Page 5

Breakfast Parlor

Netherfield Hall

“Mr. Darcy,” the butler said, “when you have broken your fast, would you please join Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley in the east sitting room?”

“With Mr. Bingley?” Darcy asked with a frown.

“The master left for London this morning, sir.”

“Oh, right, of course, I had forgotten. Yes, I will be there when I am finished eating.”

“Thank you, sir,” the man replied and left the room, leaving Darcy to ponder the unnerving summons. Given that Bingley’s sisters did not like Country hours, and that they had both been up very late indeed, it was odd and ominous that they had come downstairs already.

The most worrisome possibility was that Bingley’s sisters had somehow heard of Elizabeth Bennet’s presence in the library the previous night. But that seemed unlikely, as Miss Bingley had spent most of the evening wafting around the ballroom, dressed in silk and feathers, making regular references to her skill in arranging the festivities of the evening, while Mrs. Hurst, a lazy woman, had probably whiled away the evening in a comfortable chair.

He finished eating his muffin, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stood up. The best way to find out what was going on was to ask.

***

Sitting Room

Netherfield Hall

To Darcy’s profound relief, Bingley’s sisters did not reference Miss Elizabeth at all, instead focusing on Mrs. and Miss Bennet and the former’s belief that her daughter would soon marry Charles Bingley.

“I did hear Mrs. Bennet loudly speak of Miss Bennet’s impending marriage to Bingley,” Mr. Darcy said in a disapproving tone. “It was incredibly vulgar.”

“It was entirely vulgar!” Miss Bingley cried out and shuddered dramatically. “Mr. Darcy, I know you must agree with us that for Charles to be united in marriage to the Bennet family would be a disaster of Biblical proportions! ”

This was, Darcy believed, an exaggeration, but he was in agreement that the Bennets were not the sort of people that would be good in-laws. Of course, he himself had been willing to marry a Bennet daughter only the previous night, but that was due to an emergency.

Also, he had admired Miss Elizabeth a great deal and had thought that she loved him as much as he loved her.

Actually, she despised him.

It was discouraging and painful.

“So we must return to London at once!” Caroline Bingley declared.

He blinked and shook his head to clear it. He undoubtedly had missed part of the conversation.

“What?” he asked.

“Caroline is correct, Mr. Darcy,” Louisa Hurst said, her brow wrinkled. “Charles obviously cares for Miss Bennet, and with Sir William Lucas himself stating last night that the families in this benighted area are expecting Charles to wed Miss Bennet, well, we simply must leave immediately and keep Charles from returning to Netherfield before he is trapped by that dreadful family! ”

They were both staring at him with wide eyes and anxious faces, and for a moment, he was profoundly tempted to depart for London, leaving the exquisite Miss Elizabeth behind. Surely he would overcome this absurd fascination once he was away from the lady’s presence?

But he could not, by honor, do that. Wickham was in the area, and he had turned his ire on Miss Elizabeth by locking her in the library with a man she disliked. If Darcy left, there would be nothing to prevent the vile lieutenant from whispering rumors about the lady’s honor and delicacy. Darcy well knew how silver-tongued Wickham was and how easily he manipulated those around him into believing falsehoods.

No, he could not leave, and he did not want to leave. Now that he knew Miss Elizabeth despised him, he was eager to improve himself in her eyes. He must.

Moreover, there was no great concern about Jane Bennet. He would speak to Bingley when he returned from London and tell him that Miss Bennet, while cheerful and engaging, had never shown any symptom of particular regard toward him and would doubtless accept an offer of marriage out of pragmatism rather than genuine love. Indeed…

But wait .

Had he not been confident that Miss Elizabeth was flirting with him when in fact she profoundly disapproved of him?

He had, and last night’s events made it clear that he had been entirely wrong about her feelings.

If he was so wrong regarding the second Miss Bennet, how could he trust that he understood the heart of the eldest Bennet daughter? Jane Bennet was far quieter than her scintillating next younger sister, but there was a saying, ‘Still waters run deep.’

The truth was that he had no idea at all about the lady’s feelings for Charles Bingley, and thus he had no right to interfere so dramatically.

“So we will have our maids pack up and depart by noon!” Miss Bingley declared, and once again Darcy realized he had missed a portion of the conversation.

“You may go, but I will not,” he said firmly, which provoked shocked looks on the countenances of both ladies.

“I have no desire to return to Town,” he continued, “though you are certainly welcome to do so.”

“But Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Hurst whined, “I fear that Charles will not listen to us if you do not come with us! ”

This was, of course, true enough, and Darcy compressed his lips and said, “That is his business, not mine. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I will go for a ride.”

***

Vestibule

Longbourn

Later

“Is Mr. Bennet at home?” Darcy asked the butler.

In truth, it was unlikely that the master of Longbourn was available at this hour. While technically visiting hours, it was still quite early given that the entire Bennet clan had been at Netherfield until only a few hours previously.

But there was a chance that Miss Elizabeth’s father also kept Country hours, and Darcy had, during his ride, decided he simply must call on the man to explain the near disaster the previous night. After all, Miss Elizabeth’s reputation was in some danger, and he must assure Mr. Bennet that Darcy would do the honorable thing if the Bennet name was besmirched.

“Yes, sir,” the butler said to his surprise and stood back for him to enter. Darcy handed over his coat and hat and cane to a maid standing nearby, and then the butler guided him down one corridor and then into another, at the end of which was a closed door. The butler opened the door, announced Darcy to the master of Longbourn, and then withdrew.

