An Inconvenient Courtship (Regency Romance)

by Dana R. Lynn

  “I thank you for your concern, madam. The situation has improved, although it is not completely better yet. I do have hopes that it will be in the near future.”

  She saw the way his eyes flickered to Miss Darcy and understood his sister was somehow involved in his worries. Knowing how he loved Georgiana, her heart ached for both Mr. Darcy and her young friend. Hopefully, one of them would soon feel comfortable enough with her to share the story. In the meantime, she would hold her tongue.

  Casually, she shifted the conversation to a more neutral topic. Soon they found themselves discussing literature. She was pleased to note that their tastes were similar. An inner imp had her taking opposing arguments to his thoughts, just to witness his responses. His eyes sparked to life as a lively debate began. Just to keep him off balance, she contrarily switched sides in the middle of the debate, prompting him to backtrack to keep up with her.

  Muffled laughter drew their attention. Mr. Bennet was standing with Colonel Fitzwilliam, a ledger book between them. Elizabeth realized almost at once what was happening and joined in the merriment.

  “They are keeping score,” she informed Mr. Darcy. “I wonder which of us is in the lead?”

  “It can hardly matter, madam, since you kept changing sides,” he scoffed. “I felt I was debating several people all at once.”

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy, I do apologize,” she mourned, looking at him with her most contrite expression, although mirth still quivered in her sweet voice. “I didn’t realize you would have such a difficult time keeping up with me.”

  Darcy snorted, then looked amazed such an inelegant sound came from him. Elizabeth started to giggle, laughing until tears streamed down her face. A spotless handkerchief was pushed into her hands. Still chortling, she wiped her face, then tried to hand the cloth back to its owner. Mr. Darcy shook his head, a rueful expression on his face.

  “I believe you might want to hold onto that for the moment, Miss Elizabeth. At least until you can exchange it with one of your own. I greatly fear that you will be laughing at my expense again before the day is over.” His smile belied any reproof his words might have held. Indeed, as their eyes met, she was once again struck with the tenderness held in their depths.

  Elizabeth felt so improved that she was able to remain in company through luncheon. Dr. Taylor examined her again that afternoon and declared in a day or two she would be well enough to endure the carriage ride home. Torn between longing for her own room and disappointment that she would be separated from Mr. Darcy, she gratefully accepted when Mr. Darcy and Georgiana asked her to accompany them on a short walk around the grounds. The ladies gathered their shawls and bonnets. Elizabeth noticed with some interest Mr. Bingley and her father entering the study for a private conversation. Her eyes sought out Jane, who blushed and gave her a tremulous smile. Oh! She would definitely want to speak with Jane when she returned. It looked as though the courtship that had started so many weeks ago would finally move forward.

  Georgiana stayed with Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy for the first few minutes, but then discreetly allowed herself to lag behind to give them a chance to converse privately. Elizabeth flashed a look of appreciation back at her young friend, who winked in response.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy spoke her name softly. “I have asked your father if I might call on you once you return to Longbourn. He has granted me permission on the condition that you are open to accepting my calls.”

  Elizabeth’s breath caught. Her heart pounded. Such a difference a week could make in how one felt. She could think of nothing she would like better.

  “A few days ago, I would not have accepted your offer,” she started. As his face fell, she boldly touched his arm. “I so little understood your character, and I am ashamed of my willful blindness to your good qualities. Yes, Mr. Darcy, I would very much welcome being called on by you.”

  A pleased smile spread across his handsome face. He took her gloved hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow as they continued walking. His eyes lit with excitement.

  “Miss Elizabeth, forgive me but your acceptance has given me hope. I had thought to be patient, but now find myself filled with impatience. May I speak boldly?”

  At that moment, Elizabeth didn’t care if they were being improper or not. She had an idea of what he wanted to say. His countenance practically glowed with his affection for her. But years of breeding made her feel suddenly too shy to speak the words. She managed to nod her head at him. She could feel her hand trembling on his arm.

  “Do you think, Miss Elizabeth, that you might also welcome a courtship someday?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Even expecting him to say this very thing, it still surprised her to hear such boldness from the cautious man she knew. Yet, she was joyful at his boldness.

