Darcy & Elizabeth: A Season of Courtship (Darcy Saga Prequel Duo) (9 page)

“Your library is impressive, Mr.
Bennet.” Darcy used the glass of brandy Mr. Bennet handed to him to indicate the
shelves as he spoke. “I see you have all of Mr. Wordsworth’s volumes, including
Laodamia
, which I have yet to acquire, and this collection of
Shakespeare is of a rare binding. I know because I have the same set, and it
was a costly acquisition that took me six months to track down.”

“I am fortunate to have certain
connections at Oxford,” Mr. Bennet said with a soft laugh. “All those hours
passed in the library, when I should have been attending a boring lecture,
proved invaluable in establishing a lifelong friendship with the master
librarian.”

“I attended enough boring lectures
to know the truth in that. Not all professors or subjects taught were useless,
of course. Nevertheless, I can attest to the ofttimes superior education
gleaned from a well-written and researched book.”

“
The reading of all good books
is like conversation with the noblest men of the past centuries
.”

Darcy was not surprised Mr. Bennet
could quote Descartes. The philosopher’s writings were widely distributed and
discussed, if not universally embraced. He did wonder how far-reaching the
older gentleman’s delving into philosophy was—especially in how deeply
Elizabeth may have studied—so he returned the quote with another.

“
Read not to contradict and
confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse;
but to weigh and consider
.”

Mr. Bennet acknowledged his
recognition of Sir Francis Bacon’s words with a commentary. “Bacon’s personal
life was questionable, and I will argue some of his liberal philosophies. Yet one
cannot deny he encouraged inductive reasoning. We are, to this day, seeing his
influence as England enters an age of scientific experimentation.” Mr. Bennet
cocked his head. “Do you embrace progress, Mr. Darcy? Does the possibility of
industrial advancements, with the potential for alterations to our society and
class structures, worry you?”

“It is a double-edged sword to my
way of thinking,” Darcy answered carefully. He was loathe to veer the
conversation away from Elizabeth and the subject of their wedding. Then again,
sharing a discussion on philosophy was enjoyable, and it could lead to better
understanding his future father-in-law, as well as his betrothed.

With that in mind, he explained, “England
has established rules that have served us well for centuries. I trust in our
heritage and, as a landowner, accept my duty seriously. I have also seen the
adverse effects of this so-called progress in places, such as the coal mines and
mismanaged mills. They harm the landscape and, in far too many instances, do
not help the workers to improve their lot in life. Despite these facts, change
is inevitable. Fighting the future revolution is a fruitless endeavor, in my
opinion. It is better to work with the reality, doing what is wise to balance
the old ways with the new waves that will come.”

“I quite agree, Mr. Darcy, although
I cheerfully leave the future to those such as yourself who are young and
energetic. I do not have the stamina, bendable nature, or inclination to
willingly change my ways.” He laughed along with Darcy. “I do welcome your
further thoughts on the topic, but as it is clear Mr. Bingley is not as
fascinated, we can save our discussion for later.”

Bingley flushed. “I do apologize,
Mr. Bennet. Darcy has tried, without success, to ignite my passions for such
matters. Alas, I am a poor student.”

“Mr. Bingley has other passions,”
Darcy interjected, smiling warmly at his friend. “He has been an apt pupil in
matters of farming and estate management. In time, with fortune leading him to
an ideal property, Bingley will prove his capability.”

Bingley’s cheeks flamed redder. His
expression conveyed pride at Darcy’s praise, as well as a hint of anxiety,
especially in the swift flicker of his eyes toward Mr. Bennet, who was frowning
minutely. Instantly it dawned on Darcy that Bingley had not shared with Jane’s
family his plans to purchase an estate of his own.
Surely he has enlightened
Miss Bennet to the fact that she may well end up residing far away from the
Bennets?
Nevertheless, since none of it was technically any business of his—nor
was he desirous to be in the middle of the conversation when it was broached—Darcy
quickly changed the subject.

“Ah! Here is your copy of
Parzival
by Wolfram von Eschenbach.” He drew the slim volume off the shelf, silently
thanking the fates for drawing his eyes in a providential direction. “I named
my stallion after this poem and confess to being quite startled when Miss
Elizabeth instantly recognized where it came from. I greatly appreciate that
your daughter is an extensive reader, Mr. Bennet, and clearly have you to thank
for instilling that passion within her.”

