by Nicky Roth
And there now was their host himself, hurrying down the stairs to welcome his guests, his face all cheerful and inviting and his blue eyes sparkling with delight making his choice of wearing a blue coat a very sensible one as it complemented his eyes perfectly. With a rather strained smile, Elizabeth lowered her eyes to hide her own silly disappointment.
'It is so good of you to come, after... - Well, you know. And while I know that it is a bit unusual for a man to host a dinner all on his own, I hope you will forgive me if I have made the one or other mistake,' he smiled while eagerly opening the carriage door before Tom was able to even jump from the box. 'Though my housekeeper and cook did their best to advise me and in all the years they have been with my family I could always rely on them.'
'Oh, good servants are always a blessing indeed, Mr Bingley,' their mother cried out taking Bingley's outstretched hand. 'I always say so and have always been proven right. One has to treat one's servants well and they will pay you back in kind. No servant can be relied upon who is not happy in his position and who takes no pride in his work.'
'Very true, Mrs Bennet. Miss Bennet....' Bingley muttered, though his attention had obviously turned to other things.
His smile had broadened when his eyes had fallen upon Jane and eagerly he stretched out his hand again to help her out of the chaise likewise.
If they had followed protocol, Elizabeth as the second oldest, would have been next, but as it was, she had opted to sit in the very corner of their coach and so it was not until Mary, Kitty, Lydia and their father had alighted, with some laughter and giggling regarding her two youngest sisters, that she braced herself and, at last, got up reaching for the hand that had been extended for her, though her eyes were still firmly fixed on the ground so she would not stumble. - Or rather to be able to compose her face and hide her sadness.
There had been the tiniest flicker of hope that Mr Darcy would be there, but now it was quenched. He was not. She had obviously been mistaken in regards to Mr Bingley's other sister as well, so perhaps the man himself had purchased another coach for himself, possibly in preparation of his own wedding as assumptive as that might be. But he did seem to like Jane very much and she, in turn, him, so it was not all that far fetched if one thought about it.
'Thank you,' she all but whispered.
Why all of a sudden her hair stood on end and she felt as if she was being closely watched Elizabeth was not certain of. That was until the moment the man beside her spoke.
'It is a pleasure, Miss Elizabeth.'
In surprise, her head shot up to come face to face with none other than Mr Darcy.
'I have to apologise, to not have been here when you arrived, but I have only just arrived myself...' he trailed off with a warm smile.
Blushing furiously, Elizabeth did not quite know what to reply and instead she gave a shaky curtsy. As William, in his shabby work clothes, he had already looked very handsome, but in his regular, well-cut attire he was nothing short of breathtaking. At least in her eyes. And not when he smiled like this.
'Are you quite well?' he asked with some concern in his voice.
Gone was the thick Derbyshire accent replaced by the usual sophisticated English of the aristocracy. It kind of seemed wrong. This was not the man he really was but whom he had to be.
'Yes, perfectly so, Mr Darcy,' Elizabeth finally managed to reply, but slowly recovering from her shock. 'And how are you yourself?'
'Quite well, too. I have had a busy week as you can imagine. There was a lot of business to attend to and I am just now looking for a companion for my sister so she can return back home. - She is not very happy at school and I am afraid I should have taken care of her happiness much sooner. By the way, I have to admit that I miss raking the lawn and only this morning I have puzzled my scullery maid when she found me making myself a cup of tea,' he replied wryly making her laugh.
No, he still was good old William, just the polished up form of him. The gentleman version, if one liked to call it that.
'You know, your little friend has been missing you quite desperately.'
'And how is little Prickler?'
'Sad, but healthy.'
'And getting quite chubby from all the treats my Lizzy tries to cheer him up with,' her father threw in, interrupting their tête-à-tête.
The sly smirk on her father's face was quite telling. Mr Bennet had known all along that Mr Darcy would be there. Of course, he had. It was just like him to keep it a secret and see her surprised.
'I have brought your horse back with me, Sir,' Darcy bowed towards Mr Bennet. 'It is a very fine animal to ride.'
'It is indeed, and I make use of it far too rarely, but as it is, I am the happiest in my bookroom and not on horseback. Those days are over. - But I see the others are getting impatient to get inside, especially Lydia appears to be quite hungry. Not surprising if one considers that during lunch her mouth hardly stood still and not because she was eating.'
'Papa!'
'Oh, but it surely has to do with the fact that the next ball at the Assembly Hall is but two weeks away and she has nothing fit to wear...' Mr Bennet continued matter of factly, though not without a hint of sarcasm.
'As far as I am aware there are very few young ladies who ever have anything fit to wear,' Darcy interjected dryly, offering Elizabeth his arm. 'But as long as that is their only worry, I would say we can consider their lives to be in perfect order and ours as well.'
