by Robin Helm
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“Did you see it, too, Richard?” Anne asked in a soft voice, as her cousin took a seat across from her.
He turned his head to face Anne and rolled his eyes towards Mrs. Jenkinson, who was sitting nearby.
Anne said, “You may speak in front of Mrs. Jenkinson. I hide nothing from her.”
Richard smiled politely at the older lady, then turned back to Anne. “You mean Darcy at tea?”
Anne nodded.
“Of course, I did. I have never been as flabbergasted by any sight as I was at seeing Darcy in the grips of such strong affection. He certainly had me fooled during the trip here, insisting he did not believe in love matches. Miss Bennet seems perfect for him.” He wrinkled his brow. “We must make a battle plan.”
“We? You mean, you and I?”
“Yes.” He turned to the companion. “And Mrs. Jenkinson, if you would like to help.”
Mrs. Jenkinson smiled and nodded.
Strange. In all the years the companion had been with Anne, he could not remember ever hearing her speak. He shook off the thought.
“Should not Darcy be the one to plan something?” Anne asked.
Richard sat back and stretched an arm over the back of the sofa. “I know not if Darcy even realizes how he feels about the lady. Either way, we need to take action. I am sure he will have all sorts of reasons to resist what his heart longs for, familial expectations and the like, especially after your mother’s speech once the guests left. Aunt Catherine wants Darcy to marry you out of duty, of course, and he will insist on marrying someone of the upper ten thousand for the same reason. Bah! We both know he would be miserable with any of the so-called ‘acceptable’ ladies of the ton that chase him at every event he attends.”
Anne’s eyes widened. “I am picturing a ballroom where Darcy is dodging between groups of people in conversation to escape from young ladies coming at him from all directions, trying to get close enough to persuade him to dance with them.”
“Do not forget the maidens’ mothers in your musings. When it comes to finding husbands for their daughters, they can be a crafty bunch.”
She giggled. Mrs. Jenkinson smiled.
“Well, perhaps they are not quite that indiscreet,” said Richard, “but you have got the main point. He cannot stand their machinations. If we leave it up to Darcy, in the end, he will be alone.”
“Or worse, married to someone he detests and Georgiana does not like.”
“And if that is the case, we would find her insufferable, as well.” Richard squinted. “Do you think your mother noticed Darcy’s attraction to Miss Bennet? I mean, why else would she speak of how little Miss Bennet’s dowry is, and that she is not of the same station as we?”
“Mayhap she was warning you away from her?”
“Me?” Richard thought over yesterday afternoon’s events. “It is possible she was, at that. But I was not paying attention to her for that reason. It is just that Miss Bennet was so entertaining. I hope I did not give her the wrong idea.”
“You know I am not good at identifying how she might interpret the attention you were paying her, Richard. I have so little experience at sorting out such things.” Anne shrugged. “Just in case, you had best make it plain you are not interested in her in that way.”
They were quiet for a minute.
Anne smiled. “I might have an idea about what we can do to help Darcy along.”
A knock on the door interrupted their talk.
“Shall we will continue this conversation later?”
“It is probably better this way,” Anne answered. “I need time to think my scheme through before I tell you about it, and we should discuss everything thoroughly before acting.”
“Agreed, and perhaps we should observe the two together a few more times before confronting him about our suspicions.” Richard said. “Would you be up for a visit to the parsonage?”
“Yes. I do enjoy Mrs. Collins’s company, and I think I will like Miss Bennet just as much.”
Richard nodded and answered the door.
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~Monday, January 6, 1812
Elizabeth jolted awake. Light suddenly flooded the room. She blinked rapidly, hoping the motion would help her eyes to adjust. The Collins’s maid, Sally, pulled back another set of curtains.
Goodness! The angle of light spoke of its being much later than she would normally sleep.
Over the past few days, Elizabeth had not been sleeping well at all, tossing and turning much of the night before finally dropping off after seeing the first rays of light through the slit between her curtains. She awakened feeling more tired than she had been upon going to bed; consequently, she had not been walking out as often in the mornings.
A glance at the clock on the mantelpiece had her hurrying through her morning routine as she contemplated why this was occurring. She did not feel ill. So, what was it?
The gentlemen from Rosings, probably wearied with inactivity at the main house whilst Lady Catherine was busy with her daily appointment with Mr. Collins had kept the ladies at the parsonage busy with morning visits. Most days this past week, Miss de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson had also accompanied them.
Anne de Bourgh was more open and pleasant when not under her mother’s strict thumb, and Elizabeth had come to like her. Colonel Fitzwilliam was always entertaining, but his banter was becoming routine. And picking up where he had left off in Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy tended to sit without saying a word, staring at her, probably trying to find fault in everything she said and did.
While Sally pinned her hair up in a simple bun, Elizabeth glanced at a short pile of letters, received since arriving at Hunsford one week ago, from her aunt, her mother (which included a short note from her father at the bottom), and her sister Mary. None from Kitty or Lydia, though that was expected. Not one from Jane.
