by P. O. Dixon
How this pleased Mrs. Bennet. “Indeed, Mr. Darcy. My husband shall be most delighted to receive you. I believe he is out and about in the village at the moment. If I may prevail upon you to wait for him in his library, I will have Hill inform him that you wish a private audience.”
While waiting for Mr. Bennet to arrive, Darcy used his time alone to look around the room. Randomly organized piles of books cluttered the desk. He picked up a miniature of a young girl with auburn ringlets and bright eyes, and for a moment, he wondered if that is what Lady Elizabeth would have looked like as a child. He was still holding it when Mr. Bennet entered the room.
“You are probably wondering who this is — no?” said Mr. Bennet. “No doubt you have heard of my family’s past misfortune, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy returned the miniature to its proper place on the mantel, next to one that he surmised was Jane. “I do not deny having heard of a most harrowing incident resulting in the loss of your second born child. Indeed, I am sorry for your loss.”
Taking a seat and motioning for Darcy to do likewise, the older man said, “You are very kind, sir.”
Remembering himself, Darcy said, “Thank you for agreeing to see me, sir.”
“I believe I must be the one to be thanking you. It is not often that a gentleman such as yourself deigns to request a private audience with me. How can I be of service to you?”
The sudden look of discomfort that graced Darcy’s countenance could not have gone unnoticed. Mr. Bennet said, “Calm yourself, young man. No doubt, you have sought the solace of my library as a means of escaping my dear wife’s matchmaking schemes while your friend Bingley attends my eldest daughter, Jane. You are perfectly safe from me.”
The elderly gentleman removed his spectacles and commenced cleaning the lens with his handkerchief. He spoke of the miniature that had garnered Darcy’s attention and what it meant to him. Mr. Thomas Bennet appeared to want to talk about what happened, although, by his own admission, he did not know why he felt comfortable confiding such intimacies with a stranger. Darcy assured him that he was a willing listener. Sometimes it was best to speak about things rather than hold them inside regardless of the passage of time. It could only help.
Mr. Bennet said to his guest, “I understand you hail from Derbyshire. Although, you would have been too young to have heard of the incident of which I speak.” Mr. Thomas Bennet recounted making several long trips to Derbyshire himself and doing all he could to discover any information that might lead to his daughter’s whereabouts.
Darcy could say for certain that he had indeed heard nothing of any of this when he was young. More than likely, he would have been away from Derbyshire and at Eton when the incident occurred. What was more, he would not say that he had begun to make inquiries on his own since his arrival in Hertfordshire—inquiries that included writing extensive letters and engaging his own investigators. As of yet, the results of his efforts proved as fruitless as had been the results of the older man’s efforts all those years ago.
When he heard the gentleman mention his beloved daughter by name, it was all Darcy could do to remain calm and collected. Is the fact that his daughter and Lady Elizabeth share the same given name confirmation enough? The implications flooded his busy mind.
Amidst Mr. Darcy’s reverie, he heard Mr. Bennet remark on how his daughter was as a child. From all Darcy knew of Lady Elizabeth, he could well imagine her being that way as a child too—precocious and full of life. The more the older man talked, the more he confirmed Darcy’s internal speculations—answering Darcy’s musings one by one as if reading his mind and remarking on those traits he liked to ascribe to his missing daughter, which also resonated with what Darcy knew to be true about Lady Elizabeth.
Staring into the distance, Mr. Bennet said, “I always like to suppose that my Lizzy is out there somewhere.” He stood from his chair, walked over to the mantel and picked up the miniature Darcy had been holding. “I think I would recognize her anywhere, even among a crowd of a thousand people. Indeed, I would welcome my daughter with open arms.”
All this time, Mrs. Bennet had been listening outside the door of the study, so sure was she that Mr. Darcy was inside the library petitioning Mr. Bennet for permission to court Kitty. Already she had begun conjecturing the many things that she might do and say to garner his approbation. She was not insensible to the fact that a courtship of up to three months might ensue, but oh, what joy she would take in boasting to her neighbors of the prospect of a marriage by special license.
