Page 4 of Strange Happenings at Longbourn (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations #11)
Chapter Four
“What an excessively dull way to spend an evening! Louisa and I were just discussing last night’s event. We have agreed there was no refinement or elegance. The company was insipid, and the refreshments nothing to remember. What say you, Mr. Darcy? Were you as dreadfully bored as I?”
Darcy groaned internally. It was far too early to deal with the sisters’ complaints.
He chose his words carefully, concerned about giving Miss Bingley the false belief of his agreement with her views.
“Country society is by its nature very different from what we encounter in Town. I saw nothing of which to complain. ”
Miss Bingley’s tittering laugh grated on his nerves.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, you are too magnanimous! I am certain you would not find any such uncouth behavior at gatherings near Pemberley. Your great estate lends it elegance to every function or soiree within fifty miles! These trite events my brother insists we attend are surely nothing at all compared to what we might find in the North.”
Darcy said nothing more, but merely sipped his tea.
A few months ago, he might have shared her perspective, but no longer.
Richard had laid out his cousin’s faults without mercy, and Darcy could see clearly now.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Mrs. Hurst rising and leaving the room.
There was a rustle of skirts, and Miss Bingley sat beside him.
“We are alone now, sir, and you need not keep your true feelings to yourself any longer. Tell me, were you as appalled by last night’s festivities as I?
” Her hand slid onto his sleeve, and it took every gentlemanly bit of restraint within him not to pull away.
“Why,” she continued, “Louisa and I spent the entire evening in tedious company. How did you fare? Our separation soon after our arrival is to be lamented, of course. I am only sorry you were left to fend for yourself among the heathens. It would be insupportable to spend many an evening in such a manner. You agree, do you not? ”
“I assure you, madam, that I was more than agreeably engaged last night.” Darcy took another sip of tea.
“Oh?” Miss Bingley sidled closer. “Pray, tell me what occupied you so thoroughly?” He turned to look at her and she batted her eyes.
Suddenly feeling vexed at her proximity, Darcy said the first thing that came to mind. “I spent much of my time in contemplation of how delightful a pair of fine eyes are in the face of a pretty woman.”
She preened. “And who, may I ask, inspired such delightful ruminations?” Clearly, she thought he meant her. Darcy would abuse her of her fantasies.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” came his reply.
Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh.” Miss Bingley removed her hand from his person. “Tell me, sir, when am I to wish you joy?” The sour look on her face could have curdled milk.
“Your imagination is very rapid, Miss Bingley. It is not so unusual to admire a person without having any intentions towards matrimony. If I am so inclined to pursue a courtship, however, I promise you will be the first to know.” Blast, that was rude.
Darcy winced at his lack of gentlemanly behavior and scrambled for something to say as the lady stood up, huffing in irritation .
“Miss Bingley,” he called. She stopped and turned to look at him. “Forgive me for my intemperate words. It has come to my attention that you have certain…expectations. I must tell you now that I have no interest…”
She waited for a moment as he paused before speaking. “No interest in me, you mean.” Her bitter words pierced his heart. “May I ask why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus treated?”
“I apologize for not addressing the matter sooner. I confess I have only lately realized the…depth of your expectations. As a gentleman, I ought to have spoken to disabuse you as soon as I comprehended. I hoped my disinterest was obvious.” He shrugged helplessly.
“We have been designed for each other!” Miss Bingley’s frantic voice pitched up an octave.
“I have waited years for your proposal, attempted to be the perfect example of ladylike accomplishments, only to be disregarded in favor of a low-born country mouse. I have never been more insulted in my entire life!” She whirled around and stalked angrily from the room, forcefully closing the door behind her.
Darcy sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“Well, that went well.” Bingley entered the breakfast room from a side door .
“Eavesdropping, Bingley?” Darcy knew he sounded bitter and a bit annoyed, but he did not care.
Bingley shrugged and took the seat opposite his. “I was about to enter when the entire thing began. What would you have me do? At least my presence means she cannot claim a compromise.”
“I thank you for that.” Darcy took a scone from a platter and cut it open before adding a generous layer of preserves.
“I know you and I have discussed my position when it comes to marrying your sister, but I ought to have made my disinterest clear to her long ago. It was badly done to allow her to hope.”
