Chapter 17
Darcy
When the house party returned to Netherfield manor, they discovered that the last guests had arrived. The newcomers were a gentleman named Mr Thomas Banfield and his cousins Misses Mary and Sarah Barnes.
For the first time, someone appeared to be disappointed to discover that Bingley was no longer in residence.
From the expressions on the Misses Barnes’ faces, they had come to Netherfield in hopes that one or both of them would catch a wealthy husband.
Darcy could not help but notice that both ladies were the tall, ethereal blonde type of “angels” Bingley routinely favoured.
“Oh, what a pity that Mr Bingley had to leave! I wonder what sort of business would take precedence over hosting the house party!” Miss Barnes said.
“But surely he will be back!” Miss Sarah said.
“I am afraid not,” Darcy said, and Hurst used more flowery words to back up Darcy’s firm message that Bingley would not be making an appearance.
Darcy was irritated that, as soon as Mr Banfield and the Barnes ladies were introduced to the larger group, Miss Barnes swooped over to Wessex, and Miss Sarah to Williams. The ladies seemed quite determined to flirt, despite their targets’ evident lack of interest. Mr Banfield was almost as direct as he began to chat with Darcy about investment opportunities.
“This is not the place or the time for this conversation,” Darcy said.
“Perhaps after the wedding, and after I take my bride on her tour, and we have had a few weeks at home to introduce her to Pemberley and her duties as the mistress, I will be ready to discuss investment opportunities with you. I suggest you write to me in three months.”
Mr Banfield’s face sagged, and Darcy thought to himself that these particular guests might cut their visit short.
Or at least, so he hoped.
Still, he behaved with courtesy if not warmth.
As always, he admired how Elizabeth combined both courtesy and warmth yet managed to duck questions that were not proper.
When Miss Sarah slyly said, “I believe I have met Mr Williams’s brother,” Darcy immediately supposed that she was attempting to find out if he was a first son, and therefore an heir.
He knew that Elizabeth was aware that Williams was the heir to a very fine estate, but he felt that Elizabeth ought not to answer at all, hopefully while staring down the presumptuous lady.
However, Elizabeth did no such thing; instead, she replied, “That may be; I know little of his family. However, he is a wonderful gentleman, and his sister is a very pleasant lady, and that knowledge is enough for me.”
And then Elizabeth moved rapidly away, asking after another guest’s comfort.
And this is the difference between Elizabeth and me, he thought. She manages to not comply with an improper request for information, but without the discomfort of a public set-down.
After an attempt on Mr Banfield’s part to ingratiate himself with Elizabeth and an attempt on Miss Barnes’s part to—Darcy supposed—gain an estimate of Wessex’s worth, he felt he would be justified to order the three off of his property.
Instead, Elizabeth brought out lawn games and somehow managed to motivate everyone to participate in various pursuits.
How does she do that? It looked effortless, but Darcy had a hunch that it would be an onerous—perhaps impossible—task for him to involve his guests in games. He was so very grateful that she had accepted him, and that when they hosted, he and Pemberley would benefit from her social skills.
Dinner that night was lively. Miss Williams laughed at all the pandering that the Misses Barnes were doing; Miss Williams was able to deflect the flirtations by saying things such as, “You are entirely too charming, Miss Sarah!” and, “Oh, Miss Barnes, you are too humorous by half!” Thus, the men the Barnes ladies targeted did not have to respond directly to the over-the-top compliments; instead, they could just chuckle along with everyone else, as if the Barnes sisters were teasing.
Mr Banfield became quiet as he witnessed the handling of his cousins with wide eyes; the Barnes sisters became increasingly distressed at the apparent misunderstanding of their serious intentions.
Wessex was friendly to all but chose to walk Jane into the dining room and to sit next to her so they could continue their acquaintance.
Mr and Mrs Hurst were attentive hosts, and Darcy was thrilled with the informal seating, because he could sit next to Elizabeth.
He was certain that nobody could tell that they held hands below the table, but it made eating a bit awkward for him.
After the ladies left, Wessex sipped his port and said, “It is so nice to see the affection you have for your bride, Darcy.”
Darcy blushed. “I am used to thinking of myself as difficult to read. But you are one of my best friends, so I suppose it is understandable that you are able to see my emotions.”
“Darce, first of all, this particular best friend cannot often tell what you are thinking or feeling. Because you are not just hard to read, you are entirely unfathomable.”
“Oh…then….”
“But when it comes to your affection for Miss Elizabeth—believe me, all your friends can tell; strangers can tell; I am certain that Gulltoppr can tell; perhaps even rocks and mountains are in on the secret. Your love for her is…very obvious.”
If he was blushing before, Darcy now felt that he might die of redness.
“Equally obvious is her equal affection for you. I have never seen a couple so completely besotted before—so constantly connected that it even affects their grace while dining.”
