The Inseparable Mr. and Mrs. Darcy Read online

  The Inseparable Mr. and Mrs. Darcy

  Jennifer Joy

  “The Inseparable Mr. and Mrs. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation”

  A Meryton Mystery: Book 3

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems — except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews — without permission in writing from its publisher, Jennifer Joy.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Jennifer Joy

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  Twitter: @JenJoywrites

  Email: [email protected]

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  Copyright © 2017 Jennifer Joy

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-944795-00-9

  To my husband.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Thank you

  About the Author

  Other Books by Jennifer Joy

  Chapter 1

  Elizabeth Bennet gazed over the candelabra at her betrothed, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Even in thought she pronounced his name with a sigh. His eyes — as tender as a caress and intense as the flickering flames separating them — met hers, capturing Elizabeth in their warm depths and pulling her into their own private conversation.

  She understood him better now. She had learned to read his expressions with greater accuracy, opening up a world of debates and flirtations with the subtle tilt of his chin, curl of his lips, and glint in his eyes — which at that particular moment flickered to her left. Elizabeth smiled back at him, clamping her teeth onto the edges of her lips to keep from laughing aloud and drawing attention to their clandestine communication.

  Miss Bingley sat at Elizabeth’s left. Elizabeth wondered if she had distractedly leaned into the socialite’s personal space or if the man sitting on Miss Bingley’s other side had done so. Either way, the lady did not attempt to contain her disdain for either of her table companions.

  Elizabeth considered the seating arrangements from Miss Bingley’s perspective. Her brother, Mr. Bingley, was devoted to his new wife as was Colonel Fitzwilliam to his bride. Miss Bingley’s sister, Mrs. Hurst, was accompanied by her husband. Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle Philips were happily married, while Sir William and Lady Lucas beamed unitedly at the cause of the celebration.

  There were three unmarried men at the gathering — not counting William, who was happily engaged to marry Elizabeth, Miss Bingley’s foe. Elizabeth’s father (recently widowed and in mourning), Mr. Collins (Father’s foolish cousin and heir), and Mr. Tanner. Both of the younger men would have been considered unworthy by the superior-minded Miss Caroline Bingley.

  No doubt Sir William Lucas, the host of the wedding feast they quietly celebrated at Lucas Lodge, had taken it upon himself to encourage those who had not yet met with so great a success as his own daughter Charlotte had in the marriage mart. In keeping with the tradition of parents whose child had achieved the blessed and highly coveted married state, he must have assumed the arrangement pleasing to the unattached pair. Mr. Tanner and Miss Bingley, however, clearly did not agree.

  Elizabeth chanced a look at Mr. Tanner and the irony made her arch her brow at William. Only a Darcy dared appear so cross at a social occasion meant to encourage joviality; to look like a thundercloud over a field of cheerful wildflowers. Arms crossed, chin jutting defiantly against any hint of gaiety, an irremovable scowl … Yes, it was the precise annoyed posture William had portrayed at the Meryton Assembly only months before.

  How could Miss Bingley know of Mr. Tanner’s origins? To her, he was merely the elected village constable and owner of the Meryton inn. Had Miss Bingley known of Mr. Tanner’s familial attachment to William, she might not have pinched her face so unflatteringly. She might have at least attempted to engage William’s half-brother in conversation.

  William’s cheeks tightened, forming a dimple and telling her that he had, indeed, taken note of the similarities. His eyebrows knit into a plea of forgiveness to which she smiled softly. She had forgiven him ages ago for his aloof manners and harsh words (if “ages” could be judged by the sensation of time transpiring rather than the literal passing hours).

  How she had despised William then! And now? Elizabeth’s chest tightened, her heart overflowing with love for the man sitting across from her at the wedding feast.

  Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth’s eldest sister, Jane, were forever joined in holy matrimony, as were Colonel Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth’s best friend, Charlotte Lucas. Very soon, it would be Elizabeth and William’s wedding banquet they would celebrate. Until then, the days could not pass quickly enough.

  Sir William cleared his throat and stood from his place at the head of the table. Elizabeth reluctantly pulled her gaze from William to focus on their kind host. Sir William’s wife, Lady Lucas, had outdone herself (most likely moved by a guilty conscience and an intense desire to make expiation after her unwitting involvement in Mother’s demise weeks before). It was a feast for the senses. Such mouth-watering delights to tempt their palates, fragrant cedar branches in polished silver vases wrapped with lush velvet ribbons, the light laughter and easy conversation amongst the best of friends (excepting, of course, the aforementioned pair who killed no one’s joy but their own), and the sparkling crystals of the chandelier reflecting sunshine and rainbows throughout the dining room.

