He pulled his stallion to a halt atop the last rise before Netherfield and gazed back at Longbourn’s roof in the distance. What was Elizabeth thinking at that moment? Was she as conflicted as he? Would she welcome him as a suitor?
Boreas shifted beneath him, impatient to reach the stables. “Easy,” he soothed.
It was settled! He would meet her for her walk on the morrow and see how their friendship progressed. Bingley had a ball planned for Tuesday next. If all went well over the next week, he would request a courtship.
His family might be disappointed in his choice initially, but they would have to welcome her. Once she accepted his hand, they would have no choice.
Chapter 9
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth’s hand flew to her heart when she rounded the hedgerow and almost collided with his chest. “I thought you would be near the stile.”
“Then my company is not unwelcome?” He pinched his lips together to prevent a smile.
“You are well aware that your company is most welcome.” Her cheeks crimsoned, and the cool breeze of the morning dried his gums and teeth as he grinned.
“I am pleased to hear it. Otherwise, Boreas missed his daily run for naught.” He presented his elbow and a certain satisfaction rushed through him when her small fingers pressed against the thick wool of his great coat.
“I could not deprive your horse of his exercise.”
“Bingley and I plan to ride to the south end of Netherfield’s property when I return. He will stretch his legs and enjoy a race while he is out of his stall.”
“Ah, then I shall not worry that he is neglected.”
Her lips curved a mite on the ends. She appeared pleased at his presence, yet she had every morning this week when they met at the stile. When he awoke, he was all anticipation until he set eyes upon her, picking her way through the trail. His palms itched until she placed her petite hand in his as he helped her descend the stile.
Their conversations had also expanded to consist of more than just Georgiana. Discussions of books, current events, and even Pemberley filled their mornings. As they spoke further of different subjects, he increasingly admired her fine eyes and the steadfast opinions she professed as they debated—even when she later confessed she had altered her opinion for the sake of the argument.
“You have become quiet. I hope there is naught amiss.”
He started and gazed down. Her brows were drawn and her teeth wore at her lip.
“I am well. I meant to ask how the party at your Aunt Philips’ passed as I forgot to ask yesterday.”
“I have never been so eager to return to Longbourn.”
Good Lord, what could have transpired to warrant such a reaction? “You did not have difficulties with Wickham, did you?”
“He was present, and I felt as though he watched me a great deal. I cannot explain, but I was uncomfortable most of the evening with him present. It might have been my imagination, but—”
“But it may not have been. My actions in Meryton would not have gone unnoticed. He knows I do not usually extend my protection to just any lady.”
She looked off to the right. The brim of her bonnet blocked his sight, so even should he lean forward, he could not see her reaction.
“My father caused a maelstrom within the house by pronouncing Lydia and Kitty were not attending. I have never heard such wailing and complaining, but he stood his ground.”
“I am surprised your mother did not object.”
A wry laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, she objected with much enthusiasm. My father merely informed her she would remain at Longbourn with her youngest daughters should she not cease her complaints.”
“He did?” He had underestimated Mr. Bennet.
“I have never witnessed him put Mama or my youngest sisters in their place. Jane, Mary, and I were informed we were not to converse with any of the militia alone, and he remained nearby for the entirety of the evening. Mr. Wickham never had an opportunity to approach me, much less speak without my father or one of my sisters nearby.”
“I am relieved to hear it.” Her father’s actions in this situation were wise. The man could not be too careful when protecting Elizabeth.
Darcy filled his lungs to quell the quivering in his belly. “I hoped you would reserve the first set for me on Tuesday night?”
Her head whirled around to reveal her slightly open mouth. “You want my first?”
He halted and turned to face her. “And the supper, if you are willing.”
“Mr. Darcy, you will have the neighbourhood tongues wagging.”
“Would you object?”
Her eyes widened. “I…”
“Please say what you will. I must confess I have met you every morning in the hopes of learning whether I would gain a favourable answer to a request of courtship.”
“I did not expect…”
He removed her hand from his arm and held it between his own. It fit so well, her buff kid leather glove encased in his palms. “You did not expect me to request a courtship?”
“No, I convinced myself you merely sought kindness after the horrible events in Ramsgate. My connections and my family’s wealth are not enough to warrant such attention from you.”
Her voice was faint. Was she displeased? Could she be upset by his revelation? His thumb began to caress her knuckles as his mouth became dry. He tried to swallow, but it was as though a brick had lodged itself in his neck.
“I have wanted so much to prove I am not the insulting man of the assembly. I have no need of a large dowry or grand connections through my wife. I desire more—because of you. I desire a wife who will care for me and not my property or my relations, so how can I not search for a lady whose desires match my own?
“You proved in the library at Netherfield that you care naught of material considerations. You have shown sympathy for my sister’s plight, and I know you would care for her as though she were born a sister and not merely a sibling through marriage—your generous heart would allow no less.”
Her head shook. “I do not deserve such praise, Mr. Darcy.” A tear dropped from her eye upon her cheek, and he brushed it away with the tips of his fingers as she released a shaky breath. “I told myself at almost every meeting that you sought someone with whom to speak of your troubles. I told myself that I could not form a tender regard for you, lest I be broken-hearted when you depart Hertfordshire. I reminded myself time and again, yet I failed miserably.”
