During the time they were gone, the letter from Georgiana was not far from his mind. He spent the afternoon with Bingley and the estate books, then retired to his chambers to see what his sister had sent.
Holding the opened parchment on his lap, he opened the gilded box. Ah, perfection! He could not wait until the morrow.
“There is a spy in my house, Mr. Darcy, and I am uncertain which culprit bears guilt.” Elizabeth was in no better mood to start their walk than she had been the prior three days. “Somehow, Mr. Collins found out about the poetry. Deciding he could improve on Shakespeare’s sonnet 116, he read to me from Fordyce’s Sermons for the complete thirty minutes.” She huffed. “In an attempt to gain favor, he offered to read an extra half of an hour so I would not need to ‘tolerate your presence’—and I quote.”
Darcy wanted to chuckle and probably would have had it not been slightly unmanly.
“I am pleased to see you convinced Mr. Collins of the unfairness of his offer.” He bowed, checked his time piece, and offered his arm. This time, she accepted. Darcy felt like the victor already. Yet, he knew he risked being knocked off his high horse, a medieval term used when only the wealthy could afford a tall animal. He had plenty of tall stallions and geldings in his stables. What he did not have was the confidence that he was finally winning Elizabeth’s approbation.
“Have you heard from Miss Darcy since yesterday? I cannot believe she would eavesdrop and gossip like my sisters must. I can only imagine it was either Kitty or Lydia.”
“I did receive a letter and package from her yesterday afternoon. They were both intended for you. However, you did tell me not to bring any more gifts, and I would hate to be accused of being unfair despite Mr. Collins’ attempts to cut me out of my well-deserved time.”
“What? You left my gift from Miss Darcy at Netherfield Park?”
He wanted to laugh. She looked seconds away from plunging her hands into his great coat pockets to see what he had brought. He loved her curiosity. And her joy.
“Very well, I shall let you see her note.”
Taking the folded parchment from his pocket, he opened it and handed it to her so she would not need to remove her gloved fingers from his arm.
“What is this?” Pointing to Georgiana’s brief letter, she demanded in no uncertain terms. “Where is it?”
“Hah! Now it is you who does not play fair, Miss Elizabeth.” Stopping, he dug into his outer pocket for the gilded box. Georgiana’s brief one-sentence message had read, “Sweets for your sweet.”
Elizabeth held the small container in both of her hands. Removing her gloves, giving them to him to hold, she opened the lid to find two elegantly decorated pieces of chocolate-covered marzipan.
They took her breath away. Her hand flew to her chest and she stopped breathing. He was so pleased he decided then and there to give the whole of his fortune to Georgiana. Deservedly so. Well, not the whole bulk of his wealth. He would owe her for the rest of his life for this one perfect moment in time.
Carefully, Elizabeth lifted one of the candies. Turning it this way and that, she surveyed every bit of sweetness before sniffing the rich chocolate coating. Delicately, she bit off one end.
Gulping, he imagined his face turned beet red and then as pale as the Dover cliffs. He watched her lips surround the treat. Oh, Lord! Was he going to survive this intense jolt through his body at her actions?
“Mmm!” Her eyes closed as she savored the taste. “This is the best thing I have ever tasted.”
He gulped again, repeatedly. Barely able to breathe, he accepted the box with the remaining piece as she wrapped her fingers tightly around his elbow and started down the lane.
“Yummmm...!” she moaned.
He about fainted—not that men fainted, of course.
“I have never...oh, please give my sincerest appreciation to Miss Darcy. She is a queen, is she not?” When she finished the first piece and licked her fingers...beads of sweat broke out on every surface of his body.
“And, if I eat them both before we return to Longbourn then it is not as if I was bringing a gift inside for Mr. Collins to see, is it?”
He found his voice.
“We are of like mind, my lady. Enjoy your ‘sweets for my sweet’ and I will tell you more about Georgiana, if it pleases you.”
She reached for the second piece to savor exactly as she had done the first candy. Before she took the first taste, she replied, “I would be very pleased.”
Their thirty minutes flew by as quickly as a lightning bolt travels across the sky. He spoke not only about his sister, he also told Elizabeth about growing up at Pemberley, the close relationship between his father and mother, and how lonely he had been when away at school.
“I hope to one day show you Pemberley. There is no doubt in my mind that the abundance of books in the library along with the many lovely walking paths will delight you.”
She smiled up at him without answering. Before he knew it, they were back at the door. As he was searching for the words to say a proper goodbye, Mr. Bennet popped his head out the door.
“Mr. Darcy, I see your courting is going as to plan.” His bushy eyebrows wriggled mischievously. “Mrs. Bennet requests the honor of your company as well as that of your hosts at Netherfield Park for a meal tomorrow after church. Whether or not you have thirty minutes to walk out remains to be seen. It looks like rain. Shall I tell her you accept her invitation for yourself and your party?”
Darcy finally looked away from Elizabeth to see heavy clouds gathering. Yes, they would be in for a good soaking. Accepting the invitation, Darcy could not resist asking, “Sir, when you refer to my courtship going as planned, are you considering your plans or mine?”
