I Met Mr Darcy Via Luton

by Fredrica Edward

  "I will call for you in the morning, dear. Is there any chance we can journey to Netherfield alone?"

  "I believe Georgie and Lydia are touring the infirmary tomorrow morning, so if I can convince Mary to stay at home, it should be possible. Mother has invited you for lunch. Can you come?"

  "Of course."

  "Be warned. She intends to invite the rector."

  "It is not a problem. We had better speak to the rector before I leave."

  "Mama is intent on our precipitate marriage."

  "I am intent on our precipitate marriage. I would elope with you tomorrow if I thought your father would let me get away with it."

  "Nonsense. What would your Aunt Catherine have to say about that?"

  "Congratulations?" suggested Darcy.

  As promised, Darcy arrived at Longbourn to convey his beloved to Netherfield at eight. The carriage had not proceeded two hundred yards from Longbourn when he lowered the blinds.

  Elizabeth froze. "Fitzwilliam, what are you about?"

  "Don't worry my dear. I don't intend to ravish you in a carriage." Well, at least not right now. Though I must admit it's something I've always wanted to try. "Will you give me a kiss?"

  "A kiss should be fine," she conceded, allowing him to sidle up to her.

  Teasing her lips with his own, Darcy snaked his arms around her lithe body, boldly putting his hand on her breast where it had fortuitously landed on the previous day. He felt her instantly respond, and he teased the hardened nipple with his thumb before squeezing her soft breast gently in his palm.

  She sighed and then mirrored his actions by undoing the middle button on his waistcoat and slipping her hand inside, grabbing the hard muscle of his breast through his linen shirt, and kneading it. She felt his nipple harden. Oh ho! So men are not so different from women! she thought.

  Releasing her lips, Darcy trailed kisses beneath her cheekbone before sucking her earlobe into his mouth. He felt her shudder.

  Elizabeth moaned and pushed him away. "Fitzwilliam, stop! If we continue, we will not be decent by the time we get to Netherfield."

  "True," he admitted reluctantly. Shifting to the rear-facing seat, he buttoned up his waistcoat and checked his cravat.

  Heavens, if this keeps up, I'll have to start carrying my Belcher neckcloth! Then Darcy smiled to himself when he realised he'd made another bad pun.

  "What is so funny?" Elizabeth asked.

  "I'll tell you after we're married," he replied.

  The morning was spent uneventfully working in the library. They took tea with the soldiers, discussing the war in the Peninsula. Darcy was particularly interested in the soldiers' reminiscences of the Duke of Wellington. He had only met the duke at balls over the years and found it difficult to imagine him on the battlefield from those encounters.

  At noon, they climbed back into the carriage for the journey back to Longbourn. Conscious they were to pick up Lydia and Georgiana in Meryton, Darcy contented himself with holding Elizabeth's hand.

  Georgiana had been invited to tour the fever hospital and the infirmary with Lydia. Dr Gregory had arrived at Longbourn after his morning rounds to transport them to Meryton in his Tilbury. The state of modern medicine had been rather an eye-opener for Georgiana but she had bravely kept her countenance throughout. The ladies had just finished their tour when a footman arrived to advise Dr Gregory he was needed urgently at home.

  "I beg your pardon, Miss Darcy. My wife has taken a fall at home. I must be off to check on her welfare. Please make use of my office until your brother arrives," he said, retrieving his hat and coat from the cupboard beneath the stairs.

  Georgiana thanked him as he hurried away, before noticing a large pickling jar that occupied a niche beside the cupboard.

  "Good gracious!" she said, jumping, "Is that a snake?"

  "Yes, it is an Ass-kleppian snake," replied Lydia, before opening the door to Dr Gregory's office.

  "Oh," said Georgiana, none the wiser.

  "Mr Jones keeps it because it is like the patron snake of apothecaries," lisped Lydia.

  "Oh," repeated Georgiana, unaware that professions had patron snakes.

  "It came from Longbourn, and there is a funny story associated with it. Did your brother tell you?"

  "My brother?" said Georgiana, following Lydia into Dr Gregory's office. She observed it looked like a very comfortable study and had a nice view of a garden.

