I Met Mr Darcy Via Luton

by Fredrica Edward

  "Oh, no, Lizzy! It is wonderful! Charles is such a wonderful husband in so many ways!"

  Lizzy briefly wondered what had gone wrong for her parents before veering away from that precipice. "I am so glad, Jane."

  Lizzy was not sure she should broach the obvious next question, but her evil genius prompted. "How do you think Mr Bingley knows these things, Jane?"

  "He said he went to an establishment with his friends from university to finish their education."

  "An educational establishment?" repeated Lizzy.

  "Yes, and the ladies wear things like that," said Jane, touching her creation, "only more sophisticated because they are professionally made on the Continent."

  Lizzy wondered briefly whether Darcy's former mistress occupied an educational establishment.

  Jane grasped her hand. "I told you that things worked out well on our wedding night, but I want you to know that it has all got so much better since then, and now I am with child!"

  "Oh Jane, that is wonderful news! Charles must be over the moon!"

  "He is, but we've decided not to tell Mama yet because I don't want her to fuss."

  "Perfectly understandable!" Lizzy laughed.

  "Charles isn't going to tell his sisters either. Not until they stop being beastly. They haven't answered any of his correspondence, and Charles says if they don't correct their behaviour soon, then he is going to stop Caroline's allowance."

  "Oh, dear!" said Lizzy, unhappy that her sister was being disrespected but frankly unsurprised. "Is it because of us?" she asked.

  "Charles says it is because he has gone back to business rather than relying solely on investments, but I think it is a bit of both."

  "I saw Caroline the other day," confessed Lizzy. "She snubbed me at Gunter's."

  "Do you think she knows about you and Mr Darcy? It seems a strange thing for her to do if she does. I can't imagine she would want to lose the connection."

  "Who knows? I've never understood her." replied Lizzy.

  "I'm sure she must not know!" said Jane.

  "Oh, Jane! You understand Caroline even less than I do!" Lizzy laughed. "You are like chalk and cheese!"

  "I suppose you are right, but as she is my sister-in-law, I feel I should make an effort to understand her."

  "Impossible!" said Lizzy, "I'm sure she is a changeling!"

  They both laughed.

  Half an hour later they heard the gentlemen come in, and Jane returned to her room to freshen up for dinner.

  Well, thought Lizzy as she packed her present in her trunk, that conversation was very revealing, no pun intended: my shy elder sister seems to have largely conquered her maidenly sensibilities.

  Lizzy's courage rose: surely she could do the same!

  Chapter 62: The Baluchistan hound

  "Well, Miss Elizabeth!" said Charles Bingley as they sat down to dinner, "how good it is to see you again! You must think me terribly remiss. I have paid hardly any attention to you, but let me say how much it pleases me that we shall be brother and sister!"

  Jane smiled adoringly at her husband.

  "Thank you, Mr Bingley," replied Elizabeth. "I can think of no other man I would rather call brother, but you must call me Elizabeth."

  "And you must call me Charles!" he said as the soup was placed before him.

  "Please forgive me for being in a such a foul mood yesterday. I'm afraid Argos was not all to blame for my less than sunny temper. We've been having a bit of a rough time at the foundry, and I came here principally to raise capital, but Darcy has waved his magic wand and set all to rights!"

  "Indeed!" said Elizabeth, giving her fiancé an arch look, "I was not aware he had a magic wand."

  Darcy almost choked on his soup. Was he mistaken, or was there a mischievous look in her eye? Perhaps he should just get his mind out of the gutter?

  A welcome distraction was provided by Georgiana: "I bought the most beautiful pair of mules today, brother!"

  Darcy looked at her in confusion.

  "Shoes, brother!" said Georgiana.

  "Oh!" he replied, smiling at her. "A pair of donkeys didn't seem likely."

  "A mule," said Mary, immediately perceiving his error, "is the offspring of a jack and a mare, whereas a donkey…"

  "Indeed, Mary," interposed Jane. "Mr Darcy was merely speaking imprecisely."

  "To be sure," added Bingley with a smile, always happy to get a jab in at his more erudite friend. "It is a problem with these fellows who were educated at Cambridge. Did you purchase any shoes, Miss Mary?"

