“She heard?” Horror at his rudeness shook him to his toes.
“She did.” Mr. Bennet smirked. “In addition, while she stayed at Netherfield to care for Jane, Elizabeth reported that she was often verbally attacked by Miss Bingley in an effort to elevate said lady while denigrating my family. According to Lizzy, not once did anyone rise to her defense except Mr. Bingley. Not once, Mr. Darcy. Since you were often in the room, your silence implies your own guilt at believing these attacks to be accurate.”
He gulped as the truth of Mr. Bennet’s words flooded him with feelings unknown to him. To be grouped with Bingley’s pernicious sisters was terrible. He personally disdained them both. Mr. Bennet was correct. His silence gave tacit support to their propensity to make themselves look better by insulting those they felt were not of their social sphere.
“In addition, ...”
Lord, was he not done yet?
“In addition,” Mr. Bennet’s words were clipped, as if each syllable was weighty in itself, “my own observation of your dance with my daughter at the ball proved she holds you in derision. Tell me, sir, as the words flew back and forth between you two, did you at any time think you held the upper hand? I cannot imagine so as you stomped away, leaving her standing in the middle of the floor without escort until my cousin, the man you treated with disapprobation and have spoken of with disdain this morning, helped her to her mother.”
“I... I,” Darcy rubbed his hands over his face. Was this another nightmare? Was he, somehow, reliving the past six weeks while gazing at his own actions and attitudes in a mirror? Impossible! He was a Darcy. His position was in the first circles. He was welcomed by the finest hostesses in town. The ton was his playground should he want it, which he did not.
This man! This man, who presumed to castigate him for...
Darcy’s outrage was gone in an instant. What of anything Mr. Bennet had said was not true?
Swallowing again, he endeavored to explain.
“I cannot...I...” He tried again. “I perfectly comprehend your feelings.” Darcy wanted to vomit. “As the guardian of my young sister, had any man come to me with an interest in her who had acted in the manner you perceive me to have done, I would have cut him directly, ending any hopes he had of attaching himself to my family.”
“Do you believe I should do less with mine?” Mr. Bennet asked, his jaw as stiff as his shoulders. The man was livid. “I know who you are, Mr. Darcy. I know your uncle is an earl. My wife informed me of your income the night of your first public appearance. I also know who I am. More importantly, I know my daughter.” He thrust his index finger at Darcy. “I know without a doubt that she has no tender feelings for you at all. Neither does she for Collins. Both Lizzy and Jane will marry only when they can hold their potential mate in respect and affection. I care not if they are a prince or a pauper, sir. The happiness of my children, especially my eldest two, is paramount to me.”
Mr. Bennet stood and returned to his seat. “You have misjudged both my daughter and me, Mr. Darcy, in fundamentals a fool would find obvious. I cannot imagine you consider yourself as a lesser man to a fool?”
“I do not!” Darcy stood. Anger at the truth of Mr. Bennet’s words warred with his ire against the gentleman. How dare Mr. Bennet address him in this manner? Never had he been treated with this level of disrespect. Not since Wickham... Blast!
George Wickham had once been his closest friend. During their university years, Wickham took on the personality and vices of those miscreants he selected as his companions. By the time Darcy inherited at his good father’s death, there was no healing the former friendship of the two men.
In the years since, Wickham had pressed and coerced Darcy using threats of rumors and harm to gain his way. Because of this, Wickham no longer feared the master of Pemberley, going as far as to attempt eloping with fifteen-year-old Georgiana Darcy in an effort to gain her large dowry and revenge himself on Darcy.
Despite the passing of four months since the attempted elopement was discovered, Wickham flagrantly spoke against Darcy, telling one lie after another to gain sympathy with the hearer and cause animosity against either Darcy.
Obviously, Wickham’s presence in the neighborhood for the past two weeks had not been idle. He had used his time to his personal advantage.
“Mr. Bennet, last night during the time I danced with Miss Elizabeth, she mentioned the suffering I caused Mr. George Wickham. Are you aware of his accounts against me?”
