Henry
Page 4
“Papa, no,” she insisted. Then, she figuratively stepped back to review his words. Drat! “Yes, I imagine that is exactly how it would appear, but...” Her chin dropped to her chest. This was everything dreadful.
“Elizabeth, in spite of your intentions being noble, the plain fact is that you have met Mr. Darcy privately, more than once,” his tone was firmer than she recalled him using with her. “The first time it happened was an accident, I imagine. However, the succeeding times were not an accident. Had you returned home, either with or without the dog, you could have waited with the rest of the family for the man to call.” Mr. Bennet rubbed his mouth with his beefy hand, in the same manner Mr. Darcy had done when he was upset. “I would have welcomed him, handed over this Henry, and he would have gone on his way without you needing to converse with him.”
Her heart was almost beating out of her chest. Where she had been confident of his unfailing support, Elizabeth was shocked to hear her father promoting ideas that would give weight to her mother’s constant matchmaking.
“But, the meetings were not planned,” she insisted. “When I walked towards Oakham Mount, I had no intensions of meeting the puppy or Mr. Darcy. Had Henry not run off from his master to see me, I would not have talked to him at all.”
“Ah, so are saying this situation is the sole fault of Henry? A four-legged creature with a much smaller brain than you or me?” Her father’s right brow lifted. “Hmm…I see many flaws in your argument, Lizzy.”
Since the interview was not going as she had expected, she paused to take a breath and clear her mind. Where had she gone wrong? What could she have said differently to win her point? Nothing.
“Lizzy, you have been the child who has the deepest connection to Longbourn. Over the years, I have watched you delight in learning every aspect of the operations of this estate. You are as familiar with the farms, the tenants, and the animals as I am of each of my books. Would that I would be more like you.” He moved from behind his desk to sit in the chair placed next to hers. Taking her hand, he continued, “I, too, know the power the love of an animal has over the heart. The relationship you had with Lu and are currently developing with this Henry, I felt with my boyhood pet, Alfred. He was a magnificent animal. He was my closest companion.”
This revelation stunned her. “But you so easily ignore the animals now.”
“And, did you not as well after Lu died?”
Elizabeth had to honestly admit that she had done exactly as her father had done.
“What am I to do, Papa?” Her confidence upon entering his study had all but disappeared.
“Would it be such a bad thing to be attached to this man?” He gently squeezed her fingers.
“Papa, I beg you.” Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat as panic filled her extremities. “Mr. Darcy has no interest of a romantic nature in me or anyone else in Hertfordshire. I know this because we spoke of it this morning. He offered friendship, nothing more. I accepted his offer because I, too, have no romantic interest in him.”
Now, it was her father who sighed.
“Elizabeth, there are times when circumstances mixed with a bad choice converge to force us down a path we never hoped to walk.” His grip strengthened. “You have been told the story about how your mother and I came to be married.”
She nodded.
“Would you like to hear the truth about how Miss Francine Gardiner became Mrs. Bennet?” He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Memories of over two decades prior must have flooded his thinking as he did not speak for several minutes. When he again looked at her, he said, “I first saw your mother at a dance similar to the assembly in Meryton. She was all that was lovely, and I was enchanted. Nevertheless, I chose caution over desire so danced with her only once.”
Elizabeth had no difficulty imagining her mother flirting to attract a gentleman’s attention. But the idea of her father, who abhorred social occasions, dancing made her smile.
“What happened?” she asked.
His head shook as he exhaled.
“Since I would be visiting the estate of a friend for almost a month, I took Alfred,” Mr. Bennet grinned. “My dog was much more comfortable around strangers than I have ever been, so his curiosity upon meeting new people was a thing of joy to him. Unfortunately, in his enthusiasm, he, in front of witnesses, bumped into Miss Gardiner, who bumped into me.”
“Bumped?”
“She fell into me,” he sighed. “To keep her from landing on the ground, I wrapped my arm around her to catch her.”
“Oh, no,” Elizabeth leaned towards him. “What did she do?”
