by Ola Wegner
Her thick, black eyelashes fluttered, and she took a step away from him, straightening her back. “I am afraid, sir, that the breakfast is not yet ready. It will be served in two hours. However, I will ask cook to prepare some eggs and tea for you.”
“No, that is not necessary,” he assured hastily. “I thought that I would go for a walk before breakfast.”
She tilted her head to him, resembling a curious little bird. “Perhaps you would prefer taking one of my father’s horses?”
He hesitated, not wanting to upset her by riding an animal which belonged to her father. “I am not certain whether I should…”
She shrugged. “They are only horses. Papa had several stallions. He liked to ride daily.”
As he could not see any new distress in her face, he nodded. “I would like that.”
“I shall show you to the stables then.” She stepped out of the room first, and he followed her.
They were near the staircase when she turned to him. “I will run upstairs for my shawl, the mornings are still chilly.”
Waiting for her to get back, Darcy pushed the main door open, allowing light and fresh morning air into the darkened foyer.
“Mr. Darcy!” he heard a faint shriek and stiffened.
Mrs. Bennet approached him with one of the younger girls in tow. It must be Kitty, he realized, the one who most resembled Elizabeth in appearance, with her slight build and dark brown hair. Mary was the one with glasses, and Lydia was the large, buxom blonde with red cheeks.
“Oh, my goodness, Mr. Darcy, what are you doing up so early?” his future mother in law questioned.
He bowed. “Good morning, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Catherine. I was about to go for a morning ride.”
The woman seemed to digest his answer for a moment. “Have you had breakfast?”
“No, I have not, however…”
He did not finish, as he was interrupted. “You cannot go without breakfast, Mr. Darcy!” the woman announced with energy. “You may faint in the saddle.”
“I assure you that I have ridden before breakfast many times before, and I have never felt unwell.”
Mrs. Bennet looked unconvinced. Thankfully, Elizabeth’s light steps were heard on the stairs.
“Mama, I will show Mr. Darcy to the stables. He wants to have a morning ride.”
Mrs. Bennet turned to her older daughter. “He says that he does not want breakfast.”
“I have already proposed eggs and tea to him, but he claims that he will eat later with everyone.”
“It is not healthy. He should eat, such a big man.”
Darcy frowned, not enjoying that they were speaking about him as if he was not present, or was a child.
He cleared his throat, extending his arm. “Shall we, Miss Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth came to him quickly, taking his arm. A warm woolen shawl was draped around her shoulders. Her braid was twisted and pinned low at the back of her head.
“I will be back soon to help you, Mama,” Elizabeth assured.
“Stay away from Devil,” he heard Mrs. Bennet exclaiming as they were outside the house.
“Who is Devil?” Darcy asked as Elizabeth directed them across the front lawn to the smaller side buildings.
“One of my father’s horses,” she explained. “Mama hates him. She called him Devil when Papa brought him to the house for the first time. Papa decided it was a very fitting name, taking into consideration the animal’s temper and the fact that he is entirely black. Mama is of opinion that Papa bought him just to spite her.”
Darcy raised his eyebrow. “Did he indeed?”
She shook her head. “I do not think so. He previously belonged to Sir William Lucas, but he was so wild and unrestrained that no one at Lucas Lodge was brave enough to mount him. Papa said that the horse was still young and could be trained. He bought him rather cheaply, I believe. ”
Darcy’s interest was instantly piqued. He enjoyed spirited animals. “Had your father succeeded in his training?” he wanted to know.
“Yes, I believe so, to an extent. He was able to ride him himself, but prohibited any of us from even coming close to him.”
As they entered the stables, Darcy found without trouble a tall, glossy black horse.
“This is Devil,” he more stated than asked.
“Yes.”
Darcy opened the stall, and confidently, but calmly, approached the horse.
“Be careful, he can bite and kick,” he heard Elizabeth’s voice behind him.
Darcy put the harness gently on Devil, and led him out of his stall.
“Beautiful,” Darcy murmured, stroking the animal’s neck. “I will ask Collins if he would mind selling him to me.”
“Are you certain you wish to ride him?” she questioned quietly, glancing nervously at the black beast. “There are other horses. Calmer ones.”
He turned to her, his attention taken away from the horse for the first time since they had entered the stable.
“I like spirited animals. I shall be fine.” He touched her chin. And spirited women. They are both a challenge to ride. He added in his thoughts only.
She sighed in resignation, but pointed to one of the stalls. “The saddles should be there.”
A few minutes later, Devil was saddled, and Darcy led him outside. Elizabeth followed them, but kept at a safe distance.
Darcy turned to say goodbye. “I should be back before nine. I may bring Bingley with me,” he mentioned casually. “I hope that your mother will not mind me inviting him for breakfast.”
Her eyes widened, and she stood speechless for a longer moment. “Mr. Bingley is here? At Netherfield?”
“When I talked with him the day before yesterday, he planned to travel to Meryton the same day as us.”
“How?” She shook her head. “You saw Mr. Bingley? Talked to him?”