  The rest of the meal passed in discussing the minutiae of the ladies' shopping trip before they all moved to the parlour to take tea. This was served with the macaroons that were purchased at Gunter's.

  "As much as I love Mrs Reynolds' macaroons, Darcy," said Bingley, "I am continually amazed at the flavours they manage to put into these things at Gunter's. They're moreish."

  Everyone agreed, and they soon polished off the dozen that had been purchased.

  Mary and Georgiana moved to the piano as soon as could be deemed politely possible, and the two happy couples spent a companionable hour playing whist to the sound of their music before Bingley once more suppressed a yawn.

  Given Jane's late arrival at the breakfast table that morning, Elizabeth was reasonably sure of the source of his fatigue.

  They all agreed to retire, and once more Darcy discreetly delayed Elizabeth, whispering closely to her ear, "May I come in an hour?" before immediately regretting his choice of words.

  Fortunately her maidenly knowledge did not extend to any innuendo on his thoughtless phrase, and she merely gave a slight nod.

  Darcy reflected that his session in the bath that morning hadn't been entirely effective. Perhaps he would need to start bathing in cold water for the remainder of Elizabeth's stay? He wondered what Finn would make of that request.

  An hour later, as Darcy entered the secret stair, he could only be glad that Bingley was so enamoured of his wife. Although he had originally encouraged Charles to travel to London during Elizabeth's stay so his wife could lend her sister countenance, he had realised that his plan might interfere with his hopes of spending time alone with Elizabeth.

  Darcy had removed his cravat, and Finn had divested him of his coat and his boots before retiring. If he had expected to find Elizabeth in her nightgown, he was disappointed–she was sitting fully clothed on the chaise longue and had merely removed her shoes.

  He placed his candle on the mantel, sat down beside her, and sought her hand.

  "I hope I did not make you choke on your soup, Fitzwilliam," she said innocently.

  "You little vixen! So you did do it on purpose!" replied Darcy.

  "I'm afraid that such an opportunity for a laugh is not to be missed!"

  "I knew it!" said Darcy.

  "Knew what?" enquired Elizabeth. "That country maids are saucy?"

  "Exactly," replied Darcy. "From the first time you made fun of me at Netherfield! I never knew how enticing it is to be roasted by a wench with sparkling eyes!"

  "Oh, ho! How the ladies of the Ton, would be distressed! They have been at such pains to flatter you, and all along you wanted to be teased!"

  "You are definitely a tease!" he retorted.

  She looked contrite and stroked his forearm over the linen of his shirt. "I'm sorry, Fitzwilliam. I fear I may have been provoking you yesterday with my hasty actions."

  He slipped an arm around her waist and, sidling closer to her, moved his lips to brush her ear. "Please feel free to provoke me," he murmured. "I will gladly bear your hasty actions or any saucy statement you care to fling at me."

  She shivered slightly as his hot breath caressed the lobe of her ear.

  Darcy felt his pulse race at her response, and when she turned her face to him, he captured her lips and caressed them softly with his own before pushing her gently backwards until she was reclining on the chaise.

  Elizabeth raised her knees to rest them against his thigh as he
pulled back to look into her eyes.

  "I love you, Elizabeth Bennet," said Darcy. "Why I tried to resist you I will never know. I must have rocks in my head."

  "No, just a lot of pride," she said, taking his free hand and placing it on her breast.

  His pulse raced again. "You're not wearing stays!" he exclaimed, feeling the nipple harden in his hand.

  "You seemed to be very eager to get them off the other day!" she retorted.

  He collapsed on top of her with a groan. After a short tussle on the chaise, they tumbled off onto the rug.

  Both seemed oblivious of their relocation.

  Finally, Darcy pushed away from her and rolled onto his back. "I think I'd better go now," he croaked.

  Elizabeth grasped his hand and rolled onto her back also. "Can't you stay for a while, just like this?"

  "You want to talk?"

