“What on earth is going on?” wondered Bingley as he flipped through the card tray.
“Exactly what Lady Catherine planned,” said Darcy, his eyes still closed. “Matlock has become a celebrity. An unmarried celebrity.”
Bingley looked flummoxed.
“You only just found out yesterday,” he said. “How can they possibly know about the earl already?”
Darcy opened his eyes and stood. “They evidently read their news earlier than we do.”
“Alright,” said Bingley, standing alongside him. “I know what to do.”
“Do you?” For the first time in a day, Darcy found himself amused.
“Even I can reasonably assert that you may not be quite prepared for so much attention just yet. After all, you’re in mourning now.”
“Half mourning,” murmured Darcy. “But you’re right. It should work.”
“Use the servants’ stairway,” urged Bingley. “I’ll visit with the women. It is my house, after all. And I believe I am already acquainted with most of these women. Perhaps Caroline, Louisa, and I shall make some new friends today.”
“And what will you say of me?”
“If they ask about you – and you know, it is possible that you are wrong about their intentions – I will make excuses regarding your sudden need to visit Matlock, now that you’ve inherited. I shan’t have to lie; you said yourself that you have business to attend.”
“That’s true,” said Darcy. His relief was profound, as was his gratitude toward his friend.
“Then go see to your trunks, if you like. I’ll begin issuing invitations to the ball and dispense with our unexpected guests as soon as may be.”
“Bingley,” said Darcy, stopping his friend before he could leave the breakfast room. “Thank you.”
“Say nothing of it,” said Bingley with a smile. “The day may yet come I’ll need you to rescue me from my circumstances; we can discuss your remittance then.”
“I’ll write you once I arrive.”
Darcy took the servants’ stairs as directed, making his way toward his rooms as quickly as he could manage. His gait slowed as he approached the room so recently vacated by Miss Elizabeth Bennet. As the Bennets had returned home, there was nothing to be feared, nothing inappropriate by him seeing the room once more.
Darcy quietly stepped inside, closed the door behind him and leaned his back against it. The mantle of his inheritance was becoming burdensome already, and it had only been his a day.
He did not fear responsibility. Darcy had been raised by magnanimous parents who’d begun teaching at him a young age that their superior state in life required him both to maximize his opportunities and to provide for others as much as he was able. He understood the nature of obligation and was well prepared to rise to it.
He suspected Miss Elizabeth Bennet knew a thing or two about obligation. Her mother and sisters must undoubtedly require a certain kind of attention. Darcy himself was not possessed of the humor that must be required daily to withstand such an onslaught of indelicacy, but Miss Elizabeth had seemed to be the very soul of grace. He wondered how she had come to bear it thus.
His thoughts began to wander. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was beneath him, socially speaking, but Darcy had no reason to think she was any less fortunate than he. She had sisters she clearly loved, and both of her parents still lived. They were comfortable, though not of great means. Miss Bingley had not approved of the Bennets – excepting Jane, her favorite – but to Darcy’s knowledge, that disapproval was not founded in any one fact or other, stemming rather from Miss Bingley’s estimation of her own standing and how very far beneath it others must needs fall.
A union with Elizabeth Bennet would not violate anyone’s social standing. He was a gentleman, she a gentleman’s daughter.
Of course, he was Matlock now – a peer, not a mere gentleman.
Darcy shook his head. He did not have time to waste in such idle thoughts.
Yet the idea persisted. Miss Bingley’s suggested temporary solution was a practicable one, even if the idea of such flagrant duplicity irked him. But when he imagined carrying out such a scheme, it was not Miss Bingley by his side in his mind.
It was Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s face he pictured.
Darcy could think of no other woman with whom he could manage such a ruse. Miss Bingley had not the disposition, the inclination to laugh at the outright silliness of the matter. She would take it seriously; perhaps too seriously, he thought. Miss Elizabeth, however, would laugh and laugh. Her head would not be turned by the celebrity caused by his situation, nor did she appear to concern herself with finding a husband of any sort. He knew her interests were not generally material; she occupied her mind with other avenues.
Darcy knew not her age, but she was far too young to be considered a spinster; she would have several years yet to find a husband.
Darcy could just make out the voices of Bingley’s visitors downstairs.
He abhorred deceit.
But if she agreed, it would only be for a little while. They would not have to maintain the charade for long. He’d be able to move forward as Matlock in peace.
A little while later Darcy sat in his carriage, parked a short distance from Longbourn. He’d not be able to stay here much longer. The Bennets did not live in Meryton itself, but this road was well-travelled and the weather was fine. He was alone for the moment, but that would not last long.
His trunks had been left at Netherfield. If Miss Elizabeth agreed to be his companion for the next few weeks, he would be residing there awhile longer. Darcy had not informed Bingley of his plan. If she said no, there would be no point. If she said yes…
It would sort itself out.