  “Mr. Darcy, I believe I can tell you that, yes, I would welcome a courtship.”

  “How soon?”

  Elizabeth laughed at his eagerness. She understood. Now that they were getting to know each other, she had no wish to linger unnecessarily.

  “Mr. Darcy, as soon as my father gives his consent, then so will I.”

  The couple continued their walk, hardly knowing what they were speaking about. They were full of expectation of what their future together might look like.

  Mr. Darcy lost no time in asking her father for a moment when they returned to the house. She was still awaiting their return when the butler announced the arrival of Mrs. Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet, Miss Catherine Bennet, Miss Lydia Bennet, and Mr. William Collins.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was a noisy group that gathered in the front parlor. Mrs. Bennet immediately started praising everyone and everything in sight. Everything was declared delightful and charming. The youngest Bennet daughters, Catherine, called Kitty by her family, and Lydia giggled loudly and pointed rudely. Mary, the middle daughter, sat in a chair off to the side, silently watching with a disapproving frown. Elizabeth and Jane sat together, mortified blushes staining their cheeks, as their mother continued on in her loud and boisterous voice. Miss Bingley, Elizabeth noted, was biting her lips to keep from commenting. Elizabeth felt a little bitter, until her former enemy flashed her an apologetic glance. She’s actually trying, Elizabeth thought, amazed.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam and Dr. Taylor stood tall, their bearing and commanding expressions hinting at their military calling as much as their uniforms did.

  “Ooh, Mama, look!” Lydia gushed, interrupting her parent. “Officers!” The foolish girl batted her pretty blue eyes at the gentlemen.

  Mrs. Bennet patted her Lydia’s hand affectionately, but offered no rebuke for her behavior. Elizabeth would have been surprised if she had. Lydia Bennet might have been the youngest of the five Bennet daughters, but she was also the wildest. Unfortunately, as her mother’s favorite, she had been indulged and spoiled. She was even allowed out at the age fifteen, instead of waiting until she was seventeen like most girls. Kitty followed Lydia’s lead.

  “Lydia, you know that flirting and vanity have no place in the heart of a virtuous lady.”

  Jane and Elizabeth looked with wide eyes at their sister, Mary. While they were used to her preaching, this rebuke seemed more appropriate than her usual remarks.

  “Well said, Miss Mary,” a deep voice congratulated the middle Bennet daughter. Mary flushed beet red at being singled out by Dr. Taylor. No one in the room could mistake the look of admiration and interest in his eyes as he beheld the plainest of the Bennet daughters. Mrs. Bennet certainly did not. She was quick to begin listing all of Mary’s fine qualities and accomplishments. Dr. Taylor paid her no heed, but remained focused on Mary, who sat taller and appeared to grow in confidence at the attention of such a fine man.

  “Mrs. Bennet, I do not believe Dr. Taylor needs you to innumerate Mary’s talents.” Mr. Bennet remarked as he strode into the room, a smiling Mr. Darcy behind him. “The man has as keen an intellect as any I know. I am sure he will see for himself what a delightful woman our Ma
ry is.”

  This praise from her father had Mary absolutely glowing.

  At the gentlemen’s entrance, Mr. Collins leapt to his feet quicker than one would expect given his portly appearance. His face assumed a quirky expression, something between servile and smug. He approached Mr. Bennet with a broad smile and made as if to embrace him. Mr. Bennet stepped back, his eyes widening with alarm.

  Mr. Collins settled for a grotesque little bow.

  “Dear sir. Cousin! I am honored to make your acquaintance, and hopefully we might mend this breach which lies between us. I even go so far as to hope to someday call you father.”

  At this Mr. Bennet reared back in astonishment. “Call me father? My dear sir, I do not understand your meaning. Of what do you speak?” Mr. Bennet did, however, cast a scalding glance at his wife, who adopted an innocent expression.

  “Of course, let me explain,” Mr. Collins said in an oily voice. “I am here at the behest of my most esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” The little man paused for affect. When no one reacted, he continued, a little less exuberantly than before. “Lady Catherine has informed me she wants me to marry and condescended to suggest I might search for a wife among my lovely cousins, so that upon your death, they would find the security all young ladies seek.”

