Mr Bennet and Elizabeth’s sisters joined in her mirth, while Mrs Bennet failed to see what was so amusing. Only when Jane pointed out that it was Mr Darcy who was trespassing, did Mrs Bennet understand.
Choosing not to see the humour in the situation, Mrs Bennet said,
“Well, I think Lizzy was very fortunate not to be injured, which I quite expect one of these days with all her walking about the countryside. She wanders here, and she wanders there, with no servant for company or protection.” Turning back to face her daughter, Mrs Bennet reprimanded her for the umpteenth time. “You could at least ask one of your sisters to walk with you Lizzy; goodness knows what our neighbours must think of you.”
“I can assure, mamma, there is none that would wish to do me harm in the local area, and as for our neighbours, they all have better things to do than gossip about me taking a little exercise. Besides, Papa is the only one up when I leave.”
Deciding Elizabeth had been scolded enough, Mr Bennet broke into the conversation.
“And I am too busy with estate business to chaperone Lizzy. Let the girl enjoy her freedom for a while longer, Mother.” Said Mr Bennet, referring to his wife by his pet name. “Now, I suppose I am obliged to pay Mr Darcy a call, knowing that he was injured on my property.”
Mr Bennet paused to sigh.
“It is a chore to be sure, but I can see no way of avoiding it. Still, once I am confident he will survive his injuries, I see no reason to extend the acquaintance.”
Mr Bennet was gone a relatively short time the next morning when paying his call on Mr Darcy. On his return, he went directly to the parlour and stood before the hearth. Raising his coat tails to aid the circulation of air, Mr Bennet warmed himself before the glowing embers.
“The cold seems to have worked its way through to my bones this morning. I hope you were sufficiently layered for your constitutional this morning, Lizzy? We wouldn’t want another one of you girls confined to bed with a chill,” he said jovially and winked in the direction of his favourite child.
Elizabeth returned his smile and then went back to reading her book.
It was clear her papa was referring to Jane’s forced stay at Netherfield Park earlier in the year. Mrs Bennet had insisted that Jane rides on horseback rather than in the carriage, to take lunch with Miss Bingley. Sadly for Jane, the skies opened up, and a deluge of rain washed down on her, resulting in her catching a chill.
Mr Bennet, as the only male member of the family, was quite used to being left to his own devices. Indeed, a great deal of his time was spent in his study, which boasted an excellent selection of books for such a small estate. He liked nothing more than after dealing with the day's estate business, to retreat into his study and lose himself in the pages of a good novel, away from female talk of fashion and fancies. And if Lizzy decided to join him for a spell of companionable reading, so much the better. Her sharp mind and whimsical sense of the ridiculous saw them often laugh at the world in general.
Gazing down at his ladies, Mr Bennet was surprised by their total lack of interest on his visit to Netherfield Park.
After some minutes of disinterest from his family, he said,
“I am pleased to say the gentleman will survive his injuries. You need not reproach yourself for Mr Darcy stubborn refusal of help, Lizzy. Indeed, the gentleman assured me he recovered almost the instant you had left.”
Fanny Bennet glanced up at her husband.
“Mr Darcy, Mr Darcy, I am sick of hearing his name. Did you ask why he had returned to Netherfield and is Mr Bingley to join him?”
Mr Bennet took a moment to savour the knowledge that he alone held, before saying,
“Mrs Bennet, he confided only that his business was of a personal nature. But he did intimate that his sister, one Miss Georgiana Darcy, might be joining him in the near future.”
Everyone lifted their eyes and looked at the now chuckling, Mr Bennet. No longer ignored, he was the focal point for six pairs of questioning eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Mr Bennet prepared himself for the barrage of questions that would now inevitably fly his way.
Mrs Bennet, Kitty, and Lydia bombarded him with a dozen questions all at once. Their voices battling with each other to have their query heard and answered first.
Holding up his hand to silence them all, Mr Bennet turned to his wife and said,
“I gleaned as much information as I could, without being impertinent. If you remain quiet for but a moment, dearest, I will endeavour to relay all that I know to both you and our offspring.”
