A Wife for Mr. Darcy

Derbyshire, Jane was sitting on the bed reading a letter from Lydia.
    “Well, it seems that there is no limit to the number of dances and concerts she attends, and she goes to the shops every day and plays cards two or three times a week. She is still a flirt and boasts of it. Last week, she wrote of an Ensign Gray, and this week, she is singing the praises of Lieutenant Tenyson.”
    “At least she is moving up in rank. If Lydia manages to attract the attention of a captain, Mama will have Uncle Philips drawing up a marriage contract for her.”
    Jane knew her sister was in jest. Both sisters had strongly objected to her being allowed to go to Brighton with Mrs. Forster, who was only nineteen herself, but both had been overruled by their father.
    “As long as it is not Lieutenant Wickham,” Lizzy added. “While I was at Mrs. Proctor’s card party, he sought me out once again for the purpose of maligning Mr. Darcy. This time his story involved the sister, Miss Darcy. He claimed to have provided endless hours of entertainment for her. I gave him no encouragement, and when I said that I thought it unfair to talk about someone who was not there to defend himself, he walked away.”
    “I saw that,” Jane said. “He was clearly unhappy with you.”
    “Well, he is gone, and hopefully, we will hear no more about him. Besides, I want to think about rocks and mountains and gardens and tree-lined paths, not Mr. Wickham.”
    It gladdened Jane’s heart to see how happy Lizzy was in preparing for her journey, especially now that she had been assured by Miss Darcy that her brother would remain in London. After first being opposed to going to Pemberley, Lizzy was now eager to visit the manor house and bask in all the delights the landed gentry took in their stride.
    “Miss Darcy has mentioned there is a dappled gray in Pemberley’s stables that will do very well for me, and that she will turn me into a first-rate horsewoman. She is being overly optimistic there, but I am agreeable to the idea of becoming an equestrian,” Lizzy said, laughing. “She has also arranged for a picnic in the Peak District, and if we choose, she said that one of her grooms will take us to some of the caves that are actually on the Darcy property. And the gardens! If they are anywhere near as beautiful as her description, then I shall truly be in heaven. It has been two years since we visited Woburn Abbey.”
    Lizzy came and sat next to her sister. “It has been five days since Mr. Darcy left to go up to town, and in that time, I have recovered my senses, and I have taken stock of my prospects. Mr. Peterson was very attentive to me at Aunt Susan’s in August, and when a man mentions the size of his fortune, it shows some interest on his part. I wish I had given him more encouragement, but I am confident that if he had become engaged, Aunt Susan would have written to us as she dearly loves sharing neighborhood gossip.”
    Looking out the window, Lizzy saw that Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley had arrived for dinner. Both sisters hurried down the stairs, one to greet her beloved Charles and the other to make welcome a new friend.

    Shortly after dinner, Mrs. Bennet gave out a cry announcing the Gardiners’ arrival. Being of an amiable temperament, she loved having guests, but this time her excitement was due in large part to the mode of transportation rather than the people being transported. The Gardiners had arrived in the Darcy carriage.
    Every Bennet, Miss Darcy, and Mr. Bingley went out to greet the Gardiners. Once the carriage came to a complete stop, a footman jumped off the back of the carriage and assisted a smiling Mrs. Gardiner as she exited from the luxurious conveyance. Mercer spoke with Miss Darcy, assuring her that the maid had sent the requested items and handed her a letter from her brother.
    “I am sure he will begin his missive by telling me how confident he is in my abilities, and then proceed to give me a dozen more instructions as to how to entertain our guests.” Mercer smiled and nodded. His master was a man who paid attention to the details, which was why he found his courtship of Miss Montford so puzzling. It was higgledy-piggledy, a word Mercer had never before thought to apply to Mr. Darcy, but he suspected that the reason for his unsettled behavior was now admiring his carriage.
    Pointing at the shiny black coach with the Darcy coat of arms emblazoned on its side, a giggling Mrs. Bennet asked Mercer if she could get