“She claimed compromise.”
“But…but…you were innocent!” Despite it being her own mother they were speaking of, she was horrified at the conduct of a young woman who thought only of securing a mate.
“You know how our world operates, Lizzy. My honor was engaged, whether I wanted it to be or not.”
“I know, Papa, but…” It was so unfair.
“So, you see, my Lizzy, just as a four-legged furball catapulted your mother and me to the altar, I am afraid little Henry will do the same to you and Mr. Darcy.”
“No!” Elizabeth’s mind spun. “I shall refuse to see Henry anymore. I promise.”
“Those are wise words, Elizabeth. I hope you are sincere,” he admitted. “Should no talk arise, if you were truly unobserved, there may be a chance you can escape the attachment. However, should your mother ever find out…”
“I give you my word.” Elizabeth thrust out her hand for her father to take. From her early years, she had determined to be happy in her choice of husband, something elusive to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. “I have no doubt Mr. Darcy will feel the same.”
Chapter 6
Lady Violet had long known her uncle had vicious tendencies, but to throw her— his own ward—into a situation fraught with peril was beyond the pale.
Her fingers bunched into a fist. Pulling against her restraints, Lady Violet felt no give, no weakness to be taken advantage of to loosen the cords wrapped tightly around her wrists. Glancing at her fellow captive who also had been tossed to the floor, she found him studying each inch of the rough interior making up the walls of the cottage as he struggled to sit upright.
Despite their rough treatment, his good looks were completely intact. She could not say the same of herself. The pale yellow of her gown would be forever streaked with whatever debris had been in the back of the pony cart. Tendrils of her hair had escaped the multitude of pins it took to control her curls. And if she was not mistaken, she had a smear of dirt on the side of her face. There was no justice that he should look so fine and she so rumpled.
The room was bereft of furnishings; the cold black hole of the fireplace offered no welcoming warmth. Tattered curtains of an indeterminate fabric hung to the sides of a lone window allowing minimal light from the foggy morning to seep through the pane. The floor was packed dirt.
She was cold, she was sore from the rough handling, and she was scared.
Lord Goodrich turned his back to her then asked her to do the same to him. Within minutes, she felt his hands against hers, his fingers seeking the knots.
She comprehended his intent. He sought to loosen her ties so she, in turn, could free him. Patience was not a virtue that came naturally to Lady Violet. Scooting around to sit up and work on his bindings as well, she held her hands away from her back, giving him as much access as possible to the knots.
Despite his purpose, when his touch brushed the tender skin on the inside of her wrist, a series of tingles shot up to her elbows and pooled on the inside at that most sensitive spot. Suddenly, taking in one breath after another became an effort. What was happening to her? What was this strange effect Lord Goodrich held over her?
Inhaling slowly to calm herself, she pressed her elbows as close together as she was able, relieving the pull against her bindings. Again, his fingertips stroked against her exposed flesh. Warmth flooded her from head to toe be
fore she was shocked back to reality when a sharp pull against the cord binding her arms loosened.
Before he made another attempt, heavy footsteps approached. When the door opened, she screamed…
“Lizzy.” Her youngest sister burst into her bedroom. “Do put down that silly old book and come with us to Meryton.”
Registering her surprise at Lydia being up early and fully dressed, Elizabeth—her curiosity fully aroused at the unusual conduct of her sister—set the novel aside. “What are you up to?”
Before she responded, Kitty, the next eldest sister and Lydia’s cohort, pushed from behind to step inside Elizabeth’s room.
“Would you come, Lizzy? Papa said we cannot possibly walk to town without ‘some semblance of sanity’ accompanying us.” The two girls giggled. “We were not certain what he meant but concluded it had to do with you and Jane.”
“Where is Jane?”
“She is getting dressed as we speak,” Kitty answered.
Lydia huffed, “Would you hurry? Mary is already dressed, downstairs, and is on her second sermon.”