  Tapping his glass, Sir William said, "My dearest friends, though we have been troubled by great sadness recently, we are blessed with merriness today. My daughter has married a fine man in Colonel Fitzwilliam, a son of the Earl of Matlock." Looking at his eldest daughter, his cheeks reddening with glee, he said, "I wish you a lifetime of happiness." He continued, directing his attention to the other end of the table. "To Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet — er, pardon me. I shall have to learn to call you Mrs. Bingley now!"

  Several smiles and soft chortles acknowledged his error. They would all have to accustom themselves to new surnames. Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Hmm, that sounded delightful. Soon … her turn would come soon.

  Sir William continued somberly, "I hope you find comfort in each other. Mrs. Bennet would have been thrilled to know she had been correct to assume you would marry. I do not believe she would want her daughter’s grand day to be tainted by sadness. Such was not her way.” He paused, a moment of respectful silence filling the room before he added, “And so it brings us great pleasure that you have allowed ou
r family to rejoice with yours on this special day. A double wedding! Two sets of newlyweds forging an inseparable bond and beginning their life journeys in union. I wish you great happiness and abundant love. And now, dear friends, I will accede to Mr. Bennet. I am certain he has much to say."

  Father mumbled to Elizabeth, “Indeed I would, had he not said all of it himself.”

  “You are clever. You shall think of something,” retorted Elizabeth.

  Father nodded, an impish smile on his lips as he stood with his glass in hand. "Indeed, I do. As Sir William has so generously pointed out, we have much to rejoice. As of today, two of my five daughters are married. Kitty to Officer Denny in the regiment and Jane to a kind, young man with a property very near my own estate. That pleases me to no end. Another," he looked down at Elizabeth, resting his free hand on her shoulder, "is engaged to an honorable man who will take her far away, but who has so grand a home, I fear I shall impose on his hospitality often for visits of a duration worthy of the distance.”

  William nodded and, while Father’s remark was made in good humor, it struck Elizabeth, not for the first time, that Father would miss her a great deal. Especially with Mother so recently gone.

  Father continued, “Mary has found a place more suitable to her talents, putting her mind to good use at her Uncle Philips' office. And Lydia has taken charge of the care of the newest member of our family most admirably." He smiled at Lydia, who picked up her black and white spaniel puppy from the floor and waved her paw at Father.

  "Chloe is happy to be allowed to join our party," Lydia said, adding, "and she thinks her mama will marry better than all of her sisters."

  Elizabeth closed her eyes to keep from rolling them. Father squeezed her shoulder.

  He continued, "My wholehearted congratulations to the happy couples for whom we are assembled today. And to Lady Lucas for insisting on arranging a fine wedding feast. I thank you." Father raised his wine glass with a trembling hand, sighing so deeply his cheeks puffed out when he sat.

  Elizabeth saw it as surely as she had noticed several similar episodes over the past couple of weeks. She supposed it was to be expected as a part of his mourning. Father had put on a brave face of late, but his suffering had been great. As had hers, though she did not have space enough in her heart to dwell on it as he did — not when Mother would have been in raptures at the knowledge of her engagement.

  Elizabeth had William. But whom did Father have other than Elizabeth? And she would leave him soon for Derbyshire.

  The arrival of Fitzwilliam Darcy in Meryton had brought a series of obstacles which, instead of keeping them apart (as most troubles as grave as these do), had served to bring them together. From the murder of Mr. Wickham to escaping compromise in Mr. Bingley’s library; the accusations brought against William when he was accused of Mr. Wickham's murder and her attempted kidnapping; the murder of her own mother during the militia's departing parade and the discovery of a secret society against her; the near-death of Mr. Collins, Father's cousin and the inheritor of Longbourn upon his passing…. Elizabeth and William had suffered through countless trials. Trials enough for a lifetime.

  However, the fires of tribulation had revealed their true characters … and both of them had liked what they saw. Twenty-three days ago this day, William had asked for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage. And she had accepted.

  Richard bumped Darcy in the arm. "You will have a difficult time separating Mr. Bennet from his favorite daughter while he is in mourning."

  Darcy frowned. "I know it." Blast it all, he knew it. Were it solely his decision, he would have purchased a license and married Elizabeth by now.

  However, Mr. Bennet had exercised his right as the father of a young woman not yet in her majority. They would have to wait until the Bingleys returned from their wedding tour a month hence to marry. On the whole, it was not much to ask, and Darcy understood Mr. Bennet’s reasons (though he could not agree with them). But there were days when the wait was unbearable. Days like today.

