“Ah.”
“Yes, we were very fortunate that he came to us.”
Mr. Bennet studied him. “I believe you have made your own luck in this matter, Mr. Darcy. For a servant, not even your own, to come to you with their suspicions tells me that you have shown him kindness in the past.”
Darcy forced himself not to fidget under the older man’s scrutiny. “Perhaps.”
“What have you determined to do with Mr. Wickham?”
“My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, is even now taking him to London, along with the two men who assisted in the kidnapping. He will enlist Wickham in the Navy and purchase passages to the colonies for his two assistants.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “You intend to keep them out of the way.” He sighed heavily. “I am afraid that I cannot offer much to assist with these purchases at this time, but, as you are doing it to protect my daughter’s reputation . . . how much will this cost?”
Darcy came to a halt, his thoughts whirling. Mr. Bennet was offering to assist? He could see how the man might believe he ought to share financial responsibility for these men, but such assistance was not needed. Bingley had offered to bear part of the burden as well, but Darcy had refused him. Wickham was his responsibility—he would ensure the man would not trouble anyone else. But if he refused Mr. Bennet, would it create a wedge between them, resulting in yet another hurdle to overcome in his pursuit of Elizabeth?
Dread pooled in his stomach, and he forced his weighted limbs to move forward. “You do not owe me anything: Wickham is my responsibility. I am doing no more than I ought.”
“I highly doubt that. Mr. Wickham is not a member of your household, is he?”
“He is not. However, I am ashamed to say that I have played a large part in compounding his belief him that his actions do not have consequences. I thought to protect my father from bearing the weight of his favourite’s misbehaviour, and so I regularly ensured his indiscretions were hidden—in short, I followed Wickham around, cleaning up his messes.”
“Ah, so it is your responsibility to clean up this mess too?” Mr. Bennet asked.
“Perhaps responsibility is the wrong word,” Darcy said hesitantly. “Rather, I am in a position to prevent further harm—both through my knowledge of Wickham’s tendencies and through my financial situation.”
“Still, as it is my daughter you are protecting, I cannot allow you to bear the entire cost.”
“Mr. Bennet, there is no need. I have already refused Bingley’s offer as well.”
Mr. Bennet studied him. “Do you perhaps have a more personal reason for ensuring Mr. Wickham’s naval position?”
“To what are you referring?”
“Your regard for my Lizzy has not gone unnoticed,” Mr. Bennet said, a gleam of amusement in his eyes, “though you may be grateful her mother has not realised the same—she is convinced that you have a tendre for my middle daughter.”
Darcy tried valiantly not to flush like a schoolboy caught putting a frog in the teacher’s desk. “I do, indeed, love Miss Elizabeth.”
Mr. Bennet stumbled as though the response had been entirely unexpected. “Ah.” He sobered. “What then are your intentions with Lizzy?”
“I intend to ask her to marry me as soon as she is favourably disposed to my suit.”
Mr. Bennet frowned. “You do not believe her favourably disposed?”
“Not quite,” Darcy said, his lips turning up as he recalled Elizabeth’s various hints that she was willing to marry him. Hopefully, it would not be long before she had accepted the reality of his future vision and he could propose.
“Mr. Darcy, I know that you do not know Lizzy all that well,”—he threw Darcy a scrutinising glance, and Darcy’s insides squirmed at the thought of the many enjoyable hours he had spent “running into” Elizabeth on their morning walks—“but were she unfavourably inclined towards your suit, she would not be walking with your horse. Lizzy does not care for horses, and her affection towards yours is indeed indicative of her feelings on the matter.”
“Thank you for that insight, sir—”
“However,” Mr. Bennet continued sternly, “I hope your rescue of Lydia and management of those involved is not an attempt to influence her decision.”
Darcy straightened. “Not at all. Though I will own that my love for her has spilled over into concern for her family as a whole, I would do the same with Wickham regardless of which family he had preyed upon.”
