31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
March 1812 Hunsford, Kent Darcy
S he was here. He could hardly believe it, but she was here! Darcy had no notion when he first saw Mr. Collins in the autumn that the man was in any way connected to Rosings Park. He had paid Miss Elizabeth a lot of attention during the Netherfield Ball, but since Darcy had never been introduced to the gentleman, there had been no opportunity to learn about their mutual connections.
And now Miss Lydia has become Mrs. Collins, he thought. I wonder why he did not settle on one of the older girls. Miss Jane Bennet, perhaps. She is mercenary enough that I would have thought her eager to put herself forward.
Mr. Collins was Mr. Bennet’s heir. It would be prudent for one of his girls to marry the man. At least it was not Miss Elizabeth.
When he last saw her in February, he had witnessed her with another gentleman in the park. He did not recognize the man. He had been dressed well and spoke with refinement. The son of a wealthy tradesman, perhaps. More disturbing to Darcy was the talk of a betrothal.
The man had intimated that he would propose to Elizabeth in June. Dismayed at the discovery, Darcy had fled to Derbyshire. He needed to be in his home to come to terms with his Elizabeth marrying another. The opposite had occurred, however, and he had soon learned that he could not tolerate the idea of Miss Elizabeth Bennet becoming anyone’s wife other than his own. It would simply not do. Since she would be unattached until the summer, he must act immediately. And so, years of expectations from his parents and his aunt and uncle were cast away in an instant. He would marry the penniless daughter of an insignificant country gentleman. There were no connections, no fortunes, that could fill the void in his heart that threatened to form should he choose to deny his love any longer.
He wished to return to London immediately upon his realization, but duty forced him to Kent instead. For years, he had overseen Rosings Park’s estate books. He came every year after the spring planting. This would be his last time aiding his aunt in this manner, and he wished to ensure all was as it should be before Rupert Metcalfe took over the task.
How very surprised he had been to see Miss Bennet in his aunt’s drawing room. She looked as lovely as he remembered, her fine eyes sparkling with good humor. He thought she looked happy to see him, but her greeting had been muted and sober.
Perhaps she did not wish the others to know her regard, he wondered. Lady Catherine was his least stringent relation when it came to marriage. But Elizabeth would not know that and would seek to protect herself from disapproval. I shall have to assure her of my aunt’s support. He could be certain that Lady Catherine would support him. She supported her daughter marrying beneath herself, after all.
In truth, Rupert Metcalfe was not beneath Anne in anything other than fortune. They were both descended from proud, noble lines. But his cousin could have married far better than she planned. And now Darcy would follow the same path.
Determined to find her as she walked, Darcy set out before breakfast. He knew Elizabeth to be an early riser, and he suspected she had left her bed long ago in favor of the peaceful outdoors.
Striding across the lawns, he headed for the wooded area that bordered Rosings Park. If he knew the lady as well as he thought he did, she would favor rough trails and little worn paths to the more traveled lanes that went through and around the village. Elizabeth would seek a place where nature had been left to itself, uninhibited by a more awkward taste.
He proved correct when he came upon her not ten minutes later. She sat on a log next to a little stream. A tune could be heard above the babbling brook. Pausing at the tree line, he watched her for a moment, admiring the curve of her shoulder. Her dark curls glistened in the sunlight from where they peeked out from under her bonnet.
A twig snapped under his boot as he stepped forward, and she looked up in surprise. She had a guarded look on her face that melted into a timid smile when she recognized him.
“Miss Bennet,” he greeted her, coming to the side of the log. “How do you do?”
“I am well, sir. It is a lovely morning.”
He smiled and sat on the log next to her. “I am very pleased to have found you.”
She turned to look at him. She did not return his smile, regarding him with something akin to suspicion. “I trust your business in the north was concluded satisfactorily?” she asked.
Ah, that explains it. She is upset that I departed without bidding her farewell. “Yes, I left rather suddenly,” he said aloud. “I missed our walks in the park.”
