Page 19 of Some Natural Importance (Pride, Prejudice and Romance #3)

“No, look here. It is but an example of what could prove far more valuable to you and those in the county.”

He spread the parchment map across the desk and pointed to a small area. “A Roman map of where valuables, such as silver jewellery and gold coins, are buried.”

“Ah, such as the Eye Hoard in Suffolk?” Mr Bennet squinted at the maps. “You were not yet born, I suppose, but I was a young man in ’81, and the imagination ran wild. There is more?”

“It is possible your parcel in St Albans may hold more of these treasures.” The moment he spoke the word he thought of Elizabeth and her meandering walks to find treasures.

The older man gasped. “Copperdale? Things more valuable than turnips and rocks and a source of fresh water? Surely you jest.”

“I had some books of maps and geology sent down with Hunt. Bingley’s brother Mr Hurst has some knowledge of maps, and there is a chance that your acreage holds treasures from the time the Romans occupied it as Verulamium.”

Mr Bennet looked so stunned that Darcy rose to pour him some brandy before he continued his explanation.

“There is no guarantee of this, of course, but the mere promise of it increases the value of the land. There might be adventurous investors hoping to enrich themselves through chance and speculation.”

“Indeed, though more often in America or the West Indies. Not Hertfordshire.”

“Sir, if we are certain that this land is not part of the entail?—”

“It is not. Those fields and woods are mine, acquired long after the entail was in place. I have the deed and papers to prove it.” Mr Bennet took a draught of the brandy and sat back in his chair.

“As we both know, despite it being independent of the entail, Mrs Bennet is unlikely to prevail, let alone succeed, as owner to this property.”

Darcy could see it clear as day: Elizabeth striving to support her family’s claim to the land and find some solution to their financial security. All would fall upon her slender shoulders.

Mr Bennet continued musing aloud. “Mrs Bennet has five thousand pounds to inherit. I have done little to safeguard their security. I must ensure she and the girls inherit Copperdale, if not to maintain it then to reap the benefits of what may be there.”

Darcy spoke carefully, wishing the man to fully understand the importance of their conversation. “You do not wish to burden Miss Elizabeth, who I believe you think of as your heir, to wage such a battle. You would prefer she and her sisters simply reap the profits.”

Mr Bennet picked up the small coin, weighing it in his hand before peering at it closely with an eyeglass. “I never thought to give it my attention. Matthew gave it to Jane and Lizzy, and after one of their sisters tried to eat it, it ended up in here.”

He glanced at the papers again and took a deep breath, coughing as he inhaled. When he was again still, he appeared grave and determined.

“You must purchase it from me before I am not able to sell it.”

“The coin was a gift to your daughters, sir. As for its valuation?—”

“The land, Mr Darcy. I wish you would purchase Copperdale Farm.”

“Mr Bennet, the land holds a potential for untold value. But as of now, it is a dozen acres of mostly untillable soil. It requires further mapping and excavation. Digging out and dredging the stream, building a new dam?—”

“I do not have time for that, Mr Darcy. I must sell it immediately to ensure the proceeds provide for my wife and daughters.”

Darcy sat back in his chair. “Your illness...it is certain?”

“Your Mr Hunt said nothing? ”

Darcy shook his head.

“My heart is weakened by my lungs’ struggles.

An ugly conundrum, and my time has dwindled to a few months if I am lucky, but more likely it will be far less.

” Mr Bennet waved his hand carelessly at Darcy’s shocked expression.

“I have been a poor guardian of this estate, less mindful of its maintenance and expansion than I have been of my library.”

Mr Bennet’s voice was hoarse, weakened by his cough and melancholy. “I have done little to provide for my family, and as Mrs Bennet will say, and often does, the hedgerows await the widows of spendthrift and lazy husbands.”

“I am truly sorry for this news.” Darcy felt his eyes sting, his sorrow directed towards that of a doomed man grasping his failures. But his thoughts centred on the daughter closest to her father and the loss she would feel.

“You, Mr Darcy, have been my good friend these past weeks. You have kept me company, challenged me at the chessboard, and now you have brought me additional hope for Mrs Bennet and my daughters. It appears that my family may indeed have something after I am gone.” A small smile spread across his pale face.

“I thank you, sir, for your friendship and advice.”

“A shared sentiment, Mr Bennet.” Darcy poured his own glass and refilled Mr Bennet’s.

“However, they cannot own the land or profit from it. I beg for your help on this matter.”

Darcy nodded, making mental lists and calculations as he replied.

“I must meet with my solicitor, but I believe there is legal value in purchasing the land and holding it for the Bennet family as we map and explore it. The funds from the purchase may be divided into dowries and a living for the six Bennet ladies. The water rights at least merit that much. If our additional efforts prove fruitful and we discover more to the land than rocks and potatoes”—he smiled—“your wife and daughters will profit all the more. ”

Mr Bennet sat motionless, staring at Darcy.

Darcy was skilled at a contest of wills, but his companion’s expression was worrisome. “Sir?”

Mr Bennet cleared his throat. “A generous offer, indeed, but why would you do such a thing?”

“My interest is roused,” Darcy said with real meaning. He had been without a project for too long, and this undertaking had value for more than himself. Its benefits were many and much needed, whether or not the Romans had abandoned their treasures beneath Copperdale’s soil.

“You have my word, sir.” He grasped Mr Bennet’s hand. “Who else may know of this?”

“My brother Gardiner. I fear that my brother Philips would not keep such news away from his wife. My wife and her sister keep no secrets from each other or the world at large.”

Darcy nodded. Society in a confined circle such as this was little different from that found in town. News, gossip, and tittle-tattle about one’s friends and neighbours.

