Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) (7 page)

BOOK: Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo)
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“Greetings, Caroline.” He inclined
his head. “I thought you were in London.”

“Indeed not! How could I remain
there when desperately needed here? I raced to Netherfield as soon as my
brother’s letter arrived at our townhouse. I presumed you were with him and
have been increasingly dismayed at your absence. I can only deduce you either returned
to Town before his horrid blunder or have been devising a plan, but whatever
the case, my relief at the news of your presence is immense. What
are
we
to
do
, Mr. Darcy?”

“Forgive me, Caroline. Clearly you
are distraught; however, I am ignorant as to what ‘horrid blunder’ you are
referring to.”

“Why, surely you know of his
betrothal to Jane Bennet! Is that not why you are here?”

“Not primarily, no.”

Darcy stepped past Caroline Bingley
and continued down the corridor. After a stunned pause, she hastened to catch
up to his long-legged gait. He was unsure whether to laugh or grimace at the
dramatics that would ensue when she discovered Bingley was not the only
gentleman at Netherfield betrothed to a Bennet.

“Mr. Darcy, I do not understand!
You said you know he asked Miss Bennet to marry him—”

“I do.”

“Well, how is this not the purpose
of your visit? Are you not here to talk sense into him once again?”

“No, I am not. Bingley is a grown
man, capable of making his own decisions.”

“That was certainly not your
opinion last year!”

“No, to my great shame, it was not.
Now I am regretful of that judgment call.”

“Surely you do not mean that!”

Her frantic clutch on Darcy’s arm
halted him, and with a sigh, he turned. Her face was creased with concern, and
for a second, he experienced a stab of pity. With her next sentences, however,
the pity was replaced by irritation and then downright indignant anger.

“By all that is sacred, we must not
sit by and allow my daft brother to align himself with that family! What could
he be thinking? You have tremendous influence over Charles, Mr. Darcy, a fact I
am thankful for, so he will listen to reason from you more so than me. I have
tried to point out the severe deficiencies in Miss Bennet, to outline the
consequences to his social standing if he marries her, yet he stubbornly
refuses to listen. He walks around in a cloud of ridiculous emotion that I am
sure will annoy and disgust you as much as it does me.”

“Somehow I doubt I will be as
annoyed or disgusted as you imagine.”

Darcy managed to speak calmly and
keep his facial expressions bland. Caroline stared at his impassive face in
amazement, stumbling over her words as she continued, “Well…I applaud your
forbearance, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps you are correct not to approach with a strong
attack. We cannot waste time indiscriminately, or the news will spread, making
his breaking the engagement a scandal in itself. However, you are correct that
subtlety may be the best tactic in dealing with Charles in this matter.”

“You misunderstand me, Miss
Bingley,” he countered, reverting to formality. “I am not suggesting any kind
of attack in regards to Bingley’s betrothal to Miss Bennet, subtle or strong.
It is, to be frank, none of my business. Even if it were, I would not
interfere. As it happens, I am happy for him. You should be as well.
Furthermore, if you recall, I did say that was not my primary reason for
returning to Netherfield.”

And before he erupted in laughter
at Caroline’s bulging eyes and gaping mouth, Darcy pivoted and rapidly completed
his jaunt to the parlor. Bingley was already there, sipping a glass of wine and
staring bemusedly out at the front drive. His expression
was
rather
ridiculous, Darcy had to admit, and if not for viewing a startlingly similar
look upon his own visage the entire time Samuel was shaving him and trimming
his hair, he probably would have felt as Caroline presumed.

Instead, he steeled his muscles and
clamped down on any telltale signs of his joy. Prior to encountering Caroline
unexpectedly, Darcy had intended to announce his betrothal to his friend.
Dealing with Charles’s delighted surprise was no longer desirable, however,
since it would be accompanied by goodness only knows what kind of reaction from
Caroline Bingley.

“Bingley, is there more of that
wine handy?”

