Page 16 of Pemberley's Imposter
Darcy had breakfasted with his sister in the private sitting room adjoining his chamber on their first morning and rode out with her after the meal. The spring weather had cooperated with their outdoor pursuits, and they had even visited Hunsford Parsonage voluntarily. It was fortunate indeed Mrs Collins had not been at home, as she was a friend of the Bennets. Mr Collins was a relation, but the obsequious toad had used his time with Darcy to make not-so-subtle suggestions about the honour of a more profitable living in Derbyshire. Darcy had answered with indifferent grunts. The experience was not repeated.
While his aunt badgered him for an annulment of his marriage, the colonel had been unusually quiet on the matter on the occasions where he did not manage to avoid his company. Not once had he addressed Darcy directly. The colonel was rightly embarrassed, proving him not to be devoid of every feeling.
Darcy hardly bothered to answer Lady Catherine’s rants. As reluctant as he was to drag his personal affairs through the London courts, he was also painfully aware he had no case. At least none that would lead to an annulment. He could have hauled his philandering cousin to court and sued him forengaging in acriminal conversation, but that would not benefit his sister on the marriage mart. Not that he was in a hurry to get rid of her—quite the contrary—but when the day came, he wanted her to wed someone worthy of her. Not a fortune-hunting rake but an outstanding member of society, preferably with a title to boot.
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Miss Georgiana Darcy could see the deep regret with which the colonel regarded her brother. Fitzwilliam did not notice, but she did. Perhaps Elizabeth had really been one of the alluring ladies who turned gentlemen into libertines and made them lose their reason. There were plenty of examples in the literary world. There were even some amongst London’s superior society.
Mayhap she had turned both their heads on purpose to tear them apart. Georgiana stifled a gasp that threatened to burst out. She directed a compassionate gaze towards her cousin, and he answered her with the ghost of a smile, which Darcy noticed. Her brother immediately ordered their belongings packed, and they left for town the next morning.
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July 1814
Georgiana’s second Season was going exceptionally well—the end was nearing without a serious suitor in sight. The gentlemen had been eager to engage her to dance at the balls, though not many dared to call the next day. No one had so far formed any serious designs on her. Soon, they would return to the sanctuary of Pemberley. Darcy silently wondered what they would do next, now that all the renovations were complete.
Only one more engagement remained before they could retreat, and it was an obligation he particularly dreaded—a dinner at Matlock House. One never knew whether it would bean intimate family meal or an elaborate affair with a hundred or more guests, and he could not decide which he feared the most.
It turned out to be an intimate family dinner. Unfortunately, the colonel was also present.
The Earl of Matlock wasted no time attacking him once the ladies left the table at the end of the meal.
“Georgiana must marry!”
“I am well aware of that, Lord Matlock.”
“Are you? You are postponing the unavoidable by scowling and frowning at every eligible bachelor who dares to approach your sister. That is not how you obtain a respectable suitor. Georgiana needs to marry. What will become of Pemberley if you let it fall into the hands of your profligate Darcy cousin? How long will it take him to destroy the work of generations—centuries, even?”
Darcy knew he was right. His only surviving Darcy relative was a cousin three times removed with a reputation that exceeded Mr Wickham’s tenfold.
“I know. It is to be hoped she will have more success next Season.”
“See to it that she does, Darcy. You must allow her to explore and become acquainted with the young men that strive for her attention. I shall speak plainly. Stop scowling at every bachelor not in their dotage! She cannot always be at Pemberley because you sent your wife away.”
Darcy turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam and glared at his cousin.
Lord Matlock misinterpreted the meaning behind his ferocity.
“Rest assured, Darcy, my son has not divulged your secrets to me. He is an honourable man, though I have long suspected that he knows the sordid details of your downfall.”
Darcy could not but appreciate the colonel’s tight lips, even though his silence was rooted in self-interest. He had no wish to be the cuckolded fool of the family, about which he had been firmly warned due to marrying so far beneath his station.
Somewhat dejected, he ventured home to Pemberley. Perhaps it was the last time he would have the comforting company of his sister to ease the burden of travelling. Next year, he might be returning to Derbyshire alone for a life of unending solitude.Annoyed, stunned, horrified.Would the memories never cease to haunt him?
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London, 1815
Darcy tarried even longer before travelling to town. He dodged the Easter visit to Lady Catherine, asserting estate matters kept him at home. He refused to spend a single day in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s undesirable presence. Therefore, Mr and Miss Darcy arrived in town in May, to a mountain of invitations.
First and foremost, the Matlocks were holding a ball in Georgiana’s honour, and they could not refuse the distinction shown by their own relations. They had begged for three years to be allowed to hold one.
Georgiana was dressed to the nines when they entered the receiving line, as was expected when the event was held in her honour. Fortunately, no one ever asked after his wife any longer, supposing he was too ashamed of the country nobody he had chosen to wed to bring her to town. No one had been invited to Pemberley, so they could not know she was not there.
The rush of guests eventually trickled down to a few late arrivals. Darcy and Georgiana followed the Matlocks into the ballroom, where Lord Matlock proceeded to the middle of the floor, and the crowd assembled around him. The room quieted; all eyes were on their host.
Darcy had expected his uncle to make an introductory speech, but he had thought he would wait until supper.
