The Inseparable Mr. and Mrs. Darcy

by Jennifer Joy

  “He was. Many gentlemen were there,” Father answered.

  “As was I,” William said, adding, “It was a hunting party I will not soon forget.”

  Father chuckled. “Nor I, Mr. Darcy. Had I known Mr. Collins to be so inept with a firearm, I would have taken it away from him before Mr. Bilford did.”

  “Mr. Bilford was there?” Elizabeth asked, more surprised at the knowledge of his presence than Mr. Collins’ lack of skills with a flintlock rifle.

  “He was at Lucas Lodge, seeking the counsel of Sir William’s steward. They, of course, did not join our party, but they remained nearby should we require their assistance. As it turned out, we did.” Turning to William, Father added with a grin, “I do hope Mr. Collins replaced Mr. Hurst’s beaver hat.”

  Elizabeth’s jaw gaped. “Mr. Collins shot Mr. Hurst?”

  “Not Mr. Hurst, dear girl. Mr. Hurst’s hat. There is a significant difference between the two. It was the kind of shot only the best marksman could have made … or, as is the case with my cousin, the blunderingly fortuitous.”

  William narrowed his eyes. “As I recall, Mr. Bennet, you left fairly suddenly after Bingley served refreshments in the billiard room.”

  Father sighed. “I felt unwell. Much as I did yesterday. My insides twisted painfully, sweat covered my chilled skin, and my heartbeat became so fast, I thought it would run out of my chest.”

  That had also been the day he expected a new book sent to him by an old colleague in the post. And were not the symptoms he described the very same Mother had suffered and described in detail numerous times over the years when she had a nervous spell?

  Shaking her mounting belief regarding the true nature of his suspicions off, she asked, “I heard Mr. Bilford arguing with you this morning, Papa. Do you suspect him?” Elizabeth’s list of potential criminals shortened, if indeed, Father’s suspicions merited further investigation. There would have been no women at Sir William’s hunt, thus excluding all members of the fairer sex.

  Father nodded his head slowly. “While he was not present at the wedding feast, he has often been in my study. I poured myself a glass of brandy before we departed for the ceremony. Perhaps I should empty the decanter.”

  William pondered Father’s fears. Unless Father had better evidence than what he had presented, his concern sounded more fanciful than real — most certainly the work of a clever man unwilling to allow any more change in his life than necessary. Both she and William were well aware of the physical signs of poisoning when Mr. Collins nearly fell victim to tainted cake. Father exhibited few of those symptoms. When William finally looked at her, she was certain she read the same in his expression.

  “Is there any reason why someone would want to harm you?” asked William, his eyes never wavering from Father.

  “I am not a rich man. My estate has been neglected too much to conjure envy. I do not possess any secrets to my knowledge, nor have I ever induced the wrath of the desperate matrons of unmarried daughters by pushing my girls into the fore. I can think of no one who would benefit from my demise.”

  It appeared more and more certain to Elizabeth that the “enemy” Father had spoken of was nothing more than his impending loneliness, filling her with anger and sadness for the man who had sworn not to act selfishly toward his daughters. Was she to be the exception?

  “What about Mr. Collins? He will inherit at your death,” suggested William.

  Father scoffed. “You saw how he shot. He could not hit the broadside of a barn with a musket at spitting distance. If he tried to slip arsenic into my drink, I would not put it past him to confuse the glasses and drink it himself. No, he lacks the calculating intelligence required to bring an evil plan to fruition nor is his situation so desperate as to benefit from inheriting my estate.”

  Elizabeth agreed with Father’s estimation of Mr. Collins’ abilities, but the clergyman’s lack of motive was more convincing. Father had no enemies … and he knew it. “Mr. Collins has a comfortable living with a generous patroness guaranteed to him at Hunsford aside from the eventual inheritance of Longbourn — and, as Father said, the estate is in need of care. Care which would be better for Mr. Collins that Father attend to rather than himself.”

  “What of Mr. Bilford and Mr. Hurst?” William asked, thoroughly covering all possibilities implied by Father.

  “Mr. Bilford is unaccustomed to my interference in estate matters. We are bound to have some difficulties until we learn how to work together. As for Mr. Hurst … I have no insights to share other than to note his appreciation of a good, midday nap.”

