A Quest for Mr Darcy

by Cassandra Grafton

  Meeting the colonel’s eye across the room, Darcy narrowed his gaze. Unless he was mistaken, his cousin was enjoying every moment of this!

  Elizabeth was thankful for the seating arrangements, for she did not think she could be very sensible around Mr Darcy. The effect he was having upon her was profound.

  ‘We hope things are to your liking, Miss Elizabeth.’ Olivia offered her a plate and laid a napkin across her lap with a flourish. ‘We did not wish for a formal seating plan, though Mrs Reynolds kindly offered to have a table set up.’

  ‘No indeed,’ added Viola as she joined her sister. ‘This is much more enjoyable, is it not?’

  ‘Indeed it is!’ Elizabeth accepted some delicately cut sandwiches for her plate, and as Olivia turned to offer the same to her brother, she glanced across the rug to where Mr Darcy sat in quiet conversation with Jane. They were both smiling, so whatever they spoke of must please them, and for a moment, she wished—

  ‘Miss Elizabeth?’

  With a start, Elizabeth looked to her own companion, smiling apologetically.

  ‘Forgive me, Mr Bingley; my attention is wandering. Your sisters have done us proud today.’ She gestured towards the spread of dishes on the rug.

  Bingley laughed. ‘Mrs Reynolds tells me they have plagued the cook no end these past few days with their requests. The young footmen, on the other hand, are vastly relieved by the alteration in the weather and being excused from carrying everything up the hill from the carriage ride!’

  Elizabeth laughed too. ‘I do not blame them.’

  ‘And your sister, Miss Elizabeth—she is fully recovered, I trust?’

  Elizabeth’s gaze followed that of the gentleman to where Jane sat with Mr Darcy.

  ‘Indeed, sir. As you see.’

  ‘Yes, she looks well—very well, indeed.’ He turned back, an air of uncertainty about him. ‘I understand from Sir Charles Seymour you and your family are to attend the ball this coming Tuesday?’

  ‘We are.’ Elizabeth glanced in Mr Darcy’s direction again, only to find his gaze upon her, and she quickly turned away, willing colour not to fill her cheeks. ‘And will we have the pleasure of seeing you there, sir? We spent an enjoyable hour with Lady Araminta earlier today, but she made no mention of other guests.’ Elizabeth smiled ruefully. ‘I do not anticipate us being acquainted with many of them.’

  ‘Then I will take it upon myself to protect you and your sister from the masses.’ Bingley had lost his uneasy look. ‘Would it be...’ he hesitated, then shook his head. ‘Forgive my bumbling, ma’am. I was wondering whether it would be appropriate to ask your sister for a set?’

  His gaze drifted across the room again, but this time Elizabeth did not follow it. She found she could be much more herself if she was not looking at a certain gentleman.

  ‘I can answer for my sister in many respects, Mr Bingley, but though it is true we have no names on our dance cards, I cannot say whom she might be inclined to stand up with.’ Elizabeth smiled as he turned back. ‘I think, sir, you had best ask the question of the lady herself.’

  ‘Yes—yes, of course.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I did not wish her to feel under an obligation to pass a half hour with me in such a way. From my memories of Miss Bennet, she is kind and generous-hearted and, even if it were against her inclination, she would accept the dance rather than risk offending. I am right, am I not?’

  ‘She is indeed of such a nature. But,’ Elizabeth hesitated; was it not best to be open? ‘My sister is much altered of late, Mr Bingley. This past year has brought many changes, not least a confidence I have never seen in her before. She will be honest with you, of that I am certain.’

  ‘Then as soon as we are released from under my sisters’ direction, I shall speak to her.’

  ~o0o~

  The conversation ebbed and flowed around the room as the guests indulged in the fine offerings provided by Pemberley’s kitchen. Olivia and Viola were barely still for a moment, keen to serve their guests by their own hand and, being garrulous, barely stopping to draw breath in their conversation as they flitted from one pairing to another. Eventually, however, they settled, side by side, on two large cushions placed on the floor by Georgiana and the colonel, a plate resting in each of their laps.

  Barely had they taken their first bite of the fare, however, when Mrs Reynolds approached with a question over dessert.

