A Ride with Mr. Darcy Page 8

  “Yes!” Kitty and Lydia said together.

  “They will be nearly upon the house by now,” Lydia said. “For Mama bade us come get you when we first glimpsed Mr. Bingley come up the drive.”

  Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a nervous look. They grasped each other’s hands and began to walk again towards the house. Elizabeth was not certain what made her so nervous to meet Mr. Darcy once more, other than she had not thought it would happen. In the days since her return from Derbyshire, she had spent much time telling herself that Mr. Darcy’s attentions were the mark of a good host, nothing more. She had spent an equal time convincing herself that she did not wish for his attentions to signal something more.

  Elizabeth had begun that morning fully convinced that Mr. Darcy’s acquaintance was one with which to remember fondly amid a time of trial and discomfort. But it was an acquaintance that would not likely be renewed. And that was just what Elizabeth desired. However, the grip with which she held Jane’s hand had begun to weaken her resolve in these matters.

  “What is he doing here?” Jane whispered fiercely to Elizabeth, casting a glance behind to ensure that Kitty and Lydia could not overhear their exchange. “I thought that our association was finished!”

  “I shall not venture a guess until we hear what the man has to say,” Elizabeth said quietly. She had a strong suspicion that Mr. Bingley had called to renew that association and to negotiate a closer relationship going forward, but Elizabeth did not wish to say this aloud in case she was wrong. Jane’s heart had already endured far too much woe at the hand of Mr. Bingley.

  However, if Mr. Bingley was not at Longbourn to renew his acquaintance with Jane, Elizabeth thought, then Mr. Darcy could anticipate a severe reprimand from Elizabeth. She had confided far more about Jane’s feelings towards Mr. Bingley than was appropriate, and if Mr. Darcy had brought the man to call for any reason other than affection… Well, Mr. Darcy was a far more cruel person than Elizabeth had ever believed possible.

  Mrs. Bennet stood at the back door of Longbourn, anxiously waving at her daughters.

  “Jane,” she hissed, not wanting to yell, but needing her voice to carry. “Jane, you must come this instant! Hurry! For Mr. Bingley awaits you in the sitting room!”

  Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a final look before Jane released Elizabeth’s hand, lifted her skirts several inches, and hastened her pace.

  Elizabeth did not match her sister, for her ankle still ached after a long day and she had no wish to reinjure herself when she was so near full health. However, even with her slowed pace, Jane was still in the doorway when Elizabeth reached the house.

  “So pale,” Mrs. Bennet said, fretting over Jane’s appearance. She pinched Jane’s cheeks, hard, and rearranged Jane’s perfectly arranged hair. “But it will have to do, we cannot keep him waiting any longer.”

  “She looks fine, Mama,” Elizabeth said. “There is no need to fuss!”

  “Lizzy, dear,” Mrs. Bennet said, casting an eye to her second daughter. “Someday, if you are blessed, you will know exactly why I fuss. Until then, I beg you leave me be!” She tried to move her attentions to Elizabeth, but Elizabeth ducked out of the way. “Fine! If you want to appear windswept and wild, then so be it!” Mrs. Bennet turned and led Jane by the hand toward the sitting room.

  Elizabeth paused to examine her appearance in the hall looking glass. She did appear slightly windswept, but Elizabeth suddenly determined that she would not alter her appearance for the sake of Mr. Darcy. No, there was no reason to afford him such effort. She continued her walk towards the waiting men, unconsciously patting down the flyaway curls escaping the knot at her neck.

  “Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth heard Mrs. Bennet say. “Please excuse us for making you wait. My Jane does love sitting in the garden and with such fine weather today…”

  “Not at all, Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Bingley replied. Elizabeth now stood in the doorway and could see that Mr. Bingley was standing before Jane and Mrs. Bennet, his hands clasped behind his back, a nervous smile playing across his lips. Elizabeth slowly made her way into the room, trying to remain unnoticed for the time being.

  “You must forgive our intrusion,” Mr. Bingley said. “For we did not intend on calling today, but when your house appeared over the hill as we were riding, we were overcome with the sudden desire to reignite our old acquaintance.”

