37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Seven
April 12, 1812 Darcy House, London Darcy
“ W hat is the matter with you?”
Darcy groaned as the drapes around his bed were wrenched open. “Your valet claims you have not left this room since you arrived in town on the tenth.”
“Brisby ought not to have said anything,” he snapped.
Colonel Fitzwilliam stood over him, arms crossed and a grin on his face. “Well, I had to threaten him to gain the information. I suppose it is not all that bad. It has only been two days. Though you should open a window. It smells dreadful in here.”
“What do you want, Richard? Pray, tell me at once so that you can leave.” Darcy turned and fluffed his pillow, fully intending to go back to sleep when his cousin departed. His dreams, at least, gave him a happy future with Elizabeth. They were far preferable to his current reality.
“Have you given up so soon? You might have told me that Miss Bennet had refused you when you asked me to deliver your letter. I never thought you would be one to ignore propriety.”
Darcy turned and looked at his cousin. “Yes, she refused me. Have you come to gloat? I cannot imagine why; it is not as if you could marry her, though you two got along so well.”
Richard laughed. “Miss Bennet and I will only ever be friends. I knew that within moments of meeting her for the first time.”
“You hardly spoke,” Darcy argued. “How could you possibly have determined that?”
“I did not meet Miss Bennet at Rosings Park.”
Darcy blinked, suddenly more awake. “What?” he asked. “Where did you meet her?”
“We first became acquainted in town. She took tea with my mother. I believe you were supposed to be there, but cried off.”
Darcy remembered. His aunt had particularly asked for his attendance, saying there were people she wished him to meet. He had made some ridiculous excuse, for he had no desire to be part of his aunt’s matchmaking capabilities. “I did not know Elizabeth’s relations were so well connected.” Indeed, it was astounding that Lady Matlock had deigned to meet tradesmen, let alone host them in her home.
“Oh, they are more connected than you could possibly imagine.” Richard grinned that irritating grin he used when he wished to tell Darcy he knew things that his cousin did not.
“Out with it.” Darcy sat up and threw his blankets off.
“I think not. The story is not mine alone, and I will not betray another’s confidence. Tell me, have you given up all hope?”
He groaned. “Elizabeth does not want me. It would not be gentlemanly to press the matter.”
“She strikes me as a lady who knows her mind; that much is true. Miss Bennet did not reveal much in words when we last spoke, but her behavior seemed regretful and sad.”
“Are you saying that there may be hope?” Darcy felt that very sentiment surge within him.
“I am saying that if you can fix whatever mess you made, she may be willing to see you again. Whatever did you do?” Richard watched him expectantly.
“I behaved in the most boorish and insulting manner. I would rather not discuss it.” Darcy looked down ashamedly.
“I must have it all if I am to assist you.” Richard drew up a chair and sat backward on it. He folded his hands on the back. “Go on, now. Tell me everything.”
Desperate as he was for aid, Darcy told his cousin everything. His guilt gnawed at him, and when he finished, Richard whistled.
“I knew you were full of yourself, Darcy, but never did I imagine your pride had become anything less than regulated. Insulting a woman whilst also begging for her hand in marriage? You are fortunate she is not mercenary, else she would have accepted you and then made your life miserable.”
“Believe me, I am well aware of what a bungle I made of everything. I do not deserve her, nor even her forgiveness, but I cannot live without her. I tried after I left Hertfordshire in November, but everywhere I turned, she was there.” He sighed and rubbed a hand on his eyes.
“Well, it is good for you that I happen to be in possession of an invitation to Mrs. Norton’s annual soiree.” Richard flashed the card.
“What good will that do me?” He had no wish to socialize.
“I have it on good authority that Miss Bennet and her relations will be there.”
He froze. “How?” he asked. “How do you know?”
“My mother has her ways. She asked Mrs. Norton for the guest list. Since they are such good friends, it was easy to discover that Miss Bennet would also be in attendance.” Richard grinned again and waved the invitation in the air. “Well, do you want it?”
Darcy made to grab it, but Richard held it out of reach. “You will not get another chance,” he said soberly.
“I know—I never thought I would have a second chance. I know for sure that if I bungle this, I shall never have a third.” With that, Richard offered him the invitation.
