Chapter 36 A Confrontation
A CONFRONTATION
The butler at Ashworth informed them that they would find Mrs Goddard with her daughter and Miss King in the parlour.
Saye happily left him for pleasanter company while Darcy enquired after Sir James.
The butler promised to send a footman to find him, then showed Darcy into the library to await him.
His eyes roamed over the books while he waited, seeing nothing of interest.
“This is a surprise, Darcy.” Sir James entered the room.
“Is it?” Darcy turned. “I should have thought you might expect me.”
“Why?” With an easy attitude, Sir James walked to the sideboard and offered Darcy a drink, which he declined.
“Because I ought to call you out. You have ruined the reputation of a woman—”
“A woman who bears no relation to you,” Sir James interjected smoothly as he walked to a chair and took a seat. With a little smirk, he asked, “Or has Mr Bennet appointed you her guardian?”
Darcy ignored the jab. “You were not in the garden with Miss Elizabeth. You did not kiss her, and you know, full well, that nothing untoward happened between you, that night or any other. All that has been said of her are complete and utter lies.”
Sir James regarded him soberly and silently from his chair.
“I believe you have spread these rumours to force her hand. Is that not so?”
“Of course not. I would not intentionally besmirch the reputation of a worthy young lady.”
“Then where is your honour, allowing her to linger in distress, when so easily, you could help her?”
“I am helping her. I am going to marry her.”
Darcy pointed a finger at him. “You ought to be clearing her name.”
“What is this to you anyhow?” Sir James enquired with a tilted head. “Vexed that I am interfering with your countryside diversion?”
“Countryside diversion?”
“You heard me. I know what you have been doing here.”
Darcy barked an incredulous laugh. “Pray enlighten me.”
“I am saving her from your games,” said Sir James.
“There is no game. I love her, and I am in no way trifling with her affections.”
“Love her?” Sir James sat forwards, an encroaching redness on his countenance attesting to the anger overtaking him. “Surely you do not expect me to believe that, even if you have somehow persuaded her of it.”
“I love her, and it is my belief that she loves me.”
“You trifle with her.” Sir James rose and approached him. “I have heard from an unimpeachable source that you are engaged to your cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, a lady with a noble ancestry, and a large estate and similarly large fortune which will be yours on your marriage.”
Darcy did not shrink back. “Allow me to guess who your unimpeachable source is. Mr Collins, perhaps? My aunt’s parson?”
“Mr Collins is a man of the cloth,” Sir James retorted.
“Mr Collins is an imbecile,” Darcy shot back. “And I assure you I am in no way bound to my cousin.”
“I saw how you were,” Sir James said, by now nearly toe-to-toe with Darcy. “Making love to her all over Ashworth that night of the party. Dancing, flirting… You would never behave so in town, or you would have ten fathers on your door with articles outstretched.”
At once it occurred to Darcy that his attempts to woo Elizabeth had led Sir James to think him a rake. He threw back his head and laughed. “You are correct. I would not behave so in town and in fact have never behaved so in any place save for in Hertfordshire.”
“Just because Miss Elizabeth has no fortune of her own, and no brother to defend her—”
“I was trying,” said Darcy, “to win her hand.” Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he withdrew a sheaf of papers and handed them to Sir James.
Sir James drew back with surprise for a moment, then warily took the pages and began to peruse them. “Marriage articles?”
“I came into Hertfordshire intent on winning her hand. I have loved Elizabeth for months now. She is unlike any woman I have ever known, and with her I am happy in a way I never knew possible.”
Sir James slowly folded the pages and extended them back to Darcy. “And do you doubt I feel likewise?”
“Yes, in fact, I do,” Darcy retorted. “And know this: the reason she has delayed in accepting you is, and always will be, me. You can try to get around that, you can sit here at Ashworth and attempt to call her bluff, or win the game, wait for her parents to force her to marry you, or whatever it is you think you are doing…but you will never, ever have her heart—because I already have it. And I do not intend to relinquish it.”
“I would not be so sure of things, were I you, Darcy. Elizabeth told me she did not love me, and said nothing at all about you. So I am not as certain as you are about who has her heart. Perhaps neither of us do. In any case, it is I who awaits the summons to Longbourn to hear her acceptance of my suit.”
Darcy clenched his jaw briefly. “Do you not still wish to clear her name? It is important to her that her reputation be restored, and her character no longer in question.”
Sir James heaved a sigh, then turned and went back to his chair. “I do. But in my own way. Which is to marry her and say it was all a misunderstanding, what happened that night. That we were engaged even then, and thus it was nothing at all untoward.”
His anger rising, Darcy realised Sir James would be implacable. The man was determined to have her and devil take the hindmost.
“It seems you have decided your course,” he said tersely. “And thus I am wasting my time. I shall bid you good day, then.”
Sir James nodded and with a placid smile said, “I do hope you will visit us at Hadleigh Hall someday.”
For Saye to be removed from Ashworth seemed to take an eternity; at one point, Darcy considered leaving without him, letting him walk the ten miles back to Netherfield if needed. But at length, Saye tossed himself into the squabs.
“Thought it would take you longer than that,” he grunted.
“We have been here an hour.”
“And did your quest prove fruitful?”
“Not at all,” said Darcy, the remembrance filling his mouth with a bitter taste.
“The man is the most obstinate piece of nothing I ever saw. He is determined to have her and does not see that clearing her name, save through marriage to him, is possible or even relevant.” Darcy shook his head.
“I am running out of time and ideas. Sir James is adamant he did not begin the rumours, then who did?”
Saye had pulled a small mirror from his pocket and was examining his teeth. He made no reply to his cousin.
“Is Georgiana capable of doing such a thing?” Darcy enquired. “Or do you think Miss Bingley the more likely culprit?”
“The ancient Romans,” Saye replied, “used their own urine to whiten their teeth.”
Darcy rolled his eyes. Clearly Saye had lost interest in his dilemma.
“A vile practice if you ask me, and I have used charcoal powder on my own. To great effect, if I do say so myself.” Saye tucked his little mirror back into his pocket. “Oh, I nearly forgot.” He withdrew a folded page and handed it to Darcy.
It was a letter from Mr Bennet to Sir James, dated from that morning, asking him to wait upon them at Longbourn such that he and Elizabeth could make formal their engagement. Darcy read it three times in amazement. “Why do you have this?”
“I happened to see the servant.” Saye yawned. “Recognised him from Longbourn and thought I should see what he had for us.”
Darcy looked at the front of the page. “He had nothing for you. This is addressed to Sir James.”
“Well, I meant to give it to him. I suppose I forgot. Dreadful oversight.” Saye closed his eyes and leant back against the squabs. Darcy gave him a hard stare nevertheless, hoping he might sense it. At length it worked and Saye opened his eyes.
“Pray do not feel the need to thank me.”
“You stole a man’s correspondence.”
“He is a liar, and I daresay once a man lies, he is a fair target for whatever mischief might come to him. Regardless, we have obtained another day or so to learn the truth.” Saye shrugged. “You are welcome.”
Darcy decided he did not care about his cousin’s underhanded ways. So be it; it was nothing to his own honour. “We need to speak to the servants,” he said. “Find out where they heard the tales. And much as it grieves me to say it, I do mean to question Georgiana further about it.”