  Elizabeth and Jane grimaced at each other. They had always known that, due to an entailment which demanded the estate pass to a man, their father’s land and their home would be inherited by a distant cousin. Until that day, they had never met the man. Their father had frequently referred to him as ridiculous. Now they understood why.

  Mr. Collins continued his arrogant speech. “Mrs. Bennet has been so kind as to counsel me in this regard. Of course, Miss Bennet is the eldest and–“

  “She’s betrothed!” Mr. Bingley blurted, his eyes nearly bugging out of his anxious face.

  Unlike Mr. Collins’ speeches, this information was met by screeches and much backslapping and embracing. Mr. Collins frowned, irritation clearly stamped on his face.

  “Mr. Bennet, why did you not tell me?” Mrs. Bennet wailed.

  “He only proposed an hour ago, Mrs. Bennet,” came the dry response.

  “As I was saying,” Mr. Collins all but shouted to regain his audience, “Mrs. Bennet hinted she felt there was a prior attachment in Miss Bennet’s case. Since she knew of none for my cousin Miss Elizabeth, who I see is as lovely as any man with the advantages of my connections in life could want, I feel sure we can come to an understanding. I look forward to the day I might bring her back to Rosings Park as my bride.” He gave the horrified Elizabeth a smirk which bordered on a leer.

  “Papa,” Elizabeth gasped at her father, unable to breathe.

  “Sir,” Mr. Bennet thundered in displeasure, “you are too presumptuous. Indeed, I find it very poor manners for you to speak of my daughter as if she were your betrothed before you have even spoken to her, much less addressed me as her father. If you had approached me, as any gentleman would, I would have informed you that Elizabeth was not free of attachment, as only this afternoon I granted another fine young gentleman the privilege of courting her.”

  All attention now swung to Elizabeth, who felt ready to swoon in relief. She sent a grateful glance to Mr. Darcy, who gave her a slight bow in response. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed as her mind began to process what her eyes and ears were telling her.

  “Do you understand who I am, sir?” Mr. Collins demanded. “I am the parson to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. My connections would raise your family’s poor credit in ways you do not seem to comprehend.”

  “Mr. Collins,” ice dripped from Mr. Darcy’s voice, “Do you understand who I am? I am the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam swallowed what sounded like a guffaw and winked at Darcy.

  “Mr. Darcy!” Mr. Collins exclaimed. He stared at his adversary for a moment, before allowing his lip to curl. “You cannot court my cousin, sir, for I have it on the highest authority that you are to marry Miss Anne de Bourgh.” He sneered triumphantly.

  Elizabeth held herself in her seat only through sheer will. Her mind screamed at her to ignore the man. Mr. Darcy was a man of honor. He would not play her false. She sat straight and gave Mr. Darcy a calm look, letting him know she had faith in him. He would never know how hard that small gesture was to make.

  A harsh laugh erupted from the colonel. He shook his head in disgust.

  “Is she still telling that tale? Darcy, I thought you ended that nonsense.”

  “I thought I did,” Darcy murmured. A haughty look slid over his face. Elizabeth now recognized it as nothing more than a mask. It was still intimidating, though. “I can assure you, sir, I have never, nor will I ever be, engaged to my cousin. My aunt wants the match to keep both estates in the family. Neither Anne nor I agree, as we would make each other miserable. I have informed my aunt of this. Several times. I would ask that you, if you are a gentleman, do not spread that rumor any further.”

  Tight-lipped, Mr. Collins looked at his three remaining cousins. Mr. Bennet frowned. It seemed he was finally taking his role as a father seriously. His disgust at having Mr. Collins as a suitor for any of his daughters was clear.

  “Mr. Collins, none of my daughters are suitable for your bride. You may tell your patroness you did your duty and will inherit the estate someday without regret. I think it would be better if you returned to Longbourn and collected your belongings. You, I am sure, would find it an uncomfortable place to remain. I bid you good day.”

