Chapter 5 #2
He leaned back in the chair and clasped his hands across a still trim stomach.
“I found I enjoyed being a country gentleman.” At her lifted eyebrow, he chuckled.
“I left that life long ago, my little Lizzy, and to go back to what I was seems redundant. Besides, could you imagine your mother if she knew she was a titled lady in her own right?” He shuddered in his chair.
“No. We are Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Bennet of Longbourn, parents to five lovely daughters who need to marry well so their Mama will not end up in the hedgerows.”
“Papa!”
He laughed. “I will tell you this. Your mother has no need to worry. I have quite a lot of money safely invested with your Uncle Gardiner. He is the only other person, beside yourself, who knows my birth name. He doesn’t understand my need for secrecy, but keeps it anyway.”
A random thought skittered through her mind and her father chuckled once again.
“Yes, daughter. This is one of the reasons why I hate Town. The remaining members of the ton, who are Miatharan, know me, or rather Viscount Benoit, and I don’t care to prance around in court clothes when I can stay in my book room and read Cowper.”
“How did I end up with powers if you took steps to ensure this shouldn’t happen?”
“I’ve thought about this long and hard. Given the length of time between Jane’s birth and yours, you were conceived in France.
Several things aided in your unique inception.
First, the soil around my father’s villa is, or was, seeped in magic.
Second, your mother may have removed her wedding band for one reason or another and in our youthful passion I did not notice it. ”
Lizzy’s cheeks flamed at her father speaking of passion in the same breath he spoke of her mother, but then she remembered her dream and how carried away she became when Fitzwilliam Darcy became undone and kissed her so enthusiastically.
If a dream were that potent, imagine what the real thing would be like.
The next morning brought a note to Longbourn. As she read the short missive, frustration became her companion at the breakfast table.
“Jane is ill with a sore throat. Her ‘kind’ friends insist upon her seeing Mr. Jones.”
“Well, my dear,” Papa said over his kippers, “If your daughter should die, it will be of comfort to know she did so in the pursuit of Mr. Bingley under your orders.”
“Oh, piffle.” Mama waved a hand in the air. “People do not die of a trifling cold.”
“I will go see Jane.” Elizabeth said. Her agitation with her mother was so great, she almost crushed the note in her hand.
Although Mama argued against her leaving, Lizzy soon found herself walking with Lydia and Kitty, who departed her company once they reached Meryton.
She continued alone, crossing fields at a quick pace and arrived at Netherfield with no thought of her dirty stockings, unruly curls which refused to stay within the confines of her bonnet, and a face glowing from much exercise.
It was only when she was shown into the breakfast parlor, where all but Jane were assembled, did she realize what a sight she must make.
Convinced they held nothing but contempt for her company anyway, Mr. Bingley excluded of course, she raised her head proudly and asked how her sister was.
~~oo0oo~~
“Do you have any requests for dinner, Mr. Darcy?”
“No, Miss Bingley. Whatever you choose is satisfactory.”
Since his caustic remarks at Lucas Lodge, Darcy had taken great care to make sure he was never alone with his friend’s sister and that their conversation never went beyond common banalities.
However, between the hours spent at Pemberley poring over old tomes and maintaining the appearance he was guest at his leisure while showing Charles how to manage a small estate, his control was reaching its zenith.
In no way was he prepared to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet in the breakfast parlor of Netherfield.
Especially not after the rather erotic dream he’d had the night previous.
No music. No ballroom. Just he and Elizabeth performing an intimate dance men and women had been doing since the age of time.
His body tightened at her disheveled sight and although politeness dictate he rise to his feet when she entered the room, he took great care to move behind the chair to hide his desire.
“Miss Eliza, you walked all the way to Netherfield?”
“I did.”
“Why, that’s almost three miles!”
“Only about two and half if you avoid the road.”
“You mean to say you traipsed across the fields?”
“I did.”
While the sisters grilled Elizabeth over how she arrived, Darcy and Bingley resumed their seats, and Hurst left to take care of some correspondence. For himself, he quickly covered his lap with a napkin and tried to enjoy the remains of his breakfast.
