Chapter 20
T he sound of horses' hooves echoed against the cobblestones as Darcy’s carriage came to a halt. He stepped out and slowly surveyed the tree lined street. The houses were tidy with modest, well-kept gardens. Cheapside was hardly the most fashionable quarter of London, but it wasn’t Jacob’s Island, either, and the location caused him to wonder what Elizabeth’s uncle’s occupation might be.
Darcy had left Bingley at Darcy House, where they would both be staying. Bingley needed to meet with not only his own solicitors, but also those of the late Mr. Hurst. Not only were there marriage articles between himself and Jane to arrange, but there were also many questions regarding the disposal of Mr. Hurst’s property and Miss Bingley’s dowry that needed to be answered.
Suppressing his trepidation, Darcy straightened his coat and approached the door. He knocked and gave his card to the servant who opened the door. “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley and Darcy House to see Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner,” he said succinctly, his tone betraying none of the unease swirling within him.
Her widened as she curtsied and ushered him inside. “Please wait here, sir,” she said before disappearing into the house, leaving Darcy in the entry hall.
He tugged nervously on the edges of his cuffs. While he had agreed to deliver Elizabeth’s note, but the prospect of meeting her relatives—a family he had previously dismissed as vulgar—left him wary. He had envisioned individuals like Mrs. Bennet, all flutter and chatter, and yet here he was, standing before a residence that exuded quiet refinement.
Elizabeth had made it clear she did not expect him to deliver the letter personally, but the dull look on her face as she had spoken to him earlier that morning urged him to do the gentlemanly thing. Anything to bring the light back into her eyes.
After only waiting for a few moments, the servant girl returned. “Mrs. Gardiner will see you, sir. Just this way.”
Darcy followed the neat-looking maid down the hall and into a charmingly decorated living room. His sharp gaze swept over polished wood floors, modest but tasteful furnishings, and even an arrangement of fresh flowers on a side table. Everything was clean and orderly, with a quiet elegance that spoke of genteel sensibilities.
It was not what he had anticipated.
A poised woman in fashionable attire sat on a small sofa near the fire. Her hair was pinned back neatly, with an expression of curiosity and politeness on her face. She was not beautiful in the way of Elizabeth or Jane, but her features were pleasing, and her presence radiated calm intelligence.
He inclined his head. “Mrs. Gardiner, thank you for seeing me,” he said. “Your niece, Miss Elizabeth, requested that I deliver this to you.” He withdrew the letter from his pocket and offered it to her.
Mrs. Gardiner took Elizabeth’s note and opened it, her eyebrows raising high on her forehead as she read it, her expression shifting through a myriad of emotions. Upon completion, A faint crease appeared between her brows as she folded it neatly and set it aside. “I hope you will forgive me, Mr. Darcy, but I must send for my husband at once. He is overseeing matters at his warehouse, and I feel this matter requires his immediate attention.”
She signaled for the servant and dispatched the note with quiet efficiency before turning her attention back to Darcy. “Would you care to wait, or do you have other matters to which you must attend?”
Impressed by her poise and eager to see if Mr. Gardiner was more like his wife or his sister, Darcy accepted the invitation to remain, taking a seat on the other side of the room.
Mrs. Gardiner motioned to a chair opposite her. “While we await my husband,” she said, “perhaps you might indulge my curiosity. Are you by chance related to the Darcys of Pemberley?”
Darcy’s lips twitched slightly, and he braced himself for what he knew must be coming next. “I am,” he replied shortly. “Pemberley is my estate.”
To his surprise, her expression shifted to one of fond nostalgia rather than awe. “How extraordinary,” she said with a smile. “I grew up in Lambton, you see, the daughter of the rector. Pemberley plays a large part of my earliest memories. It is truly a remarkable place.”
Darcy’s brows lifted, caught off guard by her genuine, understated reaction. “Indeed?” he said. “Lambton is but a few miles from the estate. You must have known it well.”
“I did,” she replied. “Though it has been many years since I last visited. My family left when I was quite young.” There was a wistfulness to her tone, but she quickly turned the conversation back to him. “My niece writes highly of you, sir. It seems you have done much to assist her in a most trying time. Please accept my felicitations on your engagement.”
