Earning Darcy's Trust

by Jennifer Joy

  “I should say so. You were just a girl when it happened. It was all over the newspapers and read more like a dramatic play than an article in the periodical.”

  “What happened?”

  “The murder, of course. It happened when Mr. Darcy, the son, was fifteen or sixteen. He must be a full-grown man now. His sister would be about Lydia or Kitty’s age, I think.”

  Elizabeth let her aunt sort through the facts in her mind, patiently waiting for more details in whichever scrambled order they came.

  “They went out riding on their property, Mr. Darcy and his father, when it happened. It turns out that a tenant’s wife did it. He, the tenant, had been a good-for-nothing sort of fellow and had died in an accident after imbibing in excess. She blamed Mr. Darcy for her lot in life and acted in a passion. She later confessed when the son of the land steward— I cannot remember his name, though it is on the tip of my tongue. It shall come to me later… He found her with the gun still smoking in her hand and powder marks on her dress. The father died instantly. Mr. Darcy’s mother, a lady both in name and in birth, went against popular opinion and had the family sent away instead of hanging the woman.”

  “Did the whole family leave?”

  “As far as I can remember, though I suppose some could have stayed had they wished to. Can you imagine any of them wanting to stay after their mother had committed such a horrendous crime? They would forever live in the shadow of her evil act, though they say she was out of her mind.”

  “What a tragedy for both families.” Elizabeth’s family had many faults, and they drove her to distraction at times, but she loved them and realized how fortunate she was to be able to see them every day. She would remind herself of that the next time Mother fussed about her single state.

  “Did he look like a tragic figure?” asked Aunt with a sigh.

  Her mind full of the grievances against her sisters and parents, it took a moment for Elizabeth to remember whom Aunt referred to.

  “Mr. Darcy?” She thought for a moment, conjuring up his face in her mind. He was undeniably handsome. “I suppose there was something melancholy in his eyes. It did strike me at the time that he seemed overly serious. Given his past, I can understand why that may be.”

  “What of his appearance, Lizzy?”

  Of course. Appearance before character. She should have known better. “He is handsome. Very tall, wide shoulders; dark, curly hair, and a strong chin.” Elizabeth wished she had not seated herself so near the fire. The heat in the room was unbearable. She fanned her face with her mangled bonnet.

  “I wonder if he is a guest of Mr. Bingley’s. I know from one of the servants that he is expected today along with his sisters, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. I heard mention of another gentleman and his sister joining their party, but I could not get their name. I shall have to let Sir William know so that he can invite them to the assembly. I do hope the gentlemen at Netherfield Park enjoy dancing and do not consider themselves too grand to attend a local event.”

  Elizabeth would not hold her breath. It would shock her to see someone like Mr. Darcy mixing with lower classes at the monthly village ball.

  Aunt Phillips insisted that Elizabeth use her carriage to return home. Now that there were single gentlemen about, such precautions must be taken. One must never let her guard down lest another lady swoop in and make a conquest in her place.

  As much as Elizabeth preferred walking, one look outside had her accepting the offer of the carriage.

  She could hardly wait to tell Jane about the Darcys.

  The Darcy coach pulled into the gravel drive that led to Bingley’s new home, Netherfield Park. It was a large house of three stories and very well positioned between the low rolling hills surrounding it.

  Servants with umbrellas ran out to assist him and Georgiana up to the house where a grinning Bingley awaited in the doorway.

  “Welcome to my humble home,” Bingley said as they drew closer. “Let us go to the fire in the drawing room, and I will send for something to warm you.”

  Their things had arrived earlier, and their rooms were already prepared to receive their guests. Darcy changed into a dry coat and returned downstairs. The cream colored walls and tall windows with light curtains stood in bright contrast to the dreary clouds surrounding them outside.

  Mr. Hurst dozed at one end of a couch while Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley played cards on a table at the other end. Bingley wandered about the room, inspecting his property with all the pride of a proprietor of a new home. Georgiana sat in the chair closest to the warm fire. She kept looking at the pianoforte situated across from her. She had not played in a long time.