“Darcy! There you are! I was
beginning to worry that you were ill or on the run from the law, arriving late
at night, so I was informed this morning, and then hiding in your room all day.
Quite out of your normal routine, my friend, and that always worries me.”

Darcy laughed along with Bingley.
He took the glass of wine from the younger man’s hand and lifted it in a toast.
“I doubt I shall ever be as unpredictable as some, but here’s too causing the
occasional ripple of surprise.”

Bingley clinked the edge of Darcy’s
glass with his, brows rising and eyes asking a question. After a large swallow,
Darcy answered partially.

“I received news prompting my
return, and I was not hiding in my room all day. I actually left early this
morning to attend to some unfinished business. The weather was especially fine
for a long walk.”

“Walk? Since when do you prefer
walking over riding your horse?”

“I cannot honestly say I
prefer
walking over riding my horse. Today it simple felt like the right choice, that’s
all.”

“You are being irritatingly
cryptic, Darcy. Not that you often aren’t, of course, so I shall let it go.
Whatever mysteries you have rattling around in that complicated head of yours,
I am pleased to have you here. For many reasons, naturally, but especially
since it means you can keep Caroline company for dinner.”

He nodded toward his sister,
Caroline having just then entered the parlor. She had taken time to collect
herself, that much was obvious to Darcy. The cool, aloof gaze cast his
direction was no different that it always was. At least for the moment, since
she would again be spun in confusion by Darcy’s odd shift in attitude.

“Alas,” he began, eyes on Bingley
and not Caroline, “I regret that I must disappoint. I intend to accompany you
to Longbourn for dinner.”

“Longbourn?” The amazed echo came
from both Bingleys, Caroline a tad shriller than Charles. Darcy said nothing.

“Are you sure, Darcy? That is, the
Bennets will welcome your unexpected addition with polite indulgence, of
course.” Darcy lifted one brow at
that
but continued to silently sip his
wine while Bingley stuttered on. “It is just that…Well…I know the Bennets are
not necessarily your favorite people in the world or…exactly the society you
usually interact with…and the food, while excellent in its own way, is not on
par with what Mrs. Langton serves at Pemberley.”

“The Bennets are uncouth and
lacking in the slightest hint of social graces, and Longbourn is barely a step
above a hovel. Is that not what you mean, Charles?”

“Not precisely, Caroline,” he
countered testily. “Personally, I take no issue with the Bennets or Longbourn—”

“Only because you are blindly
besotted by a pretty face! Otherwise, you would see the truth of it. Why warn
Mr. Darcy if the Bennets are not an embarrassment to be avoided at all costs?”

“Why indeed?” Darcy’s even tone cut
through. Neither Bingley blurted the sharp words tickling their lips and
instead turned their eyes toward Darcy, who had not paused. “No need to warn me
of anything. I am well aware of what awaits me at Longbourn, and can assure you
both that I am eager,
most
eager to visit, even if plain fare and humble
surroundings are less than what I am used to. In fact, I have decided it is
high time I cease looking at the world from the lofty heights that have thus
far only served to stifle me and enforce an unhealthy sense of superiority.”

He was staring straight at Caroline
as he said the latter, and the thrill of perverse satisfaction at her astoundment
was immense. Moments later, the crunch of wheels and horses’ hooves on gravel
drove all thoughts of Caroline’s reactions from his mind.

Heart pounding at the sudden vision
of Elizabeth that crystallized in his mind, he briskly set the wineglass onto
the table and walked toward the door without another word.

 

 

Chapter Three
Starlit Evening

 

The long afternoon spent with Jane
in candid conversation did wonders for calming Lizzy’s overwrought emotions.
Recounting her convoluted relationship with Mr. Darcy chronologically, in
forthright language, and with Jane’s insightful queries helped her understand
the evolution of her feelings. At least to some degree. In truth, Lizzy did not
care to analyze the hows or whens of her love for Mr. Darcy. That she
had
fallen in love with him, and that he still loved her, was all that
mattered. 

