by Leenie Brown
“That is not unlike my wife.”
The chess set arrived just then, and they paused their conversation while it was set up on a table next to the bed.
“I fear I will not be able to reach every spot,” Mr. Bennet said as he surveyed the board.
“Just instruct me on what move you wish to make, and I will see it done. You may begin.”
“You never told me if Miss Bingley was warming to Sir Matthew,” Mr. Bennet said as he made his first move.
Darcy tipped his head to the left and then the right as he decided which piece to move first. “She blushed and dipped her head more than once at something the man said or did. I do believe he is in a good way of finding himself well liked if not loved.”
“Ah, that is good to hear. Felicity in marriage is a wonderful thing.”
“I believe you have the right of it,” Darcy agreed.
For five minutes the only sound that could be heard in the room was the moving of pieces and the occasional direction of Mr. Bennet as to which piece needed to be placed where when he could not reach to do it himself.
“Returning to my daughters,” Mr. Bennet said, breaking the concentration on the game before them, “my Lydia seems enamoured with your cousin, but then she is easily swayed by a uniform.”
Mr. Bennet’s hand rested on his knight, but he did not move it. “Lizzy says the admiration may not all be on one side.” He lifted his horse and placed it ahead and to the left, blocking the advancement of Darcy on his queen.
Again, Darcy’s head tipped to the side as he attempted to figure out the best way to get around Mr. Bennet’s pieces. “Richard assures me he is only interested in seeing Lydia improve.”
“He thinks she wants improvement?”
Darcy swallowed. Perhaps that had not been the best way to respond to the man’s question. He nodded. “Yes.” What else could he say and remain honest?
“He’s not wrong. Did he say why he thought she needed improvement?”
Darcy blew out a breath. “She asked him nearly upon her arrival if he was married and then proceeded to inquire after any beaus my sister might have.”
Mr. Bennet made a dissatisfied sound.
“He worries that she would be an easy conquest for a man such as Wickham. There are several of only marginally better morals in town.”
“Is that all?”
As Darcy took his turn, he heard the disbelief in the question and felt rather than saw the scrutiny he was receiving from Mr. Bennet. He shook his head. “Richard also feels that Miss Mary would have less to criticize, and Miss Kitty would have a better example to follow if Miss Lydia were to improve. That is why he selected her as the object of his instruction.”
He looked up to see Mr. Bennet still pondering him.
“It does not hurt that she has pretty blue eyes,” Darcy added.
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “He noticed her eyes, did he?”
Darcy responded with a small shrug and a nod.
“What if he did find her more than just an object of curiosity and a project?” Mr. Bennet asked, leaning back on his pillows, the game forgotten for a moment.
“He is an honorable gentleman if that is what you are asking.”
“In part, yes. But what of his future?”
“You mean money?”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “He is a second son, and my daughter has little in the way of wealth. Lydia is not a pauper, but she is not the sort someone in the colonel’s position might seek out.”
Darcy drew and expelled a deep breath. “He is not without funds and a home. He will also have his retirement once he leaves his position – if he leaves his position – in his majesty’s service.”
“He is happy in his profession then?”
Darcy nodded. “He seems to be, and there is talk of him joining himself to a position here in town. He has not said more than it would keep him on home soil.”
“Nothing is guaranteed in this day and age with so much unrest,” Mr. Bennet said solemnly.
“True.”
Mr. Bennet leaned forward and moved a piece. “Check.”
“Mate,” said Darcy after looking at his options to try to escape capture and realizing there were none.
“Oh, well, will you look at that? You are right. I had not thought you so captured. I shall blame that oversight on the laudanum,” said Mr. Bennet with a chuckle.
Chapter 12
Elizabeth wandered around the library, looking first at this book and then that one. There were definitely enough books here to keep her entertained for some months if not years. Some she had read, a few she was certain she never wished to read, and others called to her to pick them up and read them immediately. She sighed. It was as if she had been presented with a full tray of her favourite sweets. How did one select just the right delectable treat?
She moved a few feet from the shelves on the left side of the room to where a large globe stood just at the edge of a group of chairs. Her head tipped to the side, and she leaned forward as she spun the globe slowly, looking at the various forms on it. How she would like to have one of these to look at all the time. She smiled. If she married Mr. Darcy, she would, or at least, she would when they were in residence here.
“I thought I might find you here,” Jane said, as she closed the door softly behind her.
“Is this not the most beautiful room?” Elizabeth extended her hands and twirled in a circle.
Jane wrinkled her nose. “You know I do not like reading so much as you do. Therefore, I cannot agree that this is the most beautiful room, for I find many other rooms to be just as inviting.” She stood next to her sister, and while Elizabeth huffed her disagreement, she wrapped her arm around Elizabeth’s and began leading her around the room.
“If you do not wish to read, then why are you here?”
“To disturb you,” Jane replied with a laugh, “and to retrieve a book. Just because I do not enjoy reading as much as you do, does not mean I do not read.” She squeezed her sister’s arm and lowered her voice. “This could be your library.”
“I was just pondering that very thing.” Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm at the admission.
