Page 49

S pruce and neat, Darcy rode beside Bingley towards Longbourn. They were very early, and would have to wait outside the gates until the calling hour began. But he couldn’t stay away.

“I am glad Mrs. Bingley sent you notice that she was staying with Lady Elizabeth last night,” he said quietly as the horses ambled along the lane.

Bingley nodded. “She would not have been happy leaving her so soon after her trouble.” He glanced at Darcy. “Do you think the duke will arrive today?”

Darcy allowed a smile. “I will be very surprised if he had not arrived as soon as light allowed the journey.”

Bingley laughed. “I suppose a duke need not wait for the strictures of the calling hour.”

“I think, duke or no, Mr. Bennet would have expected him for breakfast.”

“Will he wish to speak to you? After all, you saved his daughter from a difficult and dangerous situation.”

“I don’t think wish is quite the right word, Bingley. I think he will make himself speak to me, though he undoubtedly does not wish to.”

“Does it disquiet you?”

“I don’t know how I feel about it, to be straight with you.” Darcy grimaced at Bingley’s knowing smile. “I wonder if he may permit some slight easing of the estrangement between the families, but it is a hard thing for a proud and stubborn man to do.”

“You would know, of course!” Bingley’s teasing smile forced a rueful answering smile. Darcy had to acknowledge the truth of his words, although it stung.

But he would endure anything that might improve the chance of being able to associate with Elizabeth and keep his hopes — however faint — alive.

It seemed an endless five minutes, standing outside the gates of Longbourn until their pocket watches reached the hour, then they proceeded to the front door, Darcy dismounting with alacrity.

Would Elizabeth be downstairs this morning? Might he have the opportunity of a brief word with her? Would the duke send him packing? He drew a deep breath. He would know soon enough.

The housekeeper announced them into the drawing room, and in one glance he saw that Elizabeth was not downstairs, although Mrs. Bingley was, and he saw his friend crossing the room to bow over his wife’s hand.

Darcy bowed at the duke, sitting uncomfortably amid the abbreviated Bennet family. “Your Grace,” he murmured, and turned to Bennet, who at least had had the manners not to vanish into his own library.

“Good morning, Mr. Bennet. I trust Lady Elizabeth is well.” He grimaced, perhaps he ought to have directed that question at the duke.

“Mrs. Bingley tells us that Elizabeth had a comfortable night, although she did not sleep much.” Bennet answered the question easily enough.

Then he smiled mischievously. “She is apparently waiting with some semblance of patience for the apothecary, so she can rail against his instruction that she must remain upstairs for the next few days.”

Darcy tried to prevent his lips twitching. That one sentence told him that she was much as usual, and his heart warmed. He noted the proud paternal expression on the duke’s face, but attempted not to show he’d noticed. At least the man cared for his daughter.

He turned to Mr. Bennet again. “I trust Mrs. Bennet was not too distressed yesterday about what happened. Is she well?” The absence of the lady of the house was unusual, considering the presence of their exalted guest.

“Unfortunately, she remains indisposed,” Mr. Bennet said without inflection. “Mary is our hostess this morning.” He indicated the middle daughter, who gave her eldest sister a panicked look.

Mrs. Bingley smiled easily. “I have asked for refreshments to be brought to us, Mr. Darcy. Please feel free to take a seat.”

“Thank you.” Darcy chose a seat that was not the furthest away from the duke, although he could not quite countenance taking the nearest.

Darcy thought Bingley’s presence was a blessing to them all.

He took a seat next to his wife, and made easy conversation, beginning with the shortbread biscuits that had arrived with the tea trays.

“I declare, one day, Mrs. Hill will give my cook the recipe for the wonderful biscuits. Have you tried one, Your Grace? I like the way they melt on the tongue.”

After a few minutes, Darcy saw the duke turn to Mr. Bennet and raise his brows. Bennet nodded, and the duke turned to face Darcy.

“Mr. Darcy, I would like to speak to you for a few moments. Mr. Bennet has agreed we may use his library. Would you favour me with your presence?”

Darcy bowed his head in assent, and rose to his feet, wondering if Romeo would have felt the same way if he’d actually had to face Juliet’s father. He stifled a grin, and saw Bennet’s surprise at his levity.

