Every Savage Dances with Honour and Decorum

Chapter 1

Hertfordshire had turned out to be the worst place in the whole of England, Darcy mused as he spurred on his stallion.

Wherever he turned, every single day, something unpleasant happened.

He had come to support Bingley in settling into the property he had let, but he had soon come to regret his decision.

Darcy had been in Hertfordshire for only a few weeks, yet his life had become a disaster. He had lost his self-control, his self-confidence, and his patience as well as his enjoyment of little things like reading in peace or riding in the morning.

He could not stay indoors as Bingley’s sisters had become insupportable in their rudeness, stupidity, and ridiculous attempts to draw his attention towards the younger of the pair, Miss Caroline Bingley.

Out of doors, he was painfully aware of Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s presence only three miles away; he could not stop thinking about her, regardless of the distance, but being close to her was exceptionally disturbing.

Even at the present time, having escaped Netherfield for a ride, his horse seemed to be taking him closer to her home of Longbourn, as if led by Darcy’s secret desires.

Desires that he had refused to acknowledge for weeks, then he had admitted them but had given them no serious thought until he was forced to accept he had fallen in love with a young woman whom he had not found tolerable enough to dance with on their first meeting.

Perhaps fate had a strange sense of humour and was trying to punish him for his rudeness at that fateful assembly — which he should not have agreed to attend in any case.

Truly, Bingley could be so persistent and annoying at times that Darcy would say and do anything just to be left alone.

That was why he had reluctantly accompanied his friend to the dance and then had refused to stand up with anyone he was not acquainted with.

That had been mostly Bingley’s fault. However, how he had become intrigued, then enchanted, and finally attracted to Miss Elizabeth Bennet was still puzzling, but he had nobody to blame for it except himself — his infatuation had been fed by his weakness.

Yes, Miss Elizabeth Bennet was charming, witty, pretty in a most delightful way — especially her lively eyes!

— candid, and clever. She was worthy of admiration, but to be caught in that sort of infatuation, to be incapable of taking his mind off her, was certainly proof of a weakness in his character.

It was a flaw he had never suspected yet was now forced to admit.

He had spent several days in her company at Netherfield; it had been a sweet torture having her so close, and his enjoyment of her presence had been ruined by his mortifying dreams, which he was too ashamed to remember.

A gentleman should not entertain such idle fancies about another gentleman’s daughter.

Therefore, when the eldest Miss Bennet’s health improved and the sisters returned to Longbourn, Darcy’s relief was stronger than any other feeling.

But the distance proved to be no match for his infatuation, as he continued thinking about and dreaming of her.

As if those circumstances had not been tormenting enough, the disaster had worsened with the shocking presence of George Wickham — the abominable scoundrel Darcy had hoped he would never see again.

Encountering him in the middle of Meryton, chatting animatedly with the Bennet sisters — especially Elizabeth — had made his blood boil and his resentment threaten to overcome his self-control.

Luckily, he had turned and left immediately, but two days had passed since then, and his turmoil was just as great.

The Netherfield ball would be held in five days’ time, and afterwards, regardless of Bingley’s plans, Darcy would then leave Hertfordshire. The county was ruinous to his peace, and the farther he distanced himself from it, the better.

That morning, Bingley had ridden to Meryton to deliver invitations to Colonel Forster and the rest of the officers, but Darcy had declined to accompany him in order to avoid an encounter with Wickham.

Instead, he had chosen to take a long ride across the lands around the market town, hoping the exercise would lessen his anxiety.

After a while, he allowed his stallion to rest; he dismounted and sat on a stump, his back against an old oak, observing the scenery.

It was by no means unpleasant; however, the late November weather was not ideal for activities out of doors, and sitting still exposed him to the cold rather quickly.

Darcy was about to jump back into the saddle when his attention was caught by voices and laughter.

He looked behind him; there were two men and two women, walking and chatting.

A moment was enough for him to recognise Wickham and his fellow officer Denny.

With them were the youngest — and no doubt the silliest and most irritating — Bennet sisters, Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty.

Darcy had only met them a few times, but that was more than enough to observe their poor manners and lack of education.