“So if it was Maria Lucas who had been involved, you would still have pursued Mr. Wickham and taken it upon yourself to conceal the matter?” Mr. Bennet probed.
Darcy was reminded that the man’s indolence did not indicate a lack of wits. “Of course, I certainly would have assisted, however, I would not be now pursuing Miss Lucas. Miss Elizabeth is a woman like no other. Though I have been pursued by a great many young women in the years since my father died, I have never been interested in reciprocating. Nor have I wished to be the pursuer myself, until now. She is as lovely as any woman of the ton, however, Miss Elizabeth has something they all lack: character. Her kindness and compassion for others as well as her keen mind are things that I have come to greatly appreciate over the past weeks.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “My Lizzy will not accept any man who does not appreciate her mind. And with your reference to her beauty, it appears you have not held to your first impression of her?” he teased.
Darcy flushed. If only he had returned to a time before that comment and unmade it! He had been mad to say such a thing. “Not at all. I was—it was unconscionable of me to have said such a thing, and I have already apologised to Miss Elizabeth. I was attempting to discourage Bingley from forcing me to dance with anyone as I was already in poor spirits, but I should have chosen another deterrent. Were I to return to that moment, I would eagerly accept Bingley’s offer to introduce me to Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said earnestly.
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “I dare say you would. Well, if Lizzy can forgive you, I do not see why I should not. After all, I am certain she received ample entertainment from such ridiculousness.”
Darcy schooled himself not to take the older man to task. Clearly, Mr. Bennet remained oblivious to the hurt hiding underneath Elizabeth’s “entertainment” in this area. Mrs. Bennet’s comments had damaged how Elizabeth saw herself, and Darcy could not share Mr. Bennet’s amusement.
“And what of your—previous engagement?” the older man prodded.
“Pardon?”
“I had heard that you were promised to another.”
Darcy grimaced, recalling Mr. Collins’s assertion. “Though my aunt and Mr. Collins have assiduously put it about that I am engaged to Miss de Bourgh, I can assure you that I have entered no such arrangement. My aunt has always desired to unite Pemberley and Rosings, but neither my Cousin Anne nor I have any desire to accede to her wishes.”
Mr. Bennet nodded as though satisfied with this reply. “I am not surprised to find my cousin naught but a parrot of Lady Catherine’s beliefs.”
“As you say,” Darcy replied, unwilling to speak ill of Mr. Collins to the man’s cousin, despite Mr. Bennet’s apparent views.
“And have you spoken to Lizzy of your feelings?”
“I have. She has agreed to a courtship with me.”
“I did not know you have had the opportunity to speak . . . although I suppose I ought to have known since Lizzy insisted that she had a feeling you and Mr. Bingley would be out walking today.”
“Yes, we, er, bumped into each other on our morning constitutionals.”
Mr. Bennet’s gaze sharpened. “I hope I do not need to tell you to treat my daughter with more respect than to arrange a rendezvous. Such hypocrisy from a man who declaims Mr. Wickham’s guilt would be unexpected.”
Darcy swallowed hard, and his palms began to sweat. “I can assure you, sir, that this afternoon is the first time we have arranged a time to meet, and I did not think that out of place as it was a group outing.”
Mr. Bennet
halted, and Darcy also stopped, allowing the man to measure him. Though he often met Elizabeth on her morning walks, the closest they had come to arranging such an event had been after the ball when he had merely asked if she would be taking her morning constitutional. Yes, he was dancing the line of propriety, but he had not crossed it.
“I would prefer that any interactions you have with my daughter be attended by chaperones from now on. If need be, I shall require Lizzy to be accompanied by a maid on her morning rambles, although,” he glanced at the sky, “I doubt the weather will permit such activities for much longer.”
