Page 21 of Rumours & Recklessness (Sweet Escapes Collection #1)

Chapter 19

E lizabeth and Mr Darcy excused themselves downstairs and made for the library, which doubled as a study for Mr Bennet. Elizabeth led the way, leaving Darcy free to admire her floating, graceful form as she descended before him.

At the bottom of the stairs, they were greeted by an inarticulate plinking on the pianoforte. The racket was dreadfully spine-shivering. Darcy did his best to conceal a shudder when a particularly sour note rang out. Elizabeth turned to him in embarrassment. “Lydia is taking lessons with Aunt this morning,” she explained uncomfortably.

He schooled his expression and gave a curt nod, happy to have gained the solitude of the library. Even there, they could not fully escape the distracting clamour, as they could not in all propriety shut the door. At least the great plenitude of Mr Bennet’s bookshelves insulated the room somewhat and dulled the noise from outside. Elizabeth began to show him to the desk and some papers she had drawn out for their conference.

“Oh! My dearest Lydia, you are doing splendidly!” Mrs Bennet screeched from the drawing-room across the hall. Elizabeth cringed, peeking at Darcy. “Oh, my sweetest sister, is she not talented? I always said, Dearest Lydia, you could do just marvellously at anything you tried!” Mrs Gardiner’s demure reply was barely audible. Elizabeth’s lips thinned, and she reached for the sheaf of ledger paper on her father’s desk.

They had no success here at conversation. Elizabeth peeped at him in humiliated torment. Darcy twisted his mouth into a firm line as he studied the documents she showed him, doing his best to appear unconcerned with the din from the drawing-room. Elizabeth could not help a sympathetic smile. His efforts at nonchalance were valiant, but the tension in his shoulders was too obvious—at least, it was to her.

Elizabeth had called for a refreshment tray to be brought in so that they might have the excuse of avoiding the midday meal when it was served. Some generous spirit within her wished to avoid subjecting Darcy to her entire family for a formal luncheon. Her gesture was not unappreciated. The relief in his face was palpable, though he strove mightily to conceal it. Both affected an air of indifference as they worked right through the late morning.

Darcy scanned the pages quickly, digesting another man’s private financial matters as though they were his own concerns. Once or twice, he glanced up to Elizabeth’s face. He read her embarrassment at laying her family’s affairs open before him and met her eyes with complete gentleness. He needed her to trust him! Surely if he could gain her confidence here, where the evidence of their differences was so pronounced, he might have success in other areas as well.

At length, he cleared his throat and spoke. “It would appear that Mr Brown has been a steady and reliable tenant for many years up until this last one.” A sour note clanged again on the piano, causing both to flinch and Darcy to lose his train of thought. How gratefully he had left behind him those early days of Georgiana’s tutelage!

Elizabeth nodded emphatically, drawing his attention back to the subject at hand. “He is a good man, Mr Darcy,” she replied with iron in her voice, as if daring him to contradict her. “He is honourable and very wise. Papa thinks highly of him.”

“Yes, I understand,” he assured her. “However, you are unfortunately correct that his rent is seriously in arrears. It is doubtful he should ever in his lifetime be able to repay what is owed.” He paused, watching her carefully. “It is, of course, your father’s prerogative to attempt to collect on the debt or to make other arrangements. So far, I gather that Mr Bennet has chosen to allow time for Mr Brown’s injuries to heal in hopes that he will be able to retain the farm next year. Is that correct?”

Elizabeth nodded quietly. She fingered another ledger, biting her lip. “I fear your assessment is more generous to my father’s planning than is warranted. In truth, I believe he was merely trying to delay the inevitable. None of us wishes to see any harm befall the family,” she finished lowly.

“Hmm...” he stroked his lip as he surveyed another ledger sheet. His eyes narrowed and traced down the page again and again. Elizabeth did not fail to notice his sudden interest and raised a curious brow.

He returned his gaze to hers. “You do realize, Miss Bennet, that the matter cannot simply be allowed to slide. The lack of repayment may be overlooked by your father, but in the long run, it is a substantial blow to the prosperity of Longbourn... one which, as heir, Mr Collins would be within his rights to prosecute... even years from now,” he added quickly.

Elizabeth stared in shock. “I had not considered that!”

