Falling for Mr. Darcy

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Falling for Mr. Darcy Page 12

by KaraLynne Mackrory


  “Lizzy, what can you tell me about this ‘gentleman’ of yours. Shall we call him Mr. Gent?”

  His attempt to lighten the atmosphere caused Elizabeth to laugh even as she said, “He is not my gentleman. But if you prefer it, Mr. Gent can be his name.”

  “Well, then, tell me about Mr. Gent.”

  Chuckling, she said, “He is a kind man, Papa. I think he is often misunderstood. I misunderstood him myself in the beginning. From what I have learned, I think he is rather shy, but I do not think he lacks confidence. He is well read; indeed, we like many of the same books. He has a sister whom he loves very dearly. She is his only family.” Elizabeth stopped to admire again the devotion Mr. Darcy had shown when he spoke of Georgiana the previous evening.

  “And does this Mr. Gent enjoy his work with Mr. Dennis in town?” Mr. Bennet waited for Elizabeth’s reaction to his teasing insinuation that her gentleman was the butcher’s apprentice.

  Covering her mouth as a peel of laughter burst out, she cried, “No indeed, Papa!” She knew then that his teasing indicated that he had likely deduced the real identity of Mr. Gent, or else he would not have made such an absurd comment. As their laughter quieted, she blushed slightly.

  “Do you think Mr. Gent is a good man, Papa?” she asked, quietly.

  “I hardly know, Poppet. I have not had many opportunities to enjoy the pleasure of his company to ascertain that.” Mr. Bennet paused before asking the question to which he dreaded receiving an answer. “Lizzy, do you believe Mr. Gent returns your affections?”

  Elizabeth thought about his question for a few moments. It was clear to her that Mr. Darcy was not indifferent, but whether or not he held feelings more tender was not certain. Since her fall, he seemed much more inclined to concern himself with getting to know her. He had been less distant and forbearing. She could not deny that they had their brief moments of teasing and flirtation. She remembered, with a skip in the beat of her heart, the clear statement he had made about his wishes for their last dance. However, it had only been since her accident that he had been solicitous of her company. At Netherfield, he had only occasionally spoken to her and more than once appeared indifferent to her presence in the room.

  “I cannot say for certain, Papa. He does not appear disinterested, and, indeed, at times he is very attentive. I do believe he enjoys conversing with me, but there are times I can tell that my presence near him is discomfiting.”

  Mr. Bennet was beginning to suspect that Mr. Gent did return feelings for his daughter, and the thought brought mixed feelings. He decided that he would need to brave society a bit more and observe the gentleman. He needed to get a better understanding of the man.

  Elizabeth continued, “We have never really voiced our preference for each other. Perhaps if Mr. Gent felt similarly towards me, he would have said something.” The thought weighed on her heart as she realized that, although they had many pleasing interactions, Mr. Darcy never indicated any preference towards her other than that statement before their last dance. It was not Elizabeth’s nature to open her heart to anyone but her father, and indeed, it would have been improper for her to do so with Mr. Darcy before he indicated something himself. She had given him encouragement with her smiles and teasing conversation and so concluded that his heart must not be touched.

  She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes briefly. Her heart spoke that she should still hope, but the reasoning of her mind did not listen.

  Mr. Bennet watched the actions of his daughter and, putting his own feelings aside, spoke tenderly to her. “Well, Lizzy, a man like Mr. Gent may not yet know his heart well enough to express his feelings. Do not let this trouble you. We gentlemen usually never know our heart until a lady comes to introduce it to us.”

  Elizabeth opened her eyes and smiled thoughtfully at her father. He had given her reason to hope.

  Voices made their way through the house, indicating the rest of her family was beginning to stir. Reaching for her father’s hand, she said, “Thank you, Papa. I believe our peace is about to be disturbed. Do you have much business today?”

  “Not much, dear. I plan to go now on a ride about the property. There is a tenant I need to speak with and a fence I need to inspect, that is all.”

  “Would you care to come with me on a walk, perhaps this afternoon?”

  “I look forward to it, dear.”

