Chapter 9
Mr. Darcy arrivedat Pemberley just as the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the estate. As he stepped into the dining room, the servants quickly set an extra place for him at the table. Georgiana rose from her seat, a smile brightening her face as she embraced her brother.
“I’m so glad you’re back, Fitzwilliam. I’ll miss having Miss Elizabeth for company, but at least I was able to play for her and Mrs. Gardiner for a few minutes before they left.”
Mr. Darcy returned the hug, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Elizabeth. He had hoped to return before her departure, to ensure she had fully recovered from the fever. The thought of her traveling in a weakened state filled him with unease.
As they took their seats, the servants presented the first course—a selection of roasted meats and vegetables. Mr. Darcy had requested they skip the mackerel, his appetite diminished by the weight of his thoughts.
Georgiana’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Is all well, brother? You seem distracted.”
Mr. Darcy forced a smile. “My business in London is nearly concluded, but I must return briefly before traveling to Hertfordshire.” He lowered his voice, ensuring no servants were within earshot. “I plan to propose to Miss Elizabeth, but you mustn’t breathe a word until it is done.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened, her face alight with joy. “Oh, Fitzwilliam! That is wonderful news!”
He nodded, his heart swelling at the thought of Elizabeth as his wife. If she accepted, he reminded himself. Elizabeth had no qualms about refusing any man. She had refused him once already.
First, he had to speak with Mr. Gardiner about the arrangements he had made with Wickham. The knowledge that he would be paying for the scoundrel’s wedding left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it was a small price to pay for Elizabeth’s happiness and her family’s reputation.
The gentlemanfrom Pemberley stood in St. Clement’s Church, his eyes fixed on the couple before him. Lydia Bennet, soon to be Lydia Wickham, stood beside her betrothed, George Wickham. The irony of the situation was not lost on Mr. Darcy. He, Mr. Harper, and a solicitor had worked tirelessly to arrange this marriage, a union he knew neither party truly desired.
Lydia’s face was a picture of petulance. She had complained bitterly about her parents’ absence, seemingly oblivious to the scandal she had brought upon her family.
Beside her, Wickham shifted uncomfortably. His expression was a mix of bemusement and anxiety. Mr. Darcy knew that Wickham had only agreed to the marriage because of the financial incentives he had offered. The elimination of his debts and the promise of a modest annual sum had been too tempting to refuse.
As the ceremony began, his thoughts turned to Elizabeth. He imagined her at Longbourn, stricken and gloomy from worrying about her family’s lost reputation. His heart ached to be with her, to offer her comfort and reassurance.
But he knew that his presence here was necessary. This marriage was a small price to pay for the chance to win Elizabeth’s love. He had failed in the past to reveal Wickham’s true character, and now he was determined to make amends.
The Gardiners stood beside him, their faces solemn. They had been instrumental in helping him track down the wayward couple, and he was grateful for their assistance.
As the vows were exchanged, relief washed over Mr. Darcy. The marriage was done, and Lydia’s reputation, and by extension, the Bennet family’s, was saved. He could only hope that Elizabeth would one day understand the lengths he had gone to in order to protect her and her loved ones.