Falling for Mr. Darcy (20 page)

The thought of Elizabeth, combined with the coolness of the breeze that blew over his face, soothed his spirit, and he was able to reflect more peaceably. His discussion with Mr. Bennet a few days before had gone smoothly. His surprise was great at the amount of enjoyment he had in the gentleman’s company. Darcy’s mouth turned upwards in a small smile. Mr. Bennet had reminded him a little of Elizabeth. He had a quick wit and a tendency to lighthearted banter. He had not expected Mr. Bennet to be a sensible man when he reflected on his choice of wife or the rumors of the neighborhood regarding his mismanagement of the Longbourn estate, but Darcy did not find him lacking or insensible. He was intelligent, fair and understanding when he learned of Wickham.

Mr. Darcy could not say exactly why, but he felt he could trust Mr. Bennet implicitly with Georgiana’s secret. He remembered that, during the moments he spoke with Mr. Bennet about his painful history with Wickham, he had felt an unexpected nostalgia. It now dawned on him with no small amount of surprise and sadness that the feeling was a reminder of the talks he used to have with his father as they rode around Pemberley.
Oh, how I miss you, Father!

Darcy closed the terrace door and walked over to stoke the fire. He was lonely and wished he did not have so many items of worry. A moment of envy washed over him as he considered his friend Bingley. Two days before, Bingley had returned from his visit to Longbourn radiant and excruciatingly jovial in his mood.

“She is an angel, Darcy! An absolute angel, and soon she shall be mine!”

“Whatever are you talking about, Bingley?”

“Miss Jane Bennet. I asked permission today to court her, and she has accepted.” Bingley laughed to himself before continuing. “I was so happy when she said yes that, for a moment, I thought I would just ask her to marry me right then.”

“Bingley, are you sure this is what you want? You could secure the hand of nearly any lady of consequence in England. Miss Bennet’s connections and wealth are below you, and you could do better.” Darcy had been asking himself the same question for many weeks now, and it felt good to voice out loud the concerns that had been assaulting his peace of mind.

Bingley turned on him and shook his head disbelievingly. “Darcy, sometimes you are such a pompous — I will not say it, but really, man, you should listen to yourself!” His mood could not be ruined by his dour friend.

Darcy hid the offense he felt and continued, “Bingley, what about your duty to your family?”

“Duty be damned, Darcy! My father made his fortune in trade and, although I have been raised as a gentleman, it is merely my money that has bought my acceptance into society. Jane is the daughter of a gentleman. She is everything lovely, pure and beautiful. I’ll be damned if I let some misguided talk of duty to any person or to society keep me from living the rest of my life in her happy companionship.”

Darcy sat silently contemplating his friend’s words. “Bingley — ”

“No, Darcy, I shall not let you talk me out of this. I have lived with only my sisters and Hurst as family for far too long. I have spent years in London without meeting anyone who suits me as Jane does. I shall have happiness, Darcy. I shall!” He turned and, patting Darcy on the shoulder, left the room with as much enthusiasm as he had entered it. Darcy was left wishing he had the courage to obtain such happiness.

Mr. Darcy took out his watch and opened it to gaze at his stolen treasure. He was supposed to be trying to loosen the strings Elizabeth had wrapped around his heart and ignore their tugs in the direction of Longbourn. He was staying out of her presence so that he could figure things out. But his control regarding her was slipping, and Bingley’s happiness was tempting him. He snapped the watch shut and hoped the image of Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes would snap out of his mind, too. He was different from Bingley, his duties not so easily forsaken.

* * *

Elizabeth folded her letter and heated the wax with a candle before stamping the seal. She had written her aunt a lovely recital of the events of the Netherfield ball and days following. Jane had asked her to include the news of her courtship with Bingley, and Elizabeth happily accepted the charge. She knew her aunt would be interested, and Jane was much too occupied to write herself — what with daydreaming about Bingley when the gentleman was not visiting and spending time with him when he was.

