Page 3 of Rumours & Recklessness (Sweet Escapes Collection #1)
Darcy emerged from his rooms, refreshed after a hot bath and a shave. Wilson, his valet, was busily packing the remainder of his personal effects for a morning departure. He and Bingley had settled between them the previous evening to leave shortly after the morning meal. As he struck up his long stride down the corridor, an unwelcome voice arrested his progress.
“Mr Darcy!” Miss Bingley oiled her way toward him. Clearly, she had been lying in wait for his arrival, contriving for him to escort her to breakfast. With an inaudible sigh, he bowed and offered his arm. A debilitating waft of her powerful musk perfume assaulted him, but he was long practised at ignoring it.
“I imagine you are well pleased to be leaving this country!” Miss Bingley sidled comfortably up to him, incidentally brushing his arm with more bits of her anatomy than was strictly necessary. “Such insipid company. Why, the conduct last evening! Louisa and I were agreeing that we could not fathom such behaviour.” She batted her eyelashes at him, to no avail, since he refused to look in her direction. Neither would he be baited into a reply. She tried harder.
“I noticed that Miss Eliza’s fine eyes were rather bright last night during her family’s performance. Her mother was so well-spoken! Such accomplished dancers they all are, and so popular with all the officers. And the middle sister with such ex quisite talent on the pianoforte. You really must introduce them all to Miss Georgiana. How de light ed she would be to meet such distinguished company!”
Darcy only clenched his jaw, a subtle mannerism that the oblivious Caroline was unlikely to observe. As they stepped into the breakfast room together, he noted Bingley’s downcast attitude. Reluctant to leave Miss Jane Bennet , Darcy mused. This is one time when I agree with Miss Bingley. Better to get him far away from temptation, as well as myself!
Caroline released his arm and blithely helped herself—or rather, forced the maid to help her—to the sideboard, which was generously laden with imported fruits, hot meats and fresh pastries. Mr Hurst was busily tucking into his plate while his wife surveyed her fingertips and toyed with her coffee. Bingley stirred his tea dejectedly, his uneaten food scattered on his plate.
Caroline pouted and picked at the young maid she had required to fill her plate. First, it was too full, making her look slovenly and ill-bred. Another attempt revealed it to be too lightly furnished, and Caroline knew for a fact that Mr Darcy disdained the unhealthful habit of fine ladies who ate too little. After a third try, she scolded the poor girl for forgetting any sort of meats to round out her selection. At last, she was satisfied. Caroline dismissed the relieved girl, then proceeded to ignore the offering set before her.
Darcy cannily waited until Caroline had settled herself in a seat before taking one himself—as far from hers as possible. Her mouth crinkled in disappointment, but she said nothing. The gathering around the table was shrouded in unnatural quiet after the gaiety of the previous evening. At length, Caroline and her sister began trading their mirthful observations from the ball.
Darcy tried not to listen, as most of their spiteful jabs involved the Bennets. It was impossible to ignore, however. The one woman to ever catch his interest had the most absurd family! Their behaviour in public was utterly shameful. Then again… he narrowed his eyes. At least the Bennets were genuine. He knew almost positively they were not sitting around their breakfast table abusing their staff or belittling their hosts of the previous evening. When did Bingley’s sisters become so mendacious?
He found their vindictive conversation positively turned his stomach. Do other women behave so? He knew Georgiana did not, nor would he have tolerated such attitudes from her. There were others, though. Caroline Bingley was far from the first ambitious woman to pursue him and certainly not the only one to resort to snidely maligning anyone who could be perceived as competition.
It was not only the competition, he corrected himself, but anyone she perceived as less important than herself. She had been mocking the Bennet family from their very first introduction, before he had ever verbally made note of Elizabeth’s appeal.
Again, the playful, enigmatic smile that would forever be burned into his heart came to his thoughts. Miss Elizabeth Bennet may traipse the dirty country paths and speak a little too pertly for fashion, but in every way that mattered, she was far more the lady of the two. Even with her skirts doused in mud and that challenging lilt to her voice, that genuine tender heart of hers shone through. She brimmed with confidence, more so than he had ever thought should become a woman, but because of her bold assurance, she was not afraid to humble herself in the service of another.