“I will have coffee sent in, Your Grace.” Perhaps Mr. Bennet thought a whisky shared might lead to violence. Darcy allowed a broader smile, since he was behind the duke.

They sat in silence for a few moments until the tray had been deposited on the table and the servant had closed the door behind them.

Then the duke raised his eyebrows. “You look less discomposed that I had thought you might be.”

Darcy bowed his head. “I was prepared for this conversation, and expected it to be this morning, Your Grace.”

“Quite so.” The man reached for his coffee cup. “I wish to express my gratitude at your assistance to my daughter yesterday. Your presence undoubtedly saved her from a terrible future.”

Darcy swallowed. He did not want to think about what might have happened to her. “I am glad I could be of assistance.”

“Tell me about this Wickham.”

Darcy looked at the duke. Would he be angry that nothing had been done until it was almost too late?

“I have some past history with that libertine, which I will tell you about. But I was not aware that he was in this part of the country until Lady Elizabeth mentioned his name at the Worthington’s ball, and that he had appeared to attach himself to the family.

I immediately sent to Pemberley to recover the evidence I had of his previous debts which I had been buying up in case there was a need to call them in.

” He put down his cup, taking a deep breath.

“I was, however, sure that Lady Elizabeth would be remaining in town for the last large ball of the season, at the Johnson’s, so I was convinced there was time to have him apprehended before she would arrive in the country.”

“You did not inform me when you found out.”

Darcy looked up. “I had no intimation that you ever read my letters, Your Grace.” He would not lose his temper, he would not. Nor would he mention Bennet’s comment about his letters when they’d spoken at the Worthington’s ball.

The man looked tired, and much older. “I suppose that is true.” He looked up. “I am sorry for it, though.”

Darcy bowed his head. “I am, too. Sorry for anything that would have helped to protect your daughter.”

The duke nodded. “It is hard for me to say this, but I suppose it will be better if there is some thawing of the enmity between us — for her sake.”

“You are very gracious, sir.” Darcy would not, of course, say that it had all been one-sided; the man must already know it. “I think Lady Elizabeth will find it a relief.”

“That is true.” The duke raised his head. “I must know. What are your feelings towards my daughter?”

Darcy bowed his head. He would take his time before he allowed any hint of an unguarded expression to show.

“I can have no expectations, Your Grace. I know what it would cost you. But my main wish is that Lady Elizabeth be happy.” He looked up. “I think the enmity between you and the Darcy family distresses her somewhat.”

“If you have no expectations, then why do you solicit a dance at every ball?” The man seemed to be looking for fault.

“I believe she enjoys those dances, sir. With my knowing the Bennet family, she may talk of her time here and relax. The remainder of her dances seem to be more taxing.”

“Hmmmph!” The duke seemed to be thinking hard. Then he met Darcy’s eyes. “She had to be seen in society. There will have been rumours of poor health and such-like since her early birth. She needed to prove herself.”

Darcy nodded. “I understand.” He allowed a smile. “I think she has disproved any possible criticism, sir. You must be very proud of her.”

“I am indeed.”

The duke seemed to think for a few minutes. To Darcy it seemed an eternity, but he would not interrupt. Then the man looked up.

“I will be taking Elizabeth to London as soon as she is fit to do so, Darcy. And while I cannot countenance you calling on her, or appearing to court her, I will permit her to invite you to dine with us occasionally while you are in town.”

Darcy’s heart leapt. He had not anticipated so complete a reversal. “You are very gracious. I believe it will relieve Lady Elizabeth’s mind.”

“And yours?” The duke’s expression was astute, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “Do not get your hopes up. And do not break my daughter’s heart!”

Darcy bowed his head. “Whatever you say, Your Grace. As I said, I have no expectations.” He permitted himself a slight smile. “I know my place.”

The duke’s smile in response rather broke up his severe features, and raised Darcy’s hopes higher than they had been. He didn’t want to ask too much, too soon, but he had to ask.

“Before I leave here, might I be permitted to assure myself that Lady Elizabeth is well?”

The man nodded. “She wishes to be able to thank you again.”

Darcy was relieved to be going back through to the sitting room with a lighter mind than he had left it.

Bennet stood up as they entered. “It is fortuitous timing, gentlemen. We are expecting Mr. Jones downstairs shortly, and will find out what he has to say.”