by Zoë Burton
“You remember Mr. Collins?” Bingley chose a biscuit off his plate.
“I did not meet him, but he had arrived at Longbourn before I left.” Darcy sipped his tea but kept his intense gaze focused on Bingley.
Bingley swallowed his mouthful of biscuit. “He is dead.”
Darcy’s eyebrows shot up as his jaw fell open. He lowered his teacup to his lap. “Dead? How?”
Hurst answered Darcy’s query. “Apparently, he made advances to Miss Mary and that big footman of theirs beat him. Badly, if rumours are to be believed.”
Darcy relaxed a bit to learn Elizabeth was not the victim of the man’s advances. “Has anything been done to the footman?”
Bingley shook his head. “No. The magistrate declared it an accident and said Collins should have expected a beating for manhandling a lady. No one was charged.”
Darcy nodded, lifting his cup for another sip of tea and examining the plate on the table beside him. “He was married, was he not?” Darcy chose a small cake and took a bite.
“He was.” Bingley leaned back in his seat. “Mr. Bennet was very gracious to her, according to Jane. I do know he asked his girls to take her under their wings while she made arrangements for her husband. They helped her as much as she would allow.”
“He was buried in Longbourn’s church yard. His widow told Jane and me that she did not wish him closer. She seemed relieved he was gone.” Louisa shrugged.
“Jane told me he was abusive.” Bingley shook his head. “I do not understand men like that. They can hardly be termed gentlemen.”
“Sadly, they often are.” Darcy sighed. “I am relieved he is gone, as well. I hope an heir with a better disposition can be found.”
Bingley and the Hursts simply nodded their agreement.
Darcy set his cup on the table and rose. “If you do not mind, I should like to go up and refresh myself.”
“Not at all. I do have an annoying habit of preventing you from doing so when you first arrive.” Bingley laughed. “Please forgive me.”
Darcy grinned. “That you do, and of course, I forgive you.” He bowed to his friends. “I wish to visit Longbourn this afternoon. I owe Elizabeth an apology and an explanation.”
“Oh.” Bingley drew the word out. “About that …”
“Yes?” Darcy’s brows drew together again. “What is the matter? Is Elizabeth well?”
Bingley cleared his throat. “She is in reasonably good health, I suppose. She has been suffering daily headaches since Saturday.” He paused. “Apparently, she is … difficult to live with at the moment.”
Perplexed, Darcy tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“Jane tells me the entire household has been avoiding Miss Elizabeth, because her temper has been riled. Apparently, you wish to break off your engagement.”
Darcy closed his eyes. “My aunt.”
Bingley nodded. “Yes, she was at Longbourn on Saturday. It was a busy day over there.”
Darcy opened his eyes and stared at his friend. “Elizabeth is angry that I supposedly wish to end our understanding?”
“That is what I am led to believe, yes.” Bingley clasped his hands behind his back, rising on his toes and then lowering his heels to the floor.
Darcy grimaced and sighed. “It is good that I know what to expect. Thank you, Bingley. I will stick to my plan: refresh myself, then visit Longbourn. I will send you word if I am to stay to supper.”
“Good luck.” Bingley bit his lip as he watched Darcy’s shoulders slump.
“Thank you.” He bowed to the Hursts. “I will see you tomorrow, if not before.”
Within the hour, Darcy was knocking on Longbourn’s front door. Mrs. Hill let him in, curtseying as he stepped past her. “I am here to see Miss Elizabeth.” He handed the housekeeper his coat, hat, and gloves.
“Yes, sir. She is abovestairs. Would you prefer to wait in the library with Mr. Bennet, or in the drawing room?”
“If Mr. Bennet does not mind the company, I will wait for her there.”
“His door is open; the master does not mind visitors when he leaves it so. Please follow me.”
Darcy trailed Mrs. Hill past the bottom of the staircase to the library. When he was announced, he entered to see Bennet rising from behind his desk. He bowed.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy.” Bennet bowed, then gestured to a chair near the desk. “Come, sit. Would you care for a glass of port?”
