Mr Bennet Takes Charge

by Jann Rowland

  Bennet was startled. “Already?”

  “We spoke just before we departed,” said Elizabeth. Her quick words suggested she was eager to leave this conversation in the past.

  “Well, I must commend you,” said Mr. Bennet after thinking on the matter for a moment. “It seems you do not wait when you see something you want, Mr. Darcy. Such decisive behavior can only benefit you should you succeed with my Lizzy.”

  “Again, I am aware of this.”

  A great desire to laugh came over Bennet, and he gave free rein to his instinct, followed by both of his companions. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy did not seem to enjoy the joke as much as Bennet did, but he did not concern himself over such things.

  “It seems,” said Bennet after his mirth ran its course, “we shall see a lot more of each other in the future, Mr. Darcy. If you will, I should be happy if you would call me Bennet.”

  “My friends call me Darcy,” replied Mr. Darcy. “There is no need to stand on ceremony.”

  “No, indeed,” replied Bennet. “This was a most illuminating and amusing conversation. I thank you for informing me of these matters.”

  “Thank goodness it is over,” muttered Elizabeth.

  Though she could not see, Bennet smirked at his daughter. There was enough material to keep him amused for many years to come. And Bennet would take care to remind Elizabeth of that fact as often as he could.

  Chapter IV

  After the mortifying conversation with her father, the carriage ride became monotonous. There was little to see out the window due to the lateness of the hour, and reading was impossible, given the same problem. Though there was conversation among the three travelers, it was sparse, as there was not much of which to speak.

  Conversely, however, sleep did not seem to be an option, though it might have been expected, again, due to the late hour of their departure. But for whatever reason, whether it was because of thoughts of Lydia and what the thoughtless girl might do to her reputation, concern for their travel at night, or just the excitement of being on the road again, Elizabeth could not say. Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind, and her companions seemed to be in similar straits.

  At length, just when Elizabeth was becoming mesmerized by the passing blur of darkness, she saw a large concentration of lights in the distance as they approached a bend in the road. Mr. Bennet appeared to see the same thing, for he peered at them and then turned to Mr. Darcy.

  “I believe we are approaching our first stop.”

  Mr. Darcy nodded, only just visible in the dim light inside the coach. “I shall ask the driver for his opinion of the horses. It has only been about three hours, but they are unaccustomed to running so late at night.”

  Soon the lights grew larger and Elizabeth had the impression of passing between buildings which blotted out the meager glow of the moon. It was impossible to see anything more than that they were there, though the lack of lights in any of the windows spoke to the lateness of the hour.

  “I have never used the inn up ahead,” said Mr. Darcy conversationally. “But it is known to cater to a certain affluence of traveler. We shall soon pass through London proper, as we are on the outskirts now.”

  “Perhaps it would be better to press on?” asked Mr. Bennet.

  “When I wrote to my cousin, I informed him we would wait here for a quarter of an hour for his arrival.” Mr. Darcy paused and shrugged. “I am uncertain of my cousin’s whereabouts at present, nor do I know if he is at liberty to accompany us. But if he is, I would prefer to have him in our company. There is no better man, and he is well acquainted with Wickham.”

  “Yes, I believe you mentioned him to us before. You have met him, have you not, Lizzy?”

  “I have,” replied Elizabeth. “Colonel Fitzwilliam struck me as a pleasant man.”

  “He is that,” replied Mr. Darcy. “But do not let his genial exterior deceive you. Fitzwilliam has been in the army for some time, and he has worked his way up from a lieutenancy to his current rank. Though he is friendly and kind to all, a more implacable enemy you could not make.”

  “Sounds like the kind of man of whom we may have need,” commented Mr. Bennet. “As it is, I have no objection to stopping, for it will be welcome to stretch my legs. A quarter of an hour will be of no consequence, I am sure.”

  A moment later the carriage came to a rest before a large building, the courtyard appearing neat in the light of the moon. It appeared they were well accustomed to travelers appearing at all times of the day and night, for there was a man on duty at the door who approached with a lantern, asking if they required the innkeeper’s assistance for rooms or other services.