He nodded. “The day after we returned to London. I confessed everything to him, meaning my involvement in separating him and your sister. He was not pleased. However, he seemed to forgive me when I told him that Miss Bennet still thought warmly of him.”
Her face lit up. “Why have you not mentioned anything before now?”
He shrugged. “There was no time or opportunity.”
His breath was momentarily taken when she crushed herself against him, her arms locked around his neck, kissing his cheek. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, her entire face lit up. Her first real smile since the news about her father had come, he noted.
He laughed, fully using the chance to keep her in his arms. “I think that I like the manner in which you thank me.”
She smiled, and regretfully stepped away from him. “Please be careful,” she motioned her head towards the horse that was standing calmly nearby. “He was named Devil for a reason.”
“You have nothing to be worried about. I can manage him,” he assured, and before he could lose his courage, he cupped her cheek, bowed his head, and lightly touched her lips with his. It was a quick and chaste kiss, but still an audible gasp escaped her lips.
He mounted Devil and kicked his sides, setting him into an immediate gallop, and rode away.
***
The abundant breakfast was getting cold, and still there was no sight of Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth glanced nervously at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was almost half past nine. He had been gone for three hours. What could have delayed him for so long? She prayed that it was not Devil’s fault. She ordered herself to remain calm. Mr. Darcy was an excellent rider. As she had observed him galloping away, and she could see that he was in full control of the animal.
“Mama!” Lydia exclaimed, her nose glued to the glass of the window. “Someone is coming. Two riders.”
Mrs. Bennet hurried to her side. “Mr. Darcy and…” she narrowed her eyes, craning her neck to see better, “and… Mr. Bingley… Can it be?”
Elizabeth felt that the time for some explanation came. “Yes, Mama,” she said, glancing at Jane. She did not mention to Jane the possibility of
Mr. Bingley’s visit. She was afraid of raising her sister’s hopes, only to have her disappointed if Mr. Bingley did not come after all. “Mr. Darcy mentioned to me today that he saw Mr. Bingley in London a few days ago, and informed him about our… about Papa. I think that Mr. Bingley wishes to pay his respects.”
“Of course!” Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands, laughing. “Mr. Bingley is Mr. Darcy’s dear friend, after all. Your marriage, Lizzy, shall benefit us in so many ways! Matters are going so well.”
“How can you say so, Mama?” Elizabeth cried sharply, rising abruptly from her chair. “Papa has just died, and you laugh and clap? How can you? How can you keep saying that matters are going well? Not even once have you mentioned him! Not even once!”
Tears in her eyes, Elizabeth stared at her mother, who only gaped at her, mouth wide open. She expected her to say something, but she waited in vain.
With a sob, she turned on her heel, tripping over the chair, which fell to the carpeted floor with soft thud. In her rush, she bumped into Mr. Bingley in the entrance to the room.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Bingley spoke with visible concern, steadying her with one hand on her elbow.
Not lifting her eyes, she pushed past him, and ran forward. This time she crashed into Darcy.
“Lizzy, love, what is the matter?” he questioned frantically, taking in her pained expression.
“What happened?” He shook her gently.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I simply need a few moments to myself. I will go for a walk to clear my head.”
“Allow me to accompany you.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I want to be alone.”
“Please, I will be sick with worry,” he insisted. “You are distressed. You should not go on your own.”
“Very well,” she agreed, knowing too well that he was too stubborn to give in.
He would have followed her anyway even if she had insisted on going alone. She needed to go out desperately. She could not stay in the same house with her mother in her present state.
She sprinted out of the house towards the gardens and small park, and soon she was out in the open pasture. As she glanced over her arm, she saw that Darcy was only one step behind her.
He did not attempt again to ask her what had happened to put her in such a state, for which she was grateful.
At last, exhausted with her almost running pace, she lowered herself to the ground, sitting under a tree growing at the border between two fields.
“You must forgive me, Mr. Darcy, for dragging you here,” she said after a long moment of silence.
He was seated against a low tree branch, not far from her spot.
“You must think me wild and unstable,” she commented.
“I would only wish to know what put you in such a state. Perhaps I could help.” His voice sounded both concerned and reassuring, but not judging.
She stared down, pulling out blades of grass with her fingers, uprooting them from the soft ground. “Mama has not even once mentioned Papa since I came home. She behaves as if nothing has happened. She is enraptured because I caught a rich man, as she puts it… Now, when she heard about Mr. Bingley’s return… she forgot completely that we are to bury Papa tomorrow. I understand that she did not love him, that their union was not blessed with happiness, but she was married to him for over twenty years. Should she not feel a hint of sadness? Some regret over his death, especially in such tragic circumstances? He was not perfect, but he never mistreated her, as it is heard with other husbands. I cannot comprehend it.”
He came closer, blocking the sun. As she looked up, she saw him kneeling next to her.
“It is out of my experience, I am afraid. My parents greatly loved each other,” he shared. “I remember that they touched and kissed in front of me when I was little. When my mother died… my father went almost mad with sorrow. He was never the same.”
