by Wendi Sotis
“Lady Catherine mentioned that you usually visit at the same time as Colonel Fitzwilliam, but this year you had been delayed. It was a while after I arrived here that I heard your name, sir, but when I did, I assumed you must be the same Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy that Lady Catherine spoke of. It was confusing at times — her ladyship would speak of you using your first name and then speak of Colonel Fitzwilliam using his last name. As you are both her nephews, figuring out which ‘My nephew Fitzwilliam’ she meant in any given sentence was always a puzzle unless the colonel gave me some sort of signal.”
Darcy nodded. “It is confusing for us, as well.” And it annoys the entire family.
Ah! So that was where he had heard her name before. During his own stay at Rosings, his aunt had spoken of the visitors to the parsonage several times, though they had already left by the time he arrived. Indeed, he could see that Miss Bennet must have been the lady his aunt complained of being “too outspoken.” He knew that, most likely, it meant she had dared to quiz Aunt Catherine about her proclamations instead of following them to the letter without question. Richard told him privately that the young lady was at all times proper, but quite entertaining. In fact, he liked her a great deal — perhaps too much.
“You should see how confusing it is when the entire Fitzwilliam family gathers!” Ana exclaimed. “Aunt Adelaide, Cousin Geraldine, and I are quite entertained whenever Aunt Catherine calls out ‘Fitzwilliam’ and four gentleman snap to attention.”
Were they? He noticed Richard was always covering his smile when it happened, but Darcy had always been upset by this habit of Aunt Catherine’s. If it actually amused the entire family, perhaps he should not take it so seriously.
“Oh, goodness! I cannot even imagine it,” Miss Bennet laughed.
Ana said, “I am delighted that you know Richard — Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Miss Bennet answered, “We became acquainted during the fortnight our visits overlapped. The colonel is a pleasant gentleman, and I am sure he is a fine officer. Are you close?”
“We are. Richard shares my guardianship with my brother. Actually, I believe he wrote to me about you and your friend, Mrs. Collins, while he was staying with Aunt Catherine. Such a coincidence! He enjoyed his visit, and you were credited.”
Ana looked expectant. Was she trying to match Richard with Miss Bennet?
Miss Bennet seemed uncomfortable, which pleased him to no end.
“The colonel was quite entertaining. I became friends with both your cousins. While I was walking the grounds of Rosings one day, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh happened by in her gig. She had been so quiet when we met in the parlour, I was surprised when she spoke up.”
“Cousin Anne is intimidated by Aunt Catherine. I believe most people are,” Ana said. “I never speak in our aunt’s presence unless asked a question.”
Darcy nodded. “And our aunt rarely requires more than one-word answers to her inquiries.”
The increased sparkle in Miss Bennet’s eyes indicated she was suppressing a smile. If Miss Bennet did not follow the usual pattern of those invited to Rosings, it was as he thought — the reason she had been labelled outspoken.
“Actually, Charlotte — Mrs. Collins — did not inform me of this practice. I answered your aunt’s questions as if it were a normal conversation and even questioned some of her proclamations,” she said, practically reading his mind.
“No!” Ana gasped.
“Lady Catherine told me I was opinionated for my age. My cousin gave me a thorough lecture about it the moment we left Rosings.”
“That does sound like our aunt.” Darcy tilted his head to the side. “Your cousin?”
Miss Bennet nodded. “After my father, Mr. Collins is our nearest male relation. Since Longbourn is entailed and I have no brother, Mr. Collins is the heir to my father’s estate.”
Darcy got the feeling she did not like Mr. Collins. He could not blame her — her cousin was a twit! How he managed to convince Mrs. Collins to marry him was beyond Darcy’s understanding. She was a sensible lady whose company he enjoyed.
She continued, “Miss de Bourgh, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and I met several times again during their daily rides. We had a few interesting conversations. She is a sweet lady. I like your cousins very much, indeed.”
“I adore Anne!” Ana paused. “You must tell me, Lizzy. Is it you? Are you the young lady with whom Anne is corresponding?”