  “Bingley, how do you find your home?” asked Darcy.

  “It is everything I had hoped to have in a house. Enough rooms to invite guests and a hall large enough to organize a ball. The view from these windows is impressive. Look! I have a lake!”

  Darcy followed in the direction of Bingley’s pointed finger and, sure enough, there was a lake. Not nearly the size of the fish pond at Pemberley, but a lake all the same.

  “The decor is in desperate need of refreshing. Charles does not seek my opinion, though I have many ideas which would bring this drab dwelling to the height of fashion. We could give each room a theme…”

  Bingley cringed as Miss Bingley detailed her ideas for Egyptian entryways and Roman halls. Darcy bit his lips to keep from smiling.

  “Would you like a tour of the house?” asked Bingley.

  “Miss Darcy has perfect taste in all things fashionable. I bow before your superior opinion.” Miss Bingley held out her hand to Georgiana and curtsied.

  “You flatter me too much, Miss Bingley. I have yet to design a room, preferring to keep the decorations my mother chose in Pemberley.”

  “What a joy it would be to make over an entire house as large as Pemberley.” Miss Bingley clapped her hands together in glee, oblivious to the look of horror on Georgiana’s face. Like Georgiana, Darcy fancied leaving Pemberley just as Mother had left it.

  Bingley suggested they start at the top of the house and work their way down. They were halfway up the stairs, discussing the faded state of the carpet running up the middle of the marble steps, when Georgiana’s maid rushed after her.

  “Pardon me, miss, you left this in the carriage.” She handed Georgiana her leather diary.

  “How thoughtless of me. Thank you.”

  The maid left and Georgiana looked at Darcy with wide eyes. Darcy did not know precisely what she had written on the pages, but he could guess. The idea of someone reading it scared her. It scared Darcy too.

  “You keep a diary? I recently began one, but cannot fathom what to write about. I am sure that it is destined to remain blank out here in the country where nothing happens.” Miss Bingley continued up the stairs, moving the group along with her.

  Chapter 9

  Over the next two weeks, several gentlemen in the area called on Bingley and his household. Amongst them was Mr. Bennet. Bingley said he came alone and was a contemplative, intelligent sort of man. Darcy anticipated meeting the gentleman. If his conversation proved to be as witty as his daughter’s, then the evening would not drag on endlessly.

  There was to be an assembly held in Meryton that evening. If it depended on Darcy, he would spend a quiet evening home. He did not like dancing with strangers. Afterward, he would have to endure the gossip of how many times he had danced with which lady and whom he might choose as his wife to help him manage his large estate and spend his fortune. The ladies would flirt shamelessly, and their mothers would manipulate affairs to their advantage, doing their best to entrap Darcy, if possible. They did not care for him— only his money. It had been the same routine at every social gathering since he could remember, and he expected nothing less that night.

  Miss Bingley had expressed her distaste for the event during the day. Public assemblies, with their mingling of all social classes and age groups, were not to her liking.

  Georgi
ana did not say much, but Darcy sensed her excitement. Though not yet out in society, her presence was expected as it was common for entire families— young and old alike— to attend. If that was the standard set by the Master of Ceremonies, then she would make an appearance. She thought it good preparation for her coming out in London the coming spring and even suggested that he let her dance. He agreed so long as her partner was a known acquaintance, under the age of ten, or over the age of seventy.

  No matter how unpleasant the company— Darcy did not hold high expectations— he would behave like the gentleman he strove to be.

  The hall was a simple affair: one large, rectangular room with wooden benches surrounding the dance floor. The music had been playing when they entered, but it stopped mid-song as they walked in. If he felt awkward entering a room of strangers before, he felt it more so now. A hush fell over the crowd, and voices dropped to whispers.

