Fitzwilliam Darcy Read online

  A union with Elizabeth Bennet would not violate anyone’s social standing. He was a gentleman, she a gentleman’s daughter.

  Of course, he was Matlock now – a peer, not a mere gentleman.

  Darcy shook his head. He did not have time to waste in such idle thoughts.

  Yet the idea persisted. Miss Bingley’s suggested temporary solution was a practicable one, even if the idea of such flagrant duplicity irked him. But when he imagined carrying out such a scheme, it was not Miss Bingley by his side in his mind.

  It was Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s face he pictured.

  Darcy could think of no other woman with whom he could manage such a ruse. Miss Bingley had not the disposition, the inclination to laugh at the outright silliness of the matter. She would take it seriously; perhaps too seriously, he thought. Miss Elizabeth, however, would laugh and laugh. Her head would not be turned by the celebrity caused by his situation, nor did she appear to concern herself with finding a husband of any sort. He knew her interests were not generally material; she occupied her mind with other avenues.

  Darcy knew not her age, but she was far too young to be considered a spinster; she would have several years yet to find a husband.

  Darcy could just make out the voices of Bingley’s visitors downstairs.

  He abhorred deceit.

  But if she agreed, it would only be for a little while. They would not have to maintain the charade for long. He’d be able to move forward as Matlock in peace.

  * * *

  A little while later Darcy sat in his carriage, parked a short distance from Longbourn. He’d not be able to stay here much longer. The Bennets did not live in Meryton itself, but this road was well-travelled and the weather was fine. He was alone for the moment, but that would not last long.

  His trunks had been left at Netherfield. If Miss Elizabeth agreed to be his companion for the next few weeks, he would be residing there awhile longer. Darcy had not informed Bingley of his plan. If she said no, there would be no point. If she said yes…

  It would sort itself out.

  Steeling himself, Darcy ordered the driver to proceed to the house. Longbourn was lovely, if in need of some maintenance. What he could see of the garden was rather charming. He was admitted to the house and shown to the sitting room.

  “Miss Bennet will be with you shortly, sir.”

  “Is the rest of the family at home?” he asked.

  “No, sir,” said the servant. “They’ve gone into town on a visit, although Mr. Bennet is in his library. Shall I fetch him?”

  “No, no,” said Darcy rather quickly. “That’s quite alright.”

  The servant left to fetch Miss Elizabeth, leaving Darcy one last moment to consider the trajectory of his actions.

  Miss Elizabeth might very well be disgusted with him.

  Bingley would laugh.

  His sister… he rather thought she’d laugh, too. But Georgiana was a romantic sort; when this charade was over, she was like as not to have her feelings hurt that he and Elizabeth didn’t pan out into some grand romance out of one of the novels she loved so much.

  Miss Bingley was going to be furious.

  And then the time for reconsideration ended; Miss Elizabeth Bennet entered the room.

  “Mr. Darcy,” she said, smiling as she came to sit in the chair opposite his.

  “Miss Bennet,” he said. “You’re looking quite well.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’m feeling rather better, now that I am home.”

  “It shows.”

  “But what of you? How are you faring? I do hope you’ve been able to rest since receiving your news.”

  “I am well, thank you.”

  “The strangled note in your voice gives you away, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet, her expression turning speculative before she blushed. “Forgive me, my lord.”

  “Nevermind the address, if you please,” he said, moving to stand by the window behind his chair. “I’ve hardly had time to get used to it myself; I could not fault you for the same.”

  “I suppose that will have to do,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “As I cannot seem to make you my lord in my own mind.”

  Darcy turned to face her. The sudden action discombobulated her further.

  “I do not mean to suggest that you should be my anything, sir. Please do not mistake me,” she began, but seemed to lose track of her words almost immediately.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I have something to ask you.”

  She stopped talking and folded her hands over her lap.

  “I find myself in a peculiar situation,” he began. “I’m supposed to leave today to attend to Matlock’s transition before returning to act as guest of honor at Netherfield Wednesday next.”

  “Will you have a great many things to deal with in taking over the estate?” she asked. “I do not mean to pry into your private affairs. I simply wondered whether it will be overwhelming to you.”

  “It means a great many things to deal with, yes. You are right about that. As to being overwhelmed,” he said, “only time will tell. Your question does you credit, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “How so?”

  “You have intuited my reason for calling.”

  “Am I to help you with your earldom, then?” she said with a surprised laugh. “Mr. Darcy – my lord – I am flattered by the suggestion, but I do not see how I can help you in any such way.”

  “I need a fiancée.”

  Elizabeth stared up at him blankly.

  “Explain yourself, please.”

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I do not mean to be so abrupt.”

  “We are well enough acquainted by now, my lord, that I am unoffended by your occasional compendiosity. Go on, please.”

  “I received a letter yesterday from my aunt, a woman of great means and no little influence in society. Lady Catherine suggested that my transition from Darcy to Matlock would be eased considerably by taking a wife.”

  Elizabeth nodded carefully.

  “You agree with that assertion?” Darcy asked.

