Page 6 of Idle Gossip

I am a fool. Darcy ought to flee to London, to get away from the entrancing creature just three miles away. But he could not. He was in great danger of falling completely in love with her, and there was nothing he could do about it. No, he was meant to marry a wealthy woman from the first circles and live his life devoid of Miss Elizabeth’s effervescence.

“Sir, this has just arrived for you.” Brisby stepped into Darcy’s bedchamber, an express in his hand.

“Good heavens, is it Richard?” His cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, was on the continent.

“No, sir, there are no black edges.”

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” He took the missive and broke the seal. “It is from my aunt, Lady Matlock. Brisby, ready my things. I shall read this and then go with Bingley to Longbourn.”

“Very good, sir.” Brisby bowed and departed as Darcy settled into a chair to read.

Darcy,

It is with great alarm that I write you of gossip now circulating London. It concerns you and your friend, Bingley. I would expect that harpy sister of his to be the author of this madness if it was her name being linked to yours, but it is not. The news circulating is that Bingley is engaged to a Miss Jane Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire, and that you will soon follow him to the church and say your vows.

I heard it from Lady Sefton, who had it from Lady Jersey, that you, too, are engaged to a young lady from Hertfordshire. If this is true, I must ask, how this information was not imparted to your nearest relations before being spread about the ton? If it is false, I fear we shall have a trying time undoing this mess. Everyone is speaking of the elusive Mr. Darcy, finally to be leg-shackled. My dear nephew, you know what your family wishes for you. These rumors, while alarming, can be mitigated, if that is what you want. Your reputation might be damaged, but the Darcy and Fitzwilliam names can weather the storm. You must leave Hertfordshire immediately, however, and distance yourself from your friend and these Bennets.

Write to me and tell me how I must act. If you wish me to contradict the rumors, inform me at once. If your inclination is to marry the woman to whom your name has been attached, I shall do my best to support you. I only hope she is equal to the task of facing the ton.

Yours,

Aunt Tilda

Darcy reread the paper in his hand twice before staring off into space.

What in the world? He would suspect Mrs. Bennet of orchestrating this, but he knew without a doubt that they had no connections to the first circles. Darcy was nothing if not thorough. He had investigated the family discreetly when Bingley had first shown interest in Miss Bennet.

How did this get to London? His aunt was right; if Miss Bingley had done this, she would never have tied her brother’s name to Miss Bennet, and her name would have been attached to him.

Lady Matlock was also correct that the Darcys and Fitzwilliams could weather the storm. People would be inclined to believe him innocent of wrongdoing simply because he was wealthy and connected. But the Bennets?

Their situation was not good. The estate was entailed away from the female line. If Mr. Bennet died, the family would be cast into genteel poverty. Their only hope of security was to marry well. Rumors such as a broken engagement could make the entire lot unmarriageable.

I cannot do that to Elizabeth. He could not harm her in such a way.

Realization crept into his thoughts. Every impediment he had conjured against her had now vanished. His aunt had tentatively given her approval. Lady Matlock had always allowed Darcy to be his own man and instructed her husband to do the same. It was very unlike his other aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

I can marry her. The idea thrilled Darcy. While he did not love her yet, he was certain a few weeks would see his admiration become such.

Darcy rose and strode from the room. Bingley was waiting for him. Darcy would tell him of the gossip in town on their ride to Longbourn. And once they arrived…He could not help grinning.

The first weeks of November were a trial. Charlotte’s comments plagued Elizabeth. She thought of Mr. Darcy far more than she would like, and he often invaded her dreams. She could see truth in Charlotte’s suppositions, and it bothered her, though Elizabeth could not tell exactly why.

Mr. Darcy continued to hover on the edges of her conversations whenever they were in company. Mr. Bingley’s calls on Longbourn had increased, which meant Mr. Darcy’s presence at Longbourn had also increased. Mrs. Bennet treated his presence with thinly veiled hostility while welcoming Mr. Bingley with open arms.

Her behavior embarrassed Elizabeth. As much as she disliked Mr. Darcy, her mother’s behavior was not appropriate and only served to further display her family’s lack of refinement. Kitty and Lydia’s behavior made it even worse. They were absolute heathens.

Mr. Bingley and his friend were expected that afternoon. The former’s attentions to Jane had increased. Elizabeth was quite pleased, for it proved that Charlotte’s nonsense about showing more than one felt was just that—nonsense. Jane had not changed a jot, and Mr. Bingley was as besotted as ever.

“Mr. Bennet!” Mrs. Bennet’s anxious cries filled the house. “Mr. Bennet! I have just had a letter from Madeline, and you must see it at once.” A door slammed, and Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane.

“What is that about?” Jane asked.

“I cannot say. Mama appears to be overworked due to something in our aunt’s letter.” Elizabeth shrugged indifferently and went back to the embroidery in her hands.

The gentlemen arrived soon after, and the ladies rose to meet them.

“Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, welcome.” Jane stepped forward to address them. “I apologize that my mother is not here to greet you. She is…occupied, at the moment.”