Was Jane so busy that she could not jot off a few lines?
She sighed.
Last evening, after church, the Hunsford party had been invited to Rosings for tea once again. She had almost decided to say she was not feeling up to going, but Charlotte had anticipated her. The entreating look her friend shot her way made her keep her excuses to herself.
Lady Catherine was just as reproachful to Elizabeth as she had been the last time they had been there. It was as if Elizabeth were wearing an invisible target that drew that lady’s censure. At least Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh intervened and asked her to play earlier during this visit than the last.
When they returned to the parsonage, Elizabeth hoped for some intelligent conversation to distract her from her disagreeable mood, but it was not to be. Mr. Collins had been in such a state of excitement, there was no stopping him from reiterating every detail of their visit, including all criticisms of Elizabeth. Each sentence Lady Catherine had spoken was echoed, every feature of the tea service was described, and a tribute was paid to each one of the overabundant furnishings of the parlour. Of course, all in attendance were expected to praise and admire each item Mr. Collins mentioned, but Elizabeth learned that a polite smile or a simple nod once in a while worked just as well. While fighting to keep her yawns at bay, it had been a challenge to keep her disagreeable mood in check.
Knowing her cousin, the whole event would be repeated once again at breakfast.
While Sally tied the laces on Elizabeth’s stays, she determined she could not cope with it today. She would not stay indoors this morning.
Thank goodness it was such a mild winter!
She stopped in the dining room to wish them all a good morning, grabbed a muffin from the side table, and headed out the door.
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The moment Darcy knocked on Anne’s sitting room door, he rethought the wisdom of his choice to meet them here before going for a ride. He was in such a foul state of mind — again — he should have sent his valet with a note.
About to step into the room, he stopped short. Why was Richard grinning like
the cat who had just eaten the pet canary? Anne, too? Even Mrs. Jenkinson was beaming at him.
He preferred not to find out why.
“I, uh… cannot stay. I only came to tell you I am going for a ride.”
Richard opened his mouth to speak, and Darcy knew he would either invite him to go with them to the parsonage or ask to come along.
“Alone,” Darcy said firmly.
Richard’s eyebrows rose quickly. “Before you go, come in. We need to speak with you.”
Darcy tamped down the urge to roll his eyes as he entered.
“So, tell us…” Richard, still standing near the door, cleared his throat. “You are interested in Miss Bennet?”
Darcy stumbled, but caught himself. He turned to face Richard. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Anne and I know you too well not to recognize a particular fondness in your behaviour.”
Darcy straightened his spine. “Miss Bennet and I were previously acquainted. It is a familiarity you have noticed. That is all.”
Anne said, “You expect us to believe there is nothing more between you? On your side, at the very least?”
Darcy whirled around to say to Anne, “Yes. I do.”
Richard came closer. “Then why is it that every time we visit at Hunsford, you sit there like a lump of coal and do nothing but stare at the lady?”
“What do you mean, stare at her? I do not stare at her!”
Anne nodded forcefully. “Yes, you do, Darcy. If someone stared at me the way you do at her, it would be rather disturbing. Unsettling.”
“It is fearsome, if you ask me,” Richard added.
Darcy walked over to the window to look out.
Could he keep lying to his cousins? A sense of guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders. Disguise of every sort was his abhorrence. See what this obsession has caused me to do!
If he told them, they were sure to understand his position. Perhaps they could be of some use.
Darcy heard whispering behind his back. He did not turn around.
“You are correct,” he muttered. If they happened to hear him, it was meant to be.
“Darcy? Did you say something?” Anne asked.
Richard answered, “He said we were correct.” Then to Darcy, he said, “Do you have some sort of understanding with Miss Bennet?”
He turned around and shook his head. “There can be no understanding between us. In fact, when I left Hertfordshire, I had hoped I would never see her ever again.”
He walked across the room to the hearth and leaned his forearm on it, staring into the fire.
“Why?” Anne asked.
He turned around.
Richard looked as dumbfounded as Anne did. Mrs. Jenkinson turned away, raising her embroidery as if to catch more light from the window.
He had thought he would not have to explain it to them.
“Aunt already told you why not,” he said looking at Richard. “Nobody has ever heard of her family. She has not been presented at court. She has no fortune, no connections, and her relatives are in trade.” He counted off each point on his fingers.
“I was under the impression that Miss Bennet is a gentleman’s daughter,” Anne said.
“Of course, she is; her father owns a miniscule estate that earns about two thousand a year. Barely enough to keep his wife and daughters fed and clothed properly, let alone provide his daughters with a dowry. They cannot even use their coach whenever they want because their horses are always being used on the farm.”
“Have you been gambling, Darcy?” Richard asked.
“Ridiculous! Of course not.”
Richard stood. “Then when did you become so greedy?”
“I beg your pardon!”
Anne asked, “Why do you need to marry a lady of the first circles who has a large dowry?”
He turned around, nearly shouting, “Because it is expected of me!”