“What is done is done. She knows your sentiments. Perhaps she and Louisa will hurry back to Town and leave me in peace.” Bingley began to fill his plate with bacon, eggs, and toast. “If they are not here, they will cease disparaging my neighbors…and Miss Bennet.” He looked up.
“Now, of more interest to me is your admiration of Miss Elizabeth.”
Darcy groaned. “You will never leave me in peace now! Can you not forget what I impulsively said?”
“Not a chance! This information is too splendid to disregard. The impenetrable, immovable Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy has been shot by Cupid’s arrow. Tell me, does the lady know of your admiration? ”
“My admiration, as you call it, is but a fledgling thing. Miss Elizabeth has caught my attention, true, but as someone worth knowing better. Her conversation is intelligent and engaging—”
“You called her eyes fine, Darcy. That is not merely a meeting of minds.” Bingley’s knife clattered as he set it on his plate. “Why do you resist?”
“It is too soon. I cannot declare an interest when we have met but a few times.”
Bingley chuckled. “Then you had best take the advice you so graciously bestowed upon me only a short while ago. Now is the time to know her better. You never fail to study a matter thoroughly before making a decision, and so I have great faith you will do just as you advised me. Imagine, you and I shall perhaps be brothers after all.”
“Your imagination is as rapid as your sister’s.
” Darcy’s words made Bingley laugh again, and after scowling playfully for a moment, he joined in.
“Very well,” he said when their mirth was spent.
“I shall make every attempt to know more of Miss Elizabeth. My beginning was not the best, and I suspect I have much to atone for, though she has forgiven me for my words.”
Bingley looked confused. “I am afraid I have not the pleasure of understanding,” he said slowly. Suddenly, comprehension struck, and he perked up. “The lady from the assembly! Was it not Miss Bennet’s sister who you insulted?”
“You have the right of it. Providence gave me the opportunity, and a healthy dose of good sense prompted me to tender my apologies. She accepted, and we have resolved to be friendly.” Darcy took a bite of his scone, pausing to savor the delightful preserves.
“Then you are much better off than you suppose. Ladies can be fickle creatures, but if Miss Elizabeth is as intelligent as you say, then she will see your sincerity and behave accordingly. Now, let us speak of other things. You promised you would come shooting today.”
They finished their breakfast and parted ways, Darcy agreeing to meet Bingley for sport later that afternoon. Meanwhile, he returned to his chambers to complete a few matters of business.
As he poured over letters from his steward and his housekeepers in both Town and Derbyshire, Darcy’s thoughts wandered to the conversation he had shared with Elizabeth.
Missing gloves, candles, and a locket, he mused.
Every instinct and experience I have had tells me they have a thief in their midst. Does Mr. Bennet know?
The thefts were rather brazen. All the missing items had disappeared from the family’s bedchambers.
How had someone crept about the house undetected? Could it perhaps be a servant?
He set aside the report from Pemberley’s head groom, unread, and leaned back in his chair, temple resting lightly against his fingers.
He had dealt with petty theft before—at the London townhouse, a scullery maid had once been caught pilfering food and handkerchiefs.
It had been quickly resolved, but not before damaging the trust of several long-standing staff members.
In Derbyshire, there had been an incident involving a dishonest footman, though that matter had been far more delicate, as the man’s family lived on estate land.
There was some worry for the Bennets’ welfare— Miss Elizabeth’s in particular. The idea of her being unsettled in her own home, subject to suspicion or, worse, intrusion, made his jaw tighten.
But she is clever, he reminded himself. Clever, intuitive, observant. If anyone can untangle this mystery, it is her.
And yet… even the cleverest minds could miss what was hidden in plain sight.
He had watched her face as she described the situation at Lucas Lodge—her concern for her sister, Miss Lydia, and her distrust of the assumptions made by her family.
She had not spoken rashly, nor with the dramatic flair some young ladies might adopt.
No, Miss Elizabeth had delivered her thoughts with calm analysis, eyes bright with something that stirred admiration in him.
Not just her mind, but her heart—open, unclouded by self-interest.
Smart, capable, lovely… Yes, she was that and more.
