by Leenie Brown
“Are you well?” she asked in response to the groan he uttered.
“I am.” He stretched out his injured leg but kept his other leg bent. “An injury does not excuse my lack of patience.”
She shrugged. “It is not an excuse. It is a reason. There is a difference, Mr. Darcy. One attempts to brush something away as if it should be overlooked completely while the other is given in hopes of making a situation or action understandable. I should have considered your injury when proffering my advice –”
“Which was sound, by the way,” Darcy inserted. “I nearly lost my boot.”
“Could we begin again? Neither of us showed ourselves to best advantage.”
He shook his head, and Elizabeth’s heart clenched at the thought of their not being able to reconcile the ill behaviour displayed at their last meeting.
“I would prefer,” he said, “to continue as we have been, for I would have you know that I can be dour and disapproving at times. It is a fault I willingly own, and I do not wish to present myself to you as anything that I am not.” He removed his hat and placed it on the ground next to him. “I would rather begin by knowing you are an intelligent lady who is not put off by my occasional fits of spleen. I think whatever relationship we might foster will be better for the transparency. It is one of the things I despise about the season – there are so few who are what they appear.”
Relief that he was not going to send her on her way but would rather be friends spread across Elizabeth’s face. “You may come to regret such a request,” she teased. “I can assure you that I have many faults of temper, and one of them is my insistence that I know the best way to do things, and another is my tendency to express my annoyance when others do not immediately agree.”
Darcy chuckled. “We are much alike then. Am I forgiven?”
She nodded. “Am I?”
“Without a moment’s hesitation,” he replied. He shifted so that he could see her more fully as she sat beside him.
Oh, he was handsome! From where she had seen him on his horse on their first meeting and then on the ground in the woods, she had thought him very attractive, but now that he was here, so close to her with his hat removed and looking very relaxed, he was even more appealing.
“I understand Mr. Bingley told you somewhat about Mr. Wickham.”
“Yes, he did,” she said, pulling her eyes away from the cut of his jawline and blushing.
“Is your brother a good friend of Mr. Wickham?”
Elizabeth shook her head and shrugged. “I do not believe he is. He had never mentioned him before I questioned him about his opinion of you. Indeed, he did not mention his name even then. I dare say, Mr. Wickham is no more than a passing acquaintance.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
His broad shoulders rose and lowered as he drew a deep breath and expelled it. “It was not entirely my injury that made me cross that day in the wood. I had just discovered that your brother knew Wickham.”
He shook his head and looked past her, a pained expression settling into his eyes. “Your brother asked me if I was betrothed but said he had not met any of my family. There was only one other person of whom I could think who would know such information.”
“Mr. Wickham?”
Darcy nodded. “He was a childhood friend.”
“What happened?” Her hand flew to cover her mouth. “I apologize. It is not my place to know.”
His smile was soft and reassuring. “I would like for you to know every last thing there is to know about me, and I would like to know the same about you if you are willing to be so open.”
Her lips parted of their own accord as her brow furrowed. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?
“Yes,” he replied to her unspoken question. “I think you and I would suit each other very well, and I would like to explore the possibility of our compatibility not just as friends but as future mates.”
For a full three deafening thuds of her heart, Elizabeth could not find anything more to say than “oh.”
“Would you be willing to consider me as more than a friend?”
After having only met twice – with one of those times being nothing more than an argument — he wished to court her? “Do you always make such hasty decisions, Mr. Darcy?
He chuckled. “No. I rarely do anything in haste. However, you and your enchanting eyes and smile have not given me a moment of peace since we met. I find I am as anxious to know about you as a man is for a drink of water in the desert. I cannot explain it. I just know that I must discover all I can about you.”
“You are certain you wish this?”
He nodded.
“I apologize for my hesitance, but I am not the sort of lady whom gentlemen trip over one another to call on.”
“Then, they are fools. Will you?”
She laughed. “Yes. I would consider it an honour to enter into such an arrangement.” She could feel the heat of embarrassment climbing onto her cheeks. “I must admit that I have found myself fascinated by you.”
“You have? How so?”
“You think deeply.”
“I do, but how do you know that?”
The surprise in his tone caused her to smile. “There is a small twitch of your eyes or lips and a pause before you speak. You looked very pensive on our first meeting.”
“Bingley said you were astute.”
How she wished that were always true, but she knew that she often leapt to conclusions and held to her beliefs about a person or situation to be true, even when they were not. In that way, she and William were alike, and she could see very clearly at this moment how that tendency was harmful. “I wish it were always true. I do attempt to decipher character, but I am not always correct.”
“No one is,” he replied. “I have made some grievous errors in that regard.” He plucked a blade of grass and ran it back and forth between his fingers. “I wish to tell you something, but I confess to being fearful.” He blew out a breath. “However, I have promised to reveal myself to you as fully as I can.”
“You do not have to tell me if it is painful.” How wrong her brother was about this gentleman! He was not cold or cruel. He might be irascible at times, but Mr. Darcy was not unfeeling.
