Page 12

CHAPTER 12

I carried Elizabeth to Miss Lucas’s cart, where Mrs. Bennet received her daughter with open arms, fussing over her comfort and petting her hair. She would ensure Elizabeth got a proper meal and a warm bath. Miss Lucas sent word to her own father and Mr. Bennet that Elizabeth had been found and was safe at her home, attended to by her mother and sisters.

They did not want my help. Though I was eager to give it, the circumstances made their refusal a prudent decision.

Upon returning to our refuge, I moved the furniture back to their original position and folded the blankets. I swept the floor of the mud we had tracked in the night before and the ash from the fire, leaving the place much as we had found it.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me I had not eaten since the day prior. If I returned to Netherfield Park on foot, I could secure a meal and a hot bath. I believed Bingley was not overly concerned that I had not returned, as he should know I would act sensibly and seek shelter from the storm. However, once he learned the horse upon which I had left Netherfield had arrived at the Meryton stables without its rider, he would be frantic. The hour was still early, fueling my belief that I might intercept the horse and rider before they set out for Netherfield. I could purchase a meat pie at the bakery and thus avoid having to explain my less-than-pristine appearance to Bingley’s sisters.

I smoothed my hand over my shirt. Although it was in an unrecoverable state, once I tied my cravat and donned my great coat, most of the wrinkles would be hidden. The stubble on my jaw needed a shave, but I was not so disheveled that I could not appear in the village. Certainly no one would notice the state of my jaw when the storm that had ravaged through the area would be of more pressing interest, anyway.

As I thought about it, I realized that there was bound to be some damage needing repair, and I was not incapable. The north of England was no stranger to savage weather. With so many families dependent on Pemberley’s care, it often befell upon me to repair their homes along with every other able-bodied individual with the proper skills.

Now committed to action, I directed my steps to Meryton, eager to begin my campaign to prove to Elizabeth’s neighbors that they were not beneath my notice and attention. I would assist those who had no family to help them or whose age prevented them from helping themselves.

Confident of my current course, I started to consider what I might do to gain Elizabeth’s favor, earn her respect, and win her heart. She would be unable to leave Longbourn for at least two weeks, perhaps longer. As someone accustomed to activity and the soothing beauty of nature, no doubt she would have to settle for books and conversation to occupy her time. She would appreciate a break in a routine bound to become tedious even for the most imaginative soul.

Before an idea had fully formed, I reached the stables. The horse that had abandoned me happily munched on straw, his coat brushed and shining, his hooves picked clean and wiped free of mud. He did not look up when I entered much less show any remorse for abandoning me. I could have kissed the ungrateful beast for the favor he had unwittingly done me.

“Mr. Darcy! I just finished polishing your saddle and was about to return this fellow to Netherfield.” Mr. Craig eyed me cautiously. No doubt he was amused by his knowledge I had somehow lost my horse.

“How is he?” I asked.

“I might ask the same of you, sir. We were worried when he returned without his rider during that storm. I would already have gone to Netherfield, but a tree branch fell on Widow Scott’s roof. It took several of us some time to clear the debris.”

“Was she harmed?”

“No, she is well enough, even if her house is not.”

I learned the villagers would be convening at The Golden Lion shortly to exchange progress and ensure that everyone who required assistance had a means to make their needs known. I listened to him intently and talked more than I normally would, even explaining enough of what had happened to separate me from the horse to satisfy Mr. Craig’s curiosity.

Once we had shared a good laugh at my expense, I arranged to take the horse back to Netherfield once I had made myself useful in the village.

Next I went to the bakery, where I exchanged a few polite words with the baker and a coin for two meat pies to break my fast. He and his customers were busy discussing how the hail, howling wind, and flooding waters had affected them and so did not question my appearance.

After some nourishment, I felt more like myself and knew what I needed to do before I called at Longbourn on the morrow. After penning a message to my man of business, I sent it by messenger with the expectation of a prompt reply. My instructions were clear and concise, and I was certain my man would not fail me.

After that, I stopped at The Golden Lion. As Mr. Craig had said, the local men and several regimental soldiers had gathered there, the former focused on planning what needed to be done and the latter on appearing to be in charge. Consequently, nothing at all was being accomplished. As I expected, Wickham was not present.