Darcy cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the praise. “I have only done what was necessary,” he said. “Miss Elizabeth’s well-being is paramount.”
Mrs. Gardiner studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she nodded. “Elizabeth is very dear to us. My husband and I regard her almost as one of our own.”
The warmth in her words struck him. He had not anticipated such a strong bond between Elizabeth and her aunt. Before Darcy could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps drew their attention. A solidly built man entered, walking with an air of calm authority. His clothing was well-tailored but practical, and his expression was amiable as he approached. “Madeline, my dear, I came as soon as I read Lizzy’s note.”
“Edward,” Mrs. Gardiner said, rising to greet him. “This is Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth’s betrothed. He brought her letter personally.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner extended his hand. “I apologize for keeping you waiting after you have traveled for such a considerable distance. It is very good of you to bring our niece’s note personally when you must have much to attend to.”
Darcy rose to his feet and shook Mr. Gardiner’s proffered hand. “Not at all, sir,” he replied. “It is I who am imposing upon you. Miss Elizabeth has been through quite the ordeal, and it will give her comfort to know that you have received her note.”
Mr. Gardiner looked at him thoughtfully. “Of course,” he said. “I understand congratulations are in order?”
“Yes, they are,” Darcy paused, then hesitantly added, “I am not certain what Miss Elizabeth wrote in her letter, but we are to be married as quickly as possible.”
“She said that she had been attacked by a member of the militia while at the estate where you were visiting your friend.” At Darcy’s nod of confirmation, Mr. Gardiner continued, “Apparently, there are rumors that you are the culprit of the attack, but she assures us that is not the case.”
“Absolutely not,” Darcy said fervently. “Indeed, my sister, my son, and my servants can all attest to the fact that I have never laid a hand on another person in my life.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Mrs. Gardiner interjected. “It is very good of you to marry my niece when you have done nothing.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Miss Elizabeth is an estimable woman; I feel fortunate in my future wife. Indeed, I have come to London with Mr. Bingley— the gentleman to whom your other niece will be wed— in order to draw up the marriage articles and secure common licenses. The nature of the rumors is such that haste is imperative.”
“That is very good of you,” Mrs. Gardiner repeated.
“I do nothing more than my duty,” Darcy demurred. “I should, however, be on my way. There is still much to do.”
Nodding in understanding, Mrs. Gardiner nodded to a maid to collect Darcy’s hat and coat. As he began to walk away from the surprisingly poised couple to follow the servant, Darcy turned back to them and impulsively said, “Mr. Gardiner, I will be meeting with my solicitors tomorrow morning. Would you care to accompany me? I would appreciate your opinion on the settlements and other details, if you are available.”
“It will be my pleasure,” Mr. Gardiner replied, the surprise he felt evident upon his face.
“That is very generous,” Mrs. Gardiner added. “I, for one, am very grateful that you are taking our niece’s well-being so seriously, given the circumstances. It greatly relieves my mind. I am only sorry that we will not be able to attend the wedding. Elizabeth means the world to us, and I never thought I would miss it.”
Darcy hesitated, sensing an unspoken worry beneath her words. “You are always welcome at Pemberley,” he said quietly. “Or at Darcy House, should you wish to visit her in London.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, sir,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “That means more to us than I can express.”
The depth of their love for Elizabeth was evident, as well as their fear that her marriage might take her away from them. It struck him then just how much Elizabeth was risking by marrying him. She was placing herself entirely in his power, trusting him to honor her and her family despite their differences in station.
As he took his leave, Darcy resolved anew to make that trust worthwhile. Whatever Elizabeth’s feelings for him might be, he would ensure her happiness to the best of his ability. It was the least she deserved.
Elizabeth is placing her life in my hands, he thought. I will do all in my power to ensure her happiness.
With that vow echoing in his heart, Darcy stepped into the waiting carriage, his purpose clearer than ever.
∞∞∞
The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Lord Matlock’s London townhouse, illuminating the elegant furnishings and casting long shadows across the patterned carpet. Darcy stood in the center of the drawing room, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid with tension.
Lord Matlock, the Earl of ---shire, sat in a high-backed chair, his eyebrows raised as he regarded his nephew. “A common license, Darcy?” His voice rose in disbelief. “And in such haste? Surely, you must see how this appears.”