  “We have only stopped to rest for a few moments,” replied Mr. Darcy. “Can you provide water for the horses?”

  “Of course, sir,” said the man. “I will see to it.”

  “In a moment.” Mr. Darcy motioned for him to step closer. “Is there a man of the scarlet waiting here?”

  “No, sir—no one like that has come here this evening.”

  “Then speak to my driver and see to the horses, please.”

  The man knuckled his forehead and turned to carry out Darcy’s instructions. Upon seeing Elizabeth’s curious look, he smiled. “Given the speed at which we traveled, I was not certain if Fitzwilliam would meet us here. If he cannot join us in time, we might find him in Epsom, or if he comes after us, he will probably catch us on the road thither.”

  “An eminently sensible plan, sir,” said Mr. Bennet. “Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I should like to stretch my legs.” He turned to his daughter. “Lizzy, if you mean to do likewise, you may come with me. If not, please ask one of Mr. Darcy’s footmen to accompany you, or ask Mr. Darcy himself.”

  “I shall, Papa.”

  Taking that as her answer, Mr. Bennet walked away, leaving Elizabeth with Mr. Darcy.

  “Your father is a singular gentleman, Miss Elizabeth,” murmured he. “Had I not already determined him above such stratagems, I might almost have thought he was leaving you here with me to engineer a compromise.”

  “In such circumstances as these?” asked Elizabeth, hearing the incredulous tone in her own voice. “Surely not, sir. You could hardly compromise me in the middle of a large courtyard.”

  “Perhaps not. But I could certainly make a go of it.”

  Elizabeth felt her cheeks burning in embarrassment, but she was not about to allow the gentleman to know how he had discomfited her. “I had always taken you for a proper gentleman, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Even in the first days of our acquaintance, when you thought me the proudest man you had ever met?”

  “Even then,” replied Elizabeth. “Your adherence to propriety was never in question, sir. It was your manners I questioned.”

  “And now?”

  “I should have thought it obvious.”

  “Have I not misjudged you in the past? In the future—or at least until I have grown more adept at interpreting your feelings—I should like you to inform me of your opinion, whether favorable or not.”

  “At present, I have little of which to complain. You have behaved in a perfectly gentlemanly manner.”

  The way Mr. Darcy regarded her, Elizabeth almost wondered if she had said something to distress him. Soon he turned to look away, though he still did not speak. A glance about informed Elizabeth there was no one nearby—of her father there was no sign, and the driver and footmen were clustered around the carriage, speaking in soft tones amongst themselves.

  “Have I said something wrong, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Indeed, no,” replied he. “It is merely . . .” The gentleman sighed. “While I know it is nonsensical, I wish for more of your praise than a simple acknowledgement of my status as a gentleman.”

  “Do you wish to rush me, sir?” asked Elizabeth playfully, sensing he required a lightening of his spirits. “We have only tonight agreed to explore our relationship further. Are you so impatient?”

  “If you had harbored my feel
ings for as long as I, you would be impatient too.”

  This conversation was now fraught with feelings for which Elizabeth had no reference, and her attempt at levity had been a resounding failure. But the man had spoken words which roused her curiosity, and while she was uncertain it would help his peace of mind, she found her wish to know could not be denied.

  “How long have you had feelings for me, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Long enough I can no longer remember what it was like to be without them.”

  Astonished at his words, Elizabeth could not speak for a moment. Mr. Darcy moved quickly to fill the void. “Almost since our first meeting.”

  “Surely not!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “After all, I was not handsome enough to tempt you.”

  “So, you did hear me.” Mr. Darcy sighed. “I offer you my apology, Miss Elizabeth, and do not excuse my behavior. The truth was I did not truly look at you that evening. But by the time we were both invited to Lucas Lodge, I could hardly keep my eyes from you.”

  A pause ensued after which Mr. Darcy chuckled. “In fact, it was an unthinking remark on my part which likely provoked the worst of Miss Bingley’s dislike and disdain for you.”

