“You are correct, you know, in that my aunt never has understood me. Of course, that is as much my fault as hers. I do not open myself easily to anyone, as you can attest. My aunt and I are not confidantes. My mother and her sister were not overly friendly or intimate. My mother was closest to the middle Fitzwilliam sister, my Aunt Muriel. She passed when I was very young and I barely remember her. Anyway, Catherine was the eldest, and despite her constant assertions, my mother never planned for Anne and me to marry. Oh, I think she probably thought it would be sweet when we were born so closely together, but it was not a serious arrangement. Aunt Catherine always pushed it though, and my mother remained silent, probably out of intimidation from her brazen older sister, but mostly because she knew I am far too stubborn to be forced into anything. The irony is that the compulsory association with each other did lead to a strong affection, but as cousins should.
“My Uncle Lewis passed four years ago, and per Aunt Catherine's request, I assumed the role of advisor to the estate. It was all a ploy, as she had run roughshod over my uncle for years and knew more about the estate's affairs than he did! Still, I found it easier to comply rather than argue. Besides, I like Kent and enjoyed visiting Anne. There was never any agreement with my uncle, or official duty. That is a boldfaced lie.”
Darcy paused, peering intently into Lizzy's eyes, piercing her very soul as only he could. “As to the rest, Elizabeth, I honestly do not know where to begin. A part of me wants to shake you until your teeth rattle for being so foolish as to entertain the tiniest notion that I would care one iota what anyone in society thinks. Yet, I recognize your innocence and cannot deny that I planted the seed of doubt by my own words at Kent. I will not lie to you and deny that there are clearly those who will temporarily shun me for my choice of wife. That is the reality of this world I live in. In this my aunt is partly truthful. The invitations have been markedly diminished. What she does not appreciate is that I am utterly indifferent and frankly relieved. In the past, I denied the vast majority of solicitations received because I was not interested. They consisted primarily of families with eligible daughters or business propositions designed to profit by my wealth. I have told you again and again, Elizabeth, how I hated the falseness of the ton. If this is the world and opinion that truly mattered to me, then I would have married a Caroline Bingley years ago!”
He painfully grasped her chin with his thumb and index finger, raptor gaze of darkened blue eyes boring into her. “Elizabeth, we have discussed this ad nauseam during our engagement and I cannot revisit the period during which I lost you, and the torment that caused to my soul. The agony is too extreme. I would lay down my very life for you and our child. That is not merely a poetic phrase; it is the truth. My wealth, Pemberley, my horses, social standings, or family ties—none of it has any meaning without you. If you do not yet comprehend this and my love for you above all else in this world, then there is nothing more I can say or do to convince you.”
Elizabeth was crying silently, wanting to hide her face in shame, but he would not slacken his grip. He continued to study her as if reading into her mind through her eyes. She clutched him tightly about the waist, returning his direct stare, pouring all her love and remorse into her teary eyes. At last he nodded, seemingly satisfied with what he gleaned. He smiled slightly and leaned in for a tender kiss. Lizzy released a shuddering sigh of liberation as he kissed her. It was a long kiss, devoid of passion, but replete with love and assurance and peace.
Chapter Thirteen
Family Matters
“Mr. Darcy!”
Darcy turned from the open doorway to view the eager young face of Mr. Joshua Daniels bearing down on him. He was in the process of exiting the building which housed his solicitor's offices, having spent the past hour signing the legal documents pertaining to the arrangement with Duke Grafton, as well as a smattering of other papers. Now, his solicitor's son was approaching, and Darcy did not doubt the purpose although he maintained a neutral expression.
“Mr. Daniels,” he replied with a bow.
“Mr. Darcy, I was praying I may speak with you for a moment? Regarding a personal matter, if you have the time?”
“Of course.” They entered a small conference room, Mr. Daniels blushing and nervous but determined.
“Sir, I was blessed with the great fortune to deliver the Royston contracts to your house several days ago whereupon I met Mrs. Darcy and four other ladies in her company. Lovely women all; however, I would be perjuring myself if I denied that one of the young ladies in particular captured my attention most profoundly. Your esteemed wife's sister, Miss Mary Bennet, is of whom I speak. We spoke briefly and I sensed a mutual interest. Nonetheless, I deemed it proper to approach you as her guardian ere I pursued the matter.”
The entire speech was delivered in a rush, and in practically one breath. Yet Darcy was impressed, as Mr. Daniels boldly met Darcy's eyes throughout, a feat many fail at, and his manners spoke for themselves. Darcy nodded seriously. “Thank you, Mr. Daniels, for your consideration and honesty. Ultimately the decision is Miss Bennet's, and I cannot speak for her feelings on the subject. However, you have my permission to call if she wishes it.” Darcy struggled not to laugh at the poor man's visible relief, continuing instead with, “I should enlighten you, though, that Miss Bennet will be in Town only for another three weeks or so, then she is returning to Hertfordshire. At that time, her care will be resumed by her father.”
Mr. Daniels lifted his chin bravely, undoubtedly imagining the horrors of dealing with a ferocious father. “Thank you, sir.”
Darcy left the offices in high spirits. His affection toward both his new sisters had increased over the past weeks. Mary, although still rather odd to him, had relaxed in his presence and displayed a rare intelligence. She was stoic and did not seem to possess the slightest humor, but she was steady, confident, pretty, loyal, and kind. Georgiana adored her, and this alone recommended her to Darcy. It was far too early to predict where the romance may lead, but Darcy felt it would be a good match.
His spirits waned as he drew nearer to the setting of his next appointment: the townhouse of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He dreaded meeting his aunt. His anger seethed below the serene exterior, unrelenting since he first heard of her rudeness to his wife. He and Elizabeth, once again, had been forced to revisit the past, dredging up awful memories and emotions that they had successfully resolved. In the end, their indescribable, unbreakable love had triumphed, the only positive in this episode being the proof of how their devotion to each other could and would overcome all odds. Still, Darcy was furious at the interruption to their bliss and communion. He had no clear path, only certain that he must confront his aunt.
She had consented to meet with him, her note impersonal and short, as had been Darcy's to her. As a footman took his coat, Anne appeared to greet him, a sweet smile on her pale face.
“Cousin William! Mother told me you were visiting today, so I have been watching for you.”
“Dearest Anne,” he replied as he kissed her cheek, “have you been well? Any changes?”
She shrugged. “I am the same, William. Fair days followed by ill. Congratulations on your blessed news. I am so very delighted for you and Mrs. Darcy. Has she been well?”