Page 19 of The Heroic Mr Darcy’s Bad Manners
The next morning.
Elizabeth looked in the mirror and was pleased with her new royal-blue riding habit. She donned an embroidered spencer over it, trimmed and finished after the fashion of a uniform, and a little grey fur stable-cap with a blue band. She had dressed warmly but was glad the sun was shining and it was not too frightfully cold.
“You look lovely!”
Jane stood in the doorway, impatient to depart.
“Have the gentlemen arrived?”
“Yes, they are waiting in the blue parlour. Make haste, Lizzy. You look beautiful and need no further embellishment.”
“I suppose I should thank you, and I would, if I did not suspect you are prevaricating in order to greet your suitors more speedily.”
Jane just smiled and waved her sister along.
The gentlemen, in their eagerness, had moved to the entrance hall to wait for them. Mr Bingley, the colonel, and the viscount all competed to gain Jane’s attention whilst Mr Darcy stayed in the background, scowling as usual. Why had he come if it was only to be displeased? Or had he joined his cousins in vying for Jane’s attention?
Dear lord! I hope it is not so… He would eventually find a lady to court and marry, but it was to be hoped it would be someone she did not need to encounter.
She supposed she should count her blessings instead of borrowing tomorrow’s sorrows. After all, Miss Bingley had not joined them.
Lord Limerick owned a small selection of riding horses. Jane, who was the better horsewoman, rode a stallion, while Elizabeth was riding her grandmother’s docile mare.
Instead of turning right towards Hyde Park, the colonel led them in the direction of St James’s Park.
They had ridden but a few hundred yards when Elizabeth’s horse turned abruptly, and no pulling on the reins could persuade the beast to change her course. Elizabeth prepared herself for an early arrival back at Limerick House when pounding hoofs approached from behind. She said a quick prayer and hoped that the cantering horse would not spur her mare into a race. She sat comfortably while the horse walked, but her confidence in her abilities did not stretch to a full gallop.
The high and mighty Mr Darcy rode up beside her and thankfully slowed his pace.
“Pray, have I blundered and offended you in some manner? If so, I swear it was not by intention,” Mr Darcy enquired contritely.
“I assure you, you have not offended me,” she promised. “Of late,” she added as an afterthought.
“Then what is the matter? You turned so abruptly, I assumed…”
“Oh, nothing is the matter,” Elizabeth replied innocently. “Nothing whatsoever, only she apparently preferred to walk this way.” She gestured to her horse.
Mr Darcy laughed heartily. It was a deep, resonating sound that was quite pleasant, Elizabeth mused.
“I beg your pardon, madam. It was ungentlemanly of me to laugh at you.”
“Think nothing of it. For what do we live for but to make sport for our acquaintances and laugh at them in return?” Elizabeth smiled wryly, but Mr Darcy still carried a look of concern about his countenance.
“Do you require any assistance?” he probed.
“Yes, if you do not mind. I would like to join the rest of our party. Poor Jane. I have left her quite alone with her zealous suitors.”
Mr Darcy grabbed the reins and expertly turned the obstinate animal in the right direction.
“Thank you, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth whispered whilst clutching the pommel. She expected the beast to oppose his heavy-handedness, but the mare followed obediently. “How do you do it?” she questioned, abashed. It was not an everyday occurrence that she needed assistance from a gentleman.
“You must be assertive and not allow the horse to determine in which direction it should turn.”
“You make it sound so easy, but in my limited experience, it is not that simple.” Her fright with the Lambton beast had left her timid of the giant animals, and she had only recently allowed her father to teach her to ride.
“Are you afraid of the horse, Lady Elizabeth?”
“Not at all,” she replied with a confidence that was unfounded. “Or, perhaps a very little,” she hastened to admit lest her boast induce him to let go of the reins. He must think her cowardly, and she glanced at him, but he wore a warm smile for which she could not account.
“May I be so bold as to recommend one of Lady Jane’s suitors?”