  Sir William Lucas, the Master of Ceremonies, rushed up to Bingley and exchanged bows. It was enough to break the silence and resume the music. Family after family streamed up to them. The same gentlemen who had called on Bingley over the past fortnight eagerly awaited their turn to present their families, or rather, their daughters. There was a noted lack of gentlemen present, and Darcy inwardly groaned. He had hoped to escape notice by standing against a wall and retrieving lemonade for Georgiana occasionally, but it would be impossible to escape a few dances without being abominably rude.

  Darcy chanced a look about the room. It was warm inside from the abundance of dancing bodies. He tried to recall the last country dance he had been to. The clothing was vastly different from a London society ball. The ladies wore simple frocks in various colors. The gentlemen had polished their best shoes, but there were no extravagant waistcoats or intricately complicated ties in their cravats. Laughter and chatter sparkled like the champagne which would have been present at a more elegant gathering. Though that particular beverage was absent, the refreshment table, just visible through an archway to the right, held many more offerings and would have put the table at Almack’s Assembly Rooms to shame.

  “Look, William. There is a boy dancing with a lady. He cannot be over ten years of age and look at how graceful he is. He must get much more practice than me.” Her excitement grew as her eyes scanned the room. Gripping his arm more tightly, she tugged on his coat. “A family full of girls near my age. I bet they are allowed to dance.”

  Bingley saw them too, his gaze settling on a young lady who was by far the handsomest in the room. She walked arm in arm with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She wore a dark green dress and looked like she had walked out of an enchanted forest with the sprigs of baby’s breath in her hair.

  Sir William performed introductions. Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia.

  The two youngest girls looked to be close to Georgiana in age, but he would not encourage their friendship. They giggled into each other’s ear and flirted openly with any gentleman who caught their eye. Miss Lydia even shoved Miss Kitty so that she might brush up against a gentleman walking by.

  Miss Mary was quick to reprove them. She quoted part of one of Fordythe’s sermons to her errant younger sisters. Her manners were rigid and self-righteous.

  Interfering with his appraisal of the young ladies before him, Mrs. Bennet said in a high-pitched voice, “We were overjoyed to hear that Netherfield Park had been let at last— and by a single gentleman of fortune, at that. I suppose you will be expecting several gentleman visitors in the next months?”

  “Mother!” Miss Elizabeth hissed and looked to her father. He did nothing. He was either absorbed in his own thoughts or was contemplating something impressive on the far wall. Darcy followed his gaze, but saw nothing noteworthy. He looked back to find Miss Elizabeth observing him. He did not expect her to hold his gaze like she did. He would have thought she would look down in embarrassment. Her family, through their words and actions, disregarded propriety and she must know how poorly it reflected on her.

  Mrs. Bennet cackled loudly by Bingley, causing Darcy to look away from Miss Elizabeth. Clearly, Mrs. Bennet had a mission to marry off her daughters, and she had her sight set on Bingley. She fawned over him shamelessly and pushed Jane in his direction. Bingley overlooked her plain speech and smiled kindly at Jane, who had the decency to look embarrassed at her mother’s brash conduct.

  Darcy watched Miss Jane Bennet. He would have to keep an eye on her. Bingley’s gullible heart would fall hard for a lady such as she, with her angelic beauty and gentle manners, and he would not allow a manipulating mother to ruin the future of his friend unless the lady proved worthy of his affections.

  Miss Elizabeth, her sister occupied in conversation with the Bingleys, moved closer to Georgiana. She whispered something to her younger sisters, which sent them across the room. They were quick to snatch up dancing partners and join the skipping and hopping crowd in the middle of the room. Good riddance.

  Their actions were not lost on Georgiana, who followed them with her eyes, looking longingly at the dance floor and then askance at Darcy. Of course she would notice that the young ladies of her age were allowed to dance.

  “Mr. Darcy, how good of you to bring your sister to our humble gathering. How do you find Hertfordshire, Miss Darcy?”

  “Other than the incessant rain, I find it charming. You are the Miss Elizabeth my brother nearly trampled outside the inn, are you not?” Georgiana asked, easily changing the subject. She always said things were charming when she was still making up her mind whether she liked them or not. It was both polite and evasive.