“I feel I must, but before I do, I must beg you not to speak of this to anyone as doing so might harm someone who is very dear to me.”
Her heart clenched at the look on his face. What he was willing to tell her was excruciating, and she could not deny the honour of being so trusted. “Of course, I will not say a word.”
“Thank you,” he said with a small smile before finding some spot beyond her at which to look and proceeding to tear the blade of grass in his hands to shreds as he told her about his sister, Georgiana’s, narrow escape from a life of misery at the hands of Mr. Wickham.
“We, my cousin and I, were both mistaken in the character of Georgiana’s companion, Mrs. Younge. We had no idea that she was an associate of Wickham.” He sighed. “That is why I was so cross when I discovered your brother’s acquaintance with Wickham. I thought I had once again misjudged someone’s character, and I feared that if I were correct about your brother, it would mean never being able to know you. It was as if Wickham was attempting to tear yet another thing away from me. He claimed my father’s affections, nearly robbed me of my sister, and then, when I finally met a lady who captured my interest and, I feared, my heart, he was there again.”
Elizabeth brushed a tear from her cheek. “I do not know what to say,” she muttered.
He turned his attention back to her and immediately fished in his pocket for his handkerchief. “I did not mean to distress you.”
She shook her head. “You must not apologize for telling me about Mr. Wickham. If my brother knew, he would never give a word the man told him a second thought. I will not tell him,” she added quickly when she noted the look of concern in Darcy’s eyes. “I have given you my word. I am just assuring you that my brother would never be friends
with such a man.”
For a few moments, the sound of the breeze rustling dry leaves and a bird chirping were all that could be heard as they sat in companionable silence. It was strange to Elizabeth how right it seemed to be sitting here with him, bearing a small portion of his cares. She glanced at him. His head was tipped back slightly as he watched the clouds. She would not be opposed to being his wife. In fact, the thought was rather intoxicating, much like the small smile that curved his lips, for he seemed to be precisely the sort of gentleman who would best suit her. He willingly owned his faults, cared deeply for his sister, and had presented himself to her in a very direct fashion. All of those things spoke to a strength and nobility of character that made the idea of being married to him something to be sought happily without a moment’s pause to worry about her future happiness. With him, she just knew that she would be happy. She smiled and shook her head. It was just as he had said – it was a realization that defied understanding.
“My brother is not really my brother,” she said breaking the silence.
“I beg your pardon?” Darcy turned toward her.
“I do not have any grievous tales to share, but you should know that William is a distant cousin and heir to Longbourn, whose father died when he was ten, and he was sent to live with us. He has since become more of a brother than a cousin. In fact, he and I have been good friends nearly from his arrival.”
“It is not easy to lose a parent whether you are young or old.”
She chided herself. He had just told her he was the guardian of his younger sister. He would not be her guardian if his parents lived. “How long have your parents been gone?” she asked quietly.
“My mother died when I was but a boy and my father just five years ago.” He smiled at her. “Too old to be taken in by a loving family. Your brother is fortunate.”
She returned his smile. “He is, and if we can convince him that you are not the ogre you appeared, then..” she swallowed the fear that rose in her throat. If Jane could be brave, she reminded herself, surely, she could be as well. “One day, perhaps you could also become part of our family?”
Any fear that might have fluttered in her stomach was dashed away by the bright grin that overtook his face. “I would like that very much.” He shifted his position. “As much as I would like to sit here all day with you, I fear it is not a good idea. For one, my stomach is about to become very boisterous, and for another, your brother might come looking for you. That would not aid us in our quest to sway his opinion.”
Elizabeth pushed up to her feet, straightened her skirts, and blushed when she realizes she was the subject of Mr. Darcy’s close scrutiny. She held out her hand to him. “Try not to topple me,” she teased. “I should like to be able to dance every set at the assembly, and I fear there might not be enough time to heal if I should injure myself.”
“I would not dream of causing you pain,” he replied lightly as he took her hand and pushed up from his position, using only his strong leg as much as he could. “If my ankle is better by then, perhaps I will be fortunate enough to claim one of your sets?”
“Oh, two sets would set Mama up proudly,” Elizabeth replied with a laugh. “It will also likely shock her unless we have been able to move our meetings from clandestine locations to more standard surroundings for a gentleman to call on a lady.”
He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm as they walked the short distance to where his horse was enjoying a wildflower. “With your permission, I would like to accompany my friend when he calls on your sister.”
“I would like that very much, but William will not be welcoming.”
“I know, and I cannot blame him. I would be far from welcoming to anyone who called on Georgiana after treating her as I treated you – especially if I believed him to be as Wickham has painted me to be.” He lifted her hand to his lips before crossing the stile. “We will sway him. We must.”
Elizabeth stood at the stile for an extended period of time after Darcy rode away. He liked her. The handsome new neighbour’s much more handsome friend liked her. She shook her head. It was wonderfully unbelievable. Finally, when she could see him no longer, she retrieved her book and returned to Longbourn.
