Chapter 4 #2
Early the following morning, Darcy caught sight of the familiar gates of Netherfield Park.
He had not expected that such anticipation would course through him at the prospect of seeing Bingley again.
But then, his feelings had little to do with his friend and everything to do with the possibility, however remote, that Elizabeth might be visiting her sister.
Their reception at Netherfield exceeded Darcy’s memories of Bingley’s warmth.
Mrs. Bingley welcomed them both as if they were long-lost family members, while Bingley’s enthusiasm nearly knocked them from their feet.
But it was the familiar figure rising from the settee in the morning room that made Darcy’s breath catch.
“Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said, offering a perfectly proper curtsey. “What a…surprise.”
“Miss Bennet.” Darcy bowed, hoping his voice betrayed nothing of the elation singing through his veins.
If he could find a way to get her alone, he could propose, setting in motion his plans to marry prior to their ship’s departure.
He only needed to rid himself of his curious cousin.
“You left Rosings Park suddenly. I hope you are well.”
“I am well, thank you.” Her smile was polite and distant, the expected deportment of an accomplished lady. “I trust your journey from your aunt’s estate was pleasant?”
“We are from Cambridge on our way to Town.” Richard sat next to Miss Bennet. “Shortly after you departed Kent, Darcy received a summons from an old professor with an intriguing commission for me and a weighty task for my cousin.”
“Professor?” Elizabeth held her teacup still halfway to her lips.
“Professor Phineas Drye.” Richard turned toward her.
The color drained from her cheeks. Darcy studied her with an intensity that would have been improper had anyone noticed.
But his cousin was watching, too, his shrewd eyes moving between them with interest. “Professor Drye mentioned your father also received an invitation. Will he be traveling alone?”
Her chin lifted. “I will travel with him.”
“How fortuitous that we shall all be journeying to the Mediterranean,” Darcy ventured, unable to suppress the excitement in his voice. “Perchance we might arrange passage on the same vessel.”
“The same vessel?” She looked from Darcy to Richard. “Do you mean that both of you are part of Professor Drye’s expedition?”
The news unsettled her. The way she stared at him, as if he had announced some terrible catastrophe, was more painful than any direct rebuke could have been. Her obvious distress pained Darcy.
Fortunately, Richard responded to her question. “Why, yes. Surely, Professor Drye mentioned—”
“Only that there were three invitations.” Elizabeth’s voice sounded strained as she struggled to regain her equilibrium. “He did not provide any names.”
“Professor Drye summoned us to pursue scrolls missing from the lost Library of Alexandria,” Richard interjected, sensing the tension in the air. “He spoke most highly of Mr. Bennet’s expertise in ancient languages.”
“Yes, my father is captivated by Greek and Latin,” she said. Darcy caught a slight edge beneath her polite comment. “I had not realized the expedition would be so…comprehensive in its participants.”
“You seem surprised,” his cousin observed.
“Not surprised, precisely.” Elizabeth’s smile was brittle as she set down her cup with deliberate precision.
Her movements were a shade too careful. “Merely adjusting my expectations. Forgive me. I had assumed gentlemen of my father’s age, his peers, would be in attendance.
The mistake was mine.” She did not look at Darcy, which made her meaning undeniably clear.
Her slight emphasis on expectations was unmistakable.
For a moment, Darcy saw a flash of despair cross her features before she composed herself. “My uncle Gardiner has already secured passage for my father and me aboard the Mary Catherine. I am sure that you will find suitable accommodations elsewhere.”
Cold settled in Darcy’s stomach, and he struggled to maintain equanimity. “Of course, I shall make my own arrangements.”
“You say that your uncle Gardiner booked your passage. How did he come to decide upon the Mary Catherine for your voyage?” Richard asked.
“He owns the Mary Catherine and several other ships. Gardiner Imports is a successful business,” Elizabeth replied sharply. “Though I suppose that might not be apparent to everyone.”
Darcy winced. He had failed to realize that his past prejudices would color her opinion of him. Elizabeth’s reference to her uncle’s business was a test. She wanted to see whether he would reveal the same superciliousness that had once made him deem her family beneath his notice.
In an attempt to restore order, he said, “I was unaware that Mr. Edward Gardiner was your uncle. His excellent reputation precedes him. The port and brandy we keep at Darcy House come from his warehouses.” Darcy was impressed.
“Any man who commands such respect in London’s commercial circles must be exceptional. ”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose. She had not expected this response. “I agree.”
