An Unexpected Merry Gentleman

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An Unexpected Merry Gentleman Page 5

by Anngela Schroeder


  Victoria nodded eagerly. Miss Darcy hesitated before she turned to the couple. “William, we wish to see the new puppies in the stables. Would you object?”

  “Not at all, dearest, if Miss Bennet agrees,” he said, turning to look at Elizabeth, “we will follow you forthwith.”

  Elizabeth nodded her assent, and Emily and Victoria giggled again, taking Miss Georgiana’s hand and running toward the stables.

  “They are good for her,” Darcy said, looking at Elizabeth and shortening his stride so she might match his own.

  “I believe she is good for them, sir. If little Lizzy Bennet had had a Miss Darcy to show her the proper decorum of a young lady, little Lizzy would not have broken her arm when she was ten. Hopefully, my young cousin will not suffer the same fate.”

  “Might I inquire?” he asked, the twitch of a smile she was beginning to adore peeked forth again.

  She shook her head, curls bouncing under her bonnet. “No, sir. You must guess. I will not divulge all my secrets and shameful conduct.” She felt a laugh bubbling up and checked herself before she sounded like Lydia.

  “Very well, then,” he said, opening the gate into the stable yard. “Falling from a tree?”

  “No.”

  “From a fence?”

  She shook her head and accepted his arm, suddenly aware of his brawn beneath the greatcoat. She took in a quick breath and blew it out, turning so he would not see her discomposure. Lizzy, calm yourself. You have spoken with handsome men before.

  “Miss Bennet, are you unwell?”

  She started at his question and attempted to calm the blush for fear he might read her thoughts. “I assure you I am well.” She looked up at him playfully. “Have you given up, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Certainly not. There are only so many ways a gentleman’s daughter, albeit ‘little Lizzy Bennet,’ could break her arm. Now, no tree, no fence… Did you fall from a rooftop?”

  “A rooftop? Really, Mr. Darcy!” She laughed at his raised eyebrow. “Very well. I concede I have climbed to the rooftop, but that was not how I broke my arm.”

  “Falling off a horse?”

  She cocked her head to the side and grinned. “Now you know why I do not ride, sir.”

  “You fell from a horse while riding?”

  “No, while trying to mount.”

  “To mount? Did you not have a mounting block? Or assistance?”

  They could hear the yipping of the puppies and the squeals from the girls across the stable yard.

  “It is not as you think, Mr. Darcy.” Her impertinent thoughts began to falter, and she felt the stirrings of the stupidity of youth mixed with the humor of impracticality. “Jane and I were playing at Charlotte Lucas's home. Sir William was not Sir William then. His sons were in the barn saddling the horses, and we three wandered in. They were mounting the horse by jumping from the rafters.”

  She paused. “They said only men were brave enough to mount horses in such a manner. Any girl would be too scared to jump. In my ten years, I had never backed down from a challenge where I felt my honor was at stake, and I could not start then.” She shrugged her shoulders, and a winsome look passed across her features. “I am sure you can imagine the outcome.”

  “Did the horse move on its own, or did the boys spook it?”

  “Oh, no. My dear Jane’s scream as I launched off the hayloft did the trick.” Elizabeth felt herself grin. “She has never forgiven herself, but I tell her I enjoy walking a great deal, and my arm healed in a few months’ time. All was well in the end.”

  “You are a marvel, Miss Elizabeth.”

  “‘Marvel’ is better than ‘tolerable,’ I suppose. I am satisfied.”

  “I assure you, madam, I have come to regret those words.”

  She stopped at the tone of his voice and looked into his eyes, uncertain of what she saw. However, her own confusion was growing at the continual warmth coursing through her when around him.

  “Might I beg your forgiveness?” he asked. “I do not deserve it but will ask all the same.” She looked away, knowing he spoke of the Meryton assembly. “I was in no mood to go into company that night nor for most of the trip. I did not even look in your direction before I had said the words, which were not only beneath me but wholly untrue.” He stopped and caught her eyes with his own. “You are much more than tolerable, Miss Elizabeth,” he whispered. They stood there in silence until the spell was broken at the sound of laughter coming toward them.

