His spirits plummeted at the memory of that dreadful time. “No, my mother is gone these sixteen years.”
Mrs Bennet gasped and pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, how tragic. A motherless child—and no sisters either, the poor dear. I suppose when you take a wife, Miss Darcy shall be very glad of it.”
He merely nodded; her obvious intent not lost on him. Of all the matchmaking mothers he had encountered, without a doubt, this one must be the most shocking. However, he could not deny the truth of her statement. Georgiana did indeed need the guidance of another female to prepare for her launch into society, and when the time came, his future wife would assume that responsibility.
As she had done throughout the meal, Elizabeth kept her eyes averted and blushed brightly. With such a family, he could not fault her for being embarrassed. Undoubtedly displeased by her mother’s display, she escaped to another room as soon as supper ended. Afterwards, he found her outside on the veranda hiding in a dark corner.
“I beg your pardon, Mr Darcy,” she said, her voice strained with tension. “I find myself apologising for my mother more often than not.”
“What was that about?”
“Please do not ask; I am mortified. You cannot imagine how boastful she is.” Unfortunately, he did not need to imagine it; she had put both of her daughters forward the last time he had seen her. “She is bound to say something she ought not, and I beg you to take no offence to her, or to my absurd cousin.”
He could not bear to see her so distressed and offered his arm. “Come walk with me, Miss Elizabeth. It will not do to have you seen lurking in the shadows.” He guided her along the veranda, nodding to the other guests as they passed by. An awkward silence loomed between them, and he could think of nothing to say to ease her anguish.
“I would understand if you do not wish to dance with me again.”
Although he had already convinced himself that he ought not give the gossips more reasons to speculate by dancing again, now that his temper had abated, he thought better of it. This would probably be his last chance to dance with Elizabeth. His visit would end soon, and he did not wish to deny himself this last pleasure. “I hope you have not decided to refuse me,” he said.
She gazed upwards at him, revealing a pained crease between her brows. “You are too kind, Mr Darcy.”
He scoffed. “I am nothing of the sort. The truth of the matter is, I am a selfish fellow, and I want to dance with the prettiest girl at the party.” Her tremulous smile encouraged him. “Will you indulge me?”
She agreed, and he guided her back into the ballroom to take their places in the set that was forming; the final dance of the evening and his last dance with the fair Elizabeth Bennet was about to begin. He was determined to enjoy every moment and carry those memories back to London.
Chapter 12
After the ball, Elizabeth retired in the small hours of the morning, recalling Darcy’s kind eyes when she had escaped to the veranda to compose herself. Her mother’s vulgar outburst at supper had mortified her beyond all bounds. She had been certain he blamed her for her mother’s presumptions, but he had come looking for her. He had neither admonished nor judged her; he had simply walked with her. He must have known that walking always soothed her soul; before long, she had forgotten all about the disastrous supper conversation and lost herself in the music of the final set.
She finally fell asleep, her mind full of Darcy.
In her dreams, they danced in silence, much like the final set of the ball. She doubted her feet ever touched the floor during that set. His touch had been gentle, his eyes had been fixed on hers, and he shimmered with light. However, as she slept, her family did not embarrass her, she and Darcy danced alone in the ballroom, and the music never ended. She awoke with a smile and a sense of perfect harmony.
Her thoughts returned to Darcy’s intense gaze throughout the evening. If she had not known better, she would have thought she’d imagined it. By the end of the evening, she no longer doubted the meaning of the glowing light. Although he had not yet declared himself, she knew without question that Mr Darcy of Pemberley loved Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.
Even though their circumstances were vastly different, such matches were not uncommon. In fact, their differences extended to more than their fortunes. She was lively, while Darcy was reserved. She often spoke out of turn; he measured every word. But then, he had an excellent intellect, and he shared her sense of humour. Most importantly, he loved her. Affection in marriage had always been of the utmost importance to her, and she had been blessed to find a man she could truly esteem.