His only response was a hearty laugh as Mr. Bennet opened the door further to allow his daughter entrance. Before he closed it shut, Mr. Bennet said, “We shall see, shall we not? Mr. Collins returns to Kent early Wednesday morning. My Lizzy has three choices I have placed in front of her. Mr. Collins. You. Or, no one. Her decision shall be made by then. Goodbye.”
At that, Darcy was left standing alone on the front steps.
Three days. He only had ninety minutes total to make a favorable impression with the lady. A momentary panic rose inside him which he tamped down. He needed a clear head to plan his next move. And, he needed Georgiana.
The next morning, the only one in the breakfast room early was Bingley. Giving attention to his host was a pleasure for Darcy. There were few men of his acquaintance with such purity of heart.
“Darcy, I have hardly seen you a minute since the ball. My sisters have commented that they, too, are disappointed at not having your company. Thus, it is a pleasure we shall spend the morning in worship, the afternoon meal with the Bennet family, and this evening here at Netherfield.”
“I apologize, Bingley, for my inattention.” He seated himself across from his friend. “I am courting Miss Elizabeth.”
“What is this you say? Courting Miss Elizabeth? How is this possible?” Bingley choked on his coffee. “Mr. Collins told me he was courting her.”
“He is.” Darcy grinned at the confused look on Bingley’s face. The whole situation really was odd. “You should know, my friend, that if you choose to pursue Miss Jane Bennet, you will be dealing with a very crafty father who not only wants the best for his daughters, he is not above provoking sport for his own entertainment.”
At Bingley’s blush, Darcy knew his friend’s affections for the eldest Bennet were sincere. What Darcy was not prepared for was Bingley’s response.
“How well I know, Darcy,” Bingley placed his utensils on his plate. “While you and Mr. Collins have been spending time in competition, I have been meeting Jane in the garden in full view of Mrs. Bennet and Miss Mary. Where you only get thirty minutes to achieve your goals, I am allowed the full hour. So, I thank you, my friend, for distracting said father. I am considering requesting a courtship by the time Mr. Collins leaves for Kent. I am already thinking of
our engagement and marriage as well, though I am in no hurry to rush into matrimony. Miss Bennet, my Jane, is an angel. I believe I could search the world and fine no one else who matches me in temperament. She is the one for me.”
“Bingley!” Darcy was stunned. “You sly fox.”
Inside Longbourn, Mrs. Bennet loudly proclaimed her pleasure at having the Netherfield party as guests. Mr. Collins stood alongside her with his hands on his lapels as if he was solely responsible for the Mistress of Longbourn’s happiness.
Elizabeth started to walk by Darcy as if she was not going to acknowledge him only to have her grab his arm and pull him from the drawing room. One glance at her face was enough to know she had reached her limit. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips were pressed together until they were white, and her eyes shot fire.
Gathering their outer clothes, they stepped outside.
“Pardon me, Mr. Darcy. I need a moment.”
Standing on the steps, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply three times. Letting out the last breath slowly, she held her hands out, palms facing down, lowering them until they were relaxed at her side.
Figuring the wisest course was silence, he offered his arm and they began to walk.
The rain had come the day before. The air was damp, and puddles littered the lane. Within minutes, it became a challenge to find a path where they would not be soaked from head to feet.
“This is not my best idea,” she mentioned as they were caught walking single-file between two water-filled ruts the carriages returning from worship had made deeper. “Perhaps we should, instead, spend a quiet half hour in my father’s study.”
What? Court in front of her father? Pray, not!
“Certainly, if that is what you prefer,” he said instead. His internal sigh was heartfelt. “However, I have another suggestion, if you please?”
Gazing up at him, she lifted her brows, an expression that always made him smile.
“Mightn’t we walk the garden paths instead? I have it from my friend that there we will be under your mother’s supervision rather than your father’s. In fact, since Mr. Bennet was in the drawing room and not his private refuge, we would be properly chaperoned by them both.”
“A brilliant idea, sir.” Leading him around the side of the house, they strolled towards the rose garden where wisteria trellises remained covered with some greenery.
“I do have a question for you, Miss Elizabeth,” he paused until she nodded. “Why is it your mother appears to approve of Mr. Collins’ pursuit over mine? As a mother of five living in an entailed estate, I had assumed her preference would be for the man who was in a better position to aid your family financially. Yet, she has yet to extend assistance to me, unlike what she has done for both Mr. Collins and Bingley. Have I done something to anger her?”
“Mr. Darcy, that you care for the opinion of my mother is quite the surprise, you who have only held her previously in disdain.” Elizabeth halted and looked back at her house. Sure enough, Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Collins stood at the window and watched them. “Is it that you care more for why she is not giving you aid to help your own cause, or do you truly want to know the workings of her mind?”
“While I freely admit that I do not understand this situation, I genuinely want to know.”
“As a matter of interest, sir, I too wondered at Mama pushing me towards Mr. Collins since it was she who informed our whole family and many of the neighbors about your estimated income. Other than being the heir to Longbourn, Mr. Collins has little of monetary value, as I understand.”
“Ten thousand a year is, in truth, lower than my yearly average.”
