In the Wilds of Derbyshire

by Jann Rowland

  “Fitzwilliam,” chastised Mr. Darcy. “Lady Catherine lives in Kent, which is a much more civilized land.”

  “But you cannot think that she would not remake Pemberley in the image of Rosings, should she ever succeed in hogtying Anne to you.”

  “That, I cannot deny.” He turned back to Elizabeth. “Have you had the opportunity to walk Pemberley’s grounds?”

  “Not yet, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. The mention of Rosings and Lady Catherine had caused her to start, though she did not think either of her companions had noticed. “I have come to visit Georgiana, and I would not be a poor guest by insisting on walking the grounds during my visit.”

  “I believe she would be very happy to oblige you,” said Mr. Darcy, “though I sense that you would likely walk farther than she would consider comfortable. And she spends so much time at the pianoforte, that I cannot think that the exercise shall be anything other than beneficial.”

  “Then I shall attempt to entice her out into the gardens. I will own, however, that I would likely prefer to walk further. I am sure there are many paths to choose from.”

  “There are. The park is ten miles around, so I am certain you would not exhaust new sights quickly.”

  The mention of the size of his estate impressed Elizabeth. It was obvious that it was a great estate, but to have such a large park was almost unfathomable to a young woman who had been raised on one much smaller.

  “I am curious, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy. His manner seemed a little hesitant, almost bashful, which Elizabeth had never seen. “Do you ride at all?”

  “I can ride a little,” replied Elizabeth. “I am not by any means accomplished, but as long as the horse is gentle, I am able to keep my seat.”

  “Perhaps you would consent to a little instruction when you come to Pemberley? As I said, the park is large, and there are some delightful scenes at distances which are not conducive to walking. Given your love of nature, Georgiana and I would be pleased to take you to them.”

  Elizabeth was flattered that he should offer such a boon to her. “If it would not be too much trouble, I would be happy to accept your instruction.”

  “It is no trouble at all,” replied Mr. Darcy quietly.

  “Perhaps your cousin could be persuaded too?” asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  “It is possible. I am not certain if she has any experience, but if she has, I know it is not much.”

  “Then we shall attend to it when the opportunity presents itself,” said Mr. Darcy. “It should not be long before you are competent enough, as long as we are there to escort you.”

  “And Darcy will not miss an opportunity to display his beautiful estate,” inserted Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  “It is my family’s pride and joy,” replied Mr. Darcy, stating a fact rather than boasting. “As a lover of nature yourself, Miss Bennet, I am convinced there are few who would appreciate it as much as you.”

  Blushing in response to his praise, which Elizabeth sensed was anything but gratuitous, she nodded, indicating her pleasure with such a scheme. There truly was so much of Derbyshire that she had never seen that she could not but be excited at the prospect of seeing more of Mr. Darcy’s estate.

  Soon, the towers of Teasdale Manor rose into view, and they stopped in front of the house and were welcomed by Lady Emily. The front lawn had been decorated with streamers and ribbons, several large canvas shelters had been erected, and lawn chairs had been brought out to provide a place to rest for those who did not wish to sit on the ground. Inside those tents there were several tables groaning under the weight of a great variety of foods, the variety enough to satisfy any taste. All at once Elizabeth realized that she was positively famished, having eaten only a roll that morning.

  “Welcome to Teasdale Manor,” said Lady Emily when they had alighted from the carriage.

  The gentlemen bowed over the lady’s hand while Elizabeth curtseyed and greeted her with pleasure. “Thank you for the invitation, Lady Emily,” said Elizabeth. “Everything appears to be remarkably fine.”

  “Thank you, Miss Bennet,” said the lady, though her demeanor betrayed no hint of any emotion. “We usually do this every spring, and I must confess that it is the event I anticipate more than any other.”

  She turned to the gentlemen. “As you can see, most of the guests have already arrived, and many are already partaking of the food. Please do not stand on ceremony—there will be games and other entertainment after luncheon.”

