by Massey, Beth
Colonel Forster saw the man and woman his wife was complaining about and realized he knew and liked him. Mr Darcy was a close friend’s cousin. Richard Fitzwilliam, Ronald Bledsoe and Lawrence Forster had joined the regulars and trained together more than ten years ago. They had become best comrades and had stayed friends throughout their careers. All three had been promoted to colonel based on their service in the Peninsular war. Shortly after his promotion, Colonel Forster had bought the command of a militia unit. It had been an expensive move but it was a much better situation for a man with a wife and a growing family.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a person with a secret sadness. Charlotte said she had once had the liveliest of characters. She still loved to entertain children, and it was in that capacity he had gotten a glimpse of what she must have once been like.
Darcy noticed a group of people looking in their direction. They seemed to be talking about him and Miss Bingley. All of a sudden, he realized he knew one of those in the group. He had made his acquaintance through his cousin Richard. When the dance was over, he crossed the room to speak to Colonel Forster. They exchanged pleasantries, but Mr Darcy felt apprehension in his manner.
“You are stationed here in Meryton, Colonel?”
“Yes, I am the commander of a militia unit. Our assignment in Hertfordshire is fortuitous. Mrs Forster is from the area and always enjoys spending time in the neighbourhood. She is the daughter of Sir William Lucas. My children love visiting their grandparents, aunt and uncles.”
“Richard is not as fortunate in his situation as you—but then he does not have a family to care for. Once he is healed he will be returning to Spain.”
“Yes, I spent time with your cousin in London during his initial recovery.” Colonel Forster thought of a way to broach the topic he felt important to raise with Mr Darcy. “Did you know Richard is godfather to my son? He was born shortly after he returned from Denmark.”
“No, but he is also godfather to my daughter. Bethany is particularly fond of him. She says he makes her laugh, and she is hoping he will come to her birthday party in December.”
“We are preparing for my daughter’s birthday celebration. You must attend her party at Lucas Lodge if you are still in Hertfordshire.” Colonel Forster looked candidly at Mr Darcy as he prepared to make his admonition. “You will meet the reclusive woman you and your friend were talking about. She is both godmother and namesake to my Betsy.”
Darcy felt a rush of warmth as he became aware that the conversation between him and Miss Bingley had been overheard. He did not perceive disapproval in Colonel Forster’s demeanour so much as a touch of concern.
“She is a great favourite of all three of my children—primarily because she is a marvellous story teller and never tires of entertaining them with songs and games. I have heard from my wife that Miss Elizabeth is not as lively as she once was. But, one thing is for certain—she is a beautiful young woman.”
Mr Darcy was mortified and knew he must immediately make amends for his thoughtless behaviour. “It was uncivil of me to speculate about someone whom I have never met, nor even heard of before.” At that moment, an uncomfortable chill dampened the heat that had coursed through him when his indiscretion had first been mentioned. Did he know her? Her name was not Betsy like the Colonel’s daughter—it was Elizabeth. “Please give my regards to Mrs Forster. I believe an apology to the Bennet family is in order. I must also let Miss Bingley know we were heard, and I am certain she will be equally chagrined.”
Darcy moved away from Colonel Forster as quickly as he could and still be thought polite. For some reason, he was having difficulty breathing. His reaction seemed to be more than he would have expected in response to his thoughtless words. The balcony doors were close by, and he proceeded outside to be alone and think. He struggled to put the bits of information together—according to the colonel, the woman he and Caroline had spoken about was Miss Elizabeth. The family name of the five beautiful daughters was Bennet. He believed that might have been Bethany’s mother’s name—but he was unsure. Once their bargain had been struck, she had refused to allow her surname to be used. Anne knew it, but that knowledge had died with her. All payments had been made to Mr Gardiner in Cheapside and all the arrangements for John Reynolds that he had made had not included a location. Once again, the details of that agreement were handled by her uncle. Where had she said she was from that night at the theatre? All he could remember was her lopsided grin and mischievous eyes as she told him she had never before been away from home alone.