Darcy dipped his head in acknowledgement, despite the dismay spreading through his body. He could not fault Mr. Bennet for his strictures—after all, he would have enforced the same rules should a gentleman court Georgiana. “I am certain you have nothing to worry about.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled and began walking again. “You cannot tell me to take an interest in my daughters’ lives and then take it back, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy followed, giving him a rueful smile. “I would not choose to retract my advice even if it affects my courtship with Miss Elizabeth. I hope, sir, that you will not reject my advice after learning of my interest in her—it was kindly meant, and I believe it to be necessary both for your own happiness and the success of your family, regardless of how my courtship with Miss Elizabeth ends.”
“No,” Mr. Bennet said with a sigh. “I do not believe it to be merely a product of your courtship with Lizzy, although I suppose that might give you greater opportunities to interact with my family.” He sighed again. “I must confess that the advice is much more easily given than applied.”
Darcy’s lips quirked up. “Is that not always the case with advice? And with any changes to one’s character for that matter?”
“True,” Mr. Bennet murmured.
After several moments of silence, Darcy decided to bite the bullet. “You have been so gracious as to consider my advice in the matter of your family, may I also offer my assistance with your estate?”
“Pardon?” Mr. Bennet asked frostily.
“It occurred to me that, as you were a younger son, you might not have been truly trained to run Longbourn. Even with my extensive training, it was a—a daunting task to take over for my father after his death. I would offer to assist you in looking over Longbourn, much as I have been looking over Netherfield for Bingley.”
Mr. Bennet frowned. “Look over?”
“I believe it is helpful to have an outside perspective on one’s estate. I regularly employ the assistance of others to provide a review of my own estate—it would be up to you whether you take my suggestions or not.”
Mr. Bennet’s frown deepened. “What sort of suggestions?”
“I believe there are things which could be improved—new farming methods, different stock, other industries—which might increase the profitability of the estate.”
Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow. “So that my cousin may inherit a more profitable estate?”
“I am not aware of the details of the entail, but I believe that you could invest the monies from the estate’s income into an account and bequeath it to your wife and daughters in the event of your death.”
Mr. Bennet sighed heavily. “Let us hope that such an event will not occur until much later. I may yet outlive my wife.”
“I do not speak of imminent events,” Darcy hastened to add, though his heart was hammering at the thought of how imminent Mr. Bennet’s death might be. If the man had died sometime after Easter of the following year . . . he would ensure that Elizabeth was provided for whether she chose to marry him or not. Perhaps he could funnel some money into Longbourn? Invest in it? No, Mr. Bennet would not take kindly to that. At least Bingley could assist the Bennets after he married Miss Bennet—something that seemed likely to occur sooner than any nuptials between himself and Elizabeth, particularly if their every conversation was observed, he thought grumpily.
“Rather,” Darcy continued, “I speak of certainties. As you will, someday, die, it seems prudent to ensure your family is well cared for regardless of when the event occurs.”
Mr. Bennet passed a hand across his face. “I suppose you are right. It is the folly of man to expect the future to go on just as the past has.” He hesitated. “When I first inherited Longbourn, I had no idea of it passing out of my family. I assumed, as did Mrs. Bennet, that we would have a son and he could ensure any daughters were taken care of. Later, after Lydia was born, it seemed an impossible task to change the habits of decades.”
“I understand, sir. It is difficult to change the habits of decades. I had only twenty years of poor habits to remedy, and I have found it a constant struggle to change. However, it is getting easier the more I work at it—things that once took immense concentration some months ago, for example speaking about matters such as these with one who is not family, are becoming easier every day.”
Mr. Bennet eyed him curiously. “And what prompted you to effect this change in character?”
Darcy’s eyes flicked to Elizabeth. What ought he to tell Mr. Bennet? He had never envisioned sharing his experience with the man as he did not wish to create doubt over his suitability for Elizabeth, however, how could he explain his insult at the assembly? He had not been acting out-of-character for the self he had been at that time, yet he had already implied that his character reformation had been of several months’ duration.
