Switched Read online

  Switched

  by

  Iris Lim

  © 2019 by Iris Lim.

  All rights reserved.

  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

  To the Great Author, who always brings the right people together in His perfect time and way.

  Chapter 1

  It took many moments of deliberation before he spoke, before his singular declaration sent his friend into a marital frenzy. Darcy knew clearly, even then, that his expressed desire to marry would surely lead to Bingley's – and that their quiet evening discussions would soon be replaced by talks of ribbons and balls and gowns.

  With Georgiana's recent heartbreak heavy upon his heart, however, Darcy could hardly regret the choice to at last invite a woman into his heart and home.

  “I am of a thought to be paired this fall.” His one line, quiet and clear, barely rose above the cackle of the fire.

  Bingley's sudden wide eyes, however, indicated impeccable understanding.

  “Why, that is terrific!” his guest and friend cried, glass landing loudly upon the table. “We can appear before the Constable together!”

  Despite all anticipations with which he had armed himself, Darcy still found himself surprised. He leaned back against his chair – his most preferred in all of Pemberley. “You had resolved to be paired?”

  “Often,” came Bingley's quick reply. Two whole seconds passed before the man had the decency to turn shy. “Caroline had urged me to wait – to not meet the matchmakers before my wise friend did.”

  “And to leave her the mistress of Brigham Park until then,” Darcy quickly observed.

  The thought, so plain to Darcy, seemed to take his friend by surprise.

  “You believe her acting with selfish intent?” The disbelief was half part innocence and half part sadness.

  Darcy frowned. “Perhaps.”

  “Right.”

  The two friends fell silent, both men relishing many a private thought. It was not until the disintegrating log toppled upon itself in the fireplace that both men roused once more.

  “When do we go?” Bingley asked first, face hopeful. His hands rediscovered his brandy.

  Darcy felt a rare pang of uncertainty. “I hurry not – though I would wish to discuss the matter in town before the next moon.”

  “Excellent!” Bingley recovered his enthusiasm instantaneously. “I shall prepare my settlement papers the very morrow.”

  “And inform your sister?” Darcy reminded.

  “Yes. I believe she shall be very happy for me.” Bingley's confidence was to be admired. “With Louisa oft in London, Derbyshire offers her little by way of female companionship.”

  “Do you regret your purchase?”

  “Regret Brigham Park? Not at all!” Bingley sounded astonished. “Its proximity to Pemberley is among its charms, of course. The estate itself, however, is worth every pound of its purchase.”

  “I am happy to see you content, friend.”

  “And I look forward to seeing you so.”

  Bingley smiled. Darcy frowned.

  “I do not believe I have ever expressed any thoughts of discontent,” said Darcy.

  “Oh, but your face declares it all!” Bingley laughed. “I have often had to persuade Caroline that your loneliness is not one that longs for her.”

  “Oh, God forbid –”

  “Indeed. I have been a very good friend, Darce, and you owe it to my many efforts to be decidedly happy with your bride.”

  Darcy smiled slightly for a moment. The thought of meeting one's bride at last – of receiving a woman to Pemberley, of observing her presence in his life as he waited to make her his wife – yielded both senses of adventure and trepidation. He had always found his home comforting yet grand. Would a young lady placed in these surroundings think so as well?

  “I am glad you have come to your senses at last.” Bingley's remarks, smilingly delivered, retrieved Darcy from his thoughts. “I had feared you were committed to be an eternal bachelor.”

  The friends exchanged low chuckles, both minds preoccupied with deeper thoughts and hopes.

  “To friendship then – and the company it brings to life's great milestones.” Darcy raised his glass.

  “Yes,” Bingley readily agreed, “and to its adventurous foray into the great unknown of love!'

  • • •

  The rumbling of the carriage heightened Bingley's excitement, though it seemed only to intensify his friend's anxiety. On any other night so fair, he was certain they would have chosen to travel on horseback. Tonight, however, secrecy was of particular import.