“I believe he has told his tale to anyone who would listen.” Mr. Bennet lifted a brow.
Darcy understood his curiosity. Wickham appeared a distant transition from his own seeming insulting behavior.
“Perhaps I should start at the beginning, Mr. Bennet, so there is no longer any confusion to complicate matters.” He asked for the conversation to be kept between the two of them.
Upon the older man’s agreement, in as few words as possible, Darcy outlined his history with George Wickham, including the attempted elopement.
“My sister has yet to recover her spirits, Mr. Bennet. The day of the Meryton Assembly, which I had not desired to attend, I had received a heartbreaking letter from Georgiana whereupon she clearly expressed her failures. However, the failure was solely mine. I, who knew the sort of man Wickham was, kept her in ignorance due to her tender years. Never had I imagined the level of deceit he was capable of promulgating against someone he at one time treated as a little sister.”
“In addition, Miss Caroline Bingley, who desires to become the next Mistress of Pemberley, had attempted to arrange matters that same day to promote a match—with me. She knows how much I despise being the center of attention, how much I loathe having my worth equated solely with my income, so offered to remain behind at Netherfield with me while the others went to the assembly. This I found unacceptable. During each turn of the wheel from the time we left Bingley’s estate until our arrival in Meryton, we were subject to her opinions of what a degradation it would be to enjoy country company. Thus, I was tired, irritated, frustrated, and heartsick, Mr. Bennet. I had no desire to dance with someone whose mother screeched mine and Bingley’s income every few minutes. I have no doubt Mrs. Bennet would have paired me with Miss Elizabeth should I have offered to stand up with her for the set. I have no doubt any mother of an unattached daughter would have done the same, so please do not take insult with my comment about your wife. She is, as is every mother in the ton, concerned with attaching their offspring to the most eligible gentlemen possible. I hold no grudge against her or any of them.”
“Mr. Darcy!” A familiar twinkle lit Mr. Bennet’s eye, similar to the one he had seen each time Miss Elizabeth attempted to give him a set-down. “Can you speak even a few sentences without insult? I cannot believe an educated man of the world with as much to offer as you believe you have does not know how to temper his comments with tact. Or, is the quality completely foreign to you?”
“I apologize, sir,” Darcy offered in an attempt to sue for peace. “I would like to continue if you would bear with me.”
“Pray, just tell me your purpose. That is all I ask.”
“I want to marry Miss Elizabeth.”
“You do?”
It was then Darcy saw a hint of a smile.
“Do you believe she would be agreeable?” Mr. Bennet’s smile grew.
“As you have reviewed her version of our exchanges, I do not,” Darcy admitted. “Nevertheless, you should know that I have fought a personal battle against my expectations, my family’s, and society over the past few weeks. Miss Elizabeth first intrigued me, then impressed me as I witnessed her loyal care of her sister plus her kindness to those beneath her as she asked for assistance during that care. Her intelligence as we engaged in debates, and her beauty have since set her apart as being the only woman of my acquaintance I could see spending a lifetime with.”
Darcy continued, “I have much ground I need to cover to gain her good opinion, Mr. Bennet. I am willing to do whatev
er it takes to help her, and you, see that I am a man of honor and duty worthy of respect and admiration. I will humble myself, if need be. I will do anything within my power to have her want to be my bride.”
At Mr. Bennet’s nod, Darcy continued, “When Mr. Collins told me last night that he was already betrothed to Miss Elizabeth, I determined first that the man was presumptuous in his claims, and second, I would use every asset I have available to see she would not have a lifetime of unhappiness because of an unequal marriage to him.”
“I am happy my cousin was of service,” snorted Mr. Bennet.
“Sir, I cannot accept you would be pleased with a match between your daughter and your cousin. Although I do discern the value of him as your heir, I need to remind you of the opportunities I could provide your family in excess of Mr. Collin’s ability.”
As Mr. Bennet opened his mouth to respond, the door to his study flew open. Elizabeth burst in, closely followed by Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Collins. All three were speaking at once.