The room fell silent.
“Mr Darcy is aware that his sister has led a somewhat sheltered existence. He confided that, at present, she is too shy to be presented at court. However, Mr Darcy hopes that if he is successful in the business he intends to conduct while in Meryton, she might be coaxed to visit him at Netherfield within the next few weeks.”
“I cannot see Mr Bingley returning to Netherfield if Mr Darcy is merely attending to business. How very annoying, I must say,” interrupted Mrs Bennet. “Did he say how long he intends to stay?”
“He hopes to winter in Hertfordshire before returning to his estate in Derbyshire early in the New Year.”
Mr Bennet paused briefly, and in those few seconds, the cacophony of noise again began to rise.
Then, very softly and with no fanfare at all, Mr Bennet added,
“I have invited him to dine with us this evening.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Fanny Bennet erupted into action.
“This evening, Mr Bennet? This evening? Oh, my Lord, I must speak to cook without delay. I cannot serve Mr Darcy mutton stew! And we must have at least three sauces. Hill… Hill?” Mrs Bennet called for her housekeeper then rushed from the room in search of her.
Close behind their mother was Lydia and Kitty, who raced upstairs, squealing at the prospect of a male guest. It did not matter that it was the annoying Mr Darcy, the boring Mr Darcy. Though he was not as handsome as the militia officers in their fine red coats, they still saw it as an opportunity to put on their favourite ball gowns.
Mr Bennet looked at his remaining daughters, his eyes coming to rest on his middle child, Mary.
Seeing her father’s expectant expression, Mary said,
“I take no pleasure in welcoming a single gentleman to our table, but I understand that Jane or Lizzy may benefit from such a guest in our midst in the form of a suitor,” Mary stated flatly and without malice.
“Wise words, Mary. You stick to your sermons and music. Much better company than single gentlemen.” Mr Bennet replied.
Satisfied that she had made her views known, Mary gave a nod, picked up her pile of sheet music and went off to practise on the pianoforte.
Now, with only Jane and Elizabeth to keep him company, Mr Bennet spoke freely.
“Poor Mary. Too plain and sober-minded to snare a husband for herself, while Kitty and Lydia are too silly to attract a sensible minded man.”
His gaze shifted between Elizabeth and Jane until he finally confided in them.
“If Mr Bingley does not return and make an offer for you, Jane, then I fear your mother will expect one of you to encourage the affections of Mr Darcy. I also fear she will not be happy until she has deprived me of the only two sensible people in my household.”
Then, in an unusual show of affection, Mr Bennet kissed Jane and Elizabeth on the cheek before withdrawing to his study until their guest arrived.
Chapter Three
“Damn and blast,” cursed Fitzwilliam Darcy as the footman closed the door on the retreating figure of Mr Bennet.
He stood for a long moment in the atrium of Netherfield House, brushing a hand through his dark wavy hair, a habit he unconsciously executed for a variety of emotions.
Then, bounding up the stairs two at a time, he bellowed,
“Fletcher!”
Mr Fletcher, or Fletcher as he was known, was Mr Darcy’s valet. He had been engaged by Mr Darcy Sr. to look after the young master
when he went to university in Cambridge.
Old Mr Darcy had deemed Fletcher, being a single man in his late thirties, suitably mature to serve his son while he concluded his education, and then to accompany him on his grand tour. Unfortunately, circumstances had seen the latter postponed indefinitely when Mr Darcy Sr. passed away unexpectedly.
Fletcher preferred the young Mr Darcy to any other employer he had previously served. He treated him well and paid him handsomely. And unlike several of his contemporaries who bemoaned their lot in life, Fletcher liked his work and his employer.
Since old Mr Darcy’s death, Fletcher, who had no family of his own but an older sister, viewed himself as a surrogate father to the young master. Others might say he overstepped the boundaries of a servant, but Fletcher, rightly or wrongly, saw it not only as his duty to take care of his master, but as a privilege. Indeed, Mr Darcy was the most honourable man Mr Fletcher had ever known.