  “Thank you, Lady Emily,” said Mr. Darcy. Then he turned to Elizabeth and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  Acceding with a shy nod, Elizabeth put her hand in his arm and they proceeded to the nearest table. Elizabeth heard a snort from behind them, but when she glanced back to Colonel Fitzwilliam, he only smiled at her and rolled his eyes. Elizabeth did not quite understand what he found so amusing, but she soon put it out of her mind when they passed some of the ladies she had met during her stay, whom she greeted with her usual friendliness and exchanged some pleasantries. Soon, however, Mr. Darcy drew her away to the tables.

  “Shall I fix you a plate, Miss Bennet?”

  She seemed pleased by his solicitation, smiling and nodding, and she directed him to some of her favorites, surprising him by choosing some of the plainer fare—a few sandwiches, some fresh fruit, and only one small tart to go with them. When Darcy made this observation to her, Miss Bennet laughed.

  “Shall you also be disgusted with the simplicity of my tastes, Mr. Darcy?” At his questioning glance, she continued: “During a dinner at Netherfield, Mr. Hurst found he had nothing to say to me when he discovered that I prefer a plain dish to a ragout. The man’s contempt was quite apparent.”

  Darcy laughed and shook his head. “I can well imagine it. Hurst is . . . well, he is a simple sort himself. He loves to hunt, loves breeding his dogs, and can be happy at any event, as long as he has copious amounts of wine or brandy and a plate of sweetmeats all to himself.”

  “When I stayed at Netherfield, he was almost always sprawled across one of the couches in the evenings. That is, when he could not convince anyone to play cards with him.”

  Having filled her plate and his, Darcy led her to a pair of chairs nearby, ensuring she was seated comfortably before he seated himself. Across the way, he noted Fitzwilliam seating himself close to Lady Emily, who had apparently followed them from where she had first greeted them, and he received a wink and an expressive glance at Lady Emily from his cousin. Darcy frowned—he could not imagine what that was all about. More of Fitzwilliam’s typical insouciance, no doubt.

  “I am sure, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy, turning back to her and shunting thoughts of his cousin to the side, “that your picture of Hurst is quite accurate. Though he is not a bad sort, I find him to be more than a little bit of a bore.”

  “I never would have guessed, Mr. Darcy,” replied Miss Bennet, her eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth.

  “It is unfortunate,” said Darcy. “I had planned to join Bingley at Netherfield myself last autumn. If I had, we would have been acquainted all this time.”

  She did not seem to know what to make of his statement, and Darcy himself was not certain what had made him say such a thing. She paused a moment, and then redirected the conversation.

  “That is unfortunate, sir. Do you think you would have brought your sister with you?”

  “Ah, pierced through the heart!” Darcy put a dramatic hand over his breast. “The possibility of making your acquaintance last year rendered palatable only because I might have introduced Georgiana to you at the same time!”

  Miss Bennet giggled at his melodramatic statement, and he winked at her. “It is unlikely she would have come to Hertfordshire. At the time, she was recovering from a disappointment which she has only recently overcome. That is the reason why I decided not to go myself.”

  “Oh, I hope she is quite well now,” said Miss Bennet, concern etched on her face. “She does not s
eem to be suffering.”

  “I think it is in a large part because of your friendship and that of Miss Drummond.”

  When Miss Bennet appeared taken aback, Darcy continued: “She has not had much opportunity to make many friends, owing to a shy demeanor and a dearth of young ladies her age in the area.”

  Miss Bennet frowned. “There seem to be many such young ladies.”

  “Yes, but she is exactly at the age where there are many who are her elder by two or three years, and several younger. The elder she has not the confidence to approach, while she has little interest in the concerns of the younger. Miss Drummond is the closest in age, being less than a year older.”

  Darcy sighed and looked away. “I should have encouraged a friendship between them earlier, but I did not wish to push her into situations she might have found uncomfortable.”

  “She will never become comfortable in society unless she puts herself forward.”

  “You are correct, of course.”

