- Home
- Georgina Peel
Impatiently, Darcy
Impatiently, Darcy Read online
Impatiently, Darcy
Darcy is incensed by Lady Catherine’s actions aimed at forcing him to marry her daughter.
He chooses an extreme subterfuge, but has he thought through all the dangers?
Elizabeth Bennet needs to take drastic action to escape the unwanted attention and verbal venom of Mr. Collins. Jane’s solution seems to offer this — and an interesting adventure, to boot. After all, she can change her mind at any time before agreeing to marry a gentleman who seems to seek a bride by letter.
However, she finds herself committing to marriage despite her reservations — and embroiled in the lives of the family.
But Mr. Darcy is angered at her permitting his relations to become too fond of her — after all, she’ll be out of this pretence very soon, won’t she?
Two people with completely different expectations — can either find happiness now?
Impatiently, Darcy is a sweet and clean quick read Regency novella of 39,000 words.
Impatiently, Darcy
Harriet Knowles
Georgina Peel
Copyright © 2018 by Harriet Knowles
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination, apart from those characters and locations so famously bequeathed to us by Jane Austen. Thank you, Jane Austen.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Afterword
1
Darcy scowled at the view from the window. The gathering storm clouds suited his mood and the crags of the surrounding hills were already obscured by the racing clouds. It would be foolish to ride out, even though it would ease his temper.
He glared at the letter on his desk. How dare she? And why hadn’t his uncle prevented her?
He strode back to his desk and seized the letter. What was he to do?
Aunt Catherine’s words seared into him afresh.
Darcy,
You have waited far too long to be married, and so has Anne.
You have been very selfish, given that she is now six and twenty, and you must be aware that bearing you an heir will be more difficult for her as she gets older.
I will wait no longer. You are nearing thirty years old, and you must announce your betrothal, or I will do it for you.
I have made an appointment for you to see the Archbishop next week, the 20th, to purchase the licence, and I will book St. Martin’s Church for the ceremony. That will be suitably close so that Anne may marry from Matlock House.
Your uncle is in agreement with this, and I will expect you in London by the end of the week so that further arrangements can be made.
I have called at Darcy House and instructed the housekeeper on the changes that will need to be made to the lady’s chambers so that they suit Anne.
I think you need to change your housekeeper. She was most disapproving. I know of just the right person, and she knows Anne’s requirements.
Darcy threw down the letter again. “Damnation!”
It was no better on the second reading.
And how dare Lady Catherine enter his mother’s former chambers? How dare she try and make changes?
He sat down and seized notepaper and his pen. That was the first thing, to prevent that happening and reassure his housekeeper that her position was safe. He thought for a moment. Poor Mrs. Porter. But she would not do anything until she had received word from him.
He sat back for a moment until he could calm himself before writing to his steward.
He sealed the letter and put it to the side before he reached for the London Times and turned to the court pages, to the entry that had caught his eye only that very morning.
A new service for discerning gentlemen of means.
His eyes dropped down the column. The Dowager Countess of Somerville was offering a service to find and approve ladies of gentle birth and excellent manners. This would mean, as she wrote:
Gentlemen will not need to expend their valuable time at balls and other places in an attempt to meet a suitable lady.
That morning, he’d looked very sardonically at the advertisement, as that was most certainly what it was, even though the typesetting made it appear to be an item of news.
Now, he read it more carefully. Of course, he had no intention of marrying, but perhaps Lady Somerville might still be able to assist him.
He smiled wryly. Of course, he had met her in the past. She was an older lady, of his parent’s generation, who’d been active in checking prospective young ladies who sought vouchers to Almacks. She certainly possessed the right experience, and he knew of her as utterly discreet.
Yes, surely she could assist him in this matter. He wondered what her son, the new Earl, thought of his mother’s venture, and chuckled as he imagined that gentleman’s heavy sigh.
He drew a new sheet of headed notepaper towards him.
Ten minutes later, he was still sitting there, thinking. How much did he need to offer a young lady, for her to agree to pretend to be his betrothed? Obviously all her costs — and suitable attire, he presumed.
Three weeks. Surely Lady Catherine would give up if he produced a fiancee at Uncle Henry’s sixtieth birthday ball. Maybe he should require her readiness for six weeks in total before the arrangement came to an end?
So how much should he offer to add to her fortune for her future security? He had thought one thousand pounds should do it, but if she had adequate security, it might seem too little.
