Chapter 3
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy in Hertfordshire
Observing the rain-soaked lawn of Netherfield from his window, Darcy revelled in the quiet, the previous night’s assembly remarkably faded from his mind, though it required no specific memory to realize that it had been equal parts dull, disquieting, and cacophonous.
Shoulders lowering as the ache which began at Ramsgate and had been exacerbated at the assembly threatened to return, Darcy considered the source of his displeasure.
If only more time might have passed before Bingley’s invitation had been accepted.
Finding enjoyment lent challenge enough, being expected to cavort at some unassuming country assembly proved beyond the pale.
Frowning, the anger felt at Bingley and indeed the entire assembly for enjoying themselves so soon after his dear sister’s near ruination burned for much longer than it ought before good sense might return.
None of them knew of Georgie’s plight, nor of his own inept culpability–the governess his choosing, the decision to delay joining her unpardonable, and Georgiana’s heartbreak resting on his shoulders.
No. Even Bingley did not know; his thoughts turned to Netherfield and a handsome young woman.
Thinking on these things and the evening the night prior, a pair of fine eyes and a kind, mischievous smile painted a rather pretty picture in his mind.
Perhaps the incident with Georgiana is why he chose not to do as Bingley suggested and dance with Miss Elizabeth?
Indeed, she, though not in possession of the same fashionable beauty of her elder sister, proved quite fine.
If only her prospects and family were not leagues beneath him, he could well find himself tempted to strike up an acquaintance…
not that he could not do so now. Truly. He could strike up an acquaintance.
Polite conversation. Infrequent interactions.
These, she would not mistake for an interest in courtship; no, a woman of genteel breeding would know not to expect more.
She would have the good sense to look elsewhere for a husband and be grateful for the advantages that friendship with a man of his station might bring.
Yes. He would proffer his friendship, and of that she would be most grateful.
A half-knock at the door followed by the eager voice of Bingley filled the air. “Care for a short ride? I was thinking about returning Mr. Bennet’s courtesy of calling upon me when I first arrived.”
“I shall be down momentarily,” Darcy returned, his face brightening as he pulled on his boots himself instead of calling for his valet.
A swift ride, an escape from Netherfield, and a chance to proffer his friendship all in one?
Bingley could scarcely know how pleasant his decision might prove for them both.
Well, if he managed to keep Bingley from becoming too involved with Miss Bennet–it would be a sad thing to see a repeat of last autumn.
Within half an hour the pair were positioned in the Bennet’s best room, Mrs. Bennet’s pleasure at their visit a topic spoken of at length as he and Bingley listened to her politely.
To his right on two small chairs sat the youngest Miss Bennets near their mother, the middle sister to the far left, and the eldest two seated in a well-positioned beam of sunlight across from them, their hair and eyes all but shining in the light.
“I cannot tell you how thrilled we are to have such lively company,” Mrs. Bennet rhapsodized, “and so soon after the assembly. Mr. Bingley, I am certain you have been told many times that you are an excellent dancer, but it is true in every respect. Indeed, aside from my Jane here, I have hardly seen better. It is rare to see as handsome a couple as you two made last evening who also possess such marked skill…”
“Mamma,” Miss Elizabeth rushed, “as the day is at last dry, was there not an errand you wished us to discharge? It is but three days until a certain event you may recall; we do not have much time.”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Bennet flapped her handkerchief in Miss Elizabeth’s direction.
“Run along if you must… and take Mary and Kitty with you, yes, and Lydia too. I am certain it shall take you all. What of you, Mr. Darcy? I suppose an active man such as yourself would require exercise, and as you did not dance last evening, I am certain walking must be much more to your liking. Mr. Bingley though, oh, I imagine you are as wearied as my dear Jane… not that it was too much for her, mind, she is of excellent health, but you and she did dance a great deal. I would not wish to overtax either of you.”
“No ma’am, I quite agree,” Bingley rushed, his hand coming to rest on Darcy’s arm, his eyes crinkling in some wicked amusement, “Though, as you say, my friend here does seem in need of a good walk; far too pale in my opinion.”
“I would be honoured to escort your daughters,” Darcy announced as he stood, a light bow in Mrs. Bennet’s direction and a firm scowl in Bingley’s.