Darcy lowered himself into the designated seat as he replied. “Yes, please.” He settled himself comfortably, then accepted the glass from his host. “Thank you.” He took a sip, savouring the taste. “This is excellent.”
“Thank you. It is one of my vices.” Bennet smiled and leaned back. “We expected your return days ago. I am afraid your unexplained absence, falling on the heels of a visit from your aunt, has caused Elizabeth no little apprehension.”
Darcy’s brows shot up to his hairline. “Unexplained? I send a letter …” He trailed off as he noted Bennet’s reaction.
“We received no letter.” Bennet began sorting through the pile of correspondence on his desk. “I know we did not.” As he reached the bottom, having examined each return address, he shook his head. “No, nothing.”
Darcy sighed. “I apologize. I should have hired a messenger instead of relying on the post.”
Bennet leaned back once more. “It is well. These things happen. Perhaps it will turn up later in the week. Regardless, my daughter is upset.”
Darcy nodded, lifting his glass for another sip. “Bingley tells me she has been having headaches. I have much to make amends for. My aunt had no business coming here and saying anything to Elizabeth. I am sorry your family was subjected to her rantings.”
Bennet opened his mouth to reply, when a knock drew his attention to the door. “Yes, Mrs. Hill?”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but Miss Lizzy has sent a note for Mr. Darcy. She says she will not see him.”
Darcy’s eyes grew wide at the housekeeper’s news. He quickly set his glass on the desk beside him and stood, accepting the missive from Mrs. Hill. His heart pounding, he never heard Bennet dismiss the servant and instruct her to close the door. He swallowed, sinking down into the chair. Closing his eyes for a moment, he gathered his courage. It is not good that she refuses to see me. Enveloped by a sense of foreboding, he swallowed again. Finally he broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
Mr. Darcy,
I hereby break our engagement. Consider yourself free to marry where you will.
E. Bennet
Darcy stared at the words, one hand lifting to rub the ache in his chest. He felt tears beginning behind his eyes and squeezed them shut.
“Mr. Darcy?” A voice near his ear reminded him of his location. With a deep inhalation, he swallowed his feelings as best he could and opened his eyes. Mr. Bennet stood beside him, offering him more port.
“I take it from your reaction, whatever my daughter said is not to your liking.” Bennet watched his guest take a fortifying gulp of wine, then moved back to his chair behind the desk.
“No. She-” Darcy stumbled as emotion tried to escape. “She wishes to end our engagement.”
Bennet’s eyes widened. “What?”
Darcy offered the missive to Bennet, who took it, adjusting his spectacles and reading and re-reading the brief note.
Bennet filled his cheeks with air and then, raising his brows and widening his eyes, blew it out. “Well.” He paused, and then tilted his head. He cleared his throat. Finally, he sighed. “She must marry you. The settlement is signed and her reputation is still at risk.” He looked at Darcy. “I will speak to her.”
“Sir, I appreciate the danger she is in, but I cannot marry her if she refuses to have me. The vicar is not likely to continue the service if she refuses to say her vows, and if I know anything, it is that Miss Elizabeth will not be compelled to speak if she does not wish it, even should she be forced to the altar.” Darcy leaned forward, resting his elbows on h
is knees and running his hands through his hair. He shoved himself upward. “Blast my uncle for delaying me.” He turned and began to pace the room.
“Calm yourself. I will speak to Elizabeth, and I am certain her sisters will, as well.” Bennet rose and joined his guest. “Go on back to Netherfield for the night. Return tomorrow and I promise you, she will at least speak to you.”
Darcy gritted his teeth, but nodded. “Very well. Thank you.” He held his hand out to Mr. Bennet, who shook it. Then, with a bow, he exited the library. As he came around the staircase, he shot a glance upstairs, his heart full of longing.
~~~***~~~
Bennet watched Darcy stalk through the entry hall and out the door. He did not miss the look the young man had thrown up the stairs. One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-grin. It is clear to me, Mr. Darcy, that you have fallen in love with my daughter. He nodded to himself. I made the correct choice; Elizabeth will, as well. He sauntered to the stairs once Darcy was gone, looking up as he began to climb.