  “You are most welcome at any time,” Mrs. Bennet said breathily. “And you too, I suppose, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth felt her lips tighten at her mother’s addition towards Mr. Darcy—it was just shy of being rude!

  “We are most grateful to see you once more, Mr. Bingley,” Jane said quietly as she curtsied in greeting.

  “And I to see you, Miss Bennet,” Mr. Bingley replied, all of his attention upon Jane.

  Elizabeth watched the scene with a growing certainty that she had been correct in her guess about why Mr. Bingley had returned. It seemed very much as though he was just as taken with Jane as he was all those months ago.

  As she observed her sister, mother, and Mr. Bingley, she felt Mr. Darcy’s eyes upon her. She could sense that his gaze had fixed upon her when she first entered the room and had not wavered since. It made her nervous, and her mouth grew quite dry. She could not articulate, even to herself, why she was so nervous under his stare but she knew that it would take uncommon effort to return his gaze.

  With a deep breath, she slowly turned her eyes towards Mr. Darcy. He was, as she knew he would be, looking at her. The intensity with which he stared, however, caused her to draw a sharp intake of breath.

  “What brings you to the country?” Elizabeth asked, turning to Mr. Bingley. She was unable to maintain her connection with Mr. Darcy.

  “The shooting,” Mr. Bingley said, turning and smiling at Elizabeth. “And good day to you too, Miss Elizabeth. It is good to see you again.” He bowed.

  Elizabeth realised she had simply uttered her question without any proper introductions. Shame flooded her and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, giving them that rosy hue Mrs. Bennet had attempted to pinch on a moment before.

  “And you, Mr. Bingley.” She curtsied in return. “Mr. Darcy,” she said, more softly, her greeting towards him sounding much more uncertain to her ears.

  “Well, sirs,” Mrs. Bennet fluttered about. “When you have taken all your own birds, you must come and have some sport with ours. Mr. Bennet does not care for the sport and I think all the birds of the county must know it! For they plague our lands as they do no other in all of Hertfordshire!” She began to sit, but jumped up as if she had set down upon a pin. “Tea! Would you like some tea?”

  “That would be most excellent. Thank you, Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Bingley said with a smile.

  “Good! Well, please, sit down and talk, and I will ring for some refreshment.” Mrs. Bennet waved her hands towards her daughters and guests.

  Elizabeth took a seat in a chair somewhat removed from the main conversation area, where Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, Jane, and (she noticed for the first time) Mary sat. Elizabeth reddened slightly at not noticing the presence of her younger sister.

  “I think it rather cruel to call the activity sport,” Mary said, in what she thought was a conversational tone. Elizabeth groaned internally, Mary had little intuition for what would be an appropriate subject of conversation.

  “I beg your pardon?” Mr. Bingley said, his smile faltering.

  “Shooting. It is not much sport for the birds,” Mary said, smoothing her skirt. No one said anything for long moments. Even Mrs. Bennet’s smile had threatened to fall.

  “Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth finally said, unable to bear the awkward silence any longer—although she had to admit, she surprised even herself by addressing the very man whose gaze she had moments ago avoided. “How is your sister? I trust she is in good health and spirits?”

  “Very much so,” Mr. Darcy replied, a small smile upon his lips. His eyes had momentarily fastened upon Mary, but Elizabeth noted with a blush that he had on
ce again focused upon her. “She much enjoys the pianoforte she received for her birthday. She would play it at all hours would her governess allow it.”

  “I am sure,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “I remember her telling us of her joy in the activity. It remains one of my great disappointments that I was unable to hear her play while at Pemberley.”

  “Georgiana too wishes that your visit had been longer,” Mr. Darcy said, seeming to relax a bit into the conversation. “She has spoken fondly of your brief meeting several times since your departure.”

  “Elizabeth told us all about your sister, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bennet interjected. Elizabeth stiffened, uncertain what her mother intended to say. For the truth was, Elizabeth’s mention of Georgiana Darcy to Mrs. Bennet had only extended as far as her existence and her pleasant nature. “I understand you have much of which to be proud.”

  “Indeed, I do, Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Darcy’s gaze turned now upon Elizabeth’s mother. “I thank you for saying as much.”