“Yes, you may.” Elizabeth was curious whom he would advocate; whether it would be his friend or his exalted relation.
“Although all three are good men in essentials, I value Colonel Fitzwilliam above the rest.”
Elizabeth was surprised; he was the last she expected him to recommend, though she agreed to a certain extent. He was the best man but also the one who had the most to gain. Mr Bingley was wealthy, and the viscount would be a peer. Lord Crawford would one day be as rich as Croesus. According to an article in a newspaper she had recently read, the Matlock estate, including the mines, yielded sixty-eight thousand pounds a year. Though a pittance compared to the Duke of Devonshire’s one-hundred-and-eighty thousand pounds, Elizabeth surmised the colonel most likely received a generous allowance from his father but still needed an occupation to support him.
“I surmise from your expression that you have reservations,” Mr Darcy said.
“Not reservations per se, only a mild concern that he has the most to gain,” Elizabeth admitted with brutal honesty.
“The colonel is not mercenary,” Mr Darcy refuted with feeling.
“I am not accusing him, but one cannot be too careful when choosing one’s life partner. I simply wish the best for my sister. I imagine you desire nothing less for Miss Darcy than a marriage of true affection?”
Mr Darcy nodded his assent.
“In all fairness, I suppose no gentleman is without flaws. Mr Bingley has proved to be capricious, and he certainly has questionable connections.”
“I cannot deny that Mr Bingley is changeable and impetuous. To yield too easily to one’s whims must necessarily leave important business undone and could be of no advantage to oneself or anyone else. Yet I would have thought considering your relationship with Mr Gardiner you would not hold his roots in trade against him,” Mr Darcy remarked.
Elizabeth noted with some surprise that Mr Darcy had said little in defence of his friend, but he had made one wrong assumption.
“I was not speaking about his father. I was thinking about his insincere sister.”
Mr Darcy looked surprised, but she was not finished.
“I am also concerned about the friends he surrounds himself with in town. I am certain you know of whom I speak since we were both at the theatre, so I shall not debase myself by mentioning any names.”
“There is no need. I quite understand and can only agree with you. In his defence, on the night in question he was not surrounded by his usual friends. He had recently become acquainted with the Duke of Argyll, who I suspect has led him astray. It was the duke’s friends and not Bingley’s whom you saw at the theatre. I suppose Bingley’s ignorance does not speak in his favour, but I am more intrigued by what you hold against Viscount Crawford.”
Elizabeth was relieved to hear that Mr Bingley was not debauched but simply a bit na?ve. He was more than commonly anxious to please and yielded too easily to persuasion, which were traits she was beginning to think less commendable than she had once believed. She felt less compassion towards the glib viscount.
“He is frivolous and lies convincingly, which are not traits one would wish for in a husband.”
“I am not convinced Crawford’s interest in Lady Jane is genuine. The viscount likes to meddle in people’s affairs and may have invited himself to thwart Bingley in an effort to aid his brother. And me,” Mr Darcy added sotto voce .
Elizabeth drew a sharp intake of breath. Mr Darcy had not gainsaid her, which spoke volumes, but had his last barely audible admission been for Jane or herself? Let me first see how he behaves, she said to herself. It will then be early enough for expectations…
They reached their party, and nothing more could be spoken about the topic of Jane’s suitors.
A few minutes of silence followed before the colonel exclaimed, “Here is my barracks!” He pointed to a neat and compact piece of architecture that appeared to greatest advantage when viewed at a distance. “I have forgotten something. Would you mind very much if I fetched it? I promise I shall not be long.”
“I have never seen a barracks.” Jane stretched her neck to peer inside.
“If you allow it, I would be honoured to give you a short tour of the premises,” the colonel offered.
“I would be delighted.” Jane smiled and allowed the colonel to lift her to the ground, which induced a scowl from Mr Bingley.
“We could make a party of it, if the rest of you would like to follow,” the colonel suggested.