Miss Bennet chuckled. “I am glad you know — I did not like deceiving you. Miss de Bourgh asked me not to mention it to anybody other than my sister Jane and my father.”
Ana clapped her hands. “This is such fun! I have already heard so much about you from Anne and Richard. I cannot wait to tell them we know you, too.”
Darcy examined his sister. Ana had rarely stopped smiling since he entered the room, and now she was even joyful and enthusiastic. Perhaps he should leave the ladies alone for a while to encourage their friendship — and to put an end to his fascination with Miss Bennet, which must be glaringly obvious by now.
“I am sorry, ladies, but I have work that requires my attention. I hope you will excuse me. I will see you at supper.” He rose, bowed, and left the room, nodding to Simons, who was on duty in the corridor.
After sending the note to the Johnstons’ farm, he turned to his ledger books, but could not concentrate. Leaning back in his chair, he put his feet up on his desk and stared out the window at the rain, still coming down hard.
Miss Bennet was an enigma. Brought up in a gentleman’s household, she could be content staying at a parson’s cottage or tenant’s farmhouse. She could hold her own in conversation with anyone from a farm boy, which he had seen at the ball, to his own relations, and even challenged the likes of Aunt Catherine. She baked fruit pies — delicious, since he had to assume the pie he tasted while visiting the Johnstons’ house last week was one of her creations. Happily caring for the children of a farmer, at home, she walked miles to check on her father’s tenants, and even concerned herself with the tenants of an abandoned estate nearby. She had coaxed his cousin Anne to showing some independence from her mother, even if it was as harmless as striking up a conversation via the post. Her presence brought out the best in his sister to the point that if he had not witnessed it himself, he would not believe the lively, energetic young lady he just saw had been in a state of complete melancholia only a short time ago.
Additionally, she had caused his cousin Richard to actually think about marriage. It was a good thing Ana had not heard about that, or she would be in the full spirit of matchmaking by now.
Richard’s time at Rosings coincided with his own by only two days. His cousin had been quite adamant that Darcy missed an agreeable time, which stood out since neither of them ever enjoyed their annual duty-call to Aunt Catherine.
As a matter of fact, Richard pointed out, “Mrs. Collins was a welcomed addition, but with the presence of Miss Bennet, it was like a lovely breeze had blown through Kent County, if not the whole of England.”
Darcy poked fun at the recent addition of a whimsical quality of his speech, and asked, “Is this lady a possible match for you, Richard? Has the uncatchable Richard Fitzwilliam finally been caught?”
Richard had shaken his head. “Alas, Aunt Catherine made a point of informing me that Miss Bennet has an almost nonexistent dowry, making that future impossible. You know as well as I do that if I wish to make my way in the world, I must either keep to my profession until I am old and gray or marry a lady with a large fortune.”
His answer had left Darcy’s mouth gaping open, for it proved Richard experienced some degree of regard for the lady and had thought about marriage.
Now that Darcy had met Miss Bennet, the idea that Richard actually considered matrimony with the lady was not as extraordinary as it once had seemed, and that fact now rankled his sensibilities.
However, the way Miss Bennet spoke of Richard, though she seemed to consider him a friend, there appeared to be no love lost
in her expression. The affection Richard felt for her was definitely all on his side.
An unexplained sense of triumph rose in his chest.
Guilt followed. If Richard genuinely did care for Miss Bennet, he should not celebrate his cousin’s loss.
Then again, Richard might have been attracted to her, but he had also known he could not marry her. Therefore, he would have guarded his heart.
When one looked at the situation in that way, the truth was that Darcy could marry her.
Darcy quickly dropped his feet to the floor and sat upright.
Good heavens! What had made him think that?
Rising, he strode over to the window.
His thoughts were bordering on the ridiculous again.
Neither he nor his cousin required marriage to enhance their connections. Darcy, at least, did not need to marry for money, but he always assumed he would, just the same. It was expected of him, just as it was expected he would marry into an ancient, noble family.