Chapter 13
For two days, Darcy endured the glares and huffs of William Bennet as he sat with Elizabeth in the sitting room at Longbourn. Each day, he had also enjoyed a few glare-free moments in Elizabeth’s company as he would stop at the knoll each morning where she was waiting for him. He had learned a good deal about her in a short time.
Her mother was not the source of Elizabeth’s intelligence. Caroline had been correct about Mrs. Bennet not being a wit. However, he could see that in her strange and loud way, she was a caring mother, intent upon seeing her daughters married. In that way, she was no different from any of the mothers, as well as many of the father and brothers, of the ton. They all wanted to see their sisters and daughters married and married well. He could not fault Mrs. Bennet for that desire. He did struggle with enjoying her boisterous nature, but then, he struggled with that trait in all people.
Elizabeth had been raised in a good household. It may have been wanting in some ways – such as exposure to the masters – but it was not lacking in love. That was clearly evident. Mr. Bennet, while not always present and often quiet when he was in company, had quick eyes. He might look as if he were reading a paper, but Darcy had seen the man silently watching both him and Bingley. Thankfully, Elizabeth’s father, unlike his son, wore a pleasant expression when observing and had not told either him or Bingley that they could not call. If William had spoken to his father about anything that Wickham had told him, it did not appear that it was something which would hinder Darcy’s acceptance when he finally approached the gentleman about a proper courtship and marriage.
On the third day after Darcy and Elizabeth had come to their understanding at the bottom of the knoll, Darcy found himself and Bingley invited to dine at Longbourn. Happily, he dressed in his best suit of clothes and entered the carriage. He and Bingley intended to arrive early so that they could speak privately with Mr. Bennet before they ate.
“Are you certain before dinner is the best time?” Bingley asked.
“No,” Darcy admitted. “But I should like to have the interview over with before our evening begins, no matter the outcome.”
“We could be asked to leave.” Bingley fidgeted with his sleeves as he sat in Darcy’s carriage. The Hursts and Caroline would arrive later in Bingley’s carriage.
Darcy nodded. He did not need to be reminded of the fact that he might be unsuccessful. He had no fear about his acceptance from Elizabeth. She had given that to him this morning. He smiled as he remembered holding her in his arms and the softness of her lips against his own.
“You look far too happy for the situation,” Bingley muttered.
“I am attempting to think about pleasant things,” Darcy replied.
“Such as?” Bingley prompted with an air of skepticism.
“A pair of fine eyes,” Darcy replied with a smile.
Bingley chuckled.
“And soft lips,” Darcy added.
Bingley’s eyes grew wide. “You have kissed her?”
Darcy shrugged. “I did not say that I have.”
“Out with it.” Bingley bumped Darcy’s uninjured foot with his.
“It was this morning when I asked her if she would allow me to speak to her father even though her brother has not relented in his position, and after she had given me permission to do so, she also gave me permission to kiss her,” Darcy said.
Bingley shook his head and chuckled. “I never expected you to beat me to it.”
“You intend to kiss Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy teased.
“Obviously not!” Bingley said with a laugh. “You have gained the acceptance of a lady before I have even asked.”
“We cannot all be so decisive,” Darcy quipped.
Bingley continued to chuckle. “I hope then that we are succes
sful with her father, or you will be plagued by the memory of that kiss far more than I will be distressed about never having gotten one from Miss Bennet.”
Darcy drew and released a breath. Whether he was successful or not, that kiss was likely to plague him until he could claim another. “We must succeed” was all he said before the carriage fell into silence for the short distance that remained of their three-mile journey from Netherfield to Longbourn.
“Is the master available?” Darcy asked Mr. Hill when he opened the door to them.
The elderly servant’s lips curled up in a small smile, and the skin around his eyes crinkled with delight. “He is in his study. I will inquire if he is willing to see you, Mr. Darcy.”
“And Mr. Bingley,” Bingley added.
“And Mr. Bingley,” Mr. Hill amended. “Wait here, I will return shortly.”
“Perhaps we should have waited,” Darcy muttered as the urge to flee suddenly took hold of him. The fear of his petition being denied settled into his stomach and caused his heart to race.
“It is far too late to decide that now,” Bingley chided.
“I know,” Darcy said as he tugged at his jacket. “We will succeed.”
“Of course, we will,” Bingley assured him, although to Darcy it did not sound as if Bingley were very sure of their success.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet said as she descended the stairs, “why are you standing here instead of sitting within?”
“We were waiting on Mr. Hill,” Bingley answered.
“Waiting on Mr. Hill? For what?” Mrs. Bennet asked. “Hill,” she said as the servant approached them, “why are these men waiting for you?”
“The master will see you,” Mr. Hill said to Darcy and Bingley.
Mrs. Bennet gasped. “You wish to see Mr. Bennet?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bingley answered.
“Indeed, we do,” Darcy added.
“Well! Do not let me detain you!” she cried in delight and moved toward the sitting room. “Perhaps we will have a bottle of claret with our dinner?” she asked, turning back toward them when she was just outside the sitting room.
