Idiot
Much to the Bennet sisters’ surprise, Darcy laughed, ran his fingers through his hair until it stood up like a mad prophet of doom, crossed his eyes, tilted his head, and even let a thread of drool escape his mouth as he babbled, “Gaaaiiaaia gaaaosyas yasyssyys”.
Mary and Elizabeth could not help themselves—they burst out laughing, and could not stop for quite some time. Thomas and Mr Smithers laughed as well; they had gone only ten paces from the coach.
Mary decided she liked this incarnation of Mr Darcy very much, and Lizzy…
well, Lizzy was only confused. She had disliked him that morning, had hated him ten minutes before, but when he proved willing to make himself ridiculous, she felt a small stirring of some unknown emotion for him.
It was not esteem, or respect, or attraction per se; but it was—something.
After half a minute of his antics, Darcy stopped, uncrossed his eyes, and gave a broad smile.
He quite enjoyed the smiles on the Bennet sisters’ faces and wondered if he could do that without making quite such a fool of himself…
or… he thought, perhaps it was time to make a different kind of fool of himself instead.
Elizabeth and Mary looked on in wonder as he straightened his head, casually wiped the drool from his mouth with his sleeve, and ran his fingers through his hair until it was more or less presentable; his valet would only frown instead of weeping.
Mary, feeling just a touch frisky, said, “Mr Darcy, I like your hair that way. You should do that more often.”
“Which version?” Darcy asked, one eyebrow lifting.
“This one. The mad prophet effect is only useful in certain situations, but this one could be used generally.”
“Why?”
Caught out, Mary sucked air through her teeth, clucked her tongue, and said, “I really do not know—precisely… Lizzy?”
Elizabeth was caught off guard. She agreed with Mary, yet could not put her finger on precisely why.
Mr Darcy looked at her most disconcertingly, a small smile on his face, and a revelation came to her.
She had seen him look at her intently like that before, and she had occasionally seen the small lopsided grin that she had to sheepishly admit made him look—well, she could not put a name to it; perhaps sweet, but that was not quite it.
Of one thing she was certain, though: he was not looking to find fault, which meant… which meant… well, she did not even want to think about what it meant. If he was not looking to find fault today, what did that mean for all those other times she had seen the expression?
At last, put on the spot and anxious to preserve the little rapport they had created, she said, “I think it makes you more approachable… more… human… well, none of those words are quite correct, but—”
Her voice trailed off. Shyness warmed her cheeks, and she looked at the ground.
Darcy said, “I shall adopt this look with alacrity.”
He paused, then asked, “Ladies, are you comfortable? I… well… I have a request to make.”
Mary said, “We are fine. Lizzy gets this muddy at least once a fortnight, but I believe you can say goodbye to these greatcoats.”
Darcy laughed. “Consider them yours. I asked because… well, this is the best, most honest conversation I believe I have ever had, and I have a few questions to ask, but there are things I should put in motion first. Do you mind waiting a few minutes while I do so?”
Elizabeth said, “If this is the best conversation you have ever had, you are going about it entirely wrong. I believe the next time you hold a ball, you should hire a dozen or two extra footmen. They can stand outside the ballroom in ranks. The first group shall dump buckets of muddy water on the guests. The second will wrap them in greatcoats, and the third will wrap them with travel rugs. You can make this happen every week if you want.”
Everyone including the servants laughed, and Elizabeth wondered how laughter had come so easily among people who had been implacable enemies less than an hour earlier.
Darcy raised his voice towards the coach. “Thomas… Smithers… James…”
The two men the sisters knew approached, followed by a third unknown to them, a well-dressed servant of about 40. Thomas handed Darcy a greatcoat and put one on himself. He smiled at the ladies. “You may have these too, if you are so inclined, ladies.”
“These will suffice. We can always get more next time Mr Darcy holds a ball.”
Smithers snorted, “You mean the first time he holds a ball.”
