by K C Kahler
“I know, but I do not look forward to being the shortest of all the Bennets and Lucases.”
“I very much look forward to being the tallest of them all. Mama says I shall even be taller than John.”
“I daresay you will be taller than John. Perhaps you may be as tall as Mr Darcy.”
Darcy felt ridiculously pleased again, though he kept his face indifferent as Peter peered at him over his shoulder. The groups soon turned the corner towards the front of the house. The carriage had just arrived and farewells were exchanged. Then the Lucas siblings boarded the carriage and were gone. Bingley and the Miss Bennets chatted amiably as he led them up to the front door. Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet continued up the main staircase to dress for dinner. Miss Elizabeth managed the deed on her own two feet, Darcy noted with some regret.
As he dressed for dinner, he tried to convince himself that he welcomed the Bennet sisters’ departure. He could now begin putting a certain fine-eyed beauty out of his mind and, hopefully, out of his heart. He had one last evening to enjoy her company.
Darcy sighed as his valet carefully tied his cravat. He knew he was behaving like a lovelorn fool. He found comfort in the fact that no one else knew of his dilemma. No one, that is, except perhaps Charlotte Lucas.
“Sir, your arms, please,” Higgins, the valet, held up Darcy’s coat.
“Pardon me. My mind was elsewhere.” Darcy lifted his arms into the sleeves.
“If that is all, sir…”
“Yes, thank you.” As his valet left him, Darcy mentally prepared himself for his last evening in company with Miss Elizabeth. He knew he would no doubt dine with her again before he left Hertfordshire, but not in so intimate a gathering. He would most likely never speak freely with her again, as he had today. He would never be alone with her again. He would never hold her in his arms again. Much as he wished it otherwise, he knew what duty demanded of him.
Darcy gave himself one last inspection in the mirror, and he was struck by his despondent expression. He looked himself in the eye. “Enough of that. Make some excellent memories tonight. They must last you forever.”
Charles Bingley had spent the happiest week in his recollection. But the angelic Miss Bennet had returned home, and he was bereft. Had it been only three days? It felt like an eternity. In contrast to Miss Bennet, his sisters’ voices were grating, their opinions disparaging. He could not spend his time with them. They only suffered by comparison, and he did not wish to think ill of his own sisters. Rising early to avoid breaking his fast with them seemed a wise approach.
Bingley sank down across the table from Darcy, who neither acknowledged him nor commented on his early appearance. Darcy had been more reticent and irritable than usual lately. Bingley had known his friend to be reserved, even severe, in society, but now that he was in company again with only close acquaintances, he should have been at least slightly more companionable. Instead, the opposite was true.
Bingley could not remember his friend being a livelier raconteur than on the last night the Miss Bennets had been present. Miss Elizabeth and Darcy had left the whole room behind when discussing literature. No one, least of all Bingley, could keep up with their many quotes and references.
That Darcy disappeared, however, the moment the Miss Bennets pulled away in Bingley’s carriage on Sunday. Since then, Darcy had resumed his morning rides. He returned from them looking like a Lucas boy—windblown, dishevelled, and muddy. The rest of the time, he buried himself in books and correspondence. Sometimes, he just stared out the window, and he seemed to be imbibing a bit more than usual as well. One would think he was the one pining for a beautiful young lady. But perhaps the Miss Bennets had served as a distraction from whatever was troubling Darcy, and now he was returned to his former cares.
Bingley had already offered his help; to bring it up again would be even more awkward. But he had his own melancholy to consider. He would like some of Darcy’s advice, and perhaps getting his friend to speak on one topic would ease the transition into other matters.
“Would you object to my accompanying you on your ride this morning?”
Darcy shrugged. “I suppose not. But my ride will be vigorous, I warn you.”
“I believe I shall be able to keep up.”
About an hour later, Bingley had to admit that the ride was indeed vigorous. He followed behind Darcy, letting his friend choose their route over fields and along lanes. They came to a halt at the bank of Oakham Stream. Darcy dismounted without a word and, while his mount drank, stared upstream into the woods.
