A Very Austen Valentine

by Robin Helm

  Although she kept glancing at him over her shoulder, seeming as if she was about to burst with questions, she waited until she was seated and the footman left the room before saying, “How was dinner last night?”

  “The Gardiners were excellent hosts. The food was superb. I shall have to see if Mrs. Gardiner’s cook will share the recipe for some of the dishes they served.”

  She looked at him, doe-eyed with disappointment.

  He laughed. “I know that is not what you meant, dearest. All went well with Miss Bennet. My behaviour was all that a gentleman’s should be, and I believe I am making a better impression than I have in the past.”

  “Mrs. Annesley will be down soon, so please do not tease me any further. Tell me, if you have been your best self, Miss Bennet must be falling in love with you with by now!”

  From your mouth to God’s ears.

  “You will be able to judge her behaviour for yourself tomorrow night. The Bingleys and their houseguest are coming here for dinner Monday evening.”

  He had been tempted to invite the Gardiners, as well, but he did not wish to overwhelm Georgiana with meeting too many new people at once. He hoped there would be many opportunities to invite them in the future.

  Now she really was bouncing in her chair with excitement. “Oh, Fitzwilliam! I cannot wait to meet her. And Mrs. Bingley, of course. I must go through the menu with Mrs. Mead again, for everything must be absolutely perfect!” She rose from her seat.

  Darcy smiled and realized he had been doing a lot of that the past few days. “Sit and eat first, Dove, then meet with Mrs. Mead. She is probably eating now, as well.”

  She glanced down at her untouched food. “Yes. Yes, of course. Oh, thank you, Brother.” She kissed him on the cheek and then returned to her chair.

  “What is all the excitement about?” Richard’s voice came from the doorway. None in the household stood on ceremony with Richard, coming and going at any and all hours, depending on his schedule.

  “Richard! What are you doing here?” Georgiana asked.

  “Not happy to see me, Squirt? Ah, yes, ’tis always the plight of younger sons.”

  “We are always happy to see you, Richard,” said Darcy, “but you said you would not come today.”

  “My General cancelled our meeting this morning, and after seeing the food available at headquarters was less than desirable, I decided to come here for some of your cook’s appetizing cuisine instead.” He made a beeline to the food trays on the side table and started loading his plate high. “An Army man learns to take advantage of the best whenever he can.”

  “Speaking of food, are you free Monday for dinner?” Georgiana asked.

  Richard brought his plate to the table, sat, and dug in. “Is there a guest list?”

  “Miss Bennet and the Bingleys have accepted our invitation.”

  “Ah, Miss Bennet, eh?” He furrowed his brow. “Bingley holds no grudge against you for trying to talk him out of marrying his wife?”

  “Obviously not, since the invitation was accepted,” Darcy said a bit gruffly.

  “Fitzwilliam has been spending quite a bit of time with the Bingleys and their guest lately,” Georgiana stated.

  “Oh, really?” Richard sported a curious expression when he met Darcy’s gaze.

  Darcy nodded. “I dined with them on Monday and Friday, and spent part of the day with them on Tuesday. They proved they are a very happy couple. I am glad I was wrong.”

  Richard’s eyebrows rose high. “You are glad you were wrong? Being in love certainly has improved your demeanour, Cousin.”

  Georgiana smiled. “Yes, it has.”

  “Are you two saying I have been unpleasant my whole life?”

  “Not your entire life, but definitely lately.” Richard said. “And any time you were proven wrong in the past, you would be sulking, insisting you were not.”

  “I have never sulked in my life.”

  Georgiana and Richard both chuckled.

  Richard said between forkfuls, “If you say so.”

  Chapter Nine

  ~Monday, February 10, 1812

  Elizabeth had spent many hours at her dressing table, and Ruth had taken great care in arranging her hair. Now she stood before the mirror in her dressing room, waiting for the maid to finish buttoning up the back of her gown. All that time, she had been thinking of the host of tonight’s party. Mr. Darcy.