  “Oh, Lizzy, is he not the most perfect little thing you have ever beheld? Do you think Mama will allow us to keep him?”

  Her cousins held a black ball of fluff with a pink tongue licking their faces and a tail furiously wagging. Their giggles were contagious, and Elizabeth walked over to stroke the puppy.

  “Oh, he is a beauty, but I do not think he will like life in the city.”

  Mr. Darcy added, “This breed needs to run and stretch its legs as he is born to hunt grouse. I doubt there is much grouse in London.”

  Upon seeing the looks on her cousin’s faces, Elizabeth said, “However, I am certain Mr. Bingley would not be averse to you visiting the puppies while you are at Netherfield.”

  “And he might allow you to name him,” Miss Darcy interjected.

  Elizabeth was grateful for Miss Darcy's kindness, but Emily quickly replied, “He already has a name,” she said, scratching the puppy's ears. “He is ‘Pepper’ because of the spots on his nose.” She nodded her head and cooed to the dog in her arms. “Right, Pepper? Are you not a good boy?”

  “Either way, Miss Darcy is right. Shall we go discover Mr. Bingley’s opinion on the pup’s name?”

  "What an excellent idea,” Mr. Darcy said, extending his arm to Victoria and Emily. “Allow me to escort you, ladies.”

  A pretty blush came across their cheeks as a stable boy came to take the dog away. However, to Elizabeth’s vexation Emily turned back and bellowed at the stable boy, “Make sure Pepper is given milk and fresh hay to rest upon. I will not have our dog getting cold or hungry tonight.”

  Elizabeth almost stumbled from shock as Mr. Darcy winked at her before heading toward Netherfield with the little Gardiner girls.

  Chapter 5

  Upon This Blessed Morn

  The night had crept in too quickly for the Miss Gardiners and soon they were tucked in bed, listening to a story of Father Christmas read by their favorite cousin. As Nanny was looking wan, Elizabeth and Jane had offered to help her aunt with the girls.

  Elizabeth leaned in to kiss their foreheads when Emily began to giggle. Soon Victoria joined in and the bed was alive with merriment.

  “And what do you imps find so amusing now?” Elizabeth asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging Emily’s braid.

  The two girls looked at each other again and laughed anew as Jane hushed them. “What is all this about?”

  Unable to stop giggling, Emily said, “Oh, Lizzy. It was so…so…odd….”

  “Pardon?” Elizabeth asked, cocking her head. “‘Father Christmas’ is one of your favorites.”

  “Not that, Lizzy. How you blushed when talking to Mr. Darcy!”

  “Emmy!”

  “It is true,” Victoria continued. “You said no one would ever look at you like that, and Mr. Darcy did! He had hearts in his eyes!”

  Elizabeth shook her head while her cousins’ mirth settled.

  “I wonder what it like is to be in love. Jane, what is it like?”

  “Emily, that is an impertinent question!”

  “I don’t mean to be impertinent. I just want to know. What if a boy tells me he loves me? Will I turn pink right away? Will he have hearts in his eyes from the first time he sees me?”

  “Emily, it is not always like that. Sometimes love is more restrained,” Jane said tucking the blanket around Victoria.

  There was a knock at the open door, and Elizabeth turned to see Miss Darcy. “I hope I am not interrupting? I wished to say goodnight to my young friends.”

  �
��Oh please, come in,” Emily said, sitting up in bed and reaching out her hand. “Maybe you could help us. Lizzy and Jane are not very good at explaining things.”

  “I will do my best, but I assure you, if the Miss Bennets are baffled, then…” She walked to the bed and took the girl’s hand.

  “Have you ever been in love, Miss Darcy?”

  “Emily! Just because you feel you can ask us questions as we are your cousins, do not badger poor Miss Darcy with your impertinence.”

  The young girl lowered her head with the full effects of the set-down.

  “There, there. It was a sincere question, and I am certain no disrespect was intended.” Miss Darcy sat on the bed next to the Bennet sisters and squeezed Emily and Victoria's hands. “Not too long ago, I did believe I was in love. He was someone I had known many years and I thought he felt the same for me. However, now I have come to realize I was not in love nor was he. In First Corinthians, it says ‘Love is patient, love is kind; it does not boast…’ The man I believed loved me was not any of those things, yet he flattered me into believing he was good. If I had listened to my heart, I would have realized I was too young to understand what love was.

