“Five thousand pounds?” she repeated. That was two hundred and fifty a year, and her home would be provided for outside of that. “How do you have five thousand pounds in reserve to set aside for me?” Afather was expected to leave money for his daughter, not her future husband.
He smiled a little. “Because I am a single man with few expenses as far as pocket allowance, horses, clothing, and all the like. Because I reserve a large percentage of my income every year. And if the courts say I must give Georgiana half of the thirty thousand pounds, that leaves fifteen to invest to educate future younger sons and leave a decent fortune to daughters.”
He showed her a table of interest calculations and talked about time and growth, but she heard little. Unlike her father, Darcy set aside part of his income. He planned for her future care and his children’s maintenance even before they arrived. Her father had never encouraged his wife to economise, reserving nothing at all for his five daughters. Darcy’s generosity was astounding. Her heart beat fast and her throat closed.
“If I invest fifteen thousand pounds and never draw from it,” Darcy went on, “and it earns four per cent in the government bonds, by the time a daughter is twenty, there will be over thirty thousand pounds.”
A first son inherited Pemberley and younger sons would be set up in a career and given an allowance with some of that money, but the rest would be divided amongst however many daughters they had. No daughter of hers would enter a marriage with nothing, like she did.
Darcy shuffled more papers and drew out another. “I would not want you to use household money for your personal expenditures.”
She read, “‘Elizabeth Darcy shall receive two hundred per annum for pin money.’ How can you afford that?” It was twice what her father had spent on each of his daughters, including room and board and any other expenses.
He only smiled. The answer was surely the same as the answer to her last question. “You should also know that I will invest the interest off my mother’s settlement until the courts say what must be done with it. Until now, it had all been spent on Georgiana’s maintenance. Although, from what my lawyer says, Wickham would not have much of a case if he sues me. So, your jointure and pin money and anything left for children could increase.”
“Increase?” she repeated in a whisper. “Darcy, I do not need this much as it is.”
“You need spending money and provisions in case you outlive me, and for any children as well. The lawyers say it is unnecessary to put it on paper since you cannot sign it. A man cannot grant anything to his wife since we are, under the law, the same person. To enter into an agreement with you now, after you are married, would suppose you have a separate legal existence from mine. So it is not truly a settlement, but an elaborate will and a great deal of promises.”
Elizabeth dashed away a few tears. He wanted to be held accountable, not that he had reason not to be trusted.
“Why are you crying?” he asked when he looked up from neatly piling the papers.
Elizabeth looked at him, her vision a little blurry from the tears. A rush of appreciation came over her. She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek into his chest and holding him tight. He gave a gasp of surprise but did not step away. “Because you have chosen to take care of me.”
He held himself still before he carefully wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her in closer. “You need not thank me for doing what is right.”
“I do.” She could have been left entirely unprotected if she had fled London with a man who did not have Darcy’s integrity, or if she had married a man as indolent as her father. “I do not think you realise how generous and decent you are.”
“Taking care of my wife is not a virtue,” he insisted.
“Just let me thank you.”
In the silence that followed, she realised she was still hugging him. His hands were clasped around her lower back and her arms wound around his neck. She dared not lift her head to look into his eyes. He might look at her with warm regard, or with disgust at her emotional display. She was not brave enough to face the latter. She felt his breath on her hair and realised his mouth would be close to hers if she looked up.
What would it be like to kiss him?
“You are welcome,” he said roughly, “to that and anything else that will make you happy.”
He dropped his hands, and when he stepped away, she saw how flushed he was. Darcy probably had few people in his life to embrace him, and certainly fewer now that he was estranged from his sister. Her hug might have embarrassed him, and to save him any further mortification, she moved to leave.
“Where are you going?” he asked hurriedly.
Would he think she was fleeing him because she had hugged him? The entire morning was filled with awkwardness, but she still wanted to be near him. His company answered for her happiness far more than she had ever thought it could a few weeks ago.
“Just to write in my journal. I have been lax this week, since every day of meeting people was about the same.” Perhaps she also had less of a need since she was now speaking more with Darcy.
“Where do you write, since you do not have a room here like my father’s room at Pemberley?”
“Wherever there is a table and a quiet place. I have taken a liking to the small bedroom in the front of the house at this time of day.”
A forlorn look crossed his face. “That was always my sister’s room when she visited me.”
Why was she always settling into rooms that had been particular favourites of Darcy’s family? “Would you like me to avoid it?”
“No, not at all.” He seemed to mean it, but the mention of Georgiana and the reminder of how she had defied her family, and common sense, weighed on him. She felt for him and wished she knew what to do to comfort him. When she brought Georgiana home from Wickham, that would gladden him.
Thinking he must wish to be alone and drop the subject, she gave a sad smile to acknowledge his feelings and moved to the door.
