The Companion

by Jann Rowland

  “It must have been,” added Anne, turning to Elizabeth with a playful glint in her eye. “Otherwise, I do not have doubted Elizabeth would have demanded a carriage to return her to her uncle’s home.”

  “You are not being fair to Miss Bennet.” The company turned as one to see Colonel Fitzwilliam walking toward them. He bowed to the ladies and greeted Miss Darcy with affection and then addressed Anne again. “I am certain our Miss Bennet would be more likely to insist that she could just as easily return home in a hack, as to demand a carriage.”

  Anne laughed and pressed a fond hand to Elizabeth’s arm. “That is a very close likeness to my dear friend. You would do that, would you not?”

  “I believe I will refuse to answer, Anne,” replied Elizabeth. “If I confirm your supposition, I appear to be demanding, while the colonel’s suggestion makes me seem a little silly. If I leave you all guessing, it adds a bit of mystery, do you not think?”

  They all laughed at her reply, and even Miss Darcy, who seemed startled at their playful manners and looked at Elizabeth with wonder, was seen to have an almost unwilling smile on her face.

  “Oh, do let us stop this teasing,” said Anne. “What did your uncle say?”

  “He has granted his permission,” replied Elizabeth. “But he said he would like to see me to hear for himself what has happened to necessitate this change in plans.”

  Anne’s face fell a little. “Likely as not he will not wish you to stay here when he hears of my mother’s behavior.”

  “I hardly think that likely,” said Elizabeth, squeezing her friend’s hand in support. “Mr. Gardiner is intelligent and fair. He would understand that you were not to blame.”

  “You must have him come here whenever convenient,” said Anne, throwing off her earlier dismay. “Then he may learn for himself what has happened and be reassured that you have not fallen in with those of questionable character.”

  It was Elizabeth’s inclination to laugh at Anne’s jest, but she happened to catch sight of Mr. Darcy when Anne suggested Mr. Gardiner visit Mr. Darcy’s house, and his look of distaste. All the ill feelings she had ever felt for Mr. Darcy flooded back in that instant, and she was offended on Mr. Gardiner’s behalf.

  “Oh, that is not required, Anne,” said Elizabeth, deliberately avoiding the sight of Mr. Darcy to avoid castigating him. “I am certain I can hail a hack to take me to my uncle’s home. I would not presume to impose my relations on you when I may go there just as easily.”

  In light of Anne’s earlier jest, Elizabeth did not expect anything other than a laughing response from her friend. “You do have the strangest sense of humor at times, Elizabeth. Of course, your uncle may come here.”

  “Indeed, I second my cousin’s sentiments.”

  Elizabeth turned a bland expression on Mr. Darcy. It seemed, little though Elizabeth could credit it, that Mr. Darcy was abashed, as if he was aware that she had seen his reaction. And well he should be, thought she, for it did not speak well of a man to think poorly of another because of his profession and without actually meeting him.

  “In fact,” said Mr. Darcy, “Mr. Gardiner will no doubt wish to see your situation here for himself, as he is your de facto guardian while you are in London. I will write another note to him and inform him that he is welcome to visit at any time convenient. I will be happy to receive him and answer any questions he might have.”

  Elizabeth returned his look, wondering if he simply meant to mollify her or if he was serious in his desire to show respect to her uncle. In the end, Elizabeth decided it did not signify.

  “I appreciate your civility, sir,” replied Elizabeth. “His attendance will be predicated on his availability, but I imagine he would come within the next day or so.”

  “Then we will await his coming. If you will excuse me, I shall write to him immediately.” Mr. Darcy then rose and went to a small desk situated between two windows on the outer wall and wrote a quick note, which was quickly delivered to the housekeeper. Then Mr. Darcy rejoined the rest of the group.

  “Miss Bennet,” said he, “can you tell me anything of your uncle’s business?”

  For a moment Elizabeth thought to throw Mr. Darcy’s belated interest—which stank of attempting to appease her—back in his face. Her mind was changed, however, by the interest he seemed to radiate, and the fact that she could not, in good conscience, behave with anything other than perfect civility to anyone, regardless of how objectionable she found him.

