by Jann Rowland
“Of course, William. I would be happy to.”
William grinned and nodded to her. “Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I would like to know my future father-in-law better.”
And with that, he rose and approached Elizabeth’s father, where he was speaking with Colonel Fitzwilliam. They three men were joined by Mr. Bingley soon after, and they stood there speaking with some animation. Though Elizabeth was not close enough to overhear all their words, she thought she heard mention of a hunting party, as well as William’s commentary on his fishing stream. Though her father was not the angler her uncle boasted of being, he seemed agreeable to William’s suggestion of a fishing party in the next few days.
Soon after, William, following Elizabeth’s suggestion, offered to show the library to her father, which was accepted with alacrity. Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam begged off—each being quite familiar with the room—and the two men left together. Elizabeth could not hope for anything more than good relations between her father and her future husband. She hoped the business would be completed quickly and they would return—she could hardly wait, though she still did not mean to make it known due to her uncertainty over Jane.
“You should not read too much into Mr. Darcy’s attentions to your father, Eliza.”
Startled from her reverie, Elizabeth looked up to see Miss Bingley looming over her. When she had approached, Elizabeth was not certain, but given the offense she was displaying, not to mention the ever-present contempt, the woman was not happy with what she had been seeing.
“Mr. Darcy, you see,” continued she, “is attentive to all those duties as a host with guests in his home. I have no doubt his civility is prompted by nothing more than the desire to maintain good relations with Charles. They are such close friends, you understand, and Mr. Darcy will do anything for my brother, even accepting those with whom he would not usually associate.”
“You need not fear for me, Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth, ignoring the woman’s insinuations. “I have no desire to interpret Mr. Darcy’s actions.”
Especially since I already know why he asked to speak with my father.
“It is well then, for only heartache can come of such expectations.”
“Of what expectations do you speak?” asked Elizabeth, though inside she wished she could put this woman in her place.
Miss Bingley only sneered. “The expectations nearly all young ladies have of Mr. Darcy when they meet him. But his are the highest, most discerning tastes, and I have no doubt his destiny lies in a place unlike that which you inhabit.”
“That of a gentleman’s daughter?” asked Elizabeth mildly.
The lines of her mouth tightened and Miss Bingley chose not to answer. Elizabeth was more than willing to oblige her by speaking again.
“I assume it is marriage of which you speak. I suppose you mean that he will likely marry a noble’s daughter, if he is not to marry the daughter of a mere gentleman, for I hardly think you would suggest he would marry a woman who was not at least his equal.”
“My words were nothing more than friendly advice to one who is, after all, related by marriage,” said Miss Bingley, ignoring Elizabeth’s rejoinder. “I suggest you do not forget this, Eliza, for if you do, you will surely be disappointed in the end.”
The woman than turned and walked away, returning to the sofa on which Jane sat. Again, Elizabeth watched her sister, noting the way there was once again a crack in the veneer of her behavior, though this time it consisted of annoyance with Miss Bingley. It was a feeling Elizabeth could well understand—she, herself, was almost perpetually annoyed by Jane’s new sister.
As for the woman herself, though Elizabeth longed to inform her of her new status, she forced herself to practice patience. Though it would be gratifying to see Miss Bingley’s countenance when she discovered Elizabeth’s understanding with William, the anticipation would make the event that much sweeter. She should not enjoy another’s consternation so much, but for such a specimen as Miss Bingley, Elizabeth was willing to make an exception.
“You have a fine estate, sir.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bennet,” said Darcy, nodding to the man’s praise. “It has been in the family many generations, and I am proud of it.”
“There seems to be much to be proud of. Bingley has given you a rather flaming character, but I can see the care and attention you have put into Pemberley, and, I expect, into every facet of your life. It seems, therefore, the praise was not exaggerated.”
Darcy, as ever, was uncomfortable speaking of himself, nevertheless he took pains to speak with the man he was hoping would approve of his marriage to Elizabeth. They exchanged some few words as they walked through the halls of Pemberley, Darcy noting some of the history of the place to Bennet, who listened and asked questions with interest unfeigned.
When they arrived at the library, Elizabeth’s prediction of her father’s reaction to the room was proven correct, and even more to Darcy’s amusement, it mirrored his daughter’s rather closely. Mr. Bennet stepped into the room, his eyes widening in awe as he took in the sight of so many bookshelves stuffed with the bounty accumulated by so many generations of the Darcy family. For a moment, he wandered about, looking at this title, or pulling a volume out, reading the cover and taking in the beauty of the written word.
“I think you have made a tactical error, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet after he had wandered about the room for several moments. “I may never wish to leave this room, for I do not doubt that it would take me more years than I have left to make my way through such an abundance of books.”
Darcy laughed. “I can see that you are, indeed, Miss Bennet’s father. She predicted your reaction to the letter, and even suggested that I might face a difficult time of evicting you.”
“Ah, my Lizzy. Yes, she knows me quite well.” Mr. Bennet pulled out another book and inspected it. Then he turned and gestured with it before setting it back in its place on the shelf. “I can see that your collection is of longstanding, sir, for this volume is much older than I am.”