  "I was chasing Kitty with that snake one day when your brother came to visit. Our goat started following us, and your brother's dog ended up chasing both the goat and Kitty into the house."

  "Oh, I know!" clapped Georgiana. "The goat jumped onto the piano! Kitty told me at the wedding! Yes, I teased Fitzwilliam mercilessly about that."

  "Yes! It was such fun! And Mary didn't mind at all when she got the new piano! On the whole, a very good use for a dead snake!"

  This statement somewhat surprised Georgiana, but she smiled politely nonetheless as she settled into a chair.

  "I also used one of its babies to get my revenge on a militia officer before his regiment left for Brighton," continued Lydia. "He was a very handsome and charming lieutenant, but he dropped me like a hot brick when another girl with a ten thousand pound dowry arrived in Meryton."

  "Oh! That is too bad!" sympathised Georgiana.

  "Oh, it does not signify. I got even with Lieutenant George Wickham!"

  "George Wickham?" repeated Georgiana, slightly pale.

  "Why yes, you might know him! He came from Derbyshire. He said some nasty things about your brother, which I'm sure must be false, because I know now what a rat George is."

  "Yes," stammered Georgiana.

  "I hid a snake in his bed!" confided Lydia.

  "What?!" cried Georgiana, not sure if she had heard correctly.

  Lydia leaned in to whisper in her ear.

  When Elizabeth arrived in Dr Gregory's office shortly afterwards, she found Georgiana with tears streaming down her face.

  "Are you all right, Georgiana?" she asked, somewhat alarmed.

  "Oh yes," said Georgiana, red-faced, "Lydia has just told me a very funny story; that is all."

  "Where is Dr Gregory?" asked Elizabeth, looking around.

  "He had to go off to tend to some emergency with his wife," replied Lydia offhandedly.

  Darcy was waiting to hand them in when they arrived back at the carriage.

  On the journey back to Longbourn, Georgiana and Lydia proceeded to exchange glances occasionally, which invariably resulted in them bursting into peals of laughter. Halfway back to Longbourn, Georgiana got the hiccups.

  Darcy could not imagine what had come over his sister.

  Chapter 54: The rectory

  When the Darcy carriage arrived back at Longbourn for lunch they were ushered into the parlour where they were introduced to Longbourn's rector. Mr Delaney was an old man who had been appointed in his youth by Mr Bennet's father. He had never married.

  After a tasty but awkward lunch, during which Mr Bennet made several barbed comments about religion, Darcy and Lizzy walked back to the rectory to take tea with the cleric.

  "Please forgive my father, Mr Delaney," said Elizabeth as they walked along. "He hasn't been in the best of moods this week."

  "Do not worry yourself, Miss Elizabeth. I think I'm aware of your father's point of view by now, my dear," replied the rector.

  Mr Bennet never attended church. It was his wife and daughters who filled the front right pew reserved for them every Sunday. Mrs Bennet was not a religious woman, but she knew what the villagers expected of her as Mistress of Longbourn, even if her husband cared not a whit for their sensibilities. Mr Delaney was not phased by Mr Bennet's attitude–his own father had not much respected religion either.

  The rectory was snug and furnished in a manner that spoke of comfort rather than of elegance. The parlour bore more the appearance of a library.

  "You seem to be quite a scholar, Mr Delaney," said Mr Darcy, looking around.
/>   "Indeed, you might expect that Mr Bennet and I would be good friends; but alas, we are both solitary creatures and our tastes in books very infrequently coincide. Mr Bennet favours philosophy and the classics, whereas I prefer botany and zoology."

  Mr Darcy now perceived the many framed drawings of plants that filled one wall.

  Mr Delaney pointed out a chest of shallow drawers that stood beneath them. "That chest houses my insect collection. Would you care to see them?"

  Darcy nodded and the rector pulled out the second drawer. "These are my favourites, the dragonflies. I am not fleet enough to catch them any more, but the village boys occasionally bring me a nice specimen."

