Mr Darcy's Fight for Love Read online

  Mr Darcy’s Fight for Love

  Florence Gold

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products

  of the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to actual events or

  persons is entirely coincidental.

  Author’s Note

  The author uses UK spelling and US grammar.

  This work is in copyright as stated by Berne

  Convention for the Protection

  of Literary and Artistic Works.

  All rights reserved.

  Text: Copyright © 2019 Florence Gold

  Cover: ana damian

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Epilogue

  By Florence Gold

  Soon to be published

  Chapter 1

  “My dear Mary, you are going to accompany your uncle and sisters, tomorrow,” Mrs Bennet said with a staunch tone she rarely used. In that circumstance—all her five daughters knew—it was useless to protest. Mary looked to Elizabeth in search of help but she just shrugged. She was not going to contradict her mother for Mary’s sake or ask for any favour.

  “I could help Aunt Gardiner with the children,” Mary replied in a desperate attempt to avoid leaving home. It was well known that she did not like to supervise the children. However, even that deed was better than spending a whole day in an unknown place full of strangers.

  “I do not understand, my dear,” Jane spoke with her natural benevolence. “How could you prefer staying home than accompanying uncle Gardiner to such a resplendent domain?” As nobody answered, she addressed Mr Gardiner, who was still enjoying his dinner, “It is resplendent, isn’t it?”

  Mr Gardiner nodded while he placed his fork and knife on the plate, “It is assuredly the most magnificent place I have ever visited.”

  “Even better than Pemberley?” Elizabeth asked, slightly blushing. She remembered the impressive mansion erected in a vast park, the lavish halls full of works of art and portraits and the library that took her breath away. The visit to Pemberley had been one of the best moments in her life. Unfortunately, it ended in disaster when the news about Lydia’s elopement arrived, and they had to leave Derbyshire.

  “Well, my dears, Pemberley is indeed an impressive domain, but Sommershire is magnificent. That place is worthy of royal blood, and it is the only chance for us to enter and visit such a place.”

  Even if her uncle was right, for Elizabeth Pemberley was unique as she could have become its mistress. It was her secret—a well-kept one—not even Jane knew that only a few months earlier, in Kent, she had declined Mr Darcy’s proposal. “What could be more magnificent than Pemberley—she asked herself—maybe the Royal Palaces?”

  “You should consider it an honour to go to Sommershire.” Their uncle continued his enchanting description of a place he considered to be one of the most distinguished in all England.

  And indeed Elizabeth and Jane—each in her way—were eager to go. Jane wanted to stay away from her usual thoughts about Charles Bingley while Elizabeth was interested in her uncle’s work and the business he had with Sommershire’s master.

  Mr Gardiner did not often discuss his work. However, it seemed the last three years brought a consistent change in his business and trading activity. From a furniture supplier, he became an art dealer. An essential and visible change was reflected in his family’s wellbeing. And, as the Gardiners were extremely generous people, they tried to make the Bennets also benefit from this situation. They invited the girls to spend long periods in London and more than once Mrs Gardiner, with delicacy and thoughtfulness, provided them with those outfits that sometimes were missing from their wardrobe. “I want you girls to be fashionable,” she always said, “as I expect you to be invited by the best families in London!”

  “Tell us more about what you are expected to do at Sommershire,” Elizabeth asked. Although she seemed to be the only one interested in his work, for George Gardiner, it was enough. His niece was an intelligent and cultivated young lady who would appreciate the important role he had in restoring Sommershire to its ancient beauty.

  “It is, first of all, a tragic story,” he said, making Jane and even Mary attentive. Both of them enjoyed stories about London society.

  “The Duke of Sommershire, the duchess and two of their children all died in a terrible blaze. Only the oldest son escaped because he had his apartment far away from his parents’ and siblings’ bedrooms. It was like fate wanted him to survive as he had received permission to have a private apartment—only two weeks before the tragedy. In vain he tried to save his family: they all perished. Since then, Thomas of Sommershire lives secluded on the ground floor, in an apartment with huge glass windows and doors. It is said that only his aunt can see him or speak to him.”

  “So you have never seen him?” Jane asked, fascinated by the story.

  “No! I only speak to his aunt, the architect and the solicitors. It is strictly forbidden to go near his apartment.”

  “Is he mad?” asked Mary with a touch of fear. She imagined a dark fortress and the cries that could be heard during night time coming from the mad duke’s rooms.

  “After such a tragedy one could behave in strange ways; he was just a child himself, barely 15 years old and to see all your family killed can shock you for life,” Mrs Gardiner told them.

  “And you, dear uncle, what do you do at Sommershire? How did you receive such an important assignment?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Well…after working for the Earl of Devon, my reputation as an art dealer grew. Some years ago I was just in furniture, dining room suites, parlours or bedroom furniture that mostly come from France and Italy. Unfortunately, since the war in Europe, it became impossible to continue. Disregarding the war, people in London asked for works of art coming from France, Italy or Spain. Our brother, Jack Gardiner, thought of a brilliant scheme: he crossed the Atlantic, and from Boston, he buys in Europe and sends works of art or precious furniture back to England. It takes a longer period, but people are willing to wait for the French style.”