  “Oh?” asked Elizabeth. “And what might that have been?”

  The flickering of several nearby torches illuminated Mr. Darcy’s countenance, the paucity of light at the same time rendering his eyes dark pools, unreadable to Elizabeth. But on his countenance existed the tender smile of memory.

  “It was just after I asked you to dance.”

  “But you only asked me to dance because Sir William offered me as a partner!”

  “I assure you, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Mr. Darcy, “I was happy to do it.

  “Regardless, Miss Bingley approached me soon after with some acerbic comment, trying to provoke me to wax poetic in my distaste for the company. In all honesty, I do not even remember what she said. But she received more than she bargained for as my response was to the effect that my thoughts were more agreeably engaged than to be pondering any distaste for the company.”

  “And that is when you mentioned me?”

  “I informed her I was admiring your fine eyes and pretty face.” Mr. Darcy paused and chuckled. “For the rest of our stay at Netherfield, Miss Bingley continued to comment about fine eyes. It was quite diverting, I assure you.”

  Elizabeth could not suppress the laugh which escaped from her lips. “Miss Bingley’s ambitions being what they are, I suspect she hoped to remind you of my unsuitability.”

  “Or to provoke me to confess that I had been mistaken,” replied Mr. Darcy. “But though she was all displeasure, I found great enjoyment in continuing to assert my original opinion. In fact, I remember the day you came to Netherfield to see your sister. When you appeared, Miss Bingley and her sister, after abusing your appearance, manners, and intelligence, made a comment to the effect that your display must have reduced my admiration for your eyes. I responded that my feelings were quite in opposition to her statement, for I found them brightened by the exercise.”

  The gentleman’s account prompted her to laugh along with him. But inside Elizabeth was shocked that he had admired her even as far back as that. During and after his proposal to her at Hunsford, Elizabeth had always maintained that his admiration must have been the work of the moment, though she had never determined quite what had brought it about. It was clear, however, that it had been much longer of duration, one which had grown and strengthened over time. She had misjudged him more than she had thought.

  “Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, pulling his eyes to her, “I must ask you for patience. As I have promised, I shall give you every opportunity to prove yourself. But it is still new. I must ask for your understanding.”

  “And you have it,” replied Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth was certain his eyes were caressing her where he stood, and it caused her to shiver a little from anticipation, though anticipation of she knew not what. “You shall have anything you need from me and as much time as you require.”

  At that moment their tête-à-tête was interrupted, for a lone horseman galloped into the yard and vaulted from his horse. He joined them directly, beaming as he clasped Mr. Darcy in a brotherly embrace, exclaiming: “Darcy! It is good to see you!”

  Then Colonel Fitzwilliam—for he it was—bowed low over Elizabeth’s hand. “Miss Bennet, I am enchanted to once again make your acquaintance, though I must wonder at the wisdom of traveling with my cousin at this late hour.”

  Elizabeth knew the man was teasing her, and she laughed and wagged a finger at him. “Do you worry for your cousin’s virtue with one such as I?”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam let out a great guffaw and shook his head. “You are as charming as I remember, Miss Bennet. Are you certain you do not have a fortune hidden under a rock somewhere? I should very much like to become better acquainted if you did.”

  “That is enough, Fitzwilliam,” said Mr. Darcy. Though he smiled at his cousin, it was tinged with more than a hint of exasperation.

  Seeming unperturbed, Colonel Fitzwilliam winked. Then his countenance underwent a metamorphosis as he sobered and looked at Elizabeth. “It appears I also owe you an apology, Miss Bennet. My words to you during our walk at Rosings were unconscionable. It would have been best had I kept my own counsel.”

  “Oh?” asked a new voice, as Mr. Bennet strode up. “Have you been importuned by yet another gentleman, Lizzy?”

  “It was nothing, Papa,” said Elizabeth. One of the few pieces of information Mr. Darcy had maaged to keep from her father was the extent of his interference with respect to Mr. Bingley and Jane, and she saw no reason to divulge the information.