“Philips shall have a sealed letter with my will. I shall write a note to Mr Gardiner that you and Mr Bingley may be kind enough to deliver. A more detailed communication will follow,” Mr Bennet added, looking at Darcy over the rim of his glasses.

“There is one more matter...the interloper himself.”

“Mr Collins shall not come to Longbourn,” Darcy assured him. “I have written to him and informed him I shall soon be at Rosings.”

“Will you?”

Darcy grinned. “In the New Year.”

“You are unconnected to my family. You cannot write to Mrs Bennet. Are we certain this benevolent scheme will work?”

“I shall meet with my solicitor and prepare the papers.”

“You have relieved the mind of an old man, if not my conscience. How may I return the favour? You have your own concerns.” Mr Bennet leaned back in his chair. “This would be so much easier for us all, Mr Darcy, if you simply married one of my daughters.”

Darcy froze. “Pray excuse me…you wish me to what?”

Mr Bennet shrugged, a twinkle in his tired eyes. “You need a wife, sir. Jane is considered the beauty, but as you know, my Lizzy is quite clever, and humour often ages better than beauty.”

Darcy, trying to shrug off a familiar sense of irritation, said, “Mr Bennet, much as I wish to offer you my advice and assistance, I shall not offer my hand to your daughter.”

The older man’s mirth faded and he adopted a more serious tone. “I have not seen Lizzy’s mind and wit so engaged with any gentleman before you. I believe it is a mutual fascination.”

The flush Darcy felt only added to his vexation, and even some sense of betrayal by Mr Bennet.

Was a wife attached to every kind overture?

How dare Bennet wish for anything more than all that Darcy had already offered!

“Has my advice, my promises of assistance, not proved enough for you? Were they mere prelude to binding me to your daughter?”

“No, not at all,” Mr Bennet replied, seemingly indifferent to the coldness in Darcy’s voice. “Nor a prize or reward for that assistance. It was kindly meant—I do think you well-suited, but like Mrs Bennet, I am clumsy in my matchmaking.”

Darcy accepted the explanation and rose to leave. Mr Bennet’s hand gripped his arm. It was a remarkably weak grip. He sat back in his chair and awaited the apology he anticipated.

“The marital state is not unknown to you—I understand that you are a widower,” Mr Bennet rasped. “Is marriage so awful that you fear entering it again?”

Awful? Marriage was centred on a pledge under God, binding together the lives of a man to a woman in what one hoped was love and felicity.

His marriage to Anne had been based on a pledge of friendship and secrets; he would protect Anne and her reputation until her life, and that of the misbegotten child she carried, ended.

She could not survive her illness nor her pregnancy; Darcy would never forget her desolate expression as she realised her fate or the horrified desperation in Lady Catherine’s voice as she railed against the inevitable.

“ Save one of them! Take the babe and save my Anne! ”

He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Mr Bennet. “It was a difficult state at that time, but not one I wish to eschew permanently.”

“You have provided me a solution to my problem, and it may be the best answer to your own dilemma.” Mr Bennet patted his arm. “I have seen how you look at my Lizzy. She likes a ballroom better than you do, but she is more than tolerable.”

Darcy groaned. “Sir?—”

“Jane is my firstborn. My duty is to her first, and this cousin, when he arrives, will wish to marry one of them. Once I am gone, they will have no choice unless they hold the monies from the land.

“I shall not be here to deny him, and Collins is determined to marry Jane or Lizzy. Neither girl was at home for his previous visit to Longbourn, but Mrs Bennet was effusive about Jane’s goodness and beauty.

If Mr Bingley does not return soon with the intention to wed her, Collins will choose Jane.

Her mother and I had hoped for a better life for her, but she will make a good wife to a vicar and show kindness to his parishioners.

Far better than Mary, perhaps, who would be my choice for my cousin. ”

Mr Bennet paused and swallowed a gulp of water. “If Jane is promised elsewhere, as her mother hopes and believes, Collins will move his affections to Lizzy. It is a miserable prospect for her, and one which brings me no peace.” He sat back in his seat, looking glum.

Seeing one’s beloved daughter or sister wed to a man unfit for the role of husband could bring peace to no one.

Whatever this Collins was, he could provide a home for his wife—if not for her mother and sisters.

A woman as clever and witty as Elizabeth would be miserable.

Would she be as miserable if he did not offer for her?

She would be surprised, he thought. Certainly disappointed.

Would she sulk, as other young ladies were wont to do when thwarted?

Go into a decline as Georgiana had done?

Darcy admitted he had not acted with utmost caution in his dealings with Elizabeth—meeting her for private walks was unwise, no matter the innocence of their exchanges—but certainly he had done nothing to make her expect a proposal.

And surely pride alone would allow her to carry on without giving anyone else any idea of their brief flirtation.

Now, then. How would he feel?

“Think on it, Mr Darcy. My Lizzy is formed for happiness. I should not wish that be ruined by a poor match. I would rather prefer to see her bring that happiness to a man who truly needs it, and who would appreciate her worth and value her intelligence.”

Once again Darcy made ready to stand, desperate to leave.

He need hear no further pleas; his head already was spinning in disbelief that he was even considering the idea.

Yes, he found Elizabeth comely, and he had fought against wishing to be in her company, but a marriage was based on more than attraction and desire.

Still, what expectations had he raised in her if her father was heedful of it?

“We must make haste for you to purchase the land and prevent it and the money going to Collins. You have done so much but are under no obligation. However, I believe Elizabeth has been unsettled by losing her seat in this room, and I will explain to her, and only her, all you have done. You are a good man, Mr Darcy. ”

Darcy bowed his head. He had stepped into a quagmire when he came to this town, and what had he done but walk deeper and deeper into it? God help him. He did not know where this reluctance to refuse came from. He did not want to know.

“I shall call on the Gardiners to deliver your letters.”