“May I?” he queried, gesturing toward another sheaf of papers. Mutely she passed them over and watched in fascination as he flipped back and forth through the pages. He seemed to be looking for something in particular, but as yet, he was not telling her what it was.

As he was reading, there sounded a small tapping on the opened door of the study. The eyes of both turned to the sound. Kitty and Jane stood sheepishly in the doorway, sewing baskets in hand. “Lizzy, I am so sorry to interrupt, but might we join you in the study?” Jane was pleading. The pianoforte hammered once more for emphasis.

Sliding her gaze to Darcy, who looked quickly back to the ledgers, Elizabeth nodded. “At least now we can close the door!” she muttered under her breath. The gentleman beside her bit back a chortle, his eyes flashing to hers in sympathy. As Kitty and Jane settled into a window seat, Elizabeth remained awkwardly near the desk. Darcy withdrew into silence once more, seemingly uncomfortable with their audience.

Elizabeth had begun to regret granting her sisters entry when he spoke abruptly. “Miss Elizabeth, would it be possible to meet this Mr Brown? I have a particular question which I should like to have answered.”

She blinked in surprise. “I suppose it is. I expect he is at home.” Privately she wondered what he could have in mind, but she sensed he would not say more until he had the information he sought.

With a bow to her sisters, Darcy moved to the door and held it for her, his warm gaze lingering on her face as she followed him through. She could sense without even looking the giddy nudges and giggles shared by her sisters as they quit the room.

“M iss Darcy is not at home? Nonsense! I shall set that girl right. She cannot refuse to see me! I am almost the nearest relation she has, and I am entitled to call upon her whenever I see fit!” Lady Catherine swept by the stoic butler, who managed to position himself artfully enough that he appeared forbidding without actually requiring the lady to push him out of the way.

“Yes, my lady,” Drake commented neutrally. What she believed her rights and entitlements to be was not his business. He had already received particular instructions regarding this relative of his master’s, and it suited his purposes that she should enter the house of her own accord.

Lady Catherine descended upon a nearby footman, bloodshot eyes blazing and a fleck of spittle forming at the corners of her wrinkled mouth. “Miss de Bourgh requires assistance! What worthless staff you have here! I shall speak to my nephew directly.” The young man could not have been flung out the front door more violently if she had dealt him a physical blow. The sheer force of her ire was more than sufficient. He scrambled to the carriage outside to do the noble woman’s bidding.

Lady Catherine strode confidently to the music room. No matter that the house was virtually silent. Georgiana ought rightly to have been practising at this time of the day and was surely only waiting to receive her guest so she could begin a new piece after performing the requisite protocols. The room, however, was quite empty save for a very surprised housemaid with a dusting rag.

The august personage stood in mute astonishment for a moment. With some sense of imperious denial, her gaze swept the shadows behind the bookcases and even peered round the corners of the sofas before she had satisfied herself that her niece was truly not present. She whirled to face the butler when he appeared discretely behind her. “This is not to be borne! Send up for my niece immediately!”

Drake inclined his head. “As your ladyship must remember, Miss Darcy is away at present.”

“Lies! She cannot be away. My nephew wrote to me specifically not a fortnight ago and said my niece was to remain here through the holidays! Wait until my nephew hears of your disgraceful conduct!”

“As your ladyship pleases. Your ladyship will naturally desire to wait in comfort while Miss Georgiana is sent for. The rose drawing-room at present enjoys the benefit of a robust blaze, and Miss de Bourgh, I believe, is fond of that room. Would your ladyship care for some refreshment?”

Lady Catherine settled somewhat. At last, they were getting somewhere! “That will suffice, and mind I am to be brought a cold water first. My doctor believes it good for the constitution, you know, and you must prevail upon your master to adopt my ways once he returns. Do not forget, Drake! My water is to be served with a slice of lemon—a fresh one this time—and my tea with a sprig of mint off to the side. Peach, rather than strawberry preserves, if you please; my doctor says it is better for the digestion. And no scones! Your cook nearly broke my tooth last time.”

Within a few moments, the ladies had settled into the designated sitting room. Anne, appearing weakened by her journey, swayed very slightly against her companion. Lady Catherine puckered her worn lips in disdain. If Anne would only exhibit a little willpower and pluck up, she would be mistress of this house any day! It could not come soon enough, either. What disreputable ways the staff had got into! It was not this way in the days of her brother-in-law.