  “I cannot wait to look upon her fair countenance.” Bingley sighed happily, earnestly hoping to cheer them both. “Our brides, I am sure, will shine the brightest in the entire country.”

  Darcy's scoffing laughter was the truest expression he had sported all evening. “Your optimism, Bingley, knows no bounds.”

  Unsure if his friend meant to compliment or to jeer, Bingley frowned. “You do not wish for a beautiful bride?”

  “I do,” said Darcy shortly. “It would not do for a woman to be too unbecoming, though I am quite certain the right amount of family jewels should beautify any lady quite adequately.”

  His friend's frank assessment, coupled with the sad and dark look in his eyes, made Bingley wonder silently if Darcy was meant to marry after all. Would a woman want a man so dour for her groom? He himself, at least, was determined to be happy and joyous when he at last met his bride!

  “You frown as if you do not wish to meet the woman of your dreams,” Bingley observed astutely.

  Darcy's small smile felt ill fitted with the darkness of night. “You fidget as if you are certain you shall meet her tonight.”

  The offense Bingley felt was rather legitimate. His voice rose of its own accord. “And why else are we hastening ourselves to the matchmaker's? Is it not to find true love?”

  Darcy did not answer for a still, prolonged moment.

  “Do you think so little of marriage, Darce?” Bingley's heart ached with disappointment.

  “No,” said his friend at last, eyes looking calmly out the window. “I do believe love is possible within these pairings. My parents did find themselves in quite the loving marriage.”

  “Then I am right!” Bingley beamed. “We shall inform the matchmaker tonight of our intentions – and she shall find the loveliest women in the land to be our wives.”

  “Brides, Bingley – brides,” Darcy reprimanded quickly. Bingley laughed. Did the slightest choice of words truly matter? Yet Darcy would have none of it. “You do not well to be so hasty, friend. The first Meeting shall not be until the first fortnight ends. A man's honor shall be duly protected by his choice of words and actions.”

  “Would it matter so much what we call them?” Bingley laughed again. The spell of hopeful love ran warm in his veins. “One's bride shall become one's wife soon enough.”

  “Not if we revoke.” Darcy's inevitable prudence, while helpful, felt distinctly unromantic upon this night of promise. “Take care to think only with your brain, Bingley, lest you complete before the first Meeting and shackle yourself forever.”

  Bingley's rolling of eyes and groaning of chest reflected the dismissal in his heart. “You, my friend, are simply far too bleak of a man. Would it matter if I complete within the first fortnight when a woman is already dear to me?”

  “And you are
so certain this unknown maiden shall be so?”

  “I would not swear by it,” Bingley conceded with a sigh. “But I would not choose to ignore the possibility. If I find my heart truly attached – would it matter that we make our bodies our own before the general time?”

  Darcy's loud sigh came with that hint of brotherly disappointment that Bingley had often disliked.

  The next words from his friend came unexpected, “If you truly love her – then you would do well to maintain until the second Meeting, when you can confirm your vows sincerely.”

  The thought of waiting upon love slightly muddled Bingley's already agitated mind. He had waited so long to request for a pairing, to draft the papers for an exchange.

  Was Darcy right to suggest that he wait even after he found his bride?

  “You advise that we wait?” Bingley asked as the lights of Lambton drew closer. “That we tarry in practicing marital rights we so clearly would own?”

  “No,” replied Darcy, wisdom rich upon his face. “I advise that we do not think of those rights as our own – 'til we are certain that these brides suit us well as our wives.”

  “We shall not touch them until the first Meeting is complete?” The thought itself still felt foreign in Bingley's mind.

  “I shall not touch mine,” Darcy replied. “I cannot govern your thoughts or your actions.”

  The buoyant anticipation that had filled Bingley's mind earlier tonight was slowly being drowned in a sea of good sense.