“Hmm,” was the only reply she gave. She instead stood up. “It is time that I make my way back to the parsonage.”
“May I accompany you?” he asked, almost too eagerly.
“If you like.” She took his offered arm, keeping a proper distance between them. Oh, how he longed to close the space so that her body brushed against his as they walked. He resisted, respecting her observance of propriety.
“How long are you visiting your sister?” he asked.
“I will return to London in April,” she replied. “My aunt and uncle want me to partake of the rest of the season. Mary awaits me there.”
“Did your sister not wish to visit Kent?”
“Mary had no desire to leave town,” Elizabeth said. “She has a particular reason for remaining with my aunt and uncle, and I would not see her disappointed. Lydia does not mind and does not see it as a slight.”
“Miss Mary is being courted?” He knew he pressed the bounds of acceptable conversation topics, but he could not resist. What if Miss Mary were to marry a tradesman? Could he tolerate any more low born relations than Miss Elizabeth already boasted?
“She is. I expect they will reach an understanding before too much longer. He is a good man, and they are very much in love.”
Love is well and good if poverty does not accompany it, he mused. It is good that my fortune is large enough to afford a poor wife.
“I was rather surprised to learn that your youngest sister has married,” he continued, putting a slight emphasis on the word youngest . His attempts to make conversation were awkward; even he could see that.
“Did you expect someone else to marry him?” she asked curiously.
“In truth? Yes, I thought Miss Jane Bennet would now be installed as the parsonage’s mistress.”
“Oh? I thought her affections were in another direction.” Elizabeth spoke softly, and he could not discern the emotion behind her words.
“I could not say,” he replied. “Rather, it seemed logical for your father’s heir to marry his eldest daughter.”
She paused, her steps slowing to a stop. He turned and saw her looking at him curiously. She seemed at war with some thought. Confusion and then resolve settled in her eyes.
“Jane is not my father’s eldest child,” she said finally. “I am.”
He gaped. “What?” he asked lamely.
She sighed. “Her real name has been all but forgotten over the years,” she said quietly. “Mrs. Bennet is my stepmother. My real mother died when I was but a small child.”
He thought he understood. “Mrs. Bennet did not wish for anyone to know her daughter was anything but a Bennet,” he said flatly. Oh, Bingley’s escape was luckier than he imagined.
His friend had first detected some duplicitousness on Miss Bennet’s part after the ball. Though he was very much in love with the lady, he had doubts that seemed to be confirmed by Miss Bennet’s flippant manner. So, he had gone to London to clear his head. Darcy and the Bingley sisters followed. There, they took advantage of his uncertainty and convinced him that his lady love was not all that she seemed, and that she entertained his attentions out of obligation to her family and hopes of securing a wealthy husband. It had not taken much to sway Bingley to their way of thinking.
“Pray, what should I call her?” he asked. “You are the rightful Miss Bennet.”
“Jane has been known by that appellation for so long that it hardly matters. You may continue calling me Miss Elizabeth.”
This pleased him, for he loved saying her name. “Very well. Why, then, are you not Mrs. Collins?”
“My father did not wish me to marry where there was no affection,” she said. “Lydia wished to do the honors, and I did not want to stand in her way. Everything has worked out for the best. Longbourn’s future is certain now, and we have no fear of the hedgerows.”
She spoke with humor, and Darcy detected some secret meaning behind her words. She did not seem worried about her future at all. Perhaps she has been expecting my addresses for some time. And that is why she entertains another offer… because she thought she had no hope with me. Oh, the dear girl.
The parsonage loomed ahead, and he slowed their steps, hoping to delay their parting. She released his arm and kept going, pausing to curtsey.
“I thank you for the escort, sir,” she said. “Until we meet again.”
He bowed and then watched her go into the parsonage before turning away. He walked slowly back to Rosings Park on the lane that ran between the rectory and the estate.
