“Miss Bennet!” he exclaimed, executing a small bow. “You are a looking exceedingly well. I trust you have been in good health?”
“Yes, I have enjoyed the best of health, thank you.” Elizabeth wondered that Lord Kirkwood had visited alone; in the past, he had been accompanied by other friends of Richard’s. Perhaps no one else had been available to visit the poor, grieving almost-widow.
“I am very pleased to hear it!” He sat in one of the brocade-covered chairs but perched at the very edge of the seat as if excessive energy prevented him from more restful sitting.
Their eyes met, and he gave her a wide smile. He really is quite an attractive man, she thought. And about as different from Mr. Darcy as possible.
Am I now comparing every man to Mr. Darcy? She thought with disgust.
Lord Kirkwood was oblivious to her internal debate. “I have a particular design in today’s visit,” he confessed.
“Oh?”
His expression turned abruptly solemn, and his eyes locked on hers. “I know this may seem abrupt to you, but I have admired you for a long time….”
Merciful heavens, no! Elizabeth only just prevented herself from crying out.
This was not possible! It was a cruel joke. Two marriage proposals in one day? She schooled her features into a semblance of calm; perhaps he intended something else entirely.
But this hope was destined to be dashed as her visitor continued. “It has come to my attention that you have recently been the victim of scurrilous accusations and threatening behavior. I cannot be happy knowing you are at risk—not when I can be of assistance to the beloved of my dear friend.”
“That is not necessary. I am certain all will soon be forgotten.” she demurred hastily. Perhaps she could prevent the entire uncomfortable scene.
But the lord was not to be deterred from his full share of awkwardness. “I do not believe so. Please allow me to say my piece.”
Elizabeth wished she could somehow prevent the coming disaster, for his sake as well as for hers. However, she could conceive of no polite way to prevent a man from offering marriage.
No longer able to contain his energy, Lord Kirkwood sprung from his chair and almost bounced among the room’s various pieces of furniture.
“I feel a great deal of fondness for you, and I flatter myself that you return some measure of my affection. I would like to offer you my hand in marriage, to protect and cherish you for the rest of my life.” His pacing brought him in front of Elizabeth, where he smiled endearingly at her. As she contemplated the necessity of declining his offer, she felt as if she was planning to kick a small, eager animal.
For a moment, Elizabeth was actually tempted to swear. Why did everyone assume she needed protection? Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax the tightness in her shoulders. Lord Kirkwood wished to help; he did not deserve to suffer her frustration.
Best to dispense with the unpleasantness as quickly as possible. Elizabeth steeled herself. “I am very honored by your offer, Lord Kirkwood, but I cannot accept.”
His face fell so dramatically that Elizabeth struggled not to laugh. He resembled nothing so much as a small child who had been deprived of his favorite toy. Indeed, the whole situation was somewhat ridiculous given that it was not the first proposal of the day.
“I do not believe I am in need of such protection as you are offering,” she said softly.
He appeared quite crestfallen. “I beg you to reconsider!” Were those not the same words Mr. Darcy had used?
Elizabeth recalled the tangle of emotions she had experienced earlier in the day; at least Lord Kirkwood did not inspire such a confusion of feelings. “It is too soon after Richard’s death. I cannot offer my heart to another man.”
Lord Kirkwood’s shoulders slumped as he fixed his eyes on the floor. “Darcy said as much, but I did not wish to believe him,” he muttered.
“You discussed your proposal with Mr. Darcy?” She cried. What could that possibly mean?
The lord blinked. “Well, yes, I saw him at White’s yesterday and mentioned my plan. I thought he would be relieved—in case his sister has been anxious for you.” Elizabeth smoothed her skirts with palms that were suddenly damp with sweat.
Lord Kirkwood continued, “He tried to dissuade me, but I decided to try my luck.” Apparently, the lord viewed her as akin to a particularly elusive deer he was stalking.
Why would Mr. Darcy propose to her on the morning of a day when he knew another man planned to make her an offer? She almost addressed the question to Lord Kirkwood, but he obviously knew nothing of Mr. Darcy’s attempt to preempt him, and the poor man already looked so defeated that she did not wish to compound it.