“I cannot take credit for most of this, though my father, my grandfather, and I have added a great many volumes as books have become cheaper to produce and more readily available. The house itself is over a century old, and several times modifications or additions have been made to it. This particular room was remodeled by my grandfather when the old room in which the library resided became too small for our collection.”
“And how much longer will it be before this collection outgrows its home?” asked Mr. Bennet, looking about the room. It was an astute observation, as there was very little room left on the shelves which was not already dedicated to existing volumes.
“I have already drawn up some preliminary plans to expand,” replied Darcy. “We could use the small rooms to either side and join them to this one by removing walls, or we could build an addition out from the house to accommodate our needs. The most intriguing option, however, is building up.”
Mr. Bennet turned, his countenance alight with interest. “Building up?”
“The architect suggested that we could remove the ceiling from this room and convert the rooms situated above for additional space. Above us is the guest wing, including a pair of suites which are hardly ever used. If we removed the floor in between, left a balcony around the edge to walk on, installed a railing and a stairway, we would double our available space.”
“Then you could go about spending your annual income purchasing more books to fill the empty space.”
“Exactly.”
The two men shared a grin. “I would love to see your plans, if you are willing to share them. As Lizzy has already told you, collecting books is a hobby of mine as well. Since she is the only one of my daughters who truly appreciates the written word, I have arranged in my will that she will receive my book collection.”
“None of them are tied to the estate?”
“Some few volumes, yes,” replied M
r. Bennet. “But most are the personal additions contributed by myself and my father. They are nothing compared to your collection, but I have some first editions, books which Elizabeth will remember fondly.”
“I am certain she will treasure them.”
“Yes, she shall.” Mr. Bennet paused, and then said: “I must suppose that showing me your library was not your only reason for inviting me here, Mr. Darcy. Shall we proceed to that discussion before I lose myself in your treasure of books?”
“Certainly, sir. Shall we go to my study? It is just through this door.”
With Mr. Bennet following—though a little unwillingly, Darcy noted with amusement—Darcy led him through the door at side the of the room to his study and invited him to sit in one of the chairs before the fireplace. Darcy himself remained standing, leaning on the fireplace mantle while he marshalled his thoughts. He was grateful to Bennet for allowing this time to gather himself, though the man did show a little amusement at his predicament. Darcy supposed it was not unusual for men to display such feelings upon being confronted by a suitor for their daughter, and a large part of it must be the remembrance of their own experience on the other side of the equation.
“Miss Bennet has told me that you know of my proposal.”
“Yes, she did inform me.”
It appeared the man was not about to make this ordeal any easier. “It was not many days after meeting Miss Bennet that I understood her worth. Her capabilities are extensive, and she complements me perfectly, her joy in life and ability to be easy in company pulls me from my sometimes more dour temperament and awkwardness. I respect and love her, and have her assurance that she loves me in return. I ask for your permission and your blessing to marry her, sir.”
“You have said the words any father wishes to hear, particularly when the woman in question is most like him in temperament and cherished accordingly.” Mr. Bennet paused. “I have seen your estate and I know you can support her in comfort, so that is not an issue. Are you also aware that Elizabeth possesses little dowry and little in the way of connections?”
“Not the specifics, no. Mr. Drummond has told me that she does not have a large fortune of her own, and he has told me something of your heir and your wife’s brother in London. In fact, we share an odd sort of coincidental connection, for your cousin is parson to my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Mr. Bennet laughed. “Indeed! I apologize, sir, but I have often wondered about your aunt, and I have suspected she is not a sensible woman. Any woman who would offer a living to my cousin, one of the most foolish men I have ever met, must be out of her wits.”
“So Miss Bennet has informed me, sir,” said Darcy, chuckling along with him. “I must own that I am curious to meet this man of whom both you and your daughter have spoken so glibly. He must be an interesting specimen, indeed.”
“That he is, Mr. Darcy.”
“As for my aunt,” continued Darcy, “though she is my dearly departed mother’s sister, they were nothing alike. Lady Catherine is a force unto herself, and I only see her once a year. Given how often she exceeds her income and the excessive interest she takes in the lives of those around her, I can only concur that she is not the most sensible woman, though she herself would not agree.”
“So I have gathered. Then are you the cousin Mr. Collins has so generously told us is destined for Miss de Bourgh? For that matter, how would the rest of your illustrious family view your marriage to my daughter?”
“Miss Bennet mentioned something about having heard that rumor,” said Darcy.
“In Mr. Collins’s defense, I do not believe he related it to all and sundry. But as Elizabeth’s father, the matter is one of some concern.”
“Then let me put your mind at ease. This supposed cradle engagement is nothing more than a fabrication of my aunt’s. My mother never spoke of it, and though my aunt began to speak of it after my mother’s passing, my father openly disparaged such a report. It is only since his passing that Lady Catherine has begun to speak of the matter in detail. I pay little attention to her.”
“And Miss de Bourgh’s wishes?”
“I avoid much contact with her,” confessed Darcy. “If I pay her even the slightest hint of attention, my aunt assumes I am about to propose. But though I do not know my cousin’s wishes on the matter, it is my thought that she does not wish to marry, as her health is poor. Regardless, as Lady Catherine’s schemes require my participation and consent, it is of little matter, for I will not yield.