  “I am afraid so,” Miss Elizabeth chuckled.

  “My brother is such a gentleman; he worried over your safety all the way from Meryton to Netherfield Park. You were unharmed, I hope?”

  “Thank you for your concern. To tell the rest of the story, I had chosen a straw bonnet to wear that day and it sagged so much, I could not see well. It was as much my fault as Mr. Darcy’s that we collided.” She smiled at Darcy, and he knew at once that no real offense had taken place.

  “I am relieved to know you suffered no injury at my expense. It is not common for a young lady to walk unaccompanied.” To his own ears, it sounded like a scolding. He had best keep his mouth shut.

  “Were you walking alone?” Georgiana asked in awe as she removed her hand from Darcy’s arm.

  “It is such a short distance from my home to the village, I often walk it unaccompanied. Society would frown on me, I know, but I would not give up my freedom only to please others.” She spoke to Georgiana, but her words were clearly for Darcy’s benefit.

  “My brother would never allow me to go anywhere unaccompanied. He did not even want to leave me unaccompanied long enough to fetch my book from the carriage when we were inside the inn.”

  “I believe a young lady should always take care to safeguard her reputation as well as her safety. Danger lurks even in small villages.” What was it about Miss Elizabeth that made him feel the need to defend himself constantly?

  “You are right, sir. I shall take more care.” Her reply was not at all what he had expected.

  She shrugged her seriousness away and said, “Next time I need to visit the circulating library, I shall ask one of my sisters to join me. Or maybe your brother would agree for you and Miss Bingley to accompany me.”

  “I do love books.”

  “How sensible of you. There is precious little else as entertaining to occupy a lady’s time. Only it is earth-shattering to come back to the day realizing I am not really a pirate or a famous artist traveling to exotic places.”

  What an interesting young lady.

  “It is rather dull at times. Do you not ride?”

  “I lack practice and feel much safer on my own two feet.”

  “You have not learned how to ride?” Such a thought was shocking to Georgiana, and she could not keep her surprise quiet.

  “Not well.” Leaning closer to Georgiana, M
iss Elizabeth said, “Truth be told, there are many things I only know how to do at the most mediocre level. There are so many things I should like to try, things I have read about in books and have an idea of, but have no idea how to do.”

  Never before in his life had Darcy heard a young lady admit a deficiency in her accomplishments— especially in his presence. Her honesty was striking.

  “I have the gentlest mare at home. What a pity she is not here for you to ride. I will talk to Mr. Bingley and see if he has a suitable mount.”

  “You are kind, Miss Darcy. I can see how you must make friends easily. Tell me, how does Hertfordshire compare to Derbyshire? I have traveled so little and long to hear about other places.”

  Georgiana described her favorite spots in detail and with passion. In conclusion, she said, “Speaking of my home makes me miss it dearly. I hope you can visit someday.” A worried look crossed her face and she added, “It is lovely here too. It seems a bit warmer and the wind is not quite so harsh. The people we have met have been very kind.”

  “Do not worry yourself. I have lived here my whole life and would love nothing more than to leave. It will always be my home, but I would love to know other areas.”

  Darcy thought better of her for not being overly attached to her family. Thus far, they had done very little to recommend themselves. It was clear to see that Miss Elizabeth, as well as her elder sister, was above them.

  A new song was to begin, and Mrs. Bennet neatly arranged for Bingley to dance with Miss Bennet. When they made it to the center of the dance floor and the rest of their group scattered with them, she turned her attention to Miss Elizabeth standing next to him and Georgiana. He bristled at what he knew would come.

  Before Mrs. Bennet reached them, Miss Elizabeth asked, “Mr. Darcy, might I borrow Miss Darcy for a moment? She has not yet met Sir William’s daughter. Charlotte and I are best friends, and I believe she would be good company. Unlike me, she is the epitome of propriety— without the haughty air which often accompanies it.”