Page 12 of The Bennet Heir

Chapter Eleven

E lizabeth felt a twinge of uncertainty as she accompanied her brother and his friend back to Longbourn. The look Darcy had given her when their eyes met had been significant, but she could not discern its meaning. There was an intensity in his gaze that unsettled her.

She wondered how the coming days would unfold with him as their guest and, more importantly, what would happen when he eventually departed for London. She knew he did not intend to remain in the area for long, and the thought left her with a mixture of curiosity and unease.

The fact that neither he nor her brother spoke as they traversed the mile and a half back to Longbourn affected her more than she wanted to acknowledge. As soon as she could, she excused herself to return to her room to wash and to change from her riding habit. Charlotte followed her to her room, having seen the look on her face and wanting to ask Elizabeth what had transpired.

“Eliza, what is it? Why do you look as though you could cry?” Charlotte asked.

“I am well, Charlotte,” she answered, scrubbing her face with the tepid water in the basin. “I played with the Brown children to get them out of Mrs. Brown’s way for a few minutes while she tended to the little one. We gave her the cordial and she is going to brew the tea for later. The child will be well, but I am worried that others in the family may catch it, so I left enough tea and cordial should another fall ill.”

“That is not what I am asking about, and you know it, Elizabeth Bennet. What transpired between you and Mr. Darcy that has you all aflutter?” Charlotte demanded.

“Nothing. He barely spoke after he saw me at the Browns’ house, although he did help me down from the horse when he arrived and then assisted me to mount before we left. There was a strange look in his eyes as he assisted me onto the horse, and I have no idea how to determine what it meant,” Elizabeth admitted.

“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked.

“When Jon and he returned to the house, I was outside playing with the older children. He stared at me for several moments and then assisted me onto the horse, but never said a word. I cannot determine if he is angry at me, astonished that I would play with children as I did, or what could have affected him so. But it was clear he was affected by something, and I do not even have the right to ask him about it,” Elizabeth said in a rush.

Charlotte stared at her sister by marriage for a moment, and then suddenly laughed. “Or, he saw you playing with children and was affected by it—as in, he was envisioning you with his children in the future.”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm, and she quickly lowered her gaze, hoping to conceal her flush. “Surely not. I scarcely know the man.” She pressed her hands against her lap, willing herself to remain composed at the bold thoughts of a man she had known less than a month.

“That does not matter. Tell me, what did you envision when I said that? Could you picture yourself with Mr. Darcy in the future? Can you imagine having children with him?”

Her sister’s words made Elizabeth’s cheeks burn even hotter. “Stop,” Elizabeth said, causing Charlotte to laugh once more and provoking a fresh wave of colour to rise in Elizabeth’s face—this time out of anger.

“Charlotte, that is inappropriate. As a maiden, I am not even to think of those matters. Never mind that I live in the country and probably am far more aware of these things than the women of the ton . Surely you cannot suppose that Mr. Darcy already thinks of me in that way.”

Charlotte’s face turned more serious. “I am not suggesting anything of the sort. Mr. Darcy is a gentleman and would not dishonour any woman. What I meant is, could you imagine a life with Mr. Darcy? I know you met only a few weeks ago, but you have been frequently in company and had several lengthy conversations with him. The way the two of you interact, it seems inevitable that you would have a future with him.”

“Regardless, I barely know the man,” Elizabeth murmured, her fingers twisting in her skirts as she avoided her sister’s gaze. “While I can like him after a few conversations, I am not yet in love with him, and there is no certainty that I ever would be.” She hesitated, then glanced away, warmth creeping up her neck once again. “He intends to remain in the area for only a few more days, and while I know he has suggested to Jon that I go to town, there are other things to consider. You are putting the cart before the horse, Charlotte.” Her voice grew softer as she ducked her head, the discussion stirring a mixture of confusion and shyness. She did like Darcy very well—perhaps more than she cared to admit—but whether she could like him well enough to marry him, she was not yet certain.

“Perhaps, but perhaps not. Jon will do what he can to get you to London if that is what is necessary to allow you and Mr. Darcy to court and to deepen your friendship,” Charlotte reiterated.

Elizabeth sighed. “Thank you, Charlotte. I know you have my best interests at heart.”

Charlotte seemed pacified by that and moved to help button Elizabeth into a fresh gown. Not too many minutes later, they were descending the stairs and settling into the drawing room where tea awaited them.