The conversation continued, but Darcy noticed the distance Elizabeth maintained, not only physically, but in every word and gesture. She was witty and engaging with the others. With him, she was coolly polite, nothing more.
His heart hurt.
The walls of Netherfield’s cheerful morning room seemed to close in around Elizabeth. The prospect of spending weeks, or months, in Mr. Darcy’s company filled her with a dread she struggled to conceal.
Even as the thought formed, however, she dismissed it. This was her father’s dream. She had seen the prospect light him from within and would not be the one to dim them, no matter the personal cost. And possibly there were no more cabins available on the Mary Catherine. That would be good news.
Drawing upon every lesson in comportment her aunt Gardiner had drilled into her, Elizabeth forced herself to speak with perfect civility. “I confess to being curious about our other companion. Pray tell, who received the third invitation?”
“Lord Marcus Burton of Waverly Park in Yorkshire,” Colonel Fitzwilliam readily replied. “A distinguished scholar, according to Professor Drye.”
“However,” Mr. Darcy added. “Lord Burton’s wife is gravely ill. Professor Drye mentioned that the invitation would pass to his son, Lord Arnold Russell Burton, Viscount Levinson, should Lord Burton be unavailable to travel.”
“Are you acquainted with the viscount?” Elizabeth asked the colonel, grasping at any topic that did not require her to look directly at Mr. Darcy.
“I am afraid not. Though I believe he is younger than we are. If he is like his father, he is well educated, though in Scotland rather than Cambridge.”
“Indeed.” Mr. Darcy’s tone suggested a lack of optimism that Viscount Levinson’s presence would contribute anything meaningful to the group.
Elizabeth nodded, filing away this information while her mind raced. If she could not escape this situation, she must master it. Her father deserved her full support, and she would not allow her personal feelings about Mr. Darcy to taint what should be the high point of his lifetime.
She would be pleasant but reserved. She would focus on treating Mr. Darcy with the same courteous indifference she might show any slight acquaintance.
Surely, in a group of several people aboard different ships, it would be possible to minimize their interactions.
The Mediterranean was vast, after all. Ancient ruins were sprawling.
There would be ample opportunity to explore separate areas, thus ensuring that they need not spend more time in each other’s company than necessary.
“How fascinating.” She was calmer now, having formed her resolution. “I am eager to begin this journey, despite the…unexpected composition of our party.”
Let Mr. Darcy make of that what he would. After all, how difficult could it be to avoid one man? She was, she reminded herself, resourceful when the situation demanded it.
The irony was not lost on her that she planned her campaign as methodically as any general preparing for battle. The only difference was that her victory would be measured by territory successfully avoided instead of territory gained.
As the cousins rode toward London, Richard said what they both knew. “She does not like you.”
“I am now aware of that.”
“More than that. She dislikes you.” His cousin’s tone was matter-of-fact, not unkind.
“Thank you for freely offering your enlightening opinion.” Darcy could not keep the bitter sarcasm from his voice.
“What did you do to her?”
“I…” Darcy struggled with how to explain without revealing too much. “I was not at my best when we first met. I may have given offense.”
“May have?” The colonel reined in his horse to a stop. “Darcy, the woman looks at you as if you hurt her favorite puppy. Given what I observed―the way she spoke of her uncle’s trade, the emphasis on you finding separate transport―I suspect your offense had to do with her station in life.”
“I was…less than gracious about certain matters.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned. “You let your pride show, I wager. You thought yourself above her connections.”
“Something like that.” How on earth could he have been so wrong about her?
Tapping his heels on his horse’s flanks, Richard shook his head. “And now you are in love with her.”
It was not a question, but Darcy answered anyway. “Yes.”
“Well, Cousin, I hope you are prepared for a campaign. If you expect simply to declare your intentions and have her fall gratefully into your arms, you are much mistaken. That woman has steel in her spine, and your fortune or your name do not impress her.”
Darcy now suspected as much, but hearing it stated so plainly was sobering. “What do you suggest?”
“Court her. Properly. Show her you are not the arrogant man she believes you to be. And for heaven’s sake, do not assume she will be grateful for your attention. She has never cared about your approval and is not likely to seek it now.”
The colonel was correct, and Darcy knew it.
When they rode away from Netherfield Park, he glimpsed Elizabeth through the window.
She was laughing at a quip from Mrs. Bingley, and the sight tugged at his heart.
His resolve strengthened. She might not welcome his suit, but he would earn her regard, however long it might take.
After all, they would travel to the same destination. What could possibly go wrong?