“We shall be here to pick you up. Be ready. Since Georgiana is still at Matlock House, you have no need to worry about her.” Richard stood and tugged his coat to straighten it. “Take a bath and have your chambers cleaned,” he groused.
Darcy remained sitting on the bed. The embossed invitation sat in his hands. He did not dare breathe, for fear he would awake and find it all a dream. After some time in that position, he rang for his valet.
The next evening, he paced the drawing room impatiently as he awaited his aunt’s carriage. His hat and gloves were already on, and the anticipation of seeing Elizabeth filled him with dread and delight.
“They are here, sir.” His butler spoke softly, yet still Darcy jumped as he startled out of his thoughts.
“Very good. Thank you.” He strode out, nodding to the servant as he went. His stomach was a knot of nerves, and he mentally chastised himself for his foolishness.
“Good evening, nephew.” Lady Matlock’s expression was obscured in the dim light of the carriage as Darcy climbed aboard and took a seat next to Richard.
“Aunt,” he greeted her. “Thank you for allowing me to ride with you.”
“Relax, cousin.” Richard elbowed him in the ribs. “It will be a pleasant evening. Much more exciting than staring at the four walls of your chambers.”
“What do you mean by that?” Lord Matlock blustered. “Have you been ill, Darcy?”
“Not at all, Uncle. Richard is mocking me, as he always does.” Darcy nudged his cousin in return. The repartee eased some of his tension and allowed him to relax.
“Lord and Lady Elmwood are to attend,” Lady Matlock said, changing the subject. “Viscount Mavery and both of their nieces will be with them. I understand the older girl left town for a few weeks.”
Darcy ignored his aunt, opting to meditate on a pair of fine eyes. Surely, she will not attempt to force me into dancing with some insipid miss. And why does the name Mavery sound so familiar? He thought he knew all the earls and countesses who frequented town. Ah, yes, the reclusive earl and his family, who rarely came to London. I had no notion my aunt and uncle were acquainted with them.
Mrs. Norton’s home stood at the end of Wimpole Street. The gray stone edifice looked imposing in the lantern light. Darcy tapped his foot impatiently as they awaited their turn in the carriage queue. When at last it came their turn to disembark, he did so hurriedly, turning to assist his aunt down. As a group, they went inside and greeted their host and hostess. Finally, they entered the ballroom.
“Do you see her?” he muttered to Richard.
“Yes.” His cousin pointed across the room.
There she stood. He recognized her sister, Miss Mary, from his stay in Hertfordshire, but his gaze returned to Elizabeth almost immediately. Never had she been in better looks. The dark blue gown she wore fit her splendidly, showcasing her best physical attributes. She had sapphire pins in her hair and a lovely sapphire and pearl necklace around her neck. Something had made her laugh, and he could see her eyes sparkling merrily even from a distance.
Richard started forward, and Darcy followed, suddenly nervous to see her again. He did not recognize the lady who stood next to the sisters, but the gentleman that came into view as they neared he knew instantly.
It was the man from the park, the one who spoke of a betrothal. Darcy's heart seized and his courage faltered. But it was too late to turn back. She had seen him. Their gazes met, and she regarded him solemnly. Then, her lips quirked up in a small smile, and his anxiety eased.
“Good evening, Lady Elmwood,” Richard said. “How are you and your lovely nieces tonight? And Viscount Mavery. Well met.”
Lady Elmwood? Viscount? Darcy’s world tilted, and he blinked owlishly.
“Greetings, Colonel. Elizabeth tells me you were in Kent whilst she was lately there. Tell me, how did you find the country?” Lady Elmwood smiled.
“The visit proved far more enjoyable with your niece’s company. Darcy was there, too. Will you allow me to introduce my cousin?” Richard stepped aside.
Darcy tore his gaze from Elizabeth’s to greet the countess. “My lady,” he said after Richard performed the introductions. “I do not believe we have met.”
“A natural oversight. My husband and I are not in the habit of attending many society events. This year is different, since we are presenting our nieces.”
Viscount Mavery stepped forward. “Elizabeth, I believe our dance is starting.”
Darcy’s heart squeezed. “Perhaps Miss Bennet and Miss Mary would each grant me a set?” he choked out.