Darcy’s expression did not waver. “The haste is necessary, Uncle. The situation demands it.”
“And why is that?” Lord Matlock’s asked in a chilly tone.
Darcy hesitated, his gaze dropping momentarily to the carpet. “There were… unforeseen circumstances. An incident involving George Wickham and Miss Elizabeth has necessitated a swift union.”
The earl’s eyes narrowed, his keen mind piecing together the unspoken details. “Another compromise,” he said flatly. “First Anne, and now this? Fitzwilliam, must you always marry under duress, especially when caused by Wickham? For all you know, this girl was part of the situation.”
Darcy stiffened. “This is not like before. Anne was a marriage of duty, an arrangement between families. Elizabeth is—” He faltered, his throat tightening. “She is entirely different.”
Lord Matlock raised a brow, unconvinced. “Different or not, have you considered your options? A family of their standing would be easily satisfied with a financial arrangement. It would preserve their reputation without entangling the Darcys in such a union. What is reputation when you have wealth?”
Darcy rose abruptly, pacing the room with restless energy. “You do not understand,” he said sharply. “Elizabeth is not someone to be bought off. She is principled, intelligent, courageous—far beyond any woman I have ever known.”
“Principled?” the earl drawled, his tone skeptical. “And yet it is her family embroiled in scandal.”
“It is not her fault!” Darcy snapped, his voice echoing in the room. “Elizabeth is unlike anyone I have ever known. She has faced more in the last few days than many men could endure in a lifetime, and she did so with dignity and grace.”
Lord Matlock arched a skeptical brow. “Grace, you say? A country miss, raised in Cheapside with merchants for relations?”
“She was the one who risked herself to stop Wickham, to protect those she loves!” Darcy bellowed. “I was drugged, unconscious on the floor, in a ridiculous scheme by Miss Bingley and Wickham, in order to force a compromise. Elizabeth risked her life to stop them. She has shown strength and fortitude that would shame most men.”
The door opened suddenly, and Colonel Fitzwilliam strode in, his brows raised in curiosity. “I heard shouting,” he said casually, his gaze darting between his father and cousin. “What’s this? Fitzy is losing his temper? I must hear more.”
Darcy turned to his cousin, his eyes blazing. “Richard, this is no time for levity.”
“Your cousin,” Lord Matlock interjected dryly, “has decided to marry a country miss of questionable connections and bring scandal upon our heads.”
Fitzwilliam leaned against the mantel, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, well. I’ve never seen you so passionate about anything, Cousin. Tell me, who is this remarkable woman who has managed to upend your famed stoicism?”
“Some low-born chit who got caught up in another of Wickham’s messes,” said Lord Matlock.
Darcy’s voice turned steely. “She is the daughter of a gentleman, and her compassion and wit would put many women of the ton to shame. I will not have her dismissed because of her connections.”
The earl frowned but said nothing, watching his nephew intently. Darcy’s face was flushed with passion, his usual composure stripped away.
“I have seen her kindness in the way she treats her sisters, her courage when she faced dangers most would have fled from, and her loyalty to those she loves,” Darcy continued, his voice firm. “She is not just the woman I am forced to marry; she is the woman I want to marry.”
The two men stared as Darcy began to pace. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is clever and kind, with a quick wit that leaves me in awe. She challenges me in ways no one ever has. She has brought light to a life I did not realize was so dark.”
Fitzwilliam’s grin widened, and he crossed his arms. “A paragon indeed. I must meet her. Anyone who can inspire such sentiment from you must be extraordinary.”
Darcy shrugged. “She is no paragon, Richard. She is… simply Elizabeth.”
The colonel crossed his arms with a boyish grin. “And there it is. You’ve fallen in love, haven’t you?”
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Darcy said nothing. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but resolute. “I have.”
Lord Matlock remained unconvinced. “Love,” he said, his voice tinged with skepticism. “A noble sentiment, but marriage is not built on love alone. Are you certain this young woman feels the same?”
Darcy’s breath caught, the question striking a nerve he had not yet dared confront. “She has agreed to marry me,” he said carefully. “Her circumstances are… difficult.”
The earl’s gaze sharpened. “And yet, accepting a proposal is not the same as love, as many Englishmen can attest.”