  Darcy dulled his exasperation with another drink of wine. Thirty days hence, he and Elizabeth would marry and depart in good conscience in the knowledge that Mr. Bennet was welcome at Netherfield Park. Bingley had even requested Darcy's help in lining the library shelves with enough books to entertain the scholarly gentleman. Darcy tried not to resent the delay, but he never had been known for his forbearance. Whoever said patience was a virtue had never been forced to suffer a prolonged engagement to a fine eyed enchantress who had captivated him, heart and soul.

  "And then there is Georgie…,” Richard said, stabbing a cut of cold ham with his fork and chewing slowly, leaving Darcy with no other option but to divine his concerns regarding his little sister, Georgiana.

  "What about Georgie?" Darcy asked, his impatience reaching its limit.

  “I wish she and my family could have joined us today, but it is both thoughtful and kind of them to welcome Charlotte with the gathering they have arranged at Matlock House. It will make her introduction into society easier."

  “That was kind on their part, but what about Georgie?” It had disappointed Darcy to wait longer for her to arrive in Meryton, but he could hardly blame her for wishing to stay longer with Richard's family. They were complete … as their family would be once he married Elizabeth.

  Richard sipped from his wine glass. "Only that I am not surprised she chose to remain in London when she could have arrived here in ample time for the wedding."

  How little Richard understood Georgiana. Darcy set him straight. "She regrets it deeply, but Aunt Helen required her help in preparing for the dinner for you and Mrs. Fitzwilliam tomorrow. Mrs. Annesley agreed it was best for Georgiana to remain a short time more with your family in London. I do not see how she had much choice when her companion and your own mother recommended she stay."

  Richard chuckled. "Is that what Georgiana told you?"

  Darcy pushed his plate away. Really, Richard could be so irksome. "That is what she told me. Richard, speak plainly. The last time we had a similar conversation involving Georgie, I ended up riding like the devil was on my heels to Ramsgate. And we both know how that ended." He shivered at the memory. How close his dear, innocent sister had come to eloping with Wickham.

  "Has it not occurred to you that, perhaps, Georgiana may not be entirely happy you are to marry?" Richard asked plainly.

  Darcy scoffed at the foolish thought. "Of course she will be happy. She will gain a sister."

  "She will gain a rival for your affection," said Richard, his face full of pity … which only irritated Darcy more.

  Richard held his hand up and dropped his voice further. "Before you object to the idea, think of it from her perspective. You must accept how little you know your own sister, otherwise she never would have come so near to eloping with that scoundrel, Wickham, without you suspecting it. How can you be certain you understand her better now when you have been apart?"

  There was that. Darcy could not deny it, though he would not admit as much to his aggravating cousin.

  Richard continued, "You have been a more reliable role model to her than your own father, and she may very well see Miss Elizabeth as a threat to that arrangement. I believe it to be the real reason she has not joined you in Meryton as yet."

  Darcy waved it away, but his heart was divided. "Mere speculation." He hoped.

  "I received a letter from my mother suggesting as much."

  Then it was as good as a fact. With a sigh, Darcy reached for his wine glass, wishing it contained something stronger. “Why did Georgie not tell me? I thought she was being shy and reluctant to part from Aunt Helen.”

  “Do not lose heart, Darcy. Nothing worth having is ever had easily.”

  Oh, the irony! “You consider two murders, an attempted kidnapping, and a family poisoning easy?”

  “Ah, but Miss Elizabeth is worth it for you. Is she not?” teased Richard.

  Darcy smiled. Elizabeth had that effect on him. Together, they had borne
a great deal already, and Elizabeth had shown admirable strength of character through every trial. Surely, he could help Georgiana see how perfectly Elizabeth fitted into their lives without distancing her more.

  Elizabeth met his eyes and held them. He was already hers — mind, body, and soul. Nothing could separate the inseparable. Wickham had not. Aunt Catherine had not. Death and mourning had not. Mr. Bennet would not. Darcy would walk over burning coals and brave a thousand storms for her. Georgiana would soon love Elizabeth, too. He would see to it.

  Chapter 2

  Elizabeth wished she was an artist. She would capture William’s expression so that she may never forget its intensity. His firm jaw and determined chin added depth to the dare in his eyes. He looked dangerous and defiant and … oh-so-kissable.

  Father gasped beside her, wrenching her attention away from the man who had invaded her every thought and dream, to douse her with cold reality when he reached his hand up to massage his chest over his heart. His skin was ghastly pale.

  "Father, are you well?" Elizabeth whispered, her breath unsteady with worry.

  Mr. Collins, who sat on the other side of Father, noticed as well. “Mr. Bennet, Cousin Elizabeth is an attentive daughter for noticing the change in your complexion, as I had. You do not look well. Here, have another sip of your wine and allow me the honor of speaking to Sir William so that he may call for the apothecary. He cannot compare to the superior care of Lady Catherine’s personal physician, but he is the best Meryton has to offer.”