Leaving the sanctuary of their
bedchamber was easier after hours laughing over romantic follies and dreaming
of their futures. Lizzy discovered just how beneficial when she entered the
drawing room.

“Lizzy! What an ungrateful child
you are! Languishing in your room with no thought to my poor nerves! I have so
many questions, and now there is scant time with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy sure
to arrive any moment! Mr. Bennet insisted I leave you be, and as difficult as
it was, I did not defy his orders, a small bit of advice for a proper marriage
I pass on to you two, for whatever good it will do when you especially, Lizzy,
take pleasure in vexing me at every turn. I never thought I would say this, Mr.
Darcy being a man I confess has not ranked high in my esteem, but I do pity him
in dealing with your—”

Smiling all through her mother’s
reproach, Lizzy crossed the room and engulfed her in a firm embrace. That,
along with a tight squeeze, a murmured “I love you, Mama,” and kiss to her
cheek, doused the flames of irritation. Mrs. Bennet relaxed instantly, and her
tone shifted to one of teary concern.

“Oh! My dear girl! Are you sure you
have chosen wisely?”

“Indeed, I am absolutely sure, Mama.”
Lizzy gave another squeeze, then laughed as she pulled away. “And here I
thought you would be singing raptures that I have finally accepted a marriage
proposal rather than rejecting them willy-nilly! No longer will you despair of
me becoming an old maid with nothing left to claim as my own but a sharp
tongue.”

“Now, Lizzy, you know I have only
wanted for your happiness and security. I daresay Mr. Darcy can provide the
latter, but what of the first? Mr. Darcy is, well, somewhat pompous and
disagreeable. If asked even this morning, I would have asserted you disliked
him!”

“I know. Your confusion is
justified. I have not meant to be secretive. It simply took me time to
understand my feelings for Mr. Darcy.”

“Do you care for him?”

“I love him. And he loves me.”

“Well! That does change things! How
that
came to be is more than I can take account of at the present, but
he is quite rich, as well as handsome, educated, and well-spoken when he does
speak, and not a bad dancer at all, so even with his flaws, he has much to
recommend as a husband. In time, I suppose I shall solve the mystery of it and
be appeased that your personalities will balance and find their way to coexist.
I am not, I admit, adept at understanding people, nor do I invest the time to
do so in all cases, so I am glad of the weeks ahead to grow familiar with the
man—”

“As am I.”

All eyes turned to Mr. Bennet,
where he stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the jamb. His
expression was uncharacteristically somber, and his tone grim.

“Papa?”

“I have given my permission, Lizzy,
but with reservations. In this area I am, surprising as it may be, in agreement
with your mother. Mr. Darcy does indeed have much to recommend, and I am
inclined to trust your assertions in regards to the other matters we discussed.
Nevertheless, you are young, and while not remotely as puerile as Lydia,
emotions can cloud one’s judgment.” He held up his hand when Lizzy opened her
mouth to rebut. “I am not rescinding my permission, Lizzy, nor shall I say a
word to Mr. Darcy. I am merely expressing a father’s concerns. Pray, indulge my
hesitation and wish to grow better acquainted with Mr. Darcy before I begin to
sing any raptures.”

Lizzy nodded. Truthfully, she could
not fault her father’s reservations despite her instinct to argue the point.
Even Jane, who possessed the maddening habit of seeing only the good in
everyone, and who on numerous occasions had defended Mr. Darcy when Lizzy
ranted against him, was shocked and perplexed by the match. Frank conversation
had gone a long way toward convincing Jane that Lizzy loved Mr. Darcy based on
sound principles, as well as emotions. Yet she also knew that Jane would feel
better as time passed and she witnessed their interactions.

Deciding that the whole situation
was, in a strange way, rather humorous and a challenge, Lizzy laughed gaily. “As
you wish, Papa. But when you are ready to sing your raptures, I get to pick the
song.”

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