  “I can certainly see that it might be the case,” said Elizabeth carefully. “However, not all women are well suited to the position of wife, and it’s unfortunately not the sort of thing one discovers until after one is already married. I can only imagine peerage complicates that further.”

  “Interesting,” said Darcy. He’d be amused at the observation some later time.

  “Miss Bingley has also expressed a similar opinion,” he continued. “She thinks the social demands of the elevation will be complicated by my unmarried state.”

  “I can unequivocally agree with that,” said Elizabeth. “When the unmarried ladies of our poor county find out there’s an unattached earl in their midst, I expect you shan’t have a moment’s peace.”

  “You expect correctly,” said Darcy. “My uncle’s death was in the news just this morning. When I left Netherfield, there were already more than a dozen visitors asking to see me.”

  “So few?” said Elizabeth with a laugh. “Excuse my jest, my lord, but it must be said. My own mother trotted out my sisters’ finest wardrobes this very morning. There was someone new she wanted them to meet. I ought to have known she meant to find and secure you first.” She laughed again.

  Darcy smiled a little.

  “Then already you see, it is indeed a complication.”

  “Indeed,” she said, still chuckling. “And so you need a fiancée.”

  “Precisely,” he said.

  “You did not say ‘wife.’ I assume this is meant to be a temporary arrangement?”

  He nodded.

  “And you desire my help in finding such a one?” she asked.

  “In a manner of speaking. I came here to ask whether you would consider taking the role yourself.”

  Chapter 9

  Elizabeth jolted; her eyes opened wide. She seemed completely taken aback.

  “I mean no insult, Miss Elizabeth,” he said quickly. “Please do not misunderstan
d me. I have nothing but the highest respect for you, for your family, and for your reputation. What I propose is a very brief arrangement. You would play the part of my new fiancée, freeing me from the marriage-minded set who have heard about Pemberley and now Matlock and the earldom. It will free me from becoming covered over with social obligations and unnecessary entanglements.”

  “Why not just get married? Certainly you have no shortage women who would agree to the office.” she said. Her tone had dried.

  Darcy took his time answering her question, making a study of the sitting room furniture in the meantime.

  “I suppose I could,” he said. “I do not consider myself to be particularly romantic, Miss Bennet. But I’m told my own parents were a love match who just happened to be well-suited in the eyes of society. I suppose I’d like time to try to find that for myself.”

  When he brought his gaze back to hers, Elizabeth had a small smile on her face.

  “What?” he asked. Her smile vanished.

  “I believe I understand you,” she said. “I do see how such an arrangement would be beneficial to you at present, my lord. But what of me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why should I embroil myself? And in such a way that is all but guaranteed to bring me infamy amongst all the women in England, not to mention the scandal that will be brought down on me and mine when this purported engagement ends.” She spoke this last with no malice, as though she was merely observing a curiosity.

  “I confess, I had not given much thought to the completion of the arrangement,” said Darcy, abashed.

  “If you will indulge me, my lord,” she began. He nodded for her to continue. “I think you have identified your goal – which is to assume the full responsibility of your title without having to answer to the demands of society’s frame of time, which is undesirable to you. Is that a fair assessment?”

  “It is,” said Darcy. He keenly aware that Miss Elizabeth took pains to be kind with her words.

  “We are well enough acquainted, my lord, that I perceive your objective in coming here to secure my hand – in name only, that is – cannot have been an idea of your own genesis,” she said. “I cannot believe that a man of your character could conceive it. Have I the right of that as well?”

  Darcy nodded. He could name his source without implicating her character, and so did not add to Miss Elizabeth’s assessment.

  “But you must have had some inducement in mind?” she asked with half a smile. “I daresay you had a plan.”

  “Your sisters,” he confessed, less sure of himself than ever. “Your sisters would fare better in life with dowries, would they not?”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose dramatically and a hot blush rose to her cheeks. Interesting, that mentioning her family’s station in life brought her embarrassment, while his proposing a faux-engagement did not. Darcy admired her the more for the understanding.

  “They would. What do you know about it?”

  “Your younger sisters came to call at Netherfield while you were ill, along with your mother. Something was mentioned,” he said. She closed her eyes. “Forgive me, I do not mention it now to embarrass you. But Miss Bennet, my point is that I am now an exceptionally wealthy man. I am in a position to give your sisters those dowries, if you can help me.”

  “Fascinating,” she said, opening her eyes.

  She rose to pace the room. Barely a moment passed before he could bear her contemplative silence no longer.

  “What precisely in this mess do you find fascinating, Miss Bennet?”

  “Your offer of dowries for my sisters,” she said, turning once more to face him. “You could have offered me a dowry of my own, and I’d have enjoyed rejecting you that same instant.”

  “The idea did occur to me; I suspected it would not be well-received,” he admitted.

  “But for my sisters…” she said. “If a few weeks inconvenience can bring so much peace of mind, so much security for my family’s future, the very least I can do is try.”

  Darcy’s heart leaped in his chest.

  “Then you agree?”

  “No,” she said. She held up a hand when he would speak. “Please, my lord. Allow me to offer you an alternative, instead.”

