Chapter 40
Caroline’s Bedchamber
Hurst House
The Next Morning
Thin slivers of sunlight peeked through the curtains drawn across the windows.
Caroline gave the golden specks a single baleful look and huddled further into her nest of warm, heaped blankets, fully intending to remain in her bed for the rest of the day.
Her nerves were overset by her agitation and the horror of the previous evening.
She had never been so shocked as when Charles had announced, without fanfare or sympathy, that Mr. Darcy was pursuing pert Eliza Bennet!
Caroline had stared at him in stunned disbelief, then automatically looked to Jane.
Jane's pretty face had plainly shown her own discomfort, and Caroline's memory after that blurred.
She thought she had shrieked or possibly fainted.
She vaguely remembered Louisa supporting her to her bedroom, and her lady's maid helping her into her nightgown.
Even now, her mind boggled at the thought that Fitzwilliam Darcy was courting Miss Elizabeth.
He was everything desirable in a man; tall, handsome, wealthy, of good family, with noble connections, and in possession of a magnificent estate.
He was wasting himself on a woman of no consequence!
What could there be about Miss Eliza to draw his eye?
She was unfinished, unrefined, odd in her ways and her dress, interested in the most unladylike subjects such as the breeding of sheep and the running of an estate, which were rightfully the purview of gentlemen.
Caroline severely doubted that Miss Eliza even knew how to paint watercolor flowers!
Nor were her manners particularly pleasing.
She was impertinent, and arch, and full of what she no doubt considered to be wit, and she was quick to disagree with gentlemen.
Admittedly, she was on excellent terms with the Earl and Countess of Keaton, but that should not, and could not, be enough of a draw for a Darcy!
It was true that Charles was marrying Miss Eliza’s older sister, but Jane was beautiful, charming, always kindly, and a sparkling conversationalist, even without the advantages that finishing school would have given her.
Miss Eliza had no charms and no advantages that should induce a man such as Darcy to become ensnared in her allurements.
She was pretty enough, but far from a great beauty and not in the latest mode, and she was certainly not as beautiful as Caroline herself!
It was preposterous and absurd! It was not fair!
Why Miss Elizabeth when Caroline had been right there, when she had known Mr. Darcy for longer and been his dear friend's sister? Why?
The door opened, and Caroline glowered hideously. It was doubtless a servant, here to tidy up or add wood to the fire, but she was in no mood to be disturbed.
“Go away!” she shouted.
“I will not go away,” Louisa said in her sternest tone, marching over to the windows and pulling the curtains wide, which in turn let in the pale sunshine of December. “Stop acting like a child!”
Caroline was not in the habit of being scolded by either of her siblings, and she sat up indignantly, even as one hand sought and found a pillow to jam behind her back.
“A child?” she snarled. “A child?! For years, I have longed to marry Mr. Darcy. He is rich, handsome, well-connected, and Charles’s closest friend, and Pemberley is magnificent, and…”
“I know,” Louisa interrupted, and though her tone remained stern, there was compassion in her eyes. “I know. But my dear sister, you must know that to kick up a fuss will do none of us any good. Mr. Darcy is not the sort of man to be swayed from his own plans.”
Caroline sniffed and was surprised when tears rolled down her cheeks. She very rarely cried, but to accept the death of a long-held dream was too much for her.
Louisa handed a handkerchief over, and Caroline wiped her eyes and said in a wobbly voice, “Oh, Louisa.”
“I know,” Mrs. Hurst said, and now both tone and expression were kind. “But come, my dear sister, you need not give up all hope. After all, Mr. Darcy has not yet asked for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage. He may well decide they do not suit.”
A trickle of warmth spread through Caroline’s chest, and she sat up straighter, deep in thought.
After a minute of cogitation, she nodded briskly and said, “You are right, of course. I have been giving way foolishly to dejection. I daresay that Elizabeth will frighten Mr. Darcy away very soon. She is not even particularly pretty, and her manners are a mixture of pride and impertinence. I daresay even a young man like Mr. Darcy is capable of being drawn in for a time, but he will come to his senses soon!”
***
Study
Matlock House
Catherine de Bourgh straightened her back and pushed open the door to the study. She had been informed, upon waking far later than usual, that her brother wished to see her as soon as possible. She did not much care for the imperative summons, but on the other hand, she did need Matlock’s help.
“Come in, Sister, and sit down,” Lord Matlock said, rising from his chair behind the desk and gesturing toward two wingbacked chairs drawn near the crackling fire.
She obeyed, though she eyed the chairs with some disdain. They were out of fashion by at least five years, and she wondered that Lady Matlock had not replaced them.
“Catherine,” Lord Matlock said, taking a seat across from her, “I spoke to Richard last night after you retired to bed, and he informs me that Miss Elizabeth Bennet is an heiress of a substantial estate. Were you aware of that?”
The mistress of Rosings found her gaze shifting to the dancing flames of the fire.
“Darcy mentioned something of the sort,” she said in a studiously casual tone, “but I did not believe the report, of course.”
Matlock groaned, and she turned a surprised look on him, which shifted into alarm. Her brother was generally quite placid, but now there was a mixture of anger and worry on his countenance.
“I do not see why you would blame me!” she sniffed. “I had no idea that the girl actually had…”
“The estate is not the problem,” the earl interrupted without compunction.
“The problem is that you called Elizabeth Bennet a strumpet and a harlot, and she is a dear friend to the Earl and Countess of Keaton, and the duke himself thinks of her fondly. Keaton is heavily involved in politics, and so am I, and we will be forced to work with one another on some issues of foreign policy, and you, Catherine, have complicated the situation by gravely insulting Keaton’s guest and close acquaintance! ”
Lady Catherine stared at the earl in wonder.