Darcy said nothing, his jaw tightening.
“I wish you well,” Lord Matlock said after a long pause. “But tread carefully, Fitzwilliam. Love cannot be one-sided.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, cousin, it seems you’ve got yourself a task ahead. I look forward to meeting this extraordinary Miss Bennet.”
Darcy managed a faint smile, but as Fitzwilliam left the room, he turned to stare out the window, his uncle’s words echoing in his mind.
Does she feel the same for you?
The question lingered, unresolved, causing the ache in his chest to increase. But whatever doubts lingered, whatever obstacles remained, he vowed to himself that he would prove worthy of her trust and affection.
For both their sakes, he had to.
∞∞∞
The polished brass plate of Fenton & Harriman gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight as Darcy and Mr. Gardiner stepped inside. The solicitor’s office exuded quiet sophistication—high ceilings, dark wood paneling, and the faint scent of aged parchment mingling with freshly inked paper.
“This firm has quite the reputation, Mr. Darcy,” Gardiner remarked as they waited in the front entryway.
“It has served my family for generations,” Darcy replied, his tone clipped but polite. “They are thorough, and thoroughness is precisely what we require.”
A clerk hurried over and greeted them with a polite bow. “Mr. Darcy, Mr. Gardiner, this way, please. Mr. Fenton is expecting you.”
Darcy and Mr. Gardiner exchanged a brief glance before following the young man through a corridor lined with portraits of stern-faced barristers. They entered a spacious conference room where Mr. Fenton, a stately man in his sixties, rose from his chair to greet them.
“Mr. Darcy, Mr. Gardiner,” he said, extending his hand to each in turn. “Please, be seated. We’ve prepared the initial drafts of the marriage articles as per your instructions.”
They took their seats at the table, and Darcy folded his gloved hands before him, his posture impeccably straight. Mr. Gardiner, though composed, shifted slightly in his chair, his keen eyes scanning the room before settling on the neat stack of documents before Mr. Fenton.
The solicitor adjusted his spectacles and began. “The provisions you requested have been outlined in detail, Mr. Darcy. To summarize, Miss Elizabeth Bennet will have a jointure of ￡30,000, and a further sum of ￡10,000 will be settled for each child born of the marriage. In addition, should anything untoward occur, provisions have been made for Miss Bennet’s financial independence. The eldest male child shall inherit Pemberley, with other inheritances to be distributed as outlined below.”
Darcy nodded tersely, his expression unreadable. “Go on.”
Mr. Fenton continued, outlining the specifics of trusteeship, inheritance rights, and contingency plans. Mr. Gardiner remained silent, though his gaze flicked toward Darcy more than once, his expression betraying a mixture of surprise and quiet approval.
When Mr. Fenton finished, he looked between the two men. “Do these arrangements meet with your approval, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Gardiner?”
Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat. “They are… exceedingly generous,” he said slowly, glancing at Darcy with an expression akin to relief. “I confess, Mr. Darcy, I had not anticipated such provisions. Elizabeth will be well-secured.”
“They are similar to the ones my father used when he married my mother. Miss Bennet deserves nothing less,” Darcy said, his voice firm but calm. “She is an extraordinary woman.”
“That she is,” Mr. Gardiner agreed.
“We will have three copies drafted and completed by tomorrow morning, Mr. Darcy,” the solicitor assured him. “You may collect them before you leave for Hertfordshire.”
“Very good,” Darcy said. He stood and extended his hand. “I appreciate your efficiency, Mr. Fenton.”
The men exchanged handshakes, but as Gardiner turned to leave, he hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “Mr. Darcy,” he said softly, “you have done more than most men of your station might. Your actions today speak of both honor and regard. Elizabeth is fortunate.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened slightly, though he inclined his head. “Thank you, Mr. Gardiner. I assure you, my primary concern is Miss Bennet’s well-being.”
As they stepped out into the fading light of the London streets, Darcy turned to Gardiner. “I will call at Longbourn tomorrow evening with the finalized documents.”
Gardiner nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I believe this union will prove to be a providential one, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy said nothing, but as they went their separate ways, he couldn’t help but wonder: Would Elizabeth ever see him as more than the man she was forced to marry?