“I’d like to see Jane now, if I may.”
“Of course, let me escort you to her room.”
Charles leapt to his feet and ushered her out the door while Miss Bingley scowled.
As they exited the room Charles could be heard to say that Miss Bennet had slept ill and was not well enough to return home.
Soon their voices faded and Darcy was left alone with the sisters.
The silence was deafening broken only by the jangling of Mrs. Hurst’s bracelets as she sipped her tea.
He counted to one hundred, in Latin, and then stood.
“Excuse me, ladies, I must get ready for the day.”
After a polite nod of the head he strode as quickly as possible across the room toward the staircase. Before he’d even crossed the vestibule, Charles came bounding down the stairs, grinning from ear to ear.
“Are we off now, Darcy?”
“Aye. Have you asked Mrs. Nichols to pack us some food?”
“I thought we’d return here for our midday meal.”
Darcy knew Charles hoped for a glimpse of the fair Miss Bennet and his control slipped just a tad closer to its peak.
If he stayed here, he might see Elizabeth, and although he knew she’d never be his wife, he couldn’t vouch for his self control when near her.
Also, the Wickham issue was no where near resolved and the cad wasn’t expected to arrive in Meryton until next week at the earliest.
“Charles, we are riding out to the northern boundary, checking fences and boundary walls with no time to ride back until sundown.” At his crestfallen face he almost relented, but the swish of silk behind him warned of Miss Bingley’s approach and he had absolutely no desire to be in her company, even for an hour.
“If we do not tarry, we might finish before it’s dark and you can be at your leisure to check on your guest’s progress before dinner. ”
It took another forty-five minutes before they were finally crossing the verdant fields which surrounded Netherfield Park.
Although a bit run down from lack of a proper master, the estate held much promise and Darcy did the best he could in such a short amount of time to educate Bingley on what he needed to run such an enterprise.
Away from the alluring pull of both Miss Bennet’s the men enjoyed their day and he was reminded of how good Bingley was when it came to management of time and people.
Beneath his open and congenial veneer lay an astute business man.
He quickly grasped what was needed to make Netherfield prosper and before the day was out had offered a few suggestions of his own to increase profitability from some of the fields and tenant farms. If only he applied these sentiments toward his sister, Darcy thought more than once.
The sun had begun its final descent, throwing shades of red and pink onto the horizon when they and their weary horses cantered up to the stable.
He brushed down his faithful stallion and agreed to meet Charles in the parlor before dining.
He’d no sooner entered his bed chamber than Richard strode in from the valet’s room.
“Good, you’re back. I was beginning to worry you’d never come home.”
“This is not home.”
“Don’t be daft, it was a figure of speech. I waited because I know you’re interested in our mutual friend, Wickham.”
“Never say he is my friend. Wickham and friend should never be thrown together in a sentence, unless you are teaching someone about opposites, like black and white, or love and hate.”
“Fine. How about mutual acquaintance?”
“No.” Darcy tugged at his cravat and threw it onto his dresser. “Move along Richard, I’m in no mood for any humor.”
“What’s new with that?” At his glare, Richard lifted his hands as though in surrender. “Okay, okay. No more. I hate him as much as you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Nay, Darcy.” Richard laid a hand on his forearm and gripped tight. “I love Georgiana as a sister and my anger runs deep and fast. I only manage it better than you as I’ve had years of practice on the battlefield.”
Darcy looked deep into his cousin’s eyes and saw truth. He gripped Richard’s forearms as their ancestors used to do when they pledged fealty. “I’m grateful you are in this with me. We will vanquish Wickham and rid England of this scourge.”
“Your wish is my command. I stand behind, I stand before, I stand with. My life for yours.” Richard said the old words with much solemnity. “You are my liege and I pledge to follow.”
Darcy covered the hand Richard gripped his forearm with and squeezed. “I am no longer royalty, Richard. We gave that up when our ancestor D’Arcy came over with William from Normandy, and he ascended to the throne, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Be that as it may, I stand by my pledge.”
They released their grips and moved apart.