  “Is there anything else which has led you to believe yourself in danger?” asked Darcy.

  Father considered the question for a good deal of time. Was he scheming another plan, the present one not proving as effective as he had hoped?

  Finally, he answered, “I do not. And now that I have spoken of my concerns aloud, I see how ridiculous I must sound to you. I am merely suffering a moment of weakness and apologize for wasting your time when I am certain you have many other delightful topics to discuss with my daughter.”

  William shook his head. “No, Mr. Bennet, please do not apologize. Meryton has suffered more than its fair share of misfortune, but the worst is behind us. Otherwise, I never would have written for my sister to join me here.”

  Father’s disposition was remarkably cheerful as he asked, “When is she to arrive? Have you arranged lodgings already?”

  “She is to arrive on the morrow and I must find other arrangements for her lodgings. I do not wish to take up all of Tanner’s rooms when he needs them for his guests and, after what you have told me, I do not wish for her to stay at Netherfield Park.”

  Elizabeth wondered what had transpired between William and Mr. Tanner. She doubted it was out of consideration William had decided to make other arrangements for his sister.

  “I hope I am wrong about Mr. Hurst. It is difficult to trust a man who sleeps as much as he does,” nodded Mr. Bennet, his face brightening as he caught an idea. “I have just the thing! It is the perfect solution for all of us.”

  Elizabeth knew what he would say before he voiced it, and she thought it a terrible idea.

  Chapter 6

  “Please allow us the honor of receiving Miss Darcy as a guest at Longbourn. You need somewhere agreeable for her to reside, and what could be more agreeable than the home of your betrothed? She and Lizzy shall have ample opportunity to become the closest of friends here, and I shall delight in the extra sounds and movement the addition to our household shall provide. I take it she has a companion as well?” Mr. Bennet asked eagerly.

  Darcy glanced at Elizabeth. She tried to hide her uncertainty behind a smile. Was she as nervous to meet Georgiana as Tanner was? Be that the case, Mr. Bennet’s solution was truly perfect. “Yes. Mrs. Annesley is her companion,” he said with a reassuring glance at Elizabeth.

  Father clasped his hands together. “Excellent! You simply must allow us to extend our hospitality to your dear sister, Mr. Darcy.”

  "It is a relief to me, Mr. Bennet, and I accept your offer on behalf of my sister gladly. Thank you."

  Elizabeth did not appear so pleased, which puzzled Darcy. She looked down at her lap and twisted her fingers.

  "What about Mr. Collins? He is to come to Longbourn today, is he not?" she asked.

  If that was Elizabeth’s only objection, she need not trouble herself over it. Mr. Collins conformed too rigidly to social norms to be of any danger to Georgiana.

  Mr. Bennet blinked in confusion. "I expect him to arrive at any inopportune moment. I do not see him as a hindrance, my dear. In fact, it may very well be to our benefit to have the niece of his esteemed patroness under our roof. He will be on his best behavior."

  Darcy agreed. "Mr. Collins is too aware of his position to make himself a nuisance to Georgiana, and Mrs. Annesley will ensure he does not."

  Mr. Bennet rubbed his hands together. "What an opportunity for Lydia. She will see first-hand
how a young lady ought to behave under the direction of a good companion."

  That was the only fly in the ointment for Darcy. Miss Lydia and Georgiana would have absolutely nothing in common, nor did Darcy wish for them to spend enough time in each other’s company to find a similar interest.

  Now that Mr. Bennet’s suspicions had been addressed and declared as harmless coincidence and arrangements had been made for Georgiana to stay with Elizabeth, it was time to see how serious Mr. Bennet was about giving his consent for Elizabeth to marry. Despite his vow to unselfishly put his daughter’s interests first, Mr. Bennet had proved to have more difficulty living up to his claims where Elizabeth was concerned. Otherwise, they most certainly would have married by now.

  A knock on the drawing room door prevented Darcy from inquiring what he most wished to know.

  Mr. Hill said, "Mr. Collins is here, sir. Shall I have him shown to his room?"

  Mr. Bennet grinned at Darcy, recalling his “inopportune moment” comment to mind. Darcy would not disagree with him. Mr. Collins had horrendous timing, even if he was impeccable in his attention to the clock.

