Mr Darcy's Legacy, page 1
Mr Darcy’s Legacy
Florence Gold
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Florence Gold
All rights reserved.
Cover: Ana Damian
Author’s Note
Out of respect for Jane Austen I chose to use, in my novel, British English.
The only deviation was the use of double quotation marks.
Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Read by the same author
Prologue
It was a pleasant evening at Mrs and Mr Hurst’s house in London. Several close friends were present, as well as Miss Caroline Bingley, Mrs Hurst’s sister. Caroline had accompanied Louisa and her husband when they decided to leave Netherfield as their brother’s estate had been overtaken by the Bennet girls.
The unthinkable had just happened: their brother proposed to Jane Bennet and Mr Darcy to that country nobody, Eliza Bennet. If they still had a sort of appreciation for Jane, the Bingley sisters had nothing but contempt for Elizabeth. How it was possible for a gentleman like Mr Darcy, connected to the Ton, with impeccable manners and such a distinguished attitude to fall for a girl like Eliza Bennet, was a mystery.
As Jane, seemingly, was going to be their sister in law they decide to forget the subject for a while, allowing time and distance to contribute to a decent relationship, only because they dearly loved their brother. In time Jane would inevitably evolve to be the Lady their brother needed and his sisters would be the first to salute the change and accept her.
In these new circumstances, all their rancour and hostility turned on Elizabeth. They discussed this situation for days, between themselves or with friends, and decided that no matter how much they appreciated Mr Darcy, they would tolerate but never accept Elizabeth Bennet. They were sure London society would react appropriately to her lack of qualities, her common behaviour, and her questionable beauty.
But when Acton, a cousin on their mother’s side, came only a few days ago with some intriguing news regarding Mr Darcy, their rancour turned instantly into jubilation. Mr Darcy had mysteriously disappeared and Charles, as well as many people in London, were searching for him. For days they debated the subject; the Bingley sisters were absolutely sure Mr Darcy had run away scared by marriage. It was not the most delicate solution a gentleman could find to the marriage problem, but they were ready to forget the scandal and forgive him. Moreover, they intended to make a triumphant return to their friend, because they were sure that once back, Elizabeth would be a forgotten complication.
Mr Darcy’s disappearance quickly became the most interesting news London had seen in weeks. The subject was discussed in all houses in different ways and attitudes. It was always a significant event for a groom to run from his wedding but, some of them agreed, this time it seemed to be more than a lovers’ quarrel or a frightened groom. No sane gentleman would disappear leaving his family with no news; ready to go to extreme measures to find the missing one.
“I strongly believe that Mr Darcy has not run from his marriage to Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Hurst said, and all the party regarded him in astonishment. He rarely contributed to their discussions and even less so to the gossip. He had a natural indifference for the events around them that his wife tended to encourage allowing her words to prevail in all discussions.
“Why do you say that?” Mrs Hurst asked in a very sharp voice, meant to discourage her husband, but it seemed he had recovered his appetite for London’s gossip.
“Remember when the Earl of Northshore disappeared just a day before the marriage?” he said. “Nobody searched for him as it was obvious the family, and even the bride, knew what had happened. He was not really missing, but he left for Leuven…”
“… For Antwerp!” his wife interrupted him with an even sharper voice, but her husband did not intend to let her silence him.
“It does not matter, my dear, where he was headed; we all knew the gossip was a lie as he had never left London. In that twisted way he announced the world and family that he would not marry. But in this case, Darcy’s sister, Miss Georgiana, is desperate. She made the trip to London asking Charles and your cousin, Acton, to come and help find her brother. Miss Elizabeth and her father, Mr Bennet, are also in London searching for him.”
“How do you know such details?” asked Mrs Hurst in an angry burst.
But Mr Hurst kept his temper, and smilingly he answered that he found out all from Acton whom he met some days ago.
“You met Acton and you never told us?” Louisa Hurst was grimly looking at her husband, only the presence of their friends stopped her from admonishing her husband.
“Yes, Madam, I find it is my duty to assist a friend in need; I met Acton and offered my help.”
Luiza Hurst tried to temper her nerves as it was an excellent opportunity to find more about what happened in Darcy’s London house where, it seemed, all Hertfordshire was now present.
“And?” Caroline Bingley asked seeing her sister’s anger.
“And Acton told me about the efforts made to discover Mr Darcy’s doings in the last days. As they were increasingly worried about his disappearance, Charles and Mr Bennet organised a search party in London, imagining, in despair, he might have been attacked or robbed and wounded. When I spoke to Acton, he was alone in London, all parties being gone, following another trail in the country.”
He was silent for a moment, but continued, “No, dear friends, I am sure it is not the usual story.”
“And yet, it is not what London says!” Mrs Hurst boldly tried to regain her place in the discussion, but her husband seemed to enjoy this new attention he was getting from his guests.