Bingley came to stand near his brooding friend. “I believe I shall call at Longbourn today to inquire after Miss Elizabeth. Will you come with me?”
Darcy continued to stare at the stream for a few moments. “I think it would be best if I did not. In fact, I think it would be best if you did not either.”
“Why ever not? It is common courtesy to check on Miss Elizabeth. And I thought you would welcome the distraction.”
“Have you not noticed that Mrs Bennet is an unabashed matchmaker, and she has been trying to match each of us with one of her daughters?”
“She is harmless, Darcy. All mothers wish their daughters to make good marriages. Besides, I believe I would be quite content to be matched with one of her daughters.”
Darcy finally looked at Bingley for a long moment. “You speak of Miss Bennet.”
“Indeed, I do. She is utter perfection.”
“It is just like you, Bingley, to rush into an attachment. You hardly know her.”
Bingley had expected Darcy to urge caution. “There, you are wrong. I know she is the sweetest, kindest, most generous, most beautiful young lady of my acquaintance. You forget how much time I have spent with her, particularly in the last week.”
“And do you think she returns your regard?”
“She is certainly not indifferent to me.” He glanced away from Darcy’s doubtful look. “I admit she does not show her emotions overmuch. You can hardly be a critic there. But even you must own that her manner towards me is very different than towards any other—Mr Collins, her erstwhile suitor, included.”
Darcy looked down at the running water of the stream. “I concede I did detect a difference in her behaviour towards you, yes.”
Bingley was elated to have his own viewpoint confirmed. “My angel blushes only for me. Had you noticed?” He remembered her last blush, when he had said his goodbyes and helped her into the carriage, his hand lingering on hers longer than was necessary. Oh, yes, Bingley greatly enjoyed her blushes.
“Wipe that lovesick grin off your face.” Darcy’s harsh voice was an unwelcome intrusion. “There is nothing objectionable in Miss Bennet. She is, as you say, kind, generous, and beautiful, and her conduct is all that it ought to be. But, Bingley, her family, her fortune, her connexions… One uncle in trade and another a country lawyer? No dowry to speak of. And the behaviour of her parents and her sisters…”
“Enough! You really can be the most reprehensible snob sometimes. Do you realise how very much you sound like Caroline at this moment?” Bingley paused as he took in Darcy’s shocked expression. He had never spoken so forcefully to his friend before. “Miss Bennet is a gentleman’s daughter, a gentleman’s granddaughter—which is more than Caroline can claim. I do not forget where my fortune was made. That same fortune allows me to marry without a concern for my bride’s dowry, and I am grateful for that freedom. The Bennets are a prominent and well-respected family in Hertfordshire. What care I for silly sisters and vulgar mothers? Who amongst us does not have a family member who disappoints us or embarrasses us?”
Darcy remained silent, spending several minutes considering Bingley’s impassioned speech. He took on a conciliatory tone. “Bingley, I am merely trying to protect you from your own impetuosity. I raise these objections for you to consider. If you are still firm in your position—and I begin to see that you are—then I shall speak on them no more.”
“I love her, Darcy. I wish nothing more than to
spend my life with her if she will have me.” As soon as Bingley voiced the words, he knew them to be true. He knew not what reaction to expect from his friend though. They had never discussed such weighty personal matters before. Would Darcy diminish his feelings, deride them, or accept them?
Darcy took a deep breath. “Will she have you? Have you declared yourself?”
“It would not have been proper while she was a guest in my house. This is one of the reasons I wish to call at Longbourn today: to determine her willingness without such strictures on my behaviour.”
“You surprise me with your restraint. But you were right not to act while she was under your protection. What are the other reasons you wish to call at Longbourn?”
Bingley grinned. “Her voice, her eyes, her smile, her face, her blush, to name just a few. Nay, do not laugh at me. I miss her terribly. I miss everything about her. Perhaps if you ever fall in love, you will understand.”
Darcy sobered and returned his gaze to the stream. “I daresay I shall understand.”
“You will come with me to Longbourn then?”