Once at Elizabeth’s door, Bennet knocked and was immediately granted entrance. Mary and Jane were there with Elizabeth, all three seated on the bed. He grabbed the chair from the dressing table, placing it beside the bed and sitting on it.
“Where are Kitty and Lydia? I expected them to be in here today.” Bennet leaned back in the delicate chair as far as he dared, linking his fingers together and laying them on his belly.
“They went into Meryton to see Maria Lucas.” Jane turned on the bed so she could more easily see her father.
“Ah.” Bennet winked. “I knew they would be flitting about here and there the moment their freedom was gained.” He chuckled when the girls began to laugh. He soon turned serious, however.
“Elizabeth, I comprehend your anger at Mr. Darcy. I suspect, however, that it may be misplaced.”
Elizabeth sniffed, lifting her nose into the air. “You are wrong.”
“Be that as it may, and I am not saying I am perfect, mind you, but be that as it may, it is my opinion that you should give him an audience and hear him out. He has an excellent excuse.”
Elizabeth snorted.
“He tells me he sent a letter in the post.” Bennet tilted his head. “It must have been lost in the mail. He apologized for not using a messenger, instead.”
“So he says.” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw set.
Bennet sighed. “Daughter, I have never been one to take a hard stand with any of you for any reason. I have allowed you to have your way as much as possible, or endeavoured to persuade you to my way of thinking. However, I am losing my patience with you now.”
He leaned forward, his voice lowering. “I believe you have allowed the words of a stranger to dig down deep inside you and eat at you, much as a maggot eats rotten flesh. Instead of throwing them off as is your usual wont, you are allowing them to dictate your feelings. You need to stop, take a step back, and look at this rationally and without emotion.”
Bennet stood. “You will marry him. You will not endanger your sisters by having a scandalous reputation. I am your father, you are not of an age to be independent, and you will obey me in this. How you do so is up to you.” He turned on his heel and left the room, banging the door shut behind him.
The three girls had grown quiet at the sight of their usually stoic and indolent father turning red with anger. When he walked away, they looked at each other but remained quiet for several minutes after the door slammed shut. Eventually, it was Mary who broke the silence.
“I fear Papa may be correct, Lizzy. I have noticed you growing angrier and angrier over the last few days, and you told me yourself you could not get Lady Catherine’s words out of your head.”
Elizabeth sighed and leaned back against the headboard. “I know I did.” She thought for a long moment, going back in her mind over the last three days and how she had gotten successively angrier.
“Did you not say Mr. Darcy had never lied to you?” Jane’s soft question brought Elizabeth’s head up.
“I did, but that was before his relation showed up here.” Bitterness laced Elizabeth’s words.
“Do you think it would help to talk to him? Surely you wish to hear from his own lips what he feels?” Mary paused, biting her lip. “Truly, Lizzy, Mr. Darcy watched you all the time. I think he likes you very much, and that his aunt was lying for some reason.”
Jane joined Mary’s entreaty. “She is correct; you should at least speak to him. You can clear the air and then, if you still do not wish to marry him, we will help you deal with Papa.” She leaned down to peek into Elizabeth’s downcast eyes. “You care for him, do you not? You must, or you would not be so distraught over the matter.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I do care for him.” She sighed again. “Very well. I will go down and tell Papa that I will speak to Mr. Darcy tomorrow.” When her sisters began to praise her decision, she held up a hand. “I make no other promises.”
Jane and Mary simply looked at each other and grinned. “Of course.”
Chapter 23
The next day, Darcy arrived at Longbourn as early as was acceptable, Bingley at his side. They were announced in the drawing room, where Elizabeth and her sisters were just gathering. Bingley immediately took his place at Jane’s side. Kitty and Lydia gathered around the table by the window, bonnet-decorating materials all laid out in front of them. Mary greeted the gentlemen before excusing herself to walk across the hall to the music room to practice the pianoforte. Darcy and Elizabeth were left standing alone.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth, who was clearly looking anywhere but at him. He had just determined to approach her when Mrs. Bennet bustled into the room, fussing with her cap. She curtseyed to him and, taking the situation in with a glance, invited him to sit beside his betrothed. It startled him to hear the matron refer to her daughter that way, given the note he received the night before, but gave no indication that it was in any way out of the ordinary. He approached Elizabeth and bowed.