Realising that Wessex—and thus, likely, everyone—knew they had been holding hands under the table, Darcy felt even more heat in his cheeks. He dearly hoped that Elizabeth liked the colour red!
Hurst said, “When it comes to Miss Elizabeth and Darcy,
[N]o sooner met but they looked,
no sooner looked but they loved,
no sooner loved but they sighed,
no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason.”
“A very apt quote,” Williams opined, “from what I heard from Darcy’s cousin.”
Darcy sent a swift, startled glance at his friend and asked, “Richard?”
Williams looked abashed—he knew a bit about Richard’s struggle with a certain green-eyed monster—and he hurried to name Richard’s elder brother: “No, actually; Lord Grantham was my informant.”
“Perhaps I will be the informant to all of you,” Darcy said with the air of making an important announcement. "My cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, is now landowner Mister Richard Fitzwilliam. Even more important, he is engaged to marry.”
Surprise and well wishes were expressed. Williams asked if the colonel—“Oh! I mean Mr Fitzwilliam!”—would be well enough to attend the wedding.
“No, I am afraid not,” Darcy replied. “But he is doing very well, considering that they had to remove nine balls from his leg, and one of them had broken his fibula!”
Everyone blanched or winced. Darcy had written to Wessex and Williams when he had first heard about Richard’s injury, and they had checked several times on Richard’s recovery, but he had never shared with them the particulars of his most grievous injury. Neither had he stated it so baldly to Hurst.
Mr Banfield had never met his Fitzwilliam cousins and had not heard that Richard was injured. He said, “I have a cousin in the Regulars, and he has told me admirable things about Colonel Fitzwilliam. I certainly wish him well in his convalescence and his marriage.”
Darcy’s respect for the man climbed a bit, and he gave his sincere thanks.
The men soon joined the ladies for music, cards, and chess.
Elizabeth and Darcy were the only two who declared interest in playing chess, and as they focused on the game, Darcy realised that Elizabeth had somehow managed to arrange herself so that her feet straddled his right foot, which was close to the wall; he assumed that her skirts hid the contact, but whenever he was attempting to consider his next move, she distracted him with her shoeless foot running up and down his stockinged lower leg.
They shared many private smiles, and although he felt incredibly aroused by her playful actions and would not be able to stand comfortably for some time, he managed to play well enough to be first to put her in check.
At that point, Elizabeth made a wry comment: “Apparently, we are quite a spectacle. However, I have no idea why!”
Darcy looked up from the pieces to see if she was teasing, and for the first time he realised that everyone else had stopped playing cards—and instead every person was watching their game.
Worrying that everyone had seen Elizabeth’s foot-flirtations, Darcy blushed. But everyone except the two actually playing chess seemed riveted on the board. Darcy heard Williams say, “Darce must be going easy on her.”
“Assuredly,” Wessex said. “Always the gentleman, Darcy is playing down to Miss Elizabeth’s level.”
“Assuredly, I am not,” Darcy said. “It just so happens that I am only a little bit better than Elizabeth, and I need to work hard to beat her.”
As he said that, Elizabeth’s foot rose up his leg, her toes wiggling in the hough of his knee. He wished to groan, but controlled himself; he wished to stop the game and kiss her, hard—but of course he mastered that impulse as well.
Elizabeth shook her head—and he could see that she was feeling discouraged with the game—but then she looked up at him with a particularly mischievous smile as she brushed a single toe—or so it felt like—on his inner thigh.
His eyes widened, but with much effort he was able to make his move and say, “Checkmate,” and she solemnly tipped her king onto its side in acknowledgement of his win.
Darcy smiled a bit as everyone congratulated him, but he did not stand and walk away as Elizabeth easily did.
She cast a look back at him, and he read sympathy in her eyes, and she distracted everyone by ringing for the carriage, asking after the winner in the card game, and checking in with Jane.
After a bit more than a minute of Elizabeth’s distraction tactics, Darcy was finally able to stand.
When Rogers came in a few minutes later to announce that the carriage was at the door, Darcy told him in a low voice that he wished to accompany him and the Misses Bennets that night.
“I will tie Gulltoppr behind the carriage and ride home,” he decided.
At Longbourn, Darcy made the excuse that he had to speak to Elizabeth about the bridal tour.
He led her around a corner and into the shadows caused by a large, very leafy tree blocking the moonlight.
There he kissed her, giving all he had to make her legs shake and her knees give way.
When he released her, she recovered from her breathlessness and asked, “Why—?”
“Consider that your punishment for all the distraction this evening.”
“But—you still won!”
“I did. And I won again, just now. But I am hoping that this latest win was very mutual, just as I hope that all that foot action was a win we shared together.”
“Very mutual indeed.”
Darcy leant towards Elizabeth and whispered in her ear, “Six more days!”