Throwing back the bedclothes, Elizabeth escaped to her closet to don her warmest dress. The chill of the morning had left frost decorating the corners of her windows. Grateful it was on the outside rather than the inside, which was prone to happen in the dead of winter, she realized she owed her sisters a debt of gratitude. She could still get in her walk without fear of running into Henry and Mr. Darcy.
Her fingers stilled at the third button from the top. She should feel relief, Elizabeth knew she should. However, a solid weight of sadness settled upon her slim shoulders. Henry would be missed. And, Mr. Darcy? Even though his rudeness had at first repelled her, his manners had improved upon further conversation. He was…
“Lizzy! Do not dawdle.” Lydia raided Elizabeth’s wardrobe with a familiarity unsurprising to her older sister. The youngest Bennet had long earned the reputation for freely pilfering anything she wanted to wear, despite current ownership. Pulling scarves and gloves from inside Elizabeth’s cupboard, she exclaimed with fervor, “Officers!”
With one word, the goal of her sisters was exposed. It was no wonder their father had insisted on them being accompanied. Between Lydia and Kitty, they had two brains, one thought, and no sense.
After grabbing an apple and a scone from the breakfast room, the five ladies hurried towards the farming community one mile from Longbourn.
Turning onto the main thoroughfare, they casually strolled towards the haberdashery. Approaching them from the opposite direction were three men, two in the uniform of the militia. While the officers looked impressive in their official garments, it was the third man who captured Elizabeth’s eye.
Both Lydia and Kitty jumped up and down in childish delight at spying the gentlemen. Jane smiled. Mary frowned. Elizabeth kept her feet on the ground. He certainly was handsome. But he was not Mr. Darcy.
Where had that come from? She was not attracted to the gentleman from Derbyshire, was she? Genuinely? Elizabeth humphed, which she covered with a delicate cough.
Deciding discretion was needed, she took a closer look at the man accompanying the officers. He was tall, broad of shoulders, with blond hair and lively, blue eyes. His chiseled jaw and high cheekbones framed lips that were perfect for…grinning. His sociable nature would make him a willing dance partner at the next gathering. There would be one less lady sitting against the wall, Elizabeth suspected.
How unlike Mr. Darcy. He rarely danced, and his lips were perfect for…Elizabeth blushed, hoping she escaped notice.
When the third man glanced at Kitty and Lydia’s youthful exuberance without even a lift of his brow, his position in Elizabeth’s mind was firmly established. This was a gentleman of fine manners and friendly demeanor—exactly what a man ought to be.
This must have been the man her sisters had met when the officers first arrived in Hertfordshire because he showed no surprise at them displaying their age. If only Elizabeth had not been distracted by her father, she would already have made his acquaintance. As it was, she needed to wait to be presented.
Pleasure surged through her as Mr. Denny began the introductions after discerning that all in the Bennet party were in good health. Elizabeth had been in company with the two officers during the past week so only needed to meet the man she did not recognize. She would enjoy introducing him to her close friend Charlotte Lucas. If he was a man of discernment, which Elizabeth suspected he was, he would recognize Charlotte’s fine qualities and offer friendship as well as a pleasant companion to spend time with. Her father, too, enjoyed being around a man of wit.
“Miss Elizabeth, pray allow me to introduce you to a long-time friend who arrived in Meryton last week to survey our current situation prior to joining the militia. After a brief return to care for business in London, he has decided to fulfill his patriotic duty by joining forces with Captain Carter and myself. We are now on our way to Colonel Forster’s office so the required forms can be signed. This fine fellow is none other than Mr. W…”
A harried yip came from behind her. Elizabeth knew that bark.
What is this? Henry has escaped to Meryton?
Groaning, she allowed the arrival of Henry to interrupt the proceedings. Turning to the puppy, she knelt, catching him before he buried his nose in her skirts. He had been digging, possibly trying to find a burrowing rodent in his favorite field. Mud covered his chest, the sides of his mouth, and his paws. There even hung a small plop of dirt above his right eye.