Something in his chest jumped as his hands gripped hers. Did she say what he thought she had? “You failed?”
“Yes, I have come to realize that I care for you, but I continued to tell myself that you could not pursue me. I had to make some attempt to protect my heart.”
His hand cradled her cheek. “You will allow me to court you then?”
“Yes,” she whispered with shiny eyes.
He removed her gloves and pressed kisses to the backs of her hands. How his lips ached to claim hers! But it was too soon. Her whispered, tremulous voice and her timidity indicated she was overwhelmed by his request. She would need some time to accustom herself to their new relationship; he could not rush matters.
“May I go to your father?” He put her gloves in his pocket and removed his own. His fingertips skimmed against the soft flesh of her wrist and through her palm.
“You may, though I shall require my gloves before I return.”
“I had not planned on keeping them, but I have longed to touch you without the impediment.” She trembled. “Are you cold?”
“A little.”
He helped her replace her gloves and placed his great coat upon her shoulders. A smile lit his face at its length as it dragged the ground. “I never thought of men’s attire having trains.”
She glanced behind and giggled. “They could be quite fashionable. Perhaps someone should make one for Beau Brummel, then all the men of London would rush to their tailors for their own.”
How he adored her wit! She was never speechl
ess and always voiced her opinions with intelligence and humour, never professing to be something she was not. Elizabeth Bennet was Elizabeth Bennet. Her nature was without artifice, which drew his notice more than any other attribute she possessed.
Her free hand kept the hem of his coat from grazing the carpet of leaves upon the ground while she took his proffered arm.
“When would be best to speak with your father?”
“What is the time now?”
His pocket watch was retrieved and opened. “Almost ten o’clock.”
“He will have just finished his breakfast. I suggest just after eleven. Hill brings him tea near that time while he sees to the business of Longbourn, though I am certain he would welcome the interruption. He is not fond of estate business and attends to it swiftly in order to enjoy his books.”
“That should give me adequate time to retrieve Boreas and exercise him before I arrive at Longbourn.”
“I was surprised you did not ride him today.”
He covered her hand with his free one. Why had he replaced her gloves?
“I rode him from Netherfield to the copse of trees near the stile where I tethered him to a low branch.”
“He could not be happy to be deserted for all this time.”
Darcy gave a small shrug. “He is well-trained, and I shall give him ample time to run before my arrival at Longbourn.”
Too soon, the familiar hedgerow that separated Longbourn’s garden from the fields appeared, and Elizabeth removed her hand from his arm to return his greatcoat. He shrugged himself into it and grasped her hands, entwining his fingers with hers.
“I shall see you soon.”
Her head gave a slight bob, yet she was silent as he bestowed kisses to her knuckles.
“Do not accept Mr. Collins before I arrive.”
One side of her lip curved into an impish smile. “Then, perhaps you should not tarry.”
Elizabeth backed from Mr. Darcy. His expression at her retort was quite amusing. She would derive a great deal of enjoyment from surprising him in the future. His eyebrows lifted and a wide grin stole across his face. There was the other dimple!
When they met at the stile, both dimples were visible, and showed themselves with a frequency she had not seen in the past; however, she would not tire of their appearances. They gave her a pleasure she had not the words to explain.
As soon as she rounded the hedgerow, she ran to the rear door and hastened inside. How she appreciated the warmth of the kitchen on a chilling day. Mr. Darcy’s coat had certainly helped, and it smelled of him as well. Who knew a gentleman’s scent could be of such comfort?
She peeled her gloves from her fingers, so she could untie her bonnet. Once she removed her pelisse, Hill entered and started.
“Miss Lizzy, you have returned.” Hill took the garments from her arms. “I shall bring these to your chambers. Food is laid out in the breakfast parlour, and I just put a fresh kettle of tea on the table.”
“Thank you, Hill.”
When she reached the breakfast parlour, she stared at the offerings before her. How could she eat? Mr. Darcy would be here in less than an hour to speak with her father, a part of her trembled at the notion. She was to be courted by Mr. Darcy. It could not be real!
Her nerves were unequal to sitting idly until he arrived, so she departed to play the pianoforte, which was always of benefit when she was anxious or unhappy. Her fingers fumbled and slurred through the short etude she selected, and Elizabeth sighed when it was completed.
“You must be at sixes and sevens to forgo breaking your fast for practising.”
Her heart leapt as her head jolted in the direction of the doorway where her father stood, appraising her over his spectacles.
“Join me in my study, Elizabeth. I believe we should have a talk.”
She bit the inside of her cheek as she followed. Once she was seated in her usual chair, her father passed behind her before he walked around to his own seat.
“We have not had a chance to speak since Mr. Darcy called. I cannot say what shocked me more—the confessions and gentlemanly bearing of Mr. Darcy or your acceptance and behaviour towards the man.”
“I had the opportunity to sketch his character more fully when I stayed at Netherfield and found him to be the opposite of my initial perception.”
