Simply Beautiful, page 2
Had the gentleman been looking in young Darcy’s direction, he would have detected a slight roll of the young man’s eyes. Elizabeth certainly noticed it. Not that she could find fault in Fitzwilliam’s behavior. Who better than he understood the lasting impact of Elizabeth’s upbringing, plagued by doubts about her father’s love for her?
The elder Mr. Darcy rose from his seat, breaking the tension in the air. “Now that you are here, my friend, we shall have ample opportunity to get reacquainted, I am sure. But, for now, what say we adjourn to the dining room?”
After the conclusion of dinner, the gentlemen remained seated around the table, enveloped in the lingering aroma of tobacco, port, and the delicious scents of the meal. The room was filled with a comfortable, almost languid atmosphere. Once their threadbare conversation had run its course, Mr. Bennet and his longtime friend delved into a discussion about his plans for the visit.
“I always intended to bring my daughter to live with me at Longbourn. It is time for me to fulfill that promise.”
Mr. Darcy nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting a depth of empathy. “Of course,” he said. “No one can fault you for wanting to do what you think is best for your daughter. My wife and I always knew it was a strong possibility that this day would come. Although I dare not speak for Lady Anne, for my part, as much as I will miss Elizabeth being here at Pemberley, I know she should spend time with you getting to know her true roots and the rest of her relatives. She has been a vital part of our family, and her absence will undoubtedly be felt.”
“And you cannot know how much it means to me to have an ally in you. I suspect that not everyone here feels that way, my Lizzy included.”
Mr. Bennet took a long puff of his cigar, the fragrant smoke curling around his features as he exhaled. He observed keenly that his plans did not garner the same approval from the son as they did from the father. Recalling the young man’s conduct toward Elizabeth earlier in the drawing room and his attentive demeanor during dinner, Mr. Bennet could not help but ponder the true nature of their relationship. Moreover, he could not help but worry. True, he had left his daughter behind to be reared by the Darcys. Still, he knew his friend’s ilk, especially Lady Anne Darcy’s, and their expectations for their only son—Pemberley’s heir. The last thing he wanted was for his daughter to suffer unreasonable expectations and disappointed hopes.
“I must confess her reaction upon seeing me is not exactly what I had hoped for.”
“Are you referring to her fainting spell?” asked the elder Mr. Darcy.
“Yes, precisely. My arrival undoubtedly came as a shock to my daughter. I cannot say it was the initial response I had envisioned,” Mr. Bennet replied, shifting his eyes in Fitzwilliam’s direction. He added, “However, it was far better than the alternative, I suppose.”
“The alternative, you say?”
Bennet nodded. “Indeed, my daughter could just as well have fled the room in disgust after coming face-to-face with the man who had left her when she was a child.”
“I assure you, my friend, your daughter is much too generous to condemn you for what happened in the past. We have done everything we could to assure Elizabeth of your love for her and to help her understand the situation. You believed you were doing what was best for her, being a single man with no family, to help raise her in a manner befitting a gentleman’s daughter,” said the elder Mr. Darcy.
Having observed his daughter throughout the evening, a mixture of pride and remorse washed over Mr. Bennet. “Seeing her tonight, a part of me has no regrets in that regard, for my Lizzy appears to be quite the accomplished young woman. However, I regret that I cannot boast of having any part in bringing that about. Indeed, that is my biggest regret in all of life.”
“The material point is that you are here now,” said his friend, emphasizing the importance of the present moment.
Bennet nodded. “Indeed, and I am resolved to do everything within my power to make amends for not being a part of my daughter’s life for the past ten years.”
Fitzwilliam cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, Father,” he began. “I am sure you agree it will be better to allow Elizabeth sufficient time to accustom herself to these unfolding developments before broaching the subject of her leaving Pemberley. This has been her home for the past decade. Leaving here ought to be her decision and hers alone.”
Once the three gentlemen had concluded their indulgence in port and cigars, they made their way back to the elegant drawing room. Mr. Bennet, seizing an opportunity, persuaded Elizabeth to grace the company with a performance on the pianoforte. She found solace in this arrangement, for it allowed her to sit beside Fitzwilliam as he turned the pages, knowing that he would remain close by her side for the rest of the evening and thus preventing the opportunity for her to engage in awkward conversation with their guest, most of her memories of whom had long since faded away. She had always relied upon Fitzwilliam during uncomfortable times. Never had she felt more uncomfortable than she did at that moment with a father whom she did not know.
Elizabeth supposed that her relationship with her father would change during his visit. If she were to admit it, she was curious and intrigued to spend time with a man she had wondered about for years. Questions swirled within her—how could he have left her, how had he spent all those years, and would she ever truly know him? The thoughts of the mother and sister she had lost also lingered, but the absence of her father’s presence plagued her the most. Why had he abandoned his paternal role, leaving her in the care of strangers? Did the sight of her remind him too much of the wife and child he had tragically lost? It pained her to entertain such thoughts, but they had become her constant companions, lingering like specters in her mind since childhood.