Would he reveal his regard? Would he offer for her? She revelled in the possibilities.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she had eaten little at supper last night. Tired but hungry, she hurried through her morning toilette and joined her family for breakfast, partaking of eggs, toast, and tea. Pale and half awake, Mr Bennet preferred only black coffee. However, her younger sisters babbled on endlessly about their conquests of the previous evening. Although Elizabeth declined to join their conversation, she silently rejoiced in her own success. Judging from Jane’s serene smile, she had also captured her favourite’s fancy.
Mr Collins entered the dining parlour and made his bow, but instead of following his usual practice of going to the sideboard and selecting his breakfast, he addressed himself to Mrs Bennet. “Might I hope for a private audience with your fair daughter Elizabeth in the course of the morning?”
Elizabeth sent a pleading glance to her mother, hoping for her intervention. Although she had suspected Mr Collins might approach her, she had no notion that he would do so this morning, nor did she wish to receive his address. Under no circumstances would she be compelled to accept him, even if he did have a good living and a humble parsonage within a half mile of Rosings.
Mrs Bennet merely shook her head at his request. “Elizabeth? Oh no, Mr Collins. I fear you may have made a little mistake. ’Tis not Lizzy you should speak to but Mary,” she said, gesturing in Mary’s direction.
Mr Collins cast unappreciative eyes at poor Mary and frowned. “I assure you, madam, I am not mistaken. Despite Cousin Mary’s infinite charm, I am set on Elizabeth as my future wife.”
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she had stayed in bed.
“But, my dear Mr Collins, I regret to inform you, Lizzy is very likely to be engaged soon,” Mrs Bennet said in a serious tone.
Elizabeth cringed at her mother’s announcement. May the earth split open and swallow me whole. If this ever came to Darcy’s ears, she would die of embarrassment.
Mr Collins’s lips curled into a scowl. “But I only settled on her by your insistence that Jane was to be engaged. Are you now suggesting that I transfer my affections yet again? This is beyond all bearing,” he said, his voice rising in annoyance.
Mr Bennet cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “Mr Collins, you would do better if you were to look elsewhere for your future wife. My daughters are unequal to the honour.” Unlike his usual sarcastic countenance, his eyes held no trace of humour.
“I know not why you should suggest so, Cousin, when they are all extremely amiable; but I must say, I fear I have been deceived,” he said in a peevish tone.
“I offer my most sincere apologies, sir,” Mr Bennet said with a deep bow. “It appears that the breach that once divided your father and I has now been irreparably severed. I shall not insult you by insisting that you remain in a house that has betrayed your trust.” Although his voice remained calm, his eyes burned with fury. He then called for a servant to prepare Mr Collins’s equipage for immediate departure and to assist him with his luggage.
Mrs Bennet gasped and Mr Collins blinked in confusion, his shoulders slumping at this turn of events. When Mr Bennet turned to leave the room, Mr Collins moderated his tone. “You mistake me, Cousin. I am not due to leave until Saturday.”
Mr Bennet paused, then walked to the door. “I assure you, Cousin, I shall take no
offence at your earliest withdrawal,” he said in a grave voice, then left the parlour, while Mrs Bennet made use of her vinaigrette.
Elizabeth clung to Jane, marvelling at her father’s gallantry. She had never seen him behave with such decisive action, especially for his daughters’ benefit. Surely, none of them was suited to Mr Collins. Even Mary, who would do well as a parson’s wife, deserved better than this toadying, self-absorbed half-wit.
Now pale and forlorn, Mr Collins stared at the floor. “It seems I am to leave Longbourn,” he said, shuffling his feet.
Mrs Bennet released a heavy sigh and employed her fan. “Oh, Mr Collins, I do apologise. If only you had not objected to Mary.”
“Indeed, I meant no disrespect to Cousin Mary, but I had already established my preference…elsewhere.”
Although Elizabeth knew he referred to her, mortification prevented her from meeting his eyes. She reached out to take Mary’s hand and pulled her closer.
