Mr. Darcy Came to Dinner (28 page)

Mr. Bennet continued in a more serious manner. “I trust your cousin is an honorable man.”

Darcy did not take offense. “Viscount Fitzwilliam is . . . eccentric, that is true, but I have known him all my life, and I tell you that he will not mistreat Sally or her family. The viscountess can be demanding, but not out of the common way. If Sally and her family work hard, they will be treated well and their future will be secure. I would not have suggested this if I thought otherwise.”

“I am sure you would have not. But to report to London the day after tomorrow? That is abrupt.”

Darcy had to agree that it was. “Horace can be impulsive. He thinks about things for a long while to the point of indecisiveness, but once he makes up his mind, he wants everything done yesterday. He and Lady Eugenie leave for Argyle Manor in Derbyshire in a few days, and Horace wishes his new servants to accompany them.”

“It was very generous of you to offer your people to help the family pack their belongings.”

Darcy did not respond, embarrassed at the praise. Instead, he said, “That reminds me. I must send an express to Darcy House in London to have them brought here by tomorrow, as well as a nurse to replace Sally. May I use your desk?”

“Certainly.” Mr. Bennet wheeled Darcy into position and provided a sheet of paper. “While you are writing, I shall have Hill send for a rider.”

Darcy bent to his writing. “I shall reimburse you, of course.”

“No, you shall not!” Darcy looked up at the now-determined Bennet. “You have done everything to help one of
my
servants, a woman who means nothing to you. I am ashamed to think how much you have done and will do. I have not treated you well, and yet you have been kind and generous to all my family. You are even going to replace one my servants with one of yours at your own expense.”

“Mr. Bennet, it is perfectly reasonable that I have a nurse brought here to help me while you look for a replacement for Sally.”

“Reasonable for you, perhaps, but how many others would do the same? You teach me my duty.” Bennet glanced at the two bank notes lying on the desk. “I know now who the true gentleman is in this room. Give me leave to pay for an express, for God’s sake. It is the least I can do.”

“As you wish.” Darcy returned to his note.

“Why do you do it?”

Darcy glanced up. “I beg your pardon?”

Mr. Bennet’s voice was not challenging, but wistful. “Why are you helping Sally? Why have you provided diversions for my daughters? I have a right to know.”

Darcy could hardly admit his true motivation. He struggled. “Because I can.”

“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honor of expecting? Come, come, sir. There is more to this than your financial circumstances!”

“Mr. Bennet, I assure you — ”

“Are you attempting to earn the admiration of my daughters? If so, I must tell you that you have succeeded marvelously. Even Elizabeth, who so hated you before, has fallen under your charms. It then falls to
me
to inquire about your intentions.”

“Mr. Bennet, I — ” Darcy bit off his next words, returned the pen to the inkwell, and stared out of the window. How to answer? Darcy started carefully. “My intentions in matters to which you allude have always been honorable. Or, I should say, will always be honorable, as I have never . . . sought an alliance before.”

“But you are considering one.”

Darcy frowned. “I cannot speak to that as — Forgive me, sir, but this is new to me. I cannot speak as I have not acquired the affections of any young lady.”

There was a pause. “It is Elizabeth, is it not?” Bennet’s voice was uneven. At Darcy’s transparent look, the older man chuckled. “Do not be so shocked that I have discovered your little secret, young man. Even without all you did for her in the matter with Mr. Collins, there is the fact that she is the gem of this house, and you, as a man of discriminating taste, must know her worth. You speak with her as I do, with respect for her wit and intelligence, and not as a besotted youth interested only in her physical charms. You are a man used to the best in everything I daresay, and Elizabeth is the best Hertfordshire can offer. It is logical.”

A red-faced Darcy, knowing he had been found out, could only admit, “I consider your daughter as one of the handsomest and most remarkable women of my acquaintance. I suppose I am overdue in requesting permission for a courtship, but I cannot while I am restricted to this wheel-chair. It is just as well; it is only of late that I suspect Miss Elizabeth’s opinion of me might be . . . positive.”