He must go inside and make his apology to Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s family. Turning to leave, he noticed a couple talking further down the balcony. The young woman had beautiful hair—a mass of fiery curls blazing under the light of a torch, loosely swept up with numerous tendrils escaping their confines. He could only see her back, but he saw the young man’s face. For the second time that night, he recognized someone. He had changed in the five years he had been gone. At eighteen, he had been tall and gangly; but now, he had massive shoulders and was an exceptionally powerful looking man. He was the man with the two young women who had walked to the assembly hall. Now he knew why he had seemed familiar—John Reynolds looked like his father.
There was something about the scene that made him uncomfortable. John seemed to be consoling the young woman—who could be Miss Elizabeth—in an intimate way. He smiled often, was holding her hands and seemed to be saying everything would be fine, and entreating her not to worry. He distinctly heard him say, “I know him to be a good man.” John Reynolds looked up and noticed Mr Darcy. He waved and pulled his companion down the balcony. When they got close, Darcy knew for certain it was not Bethany’s mother. For an instant, he was relieved, although he knew not why.
As he waited for John to begin speaking, he chastised himself. Why had he not countered Caroline’s cutting remark? He was almost positive he had said out loud that the mother of the daughter he thought most beautiful… his precious, precocious Bethany, who so reminded him of her mother… Oh my, he had agreed she was less than tolerable… and he did so just because he was feeling peevish and uncomfortable with the company.
“Mr Darcy, it has been five years. It is wonderful to see you again. Please allow me to present my friend, Miss Catherine Bennet. Miss Bennet is daughter to my employer.”
Miss Catherine curtsied, and gave him a brief smile—even so, he noticed one dimple. Did everyone in this family have smiles or grins that only registered on one side? She responded to him warily, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Darcy. John has spoken very fondly of his youth in Derbyshire and visiting his aunt at Pemberley.” With her next statement, she smiled a bit more, but still only had the one dimple. She said, “He says Pemberley is the most beautiful of all estates, and he has promised to show it to me some day. It was very nice to meet you, Mr Darcy. I must leave you and John to reminisce. Propriety dictates I have been out here too long, and I know my sisters will be looking for me.”
When Catherine Bennet was back inside, Darcy asked. “Are you engaged to Miss Catherine, John?”
“Not officially, but we do have an understanding. Her father and Miss Elizabeth have agreed, but think we should wait a year. Kitty, Miss Catherine, will not turn seventeen for many months, and Lizzy in particular, thinks she is too young. Both of us agree, and the year will give me time to make our married life more secure and enjoyable.”
Without thinking Darcy blurted out, “Miss Elizabeth decides who her sisters marry?”
“Yes, but it is a complicated situation. I do not want you to think she meddles in her sister’s decisions. Please come and see me at Longbourn, and I can explain what Mr Bennet, Miss Elizabeth and I have accomplished in the last five years. We have increased Longbourn’s annual income from two thousand to nearly three thousand pounds; and that is outside of the profit from the brickyard.”
Mr Reynolds looked uncomfortable as he said, “Miss Catherine was telling me that you and Mr Bingley’s sister we
re speculating about why Miss Elizabeth does not attend assemblies. All of her sisters are concerned by your remarks—they are very protective of her. That is why my sweet Kitty was so reserved. Even if her sisters, Mrs Forster, Mr Collins and I refrain from telling them, her mother and her Aunt Phillips will not. I suggest when you come to Longbourn, you consider apologizing to Mr Bennet and Lizzy. That should set everything right.”
“I will, John. I cannot remember the last time I have been guilty of such incredibly poor judgment. Please let them know I will pay my respects in the next few days.”
Darcy and John parted once they were back in the assembly room. He went in search of something for his parched throat and hoped to go back to clinging to the wall—and most importantly avoiding any more encounters with Bennets, Bennet employees or Bennet friends. He noticed that Charles was dancing once again with the tall, fair-haired sister and was struck by how the two looked like a perfectly matched pair of angels. He assumed the dark-haired young woman who was enthusiastically dancing with all the officers was also a Bennet, because she had arrived with Miss Catherine and John. Neither of them looked that perturbed that Miss Elizabeth had been the butt of a careless rumour. That left one more sister here at the assembly whose identity he did not know. He took a glass of punch from the server and turned around to see a third person he knew.