He rubbed his thumb along the edge of his signet ring, thoughtful. She had shown him a grace he had not deserved atop Oakham Mount, had offered him the chance to begin again—not with flirtation or fawning but with friendship and a clear-eyed gaze that made him long to be worthy of it.
Darcy sat forward again, picking up the letter from Derbyshire. But the words blurred as a different thought took hold.
Perhaps I might do more than merely offer assistance. Perhaps I might observe discreetly and learn something of the household myself. He knew enough of household rhythms, enough of staff roles and misdeeds, to notice signs others might overlook.
And if doing so brought him into Miss Elizabeth’s presence again—well, that was simply an… advantageous coincidence.
He folded the letter without reading it and reached for paper and pen. He would speak with Bingley and propose a visit to Longbourn. For Bingley’s sake, of course. Naturally .
Darcy finished writing the letter and sealed it with his signet, the wax still warm beneath his fingers.
He glanced at the remaining correspondence on his desk and sighed—half of it would remain unanswered until the evening.
His concentration had fled, and it would not return until the matter of Elizabeth Bennet—and her unsettling household mystery—was settled in his mind.
A knock came at the door.
“Yes?”
The door opened smoothly, and Brisby, his valet, stepped inside with his usual unobtrusive efficiency. “The shooting party will be leaving shortly, sir. Mr. Bingley asked that I remind you, in case you had lost track of time.”
Darcy stood, stretching the stiffness from his back. “Quite right. Lay out the dark green coat—the one without the embroidery.”
Brisby inclined his head. “The plain wool, sir?”
“Yes.”
Within minutes, Brisby had helped him out of his morning coat and into attire more suited for the field.
The dark green coat was paired with buff breeches, a soft cravat knotted simply at the throat, and high leather boots polished to a dull shine.
Brisby moved with practiced speed, brushing the shoulders and tugging the hem to lie just so.
“Anything else, sir?”
“No. That will be all.”
With a nod, Brisby retreated, and Darcy made his way down the stairs and out to the stables, where the scent of horses, fresh hay, and autumn wind greeted him.
The groom handed him the reins to his mount just as Bingley emerged from the barn, his cheeks pink with the afternoon breeze and enthusiasm.
“There you are!” Bingley called cheerfully. “I was beginning to think you had decided to abandon the sport in favor of your ledgers.”
Darcy swung easily into the saddle. “You mean you doubted me,” he replied dryly.
“I confess it crossed my mind,” Bingley said with a grin. “You have been rather lost in thought the past day or two. Distracted. Preoccupied. Dare I say…afflicted.”
“Afflicted?” Darcy arched a brow.
“Yes—by a pair of fine eyes and a quick wit, if I am not mistaken.”
Darcy shook his head but did not deny it. They nudged their horses into a trot, following the others towards the coverts along the edge of the estate.
After a quiet moment, he turned slightly in the saddle. “What are your thoughts on calling at Longbourn again soon? ”
Bingley shot him a sidelong glance and laughed. “I knew it! There is no use pretending otherwise now, Darcy. You have already spoken of Miss Elizabeth, and we have not yet reached the field.”
Darcy opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it.
Bingley continued, good-natured and smug. “I am very fond of Miss Bennet, as you well know, and I should be delighted to call on her again. But let us not pretend this sudden eagerness is about my interests.”
Darcy looked ahead, schooling his features into a mask of impassivity. “It is not unreasonable to inquire after the well-being of a family acquaintance.”
Bingley chuckled. “It becomes less reasonable the more you pretend it is only that.”
Darcy gave him a flat look, and Bingley merely grinned. “Come now. You may hide behind your scowls all you like, but I see the truth of it. And if Miss Elizabeth has captured your interest, I cannot say I blame you.”
Darcy said nothing for a moment, then admitted, “She is…unlike anyone I have ever known.”
“Indeed,” Bingley said cheerfully. “And what a delightful lady she is. Just the sort to stir even the proudest and most silent of gentlemen. ”
Darcy let a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth, then spurred his horse forward as the others called back that the beaters were ready.
He would shoot today, yes—but he found that his aim was not the only thing focused. With each passing moment, his resolve grew stronger.
He would go to Longbourn again.
And perhaps, if he dared, discover not just the source of stolen candles and gloves—but the truth of a woman who had unsettled him in the most unexpected and welcome of ways.