Miss Bennet’s father was a country gentleman. Never had he heard of the family in London. Her uncle was in trade — no matter how gentlemanly he behaved — and his wife, though she seemed like a lady, was the daughter of his father’s tenant and the sister of his current tenant. Miss Bennet also mentioned another uncle was an attorney in a small village. The heir to her father’s estate was his aunt’s clergyman. In addition, Aunt Catherine told Richard that her fortune was nonexistent.
No matter how attractive she was, the matter was settled: He had a duty to all his relations. Miss Bennet was wholly unacceptable to become the next Mrs. Darcy.
She would soon leave. Her correspondence with his cousin Anne, and perhaps even Ana, if he permitted it, would fade away to nothing once they realised they had nothing much in common.
He would marry someone from his own level of society, as would Miss Bennet.
A shiver travelled quickly up the length of his spine.
He rolled his shoulders and moved away from the window. It was the chill of the storm. Nothing else.
Darcy walked over to the hearth and gave the logs a nudge with the poker, sending sparks flying.
In the years to come, on occasion, he might remember how watching the beautiful lady in the cornfield had made him feel more alive than he had ever before. He would look back with fondness at how she had helped his sister recover. But she would be just that — a memory.
It was the way of things. It was appropriate. It was proper.
Then why was his gut twisting?
He shook off the sensation, returned to his desk, and focused on his ledgers.
He would get this work done before supper!
A clap of thunder rang out, and his thoughts turned to his sister.
Ana would be fine; she was with Miss Bennet.
CHAPTER 15
Hannah, who was assigned by Mrs. Reynolds to assist Elizabeth during her stay, helped her into a nightgown, one which had appeared on the bed while she was down at supper with the Darcys. The maid took Elizabeth’s gown to freshen it so she could wear it again the following day.
Elizabeth sat at the dressing table and re-read the note she had received from Aunt Madeline. She and Uncle Edward were relieved that Elizabeth was safely staying the night at Pemberley.
She dropped the page to her lap and spun on the stool to face the room. Her dressing room alone was almost twice the size of the bedchamber she and Jane shared at home.
When Mrs. Reynolds had led her up the stairs and through the corridor to the suite of rooms she had been assigned, she felt very small and insignificant. It seemed as if her suite of chambers was almost as large as an entire floor of Longbourn. She even had her own sitting room all to herself. It was a difficult concept to wrap her thoughts around.
She was glad her relations were at ease knowing she was here, but was there any way she could be at ease staying at Pemberley?
Hannah returned. Elizabeth turned to face the mirror again, and the maid began to unpin her hair. It was lovely to have help! Since she had been at the Johnstons’, every morning, she made a simple plait and pinned it up herself. Although she was sure there was a better way for one who was experienced in such things, her hair was so long and heavy, she tended to use a great many pins to keep the bun from falling during the day. Many nights she missed removing one or two pins, which ended up being painful when she brushed it out.
While Hannah worked, Elizabeth became lost in her thoughts.
Earlier, as Mrs. Reynolds escorted her to her rooms, Elizabeth had stopped at a table to look at a tray with some small portraits. Recognising Mr. Darcy, Ana, and Colonel Fitzwilliam when they were younger, she asked the housekeeper about the others. When she came to one, Mrs. Reynolds face drained of colour.
“Are you well, Mrs. Reynolds?”
She looked up quickly. “The maids dust this table. I have not really looked at these in quite a while.” She removed one of the portraits from the group, slipped it into her pocket, and rearranged the others so it would not seem like something was missing. “I cannot believe I forgot it was there.”
Elizabeth stared at her with wide eyes.
“Miss Bennet, would you please refrain from mentioning what has just happened to Mr. and Miss Darcy? I would not want either of them upset by it. The man in that portrait…” she folded her hands before her. “When it was painted, he was a favourite of the late Mr. Darcy, but since the former master has died, Mr. Wickham has shown his true nature. He has turned out very bad, indeed.”