  Contrary to Miss Bennet’s words, there was no censure in her gaze. She watched him, her expressions showing nothing but concern and compassion. A powerful feeling welled up within him. He was unused to ladies of Miss Bennet’s station looking on him with anything other than avarice and calculation. He suspected, given Drummond’s intelligence, that she had little in the way of those benefits which would attract most men, but her lack of artifice and her joyful character made those concerns meaningless.

  “Georgiana is the youngest of my extended family. We have some second cousins on the Darcy side, with whom we are not at all close, while only a few on the Fitzwilliam side. Fitzwilliam is one of my two elder cousins, and he has two younger sisters who are both older than Georgiana. My aunt in Kent also has a daughter, but she is closer in age to me than to my sister. So, you see, it has left my sister without a natural companion within the family. Fitzwilliam and I are jointly responsible for her care, and we have done our best. But what do a pair of young bachelors know about raising a young girl?”

  “I would say you have done a marvelous job of it,” replied Miss Bennet. “She is intelligent, respectful, elegant, and so very talented. Both Olivia and I are particularly fond of her.

  “But your mention of your aunt does bring to mind a rather curious connection, sir.” Darcy was gratified by her assessment of Georgiana but intrigued by her subsequent words. “You have mentioned your aunt, Lady Catherine—might I inquire if she is Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent?”

  Surprised, Darcy nodded. “Yes, she is. How do you know her?”

  “I have never met the lady. I believe I have spoken of a cousin who is to inherit my father’s estate?”

  “I believe you said he married one of your sisters.”

  “Yes, that is correct. In fact, Mr. Collins is the rector of Hunsford, which I believe is the parish connected to your aunt’s estate.”

  “That is a curious connection, indeed,” replied Darcy. Then a thought occurred to him, and he turned a curious eye on the woman at his side. “Pardon me, Miss Bennet, but . . . I am simply wondering about your cousin. You see, I have been to Rosings many times, often in the spring—though we chose not to attend my aunt this year—and I am quite familiar with Hunsford, and even more familiar with the kind of men my aunt prefers to install there.”

  A laugh bubbled up from Miss Bennet’s breast, and her eyes shone with mirth. “I believe I know what you are asking, Mr. Darcy. I have never met any of your aunt’s previous parsons, but I can imagine what kind of men they were. Mr. Collins is quite the most obsequious, ridiculous man I have ever met. He could not be content unless he venerated and lauded his patroness from morning until night.”

  Darcy joined her, indulging in a quiet chuckle. “I can well imagine it. Her previous parson, Mr. Peters, was afraid to say anything which might remotely be construed as in opposition to Lady Catherine’s many opinions.”

  “Then I rather think she has outdone herself this time, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Collins is not afraid of opposing Lady Catherine—rather, he is eager to agree with everything she says. I dare say that he would be happy to declare the sun green, should she only decree it to be so.”

  They continued to laugh together, but in the midst of her laughter, Darcy thought he saw a shadow cross Miss Bennet’s face. As a woman who laughed at life, enjoying it to its fullest, he would not have expected such a reaction during a mirth-filled conversation.

  “Is there something the matter, Miss Bennet?”

  A rueful glance was her initial response, and for a moment he thought she might refuse to answer his question. In the end, however, she sighed and looked at him, her smile more a grimace.

  “The reminder of a different side of Mr. Collins crossed my mind at an inopportune time.”

  “Oh?” asked Darcy. He thought to be a little concerned, as he knew she was not easily intimidated, more likely to laugh if anything.

  Miss Bennet tried to demure, but she seemed to sense that he was only concerned, not intrusive. She straightened her shoulders, and then she looked at him, her countenance seeming to dare him to ridicule.

  “In fact, I was the first recipient of Mr. Collins’s attentions. I could not, in good conscience, marry a man as ridiculous as he, a man I could not respect, let alone love, so I refused him, after which he turned to my sister. At their wedding breakfast, he informed me in no uncertain terms that I had best find a husband, for I would not be allowed to live at his estate in the event of my father’s untimely death.”