Darcy deliberated, still looking at the water. Several emotions played over his features before he answered. “I am sorry, but I prefer not to encourage Miss Lydia’s pursuit of me. In any case, I have much business to attend to here.”
Darcy had not worried about Miss Lydia’s infatuation last week. Bingley bit back this observation. He did not wish to quarrel. “But I cannot go alone.”
“Caroline was the hostess. She should be the one to visit the Bennets. Perhaps it is time you accustom her to the notion of sharing more than a friendship with Miss Bennet.”
Bingley groaned, and Darcy barely smiled. “I do not envy you your task. Be as forceful as you were with me, and she will be persuaded, or at least, she will see that you are resolute. She has, in the past, perhaps expected you to yield too much to her influence.”
“She has, for I have yielded. But Caroline will soon see that no one will dissuade me from Miss Bennet.”
“Forgive me for sounding superior, but I think you have changed for the better. I have never known you to stand so strongly for yourself. Is it because of Miss Bennet?”
“I cannot believe my luck at finding such a woman and finding her unattached. How can I not strive to be the best man I can be for her?”
Darcy again became thoughtful. He took the reins of his horse in hand. “Shall we return to the house? A very difficult conversation awaits you.”
The ride back to the house was just as invigorating as the ride away from it. When they arrived, Bingley and Darcy adjourned to their separate rooms for baths.
About two hours later, Bingley wished he was still soaking in that bath.
“Charles, you cannot be serious,” Caroline said after nearly choking on her wine. Bingley was wise to wait until most of the meal had been eaten before broaching the subject. Only Hurst was still eating, as the servants knew to give him larger portions.
“I assure you, I am in earnest.”
“But that family! The mother alone ought to send any potential suitors running, not to mention the sisters! You can do so much better, Charles.”
“I have no wish to ‘do better.’ You can say nothing to disparage Miss Bennet. The faults of her family are no better or worse than any other family and entirely out of her control.”
“You know very well that the faults of her family are worse than many other families.” Caroline looked decidedly red about the face. She was not taking the news well.
Louisa spoke up in a calmer tone. “Charles, we all know Miss Bennet is a dear, sweet girl. I cannot blame you for admiring her. But you must consider her position in society, her fortune, her connexions. When seeking a potential spouse, there is more to consider than beauty and sweetness of temper.”
Bingley nearly laughed at the idea that Mrs Reginald Hurst was lecturing him about how to choose the correct spouse. “Indeed, there is, Louisa. There is compatibility, shared interests, the ability to hold a conversation beyond two sentences. There is also mutual respect and affection. All of these I have found in abundance in Miss Bennet.”
Reginald Hurst belched and muttered apologies.
Caroline made a disgusted sound. “Mr Darcy, please help us talk sense to our poor brother. Surely you agree with us!”
“We have already discussed your reservations. He assures me that the strength of his feelings outweigh these secondary concerns. I trust him to know his own heart. And I trust his friends and family to accept his decisions and rejoice in his happiness.”
Sometimes, Bingley had to step back in awe of his friend’s ability to express himself. When Darcy decided to speak, you could be assured that he really said something. He did not prattle on for the sake of hearing his own voice.
“But you would not attach yourself to the Bennets, would you? It would be insupportable!”
Bingley was surprised to see anger flash across Darcy’s face, but his voice was calm when he replied, “I am not Charles. Only he can determine that which will bring him happiness.”
Caroline turned back to her brother, obviously disappointed in Darcy’s reaction. “This is just what that horrid Mrs Bennet hoped for, and you have stupidly fallen into her trap! She has been throwing all of her daughters at any eligible man—Mr Collins, you, Mr Darcy! The impudence! And what’s worse, those girls throw themselves at any eligible man.”
Bingley began to protest, but Caroline waved him off. “Perhaps not Miss Bennet, but I am convinced that shameless Miss Eliza’s twisted ankle was just part of a plot to throw the eldest Bennets into your company. They hoped to charm you both!”
Darcy rose from his chair and went to the window, turning his back to the table. Caroline continued her ever-more-shrill speech towards his back. “At least Mr Darcy had sense enough not to be taken in. But you, Charles, you need not always be so obliging!”
