Chapter 16 #2
Mr Ellis tugged succinctly at his tailcoat. “Your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, announced the news some weeks ago while I attended her with my family in Hunsford. She was most enthusiastic about your proposal.”
Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but before he could so much as utter a monosyllable Elizabeth laid her hand upon his arm and said to her friend, “Mr Ellis, you are mistaken if you believe that Mr Darcy would ever declare himself to me after reaching an understanding with another lady—any other lady. He is the most honourable man I know. It is not in his nature to employ disguise of any sort. It is true Mr Darcy is engaged, but not to Miss de Bourgh. He has just become engaged to me.”
“My aunt has long suffered under a misapprehension of her own design. Much as I respect my cousin, she and I would never suit.” Darcy turned to Elizabeth and his voice softened considerably.
“You must know the only proposal I have ever uttered is to you.” His sincerity and adoration were evident, not only in his expression as he looked upon her, but in the affectionate way he reached for her hand.
Elizabeth surrendered it willingly with a smile, warm and loving.
Darcy returned it with equal emotion.
Mr Ellis stared at them. “Mr Darcy is the gentleman you have regretted these many months. Mr Darcy is the man for whom you have pined.” He exhaled heavily and proceeded to rub his forehead.
“Of course,” Elizabeth said feelingly. “Of course, it is Mr Darcy.”
Mr Ellis slowly shook his head. “I am happy for you, Lizzy, sincerely happy. But while I would like nothing better than to wish you both joy you are much mistaken if you believe Lady Catherine will stand for Mr Darcy marrying you. I may not know her intimately, but I have seen enough to know she is used to having her way in all matters. She was emphatic in her assertion Miss de Bourgh was to have him and expounded upon every detail surrounding the business. Mr Collins conceded every particular.”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Mr Collins,” he muttered sardonically.
“Of course, such a report must be true if Mr Collins claims it is so.” He fixed Mr Ellis with a look that fully communicated his displeasure with the business.
“Mr Collins does not speak for me, Mr Ellis, nor does my aunt, nor any person so wholly connected to me. I do not take kindly to interference from any quarter, especially as pertains to my domestic felicity. I will speak to my aunt but make no mistake—I will marry Miss Elizabeth. She will be my wife.”
“I am glad to hear it. Though Miss Elizabeth is undoubtedly capable of speaking on her own behalf, I am gratified to know she has found a champion in you. Allow me to be the first to offer my heartfelt congratulations.” He extended his hand, and after a slight hesitation Darcy shook it.
“I apologise for my assumptions, as well as my harsh words. Miss Elizabeth is my dearest friend. I meant no offence.”
Mr Ellis looked to Elizabeth and his gaze softened. “I take it back, Lizzy,” he said, and in his tone, she could hear his fondness for her. “Every word. I could not have parted with you to anyone less worthy. I will say nothing more of the matter, either to you, your Mr Darcy, or anyone else.”
Elizabeth withdrew her hand from Darcy’s and extended it to her friend, who clasped it tightly. “I do not wish to take any attention from Jane and Mr Bingley,” she told him. “They will marry tomorrow. There is time yet to make our announcement once they are settled.”
“But I shall speak to your father,” said Darcy. “I would not wish to keep our engagement from him. I would imagine you desire his blessing.”
Elizabeth inclined her head with a small, pleased smile. It was precisely what she wished.
Mr Ellis relinquished her hand and pulled his watch from his waistcoat pocket.
He studied it with a critical eye and replaced it with an exasperated exhalation.
“I was sent by your mother, a duty that could not be avoided. Perhaps we all ought to return together, so no one thinks that you and I have been alone all this time. They have surely gone into dinner by now.”
“Perhaps that would be best,” Darcy agreed as he extended his arm to Elizabeth. “Shall we return to the rest of the party, and see if there is supper enough for the three of us?”
Elizabeth linked her right arm with Darcy’s and her left with her friend’s, overjoyed to have Darcy’s love, Mr Ellis’s friendship, and the steadfast devotion of both.
How she got through dinner without alerting her mother to her engagement Elizabeth knew not.
She could barely contain her happiness and every minute feared she would give herself away, stealing Jane’s spotlight on her last evening as an unmarried lady.
She need not have worried. Once Mrs Bennet saw her second-eldest daughter escorted into the dining room by both Mr Ellis and Darcy, she appeared quite content to direct her attention to Jane and Bingley for the remainder of the evening.
To Elizabeth’s delight, Darcy stayed close to her, as did her friend, who seemed intent upon knowing Darcy better.
Though she suspected Darcy would have preferred to be alone with her in a quiet corner of the room once the gentlemen had re-joined the ladies for coffee, he was open and agreeable towards Mr Ellis, whose intelligent discourse showed him to be a well-informed, well-educated man of the world.
The Gardiners joined them, and Elizabeth listened to her friend’s account of America and its industry with great interest, contributing her own observations and remarks freely, as did her aunt.
Elizabeth found their opinions and insights were not only welcomed by Darcy and Mr Ellis, but frequently solicited.
It pleased her immensely to be included in such a discussion with the gentlemen, and to be treated as their equals regarding topics that were widely considered beyond women’s capabilities and therefore always relegated to men.
The church service the following day was everything Darcy had anticipated—respectable and intimate, with none but the two families and Darcy in attendance.
Though Jane Bennet made a lovely bride, Darcy had eyes for none but Elizabeth.
So captivated was he by her beauty in the morning light as it streamed through the windows, he had nearly missed hearing the parson’s request that he present the ring.
The breakfast was held at Longbourn, a short walk from the church made all the shorter due to the chill in the air and frost upon the ground.