Nothing could rob her of her joy. Of that, she was certain.
Then the door of the library flew open, leaving her no time at all to pretend she was merely passing by on her way to another part of the house.
The shocking rudeness of the man whom she looked upon as her future son-in-law caused her mouth to gape. The way he looked at her as if questioning her being there listening at the door led her to know that he was not entirely pleased. He swept right past her with nary a word.
Mrs. Bennet stormed into the room vacated by Longbourn’s esteemed guest. “What on earth did you say to poor Mr. Darcy?”
“What do you mean, Mrs. Bennet?”
“The gentleman walked right past me as if he did not see me. Why, I was sure he was here to beg your permission to court our Kitty properly, if not come right out and petition you for her hand in marriage.”
“I am sorry to disappoint you, my dear. I assure you that Kitty was the furthest thing from the gentleman’s mind.”
“Oh, Mr. Bennet! How can you speak such nonsense? You know very well that Mr. Darcy has made no secret of his interest in our daughter.”
Mr. Bennet put his hand on his chin and brushed his fingers over his beard. “I confess he did seem particularly interested in one of our daughters.”
“If not Kitty, then whom? Do you mean to say the gentleman fancies our Lydia, for surely it is not our Jane? She is already spoken for by his friend, Mr. Bingley.”
“Indeed. It is neither Lydia nor Jane.”
“Mr. Darcy fancies Mary!” Here, Mrs. Bennet placed her finger on her chin in eager contemplation.
“Before you commence ordering wedding clothes for Mary, I am obliged to tell you that the gentleman made no mention of her either.”
“But the two of you passed a great deal of time behind this door, and you did say he seemed particularly interested in one of our daughters. If not Jane or Kitty or Lydia or even Mary then which of our daughters do you—” Annoyance riddled Mrs. Bennet’s countenance. “Pray you have not been indulging once again in your fanciful notions of our second daughter being alive. Oh, Mr. Bennet! We all miss her and we all wish she were still with us, but it has been over a decade and a half. You must come to grips with the fact that our daughter is no longer of this earth.”
She placed her hands on her waist. “You had much better have spent your time promoting our living daughter to Mr. Darcy. Kitty is the one who has garnered his esteem.”
“With all due respect, my dear Mrs. Bennet, I am afraid you may have got a little ahead of yourself. Wherever did you get such a notion that a man of Mr. Darcy’s consequence, a man of sense, education, and great knowledge of the world, would take an interest in Kitty. Why, she is easily one of the silliest girls in all of England.”
“You were at the assembly! You saw how ardently Mr. Darcy singled Kitty out as the object of his fascination almost from the moment he first laid eyes on her. I have noticed the manner in which he has regarded her on every subsequent occasion of their being in company together. All the best symptoms of affection are there. If you would but spend more time beyond the confines of this room, you would know that of which I speak.”
Chapter 15 ~ A Proper Conclusion
Mrs. Bennet insisted that all her girls prepare for the ball at Netherfield with extra care, especially Kitty and Jane. While it would have satisfied her every notion of happiness if both daughters would be married, the prospect of her Kitty marrying Mr. Darcy pleased h
er more. Mr. Bingley’s fortune was good, but it was nothing in comparison with Mr. Darcy’s. Indeed, if she could see but one of her daughters well settled, it would have to be Kitty.
Once Kitty and Mr. Darcy were married, then she would focus upon Jane and Mr. Bingley.
For Jane’s part, though she would admit it to no one, she liked Mr. Bingley very much. She found him sensible, good-humored, and lively, and she never saw such happy manners—so much ease, with such perfect good breeding. Indeed, to her way of thinking, he was everything a gentleman ought to be. Still, she was very much guarded when it came to showing her true feelings and not solely with Mr. Bingley, but among others in general. The pain she had long suffered while growing up without her dearest Lizzy had taken its toll on her as the years continued to pass by and Lizzy was not found. As much as she would have liked to give her heart freely, she was persuaded such a thing might never happen. Sighing, Jane threw a patient glance over her shoulder at the spectacle her mother and younger sisters were making and then quit the room.
