Chapter 7 Speaking to Mr. Bennet #2
He gave Elizabeth a knowing look. “With Mr Bingley supposedly courting Jane, I daresay your mother will soon proclaim you the next mistress of Longbourn whether or not my cousin concurs. Still, I shall speak to her this morning and forbid her from pressing you upon Mr Collins—without, of course, betraying anything of your present courtship. She will protest, as is her custom, but I mean to carry my point. If all else fails, I might threaten to withhold her pin money; nothing would curtail her matchmaking schemes so quickly as the thought of a lighter purse.”
Struggling to contain her sigh at her father’s indifference towards his wife, she merely nodded. “Thank you, Papa,” she said before turning to look at Darcy.
“Now, Lizzy,” Mr Bennet spoke again, “leave me with your suitor so I might speak to him more seriously for a few minutes. With your assurance that you actually wish for this courtship, I would like this opportunity to speak to your young man without you here.”
Unable to refuse a direct command, Elizabeth merely nodded before standing, offering Darcy a tight smile, and leaving the room.
Mr Bennet’s gaze sharpened the moment the door closed behind Elizabeth. “Now then, Mr Darcy,” he said, his voice cool and firm, “explain how you came to be with my Lizzy at such an early hour.”
Darcy met his scrutiny without flinching.
“We encountered one another during her morning walk,” he replied evenly, concealing the fact that it had not been wholly by chance.
“When we spoke at Netherfield, Miss Elizabeth mentioned Oakham Mount, so I set out in that direction this morning. I had no notion she would be abroad at so early an hour.”
He paused, his tone steady but sincere. “As I mentioned, I am guardian to my younger sister, and I intend to treat your daughter with the same respect I would expect from any man who might one day court her.”
With a grimace, Mr Bennet gave a slow nod. “I have heard quite enough about you over the last few weeks to form a solid dislike of you, Mr Darcy. To say your request this morning was a surprise is putting it mildly. Still, since Lizzy has agreed, I see no pressing reason to stand in the way.”
He leant back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Frankly, I expect you will reveal your true nature before long, and Lizzy—sensible girl that she is—will come to her senses and end this charade herself. In the meantime, I suppose your presence will have the added benefit of keeping my fool of a cousin at bay. For that alone, I may end up thanking you. I expect you and your friend to depart this area long before Christmastide without my daughters.”
Darcy squared his shoulders and met Mr Bennet’s gaze. “You are mistaken about me, sir, and I intend to prove it,” he said, his voice calm and firm. “I have come to care deeply for Miss Elizabeth since meeting her, and I do not plan to leave this place without her by my side—as my wife.”
He drew a steadying breath and softened his tone.
“I recognise that my first conduct in this neighbourhood was less than admirable. I gave offence—often without meaning to—and for that, I apologise. I have already asked Miss Elizabeth’s forgiveness, and now I extend the same to you.
My words about her were poorly chosen, whatever my intent at the time.
She has seen fit to forgive me, and I am resolved to show both her and you that I can do better.
I will not stand aloof from the society that matters to her. ”
Mr Bennet gave a dry snort and shook his head.
“We shall see, Mr Darcy. As I said, I have little faith in your ability to hide your true nature for long. Lizzy may be momentarily dazzled by some pretty words, but she is no fool. Once the illusion fades—as I fully expect it will—she will see you clearly enough.”
Darcy inclined his head, his expression composed though his jaw tightened. “I trust time will prove you mistaken, sir. Since we are each immovable in our views, further debate would serve no purpose. I shall not detain you longer.”
He did not allow his frustration to show. Most fathers would welcome a suitor of his standing, yet Mr Bennet seemed to feel the opposite, either unaware of Darcy’s position or, more likely, completely indifferent to it. The man appeared to be viewing him in the worst possible light.
Perhaps it was the thought of his daughter being taken so far from home that gave him pause. Darcy could only hope to win over the father in time, as he hoped to win the daughter. He expected Mrs Bennet, at least, would be delighted by the match and unlikely to trouble herself with deeper concerns.
A short silence passed before Darcy spoke again. “Shall I see myself out?”
“Please do,” Mr Bennet replied with a dismissive wave, as though dismissing a tradesman rather than a potential wealthy son-in-law.
Darcy stood and took his leave, stepping into the hall with one last glance through the open doors in search of Elizabeth. Finding no sign of her, and unsure if he ought to linger and risk being seen by the rest of the family, he crossed swiftly to the stable yard, where his horse waited.
He had just placed his hand on the saddle, preparing to mount, when he heard the sound of a door opening behind him. Turning slightly, Darcy saw Elizabeth crossing the yard, her cheeks flushed from the cold.
“I thought you might stay and talk with Papa a little while longer,” she said as she approached, her steps slowing when she drew near.
Darcy dropped the reins from his hand and stepped towards her, every intention of leaving forgotten. She stopped before him, her gaze steady, as though waiting for an answer he could not yet form.
Without conscious thought, she lifted her hands; instinctively, he met them, enclosing them in his own.
Her fingers were chilled from the morning air, and he lingered a moment longer than propriety allowed—his touch firm, steady, yet undeniably gentle.
Warmth spread through his chest, disquieting in its strange familiarity, and he made no effort to release her at once.
When he looked at her, his expression was composed, but his eyes carried a weight she could not quite name.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before.
“Your father is relying on your first impression of me being the accurate one,” he said.
The steadiness of his tone could not mask the faint edge beneath it—a trace of disappointment or perhaps something far more vulnerable.
“I am certain it is not,” Elizabeth replied softly, lightly squeezing his hand.
“What I have seen of you these past days is far nearer the truth. Aside from that one unfortunate remark, you have shown me nothing but civility. If you have seemed a little reserved, I now think it more a result of who you are and, perhaps, a mask to hide your discomfort, rather than pride. You yourself admitted you are not comfortable in company. Had people been speaking of me as they did of you when you first entered the assembly rooms, I should not have been enamoured of them either.”
Darcy’s expression softened, and he gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
For a moment, neither spoke, content simply to stand together.
At last he said, “I ought to let you return inside even if it is with some reluctance that I go back to Netherfield. Your mother will soon be awake, and she would no doubt be astonished to find you speaking with me in this manner.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “Yes, that would certainly reveal our secret before we are ready.” She stepped back, reluctantly releasing his hands. “I will see you soon, William.”
They lingered for another heartbeat, their eyes meeting in unspoken reluctance.
With visible hesitation, he rode away. Elizabeth remained where she stood, her hands still tingling from his touch, her gaze fixed on his retreating figure.
Only when he disappeared from view did she draw a quiet breath, her heart aching with the sudden emptiness of his absence.