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  • Love Letters from Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Novella Page 7

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Page 7


  “I will try to keep my two big feet out of their business.”

  Mrs. Collins planted her feet firmly on the step, her brow furrowed. “See that you do.”

  “How is Anne?” Darcy was concerned for his cousin. For all of his life, he had known her to be frail. They had not been able to play together as children as her mother had kept her coddled and close— not that they had much in common other than being children of two sisters. Anne was just over a year older than him.

  “She is heartbroken is what she is. You have no care that in shirking your responsibility towards her, you have damaged her heart and will be single-handedly accountable for her death, if it should come to that.” Lady Catherine stepped closer to him with each word until she stood so close he could see the powder encrusted between each line on her face.

  “You are speaking of me?” Darcy was aghast at the insult. “I cut my milk teeth on responsibility and duty, Lady Catherine. I care for my cousin, but no more than familial affection. You will not coerce, badger, or threaten me into acquiescence with your plans.”

  “Then you leave me no choice but to make public the disgraceful conduct of Georgiana. If your mother knew the depths you have fallen to— how you callously offer your sister up to public reproach and shame— she would wash her hands of you, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Your father would be ashamed.”

  “Do not bring Georgiana or my parents into this, Aunt, for it is you of whom they would be ashamed. You, who have long laid claim to being the protector of the family name.” Darcy sucked his breath, his front teeth grinding as he tightened his jaw.

  “Since your cradle you were formed for Anne. Your marriage would be the means of uniting two great estates into the largest land ownership in England. It was destiny when you were born heir, Darcy. I will have it no other way.”

  “Why? Why are you so insistent when you know marriage to me would not make your child happy? What have you to gain from this match, for I cannot believe your dreams are for Anne’s benefit.”

  “Of course she would be happy. She was raised to be the next mistress of Pemberley.”

  “Why would you begin to think so? Was she trained to manage a household? Was she presented at court? Did she have a season? Does she dance at balls? Can she hold a conversation with her peers? I love my cousin, but she is hardly qualified to be my wife.” Darcy could not keep the sneer from his voice and felt sure it was reflected on his face. He had been reared to respect those older than himself, yet the woman sputtering in front of him was laughable.

  “Anne has been under my tutelage since birth. Her regal qualities, her elegant carriage, will complement you in society. Like me, she would be the perfect wife for a Darcy.”

  “What?” He was incredulous. “Like you? My father had no interest in you. He loved my mother until he took his last breath. He had eyes for no other woman, certainly not the sister of his dead wife.”

  Her laugh was bitter and grated on him, causing him to step back from her. The thought of his kind father married to the belligerent Catherine de Bourgh was enough to set his stomach churning.

  “It was I who should have been Mistress of Pemberley. Me! My sister was weak and frail, but George Darcy could not see past her beauty to a woman of real worth. I would have helped him prosper. I would have made sure he was recognized by the King. He would have been no less than a Lord had he married me.”

  “But he did not marry you, and I am glad of it.”

  “Upon my word, Anne will be the next Mrs. Darcy.” Lady Catherine pointed her finger at him, a look of fierce determination on her face. “I will prevail.”

  He was tired of this. Tired of the same old arguments and tired of not being heard. He turned and walked to the fireplace, using the mantel against which to rest his weary self. After a moment, he approached his aunt, stopping at an arm’s length away.

  “In this, you will not. Neither will you use the information about Georgiana against her. For if you do, I will cut you in public. I will make it known in our circle that you are unstable and unfit to see to the needs of your own household, which is the reason I have been assisting you for the last five years. You would be scorned and nobody but a fool would listen to you.”

  “You would threaten me?” She poked her finger at her chest, a look of horror on her face.

  “How does it feel, Lady Catherine? Do you feel the threat? Can you imagine the scorn?”

  “You would not dare!” she blustered.

  Calmness settled over him like a heavy winter cloak. He lifted his brow in the same manner he had witnessed Elizabeth do many times against him. Lowering his voice so she had to lean forward to hear him, he looked her in the eyes and plainly stated. “I dare.”

