by Zoë Burton
Bennet chuckled. “I agree. I will make certain my wife obeys. Is there anything else?”
Jones finished his drink and handed the glass to his host. “Just that I wish to be notified if there is a change in her condition, regardless of the time of day or night.”
His expression grim, Bennet murmured his agreement.
Jones stood and looked at Darcy. “You are the gentleman who saved her from being trampled by a bull?”
“I am.” Darcy stood, as did Bennet.
“Tommy tells me you were lying atop her and that Augusta Lancaster drove past before you got up. Mrs. Lancaster is one of the biggest gossips in this town, and known for embellishing her stories to create the most drama. I do not know if she noticed our girl lying beneath you, nor do I know what she has said of what she witnessed, but it behooves me to warn you. You may be called upon to do the honourable thing.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. He swallowed hard but nodded. “Thank you for the warning.”
Bennet stood as though struck dumb, his mouth falling open and his eyes growing large. “You cannot be serious.” When Jones affirmed that he was, Longbourn’s master closed his eyes with a groan. He opened them and threw a look at Darcy. “Let us hope, young man, that she either did not see my daughter or did not think to spread a tale … this time.”
Darcy thought of his unusual attraction to Miss Elizabeth. He had not mentioned it in his recounting of the events of the day, and now was glad he had not. He was reluctant to have the course of his life laid out for him at the hands of others, though he found that he was not as averse to the idea of marrying Miss Elizabeth as he ought to be. Still, he was not about to let anyone know that little detail just yet. He allowed his features to harden. “I was raised to be honourable in all things. I pray that you are correct and nothing comes of this woman seeing our position. Even if the worst does happen, I would want to get to know your daughter before committing myself to her for life. I am certain she would wish for the same. I will not be pushed into marriage by anyone, especially to a stranger.”
“What Elizabeth wishes for and what she gets may not be the same thing.” Bennet’s mien grew hard. “We will wait to see what happens for now.
With a nod, Darcy excused himself and began the trek to Netherfield Park. He no longer felt the fatigue in his body. The anger he was experiencing at being pushed toward marriage energized him, giving him the ability to make the three-mile ride with a minimum of discomfort. I will do what I feel is best for myself and the Darcy name, without regard to the opinions of those who are wholly unconnected to me, he thought.
~~~***~~~
Bennet watched in silence as Darcy stormed out of the room. He turned to Mr. Jones, but before he could speak, the apothecary did.
“It is unfortunate he reacted so. Let us hope nothing comes of the incident.”
Bennet agreed, then changed the subject. “Thank you for attending to my Lizzy.” He strode through the room to the desk, sitting in the chair behind it so he could lean down and unlock the bottom drawer. He rifled around inside, laying some money on the top of the desk. Then, he shoved the small chamber back inside the desk, locked it, and stood, depositing the key into a pocket in his waistcoat. He picked up the money and shuffled it into a neat stack as he returned to the apothecary’s side. “We will send for you if there is any change.”
Jones took the funds and pocketed them. “If I do not hear from you before I break my fast, I will return tomorrow by noon.”
“Very good.” Bennet shook Jones’ hand and showed him out, then slowly made his way back into his book room. There, he poured himself another glass of port and eased himself into his favourite chair. He held his glass up, examining the liquid inside, then took a long sip. He set the glass down on the desktop but did not let go of it. Leaning his head back, he thought about his second daughter, her injuries, and her rescuer. His eyes darted back and forth over his domain as he considered the facts laid before him. Then, he opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out a letter. Letting go of the glass, he opened the missive and used both hands to hold it.
Hunsford, Near Westerham, Kent
1st October, 1810
Dear Sir,
I have long been uncertain as to the wisdom of my esteemed father’s continued disagreement with you, and, having recently been ordained and granted a living by the benevolent greatness of my much revered patroness, have decided to extend to you and your family an olive branch. A houseful of unmarried women can only be a blessing to me, and I would very much like to bless them, in return.