“I just saw General Wellesley move towards the Admiralty. Would you like an introduction, Mr Bingley?” the viscount suggested.
“To the famous general? I certainly would, sir,” Mr Bingley agreed eagerly, Jane momentarily forgotten.
“I doubt it was Wellesley because he has been in Portugal since 1810,” the colonel drawled.
“Exactly! He must just have returned!” the viscount eagerly exclaimed.
Mr Bingley and the viscount disappeared round the corner whilst Elizabeth looked longingly at the gate. She was curious and would not mind a glimpse into the strange and, to her, mysterious life of a soldier.
“If you want to accept, allow me to aid you from your horse,” Mr Darcy spoke from below. He had dismounted, tethered his horse, and come to be of assistance. “There is no mounting block here.”
“Yes, I would like that very much,” Elizabeth agreed.
“Do you permit me to put my hands upon your waist and aid you to the ground?” Mr Darcy enquired ever so politely.
Elizabeth nodded and relished the large and comfortable hands that enveloped her and brought her safely down from her perched position.
“Thank you,” she breathed but dared not meet his eyes. If she had, he might correctly assume how affected she was by the small gesture. Instead, she hastened after her sister and left it to Mr Darcy to tie up her horse. Jane had disappeared, but in the yard, a sergeant was teaching a sword exercise to a group of new recruits. It was entertaining, and Elizabeth watched in awe.
“Pay attention! Draw your swords by taking a firm grip on the hilt. At the same time, throw the sheath smartly backwards like this.” The sergeant showed the ensigns how it was done, but not one managed to imitate him, and they all appeared quite forgetful of his warnings.
“Steady there, Barnstable! You never grip the blade with your fingers, you clod-pate.”
The solemn-looking sergeant had his ensigns drawing their swords perfectly ere long. Elizabeth accepted Mr Darcy’s arm and entered the accommodations, where Jane was inspecting Colonel Fitzwilliam’s unimpressive room from the threshold. It was square with a large trunk, a cot, a small desk, and nothing else. She had imagined that a colonel’s quarters would have been better furnished. The colonel used Jane’s distraction to withdraw something from his trunk, small enough to be concealed in his hand, and he hid it in his pocket before Elizabeth could see what it was.
“You must excuse the poor conditions. I do not sleep here very often,” the colonel explained.
“No. Usually I find him in my study sipping my best port.” Mr Darcy grinned, surprising Elizabeth with his wry comment.
“I am simply doing my duty to my ward,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied, unperturbed.
“You must show me where in my father’s will it says, must drink copious amounts of Darcy’s port . I missed that paragraph,” Mr Darcy drawled.
“Certainly. If you lend me a quill, ink, your father’s will, and five minutes alone with all three items, it can be arranged.”
Mr Darcy smiled. “We are happy to have you, even if you empty my wine cellar. We are quite dull when it is just my taciturn self and my reserved sister.”
“It must be blissfully quiet,” Jane remarked.
The colonel looked askance at her, and Jane could not keep a straight face. She giggled, and the colonel erupted in a wide grin.
Had he believed Jane to be deprived of humour? If so, he was in for a shocking surprise because Jane could be just as wry and witty as Elizabeth, though she only displayed it to those she was particularly familiar with, which showed her marked preference for the colonel, who was neither handsome nor plain. Remarkable, Elizabeth decided was the best term to describe him, and most certainly a gentleman. She could not fault his impeccable manners.
“What is taking you so long?” Mr Bingley had come to find his wayward lady, and the viscount followed at a leisurely pace.
“Did you meet the general?” Elizabeth enquired.
“No.” Mr Bingley sighed dejectedly. “He was already gone when we turned the corner.”
“Shall we proceed to the park?” the colonel suggested. “Leave the horses,” he commanded. “It is not far.” He hastened to offer Jane his arm before any of the other gentlemen had the opportunity to do so, and Elizabeth followed quickly behind before anyone had the time to offer her the same.
“Far to what?” Mr Bingley asked. “Have you not noticed that the ground is covered in snow?”