An agreeable warmth stole across her features. Oh, no, it was not like this at all in the days of dear old George. Back in those days, the staff grovelled properly at her feet. She had been sure he was on the brink of a proposal when he betrayed her for her younger sister. He had tried to make it up to her later, but it had been too little, too late for her forgiveness. Her lips coiled in resolve. She would see her daughter a Darcy, if not herself!

A freckled young maid appeared presently, wheeling a tea cart. “At last!” the great lady cried. “How long does it take to boil a pot of water? Your cook ought to be stoking her fires constantly! At Rosings, I never suffer the kitchen fire to be diminished in the slightest, even in the heat of the season,” she huffed scornfully.

“As your ladyship pleases,” the girl bobbed a cheeky curtsey.

“Where is my niece? She ought to be down by now! Go at once and summon her to take refreshment with us. Such a shameful lack of propriety and respect!”

“As your ladyship pleases,” the girl repeated, with a spunk entirely too plucky for decorum. She curtseyed again, and the noble guest quite positively detected a mutinous gleam in the maid’s eye.

“Go at once! I shall speak to the housekeeper if my niece is not brought to me instantly!”

“As your ladyship pleases,” the girl parroted as she backed out of the room.

“Such insolence!” she declared. “I never in all my days….” her eyes fell to the tea tray. She lifted her glass of water suspiciously. It was quite warm, and a sprig of mint floated listlessly near the surface. She clenched her teeth. What utter incompetence! Inspecting further, she discovered a small dish of wilted lemon wedges placed between the cream and sugar. Next to them, a towering stack of scones dolloped generously with strawberry preserves adorned the centre of the cart.

E lizabeth had accepted Darcy’s arm in escort, a carefully composed expression lingering on her face as she did so. She was not yet ready to display any flicker of her improving regard for him, although she expected it was obvious by her lack of verbal attack this past hour and a half. She peeked at him discreetly beneath the hood of her warm cloak, watching with interest how the tension left his features as they gained distance between themselves and the house.

For his part, Darcy was busy scolding himself into gentlemanly conduct. It did not matter that countless layers of fabric and leather lay between them; Elizabeth’s taper fingers rested gently in the crook of his elbow, her beautiful curly head bobbing so fittingly by his side. Her smaller frame synchronized with his as they moved, and they stepped down the path in harmony.

He fought a little twinge of satisfaction from displaying itself in his manner. Elizabeth Bennet did not mince her steps, tiptoeing daintily like a lady of fashion. Rather, she strode purposefully, with decision, yet still carried herself with a modest, feminine grace which he found irresistible.

Though he kept his face resolutely up and forward, his eyes continually drifted to the apparition at his side. He strove valiantly to introduce some interesting topic of conversation to ease their short journey but continually drew a blank. It was Elizabeth, quite characteristically, who spoke first.

“Will you tell me now, sir, what it was which so suddenly caught your interest in my father’s documents?” She fixed him with that temptingly arch expression of hers, her beautiful face a warm radiance backdropped by the chill grey of their surroundings.

He cleared his throat gently, straightening his shoulders uncomfortably. “I did say that it would be your father’s prerogative to collect on the debt….”

“You did,” she answered carefully. “Or, in his indisposition, the duty falls to me. Yet, as I have asked your advice, it might be said that you have a place in the matter as well.”

“That is not quite what I meant,” he returned, warmed and surprised that she would be defending his involvement in her family’s affairs. “The debt can be collected… or other arrangements can be made to satisfy it.” He let that statement linger, curiously watching the emotions playing across her lovely features.

Her able mind did not disappoint. Inspiration sparkled in those dark eyes, and she rose them to meet his gaze. “What do you have in mind?” she asked hopefully.

“That is why I wished to meet with him. As yet, I do not have a suitable suggestion, but I hope to be able to make a sound recommendation to you after our conversation. I wish to assess the man’s abilities. You speak so highly of him; it stands to reason that he must have other areas of expertise by which he might be able to both recompense the estate and provide for his family in the future.”