“I will not marry him. Papa, do not make me accept him, I pray you.”
“Mr. Bennet, you must make our silly daughter marry Mr. Collins.”
“Sir, you must talk some sense into Miss Elizabeth. She is acting the demur debutante. I will not have it. Lady Catherine will not have it. Mine will likely be the only offer she will ever receive. She must marry me.”
Mr. Bennet yelled, “Silence!”
Into the quiet he spoke. “We have a guest.”
Chapter 3
“Mr. Darcy!” all three interlopers observed at the same time.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy has arrived this morning on a mission of some interest to our family,” Mr. Bennet responded.
“Ten thousand a year,” Mrs. Bennet said, barely under her breath.
“Lizzy, Mr. Collins, you may remain. Mrs. Bennet, I ask that you rouse the rest of our daughters to break their fast before evening falls. I will discuss the outcome of the coming discussion with you later today.”
Obediently, Mrs. Bennet left the room. To say Darcy was stunned at her doing so would have been a serious understatement. He had thought he understood her character as meddlesome. Then again, he had thought he had a clear comprehension of Miss Elizabeth’s desires. He had been wrong.
Mr. Bennet had Miss Elizabeth sit between the two men as he, again, took his seat. She crossed her arms, then her legs, refusing to look anywhere but at her father.
“Let us begin this discussion with some information.” Turning to his cousin, he asked, “How long were you in the drawing room while you made your offer?”
“But a few moments,” was Mr. Collins’ immediate reply.
“Three quarters of an hour,” from Elizabeth.
If Darcy had thought Mr. Bennet was angry before, the hue of red that covered his face from chin to hairline indicated his ire was far vaster than when the man displayed it against him.
“You were behind closed doors alone with my daughter for that length of time? What do you mean by this?” Mr. Bennet demanded.
“I...” the clergyman stuttered. “I had many reasons for marrying that I needed to discuss with my intended. Lady Catherine said...”
“Enough!” Mr. Bennet’s voice reverberated from the walls. “I care not for Lady Catherine’s opinion. The salient point is that your inept attempt at a marriage proposal put my daughter’s reputation in danger. Shame on you! As a man of the cloth you should know better.”
Mr. Collins responded quickly, “Since, as you have pointed out, I have compromised Miss Elizabeth, I will marry her as soon as the banns can be called.”
“Over my dead body,” Darcy said under his breath.
Apparently, both Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet heard. Her head spun towards him. Mr. Bennet’s brows rose until they almost disappeared.
Miss Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak. Darcy had no doubt her words would be scathing.
“Lizzy, before you say anything, I need to inform you that there has been another offer for your hand in marriage.” Mr. Bennet glared at Mr. Collins. Looking at Mr. Darcy, he asked, “Does the fact that she was alone with Mr. Collins for a considerable length of time dissuade you from your decision?”
“It does not.”
“Then, the fair thing to do is to allow you the same amount of time to state your case.” As Darcy nodded, pleased at the arrangement, Mr. Bennet continued, “I will not subject my daughter to further censure by your secluding yourselves from oversight as Mr. Collins did. Knowing Lizzy’s desire to enjoy nature, you shall walk exactly twenty-two and one-half minutes from Longbourn towards Meryton, at which point you will turn and walk back for the same time period. Have no doubt, Mr. Darcy, and you too, Lizzy, that not only will you be in my purview, I would guarantee my wife will be in the front room window watching as will my remaining daughters from their windows upstairs. There will be no improper conduct. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But, Papa...” Elizabeth made another attempt to gain her father’s attention.
Mr. Bennet stopped her again. Looking at Darcy, he asked, “Have you a time piece?”
“I do.”
“As do I.” Mr. Bennet removed the gold piece from his pocket. “Gather your things, Lizzy. Your time starts as soon as I hear the front door close behind you.”
“But...” Mr. Collins and Miss Elizabeth said in unison.
