14. For Now
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FOR NOW
The December morning was sharp, the cottage cold, and frost crept along the bottom panes of the draughty windows.
The space was far too small to afford even the illusion of privacy, particularly when Colonel Fitzwilliam had deliberately stationed himself at the sole table with a clear sightline to both the door and the window.
Darcy’s valet, Vernon, had just taken up another candlestick to polish when the colonel placed his whittling knife on the table, a signal for a conversation Darcy did not desire.
“You were closeted in Mr. Bennet’s study for hours last night,” Richard observed.
“And Miss Elizabeth retreated up the servants’ stairs, refusing to speak to anyone.
Not even when her mother chased her to the landing, demanding particulars.
When Mrs. Bennet dispatched Jane to ferret out the truth, both sisters locked themselves within the chamber, and neither sister showed her face for the remainder of the evening. ”
Darcy swallowed his bitter coffee and stared at the dregs. “The facts as you state them are tolerably accurate.”
“The facts, yes, but Cousin, what did you say to her? Did you upset her? For surely she should only be grateful that you have legally relinquished the Longbourn entail. It is too incredible.”
“It was the proper thing to do.” Darcy cracked his soft-boiled egg and watched the yolk run down the edge of the shell.
“Posh! You sound like a preacher’s illustration.
Proper thing to do, indeed. Oh, if all the heirs of England were to simply bar their entails and assign them to second sons—or in your case, to females.
Darcy, have you gone daft?” He cupped a hand to his ear theatrically.
“Why, I believe I can still hear Mrs. Bennet shouting her triumphs. ‘My Jane is an heiress. Oh, Mr. Bennet, pack our trunks; we shall all head to London for the Season, as Jane is an heiress.’”
Darcy had already endured the gauntlet of celebrating Bennets and the beaming Philipses the night before and had no wish to recall the grateful presses of their hands and the barely concealed inquisition of whether he had also proposed marriage to Miss Elizabeth.
That he had done the deed solely for her sake had been quietly comprehended only by Mr. Bennet, who had been stationed outside of the small parlor door.
Thankfully, the master of Longbourn was far too intelligent to introduce messy complications like non-proposals or unrequited confessions into the general family air.
Darcy had to hand it to the old fox. He would have no peace whatsoever if Mrs. Bennet discovered that one of her daughters could have gained Pemberley. Let them rejoice with Longbourn.
Richard’s fingers tapped impatiently on the table.
“Well, Cousin? I hope you are satisfied with yourself. I suppose you gained the young lady’s affections.
Lydia and Kitty were ready to call you brother, and even Mary seemed pleased with the arrangement, especially the dance and music masters.
I do wonder why Miss Elizabeth did not offer you a single word of farewell. Did she have no gratitude or sense?”
“The young lady is entirely honorable. I did not perform the deed to purchase her gratitude. I sought only to strip away every vestige of obligation that stood between us.”
“By surrendering your position entirely.” Richard’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “You are clearly not a military man. Unless… you mean to draw her into an ambush.”
“I am doing no such thing.”
“Certainly you do not negotiate contracts by surrendering without a plan. She must have given you something. Even her father wondered, but Mr. Philips said that if the young gentleman extracted nothing, he would congratulate his clever niece, who spared no quarter and gained an inheritance for her elder sister. How very noble of the two of you, as you could have assigned the entail to the second daughter.”
“I do not wish to discuss this further.” Darcy set aside his uneaten breakfast and reached for the invoices.
“So, you surrendered your inheritance and received nothing from the young lady—not even a smile or a—”
“Stop,” Darcy commanded. “She gave me nothing. Only a nod when I asked if she wished me to speak to her father and uncle.”
“Right, I suppose you do not need Longbourn. Pemberley is yours, free and clear. Ten thousand a year and a house that could swallow this entire estate without noticing the additional furniture. The entail was your legal claim on an inheritance you never needed, and you surrendered it for a woman who gave you a nod and went up the servants’ stairs. ”
“It was a meaningful nod, I hope.” Darcy had seen it in his mind over and over again.
Her lips had parted as though she might speak, and it had not been a curt nod, but almost a hesitant one, as if she…
but no, she had given him no indication other than her hot words.
