Mr. Darcy of Longbourn

by APRIL FLOYD

  Lady Francine smiled serenely. “Oh, but there will be, Lizzy. You will marry your cousin and become a duchess in a double wedding with your sister or I will see that your dowry is divided amongst your younger sisters. No man of our circle will wish to have you then.”

  Elizabeth turned to her father but he only shrugged. “I can do nothing to stop her, Lizzy, for your dowry is her money brought to the marriage. If you refuse your cousin, and your mother does disown you, I will see you have money. Who is this man you say you love?”

  “He is a gentleman farmer in Hertfordshire, Papa. He is kind and handsome. He cares not only for his younger sister, but for his widowed aunt and cousin. I did not know until tonight my feelings for him, but they are true,” Elizabeth’s confession astonished even herself as she saw a small smile bloom on her father’s face.

  Lady Francine howled in anger. “You will never give yourself to a gentleman with no title Lizzy, I will not have it! Leave my sight you wretched girl and do not go again to Bingley House! I shall see them ruined if you dare it.”

  Mr. Bennet began to argue with his wife. Lord Collins, the lusty Duke of Salford crossed the room, his arms raised to quell the strife. “I would not have her now! I will not stay under this roof and be insulted further. Good evening!”

  Elizabeth quit the parlor and hurried upstairs to her rooms. She paced about thinking of the duke and how his actions forced her to confess to her father that she had fallen in love with Mr. Darcy. It had been a revelation to her as much as it had been to all present.

  Lady Francine argued with her husband for hours after the duke had left them. Elizabeth could hear their strife for her room was directly above the parlor. She could not have slept had they ended their quarrel as thoughts of Mr. Darcy plagued her hour upon hour.

  When had she fallen in love with the man? In Hertfordshire? She did not think so, but she had admired so many things about him that it seemed foolish she had not guarded her heart better.

  His aunt was a matchmaking schemer and his sister had won Bingley’s affections. His cousin, the poor sickly girl, had garnered Elizabeth’s pity and concern.

  It seemed to her now, alone in the darkness staring out her window as snow fell lightly over London, that the residents of Longbourn had changed her life in so many ways. Elizabeth wondered if she would come to regret knowing them, but the one thing she certainly did not regret was refusing her rakish cousin’s marriage proposal.

  Chapter 8

  By the end of the week, Elizabeth had endured enough of her mother’s ire and decided to return to Netherfield with her friends, the Bingleys.

  She had sent a note to Bingley House explaining her situation when her mother went out to visit the duke at his townhome and beg him to give her obstinate, headstrong girl a second chance.

  Lady Francine planned to beg the man to marry one of her other daughters, but Elizabeth thought it quite impossible. She had warned them all of his advances and vulgarity so that they would turn away from him as well.

  While she watched her maid pack a small trunk for the trip, her sister Lydia tapped lightly on her bedroom door.

  Elizabeth instructed the maid to hurry, for her mother might soon return. “Have a footman take it directly to Bingley House. I do not wish for my mother to know of my plans.”

  Meeting her sister in the hallway, Elizabeth smiled and closed her door.

  Lydia was fidgeting and Elizabeth began to worry for her youngest sister was rarely shy. “Lydia, are you well? Has something happened?”

  Lydia shook her head. “I came to you to discuss my decision to accept the duke’s proposal if he will have me.”

  Elizabeth was astonished by this news. “He is beneath you, Lydia. You cannot marry such a wretch. He compromised me in the parlor and Mother threatened to buy a special license so that we might be wed. I was forced to say he had not pawed me, that is how desperate I became to escape such a fate.”

  Lydia only laughed in her usual annoying manner. “La, do not preach to me, Lizzy. You may not wish to have his riches, but I do! I want the dresses and the jewels and the grand estate. I shall be a duchess and you will not!”

  Elizabeth was incensed by Lydia’s silly behavior. She might not change her sister’s mind, but she could paint a picture of misery. “Do you not care that he will not cease his vulgar and lewd behavior once you are wed? You will be pitied among his friends and acquaintances. How will you bear it?”