Dancing around the bed, young Lydia made fun of her sister Kitty’s predicament. “You are perfectly welcome to your Mr. Darcy, Kitty. I declare I do not like him at all, even if he is so very rich. I much prefer a gentleman in a red coat. I declare I cannot wait to dance with all the officers in the room.”
Kitty crossed one arm over the other. “Why should I be the one to marry that proud man? I do not like him either, even if he does stare at me.”
“Proud!” Mrs. Bennet said. “A man of his circumstances can afford to be as proud as he wishes. However, I contend you are wrong. He is merely shy. Mr. Darcy likes you. If you would but give him the slightest bit of encouragement, I daresay you will be rewarded magnificently.” She took her daughter by the hand. “Just think what pin money you shall have. You shall have many fine clothes and fine carriages as well. Oh, my dearest Kitty, I believe I shall go distracted.”
~*~
Darcy’s scheme for the evening was simple: to observe the Bennet family. He was convinced that there was a connection between the Bennets and Lady Elizabeth Montlake. Of course, he had no real proof other than a strong family resemblance and the knowledge that the family suffered the loss of a child, who would, by now, be Lady Elizabeth’s age. Is that enough to draw a proper conclusion?
Well aware that his actions had given rise to the belief that he fancied one of the Bennet daughters, Darcy made a concerted effort to avoid being caught admiring any of them that evening. It was a task easier said than done, for one thing that could be said about the Bennets of Longbourn was that they made themselves hard to ignore. One simply could not help being drawn to them. That night at the ball was no exception. Therein was the disadvantage, for the more he observed them, the more he found them wholly objectionable.
What an appalling display of improper decorum he beheld. Darcy was looking at the unfolding spectacle with disgust when thus accosted by Miss Bingley.
“I had hoped by now that you would have spoken to your future mother-in-law about your future bride’s manner of comporting herself this evening, Mr. Darcy.”
“If you are referring to Mrs. Bennet as being one’s future mother-in-law, then you may as well be speaking to your brother.”
“Why, whom else would I be speaking of? Who else boasted aloud that her daughter would be the next mistress of Pemberley?”
Darcy did his best to retain a measure of calm he did not possess in the wake of Miss Bingley’s teasing. He said nothing.
“Come now, sir. Are we to pretend that you did not hear her speaking to Lady Lucas at supper? We were both sitting but two seats away.”
“I believe I heard the woman boast of her eldest daughter being the future mistress of Netherfield as well,” Darcy said pointedly.
Miss Bingley rolled her eyes. “How absurd.”
Just then, the very object of Miss Bingley’s teasing skipped by with her youngest sister. Miss Bingley said, “I find it hard to believe that those silly girls are allowed to be out before their eldest sister is married. The youngest is not yet fifteen, and your future bride cannot be older than your sister, Miss Darcy. But then again, what a gay time the three girls will have once you bring your future wife to Pemberley. I do not imagine one of the sisters will go without the other, and let us not suppose that your future mother-in-law will wish to stay away.”
Fully prepared to ignore anything more that his companion might wish to say, the sight of another Bennet daughter preparing to take her place at the pianoforte soon drew Darcy’s attention. He had borne witness to that spectacle at least one other time before at Lucas Lodge, in fact. It was the evening when he learned of the Bennets’ misfortunes.
His thoughts immediately wandered to another young lady’s performance, her fine eyes, and her light and pleasing figure. He inwardly laughed at the irony that almost everything in his day-to-day existence led his mind back to pleasing thoughts of Lady Elizabeth Montlake. He began to wonder what she was doing at that very moment. To whom was she speaking and whom was she seeing?