“Well, London likes to gossip a bit too much,” he said, “and not only about the news they have heard but also, so many times in the past, about stories invented by those who wished to stand out.”
“I heard, for instance,” one of the friends around the table said, “that it is possible he had been summoned by the widow of Sir John Hadleigh to marry her, as her child, she says, is Mr Darcy’s child.”
Everybody was silent for a moment; they remembered some years ago a scandal with Lady Francine, but nobody was sure Darcy had been involved.
“I do not think that the lover was Mr Darcy,” another guest got involved in the conversation, “I think Mr Darcy had an affair in his youth with Lady Eleonora Atherton…”
“No, no!” Caroline Bingley almost shouted, “I do not remember him being involved in any sort of scandal. He was very discreet and in no way, would he ever fall into the trap of someone like Lady Eleonora Atherton!”
“And yet,” her sister said, “he fell into the trap of Miss Elizabeth Bennet!”
She said the name with such irony and disdain that everybody around the table smiled. They did not know Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but they had confidence in Mrs Hurst.
“I am sure,” Mrs Hurst continued, “that it was her or Mr Bennet’s idea to spread the news of his disappearance through London, to make it look like some dramatic event and encourage people to believe he had an accident and had not just left her in front of the altar.”
“Well, my dear,” her husband said, “maybe something bad has really occurred to him and it was a good decision to alert everybody! Have you, at least for an instant, considered that he might truly be ill or has suffered an accident or even been smuggled and wounded, somewhere in dangerous London?”
But nobody answered that question; they fully enjoyed all the rumours that were circulating across Town, almost instantly invading their dining room and parlours.
Each evening they gathered in someone’s house for dinner, sharing the latest news their servants, and butlers peddled all day long.
“I can tell you that the last time London has seen such a disturbance was when the elder son of the Duke of Yorkshire married a dancer from Paris.”
“My dear, it was not a dancer, but there are ladies around this table and I cannot tell you what she really was!” one guest said with a wicked smile.
They all laughed, especially the ladies who knew much more of that story than their husbands imagined.
“And what is this cousin of yours doing with the search party?” another guest asked.
“Acton is a dutiful, young gentleman, eager to please and to be helpful. He was at Netherfield when we left, so most likely he accompanied Georgiana and the Bennets to London, to help them. I wonder if they are all staying at Darcy’s house. Mr Darcy was never too fond of guests,” Caroline Bingley muttered.
***
Unfortunately for their plans and their usual gossip, one evening, as they prepared to eat, Charles Bingley made a rushed entrance. Their brother was looking awfully tired but smiling, obviously having good news to announce. He was, at
He hesitated for some moments, glancing around the table, then finally he breathed deeply and said, “I am so happy to announce to you all that my friend Mr Darcy is back in London.”
He made a pause for sipping some wine and looking around the table, to see the effect of his words.
“In fact, he did not disappear, he was not missing but just had the bad luck to fall ill in a remote place in the country unable to inform his family and friends. In the end, all the ado and the trepidation has been for nothing, but we are very grateful to everybody who worried about him. It was a great proof of appreciation that London society showed to my friend!”
His speech was eloquent and affectionate as it came from his good heart – of that, nobody in attendance doubted.
“My dear,” Caroline said in her affected tone, “you have to tell us more! We were all nervous and even frightened and feared the worst about Mr Darcy’s misadventure.”
Bingley was again slightly uncomfortable; he did not have any details to spare, especially to such a gathering, but he regained his amiable spirit and said, “Darcy is grateful to you and everybody around who obliged him by making such efforts to search for him through London. He is still weak after his illness but as soon as he recovers I am sure you will meet him and his betrothed, Miss Bennet, at parties and happy gatherings.”
“And Eliza?” Caroline asked with a false concern that her brother, with his benevolent nature, was far from understanding.
“Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy are well; they are both in London, waiting for him to get well.”
“And you, brother dear, do you not think that the time has come to spend more time with us?” Caroline asked in a last attempt to have their brother at their disposal and discover all the details that he still kept to himself.
“My dear Caroline, I will sleep at home tonight, but Darcy still needs me. Most surely you will see me frequently in the next days, but now, I must excuse myself from this enjoyable company as I am invited to the dinner to celebrate his return.”
***
The happy news delivered by Bingley fell like thunder in the Hursts’ house; for all the hopes for a change in Mr Darcy’s life that they had entertained in the last days were completely shattered. That Bennet woman was at his side, making sure he would not escape again!
Their next evening dinner was not as animated as it had been in the last days. Only Mr Hurst seemed in a splendid mood.
“My ladies,” he said, “tomorrow I intend to pay my respects to Mr Darcy. You may accompany me if you want, as I wish to congratulate him on his safe return!”
But neither his wife nor her sister was eager to express a joy they did not feel. They had hoped that Darcy’s marriage to Elizabeth would not take place, after all. And, in her inner self, Caroline still believed Darcy would turn to her after abandoning Elizabeth. Being the mistress of Pemberley had been her and her sister’s dream for a long while.