Even before Darcy reached the door to his chambers, Fletcher turned the handle and smoothly pulled the door open from the inside, allowing Darcy to enter without pause.
Darcy stood before the mirror and waited for Fletcher to remove his jacket and waistcoat.
“I see you have survived your first caller, sir,” Fletcher ventured.
“I did not journey out of town to be harangued by a deluge of rustic callers, Fletcher,” Darcy replied with ill humour.
Fletcher knew this mood well. Darcy disliked engaging in meaningless chit-chat, especially with strangers, and although the Bennet’s were known to him, he had not spent any time alone with them.
Usually, Mr Bingley or his sisters were by Darcy’s side when making calls or receiving visitors, thus easing the path of conversation. Then, once Darcy felt comfortable, he would begin to contribute to the discussion.
Sensing Fletcher was still waiting for a reply, Darcy said,
“Mr Bennet has invited me to dine with his family tonight.”
“A quaint custom sir, not uncommon in the Shires. Did you accept?” Fletcher asked.
“I felt as compelled to accept his invitation as he did in offering it.”
Fletcher said nothing, but his raised eyebrow spoke volumes.
“Odin threw me yesterday morning, and I had the misfortune to land on Longbourn property. Hence the invitation.”
Fletcher, who knew all about his master’s unfortunate accident, suppressed a wry smile, and said,
“I am sure the horse did not do it intentionally, sir.”
Darcy gave Fletcher a sideways glance. He should berate him for being over-familiar, but in truth, Fletcher had a point. It was not the animals fault; it was his. Odin was a noble and magnificent beast, not unlike his master. Having been ridden like a common plough horse, he had every right to dislodge his abuser.
Having done his best to refuse the squire’s offer, even assuring Mr Bennet that his injuries were more to his pride than to his flesh, the man would not be dissuaded.
“Nonsense, Sir, you must let me offer you restitution in the way of a hearty meal with my family.”
In truth, he had finally accepted because it was the perfect way to rekindle his acquaintance with the Bennet’s without slighting any of Bingley’s other neighbours. To say his reintroduction to Meryton society had not gone as he planned was an understatement.
Initially, he had intended to make an appointment with Mr Bennet and seek his permission to formally court Elizabeth without anyone else aware of his intentions. That way, if the squire refused his consent, only the two of them would know of his failed suit. But his unfortunate meeting with Elizabeth had meant that idea had been scrapped. At least this way, he did not have to concoct another plan, another meeting. The foundations to speak to Mr Bennet were already laid and by the gentleman himself.
Fletcher opened the wardrobe door and retrieved his master’s dressing gown, and then eased the garment over Darcy’s broad shoulders.
Sinking into the comfortable chair by the fire, Darcy waited for his bath to be filled.
As a stream of servants filed in with buckets of steaming, hot water, Fletcher cast him a sideways glance.
Seeing his master was deep in thought, Fletcher uncharacteristically misread the reason why.
When the last footman had closed the door behind him, Fletcher ventured to say,
“I understand that a meal of two courses may last only a few hours. You could be home by ten, sir.”
“Yes,” Darcy concurred absently, not really hearing him.
Having spent several minutes contemplating the forthcoming evening, Darcy began to wonder if there had been any changes during his week-long absence.
“So, what news have you managed to glean from the local populace?” he asked.
If Fletcher considered he knew his master well, then by default, he must also concede the same of Mr Darcy.
Mr Darcy had been conscious of Fletcher’s worth for years, as were many of his acquaintances. He was charming, intelligent, had impeccable manners, was loyal, honest and above all, trustworthy. Indeed, several of Darcy’s lesser friends had tried to poach Fletcher away from him with offers of financial reward.
He was grateful for Fletcher's loyalty.
“I understand a proposal of marriage has been made to one of the Bennet girls, sir,” Fletcher imparted.
Shocked to hear these words, Darcy jumped to his feet and began to fire a string of questions at him.
“A proposal? Was it accepted? Who made it and to whom?”
Before Fletcher had time to answer, Darcy grabbed him by the shoulders and asked with urgency,
“Which sister, man?”