Elizabeth took up the letter and tapped it on her writing desk absently as she frowned. Bingley had come nearly every day for three days now since he had begun courting Jane. Although she was happy for her sister, she was beginning to feel a bit of disappointment that his friend had not accompanied him on at least one of his visits. She had not ventured to ask about Darcy as her courage did not extend that far. Mr. Bingley was lively company, and she enjoyed his conversation, which was fortunate as she was often relegated to chaperone her sister and the gentleman.

However agreeable Mr. Bingley’s visits were, they lacked a certain something that had been there whenever Mr. Darcy had accompanied him. Bingley, although intelligent, was not a great reader, and Elizabeth found the range of topics to discuss narrowed in their ability to challenge her mind. She was disappointed in herself for thinking about Mr. Darcy so much. It was not as though the gentleman was at Netherfield pining after her company. If he had been, he had only to call with Mr. Bingley to secure it.

Elizabeth, who prided herself in her independence, was beginning to find the feelings of her heart to be rather irritating at times. Falling in love with Mr. Darcy — and love him she did — was stealing her composure. She did not like the assortment of feelings the man caused in her. At one moment, she would feel shivers of joy pulse inside her when he simply smiled, then in the next moment, her natural pride faltered as she worried he did not return her regard. Now, she was sitting there wishing to see him and disappointed that she had not.
What has happened to me? Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn does not need the attentions of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley to be content,
Elizabeth thought discontentedly.

* * *

When Elizabeth carried her letter down to her father’s study to be posted with the rest, she was surprised to see he was not alone. Sitting across from his desk were the unhappy faces of her two youngest sisters and her mother. Elizabeth sensed it was a private meeting and, therefore, just slid her letter on the post tray on her father’s sideboard. She had intended slipping out without a word, but her father’s voice stalled her.

“Elizabeth, you may stay.” It was less of an invitation than a polite request. She recognized this and, bewildered, took a seat at the side of the room.

“Papa, did you really have to throw the man out? La! He was only accompanying us home from Meryton.” Lydia’s shrill voice caused Elizabeth to sit back in astonishment at her impertinence.

“Lydia Bennet, you had best listen very clearly to what I will say now, because I will not repeat myself. You are not to speak so much as two words to the man or go so far as to be in his company. I forbid it. If you do not adhere to my ruling on this matter, you will find yourself no longer out in society and relegated to the nursery again. There will be no balls, no evenings in company, no assemblies — nothing. This goes for you too, Kitty. Do I make myself clear?”

Elizabeth looked with astonishment, first at the impassioned face of her father, who had never once, thus far, exerted himself in his parental role as to forbid anything of his daughters, and then at the stunned profiles of her sisters and mother. Her interest in the cause for such a display without precedence increased significantly.

Her mother was the first to recover from her astonishment. “Mr. Bennet, surely you are not serious. Whatever can you mean by telling the charming Mr. Wickham to leave and not ever come back to Longbourn? And to demand Lydia not speak to the man? You try my nerves, sir, with your teasing. I met the man, myself, today in Meryton when he accompanied us home. He is everything affable and such a handsome gentleman. He is an officer, too, you know!”

Elizabeth was beginning to understand the import of the moment, but she was confused as to how her father had come to the knowledge of Wickham’s character. Mr. Darcy had said he would inform her father about Wickham, but he had not been to Longbourn since before the Netherfield ball.

“Mrs. Bennet, I can, and I will, decide what persons are welcome in my home, and I will thank you to remember that. Mr. Wickham is not to be admitted here, nor are any of your daughters to be allowed in his company. I assure you, I do not jest. The man is a blackguard, a gamester, and a philanderer of the first ranks.”

“But how can you know that, Papa? You have only just met him a moment ago! I daresay, he cannot be so handsome and so bad, too,” insisted Lydia, undeterred by the steel in her father’s voice.

“A gentleman of our acquaintance has known Mr. Wickham his entire life and informed me of his character. I have since spoken to Colonel Forster, and he has confirmed that Wickham already has substantial debts around Meryton. And I will not wound your sensibilities with the rumors of his more personal encounters with more than one member of the serving class in the area.” Mr. Bennet appeared suddenly exhausted and aged as he looked towards his daughters and wife once more. “I have said all I will on the topic, and you know my demands. I will brook no more discussion regarding Mr. Wickham; you are dismissed.”