At dinner, only two of their friends were present; unfortunately, their house was no longer a centre of interest as it had been in the last days when London hoped that, through their brother, the Bingley sisters would have first-hand news.
“It seems,” their guest said, “they arrived in London yesterday at noon and Mr Darcy had already applied for a special license. It appears they intend to marry soon, right here in London.”
Caroline glared at her friend with a displeased look; she seemed already to know so much more than they did. Charles provided them so few explanations that they had no subject to discuss.
“But why marry in such haste?” Caroline asked.
“Maybe the young lady has a motive to hurry…” her sister answered with the disdainful tone she used every time they were talking about Elizabeth Bennet.
It was not said in plain words but they found it possible she had some sort of motive that would, eventually, show in a few months.
“Yes, it is possible for a country girl like her to find other means to trap a man of Mr Darcy’s consequence in a most advantageous marriage.”
“Fortunately for her Mr Darcy seems determined to marry her,” their friend said, in a benevolent tone. She was a pleasant young woman who enjoyed the gossip but was prepared to like Mr Darcy’s wife, as she knew that Mr Darcy’s influence in London was much more significant than the Hursts’.
Chapter 1
Darcy was alone in his rooms in London. He tried to sleep, but he was not tired. He started to write a letter to Lady Edwina, his godmother, but the words just did not form on the paper. He wished to be alone, and yet he yearned for Elizabeth.
He stayed on the balcony for some time, enjoying the sunset despite the coldness. His butler put a heavy blanket on his shoulders. The mere gesture brought back recollections from a childhood illness at Pemberley, when his father used to wrap him in such a blanket, and they stayed together on the balcony, promising he would take Darcy hunting as soon as he recovered. It was a happy time; his father was young, healthy and full of life, and Darcy liked nothing more than to be in his company and learn from him at every opportunity.
He searched for his father’s image deep in his soul with a plea for help. His father did not appear to be an emotional person, he might even seem distant or harsh, but James Darcy knew how to solve any situation.
Following that illness, for some time, the young master Darcy feared falling ill again; therefore, he avoided cold water, opened windows, or walking in the rain. He dressed excessively and drank all sorts of tisanes Mrs Reynolds prepared for him. Then one evening his father came into his room, just before bedtime. It was an unusual visit, and Darcy watched his father sitting on the edge of the bed and saying: “This evening we will forget your illness entirely. We will put all the memories in a drawer, shut it with the key and we will throw away the key together.” It seemed a magic trick but it worked, and from the next day young Darcy returned to being the courageous boy he had ever been. The memory of their throwing the key out the window had followed Darcy for many years in the most difficult moments that tormented him after his father’s passing away.
Only a few days ago he was at Netherfield with a single major focus in his life: to see Elizabeth as often as he could; he adored the days when they were together and dreaded the nights that separated them. She had finally agreed to be his wife and in her eyes, he could see all the promises a woman could make to a man.
Around Elizabeth, he was no longer the master of his thoughts or of his senses. Bingley called it love, making jest of him, “Darcy, you were never in love before, and now you discover this feeling at its highest level. Do not worry; you will survive.”
Darcy had been happy and full of expectation for his life and marriage till that unfortunate decision he took, more than a week ago, to go to London. He made an effort not to remember, struggling to recover the happy state of mind he had recently lost.
The cold helped; alone, on his balcony, he decided to find a drawer and put the last week in there; then, with his father’s image in mind, to throw away the key. And, indeed, he used the magic of his childhood and his father’s figure to regain his peace.
***
It was the first dinner in London, since Darcy’s return.
Around the table were people dear to him, celebrating his presence. He looked around with affection and gratitude. First of all, was Elizabeth, who proved to be the woman he always imagined her to be: wise, courageous and ready to protect her love; then Georgiana, the young sister who had grown into a beautiful lady he could no longer regard as a child; then his future father in law and his friend Bingley. He observed with a friendly smile the young Acton; a fine young gentleman he was, capable of hard work and sacrifices, as Elizabeth depicted him.
They hardly spoke, hiding their fatigue under the interest for the meal that looked, indeed, more like a feast than a family dinner. Darcy was back, their efforts to find him had been successful, and, in a silent decision, they all agreed the unfortunate happening had to be forgotten forever.
Mr Bennet excused himself just before the syllabub; although it was his favourite dessert; he was too tired to enjoy it. Elizabeth watched her father with an intense and worried gaze, for the first time in her life seeing him as an old and tired man. Her heart ached as she realised that in the fever of her wedding’s preparations, she had not given much thought to her parents, mostly to Mr Bennet. Her departure for Pemberley was not a visit that would, eventually, end; it was her new life, far away from her parents and sisters and Meryton friends. Besides her incredible happiness, she would undoubtedly miss everybody, but especially her father. It was a strange discovery that overshadowed the joy of her bright future.