  Mr. Bennet rose to receive the clergyman, who sneaked past Mr. Hill before he could persuade Mr. Collins to freshen up in his room. Grasping the back of his chair, Mr. Bennet leaned on it for support and closed his eyes.

  "Father?" asked Elizabeth.

  Taking off his spectacles, he opened his eyes and dismissed her concern with a wave. "I daresay I only require a new pair of spectacles, Lizzy. A dizzy spell is nothing to worry yourself over."

  Mr. Collins, who bowed before Darcy in such a way as to block his progress to assist Mr. Bennet, spun around. "Is my cousin unwell?"

  Before he could listen to any reply, Mr. Collins continued, "How fortunate I am to accompany you for a time. You have suffered enough to break a weaker man, Mr. Bennet. Your endurance under tribulation is admirable and a testament to our family’s strength of character. I vow to help alleviate your unease to the best of my abilities by offering what little encouragement and support as I am capable of extending in my humble capacity. I shall not depart from your side." He emphasized his words with yet another bow.

  Elizabeth bit her lips, but Darcy stood close enough to her to hear her choked chuckle. Darcy, too, struggled to maintain his dispassionate expression at the look of horror covering Mr. Bennet’s face.

  The older gentleman mumbled, "I suppose it is what I deserve." He motioned for Mr. Collins to take a seat.

  Mr. Collins sat beside Mr. Bennet, pulling his chair closer to his cousin in a display of the sincerity of his promise. "Absolutely. You deserve the best care, and I shall see you are not neglected. Not for a moment."

  Elizabeth turned her face away from their group to ask for more tea to be brought in for their new guest. Mr. Hill, who had observed the exchange in its entirety from the doorway, admirably kept his composure while Elizabeth struggled to control hers.

  As for Darcy, though he be the master of the expressionless face, he knew he could not hide his humor completely. And he knew Elizabeth would be unable to contain her merriment should their eyes meet. She had learned to read him with greater accuracy — a feat for which he was grateful, as she was less likely to take offense when he uttered what he ought not to have said. Hmm. Darcy was not so different to Mr. Bennet in that regard. Both of them sought to improve their characters, and still fell short at times. If only there were not so many vexing people in the world….

  Clearing his throat, Darcy changed the subject away from Mr. Bennet's health and the superior care Mr. Collins could offer him to one infinitely more agreeable to the clergyman. Under normal circumstances, Darcy would have kept silent, (for silence was impossible to misquote) but he felt generous. "I recently received a letter from Lady Catherine."

  Elizabeth reached through her tendrils of hair to rub her ear. Did her ears tingle at the mention of their old adversary?

  If Anne’s letters were any indication, Aunt Catherine was too distracted with her own affairs to give much attention to his. Darcy was happy for Anne’s sake … and for his.

  More for Elizabeth’s benefit than anyone else’s, he added, "Lady Catherine says that while she does not approve of the methods employed by the good doctor, my cousin's health does seem to have improved in short time." Darcy gave them that happy news, leaving out all the faults Aunt Catherine had found in Dr. Hammond, namely, his youth and unnatural good looks (for surely no experienced doctor could possess both and be worth his salt), the strange lodgings where Anne was obliged to stay as well as her changed diet and regimen of exercise…. Those complaints paled in comparison to his most unforgivable sin: that of being Lord Harvisham’s son (Lord Harvisham being the man formerly jilted by Lady Catherine and sworn enemy of said lady for daring to inherit the title she sought and the fortune to match it after she had humiliated him in public).

  There was much for Aunt to complain about, all of which he would share with Elizabeth later. She would find as much humor in it as he had.

  Missing from Aunt’s letter, so obvious as to have been omitted deliberately by her, was any mention of Elizabeth.

  After sharing what news he could in the presence of Mr. Collins, it was time to depart and Darcy did so reluctantly. Even with Mr. Collins, the atmosphere was more relaxed and content at Longbourn. Much better than the tension awaiting him at Tanner's inn. Even with Tanner’s surly mood, Darcy refused to leave him. Tanner would simply have to put up with him until he left for Pemberley.