My patroness had suggested a marriage between cousins – meaning myself and one of your many daughters – would be best, but I had already chosen a woman from among my parishioners to wed. She initially required some persuasion to see the advantages to a match with me, but now Mrs. Collins is as eager as I to rule the estate I am so fortunate as to be in line to inherit.
At this time, however, I remain the humble servant of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and have determined to do my duty to baptize, marry, and bury my parishioners as needed. I feel an additional duty impressed upon me to promote peace with everyone in the sphere of my influence, so am eager to make the acquaintance of your amiable daughters, and get to know them well. I plan to arrive on Monday, October 22nd by four o’clock, with my wife. We expect accommodation in the family wing, as my father often informed me it has the best rooms in the house. We plan to remain until the following Saturday. Lady Catherine does not mind my being gone on a Sunday, as long as there is someone in attendance to read the sermon.
I remain, your faithful servant,
William Collins
“I do not want that filthy pig to inherit this estate!” Bennet banged his fist on the desk. “He is every bit as bad as his father.” He glanced back at the letter in his hand. “’A houseful of unmarried women can only be a blessing to me.’ In his bed, he means. I will not have it!” Dropping the letter on the desk, Bennet began to pace the room, mumbling to himself as he worked out his thoughts.
“I need to get them married off as soon as possible. This one today, Darcy, has the look of a gentleman of the ton. He would have done nicely for Jane, but has compromised Lizzy already.” Bennet shrugged as he stepped back toward his desk. “All is not lost for my eldest, though. Mr. Bingley seems to like her very well and he has five thousand a year.”
Bennet nodded, turning and striding toward the window. “If this Darcy fellow has as much as I suspect he does, Lizzy will be higher than the rest of us, but that is of no importance.” He stopped, gazing out the window into the garden, hands hanging by his sides. “It would not matter who the rest of the girls marry, if I am correct about Darcy. Between he and Bingley, they could take care of my wife and youngest daughters without it making a dent in their incomes.”
Bennet spun back toward the desk, marching over to pick the letter back up. “But, there is Collins. By the sound of it, he learned very well at his father’s knee.” He slapped the letter with the back of his hand, then fell into a contemplative silence. I will have to protect the three that are left once he arrives. Their tender ages will not make a difference to one such as him, he thought. Lydia is only four and ten, and not out. I will make certain Mrs. Bennet does not push her out anytime soon. Kitty and Mary are in greater danger at six and ten and seven and ten. I know I encouraged my wife to bring them out too early, but even without the threat of Collins, fewer children in the house means more funds for books and port. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. When no new ideas came to him, he decided to put off further contemplation for the time being. I have weeks. The monster will not arrive for another fortnight. Bennet folded up the letter and locked it once more inside the desk drawer. Then, he pulled out the book he had been reading, poured himself a large glass of wine and settled in for a few hours of relaxation.
Chapter 3
Darcy arrived at his friend’s estate and marched up the steps to knock on the door. When the servant opened it, he
inclined his head and handed her his card.
“I am Fitzwilliam Darcy; I am here to see Mr. Bingley.”
The housekeeper curtseyed. “He is expecting you. Please, come in.”
Darcy removed his hat and handed it to the servant, followed by his gloves and coat. “My valet should have arrived a while ago.”
“Yes, sir. He is currently in your chambers, preparing for your arrival.” Mrs. Nichols handed Darcy’s outerwear to a waiting maid, then gestured for him to follow her. “Mr. Bingley is in the game room. Allow me to show you the way.” She curtseyed at his nod, then led the way to the back of the house, to a smallish room whose entrance was tucked under the stairs.
“Mr. Darcy, sir.”
“It is about time you arrived,” Bingley exclaimed as he dropped his billiards cue on the table. “What happened? Where have you been? I expected you hours ago.” He approached his friend to bow and offer his hand to shake.
Darcy returned the bow and accepted Bingley’s hand, then greeted Bingley’s brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, who approached behind his friend. “I got a late start this morning and then rescued a local lady from being gored by a bull. It has been an exhausting day.”