“The second eldest, sir, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy’s hands dropped to his sides, and he turned his face away. He was too late. Knowing how desperate Mrs Bennet was to secure husbands for her offspring, there could be no doubt that Elizabeth would now be engaged.
Fletcher stared at his master. Mr Darcy had never laid a hand on him in the ten years he had been his valet. Undeniably it was a shock, but as Fletcher focused on Darcy downturned features, the reason for his actions became clear.
His pained expression announced he was a man in love.
Fletcher quickly added,
“Miss Bennet refused the Parson’s offer, sir, there is no engagement.”
Darcy turned to face Fletcher with such speed he almost felt dizzy.
“Elizabeth refused him, are you sure?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Although I gather the girl’s mother was exceedingly displeased with her,” Fletcher replied, pleased to note the look of relief that had swept over his gentleman’s face.
Inhaling deeply, Darcy allowed a wide grin to curl his lips. He wished he had been a fly on the wall when Elizabeth had turned the obnoxious Parson down. Elizabeth was far too spirited to be leg-shackled to a man like William Collins.
Easing himself into the steaming tub, Darcy suddenly thought dinner with the Bennet’s didn’t seem quite such a daunting prospect after all.
A few minutes before seven, Darcy was shown into the drawing-room at Longbourn. Assembled before him was the entire Bennet family.
Mr Bennet, who was standing before the fireplace, moved forward to greet him.
“Ah, Mr Darcy, welcome to, Longbourn.” Mr Bennet said as he shook Darcy’s hand. “I believe no introductions are necessary.”
Darcy scanned the faces of the six women, and coming to rest on Elizabeth’s, he said,
“No, sir. I am acquainted with all your ladies. Good evening.” The ladies stood and curtsied, to which Darcy replied with a single bow.
“Now, we dine unfashionably late at Longbourn as I expect you recall. I take it you have no objections, sir?”
“None, sir. I am content to fit in with your usual practice.”
Turning his gaze to the rest of the gathering, Darcy waited until the women were seated once more before selecting the empty chair next to Mrs Bennet. A choice he would later regret.
Mrs Bennet g
ave him a strained smile and then asked,
“Mr Darcy, how nice to see you sustained no serious injury after your mishap the other day. I trust your horse also came to no harm?”
“Odin is quite well, thank you.”
Elizabeth turned to her father and discreetly raised her eyebrows. It was evident that Mr Darcy had not changed in the essentials, he appeared to possess a taciturn nature still.
“If Mary will play the pianoforte for us after dinner, would you join us in a dance, Mr Darcy?” Lydia blurted out randomly.
Darcy knew he was being baited, but if he wanted to spend more time with Elizabeth, it meant he also had to spend some time with her relations.
“I seldom dance, Miss Lydia,” Darcy replied politely, hoping that his curt reply would curtail any further ideas in that direction.
“Why not, you danced with Lizzy at Mr Bingley’s ball?” Lydia persisted, a childish pout forming on her lips.
Formatting a reply that would not cause offence, Darcy said,
“Finding a partner that matches my exacting standards is not always easy, Miss Lydia. If one is to partake in an activity, it is preferable to do so to the best of one’s ability, is it not?” While Darcy maintained a calm countenance, inside, he was horrified at the girl’s rudeness. Although approximately the same age Lydia, Georgiana and the Bennet girl were nothing alike.
Had she just been insulted, or complimented? She wasn’t sure. As she was the only local he had deigned to dance with since he arrived in Meryton, it could be a compliment. On the other hand, he did not say she met those high standards he sought in a partner. Maybe an insult after all?
Again, Elizabeth raised her brows in the direction of her father.
Lydia opened her mouth to challenge Darcy again, but the sudden pressure from her father’s hand on her shoulder told her she should not. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and released an exaggerated sigh. It was evident to all present that she was sulking
Thankfully, Hobbs, the butler entered as the clock struck seven and announced that dinner was served.
The soup course was eaten in relative silence, with only the odd, pass the bread please, being uttered.
Mr Darcy's Proposal Page 2