  She resumed her seat.

  “It becomes neither of our honor to attempt a charade such as you have suggested,” she said, her tone only hinting at reproval. “Yet I believe I can be of some help to you still. What I propose is this: let it be known that during his stay in Hertfordshire, the Earl of Matlock has been courting a gentleman’s daughter – namely, myself. Therein would be sufficient news to drive the gossipmongers to talk away all but the most singleminded fortune-hunters, yet it will leave both our reputations intact when your present storm has passed.”

  Darcy felt in that moment the full weight of what he’d asked of the woman before him. Her words, her idea, and her character stood in such stark contrast to that of Miss Bingley, he struggled to keep his countenance.

  Of course, without Miss Bingley’s suggestion, he’d never have come to this place at all.

  Miss Elizabeth Bennet had in one brief statement established herself in his estimation above every woman Darcy had ever met.

  He crossed the room and offered his hand; she clasped it with a solemn nod. It was the first time he’d touched her.

  “I thank you,” he said, bowing deeply over their joined palms.

  “What on earth for?” she said.

  “Pointing me down a better path,” he said solemnly. “I should never have come here with such a foolish scheme in mind. I hope you can forgive me that foolishness.”

  Her expression softened. “Grief affects us all, my lord, and what I’ve seen of it, it comes in as many ways as there are people on earth. I would not condemn you for behaving out of character.”

  “You are kind. Perhaps too kind,” he said. “I should not make excuses for me, were I in your shoes.”

  “Then perhaps it is just as well that we each remain in our own shoes,” she said. “And before this metaphor gets any further out of hand, perhaps we ought to make a plan.”

  “A plan?”

  “A plan, my lord,” she said. “If we’re to do battle with all the marriage-minded mamas in England, it’s best to be prepared. You may trust my authority on this subject; I have good reason to know it.”

  Plan they did, though to any outside observer it looked a great deal more like walking. They walked the gardens at Longbourn, discussing travel arrangements, their respective families, and dates for the most important gatherings Darcy would be expected to attend. Darcy took pains to be accommodating; Miss Elizabeth took pains to try to make him laugh.

  “I’m afraid I should encourage you to leave, my lord,” she said at length. “I expect my mother and sisters any moment now.”

  “You are right, of course,” he said. “Though perhaps you might call me Fitzwilliam. I am not yet used to being ‘my lord’ to anyone; it does not seem fair to impose it on you of all people.”

  “Hm,” she said. “Perhaps.” It made him smile.

  The pair had been so ensconced with their conversation neither had observed the curricle which had arrived during their exercise.

  “Who on earth would be visiting now?” wondered Elizabeth aloud. “Never you mind, Mr. Darcy – forgive me, my lord. You’d best go tell Mr. Bingley that he’s to have you as houseguest awhile longer.”

  Darcy bowed over her hand once more.

  “Enjoy the peace in the interim,” she added. “I expect it will be the last for some time.”

  And at last, he left.

  * * *

  Elizabeth Bennet was satisfied with her life, as a whole. She had family she loved, though they sometimes drove her mad. She had a few excellent friends, the dearest of whom was Charlotte Lucas.

  Charlotte was going to laugh herself silly at Elizabeth’s ordeal.

  The thought made her smile all the way back inside the house. Her father’s voice com
ing from his study stopped her in the hall.

  “Lizzy, come here,” he called. “There is someone I want you to meet.”

  Elizabeth pushed the study door open. A vicar sat in the chair across from her father’s desk; he rose as she entered the room.

  “Mr. Collins, allow me to introduce my daughter, Elizabeth. Lizzy, this is Mr. Collins.”

  “How do you do, sir?” she said.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “It is my very great honor to make your acquaintance.”

  “Mr. Collins is the son of my father’s cousin,” said Mr. Bennet. His eyes widened, as though trying to convey some message to her.

  “Ah, yes. Of course,” said Elizabeth faintly. So this was the man who would inherit Longbourn when her father died.

  “Just so, cousin,” said Mr. Collins. “I am on a mission from heaven itself. Thus I have come regard it, anyway.”

  “Mr. Collins was just telling me about his patroness,” said Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth recognized her father’s suppressed laughter when she heard it, though she’d not yet perceived its source.

  “Oh, yes! My most generous patroness, and one of the most superior ladies in all of England, is the owner of a grand estate called Rosings.”

  “Oh,” said Elizabeth. “The estate must be very grand indeed if you would equate it to heaven.”

  “Oh, yes, Miss Elizabeth,” sighed Mr. Collins. “I do not think it blasphemous to say that Rosings Park is the nearest one could get to heaven on this earth. My esteemed patroness has done a very great deal to see to its improvements these last few years. I am very fortunate in my situation, you must see.”

  “Yes,” said Elizabeth, astonished. She did not see but knew not how else to answer.

  “It is my privilege to travel to Hertfordshire at her ladyship’s behest. It was her express wish that myself and Mr. Bennet might be acquainted, and that I make the best use of my visit here by spending it with family as time permits.”