  She smiled to herself. Was she not always thinking of Mr. Darcy lately?

  It had been an illuminating experience to shop with gentlemen two days ago. Her own father would have refused to go at all, so she was not expecting shopping in the company of gentlemen to be agreeable in the least, but Charles was his ever amiable self, and Mr. Darcy was pleasant during the four hours they had spent together. What amazed her most was that his taste and hers seemed to coincide in almost every detail.

  Mr. Darcy’s gracious treatment of her aunt and uncle at their warehouse and at dinner at the Gardiners’ home Thursday evening was more than she had expected. It seemed he had no problem socializing with a tradesman’s family after all. Everyone enjoyed each other’s company, warming her soul. She could imagine their gathering together for many years to come.

  That night, every time she had looked at him, he was already watching her, and he never shied away except to avoid being rude to whomever he was talking with at the time.

  Oh, there was no doubt. She was falling deeper and deeper in love with Mr. Darcy.

  Then, when he helped her don her cloak as the evening drew to an end, he asked if he could introduce her to his sister. She smiled and nodded her agreement.

  After the ladies had been handed into the coach, Charles and Darcy stood out on the sidewalk for a moment talking. Once the coach was underway, Charles informed Jane and Elizabeth that they had just been invited to dine at Mr. Darcy’s home on Monday.

  Which was today.

  Had he truly waited for her permission before making the engagement?

  A thrill ran though her.

  She was especially anticipating this evening. She would get to know him further by seeing what items were given the place of honour on the mantelpiece. Were there portraits, landscapes, or seascapes on the walls? Were the names of the artists who painted the pieces more important to the owners than was the composition? What books were on their shelves? These things and many more told her a great deal about the occupants of any home.

  Additionally, she hoped she might find a moment of privacy to thank Mr. Darcy for the poem.

  Was he wondering if she had received it? Or was her behaviour answer enough?

  Would Miss Darcy like her? If not, there was little hope he would renew his addresses, for he held his sister in the highest esteem.

  Oh, bother! Whatever would be, would be.

  She entered her bedchamber and glanced at the bed. Was it her imagination or was there a letter on her pillow?

  Thanking and dismissing the maid, Elizabeth drew closer.

  It had to be the poem she had received several days ago. She had read it over countless times, including just before dressing. Perhaps she had left it on the bed? But she was always so careful to put it away. Her reputation could be tarnished irrevocably by accepting a letter from a man to whom she was not related.

  She picked it up and turned it over. The seal was intact.

  Goodness, it was a new one!

  How hard to love, and yet that love conceal,

  My eyes name what I dare not reveal,

  None in this earthly world I chuse but thee!

  Stretch forth thy hand, thy follower to meet.

  Elizabeth sighed. It was Mr. Darcy’s handwriting again.

  Who was delivering them to her?

  When asked, Ruth had said she always left her letters on her writing desk.

  She cast away the question. There was no harm done as long as word of it did not get out. In fact, she was delighted by the clandestine method of delivery.

  Was a valentine a t
ransgression against propriety, anyway? She chose to assume not.

  Just in case, it was better not to leave them carelessly about. She folded the letter and fished out the other from its hiding place, put them in her pocket, and headed downstairs.

  An hour later, the Bingley coach pulled up in front of Mr. Darcy’s townhouse. Charles’s house was large, but this was enormous! A multitude of windows stared down at her from the façade.

  A footman opened the door, and Charles stepped down to help Jane out, then turned away.

  Remaining where she was, she fretted over why he did not do the same for her. A moment later, Mr. Darcy stood in the doorway. “May I, Miss Bennet?”

  The heat of his gaze flowed through her. She smiled and took his hand. Once outside, he escorted her into the house, Charles and Jane a few steps ahead of them. She should take this opportunity of being relatively alone with him to thank him for the valentine poems, but she was so affected by his extraordinary attention, she could not find the words.