  “Indeed,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I made a rather poor jest at an inopportune time. Although Miss Bennet did not take offense, I learned later my words were without merit, and so thought to apologize.”

  To Elizabeth’s eyes it was uncertain what Mr. Bennet thought of the colonel’s explanation. That he did not pursue the matter was fortunate, in Elizabeth’s opinion.

  The two gentlemen were introduced, though there was no time for pleasantries due to the need for an immediate departure. Mr. Darcy saw to the man at the inn who had greeted them, and Elizabeth saw a few coins exchange hands. It appeared her father saw it too, for his lips pursed a little, though he said nothing. Soon the four were aboard the carriage, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s horse tied behind, and they rolled out of the courtyard and onto the road yet again.

  With his cousin’s presence, Darcy felt much more secure. Though the driver and footmen were present and would be of assistance should they meet trouble, Fitzwilliam was a man he trusted implicitly, one who knew him and his ways. And Fitzwilliam had never been misled by Wickham, who had encouraged Darcy to take action against him in the past. Fitzwilliam’s first words upon the carriage setting off confirmed his eagerness to exact retribution on Wickham’s hide.

  “Now, I am interested to know what our dearest George has done to provoke such action. I hope he has not offended you, Miss Bennet.”

  “Thank you, Colonel,” said Miss Bennet. “I am unharmed by Mr. Wickham.”

  “Aye, he would find you difficult to persuade,” said Fitzwilliam. “It is his practice to prey on those who are much less likely to question his actions. You are far too sagacious for him to maintain his charade for long.”

  The silence from Miss Bennet was such that Darcy thought his cousin’s words had provoked her embarrassment for believing Wickham’s poison. “The list of those Wickham has hoodwinked is long and distinguished. Regardless, it is not Miss Bennet, but her younger sister who is in danger.”

  Darcy thought Miss Bennet was grateful for his intervention, which made him feel warm all over. But the other member of their foursome seemed amused by Fitzwilliam’s words, if his chuckles were any indication.

  “To those who are silly and vain and care nothing but for a man’s handsome countenance, this Wickham must be an irresistible temptation.”

  “I apologize, si
r,” replied Fitzwilliam. “It seems my glib tongue has landed me in hot water yet again.”

  “On the contrary, sir,” replied Mr. Bennet, “I took no offense, for my youngest is exactly that. I seems must take thought for her education, for I have allowed her to continue in ignorance and folly.”

  “Be that as it may, we are not certain what we shall find, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy, eager to return the conversation to material matters. “But we do know that at the very least, Mr. Bennet’s daughter appears to be enamored with our scandalous old friend.”

  In as brief a manner as possible, Darcy attempted to explain what they knew, from the letter Miss Kitty had received to their conjectures concerning what it meant. He informed his cousin that he suspected Wickham would be forced to flee Brighton before long, but he need not have bothered, for Fitzwilliam saw that possibility at once. Finally, Darcy’s recitation ended with the account of what they had done, the express sent to Colonel Forster to prevent whatever Wickham had planned, and their intention to escort Miss Lydia back to her family home in Hertfordshire.

  “This should not have been left so long,” growled Fitzwilliam. “You should have done something about darling Georgie a long time ago—certainly before he was in a position to attempt an elopement with another young lady.”

  “We have already had this conversation, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” said Mr. Bennet. “It would be best if we focused on the matter at hand, rather than rehash what should have been done.”

  “Understood,” said Fitzwilliam with a tight nod. “My apologies, Mr. Bennet. It is an old argument, and one which, it appears, has little meaning now.”

  Mr. Bennet replied with a tight nod.

  “Then what, may I ask, is your plan?”

  “It depends on what we find,” said Darcy. “Miss Lydia’s letter was not explicit regarding the timing of Wickham’s flight.”

  “I suspect she did not know herself,” said Miss Bennet.

  “That is possible, Miss Bennet,” said Fitzwilliam. “Wickham would have wished to keep her in suspense and in his thrall.”