  "I wanted to tell you that I was attracted to you from the start. I remember looking at you after Mr Bingley carried Jane off with her sprained ankle, thinking how tall and handsome you were. I remember playing chess with you and thinking what beautiful hands you had. But you were so haughty. By the time we finished our chess game, I was determined to make you notice me, as a woman."

  He smiled to himself, incredibly flattered. He had been sure that when every woman looked at him they merely saw a pound symbol tattooed to his forehead. Was he handsome? He had merely thought himself to be well dressed. Everyone commented on that.

  "You almost won that game," he remembered. "I was despairing over my next move."

  "I did win the game," she retorted. "I was one move from checkmate. There was no escape."

  "No," he said, rolling towards her and placing his fingers on her lips. "No escape."

  Darcy pulled her towards him, aligning their bodies and finding her lips. He clasped her to him, rolling to bring her on top. Her weight on his loins was exquisite. As they squeezed and caressed each other, his hips began to instinctively grind against her.

  Her breathing had become very ragged and then he heard her moan.

  That nearly undid him. He rolled to put her back on the floor and grabbed her shoulders to push her away. "I'd better go," he reiterated.

  Elizabeth nodded, and they attempted to stand, both a little unsteady on their feet. "Goodnight, Fitzwilliam," she said, looking adorably dishevelled.

  Darcy retrieved his candle from the mantelpiece. With a final kiss on her forehead, he retreated to the wardrobe.

  "Goodnight, sweet Elizabeth."

  On Friday morning, Elizabeth woke to the sound of her piano birds. Feeling strangely excited and refreshed, she rang the bell and bounded out of bed.

  When she arrived in the morning room, Fitzwilliam was at table, and Argos lay underneath it, eating a rasher of bacon. The dog thumped his tail in greeting.

  "Good morning, Fitzwilliam," she said, taking a swift glance around to check the coast was clear and then pecking him on the nose.

  He smiled. "Good morning, Elizabeth."

  "And good morning to you, Argos!" Elizabeth said, as she poured herself a cup of tea. More thumps were heard from under the table.

  A footman appeared, and she gave him her order before looking under the table and declaring, "I promise you, Argos, I shall take you out directly after breakfast! I feel so guilty for fobbing you off on a footman yesterday, especially when you were brought here as my noble escort!"

  "Is there any room for a third party on this expedition?" asked Darcy.

  "Of course!" replied Elizabeth. "Do you not have business to attend to?"

  "No more trips to the City. Just some correspondence that can be dealt with later."

  Elizabeth’s breakfast had just arrived when Mary and Georgiana entered the room.

  "You didn't let us know you were coming down to breakfast, Lizzy," remonstrated Mary.

  "You sounded so happy playing the piano I didn't want to disturb you," responded her sister.

  "Of course, Mary," said Georgiana, faking petulance; "she has Argos as a chaperone now, so she doesn't need us anymore!"

  "You are more than welcome to accompany us as we take Argos for a walk," replied Elizabeth, and Darcy concurred.

  Georgiana responded enthusiastically–Mary less so. By the time the younger ladies had finished their chocolate and brioches, the Bingleys had still not made an appearance.

  "I propose we walk out while we can still take the morning air," said Darcy. "I'll leave directions with a footman, so the Bingleys can join us if they wish."

  After donning their coats, the footman opened the door. Argos jerked his leash as soon as he saw daylight through the aperture. Heading along Grosvenor Street, they had just crossed Park Lane and headed southwest along the footpath in the direction of the ponds when a carriage entered the park behind them. They were blissfully unaware that it contained Caroline Bingley.

  The carriage turned to the left upon entering the Grosvenor Gate and proceeded south along the avenue towards The Ring. It was way too early to be fashionable, but a few other coaches were about, mostly carrying young ladies and their mamas hoping to catch the eye of gentlemen exercising their horses.

  Sitting opposite her cavalier, the Viscount Waltham, in his barouche, Caroline's eyes widened when she spotted Mr Darcy and his sister walking in Hyde Park in the company of those encroaching Bennets.

  She had snubbed those rustics the other day when they had dared to enter Gunter's. Their presence in Mayfair, outside their proper milieu, had so annoyed her that she had failed to perceive dear Georgiana early enough to engage her before she departed. Imagine Caroline's shock when she had seen the Darcy carriage draw up and Georgiana usher the Bennets inside it.