'Very well said, Mr Darcy. I cannot but agree,' her father replied cheerfully before hurrying to take his impatiently waiting wife's arm.
Chapter 50
It's easy to impress me. I don't need a fancy party to be happy. Just good friends, good food, and good laughs. I'm happy. I'm satisfied. I'm content.
- Maria Sharapova
This dinner was decidedly more pleasant than the last one, quite lovely actually and not at all formal. It was more as if a couple of old friends had come together to eat and not still almost strangers. And while at first Elizabeth had been a bit timid, not at all certain how to act around Mr Darcy, his easy manners and cheerful conversation, the occasional joke and chuckle, quickly put her at ease and besides, he was sitting right next to her.
With Miss Bingley absent, Mr Bingley had decided that no formal seating was required and so their former “under-gardener” had found his place by her side quite naturally, just as naturally as Jane was smilingly sitting next to Mr Bingley. It was this one simple fact that made her heart beat just a little faster: Mr Darcy had come to her side!
'Would you like some more ragout?' Mr Darcy inquired courteously, his hand already reaching out for the dish before them.
'I thank you, but I would rather have some of the roast beef,' she answered truthfully pointing at the platter a little down the table.
Ragout, as lovely as it might be, was not much to her taste. She preferred less flavoured food and the joint of beef looked very delicious indeed, neither too dry nor bloody.
'With pleasure, Miss Elizabeth,' he replied smiling, indicating to the footman to pass over the platter.
'Thank you, Smith. - Would you rather have an end piece or a slice from the middle?'
'Hm, what a difficult question...' Elizabeth smiled back at him, colouring slightly over her indecisiveness. 'I like both.'
'Then that is settled,' the man beside her grinned before putting two slices onto her plate.
'Now really, Lizzy, you will never eat that much meat!' her mother scolded from across the table.
'Oh, but she can take some home with her and give it to her little friend,' Mr Bennet threw in. 'As we have already established, he is getting quite chubby anyway. I have a sneaking suspicion that we might have a little surprise someday soon.'
'What do you mean, Sir?' Darcy inquired eagerly and at the same time with a hint of worry in his concern for his little friend.
'Oh, nothing in particular. It was just a silly thought. - So, how have you been faring without needing to rake the driveway?'<
br />
'Who said I didn't?'
The good humour in Fitzwilliam Darcy's tone of voice was unmistakable and for a short moment, his accent had crept back into his speech, making Elizabeth smile again while Mr Bennet chuckled and his wife did not quite know how to react. In all the years she had been married she still had some difficulty determining what was spoken in earnest or, as in this case, not.
'And I dare say your lawn is in perfect order, too?' her father carried on with a smirk.
'Very much so, though my garden is decidedly lacking in hedgehogs.'
'Is it? I never would have thought so. Shame, everyone should have at least one, do you not agree?'
'You are quite right, Sir. A garden is most lacking without hedgehogs.'
'I am sorry to be so bold, Mr Darcy, but what made you come to Hertfordshire and work as our gardener,' Mary all of a sudden interjected, and by their mother's reaction it was obvious that she too had been wondering yet for once in her life had been too awkward to ask herself.
'That is very easily explained, Miss Mary. I was in search of happiness and that is best found with starting to appreciate the simple things in life. So, consequently I turned my back on, well myself, and for a few short weeks decided to work with my own two hands.'
He glanced down at his still much-calloused hands, his nails still in a rather shocking state for a gentleman. But there was pride in his smile and perfect contentment that lit up his eyes.
'And did it work?' Lydia chimed up.
'Very decidedly,' Bingley now threw in. 'He was a miserable right old sod when he left London, let me tell you.'
'And that was nicely put,' Darcy admitted wryly, pouring some more wine for Elizabeth and himself.
'So you have found it then? Happiness, I mean,' Mary dug deeper.
'I have found peace of mind. My time here has made me see that while society is all nice and well and in a sense important, once in a while a man can afford to be a little... - let's say eccentric. And why not? Why should a man not do what he likes to do once in a while to compensate for those things he has to do whether he likes it or not all owing to the station in which he happened to have been born into through no choice of his own?'
'Those are definitely words of wisdom, Mr Darcy,' Mr Bennet sighed theatrically, his eyes flickering over to his wife before, with a surprisingly heartfelt gesture he reached for her hand and kissed it. 'Do you not agree, my Dear?'
Mrs Bennet, in her astonishment, was rendered speechless, but at long last gave a small nod, her cheeks flushed most charmingly.
'So, you like working in the garden then, I presume?' Elizabeth continued the conversation seeing that her two youngest sisters had started to giggle quite violently at their parents' rare display of affection.