  Once she had removed her cloak, he offered her his arm. She wrapped her hand around his forearm, and they took the staircase up one level.

  She had barely noticed what was around her in the entrance hall, but here, the staircase was lined with small landscapes, evenly spaced.

  “Is that Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy?” she nodded her head at a painting.

  “Yes. Very observant of you, Miss Bennet.” He stopped on the landing and steered her closer to the wall where several were displayed. “Have you ever been to Derbyshire?”

  “No, but as I told you, the Gardiners and I will be travelling to the Lake District in the summer.”

  “These on the staircase are ones my mother painted of the grounds at Matlock, where she was raised.”

  “They are excellently done.”

  “Georgiana has inherited our mother’s talent for drawing and painting. You shall see two of her works in the parlour we are headed for now, as well as a screen she painted. I believe she also made the pillows on the couch.”

  “I look forward to seeing them all.” Elizabeth did not know what else to say until she actually viewed them, so she asked. “Is Matlock where Colonel Fitzwilliam also grew up?”

  He seemed a bit concerned at her question, and she realized he might have mistaken it as an interest in the colonel. She quickly added, “You once mentioned you were always riding over to visit one another and staying the night at each other’s estates.”

  “Yes. Right.” His brow smoothed. “Matlock is not ten miles from Pemberley.”

  “It must have been nice for your mother to have relations so near.”

  “She enjoyed a close relationship with her brother, the Earl of Matlock. Her sister moved to Rosings Park once she married.”

  “Lady Catherine, of course. I was not sure how you were related.”

  They continued up the second half of the stairway. As they crossed the corridor to a door, she realized she had missed yet another opportunity to thank him for the poems. Silly of her.

  A footman opened double doors into a parlour where all were standing in a little grouping. It looked as though Charles had gotten tired of waiting for them and was introducing Jane.

  As they approached, she let go of Mr. Darcy’s arm and suddenly felt the absence.

  She smiled at Colonel Fitzwilliam and turned to the young lady on his arm. Mr. Darcy introduced his sister, and Mrs. Annesley, her companion.

  “Miss Darcy, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

  Miss Darcy spoke softly, “Miss Bennet, the pleasure is mine.” She glanced from her brother to her companion and back to Elizabeth, smiling nervously.

  Elizabeth was glad the one negative report she had heard about Miss Darcy had been another falsehood. She was not proud and unapproachable. It was obvious to her in a moment — Miss Darcy was shy!

  “I have heard many good things about you from your brother. Mr. Bingley and his sisters have all sung your praises, as have your cousins, Miss de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  Miss Darcy blushed. “I fear they are too kind. I have heard much about you, too, Miss Bennet.”

  After she greeted Mrs. Annesley, Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke, “Miss Bennet, it is very good to see you again.”

  “And you, Colonel. I did not realize you would be in attendance; Mr. Darcy had said you were occupied with your duties.”

  “My duties can wait. When I heard you would be here, and that I would have the chance to meet the lovely Mrs. Bingley and catch up with my old friend, I could not pass it up.”

  They all found seats. Elizabeth shared a sofa with Miss Darcy. “I have heard you are quite skilled an artist, Miss Darcy, and at least two of your paintings are in this room. Will you show them to me?”

  The young lady coloured once again but complied with the request. Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see that Mr. Darcy did not join in conversation with the others and continued watching her and his sister instead.

  Miss Darcy showed her the paintings, one a landscape and the other a vase of flowers.

  Elizabeth referred to the still life. “It is interesting how you mixed flowers that grow well in the wild with those that do best in tended gardens. It is a perfect blend, in my opinion.”

  Miss Darcy’s smile was more relaxed now. “You are the first person to notice. I combine them all the time.”

  “And you are the only person I have ever met who arranges flowers in the same manner as I do. I have a great love of nature; I can see you do as well.”

  She nodded. “I often ride out to places that are pretty and allow my horse to rest while I walk about. I also love to stroll through the gardens here in London and at Pemberley. Do you ride, Miss Bennet?”