  “I, too, sir. I think I will go see Jane now. We did not get a chance to speak last night, and I suspect she will have much to talk about.” With a wink and a kiss on his cheek, she left the room.

  He watched her exit and remained for a moment looking at the closed door. Where did the years go? With a heavy heart and a small sigh, he rose and prepared to leave for his ride.

  * * *

  Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy tipped their hats to each other as they parted ways on the road outside of the gates of Netherfield. Mr. Darcy was out for his morning ride and Mr. Bingley was headed to Longbourn.

  Mr. Bingley’s horse could feel his rider’s nervousness. He flicked his head side-to-side, flinging his mane and blowing out a huff of steam from his nostrils in protest of his master’s distraction. In response to his horse’s protests, Mr. Bingley patted his head and gave in to a faster pace. He was headed to Longbourn to speak to Jane and request permission to court her. He could not understand why his heart was beating so soundly at the thought. He knew that, if he was honest with himself, he really wanted to ask her a different question — one that would bind her to him for the rest of their lives. Although he felt she was partial to him — indeed, he believed she loved him as he loved her — he decided instead to ask to court her. His intentions were honorable, but he did not want to move too quickly. If he knew for certain that she would be amenable to the idea, he would have proposed last night. Thinking of his lovely Jane made him smile and caused his heart to skip a beat. Oh, my sweet Jane. You are an angel!

  Mr. Bingley spent the rest of the ride to Longbourn imagining how Jane would look when he arrived. Would she wear that pretty yellow dress she wore last Sunday that he liked so much? He tried to formulate plans for getting an opportunity to speak with her privately. Perhaps a walk in the gardens?

  * * *

  After discussing a needed repair with a tenant, Mr. Bennet mounted his horse and began his ride back home. About a quarter mile from the house, there was a small rise in the land that provided an excellent vantage point of the surrounding area. It was where he often stopped his horse and gazed at his home, just visible in the distance. Upon reaching the summit, he came upon another rider sitting motionless, with his eyes fixed on Longbourn.

  He was surprised to see that the other rider did not acknowledge his approach and was amused when the gentleman turned only as Mr. Bennet’s horse moved beside his.

  Startled from his reverie, Mr. Darcy shifted slightly at the sudden appearance of Mr. Bennet next to him. He was instantly embarrassed at his distraction and at being caught woolgathering, especially by the father of the woman about whom he was thinking.

  “Mr. Bennet, sir. I did not hear your approach.”

  “Mr. Darcy, good day. No, I believe you were quite otherwise occupied. This rise is a particular favorite of mine as it provides a vast view of the area. Tell me, what particular prospect has caught your interest?” Mr. Bennet could not help the provocation.

  Mr. Darcy hid his embarrassment well as he turned to his companion. “Nothing in particular, sir. It is as you say: the area provides a vast view and I stopped to admire it all.” He hoped his feigned indifference was convincing. He had been out riding that morning to try to clear his thoughts — and also to avoid Miss Bingley — when he discovered the small hill. To his delight, he recognized that from there he could see Longbourn. He was simply unable for a time to turn from the view, wondering what Elizabeth might be doing and what she was thinking. He had been picturing her impertinent smile, bright eyes and pink lips when his thoughts were interrupted by her father. He cringed inside
at the luck of it and attempted to clear his thoughts with a deep breath as he turned to Mr. Bennet.

  “Mr. Bennet, sir, are you out for a ride this morning?” He did not know the man very well and decided, since he needed to speak with him about Wickham, he had better begin with some neutral topic.

  “I am, sir. I had some business to conduct on the south end of my estate. I came this way to inspect a fence nearby. Would you accompany me, sir? I understand you have an estate of your own, and I would value your opinion.” As much as he wished he had no need, Mr. Bennet knew he should try to get to know the gentleman on his right because, if it was as he suspected, the man was in possession of one of his dearest treasures: his Lizzy’s heart.

  “It would be my pleasure. My estate, Pemberley, is in Derbyshire.” He attempted to mimic the levity in Mr. Bennet’s voice as he turned his horse to follow him.