She nodded but gave no clue that she was impressed by his annual revenue. “My mother wants the best for each one of her daughters, of this I have no doubt. Therefore, I am perplexed at her favorable opinion of our father’s cousin. He is a silly man with little intelligence. I wonder if it was merely because his offer came first.”
“I cannot know,” he said. “I can assume then that her motives are not mercenary. That her attachment to Longbourn is the reason? Would I be correct?”
“This, I can answer.” With her hand around his elbow, she turned him to face the building. “I will agree that some of my mother’s concerns are about the security of herself and her children. Nonetheless, when you look at Longbourn, you likely see a smallish stone building filled with females sitting on well-farmed acreage. My mother sees a home she created over the years, since the days she arrived as a new bride. Proudly displayed in each room are artwork and artifacts from each of her children. She gave birth to all five of us here. Two years after Lydia was born, she was delivered of my brother, James. He did not survive the week. My mother almost did not as well. Little James is buried in the cemetery next to Longbourn chapel. Therefore, Longbourn represents much more to her than a place to live out the rest of her years. It is memories created and cherished. Love gained and lost. It is a foundation laid for her life together with my father. To leave here would be to leave that life and those memories behind. Do you understand?”
“I do.” Easily envisioned were his many memories at Pemberley, all of them more precious than his wealth. Having his parents entombed in the chapel grounds would forever tie his heart to the property. The loss of these memories would be devastating. “Are you as tied to Longbourn?”
“No, as it is different for a female child.” They resumed walking. “My girlhood memories are of the people, more than the building. This is important because part of growing up is knowing how small a percentage of our lifetime will be spent here. Once we are established elsewhere, then our personal moments with the family a new wife helps develop becomes the focal point of her existence. Then, she will store away and cherish treasured remembrances to take out later when her own children are gone.”
He felt her explanation in the depths of his heart. “I comprehend your meaning, and I thank you sincerely for your having shared this with me. Now that her two eldest daughters are being courted with the intentions of marriage; your mother is pondering having each of her children leave her nest until only your father remains. Should he not survive her, to lose him and her home at the same time would be truly devastating.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy, this very much is my mother’s reality. As each day passes, she becomes more frantic at suffering each of those losses. Because of this, her attitude is skewed until her only desire is to grab ahold of the only thing that would keep matters as they are.”
“I would offer Mr. Collins a small fortune, enough to purchase another estate should he desire, to deed Longbourn to her.” And, he would, if necessary.
Elizabeth squeezed his arm. “I am beginning to believe you might be a good man, Mr. Darcy.”
Chapter 8
The next morning, he woke to pouring rain. There would be no walking out with Elizabeth on that day. The time remaining before her decision would be made was speeding by, and Darcy felt he had little progress to show for the passing minutes. Yet, in reality, that was not exactly the case. Elizabeth had smiled at him, three times—genuine expressions of appreciation and joy. And, her final comment he would take as a compliment to him. That she considered he might be a good man was tremendous progress from the start when she loathed him.
Used to being greeted by a frustrated Elizabeth, he was surprised when she met him at the door with a slight grin that looked ninety-nine parts mischief and one small part sweet. He had no clue what was on her mind. She seemed particularly reluctant to share.
They were seated in Mr. Bennet’s study, a chessboard between them. Mr. Bennet was reading, or at least he was giving the appearance of doing so. The quiet was broken by the snap and crackle of the logs in the fireplace. The setting was cozy. The air was warm as calmness added to Darcy’s contentment. He could easily picture days spent in the same activity at Pemberley once she agreed to wed him. Well, without Mr. Bennet’s presence, of course.
Within minutes of starting the game, Darcy comprehended her pleasure
. Elizabeth had been taught well. Her skill at chess was equal or perhaps superior to his. What a delight!
But that was not the only reason she was in a happy mood.
“Sir, do you recall that I mentioned we had a spy at Longbourn?”
Darcy saw Mr. Bennet’s head snap to attention at her comment. However, the man said nothing, merely rested his book on his lap before giving his total focus to Elizabeth.
“I do. Did someone somehow discover the chocolates Georgiana had delivered to you?”
“They did,” she could no longer contain her mirth. “Unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, Mr. Collins immediately took his pony cart to Meryton to discover if any treats were being offered at the haberdashery. He must have found a treasure trove of them.”
“Were they as tasty as the ones from London?” He wanted them not to be.
“I would not know.” At the quizzical expression that must have appeared on his face, she continued, “The weather, as my father and you predicted, turned poorly before he arrived back at Longbourn. Rather than have the rain damage the package with the sweets, Mr. Collins stuffed them all in his mouth as the storm reached its peak. By the time he arrived at the front door, his face was pale, his cheeks were still bulging, he was soaked from head to toe, and he was unable to swallow the mass in his mouth.”
“Oh, no,” he readily joined Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth’s laughter. What a picture her description made.
She added, “I will not share the mess our housekeeper was confronted with. However, I will confess that Mr. Collins made a pretty little apology some hours later.”
Time passed as mutual hilarity relaxed the three in the study. All Darcy could think of was, “poor Mr. Collins.” He had no idea he had said it aloud until Mr. Bennet spoke.
One Bride & Two Grooms Page 5