“I have arranged a little surprise for the ladies,” the colonel said but could not be cajoled into telling them what it was.
They proceeded the short distance to St James’s Park, which lay directly behind the Horse Guards’ barracks. The snow- and frost-covered park sparkled in the sun, creating the perfect backdrop for romance. A group of recruits marched a path through the snow so that the ladies’ boots would not suffer the wetness. A tent had been erected by a small copse of trees, probably to allow some privacy from the hundreds of people gathered in the park, and it was thither that the colonel escorted them.
Inside the tent, three sleighs fully equipped with furs and blankets stood in a row, and three footmen were ready to serve them from overflowing baskets.
Elizabeth was impressed by the colonel’s clever and inventive efforts.
“A picnic!” Jane exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy.
“In the dead of winter,” Mr Bingley muttered disapprovingly.
“I cannot take all the credit,” Colonel Fitzwilliam demurred.
“Yes, you can,” Mr Darcy insisted.
“Not entirely on his own,” the viscount refuted. “I suppose you had something to do with it, Darcy? Do not try to deny it because I recognise your footmen.”
“I have no wish to deny it,” Mr Darcy stated firmly. “I have simply provided what my cousin wished.”
With all eyes on Mr Darcy, the colonel used the gentlemen’s distraction to hand Jane into the first sleigh and secure a seat beside her.
“We had better take a seat close to Lady Jane,” the viscount prompted Mr Bingley.
That spurred the other gentleman to haul himself into the second sleigh, and the viscount quickly followed. Which left Elizabeth and Mr Darcy with no choice but to share the third.
The gentleman pulled back the blankets and handed Elizabeth into the sleigh. She was happy to find heated bricks to tuck under her cold feet and sheepskin on the seat. She clandestinely regarded Mr Darcy whilst he seated himself. She could detect no vexation in his expression. His lips curled into a ghost of a smile that belied any regrets at being deprived of Jane’s company. Quite the contrary, his countenance was one of marked pleasure. It made her believe that he thought better of her than he had done in Hertfordshire, which in turn sent a frisson down her spine. He is solicitous because you are now a lady , she reminded herself.
“I did not know the colonel was such a romantic,” Elizabeth remarked to distract herself while Mr Darcy tucked the blankets firmly around them. He was particularly diligent in securing her blanket; no draught could be felt when he was finished, and the warmth of the fur relieved the tension in her taut muscles.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam certainly is a romantic at heart, though he is not prone to ridiculous displays.” Mr Darcy, quite unnecessarily, defended his cousin when he was satisfied with her comfort.
“Would you deem this a ridiculous display?” she enquired incredulously.
“No, you misunderstand me. He would never act to embarrass or injure but would gladly provide those small gestures that ladies enjoy. In that I have much to learn,” he admitted with chagrin. “See.” He nodded almost imperceptibly towards the colonel and Jane. Colonel Fitzwilliam pulled a pair of hairpins decorated with a single pink flower from his pocket. He offered them to Jane, who secured the ringlets framing her face to prohibit any loose strands from ending up in her food. If you stretched your imagination, the flowers on the pins resembled peonies. The colonel was nothing but thorough, it would seem…
The footmen served them wine before they were offered an assortment of cold meat, bread, cheese, and pies.
“You look particularly well today, Lady Elizabeth. Is that a new riding habit?”
Elizabeth almost choked on a piece of cheese.
“Yes, it is. Thank you!” She regarded him quizzically because his speech sounded rehearsed and his compliment was baffling.
Mr Darcy inhaled and opened his mouth as if to speak. She looked at him expectantly, but no words left his lips. He simply stared at her, and at such close proximity the familiar tug of his allure provoked her to turn her gaze towards the park. Fortunately, the servants had left a wall in the tent open to allow the guests the opportunity to enjoy the magnificent view. The canal was covered with ice skaters, which provided amusing entertainment to those who observed them.