“Ho there!” Richard called to him from atop his horse. “Darcy, walking? Do you not usually ride the estate?” He dismounted and led the steed toward him.
“I confess to a preference for riding, but sometimes walking is just what a body needs to feel invigorated. I did not expect you to be out and about so early, cousin. What has you so spry this morning?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary. I am on leave for six weeks. The sooner we put the estate affairs in order, the sooner I can commence with complete laziness.” He grinned. “I must say, I did not expect to see such pleasant company at tea yesterday. How long have you known Miss Bennet and her sister?”
“I met them both in Hertfordshire last autumn.” He did not expound, choosing to give the simplest and most concise answer possible. Richard was no threat, of course. He needed a woman with a healthy dowry. But his very presence would make Darcy look bad; his cousin’s gregarious nature contrasted sharply with Darcy’s more sober countenance and manner.
“She is a lovely girl. I can see why you are attracted to her.”
Darcy coughed at the unexpected words, turning an incredulous eye on his cousin. “What…” he sputtered. “How…?”
“You looked like a moon-eyed calf yesterday, Darcy. I have never seen you look at a lady but to find a blemish. Instead of ignoring her as you do most ladies, you could not keep your eyes off her. Now, I must know, how long have you pined for her?”
Darcy groaned. “How can you ask me? I hardly know myself. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun, and now there is no way out. There is nothing for it now—I must marry her, or I will go mad. But I greatly fear our relations' reaction. They will not be pleased with my choice.”
Richard laughed. “Why ever not?” he asked.
“You have not met her family.” Darcy shook his head. “Mr. Bennet is a disinterested father. I scarcely saw him at more than three events. His wife is gauche and terribly unrefined—the daughter of a tradesman—a solicitor, if I recall. I have only just learned that the eldest daughter of the house has another father, which I suppose explains the lack of breeding I saw on her part. And the two youngest sisters are the worst sort of ladies. Completely lacking in refinement, loud, uncouth, improper, flirtatious… it is dreadful. Miss Mary and Miss Elizabeth I must excuse from my judgment. I have never seen them behave badly.”
Richard whistled. “And yet you would marry her in spite of it all? What would my mother say?” He chuckled.
“It is no laughing matter, Richard. I am aware of the degradation such an alliance would bring. Your mother and father will be the first to lecture me on my choice. Please, tell me I have an ally in you.”
“Of course. Lady Catherine will support your betrothal as well. If you love the lady, she will not stand in your way.”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Yes, she has long made her sentiments known. I cannot deny that.”
They continued their walk toward Rosings Park, both lost in their thoughts. They parted ways at the gate, Richard heading for the stables and Darcy to the front doors. He took himself off to his chambers and cleaned up before going to breakfast.
“There you are, Darcy!” Aunt Catherine cried. “I have been waiting for an age. Where have you been?”
“The morning was too beautiful to resist,” he replied. He picked up a plate from the sideboard and filled it with fruit and bacon. Adding a scone, he made his way to the table.
“Well, you are here now. The parsonage has been invited to dine tonight. I want you and Richard on your best behavior. I will not have you offending my guests, inadvertently or otherwise.”
“I would never, Aunt.” Richard waltzed into the room, hand over his heart in mock defense. “Everyone knows that I am a pleasant and engaging conversationalist.”
Lady Catherine smiled affectionately. “So, you are. Darcy, on the other hand, causes offense without meaning to more often than not.” She turned and glared at him.
“Would it ease your mind if I promised to be on my best behavior?” he asked, exasperated.
“It would go a fair way,” she grumbled. “Miss Bennet is a lively, knowledgeable girl. You will have no trouble finding things to discuss with her. Just be polite and not the usually taciturn gentleman you have become.”
Richard guffawed. Darcy rolled his eyes and ignored them both, buttering a scone and taking a bite. Little do they know, he thought in satisfaction.