Elizabeth’s mind was so busy with wonder and speculations that she could feel the beginning of a headache. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when the evening finally drew to a close and everyone adjourned to their respective quarters. Even if Fitzwilliam’s apartment were not a short distance down the corridor from hers, she knew he would accompany her to her door. She was on the verge of turning her doorknob when Fitzwilliam covered her hand with his.
“I am here for you if you want to discuss all of this.”
Elizabeth appreciated his support more than words could express. “I am grateful for that, Fitzwilliam, truly. But not tonight. I am rather weary. This evening has stirred up so many sentiments within me, and I need time to sort them out on my own.”
“I understand. Pray, do not spend all night wrestling with your thoughts.” He drew her into his arms for a comforting embrace. “Send for me if you need me. I will meet you in the library.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, leaning against Fitzwilliam’s broad chest as he enveloped her in his arms. She felt the warmth of his body against hers, his arms providing a sense of security. The familiarity of his masculine scent brought her a measure of comfort, and the rhythmic beat of his heart against her ear soothed her troubled mind. At that moment, she felt safe and at peace—the calmest she had been throughout the entire evening.
“I will try not to disturb you,” she said softly. “Tomorrow promises to be a long day. We both need our rest.”
Fitzwilliam released her from his embrace but gently cupped her cheek, tilting her face to meet his gaze. “If I know you at all, you will surely rise before the break of dawn and embark on one of your solitary rambles.” He paused, a tender smile tugging at his lips. “What if I were to accompany you?”
“I would like that very much indeed.” Elizabeth’s ensuing smile was the sincerest one that had crossed her face all evening. All her other smiles, it seemed, had been bestowed out of duty and obligation.
Fitzwilliam returned her smile, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Then it is settled. I shall meet you just before dawn. I will prepare our horses to ride to the Pointe if it meets with your approval. It has been too long since we watched the sunrise together.”
Chapter 3 - Apprehension
Lady Anne lay in the opulent bed, her eyes fixed upon the rich red velvet canopy overhead. Its golden trim caught the flickering candlelight, casting a delicate glow throughout the room. Yet, despite the serene setting, her mind churned with apprehension.
Troubling thoughts and worries consumed her. She could not shake the unease that had settled in her stomach since Elizabeth’s father had arrived at Pemberley. She had done her best to put on a brave face throughout the evening, but now that she and her husband were alone, she could not help but let her guard down.
“What are your thoughts on the evening, my dear?” Lady Anne inquired, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
“I suppose it went as well as one could expect, given the circumstances,” replied her husband.
“I suppose that is one way of looking at the events of the evening,” she said, her gaze distant. “As good as could be expected, indeed.”
Unsettling memories flooded her mind. Lady Anne recalled when she and her husband gave Elizabeth a miniature of her father’s likeness. It was the first time that he had, in effect, let young Elizabeth down. Thomas Bennet had promised to visit Elizabeth on her tenth birthday, which would have been his first visit in two years. He had even written the child a letter announcing his intentions.
Except when the day of his arrival came, he was nowhere to be found. The only evidence of his existence was the arrival of his likeness with a hastily scribbled missive offering an excuse. Knowing how Bennet was living his life in Hertfordshire, Lady Anne half suspected he had not been the one to pen the letter.
Poor little Elizabeth’s heart was broken. That would be the last time his neglect caused the child to suffer if Lady Anne had her way.
Letters from him were so few and far between that Lady Anne insisted by way of her husband that Mr. Bennet not even bother to write at all, for even something as innocuous as a missive was enough to alter Elizabeth’s spirits for weeks, elevating her hopes that her father might come for a visit. Teaching the young child to hope and then to despair and agonize repeatedly was too much for anyone to bear, especially a child. Lady Anne would countenance it no more.
But now he had finally come, and she could not help but worry about what it meant.
The prospect that he meant to remove Elizabeth from Pemberley struck a disheartened chord in her. Lady Anne had made it the business of her life to see Elizabeth was well taken care of and had a bright future ahead of her, hence the supplementing of Elizabeth’s dowry and her presentation at court.
Were Elizabeth to be removed from her care now, Lady Anne did not know what would become of Elizabeth’s prospect for future felicity in marriage. From what she suspected of the limited society afforded in the rather small confines of Meryton in Hertfordshire, she could not imagine there would be anyone worthy of a young lady like Elizabeth.
Perhaps I am worrying too much, Lady Anne considered. There is no reason why Elizabeth might not make an excellent match, perhaps to a gentleman beyond her sphere. Maybe even a gentleman as honorable and decent as her son.
So long as it is not my son, she silently concluded before she blew out the candle by her bedside table and prepared for a good night’s rest.
Except sleep did not come. There was too much to sort through as thoughts she had tucked into the back of her mind came to the fore, specifically the conversation she and her husband had shared about Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam some time ago.
“Mr. Darcy, I dare say it is not my imagination the manner in which our Elizabeth’s spirits rise and fall with the timing of our son’s arrival and departure from Pemberley of late.”
“What are you suggesting, my dear?” asked Mr. Darcy without looking up from his morning paper.
“I am not suggesting anything but rather stating a fact. I fear Elizabeth’s feelings for Fitzwilliam may lead to heartbreak on her part.”