  He pulled out the top drawer to reveal several dozen pinned butterflies. "Most people prefer the pretty butterflies, but I have always been fascinated by the transparent wings of dragonflies, and the amazing way they move."

  "They are both very beautiful," remarked Lizzy, fascinated. Though she had occasionally been in this room before, the contents of these drawers had never been revealed to her.

  Mrs Hay, one of the village women who kept house for Mr Delaney, entered with the tea. The rector shut the drawers and motioned them to the table. A plate of scones duly appeared.

  "So Miss Elizabeth," said Mr Delaney as Mrs Hay poured, "the second Bennet sister is to walk to the altar within a twelve-month of the first. I am not surprised. You are all exceptionally pretty."

  "Thank you, sir," said Lizzy demurely.

  She had never been very close to the rector, who kept himself apart from both the villagers and the Bennets. She knew he was an earl's son who had given up his inheritance in order to study theology. She could not imagine why he had chosen Longbourn when much more valuable livings must have been open to him. In fact, Mr Delaney had taken a lover at Oxford during his studies there as a gentleman and had never recovered from his premature death. He had turned to religion shortly afterwards.

  Handing Mr Darcy his tea, Mr Delaney directed his attention towards him. "I must admit I am surprised you have chosen to be wed from Longbourn, Mr Darcy. Most men of your stature would be wed from St George's Hanover Square."

  "I have no wish for a society wedding, Mr Delaney. My parents are dead and with the exception of my cousin, who I hope will stand up with me, I doubt any of my relations will attend."

  Mr Delaney nodded. Either Mr Darcy's family was as close as his had been–not, or this was going to be a rather rushed affair. He wondered briefly if the bride was pregnant.

  "Well, the church has had a very good year from marriages, Mr Darcy. Your friend Mr Bingley allowed us to fix the roof: over twenty broken slates were replaced and the lead renewed."

  "Yes, Mr Delaney, and I would be pleased to forward your next project, whatever that may be."

  "I would very much like to replace the cracked bell in the bell tower, but it will be expensive."

  "Then a new bell you shall have, sir."

  The rector nodded in satisfaction. Like Mr Bennet, he also had a copy of Debrett's and had acquainted himself with Mr Darcy's lineage as soon as the invitation to dine at Longbourn had been issued. He knew the extent of Mr Darcy's estates and was glad his generosity extended to his bride's village. Many of the young heirs these days merely gambled away their fortunes.

  "Excellent, then we should get down to details. When do you plan to wed?"

  Mr Delaney would not have raised his eyebrows if Mr Darcy had produced a special licence and nominated tomorrow, but he was surprised when that gentleman declared an indeterminate date in the new year.

  "Elizabeth is helping Dr Gregory with the new hospital," Darcy explained. "She does not wish to depart until his new partner arrives from Edinburgh."

  "So the date is contingent upon his arrival?" asked the rector.

  "With an appropriate settling-in period," added Elizabeth.

  Interesting, thought the rector, is it possible she is a reluctant bride? With this man, who seems to be the epitome of male comeliness and virility?

  "Very well," replied Mr Delaney; "for a new bell, I am completely at your service, Mr Darcy. Once the banns are read, a day's notice will suffice. Everything else can be rearranged to suit your convenience."

  Darcy nodded with satisfaction.

  "So, when shall we read the banns?" asked the rector.

  Darcy had been ready for this question and interjected smoothly, "Mrs Bennet is eager to have the banns read early."

  The rector pulled his bible towards himself and retrieved a sheaf of paper stuck inside.

  "There is no rush," added Elizabeth, blushing.

  "Of course not," said Mr Delaney, picking up a quill from a sideboard. "But I'm getting a little forgetful in my old age. I recommend we start this Sunday," he said, making a note on the paper. "Then it will be all done by Christmas, ready for the new year."

  He tucked the sheaf back inside, being careful not to blot the ink.

  "Have you any thoughts on the length of the ceremony? A sermon? The number of hymns?"

  "We have not yet discussed it," said Darcy, looking at Elizabeth, "but given Mr Bennet's, eh, predilections, perhaps a short ceremony would be advisable?"

  Mr Delaney nodded his concurrence.