  Several contrary emotions ran the gamut through Darcy’s mind at her revelation: anger at the man’s presumption and unchristian mean-spiritedness; offense for her sake; pride in her convictions; and a sense of undefinable sadness that he might have lost her before ever meeting her.

  “You may despise me at your leisure,” said Miss Bennet brightly, though he thought he caught a hint of nervousness under her nonchalance. “I have refused a highly eligible match, and must now end an old maid. But you must not fear for me, Mr. Darcy—my mother overheard Mr. Collins’s words, and she was quick to assure me that she and my sister, who would undoubtedly consider it a duty, would never allow me to be put out from my home. And since Mr. Collins is probably the weakest willed man I have ever met, I do not doubt she spoke the truth.”

  “I hardly think it possible to despise you, Miss Bennet.” Of course not. Any thought that he might still have espoused of her being a fortune hunter was now dispelled. “I cannot imagine that such a thing will ever come to pass, for I cannot imagine you remaining unmarried for so long.”

  “Thank you for your kind words, sir.”

  “It is not a kindness. It is a conviction.” She lowered her gaze to the ground in embarrassment, but the pink stains on her cheeks showed that she was not displeased. “As for Mr. Collins, I can hardly fathom a man of the cloth saying such things to one who is, after all, a relation. Though my aunt is many things, I cannot imagine that she would approve of such behavior.”

  Seeming embarrassed by the conversation, Miss Bennet changed the subject. “You have mentioned your invitation to the Bingleys to Pemberley. Will the Hursts be included?”

  “My understanding is that they are in Norfolk at Hurst’s family estate. As such, I believe I will take the opportunity to avoid Hurst’s company by only inviting your sister and her husband. That also means that the invitation must include Miss Bingley, as she is not welcome in Norfolk, due to a number of highly pyroclastic confrontations with Hurst’s mother.”

  Miss Bennet laughed. “I can well believe it.”

  At that moment, their conversation was interrupted by the approach of the earl. Darcy rose to his feet and bowed, shaking the other man’s proffered hand. “Your lordship. I had not thought you would attend your daughter’s picnic.”

  “And you would be correct,” replied the earl. “I am to go into Derby today, for I have some business there. But I noticed a young lady to whom I have not been introduced and th
ought to procure an introduction.”

  “Of course.” Darcy turned to Miss Bennet, who had risen by his side. “My lord, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire. Lately she has been visiting her uncle, Mr. Drummond, and is to stay with us through the course of the summer. Miss Bennet, may I introduce his lordship, Arthur Teasdale, Earl of Chesterfield and Lady Emily’s father.”

  “I am charmed to meet you, Miss Bennet,” said the earl. “Your uncle is a good man and a valued member of the community.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” replied Miss Bennet.

  The earl turned back to Darcy. “I did not miss the mode of your introduction, sir. I dare say you have the right of it: being Emily’s father is as important a title as the rest of it.”

  Darcy laughed. “I am certain it is, my lord. She is a fine woman.”

  “Something of a handful since her mother’s death, but I must agree with you.

  “Ah, it looks as if the sports are about to begin,” said the earl, gesturing at the lawn where those in attendance were gathering. “I shall leave you to it. Only remember that it is customary for a man to carry a lady’s favor onto the field of battle.”

  With a sly wink at Miss Bennet, the earl farewelled them and departed.

  Darcy turned to his companion, noting that her embarrassment had made a return. “What say you, Miss Bennet?”

  “Of what, sir?” replied she, though Darcy was convinced she knew exactly to what he referred.

  “Shall I carry your favor into battle today?”

  Miss Bennet laughed. “I do not know if it is correct to call it battle, sir. I have naught but this handkerchief to give you, if you wish.”

  The piece of cloth that she produced was a lacy, frilly sort of thing, with her initials embroidered in one corner in a complex script. With a bow over her hand, Darcy accepted it and placed it carefully in the front pocket of his jacket.

  “I will endeavor to win the day for your ladyship. I hope I will receive the boon of your support.”