She was not territory to be conquered. She had given him one word, as the only reason she would marry. Love.
“A nod that sounds a lot like love,” Richard said, his expression pensive. “And now that the entail includes female heirs, Miss Bennet is the heir. Any man who marries Jane Bennet takes on the Bennet surname.”
“That is not my concern.” Darcy flipped through the invoices. “There is a new millstone to price, and repairs for the axle that concern me.”
“Are you at all concerned if I were to test my own fortunes with Miss Jane Bennet now that she is an heiress? I am a second son with no inheritance, while you can add to your holdings with Rosings Park and Anne de Bourgh practically placed on your lap. You have only to go and claim her hand.”
“I have no intention of claiming Rosings. Cousin, you may go and claim whichever hand you choose.”
“Even Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Supposing if Jane marries Bingley and he refuses to become a Bennet, might the estate not go to Miss Elizabeth? I am not so high-minded as not to become a Bennet.”
Richard was needling him, and Darcy would not rise to his bait.
“Our cousin Anne deserves better than an arrangement.” Darcy pushed from his seat and looked out the window.
“Anne deserves a great many things she is unlikely to receive, given her mother’s opinions on the subject.
” Richard’s expression softened. “But we are not speaking of Anne, are we? We are speaking of a young woman with no dowry and extraordinary eyes who went up the servants’ stairs without looking back, and you are standing at a frosty window hoping she will come down the lane this morning to discuss millstones. ”
Darcy opened his mouth to deny this and found he could not, because it was precisely, humiliatingly true. “I do not require Miss Elizabeth’s accompanying me to inspect the mill.”
“Well, Darce.” Richard stood and clapped him on the back.
“I shall call on Longbourn and enjoy the music master’s visit.
Miss Mary was quite particular about a composer, one Ignaz Pleyel.
She is handcopying the ‘Sonatina in D major’ into her notebook.
I suspect she will require another blue journal soon, oh, and Miss Kitty invites me to teach her how to march with books balanced over her head, and—”
Hoofbeats sounded on the lane, that of a rider approaching at speed, drawing both men to look out the window.
“That is one of my mother’s men,” Richard said, already going to the door.
He opened the door as the courier dismounted, leading the horse as Darcy’s valet took the reins.
“Mr. Darcy.” The courier was breathing hard, his face reddened by cold and exertion. “Colonel Fitzwilliam. An express from Lady Matlock. She bid me find you with all haste.”
Darcy pressed a coin in the man’s hand and turned from the door. The letter bore the Matlock seal—his aunt’s heavy wax, pressed with the eagle crest Richard’s family had carried since the Conquest. Darcy broke it with his thumb and read, aware of Richard standing at his shoulder.
Lady Matlock’s hand was firm, her displeasure firmer.
Nephew, I write with considerable displeasure at you and Richard sojourning in the wilderness of a minor estate in Hertfordshire, the chief distinction of which appears to be its good fortune in possessing an entail to a Darcy.
Georgiana has been taken with a fever these three days.
She asks for you, Fitzwilliam, and though the physician assures me the worst has passed, I do not consider his assurance sufficient grounds for your continued absence.
She is still a child, and she wants her brother.
We expect you both for the twelve nights, as was arranged before your unaccountable detour.
I trust you will not require a second summons.
This backwater neither deserves your company nor, from what I am able to gather, has done anything to welcome it. I cannot think what detains you.
Come at once. Do not delay for courtesy or obligation. Your sister asks for you.
H. Fitzwilliam, Countess of Matlock
“Well,” Richard said, having read over Darcy’s shoulder. “My mother is not pleased, although I wonder if she would spare me as Miss Jane Bennet is now an heiress.”
“Georgiana is ill,” Darcy said. “We must go within the hour. Have the horses brought round, and Vernon can follow with the trunks.”
“Shall we not ride over to Longbourn and bid farewell to the Bennets?”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. He had been imagining life going on as before—Elizabeth and him visiting the tenants, inspecting the mill, planning the drainage improvements, but he was no longer the Longbourn heir. He had no business being here while Georgiana lay burning with fever.
“My sister needs me. I shall write Mr. Bennet a note while Vernon packs.” He spoke to his valet, who immediately began the diligent act of packing and clearing the tiny cottage.