Chapter 15 Mondays Are for Meetings
Mondays Are for Meetings
Mr. Darcy arrived early Monday morning and Elizabeth barely rose in time to see him.
She and Jane had stayed up half Saturday night discussing their beaux, and Sunday had been more of the same.
Elizabeth wanted to hear all about Mr. Bingley’s return and how Jane had received him.
Jane spared no detail—she was as much in love as she had ever been, and it made Elizabeth’s heart glad to see her so happy.
Now, Elizabeth rushed down the stairs, her hair in a simple knot at the base of her neck, to see Mr. Darcy before he escorted her friends to Meryton.
She burst into the morning room to find him standing at the window all alone.
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy.”
He turned and smiled at the sound of her voice. “Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.” He looked around the room, and seeing no one about, quickly strode towards her and kissed her cheek. “I am glad to see you this morning.”
She smiled shyly at him. “As am I.” Her doubt and restlessness from the days before vanished at the sight of his smile. She had been utterly wrong about him, and she would admit it every day if it meant there would be more moments like this.
“Before I forget, do you have a letter for me?”
“Yes.” She handed him the folded paper she had written for her father. “If Papa is difficult and attempts to make sport of you, which he will likely do, tell him I expected as much and that I said you are not an unwanted suitor, and remind him that he promised. That should move things along.”
“He promised?”
She looked down and fidgeted with the edges of his coat. “Some months ago, he dispatched an unwanted admirer for me and told me that my choice of hu—, husband,” she stumbled on the word, “was mine to make. He promised he would stand by my choice and my right to make it.”
Darcy pressed her hands against his chest, longing to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless while asking if he was in fact her choice of husband.
But she had asked him to progress slowly, and he wished her to be completely sure when she accepted him.
She should be filled with joy, not lingering doubt.
He raised her hands to his lips one at a time and placed fervent kisses on the backs. “I am honored.”
They heard Charlotte and Maria coming in from the dining room. Elizabeth quickly rose to her toes and kissed his lips for the briefest moment, then moved swiftly to the door to greet her friend.
The journey to Meryton was uneventful and soon Darcy was standing in front of Longbourn’s door.
He was let in by the butler and then taken to Mr. Bennet’s bookroom.
By some unexpected stroke of luck, Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest daughters had gone on a call, and only Miss Mary was in the house, playing ponderously on a pianoforte somewhere out of sight.
Mr. Bennet’s bookroom was aptly named. The walls were covered floor to ceiling in books. The only open space was a large window on two of the walls, and a fireplace that bore an insignia in the center and some faded script on the stone.
“Mr. Darcy, what can I do for you?”
“I have just escorted Miss Lucas and Mrs. Collins to Lucas Lodge, and I have a letter from your daughter.”
He had intended to be more forthright, but as soon as he met the man’s shrewd eyes and realized how very much was at stake with this interview, all coherent thought had left him.
He knew only that he must leave with Mr. Bennet’s consent for their courtship and eventual marriage.
Elizabeth was not of age, and even if she were, he could not ask her to go against her family. He must obtain her father’s consent.
Mr. Bennet took the letter Darcy held out for him with a look of surprise, then pleasure when he recognized the writing. “I did not know you were in company with Elizabeth.”
“I was visiting my aunt, Lady Catherine, in Kent. Hunsford Parsonage is but a half mile up the lane.”
“Ah.” Mr. Bennet looked to his guest, then to his letter, then back to Mr. Darcy, clearly wondering what the man was still doing there.
“I also wished to speak with you about your daughter, Miss Elizabeth. I have asked and received her permission to court her, and now I would like your consent to the courtship and our eventual marriage.” There.
He had said it. He exhaled audibly and felt his shoulders drop down from his ears. The worst was over.
Mr. Bennet stared at Mr. Darcy as if he were a mule who had suddenly begun speaking.
“Forgive me, Mr. Darcy. Did you say you wish to court my Lizzy?”
“Yes.”
“And she has agreed to this?” he asked, his grey brows raised nearly to his hairline.
“Yes.”
Mr. Bennet’s doubt was writ clearly upon his face, so Darcy added, “She did not agree immediately. There was much discussion and negotiation—”
“Negotiation?”