Elizabeth’s chocolate eyes crinkled in approval, an eloquent smile kindling. He returned it with goodwill. She was pleased with his ideas! He allowed himself just for a moment the very agreeable fantasy of taking Elizabeth Bennet as his confidante and partner, the one to whom he himself turned for advice and encouragement. Her lively intellect and warm loyalty could carry him through any difficulty. What a pleasure to closet himself for hours in his study with Elizabeth as his company, rather than his silent old hound!

Naturally, of course, after working through whatever quandaries they might face together, he would thank her—most ardently —for her devoted succour. What freedoms could then be his, as her husband? Elizabeth would be no mousy prig, waiting silently and diffidently for him to exert his marital rights and leave her be. Not she! No, if there were any difficulties with Elizabeth Bennet, it might be said that she was rather a woman of too much feeling! Though at present, her fiery and independent nature gave him great cause for anxiety, he had good reason to hope it would not always be so.

Elizabeth slyly peeped from beneath her hood after a few moments of awkward silence from Darcy. “May I ask, sir, what it is which amuses you so?”

Darcy’s face flushed guiltily, his mouth opening to form some apology that would not come. “Amuses me, Miss Bennet?” he tried to sound innocent, but his traitorous voice cracked as his throat constricted. “I cannot know what you mean.”

Elizabeth grinned challengingly, small pearly teeth peeking between those rosy lips. His heart, already agitated by his incongruous musings, performed a somersault and left him breathless. “Come, sir, I have not known you to bear such an agreeable expression without good cause! If it is your intention to improve my understanding of you, I would ask to be enlightened, if I may be so bold.”

“I do not think that would be wise, Miss Bennet,” he murmured huskily, a little twitter about the corner of his mouth.

“Very well, then, sir!” She lifted her chin airily and pretended to dismiss him. “I might add, however, that it is not at all gentlemanly to keep a secret from a lady.”

“It would be far less ‘gentlemanly’ to reveal my thoughts to that same lady, Miss Bennet.” He bent his head low, levelling an expressive and intimate smile.

Her eyes widened in convicted surprise as his meaning dawned. “Oh,” she whispered involuntarily. She looked hastily away and lapsed into silence, her breath quickening.

They walked on with no words for some moments, remorse beginning to etch itself into Darcy’s features. “Miss Bennet, I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable,” he spoke lowly. “It was not my wish.”

Her eyes flashed quickly to his. “I….”

“Well, well, Mr Darcy! And Miss Elizabeth, how do you do today!” a cheery voice interjected.

The attention of both turned to Sir William Lucas, who approached round a bend in the path. He was mounted on his old road horse, a very fine, if aged, greatcoat splayed from his shoulders down over his saddle. Elizabeth tensed. Of all the people to see her out walking alone with Mr Darcy! It could only be worse if it had been this man’s wife they encountered!

Darcy bowed his head very properly to the titled gentleman. “Good Day, Sir William, how do you do?” he replied civilly.

“Oh, I am splendid, my dear sir, splendid! I see you and the lovely Miss Elizabeth are taking the air. Capital, capital! May I congratulate you, sir, on carrying off the fairest gem of the county? What felicitations must be pouring in, eh my good man?”

Darcy opened his mouth to reply, but the good Sir William had not yet exhausted his superfluity.

“I was just saying to my dear wife what a fine thing your arrival has been for the neighbourhood, Mr Darcy. Why, only consider all of these happy young couples; for where there is one engagement, there are always more soon to follow, eh Mr Darcy? What a handsome pair your friend Bingley and the lovely Miss Jane Bennet make, Mr Darcy. Such a fine thing, and we are all expecting to hear word at any time of such a desirable event in the offing!” The gentleman’s bushy eyebrows waggled significantly.

“You are well acquainted, I must expect Mr Darcy, with our dear Charlotte’s happy news. Such a sensible and bright young man, my future son-in-law! He paints a lovely picture of the fair Rosings Park. Perhaps you can tell me, my dear sir, is the seat of the esteemed Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” he uttered the name with reverent care, “as magnificent as he claims?”

Darcy’s lips thinned. “Indeed, sir, it is very fine.”

“Capital!” the jubilant father enthused. “What a fortuitous connection. A lucky girl, my Charlotte!”