  ‘Remain as you are, girls, for we are all much forwarder than you.’ Georgiana got to her feet and turned to follow the housekeeper from the orangery, and the twins munched happily on their food, satisfied with all they saw. Olivia’s eyes travelled around the room, resting finally on her brother and Elizabeth Bennet. Then, she turned to her sister.

  ‘Behold Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Charles, Viola. They look well together, do they not? I wonder if he has asked her for a set yet? He was so delighted to have been invited to the ball, was he not?’

  Viola nodded. ‘They make a fine couple, indeed, and they do seem to be going along rather nicely.’

  ‘Aha! Now I comprehend the intricacies of your seating design, ladies!’

  Turning around, both girls looked up at the gentleman seated behind them. ‘Colonel Fitzwilliam! We had forgot you were there!’

  ‘You must not tell a soul, Colonel!’ Viola pleaded. ‘We could not help but see how well suited the ladies are to our brother and Mr Darcy, and we are certain they must be in want of husbands.’

  ‘I am intrigued.’ The colonel put aside his empty plate and dragged the cushion from his seat to the floor, where he sat cross-legged opposite the twins. He looked from Olivia to Viola, then laughed. ‘So am I to understand you are both indulging in the making of matches?’

  Olivia nodded enthusiastically. ‘We realised from the first moment we met Miss Bennet and her sister they might be in need of their own establishments.’

  ‘We have made it our mission to assist them,’ piped up Viola.

  ‘Though we have made no progress before today—’

  ‘As we are little able to direct them, but—’

  ‘The picnic was inspired, was it not?’ Olivia grinned.

  ‘Look how well it has worked out!’ Viola waved an arm about the room. Then, she frowned. ‘Why do you smirk so, sir?’

  The colonel turned around and pulled Viola’s sketchbook from beside his chair. He opened it up and flipped through the pages. ‘You are a talented artist, Miss Viola. You have captured more than you know.’

  Olivia and Viola exchanged an excited look before staring eagerly at him. ‘Is it the ghost? Did Viola somehow draw something from our adventure the other night that has thus far escaped us?’

  With a bark of laughter, the colonel shook his head. ‘No ghost, I am afraid. You must learn to interpret what you have created from what your eye has seen, young lady. Look.’

  Viola leaned a little closer to see which drawing he had selected. ‘It is Mr Darcy.’ She looked up and frowned. ‘What is this to do with our brother and Miss Elizabeth Bennet?’

  Olivia, however, put a hand to her mouth, then tugged her sister’s sleeve. ‘Look, Viola,’ she hissed, and both her sister and the colonel followed her gaze to their right where Darcy sat with Jane Bennet. His attention was not on the lady at his side, who was sipping her tea; it was most fixedly on something across the room, and as both twins followed the line of his gaze, the colonel coughed.

  ‘Do you see?’ He tapped a finger on the same sketch of Darcy he had shown to his cousin the day before. ‘Was he not looking at the same lady when you captured his countenance?’

  There was silence for a moment as the girls studied the drawing, then looked again to Darcy. He had resumed his conversation with Jane Bennet now, but his gaze seemed unable to avoid returning to the same thing: Elizabeth, laughing with his friend opposite them.

  There was a gasp from Olivia. ‘Viola, we have erred! It would appear Mr Darcy is quite taken with Miss Elizabeth, not her sister.’

  Viola sighed. ‘Though I admi
re Mr Darcy, I am rather sad. What of Charles? He is in need of a wife, and if we were to guide him, she would be much more to our taste, I am sure.’

  Olivia sighed too, but then she gasped again. ‘Georgiana!’

  Viola stared at her sister, but the colonel almost choked on his tea. ‘Now, girls—’

  ‘Oh, do you not see, Colonel, how perfect it would be? We are already like sisters; how fine it would be if we were to become so by marriage!’

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  ‘Your sister is a credit to you, Mr Darcy.’

  Georgiana had returned, followed by two footmen wheeling a trolley laden with sweet things.

  ‘You are kind to say so, Miss Bennet. She lacked confidence for a long time, being inherently shy by nature. Our travels were of great benefit to her, but I do believe the twins have also been an influence.’