  “Get out!” He was certain the distant neighbours could hear her shout. “Get out of my sight this instant.”

  He was more than pleased to do so.

  “How is she?”

  Darcy had gone upstairs where he was met by his cousin in the hallway outside Anne’s chambers.

  “The doctor has administered laudanum to settle her, so she should sleep most of the night.” At Darcy’s nod, he continued, “How are you faring?”

  “You heard?”

  “I believe Father and Mother heard all the way in London.” He rested his hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “If you are ever to have a life and a happy future, you must stand firm.”

  “Of this I am aware.” Darcy ran his hand over his face to wipe away the residue of his aunt’s poisonous words.

  The men were surprised when the maid opened the door and invited them into Anne’s rooms. Mrs. Collins was sitting on a chair which had been pulled up to the bed and was stroking Anne’s hand as she spoke, without turning to the men.

  “The doctor believes this is nothing more than one of her spells brought upon her from overly excited emotions. He expects her to be returned to her normal health by morning.”

  Darcy looked at Richard. It was not what they had expected to hear.

  “Mrs. Collins? Are you saying she is not as weak as we have been told?”

  “I am not saying that at all, sirs.” Charlotte directed the maid to bring two additional chairs. Once the men were seated, she began again. “Miss de Bourgh is frail. Her body is fragile and her emotions seem to be the same. I believe the physician meant that she would be unchanged when the medicine wears off, not that there would be an improvement in her overall condition.”

  The men nodded. They had just seated themselves when a light knock was heard on the door. The footman carried a message for Mrs. Collins to meet her husband in the entrance hall. As soon as she vacated the room, the cousins whispered between themselves so the servant in the corner could not hear. They decided to wait in the hallway for the parson’s wife to return.

  “I am grateful she was not made worse.” Darcy loved Anne and felt a measure of guilt that he might have caused her attack.

  “Cousin, remember her words to you before you left the table. She has no desire to marry at all. For you to give in to Aunt Catherine would cause her far more agony and misery than hearing her mother’s voice raised. Good heavens! The woman has one volume and it is loud.”

  “When I was little and my mother would rock me in her chair, she would sing to me softly—one of my most cherished memories. As I aged, I wondered if our aunt did the same for Anne.”

  “I cannot see it.” Richard snorted. “Can you imagine? Poor little Anne. Aunt Catherine has long claimed to be an untrained musical proficient. What is that, anyway?”

  Darcy smiled and shook his head. “I have no clue.”

  “Say, Darce, your Miss Elizabeth can sing, though her playing is not as fine as Georgie’s. Once you can convince her to accept you, Pemberley will be filled with joyful sound. Now, that is something to put your mind to, is it not? How is your courtship coming, by the by? Any progress to report?”

  “You sound like an officer, Richard, expecting me to report in after rallying the troops. This is not a battle to be won
.”

  “It is not?” He heard the surprise in his cousin’s voice and knew it to be genuine. He was not being teased—currently.

  “No. It is the way of men to hunt down and conquer, I recognize that about our sex. However, the female mind does not seem to work in the same manner. They nurture rather than overthrow. They gently prod rather than push. It is their way. So, I am rethinking my approach.”

  “Oh, I see. You come at them from the flank, then.” Richard used his hands to mimic the action.

  “Have you ever been in love before, Rich?” His cousin was a worldly man who had enjoyed the company and companionship of many women. Darcy had never thought to ask him before.

  “Me? In love?” The colonel was stunned.

  “Well, you don’t need to sound like I asked if you had a disease?” Darcy chuckled. “I am serious. Have you ever been in love?”

  Richard put his hand to his chin and rubbed it for a bit before answering.

  “I cannot say I ever have been. In fact, I have not given much thought to the matter. I enjoy my career, Darcy. I enjoy giving orders, and I do not know one woman who likes taking them.”

