by Massey, Beth
Mr Hurst got himself a brandy and plopped himself down on one of the sofas. “Damn waste of a good evening. I would have much preferred to stay home and play cards. Most of the men at the assembly preferred dancing to games.”
Mrs Hurst was a little tipsy, and giggled at some news she had heard. “Mr Darcy, did you know that one of the Bennet sisters has an understanding with your housekeeper’s nephew? Charles, I am sure that is something to think about with regard Miss Jane Bennet.”
Between Bingley and Darcy, there had grown a very steady friendship since the day Bethany had approached the angelic looking man in the park. In spite of their great opposition of character, Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper—and Darcy most appreciated his lack of duplicity. In contrast, Bingley’s sisters specialized in intrigue, and were forever calculating how to get the best position at a table, or in Caroline’s case, the best escort into dinner, which in her opinion was, of course, Darcy. He knew Mrs Hurst had fired the first shot in the sisters’ battle to protect their brother from an unsuitable match.
The manner in which Bingley spoke of the Meryton assembly was as Darcy expected—and certain to frustrate his sisters. “I have never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life. Everybody was most kind and attentive to me. I perceived no formality, no stiffness and I became acquainted with all in the room quickly. Miss Bennet is the most beautiful and pleasing woman of my acquaintance. She is an angel, and I plan to call on her on Monday.”
Darcy chuckled inwardly at the predictability of his response and the image of one angel finding another. What would Bethany think of her aunt, the angelic Miss Bennet, who had captured the imagination of her angelic friend, Mr Bingley?
The superior sisters allowed Miss Bennet was quite lovely but were concerned for her inferior familial ties. Miss Bingley said, “I heard that the Bennet family’s near relations are almost entirely in trade, and the marriage of one daughter to Mr Reynolds will definitely reduce their standing.”
With only a slight slurring of his words, Darcy said, “Ah yes, Bingley, your Miss Bennet is very lovely, but I did notice she seemed reserved with regards to the admiration she received. But, you are correct; she definitely looks like an angel.” Suddenly the mixture of horror and humour of the night liberally laced with strong spirits hit him, and he became positively giddy as he said, “I am certain Bethany would agree and think it prophetic that her angel is enamoured of another angel. As you know, I have promised to apologize to Miss Elizabeth and Mr Bennet. I will accompany you on Monday. I think I have had too much to drink, so I will be retiring for the night.”
Darcy left the room and climbed the stairs to his room. He knew he would dream of her tonight.
28 A GOOD WOMAN IS EVEN HARDER TO FIND
Elizabeth felt the need to put off the inevitable meeting with Mr Darcy. She feigned a headache on Sunday morning, and her family went to services without her. On Monday at breakfast, she told her father she was going to walk to Meryton to check on some books she had ordered. She figured once there, she could spend the day with Charlotte. Elizabeth suspected her father knew she was dissembling, but she thought this was a better plan than meeting Mr Darcy without being prepared.
Mary and her father were both concerned and curious about what Elizabeth found frightening about Mr Darcy’s apology. When alone, they speculated it had something to do with her mysterious sojourn in Derbyshire. Mary told her father of Mr Darcy’s odd question about whether Mr Collins had shared his observations of Lady Catherine’s family with Elizabeth. She further elaborated that she had warned William not to tell Lizzy anything about the connection between the two, and also not to divulge to Lady Catherine that he had met Mr Darcy in Hertfordshire. At first, he was hesitant to comply because he seemed to be in the habit of telling his patroness everything; but Mary was fixed in her opinion that her way was the best. It would not do for Lady Catherine to learn of the incivility of her son-in-law toward her sister from Mr Collins. Surely he did not want to have to tell her the mortifying circumstances—and he would be forced to share that information if he was to disclose meeting him in Hertfordshire. Mr Bennet was impressed with the powers of persuasion over her betrothed exhibited by his middle daughter.
For five years, Mr Bennet had been unsuccessful in devising tactics to induce Lizzy to provide information about her loss of liveliness. She had steadfastly stuck to the story of helping the widow Thomas until she died, and alluded to the fact that her death had saddened her. Mr Bennet knew she was not telling him the truth, but over the years, he was never able to convince her to confess the truth of the situation.
