Page 13 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Rarely have I met two men better suited for a lifelong friendship.” Mr Bennet gestured toward Bingley and Sir William Lucas, engaged in a lively conversation as Hurst stared at them.

Darcy stifled a smile. Bingley had been delighted by the invitation to shoot birds on Longbourn’s lands. He had spotted a trio of pheasants strolling about the grass there on his first visit and determined that the best birds in the country must favour his neighbour’s estate.

“Bingley makes friends easily,” he said. “I can but imagine his happiness in finding a kindred soul who enjoys discussing the delights of both London and Meryton.” He eyed the three men. “Of course, the expression of their joy in the land adversely affects our purpose.”

“Ah. Better for us the solemn perusal of the skies and the bush.” Mr Bennet chuckled. “If Mrs Bennet has no partridges for her dinner table, it is my brother who will feel her wrath.”

Darcy was startled to learn the ridiculous man was a relation of the introverted Bennet. “Mr Lucas is your brother? ”

“Sir William Lucas is my neighbour. Perhaps the most amusing of them.” Mr Bennet gestured in the distance, where a portly man stood talking to a grouser.

“Mr Philips is husband to my wife’s sister.

” The older man gave him a wry look. “Jane, my eldest daughter, of whom you have heard much, is in London with my brother Gardiner and his family.”

Oh yes, the infamous beauty of the family . “Ah yes. Where again?”

“Cheapside. He lives near his warehouses.”

Darcy was not fooled. As casual as Mr Bennet’s tone might be, his eyes were keen and set on his face.

He did not know why he had expressed his curiosity so openly.

He did not know why he was so curious. What if Mr Bennet thought him interested in his mysterious and beautiful daughter?

Perhaps he should have followed through on his impulse to leave this place.

He was finding himself in real danger of feeling some connexion to it, and some sense of obligation to the people here.

Or, at the very least, to the man standing next to him.

It was difficult to accept, let alone understand.

Perhaps it was the opportunity to converse with a man the age his father would have been, similar in age to his uncles, who knew little of him and thus held no expectations and demanded neither allegiance nor obedience.

The crack of a gunshot commanded his attention. He turned to the man at his side.

“Mr Bennet, I would speak to you on a matter of some importance.”

If Mr Bennet had been unamused on hearing Darcy’s warning about Wickham, Bingley was incredulous.

“You wish me to exclude the officers?”

“Not all of them. Only Lieutenant Wickham.”

Bingley frowned, looking more troubled than his usual wont. He crossed his arms and stared down at Darcy. “Your temper is one that does not easily forgive, but you must explain your reasons. I mean, to single out one man for exclusion?”

Darcy looked up from the book opened on his lap. “He is not a good man, Bingley. We share a long acquaintance—he is the son of my late father’s steward—and he is not a gentleman.”

“ I am not a gentleman by birth,” Bingley replied sharply. “But I endeavour to behave as one.”

“You are my friend and a gentleman. Wickham is neither, and he has never been a gentleman with ladies. Housemaids are not safe in his company.” His gaze shifted from Bingley’s newly outraged expression to the closed doors and he lowered his voice even more. “Neither are maidens nor lonely wives.”

Bingley sank into the chair beside his friend. “You know of this, of these nefarious behaviours? These occurred at Pemberley?”

Darcy waved his hand, wishing to go no further in detailing his history with Wickham.

“He has left a trail of misery wherever he goes.” Pausing to ensure Bingley was content with his answer, he continued.

“I severed ties with him the second time he approached me for money after wasting the bequest left him by my father.”

“I knew nothing of these troubles.” Bingley let out a deep breath. “He is a scoundrel.”

“He is.” Darcy leaned closer to Bingley. “I have informed Mr Bennet as well. Hearing that Wickham was working his charms on the younger Miss Bennets led me to act.”

Bingley gave short nod of approval. “And the rest of the town families? Are we to leave them exposed?”

“No matter the truth in the accusations, I would prefer not to be seen as his slanderer. But I shall speak to his commanding officer.”

“Good, good.” Bingley gazed thoughtfully into the fire. “ Son of Pemberley’s former steward? I dare hope Georgiana was too young to have any acquaintance with Wickham.”

Darcy’s stomach roiled. He revealed so little of himself to his friend, and the story of his sister’s perfidy and near ruin was one he could not share.

“Georgiana believes in the goodness of everyone she meets,” he replied stiffly.

Bingley turned his head and gave him a smile. “You could not have raised her to believe otherwise, I suppose. However, my friend, your concern for her is obvious, especially at the arrival of her every letter and in every conversation touching upon her.”

Darcy stared at the floor, a powerful feeling of near panic in his breast, his eyes tracing the design in the thick, red-patterned rug. He looked up when he heard Bingley stand and begin pacing around the room. But Bingley’s easily distractible nature saved him.

“Miss Jane Bennet will arrive soon, before the ball.”

When it became clear Bingley awaited a response, Darcy granted him a short one. “Yes, I believe so.”

“I look forward to making her acquaintance. She is said to be the handsomest of the sisters, and already I think Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lydia are quite pretty. Not that the others are not, but I have heard so much that it leads me to greatly anticipate meeting Miss Bennet to see whether such an angelic creature can exist.”