“I must take my leave of you now, Mrs Bennet, and thank you for your kind hospitality. To my fair cousins, I wish each of you the best health and happiness. May you all find husbands worthy of you.”
Elizabeth watched him leave the room, enshrouded in a grey cloud. Once he had gone, she inhaled deeply, finally able to breathe again.
Mrs Bennet clucked her tongue. “My dear Mary, I wish your father had not been so disobliging as to send Mr Collins away, but you must see that he did so in your defence. He could not allow his own heir to abuse his daughter,” she said, vigorously fanning her rosy face. “Such an excellent father, I must say; although who is to marry you now, I am sure I know not.”
Mary’s chin quivered. “He never meant to offer for me, Mama,” she said with a tremulous voice.
“Oh, Mary, how could you even consider him?” Lydia said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You would be forced to listen to him prattling on about nothing whatsoever, and forever grovelling to Lady Catherine, who must be the most horrid woman in the world.”
For once, Elizabeth agreed with her silliest sister; marriage to William Collins would be a sad trial for any woman of sense. She thanked the heavens she had been spared from receiving his proposal.
***
Darcy slept until noon on Wednesday, then ventured downstairs to the breakfast parlour hoping to have a quiet meal. He assumed that, after retiring in the small hours of the morning, Caroline would sleep late that day. His assumptions were proven wrong when he found her and Louisa already seated. The two ladies greeted him in subdued spirits. “Will Hurst be joining us?” he said as he selected his breakfast from the sideboard.
Louisa sipped her tea. “I daresay, my poor Henry is exhausted, as are we all. He will call for a tray when he awakens.”
Darcy could not like this arrangement. Since Bingley had already left for London, neither he nor Henry Hurst was here to keep Caroline in check. While Hurst had never deigned to correct Caroline’s forward behaviour, at least his presence served as a deterrent.
As usual, Caroline could not allow Darcy to eat his meal in peace. “Mr Darcy, surely, you must have had your fill of Hertfordshire by now. The society here is so confined. Louisa and I wish to return to town as soon as may be.”
Darcy hesitated, certain that Bingley had no part in this plan. “Will you not wait for your brother to return?”
Caroline assumed her usual practised smile. “Charles’s business affairs always take longer than he supposes, and he will be so much more comfortable at Grosvenor Street. Do you not agree?” she said in earnest.
“He will only be gone a few days.”
“Yes, but the holidays are nearly upon us, and most of our friends are already in town,” she said with a hopeful air. He knew she abhorred the country and most likely missed the livelier pace of London. “And you must long to see Miss Darcy,” she added.
Of course, she would have to mention his sister as a method of persuading him into doing her bidding. Unfortunately, her statement had a ring of truth; he did miss Georgiana. He had been separated from her far too long, and he wanted to determine for himself how she fared. He had every intention of spending the holidays with her, and his own business affairs would be handled much better from home. And, if he was being honest, the time had come to put an end to his infatuation with Elizabeth. “If you wish to return, I will not oppose you,” he said.
The sisters, who had both appeared tired and forlorn, brightened and held up their heads as though they had breathed in new life. “Then it is all settled. We shall pack up the house and leave first thing in the morning,” Caroline said in lively tones.
Finding their sudden enthusiasm disconcerting, Darcy called for his horse, determined to clear his head with a ride around the grounds. Although this county did not compare to his beloved Derbyshire, there was still much to admire. Recalling his conversation with Elizabeth last night, he asked a groom for directions to a local landmark and set off to view it for himself. Today would be his last day in Hertfordshire; perhaps he ought to make the best of it.
Due to his fatigue, he maintained a slow pace and allowed his mind to wander. Although he had not expected to enjoy his stay at Netherfield, he had to admit that it had not been entirely without pleasure. While he had not quite acquired Bingley’s fervour for the visit, he had forged a new friendship that he would recall fondly for many years to come. Now thinking more clearly, there was not the least need to forget Elizabeth Bennet. Although she would not be his future wife, she would always be a valued friend. Perhaps, if time and circumstances permitted, he might return to Netherfield with Bingley and be graced with her company once again. While he could not deny his admiration, he convinced himself that it would diminish with time and distance.