  “He is an importer, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth.

  “That is interesting,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Darcy, did you not say that Bingley’s father was an importer?”

  “His uncle still runs the family business,” replied Mr. Darcy, though he appeared a little uncomfortable at the mention of Mr. Bingley. “Bingley is following his father’s wish of purchasing an estate and joining the ranks of the landed gentry, but his uncle is quite content to remain in trade.”

  “That is interesting, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth, “for by my account, Mr. Bingley has neglected his estate sadly. Does this mean that he has no intention of purchasing Netherfield? If so, it would be better for him to give up the place so that another family could move into the neighborhood.”

  This time Mr. Darcy’s discomfort was more apparent, though he quickly moved past it. “I have not seen Bingley in some months, Miss Bennet, for he has gone to the north to visit his family. It is quite possible he shall visit there rarely in the future, and it would not surprise me at all if he was to give the place up entirely. But that will be for him to decide when he returns.”

  “And when do you expect him back?”

  Mr. Darcy smiled. “Given Miss Bingley’s affinity for society, I would expect their return at any time. However, Bingley himself can be somewhat unpredictable, as he confirmed himself last year. I do expect them to return before the season ends.”

  “Enough talk of Mr. Bingley and his dynastic ambitions!” exclaimed Anne. “I am much more interested in this news of Mr. Gardiner’s import business.” Anne turned to Elizabeth. “What does your uncle import? Is there anything of interest to young ladies?”

  “Many things,” replied Elizabeth, amused at her friend and suspicious she had interrupted their conversation due to its tense undertones. “He imports primarily from the orient, though he also has contacts in the continent. I have often found lovely fabrics in his stores and have had gowns made from them.”

  “Excellent!” said Anne. “I think we should pay a visit to Mr. Gardiner’s warehouse.”

  Anne turned an expressive glance at Elizabeth and they fell to giggling together, and even Georgiana, who still appeared unsure of Elizabeth, joined in their conversation. The gentlemen looked on indulgently, and Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge that though Mr. Darcy was often as objectionable as any man she had ever met, he looked on his sister with the devotion of a beloved brother. She could not fault him for that.

  Chapter XV

  The presence of Miss Bennet in Darcy’s home was like a fine wine—something to be served chilled and savored on the tip of the tongue. Darcy had often imagined her in his home in town and at Pemberley, had envisaged the joy and delight he would receive from nothing more than her mere presence, being witness to her wit and liveliness, debating and discussing items of common interest, living with her as his wife and lover.

  And that was, of course, the dilemma. Darcy had left Netherfield almost a half a year earlier intending to remove himself from the temptation of her incandescence, and though he had never forgotten her and had, at times, indulged in reflection of what his life might be like with her in it, he thought the distance had been achieved successfully. Her objectionable situation had not changed in the intervening months, regardless of her kindness in befriending Anne and enduring his Aunt Catherine.

  Now that she was in his home—and, indeed, had been there only a few short hours—the temptation had returned tenfold, and Darcy knew not
how he would ever resist her call. How could a man possibly escape her? It was unfathomable that he would not be drawn to her, that he would remain unaffected by her, a woman he was becoming more and more convinced was the perfect mate for him. If only she possessed some connections to those for whom he would not be required to blush!

  But the invitation had been issued—though Darcy realized he never should have offered it—and since Anne depended on her, there was nothing to be done. For a moment during that long afternoon when she took great pains to become acquainted with his sister, Darcy thought it might be best if he invented some excuse to repair to Pemberley, to remove himself once again from her presence. That would not do either; Fitzwilliam, and perhaps even Anne, would soon see through his subterfuge, even if Miss Bennet did not. And see through it he thought she would. She might understand and even applaud his decision, for she was an intelligent woman. But he would not behave in such a way.

  The evening passed amicably for all involved, and they sat in company until the ladies decided that the excitement of the day necessitated an early night. They retired amid whispered plans concerning what they intended to do the following day. Left at loose ends, Fitzwilliam challenged Darcy to a game of billiards. It seemed, unfortunately, that Fitzwilliam had something other than a simple game in mind when he made his challenge.