Lydia and Kitty flounced out of the room with dramatic wails, followed by Mrs. Bennet, not much more composed. Elizabeth stood to leave.

“No, Lizzy. Stay a minute, please.”

Elizabeth went to her father’s side and took his hand in hers. After a few moments of silence, Mr. Bennet directed Elizabeth to her favorite chair by the fire and sat down in his.

“Elizabeth, I am sure you are wondering why I asked you to stay. I am tired, so I will come straight to the point.” Mr. Bennet then related briefly his encounter with Mr. Darcy. He shared with his daughter an abbreviated version of Wickham’s history with the Darcy family and, excepting revealing the identity of Georgiana, related the attempted seduction and elopement of a ‘near relation’ of Mr. Darcy. “I had planned to make less of a display when forbidding your sisters to be in the company of Mr. Wickham, but when they arrived home today from Meryton on the arms of the man, I wasted no time in informing the gentleman his presence was not welcome now or ever at Longbourn or with any of its inhabitants.”

“Mr. Darcy warned me to stay away from the man, but I had not thought that he was as bad as that,” Elizabeth said in astonishment at the numerous humiliations and betrayals Mr. Darcy and his family had suffered at the hands of one wicked man. Her esteem for Mr. Darcy rose significantly as she realized the many mortifications he must have endured in exposing his dealings with Wickham to her father in order to protect her and her family.

“Your Mr. Gent is a good man, Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said quietly and tenderly as he watched Elizabeth absorb all he had told her. She looked up at her father but could say nothing. They sat there in silence for some time, lost in their own thoughts until it was time to change for dinner.

Chapter 9

Mr. Darcy was beginning to think he should have accepted the invitation with Bingley to dine at Longbourn that evening rather than give his excuse of business. Now, Bingley was in the company of the woman who would soon become his betrothed and also Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy morosely drank from his glass. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had already separated to the drawing room after dinner to leave Mr. Hurst and him to a glass of port. Darcy looked at his glass as he swirled the cherry-colored liquid. He frowned as he imagined that, instead of sitting next to Miss Bingley all evening over the never-ending courses of food, he could have been listening to Elizabeth’s sparkling laugh, ready wit and enchanting voice. Maybe she would have played the pianoforte after dinner, or they might have played a game of cards.

His resolve kept him from accepting the invitation, and instead, he stayed at Netherfield for the evening. After three courses, the assault on his senses from Miss Bingley’s perfume was nauseating. Her endless vitriol about the neighborhood was also irritating. Nor did the constant flattery directed at him help his appetite.
‘Oh, how precisely you cut your venison, Mr. Darcy.’
He groaned out a humorless laugh at the ridiculous attempts to catch his attention. He found that, if he kept his head bent to his meal and merely nodded occasionally to her, he could minimize the stirrings of the air and thus marginalize the onslaught.

Moments in which he had been ungallant enough to sport with her had brought a little enjoyment to the evening. For example, when he asked for her opinion on the recently discussed Corn Laws in Parliament, her answer caused him to bite his cheek to keep from laughing until he tasted blood.

“Oh it is infinitely important for one to keep in mind that a varied diet is certainly the most healthful.”

The memory brought an unbidden chuckle from his lips, and Mr. Hurst, who had dozed off in his chair after the ladies left, sat up and, after clearing his throat rather rudely, proclaimed, “Quite right, quite right,” before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes again. Mr. Darcy covered his mouth, trying to quench another peel of merriment.

He could not avoid rejoining the ladies much longer, so as if to fortify himself, he drank the rest of his wine in one gulp. When he stood, Mr. Hurst did not rouse at the sound, so Mr. Darcy, with a heavy step, found himself heading alone to the front lines. He slowed his pace as he neared the drawing room doors and signaled to the footman not to announce him. When he noticed the door ajar, he dismissed the footman altogether and stopped to listen to the conversation through the door.