The ladies agreed. Elizabeth had the supper set free, and Darcy gratefully accepted it when offered. Miss Mary’s sets were taken, all but the third.
When the ladies had been escorted off, Lady Elmwood turned to Mr. Darcy. “I am sorry we have not met before now,” she said kindly. “Lady Matlock has told me so much about you.”
“Yes, well, my aunt likes to play matchmaker, and I feared her intentions when she invited me to tea.” His candor surprised even him and caused Lady Elmwood to laugh.
“She assumed as such. Better that we meet at this late date than never.”
“Forgive me, your ladyship, but how are you Miss Bennet’s aunt? I confess, I had no idea that…” he trailed off.
“That the penniless daughters of a country gentleman had any connections of note?” Her sardonic tone reminded him of Elizabeth, and he felt the shame of his actions all over again.
“Yes,” he confessed. “I am ashamed to admit it, but that is where my thoughts are.”
“Elizabeth’s business is her own, and she will share her circumstances with you when she is ready. However, Elizabeth granted me leave to tell you that her mother was my husband’s sister. She died when Mary and Elizabeth were babes in arms. I believe she mentioned something about that when you were all in Kent.”
Darcy nodded. He watched Viscount Mavery and his beloved lady dancing. She seemed so happy, so pleased with his company. He is her cousin. Of course, they love each other. But why would Richard say I have a chance? If they are to be betrothed, then there is no hope. Still, he resolved he would make the attempt. He loved her, and it would kill him to see her marry another.
Though it was too late to join the first set, Darcy found a partner for the second. It would do no good for him to stalk the edges of the ballroom, torturing himself as Elizabeth partnered gentleman after gentleman. No, he had much better occupy his time dancing with ladies in want of a partner.
He danced the second set with Lady Mildred Tipton. A confirmed spinster, the lady sat alone. Her father, the new Earl of Tipton, had long since despaired of marrying her off. Lady Mildred was too young to be with the matrons and too old to be with the misses newly out. Darcy found her to be a competent companion with no expectations, and they shared a pleasant half an hour before he returned her to her mother.
Richard would like her, he thought. She has a great interest in horseflesh and a keen insight into military matters. He told his cousin as much and prevailed upon him to dance the third with her.
Darcy returned to Lady Elmwood to claim Miss Mary’s hand for the third set. She hardly spoke as he led her away, and he feared that they would spend the entire set in silence.
“You look lovely tonight, Miss Mary,” he said politely. She did, truly. Her gown of blush silk made her pale complexion look luminescent.
“Not merely tolerable, sir?” She said it in barely a whisper, but he heard. He furrowed his brow in confusion.
“What do you mean?” he asked. Have I said something to wound her? He did not recall, but his behavior had been so dreadful, he feared it was likely.
“I wondered if you remembered,” she replied, still speaking softly. “My sister and I were both recipients of your notice at the Meryton Assembly.”
“Forgive me, but I do not recall…” he trailed off, the hints of a memory tickling at his thoughts. They are tolerable, I suppose… He groaned.
“You remember.” She looked proud of him. “Elizabeth told me everything that happened in Kent. I believe she likes you, and I mean to help you along if you are worthy of her. But to be so, you must recall everything. She took offense for herself, of course, but the insult to me is why she truly felt angry. You see, my stepmother has long criticized my appearance, which made your words particularly painful. Worse still, others we cared about used them against us. My sister has likely long since forgiven the insult to herself. Whether she has on my behalf is less certain.”
“I am very sorry,” he said. “I had quite forgotten my intemperate words. They were—and still are—a complete falsehood. I beg your forgiveness.” He spoke quickly, for the dance took her away from him. When they joined hands again, she smiled. Her eyes, so like Elizabeth’s, were open and genuine.
“You have it, sir,” she said.
They continued the dance in silence for a time. His gaze strayed down the line to Elizabeth. She and the viscount looked well together. His golden head contrasted with her dark one handsomely.
The dance ended, and he offered Miss Mary his arm.
“Thank you for the dance, sir.” She curtsied and moved to stand by her aunt. The next was the supper set, and so he waited there for Elizabeth.
“It seems we are exchanging partners.” Viscount Mavery eyed him with a speculative expression. “Mary, shall we?”