Darcy laughed with them, and Elizabeth’s curiosity fastened on the party.
They were master and servant, plainly; yet there was respect and camaraderie between them.
Thomas and Mr Darcy had obviously been close enough as young men for Aunt Gardiner to break up an argument between them, so there was that bond; but there was something more, something she had never seen.
She hated to admit it, but she was insatiably curious, for some reason she could not fathom.
Darcy said, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet, this is James Samson, my valet. James, Misses Elizabeth and Mary Bennet—though Miss Mary is soon to be Mrs Collins.”
The newcomer bowed. “Well met, ladies. I have heard much of you, and all to your credit.”
Elizabeth and Mary exchanged a puzzled glance, but let it pass.
Darcy said, “We will return to Netherfield. Can you see to it? You must speak with Mrs Morris and Mr Greaves. Tell them closing the house was a mistake, and anyone who was discharged should be rehired before they get away. Put it about that closing the house was my error, and offer everyone an extra fortnight’s pay to compensate for the inconvenience. ”
“Everyone, or only those discharged?”
“Everyone. Fair is fair.”
Elizabeth and Mary stared in shock, and Mary asked, “Why, Mr Darcy?”
“Because it is the right thing to do. It was my mistake, and it is my responsibility to correct it. There are consequences when servants cannot depend on their employment. I was so distracted by my own thoughts—which were admittedly quite idiotic—that I listened to Miss Bingley; a ridiculous strategy, if ever there was one. Bingley can succeed here, but my eyes are opened. My behaviour, and that of his sisters, has hurt his reputation in the neighbourhood and made that success more difficult. I am responsible for some of the damage, so I must mitigate it if I can.”
Elizabeth asked, “Why do you think this now, when you did not think so an hour ago?”
Darcy’s gaze settled on her intently. For some reason, it made her curious rather than nervous. Everyone else might have noticed him move half a step closer; but none commented.
“Because, Miss Elizabeth, you have opened my eyes. I try to live my life honourably, but I make mistakes like anybody—perhaps more than some. However, when an error is made due to ignorance, hubris, or malice, basic gentlemanly behaviour demands correction.”
She did not know this man at all, yet she was less averse to learning about him than she had been.
“Well said, Mr Darcy. I applaud your reasoning—and I thank you.”
Darcy gave that same wistful smile again, but its effect was less ambiguous. Something definitely interesting stirred in her breast. Whether it fascinated or frightened her, she had no idea.
Turning back to his valet, Darcy continued, “I would prefer that what happened here not become general gossip. The Bingley sisters will not return, and my men will say nothing. See if you can persuade the two drivers of Bingley’s wagon to hold their tongues.”
“They are the Newton father and son, so you need not worry. Anything else?”
“Tell the housekeeper and butler I will most likely go to town in the next day or two and return with Bingley; until then, they should carry on as before. When I return, I will most likely bring my sister, and, if I can manage it, I may try to persuade my aunt to visit and act as hostess for Bingley for a few weeks.”
“Very good, sir. Ladies, it has been a pleasure, and I hope to do so again in future. Miss Mary, I wish you the utmost felicitations on your upcoming marriage.”
“The pleasure is all ours.”
A curtsey in the greatcoats would have looked silly, so they nodded and bobbed, while Mr Samson gave a regal bow, turned on his heel, and got to work.
Darcy continued, “Thomas, if you take Copernicus, I believe you can overtake the Bingley carriage and beat them to town. Find Bingley and tell him what happened here—at least the part his sisters played. Tell him not to listen to a word they say until he talks to me. He may want to keep to his club. I shall be there in a day or two.”
Thomas touched his cap and bowed. “Ladies, it has been a pleasure. I join Mr Samson in wishing we might have your company again.”
They gave him a similar send-off, and Elizabeth asked, “Copernicus?”
Darcy laughed, “I name all my stallions after scientists.”
Elizabeth smiled as Thomas rode by on a magnificent horse, touching his cap.