  “You do understand that Miss Bennet noted your reaction when Anne suggested her uncle come here, do you not?”

  Darcy, who had just broken, shook his head and concentrated on sinking his next shot. He had not lost control of his reactions in some time, but the presence of Miss Bennet was enough to leave him feeling disquieted and uncertain.

  “I see you do,” continued Fitzwilliam. “Might I ask what prompted it? Is Mr. Gardiner so objectionable that the thought of his visit is enough inducement to offend a young lady who is a guest in your home?”

  “I have never met the man,” said Darcy, the loud clack of the cue ball striking another accompanying his words and feeling a proper outlet for his current unsettled feelings.

  Fitzwilliam’s eyebrows rose at his confession. “Then what prompted you to behave in such a way?”

  His next shot presenting itself, Darcy lined up his cue and struck the ball. Unfortunately, his pique led him to strike the ball too firmly, and the shot went awry. A grin appeared on Fitzwilliam’s face, and he took Darcy’s place, his questioning glance displayed as he went.

  “Mrs. Bennet—Miss Bennet’s mother—is perhaps the most uncouth woman I have ever met. She is loud and obnoxious, openly schemes in a mercenary manner, and proclaims the incomes of every single gentleman in the county with avaricious precision. Mr. Gardiner is her brother; I have little hope he will prove to be any better than his sister.”

  Fitzwilliam struck another ball, which went neatly into the corner pocket. He stopped to survey the table and when he had done so, he moved to his next position and sighted down the length of his cue, measuring the long shot. “I cannot believe you would be so close minded. Consider this: are my father and Lady Catherine the same people? Are they so alike as to be indistinguishable from each other?”

  “You know they are not,” replied Darcy. He watched Fitzwilliam as he carefully aimed, the uncomfortable inference of Fitzwilliam’s words convincing Darcy that he had not considered the matter properly.

  “Then you should not judge Mr. Gardiner until you have met him.” With a loud clack, Fitzwilliam sent the cue racing toward another, striking it neatly and inserting it into the side pocket. “By all accounts, he is successful, and a man does not have success in business by being a fool. Furthermore, Miss Bennet obviously esteems and respects him, and as she is an intelligent woman, I believe you must allow her the benefit of understanding what constitutes good behavior.”

  As Fitzwilliam moved from shot to shot, Darcy watched him and thought of his words. It was clear he had not considered the matter in any detail, and to his discomfort, he knew it was because of Mrs. Bennet and her obviously improper behavior. Fitzwilliam was correct—it would not do to prejudge the man before he had even made his acquaintance.

  “Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy quietly. “You are correct, of course.”

  “Well, the man will be here within the next day or two, so you will be able to judge for yourself.” Fitzwilliam sunk another ball and then laughed. “If he is objectionable, your house will withstand the pollution it will receive in the short amount of time he is here.”

  Annoyed, Darcy frowned at him. “Do you take me for Lady Catherine?”

  “No, my dear cousin. Sometimes you only resemble her. It must be the family connection.”

  In this instance, the barb was uncomfortably near the mark, and Darcy decided it was best to remain silent. Darcy knew himself to be demanding, and at times it led him to be critical of those who were not his circle, little though he cared for many of them. But he was not all pride and haughtiness, as his friendship with Bingley showed. This Mr. Gardiner was at the same level Bingley’s father had been—he could meet the man without reservation and proceed based on how he behaved.

  “Besides,” said Fitzwilliam as he strode to another part of the table, “if you mean to impress Miss Bennet, insulting her dear relations is not the best way to guarantee your success.”

  “Impress Miss Bennet?” asked Darcy. “Of what are you speaking?”

  Fitzwilliam only shook his head and took his shot—a carefully and slowly struck ball which impacted against the black ball, sending it rolling toward the corner pocket, where it disappeared into the depths. With a satisfied nod, Fitzwilliam took his cue and placed it into the stand, then turned to face Darcy.