  A whoop of laughter, quickly hushed, came from where Olivia and Viola were seated on their cushions, and Darcy glanced over. His cousin was grinning widely and getting to his feet to resume his seat. ‘Though thankfully, not too great an influence!’ He smiled at Jane. ‘The household is going to seem all too quiet when they go on to school.’

  ‘They are up to some mischief now, I suspect.’ Jane’s gaze had returned to the twins, who appeared to be engaged in some energetic whispering. The colonel was sitting back in his seat, smirking across at Darcy, but they did not have long to speculate on what the twins discussed.

  Scrambling to their feet, Olivia and Viola announced to the room in general a new plan—there would be a change of placement before dessert was served. A brief moment of chaos ensued as they re-directed people, and Darcy watched in bemusement as Jane Bennet was seated with his cousin, Georgiana with Bingley and Elizabeth brought to his own side. Mr Bennet and Mrs Annesley, though the twins had paused to speak to them, they seemed content to leave as they were.

  Conscious everyone else in the room had fallen naturally into conversation, Darcy cleared his throat, deploring how his brain seemed to have emptied of words in an instant. His cousin cast him a brief glance across the room, and he threw him a desperate look, which was duly ignored as Fitzwilliam turned his attention back to Jane Bennet.

  Elizabeth seemed to be looking anywhere but at him, but all of a sudden, she turned to face him. ‘Mr Bingley tells me he has been invited to the ball Sir Charles is hosting on Tuesday.’

  ‘Er, yes, indeed.’ He glanced at Elizabeth, but she had turned away again. ‘Your sister informed me you are to attend—all of you, that is.’

  ‘We are.’ Elizabeth’s gaze seemed to have settled upon Bingley across the rug, and she frowned. ‘Your friend seems... I am not clear if he is hesitant or reluctant to approach Jane. I suppose it must be the former, for if the latter, he is under no obligation.’

  Darcy was unsure himself why Bingley had begun his reacquaintance with Jane Bennet in such a cautious manner, but he suspected it was more to do with considering the lady’s wishes than his own. He could not blame him; it was entirely his own approach towards Elizabeth.

  ‘I believe he thinks very highly of Miss Bennet, yet his modest nature will likely cause him to temper his instinct to resume the friendship they once had. Having been persuaded of your sister’s indifference...’ Darcy paused; would the guilt never leave him? ‘Bingley is lately wary of misinterpreting things—my doing, sadly; hence he proceeds with excessive care.’

  ‘He wishes to ask Jane to stand up with him at the ball.’ Darcy looked at Elizabeth, and this time she met and held his gaze, though colour was seeping into her cheeks. ‘Do you—are you to attend, sir?’ Then, she stopped, an appalled look filling her countenance.

  Was she wondering why he had not asked her the same question—to dance with him? He had yet to even commit to attending the ball, but if...

  ‘Mr Darcy! Miss Elizabeth!’

  Olivia and Viola arrived bearing a platter filled with a selection of tiny cakes and delicate pastries.

  Taking a small plate from the obliging footman attending the girls, Elizabeth selected a pastry as Darcy did likewise. He had no appetite at all, but he would not hurt the twins’ feelings, for they were clearly so proud of their offerings.

  ‘Do you enjoy yourself still, Miss Elizabeth?’ Olivia looked searchingly at the lady.

  ‘It is an excellent picnic, Miss Olivia. I do not think I have ever been to one so perfectly organised.’

  Beaming, Olivia turned to Darcy, and he smiled at both of the girls. ‘Exemplary in its execution, ladies, for which you should be very proud.’

  ‘We are trying not to be too proud, Mr Darcy, for it might give us an air of complacency, and as that is reminiscent of our elder sister, we avoid it at all costs!’ Viola smiled impishly, glancing at Elizabeth before returning her blue gaze to Darcy. ‘And you, sir? Do you enjoy yourself? Is your present company not even more satisfying and delicious than the fare?’

  A choked laugh emanated from Elizabeth, and Darcy could not help but smile at the expectant faces before him. ‘Er—yes; you have kindly bestowed upon me the best of dining partners this afternoon.’

  With the twins happily skipping with their platter over to where Mr Bennet and Mrs Annesley sat, Darcy released a slow breath. Had he spoken well? Had he been clear in his pleasure in his present situation, despite the undercurrents that lay beneath the surface? Did Elizabeth even feel them as he did?

