Page 26 of To Love And To Cherish (Pride And Prejudice Variation #3)

Darcy sat at the breakfast table, the newspaper neatly folded in his hands, steam rising from the cup of coffee beside him.

He was scanning the society announcements when a particular notice caught his eye.

He murmured aloud, “Well done, Mr. Bennet. Looks like he got his wish. Mr. William Collins is soon to be Mr. William Collins Bennet.”

He allowed himself a rare smile. “The Bennet name survives another generation.”

Just then, Bingley strolled in, whistling, and made straight for the sideboard. He piled his plate generously, flopped into a chair, and began eating with enthusiasm. Darcy, feigning indifference, turned a page.

“I saved Miss Jane Bennet from marriage to Mr. Collins, the rector and heir to Longbourn.”

Bingley froze mid-chew, then began coughing violently. Darcy had to clamp down on his amusement. It was like watching a genteel man try to cough out a hedgehog.

“Bingley,” Darcy said, rising to thump him on the back, “Don’t die. Miss Elizabeth would never forgive me.”

Bingley finally recovered enough to reach for his coffee, but he forgot it was scalding. One sip, and he sprayed the tablecloth, sputtering again. He dabbed at the mess with a napkin while casting Darcy a look of mild betrayal.

“Darcy, what did you say?”

“I said,” Darcy replied mildly, “that Mr. Collins had his sights set on Miss Jane Bennet.”

“You cannot be serious,” Bingley said, horrified. “That, that pompous man?”

Darcy lifted a brow. “The same. He expressed interest over drinks at his welcome dinner. How did you miss it? Though, in fairness, you were likely lost in dreams of Miss Bennet while the rector was detailing his plans for the future.”

Bingley narrowed his eyes. “Why did you not tell me?”

Darcy looked guileless. “I was unaware I needed to. Are you of a mind to marry Miss Bennet?”

Bingley hesitated. “What if I am?”

“Then I should offer you my congratulations,” Darcy said, lowering his paper.

“You cannot find a finer woman in all of England. She is gentle, gracious, and the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen, and not a trace of vanity about her.

It’s as though she has no idea she’s the most angelic creature to grace a ballroom. ”

Bingley nodded, nearly glowing. “Yes! That’s exactly it. She’s an angel. Didn’t I say that to you the very first night I danced with her?”

Darcy mentally groaned, Yes, yes. Along with every other woman you've ever danced with who had symmetrical features and a fine figure.

But aloud, Darcy said, “Now that you mention it, yes. I do recall.”

He also recalled that it was the night he insulted Jane’s sister in front of the entire assembly and received the full force of Elizabeth’s wrath. I r eally must learn to keep my mouth shut.

Bingley leaned forward. “Darcy, I do love Jane. I know it’s been only a few weeks, but the more time I spend with her, the more deeply I fall. And usually, by this point, a beautiful woman starts to show her claws. Or horns. Or worse.”

Darcy grinned. “Claws, horns, and if she’s truly diabolical, teeth.”

Bingley gave a mock shudder. “Precisely!”

“But in truth,” Darcy continued, sobering, “Miss Bennet becomes more admirable the better one knows her. I have only met one other woman of whom I can say the same.”

He caught himself just in time. Elizabeth’s name nearly escaped his lips. When, precisely, had she gone from a bright-eyed girl in muddy petticoats to a woman who haunted his thoughts like a siren in a Grecian myth, drawing hapless gentlemen into her orbit?

Darcy shook himself. He was grateful she had gone to Scotland. The further away she was, the safer his equilibrium. If only his heart would agree to recover accordingly.

“Charles,” he said briskly, “what will it be? Shall you offer for Miss Bennet, or let the heir of Longbourn snatch her away over toast and tea?”

Bingley stared. “Darcy, should I step aside? I mean, I’ve no estate. My wealth is closely tied to trade. I’m still part owner of the wool mill.”

Darcy nearly groaned. Here we go.

"She is the daughter of a gentleman," he said firmly, "and you shall soon possess an estate of your own. Her uncle is in trade, so she is unlikely to look down on your partnership in the wool mill. It does not signify. And if you worry that she brings no dowry, let me assure you, she brings herself. She is the dowry. You will never regret such a match. She comes without claws, horns, wings, or teeth poised to rip your heart out while it is still beating.”

Bingley leaned forward. “You really think so?”

“Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Yes,” Bingley said at once. “That time with the Spanish boots.”

“That was one time.”

“They pinched.”

“They were dashing.”

“They were agony.”

Darcy waved a hand. “Irrelevant. The point stands, Miss Bennet is worth more than any twenty-five-thousand-pound settlement. She is goodness and grace and beauty, and if you do not propose to her soon, Mr. Collins may simply outlast you by sheer persistence.”

Bingley paled. “He sees her at every meal!”

“Indeed. Morning, noon, and night.”

“I must go at once!”

“I thought you might say that. Shall Georgiana and I accompany you? We can distract the family while you find a quiet moment with her.”

“Yes, thank you, but only if you’re ready within ten minutes.”

Darcy looked down at his attire. “I was born ready. Georgiana should be down any moment.”

And indeed, five minutes later, the trio were mounted and riding toward Longbourn, Bingley with fire in his heart, Georgiana with gentle curiosity, and Darcy with a mixture of amusement and a quiet dread that he might one day soon hear that Miss Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, had married someone else.

The three visitors from Netherfield were received at Longbourn not long after ten o’clock, and Mary, having been the only Bennet sister downstairs, took it upon herself to see them comfortably settled with tea. Mrs. Bennet and Jane had not yet descended, owing to the earliness of the hour.