True, a walk sounded a far better use of time–particularly when his friendship with Miss Elizabeth might be begun–but Bingley’s smug mein could lower any man’s good humour.
“Miss Elizabeth. Miss Mary. Miss Kitty. Miss Lydia,” he remarked to each sister as they moved toward the door, his attention lingering on the first’s soaked bonnet and gloves. “Shall we?”
Nodding, Miss Elizabeth took the lead, his own long stride required to find pace with her until, just as he matched her, she halted, his footing awkward as he came to a stop in a rather muddy puddle.
“Kitty,” Miss Elizabeth hummed. “Did you not need to visit Maria? You and Mary ought to hurry there, for I believe she has received some exquisite new fashion plates, and a new sheet of music as well. Something to interest you both!”
Gaze quizzical as he viewed Miss Elizabeth and then the wide eyes and furrowed brows of her sisters, Darcy took half a step back. A device to leave her and he with only one sister to chaperone them? He had thought her less devious, less eager to catch a husband? Yet, what else could this be?
“Why must I stay behind?” Miss Lydia whined. “Maria is as much my friend as Kitty’s, and Mary is nothing to her. If anyone must go with you, why not she?”
Sighing, Miss Elizabeth shook her head, “Ought not Mary have the opportunity to learn a new piece while Kitty enjoys the fashion plates?” Eyes lifting heavenward as Miss Lydia crossed her arms in defiance, Miss Elizabeth gave way. “Go. I can complete our errands far quicker on my own in any case.”
Alone? They would be alone? It might not be remote, few would contrive impropriety, but alone?
Gulping, Darcy took a full step back. Attractive. Engaging. Lively. She certainly would not make the worst Mrs. Darcy in those respects, but her family, her finances. Would she truly seek a compromise?
Her sisters making their way in the opposite direction, Miss Elizabeth turned in his, her eyes bright as she smiled up at him.
“There, you have your peace. I imagine that your lack of enjoyment with dancing lends itself to a dislike of exertion of any sort, so you may be on your way in the knowledge that you were as polite a guest of my mother’s as we expected; I know the way to Meryton, you can be sure. ”
Blinking, he studied her closely. A tightness of brow.
A tapping foot. She appeared in some agitation.
Perhaps her plan to leave them unattended had been more successful than she had thought?
Yet, her words were bordering on rude, or was it embarrassment?
Yes, embarrassment, that must be it. He ought to do as she suggested then and leave her alone, but that would be ungentlemanly.
“I am actually rather fond of walking,” Darcy supplied as he motioned toward Meryton, Miss Elizabeth hesitating for but a moment before the two began to walk side by side.
The world silent save for the song of birds, rustling wind, and the soft thud of their footfalls, Darcy observed Miss Elizabeth from the corner of his eye.
Lips pressed. Eyes anywhere but on him, she proved a conundrum. One which he wished to solve before their short walk placed them in Meryton.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he remarked, her attention turning to him at last. “Do you travel often to London? Meryton is so near, it must be an easy journey.”
A lone brow raising, she tilted her head before answering, “Not too often. With five daughters and a disinclination for London society, my father prefers to stay us all away. Were it not for my aunt and uncle who reside there, I believe we would never journey to London.”
“I can understand your father’s disinclination. The city does have its charms, but it is exacting in its expectations; a play one evening, a ball another, and little enough time for the tasks one must accomplish in-between."
“You, I take it then, prefer country life to London society? I would have thought the reverse.”
“True. I suppose for a man of my years to prefer country life to London would be surprising, and many men may well prefer the city, however, a man in my position can often find London society tedious, what with all those young ladies and their mamma’s out to capture rich husbands.
It is a constant, I fear. Though not limited to London truly, I suspect there may be more ladies of that ilk there.
Still, the country is as filled with them as anywhere, and in the broad light of day instead of candlelight many of them are not so handsome. ”
Turning as Miss Elizabeth came to a halt, Darcy’s thoughts swirled at the sight before him. Her hands clenched, feet and shoulders set wide, and a glare he had never seen matched lent no end of confusion.
Whatever had he said?