Mr. Bennet turned toward his desk,
circling and relaxing into the chair as he replied. “Lizzy was always precocious
in that way. No offense intended toward my dear Jane, Mr. Bingley, but none of
my daughters have shown the intense interest in reading as Lizzy has.”

“Not to worry, sir,” Bingley
assured, smiling dreamily. “I am not the rabid absorber of literature as Darcy
is, so it matters little to me that Miss Bennet does not read to the extent of
Miss Elizabeth. Darcy, on the other hand, would have a difficult way of it with
a wife who was not the bookworm he is!”

Thanks for feeding into my plan,
Charles.
Darcy smothered his smile and nodded. “Indeed, Bingley is correct.
It might surprise you, Mr. Bennet, but as lovely as Miss Elizabeth is, it
honestly was not physical attraction that first drew me to her.”

“I am not surprised, Mr. Darcy. After
all, the people of Hertfordshire are aware that Lizzy was deemed ‘not handsome
enough’ to tempt you into even a simple dance. I can only imagine the amazed
speculation that will flitter throughout the countryside when your betrothal is
announced.”

Darcy stiffened and almost dropped
the book from suddenly nerveless fingers. The citizens of Meryton thinking
negatively about him was not a mystery, but he had no idea his rude dismissal
of Elizabeth during that first Assembly over a year ago was common knowledge.
Before the full impact of just how steep the hill he had to climb in order to
improve popular opinion toward him—and clearly that of his future
father-in-law as well—Bingley jumped in.

“Please do not judge Darcy harshly,
Mr. Bennet! He is renowned for his gentlemanly behavior, most especially to the
ladies of Society!” Darcy winced, not sure how
that
statement would be
interpreted by Elizabeth’s father. Bingley was not done, unfortunately. “His
manners are normally of the highest caliber, I promise you that. So much so
that he is sought by all as the perfect companion for dancing and the like.”

Darcy fervently prayed the ground
would open and swallow him.

“It is entirely my fault,” Bingley
rushed on. “I bullied him into coming to Hertfordshire last autumn. His heart’s
desire was to return to Pemberley and Miss Darcy. Then, I compounded the matter
by insisting he attend the Assembly. His foul mood on that occasion was an
anomaly, and his words were directed at me, not meant as a personal insult to
Miss Elizabeth.”

“Charles.” Darcy halted his friend
with a raised hand. “Your gracious rise to my defense is appreciated but
unnecessary.” He turned to Mr. Bennet, whose expression was unreadable. “There
is some truth to Bingley’s claims, insofar as my desire to be at Pemberley
rather than here. Nevertheless, only I am responsible for my actions and words.”

He paused to inhale, keeping his
gaze level with Mr. Bennet’s. “I am the master of my choices and my moods.
Indeed, I was in a temper that night and confess with shame that I did scant to
hide it. I also confess that my former prejudices blinded me—in many
ways. I hope I can prove to you, sir, that my attitudes have severely changed
since then, in large part due to your fine daughter. Yet, at that time and on that
night, foul mood or not, when I said that I did not warrant Miss Elizabeth as a
temptation to me, or as particularly handsome, I meant it.”

“I see.” Mr. Bennet nodded once.
Then his serious expression faltered, a small smile playing about his lips. “Your
honesty is refreshing, Mr. Darcy. And you need not worry at my displeasure in
your confession. As I said, we already know the truth of your initial thoughts
toward Lizzy. Others were appalled, such as Mrs. Bennet. Mothers tend to
consider physical appearance and the ability to flirt with skill as the two
most important attributes to ensnare a husband. Many fathers do as well, I
suppose, so if one of those abilities fail it is a devastating blow!”

Darcy remained standing with
Parzival
and the glass of brandy clutched forgotten in his hands. Unsure whether he had
salvaged matters or muddled them worse, he kept silent.

“In the case of Jane,” Mr. Bennet
resumed with a smile toward Bingley, “she was blessed with beauty outwardly and
of the soul. Her fault, as seen from the standpoint of attracting a suitor
easily, is her reserve.”