'I do indeed. Not that I knew I did when I left, for I had never tried it before. But now, I have to admit that I am already pondering on how to improve my garden down in London for a start, seeing that it is nice and small. - Well, it is small.'
For a long while longer the conversation continued thus, gradually getting more and more comfortable. That was until the topic turned towards Mr Darcy travelling to Derbyshire in a short while, right after he had found a suitable companion for his sister. It was a stark reminder to Elizabeth that while he was here now to return her father's horse and pay his friend a short visit, he was not here to stay.
Suddenly she felt quite wretched again. It was all nice and well to follow one's heart, but what if it was bound to be broken? When nothing was certain?
She was startled out of her melancholy reverie by the sound of his voice softly inquiring: 'Are you quite well, Miss Elizabeth? You do look pale all of a sudden. Is something the matter?'
'Yes, I am quite well Mr Darcy, thank you.'
Elizabeth was well aware that her voice sounded anything but convincing.
'Are you certain?' Mr Darcy dug deeper, looking intently at her, so much so that she had to cast her eyes down for fear of drowning in his concerned gaze.
'Yes. It is only that I barely drink any wine...'
Admittedly her excuse was as stupid as it was improper, but unable to think of something better it would have to suffice.
'Would a breath of fresh air help?' Darcy offered. 'I would be happy to escort you; and perhaps one of your younger sisters could accompany us?'
Chapter 51
When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.
- Marcus Aurelius
As always of late, Fitzwilliam Darcy woke up early. So early that as yet there was little hope for a cup of tea let alone some breakfast unless he sat down to partake with the servants. However, that was no longer an option, and most certainly not here at Netherfield where he had to consider his friend.
It was already odd enough that they had something to talk about how he had worked as a gardener and as a rather mediocre footman, but alas, it did not appear to have at all damaged his reputation with them and he was still treated with the same respect as he always had been. Just as he had said the night before, a man of his station was allowed a certain amount of eccentricity and in comparison to Lord Byron and his lot, dressing up as a servant and disappearing from the face of the earth for a few short weeks was nothing that would result in anything more than the occasional smirk and rise of an eyebrow, if even that.
Last evening had been delightful to say the least, and he was still surprised how easily they had all managed to sit together and comfortably converse as if the whole situation was not somewhat odd. But as lovely as the dinner had been, the highlight of the evening had been his little walk with Miss Elizabeth, strolling through the overgrown grounds of Netherfield Park accompanied by Miss Mary, who discreetly trailed behind. It was not that they had said all that much, but if he was any judge of it, their silence had been a companionable one. Yet, he could tell that something had been on Miss Elizabeth's mind, something that had caused her sorrow, and if only he knew what it was, he would do anything to make her smile and her eyes sparkle again. But he knew not and so all he could do for the time being was to cherish this one short moment in time.
Unable to stay indoors any longer and with Brutus, who had been sleeping on the rug in front of his bed, in apparent need to go outside, Darcy stopped pondering and instead got dressed to take a little walk before breakfast.
It was quite natural that his steps led him towards the direction of Longbourn and before long, he spotted a familiar creature sitting on a stile. Not the very one where he had first met her, but another one sheltered by an old oak tree making her look almost like a fairy in the early light of day that glistened through the lush green leaves softly moving in the light breeze of late April. Whether he was surprised or not at seeing her, he could not say, and yet he could have stood there watching her for hours if he was honest with himself. But Brutus had other ideas as he slowly trotted towards Elizabeth with some curiosity before his master had even realised what he was up to.
'And who are you?' he heard her say as the dog approached her with a wagging tail. 'Have you gotten lost?'
Reaching out she scratched his trusted friend's ears and the wagging got more animated. Truth be told, Darcy quite envied his dog at this very moment. Watching on for a moment longer at last Darcy moved towards the two of them.
'Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. How are you this morning?'
'Mr Darcy!'
And now he had startled her! Clearly surprised she almost jumped from her perch, startling Brutus in turn. With something akin to confusion the dog glanced from one to the other before deciding that he was quite happy where he was, especially since her hand was still resting atop his head. Well, Darcy could understand his friend all too well. He could not hold it against him that he chose Miss Elizabeth over his master. He would do, too, given the choice.
'I... - I am well, thank you,' she stammered after a few speechless moments, regaining some of her composure.
; Had she been crying? It certainly looked like it. Something was amiss and he was almost certain now that her excuse from last night had been just that, an excuse. Taking out his handkerchief he handed it to her with a challengingly raised eyebrow which was bound to tell her that he did not believe her.
'It is just... - I do not know. It is just that... - I feel so sorry for poor little Prickler. He is still looking for you, you know? And I am but a poor substitute for your company.'