  Thus began a pleasant discussion of land management, drainage and crop rotation. Though stilted at first, Mr. Bennet’s natural, unaffected personality and Mr. Darcy’s enjoyment of estate management soon made conversation easy.

  Mr. Darcy was surprised to find in Mr. Bennet a man of great thought and less indolence than he had come to understand. He had heard that Mr. Bennet was not a competent property manager, and while the estate had once brought in six thousand a year, it was generally believed that it now produced only two thousand. He could not suppose that the thorough, knowledgeable man he was speaking with could be anything less than an excellent manager of his estate. Then why the rumors of his diminished wealth?

  At the same time, Mr. Bennet was finding in Mr. Darcy an impressively intelligent gentleman who took the affairs of his estate seriously, unlike many of his generation who left much of their business to stewards as they lived lives of leisure. It impressed him that Mr. Darcy was so knowledgeable at such a young age. As they discussed various details pertaining to typical estate matters, he found Mr. Darcy’s forward thinking impressed him greatly. His suggestion for the problem with the fence they had inspected was not only clever but it would cut the costs of the repair significantly without lowering the quality of the workmanship.

  After finishing their inspection, Mr. Darcy turned to his companion. “Mr. Bennet, it is fortunate that you came upon me today. There is something I had intended to discuss with you.”

  Mr. Bennet snapped his teeth together and tried to appear indifferent to the words that had once again set his mind thinking about losing Elizabeth. He hoped that was not what Mr. Darcy wanted to discuss because, although he had come to respect the gentleman greatly in the short half hour they had spent together, he was not yet ready to hear the words that would take his Lizzy away. He simply nodded for Mr. Darcy to continue, fearing his composure might give way if he spoke.

  “Mr. Bennet, it has come to my attention that your youngest daughters have made the acquaintance of a certain member of the regiment in Meryton with whom I am also acquainted.”

  The relief that flooded through Mr. Bennet at that moment almost made him laugh out loud, and he spoke with a slight chuckle in his voice. “Indeed, sir. I am sure they have made many acquaintances amongst the officers. Of whom do you speak?”

  “Of a Mr. Wickham, sir.” Mr. Darcy’s voice was grave, and the sound of it depressed Mr. Bennet’s lively demeanor.

  With furrowed brows, he replied, “I have heard them speak of him; however, I have not had the opportunity to meet the man. You say you know the gentleman?”

  “He is no gentleman.” Mr. Darcy spoke harshly but then quickly recovered from his sudden anger. “I apologize, sir. I do not want to presume to tell you what you ought to do with your own household, but I feel it incumbent upon me to warn you that your daughters are not safe with Mr. Wickham.”

  The steely set of Mr. Darcy’s jaw made Mr. Bennet curious at his strong reaction to Mr. Wickham, and he felt it necessary to ask the nature of their acquaintance. Darcy’s pain at having to disclose some particulars of his relationship with Wickham became evident to Mr. Bennet, and he was thankful to Darcy for taking the opportunity to warn him. That such a scoundrel could be amongst society and not be known was unbelievable to Mr. Bennet.

  Mr. Darcy had not intended to go into specifics with regards to his history with Wickham, but something about Mr. Bennet had reminded him of the wisdom of his own father. Before even realizing it, he had related the whole of his history, including the painful betrayal of Georgiana. It had felt like a purge to his system finally to talk about it. It surprised him that the only other person besides his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam to know of what happened at Ramsgate would be, of all people, Elizabeth’s father.

  “Mr. Darcy, I must thank you for warning me about Mr. Wickham. I can assure you that, after hearing what you know of the man, I will not allow him further acquaintance with any of my daughters. You are a good man for being willing to lay out your personal dealings, some of which I can see are quite troublesome to you, in order to protect my family. I assure you that you have my secrecy regarding what you have told me. I will not betray your confidence regarding the pain you and your sister have been dealt at the hand of Mr. Wickham, but I will protect my family. I trust that I may do whatever is necessary with your permission?”

