Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

T hat night was the last dinner with Mr. George Darcy. The summer storm that came through late Saturday night and lasted into Sunday morning prevented the party at Pemberley from attending church. Miss Bingley was seriously displeased by her stay at the grand estate and left with her brother the following day. She expected a far greater welcome than what she had endured, having believed she could use her brother’s welcome to engender her own. She did not seem to understand that her actions would make others view her as grasping and impolite so she was unable to account for how they treated her or why her brother was angry.

The elder Mr. Darcy suffered from a summer cold, caused by the dampness of the storm on the Sabbath. When he did not stir from his bed after two days, the apothecary was summoned from Lambton. His son was saddened to hear the dampness appeared to have settled into his father’s lungs, more so when he began to worsen quickly. Within a fortnight of his first acquiring the cold, the elder Mr. Darcy passed from this earth, rejoining his wife for whom he had pined since her own death eight years previously .

However little he liked it, Mr. Gardiner found it necessary to leave Pemberley to return to London only a few days after his friend became ill. He had spoken to both Darcy men and explained the circumstances, during which the elder Darcy asked the tradesman to help his son as he made the transition to master.

“Fitzwilliam is well prepared for the task of managing Pemberley, however little he may believe it himself. In truth, he has been the one making decisions for Pemberley for the last several years, despite his being in school. I have only assisted though my son believes it to have been the opposite. He has proven to be a good judge of character, and I was a fool for not believing him about George Wickham sooner than I did. I am sorry he nearly injured your niece, but I am glad that his actions brought my family together with yours,” the elder Darcy said, his words slow as he attempted to say to his friend what desperately needed to be said.

He turned his eyes toward his son, who was sitting on the other side of him. “Fitzwilliam, you are a good man, and you will do well. You saw through George Wickham when I did not. My own opinions of him were coloured by the belief that he was more like his father than he turned out to be. After … after your mother died, it was simply easier to be with George than it was to be with you. You … you reminded me so much of you mother, and I was lost with out her. Young George was lively and jovial where you were serious. I know you were affected by the loss of your mother just as much as I, but it was difficult. Regardless of the reason, I should have tried harder to be the father you needed and should have trusted your word. Forgive me,” he pleaded.

“Of course, Father,” young Darcy replied.

“After I am gone, you must lean on Mr. Gardiner and your uncle, allowing them to advise you. Be cautious of those who would use you; your friend Bingley is a good man, but I fear the influence of his sister and what it may do to him. I have told you before that I think Miss Gardiner is well suited to you; despite her youth, I think she will make you an ideal wife in a few years.”

When Gardiner made a small noise in surprise, the dying man stopped to look at his friend. “You and I have spoken of the matter, Gardiner. Elizabeth is just fifteen at present but is far older in spirit than her years indicate. I am not suggesting that the two of them wed at this moment, but in two or three years, when they are older and if they both wish it, I believe they would do well together. Since I know how the ton can be, I have left your niece a legacy of fifteen thousand pounds. Use the interest from the funds to provide for her education and other necessities as she grows older. I have asked my sister, Lady Matlock, to sponsor her when it is time for her to debut in society, and if she cannot help you, she will find someone who can. I am uncertain whether she will be able to be presented, though if she becomes Mrs. Darcy as I hope, she would be presented then. Regardless, the Matlocks will support my son’s decision to wed her, should he one day decide to do so.”

“Mr. Darcy, this is too much: both the legacy and the suggestion of my niece marrying your son. They are not of the same status; surely you do not expect Fitzwilliam to agree to this,” Gardiner protested.

“Mr. Gardiner, my father and I have spoken of this before. Your niece is a gentleman’s daughter; therefore, I would not be marrying below my station. With the legacy from my father, which is a surprise to me, she will be the equal of many in society, certainly the superior to a woman such as Miss Bingley. I consider Miss Elizabeth a friend, and while she and I are too young to truly consider marriage at this time, I am not averse to the match should she prove amenable at a more appropriate time. I question my father’s certainty that she is the ideal bride for me, but I believe she needs time to grow up before either of us are asked to decide.”

Gardiner nodded, unsure how to react for a few moments. As he sat there contemplating the matter, a slow grin began to break out across his face. “Actually, I can easily imagine my niece wed to you, Fitzwilliam. She has a knack for encouraging you to be livelier than you might otherwise, and she is constantly challenging you. Without her in your life, you would be set upon by ladies who would agree with everything you say, whereas Elizabeth would argue with you for the mere joy of it.”

All three gentlemen laughed at this thought. “Elizabeth certainly has no qualms about arguing with me and has been known to argue a different standpoint just to extend a debate. Were she allowed to go to Cambridge, she would drive the professors there mad with her questioning and arguing, likely even trounce many of them out of sheer stubbornness. As her husband, I fear I would never win an argument ever again,” Darcy barked out after a few minutes. The slight smile on his face as he said this surprised Gardiner although it did not surprise Darcy’s father. He had seen the look that occasionally passed over his son’s face when he spoke to or about Elizabeth Gardiner and knew the two would someday fall in love. In his opinion, the basis of a good relationship was already there, yet neither were presently aware of it.

When Mr. Gardiner departed a few days after this conversation, he left his wife and children at Pemberley to support Darcy’s children during the inevitable loss of their father. The Matlocks arrived a few days later, but by that time, George Darcy was already insensible. Lady Matlock and Mrs. Gardiner did everything they could to assist Georgiana, working together to help Mrs. Reynolds prepare the house for mourning.