“Indeed. By my observation, Mr. Darcy is not an outgoing man. I would imagine the assembly, the neighbourhood ladies, and your mother were overwhelming to one of his reserved disposition.”
Her fingers found a small pull in the fabric of her skirt, and she stared at the misplaced thread as she scratched at it. “He has indicated as much.”
“Are you aware that Mr. Hill witnessed him walk you to the edge of the park yesterday?”
She gave a sharp inhale as her eyes jerked to her father’s. “Mr. Darcy accompanied me on my walk, and when I was to return home, he escorted me to the hedgerow to ensure my safe return. I swear we do nothing more than talk.
“You are well aware Mr. Hill would never tell a soul other than you. My reputation is safe.”
His lips drew tight. “I know that Mr. Hill will not breathe a word, yet we cannot discount the possibility of your being seen by another servant who is not as discreet or a Meryton gossip.
“Mr. Darcy is a wealthy man, and while he may appreciate your wit and intelligence, it is unlikely he would make an offer of marriage. If he were forced by idle conjecture, he might come to resent you, and you him. It would pain me to see you trapped so in marriage.”
“Mr. Darcy will call at eleven o’clock to request a courtship.”
Her father’s face paled. “Truly?”
“Yes, sir. He claims to have considered the situation for the past week and has no need of a dowry or further connections.”
As the colour returned to his face, her father cleared his throat. “I did not think you could shock me as you just did. You are certain of your acceptance?”
She clasped her hands in her lap. “Since Netherfield, I have told myself time and again that he could not offer for me. I attempted with all I have to protect my heart, but as of late, those reminders have become painful. My heart is engaged, Papa.”
“I am sure you will be pleased to forgo the attentions of Mr. Collins.”
He smiled as she groaned. “I shall be satisfied if our cousin found a new object to shower with his compliments. I confess his efforts are wasted upon me.”
A knock at the front door could be heard in the silence. Her father glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Your young man is early.”
“Perhaps it is not him.”
Low tones could be discerned through the door and her father smirked. “He could wait no longer, I suppose. His impatience counts in his favour, but if he has seen your worth, I have no choice but to think highly of him.”
“You will not tease him?” A wicked grin was her answer. “I shall remain then. I would not have you scare him for some sort of a joke.”
He waved his hand in her direction. “I would not go that far, Lizzy.”
A knock sounded upon the door of the study, and Hill entered. “Mr. Darcy has called, sir.”
Elizabeth and her father rose as Mr. Darcy entered. He stood tall and his face was dour—much as it had been at the assembly. How did she not realize earlier that his taciturn expression was a mask? He was ill at ease. Could he be nervous?
“Please have a seat, Mr. Darcy.” After their initial greeting, her father resumed his place in his favourite chair, while Mr. Darcy remained standing. “My daughter and I have been having an enlightening discussion prior to your arrival.”
Mr. Darcy’s questioning eyes met hers, and she gave a slight shake to the head that was hopefully, not noticeable to her father. Would Mr. Darcy understand?
“Lizzy, Mr. Darcy and I shall get along well enough without you. You might take your breakfast while we talk.”
“If it is all the same, Papa, I shall remain.”
Her father
gave an amused bark. “She means to protect you, sir.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks burned. “Papa! Perhaps it is that I worry you will exercise your wit upon Mr. Darcy when he is not equal to it.”
“I shall be well, Miss Elizabeth.” His lips curved upwards at the ends, and his eyes crinkled at the outside edges. “Though I do appreciate your defence.”
“Do you object to my remaining?”
“I have nothing to say which you cannot hear.”
Her shoulders, which had tensed during their exchange, relaxed as Mr. Darcy came to stand behind the empty chair.
“Mr. Bennet, I have come to enjoy your daughter’s company immensely. She is witty, intelligent, and has a compassion lacking in many of society. I have requested her permission for a courtship that she has granted. I now seek your permission.”
Her father waved his hand. “Take a seat, young man. My daughter came home from her walk this morning, did not partake of any breakfast, and began to play the pianoforte, an indication she is either out of sorts or anxious. She revealed the intention of your visit prior to your arrival.
“First, I do give you my permission, and I wish you luck. My daughter can be formidable when she is in high dudgeon. You are a brave man to consider her for a wife.”
“Papa!” How could he!
“You opted to stay, remember? Since you will not allow me to tease your young man, I shall exercise my wit upon you.”
A glance to Mr. Darcy revealed the end of a fist to his mouth as he restrained his laughter. “I thank you for your protection, Miss Elizabeth.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have a long memory, gentlemen.”
Her father leaned and placed his forearms upon his desk. “I must confess that I am most concerned with your morning walks.”
Mr. Darcy paled and opened his mouth.
“Before you say a word, Mr. Darcy, I believe you to be an honourable man, yet I do have concerns. I do not want either of you pressed to wed before you are certain of one another. One of my servants saw you with Elizabeth behind Longbourn.” Before Mr. Darcy could speak, her father continued. “Fortunately, Mr. Hill can be trusted to keep quiet. If another person witnessed one of your meetings, I could not guarantee matters would remain silent—especially if the news reached my wife’s ears.
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