He frowned. What sort of lady would respond to a service offered by Lady Somerville? He laughed humourlessly and rang the bell. Of course, all young ladies only wished to marry a gentleman of wealth, he was certain of that. Perhaps three thousand would be generous enough to attract the attention of someone suitable.
“Coffee, please, Mr. Payne.”
The butler bowed before closing the door behind him.
It felt utterly wrong to be writing to an unrelated lady, and Darcy felt he wore a track in the carpet as he paced up and down, trying to word his letter appropriately.
Eventually, he took up the sheet he had written and read it through.
Madam,
I am writing in response to your interesting piece in the court pages this morning and I am hoping that your service might be able to assist me in my current dilemma.
I find myself in need of saying that I do not yet wish to marry. However, I am under considerable pressure to wed my cousin.
I have tried many times to say that I am not willing to marry, however, it has been to no avail.
Having seen the entry in the Times today, I wonder if you can assist me, even though it is not exactly the service you are offe
ring.
In a few weeks, it is my uncle’s birthday, and they will be entertaining at Matlock House, in London.
If you are able to find a suitable young lady who would be able to assist me by attending this event as my fiancee, and being available for some weeks both before and afterwards, I am prepared to make a considerable payment to her fortune to assist her to secure her future.
After Lady Catherine de Bourgh (I am sure you know of my aunt) has accepted the situation, then the young lady you have supplied will be able to discontinue the engagement and return to her family.
I understand, of course, that there will be much still to agree, and I look forward to your early response.
He folded the sheet and sealed it. After writing her name on the outside, he enclosed the whole in a further sheet, addressing it to the lawyer’s address given in the article.
He laid the letter aside with relief and went to the decanter. His next letter would be easier with the assistance of a small whisky. Coffee would most certainly not do.
He sipped the spirit slowly as he gazed out of the window. Clouds were lifting along with his mood. When he had written to Lady Catherine, he would reward himself with a ride out to the hills.
2
Elizabeth hurried down the driveway and turned right, up the lane towards the hills. She glanced back, even though she was sure Mr. Collins wouldn’t follow her.
She really needed to get away from Longbourn for a few hours. She climbed the stile and jumped down onto the little track that wound upwards through the lower part of the woods.
“Miss Elizabeth! Miss Elizabeth!” She heard his odious voice calling her and shuddered. She had been wrong. He would try to follow her.
Well, he wasn’t going to catch her, and she caught up her skirts and began to run, angling away, down towards Meryton. She wanted to be able to be quiet, up in the hills, but she dare not risk that disgusting cousin saying he had been alone with her.
She must think of somebody who would say she’d been with her all afternoon. Aunt Philips would do very well, and Elizabeth began to think of morsels of gossip that her aunt would spread around the town, so everyone knew she must have been there.
She’d rather go to Charlotte, perhaps, and she hesitated a moment.
No. Mr. Collins might follow her there, and she wouldn’t wish that on her friend, or any of the family. He wouldn’t think she would go to Aunt Philips, and although her company was not what Elizabeth wanted just now, it was so much better than sitting at home listening to Mama and Mr. Collins just assuming that she, Elizabeth, would agree to marry him.
She shivered. It was only a matter of a few days now until she would have to endure his offer, followed by her mother’s rage when she refused him. And refuse him she would.
She hurried along the path to the town, glad that he was so large and unused to exercise. He must be a long way behind her.
She was happy Jane was already betrothed. She, at least, was free of Mr. Collins’ attentions. It was just a pity that Mr. Lawrence, the vicar at Shenley, had little fortune. His living would be enough to keep them and raise a small family. But he would not be able to help Mama and the girls if they lost Longbourn.
Elizabeth shrugged off the thought. Papa was going to live for many more years. She had quite decided that and so it would come to pass, she told herself, trying to brush away the small niggling worry. Their fortune was so very small, so very insignificant. No true gentleman, however wealthy, would look at any of them.
She pushed away her thoughts and hurried along the street until she came to Aunt Philips’ home, glancing back as she knocked on the door.
The housemaid opened the door and Elizabeth smiled. “Good afternoon, Helen. May I call upon my aunt?”
Sitting by her aunt and taking tea, Elizabeth tried to keep her mind on the conversation but her aunt was so vulgar. Her thoughts wandered somewhat.
What was her life to be like? Would she always be here, in this town, listening to relations and neighbours, wondering what it might have been like if things had been different?
She nodded sadly as her aunt lectured her on her responsibility to ensure she made her family safe.
“I will try, Aunt. But of course, it is hard to marry a wealthy gentleman when I am here in Meryton and have such a small fortune.”
