Chapter 24 #2
It was half past ten when Darcy arrived at the door to Ted Bennet’s office at the University of Meryton.
Too late for coffee, too early for lunch.
He’d had Sara call to check the man’s schedule, but the Classics Department library had no central office or secretary, and he’d determined it was best not to leave a voicemail message since Elizabeth’s father seemed as likely to avoid him as to deepen his grudge against him.
So he was counting on Ted being on campus and in his office on Wednesdays.
He’d been happy to ride along with Rudy and Elizabeth to her office after convincing her he had a meeting at the airport.
One white lie in service of a greater purpose. She’d know the truth soon enough.
He’d taken a stroll around the campus, wanting to see his girl’s old stomping grounds and, if he was completely honest, to steel himself for Mr. Bennet’s acerbic wit.
He hoped to see something more than mere humor in Ted Bennet, to glimpse sincere paternal love for his daughter.
Darcy knew he was far from a perfect man, but he was improving every day with Elizabeth, and he knew he would do whatever it took to be his true, best self with his children.
No child of his would ever feel the hurt and embarrassment he’d seen too often on Elizabeth’s beautiful face.
He took a breath and knocked.
An exasperated and familiar voice beckoned. “Whoever needs to bother me may enter. Those who know too much, run away now.”
Darcy rolled his eyes and turned the doorknob.
“Hello, Mr. Bennet.”
“Mr. Darcy, darkening my doorway?” Ted peered up from a book, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. “This must be important.”
Darcy glanced around the cramped room, books piled on tables and shelves, the floors covered with precarious stacks of thick tomes. The whole pace smelled of moldy paper and old coffee. He gestured toward a chair. “May I?”
“If you don’t mind moving a badly translated copy of Beowulf, be my guest,” Ted replied, a smirk supplanting the surprise that had appeared when he first saw Darcy.
“You’ve left the safe confines of Manhattan to venture to our bucolic land-grant campus. I dare say you’re not here to endow a chair or purchase tickets for next week’s performance of Marat/Sade.” Ted leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on a magnifier and his eyes on Darcy.
“Right on all counts as you know. I’m here to talk about Elizabeth.”
“Not Lydia, who has been requesting a $600 camera ever since your encouragement to her at the rehearsal dinner?”
“Lydia has an artist’s eye for composing a shot. She should be encouraged. Elizabeth and I hope to take her to the Steichen exhibit next month.”
“No praise for Mary?”
Fine, I’ll play your game. “Mary has a sharp, analytical mind. I enjoy discussing books with her. I look forward to hearing the outcome of that research project she’s joined on gender politics in education.” Darcy could tell Ted Bennet had no idea Mary was part of any academic study.
He leveled a serious look at the older man. “I’m happy to praise Jane as a lovely, smart, kind woman who can crunch numbers with finesse and accuracy. I’m pleased to know all three of them.”
“And happier still to know ‘she who has not been named?’” Ted chuckled at his joke while Darcy tamped down his ire.
“To know and love her, yes.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw as he debated stating his full feelings. “I love your daughter. She is the best woman—the smartest, kindest, most insightful woman—I’ve ever known.”
“Not the most beautiful?” Ted asked in a teasing voice.
Where does he get this attitude? As though he deserves any credit for his daughters’ accomplishments.
Darcy gritted his teeth. “I prefer to focus on her inner qualities, as it goes without saying that Elizabeth is the most beautiful and most interesting woman I’ve ever met.
But as you should know, she also is one who shies away from such compliments. ”
Ted nodded, though he looked surprised at Darcy’s statement. “Ah. And she is the reason for your cold call upon my door.”
“Of course she is.” Darcy leaned forward, determined to hold the man’s gaze. “I’ve known Elizabeth for nearly a year now, and I’ve loved her nearly as long. She loves me as well. We make each other happy, and I plan to ask her to be my wife.”
“Does she know this?”
“It’s unlikely to surprise her.”
“Are you here doing the proper thing, asking for my blessing so you may propose to her?”
“I’m here doing the proper thing, the twenty-first century thing, of informing you that I plan to ask her in the future. I don’t know you well, and you don’t know me, but I believe in following certain customs.”