Elizabeth curtseyed in greeting. “You may sit, sir. I promised my sisters I would speak to you.”
Darcy immediately obeyed, sitting beside her on the settee and turning to face her, his knee on the seat. “I owe you so many apologies that I do not know where to begin.”
Elizabeth’s brows rose. “Indeed?”
Darcy nodded. “Yes.” He paused. “I will start with my aunt. I am heartily sorry you were subjected to her nonsense. She has insisted since my father died that she and my mother engaged me to my cousin Anne when we were in our cradles. They did not, and I have repeatedly told her I would not marry her daughter. When you accepted my proposal, I wrote her one more time, reiterating my stance.”
Elizabeth had been stiff and barely polite to Darcy since he entered the room, but the longer his tale went on, the more surprised and ashamed she felt. “She told me you sent her a letter, but she said you meant me, not her daughter.”
“Yes, I know.” Darcy curled his lip. “She left here and went to London. My townhouse was her first stop. She took great pleasure in relaying everything she had said to you, assuming I would rejoice in it. I threw her out of my house.”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide. “You did?”
With a firm nod, Darcy assured her he had. “I was furious. I ordered my butler to have her removed and went to my chambers, where I told my valet to prepare us to travel the next morning. Which leads me to my second apology.”
“Go on.” Elizabeth tilted her head, wondering what he was preparing to say.
“I am sorry I was delayed in returning to you. I suspect we could have avoided much of your angry feelings had I come back when I planned to.” Darcy held himself still. He wanted nothing more than to reach for Elizabeth’s hand, but until he knew he had been absolved of all wrongdoing and she had forgiven him, he dared not.
“What caused your delay? I had thought you would be back days ago, though you had not given me a firm date.” Elizabeth lifted her chin.
“That very
night, Saturday, my uncle sent me a note, demanding I attend him the next morning. I did, and discovered the investment deal I had helped him work out had gotten muddled again. He could not leave the paperwork alone until he got it to his solicitor; instead, he tried to explain it to my cousin. Neither is good with numbers, sadly, and it took me two more days to straighten the mess out.” Darcy bit his lip for a moment but then pressed on. “I sent a letter to your father. I posted it on Monday, but it seems to have gone missing. He gave me quite a lecture about not sending you word of my whereabouts.” He blushed.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “He does enjoy making sport of others. If it helps, my father is a most dilatory correspondent. Had it been he who was late returning somewhere, he would not have bothered to send a note at all. Do not allow him to make you feel bad for yours going missing.”
Darcy chuckled. “I will not.” He hesitated, wondering if he was going to need to sit on his hands to keep from touching hers. “Do you believe me?”
Elizabeth looked at Darcy for a long moment. “I do believe you.” She grimaced, glancing across the room to the window. “I am sorry for being angry with you and sending you the note.” She looked down at her lap, where her fingers were laced tightly together. “I was aware that you were only marrying me because it was what you saw as your duty as a gentleman. Lady Catherine is your aunt and, according to her, privy to your deepest thoughts and feelings. I had no way of judging if she was correct or not.” She looked up again. “Instead of doing as I have always done and dismissing her words, I allowed them to fester in my heart, which caused my anger.” She shrugged. “I do not know what else to say. I am sorry.” She looked down again.
Darcy could no longer keep his hands to himself. He reached out, tipping Elizabeth’s face up with a finger under her chin. “I will forgive you if you do the same for me.” He traced her jaw with his thumb. When she nodded, he glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the room. Seeing everyone else occupied with their own conversations, he slid closer to his betrothed. “Allow me to tell you,” he whispered, “how ardently I admire and love you. I cannot tell you when I began to feel this way about you. I only recently realized it.”