“It sounds like it. Hurst and I heard some of the neighbours complaining just yesterday about a family whose bull keeps escaping its pasture. What family was it, Hurst?” Bingley turned toward the sideboard, Darcy following.
“The Long family, if I recall correctly.” Hurst had returned to his chair and settled himself in. “Are you going to take that shot?”
“I will, as soon as I get Darcy a drink.” He gestured toward a chair. “Have a seat, my friend. I shall bring you some port, if you like, before I make my brother happy.”
The corner of Darcy’s lip quirked upward for a second. He claimed a chair near Hurst’s and then accepted his drink from Bingley. “Long is the family mentioned by your neighbour as the likely owner of the bull.”
Bingley stopped mid-motion, his right hand grasping the end of the billiard stick in preparation for striking the ball. He stood, letting his left hand lift away from the table. “Which neighbour?”
“Mr. Bennet of Longbourn.” Darcy sipped his drink, watching with interest as Bingley’s eyes widened.
“Mr. Bennet? Which lady did you rescue?”
“The second daughter, I believe. Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” Darcy took another drink out of his glass, his curiosity piqued by the relief that crossed Bingley’s face.
“Good. I mean, it is not good that Miss Elizabeth had to be rescued, but at least it was not Miss Bennet herself.” With those words, Bingley turned around and lined up for his shot.
Darcy’s brows rose at his friend’s statement. He looked over at Hurst, a question in his eyes.
“Bingley is enamoured with Miss Bennet. She is a beauty.”
Darcy’s chin lifted a notch. “Ah, I see. Is the feeling mutual?”
Bingley had moved to the far side of the table, because he had sunk his ball into the pocket and how needed to take another shot.
Hurst glanced in his brother’s direction to make sure he was out of hearing range. “I believe so. She is very proper, so it is difficult to tell, but my wife and her sister have been rather critical of the lady, so I suspect they see more in her actions than I do.”
Darcy nodded, thinking of his reaction to Elizabeth today and the care he felt for her, a stranger. “Two of Miss Elizabeth’s sisters attended her today.”
Bingley, having made his second shot, walked around the table to make a third, his path taking him close to his friends once more. “Which two?” He threw a glance at Darcy before leaning over the table to line up his stick and chosen ball.
Darcy shrugged. “I was not introduced. One was a tall blonde; the other was shorter with darker hair, though not as dark as Miss Elizabeth’s.”
Bingley struck the cue ball firmly but the angle was not quite right, and it knocked his chosen ball askew instead of into the pocket. He stood. “Were they quiet girls?”
Darcy raised his brows at the odd question, then remembered Mrs. Bennet’s behaviour. “They were.”
Bingley and Hurst both nodded. “The blonde was Miss Bennet. The other girl was probably Miss Mary. She is the middle daughter.” Bingley gestured to his brother to take a turn and picked up his glass of port.
Hurst grasped the arms of the chair. Before he heaved himself up, he said to Darcy, “The youngest two take after the mother.”
Darcy’s mouth formed an O. “I see.”
Bingley grinned and plopped into the chair Hurst had abandoned. “You met Mrs. Bennet?”
“No, but she was present when I arrived at Longbourn with her daughter.”
“Was she calm?” Bingley chuckled as he sipped his drink.
“No, she was not. I only heard her for a short while, however. She followed us up the stairs but once the door was shut and I was outside of it, I could not hear her. When the apothecary arrived, she was ejected from the room. Mr. Bennet seemed to derive a great deal of amusement from it.”
Bingley dropped his chin to his chest for a moment. “I am not surprised.” He lifted his head again, watching Hurst as he moved around the table. “He seems rather …”
“Indolent.” Hurst gave Bingley a look before bending to line up his cue and balls.
“Yes, indolent is a good word.” Bingley gazed out the nearby window for a moment. With a soft sigh, he turned back to his friend. “You must be exhausted. I can have Mrs. Nichols show you up to your room, if you like. You need not remain with us if you would rather refresh yourself.”