Darcy’s eyes flitted over Elizabeth’s face, taking in her tight expression. “If you will forgive me, Sir William, I would have declared all the luck to be on Mr Collins’ side. He is a fortunate man to have secured the hand of Miss Lucas.” He felt rather than observed Elizabeth’s swift and gratified glance in his direction. Her fingers tightened ever so imperceptibly on his arm. Rewarded again! His inner parts tingled with exhilaration.

“Oh, my dear sir, you flatter me! Such kind words, such condescension! Capital, I say. Oh, but Miss Elizabeth, do forgive my lack of breeding. How does our dear Mr Bennet this morning? I trust there is some improvement?”

“Indeed, sir,” the young lady answered, a mortified flush staining her cheeks still from Sir William’s callous remarks about Jane and Charlotte. Darcy, however, was soon privy to a wilful shift in her expression. She blinked twice, and that provocative sparkle returned to her eyes. Her lips curved deliciously. He held his breath, anxious to partake of the wit of his Elizabeth while her sword was pointed somewhere other than at himself.

“I believe, sir, that our dear Mr Collins will be most fittingly pleased to have many years yet to enjoy the beauty of Rosings and the very great patronage of the Lady Catherine de Bourgh. What a fortuitous thing it is!” She met Sir Lucas’ eye with a sweet challenge, the corner of her mouth lifting ever so slightly.

“Well… yes, capital, I say.” Sir Lucas’ face clouded slightly. He possessed not the ability to mock himself, which often precluded the skill to rightly interpret some of his neighbour’s pleasantries. The lady inclined her head and offered him a gracious smile, and the gentleman at her side bowed in proper respect, so quite surely there was nothing amiss. He touched his hat. “Well, then. A very good day to you, Miss Elizabeth, and to you, Mr Darcy.” Still blinking and mystified, he gave his mount an uncoordinated nudge and moved off.

Darcy’s gaze shifted to the impertinent young lady at his side. “You speak of my unprepossessing ways! I might say, Miss Elizabeth, that it is not terribly gracious to make sport of those who cannot defend themselves from your witticisms.” He arched a brow, a hint of a smile teasing his mouth.

“Ah, but Mr Darcy, Sir William still believes me to be eminently genteel and modest, whereas you, who know better, I think are the more greatly entertained by my lack of proper deference! So, you see, no harm has been done.”

“Perhaps I am at least glad to know I am not the only one obliged to surrender my sword in a match of wits.”

Elizabeth laughed, those speaking eyes flashing beguilingly. “Very good, Mr Darcy! I shall return it to you, as is only sporting. You are a quick study, I daresay.”

He grinned, his heart swelling in his chest. “Miss Bennet, do you know how we train our hunting dogs?”

Her brow furrowed, eyes still twinkling as she tilted her head curiously. “I beg your pardon? I have no knowledge of dog training.”

“More is the pity, for you would prove a prodigiously talented handler. You see, Miss Bennet, a dog is ever eager to please. An unschooled pup blunders about, mayhem and destruction following in its wake. As it is offered instruction, it guesses what might be the desired response of its handler. Most of its guesses are far from the mark in the beginning, but the instant it makes a right move, the handler rewards it lavishly. Each correct response is praised, and gradually a new skill is learned. What was once an awkward and ignorant creature, capable only of causing confusion, becomes a loyal and clever partner, ever learning and desiring to be near its master.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slyly, an impish curve to her mouth. “The great Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, comparing himself to a gangling hound puppy? How very amusing!”

“It is a fortunate animal indeed which finds itself in the care of a highly skilled and, dare I say, amiable trainer,” he winked daringly at her, enjoying the rosy warmth flooding her cheeks.

“And this trainer; does he come to care for his animals, or does he merely take satisfaction in the creation of a useful partner?”

“Both, it is to be hoped, for the most effective partnerships are ruled by a mutual attachment. Dogs can be very loyal and affectionate, you know.” He hesitantly reached for her gloved hand, and she surprised him by meeting him halfway, a sudden shyness fluttering her lashes low.

He clasped her hand breathlessly for a moment, quite at a loss for words when she submitted so gently to his desire to touch her. “Shall I interpret that,” he rasped hoarsely, “as your way of rewarding your pupil?”

She slowly tipped her gaze up to his, a genuine rather than a provoking smile gradually lighting her features. “It would be unwise,” she answered softly, “to neglect to praise such a promising protégé.”