Bingley diverted his eyes from Mr.
Bennet. How true those words were! As admirable as Bingley considered Jane’s
modesty and gentleness, and as fully as he blamed himself for allowing others
to persuade him rather than following his heart, if Jane
had
shown her
favor toward him from the beginning, they might well be married long since.

“Lizzy is quite another matter.”
Mr. Bennet went on, studying Darcy’s face as he talked, “She is clever, witty,
and intelligent. She is also well aware of this. Some would and have argued
that she is
too
aware and prideful of her cleverness.” He shrugged, the
gesture apparent to Darcy as a disagreement with this assessment of his favored
daughter. “Her gaiety, humor, and frequent laughter is genuine, yet not as a
means to entice or mask a dull mind.” He chuckled. “You are not the first man,
Mr. Darcy, to be mistaken about and surprised by Lizzy.”

Abrupt, blinding jealousy surged
through Darcy’s body.
Not the first man? What in blazes did that mean?
Luckily, Mr. Bennet answered the questions Darcy was in no condition to voice
without growling.

“Lizzy’s handsomeness is often
overlooked when compared to Jane, and because she rarely primps to feed her
vanity, as most girls do. I have no problem with this, so long as my daughter’s
numerous internal attributes are recognized and appreciated. This appears to be
the case with you, Mr. Darcy, as it certainly was not with Collins, thus I am
pleased—”

“Collins?” Darcy blurted. “My aunt’s
rector, Mr. Collins?”

Mr. Bennet’s brows lifted as he
nodded. “The same, yes.” Then he laughed. “I see Lizzy has not shared that
information with you. Interesting. I suspect you may discover
that
rejected proposal rivals yours.”

A multitude of emotions swirled
through Darcy’s head. Collins? Elizabeth married to that imbecile was a vision
he could not begin to fathom. Of course, a woman as confident and wise as
Elizabeth Bennet would never agree to marry a man like that! Still, the fact
was Collins had asked, and she could have said yes.

Darcy shuddered.
How many other
proposals has she received? What a fool to presume I am the first to be
bewitched by her myriad charms!

Assaulted by waves of relief, a
fresh rush of consuming love, and a frantic urge to finalize their union so she
would be his irrevocably, Darcy fell weakly into the nearby chair. Sifting
rapidly through all that had been said since entering Mr. Bennet’s study, Darcy
latched on to the one point most pertinent.

Raising his head, he held Mr.
Bennet’s eyes and spoke in a voice remarkably steady considering the roiling
emotions within. “I was, most assuredly and to my shame, monumentally mistaken
in my initial assessment and dismissal of Miss Elizabeth. However, I promise
you, Mr. Bennet, that learning of my error, identifying, as you stated it, the
numerous internal attributes Miss Elizabeth possesses, has been nothing short
of a miraculous development welcomed with all my being.”

He paused to inhale, calming the
residual turmoil before plunging ahead. “Of the assorted joys in being her
husband, few, I venture, shall rival the joys of provoking debate, discussing
literature”—he waved toward the stacks of books surrounding—“and
witnessing her superb intellect in motion as Mistress of Pemberley.”

“A fine speech. Words of truth, I
can tell. Of course, if the library at Pemberley is as vast as Lizzy has told
me, you may find it a challenge to pull her away for household duties.”

Darcy relaxed at Mr. Bennet’s
lighthearted tone. “Fortunately, the harsh winter of Derbyshire translates to
little happening with the estate and infrequent visitors, so our first months
will allot hours for lounging in the library.”

“Or, more likely now that it is
apparent that you are, indeed, tempted by Lizzy’s handsomeness, another chamber
may hold a higher allure.”

Darcy’s jaw dropped and he felt
heat flooding his cheeks. Whether this was primarily due to extreme
embarrassment at such a subject even hinted at by Elizabeth’s father—and
with Bingley present no less—or due to the vivid visual of a semiclothed
Elizabeth spread across his bed, Darcy could not honestly say.

Thankfully, Mr. Bennet made no
additional references to marital relations, instead turning to the map of
England pinned to the wall behind his desk. “Winter in Derbyshire,” he
murmured. “I forgot that fact. Roads are unsafe for travel, and foul weather is
the norm. Too much time isolated alone, so far from family, may not be a wise
choice for one as social as Lizzy. I think a spring wedding would therefore be
best.”

“Sir! You cannot be serious! That
is five or more months from now!”