By now, a crowd had gathered around Miss Mary, which seemed to bolster her confidence and encourage her to continue playing. She had been exhibiting for a while when her father approached the instrument and beckoned his daughter to give the other girls a chance to perform. This was done in a manner that caused the poor girl to race off in tears. While Darcy was pleased that someone more talented would begin playing, he suffered the pain of seeing a father embarrass his child in public. How unexpected this was, for despite knowing that Mr. Bennet was an inattentive father, Darcy was never given to consider the man was mean-spirited. Are these Bennets wholly lacking in proper sensibilities?
Miss Bingley observed the spectacle as well. She had her own ideas of Mr. Bennet’s behavior and she did not bother to keep them to herself. “I do not know whether to praise Mr. Bennet for sparing us all the prospect of listening to another minute of his daughter’s exhibition or chastise him for joining in on the spectacle. However, as Miss Mary possesses neither genius nor taste, I am inclined to choose the former.” She laced her hand through Darcy’s folded arm. “What say you, Mr. Darcy?”
“I say I would not have comported myself in such a manner were I in his shoes. However, as I can have no true idea of what the gentleman has suffered that fashioned his character, I am not the one to judge him.”
“Have it as you wish, sir. However, when I consider how the rest of his daughters turned out - Miss Bennet being the exception - I do not know that having reared yet another daughter would have made a difference.”
Hearing this nettled him exceedingly, and he did not care if she knew. “Miss Bingley!”
“What did I say that was untrue? That gentleman and his wife have managed to rear some of the silliest girls in all of England. What that family desperately needed was fewer daughters and at least one son!”
Darcy, by now, had heard enough from his friend’s sister and he simply walked away. Besides, he planned to depart from Hertfordshire very early the next day. He had matters to attend to in Derbyshire that he had put off long enough.
Before ascending the grand staircase on the way to his apartment, Darcy threw a reflective glance over his shoulder at some of the people whom he had come to know during his brief stay in Hertfordshire. He could safely say many of them he wished never to lay eyes on again. He shook his head to ward off the thoughts that threatened to consume him—that there might be a connection between the Bennets and the Montlakes.
It is wholly inconceivable, and I shall dwell upon it no more.
Chapter 16 ~ No More Misunderstandings
The unfortunate news of Lord Robert Frawley’s death was the means of uniting Darcy and his friend Lord Avery Montlake at the start of the new year. There had been an accident, a shipwreck, and no word of any survivors. Although nothing was ever final in terms of a genuine betrothal between Frawley and Lady Elizabeth, Darcy still rather supposed that Lady Elizabeth was devastated by the news.
&n
bsp; How Darcy wished that in calling on his friend Avery to offer his condolences, he might have a chance to see Lady Elizabeth, but upon his arrival, he learned that Lady Elizabeth was away. She and her mother had traveled to the North along with the duke. Their party was due to return within a few days.
It was just as well. His being there had awakened questions in his mind that he decided were best left unanswered. Satisfied that he had done his part in speaking with his friend, Darcy took his leave. He had just mounted his horse when the sight of a young woman walking across the field in the direction of the stable drew his eye.
A rush of excitement overcame him as he began to realize who the woman was: Lady Elizabeth. Seizing the opportunity to see her after so many months, Darcy dismounted his horse and handed the reins over to his groom, who had accompanied him on the trip. He hastened in her direction with long, purposeful strides. Soon they were standing directly before each other.
“Mr. Darcy, what a pleasure it is to see you after all this time.”
“Indeed, the pleasure is all mine, Lady Elizabeth, for I was given to believe I would not see you at all. Your brother said that you were not expected to return until tomorrow.”
“My grandfather decided to shorten our visit.” Lady Elizabeth’s eyes fell on her gown—six inches deep in mud. She felt the color spread over her body. “Oh, you must think I present a horrible spectacle, Mr. Darcy. You see, sir, in my eagerness to escape the confines of the carriage, I persuaded my mother to allow me to walk ahead of the rest of our party while my grandfather visited the village to settle matters of business. Had I known that I might be discovered, I am sure I would have exercised greater care in traversing the countryside.”