  “Thank you for an excellent game, Cousin. I believe I shall now retire.”

  “And what of your comment about Miss Bennet?”

  “Exactly what I said.” As he passed by Darcy, heading out of the room, he clapped him on the shoulder. “You were quite transparent with your admiration, old boy. I am certain even Anne noticed, though perhaps Miss Bennet did not.”

  And then he was gone, leaving Darcy to his thoughts.

  The next day the ladies decided to stay close to the house, and though Elizabeth would have liked to walk to the park she had seen through the window, she resisted its beckoning call in favor of staying with Anne and coming to know Miss Darcy better. Mr. Darcy was not much in evidence that day, as he had informed them he would be away from the house on a matter of business. Elizabeth wondered if he intended to absent himself to avoid her uncle’s coming, until he drew her aside before departing to inform her of the truth of the matter.

  “I received another note from your uncle this morning,” said he. “It seems he will be unable to visit today because of some matter which has arisen. He instead proposes to come tomorrow morning, to which I have agreed.”

  Elizabeth nodded, considering how it had not been required for Mr. Darcy to explain this to her. “He is often quite busy—some days my aunt quite despairs of him.”

  “The life of a man of business,” replied Mr. Darcy with a nod. “I remember Bingley’s father was much the same.”

  “It is much the same as managing an estate, is it not?” asked Elizabeth, curious to hear what he would say.

  The smile Mr. Darcy directed at her contained a wry quality. “At times, I feel it is, especially in the early spring and the autumn harvest seasons when I am much engaged at Pemberley. But a man of business is often obliged to deal with such matters on an ongoing basis, whereas the life of a gentleman leaves much more time for leisure. In the winter, particularly, there is little to be done on an estate, and though I busy myself with other projects and have other business interests to manage, I would never say that your Mr. Gardiner is not busier than I.”

  Elizabeth absorbed this and nodded, knowing that he was correct. A gentleman could be as involved or distant from his estate as he pleased, even on a large estate, as long as those he employed were trustworthy and knowledgeable. Her fa
ther, even though he had no steward, certainly held the estate at arm’s length, though he did do what was necessary to keep his family clothed and fed. Mr. Darcy, it seemed, was much more involved.

  “I am happy to receive Mr. Gardiner tomorrow,” continued Mr. Darcy, “and have structured my schedule accordingly. I shall complete my tasks today so that any work I must do tomorrow may be done from my study. Thus, he may call at any time.”

  “Thank you, sir,” replied Elizabeth, not quite knowing what to say.

  “It is no trouble, Miss Bennet. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be about my business.”

  With a bow, Mr. Darcy said his farewells to his sister and cousin, and he left the room, Elizabeth staring after him as he went. She was uncertain what to make of him. Even her own observations—to say nothing of what others had told her about the man—were contradictory and confusing, and she felt herself wondering who Mr. Darcy truly was.

  “Now, what shall we do today?” said Anne, interrupting Elizabeth’s thoughts. “My cousin has been given the day to herself, so we will necessarily be required to amuse her.” Anne turned a mischievous grin on Miss Darcy, who blushed and looked down. “To be honest, I suspect that Mrs. Annesley has done it only to have some time away from a most difficult charge.”

  “Anne!” exclaimed Miss Darcy, forgetting her shyness.

  But Anne only laughed, and soon the younger cousin was forced to join her, though her embarrassment lingered.

  “I know much about difficult charges,” said Elizabeth, winking at Miss Darcy. “After all, I spent more than a month acting as Anne’s companion.”

  “Elizabeth!” This time it was Anne’s turn to protest, though Miss Darcy giggled, as Elizabeth had intended.

  “I have heard that you are very accomplished in music, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth, turning away from Anne very deliberately. “Perhaps we should retire to the music room, so you may dazzle us with your skills.”

  Once again the girl ducked her head. “You should not believe everything William tells you, Miss Bennet.” It took Elizabeth a moment to realize she was speaking of her brother. “He is a most attentive and encouraging brother, but I believe he is too kind when he praises me.”