  “Yes, sir. I have come to respect Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth as our acquaintance has furthered during my stay in Hertfordshire, and I would not wish to see either of them, or someone they care for, pained by the likes of Mr. Wickham. I have already informed Colonel Forster about his character, and he has promised to keep a close eye on the man. It is the most I can do,” he added, with frustration.

  “You have done more than enough, sir. Let the rest of us take it from here, and do not let it trouble you further.” He offered Mr. Darcy his hand and was gratified when it was readily accepted. “Well, Mr. Darcy, my estate business is concluded. Would you care to join me back at Longbourn for a glass of brandy? You look as if you could use one after this discourse.”

  Mr. Bennet watched as, at the mention of returning home with him, Mr. Darcy’s gaze fixed on the direction of Longbourn despite it no longer being in view. He seemed to think about it for a minute and even smiled a little bit.

  “I thank you, sir, but I cannot accept for today. Our previous discussion on estate matters reminded me of a letter I must send to my steward at Pemberley regarding a matter of concern we are working through. Perhaps another time.” Mr. Darcy pulled out his watch to check the time, and a sudden smile spread across his face as he caught a glimpse of the silk flower hidden in it. He had forgotten about placing it there the night before, and he was sorely tempted to change his mind and accept Mr. Bennet’s invitation, but he could not. He had ridden out that morning to clear his thoughts a bit, and seeing Elizabeth would not help that at all — however tempting it was.

  With obvious reluctance, he bid his farewell with thanks for the pleasant company and shook Mr. Bennet’s hand again.

  “I enjoyed our conversation, too, Mr. Darcy. I may pick your brain again sometime about that four-crop rotation plan you say you implemented last year at Pemberley.”

  “It would be my pleasure, sir. Good day.”

  “Good day, Mr. Darcy.”

  Mr. Bennet waited only a moment before turning his horse away and riding in the direction of home. He felt a little less concerned over losing Lizzy to such a man. Although he was not sure whether he would ever find a man truly worthy of his bright and witty little girl, he was beginning to think Mr. Darcy came pretty close. Oddly, Mr. Bennet had begun to think of Mr. Darcy as a son not long into their amicable conversation. Mr. Bennet admitted to himself that if he had had a son, he hoped he would have turned out much like Mr. Darcy. Riding about the estate and inspecting it with Mr. Darcy brought back visions he had had for himself and the son he was sure he would produce but had not. He pondered these strange impressions all the way back to Longbourn and further as he settled himself into his chair in the library with a glass of brandy. His thoughts returned to the discussion
earlier with Lizzy regarding Mr. Darcy. When is a father allowed to stop worrying about the happiness of his children? The answer was never. He took another drink.

  Chapter 7

  When the house came into view, Mr. Bingley sat up straighter in his seat and nervously fingered his cravat. He had asked his valet to tie it into a more formal knot than was usually appropriate for a simple morning call. He hoped that it would present him in the most favorable light to his Jane, but as the house came closer, he repented that request, as now the knot began to feel restrictive around his neck.

  No sooner had he dismounted than the doors of the house opened and Mrs. Bennet came quickly out to greet him.

  “Mr. Bingley, you are welcome to Longbourn. Did you have a pleasant ride, sir?”

  “Indeed, I did, ma’am,” he replied, smiling widely at her.

  One hand instantly rose to cover her beating heart even as the other fanned her face. He marveled at the flush of her face, and he considered it odd that she appeared about to swoon at his smile. He turned his gaze towards the door and noticed Jane standing in the entryway. All thoughts of her mother’s strange behavior vanished at the vision of the woman he loved.

  Jane was exquisite in a light blue morning dress that matched her eyes perfectly. The yellow dress was forgotten at seeing the way the blue complemented and warmed the ivory softness of her skin. Her smile was delightful, and he could not believe his good fortune that she was, indeed, happily greeting his arrival. He returned a broad smile and broke into a long stride to close the distance to her.

  “Miss Bennet, good morning to you.” He bowed over her hand as she curtsied.

  “Welcome to Longbourn, sir.” She blushed slightly at his light touch and stepped aside to allow him access to the house.

 

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