“I shall make a start at being disobliging right now, Caroline, by advising you to hold your sharp tongue. You will not speak ill of Miss Bennet or Miss Elizabeth in my presence again.” Bingley was surprised by the steely nature of his own voice, and Caroline appeared no less shocked.
“And what of Mr Collins?’ she sputtered. “You seem to be forgetting him in all this mooning over Miss Bennet.”
“Mr Collins has gone back to Kent. There has been no engagement announced, not even a formal courtship. Clearly, the rumours about a match between them were just that: rumours. And lucky for me, for I am free to moon over Miss Bennet to my heart’s content, and I shall begin directly, when you and I call at Longbourn this afternoon.”
“I shall do no such thing! We only just rid our house of the Bennets; why should I go seek them out?”
“My house, Caroline. Though I allow you to be mistress here, it is my house. Now perhaps you would like to reconsider your plans for this afternoon and accompany me, as my sister and the gracious hostess you are, to Longbourn to inquire after Miss Elizabeth’s health.” Bingley recognised that he was making some unnamed threat, but if he could bluff his way through this confrontation and then speak with Darcy, all would be well. He kept his face unreadable as his two sisters regarded him intently. They were trying to determine his resolve.
Louisa blinked first. “As I have said since making her acquaintance, I should like to know more of Miss Bennet. It is no surprise you feel the same way. She is a lovely, sweet girl. Caroline and I were just lamenting her absence earlier.”
Caroline spoke through a tight mouth. “Yes, Miss Bennet is all that is lovely. I should very much like to see her this afternoon.”
“Excellent! Be ready to leave in one hour, please,” said Bingley, happy to return to his normal cheerful tone.
Elizabeth watched from the front window as Mr Bingley handed his sister into their carriage. She could not help but recall the last time she had been helped into that very carriage. It was on Sunday in front of Netherfield, and the manner in which she was assisted was quite a bit different. Mr Darc
y had literally lifted her quite easily with his hands on her hips. His gold-flecked dark eyes were intent on her as he did so. It was disconcerting, to say the least, and she had hoped her blush could be dismissed as a normal reaction to the chilly air.
She did not know what to think about Mr Darcy after her discussion with Charlotte. She could never repay him for all of his assistance; that much she did know. But the man himself was a puzzle. Sometimes conversing with him was easy and natural. Other times, he was silent and brooding, often wearing that disapproving mask she had become accustomed to in the earliest days of their acquaintance. At those times, Elizabeth found herself wishing to draw him into the conversation, so that she might provoke one of his rare smiles. She enjoyed his smiles. But more disturbing was the great disappointment she had felt when the carriage had come to Longbourn today and he had not emerged from it.
Now that Mr and Miss Bingley were gone, Mrs Bennet found herself in the rare position of needing to scold Jane. “Jane, how could you agree to walk in the garden with Mr Bingley, let alone linger so long with him? You know he is meant for Lizzy.”
Elizabeth spoke up cheerfully. “I hereby relinquish any claims on him. He and Jane are much better suited.”
“Nonsense! Jane is for Mr Collins. Everyone knows that.”
Elizabeth was about to make some disparaging comments, but Jane spoke first. “Mama, I am not for Mr Collins. I shall never be for Mr Collins.”
Mary looked up from her book, her pen frozen above her extract. Lydia and Kitty watched too, their hands continuing to work at the ribbon, though they made no appreciable progress retrimming their bonnets. There was something about Jane’s posture, her tone.
Mrs Bennet may not have noticed this subtle difference in Jane, but she certainly realised she had been directly contradicted. “Of course you will. He fancies you, Jane. I am sure he will offer for you when he returns to Hertfordshire. If not for Miss Lizzy and her ankle, you might well have been engaged to him already.”
“He never declared his intentions to me. He never asked my permission or Papa’s permission to court me. He has gone without speaking of it, and it is just as well, for I would not have welcomed his suit. I shall never marry Mr Collins.”