  Both men laughed softly so they would not disturb anyone in the household.

  “In truth, I might be tempted if I found a woman like Miss Elizabeth. I was not teasing when I asked if you could keep up with her. She is the kind of woman who would settle your home and turn your life upside down.”

  Mrs. Collins approached where they were seated outside Anne’s door.

  “Pardon me, sirs. Your aunt has gone to her bedchamber, and I do not believe she will appreciate any disturbance tonight unless Miss de Bourgh takes a turn for the worst. If you are willing to remain, I will return to Hunsford with my husband. I do not feel comfortable leaving guests on their own. Well, Eliza would be well, but my young sister has never been left alone.”

  Both men were quick to assure her of their attention to their cousin so she felt free to leave. She did so.

  “She is a practical sort of woman,” the colonel observed.

  “Is that what you would want?”

  “Practical? Oh, I do not know. I suppose the woman who finally catches my eye would have to have a measure of practicality, a fuller measure of beauty and wit, and an even greater measure of wealth before I was caught up in the parson’s trap.”

  “Then you have not been in love, cousin, as no amount of wealth brings the same contentment as being with a kind, practical, witty woman.”

  “Humph!” Richard interjected. “Spoken like a rich man.”

  Darcy kicked his cousin’s boot with his own. They smiled. It was the camaraderie between two good friends who were both good men.

  As predicted, Anne slept through most of the night. Before daybreak, Darcy woke to the maid requesting his assistance. Anne was awake.

  “May I bring you anything?”

  Her tone was weak, though firm. “How is it you are here? Where is Mrs. Collins?”

  “She went home to see to her guests.”

  “Might you get me water? I am thirsty.”

  When Darcy helped her up to drink, he was surprised at the firmness of the muscles in her back where he had expected soft flaccidness. He almost pulled his arm away as he verified it was, indeed, Anne.

  “I thank you.” Anne drank the cup empty. “I am always exceedingly thirsty after being drugged.”

  “Pray forgive me, cousin. It was not my intention to distress you at dinner.”

  Her laugh was lacking in mirth. “Is this not just like you to take responsibility where it is not yours to take? I was merely tired of mother’s histrionics and wanted peace.”

  He felt his jaw drop.

  “Oh, do not be surprised, William. I have my own methods of survival in this household. In but eleven months, I will reach the age of thirty. If you recall, my father’s last will and testament outlines that if I am unmarried at that age, I inherit Rosings estate. All of it. Then it will be me, rather than mother, who rules this particular roost.”

  Darcy was stunned beyond belief. Never would he have imagined this was his frail cousin’s plans. He looked at her completely differently to how he ever had before. Who was this woman?

  She laughed, joyfully this time.

  “Oh, cousin, you should see the look on your face. It is priceless. My hope is that you will be here when I tell my mother the dower house is being prepared for her.”

  “Are you ready for the struggle, Anne? I cannot see her letting go without a fierce fight.”

  “Cousin William, I am not her daughter for nothing.” A gleam filled her eyes. “I do have one regret in not marrying you, but mayhaps you will satisfy my curiosity.”

  “Whatever I can do to assist you, I will do.”

  “Kiss me.”

  “What?” The clock on the table kept ticking, though he feared his heart would not.

  “You said you would do what you could to assist me. It is that one thing I ask of you: a simple matter of one kiss. I believe you have many to spare.”

  Darcy shook his head. Compromising, he picked up her hand and placed a quick brush of his lips on the back.

  She was shaking her head.

  “Oh, no. Since I do not plan to marry, I have yet to receive my first real kiss. You owe it to me, William. Now, do it.”

  He felt his heart sink to the soles of his boots. How could he disappoint her? Though he understood why his cousin was asking it of him, he would have to rescind his word. He would not do anything within his power to help her.

  “I will not.” He would feel a traitor to Elizabeth if he did so.

  Her laughter filled the room until it woke Richard. Darcy shook his head, completely perplexed by all that had taken place since he had woken the day before.