Perhaps Mr. Darcy somehow disapproved of Lord Kirkwood and sought to rescue her from him? Did he know of gambling debts, a drinking problem, or some other deficiency rendering him an unsuitable husband?
No. Why would he not simply warn Elizabeth against the man?
Mr. Darcy’s avowed goal was protecting her from scandal, but as far as Elizabeth knew, the Kirkwood family name was untarnished, thus serving the purpose admirably. Why not simply allow Lord Kirkwood to propose?
Oh, that vexing man! Every time she believed she understood Mr. Darcy, he showed how she was in error.
Lord Kirkwood’s anxious stare brought her to the realization she was scowling. “I hope you are not angered with Mr. Darcy. He cannot be faulted for failing to sway me from my course,” he said.
“No, no, of course.” Elizabeth carefully applied a smile to her lips. “I do not blame him for that.” However, I do hold him accountable for other actions.
Suddenly the absurdity of the situation struck her. Two proposals in one day. It would make an excellent plot for a comic opera! She stifled an irrational impulse to laugh and covered her mouth with her hand.
Lord Kirkwood’s expression was bemused, and Elizabeth struggled to appear appropriately solemn lest he believe she was laughing at him. He glanced to the door. “I believe it is past time for me to depart.”
Elizabeth rose to escort him toward the entrance hall. “Lord Kirkwood, I am very touched at the care you demonstrated for me. Someday, you will fall in love with a woman and will be very happy I refused you today.”
He grimaced. “I pray you are right.” He stopped and gazed deeply into her eyes. “But I am pleased we may part friends.”
Elizabeth smiled at him. “As am I.”
After bidding her a good day, Kirkwood slipped through the door and was gone. She almost missed his presence, for now she would have to address the troublesome problem of Mr. Darcy.
***
Darcy truly did not wish to know about Kirkwood’s proposal, but he also could not stomach remaining in ignorance any longer. By midafternoon, he had worked himself up into such a fine state of agitation that he was not fit for human company. So naturally, he chose to visit his club.
Perhaps Kirkwood would be at the club, drowning his sorrows—or God forbid, celebrating. Darcy both desired to the see the man and desperately wished to avoid it.
Upon his arrival, he wandered through the rooms at White’s. He happened upon Lord Kirkwood, ensconced in a chair, behind that evening’s paper, and with a glass of port at his elbow. Not caring if he was intruding on the man’s privacy, Darcy seated himself opposite.
“Kirkwood, well met.”
The lord lowered his paper and gazed curiously at Darcy. He did not appear to be flushed with the joy of the newly affianced, but Darcy did not know the man well. Perhaps he was not particularly demonstrative. He did not seem especially distraught either. How could proposing to Elizabeth fail to provoke strong emotions? What was wrong with the man?
“Hello, Darcy,” Kirkwood said mildly.
“Kirkwood.” He paused, but the other man did not appear inclined to say any more. “Momentous day, eh?”
“Hmm?” Kirkwood blinked. “Oh. I suppose.” He reached for his glass. “Miss Bennet refused me.”
“I am sorry
to hear that.” Darcy had not realized how tense his entire body had been until all of his insides relaxed simultaneously. His body was suddenly so loose he felt he was in danger of sliding off the chair and onto the floor. He sent a little prayer of thanks to the heavens. “Did she say why?” The worst of his fears was past, but had Elizabeth mentioned Darcy’s morning visit to Kirkwood? No, then the other man’s expression would be quite different.
Kirkwood took a sip. “She does not feel the danger to her reputation, and she also cannot consider an offer of marriage so soon following Richard’s death.”
“Oh?” Darcy’s heart sank. She had not given that as a reason for rejecting him, but perhaps it was because of his close friendship with his cousin. What a fool he was to think she would contemplate replacing his cousin— even for the sake of security!
Darcy shifted in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. He wanted nothing more than to escape the conversation, but he was eager for every shred of information he could obtain. “Was Miss Bennet angry about the proposal?” Darcy asked.