“So do you love him?” Jane’s whispered question was full of hopeful excitement.
It was not the first time, Jane had asked that question of Elizabeth. She had asked it many times since that night at the Johnson’s ball. To own the whole truth, Jane had even asked if Elizabeth could love Mr. Darcy before the ball, but it was not until after her reintroduction to Mr. Darcy at that ball when Elizabeth felt it to be a distinct possibility.
“I like him very much,” Elizabeth hedged.
“Like? Only like?” Shock and censure coloured Jane’s response.
“Very much,” Elizabeth repeated before adding two steps later, “and maybe more.”
It was the closest she had come to acknowledging what she suspected her heart was telling her. She was uncertain why she could not just admit that she loved Mr. Darcy, but it seemed too grave a thing to declare without proper consideration.
“He loves you.”
“I know.”
“He has been very good with Mama and our sisters.”
“They have only just arrived.”
Jane stopped walking and pulled Elizabeth to a settee. “You will not be living with Mama once you are married. Even if Papa were to die, you would not have to house her very often. You will be so far away, and you know how she is about travelling more than a day’s journey. She will not wish to make that trip very often, for it will require staying at an inn.”
Their mother had a great dislike of staying anywhere that was not the home of a friend or a relation. She worried about being robbed or murdered as well as contracting some horrid disease from some stranger that had used the cups or slept in the bed. It did not matter to her that she could and would carry her own cups and bedding. The idea that someone she did not know had been in that room or eaten at that table caused her to flutter and call for
her salts. However, Elizabeth knew that their grandfather Gardiner had died after contracting an illness on a journey, and therefore, her mother’s worries were not beyond comprehension.
“She will likely only visit you when you are in town, and then there are so many things to distract her,” Jane continued. “You must not let your fear of how vexatious Mr. Darcy finds her to keep you from accepting him.”
Jane’s arguments made sense. However, it was not just their mother who could be vexing.
“What of our sisters? Mama will expect us to help them find husbands.”
Jane nodded. “And we will. Just think how helpful Mr. Darcy was in finding a husband for Miss Bingley.”
Elizabeth could not help but laugh at the comment. It still surprised her that Mr. Darcy would participate in a scheme just to see his friend and Jane happy. Her lips curled up in that silly smile he so often caused her to smile. He had not just taken part in Miss Bingley’s demise for Jane, he had done it for her – so that he might be free of all fetters to pursue her for his wife.
“I am certain Mama would not be pleased to have any of our sisters fall into marriage as Miss Bingley has,” Elizabeth argued.
Jane giggled before countering, “And how many years has Mr. Darcy tolerated Miss Bingley as a friend even when she was so fixed on snaring him for herself?” She shook her head. “You are too fastidious. You cannot know every eventuality before it occurs. He has proven himself loyal and of good character. He loves you, and you love him, though you are too obstinate to admit it. Only good can come from such a match.”
Elizabeth leaned back on the settee and looked up at the ceiling. “Am I capable of running so large a home?” she asked Jane without removing her eyes from plaster flowers and leaves that wound themselves around the edge of the room.
“Without a doubt,” Jane replied quickly. “Mama has trained us well to run an estate twice the size of Longbourn, and you have the quickest mind of us all. You are perfectly capable of mastering whatever additional skills you might need.”
She rolled her head to the side, so that she could see Jane. “Can I help guide a young lady like Miss Darcy?”
Jane smiled. “I think you can. You are forever instructing Lydia on one thing or another, and Miss Darcy seems a far more receptive pupil.”
“But I know nothing of town,” Elizabeth protested.
Jane turned and took her by the shoulders. “But you know everything about loving a sister. You are very good at it, even when she steals your bonnet and ruins your dress.”
Elizabeth’s brows furrowed, and her lips puckered. “Or when she is pushing you to admit what you know to be true.”
Jane wrapped her arms around Elizabeth. “Do you admit it then? Do you love Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth drew a deep breath and expelled it to drive out the last worries and allow her confidence to fill in those places. “I do. I love Mr. Darcy. I believe I have for some time.”
“Since he first insulted you.” Jane pulled back and looked at her. “Do not shake your head. I am right as I usually am, though you will not admit it. If Mr. Goulding had said you were not handsome enough to tempt him, you would have laughed and made it a great joke. Do not deny it. I know it is true. But Mr. Darcy was different. You loved him from the moment you saw him.”
“I could not love someone I did not know.” Elizabeth extracted herself from her sister’s embrace and rose. “I found him handsome. And anyone would feel the slight of a stranger far more greatly than that of a friend.”
Jane laughed. “If you say so, but I think you are wrong.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“You will see,” Jane said as she smoothed her skirt and straightened her sleeves. “I am right.”
“You are not,” Elizabeth muttered.
Jane’s response was a smug smile which irritated Elizabeth more than any words might, and Jane knew it. It was how Jane always ended an argument when she thought she was right and Elizabeth was wrong.
“What book are you going to read?” Jane asked.
“I have not decided.”
“Good, then, you can help me find a book before you do.”