Mary and Mr Bennet had often discussed the most pernicious gossip about a man being connected to Lizzy’s inheritance. Both felt there was something she was hiding, but they both remembered the girl who had left shortly after her fifteenth birthday. That young woman was morally upright and much more interested in playing with children, reading, music and witty conversation than romance. She, like Mary, had wanted to delay coming out. Neither could imagine Elizabeth falling prey to a man and accepting remuneration, even if he was handsome and charming… not to mention that scenario required them to believe the Gardiners complicit in such a scheme. Mr Darcy was handsome, but Mary told her father he was far from charming. She found him almost as ill at ease in society, as she had been until recently; and he was almost ten years her senior.
They had one other piece of evidence for the case they were building to support Mr Darcy knowing something more about Lizzy’s time in Derbyshire. The previous Easter, the Bennet family had welcomed John Reynolds’ father and aunt into their home for a visit. Both Mr Bennet and Mary had noticed that Lizzy and John’s aunt acted in a most suspicious way. To a casual observer, it would appear they had never met, but Mary had seen them alone together conversing quietly twice. On one of the two occasions, Mary had even seen Mrs Reynolds hug Elizabeth. She had seen them from an upstairs window, sitting on a bench in the little wilderness on one side of the lawn. Lizzy had dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and appeared to be crying, though Mary was too far away to be sure.
After the Reynolds left, Mary confided to her father what she had seen. Since that time, she and her father often speculated about their relationship. They found out from John that his aunt was the housekeeper at Pemberley, a great estate in Derbyshire. Mary told her father that she had learned the night of the assembly that Pemberley was the name of Mr Darcy’s estate. That piece of the puzzle convinced them the day after the assembly—that this man, who had insulted all the Bennet daughters, and had particularly singled out Lizzy—knew something. They swore to find out what he knew.
Mr Bingley had arranged for an introduction to Mr Bennet after church on Sunday, and asked permission from the father of the angelic Miss Bennet to visit his family. He indicated that Mr Darcy planned to accompany him the following morning, if it was convenient. Once the two sleuths had discussed this bit of intelligence, Mary suggested they implement a strategy to extract information from Mr Darcy.
“Papa, you know I often disapprove of your verbal jousting, especially with new acquaintances, but I think our situation requires strong measures. I think you should lob a battery of Bennet’s barbs on the unsuspecting Mr Darcy, and I will watch his reaction. If we are lucky, you will cause him to become befuddled and perhaps spill something… and I do not mean his tea.”
Mr Bennet gave his daughter a sardonic smile. “Are you sure you are my daughter, Mary? How can I rest easy you are not an evil Doppelganger inhabiting her body? However, I must admit, whoever you are, your plan is diabolically clever.”
Mary put her hands on her hips and glared at her father. “Papa, take back that my plan is diabolical. My plan is righteous. Mr Darcy insulted our Lizzy, and I am sure he knows something about why she lost her joy. I am not afraid of him just because he is the son-in-law and nephew to William’s patroness. I am not in awe of his great estate or his lovely, tale
nted sister, for I have Longbourn and four most lovely and talented sisters. Maybe I do envy his beautiful children a bit, but my time will come soon.” Mary’s glare turned to glee. “Papa, let us be of one mind. When he arrives, we will put our plan in motion… the truth will out.”
Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy arrived for their visit mid-morning, and Mr Darcy asked for a conference with Mr Bennet. The request was granted, and he was shown into Mr Bennet’s study. When he arrived, Mary was reading Rousseau’s Confessions aloud to her father.
Mr Bennet, despite his impaired eyesight, was quite certain Mr Darcy looked disheartened when he saw Lizzy was not in the room. His eyes had surreptitiously darted around the study when he first entered. “Ah, Mr Darcy, I was expecting you. All of my daughters who attended the assembly and Mr Reynolds told me you planned to come to apologize to me and my daughter, Elizabeth. Unfortunately, my second-oldest daughter has sent herself on an errand. I think perhaps she might be avoiding you.”