As Charlotte poured tea for each of them, their conversation shifted to household topics. Elizabeth shared what she noticed at the tenant’s house she had visited, and she spoke of her plans to visit others in the next several days. Charlotte also mentioned the invitation for dinner she had issued to her parents, and they briefly spoke of the menu.

Despite this, Mr. Darcy continued to linger in Elizabeth’s thoughts. No matter how many times she shook her head in an attempt to clear it, the enigmatic man kept invading her mind.

The quiet moments were disrupted by the sound of the front door closing, followed by the familiar voice of the master of Longbourn. “Good afternoon, ladies,” Bennet called, striding into the room with his usual energy. He was followed closely by Mr. Darcy, who echoed the greeting in his measured tone.

Elizabeth felt a flutter of nerves but quickly masked it with a polite smile, echoing the others in returning the greetings. She could not quite meet Darcy’s gaze though she was acutely aware of his presence in the room.

“Charlotte,” Bennet began, turning to his wife, “what night did you invite your family for dinner? Darcy intends to remain with us until Monday, but after that, he plans to return to London for a time. I am working to persuade him to join us again once his business there is settled and have suggested that his sister might enjoy spending time among young ladies of her own age.”

Elizabeth’s attention sharpened at the mention of Miss Darcy. She had heard only a little of the young lady and was curious to meet her. Darcy’s expression remained inscrutable, but she thought she detected a flicker of something in his eyes—approval, perhaps?

Charlotte nodded thoughtfully. “I had intended to invite them for Friday evening. Would that suit your plans, Mr. Darcy?”

“That would be agreeable,” Darcy replied, his voice as calm as ever. “My sister is presently at home with my great-aunt, but I believe she would find the company here refreshing. Since leaving school—actually, even at school—she has struggled to make friends, but, here, I hope she might do well in the company of so many young ladies. I will write to her to see what she thinks of coming here for a visit, but I am afraid it would be several months before it could be managed.” He was worried that his sister was still in poor spirits and was not certain that whatever his great-aunt had planned had helped her so far. He had received a letter from her just yesterday, and she still appeared to be overcome by her melancholy.

Elizabeth could not help but notice that, despite his calm facade, there was more to what Darcy was saying than his words seemed to reveal. She could not explain it since it was more of a feeling rather than anything specific. Briefly, she considered asking him, but then she realised that it was likely not a topic he would want discussed openly. Instead, she resolved to ask him the next time they had the opportunity for private conversation.

Upon returning from Lucas Lodge that afternoon, Kitty headed upstairs to her room while Mary went directly to her brother’s study and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” Bennet called, and he was surprised when his middle sister stepped inside.

“Mary, what can I do for you?” he asked.

It was then that she noticed Mr. Darcy sitting in the room as well. “Forgive me, sir,” she said, almost retreating from the door. “I did not realise you were here.”

“That is quite all right, Miss Mary. Would you like me to depart so that you may speak with your brother?” he asked kindly.

“No, sir,” Mary replied, her voice strengthening as she attempted to bolster her courage. “In fact, what I have to say concerns you as well. It is probably best that you hear it directly from me, as I am certain my brother would tell you of it anyway.

“Last evening at Lucas Lodge, I overheard Miss Bingley and her brother speaking about you, Mr. Darcy. Miss Bingley sounded like a spoiled child; her manner of speaking reminded me of how Mama often spoke to Papa. When Mama wanted something and Papa did not give it to her immediately, she would grow ever more strident in her demands until Papa eventually gave in and did whatever she wanted. Mr. Bingley treats his sister in much the same manner—Miss Bingley demands something, and if it is at all possible, her brother will give in.”

“What is it that Miss Bingley demanded from her brother, Mary?” Jonathan asked, uncertain of what she was trying to communicate.

“Mr. Darcy,” Mary said simply. At the startled looks from both gentlemen, she continued. “Miss Bingley was demanding that her brother ensure you marry her, sir. Although they mentioned the possibility of a compromise and appealing to your honour, I do not know if either of them would truly be willing to force you into marriage. However, Mr. Bingley appears unable—or perhaps unwilling—to refuse his sister. He is not a very strong man, is he?”

Despite the serious topic, Darcy let out a quiet chuckle. “I believe you are right, Miss Mary. Mr. Bingley is not a very strong man—at least, not when it comes to his sister.”