  “It is my pleasure, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bennet said. “In fact, I would be much mistaken if I did not take this opportunity to thank you for your gracious care of Elizabeth.”

  Mr. Darcy looked startled, clearly not expecting this gratitude. Elizabeth too was surprised, for her mother was often hard pressed to find anything kind to say about Mr. Darcy.

  “Please, Mrs. Bennet, I only did what anyone would have,” he replied, sounding nervous.

  For a reason Elizabeth could not quite understand, she felt a small pit of disappointment begin to form within her. Would he truly have treated anyone in the same manner with which he treated her?

  “You still have our gratitude, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bennet said. “I am certain my husband would say the same. Know that you are always welcome at Longbourn, whenever you should want or require our hospitality, such as it is.”

  Elizabeth was now further surprised at her mother’s action: This was most unexpected! Mr. Darcy, too, looked startled but pleased at Mrs. Bennet’s sudden warmth.

  This whole time, Elizabeth had noted that Mr. Bingley and Jane had exchanged embarrassed looks, but no more words had passed between them. She was about to initiate a conversation between them when Mr. Bingley suddenly stood up.

  “Well, this has been quite lovely, but we must be going,” he said, giving Mr. Darcy a significant look.

  “So soon?” Mrs. Bennet asked, looking distressed. “But I’ve just ordered tea.”

  Mr. Bingley bowed in Mrs. Bennet’s direction, a mournful look on his face.

  “Unavoidable, I’m afraid,” he said. “I have just remembered an unavoidable appointment that Darcy and I must uphold. Unavoidable.”

  “Yes, you said that,” Mrs. Bennet said, sounding worried. “But you shall return before you depart from Netherfield?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Bingley said, eyeing Jane from the corner of his eye. “Yes, if you will have us. But for now, this unavoidable appointment.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Darcy said, standing to join his friend. “We are most grateful. Perhaps we may call again tomorrow?”

  “Yes, tomorrow,” Mr. Bingley said, sounding oddly strangled. “Tomorrow?”

  “Certainly,” Mrs. Bennet said, standing as well. Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary stood with her, curtsying to the men.

  “Goodbye,” Mr. Bingley said, bowing quickly before hurrying from the room. Mr. Darcy bowed a bit more gracefully but followed his friend out of the door. Elizabeth, Jane, and Mrs. Bennet stared after the departing men.

  “Jane,” Elizabeth breathed. “Whatever did you do to Mr. Bingley?”

  “I have no idea,” Jane breathed, an astonished expression on her face. Dropping to a whisper, she said to her sister: “But I think the better question is: what was happening between you and Mr. Darcy?”

  Elizabeth shushed her quickly, not wanting Mrs. Bennet to hear the exchange. But the question remained in her mind: What was happening with Mr. Darcy?

  Chapter 12

  Darcy

  “So,” Darcy said after he and Bingley had remounted their horses and were on their way back toward Netherfield. “Are we going to talk about what happened back there?” Darcy had been surprised to see Bingley’s panic overwhelm him to the point of fabricating an “unavoidable” appointment.

  Bingley groaned.

  “I don’t know what happened!” He said emphatically. “One moment, I’m listening politely to Mrs. Bennet, smiling at Jane, and then, my mind is telling me we have to go! The moment overwhelmed me, Jane was far more pleasant than my memories, we were getting along so well… I just panicked. Tell me, do you think I’ve ruined everything?”

  “Hardly,” Darcy said encouragingly. It was the truth. He did not think Bingley had damaged his chances with Jane: The looks between the two would be enough evidence of that. However, Darcy did think that their sudden departure would confuse the Bennet women. He did not want to focus upon that, however, as Bingley was feeling wretched enough as it was.

  “I think, however, when we return, we should have a more detailed plan,” he said. “It seems that improvising was not the best idea, especially since that resulted in our premature departure.”

  “Yes,” Bingley agreed with a sigh. “I think you are correct.”