  Mr Darcy and the rector conversed knowledgeably of botany until tea was finished, at which point Darcy withdrew an envelope from his waistcoat and handed it to the rector, who immediately ascertained its contents through the paper.

  "Thank you, my son," said Mr Delaney, proffering it back, "but there is no need until after the ceremony."

  "Consider it a down payment," said Darcy. "There is no time to start on a new bell like the present."

  Mr Delaney smiled. He really liked this boy, and he thought he understood the source of Mr Bennet's irritability: he didn't. He had suspected for years that Elizabeth was Mr Bennet's favourite daughter. Now a man who rivalled him in intelligence, and eclipsed him in management, was taking her away.

  Well, thought Mr Delaney, perhaps he might better appreciate his remaining daughters…

  As they walked back towards Longbourn, Darcy requested Elizabeth's company on a walk and, instead of returning to the house, they set off through the garden.

  "I must be off to Derbyshire tomorrow. I spoke to your father last night, and he agreed to your spending a week with me in London to prepare for the wedding."

  Inwardly, Lizzy sighed. She could ill afford the time away from the hospital, but she knew the wedding clothes must be bought. She had no wish to inflict the making of them on her sisters. Jane's wedding had been enough for this year. But she had secretly hoped that her father would naysay the expedition. She felt uncomfortable staying at the Darcy townhouse, even if Georgiana and her companion were there. Unfortunately the proposed trip was necessary, since Darcy had insisted they use Georgiana's modiste in Bond Street.

  "I'm surprised Papa agreed. I thought he would insist I stay with my aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street," she replied.

  "His only stipulation was that Mary accompany us."

  Elizabeth smiled at the irony. Of all her sisters, Mary was the least interested in finery and excursions. Still, she appeared to have enjoyed her previous stay in Georgiana's company.

  When they had passed through the garden and started on the trail to Oakham Mount, Darcy took her hand. "I've written to Bingley. I hope to convince him and your sister to accompany me back from the North. He has some business to conduct in London, so it may be possible."

  "It would be good to see Jane again," agreed Elizabeth. "I miss her so."

  When they reached the heights, Elizabeth gave a contented sigh. The air always smelled fresher up here for some reason: perhaps it was just the effect of the breeze. It had been far too long since she'd had time to climb Oakham Mount.

  Darcy moved to embrace her from behind as she stared into the fields below. Elizabeth was the correct height for him to rest his chin upon her head. She felt so right.

  "Do you realize it is a year since the Netherfield
Ball?" he asked.

  "Yes," she said. "So much has changed."

  "Not so much," he replied. "I loved you then, and I still love you now."

  "Surely, not then," she scoffed.

  "Why else would I ask you to dance twice?" he replied, twisting her so he could look into her eyes.

  "Shades of Charlotte! How was I to guess? You were so rude!"

  "Was I? I didn't want to admit that I loved you," he said, his eyes aflame.

  "I was such a fool to needle you about Wickham. I thought I only wanted to know the truth, but I should have known better than to believe his lies in the first place. I always thought myself such a good judge of character!"

  "I don't think you are such a bad judge of character. You probably had never encountered a practiced deceiver like him before. You will be wiser next time," he said gently.

  "Charlotte had smoked him."

  "Your friend is very perspicacious," he said, as he lowered his lips towards hers.

  "Do you know," he murmured from the back of his throat, "I made love to you all that night, in my dreams."

  She blushed a fiery red as he kissed her, and he felt the heat rise from her skin in a wave. Darcy pulled away as he fought the blood rearranging itself in his own body.

  Soon, he promised himself.

  In the late afternoon, Darcy reluctantly returned to Netherfield. He took with him a trunk of Jane's, which would be added to his baggage. He had decided to have dinner with the soldiers at the hospital, so that he could retire early, in order to be off at daybreak for Derbyshire.

  At sunrise, Darcy posted north as fast as his horse would carry him, leaving his stallion at the first posting house for his groom to ride home. With four horses harnessed, his carriage could have kept pace; but his valet, Finn, did not like being jolted about, preferring to follow in easy stages.