She had never cared much about politics at the national level, as she was well pleased to act as magistrate and overseer of Rosings and the environs.
It had not occurred to her that Darcy’s strumpet …
that the woman he was pursuing would have such highborn friends.
She said as much, indignantly, and Matlock groaned again and said, “I know you did not, Sister, but you could have at least looked into the matter before showing up uninvited at Gracechurch Street and distributing your unfiltered wrath. By the by, Richard asked me an excellent question, and I did not know the answer. How did you find out where Darcy had gone to dine two nights ago?”
She lifted her chin and said, “I convinced one of the footmen, who had overheard the direction, to tell me.”
Matlock shook his head in disapproval. “You mean you bullied him. That was not well done at all to interfere with Darcy’s servants.”
She leaped to her feet, quite unable to sit still any longer. “I had to, Brother. I had to! Darcy and Anne have been intended for one another since their cradles…”
“No marriage documents were drawn up or signed,” Matlock interposed, appearing completely unmoved by her words.
He was on his feet now as well, and he walked over to put both hands on his sister’s shoulders.
He stared into her eyes and said, “I want you to return to Rosings this very day, Catherine. I hope that neither the duke nor the Earl of Keaton will spread this about Town, but you did make a fool of yourself, and I will not permit you to cause additional problems here. Do you understand?”
She was inclined to be extremely indignant, but on those rare occasions when her brother put his foot down, he meant it. Moreover, she had, she realized, indeed made a fool of herself.
Far better to return home to Rosings, where she was the undisputed mistress of her domain, and where no one in her sphere would unexpectedly turn out to be the protégée of a duke.
***
Hyde Park
Noon
It was a cold day, and Elizabeth Bennet pulled her rug a trifle higher on herself and shifted closer to her companion. It was not a common time, from a seasonal perspective, to be driving around the park, and thus Elizabeth and Darcy shared the road with only a few other carriages.
Trees lined the road. Gray, bare limbs shivered and rattled in a cold wind, their leaves long since having fallen away to rot into mulch underfoot.
Brown-barked pines, their heavy green needles spicing the air and providing some needed color, stood tall and proud among their leafless deciduous cousins, whose fallen brown leaves muffled the clopping of horses' hooves and the creak of carriage wheels.
London had not yet seen its first substantial snowfall this year, so no white carpet covered the gray and brown and faded dusty green of the earth.
It was no less beautiful, Elizabeth thought. In its own way, it was restful.
“I hope you are not too cold?” Darcy asked from her left.
She turned and took a moment to admire him. He sat very straight in the seat, his strong, gloved hands holding the reins, with the two black geldings trotting along in front of them, full of vim and vigor and beauty. It was a most impressive sight.
“I am very comfortable,” she said with a smile, just as the phaeton turned a corner and Darcy pulled on the reins and the horses slowed to a walk.
They were now alongside the Serpentine, and Elizabeth looked out over the river.
Later in the year, the frozen surface might well be thick with skaters, but in the meantime, the indolent flow of the water was enough to prevent it freezing over just yet.
Several swans, unperturbed by the frigid temperatures of the water, glided gracefully across its surface, their white reflections wavering with ripples.
They were the gilding on a lily, the scene tranquil and lovely, with the bending watercourse reflecting a pale blue sky.
“It is so beautiful,” she remarked.
“It is,” Darcy agreed.
For two minutes, they rode in companionable silence, and then Elizabeth shook herself a trifle, turned and said, “I wish to thank you most profoundly for your defense of me with regards to Lady Catherine. You are, of course, your own man, but she is also your relation. It must have been somewhat difficult.”
He glanced at her and then focused his attention on the horses in front of him.
“I will always do whatever is in my power to protect you, Elizabeth,” he said with utmost gravity and sincerity.
She shivered a little at the intensity of his voice, not to mention his use of her Christian name.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “You are a very good man, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
He looked at her again, and now he was smiling, which enhanced his already remarkable good looks, and said simply, “I love you.”
For a moment, her throat was too clogged for speech, but she cleared it with a slight cough, and reached out her hand to touch his arm, which was protected from the cold by gray wool.
“I love you too,” she said shyly.
The reins suddenly tightened, and the horses came to a halt, and he turned toward her, his eyes blazing with passion. “Did you say that…?”
“I did,” she replied, and her eyes filled with tears even as she lifted her chin. “I love you, Fitzwilliam, with all of my heart. You are a wonderful man; kind, hard-working, intelligent, and deeply caring. I love you.”
“Elizabeth Bennet, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“I will.”
They stared at one another with awed joy for a minute, hearts beating rapidly, twin smiles on their faces, and they might have remained in such a position of wonder for an hour longer if one of the horses had not nickered and shifted impatiently.
This broke their tableau, and Elizabeth laughed and said, “I think he is unaware of how romantic this is.”
“Indeed he is not,” Darcy said joyfully, “and I would not want the horses to get cold, so we had best drive on without further delay. But before we do, Elizabeth, thank you! I am the happiest man in all of England!”
***
Gardiners’ House
Gracechurch Street
Evening
“Oh Lizzy!” Lady Bennet cried out. “Oh, my dear Lizzy! How very happy I am! Mrs. Darcy! How well it sounds! I am so glad we already looked at fabrics for a wedding dress for you. We will need to visit Madame Beaumont tomorrow for a fitting! Oh! I will not sleep this night and perhaps never again!”