“Oh, Henry,” Elizabeth spoke as firmly as possible to a ball of fur who was entirely too delighted with her company. “How have you possibly managed to find your way here?”
“What a lively little pup,” the man bent to pat Henry’s head.
Joy warmed her insides. That he would choose to acknowledge a friendly puppy displayed a fineness of character. Yes, he would be a lively addition to the neighborhood Thus, the low growl coming from the dog’s chest shocked Elizabeth. As the man’s fingers dipped closer, the puppy bared his teeth.
“What is wrong with you, Henry?” In a quandary, Elizabeth pulled the puppy into her arms, disregarding the mess. “Calm yourself,” she insisted.
However, the puppy wiggled vigorously until she had to let him down or end up dropping him. Immediately, Henry stood his ground in front of her, barking at the three men.
“I cannot imagine,” she began when Lydia spoke up.
“Wouldn’t you know that Mr. Darcy’s dog would be just like him, grumpy and mean-spirited.”
The man immediately stepped back. “Mr. Darcy? Would that be Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?”
The disdain in his voice made public his abhorrence. Elizabeth’s curiosity was on high alert.
Who was this man?
Taking another step backwards, the man looked from Henry to her. “Pardon me, but I have recalled some unfinished business needing my immediate attention. Pray, excuse me.”
Astounded at the man’s abrupt departure as well as the puppy’s aggression, Elizabeth looked to his companions. They, too, appeared flummoxed. When Henry gave one final bark as a good riddance, the two officers excused themselves to give chase to their friend.
Once they left, Henry turned his full attention to the Bennet girls, fully expecting praise for his grand rescue of the damsels. Being silly girls with generous hearts, Lydia and Kitty gave him his due.
Mary interjected, “…for a living dog is better than a dead lion.”
“What does that even mean?” Lydia asked, irritated. “Who would want a dead lion and why, when everything was going well, are we left standing here with only a puppy for company?”
Elizabeth shook her head at her sister’s conduct as well as her disappointment in not even getting the man’s name. She knew her nature. Frustration was never a friend. Rather, it tended to increase her ire or her desire to get to the bottom of a mystery with the diligence of an aged detective fully embroiled in a perilous plot.
In all of her conversations or interactions with Mr. Darcy, not once had Elizabeth worried for her safety. He had been arrogant and opinionated, but she had not perceived him as a bully. In fact, watching his kindness towards Henry even in the face of blatant disobedience as the puppy repeatedly escaped Netherfield against his master’s bidding, she acknowledged her view of Mr. Darcy’s character had undergone somewhat of a change. No, the newcomer should have had no reason to fret in being in company with the puppy or Mr. Darcy.
Possibly he really had business to care for. Propriety did not allow her curiosity about the man’s nature to be satisfied without her prying where she did not belong, so Elizabeth turned her attention back to the puppy.
Kitty bent to wipe the grime from Henry’s face with her delicate lace-lined handkerchief. Lydia soon joined her with the claim, “There are other officers besides those three. We will impress them with our sweet-faced puppy, Kitty. If they see us being kind and taking good care, they will want to marry us so we can take care of them too, I am sure.”
Where does she get such ideas? Elizabeth wanted to scoff. Then, she recalled Mr. Darcy accusing her of using an innocent pup as a mean art to attract him as a husband. Looking carefully at her two sisters, where she had once concluded his idea was preposterous, she suspected he might have had the right of it after all.
Whether or not they all were correct, the salient point was that Henry was enjoying the attention from the girls far too much. He pranced. Then he preened. When a dust particle must have gotten too close to his nose, he sneezed then wiggled before running in circles around the Bennets.
Elizabeth knew that move. He was herding them, doing his job. What a happy puppy he was.
Smiling at his antics, the sisters at first failed to hear horses approaching. Once the mounts reached the far side of the haberdashery, Elizabeth looked up to see Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy riding quickly towards them. When they were close enough, Elizabeth could see the determination upon Mr. Darcy’s face. She knew that look. She had seen it daily since her first acquaintance with the puppy in the field. He was after Henry.