“Angry?” Kirkwood echoed in bemusement. “Why would she be angry? No, she was very gracious, said she was honored, and so on.” Kirkwood watched the port swirl in his glass. “In point of fact, she seemed rather … amused.”
“Amused?” Darcy echoed incredulously. His proposal to Elizabeth had provoked many emotions, but amusement was not among them.
Kirkwood shrugged. “She is apt to discover the humor in every situation. She said someday my wife would thank her for refusing me.” The slight smile on the lord’s lips transformed into a grimace.
It was hard to reconcile the reaction Kirkwood described with the tight-lipped anger Darcy had faced earlier. If he and Kirkwood had made substantially the same argument in favor of marriage, why should his proposal be received with anger and Kirkwood’s with amusement? Yes, Elizabeth would enjoy the irony of receiving two proposals in one day, but she should only grow angrier each time someone espoused the idea that she needed protection.
“Did you tell her you had spoken with me yesterday?” Darcy asked.
Kirkwood blinked. “Y-yes. I said I had discussed the proposal with you.”
Darcy barely caught himself before swearing aloud. Elizabeth would suspect he had proposed marriage only to steal the march from his rival. Just when he believed her opinion of him could not sink any lower.
“Actually,” Kirkwood mused, “she did seem a bit put out then. You would think she would be flattered.” He shrugged. “Eh, women!” He tossed back the rest of the port.
So she was angry when his name was mentioned. Darcy dropped his head into his hands. She must truly hate him. What a fool he was. Any relief he had experienced now dissolved into a new sense of anxiety. Would she even speak with him again?
“Darcy? I say, are you feeling ill?” Darcy looked up into Kirkwood’s concerned face.
“A touch of queasiness.” All too true. “Perhaps it is best if I go.” Darcy managed to push himself into a standing position and stumble out of the room with a modicum of dignity.
Once more in the privacy of his carriage, he dropped his head against the back of the seat and marveled at the mess he had made of his life.
***
Elizabeth stared at the door to Darcy House and breathed deeply, trying to calm the agitation in her stomach. She had, upon occasion, ignored some of the lesser rules of propriety but never one as large as this. An unmarried lady should never visit an unmarried gentleman alone. If Georgiana were home, Elizabeth’s visit would have a veneer of acceptability, but she could not say what she must in Georgiana’s presence.
After Lord Kirkwood’s departure, Elizabeth taken a long, vigorous walk, trying to untangle and decipher everything that had transpired that day. While she could easily believe Lord Kirkwood had been straightforward with her, she was still mystified about Mr. Darcy. Had he intended to preempt Lord Kirkwood, and if so, why?
Again and again, she had ordered herself to ignore the problem. Did it matter if he had additional motivations that he had not revealed? She had refused Mr. Darcy and was confident in her decision. Of course, it had been the best choice. Even if she regarded him in a different light, she could not possibly consider a different answer to his question.
Of course not.
However, as she mused about the day’s events, the questions surrounding Mr. Darcy only multiplied and grew more difficult to ignore. She considered that Mr. Darcy’s bizarre behavior might indicate some deeper emotional attachment, although it was difficult to credit. But for a moment, she allowed herself the indulgence of imagining he did have romantic feelings for her. How would she feel about him?
Her relationship with Richard had been simple and effortless. It had always been easy to discern his thoughts and sentiments. They thought alike in so many matters and had established an easy camaraderie. And Richard had been a soldier: straightforward, holding nothing back. She had appreciated these qualities in him.
In many ways, his cousin was Richard’s opposite. Silent and brooding, he rarely revealed his thoughts and never his feelings. He seemed to dislike assemblies of people, particularly large groups. But now that she thought on it, he always seemed to seek her out, even as he seemed uncomfortable in her presence. Perhaps he did value her company; he simply demonstrated it in a very different way than Richard had.
The walk had resulted in two hours of thinking in circles, which reached no conclusions. Finally, Elizabeth decided she could only enjoy peace of mind if she spoke with Mr. Darcy in person.