“Mr. Collins, for justice to be served, for the remaining se’nnight of your stay at Longbourn, you shall have thirty well-chaperoned minutes a day to convince my daughter of your intentions. Mr. Darcy will have the same.” Mr. Bennet pushed himself back from his desk to stand. “I highly suggest you either write to your Lady Catherine for her suggestions or you spend time alone pondering how you might impress the woman you claim to hold in affection.”
The confidence of Mr. Collins was unbelievable. Darcy wanted to laugh aloud at his next comment.
“I shall spend my time wisely. I shall choose to be unconcerned about Mr. Darcy’s appeal for Miss Elizabeth’s affections. He is betrothed to his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh. Thus, he cannot marry another. As well, taking seven days to court my fair lady, her love will increase by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.” He had winked at Miss Elizabeth when he stated the last.
As in the dream, Darcy wanted to wrap his hands around the man’s throat and squeeze.
Mr. Bennet interrupted Darcy’s joyous imaginations.
“Mr. Collins, you had best get busy. Mr. Darcy and Lizzy shall be walking out. It will be up to Mr. Darcy to explain clearly his relationship with Miss de Bourgh.” To his daughter, “Lizzy, get your bonnet.” To Darcy, he said, “Mr. Darcy, I would advise you to think before you speak.” Again, he stopped his daughter from commenting or, rather, complaining. “Be off with you all.”
Mr. Collins led the procession, abandoning them to gather his thoughts. Darcy waited while Miss Elizabeth donned her pelisse, bonnet, and gloves, grumbling under her breath the whole time. Her attempts to address her father with a refusal for both potential grooms had been in vain. Mr. Bennet lifted his book and pretended to read.
When the front door closed behind them, Darcy checked his time piece, noting the minute, second, and hour. It would not do to be late. He was on his honor.
Within seconds, it did not look well for Darcy. When he offered his arm, Miss Elizabeth looked at him like he was a warty bullfrog. Stepping away from him, she began walking, shoulders back, her arms stiff at her side, with her gaze straight ahead.
He was in deep trouble.
Reminding himself of the nightmare, the ridiculousness of the parson, and the fact that he did, indeed, desire her for his wife, Darcy hurried to catch up.
“Miss Elizabeth, we must have some conversation.”
As soon as the final word left his mouth, he recalled it was exactly the same as her taunt at the ball.
“Must we?”
“Your father’s intents and my purpose demand it to be
so,” he unwisely replied.
“Demand?” She halted and turned on him, her hands now fisted, and her chin thrust forward. However, it was in her eyes where he saw the true danger. They were not limpid pools of loveliness. Instead, they were blazing.
He felt as if his hair might ignite under her gaze.
“By what reason do you feel you can demand anything of me, sir. I cannot imagine you would want anything to do with me at all. Your prior comments, your continuous staring at me to find fault have not endeared you to me in any way. Therefore, these forty-five minutes are a waste of my time.”
How much humiliation could he stand? Competing with an oaf like Mr. Collins for the hand of a lady who disdained him. What was he about?
“I like you.” It was the only thing that, in his confusion, came out of his mouth. “Please believe me, I was not looking at you to find fault at all. In truth, you intrigued me. I am still intrigued.”
She scoffed.
“Miss Elizabeth, pray listen.” He slowed his pace, hoping she would do the same. “If someone gave you a wrapped package the size, shape, and weight of a book, would you assume it was a book inside?”
She looked at him quizzically, slowing her pace until he caught up with her. “I would.”
“What if it was the size and shape, but not the weight? Would you still be confident with what was inside?”
“No, I would not.”
“Neither would I.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “Each of us, both you and I, has taken the measure of each other. With that said, the simple truth is that we have only observed what is on the outside. Yes, we have drawn conclusions, some correct and some not. But until we unwrap the paper, we cannot be for certain what is contained within, correct?”
“Yes, I can see how that would be.” She adorably put one finger to her chin. “Are you implying I do not know the real Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and that you do not know the correct version of me?”
One Bride & Two Grooms Page 2