That , he decided, was the true quality an accomplished woman should possess to begin with. Lacking a gentle spirit, everything else was just a cheap veneer, doomed to crack and fade. He frowned unconsciously toward Caroline. He had once thought her a fine enough lady, though never fine enough to interest him. Now that he had met with the real thing, the ideal combination of womanly grace and hearty goodness, he saw that everything else, every other woman he had ever known save his mother and sister, was just a poor imitation. And yet, I must learn to live without her!
The week following Elizabeth’s departure from Netherfield with her sister, while riding through the tiny village of Longbourn, he had spied the luscious beauty bringing a basket to one of their tenants. He had stayed well back, not wishing to attract her notice. He watched three small, ragged children embrace her with glee and admired the easy camaraderie she shared with them. There was no condescension or haughtiness in her manner. Instead, he believed he saw true affection as she greeted each one.
To his utter astonishment, after gently paying her respects to the lady of the house, the oldest of the children coaxed Elizabeth to play a short round of stickball in the street with him. He tried to disapprove of her conduct as he watched her throwing, hitting, and running like any street urchin. What would London society say of this little scene!
Instead, he only felt his admiration swell. With an enchanting mixture of elegance and enthusiasm, she could have been playing Graces rather than a rough pauper child’s game. What a mistress she would make! Though playful as a child, she still looked and acted every inch the lady he believed her to be. He was more than certain that the tenant family adored her as they did no other. She did not remain long, but Darcy had lingered a good while after, perplexed at the enigma that was this bewitching woman.
Never since his mother had Darcy encountered a lady of such genuine worth, who treated others with dignity and gentleness regardless of their station. Most women of his acquaintance would be afraid of dirtying themselves by such an association. Elizabeth Bennet flaunted it, and to his admiring eyes only looked the more refined for it.
He had been brought up in the finest circles, to every privilege. Though his mother was lavishly generous and considerate to all, it was his father who had trained him from the earliest age in his future duties as the master. He learned to accord respect to the people around him but never to treat those of lower rank as equals to himself. That behaviour automatically branded oneself as also of low class and was unpardonable in the heir to Pemberley.
Elizabeth Bennet’s peculiar manners stretched and challenged him. There was nothing base or unladylike about her, yet she blithely thwarted every stricture his father had drilled into him. Still... He mused briefly that his mother might well have been delighted to make Miss Elizabeth’s acquaintance.
As another brittle remark about the younger Bennet sisters reached his ears, he began to ponder his own manners honestly. He never would possess Charles’ ease in company, but he believed he never behaved insultingly as his sisters did, either to a person’s face or behind their back. He knew he was not good at carrying on stimulating conversation, but neither did he think he gave offence. If I had her by my side, with her bright eyes and teasing manner that never seems to be intimidated, I might even find it possible to please in company!
He frowned. Had he offended her? She had seemed rather put out with him last night. He doubted it could be simply over the matter of George Wickham, that reprobate who did not deserve even to be in the same room with her. Truly though, she had been irritated by something. He could well imagine Wickham had told her any number of fanciful tales, but he would not allow himself to set matters straight in that regard—much as he longed to!
The satisfaction of seeing himself vindicated in her eyes was mightily tempting, but if she could never be his anyway, taking such a risk with Georgiana’s future was merely vanity. The truth was too dangerous, and to simply respond in kind was unthinkable. It would not do to stoop to the same behaviours he found so disgusting in others.
His manners were certainly not perfect, he admitted at last. It was a subject that required some serious introspection, but not now. He would never see her again in any case, so he put the matter aside for the moment. The long carriage ride ahead would provide a perfect opportunity. He expected he would have to feign sleep to avoid conversation with Miss Bingley.
“You are very quiet this morning, Mr Darcy!” His head jerked around as that very lady’s affected tones reached him.
“What?” He reacted with uncharacteristic brusqueness.
Caroline preened a little. “I hope you are not pining for the loss of Eliza Bennet’s pert opinions and fine eyes.”
He stiffened. “Not at all. Quite the reverse.” I am glad, truly I am! I must get away from her so I can stop comparing every other woman I have ever known to her and finding them wanting!
Perhaps if he punished himself by spending the foreseeable future in Miss Bingley’s company, he might someday find another woman more pleasing by comparison. This time he would take care that her connections were suitable. Yes, for certainly that is all this present attraction is. I have been stuck in this house with Caroline for too long and am naturally drawn to one who is quite her opposite. It serves me right for allowing this to happen!