  Elizabeth looked at her uncle with growing admiration. She hardly imagined he was so closely related to the world of art—working in such an aristocratic environment—yet not showing any sign of pride or vanity.

  “And how is it possible to take us with you tomorrow?” asked Mary, suddenly attentive to their conversation. "I thought people like them do not want to mix with commoners."

  “It is not the case with Lady Sommershire. Where the duke refuses any contact, she enjoys such an opportunity to invite people. She told me last time to bring my children. Our children are too small for such an honour so I asked her permission to bring you, as you are grown-ups and can appreciate such a visit.”

  "My only reticence," Elizabeth said, "is about not knowing how to behave in the presence of such a family. Not that we are not perfectly bred and ready to face anyone. Still, sometimes people of the Ton have peculiar pretensi
ons. Take Lady Catherine de Bourgh—when I visited Charlotte at Hunsford—we were invited to her home, Rosings, and it was like we were in the presence of royalty. We had to follow a strict protocol…at least that is what Mr Collins insisted upon.”

  “I think, my dear,” Mrs Gardiner replied, “that it is a matter of human nature and not the place one has in society. Once Mr Gardiner even met His Royal Highness the Regent and he was very obliging toward everyone with no trace of superiority or any exaggerated protocol; one must show deference, that is all.”

  Elizabeth remembered how Lady Catherine made them feel insignificant and had the pretention for all to listen only to her words. Elizabeth’s ideas of the Ton were shaped mostly by her attitude and behaviour. And then she also remembered Darcy who was so haughty and aloof and his manners caused many of them to turn from interest to a decided dislike of him. Even when he proposed to her, he could not but express his disdain towards her family. His attitude made Elizabeth refuse his proposal with a hint of violence she regretted because, in the end, she proved to be as proud as he was. Her aunt was right; it was not a matter of position or title or wealth, it was about human qualities. And from what her uncle said Lady Sommershire was a fine woman capable of appreciating people.

  “In the last two years the Sommershire domain was rebuilt almost from the ground,” her uncle continued. “They wanted all the decoration—paintings, statues or other works of art—to be new. They kept the portraits of their ancestors, while not a single statue remained. It was the wish of Lady Sommershire who hoped that the new palace would make the young duke forget the tragedy and want to live again. Sadly, it seems that nothing could make him feel better.”

  “How was it possible not to ever see him?” asked Jane.

  “His apartment was finished first and since then no one, besides his aunt and the servants, enters that part of the house. Because I strolled alone around the palace, Lady Sommershire told me I was not permitted to enter his place. I appreciated she asked in a polite way, obviously desperate about her nephew’s situation. I feel so sorry for her; she is still a young woman who has dedicated her life to him.”

  “So, Mary…” Mrs Gardiner asked, “has your uncle aroused your interest to visit Sommershire?”

  “Maybe…” Mary answered.

  “Then, my dear, we will help you become a more fashionable young lady ready to visit a place meant to receive a royalty.”

  ∞∞∞

  And indeed the next day Mr Gardiner looked with much admiration to his nieces. Mary was utterly changed as she accepted her sisters' help to choose how to dress. They also worked a great deal on her pretty curly hair which was worn in a sloppy bun that let her face show. It was the first time her uncle looked attentively at her. She was as pretty as her sisters. Only her complete indifference to fashion or the hairbrush made her always look like a savage creature and not as a young lady. Even her glasses seemed different, giving her a fancy expression that completed her white yet pleasant face. He was content regarding all three of them and proud to be accompanied by such fine young ladies.

  Their visit to Sommershire was not the usual course of events. He did not tell the whole truth to his family. There were places where he was not received with so much kindness, and more than once he was treated like a servant. He did all this for his family and in the end, it was worth it to make some small sacrifices.

  Chapter 2

  Lady Sommershire received them in her parlour, and the first thing Elizabeth observed was her youth. She was perhaps a little over 30. From that perspective, her dedication to the young duke was also a sacrifice. In the seclusion of that palace, her destiny was to be alone for a long time—if not for her entire life. From the first moments of their acquaintance, interest, sympathy and understanding grew between her and Elizabeth. Elizabeth glanced at some books on a table. She invited Elizabeth to sit near her on a sofa, while Jane and Mary sat in armchairs further away. The conversation was warm and natural, making Lady Sophie Sommershire secretly cherish her decision to invite Mr Gardiner’s family. She was no longer used to having people around and, even less, young ladies closer to her age. Two of her friends still came to visit. Nevertheless, in time, their relationship suffered from lack of subjects or common interests. Her friends were married and had children while she was alone interested only in her nephew’s life.