Darcy found it hard to imagine that Miss Elizabeth was particularly perturbed by his remarks. Despite her occasional haunted eyes, she seemed to be a resilient soul. If anything, he thought perhaps she might find it humorous that he had made such a fool of himself. Her reason for avoiding him must have to do with fear of exposure of their conspiracy. Surely she knew he would never do anything to hurt his daughter… or her. They had made a bargain, and he always honoured his obligations.
Miss Mary poured him some tea, and he settled into a comfortable chair close to Mr Bennet’s desk.
Mr Bennet could smell fear coming from the man in front of him. “I am surprised that Elizabeth has been discomposed by the incident. She is quite used to being gossiped about, and it usually rolls off her like water off a duck’s back. When and where exactly did you meet my daughter? Was it in Derbyshire?”
Darcy without thinking said, “No, in L… “He stopped mid sentence, checked himself and said, “Hmm… I have never met your daughter, sir.”
The first thing that popped into Mary’s mind at his fumbled response was that something was rotten in the state of Denmark. She chuckled to herself and seemed pleased she was in a Shakespeare mood this morning. Her father discreetly glared in her direction and Mary stopped her musings.
“I understand from my wife, you have a grand estate in Derbyshire? My daughter spent a number of months there five years ago. Are you sure you did not happen to meet? If you did, that might explain why she is avoiding you.”
Mr Darcy felt heat radiate upwards to his scalp and perspiration began. Would they notice the moisture as it soaked his neck cloth? He was not good at disguise, which was the foremost reason he hated it so much. He relied on his only skill in these situations… he made his face into a mask.
Mary noticed Mr Darcy looked startled momentarily at Mr Bennet’s comment. He soon composed his face into nothingness, but Mary also noticed beads of sweat form on his forehead. She was pleased her father was unsettling this proud man.
Before he could think of a reply to Mr Bennet’s question, Miss Elizabeth’s father was again on the attack. “Mr Darcy, if, as you say, you do not know my daughter, am I to assume you make it a practice to insult strangers when you go into new country?”
Darcy knew he had to regain his balance and make his apology. The sooner he was out of this man’s presence, the safer Miss Elizabeth and Bethany were from exposure. He had a responsibility to both. He forced himself to smile, “Mr Bennet, you are justified in your humorous censure of my poor manners, but in my defence, I do not make a habit of insulting anybody; and I am doubly mortified that my slight was directed at someone I do not know.” Mr Darcy’s eyes flickered with remorse. He thought to himself that the opposite was true. He was, in fact, doubly mortified because he insulted the woman who populated his dreams. At that moment, he needed to find her. He could never tell her he dreamed of her, but perhaps he could assure her he did not find her less than tolerable. “I also went along with another’s remark diminishing the beauty of the rest of your daughters. For that I am most heartily sorry as well. My only excuse is that I am very uncomfortable in social situations, and I was missing my children and my sister. Your daughters are in fact quite deserving of their reputation as the most beautiful in the neighbourhood.”
“You are correct, Mr Darcy. My daughters are each uniquely beautiful. They do all share beautiful hair and beautiful eyes, but beyond that… ” Even with his poor vision, he felt certain that Mr Darcy looked as though he was remembering something. He decided to try a little humour. “There was a time six years ago that I routinely used to say they all had more hair than wit—but not now. They have all proved me wrong and each has their own special qualities.” When his prey said nothing in comment, he turned the topic. “And your wife, Mr Darcy… what of your wife?”
“I lost her almost four years ago when my son, Lewis, was born.”
“You said children. How many more do you have?”
“I have a daughter, Bethany, who is one year older than my son.”
“Why did you not bring them with you?”
“My sister was feeling a bit despondent, and my daughter wanted to try to cheer her. She felt I was a hindrance to my sister’s disposition improving. Bethany is keeping her aunt occupied by having her teach her to play the pianoforte and plan her birthday party. We are having a great celebration, as she will turn five on the 10th of December.”