  Lydia sneered at her. “I do not care a bit, Lizzy! I shall be a duchess in a grand home. I do not marry for love! I only want what he has and will give to me. I wanted to tell you why I would in case he accepts the offer Mama will give him today. You must not interfere and ruin it all for me.”

  Elizabeth wanted to shake her sister to help her see the truth. “I will never approve of it and I can never visit you if you become his bride, Lydia. You do understand that?”

  “I would not want for you to be a guest in my home and have him leer at you ever again. I can bear his advances and his dalliances for a home and title as long as they are not aimed at you.” Lydia laughed again and flounced away.

  Elizabeth had hated her cousin more and more each passing day, but now she despised him. Lydia was foolish and too young by half, but she did not deserve what fate had tempted her into accepting.

  When her maid came into the hallway with the trunk, Elizabeth went back in her room to retrieve her reticule. Just as Lydia was lost to her, so was her place in this house if her mother made good on her promise to disown her.

  Gathering her courage, she followed the maid and left down a back alley with a footman in the gig. No one would see her in Grosvenor Square and Bingley House was not so far. And by the time she was in Hertfordshire, her mother would have closed her accounts and given her dowry to her sisters.

  At Bingley House, Caroline met Elizabeth at the door and ordered the footman to take her trunk upstairs to the room she normally used when visiting her friends.

  “Eliza, I am only returning to Netherfield as a favor to you, but you must tell me what has happened between you and the duke. Rumor has it that you told your mother and father you are in love with another man!”

  Elizabeth took her friend’s hand and pulled her upstairs to the parlor. “You must not say a word to Charles. Has he heard the rumors?”

  Caroline shook her head. “I do not think so, but you know he would never believe it anyway. The man you claim to love can be none other than Mr. Darcy if your choice of refuge is a home not three miles from his own.”

  “I will not entertain gossip, Caro. Perhaps I wish to return to Netherfield because there is no one we know from London there,” Elizabeth said as she watched her friend’s reaction.

  Caroline laughed. “I am right! Though I wish I were not. His family, Eliza, how can you think of aligning yourself with them? And there is someone we know from London there, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  Elizabeth had not thought of the colonel. But of course, he was stationed in Hertfordshire through the winter! “Since he is with the regiment, he will not come to London often and he has no friends in our circle. I do not believe he is a gossip either for he did not appear to be of that ilk.”

  “Eliza!” Bingley called as he greeted her. He had just come into the parlor. She hoped he had not overheard their conversation.

  “Charles, I am so pleased to see you! You must know how grateful I am you will return to Netherfield so soon and take me with you,” Elizabeth received the kiss he placed on her cheek with much gratitude.

  “I do not do it for you, my dear, as much as I do it for myself. Miss Darcy left Town today with her brother and cousin. I cannot bear to think of him proposing to her before I might and so we must leave come the morning. You do not think your mother may figure out your plan and come to drag you home?” Bingley laughed as he said it, but Elizabeth did not find his musings to be humorous.

  “Mother will be in such high spirits if Lydia is to become the duke’s wife she will forge
t all about me, that is my hope.” Elizabeth said.

  Caroline gasped. “What delicious gossip and scandal! Eliza, are you certain you do not wish to stay in town and see the spectacle? Lydia could never keep from telling everyone she took him from you. Will you remain in Hertfordshire for so long?”

  Elizabeth glanced at Bingley. He would make his home there if Miss Darcy accepted his proposal. “I may stay at Netherfield Park until the spring or summer if you will have me.”

  Bingley gathered his best friend in a fierce embrace. “You may visit as long as you like, Eliza. Caroline may regret returning to Hertfordshire if it is you and I and the Darcys who will be wed.”

  Elizabeth gasped and pushed against Bingley’s embrace. “Mr. Darcy? Why would you think I might marry the man? Infatuation does not a marriage make.”

  Caroline’s eyebrows shot up. “It seems Charles has heard the gossip too, Eliza. I do hope that Mr. Darcy is worth the scandal and loss of support from your mother.”