  Before the conversation could resume, however, Jane Bennet approached them and, looking around, Darcy realised there had been a general breaking up of the small groupings as the party indulged in the sweets on offer.

  He got to his feet, and Elizabeth joined him.

  ‘Forgive me, sir. Would it be possible to speak to Lizzy for a moment?’

  ‘Of course; here, take my seat.’ Darcy gestured towards his chair, and as Jane settled into it, he excused himself from the ladies and walked over to talk to Mr Bennet, who was now studying a sculpture against the far wall. He glanced back as he reached the gentleman, but Elizabeth was listening intently to whatever her sister was saying and did not look up.

  Darcy had barely engaged Mr Bennet in conversation, however, when he realised the gentleman’s attention was not with him, and turning about, he was surprised to see Elizabeth’s rapid approach.

  ‘Forgive my intrusion, Papa.’ She turned to Darcy. ‘Might I beg for a further moment of your time, sir?’

  Stunned she had come to seek his company and not her father’s, and aware of the gentleman’s assessing stare, Darcy knew not what to say.

  ‘It is a most pressing matter, Mr Darcy.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Mr Bennet frowned. ‘Is anything wrong, Lizzy?’

  Elizabeth smiled, though it seemed a little tremulous. ‘I am perfectly well, Papa. There is just something I wish to speak to Mr Darcy about.’

  ‘If you will excuse us, sir.’ Darcy bowed to Mr Bennet, and turned to lead Elizabeth back across the room, unsure of her purpose, but sensing she did not wish to be within earshot.

  Once they had reached the full-length windows overlooking the gardens, a little distant from the rest of the company, he turned to face her.

  ‘I am at your service, ma’am.’

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘You recall my friend, Mrs Collins, sir—Miss Lucas, as was?’

  Darcy inclined his head, unsure where the conversation was going.

  ‘I received a letter from her a few days ago. She was making some stay with family in Meryton.’ Elizabeth paused, and Darcy held his breath. Was this what he thought it might be? ‘She wrote to me of something quite singular: a beautiful floral tribute had been anonymously placed on our family’s graves there.’

  Darcy threw his cousin an exasperated look across the distance between them, but he was in discussion with Bingley now and had his back to them. Then, he frowned. He had not seen the colonel in any length of conversation with Elizabeth today, so—

  ‘She wrote further of there being a man in regimentals seen in the district
at about the same time.’

  Elizabeth met his gaze firmly, a question in her eyes, and Darcy straightened his shoulders.

  ‘There are many who wear such uniforms during the present unrest in Europe.’

  ‘Most assuredly; yet our minds turned with little difficulty towards a mutual—and unpleasant—acquaintance.’

  ‘If Wickham were in funds, he would not spend it on flowers for the dead. He was only interested in investing where there might be some surety of a return.’

  ‘I will own to having thought the same, but there seemed no other explanation.’ Elizabeth shrugged lightly. ‘Until now, of course.’

  Damn Fitzwilliam! ‘My cousin has confessed.’ He threw another frustrated look at the colonel’s back. ‘I forbade him from speaking of it to you.’

  ‘Then he did his duty, sir; he spoke to my sister, not myself, and she chose to enlighten me directly.’

  They stared at each other for a moment, and Darcy read confusion in Elizabeth’s countenance.

  ‘Why did you do it, Mr Darcy? And why did you not wish me... us, to know of it?’

  Darcy drew in a short breath. ‘It was an impulse; a desire to ease your sadness over not being able to go there. Yet there was a flaw in my reasoning, for there was no way to let you know it had been done without it seeming—’

  ‘As though you sought gratitude?’

  ‘Precisely.’

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘You have it, all the same, sir. I have no intention of withdrawing it, and when they know of your actions, my father and sister will wish to express their gratitude also.’

  ‘Miss Elizabeth,’ Darcy held her gaze, as his heart thumped in his chest. He should do this; he should say it. ‘If you will thank me, then let it be for yourself alone. The wish of giving happiness to you, I shall not attempt to deny; but your family owes me nothing.’ He paused, then added softly. ‘Much as I respect them, I thought only of you.’