“Mr Darcy, how wonderful to see you here tonight. I left your mother-in-law well only a short while ago and I return tomorrow to Hunsford. I will see her again at services on Sunday.”
Darcy cringed to realize the man speaking to him was Lady Catherine’s parson, Mr Collins. He recalled John had just mentioned a Mr Collins. Was his aunt’s rector somehow connected to the Bennet family? Mr Collins’ looks were greatly improved—his hair was no longer plastered to his scalp with oil and he smelled of lemon and rosemary. Standing next to Mr Collins was a young woman who was slightly older than Miss Catherine but bearing a striking resemblance to her and Miss Elizabeth. She was not even making any attempt to smile at him. Her look was disapproving. She had light brown hair without the red and gold highlights of her sisters and piercing green eyes—eyes he had seen before. Her looks were not as pleasing to him as Miss Elizabeth’s but she would be a handsome young woman… if she smiled.
“Mr Darcy may I present my betrothed, Miss Mary Bennet.”
Miss Mary curtsied, but still did not smile or speak to him.
“Congratulations, Mr Collins, Miss Mary, on your engagement.”
“Thank you, Mr Darcy. It is an honour to receive congratulations from the son-in-law of my revered patroness.”
Mary Bennet, persuaded that no one was in hearing distance, and that her betrothed’s flattering had granted her the right to say her piece began to speak quietly but emphatically. “Mr Darcy, it has come to my attention that you said some unkind things about my sister. I think it highly improper to speak unfeelingly about anyone—it goes against my conceptions of Christian charity.” There was barely a pause before she seemed to remember more she needed to say. “My sister is a very good young woman. She is loved by her sisters, her parents, her cousins, her aunts and uncles, our servants and our tenants, and most of the population of Meryton.” This time she drew a breath before she renewed her denunciation. “She has been subjected to merciless gossip since she returned to Hertfordshire five years ago, and this is just one more slight she will have to endure. Though hardly a fragile person, she barely sleeps now, and I am sure that notoriety of this kind will not ease her anxiety. She stayed home tonight to avoid society, and ended up being the subject of everyone’s conversation—because of you and your friend.”
She looked toward Mr Collins, smiled and squeezed his hand before she continued. “I know I am mortifying my betrothed by being abrupt to a relative of his patroness; but I feel very passionate about my sister. I would do anything to protect her. I know we are indebted to Lady Catherine for his living; but we are also indebted to my sister. My father’s estate is entailed on the male line, and Mr Collins is the heir. In the past five years, the income from Longbourn has been increased by one thousand pounds per year, due in large part to the vision of Mr Reynolds and the dedication of my sister.”
She looked Mr Darcy squarely in the eye. “I would not think of saying unkind things about Lady Catherine’s niece, your sister. It would be wrong of me to say anything because I do not know her. I only know she exists because Mr Collins has told me about how lovely she is, and how accomplished she is on the pianoforte. He has told me about you, about your beautiful children, about your uncle and aunt, the Earl and the Countess, and about your cousins, the Viscount and his wife and about poor wounded Colonel Fitzwilliam. He speaks very highly of all your family.”
Darcy had never in his life been attacked by someone outside his family so fiercely. If the circumstances were different, he might feel the need to put her in her place. Instead, what this woman’s passion had unleashed in him was an overwhelming desire to see her sister and to determine for himself how she fared. He banished from his mind a pair of haunted eyes and said very quietly, “Miss Mary, I am sorry for my unkind words. Mr Reynolds convinced me to come to Longbourn and apologize to both your sister and your father. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, and I look forward to meeting you again in Kent. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I must find Mr Bingley.”
Mr Darcy started to walk away, and then returned. He said something that was most odd to Mary Bennet. “Mr Collins, have you told Miss Elizabeth Bennet about Lady Catherine’s family?”