When I had my fill of discussion, I roused several men to join me and set to work. We removed tree limbs, patched roofs, and returned items that had blown into neighbors’ properties. Many garden posts needed to be righted, and I was content to lend a hand.

It was dirty work but gave me a glow of accomplishment with the added benefit of justifying my rumpled dress and providing an explanation for my whereabouts since yesterday. Bingley would never question me, and his sisters would find no scandal to discuss so long as Mrs. Bennet and Miss Lucas kept silent.

I worked long and hard until the Widow Scott insisted I stop and eat a hearty meal of beef stew she had prepared for our group. The baker, grateful we had spared him from having to repair his mother’s roof, sent more bread than a regiment could eat.

After working a few hours side by side with the carpenters, thatchers, and the blacksmith, they sent me off with friendly expressions of gratitude. The bolder ones among them treated me like one of their own, shoving my shoulder, clapping me on the back vigorously, and generally accepting me into their circle.

I fetched Bingley’s horse from the stables, confident that I had successfully shifted popular opinion in my favor.

During my ride to Netherfield Park, I crossed paths with Sir William, who was on his way to the village with a cart full of supplies for his neighbors and friends. It pleased me to report what I knew and assure him that his assistance would be most welcome. He departed with a contented smile, and I dreamed of soaking my sore limbs in a hot bath at Netherfield.

I found that Bingley, too, had been occupied helping his tenants to repair their residences, dig drainage ditches, and move fallen branches. That we had been similarly occupied pleased him as well as it did me. He did not rely as strongly on my guidance in estate affairs as I had feared.

I ought to have known. He was the son of a business owner who had raised him to have all the advantages of a gentleman but without the ignorance. His father had taught him to manage the family’s business—not so that he would continue with it, but to share what he knew best with his heir. I could see that this instruction was serving Bingley well and wished more fathers did the same.

Bingley inquired about the Meryton horse, and I told him enough of the animal’s responses to my commands to convince him to purchase the gelding.

Miss Bingley was the first person I saw when I entered the drawing room before dinner. Bingley and Hurst played a game of checkers while Mrs. Hurst yawned by the fire.

“Mr. Darcy, to what do we owe the honor of your presence?” Miss Bingley asked coyly, clearly thinking her question clever.

It irritated me, so I did not reply. Who was Caroline Bingley to Elizabeth Bennet?

Bingley skipped over Hurst’s token, scooping up his winning piece triumphantly. “See, Caro? I told you Darcy would stay in the village.”

Mrs. Hurst shivered. “Such a dreadful storm! It kept me up all night.”

Miss Bingley fluttered her eyelashes. “None of us could sleep for concern over Mr. Darcy’s welfare.”

Bingley rolled his eyes. “You thought he had quit to London! Darcy would not leave us without so much as a farewell to his friends, and certainly not when he knew Colonel Fitzwilliam might join us any day now.”

She huffed and sighed. “Well, it is dull enough here. I would not have blamed him if he had withdrawn from this dreary shire. If you insist on settling here, I shall die of ennui.” Miss Bingley seemed to believe boredom was fashionable.

I had never seen Elizabeth bored. She made a game of everything.

The activities of the day to repair damage from the storm dominated the conversation at dinner. Miss Bingley made futile endeavors to make her pursuits sound as important as those of her brothers. As she had done nothing to assist her neighbors or her servants’ families, her attempts to impress fell short. Hurst was currently exerting his energy to ingest the dishes placed before him, his exertions with his brother-in-law having sharpened his already ample appetite. His wife echoed her sister’s earlier comments by repeatedly remarking upon the lack of entertainments to be had in the country and asserting that, were she in town, she would not be afflicted with such boredom. Her apparent intention was to draw my attention to her sister, but every word drew an unfavorable comparison to Elizabeth.

Too alert with anticipation for the arrival of my messenger the following morning, I endured a restless night. I awoke before daylight to continue scanning the horizon for the rider to appear bearing the gift I had carefully arranged. I first paced in my bedchamber and then took my restlessness down to the parlor, where I had a better view of the drive that led to Netherfield’s entrance. As the morning progressed and the other residents of the household began to stir, I reluctantly went to the morning parlor to break my fast, my gaze constantly seeking the doorway, expecting the butler to appear there and announce the messenger’s arrival.