“The frost-covered trees are so beautiful,” she remarked in awe. “I adore how they sparkle in the sun. Everything becomes so light and bright it almost scorches your eyes.”
Mr Darcy swallowed audibly and nodded. Mr Bingley complained about not feeling his toes, to which the viscount added his loud agreement. Jane offered the gentlemen her heated bricks, but the men at least had the sense to decline her generous offer.
“Lady Jane, unfortunately, business will keep me occupied and deny me your lovely company for a most insufferable week, but I would be delighted if you would go for a ride with me on Saturday next?” Mr Bingley asked.
“We should all go,” the viscount interjected.
“My phaeton only seats two.” Mr Bingley smiled. “You may follow in your own conveyance. Lady Jane and I formed an acquaintance when I leased the neighbouring estate to Longbourn last autumn, and business has kept us apart for far too long. We have much to talk about since last we were in each other’s company, at my ball on the twenty-sixth of November.”
It was a clear warning that he wanted Jane for himself, and even Viscount Crawford saw the futility of his endeavour. He conceded the day in Bingley’s favour but not without a jab at the gentleman.
“Business often keeps you occupied, I presume.” The viscount’s smile looked more dangerous than pleasant. “Although I have had the pleasure of seeing you at several social events, and most interestingly at the theatre with the most questionable company.”
Mr Bingley’s face reddened, and he scowled at the viscount, who did not appear the least perturbed.
“I was the Duke of Argyll’s particular guest. Besides, I cannot be expected to seclude myself like a hermit in the evenings, even if business occupies my days.”
“Of course not, but—”
“Crawford!” the colonel roared, and that gentleman wisely closed his mouth.
The viscount looked sheepishly at Jane. “Do not concern yourself, Brother. I would never mention such debauchery in the presence of a lady.”
You just did, Elizabeth thought. But it was a comfort to see Mr Darcy’s glare directed at someone else for a change.
“Crawford! A word if you please. In private.”
The viscount nodded, and it looked as though he had realised his mistake. “May I suggest that we return to our horses? It is becoming rather cold, and I am concerned about the ladies’ comfort.”
“Not yet,” Mr Darcy refuted. “We have one surprise left.” He turned to Elizabeth. “If you would excuse me for just a moment?”
Elizabeth nodded. Mr Darcy leapt elegantly from the sleigh, tucked the pelt he had just vacated firmly about her, and disappeared behind the tent. He returned with three stable hands who each brought a horse. He joined her in the sleigh whilst the horses were put to their equipages. A few minutes later, they pulled abruptly from the tent to circle the canal. Elizabeth was startled by the jolt and grabbed Mr Darcy’s hand.
“I beg your pardon,” she muttered and released it the moment she discovered what she had done. Henceforth her every attention was directed across the canal at the bird-cage walk, which was not open to the public.
“No pardon is necessary,” he allowed.
In truth, the bird-cage walk was not much to look at during the winter, and she turned towards the ice skaters and met Mr Darcy’s bottomless eyes. He was staring at her, as had been his wont in Hertfordshire, and she felt the fingers of a ghost run down her spine.
“It is my turn to beg your pardon. It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable, but your bewitching eyes, glittering in the bright sunlight, robbed me of my faculties,” Mr Darcy admitted, coloured, and turned away.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She was flattered. If only the rest of her face had not been such a disappointment…
They circled the rest of the two-thousand-eight-hundred-foot-long canal in silence before returning to the colonel’s barracks. In truth, she had been thoroughly entertained by the ice skaters’ antics and the view of Mr Darcy’s noble profile. With the romantic backdrop of the frost-covered park, Mr Darcy’s solicitousness, and his improved civilities, her defences had thawed.
When the sleigh drew to a halt, she was not allowed so much as to remove the blankets herself, but Mr Darcy’s gentle administrations took her safely to the ground.