  She supposed she could thank her dear brother for bringing the encroaching mushrooms into Mr Darcy's orbit instead of leaving them on Cheapside where they belonged!

  Caroline had gone straight home from Gunter's and opened the latest of her brother's ink-splattered missives, which lay, still sealed, on her dressing table. She found that he and his provincial wife were indeed planning a trip to London. So! two of the younger sisters had arrived along with them like barnacles. No doubt they were imposing upon the poor Darcys!

  As the barouche turned west along the south drive of the park, she glanced over at the viscount. What a disappointment he had turned out to be! On the whole, she had been very pleased when she'd attracted his attention at Almack's over two weeks ago. At first glance he looked well enough, dressed in the latest mode; but indolent and thirty, he was just starting to run to fat, which his tailor disguised well; and his beaver admirably hid the loss of most of the hair on the top of his head.

  Enquiries into his affairs had been even less propitious. Apparently his father was only twenty years older than he; having being forced into matrimony by his grandfather, the fifth earl, almost straight out of university to ensure the succession. When the sixth earl had acceded to the title and the estate ten years ago, he had plunged into a most dissolute life of vice and gambling, freed from the guiding hand of his anxious father. The lifestyle of the current earl threatened to bankrupt the estate; and the only hope the viscount had of receiving anything but a title lay in the earl's untimely demise, which was not altogether unlikely despite his young age, due to his unhealthy habits. In short, the viscount's pockets were to let, and the only comfort Miss Bingley could expect from matrimony to him in the immediate future was the title of Lady Waltham.

  No, the viscount would not do, and it was either back to Almack's or have another crack at Mr Darcy; who, having recently spent most of his time out of town, had been très elusif.

  Unbeknownst to Caroline, the viscount's musings were of a similar unsatisfactory nature. He had heard that Miss Bingley had a dowry of twenty thousand pounds, and he'd been pleasantly surprised when an introduction had been effected at Almack's: she wasn't ugly at all!–a trifle tall and angular, but certainly no antidote. Unfortunately in the space of a few calls and a couple of outings, she had quickly demonst
rated she was a shrew. Still, he didn't have many options at the moment, and he had suggested the early morning outing to avoid the company of his friends.

  The viscount looked over at Miss Bingley now as she sat on the forward-facing seat. She was ridiculously overdressed for an excursion to the park in an orange silk dress, with a black beaver decorated with the feathers of a bird of paradise perched upon her head. He would not have been surprised if the hat had cost upwards of thirty guineas.

  An idea was forming in Caroline’s head under that outrageous hat. She was thinking she could ingratiate herself to Mr Darcy by coming to his rescue in the viscount's carriage. She could whisk the Darcys off and leave the Bennets to walk back to wherever they came from alone. After all, Miss Eliza Bennet did like walking, did she not?

  Feigning surprise, Miss Bingley caught the viscount's attention. "Oh, Viscount, I do believe I saw Miss Darcy!"

  The viscount's ears pricked up.

  "Indeed?" he said, glancing around. Georgiana Darcy was not yet out, but he knew her dowry would be even better than Miss Bingley's. Provided she didn't look a cow, she might make a very eligible wife.

  He saw three young ladies, all of them well looking, in company with Mr Darcy. He supposed Miss Darcy was one of the younger ones. Probably the tall one dressed in that expensive-looking redingote.

  "I have not seen Darcy at White's this age!" he exclaimed, indicating to the coachman to stop.

  Handing Miss Bingley down, they headed over to join the strollers.

  As the dog walkers neared the ponds, Argos spotted the waterfowl and made several spirited attempts to dash off in their direction, which Elizabeth foiled by digging her new walking boots into the earth. Darcy offered to take the troublesome hound from his betrothed several times, but she refused. If truth be told, he was rather enjoying watching her athletic manoeuvres to keep the dog in order, especially now her lace had slipped.

  Caroline had almost got within hailing distance when a gust of wind plucked her beaver from her head and set it rolling along the ground towards the Darcys.