  A maid came in with tea and cookies, and soon they were discussing books and life like old friends. Even Mary became interested in their conversation; she looked with much curiosity at the books on the table.

  “May I borrow a book?” she finally said with a timid voice.

  As Lady Sommershire seemed not to understand, Elizabeth explained with a trace of embarrassment, “My sister’s only interest in life is reading. She asks your permission to take a book and read while we will make a tour of the house. I hope it is not a nuisance for you if she finds a corner to read.”

  Lady Sommershire observed the three sisters with interest and curiosity. Her only sibling had been the Duke of Sommershire. She could hardly imagine living in a house full of girls, noise and joyfulness. The Bennet sisters were beautiful and pleasant, each one in her way and she wanted to know so much about their lives.

  “She may do whatever she wants, excepting that rule regarding my nephew’s apartment,” she replied with a benevolent voice.

  “Of course, Lady Sommershire, our uncle told us about that rule. She will probably stay for hours on the same bench, reading,” Elizabeth replied, looking at Mary intently to be sure her sister understood that rule.

  Mary nodded, happy to have the liberty to leave. With a book in her hand, she walked out into the vast park that surrounded the house. She strolled for a while on the neat paths, discovering people working, planting flowers or shrubs while at the far end they were cutting a new road in the dense forest. The workers watched her with hidden curiosity—a young lady was something unusual in that place—an attitude that made Mary regret her decision to leave the house. She looked around, searching for a place to hide then decided to pursue a pathway that seemed less crowded. After a while, she discovered a garden where everything appeared to be in perfect order: the trees and flowers and the paths. There was even a natural pond which enchanted her. She sat on a bench watching the water where long-tailed red fishes were waving in an elegant dance. It was indeed a perfect place and for the first time, she felt happy to be at Sommershire Palace.

  Completely absorbed by the splendour around, she did not see in the distance a young gentleman who was observing her. He was alone on the terrace facing the house, reading. He put down his book as soon as he discovered Mary coming on the path, looking at her in tremendous amazement. Clearly, she was not aware of his presence and he kept on wondering how she could be so oblivious as not to see him. He decided to call her and shouted, “You… young lady…what do you think you are doing here?”

  This he regretted when he saw her reaction—she looked at him with such terror as if he were a ghost or a villain. So he waved wanting the enchanting intruder to come closer.

  “Come,” he said in a milder voice, “approach!” And he went down the few stairs to the garden.

  Mary stood immobile, like a marble statue, incapable of making a decision. At first, she wanted to run, then she looked at him and curiosity won. He was the young duke and she had trespassed onto his territory as it was evident that the garden was his own. He was tall and slender, and as he approached, she could see the scars on his face. Mary did not remember her uncle speaking about scars. But, then, Mr Gardiner never had seen the young duke.

  “Do not run,” he said in a commanding voice. “Who are you?”

  “I am Mary…” she said, “the niece of Mr Gardiner, who…”

  “I know who Mr Gardiner is,” he replied.

  “And you are…” Mary still hesitated, then she looked at him and thought, “Ah, the burned boy.”

  In terror, she realised she had spoken her thought aloud…it was like a bad
dream where one was talking about forbidden things. She dared to look at him only to see that the young man was not angry. On the contrary, he began to laugh wholeheartedly. “The burned boy…never ever has someone had the nerve to refer to me this way…and I never felt so good with another person. It is my best laughter in years. Come, Miss Mary, we shall order tea.”

  Mary still hesitated. She remembered all the rules she had heard in the past regarding men and young women. However, she never imagined that she would have to respect any of them.

  The young man in front of her seemed to hear her thoughts as he made a broad gesture to invite her onto the terrace and said, “Forget all that nonsense, we can stay together and get to know each other better. Nobody is going to scold me...or you, I promise and we shall stay only on the terrace.”

  As she continued to be silent, he laughed again, “Do you speak?” He was teasing her, and only then she smiled, “Oh, yes, you do, you called me the ‘burned boy.’”

  He took the book she was reading from her hand and asked, “Do you read much, Miss Mary Gardiner?”

  “Bennet,” she replied. As he did not seem to understand, she finally spoke, “My name is Mary Bennet; Mr Gardiner is my mother’s brother.”

  “Ah, yes! I understand, so Miss Mary Bennet, do you read much?”

  “Yes, Lord Sommershire, I read a great deal…”

  “No,” he answered, making her somehow worried, “No lords here, I am just a man, my name is Thomas!”

  “Thomas…” Mary repeated and smiled. She was no longer afraid of him. She did not have any experience with strangers, but the young man in front of her was as unworldly as she was. He knew how to order but he did not know how to behave with other people. He seemed more at ease than Mary only because he was in his apartment, where he felt safe.

  They sat at the table, rarely speaking. He looked at her from time to time, curious to see a young woman who was not his aunt or a servant. He found her beautiful, making him think about the scars on his face.