On their return to Limerick House, the viscount and Mr Bingley were quick to take their positions to either side of Jane, effectively blocking anyone who wanted to intrude. Fortunately, the colonel had the sense not to try to squeeze a fourth horse alongside them in the narrow street. Instead, he kept Elizabeth company whilst Mr Darcy brought up the rear of their parade through town.
Elizabeth’s mare was most willing to return to the mews and gave her hardly any trouble but hastened into a trot when they drew near. Elizabeth handled the increased pace tolerably well but for a ribbon she had tied round the curl draped over her shoulder. It was whipped loose and flew elegantly towards the sky. Elizabeth turned and watched Mr Darcy snap it up in mid-air and tuck it into his breast pocket. She quickly forgot the fanciful notion that he might keep it as a token because as she turned her head back to the road in front of her, she almost ran over an errand boy who was crossing the street.
“I beg your pardon,” she called after him, which was all she could do. Her stubborn mare would not stop regardless of how forcefully she pulled on the reins.
Mr Darcy flipped the boy a coin for his trouble. A generous half-crown, judging by the lad’s heartfelt expression of gratitude.
When Elizabeth and Jane entered Limerick House, it was with light hearts after a successful excursion. To be met by an uncommonly stern father in the entrance hall took them by surprise. The gentlemen had been wise to bid their farewells by the mews and were spared encountering the incensed Lord Glentworth, for which both ladies were grateful.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Elizabeth was stunned by the vehemence in her father’s voice, and Jane visibly shrank into herself. Elizabeth could not remember his ire ever to have been raised against Jane, though she herself had not been so fortunate. Which was why she was able to find her voice first.
“I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, sir. We have been on a short ride to St James’s and had a light picnic in the park.”
“With the Matlock heir!” he spat.
“Yes, the viscount has been calling, and I danced with him as early as Lady Cowper’s ball in December,” Elizabeth admitted. “I suppose you must ask your mother because she was the one who introduced me. I know you do not care for the Matlocks, but their sons are amiable gentlemen.”
“Mrs Maeve Bennet!” he bellowed.
Their grandmother came down the stairs at a pace that belied her advanced years. She regarded them one at a time and promptly suggested they should adjourn to the library.
As soon as the door closed behind his mother, Lord Glentworth turned his glare at her.
“You introduced my daughters to the spawn of Matlock,” he accused her.
“I did,” the matron admitted with a calm that infuriated her son.
“Please explain why you would have them consorting with those…those miscreants?”
“Firstly, because the boys were highly recommended by a trusted friend, and secondly, because I do not believe that children should suffer for the sins of a father. Can you not see the irony, dear Thomas? That Matlock’s sons are vying for your daughter’s attention?”
“My children are not pieces in a chess game. This is why I have been so reluctant to come to town. The games of the alleged superior society are exactly what I cannot abide.”
“It is not a game, Papa.”
Elizabeth was shocked that Jane had dared to raise her voice—as was her father it would seem. He was staring at his eldest daughter as though she had suddenly grown horns from her head.
“Although they are both amiable and gentlemanlike, Colonel Fitzwilliam is excellent company,” Jane said.
“As a second son, he must be, or does he have an elderly uncle who has left him a fortune?”
“No, I do not believe so. He is an honest and honourable man but not wealthy,” she reiterated in a matter-of-fact manner.
“I thought you admired Mr Bingley,” Lord Glentworth mocked.
Elizabeth’s ire rose, but Jane looked into her father’s eyes, unperturbed.
“Mr Bingley is an agreeable man, but to be deemed excellent one must show steadfastness and resolve. Mr Bingley has proved to be capricious in his esteem and too easily persuaded by his sisters.”
Lord Glentworth eased his rigid stance, and a gleam of mischief shone from his eyes. “I always supposed Lizzy to be the studier of character.”
“We all must apply ourselves in the treacherous waters of society, and occasionally err to become wiser,” Jane replied.
Lord Glentworth bowed to his eldest’s wisdom and allowed his daughters to remove their wet and cold riding habits whilst he conversed loudly with his mother for more than an hour.