The exclamation echoed through the room for several heartbeats.
Anne tilted her head. “Then you wish to marry me after all?”
He furrowed his brow. “I did not say that, Anne—”
“Because that is what you would do — what we would do — if we were to do exactly what was expected of us.” She rose from her chair and walked to him, taking his hand in both of hers. “Darcy, even I will refuse to do what is expected of me.” She paused. “Is the ton’s approval so important to you that you will give up love and happiness? What will their sanction gain you in the end?”
He shook his head. It was what he was taught, what he had been brought up to believe.
“You do know,” Anne said, “that if you do not make your feelings known and court her, she will never know the man you are inside.”
“Stop being so afraid to show her how you feel, old man,” Richard said.
“If you let her get away, she will marry someone else someday.”
Anne’s words, just the thought of it, took his breath away.
His voice was rough when he said, “I understand that.”
“She is going to London soon. She is too attractive and vivacious to remain single for long,” Richard added.
“London? She will stay with her aunt and uncle who live in Cheapside?”
Anne answered, “I understand she will be staying with Mrs. and Mr. Bingley.”
Panic welled up in his chest. He had always thought she would marry some tradesman and he would never have to see her again. If she stayed with Bingley, she would mix with the same circle as he. His mind whirled.
What if another man of equal stature to himself, but without as strong a sense of duty, decided she would make a good wife for him? And she would, he was sure of it.
His stomach turned.
He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, this is all obvious. What I need is help forgetting her, not to have you slap me in the face with it.”
Anne dropped her hands to her sides. Richard shook his head.
Good, they had given up! “I will see you at luncheon,” he said as he hurried through the door and down the corridor.
The sun was shining brightly through every window he passed, beckoning him outdoors. A great deal of fresh air and exercise would be necessary to rid himself of the painful thoughts his cousins had put in his head before he could concentrate on his aunt’s ledgers.
In a few moments, he was walking briskly away from the house towards the stables.
He rode his aunt’s steed hard, heading towards a place on the grounds which always brought him peace. He steered the horse to the stream that wound through the area, dismounted, and gave the horse his head. Still agitated, he picked up a long stick and used it as a switch, swiping at the long grass as he walked briskly around the outskirts of the field, close to the trees.
What was he to do? He had left Hertfordshire to remove himself from the temptation that was Elizabeth. While in London, he had tried so hard to forget her, only to have her show up here a month later. Since arriving, he had planned to keep himself fully occupied with estate business, and yet every time Richard or Anne mentioned they were going to the parsonage for a visit, he could not stop himself from accompanying them.
He should have conquered this fixation by now, having always prided himself on his strength of will. Had he only been fooling himself?
Was he really so weak that he could not put an infatuation from his mind?
Or was this not simply an infatuation? Were his feelings too strong to wish away? Should he try to woo her, as his cousins suggested?
Had he done too good a job pushing her away, making her dislike him? What if she despised him by now?
Movement to his right caught his attention. His breath caught.
Elizabeth.
Chapter Four
Elizabeth’s ramble led her along a wide trail through the woods which narrowed to a well-worn path that made its way through a pine grove. Several yards ahead, brighter sunlight filtered through the woods. The trees parted, and she ent
ered what seemed like a natural clearing, sheltered from all sides.
Elizabeth gasped.
Whilst most of the other plants on the estate took their winter’s nap, here it was as if nature had provided a respite for those weary of brown and gray. Evergreens abounded. The golden tones of gorse bushes, white blossoms of winter jasmine, the silver strands of silk-tassel, and the yellow blooms of winter honeysuckle dotted the area. The deep purple fruit of laurestine plants could already be seen. An enormous holly bush with abundant red berries rested near a babbling brook, with the green spikes of what looked like crocuses projecting from the shore.
“Lovely!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
The snap of a twig sounded behind and to her left. She whirled in that direction. “Mr. Darcy!”
“Good morning, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth blinked. She had just regained some measure of pleasure. Why did she have to be burdened with such a disagreeable gentleman this morning?
“I did not mean to frighten you, but when you entered the meadow, I thought I should make my presence known. This is my favourite place at Rosings. I usually end up here at least once when I come to visit my aunt. It is a bit out of the way; I am surprised you found it.”
This was the longest speech she had ever heard from him, and he seemed more relaxed than she had ever seen him, as well. Perhaps he was as fond of nature as she was? It was no matter. If this was his favourite place, she would go and never return.
He spoke again. “You should see this meadow when the spring flowers are in bloom. It is remarkable.”
“It is remarkable now.” She smiled politely.
“That it is.” He took a step towards her.
“I am sorry. I just happened upon this spot. I did not mean to intrude.”
Awkward tension filled the space between them. She was about to turn to leave when he spoke again.
“There is no intrusion. The place is not mine. It is better to share the enjoyment of it, do you not think?”
She did, regarding most situations, but she had not thought he would agree. “It is a quite a walk. I must head back, or Mrs. Collins will be wondering where I have gotten to.”