Darcy stepped in and looked around in surprised pleasure. Longbourn was modest compared to Pemberley, and the library was equally modest compared to the vast library of Pemberley, which was the work of many generations, but without a doubt, Mr. Bennet, or one of his ancestors, was an ardent bibliophile.

“Mr. Darcy,” Bennet said, rising to his feet from his chair by the fire. “Good morning. This is a surprise.”

“Mr. Bennet,” Darcy replied, bowing slightly. “Thank you for seeing me. Your library is most impressive, sir.”

Bennet arched one eyebrow and said, “Thank you. It is my favorite room in the house.”

“I can well understand that,” Darcy said, taking a few steps forward to peer at a book lying on the desk, which he now recognized as Plato’s Republic . “I find the Republic a most interesting book, Mr. Bennet. ”

“It is. I do not agree with most of what Plato believes, but his viewpoints are interesting to debate.”

“With whom do you debate?” Darcy asked, inching a little closer to the book.

“With Elizabeth, of course, as she is the only one of my daughters interested in those kinds of books.”

Darcy turned startled eyes on his host. “Miss Elizabeth has read Republic ?”

“She has,” Bennet said and grinned sardonically. “My second daughter is a great reader, and thus a moderately accomplished lady.”

Darcy’s initial bewilderment at this remark gave way to humiliation as a painful memory intruded on his thoughts. A fortnight previously, Jane Bennet had come to visit Bingley’s sisters, and fallen ill, and the next morning Miss Elizabeth had marched three miles through the mud in order to succor her ill sister. She had arrived at Netherfield with untidy hair and mud on her skirts, and her eyes and countenance had been so full of life and liveliness that he had been entirely enchanted.

That very evening, a conversation had arisen in the drawing room regarding the required abilities of a truly accomplished lady, and Darcy and Miss Bingley had come up with a completely ridiculous number of requirements, including a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, and last, but not least, improving her mind by extensive reading.

Miss Elizabeth had treated this with the disdain which it deserved and he realized once again just how much of a pompous ass he was in her eyes.

“It is most impressive,” he said feebly to Mr. Bennet, who was regarding him with twinkling eyes. He shook himself a trifle and continued, “I need to speak to you, sir, about Miss Elizabeth.”

Now his host’s eyes were no longer twinkling, but narrow with suspicion. “What about Elizabeth?”

Darcy blew out a breath and said, “If I may sit down and explain?”

“Very well.”

***

Breakfast Room

Longbour n

Elizabeth had risen late, disturbed by unquiet dreams, and when she finally made her way to the breakfast room, she was horrified to be informed that Mr. Collins had asked for a private interview with her as soon as possible.

Elizabeth had done her best to protest, but resistance proved useless, and she could only watch as her mother bustled from the room, shepherding Kitty in front of her. She had then turned a look of dread on Mr. Collins where he stood bobbing and smiling and looking pleased with himself. There could be only one reason for him asking to see her alone, and Elizabeth had sat down and folded her hands and struggled to listen patiently in spite of her outrage over the situation.

Was it not enough that she had endured an utterly humiliating proposal from Mr. Darcy the previous night? The master of Pemberley was entirely without tact, and though Elizabeth herself set little store by sensibility, even she had marveled at his lack of understanding as she had thrown open the window that was her means of escape. The idea of being forced into matrimony with Mr. Darcy was unthinkable, and any fate at all seemed preferable; the possibility of falling from a trellis seemed to her to be a picnic in comparison.

Elizabeth had not dreamed that such an insulting proposal could possibly be repeated, but here Mr. Collins stood, somehow managing to be almost as offensive. Wry amusement warred with outrage as he droned on about his patroness, his living, his own worthy standing, and his generosity in not seeking a dowry from her. It was the last straw, and she ruthlessly interrupted him.

“Mr. Collins, I am altogether sensible of the honor you are doing me and am impressed by your kindness, but I could never in good conscience accept your hand. I do not doubt your veracity that your situation is an entirely advantageous one, and I fully acknowledge the likelihood you have so conscientiously pointed out that I may never receive another offer, as poorly dowered as I am. Despite these very grave considerations, I must decline your most generous offer.”

Mr. Collins gaped at her like a trout, momentarily silenced, and Elizabeth rose with the intention of departing before he could gather his composure. However, nothing could fluster him for long, and she had not made it halfway to the door before he spoke again.

“Your maidenly reserve does you credit, Cousin, and I assure you that the violence of my passions has abated not a jot in the face of your demure refusal. I shall speak with your esteemed father forthwith, and I have no doubt that he will approve my plan to provide for you and your family in the case of his decease – which, as I have said, will almost certainly be many years yet hence. Having received his approval, you cannot fail to be swayed by the acceptability of my suit. ”

Elizabeth turned back towards him in consternation and said, “I am entirely sincere in my refusal, sir, and I do beg you not to imagine that applying to my father will do anything to change my mind. As flattering as your offer is, I cannot accept.”

Hoping that her tone had not betrayed the frustration that was getting the best of her, Elizabeth gathered her dignity about herself and departed at speed.

***

“My dear Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet cried out as Elizabeth left the breakfast parlor. “Many congratulations on your engagement!”

Elizabeth winced and was, for a moment, tempted to prevaricate. Really, after Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Collins, must she now argue with Mrs. Bennet?

But yes, she must.

“I did not accept Mr. Collins’s offer of marriage,” she said baldly.

Her mother’s expression shifted from joy to outrage in a moment.

“What?!” she screeched .

“Mother, Mr. Collins and I would not be happy together…”

“Elizabeth Elinor Bennet, you will marry Mr. Collins, do you hear? I absolutely insist on it!”