Lord Matlock worked with Fitzwilliam Darcy to ensure all was ready for the transition of power. In truth, there was little to be done, but his uncle merely confirmed that what he was doing was right and threw his weight as an Earl behind his nephew when required. The Darcy family was well respected in Derbyshire, so this was not truly necessary, but it gave young Darcy the boost he needed to get through these days.

However, Elizabeth’s companionship aided Darcy the most through this difficult time. The couple still rode out each morning, their rides getting longer the worse the gentleman’s father grew. Elizabeth was sitting with both Darcy men, holding the son’s hand when the elder Mr. Darcy finally passed from this world, and she remained with him until his father’s valet finally came to begin preparing the body for burial. Since it was summer, the burial would occur quickly. Notices were sent to the newspapers in London, as well as to all those in Darcy’s family who had not already been informed.

Lord and Lady Matlock assisted as much as possible, and Lord Matlock himself wrote and sent the letter to his sister informing her of their brother’s death, much to Darcy’s relief.

Catherine,

To my great sorrow, I write to let you know that George Darcy has died. I know that both George and Fitzwilliam have written to you about his poor health over the last year, so this should come of little surprise. We are all saddened by the loss.

As I am in close proximity to Pemberley, I am already here assisting our nephew with the arrangements. By the time you receive this letter, George will have already been laid to rest, as it is not prudent to wait for your arrival for his burial. I also want to assure you that there is no need for you to come to Pemberley. I will ensure that all of George’s final wishes are carried out, and if he left anything for you or your daughter, I will see that you receive it. Additionally, I want to remind you that George stated repeatedly that his son and your daughter are not engaged, so do not presume that his death has changed that situation.

Do not journey to Pemberley at this time. When you are needed, you will receive an invitation, but as Pemberley is now in mourning, Darcy does not wish for additional guests. He will travel to London in the spring to take care of any necessary business then; I will join him on his annual visit Rosings at Easter. Georgiana is well, having been left to the guardianship of Fitzwilliam and my Richard. The two have always been good friends, almost as close as brothers, and I do not question George’s wisdom in leaving his daughter to the two men who love her most.

Sincerely,

Reginald Fitzwilliam

Earl of Matlock

Darcy smiled when he read the letter by his uncle, only nodding before refolding it and handing it back to his uncle. “Do you think she will obey your demand that she remain where she is?” he asked.

Lord Matlock scoffed. “It is doubtful. I will remain a sennight further, and then Lady Matlock and I will return to our home on the following Monday. That way, if she arrives as I expect, we will be here. Regardless, if she arrives after, we will be less than half a day’s journey away since we will not return to London until October. How much longer will Mrs. Gardiner and her children remain?”

“Part of me wishes they could remain through the winter. The house is livelier with the children in it. I appreciate what you and my aunt are doing, but Georgiana is very grateful for the company of a friend during this time. Elizabeth has been an excellent friend to her.”

Lord Matlock examined his nephew for several minutes without speaking. Darcy held his eye and did not so much as flinch. “She is a good friend to you as well,” he said finally.

“She is,” was all Darcy would say in reply.

“Your father left me a letter and mentioned her in it,” he sallied again.

“I know.”

“Then you also know that your father wished my wife to sponsor Miss Gardiner in society when she makes her debut. She has a dowry of fifteen thousand pounds left to her by your father, and he is very much interested in advancing the match between you and Miss Gardiner in a few years,” Lord Matlock stated.

“I am aware of it. My father discussed the matter with me on at least two separate occasions and shortly before Mr. Gardiner left for London, spoke of the matter with him. We are not engaged at this moment, nor have we promised to be so in the future. I have promised to consider her when she is old enough though if I fall in love with another or either of us decides we do not suit, we are not bound to the other.”

Lord Matlock frowned. “No contracts have been signed?” he asked again.

“No.”

“You must extricate yourself from this family then. Send them back to London; give Miss Gardiner the money your father left her if you must but have nothing else to do with them.”

“No,” Darcy stated, more firmly this time. “Elizabeth is a good friend to both my sister and me. I have little wish to forsake her friendship, nor that of the Gardiners for that matter. They have asked for nothing, demanded nothing. My father trusted them and even spoke to Mr. Gardiner of his wish that I offer for his niece one day. He could have demanded a formal contract be signed immediately—he could have asked for many things,—but attempted to persuade my father that the match was unwise. However, my father argued against all of his objections, insisting that he at least consider the idea before rejecting it out of hand.”

The earl watched his nephew for several moments. “She is young—too young for you to have already decided in her favour. ”

“I have not decided. At present, she is a friend. I feel comfortable speaking with her, and she has been an enormous support over the last months as we have dealt with Father’s illness. She is also a good friend to Georgiana and has been helping her through the grief. I am in mourning and will be for the next year. Elizabeth is only fifteen and has two or three more years before she will enter society. At that point, I will decide whether I wish to court her. She will write to Georgiana which will be our only contact for the next six months or until I return to London. You are worried about something that might or might not happen two years in the future. Should I decide to offer for her, she will accept me only if she loves me in return, and I will know she accepts me for who I am, not for what I have. If I am satisfied with that, and I am following my father’s wishes in the matter, how can you object, Uncle?”

Scowling, Lord Matlock agreed that his nephew had a point, however little he liked it.