“Mr Wickham, I hope you and all the officers will come to the ball. Every lady in Meryton wants to dance with you!”

“We certainly do not want to disappoint the ladies of Meryton, especially you and your sisters, Miss Lydia,” Wickham replied, and the girls giggled.

“We all know Lizzy is your favourite, but you cannot dance more than one set with her,” the girl continued.

“I do consider Miss Elizabeth a dear friend, but I assure you it would give me equal pleasure to dance with you.”

Darcy felt chills of anger as he heard the scoundrel’s insinuating voice. His mere mention of Elizabeth’s name made him shudder.

“How fortunate we met!” Miss Catherine added. “We were about to return home after visiting Maria Lucas and did not expect to have such a delightful escort.”

“The pleasure is ours, Miss Kitty,” Wickham said, and Denny agreed.

Darcy’s intention was to remain hidden and hope the group would pass by without noticing him.

Then, a peculiar and disturbing feeling changed his mind as he observed the two girls holding the men’s arms and realised they were walking on a rather secluded path.

The scene would have been acceptable if one of those men had not been George Wickham — someone who could hardly be called a gentleman and an officer.

The Bennet sisters must have been no more than sixteen and already smitten with the officers.

They were carelessly flirting, ignorant of the danger they exposed themselves to.

Neither of them was likely to possess a large enough dowry to tempt Wickham to marry them; but, as unfortunate as a marriage to such a man would be, George Wickham could easily ruin a young girl’s life and future in many other ways.

As little as Darcy cared about them or their insolent mother, he could not disregard a threat to any woman or do nothing about it. So, pulling his horse behind him, he stepped out onto the path.

“Good morning,” he said.

The group turned, and he saw Wickham’s disconcerted face.

“Mr Darcy!” Denny greeted him first. The two girls curtseyed with apparent displeasure.

Wickham mumbled in a low voice, “Good day.”

“Miss Catherine, Miss Lydia, are you alone?” Darcy enquired.

“No…I mean yes,” Miss Lydia answered. “We are returning home now, and Mr Wickham and Mr Denny offered to keep us company.”

“I see. Well, I happen to be going in the same direction. I hope you do not mind if I join you.”

Wickham’s face changed again, but Darcy remained calm.

“We would be delighted,” Denny said. “It is quite a coincidence we met.”

“Not really. This is the most direct route between Meryton and Netherfield. I enjoy riding this way, so the chances of such a meeting are not slight.”

“We often ride here too,” Denny continued. “Which is how we happened upon Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty.”

“I do not know why Mr Darcy wants to walk with us,” Miss Lydia interjected. “He does not like us — or anyone else, for that matter.”

Darcy frowned. “I assure you that is not true, Miss Lydia. My desire is to be sure you arrive home safely.”

“Why would we not be safe? We already have two gentlemen to escort us. And we walk to Meryton several times a week, so we know this path very well.”

“I am sure that is true, but I wish to speak to your father, nevertheless,” Darcy replied, steady to his purpose despite the obvious disapproval of his companions.

The group of four walked together, whispering to each other, while Darcy followed them. Wickham glanced back at him several times.

When they were close to Longbourn, the officers excused themselves and left.

The two young sisters ran inside, while Darcy took a moment to contemplate his next move and decide whether he should enter or not.

Very likely his presence had been noted, as he spotted a face at a window.

While his heart raced, he pondered that perhaps he would be better to leave.

However, he had little choice when the door opened and Mr Bennet appeared.

“Mr Darcy, I assume? I am Thomas Bennet. I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance yet.”

“Yes, sir. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy. Please forgive my unexpected visit. I would have waited for Bingley and called on you properly, if not for certain circumstances.”

“Do not worry, sir. I am pleased to meet you, regardless. Please come in. I was told you wished to speak to me.”

“Yes, please.”

“Then let us go to the library to avoid any distractions.”

Feeling rather uncomfortable, Darcy followed Mr Bennet, glancing about discreetly.

The house was appropriate for the small estate of a country gentleman — not exactly fashionable but comfortable enough.

He found himself wondering whether Elizabeth was at home and hoping to see her even for a moment.