Though they had not been admitted to the church, many of the Bennets’ neighbours and close friends attended the breakfast. Once the wedding cake had been distributed, the ladies abandoned the dining table in favour of the comfort of Mrs Bennet’s drawing room.
The gentlemen remained and, after the dishes were cleared away, cigars and a bottle of French brandy—nearly impossible to obtain in England since the start of the war—were offered to the gentlemen by Mr Bennet to further celebrate the occasion.
Such generosity was met with much enthusiasm and approving smiles.
Now that the ladies were no longer present, the men were free to indulge in far more interesting conversations than society deemed suitable for those in possession of more delicate sensibilities, and soon the room was filled with the sound of satisfied, well-entertained gentlemen enjoying themselves as they could not otherwise in the company of the ladies.
Darcy studied the amber liquid in his glass before raising it to his lips.
The fine brandy slid down his throat with ease.
“You are very introspective this morning, Mr Darcy,” Mr Gardiner observed as he settled into a vacant chair beside Pemberley’s master. “I trust you are well?”
Darcy offered Elizabeth’s uncle a sincere smile, albeit a fleeting one. “I am very well, only distracted. It is good to see you.”
“And you as well, sir.” Mr Gardiner appeared to study him for a moment, taking a slow sip from his glass. “My niece,” he said matter-of-factly, “looks extremely lovely this morning, would you not agree?”
Darcy’s lips twitched with amusement as he averted his gaze.
He had always suspected Mr Gardiner could see right through him, and here was his proof.
“I daresay all of your nieces look lovely this morning,” he responded lightly, tracing his finger along the edge of his glass.
“Did you, perhaps, have a particular one in mind?”
The elder gentleman chuckled. “I imagine she is the one who has been on yours since we had the pleasure of meeting at Pemberley this summer.”
“You have gotten to know me quite well since then,” said Darcy with a small, secretive smile, “but not well enough, it seems. She has occupied nearly every thought I have had far longer than a few mere months.”
“I would wager you have occupied hers as well. She and my wife are very close. Far closer, I would say, than she has ever been to her mother.” Mr Gardiner laid his hand on Darcy’s arm.
“I would not,” he said quietly, “put stock in anything my sister utters about my niece and a certain gentleman from Hertfordshire. She has many opinions and ideas that her daughters do not share, especially the two eldest. If anything comes of it, I will stand with you both, as will my wife. It is the least we can do after all you have done for us.”
Darcy felt a sudden flush of heat spread from the back of his neck to the tips of his ears. “I am grateful to have your support, but you and your family owe me nothing. I did only what I ought to have done—what I should have done far sooner.”
He glanced down the length of the table at Wickham, who was laughing almost raucously with a young man he understood to be none other than Mr Crowell, and frowned.
Mr Ellis and Robert Goulding, who were conversing with several other gentlemen, turned towards the pair.
Darcy was not surprised to see both wore nearly identical expressions of disapproval.
Darcy shook his head, irritated with himself as much as he was with Wickham.
He had been so caught up in making love to Elizabeth the night before and so overwhelmed by the reality of their engagement this morning, that he had forgotten to write to his cousin to apprise him of Wickham being in Hertfordshire.
Darcy’s frown deepened as he watched the reprobate reach for the decanter and refill his empty glass somewhat sloppily.
He appeared to be enjoying his brandy more than was considered prudent.
“I cannot account for him being here,” Mr Gardiner murmured, inclining his head in Wickham’s direction, “but I do know that Lizzy is very upset by it. She is convinced he is here under some false pretence or other, and I confess myself inclined to agree with her.” He took a sip from his glass.
“Do you believe he intends to stay beyond the wedding?”
Darcy swirled the contents of his own glass and shrugged.
“I do not know, but I intend to send an express to my cousin in London as soon as may be. He is a colonel in His Majesty’s army and will know how to make the proper enquiries with Wickham’s commanding officer in the north.
As soon as he is in possession of the information we seek, Colonel Fitzwilliam will advise me on what ought to be done. ”
Mr Gardiner nodded in understanding, then nudged Darcy’s shoulder and inclined his head towards Mr Bennet. “I can think of one thing you can do in the meantime.”
Darcy looked towards Elizabeth’s father, only to find the man himself staring back at him from across the table with the same impertinent look in his eyes that Darcy had often seen in Elizabeth’s.
He drummed his fingertips against the side of his glass as he returned Mr Bennet’s enquiring gaze with what he hoped was his usual mask of composure.
Mr Bennet raised one brow at him, and Darcy repressed an urge to smile at the feeling of familiarity that one, simple gesture produced. At that moment, Mr Bennet reminded Darcy much of his second daughter.
“Is there something you wish to speak to me about, Mr Darcy?” Longbourn’s master calmly enquired.
Raising his glass to his lips, Darcy swallowed the rest of his brandy and placed the empty glass upon the table. “As a matter of fact, there is something I wish to discuss with you, Mr Bennet, if you would be so generous as to indulge me.”
Mr Bennet finished his brandy and leaned back in his chair, linked his fingers across his stomach, and waited for Darcy to enlighten him.
“Perhaps we might convene elsewhere,” Darcy suggested. “What I have to relate is regarding a personal matter.”
The elder man frowned but pushed his chair away from the table without comment. “Lead the way, then, sir,” he said as he stood, gesturing for Darcy to precede him.
As Darcy rose from his chair, he noticed Wickham’s eyes were turned upon him, his expression inscrutable and his complexion flushed from the effects of alcohol.
If his former friend was anything, he was astute.
Would he suspect that Darcy’s desire to speak with Mr Bennet privately was due to his sudden appearance in Hertfordshire, or had he discerned the truth?
Darcy straightened to his full height and regarded Wickham coldly, inclined his head to Mr Gardiner, and quit the room. First things first, he told himself. He would deal with George Wickham later.