A Wife for Mr. Darcy

and by the time they had returned to the house, he was in love with her.
…she felt the need to ride Sugar in the yard. But our dappled gray had her own ideas and went right back into the stables. Lizzy was laughing so hard that she could not get Sugar to respond, and in no time at all, they were back at Sugar’s stall. You should have seen the look on Belling’s face, and then, without any irony, he said, “Are you done for the day, Miss?” and we could hardly contain ourselves. It had taken Belling longer to saddle Sugar than Lizzy had been on her .
    After tucking the note into his pocket, Darcy had been on the point of retiring when Richard came home. “Tonight was not my night for cards. I am a poor man, and so I know when to leave the tables, especially when I am losing to my brother.” After pouring himself a brandy and another for his cousin, Richard asked Darcy how his visit with Miss Montford had gone.
    After Darcy explained the interesting turn of events, Richard said, “Darcy, you are a lucky devil. Miss Montford actually gave you her permission to go to Pemberley.”
    “I can’t go to Pemberley, but if I am supposed to be in Derbyshire, then I can’t stay in town either. I shall write to Anne to tell her that I wish to visit. There is no hardship there, except, of course, listening to Aunt Catherine’s complaints.”
    “Darcy, what are you talking about? You must go to Pemberley.”
    “Out of the question,” he said, shaking his head. “I will not even consider it, and if you want to know why, I shall tell you. After our discussion the other night in which we decided that Miss Elizabeth had not been injured, I came to a different conclusion. She may not have had expectations of a marriage proposal, but flirtations are hopeful things, full of promise, and I cannot believe that at some time in all those weeks that she had not looked for a different outcome.”
    “If that is what you truly believe, then you really must go to Pemberley. If her hopes have truly been elevated, then they should be brought down in increments, not in one deafening crash when you attend the wedding of her sister to Charles Bingley with your betrothed. My suggestion would be for you to go to Derbyshire and let her know that you wish to remain friends.”
    Darcy sat back in his chair and looked at the brandy-filled glass as the candlelight passed through it, the crystal providing clarity as to the wine’s color and texture and to his thoughts as well.
    “I have no one to blame for the situation I find myself in but me. I had this list in my head of what was required of a prospective bride for Fitzwilliam Darcy, and with Miss Montford, I was able to check off many of the items on the list: attractive, accomplished, good dancer, pleasant personality, an agreeable companion for Georgiana, granddaughter of an earl, and someone who moved in the highest tiers of London society. Through a process of elimination, I decided that she was the one I would marry, so that I might have a son and heir.
    “Richard, if it were not so damn depressing I could almost laugh. Logical, careful, and methodical Fitzwilliam Darcy, who does everything by the numbers so that nothing is overlooked and plans are made for every contingency, messed up badly. The one thing I failed to factor in to all this courtship business was that I would fall in love with someone else.”

As soon as Mr. Darcy departed, Miss Montford went to the window to make sure that he was truly gone. When she saw him wave off the hackney, she was afraid he might return. But with her nose pressed to the pane, she watched as he continued walking in the direction of his house, and she let out a sigh of relief. With tears in her eyes, she went to the small sitting room adjacent to the parlor where Mrs. Redford, her companion and chaperone, sat during her visits with Mr. Darcy. This was not a secret because the rocking of Mrs. Redford’s chair and the clicking of her knitting needles provided a rhythmic background to all their conversations.
    Mrs. Redford, who had taken the place of Letitia’s mother when Lady Margaret had died when the child was eight, came over and gave her a hug, and she clung to her companion in absolute misery. Letitia took out an embroidered handkerchief from a drawer stuffed full of them.
    “It had such a promising beginning, but now…” After dabbing everything that was wet, she explained what had gone wrong. “When Papa introduced me to Mr.