A Wife for Mr. Darcy

“Will and I spent six weeks there after the end of the season. The views are both spectacular and inspirational. I am no poet, except when I visit the Peak, and any talent I have with a pen falls away as soon as I set foot in London.”
    “Mr. Gardiner and I are to visit the Peak in three weeks’ time, and we are trying to convince our niece to join us,” Mrs. Gardiner said.
    “You really should go, Miss Elizabeth. The inn at Lambton offers comfortable accommodations, and if you mention our acquaintance, the Culvers will treat you royally.”
    Lizzy assured Georgiana that she would give the matter careful consideration, but at that time, the first notes of the fiddle announced that the dancing would resume. She had promised the dance to Mr. Collins, while Mr. Darcy had found a more skilled companion in the parson’s betrothed. Georgiana graciously accepted an invitation from the aptly named Mr. Short, who was as tall as he was wide.
    I like Miss Darcy very much , Elizabeth thought. If she were not a Darcy who lived in a mansion in faraway Derbyshire, they might easily be friends. But she was a Darcy and her brother was the lord of the manor, and nothing could change that.

    When Darcy wasn’t dancing, he was much in demand with the local gentry. They were impressed with his knowledge of the day-to-day running of a farm. At his father’s insistence, he had served something akin to an apprenticeship to the elder Wickham as Darcy’s father had emphasized that the financial well-being of the family was directly dependent upon the sound stewardship of the land and a good working relationship with their tenants. As a result, there had never been so much as a hint of discontent at Pemberley.
    Before claiming his dance with Elizabeth, Darcy went out onto the terrace. If there was any doubt of an attraction between the two before this night, their time together had put an end to all pretenses. However, he had a legacy to preserve, and he could almost feel the eyes of Baron Roger D’Arcy, the first Darcy to set foot on English soil, upon him. But at that moment, his feelings for the lady were such that he wished that his ancestor had stayed in Normandy so that he might not feel this heartache.
    “There you are, Darcy. Hiding from the ladies, are you?” Bingley said with a laugh in his voice. “I would imagine you have worn out your boots by now.”
    Darcy shook his head and smiled at the only man of his acquaintance who seemed to never have an unhappy moment, and at this particular time, Bingley was the perfect antidote for his dark thoughts.
    “I must say it was damned decent of you to dance with Miss Mary Bennet. Not the best dancer. Missed a few steps here and there. But you would have hardly known it from the pleasure she had in being asked by the towering figure of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Are you done for the night?”
    “No, I have one more dance with Miss Elizabeth.”
    “Darcy, have you given any consideration to…”
    “No,” Darcy said, interrupting him. “Let me stop you there as there is nothing to discuss. By the end of the week, I shall be in London,” and after patting his friend on the back, he returned to the ballroom.

    While waiting for the musicians to begin the dance, Darcy admitted to his partner that he was enjoying the Netherfield ball as much as any dance in London during the season.
    “Perhaps you had grown tired of too much deference,” Elizabeth suggested.
    Darcy laughed out loud. “You have the most remarkable observations, Miss Elizabeth. Too much deference? I had never thought of it in quite that way. But, yes, I was bored to the point of exasperation.”
    “But you are to return to London?”
    “Yes,” he said with genuine regret. “Things are not always as one would wish them to be. Sometimes, our destiny is determined long before we are born.”
    “Forgive me for asking a personal question, but during our time together at Netherfield, you mentioned that your mother and Lady Catherine were half sisters.”
    “Yes, Lady Catherine’s mother was born a Denby; my mother’s mother was a Devereaux.”
    “Did you ever wonder if there was a hullabaloo when your grandmother married a Fitzwilliam, someone who was not of Norman stock?”
    “I am sure any objections were mitigated by the fact that he was to be an earl, but I have never given it any thought.” The furrowed brow that revealed so much about what Mr. Darcy was thinking returned, and after many minutes of silence,