  “If my only concern was for money, Caro, I would have married the duke. I think of poor, stupid Lydia and the miserable life she will lead. All the money in the world could not entice me into such a union.”

  The trip to Netherfield Park was made the following day and Elizabeth received a missive from her father with several hundred pounds enclosed, but there was no word from her mother. His parting line still echoed in her mind — When your grandfather hears what she has done, I am certain he will put a stop to her ill treatment of his favorite grandchild.

  Now, as she stood on the gravel drive of Netherfield Park, she stuck out her chin and pulled her shoulders back. If Mr. Darcy had won her affections so effortlessly, she owed it to herself to see whether he felt the same. Against her own sensibility and better judgment, she had become infatuated with the man.

  It might prove a terrible mistake, she might have her heart broken, but she would have him know of her feelings rather than spend the winter in London seeking love where she had never found it before.

  Caroline took her hand and they went inside with Bingley as footmen carried the many trunks back inside the home they had left only a few weeks ago.

  Chapter 9

  Mr. Darcy entered his dining room to find his sister and cousin giggling over a missive that had come from Netherfield.

  His aunt’s face had lit up with joy at the news that the Bingleys had returned to spend the winter there. “Darcy, we must have them for dinner to repay their kindness to my Anne. With the help of that physician Miss Bennet sent to us, why our sweet girl has greatly improved. Just look at her! Surely Mr. Bingley will take notice.”

  Anne de Bourgh brushed away her mother’s hopes. “Mr. Bingley has returned to propose to Georgie, Mother. You must know it is the truth.”

  Catherine de Bourgh threw down her napkin and rose from her seat. “I have tried as hard as I might to see you settled before I leave this world, Anne. You have not attempted once to capture Mr. Bingley’s attention! Darcy, will you not reason with her?”

  Mr. Darcy did not hear his aunt at first for his mind was busy with thoughts of Miss Bennet. He wondered if she had returned with her friends.

  He hoped to see her again but there was little reason for her to come to Hertfordshire once more. Miss Bingley had teased her at that dinner in London about a man her mother had chosen for her to marry. He wondered if she had already become someone else’s wife.

  His aunt’s raised voice rattled the windows in their panes and he startled from his reverie. “Aunt Catherine, please! It is too early for such discord. Can you not be happy that Anne is well?”

  “Why do you vex me so, Darcy? Georgie may catch any man she pleases with her beauty and good health! I would think you might consider that Anne is the one who needs to marry the likes of Mr. Bingley. He could afford the physician from London.”

  Anne stood and threw her own napkin upon the table before Mr. Darcy might reply. “Mother, that is enough! You willfully ignore that Georgie is in love with Mr. Bingley, that she has longed to see him again as she did in London. She will marry him.”

  Mr. Darcy opened his paper as the women of his household continued to argue and shout over Mr. Bingley.

  He had known his sister was in love with the man. It was the reason he had taken her to London to see the Fitzwilliams. He had written to his Uncle Fitzwilliam of the Bingleys letting Netherfield when first they came to Hertfordshire and learned of their business connection.

  “You are only well until the next cold you catch, Anne!” Catherine de Bourgh complained and placed a hand over her heart. She called for Hill to help her to her room and declared that she had raised an ungrateful child.

  As Anne left the table in tears and Georgiana went after her, Mr. Darcy sighed. He hoped the two young ladies under his care would soon be wed, though his aunt was right about Anne. She would need a doctor all her life.

  Before he might finish his coffee, Hill reappeared and announced that Mr. Bingley had come with his sister and Miss Bennet.

  Mr. Darcy’s cup clattered against its saucer as the news of Miss Bennet’s presence in his home left him speechless. Hill waited expectantly, her eyes going to the stain that spread on the tablecloth from his spilled coffee.

  He gathered himself and stood. “Please, see that tea is made ready and allow me a moment. I will join them directly.”

  Hill gave a shrug and left to do her master’s bidding. Mr. Darcy thought the three women under his roof had affected his own good humor and took a moment to collect himself. He held up one hand to see whether it trembled at the thought of Elizabeth Bennet in his parlor. It did.

