Page 47 of Leave Her Wild
“What detail do I not yet know? I do not relish the idea of being surprised by the likes of George Wickham when I call upon Middlesex.”
“Mr. Wickham’s lieutenancy arrived at the hands of Mr. Bennet and the Bennets’ uncle, Mr. Gardiner. After that matter with Georgiana, Mr. Wickham first joined the militia stationed in Meryton, where the Bennets live. According to the reports, he attempted to seduce a young lady who had inherited ten thousand pounds, but when that fell through, he turned his attention upon the youngest of Mr. Bennet’s daughters, Miss Lydia, who I have not met, but understand is quite bold and not of the same caliber as her sisters. I would suspect the girl is cut from the same cloth as her mother, who does not possess the same mental capacity and, perhaps, moral quality, as does Mr. Bennet. Since taking the gentleman’s acquaintance, I now understand why he does not come often to London.”
“What happens to ‘Mrs. Wickham’ if her husband is transported or hanged?” Matlock asked the obvious.
“I plan to ‘suggest’ that the girl go to live in Scotland for however long it takes to claim a Scottish divorce. She assuredly cannot go through life with George Wickham’s name. That is tosay, if she is not so foolish as to follow Mr. Wickham to Australia. Of course, if he is hanged, then a divorce is not necessary, but she should be made to live elsewhere.”
“I will learn what I might and keep you informed,” his uncle assured.
“Now, what is this business with Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley?” the earl asked with a lift of his brows.
Darcy glanced at the still open door in anticipation of Elizabeth’s return, but it and the passage remained empty. “I followed the advice of all around me and pursued Miss Jane Bennet, who I was late in learning meant to save all her sisters by marrying me.”
“Makes sense now,” his uncle remarked.
“I reasoned it would have been a good match as her family required a dose of respectability, thanks to Mr. Wickham’s deception, and I required a bride to stifle Bertram Darcy’s aspirations. However, . . .”
“However?” his uncle asked, leaning closer in expectation of necessary secrecy.
“The woman is beautiful as you likely noted when you called today, but I would soon be slitting my wrists if I had to bed her regularly,” Darcy confessed in soft tones.
“Then you have released her?” his uncle said with a frown. “What of Bertram’s claim?”
Darcy smiled easily. “Only this morning I have asked Mr. Bennet’s second daughter to be my wife, and she has accepted.”
“Are you assured, Darcy? If you must settle, I know of several young ladies from good families . . .”
Darcy raised his hand to prevent his uncle’s offer. “Ironically, I have known Miss Elizabeth since exiting my mourning for my father, and even Fitzwilliam has admitted, if not for her small portion, he would propose to her himself, for she holds a grasp of both the perils and the pleasures of thelanded gentry and the aristocracy that my father found in your sister and you have found in your countess.”
“I have not heard you speak so fondly of someone in a long time,” the earl observed.
A soft knock brought the return of the object of his affection. “Uncle,” Darcy said as the earl rose to his feet, “it is with great pleasure I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet, soon to be your new niece. Elizabeth, my uncle, the Earl of Matlock.”
The earl bowed and his Elizabeth curtsied. Matlock reached a hand to her and Elizabeth accepted it, though tentatively. “Welcome to the family, Miss Elizabeth. Now, what can you tell me of the wedding plans? My countess will wish all theon dits.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Mr. Darcy should be upright before the wedding, do you not think, my lord? The bullet went through him, and the exit wound nearly claimed his life.”
“Miss Elizabeth took over my care,” Darcy explained with a smile. “She single-handedly willed me back to health. It was at Elizabeth’s insistence that the local surgeon realized there was an infection around the wound in my back and it had spread. The army’s surgeon only called upon me once before he returned to his duties elsewhere. If not for her stubborn oversight, I could have died,” Darcy explained.
Tears came to Elizabeth’s eyes, and Darcy knew immediately that he had made the correct choice. “You will notice, my lord, how Miss Elizabeth is very much of the nature of Lady Matlock. My betrothed is fully in control when danger is near, only to display her true and softer self later. She has the same heart of gold as does her ladyship.”
“You realize, my dear,” the earl said, “life with Darcy will not always be comfortable, though you will have the best of everything.”
“I shall have all I require as Mr. Darcy’s wife—never a day exactly like the previous one—a husband who will protect our family—and, of course, your nephew’s promise of a home library like none other in England.”
Darcy barked a laugh. “She is a reader, Uncle.”
“I should have known,” Matlock declared as he enveloped Elizabeth in his arms in a true gesture of affection.
Chapter Eighteen
“Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy!”
Darcy looked up quickly at the sound of his name. He had been in the fields since before dawn, assisting with the plowing and harrowing and the adding of sulfur to the soil, for this area would be left fallow next growing season to permit it time to recover from three years of use. He had long used a four-crop rotation on Pemberley, something he had learned from his Fitzwilliam relatives in Scotland. This morning, at Elizabeth’s insistence, he had left Pemberley in her very capable hands for the day, for she was not due to deliver their first child for another month, and she termed him “too protective” when he was home and “under foot.”
They had married two weeks after that call upon Darcy’s House by his Uncle Matlock. Things moved quite speedily once his uncle placed the power of the earldom behind the matters. Bingley and Miss Bennet had married shortly after Lady Day, once Bingley was settled in at Netherfield Park and taxes were addressed, and Bingley had come to know all his neighbors.
Mr. Ericks called on Miss Mary for the Bingley wedding and had made his own proposal, and Lambton’s clergyman and Miss Mary Bennet were married shortly after Christmastide.