“Might be?” laughed Mr. Bennet. “Well, you will certainly win her gratitude with gestures like helping Sally.”

“No!” cried Darcy. “You must not tell her!”

“What? Why on earth not?”

“You must understand. I would not have your daughter accept me out of gratitude.”

“What is wrong with gratitude?”

Darcy looked out the window again. “My own excellent parents enjoyed a remarkable marriage. There was totality and equality in esteem, admiration, and affection, each for the other. They were always of one mind. I long for that in my own marriage — one built on the foundation of mutual affection and respect, not on something as transitory as gratitude.”

“Good Lord,” Bennet breathed. “I always desired that Lizzy marry a gentleman worthy of her, and I am coming to the opinion that you are that man.” He bit his lip. “I shall do as you wish, though let me advise you to think better of it. Lizzy is not one to like secrets.”

How could Darcy admit to him that he must have her love first? “I will tell her when I deem the time right.”

Bennet chuckled. “Oh, my, there will be some pretty scenes in your Pemberley in the future, I can tell! Well, my boy, good luck. If Lizzy accepts a courtship, you have my permission. And I will keep quiet about this little matter.”

“Thank you, sir. Your daughter is a very special lady. I would consider it a great honor if she would even consider my suit.”

Bennet choked a little. “Yes . . . well, you have an express to write, and I must acquire a rider if that letter is to get to Town tonight.” He opened the door. “Hill! Oh, Hill! A moment, please!”

The housekeeper soon received her orders, and the gentlemen, tasks completed, were enjoying a brandy when the book room door opened. But it was not to announce the arrival of the express rider.

“Mr. Bennet, may I have a word with you, sir?” cried a beaming Charles Bingley. “Oh, my apologies, Darcy, but I must speak to Mr. Bennet instantly on a subject of great importance! One that will forever affect the happiness of me and Miss Bennet!”

Mr. Bennet and Darcy shared a look.

“About time!” they said in unison.

Chapter 16

E
ARLIER THAT DAY, THE
Bennet ladies descended upon Netherfield
en mass
for the first time since Jane’s illness, this time accompanied by Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley. The Bingley siblings, the Hursts, and Colonel Fitzwilliam received them inside the door, for it was too cold to do so on the porch. While all the visitors were greeted properly, Mr. Bingley’s attentions were fixed upon Jane, while Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst attempted to monopolize Miss Darcy. Mrs. Bennet, her remaining daughters, and Mrs. Annesley had to make do with Colonel Fitzwilliam’s amusing banter.

After a few minutes, Miss Bingley seemed to recall her duties as hostess, and Elizabeth wondered whether it was the result of a pointed remark by the colonel about his mother, the countess. Elizabeth had to restrain her laughter watching Miss Bingley endeavor to keep her composure as Mrs. Bennet droned on about how lovely a house Netherfield was and how all that was required for perfection was the touch of a proper mistress. Her deliberate look at her distracted eldest daughter, deep in conversation with Mr. Bingley, left no doubt as to her meaning. Miss Bingley gritted her teeth and rose, offering the assembled a tour of the house.

Thus was spent the next hour: Caroline expounded upon the beauties and deficiencies of Netherfield with Mrs. Hurst offering her pointed commentary. Strangely, Elizabeth began to have a grudging admiration for the unmarried member of the Superior Sisters. The condescending woman clearly thought herself above her company — except for Georgiana, whom she treated as an equal.

Nevertheless, Elizabeth had to admit that Caroline had elegance; she carried herself well, and her dress was immaculate. The lady knew the history of the house and was honest about its shortcomings. What particularly caught Elizabeth’s attention was that Caroline was more erudite than Mrs. Hurst, whose ignorant simpering made even her sister wince. Lastly, Caroline withstood the inane suggestions of Mrs. Bennet to an extraordinary degree. More than once, Elizabeth thought of clasping a hand over her mother’s mouth before yet another mortifying statement could be uttered.