“You were fortunate indeed to be born into such a family, even if you had both of your parents beside you for such a short time.”
“Do you wish to return?” he asked, rubbing her back.
She shook her head. “Not yet, but you should go back.”
“I will stay with you as long as you wish me to.”
“You do not have to feel obliged to stay here with me,” she murmured.
“I wish to be with you when you are happy, and when you are sad, like now,” he acknowledged quietly.
She met his eyes, taken aback with the sincerity of his expression. Over the last few days, this man whom she had considered almost her enemy, seemed to transform into her best friend. How could this be?
Chapter Ten
If Elizabeth expected that her mother would wish to have a conversation with her about what had happened between them, she was met with disappointment. Mrs. Bennet pretended as if nothing had happened. As Elizabeth and Darcy returned from their prolonged walk, Mrs. Bennet behaved as usual. The only difference was that she avoided looking directly into Elizabeth’s eyes.
Elizabeth considered whether she should ask her mother for a private conversation. Eventually she decided against it. She found no strength in herself to do that. She was afraid of what she might hear from her mother, and she was not at all certain whether or not she wanted to hear it. Such a conversation between them would probably change nothing. She doubted whether they would ever understand one another. Her only hope was that her mother possessed enough sense to behave with moderation in front of their neighbours during their mourning period.
The bitter truth was that she was in no place to judge her mother. She herself had agreed to marry a man whom she did not care for only to secure herself a life of comfort. Would she become her mother in thirty years? Would she feel nothing if Darcy was to die first? Would she be relieved, feeling no connection to him on the day of his funeral? It was the last thing that she wanted for herself.
Darcy seemed so convinced that they would be happy together. He did not fear their future. On the contrary, he anticipated it, he was filled with hope. He certainly did not wish for them to be strangers living under the same roof. He was so affectionate with her, open, attentive, kind, considerate. He was wrong about many matters, but she could not deny that he was more than eager to repair his mistakes in order that he might please her. She had never remembered her father acting in such a manner towards her mother.
On the day of the funeral, Elizabeth was busy, along with her sisters, preparing the house for the mourners. She was relieved that women did not attend the funeral, as she doubted whether she could maintain a polite, indifferent façade. Hearing from her uncle that her father’s body was in such a state that the coffin could not have been opened to anyone’s view, was quite enough for her. She did not want to watch as it was lowered into the grave.
As the guests were filling the drawing room, she observed with relief that her mother and younger sisters behaved appropriately. Her mother was perhaps a bit theatrical in her gestures, pretending to dry her eyes with a lace handkerchief every second minute. However, Mrs. Bennet did refrain from informing everyone of her great fortune in procuring such as a son-in-law as Mr. Darcy.
As for Elizabeth’s betrothed, he sought her eyes from the moment he entered the house with Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bingley. She instantly felt comforted and calmed with the sheer sight of him. She wished to lean into him, and feel his arms around her, which was hardly possible in the room full of people.
The guests were in the middle of consuming a late lunch, seated at the long table which had been brought out from the dining room especially for the occasion. Sir William was just raising his voice to remind everyone what a good neighbour and honourable man Mr. Bennet had been, when there was a commotion heard outside the main entrance of the house.
Mrs. Bennet hurried to the window to see who had arrived. She was not expecting any new additions to the party. Silently, she gestured to Elizabeth and Jane, who came to her side.
“Who is that?” Mrs. Bennet won
dered. “What a grand carriage,” she observed. “It must be someone important.”
“Oh, no…” Elizabeth whispered, her eyes widening as she recognized the woman stepping out of the carriage.
“Do you know her, Lizzy?”
“I do, Mama,” she said, and without saying more, she walked directly to Darcy, who was seated beside Mr. Bingley.
As she stood by his chair, and leaned to him, she instantly had his full attention.
“Is something the matter, dearest?” he asked, not minding that his best friend was listening.
“Your aunt is here,” she whispered into his ear. “She has just arrived. She is outside the main entrance.”
It took him a moment to register her words. “I shall deal with her,” he whispered back, discreetly rising from his seat, making his way through the crowded room.
“Where is she? Where is that insolent girl?” the loud, feminine voice hollered through the house.
Darcy hastened his pace, almost running towards the door. Elizabeth had never seen him move in such a hurry.
The door was pushed open, their butler unceremoniously shoved aside, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh stood there in all her glory, dressed in a wine coloured dress with three green feathers protruding of her bonnet. The representatives of all the four and twenty families which the Bennets had relations with craned their necks from their places at the table to see what the commotion was about.
Darcy blocked his aunt’s way, not entirely politely, but effectively removing her from the entrance to the drawing room.
The guests remained perfectly silent as everyone listened to the woman’s words. “I must speak with her this instant! You cannot forbid me, nephew!”
She was quiet for a moment, and Elizabeth guessed that Darcy was trying to explain the situation to her, because soon another wave of furious bellowing was heard.