Hill dispatched Alice with instructions to hasten Miss Bennet. The girl hesitated at the foot of the stairs.

“But should I not attend to Mrs. Bennet first and assist her dressing?”

Hill’s response was swift. “That young gentleman did not come to court, Mrs. Bennet. Make haste, Alice, before he changes his mind and returns to Netherfield.”

Presently, Mr. Bennet entered the drawing room with his cousin, the rector.

Polite greetings were exchanged, though Mr. Darcy appeared momentarily unsettled.

He glanced at Bingley, then at the two gentlemen, clearly calculating the danger that the topic of Mr. Collins’s engagement, to Mary, not Jane, might arise.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward and extended his hand.

“May I have a word with you both, in your study, if you please?”

Mr. Bennet looked faintly amused, and Mr. Collins visibly puffed with pride. As Mr. Darcy was not a man to whom Mr. Bennet could comfortably deny a request, he complied at once.

Darcy followed them into the study, uncertain how best to keep the gentlemen from returning to the drawing room, but determined nonetheless. He began with what he hoped would prove a useful fiction.

“Mr. Bennet, I wonder if I might be of assistance in applying to my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, for her approval regarding quarterly visits from your heir. You were speaking of it at dinner the other night, saying it would be advantageous for Mr. William Collins Bennet to spend a week each quarter reviewing the estate ledgers and consulting with the new steward.”

Mr. Bennet was taken aback, then gratified. Before long, the three gentlemen were deeply engaged in discussion. What might have been resolved in five minutes extended to twenty, for Darcy, each time they neared a conclusion, posed a fresh question, effectively forestalling the conversation’s end.

Meanwhile, back in the drawing room, Mary poured tea for Mr. Bingley and Miss Darcy. With polite reserve, she inquired after Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.

“They are well enough,” Bingley said tersely. “Though I confess, I look forward to the day Caroline is married and living somewhere far from me.”

The words were out before he could recall them, and he flushed from collar to hairline.

Mary, unperturbed, smiled. “Do you believe Miss Bingley will take kindly to the notion of a wife usurping her place?”

Bingley blinked. “To tell the truth, Miss Mary, I had not considered it. But now that you mention it, no, Caroline does not easily relinquish authority.”

“Forgive the indelicacy,” Mary said, “but since we are already discussing private matters with great freedom, has your sister ever considered establishing her own household in town? She has a substantial dowry, I believe, and a marked preference for London.”

Bingley sat back, thoughtful. “You astonish me. I’ve never considered it, but it does make sense.

Caroline does adore London, and the Hursts reside there year-round.

She would not lack company. Why should she resist it?

” He was silent for a moment longer, then frowned.

“She overspends, you know. My sister borrows from me each quarter. That will stop. If I am to marry, I must be a better steward.”

Just then, Jane entered the room with Kitty. Miss Darcy immediately rose and took Kitty’s hands.

“Would you walk with me?” she asked eagerly. “I received a letter from my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. He writes of his adventures in Lisbon, and I think you would enjoy it.”

The girls departed, and Bingley turned to Jane. Their eyes met. All doubts he may have harbored vanished in that instant.

“Miss Bennet,” he said softly, “would you walk with me in the garden?”

Her smile deepened, and she stepped toward him. He offered his arm, and she took it. Hill brought Jane her pelisse, gloves, and bonnet, and soon the couple slipped out into the golden warmth of a fine spring morning.

Everything, in Bingley’s view, was an omen.

“Jane,” he said as they reached the rose arbor, “I have been courting you for several weeks now, and with each meeting, you grow more dear to me. Your character is lovelier than even your appearance, which, forgive me, is saying something. I confess, I half-expected to find some fault. But you have been only kind, gracious, and good.”

Jane met his gaze, her eyes shining.

“Miss Bennet… Jane… will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She laughed softly, tears gathering in her lashes. “Yes,” she said, her voice trembling. “Yes.”

Bingley took both her hands. “May I… may I kiss you to seal our promise?”

Still smiling, she nodded, and as she leaned into him, he drew her into his arms and kissed her.

In the study, Darcy could delay no longer. He stood and offered his hand.

“I shall write to my aunt regarding the quarterly visits. For now, I must check on my sister.”

The gentlemen followed him out. In the drawing room, only Mary remained.

“Mr. Bingley asked Jane to walk in the gardens,” she informed her father. “Kitty is out with Miss Darcy, reading a letter from Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“Thank you, Mary,” said Mr. Bennet. “Perhaps Mr. Darcy would care for some tea?”

Darcy declined with a smile. “We have already trespassed upon your morning for some forty-five minutes. Forgive me, sir, I did not intend to linger.”

“Not at all,” said Mr. Bennet. "You are doing me and my estate a great service, sir, by prevailing upon your formidable aunt to permit my heir to visit me here at Longbourn. I only hope she allows it.”

Darcy bowed. “I shall walk out and collect my sister. I daresay Mr. Bingley will prolong his visit, if I understand the motive behind it correctly.”

His expression was dry, and Mr. Bennet chuckled. “You do not say. I was beginning to think he might never come to the point.”

Darcy allowed himself a brief smile. “You may thank your travelling daughter for this, sir. She charged me not to fail in assisting Mr. Bingley. I knew I must act swiftly or else answer to her.”

Mr. Bennet laughed aloud. “Then I shall write and thank her.”

Mary, seated by the window, said nothing.

Her gaze was fixed on the garden, where two young ladies sat in cheerful conversation upon a bench, and farther off, a gentleman bent his head close to dear Jane’s as they walked together in the golden light.

Soon, Jane would be free of their mother’s clutches, and for that, Mary was quietly thankful.