  They continued to ride on for a few minutes in silence, and Darcy lapsed into thinking about Elizabeth. They had not had any opportunity to converse, much to his regret, but she had looked wonderful. It was clear that she was much recovered from her accident, and that the warm Hertfordshire air was doing wonders. She had come into the room with her hair slightly out of place, cheeks warmed by the sun, looking happy and content. She was beautiful in this natural state.

  “Darcy,” Bingley said, interrupting his thoughts of Elizabeth.

  “Hmmm?” Darcy replied, not looking at his friend.

  “You say we need a plan,” Bingley continued. “For the next time we visit?”

  “Anything to avoid a repeat of what happened today,” Darcy clarified. “I think a plan would be the best course of action.”

  “What do you think of this: Tomorrow, when we call upon the Bennets, I propose to Jane at once.”

  Darcy whipped his head around toward Bingley, shocked by this sudden statement.

  “Propose? Are you mad?” Darcy asked. “After running out like we just did, you think the best manner in which to improve our standing with Jane and Elizabeth is for you to immediately propose?”

  “Hear me out,” Bingley said in a calming tone. “I know it sounds mad, but I promise you, it makes sense.”

  “I am not sure the words exist in any language known to man that would convince me this is a good idea,” Darcy replied dryly. “But please, continue.”

  “I panicked because I know precisely why I am in Hertfordshire: I am here to make Jane my wife. So why delay? It is the delay that has me so flustered, so why not simply take away that delay?”

  Darcy rode on and considered Bingley’s logic. In some ways, it did make sense: He was a man who knew what he wanted. And, much to Darcy’s shame, he had been kept from the path and the woman he wanted for many months. However, Darcy also tried to think about how Bingley’s sudden proposal might be interpreted from the female side. The suddenness of such a thing might result in a negative reaction. Especially if Mrs. Bennet were involved.

  “Bingley,” Darcy said after fully considering the possibility. “I am in full support of whatever decision you decide to make…”

  “Excellent!” Bingley said, interrupting. “Then you agree I should propose tomorrow?”

  “Wait a moment,” Darcy said, holding up his hand. “I have some additional thoughts.”

  Bingley looked disgruntled, but allowed Darcy to continue speaking.

  “Have you considered how such a sudden pronouncement might impact Jane?” Darcy asked. “How she might take it?”

  Bingley’s cheeks flushed and he now looked embarrassed: it appeared that his friend had not thought much abo
ut how his lady would react.

  “I am loath to admit,” Bingley said. “But I did not think about how startling it may be for Jane.”

  “Yes,” Darcy said, slightly amused. “Yes, I thought as much. For Jane’s sake, I advise caution and patience. I am certain she will say ‘yes,’ but give her a chance to become reacquainted with you. And you with her.”

  “She is just as I remembered,” Bingley sighed. “Just as sweet, and kind, and beautiful. But you are wise to advise patience. As eager as I am to begin the next chapter of my life, you are right.”

  “I know the pain of a proposal rejected,” Darcy shared. “I proposed much too early to Elizabeth, without considering her feelings on the matter. I would hate for you to suffer the same fate.”

  “A wise reflection,” Bingley said somewhat somberly.

  “When we return tomorrow, what do you think of this: We invite Jane, Elizabeth, and their sisters if we must, to walk with us through their park. That way the focus is not solely upon conversation and gives us plenty of other things to ask about and make note of. It will make things easier,” Darcy proposed. Elizabeth, he knew, loved to walk.

  “A fine idea,” Bingley agreed. “Miss Elizabeth in particular enjoys the countryside, does she not?” Darcy glanced over and saw Bingley’s sly smile.

  “I believe so,” he said noncommittally. He did not want to admit that his plan was distinctly in place for his advantage with Elizabeth.

  “Well, you have not yet thanked me for saving you with our abrupt departure,” Bingley said in an amused tone.

  “Excuse me?” Darcy asked, surprised and annoyed. “Saved me? From what? I believe I was handling things quite well before your bizarre display!”

  “Were you?” Bingley laughed. “You were staring so hard I was afraid that your eyes would burn a hole through the young lady!”

  Darcy immediately reddened. To be certain, he had found his eyes drawn to Elizabeth throughout the visit, but surely it was not to a detrimental level. But if Bingley had noticed it enough to say something…