Darcy colored. “Miss Elizabeth requested that we progress slowly so she might have the time to come to know me.” He almost added that he had confessed his error in judgement to Bingley before she would accept him, but he would keep that to himself unless absolutely necessary.
“That is a reasonable request, seeing as how she hated you when she left for Kent.”
Darcy winced. It was one thing to know she had disliked him—it was another to hear it spoken of so matter-of-factly by her own father.
“I know Miss Elizabeth did not have a favorable opinion of me, but we have spoken and cleared that away. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, became friends with Miss Elizabeth and when she mentioned Wickham, he could not but warn her of the man’s avarice.”
Mr. Bennet’s brows rose again. He had clearly not expected the conversation to take such a turn. “I think you had better begin again, Mr. Darcy.”
And so Darcy told him of his history with Wickham, changing names and details to protect the privacy of the innocent, and told Mr. Bennet somewhat sparingly of his evening visit to the parsonage on the day Elizabeth had been so distressed.
He did not mention the brandy or his original intent, but he gave what details he could and by the end of his recitation, Mr. Bennet looked thoroughly shocked.
“I think I had better read this letter.”
He opened the seal and was surprised at its brevity.
Father,
Please do not toy with Mr. Darcy. He will be my husband one day and I wish the two of you to be friends. He has a wonderful library if such a temptation is needed to induce you to be kind to him.
I care for him, Father.
I am sure he will tell you all about our reconciliation and the information that led to it. Listen carefully and watch over my sisters. Mr. W is not to be trusted.
Charlotte likes Mr. Darcy, and if it makes you feel more assured, Aunt Gardiner thinks him a fine man, based not only on my account of him, but that of an old friend in Derbyshire who knows him away from our company. Surely two such references cannot but be in his favor?
I shall not remind you of your promise since I am sure you remember it quite clearly yourself.
I shall merely sign,
Your loving daughter,
Elizabeth Bennet
Mr. Bennet laughed heartily when he finished the letter. “Well, Mr. Darcy, it seems I have been charged with not toying with you.”
Darcy smiled uneasily, not knowing how to react to such a statement.
“Do not worry, young man, I will leave you be. Now, let us get down to business. You wish to marry my daughter?”
From there, Darcy was on firmer footing.
He shared his hopes that they would be wed by the end of the year, his tentative plans for a wedding trip, and that he thought they would spend roughly eight months of the year at Pemberley, though Elizabeth might prefer something different.
They spoke of settlements and pin money, entailments (Pemberley’s was limited, thankfully) and wills, and their proposed living arrangements.
Georgiana would live with them as he hoped she and Elizabeth would get along, but if they did not, his sister did have her own establishment in Town that could be utilized, or she could potentially stay with another relative.
Mr. Bennet was impressed. He hated to admit it as he had long looked forward to teasing whoever Elizabeth’s suitor turned out to be.
In some ways, Mr. Darcy was an easy target for such endeavors, and intelligent enough to give Mr. Bennet a challenge, but he had promised Elizabeth.
There would be plenty of time for fun and games in the future.
“Well, Mr. Darcy, I think that is all I need to know. If you will have the settlement drawn up, I will review it.”
Darcy shook his hand and a relieved smile broke out on his face. “So I have your blessing, sir?”
Bennet drew a deep breath. “Yes, you have it, and Elizabeth as well. Tell her I expect her home within the fortnight.”
“I thought she was due to return to Longbourn Saturday?”
Bennet raised one brow, much like his daughter did. “She was. I assumed you would like a little more time in Town, before being subjected to my wife’s effusions. Though by all means bring her back Saturday if you prefer.”
“No! A fortnight is agreeable,” said Darcy quickly.
Bennet did not bother hiding his smirk. “Very well. If you can wait a moment, I will send a note for my brother with you.”
Darcy’s coach was entering London when he called out to the coachman to go to Gracechurch Street instead of his Mayfair address. Soon he was being let into the Gardiners’ home and led to the drawing room.
“Mr. Darcy!” cried Mrs. Gardiner. “We did not expect to see you this evening.” She smiled and stood to greet him.
“I have only just come from Hertfordshire. I have a letter for your husband from Mr. Bennet and another for Miss Elizabeth.”
“How very kind of you to deliver them. Please, do be seated.” She gestured him to the seat across from her and took the letters. “My husband will be home shortly. Elizabeth is with the children and their nurse, but I expect them back any moment.”