He sighed, unaware that he drew Caroline’s calculating attentions as he did so. Every fibre of his being rebelled against his determined course, but he would not be shaken. His will would triumph, and he would be the better for the misery he was about to force upon himself. He cast another grimace toward Miss Bingley. Then again, if I had exerted some simple self-control this morning and not exhausted my horse, I could have ridden Pluto to London. Fair weather or foul, the scenery would have been preferable.
Hoofbeats outside attracted everyone’s notice. Straining his neck to see who was calling, Bingley recognized the Meryton apothecary who had attended Miss Bennet during her illness. “Why, it is Jones! What could have brought him, I wonder?” He rose and bounded like a puppy out of the room to the front door, delighted for the distraction. He reached the door quickly, opening it before the butler could. Darcy stayed put. Caroline rolled her eyes for her sister’s benefit in response to her brother’s undignified behaviour. Mr Hurst only continued to reduce the pile of sausage on his plate.
Bingley returned to the room immediately, motioning Darcy to follow him. Curious, he set down his coffee cup and went after Bingley and Jones as they disappeared into the study. Bingley offered them each a seat.
“Well, Jones, what is it, man?” Bingley could not contain his interest.
The balding apothecary cleared his throat. “You gentlemen are quite well acquainted with the Bennet family, I understand?”
Bingley’s face fell, and Darcy felt his pulse quicken. “Has something happened?” Bingley asked tremulously.
“Mr Bennet had a rather serious accident this morning. It seems he was riding, and his horse took a fall.”
Darcy started in shock. “I saw him only this morning, not far from here. This could not have happened long ago?”
The older man nodded. “Only a short while ago. It was rather close to his home, I gather. When I arrived, he had already been carried into the house by his butler and Miss Elizabeth.”
Darcy quirked an eyebrow. Somehow, he could imagine Elizabeth hefting her father up the stairs, and coolly commanding the situation as she did so. “How seriously is he injured?”
Jones shook his head. “It is too early to tell. He is unconscious and shows no signs of waking, but he is breathing well. He has a sizeable lump on the back of his head, but I cannot detect any other injury. I am calling into town for more supplies and checking back later today. I am not a surgeon, and the nearest one I know of is in Hatfield. We have to try to coax him to swallow so he can take nourishment, but I expect we will be able to do so. The immediate concern now is the management of Mr Bennet’s affairs. I was wondering if I might impose upon you gentlemen, as his nearest neighbours, to lend some assistance?”
Bingley hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Darcy. “We were bound for London this morning. We both had some pressing affairs to attend to in Town. Why can his staff not manage while he is indisposed?”
Jones steepled his fingers. With a sigh, he admitted his true concerns. “It is Mr Collins. He is heir, as you must know. If anything were to happen to Mr Bennet, the entire Longbourn estate falls to him.”
Bingley was aghast. “You cannot mean to imply….”
Jones held up a hand. “I do not imply anything. I only suggest that he is not the most tactful of men, and under the present circumstances, the Bennet ladies are quite distressed. I was hoping to find them an ally while their father’s situation remains unknown. They do have an uncle in London, whom I would expect within a few days. I only thought… well, if you are bound for London yourselves, there is nothing else for it. They will have to wait for their uncle. I am sorry to have troubled you, gentlemen.”
He began to rise. Bingley, who had been stroking his chin thoughtfully, spoke up. “Wait...” He turned to Darcy, who had been watching his friend’s reactions carefully. Darcy knew what Bingley would say before the words were out of his mouth. “We can delay our departure for a few days, can we not?” His face was full of eager concern for his “angel,” as he had taken to calling Miss Bennet.
With a sigh and a small nod, Darcy acquiesced. He was torn between his prior resolve to put as much distance between himself and Elizabeth Bennet as possible and his concern for her well-being. Whether she could be his or not, he did not like to think of her in affliction, and he did pity her for the necessity of bearing with an unpleasant houseguest at such a time. What could a couple more days hurt?
Perhaps he would even have his fill of her if he were called upon to spend hours each day around her family. With that vague hope, he resigned himself to staying a while longer in Hertfordshire.