet asked in a whisper. “Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? The man with an income of ten thousand pounds a year? That Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes, Mother,” Jane replied calmly. “He discovered Elizabeth’s direction, went after her, courted her and married her. They are back in London now, staying at Darcy House.”
For a moment, Mrs. Bennet seemed to stop breathing and Jane wrinkled her brow in concern. Was this too much for the lady?
Mrs. Bennet inhaled a deep breath and began squealing in delight.
“I can hardly believe it, Jane. Ten thousand pounds a year! A large estate in Derbyshire! My clever, clever Lizzy!”
/
“Sir?”
Baronet Daw rolled over in his bed, reached down and grabbed a random boot, and threw it at his valet.
“Go away!” he thundered furiously.
His valet, a young man who had been looking for alternative employment for weeks, sighed inwardly and continued, “Sir Claude, a man by the name of Mr. Darcy has arrived. He states that he is the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Daw sat up abruptly, sending an agonizing stab of pain through his temples. He had been up far too late imbibing Scotch in one of his favorite drinking establishments and was suffering through the painful after effects.
“Help me get dressed,” he barked at his man, who silently moved forward and assisted his bleary employer into his tightly fitted clothing. Daw, in addition to being a drunkard and a boor, also fancied himself a dandy.
Some twenty minutes later, he was dressed in forest green with his cravat carefully tied in the Oriental style.
He gulped down a hasty cup of coffee to wake himself up and made his way into the parlor where Mr. Darcy of Pemberley waited.
He knew of the gentleman, of course, though he had never met him.
Pemberley was by all accounts a vast and well run estate with an enormous income.
It was encouraging that Mr. Darcy was eager to assist him in the matter of finding Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
No doubt the younger man wished to please his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and also forge ties with a Baronet.
With any luck, Daw would be able to hit Darcy up for a loan; the debt leeches were harassing him again.
“My apologies, Mr. Darcy,” Daw said with a courtly bow, even as he felt a twinge of disappointment that Miss Bennet was not with the visitor. “I regret keeping you waiting. I am honored to meet you and trust that you bring news of my errant fiancée?”
His guest lifted an extremely haughty eyebrow at this, “Your errant fiancée, sir?”
Sir Claude looked puzzled, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Your esteemed aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, called only two days ago, and she informed me that you were looking for the girl to bring her to me. I must thank you for fulfilling a most tedious task on my behalf, sir. It is a pity that the young woman is prone to fits of emotionalism, but I am prepared to take her in hand.”
The temperature in the room seemed to plunge and the baronet froze, his face taking on the mien of a frightened rabbit as Mr. Darcy, master of Pemberley, took a few strides closer to loom over the shorter man.
“The young woman you are speaking of is my wife, Sir Claude,” he grated out frigidly. “I pursued her not to drag her to you, but to marry her myself. Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy and her entire family are now under my protection, is that entirely understood?”
Sir Claude’s brain had been sozzled by years of drink, and he had never had much control over his tongue anyway.
“You married ... my fiancée?” he squeaked incredulously. “How dare you do such a thing, Mr. Darcy?”
A moment later, Daw found himself knocked across the room to land on the sofa, the victim of a hard punch in the jaw. He lay on the couch, panting incredulously, his face twisted with fear and anger.
“You will not refer to Mrs. Darcy as your fiancée again,” Darcy growled bitingly.
“She was never affianced to you, and indeed fled to avoid your vile and proprietary attentions. If you so much as whisper that she was pledged to you, I promise that I will buy up your debts and have you cast in the King’s Bench debtors’ prison. Is that entirely clear, Sir Claude?”
The man lay in a crumpled heap on the sofa, cringing at the fury in the other man’s eyes.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy, I understand completely.”
“Excellent,” Darcy replied, turning on his heel and striding out of the house. He would need a bath to cleanse himself from the hedonism of Baronet Daw’s residence and person.