He took a deep breath. Perhaps the man would be satisfied with little. “Someone whom I greatly respected took the time to detail my character flaws to me. Having that mirror put in front of me was not a pleasant experience as I had been ignorant of how I was perceived by others and of the negative character traits I regularly displayed; however, that experience allowed me to change for the better and I am infinitely grateful for it.”
Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow. “It sounds like a difficult experience.”
“It was. But, as I said, I am very grateful that person took the time to tell me unpleasant truths about myself. I am so rarely given the gift of personal critique as my position tends to insulate me from it.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “I suppose so.”
“It is why I have tried to pass that gift along to others like yourself. Though it is uncomfortable for both parties, I believe it is worth enduring the discomfort if it may assist someone in becoming a better person.”
“Hmm. I shall have to consider that.”
Darcy smiled. “Mr. Bennet, it was some time before I could even admit the truth of the reproofs this person offered. I have no doubt that your perspective on matters may change several times before you settle on a view. And, as I have only my own observations to offer you on the matter of your family, you may discover that my suggestions are valueless. I would be a fool to claim that I know the truth of what happens between you and your family behind closed doors.”
“And you are not such a fool,” Mr. Bennet murmured.
“I hope—I hope I have learned to moderate such behaviour. I have learned that I do not know what is best for everyone, that others may have better ideas of how to manage their own lives than I do,” he said, glancing over to where Bingley walked with Miss Bennet, the two of them deep in conversation, troubled lines creasing both their brows. Perhaps they could help each other work through the truths Wickham had revealed to them.
Mr. Bennet nodded towards Bingley. “I thought you were assisting Mr. Bingley in looking over his estate,” he needled.
Darcy reminded himself that he had not changed in a day and neither could he expect such rapid change from Mr. Bennet. “I am; however, I believe it is entirely up to Bingley whether he takes my advice or not,” he said calmly. “We each have a different perspective, different knowledge, different ways to go about doing the same things. Though he may not act the exact same way that I would, his methods will likely be more effective than mine for him. It was something I learned when I took over my own estate, though I have only recently learned to apply it to ot
hers.”
“Oh?”
“I believed that the best way to do everything was to follow my father’s footsteps precisely, to follow his methods down to the letter, and I attempted to do so. However, I am not my father, and his methods, though admirable, did not work as well for me as they had for him. It was not until I let go of trying to mimic him precisely in managing my estate that I was able to find my own way of doing things—one that has improved the pleasantness of managing my estate and increased its income. Though I still greatly value the advice he gave me and regularly utilise much of it, I have applied it in different ways than he intended.”
“I see,” Mr. Bennet said thoughtfully.
Darcy hoped his openness about his own situation would help Mr. Bennet with his fears regarding Longbourn. If he believed he had to replicate his father’s way of running the estate without knowing what precisely his father had done, it would have certainly added to the man’s stress and inability to move forward in improving Longbourn.
Silence reigned for several minutes before Mr. Bennet finally cleared his throat. “I believe I would appreciate your assistance in ‘looking over’ Longbourn,” he said, his gaze fixed on his daughters ahead of them.
Darcy suppressed a start of surprise. He had expected the process of convincing Mr. Bennet to take an interest in Longbourn, and to accept help, to be a long and arduous one. “I would be glad to offer my services whenever is most convenient for you.” Bingley appeared still deep in conversation with Miss Bennet. “If you would not object, I believe Bingley’s presence might be beneficial as well, since he too is finding the best way to apply the same principles and his land borders yours.”
The corner of Mr. Bennet’s mouth lifted. “You mean he might be able to ‘show me the error of my ways’ by accepting your suggestions,” he said sardonically.
Darcy stiffened. “Not at all.”
Mr. Bennet passed a hand over his face. “I apologise. I am afraid the events of yesterday have left me somewhat—on edge.”
A Vision of the Path Before Him Page 49