  Mr. Bennet saw him to the door. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I will be delighted to receive Miss Darcy here. Lizzy will make sure she is comfortable."

  "And I thank you. My greatest wish is that they become close friends."

  "I am certain they shall." Mr. Bennet shuffled his weight, glancing behind him and lowering his voice. "There is another matter which I would like very much to discuss with you. As you are aware, I had an altercation with Mr. Bilford this morning. I found an inconsistency, and I am unsure what to make of it. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask for your opinion?"

  "What did your land steward say?"

  Mr. Bennet bunched his cheeks up. "He appears to be the issue. However, before I put him to task for what I speculate, I want to make certain I understand the matter completely. My mind has taken a suspicious turn of late, and I do not trust myself fully."

  "I see." If Mr. Bennet's land steward was not trustworthy, Mr. Bennet had some difficult decisions ahead. Decisions which would need made quickly and with certainty. "I am at your disposal, Mr. Bennet," Darcy said with a bow.

  With a sigh of relief, Mr. Bennet squeezed Darcy's shoulder. "Thank you. I will call at the inn on the morrow before Mr. Collins wakes and while Lizzy is enjoying one of her walks. I do not want to concern her, nor do I wish for Mr. Collins to accompany me."

  "That suits me well.” It would, in fact, be a welcome reprieve from the mundane business and endless letter writing awaiting him in his room.

  With a final bow of departure, Darcy took the reins from the stable boy and glanced at the stables. The roof had recently been repaired and the carriage horses neighed from behind the building where they grazed in their paddock.

  There was a pretty, little filly at the Meryton stables. Darcy had never asked Elizabeth why she preferred walking to riding, but he was not averse to giving her lessons if need be. A splendid idea if ever there was one.

  Turning down the lane toward Meryton, Darcy saw a rider as wide as his horse approaching.

  With little more than a nod and a grunt, Mr. Hurst passed Darcy on the lane. Apparently, the gentleman was as pleased to see Darcy as Darcy was to see him. It was curious, though. Continuing down the lane a few paces, Darcy turned in his saddle long enough to see Mr. Hurst disappear down the path to Longbourn.

  What business did Mr. Hurst have with Mr. Bennet? From their conversation minutes ago, he knew Mr. Bennet would never seek out Mr. Hurst’s company.

  Darcy had assumed the Hursts' return t
o Netherfield Park had been for the benefit of Miss Bingley, who thanks to Aunt Catherine, was now unwelcome in society. With the season fast approaching, it would be a bitter tonic to swallow for Miss Bingley to be excluded completely. He had not thought to ask Bingley — if Bingley knew anything, that was. It was possible his trusting friend had accepted his sister and her husband into his home with no questions asked as he was wont to do.

  Darcy continued down the lane, pressing his heels against his horse to quicken his pace. He had a great deal of correspondence to deal with and Mr. Bennet’s call on the morrow promised to be eventful. Mr. Hurst would not be pleased to see Mr. Collins, though the rotund gentleman sported a shiny, new beaver hat (courtesy of the clergyman, no doubt). Darcy was equally confident Mr. Collins would tenaciously sustain his unwanted presence despite Mr. Hurst’s efforts to rid himself of the man.

  With a sigh, Darcy continued down the lane. He had only just left Longbourn and already he had much to discuss with Elizabeth.

  Why did she not look pleased to receive his sister?

  What merit did she give her father’s concerns? Did she feel as he did that they were enjoying a brief calm before the storm broke over them?

  Would Elizabeth enjoy the gift of a horse?

  If Mr. Bennet gave his consent, would she marry him on the morrow?

  Chapter 7

  Mr. Bennet arrived the following morning with a ledger in his arms, and Darcy received him in the privacy of his room. He asked if Mr. Bennet wished for some refreshment.

  "Does Mr. Tanner make good, strong coffee?" asked Mr. Bennet, to which Darcy asked Mrs. Molly to bring up two steaming cups of the brew.

  Mr. Bennet sat, shaking his head. "For years, Mrs. Hill has made my tea and coffee just as I like it. However, today, I had to pour her coffee into the potted plants," he said with a chuckle. "Hopefully the fern in my study takes to the bitter beverage more than I did. It was dreadful."