“Let the girl have a rest.” Lady Elmwood swatted her son with her fan. “You shall have your chance.”
“But I waited all evening already.” Viscount Mavery winked, causing the ladies to laugh.
“Peace, cousin,” Elizabeth chimed in. “There is still time before the set forms. Mr. Darcy is waiting patiently. Perhaps you ought to emulate him.”
“Perhaps Mr. Darcy is not as eager to dance as I.” Mavery’s expression sobered. Darcy felt exposed as the man observed him. How much has Elizabeth told him? he wondered. Does he know I compete for her affection?
The signal to move to the dance floor sounded, and the couples paired off. He and Elizabeth walked in silence.
They took their spot somewhere in the middle of the line. The dance was slow, which meant they could speak easily. Yet, they stood silently. He did not know what to say to her. Could he beg for forgiveness in the middle of a ballroom?
“We must speak, Mr. Darcy. It is odd to spend an entire thirty minutes in company and say nothing.”
He smiled. “That is very like what you said at the Netherfield Ball,” he replied. “Would you like me to remark on the size of the room or the number of couples?”
“No, I think I should prefer other topics of conversation. How did you find my aunt?” Elizabeth eyed him speculatively.
“Lady Elmwood seems genteel and kind. You take after her, I think.” He hoped the compliment would please her. Elizabeth despised empty flattery, so he hoped she could hear the sincerity in his voice.
“My aunt is everything that is good. I attribute most of my accomplishments to her excellent care.”
“Do you see her often?” he asked curiously.
“Mary and I have spent summers in their home for as long as I can remember. I am uncertain when or if we will return to Longbourn. My aunt and uncle mean to see us married.” She blushed and turned away, biting her lip. The dance separated them, allowing him to gather his thoughts.
“Will you be in town much longer?” he asked when the dance brought them back together.
“We will be here at least until the end of June. Lady Catherine wants me to come to Anne’s wedding. After that, I do not know my aunt and uncle’s plans.”
“My aunt has taken an eager interest in you,” he remarked. It was curious. Lady Catherine liked to be involved in people’s lives, but never had she shown such a keen interest in a lady unknown to her.
Elizabeth flushed and looked away. “She is my godmother,” she murmured.
He thought at first that he had misheard her. “In truth?” he asked incredulously.
“I only learned of it myself whilst I was in Kent,” she said defensively. “I am not prevailing upon the connection.”
“Forgive my surprise. I am not disapproving—merely shocked. How else have our lives been intertwined without us knowing?”
She chuckled, the look of relief on her face standing in stark contrast to the defensiveness of moments ago. “Knowing my godmother is a gift. I feel as if a piece of me that has been missing has been restored. She promised to share my mother’s letters when we met next. They could not be located whilst I was there.”
The conversation eased after that, and they spent the rest of the set in pleasant discourse. When the dance ended, he escorted her to supper. They continued speaking then, and with each passing moment, he grew more and more in love with her.
I must show her, he thought. My realizations were quick to come, but I must practice, else I will revert to my taciturn, haughty self.
After the meal, her next partner found her, and he sought another lady to stand up with. Miss Mary’s reminder of his insults was heavy on his mind, and he looked for ladies who were often ignored for prettier, younger ladies.
All in all, the evening went very well. He enjoyed dancing more than he imagined he would. When it was time to depart, he farewelled Elizabeth and inquired if she meant to walk the next morning.
“I believe Hyde Park is particularly lovely at ten o’clock,” she replied, smiling encouragingly.
In the carriage, Richard extolled the virtues of Miss Mildred Tipton. “She is an intelligent woman,” he said. “I never would have imagined. Her brother is an idiot, and her father is scarcely more intelligent. Yet she can speak about horses and her estate like a man.”
Lord and Lady Matlock exchanged glances and Darcy smothered a laugh. Miss Tipton also came with a dowry of forty-five thousand pounds. Her father had invested in a risky business venture some years ago that had paid off handsomely. The already wealthy man became obscenely so. He settled a dowry of twenty thousand pounds on his daughter. Having sat in the four percents for some time, it had grown in the nearly twenty years since her father had settled it on her.
The Matlock carriage deposited Darcy at his door, and he went to bed happy. He would meet Elizabeth tomorrow. Hopefully, he would be able to further his cause then.