  “Someday, you will find love, just as I will. I hope there is a man out there like my brother. He is truly the best of men.”

  “Yes,” Emily agreed, while Victoria’s braids bobbed up and down. “He truly is. I wonder if he would wait for me to come out,” she thought aloud. “I have never met another boy like him, and he is so handsome. Much more so than Mr. Wickham.”

  “Mr. Wickham?” A choked cry came from Miss Darcy’s lips.

  Looking from Miss Darcy to her older cousins, Emily quickly replied, “He is Cousin Lydia’s favorite officer, but I do not trust him. Do you know him?”

  She swallowed quickly and stood to go, surprising Elizabeth. “Yes. He grew up on my family’s estate. I am proud of your discernment, Miss Emily, and encourage you to always follow your instincts. They appear to serve you well.” She made her way toward the door and offered a hesitant smile before exiting. “Goodnight.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence after her departure, which gratefully Emily and Victoria did not seem to sense.

  “Jane, I would so much like to give Miss Darcy a gift for Christmas. May we?” asked Victoria, sitting up in bed.

  “Oh, yes! May we please?” Emily echoed. “She is so kind, and I know she would love it.”

  “And what is this ‘it’ you plan to give her?” Elizabeth asked, standing to blow out one of the candles, casting the room in a dim glow.

  “Hmm…I am not sure.” Victoria tapped her chin, while Emily bit her lip in imitation of their older cousins.

  “She does love to play the piano. What if we bought her sheet music?”

  Elizabeth leaned down and tucked the blankets around her youngest cousin. “That is a wonderful idea, Emmy, but we are unaware of the music she already owns.”

  The girl silently nodded.

  “What if we each sketched her a picture of her home?” Victoria asked.

  “Of Pemberley?” Jane asked, bending down to kiss her forehead.

  “Yes, of Pemberley.”

  “But, you have never been,” Elizabeth said, kissing her brow.

  “But Mr. Darcy has a miniature. Miss Darcy told us he does. Would you ask him if we could see it, Lizzy? Please?”

  “I will ask, but do not be disappointed if he refuses.”

  “He will not refuse if you ask him.” Emily's braids whipped around as she shook her head. “Mr. Darcy has hearts in his eyes when he looks at you, Lizzy. He will not say no to you.”

  “Emily Elizabeth!”

  “But…but he does, Lizzy,” she said. “Do not be cross at me. I am only telling the truth.”

  “Mr. Darcy does not like me in that manner. We are civil acquaintances. Nothing more.”

  “But, he looks at you as Mr. Bingley looks at Jane.”

  “Victoria Anne!”

  “Girls,” Jane said, “it is not proper for young ladies to speak so. Both Lizzy and I know you are not impertinent, but there is no understanding between Mr. Bingley and me. We have to temper our words. We do not wish to expose ourselves to ridicule and speculation.”

  The speech was lost on the children who were once again consumed with giggles and unable to sleep.

  Elizabeth quietly closed the door to Netherfield’s nursery. At last, after another quarter hour of the girls’ gaiety, she and Jane were able to quieten them. Their eyelids were heavy, their breathing even, so she left her sister in charge of the young sprites.

  As she walked down the hallway, thoughts she had repressed for the last few days simmered to the surface. From Sarah and Nanny’s story, my aunt’s letter from her friend in Lambton, and my father’s not allowing him at Longbourn, I am certain Mr. Wickham is not a man to be trusted.

  She ambled past the footmen lighting candles and hanging boughs of greenery and berries in the hallways. Her fingers brushed the hall tables teeming with displays of pinecones and berries. And what of Miss Darcy’s reaction to Mr. Wickham’s name? He had claimed she was a haughty, proud young woman. Yet, I find her kind, shy, and unassuming. But, what of his dealings with Mr. Darcy? His story rings true, and the master of Pemberley has all but confirmed it with his actions toward him. However, Mr. Darcy has surprised me lately. He appears so unlike my first impressions.