  “And what if we like them, Darce? Would it be so ill to love them quickly? The second Meeting is not until two months away.”

  At that, Darcy laughed. “It is of the first that I speak. One fortnight alone was all I proposed. No one says that a man who has found a lifelong partner and chosen to maintain his pairing be made to wait for two months long!”

  • • •

  “Welcome, good sirs! It is an honor to meet you.” The lady's quick manners were simple and fair. The deep, patterned colors of her gown indicated a lady of taste, if not of great wealth. Stray threads of grey hair implied an age that her smile did not suggest. “I am Mrs. Gardiner, and I am deeply honored to serve you tonight.”

  Darcy found it appropriate to bow slightly at the cordial welcome, while Bingley launched into words much more flowery.

  “We are incredibly blessed to have a lady so exquisite handle our affairs,” Bingley avowed, his smile as wide as the ocean blue. He nearly hopped into his chair while Darcy politely sat upon the other. “Your wisdom, Mrs. Gardiner, must know no bounds.”

  While indeed appearing to be a woman of good sense, the courtly lady had not seemed to earn such appellation yet, in Darcy's private thoughts. It was therefore fortunate that Bingley continued to talk.

  “What wonderful young women you must know, Mrs. Gardiner! I trust you would not do us ill. Pray, tell, what beauties of England would you lead to our humble homes?”

  Mrs. Gardiner's quiet smile earned her much higher regard in Darcy's mind than her manners or her dress.

  “I dare not promise what I do not know, sir. The Constable’s choices may have guided you to my table tonight – but it remains to be seen if my circles suit yours,” said their matchmaker kindly – and proved herself even better. The letters upon her desk, no doubt filled with descriptions of Derbyshire's finest, were each discreetly facing down. She smiled. “Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley – pray, tell my old soul what brides you seek.”

  Bingley's mouth was open quite immediately, waxing eloquent of every possible accomplishment a woman could own. His many claims regarding what made a woman eligible, however, were just as quickly reverted by his own words. No sooner would he declare musical talent an absolute prerequisite for a proper bride that he would immediately mutter its irrelevance to marital bliss.

  All of his outbursts Mrs. Gardiner bore with grace, and Darcy found himself grateful when Bingley ceased at last.

  “Thank you, Mr. Bingley, for your very vivid descriptions.” The lady smiled. The breadth of her wooden desk separated the young men from her elusive wisdom. “Mr. Darcy, would you care to indicate your preferences?”

  Darcy, much obliged, nodded his head. The tall candles about them cast long shadows between their seats. “I seek a woman of good sense and good breeding, madam. Overt beauty she need not have, though I wish for my wife to remain presentable in company. Her intelligence and wisdom – I would much wish to admire.”

  Mrs. Gardiner's smile, accompanied by a joyous glint in her eyes, indicated great self-satisfaction. Yet, even then, her gestures remained perfectly calm.

  “I believe I know just the women for you, good sirs. I am glad you have been tasked to come to me rather than to the others.”

  Her remarks sparked Darcy's curiosity, and he leaned forward without thought.

  “If you gentlemen would trust my objectivity – I shall be more than happy to refer my two dear nieces for your exchange. They are not of Derbyshire nor London but often visit my own home from their estate in Hertfordshire. Good sense of country meets good breeding of town in their kind manners.”

  The lady merely paused, but Bingley looked ready to pounce upon the contract this very minute.

  “I endorse my nieces highly, sirs, with no selfishness of spirit,” Mrs. Gardiner continued. “I would be happy to personally escort them to your exchange if you wish for the pairing. That is, of course, if you do not mind sisters.”

  “Sisters!” Bingley flew off his chair in glee. “There is little better than what you propose, madam. Darcy and I shall be brothers in the law itself while enjoying our marriages to the very best of England.”

  Bingley's smile, now directed at his friend, compelled Darcy to smile himself.