“Is the ball your means to find out?” Darcy stood and strode to the fireplace, grabbing the poker and pushing about a half-burnt log. “Are you here to meet a lady or to learn about managing an estate?”

Bingley shrugged, a lazy grin on his face. “Country living abounds with possibilities, hmm? ”

It was a rare occasion when Mr Bennet did more at dinner than nod appreciatively when his wife demanded special attention be paid to the freshness of the fish or to the golden crust of the pudding.

Therefore, his pronouncement prohibiting their contact with the militia and firm eschewing of any argument in their favour was all the more startling to the indignant ladies of Longbourn.

The hue and cry that ensued quickly drove Elizabeth to follow her father to his haven.

“Lizzy, I shall not be moved.”

“With no word of explanation? A simple refusal to the officers my sisters and I have befriended?” She moved closer and sat at his feet. “Papa, you are asking us to cut our friends in public with no reason to provide them or our neighbours.”

“Your friends , whom you have known for less than a se’nnight?” He frowned and pushed up his glasses to rub his eyes. “A polite nod is the work of a moment but the interaction will not go beyond that.”

“You believe me so shallow as to fall to the charms of a redcoat?”

“An intelligent girl is as in need of protection as the silliest girls in the kingdom. One man in particular is not suitable for friendship nor trust. I will not be gainsaid into allowing him into my home or to charm my daughters.”

Seeing her eyes widen, he continued. “Lieutenant Wickham. I have learnt enough of the man to recognise he means no good to the people of Meryton.”

“Learnt enough?” Her mind worked quickly, remembering where—and with whom—her father had spent his day. A flash of anger whipped through her.

“You take the word of a man you have known for weeks to disparage a man we have known for a like time?”

“I do.” He replaced his spectacles .

Dearest Jane,

Lydia is but rarely bestirred to put pen to paper but even she may send word to you of the latest outrage at Longbourn.

It has nothing to do with laces or hats or Mary’s playing but rather affects us all.

Papa has decreed we may not continue our friendship with the officers, most particularly a Lieutenant Wickham.

And who is to blame for this inexplicable decree? The infamous Mr Darcy!

I think only you, dear sister, could find the good in the man.

No word can better describe him than usurper.

My seat with Papa, our friendships with the officers…

Mr Darcy commands all he surveys. Even Mr Hawkins, known well for his fences and his grudge towards my father, fears the man enough to give him leave to ride about his woods.

Mr Darcy has little charm, only the intimidation granted by his height and his wallet.

Forgive me for neglecting my manners and all propriety, dear sister. How do you fare there, surrounded by all that is sane and kind and well-behaved? And yes, I do include little John in my salutation; he has learned about ladies and toads and how to wash his hands, has he not?

Teased by her father for being missish, berated by her mother for being mulish, and exasperated by her sisters’ every word and action, Elizabeth fled Longbourn soon after breakfast. She had slept ill, puzzling out the reasons behind her father’s actions barring Mr Wickham while welcoming Mr Darcy to their door.

She had been rude to Mr Darcy on their last meeting; her behaviour had been abrupt and challenging.

She had practically informed him that his rudeness was expected and he would remember nothing of the family in whose home he had spent hours and hours.

Why did she speak to him in such a manner?

What was it that compelled her to speak and act out of character when she was with him?

He had corrected her and confirmed that he would not forget her family. She owed him an apology.

But now, this new offence? How could she apologise to him when he had behaved so officiously about Mr Wickham? She did not know the man well enough to guess at his actions and motivations, but he was an enigma; her father was increasingly difficult to understand as well.

And then, again, as always, there he was.

“Mr Darcy, I am surprised to find you here, on one of my favourite walking paths.”

He turned around slowly and dipped his head in greeting. “Miss Elizabeth.” He stared at her for a moment. “You are surprised?”

She nodded, not trusting the angry words likely to escape if she unsealed her lips.

“This path provides a fine view of the area farms and woods, and of the morning’s sunrise,” he continued. “The reason for it being a favourite of yours is apparent to anyone with their senses intact.”

“And it is to your credit that you have yours, sir.” She astonished herself with her sharp retort and was puzzled by his gentle reply.

“I am in your debt, Miss Elizabeth, as it is you and others of your town who have found and favoured this view.”

“Few indeed. It is a rare event for me to encounter anyone on this path.”

His gaze sharpened. “You often walk alone on deserted paths? Without a companion?”

“As you see,” she replied curtly.

“Your father sanctions this?—”

“My father trusts in my abilities as well as my personal conduct and discretion, Mr Darcy.” She stared at him. “You may ask him for yourself and gain a new opportunity to curtail the honest behaviour of another innocent.”

“I beg your pardon? ”

Elizabeth turned to peer up into his now familiar face. “On your word and your word alone, a friend of my family has been barred from visiting Longbourn. It is not your house, and you can have no interest in the comings and goings of our friends and neighbours.”

He took a step back. “I assure you that your business is your own.”

“Yet here you are on my walking path, or in my father’s book room, telling him how to run his household and whom amongst our friends we must cut. Will you next rearrange the furniture and determine when we might serve lamb?”

One corner of his mouth lifted, and had she known him better, Elizabeth might have understood he was fighting a smile rather than a sneer. She turned and fled down the path to Longbourn.