At the edge of the property, he jumped over the wall and cantered through Meryton, tipping his hat to passers-by on the street. Shopkeepers waved to him as he rode by, and he observed that this community was similar to Lambton, a small town near Pemberley, where he enjoyed a friendly comradery with the townspeople. Once out of town, he urged his horse into a run until he reached the lane the groom had mentioned. There was no sign to mark Oakham Mount, but he found the trail and walked onwards until he spied a lady dressed in a brown coat and matching bonnet. Although he had not expected to meet Elizabeth here, he was glad for the opportunity to see her one last time.
She stopped when she heard him approach, offering her usual welcoming smile. “I came to see how your mountain compares to the peaks of Derbyshire,” he said once he had reached her.
“I am on my way there now,” she said.
“Shall we view it together?” She agreed and he dismounted, leading his horse up the trail. “Somehow, I am not surprised to see you out and about after a late night.”
She laughed merrily. “It’s true that I am an early riser, but the hour is approaching three o’clock, sir, and I am just now taking my morning walk.”
Ascending the trail beside her, he realised how much he loved hearing the sound of her voice. “Did you enjoy the evening?” he inquired, recalling their cordial parting after the ball.
“Oh yes, Miss Bingley surpassed my expectations,” she said with an appreciative smile.
He marvelled at her generosity. While Caroline barely disguised her contempt for Elizabeth and would never even consider praising her, Elizabeth’s compliment sounded genuine, and with good reason; Caroline’s ball had been splendid. As they walked on, he noticed how far away they were from Longbourn. “Do you often walk alone?”
She glanced up at him. “You refer, of course, to the day I walked to Netherfield.” He nodded. “I am aware that a young lady should not walk without a companion, but on that day, my sisters accompanied me to Meryton and I only walked alone in Netherfield Park. Today I am a short distance away from my friends at Lucas Lodge.”
Although he could not approve of her walking unaccompanied, he did not wish to appear as though he was reprimanding her; he let the matter drop. “Have you seen Wickham again?”
/> Her cheerful demeanour vanished at the mention of the scoundrel’s name. “No, and I hope I never shall. I have little tolerance for a man who would accuse another of cheating when he is a cheater himself.”
“You are correct to question his integrity, Miss Elizabeth. I may not disclose the particulars, but he attempted to elope with a young heiress in Derbyshire to gain control of her fortune,” he said, being careful to mention no names. “Believe me, you must never be alone with him—you or your sisters.”
She thanked him. “I have warned my sisters about him.”
“Many young ladies have come to regret placing their trust in him,” he said, hoping he had convinced her of the danger Wickham posed to the community. They reached the top of the mountain and faced each other.
“What is to be done about him? He has no right to besmirch your good name.”
Once again, her concern for his welfare impressed him. “You need not worry on my account; his claims can all be disproved. However, I spoke to Colonel Forster about his new officer, and Wickham will not be permitted to run wild like he did in Derbyshire.” He hoped he had done enough to protect the people of the community.
“Thank you, Mr Darcy.” The warmth in her eyes reflected her true sincerity, so unlike the other women of his acquaintance. He had thought her lovely last night in her best finery, but standing in the sun, covered head to toe in brown, she appeared lovelier than ever. Knowing he ought not stare, he forced himself to look away.
Finally observing the view, Darcy admired the rolling hills in the distance. Although the autumn colours had faded to brown, the valley below still offered views of neat fields, grazing livestock, sturdy houses, and vibrant evergreens decorating the horizon as far as the eye could see. Songbirds called out to each other, and geese flew towards the river. He had always loved the peaks of Derbyshire but acknowledged that Hertfordshire abounded with life in every direction. “I must admit, your vista has much to recommend it, Miss Elizabeth.”
“We always love the place we come from, Mr Darcy. I can imagine you love Derbyshire as much as I love Hertfordshire.”
A Certain Something Page 9