Elizabeth agreed immediately. She recognised the name — it was the man who had approached her at the ball. “Can I see it again, please, Mrs. Reynolds?” She did not want to tell the woman that she had only seen him up close while he was wearing a mask. “I – I wish to know what he looks like… so I can avoid him if it is ever necessary.”
Mrs. Reynolds handed her the portrait. Elizabeth examined it then handed it back. Other than what he had done at the ball, what else had this man done that would upset Mr. Darcy and Ana to such an extreme that the housekeeper would react in this way?
The change in movements when Hannah finished removing the pins and began brushing Elizabeth’s hair brought her back to the present. The long strokes were rhythmic, and she allowed her mind to wander again.
She was still delighted with Ana’s company, for certain, and yet it had been different somehow when they had been outdoors — there, they were on equal footing. In the shearing shed for the ball, Elizabeth also did not feel intimidated. But here, in the lap of luxury everywhere she looked, she could not help but be reminded of how far above the Bennets were the Darcys.
Mayhap she would be more comfortable at Pemberley if Mr. Darcy was not present, for she enjoyed the time she spent with him a little too much. If only he had a house more the size of Netherfield than Pemberley, perhaps…
Hannah finished brushing. “Will there be anythin’ else, ma’am?”
Elizabeth said, “Thank you, Hannah. I will plait it myself. See you in the morning.”
“G’night, miss.” Hannah curtsied and left through the door to the dressing room.
She went to work, plaiting her hair. Her thoughts moved to when she and Ana had been waiting for Mr. Darcy in the sitting room before supper.
The trio enjoyed lively conversation during the supper of four courses. The Darcys’ cook prepared the best meals she had ever sampled, which was not a surprise at all. Glancing at the beautiful silver brush that Hannah had laid on the table, she nodded. Everything was of the best quality at Pemberley.
After their meal, although Ana and Elizabeth had not practiced their duet enough to present it, they put their heads together and found a few songs that Ana knew how to play, and with which Elizabeth was familiar enough to sing.
The way Mr. Darcy had stared at her while she performed made her hands damp, even now. Earlier, her heart thumped so intensely in response, she almost had to end her performance.
Mr. Darcy’s gaze, his voice, even just t
he sight of him, caused Elizabeth to experience sensations she had never before known.
Throwing the waist-long braid over her shoulder, she stared at herself in the mirror.
There was nothing special about her. She must be imagining Mr. Darcy’s interest.
When she had been in Kent, Lady Catherine often said that Mr. Darcy would marry her daughter, Anne de Bourgh, for they were perfectly matched in all that was important.
However, one day, when Elizabeth had met Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam on the grounds of Rosings, Anne made it clear she would not marry her cousin, Darcy. Later, in her letters, Anne admitted she wanted a love-match.
Elizabeth agreed that a love-match was the only way she would marry, as well.
She shook her head. Anne was an oddity. It was the way of the upper ten thousand to marry based on wealth, property, and consequence. Now that she had seen Pemberley, she realised her family fell quite short on all of these.
A pang of vulnerability struck deep at her core. She was in danger here with the Darcys, but not of the physical kind, as she had experienced last evening with Wickham. It was her heart that was at risk now.
If she fell in love with Mr. Darcy, it could only set her up for a great deal of disappointment.
Even though she would not be staying at Pemberley for the rest of her time in Derbyshire, she would be spending almost every day with Ana and probably would see a great deal of her brother.
In order to get through the next couple of weeks unscathed, she had to harden herself to his charms, or else she feared she would lose her heart to him completely.
Then where would she be?
~ One week later, 9 September 1811
The coach pulled up to the front of Pemberley, and Ana rushed out the door and down the stairs to meet it.
Watching from a window, Darcy held himself back from doing the same.
Miss Bennet had come to Pemberley every day since the ball, and Ana had not yet rid herself of the excitement of seeing her. Unfortunately, neither had he. Though he hid away in the study during most of the time she was here, except luncheon, he was getting very little work done because he knew she was only a few steps away down the corridor. He could hear their laughter from here, and he could listen to Ana play and Miss Bennet sing. The only time he was productive was when he rode out onto the estate.