Sisters! Even the most understanding, proper, loving of sisters could be annoying, and yet, Elizabeth would not trade Jane for the world.
Chapter 13
Darcy nudged his horse to a faster pace. The day was young, and Rotten Row was occupied by several grooms exercising horses for their masters. A few well-dressed gentlemen dotted the trail here and there, but most men of Darcy’s class were likely still in their beds. He smiled as he saw Bingley just ahead, and Sir Matthew just beyond him. He knew he would see at least one friend here at this hour. Seeing Sir Matthew would be a bonus. He would make a point of joining up with them soon.
“Darcy.”
Darcy’s lips curled into a partial snarl as he turned toward the unwelcome rider who had called to him. “Wickham. It seems a rather early hour for you to be out and about. I would expect you to still be abed, not that I expected you to be in town.”
“Didn’t expect me in Hertfordshire either, did you?” George Wickham teetered just a bit in his saddle. “I’m just on my way home to get some sleep,” he added. “Not that I have not been in bed.” A wolfish grin spread across Wickham’s face.
“And what brings you to town?” Darcy asked, ignoring the implication of Wickham’s words. The man was a profligate of the first order. That he had been keeping some woman company for most of the night was not a surprise.
“I am merely visiting some friends for a day or two,” Wickham replied.
“I do hope you enjoy your visit.” Darcy nudged his horse forward. He had no desire to remain here talking with Wickham. He did not care what the man was doing in town so long as he stayed with his own kind and did not attempt to visit at Darcy House.
Wickham did not, however, seem to be capable of letting Darcy depart with so short a conversation and moved his horse to keep pace with Darcy’s.
“I hear you have guests.”
Darcy glanced at him. “Do you?”
“I do. A whole house full of pretty ladies.”
“And their father and mother,” Darcy added. He did not appreciate the suggestive tone Wickham was using.
“I also heard Miss Bennet is to marry your friend.”
“She is.” Darcy did not like the bent this conversation was taking. The knowledge of the Bennets being at Darcy House was easily explained away. Surely everyone in Hertfordshire knew Mrs. Bennet had been invited. However, the knowledge of Bingley’s betrothal had only been shared with Mrs. Bennet after her arrival.
“I suppose you will wish to marry Miss Elizabeth eventually if you can convince her of your worth.”
“Why would you say that?” Again, Darcy cast a wary glance at Wickham.
“Come now. We both know you fancy her. I saw how you looked at her when we met in Hertfordshire.”
Darcy said nothing in the ensuing silence. He had suspected Wickham knew of his preference for Elizabeth. There was nothing to deny, but Darcy also did not wish to tell Wickham he was correct.
“It is too bad she has heard of your poor qualities. It might make it a great deal more challenging for you to persuade her to accept you.”
Darcy wished to kick his horse into a gallop to be rid of the vermin next to him. “She is an intelligent young lady. I am certain she will soon discover your true talent is your deceitful tongue.”
“You mean as your sister did?”
Darcy whirled toward him. “You will not mention my sister.”
“Georgiana?” Wickham asked with a smile.
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Yes,” he ground out. “Your life depends upon it.”
“Does it?”
Darcy wanted to wipe the smirk off Wickham’s face with his fist. “My cousin does not make empty promises.”
Wickham leaned close to Darcy. “How is the good colonel?” he whispered loudly.
D
arcy drew back. The man positively reeked of alcohol. It was a wonder he could stay seated for he must be excessively foxed.
“He is well and staying at Darcy House. Would you care to give me your direction so that he might call on you?”
Wickham laughed and slapped Darcy’s back. “No, but I might call on him. It would be good to see Georgiana again. She’s such a pretty thing, and Miss Lydia.” He whistled. “Very agreeable and lively.”
“You are not welcome to visit. Ever.”
“Well, that would look right uncivilized of you to turn me away should I come to call on my friends the Bennets. I am certain that would curry you no favours. They already think you disagreeable.”
“Go home.”
The Bennets may have found him to be disagreeable at one time, but Darcy knew they now no longer did. There was very little fear that Wickham being turned away from Darcy House would do more than cause the youngest Bennet to be perturbed. However, Darcy knew that arguing with Wickham when he was sober was an act in futility, and it was even less productive when he was drunk.
“I may call,” Wickham said as he turned his horse toward the park’s exit.
“You will be turned away,” Darcy replied.
Wickham’s only response was to laugh loudly and wave.
“Who was that?” Bingley said as he and Sir Matthew approached Darcy.
Darcy closed his eyes. “Wickham.”
“Wickham is in town?” Bingley asked in surprise.
Darcy nodded. “And threatening to call at Darcy House.”
Bingley chuckled. “I would like to be there when he does, for I should like to witness the fond welcome he receives from Richard.”
“He is not a friend?” Sir Matthew asked.
“He was. At one time,” Darcy replied. “However, he has proven himself to be anything but a friend.”
“Ah,” Sir Matthew replied, “I shall ask no more.”
“Thank you,” said Darcy.
“Are you going to ride further?” Bingley asked.
Darcy shook his head. “No, I think I should go inform Richard of Wickham’s presence.”