“Are you not persuaded that every single young lady in the land has an eye for Fitzwilliam?”
“I will not refute your assertion, but I am not referring to every young lady in this case. I am referring to Elizabeth. It is incumbent on us to protect her from needless pain, is it not?”
“What do you suggest we ought to do? Shall we ban Fitzwilliam from returning to Pemberley until he becomes officially engaged?”
“Of course I am not suggesting anything as extreme as that. But surely we ought to be thinking of both of their futures with more consideration. Fitzwilliam ought to have a tour of the continent soon, which will put some distance between them.”
“With war raging on the continent, I do not see how it is possible.”
“Well, there is that, but a young man of his age must travel and see various parts of the world before he is expected to settle down. My father and brother did, and I shall expect no less for my son. As for Elizabeth, I believe the time has come for her presentation at court. Once that is accomplished, she will be thrown in the path of many fine gentlemen, perhaps even a wealthy one at that, were we to augment her dowry.”
“Presentation at court, you say. Are you certain that is something Elizabeth will go along with?”
“I do not see why she would not. It is what every young lady aspires to, is it not?”
“Every young lady in a position to enjoy such lofty aspirations, I suppose.”
“And is Elizabeth any different from every such young lady? Besides, her presentation at court is a matter she and I have discussed many times. She knows how much I am looking forward to such a prospect.”
“Well, you seem to have given this matter a great deal of thought, my dear.”
“And why would I not? Is that not what someone of my stature does? Had our own daughter lived, I would surely have presented her at court at the proper time, and as Elizabeth is much like a daughter to me, I shall do no less than my duty toward her.”
Further reflecting on the past, Lady Anne reminisced about Elizabeth’s childhood, when taming her spirited nature resembled a formidable challenge. Even at a young age, Elizabeth possessed qualities that defined her as intelligent, inquisitive, and fiercely independent. Her inclination to indulge in long, solitary rambles exemplified her individuality. While Elizabeth prided herself on being an excellent walker, Mrs. Eastman, her paid companion, struggled to keep up. Lady Anne could not dissuade Elizabeth from embarking on pre-dawn excursions, but once daylight arrived, expectations changed. It was crucial to Lady Anne that Elizabeth conformed to the societal norms befitting her position as the ward of Pemberley’s master and mistress.
Balancing Elizabeth’s personality with society’s expectations had been a constant struggle. Still, Lady Anne had persisted, ensuring Elizabeth received proper education and instruction from the best masters, allowing her to develop proficiency in drawing, painting screens, and showcasing her talent on the pianoforte. Her equestrian skills flourished under excellent guidance, despite Fitzwilliam introducing her to pony riding before she even turned ten. Such experiences fostered a close bond between the two youngest members of the Pemberley household, which remained unshakable despite the four-year age difference.
Lost in contemplation, Lady Anne gradually succumbed to slumber. The upcoming days held a weighty load of thoughts and preparations, requiring her to proceed with the utmost caution and strategic calculation. Elizabeth’s destiny hung in the balance. Lady Anne vowed to exhaust every effort to secure it, pursuing a suitable union for Elizabeth—one where she would be cherished and adored in a manner befitting her worth. Simultaneously, her ladyship remained resolute in safeguarding her son’s future, tolerating no interference with her well-laid plans. Truly, a delicate affair indeed.
Chapter 4 - Confusion
The next morning, Elizabeth found herself awake before the break of dawn. She had tossed and turned all night, her mind unable to shake off the overwhelming emotions that had been stirred up by her father’s sudden arrival. She had suffered a mix of joy, anger, and confusion, leaving her feeling drained and exhausted. A keen sense of urgency overcame her as she dressed in her riding outfit, for spending time alone with Fitzwilliam always enlivened her.
When she met him in the stable yard, he greeted her with a look of anticipation. “Good morning, Elizabeth. You look lovely this morning.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” she replied, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach at the sight of him. It was not just his warm smile or impeccable riding outfit that made her heart skip a beat; it was how he always made her feel safe and protected whenever they rode out together. As they walked toward their horses, Elizabeth could not help but notice how his eyes lingered on her longer than usual.
As they prepared to ride out, Fitzwilliam approached Elizabeth’s horse and held out a hand to help her mount. Once she was safe atop her horse, Fitzwilliam mounted his own, and they set off at a steady pace. Fitzwilliam kept a watchful eye on Elizabeth as they rode, even more protective than usual. Elizabeth could not help but feel comforted by his attentiveness.
The first rays of the rising sun painted the countryside in hues of gold as Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam rode toward the Pointe, their horses trotting at a leisurely pace. The gentle rhythm of their horses’ hooves supplied a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Elizabeth opened up to her riding companion, telling him about her mixed emotions regarding her father’s sudden arrival.
“It is just so peculiar, Fitzwilliam,” she said, her voice betraying her confusion. “After all these years, he just shows up at Pemberley, expecting me to welcome him with open arms.”
Fitzwilliam nodded sympathetically. “I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you, Elizabeth. Perhaps this is a chance for you to get to know him, to understand why he left.”