I glanced at the clock. It was getting late. Had the messenger’s horse gone lame? Had some accident befallen him? I tried to explain the delay to prevent myself from succumbing to my increasing anxiety. It was too early yet to make calls, anyway.

The butler appeared, carrying a salver with the recently arrived post. There was nothing on the tray for me. Nor had a messenger arrived, he assured me. I nodded at this news as though it meant no difference when every fiber of my body screamed in impatience.

Bingley was disinclined to read the newspaper just then, so I dismissed myself from the table and took it to read in the parlor. There I sat, choosing a chair that faced both the road and the door. If the messenger came by the usual path, I was certain to see him. I opened the paper and attempted to read, but the pages could not hold my attention.

I rose from my chair and began pacing, my need to do something overwhelming my senses. This was ridiculous! Striding to the door to call for my horse and change into my riding coat so I might meet the messenger along the roadway, I startled to an abrupt halt when the butler rounded the corner and stepped into my path.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam has arrived from town, sir. Mr. Bingley will join you shortly, and Miss Bingley has sent for tea.”

My cousin appeared over the houseman’s shoulder, his grin wide. “Darcy! How good it is to see you!”

It was easy for me to return Richard’s smile, but I struggled to prevent my impatience from lessening my happiness at seeing him. Where was the infernal messenger? The butler caught my look and replied with a subtle shake of his head before retreating down the hall.

Drat!

Masking my disappointment, I turned to Richard, pulled him to me, and slapped him on the back in a brotherly embrace. “It is good of you to come, Rich. Bingley has talked of little else but his hope that you might accept his invitation.”

Richard stepped back, his eyebrows raised. “I had to see with my own eyes if there truly is an angel living in the Hertfordshire countryside.” He jabbed me in the ribs with his elbow. “Perhaps this angel has an equally charming sister?”

Elizabeth popped into my mind, and my previous thoughts returned. Richard would like her, and no doubt she would enjoy his conversation. Jealousy seeped into me. What if she preferred Richard over me?

Bingley and the rest of his household joined us, providing the distraction I needed to restore order to my distraught mind. If Elizabeth did prefer Richard, I would wish her to be with the man who made her happier. In the meantime, I would put forth my best effort to be that man, to be her choice.

The tea service arrived, Miss Bingley poured, and I returned to my chair with the view of the door and the road. With my attention thus divided, I did not pay as much heed to the surrounding discussion as I should have. It was a foolish mistake. The conversation had paused, and everyone was looking at me expectantly. Although Bingley would excuse my inattention, Richard would be more likely to make a game out of extracting the reason for my distraction.

He grinned slyly. “Woolgathering, are we, Darcy?”

Drat! Heart pounding furiously, I took in a deep, slow breath and held my gaze steady. Richard had not been here for more than a quarter of an hour, and I had already given him proof to suspect I was not entirely myself. Not that I was ashamed of my growing feelings for Elizabeth… only that I would prefer not to expose myself to the one person who would tease me most mercilessly about them.

Richard cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing in on me. “I might have arrived earlier, but I stopped at The Golden Lion to quench my thirst.”

I held my breath, afraid to be hopeful. I had done what I could to make amends for my aloofness, but people often stubbornly adhered to their first impression. Would the villagers speak kindly of me to a stranger?

One of Richard’s eyebrows arched upward the same way my aunt’s did when she found me lacking. “You certainly know how to make an impression, Darcy.” He turned away and regaled Bingley with all the wonderful things the locals had said about him with no mention of me. I was in agony.

Trying not to show that the omission had sorely disappointed me, I resumed watching the path leading to the house while Richard related the latest London gossip. He reveled in news, and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley were a most appreciative audience. His voice grated on my nerves.

I could have caught up with the messenger by now, my gifts for Elizabeth safe in my possession, the first part of my plan in motion.

Just when I felt ready to burst with impatience, Richard stood. “If I might retire to my room for a spell, your man of business charged me with a delivery.”

My head snapped to face Richard. Him?! He was the messenger?

Why, in heaven’s name, had he not said so from the beginning? I clamped my teeth together and laced my fingers, restraining my irritation all the way up the stairs and down the guest wing to my bedchamber.