  She rounded the corner of the hallway past more busy servants and slowed to a halt at the yuletide display. The berries and greenery had been woven with pinecones and tied with ribbons to the banister all along the stairwell. Candles placed in front of mirrors illuminated the hallway created a shimmering sight. “Beautiful.”

  “I agree.” She turned to see Mr. Darcy step toward her. “Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” she sputtered in surprise. “I was coming from the nursery and was just admiring the splendor.”

  “Yes,” he said, looking at the decorations. “It is quite festive.”

  “I do love the holiday season. I think the people of Netherfield have outdone themselves.”

  “As do I. There is nothing more cheerful during the holidays than the ornamentation of one’s home by bringing nature in.”

  She felt a giggle rising up and bit her bottom lip.

  “Miss Elizabeth. Do I amuse you?”

  “No, sir. It is only you reminded me of something ‘little Lizzy Bennet,’ a true lover of the outdoors and the wonders of the season, attempted, much to the consternation of her mother.”

  “I am all anticipation,” he said with amusement in his voice.

  She shook her head at the memory. “I was seven. Our mother’s cousins were visiting for the Christmastide, and their sons were quite merciless to Jane and me. They would steal our dolls and cut up our ribbons, anything to harass us and make tender-hearted Jane cry. I decided to retaliate by attacking them with snow balls.”

  “I would expect nothing less.”

  She colored and continued. “I did not want them the opportunity to defend themselves, so it was to be an attack when they were most vulnerable.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Most vulnerable?”

  “Yes. My plan was to attack while they slept!”

  A roar erupted from Mr. Darcy, and his smile spread from ear to ear. “You attacked them in their beds with snow balls?”

  “That was our plan.”

  “Tell me you were successful!”

  “Alas, no matter the amount of snowballs Jane and I packed and hid in my closet to use that evening, they continued to melt.” Her eyes twinkled as she sighed, shaking her head. “We were soon discovered as water dripped through the ceiling and into mother’s drawing room, warping our floorboards and ruining her settee.”

  His laughter filled the hallway. “You are a wonder!”

  “I am certain my mother would still disagree with you, all these years later.” She turned to look down the hallway away from his handsome face. I cannot stop my cheeks from
burning. How disconcerting.

  His dimple made another rare appearance as he said, “With no disrespect to your honorable mother, I disagree. There is a vivacity in you, a joie de vie, which others should emulate.” She felt her heartbeat increase. As the dinner gong sounded, he offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  His question was met by a nod as she attempted to gain some equilibrium.

  As they descended the stairs dressed with beribboned greenery and holly, she remembered her young cousins request.

  “Mr. Darcy. Emily and Victoria wish to make a sketch of Pemberley…for Miss Darcy.”

  “But they have never seen it.”

  “Miss Darcy informed them you have a miniature that you carry when you travel?”

  “It was my father’s,” he said, reaching into his breast pocket.

  “My cousins worry Miss Darcy might miss her home and wanted her to have a picture for when she travels as well.”

  “They are thoughtful girls. My father carried this with him,” he said, pulling the miniature from his pocket, “to always remind him of the responsibilities he had. He gave it to me and impressed upon me the care I must take of those who rely upon my estate for their very livelihood.” He held out the miniature to her. “Pemberley is not just a grand estate, Miss Elizabeth. It is the air I breathe, and its blood runs through me. I do not take my stewardship lightly. Pemberley is me, and I am Pemberley.”

  Her fingers brushed his as she reached for the miniature. The painting was masterfully executed and she traced the angles of the building with her finger.

  “If this is an accurate rendition, sir, you have much to be proud of.”

  “Pemberley shines much brighter than the artist captured.”

  “And yet,” she said, “with your obvious pride and the beauty of your great estate, you treat it so callously?”

  “Callously?”

  She arched her brow in response. “You so willingly hand over your estate to me, sir, without even a thought to anything you have mentioned? Your tenants, your servants, and your ancestral bloodline? All of this you freely give to the daughter of a country squire?” she asked with laughter in her voice as she held the miniature in her palm.

 

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