Darcy looked down at his clothing. He was filthy with road dust and horse hair, but his anger at what was said to him at Longbourn had yet to abate. “I would like a bath and a clean suit of clothing, but I am not tired just yet. I am certain it will hit me soon. In the meantime, I would rather stay and watch the progression of your game for now.”
Bingley looked at his friend, his head tilted. “You do not seem yourself. Did something else happen?”
Darcy sighed. “When I saved Miss Elizabeth from the bull, I threw myself on top of her. We were apparently seen, and Mr. Bennet is making noises about a compromise. I will not marry a woman I have not even officially met. No one is going to force me into something I do not wish to have happen.” Darcy’s voice became fiercer the longer he spoke.
Bingley whistled as Hurst sank the last ball and stood up. “I can see why you would be upset. Did you tell Mr. Bennet this?”
“I did.” Darcy’s demeanour became stiffer the longer he spoke, and the more he thought about what had happened at Longbourn. “I do not know who he thinks he is, but he has met his match in me, I can promise you that.”
Bingley and Hurst traded glances.
Darcy saw the speaking look that passed between his companions. “What?”
Hurst held his hands up, nudging Bingley with his elbow. “You tell him.”
Bingley sighed. “I, we, have no proof of this, but …” He paused for a long moment. “Sometimes it seems as though Mrs. Bennet is pushing Miss Bennet at me. Not that I mind; I do not. She is a lovely creature, Miss Bennet is. It is only that it often seems that Mr. Bennet is just as mercenary.”
“He hides it better, though,” Hurst interjected.
“Mercenary? How do you mean?” Darcy’s brows formed a crease as he listened to his friends speak.
“He often seems rather too eager to push his daughters forward.” Bingley shifted. “He appears to have more expensive tastes than his modest estate would allow. Of course, Longbourn could be worth more than is rumoured. You and I both know how easily that can happen; we have done it ourselves, to protect us from fortune hunters.”
“True.” Darcy nodded and looked thoughtfully into his glass, swirling the liquid. When he looked up, the anger had begun to seep away. “I should probably expect such behaviour from everyone I meet, but I confess I did not.” He set the glass down and rose from his chair. “I will remain alert in my dealin
gs with him. I have experience with such people.” He paused. “I think I will go up now. It seems your game is finished, and I am growing weary.”
“I will have the footman show you the way.” Bingley hastened to the door, opened it, and spoke to the servant on duty in the hall. Then, he came back into the room, the footman behind him. “This is John. He will take you to your rooms. Shall I have Mrs. Nichols bring you up a tea tray?”
“Yes, please. I will call if I need anything. Thank you, Bingley.” Darcy bowed to his friend and Hurst, then followed John up the stairs.
~~~***~~~
An hour later, having bathed and dressed in clean clothing, Darcy relaxed with a cup of tea and a plate of bread, cheese, and meat. Soaking in a hot tub of water had both relaxed his body and cleared his mind. Now, he was able to think about the events of the day without anger.
I did compromise the girl, Darcy thought. Her father is well within his rights to make the demands he did. Could I have avoided falling atop her? He went over the incident again in his mind, reliving the sight of the lady and the bull. He shook his head. I can see no other way to have protected Miss Elizabeth. Everything in me recoils at the thought of leaving her exposed to flying hooves. Darcy rubbed one of the bruises he had discovered on his leg during his bath. Who knows what manner of damage might have been done to her had I not done what I did.
Standing, Darcy moved to the window. He leaned against the frame, one hand twisting the signet ring on the smallest finger of his other hand. Given that I have, indeed, left her vulnerable to gossip, the honourable thing to do would be to offer for her. However, as I said to Mr. Bennet, I do not know his daughter and she does not know me. Is she mercenary like her parents? Is she demure and easily led and will obey them if they insist on a union between us? Or does she have a mind of her own and ideas of her own about her future? He sighed and straightened, dropping his hands to his sides. I will soon find out, I am sure. Her reaction will decide my course. If she is the former, I will leave the area and shake the dust from my feet. My position in life will protect me. If, however, she is the latter, I will take the time to get to know her and make my decision then. Her father can go to the devil.