Elizabeth was thankful for the surprising participation of Colonel Fitzwilliam, for the gentleman volunteered to accompany the tour rather than flee to the billiards room with Mr. Hurst. The colonel’s easy conversation and witty comments defused more than one tense situation, particularly when Caroline’s patience was brought to the breaking point by either Mrs. Bennet or Mrs. Hurst. There was no help to be had from Mr. Bingley; he either was engrossed with Jane or chose to ignore the unpleasantness.

A light luncheon was served, followed by performances on the pianoforte. Georgiana only agreed to play after cajoling from the colonel and an offer to turn the pages by Elizabeth. Her performance was flawless and received much praise from those assembled. Mrs. Annesley then proved her abilities. Even Mary acquitted herself with respect. Her flushed cheeks, a result of the first genuine praise she had ever received, touched Elizabeth’s heart. Mrs. Hurst played next, and it was then Elizabeth’s turn. She performed without major errors and escaped any malicious remarks from Miss Bingley.

It was now time for the hostess to play as Jane, Kitty, and Lydia had never learnt, and Caroline dove into a complicated piece from Mozart. It was lengthy and compelling, and she played it well. Elizabeth listened attentively, and while she was impressed with the lady’s skill, she thought something was missing from the performance. There seemed a lack of sensibility, of feeling, from the piece. As Mozart was one of Elizabeth’s favorite composers, she knew his work should be performed with great emotion. Caroline apparently chose not to or was incapable of doing so.

So engrossed was she in her analysis of Caroline’s performance that Elizabeth did not realize the audience had decreased until Lydia tapped her arm. With a mischievous glint in her eye, her sister gestured to the chairs that had been occupied by Jane and Mr. Bingley. They were now conspicuously empty. Elizabeth’s raised eyebrow brought forth a giggle from Lydia.

They were not the only ones to notice the absence of certain members of their party. “I say,” remarked Mrs. Hurst, “where is Miss Bennet? Has she taken ill again? And where is Charles?”

Her voice carried over Caroline’s music, and the performer stopped abruptly. “What did you say, Louisa?” she asked as her eyes darted to that now-empty part of the room.

All stared at the vacant chairs. Mrs. Bennet, not slow in such matters, grasped the implication of the situation immediately and acted in a manner consistent with her matchmaking character.

“Oh, how wonderful! I am sure there is some good mischief about, but I shall not say more. No, no, not a word from me! These young lovers must have their way. Play on, Miss Bingley, play on! We are not wanted anywhere else, of that you may be certain!”

“No!” exclaimed Caroline as she jumped up from the bench. “We . . . we should go! Miss Bennet may have met with misfortune, and — ”

“Miss Bingley, pray calm yourself.” The colonel’s voice was gentle. “If your brother is with Miss Bennet, she is in good hands.”

“That is no comfort!” cried Mrs. Hurst. “Caroline, we must — ”

Just then the door to the music room was thrown open, and Mr. Bingley, face aglow, dashed in. “Congratulate me! Jane has made me the most fortunate man in the world!”

“Oh, Brother, what have you done?” demanded Mrs. Hurst. Meanwhile, Caroline had turned white.

“Louisa, she accepted me! My angel accepted me!”

“Where
is
your angel, Bingley?” asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“Eh? Why, right here — what?” Bingley looked about confused until Jane walked in, a picture of blushing contentment. “Oh, my dear! Pray forgive me! I could not wait to share our happiness!”

Jane smiled but said not a word. She moved to Bingley’s side and took his arm, her blissful eyes filled with tears of joy.

The room exploded! Shrieks were heard from Mrs. Bennet and her youngest daughters — and Mrs. Hurst too although hers were from a different emotion. Elizabeth dashed to her sister but could not embrace her; the girl’s attention was monopolized by her mother. So Elizabeth turned to Bingley and expressed all the love a future brother should have from a new sister.

As she waited her turn with Jane, Elizabeth noticed that, unlike her red-faced sister, Caroline was standing apart from the crowd. She was pale and trembling, and her eyes darted back and forth between the group and Colonel Fitzwilliam. She then closed her eyes, took a great breath, and with the most affected of smiles, approached the happy couple.