  “I do not. I had an unpleasant experience while learning and never tried it again. But you enjoy it?”

  “I do, above all else. If you enjoy nature, I recommend that you try again. You may reach places while riding that you could not manage while walking.” Miss Darcy giggled. “Unless, of course, you plan to return after dark.”

  “I have become lost and returned after dark more than once.” Elizabeth bit her bottom lip. “It was not an experience I would like to repeat, if only because of my mother’s reaction to the event. My sisters and I did not hear the end of it for weeks!” She laughed. “Now I remain on the well-worn paths. Usually.”

  Miss Darcy giggled. “How many sisters do you have?”

  “My poor father is overrun with females, having a wife and five daughters. Lydia is the youngest at fifteen, and then there is Kitty, Mary, and me, all still at home. Jane is the oldest.”

  Miss Darcy gasped. “Four sisters? I cannot imagine what it would be like to have even one. It has always been just Fitzwilliam and me.”

  “You have cousins nearby, I am told. Are there any females?”

  “I have one female cousin among the Fitzwilliams, but she is the eldest child. There are too many years between us to have become close. The nearest thing I have to a sister is Anne, I mean Miss de Bourgh, who you have met, but she has been ill most of my lifetime, so I have not spent much time with her. We do correspond often, though. I understand she has been improving lately. She hopes to visit London in a few months.”

  “I am so happy to hear she is on the mend. She visited us with your brother and cousin almost every day at the parsonage. I enjoyed Miss de Bourgh’s company very much.”

  Elizabeth revisited the other painting. “Your choice here of combining wildlife into your landscape — the birds, rabbits, and sheep — is refreshing. So many of the ladies paintings I have seen fail to do so, but I think animals and birds are an important part of the experience.” Elizabeth inhaled deeply. “I am struck by how ideal this scene is. Truly, you are a very talented painter, Miss Darcy, and your composition is quite outstanding. I can nearly smell the fresh air.”

  A deep voice came from behind the ladies. “It is the scene from the terrace outside Georgiana’s chambers at Pemberley.”

  Both
the ladies jumped a little. Elizabeth laughed, and after a moment, Miss Darcy joined in.

  Mr. Darcy said, “I apologize for startling you, but did you not hear the dinner bell?”

  “I confess we were so deep in conversation, we did not, sir.” Elizabeth smiled up at him.

  His gaze locked with hers. She did not realize how long they had stared at each other until Miss Darcy cleared her throat. Elizabeth felt her face heat.

  “May I escort both of you ladies in to dinner?” He turned and held out both arms.

  “You may, sir,” Miss Darcy answered cheerily.

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  After the guests had left, Darcy and Richard were in his study, cravats untied, jackets off, and feet up on two ottomans, sipping brandy.

  “I believe tonight was a complete success, Darce,” Richard said.

  Darcy thought back over the evening. Georgiana already loved Elizabeth, and he could tell as he watched them converse that Elizabeth enjoyed his sister’s company just as much. A few times, he had become adrift in Elizabeth’s eyes, and each time he felt as if he were coming home. He did not wish to look away, ever, but his duties as host had demanded it.

  Would there be days and nights in the future when he could indulge himself and become lost in her presence for as long as he wished?

  After dinner, they had separated for only a few minutes. Elizabeth sang and played for them, and Darcy was entranced. So beautiful.

  Richard smacked him on the arm.

  “What?”

  “I have been talking to you, you muddle-headed numbskull.”

  “And what were you saying, dear cousin?”

  “Nothing can make you angry tonight, can it?”

  Darcy shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  Richard laughed. “I was saying that you seemed as proud as a peacock while escorting the ladies into the dining room, Georgie on one arm and Miss Bennet on the other.”

  Darcy grinned. “I felt like one, too.”

  “I think you have done it, Darcy. She most definitely is falling in love with you.”

  Darcy pulled his feet off the ottoman and sat up straight. “You think so?”