“As for your questions regarding the rest of my family, I have no Darcy relations close enough to solicit their opinions, and my uncle’s family—Lady Catherine’s brother—though close, will not object. The earl is proud of his situation, but he knows he cannot direct me. Colonel Fitzwilliam you have already met, and he esteems your daughter highly. His brother and sisters and the countess will all accept her, some more readily than others, it is true. But their support will go far in smoothing Miss Bennet’s way in society.”
“And her lack of dowry?”
“Does not concern me in the slightest. Pemberley is not my only holding, and I have a diverse set of investments which make the lack of a dowry irrelevant. I have enough wealth to provide for her and twelve children, if necessary.
“I am fortunate enough to possess the means to marry wherever I like.” Darcy gazed into the other man’s eyes, speaking frankly so he was clearly understood. “All the wealth in the world means nothing if I do not use it to secure my happiness. Miss Bennet complements me in every way. There is nothing I would not do to be granted her presence in my life.”
“Then there is nothing left to be said,” replied Mr. Bennet. “Though you do not need my consent, I grant it anyway, in addition to my blessing. I could not have wished for more for her than to see her married to a man who will respect and cherish her.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Darcy, extending his hand to his soon-to-be father-in-law.
“Now,” said Mr. Bennet, rubbing his hands together, “if I might be allowed to sample some of your excellent library, I think I will be very well pleased.”
“Of course, sir,” replied Darcy, grinning with delight. “I shall arrange to have you called for luncheon.”
He led the way back into the library, showed Mr. Bennet where the port could be found and took his leave. Before he could, however, Mr. Bennet’s amused voice stopped him.
“Surely you must know that I shall be inclined to visit frequently after you are married, Mr. Darcy.”
“And you shall be quite welcome, sir. I would expect nothing less, given your close relationship with Miss Bennet. I am certain the library has nothing to do with it.”
Bennet chuckled and turned to the book he had already chosen, and Darcy left the room. Though the outcome had never been in doubt, he knew Elizabeth would be thrilled to hear the results of their conversation.
Chapter XXX
The official nature of Elizabeth’s engagement did wonders for her happiness, and she could often be found humming to herself, or smiling at the oddest times. It did a world of good to Bennet’s heart to see his daughter in such high spirits; he would miss her, it was certain, but he could not have asked for a better man to be her husband. The decision to send her to Derbyshire had turned out spectacularly well, far better than Bennet had ever expected. And he was certain to let his host know of his gratitude.
“Thank you for the invitation, Drummond,” said he to his brother one day when they were ensconced in the man’s study. “I could not have imagined a better outcome for my Lizzy than she has found here in Derbyshire.”
“You are quite welcome, Bennet,” said his brother. “I have enjoyed having her, and I know my daughters have had as much benefit from her presence as she has derived from being here.”
They raised their glasses and sipped from them, Bennet already lost in thought. “She was not happy in Hertfordshire,” said Bennet quietly. “I have never seen her so affected, f
rom Jane’s marriage and subsequent distance to what she considered to be the monotony of life in her home. She has always been so happy and resilient. It was difficult to witness it.”
“I noted some of the same when she first arrived, but with new acquaintances and the company of my daughters, I could quickly see the resilience you have mentioned. She has a unique ability to adapt.”
“I dare say she does.” Bennet snorted. “I believe she would have even been able to adapt to marriage to my fool of a cousin, though she never would have been happy with him. I have always struggled to imagine a man who was worthy of her, who would appreciate her for what she would bring to a marriage beyond the obvious concerns with which society is so enamored. It is fortunate that such a man existed so close to your borders.”
“She would have met him eventually,” said Drummond. “Darcy’s closest friend is married to your eldest.”
“True,” said Bennet, wondering if it would have come to pass, considering Jane’s distance.
Those days were filled with more society than Bennet usually wished for, though he surprised himself by enjoying it thoroughly. There was the promised fishing expedition at Pemberley, visits there and to some of the other friends Elizabeth had made in the district. The spoils from the fishing expedition were sent to Kingsdown with Darcy’s compliments, to be used at the dinner to which the Drummonds had invited those at Pemberley. Of course, there was much ridiculous behavior to savor, primarily perpetrated by Miss Bingley, whose head Bennet had always known was far too big for her bonnet. The woman seemed to sense something had changed between Elizabeth and Darcy, and though their engagement had not been announced, she seemed to sense the danger to her schemes, redoubling her efforts accordingly. Bennet watched her flailing with great relish and amusement, though Darcy appeared to appreciate it much less.
When the day arrived for the Darcy party to join them at Kingsdown for dinner, Bennet anticipated it with his usual eagerness for amusement, for there was much to be had. They arrived and entered the estate, and Bennet could have predicted their responses in advance, had he cared to think on the matter. Bingley entered with a jovial smile and an eagerness for his company, while Miss Bingley appeared like some foul odor had wafted past her upturned nose. Darcy and his sister entered with eyes for no one but Elizabeth, whom they joined with alacrity upon entering the room, further souring Miss Bingley’s disposition.