No crate was visible on my first sweep of the room. I walked around, expecting to find a crate on the other side of the bed. Not there, either. Frustration coiled in my belly.

Richard had leaned casually, maddeningly, against the wall, and now extended a note in his hand to me.

I snatched it, tearing the seal in my haste to read my man’s explanation: he had secured the last candies to be found in town, but the flowers had to be picked fresh and delivered early the following morning on a cart he had hired for that purpose.

“When do I get to meet her?” Richard asked, pulling a box out of his pack. I watched him unravel it from the clothing in which he had wrapped it for protection.

My appreciation for the care he had taken overcame my previous vexation. I picked up the box and plucked at the twine and brown paper left around it. “I aim to call today.”

“Is she related to Bingley’s angel?”

“Her sister.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Richard clapped his hands together, his expression teasing. “I do not suppose they have another sister to spare for me?”

“It is a family of five sisters.”

His jaw dropped, as I had known it would. Richard would not marry until the war was over. Much to the chagrin of his mother, who would rather see him happily settled and bouncing babies on his knees, he had decided to marry only when he could give his full devotion to his bride. It was a wise decision, true to Richard’s loyal character. He would make an exceptional husband to his future wife.

“If you knew how tempted I was to snatch one of the candies from the box, you would appreciate my exertions in your behalf much more,” Richard pointed out.

“You would not dare.”

“If they were not so rare, I absolutely would have dared.” Richard was at my side. “Come on. Open it. Let me at least see them.”

I rolled my eyes at Richard, but truth be told, I was as excited as a young boy with a wrapped present placed before him, all thrill and anticipation.

I only sampled one Turkish Delight in my life. They were always snatched up by those with deep pockets, sweet tooths, and powerful connections, preventing me from sampling more of the sweetmeats. After tasting that one morsel, I understood their popularity. The creations were as delicious to the palate as they were beautiful to the eye.

With painstaking caution, I slipped the ribbon off the box—careful not to alter the perfectly tied bow—and peeked inside at the colorful soft candies sprinkled with sugar dust and separated by glossy paper. These bite-sized works of art had crossed the ocean to get to the shop where a list of clients waited for the next shipment to reach British shores from the Ottoman Empire, and I had secured the last six. My chest swelled with pride.

Richard let out a low whistle. “What is her name?”

“Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Will she know how rare these candies are? How expensive?”

“Not likely. It does not signify.”

Richard scoffed. “Of course it signifies! Women like to know how much trouble we go through on their behalf. From the sounds of things in the village, you could use the help that this knowledge would give you.”

I sighed. “What did you hear?”

“That you are as fine of a gentleman as has ever lived, hardworking, honorable, generous…” He waved his hand, indicating that the townsmen had been generous in their praise. I was grateful, though I also knew I would have to redouble my efforts or risk losing all the progress I had made in recovering my reputation as a gentleman. One little slight, and I would be right back where I had started… or worse.

Richard continued, “I also heard how you had insulted a gentleman’s daughter, a favorite among the villagers…” He let his sentence trail off, leaving me to confess what I had done.

“I behaved abominably at their public assembly.”

“Ah, you never are your best at large gatherings. And you are worse when surrounded by strangers. Let me guess… this gentleman’s daughter you insulted is none other than Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

I replied with a grimace.

He chuckled. “If Bingley is courting her eldest sister, he will be disappointed he did not think of securing such a thoughtful gift.”

“Bingley does not have the unfavorable opinion of a strong-minded woman to overcome.”

Richard guffawed and clapped me on the back. “You are up to the challenge, I see! I am eager to meet this formidable female who has tied you in knots.”

I carefully replaced the lid on the box and pulled the bow back into place. “If Sultan Abdul Hamid found success promoting peace in his household with this confection, I can hold hope they might soften Elizabeth’s heart toward me. At least, I can give her a novel experience.”

I could hardly wait to see her expression—she had such lively eyes—when she took her first bite. I could picture the wonder in her eyes as she sampled her first taste, her smile when she declared the candy the most delightful treat ever to grace her tongue.

The box was tucked into my pocket just so, and I called for my horse to be readied. My two companions clamored their intention of joining me. I did not wish for their company, but nothing would discourage me from presenting my first token to Elizabeth.

She had already seen me at my worst, and I was now resolved to show her my best. Today and for all eternity.