“No, no! I was not saying that, Lizzy! You must know I was talking of Mr. Collins. Your mother has told me that you are trying to avoid him, that she is concerned that you might refuse the honour of his offer.” Aunt Philips frowned at her. “Surely you would love to be mistress of Longbourn and make your mother secure?”
“Of course I would, Aunt Phillips.” Elizabeth shook her head. “But not if I have to be Mrs. Collins. I cannot have any respect for him, and he is — not polite. He demeans me and talks of how small my portion is — even though he is to inherit what should be rightfully Jane’s.”
“That’s something you will have to tolerate, for the sake of your family,” Aunt Philips sounded smug. “It can ultimately be a good thing.” She looked around her with a satisfied eye. “I am content with what I have from my marriage.”
“You have a lovely home,” Elizabeth agreed, silently thinking that Uncle Philips was another of the sort whom she would never wish to know.
She suppressed a shudder, she ought not to judge others. “Thank you for my tea, Aunt Philips, I must go home now.”
She swung on the bedpost of Jane’s bed as she watched her sister comb her hair. “It’s dreadful, Jane. What am I to do?”
Jane met her gaze through her reflection. “You must not accept him, Lizzy.” She sighed. “Although I cannot see Mama being pleased.”
“Pleased? You know as well as I do that she will be so angry. She will demand that I accept him.” Elizabeth flopped down onto the bed. “I do not know if Papa will stand up to her and let me refuse him.” She sat up suddenly.
“You heard him, Jane, this afternoon, when I got back from Aunt Philips. He was going to say I had walked with him in the woods alone so that I would be compromised! How could he say that? A clergyman, too!”
Jane laughed. “Well, you had the last say, Lizzy.” Her eyes rolled. “His face when you asked him what Lady Catherine de Bourgh would think of him if he put a lady in a compromising position. I thought he would have a fit of apoplexy!”
Elizabeth huffed. “Perhaps he will think more carefully next time.” She looked up at Jane. “I don’t know how I know it, but I think if I were to marry him, he would abuse me, and not just with words. I think that I would soon be beaten down, defeated.” She frowned. “I do not wish to be.”
Jane laughed. “You must never marry him, Lizzy.” Her eyes brightened. “I know. You must go to Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in London. We will say you have a suitor there!”
“And where will I get a suitor, Jane?” Elizabeth laughed.
“Well, we read the advertisement in the Times today,” Jane said slyly. “Lady Somerville must need young ladies to marry these discerning wealthy gentlemen.”
Elizabeth collapsed into laughter. “I hardly think I am a young lady from a highly suitable background, Jane.”
Jane chuckled with her. “Oh, I don’t know, you are the daughter of a gentleman, and you come highly recommended by me.”
“No,” Elizabeth gasped, eventually. “Well, London, yes. But an unknown gentleman, who cannot attract a wife in the normal way, despite his wealth? No, assuredly not. Why, he might be just like Mr. Collins.”
“I think it would be worth considering,” Jane said stubbornly.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Abuse within a wealthy marriage is still going to try and break my spirit, Jane.”
But as she snuggled down into her own bed a few minutes later, Elizabeth wondered what it would be like to meet a gentleman for the first time, knowing that you were already engaged to be married.
As she drifted off to sleep she had a stray thought. It would be quite an adventure.
3
<
br /> The Honourable Richard Fitzwilliam, Colonel in the Dragoon Guards, shifted uncomfortably in the leather chair in his father’s library. He’d helped himself to a whisky, and then another. This was something he had to do. But when Darcy found out, he’d be terrifically angry.
But his friend needed it, needed someone to find a lady for him. He’d be better married, he just couldn’t see it for himself. And now their aunt was trying to make him marry Cousin Anne.
Richard shook his head. Anne was totally the wrong person for Darcy, he knew that. Neither of them would be happy. Anne would be unhappy, and he couldn’t bear that thought.
He steeled himself and put down the glass. His family were all in the drawing room, so he could do this now, before dinner. He smiled slightly as he picked up today’s copy of the Times.
Lady Somerville’s article was repeated in today’s issue. She was certainly a determined woman, and Richard chuckled at the thought of how David would react if his own mother decided to do something like this once their father was gone.
But she wouldn’t do it. Mother was kind and gentle, and occupied her time with good deeds and philanthropy in her husband’s name.
He tightened his jaw. Darcy needed a lady like that — but with a bit of spirit to keep him young. Yes, that’s what he’d say in his letter.