  “I would have been surprised had you done so. Your honour is as much a part of you as your determined stubbornness.”

  “Were you testing me? Anne!”

  She laughed louder. He was not pleased.

  The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, and he had an appointment to keep in the glen. He stood and bowed to her.

  “I wish you the best, Anne. Nonetheless, I am tired of being pushed and pulled by my family to do their bidding when it is in direct contrast to my hopes and desires. I am finished.”

  At that, he walked out of the room to quickly refresh himself before he left Rosings to meet Elizabeth. For the first time in hours, he smiled.

  Early morning fog swirled from every direction as Elizabeth closed the door to the parsonage. She pulled her shawl tighter and recalled Mr. Collins’ gift to his bride. True to his words, Elizabeth had observed her friend regularly using his present to ward off the chill of the evening. The fabric was a lovely shade of light blue, Charlotte’s favourite colour. Another case where Elizabeth had thought she was right, but was wrong. As she stepped off the stone porch, she could not help but meditate on the meaning of Mr. Darcy’s request. Best not try to guess his purpose as she was not doing well at reading him correctly either.

  The happiness of the sleepy flowers distracted her, lifting their elegant faces to the little sunlight beams filtering through the mist and greeting her at the garden’s edge. The garden was trimmed and weed-free; superbly kept by Mr. Collins himself. How could the day not bring a smile to her face when Charlotte was contented, the sun continued to rise, and Mr. Darcy awaited her down the pathway? Unintentionally, she hurried her steps.

  Fallen dew clung to her walking boots and the hem of her petticoat and dress. Six inches deep in mud! Elizabeth snickered. To find out Mr. Darcy had been willing to overlook her windblown hair and splattered garments when she had walked the three miles to care for her ill sister when he was forever impeccably groomed, widened her smile.

  The morning was perfect for a stroll, and soon she was at the edge of the glen. He was there. He stood at the edge of the water where they had thrown rocks the day before. Was it only the day before? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Sh
e cleared her throat, and he turned. She heard her name softly floating on the breeze. With confidence he walked towards her, his greatcoat flapping with each step. He did not look down, nor did he survey the glen. His eyes were solely on her.

  Elizabeth squeezed through the arboreal boundary and walked towards him equally as confident. Three steps from her, he rumbled, “I need to hold you.” He did not stop.

  Her heart immediately went to battle with her mind. It was one-sided in favour of reason until she looked into his eyes and saw the truth. It was he who needed to be held.

  Pulling the ribbons, she dropped her bonnet to the ground in time to reach out and clasp him around the waist. His long arms gathered her to him tightly until she felt they were one flesh. As she turned her head to rest on his chest, his lowered so his cheek was on her curls. She felt him quiver.

  They stood in the field for the longest time holding each other, him chanting her Christian name over and over as she listened to the pounding rhythm of his heart. When his breathing finally regulated, the beats became steadily slower until Elizabeth knew he was again under his normal control.

  She was surprised at herself. Never had she been held this close by a man not her father. Not even her favourite uncle, Edward Gardiner, had given her more than a cursory embrace. She felt…secure, protected, and cherished.

  “Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth knew not to lift her head when she spoke. She pressed it to his chest. His mouth would be too close to hers if she had done so, his lips mere inches away. Temptation!

  “I plead with you, Elizabeth, call me William as my family does when we are not in company. I pray you.” He spoke softly into her hair. She knew she had chosen wisely when his words were followed by his lips touching her temple. Their first kiss, if it happened, would be when and if she had fully decided to marry him, not before.

  She swallowed.

  “Mr. Darcy…William, is Miss de Bourgh…did Miss de Bourgh…?”

  “Do not fret. She is alive and as well as can be.” Even he heard the bitterness to his words. He inhaled sharply. “Pardon me, I pray you. My conversation with my aunt did not go well. The exchange I had with Anne was even more unsettling.” He stiffened his spine. “I was privy to a whole new side of my cousin. She is not the woman I thought her to be.”