He turned to his host before he continued. “Miss Bingley appeared quite put out for most of the evening last night. She spoke to me both before and after the meal and attempted to draw me away from Miss Elizabeth. I saw her speaking to her sister at the beginning of dinner, but whatever Mrs. Hurst said must have upset her, for she did not speak to either her sister or brother-in-law for the rest of the meal. It seems that what your sister has told us confirms what I said to you earlier, Bennet—I do not think Bingley spilling his punch on Miss Elizabeth was an accident.

“I am now even more certain that he did it deliberately in an effort to separate me from your family. That must also be why the door was locked last evening—and it would explain even more of their reasoning, though clearly, locking me out of their house would do little to assist Miss Bingley’s efforts. But she is the sort to cut off her nose to spite her face when in a pique.”

Despite Elizabeth’s intention to speak to Mr. Darcy about his sister, the opportunity did not arise over the course of the next several days. While they had a number of opportunities to talk, there was always someone nearby to chaperone. Bennet had ensured his footmen and maids would be vigilant while the couple remained indoors, and several rainstorms kept them from escaping to the gardens or further afield.

On Friday, the day of the intended dinner party, two strange events occurred in quick succession. First, Bennet received a letter from a distant cousin who appeared to be inviting himself to Longbourn. The writer, William Collins, was quite pleased to have recently secured a comfortable living, having been ordained at Easter that year after reaching the age of four and twenty not long before. Acting on the advice of his patroness, he now intended to visit Longbourn with the goal of finding a wife.

Although the entail had been broken with Jonathan Bennet’s birth and the necessary documents signed when the current master reached his majority, Collins implied in his letter that he was owed something for not contesting the entail’s termination. At the time, Collins had been only ten years old, and neither he nor his father would have had any legal standing to object. Yet, these facts seemed irrelevant to the presumptuous letter writer.

To make matters worse, the letter disclosed Collins’s intention to arrive without giving its recipient any opportunity to object. It appeared to have been posted just before his departure, as he arrived at Longbourn scarcely half an hour after the letter was read. His arrival was the second peculiar event of the day, as it became evident that he had been in contact with the estate’s former mistress. She had suggested that marrying her husband’s daughter, Elizabeth, would be sufficient compensation for his losing any claim to inherit Longbourn.

The rector appeared to consider it his right to be accommodated in a guest room on the estate and declared that no formal invitation should have been necessary. During his meeting with the master, he repeated several times that “the estate ought to have been mine” had the late Mr. Bennet not fathered a son. He also treated his supposed engagement to Miss Elizabeth Bennet as a foregone conclusion. Although he had only glimpsed her briefly before being escorted into the master’s study, he declared her lovely and her figure pleasing—remarks he repeated to his host far too often for the comfort of the lady’s brother.

Darcy inadvertently interrupted this interview, having been unaware of the arrival of the unwanted guest. “Oh, forgive me, Bennet, I did not realise that you were occupied. I will return later,” Darcy said upon knocking and gaining entry to the room.

“No, Darcy, your interruption is timely. This is Mr. Collins, a distant cousin, who would have inherited the estate had I not been born,” Bennet said, struggling to contain his frustration with the fool in front of him.

“Darcy?” Collins cried. “Surely you are not Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire? But it must be you, for Darcy is not a common name according to my patroness. I have the great pleasure of meeting you, sir, and feel confident that you will be equally pleased to know me.” This last was said as the stout man struggled to stand to his feet, his considerable bulk making it difficult for him to rise quickly.

“Why would I be pleased to know you? Who exactly are you?” Darcy said haughtily, suspecting the man’s identity and inwardly cringing should it prove true.

“Why, I am William Collins, and I am the rector at Hunsford Parish in Kent, having been granted the living by your aunt, the noble and gracious Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I am pleased to inform you that your aunt and her daughter were very well just yesterday when I last saw them, and if she knew you would be here, I feel certain she would have sent her greetings. I will do so on her behalf now, since I am positive that she would not have hesitated to do so, had she known of your residence in the vicinity. She speaks often of your next visit, for she has informed me that she will soon be delighted to have me begin reading the banns for your marriage to her daughter—the lovely and delicate Anne de Bourgh, who has no equal in beauty or grace throughout the kingdom,” Collins gushed, barely stopping to draw breath.

“You are promised to your cousin?” Elizabeth said from the door. She had been sent by Charlotte to summon her brother for tea and to provide an excuse for him to send their guest away if it were necessary. In his surprise at seeing the man within, Darcy had not shut the door completely, and Elizabeth had heard much of Collins’s speech.

