Page 58 of Affectations of Candour

“I swear Elizabeth Bennet was born to be the torment of my life. Whatever I might have done to deserve such treatment I know not.”

Elizabeth could hardly repress her amusement. Stepping into the fray, she walked up to Miss Wright. “We have not been the good friends that I, upon first acquaintance, had hoped we might become, Miss Wright. However, I understand that you and your sisters are in much the same situation as my younger sisters and me, needing to wed and wed well, lest we become homeless and penniless. Fortunately, my elder sister is now engaged to marry, and I sincerely hope you, Miss Margaret, and Miss Althea will find suitable matches someday and be happy.”

It was immediately evident from her heightened complexion that Miss Wright was deeply mortified by her banishment from Strandsmere and that she had no intention of paying off any arrears of civility to Elizabeth. “With the Darcys now united against me—and you, so inexcusably artful with your bewitching powers and coquetry—it seems I have wasted six entire months of my life on the gentleman who was meant to be my salvation! Such is the deprivation I now shall suffer, thanks to you. But I shall take great pleasure in knowing that you will never have him. You, with no dowry. You, with your relations in trade. What would you bring to a marriage?”

With one hand behind his back, Mr Darcy stepped up to them. “Once again, Miss Wright, you are being unjust to the merit of another. More important than monetary assets, Miss Bennet would bring hope, promise, and colour to some fortunate gentleman’s life. You ask what she would bring to a marriage, so let me enlighten you further.”

Although Elizabeth noticed he did not look her way, Mr Darcy then spoke so eloquently of her supposed virtues—integrity, intelligence, and individuality—that she feared her face might combust. He said that she, unlike some others, spoke with candour, not affectation.

“Miss Bennet is unafraid to look a person in the eye,” he continued. “She listens and has the ability to understand and share another’s feelings. And there are few who can meet her in conversation, either rational or playful. More than anyone else I know, she deserves respect, admiration, and love. So, yes, some gentleman will be very fortunate, indeed, to have such a woman as his wife.”

“Nevertheless, Mr Darcy,” said the disappointed one, “I cannot help but fear that you have been drawn in by a lady to whom marriage would earn you the disapproval and scorn of friends and relations from one end of this country to the other.”

“Then that would be their loss, madam. And speaking of loss…” From behind his back he brought forth Miss Wright’s garnet necklace. “This was found earlier this morning in your brother’s chamber. The brother who is up to his neck in gaming debts. Our disgraced maid discovered it and redeemed herself by turning it in to Mrs Carter, although Molly and her brother needed the money it could have brought them. That is integrity.”

Miss Wright fastened the chain round her neck. “Thank you.”

“Let us part in civility, Miss Wright. I sincerely hope that you may avoid scandal. Fortunately, all this unpleasantness happened away from the eyes and ears of the ton. If your family can dig its way out of debt, you may be able to retain some of your reputation. Your brother’s trouble, however, is likely to have unfortunate and inescapable repercussions.” Arm in arm with his sister, Mr Darcy then went round to each member of the departing Wright family and wished them a safe journey.

So little was Miss Hughes disposed to part from them in good humour that Elizabeth had to take her in hand and make their rounds together. Miss Althea was then left alone with her family to say farewell in privacy. Finally everyone made their way to the front door.

Heads held high, the two Mr Wrights and the two eldest daughters descended the steps and entered their coach. Miss Althea alone shed tears as they all waved good-bye. Knowing the youngest sister was content to remain at Strandsmere with Miss Darcy, Elizabeth suspected she wept more from vexation with her disgraced family than from the sadness of parting. As for Elizabeth herself, she watched the Wrights go with a desire of never again setting eyes upon them.

When the carriage was out of sight, Miss Darcy linked arms with Miss Althea and Miss Hughes, and the three young ladies returned to the house.

Standing on the front steps with Elizabeth, Mr Darcy said, “How sincerely do I regret that Miss Hannah Wright ever entered this house, my life, and, most of all, yours. And how I regret that I shall be unable to enjoy your company on the morrow. Before breakfast, I shall leave for Bristol with Mr Baker. He is to see his attorney, and I…have business there. Which reminds me, I must gather all the watercolours that Georgiana and Miss Althea have done since coming here and have them framed. But before I go tomorrow, I wish to resolve something.” He then placed Elizabeth’s hand upon his arm and secured it there with his own while striding so swiftly to the garden that she almost had to run to keep up with him.

There, amongst the romantic background of laurels and yews, the sweetbriar roses and lavender, but behind shrubbery that concealed them from prying eyes, Mr Darcy stood before Elizabeth and tossed his hat upon a bench. “Earlier, at the clifftop, before Georgiana interrupted us,” he said while untying the ribbons beneath her chin, “I indicated that I wanted to speak of our future. Now, before going to the city”—he removed her bonnet and flung it atop his hat—“there is a certain matter that I wish to render formal. But first, tell me, what are your hopes and wishes for the future?”

“My hope and wish is that a certain gentleman might soon ask a certain question.”

He took both her hands in his. “Well then,” he whispered, his forehead touching hers, “please make me a promise, one that I can carry with me in my heart when I leave. Will you marry me, Elizabeth?”

That is not debatable! “Yes!”

No other words were needed or possible between them. Their lips were more agreeably engaged.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

For those at Strandsmere Park and Cliff House who had been ill-used by the Wrights (which, in Darcy’s estimation, was just about everyone at both places) a sense of general happiness prevailed upon the family’s departure. It seemed to him that the entire village of Wyman’s Cove and its coastal countryside heaved a collective sigh of relief once the back end of their carriage drew out of sight.

With every impediment to his scheme gone with Miss Wright, Darcy began in earnest to put his idea into effect. After a successful trip to Bristol, he and Mr Baker had returned in a coach laden with supplies. Those invited to the celebration—to take place in ten days—would come by boat, cart, carriage, horseback, or even Shanks’s pony. Some would travel a fair distance to attend.

Darcy’s plan, once conveyed to the residents of the village, created not only a stir but extra work and income for some of them. His original reason for hosting the event still held, and when he told the parishioners that it was in thanks for welcoming him, his sister, and his guests into their midst, he spoke the truth.

The domestics at Strandsmere had a great deal to do, but everyone carried out his or her task with enthusiasm. And so it was that on the morning of the celebration, Darcy, Georgiana, and Miss Althea moved about the villa amidst a hurry-scurry of activity and an air of expectation and enthusiasm.

“Are you certain, Georgiana?”

“For the hundredth time, yes, Brother. Miss Hughes thinks the occasion is because you are going to offer your proposal to Miss Bennet, and Miss Bennet believes we are to have a quiet little celebration for her friend’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Good, good. But I worry that neither of them might appreciate surprises, especially a particular one I have planned for Miss Bennet.”

“The first part of that plan was generosity itself, sir,” said Miss Althea. “The second part is rather, um… What would you call it, Miss Darcy?”

“Impetuous. Ill-considered. Hare-brained.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you, both.” Ye gods, what have I done?