Steeling himself, Darcy ordered the driver to proceed to the house. Longbourn was lovely, if in need of some maintenance. What he could see of the garden was rather charming. He was admitted to the house and shown to the sitting room.
“Miss Bennet will be with you shortly, sir.”
“Is the rest of the family at home?” he asked.
“No, sir,” said the servant. “They’ve gone into town on a visit, although Mr. Bennet is in his library. Shall I fetch him?”
“No, no,” said Darcy rather quickly. “That’s quite alright.”
The servant left to fetch Miss Elizabeth, leaving Darcy one last moment to consider the trajectory of his actions.
Miss Elizabeth might very well be disgusted with him.
Bingley would laugh.
His sister… he rather thought she’d laugh, too. But Georgiana was a romantic sort; when this charade was over, she was like as not to have her feelings hurt that he and Elizabeth didn’t pan out into some grand romance out of one of the novels she loved so much.
Miss Bingley was going to be furious.
And then the time for reconsideration ended; Miss Elizabeth Bennet entered the room.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, smiling as she came to sit in the chair opposite his.
“Miss Bennet,” he said. “You’re looking quite well.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m feeling rather better, now that I am home.”
“It shows.”
“But what of you? How are you faring? I do hope you’ve been able to rest since receiving your news.”
“I am well, thank you.”
“The strangled note in your voice gives you away, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet, her expression turning speculative before she blushed. “Forgive me, my lord.”
“Nevermind the address, if you please,” he said, moving to stand by the window behind his chair. “I’ve hardly had time to get used to it myself; I could not fault you for the same.”
“I suppose that will have to do,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “As I cannot seem to make you my lord in my own mind.”
Darcy turned to face her. The sudden action discombobulated her further.
“I do not mean to suggest that you should be my anything, sir. Please do not mistake me,” she began, but seemed to lose track of her words almost immediately.
“Miss Elizabeth, I have something to ask you.”
She stopped talking and folded her hands over her lap.
“I find myself in a peculiar situation,” he began. “I’m supposed to leave today to attend to Matlock’s transition before returning to act as guest of honor at Netherfield Wednesday next.”
“Will you have a great many things to deal with in taking over the estate?” she asked. “I do not mean to pry into your private affairs. I simply wondered whether it will be overwhelming to you.”
“It means a great many things to deal with, yes. You are right about that. As to being overwhelmed,” he said, “only time will tell. Your question does you credit, Miss Elizabeth.”
“How so?”
“You have intuited my reason for calling.”
“Am I to help you with your earldom, then?” she said with a surprised laugh. “Mr. Darcy – my lord – I am flattered by the suggestion, but I do not see how I can help you in any such way.”
“I need a fiancée.”
Elizabeth stared up at him blankly.
“Explain yourself, please.”
“Forgive me,” he said. “I do not mean to be so abrupt.”
“We are well enough acquainted by now, my lord, that I am unoffended by your occasional compendiosity. Go on, please.”
“I received a letter yesterday from my aunt, a woman of great means and no little influence in society. Lady Catherine suggested that my transition from Darcy to Matlock would be eased considerably by taking a wife.”
Elizabeth nodded carefully.
“You agree with that assertion?” Darcy asked.
“I can certainly see that it might be the case,” said Elizabeth carefully. “However, not all women are well suited to the position of wife, and it’s unfortunately not the sort of thing one discovers until after one is already married. I can only imagine peerage complicates that further.”
“Interesting,” said Darcy. He’d be amused at the observation some later time.
“Miss Bingley has also expressed a similar opinion,” he continued. “She thinks the social demands of the elevation will be complicated by my unmarried state.”
“I can unequivocally agree with that,” said Elizabeth. “When the unmarried ladies of our poor county find out there’s an unattached earl in their midst, I expect you shan’t have a moment’s peace.”
“You expect correctly,” said Darcy. “My uncle’s death was in the news just this morning. When I left Netherfield, there were already more than a dozen visitors asking to see me.”
“So few?” said Elizabeth with a laugh. “Excuse my jest, my lord, but it must be said. My own mother trotted out my sisters’ finest wardrobes this very morning. There was someone new she wanted them to meet. I ought to have known she meant to find and secure you first.” She laughed again.
Darcy smiled a little.
“Then already you see, it is indeed a complication.”
“Indeed,” she said, still chuckling. “And so you need a fiancée.”
“Precisely,” he said.
“You did not say ‘wife.’ I assume this is meant to be a temporary arrangement?”
He nodded.
“And you desire my help in finding such a one?” she asked.
“In a manner of speaking. I came here to ask whether you would consider taking the role yourself.”