“No, I have only shared my observations of your family with my betrothed. She will soon be at Hunsford, and all your family will eventually become known to her.” Mr Collins could not tell from Mr Darcy’s expression whether this knowledge pleased or displeased him.
Darcy turned, and once out of hearing of Mr Collins and Miss Mary Bennet, let out a loud sigh. This had been a very vexing night. There was a lull in the dancing, and Bingley was talking with all the Bennet sisters except Miss Mary. Mr Darcy shrugged his broad shoulders and took an unprecedented step. He joined the group and asked Bingley for introductions.
“Charles, I have been introduced by Mr Reynolds to Miss Catherine Bennet, and I have just met Miss Mary Bennet. Would you please do me the honour of acquainting me with the other Miss Bennets?”
Charles gave his friend a quizzical smile and said, “Certainly. Mr Darcy of Pemberley, may I introduce Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet of Longbourn.”
“I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, and I want to assure you that your reputation as beautiful young women is completely deserved. I know Miss Bingley and I were unpardonably rude toward you, and more importantly to your sister. I plan within a few days to come to Longbourn and make amends to both her and your father for my uncivil remarks. I was reminded of the gravity of my behaviour by something Miss Mary said to me. I have a sister that I love dearly, and would be deeply offended if I thought people were gossiping about her. I would protect her at any cost. I hope when we are again in company, that you will forgive my behaviour.” He bowed to the young ladies and whispered to his friend. “Charles, I have decided to take the carriage home and will send it back for the rest of our party.”
27 A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
“Oh, Mr Bennet, we have had a most delightful evening. I wish you had been there to see how admired Jane was by Mr Bingley. He thought her quite beautiful and danced with her twice. Only think of that my dear—he actually danced with her twice! She was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time.” Mrs Bennet lost her gloating look and tone and her expression changed to annoyance as she continued, “First of all he asked Maria Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her!”
Lydia rolled her eyes in exasperation with her mother. “Mama you know he only asked Maria because she is the daughter of Sir William, and it was he who introduced those at the assembly to the Netherfield party. Both Mr Bingley and Maria know they are not
suited to each other—and she wants to marry an officer like her sister—just as I do. This was my special night, and you have not told Papa and Lizzy how sought after as a partner I was all evening, or that I danced more than any other young lady present.”
Mrs Bennet ignored her youngest daughter’s comment, and continued with, for her, what was the most important news of the night. “However, he did not admire Maria at all. He could not stop staring at Jane as she was going down the dance. So he asked her for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Miss Long… ” She paused for emphasis, her face in raptures, “… and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two sixth with…”
Mr Bennet’s impatience with his wife’s account had reached its limit. “Have pity on me, Mrs Bennet. Say no more of his partners. I too am interested in how our youngest daughter enjoyed her first ball.”
“She was much admired as we all knew she would be. Oh! But my dear,” continued Mrs Bennet, “I am quite delighted with Mr Bingley. He is so excessively handsome, and his sisters are charming ladies. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. Though, I dare say the cut of their gowns was quite daring. It must be the latest London fashion. I intend to have all our girls’ gowns cut as low.”
Here she was interrupted again. Mr Bennet protested against any description of finery and questioned the propriety of exposing more of their daughters’ flesh. She was therefore obliged to seek another subject. She related with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire—after first disclosing to her husband and daughter that he had an income of ten thousand a year.
Mary looked perturbed with her mother’s telling and added, “But Mama, one of Mr Bingley’s, as you called them… charming sisters also participated in the uncivil remarks. You are not telling Papa the story accurately, because you want him to think favourably of Mr Bingley and his sisters. You approve of Mr Bingley because he was quite attentive to Jane, and you have no expectations of Mr Darcy ever paying notice to any of your daughters—and most importantly, no other young lady in the neighbourhood. Mr Darcy acted honourably and apologized to several of us, and he promised he would come here soon to make amends to Lizzy and Papa. Miss Bingley made no such effort.”