“That is my Lizzy’s birthday; although she will most assuredly, not allow us to have any celebration. Ever since she returned from Derbyshire, she eschews all fuss for her birthday. Sometimes she acts as though it is the saddest day of the year. Personally, I do not understand her reluctance. She is still a bit young to be concerned about being old; and she cannot be afraid of the old maid epithet, since she herself declares to anyone who will listen that she will never marry. She is but turning one and twenty this year.”
Mr Darcy momentarily looked surprised at this revelation. He had no idea that it had been her birthday the day Bethany was born. In an attempt to recover from his shocked reaction, he decided to distract Mr Bennet from his probing by describing his children. “Lewis looks a great deal like me. He is a very happy little boy, who is always laughing. He even laughs when he falls down. He has only recently begun talking with any skill.” He noticed Mr Bennet was enjoying his depiction of Lewis. “For more than a year, only his sister could understand him, and she did all his speaking for him. Bethany is the opposite; she said her first words before she was one, and she has been speaking full sentences since she was two. She reads and speaks both English and French, and she is developing into a skilled chess player. She likes to win. Her looks favour her mother more than me.” Darcy was pleased he was able to say the last without guilt registering on his face. He was anxious to see Miss Elizabeth to verify the resemblance. He struggled to keep the annoyance at her absence from registering.
“Your daughter reminds me of Lizzy at her age. She also spoke and read French and English, and I taught her to play chess at four. She has developed into a formidable opponent. The hallmark of her game is that she never lets her opponent know her strategy until she makes her move. Mr Bennet paused in his torture and sipped his tea. He had one more gambit to put into play in his verbal chess game with Mr Darcy. “I was very pleased last Easter to meet your housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds. She also said she did not know my daughter but seemed to bond with her very rapidly.”
Darcy’s mouth fell open, and he was at a loss how to recover from this latest foray by Mr Bennet. He stared at his daughter’s grandfather, and hoped she would not be able to unsettle him quite so easily as she matured. Since her birth, he had seen nothing of the Earl or Edmund in Bethany, but ten minutes in this man’s company, and he could see much that his daughter had inherited.
Darcy feared Mr Bennet suspected something. It definitely appeared he was on a fact-gathering mission. However, if he had hard evidence, he was quite sure he would accuse him of something. His inability to regulate his exp
ressions had certainly created suspicion but he had not divulged any substance of the conspiracy. He thought of a way to redirect their conversation. “So how are you finding Rousseau’s Confessions?”
Mr Bennet studied the man in front of him. Deciding he was not going to extract any substantive admission, he took pity on him and decided to cease Bennet’s barrage. “I am finding it quite intriguing. He is most honest and does not seem to feel the necessity to hide his failings. Mary is reading it to me because Elizabeth became disenchanted with Rousseau after reading of his placing all five of his illegitimate children in orphanages. She said that his action was practically a death sentence for the children. It has significantly reduced her admiration for his theories.”
Mr Darcy tried to control his expression, but he knew that his face had once again betrayed his innermost thoughts.
Mr Bennet, for his part, was amazed that this innocent discussion of Rousseau had somehow unnerved Mr Darcy. He and Mary would have to analyze their conversation and try to make some sense of his reactions.
At that moment, John Reynolds knocked, entered and asked Mr Darcy to ride with him, Mr Bingley, Miss Bennet and Miss Catherine to tour Longbourn and the brickworks. Darcy was never so relieved to be out of anyone’s presence in his life.
Darcy hoped they would happen upon Miss Elizabeth somewhere on the property, but he was not to be in luck. Miss Catherine told him shortly after their ride began that she was almost positive her sister had gone to visit Charlotte Forster and her children. Lydia had gone to the militia encampment for certain, and Elizabeth had most likely gone with her to visit as well. She suspected they were helping Charlotte plan a party at Lucas Lodge on Thursday in honour of Lizzy’s goddaughter’s birthday. Sir William was inviting the Netherfield party, and the merriment would include dancing and cards for the adults and games and activities for the children. Lizzy would be called upon to entertain the children.