“Are you my lovely betrothed?” Collins asked. “I was most delighted when your mother informed me of your acceptance of my offer of marriage. It is only right, you know, that I receive your hand in marriage since your brother took the estate which should have been mine.”

These words set off another round of gasps, for this was the first mention of any proposed engagement. Elizabeth was the first to gain her senses. “My mother has been dead these nineteen years and could not have promised me in marriage to you. I am not engaged to anyone, and no offer of marriage has been put before me. You presume too much, sir,” Elizabeth said, her voice cold and irritated.

Her words seemed to help both Darcy and Bennet regain their composure. They began speaking at once, but Darcy motioned for Bennet to go first.

“As a rector, you ought to know that only a man—a father, brother, or uncle—can grant a woman’s hand in marriage. Since I have heard of no offer of marriage made to my sister, there is no engagement. I certainly would not give you my sister simply because you feel entitled to compensation for not inheriting an estate that no man in your family has lived on for more than a hundred years. Given your presumption, I find myself even less comfortable with the idea of your staying here than I was before. I will arrange for you to stay at the inn in Meryton for one night, and tomorrow, you may return to Kent. I strongly advise you not to attempt to return to Longbourn unless you receive an explicit invitation from either myself or my wife.

“As for your mention of Elizabeth’s mother, I presume you have somehow been in contact with Mrs. Fanny Bennet who is my stepmother and Elizabeth’s as well. She has no authority to invite anyone to Longbourn, as she has not been mistress here for over a year. Furthermore, she cannot make promises on my or my sister’s behalf.”

As Bennet finished speaking, Darcy interjected. “Likewise, you should not speak on matters of which you know nothing—specifically, the supposed engagement between me and my cousin. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Lady Catherine persists in her claims of a ‘cradle betrothal’ between Anne and me. She insists that she and my mother made plans when Anne and I were infants. However, my own mother denied those claims, and my father explicitly refused to sign any contract to that effect. He instructed me to marry someone of my choosing, and Anne has never been my choice. Nor am I hers. Yet Lady Catherine simply refuses to heed any opinion that contradicts her own.”

Collins spluttered in affront at three direct contradictions to his ideas. “You cannot…I have come from Kent…my father said Longbourn…” He could not complete any of these thoughts and seemed to bounce from idea to idea without knowing how to address any one.

“I will have a groom harness a wagon to take you and your trunk into Meryton. As I said before, you should wait until you are invited to a place before presuming to arrive,” Bennet said.

With that, Bennet escorted the man from his study and led him to the stables, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy momentarily alone in the study.

“Despite my aunt’s efforts, I have no intention of ever marrying my cousin,” Darcy said quietly. “Anne and I have spoken of her mother’s claims, and neither of us wish it. In truth, I have never considered marriage to anyone, at least—” he paused, uncertain of whether he ought to continue. “In the last few weeks, I have begun to contemplate marriage more seriously than ever before.”

Elizabeth’s cheeks heated at his words. “I cannot imagine any circumstances where I would consider my cousin either. I hesitate to speak poorly of anyone, but I have rarely seen a bigger fool than that man. Imagine the audacity of inviting yourself to another’s home and claiming a woman as your bride because your family was disinherited three or four generations before. He blames my brother for having been born as the reason he will not inherit.” She shook her head as she spoke, still in amazement at what had transpired in the last few minutes.

“Elizabeth,” Darcy said, and then felt his own cheeks heat as he realised what he said. “Forgive me, I have no right to address you so, Miss Elizabeth. I simply wanted to say that I have enjoyed coming to know you a little better over the last several days, and I hope that I will see you again soon. Did your brother write to your aunt and uncle in town to ask if you could visit?”

“I received a letter from my aunt this morning,” Elizabeth said, her tone saddened. “One of the children is ill, and she is uncertain about a visit this autumn. She indicated that the spring would be better.”

Darcy frowned at this news. He could not remain in the area much longer. So far, the Bingleys seemed unaware that he had not yet returned to London, but that was unlikely to remain the case for long. Between them and Mrs. Fanny Bennet, he feared that courting his host’s sister while staying under the same roof could give gossips reason to question the propriety of their relationship. He had hoped she would come to London, but that now seemed unlikely.

“I will speak to your brother then, Miss Elizabeth, to see what might be arranged. I would prefer to come to know you better and would not like either of us to be forced to make a decision we are not prepared for,” Darcy said, and Elizabeth could only nod.