As she stared at the smooth cherry wood of the Darcy House’s front door, however, her resolve wavered. How could she even initiate a conversation on such a delicate subject? Would he judge her too forward for visiting him?
No. Elizabeth straightened her shoulders. Mr. Darcy had set these events in motion, and she must understand what had transpired—and why. Some of her earlier anger flared. Instinctually, she knew he had concealed something from her, something which concerned her. And she was tired of being vexed and perplexed by this man!
Resolutely, she grabbed the knocker and banged it. The butler opened the door and nodded. “Miss Bennet, I will tell Miss Darcy you are visiting.”
“No, I—”
Before Elizabeth could say another word, the butler disappeared down the hallway, while a footman helped remove her cloak. Elizabeth fussed with her gloves and her reticule, silently berating herself for not immediately speaking up.
“Elizabeth! You arrived in time for tea.” With a welcoming smile, Georgiana glided down the hallway and ushered her friend into the drawing room. Elizabeth followed Georgiana and seated herself in one of the beautifully embroidered chairs.
As she poured out the tea, Georgiana chatted about the latest piece she was learning on the pianoforte and about her aunt’s insistence on a white dress for the next ball she was to attend. After a few minutes, Miss Darcy noticed her friend’s uncharacteristic silence. “Are you quite well?”
“Yes, I thank you. I am very well.” Feeling unequal to the needs of subtlety, Elizabeth asked, “Will your brother be joining us for tea?”
Georgiana’s eyebrows rose, but she was too polite to comment. She turned to the maid who had brought in a tray of biscuits. “Mary, has Mr. Darcy been alerted to Miss Bennet’s visit?” The maid indicated that she did not know but would inform him.
Elizabeth immediately had misgivings. Now she had ensured she would encounter Mr. Darcy! Her anger surged through her again. No, it was for the best. She must have some answers from him.
Georgiana regarded Elizabeth curiously as they spoke of the frequent rain. But feeling unequal to meeting her friend’s gaze, Elizabeth fixed her eyes on her teacup. She would be mortified if Georgiana made assumptions about her feelings toward Mr. Darcy.
They soon heard a quick step outside the door, and Mr. Darcy entered. His cravat was askew and his coat rumpled as if donned in haste. He looked as discomposed as Elizabeth felt. His eyes found h
er face immediately with a questioning look, but she could not allow her expression to betray anything in Georgiana’s presence.
Meeting a blank look, he glanced away as he bowed. “Miss Bennet.” The words were directed more toward the floor than toward her. Mr. Darcy seated himself and received the cup of tea Georgiana proffered.
The conversation ranged from the weather to the health of the inhabitants of Hertfordshire to the wellbeing of the Darcys’ various relations. Once these topics had run their course, the three seemed to have exhausted every available subject. Elizabeth’s mind was too full of questions that she dared not ask Mr. Darcy to fix her thoughts on more trivial matters.
Georgiana found herself in the unusual position of making most of the conversation. She bravely essayed several subjects; however, trapped in their separate discomforts, the others were unable to sustain her efforts. Mr. Darcy barely made an attempt, as he alternately glowered at the floor and directed puzzled glances at Elizabeth.
This is ridiculous, thought Elizabeth finally. Someone must end this impasse—despite Georgiana’s presence. “Lord Kirkwood came to visit today,” she mentioned during the next lull in the conversation.
Mr. Darcy’s head shot up, and he regarded her with a piercing glare. “Indeed?”
She regarded him steadily. “Imagine my surprise at learning you knew he intended to visit me.”
Several expressions passed over Mr. Darcy’s features: discomfort, guilt, and perhaps a bit of embarrassment. However, he did not seem angry she had raised the subject. His eyes slid to Georgiana. Elizabeth could not help gazing at her as well.
“Why?” Georgiana looked bewildered. “Was his visit of particular significance?” Suddenly, she seemed to intuit if not the subject of Elizabeth’s visit, then its sensitivity. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh!” Her eyes darted from Darcy to Elizabeth, immobile, with tension emanating from their bodies.
“Dear heart, I believe Miss Bennet and I have something we must discuss privately,” Darcy said gently.
Pride and Proposals Page 19