  “Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner asked then, “Your friend makes no secret of his approval. Do you wish for your honor to be equally engaged? I promise no protests if you choose not to maintain upon the first meeting. Couples revoke for reasons of their own.”

  Faced with Mrs. Gardiner's knowing gaze and Bingley's ecstatic smile – Darcy said the words that were to alter his life permanently henceforth and forever, “Very well, so it shall be.”

  “Wonderful!” Bingley jumped before him and grabbed his hand in a hearty, delirious shake. “We shall be both friends and family. Mrs. Gardiner, please – give Darcy the elder, for he must of course be first. I would gladly meet the younger for my bride.”

  • • •

  The rumbling of the carriage, ecstatic for Bingley two hours prior, grew tedious for Darcy now. Their need to wait 'til nightfall had provided them with a tardy beginning for their call – and an even darker hour for their return. Bingley may glow all he wanted – the day still remained simply a matter of business. Darcy had business to do, and he had done it as he should. Now that the business had concluded, his body ached for bed.

  “I can see her already, Darce,” Bingley said, smile evident even in the dim carriage. “Her golden hair and her welcoming form. I shall greet winter this year a happy man. I dare say the good Lord always knows best.”

  Darcy's fatigue rendered his scoff rather mild. He lowered his neck further under his coat. “Mrs. Gardiner said nothing of their good looks.”

  “But do you not know in your heart of hearts that your bride shall be beautiful in your eyes?” Bingley persisted. “You may have the elder sister – but I am certain that I shall have the kinder, softer, prettier, younger girl.”

  Bingley's resolve evoked from Darcy a genuine smile. “And if she is not?”

  “Not?”

  “Not what you picture her to be,” said Darcy sagely. “If her hair were to be darker than light, her manners stronger than kind, her smile more clever than proper – would you doubt our Lord's hand?”

  “No,” said Bingley naturally, though he quickly fell silent afterwards.

  The cluster of lights behind a row of trees indicated their fast approach upon Brigham Park. Darcy leaned his heavy head against the carriage wall behind him. “Your optimism suit
s you, Bingley – and I hold no ill will towards your hopes. But, still, be wary. Not all brides are meant to instantly be wives. There is reason the choice to revoke exists.”

  “I suppose,” replied his friend.

  “I have not been previously paired,” Darcy admitted, “and I profess no wisdom about the matter. I do, however, know that I would only wish to confirm my vows to a woman I truly love.”

  The choice of words seemed to peak Bingley's interest.

  “Love? Darcy – you seldom speak of feelings.”

  “Indeed.” The carriage slowed as the horses yielded. Brigham Park's spacious courtyard welcomed their somber entourage. “I have made the choice to be paired, however, and I entrust myself to the institution.”

  “To find true love,” said Bingley happily. He lifted himself and his many coats towards the door. “Have a good evening, Darce. I am thankful for your company.”

  Darcy smiled. It was true, at least, that the very unfamiliar process felt less daunting with Bingley by his side. “Thank you. I share your sentiments.”

  Bingley left with a cheerful wave of his hand, and Darcy was left to his private ruminations. Without Bingley's eternal idealism beside him, fear and uncertainty threatened to overtake. The wheels' uneven journey back to Pemberley perfectly reflected his uneven spirits.

  He knew, of course, that he had to take a bride. His fortune needed heirs, and legitimate heirs required marriage. In addition, his contentment as a bachelor, however pure, equipped him ill to father Georgiana – and magnified each reason he needed to marry.

  It was not good for man to be alone, and Darcy found the truth catching him sooner than he would have liked.

  As a man of good sense – he recognized the inevitable. He would ask for a bride, marry. The exchange would happen, and he would have two prudent weeks to observe the woman in his home. He would have two more months to indulge in his single state while Mrs. Gardiner retrieved her nieces and – even then – another fortnight to decide his fate.

  He envied Bingley, slightly, for his boundless cheer. He himself dared not to be quite as optimistic.