  Clasping his hands together, he recited some lines from Shakespeare to slow his breathing. His heart settled slowly from its frantic pace and he smoothed his waistcoat before running a hand through his unruly brown curls. He spied his likeness in the glass of the hutch as he turned. His cravat was still tied flawlessly. Mr. Darcy smiled at himself and laughed. “Steady, old boy,” he said in self-deprecation.

  Elizabeth stood when Mr. Darcy entered and waited as he greeted the Bingleys in turn before giving her his attention. “Mr. Darcy,” she said, her heart racing at how close he stood to her, “how lovely to see you once more.”

  Mr. Darcy gave a small bow and when he caught her gaze again, she was pleased to see he smiled at her. “Likewise Miss Bennet, I wondered if you had come with your friends again. What a pleasant surprise it was when my housekeeper said you were here as well.”

  Elizabeth breathed deeply as they all sat. So he had thought of her. A glimmer of hope lodged in her breast.

  There was a bit of an awkward silence before Miss Bingley inquired after his sister and cousin. Mr. Darcy sent Hill to find the girls after the housekeeper arranged their tea.

  He offered his thoughts on their activity. “They must be reading or knitting for they are hardly ever so quiet.”

  Elizabeth was eager to join the conversation. “I wish my own sisters would be so industriously employed. They are forever yelling, running about, and arguing over young men.”

  Mr. Darcy smiled. “I did not wish to tattle on them, but Anne and Georgie are certainly known to display dramatics when the occasion calls for it, and even when it does not. They are otherwise wonderful young ladies as I have seen that both read extensively. I do not think screens and reticules are enough to engage inquisitive young minds for very long.”

  Miss Bingley turned to Elizabeth as her brother and Mr. Darcy discussed the headlines of the newspapers. “Will you speak to him alone today Eliza?”

  Elizabeth reached over and pinched Miss Bingley on her arm. “Shush, Caro. I will speak with him in my own time. We have only just returned to Netherfield!”

  Mr. Darcy looked over in time to see Elizabeth’s hand return to her teacup. Miss Bingley rubbed her arm and scowled at Elizabeth but kept quiet since the man had turned to see what they were about.

  Elizabeth smiled as Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh entered the room. Miss Darcy’s f
ace plainly showed her happiness at the visit from Mr. Bingley. She gave a small, charming curtsey. “It is so nice to have your company sir, and that of your sister and particular friend.”

  Miss de Bourgh, who was in better health than Elizabeth could remember from their previous time in Hertfordshire, came to her and took her hand. “Miss Bennet, I am most grateful for your care and concern. Your physician has worked miracles, as you see. I am in your debt.”

  Elizabeth patted the seat beside her. “Please do sit with me. You have no need to repay a kindness for it is quite enough to see you so well.”

  Miss Darcy greeted Miss Bingley and moved to stand before Elizabeth and Anne. “I hoped to thank you as well, Miss Bennet. Anne is so very dear to me, like a sister truly. I know you understand the bond as you have four sisters yourself.”

  “I do, Miss Darcy, and again, I was most pleased to be of assistance to Miss de Bourgh. My father and mother taught us to always help those we could and pray for those we could not. I saw how your cousin’s illness at Netherfield worried you so and then to hear she was ill again while you were in Town, I knew our physician might be just the one to help,” Elizabeth said.

  Miss Darcy smiled and left Elizabeth to sit with Miss de Bourgh. The party enjoyed tea and conversation and before long, Mr. Bingley stood and asked whether Miss Darcy would care for a walk in the gardens of Longbourn.

  Mr. Darcy also stood and looked expectantly at Elizabeth. “Surely Miss Bennet might also enjoy such diversion.”

  She stood and excused herself from Miss Bingley and Miss de Bourgh and joined the others who wished to walk.

  Mr. Bingley inquired of his sister and Miss de Bourgh whether they might care for a turn or two in the gardens. Miss Bingley declined as Mrs. de Bourgh entered the parlor.

  “Why did no one say we had visitors? I would have come down much sooner. Certainly Anne would love to walk in the garden with you Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. de Bourgh said, her voice strained.