  Gaping like a fish, Mr. Collins seemed to fail to understand that he was being politely thrown out. When he realized Mr. Bennet was serious, he flushed angrily, then stomped to the door. Mr. Bingley discreetly had a carriage brought around for him and instructed the footman to remain until Mr. Collins had left the Bennet’s premises altogether.

  Chapter Twelve

  As soon as the women were alone in the drawing room, Lydia flounced down beside Elizabeth, fanning herself dramatically and rolling her eyes.

  “La! What a bore our cousin is! I was so happy that he wanted to marry you instead of me.” She laughed gaily, ignoring her sister’s pointed glare. “But it seems you won’t be marrying him either. Though I’m not sure Mr. Darcy is much of an improvement. He’s so serious!”

  “Lydia, hush!” Elizabeth hissed, mindful of Georgiana sitting on her other side.

  “Well, he is. Don’t look at me that way Lizzy. I know you disliked him after he insulted you at Lucas Lodge.”

  Was she forever to be reminded of that first night when Darcy didn’t wish to dance with her? Now that he had explained why he was in such a foul mood the night they met, she thought being called “tolerable” looking was unimportant. Especially remembering his deep voice telling her how lovely she was when they were in the library together.

  Georgiana gasped. “Elizabeth, William didn’t insult you, did he? He admires you so much!”

  William. She liked that name. Fitzwilliam Darcy was such an intimidating name. William was much warmer. Elizabeth patted Georgiana on the hand. “Don’t worry dear. It was all a misunderstanding. We have already talked about that night. It needn’t concern you.”

  Lydia tossed her head. “I heard Mr. Darcy is known for his cruelty.”

  Elizabeth turned towards her, anger churning in her belly. “Lydia Bennet, how dare you spread malicious rumors about an honorable gentleman such as Mr. Darcy! He is the best man I know, and I won’t hear you slander him.”

  “It’s not slander, Lizzy.” Lydia pouted. “I heard from a man who had experienced Mr. Darcy’s cruel nature himself. Why, poor Mr. Wickham was denied a living just because Mr. Darcy was jealous that old Mr. Darcy liked him better than his own son. ”

  A gasp exploded from Georgiana. Her complexion was ashen as she stared at Lydia with tortured eyes. Bursting into wild sobs, Georgiana fled the room. Her footsteps echoed on the stairs, and a moment later Elizabeth heard her bedroom door close.

  Enraged,
Elizabeth whirled back to her smirking sister. The smirk slid from Lydia’s face when Elizabeth grabbed her arm and held it in a vise-like grip. “You listen to me Lydia and heed me! If I ever hear you telling nasty tales about Mr. Darcy again, if I ever hear it hinted that you were spreading these lies, I will make sure Papa locks you in the house and bans you from all entertainment until you turn eighteen. You never should have been allowed out in company. You are such a wild girl.”

  “Mama!” Lydia shrieked, jumping up and storming out. No doubt she would have to deal with her mother complaining about her harsh treatment of her baby sister. At the moment, all Elizabeth cared about was finding her father. She set off for the library at a brisk pace. Inside she located her father, Mr. Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam involved in an energetic discussion of the war and strategy. The conversation broke off, and the men all stood as she entered. Their brows rose in surprise when she firmly closed the door behind herself.

  “Father. Mr. Darcy. I am so glad I have found you. I have just heard the most disturbing news from Lydia. She reported that an officer in town is spreading vicious stories about you, Mr. Darcy. I don’t believe any of what the officer is saying, of course. As if you would deny a man his rightful living. The very idea! I was angry, but poor Georgiana. She was so distraught that she fled the room in tears. She went to her room. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Wickham,” Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam spat together.

  “Yes!” Elizabeth put a hand over her mouth. “That was the name she said. It was a Mr. Wickham.”

  Darcy strode to the door and stepped out into the hall. He asked a passing servant to fetch Miss Darcy and have her come to the library. When Georgiana entered a few minutes later, Elizabeth bit back an exclamation. Her friend was pale and appeared deflated.

  “Georgie,” Mr. Darcy entreated her tenderly, “Dear one, I am so sorry you were upset. But I think it is time we let our friends know part of our history with George Wickham. You can understand why, can you not?”