“Such as getting my blessing.” Ted removed his reading glasses and tapped them against his desk.
“In truth, I don’t need your blessing, and I dare say, neither does Elizabeth.” Darcy could feel his patience slipping. “But I do hope that she will not be hurt by your reaction, that you will be happy for her and express those feelings.”
“You presume quite a bit, Mr. Darcy.”
“Perhaps I do. But I know your daughter better than anyone else does. I know the depth and extent of Elizabeth’s feelings for me and for all of you, as well as the accompanying joys, hurts, and slights.”
Ted rubbed his chin and looked past Darcy. “So I should just accept the inevitable.”
“As there is no rational reason to say no, the answer, of course, is obvious: to accept, graciously and happily, that your daughter is loved well by a good man who will support her in her dreams and wishes. Because I do, and I will. Isn’t that what every father wants for his child?”
A look of resignation swept over the older man. “Yes, it is. And I believe you do. She deserves it, deserves you. Take care of her, Mr. Darcy.” He put his glasses on and picked up his discarded book.
Rather than feeling dismissed, Darcy felt all the awkwardness of the man before him, accepting not just the loss of his daughter but the recognition of how little his opinion now meant to her. He stood.
“Mr. Bennet, when she tells you—if and when she accepts me—I hope you’ll convey that sentiment to her as well.”
Darcy extended his hand. Ted nodded and grasped the younger man’s hand and shook it. He sat in his chair, staring at the closed door for nearly half an hour after his visitor left.
Two days later, during an after-dinner walk on a late October night, Darcy led Elizabeth to a pretzel stand in Central Park.
He made a purchase and handed the bag to her.
She shook her head, claiming that she was full from dinner, but upon receiving his mockingly exasperated look, she reached inside the bag to find two salt-covered tickets for skybox seats on the fifty-yard line for Saturday’s big University of Meryton vs.
Ramsgate College football game. She squealed and threw her arms around his neck.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart. We’ll celebrate quietly as you wished. All right?”
She agreed but was soon to learn the man was not true to his word.
Elizabeth woke up on her birthday Saturday morning and reached for him, only to find a flat black velvet box on the empty pillow beside her and Darcy at the foot of the bed watching Yogi and Carmen bat at a garish birthday balloon.
She laughed at the scene; he looked as expectant as a little boy on Christmas morning.
“Hey, Birthday Girl.”
She returned his smile. “I’m beginning to suspect you did a crash course at Birthday Fairy College.” She sat up, took a deep breath, and opened the box to find a simple but stunning necklace inside.
“Oh, my God. It’s too much,” she gasped, staring at the emerald offset by a pair of diamonds.
“No, never.” Darcy went to her and fastened the jeweled strand around her neck. “Your eyes are like emeralds; your light is like diamonds.” He blushed. “I’m no poet, but you know what I mean. Happy birthday, my love.”
“Oh, thank you, Will,” she croaked, her eyes moist. “It’s beautiful. But I think I need coffee,” she added suddenly. “I don’t want to cry.”
“Tears are no way to start your birthday,” he agreed quietly, his finger tilting her chin up. He tenderly kissed away a stray tear and smiled. “Coffee and waffles, coming up. We have a busy day.”
It had been easy coming up with the idea of taking Elizabeth to a UM football game.
Not only were the Yankees out of the playoffs, but Meryton’s women’s soccer team was playing an away game.
Besides, she’d confided weeks ago that she didn’t really like watching her old team play.
Memories of her career-ending injury remained too raw.
It had taken no little thought and planning for Darcy to pull off the tickets and the rest of his plan.
He’d found it a wonderful challenge, especially after Elizabeth had made his birthday so memorable with the unspeakably special gifts, the afternoon at the Frick, and a quiet celebratory dinner with Charles and Jane.
He’d planned a few surprises for her too. After she finished breakfast, he led her to the foyer, where she found a box full of UM half-zip black sweatshirts, orange and black striped scarves, and for him, orange socks.
She was thoughtful enough to refrain from posting pictures of him in his new sweatshirt but not kind enough to stop taking them. “Ha,” she said, “if only Charlotte could see this.”