The Honorable Mr. Darcy Read online

  Mr. Denny leaned forward, his eyes darting about. Cupping his hand around his mouth, he said, “I only inform you because I know our friendship with Mr. Wickham is mutual and, since you asked directly, I see no harm in telling you….” He paused, again looking around.

  “Well? What is it?” voiced Lydia, stamping her foot like an impatient filly.

  Elizabeth could not criticize her overmuch. Her skin prickled with anticipation and, if Mr. Denny paused any longer, she did not know if her curiosity could bear it.

  “I will not insult your sensibilities by giving you details, but suffice it to say that if Mr. Wickham chooses not to join us at the Netherfield Ball, it will be the doing of a certain gentleman who is presently residing as a guest there.” He dropped his hand and stood somberly.

  Mr. Darcy. What a dreadful man. It seemed that the more Elizabeth knew of him, the less she could find to like about the gentleman.

  “I am certain there is a reasonable explanation for their manners. If they were to discuss their problems openly, they would soon enough find a satisfactory solution,” said Jane. She was too kind to imply bad motives to anyone.

  Mr. Denny clucked his tongue and shook his head. “I am not so certain. Only minutes ago, I saw Mr. Darcy storm out of Wickham’s tent in a high temper.”

  “We saw that too,” Elizabeth acknowledged.

  “He must feel wretched. A call from us would soon cheer him,” whimpered Lydia, looking longingly toward the tent.

  Before Lydia could arrange a party to visit poor, abused Mr. Wickham in his tent, she added, “We are on our way to the haberdashery to buy some ribbons.”

  “Then, by all means, let me escort you. I am in need of a new buckle and shall be the laughing stock of the regiment if it is not seen to before the entertainments of the evening,” replied Mr. Denny, holding his arm out to Kitty, who gratefully accepted it.

  Lydia glared at Elizabeth, who had yet to loosen her hold.

  The inside of the shop was a menagerie of notions and fripperies. Drawn to a stack of magazines in the corner, Elizabeth left her sisters to look at the snuff boxes, hair clips, silver combs, and various adornments on the glassed shelf. Streams of ribbons hung from the ceiling in a long rainbow of color.

  After a half of an hour, during which Lydia managed to spend everyone’s pin money, as well as her own, they continued to Aunt Philips’ home, leaving a contented Mr. Denny to return to the barracks with his newly acquired buckles.

  Elizabeth noticed how Kitty’s eyes followed his progress down the footpath until he disappeared from their sight.

  “You like Mr. Denny?” asked Elizabeth quietly, falling into step beside her. He seemed like an amiable gentleman, and his friendship with Mr. Wickham could only serve to recommend him.

  Kitty sighed. “He looks handsome in his uniform. Do you think he notices me? It is difficult with Lydia around. She always insists on being the center of attention.” She spoke sincerely, without the bitterness of envy.

  Wrapping her arm around Kitty’s shoulders, Elizabeth said, “Let us first determine Mr. Denny’s character better before you set your heart on him. Or is it already too late?” She hoped not. Having never fallen in love, she would not know how best to help Kitty.

  Kitty’s forehead rumpled in thought. “No, I do not think it is too late. I suppose you are right. I would never want to marry a gentleman who proved to be unkind— although I find it difficult to believe that a gentleman as handsome as Mr. Denny could ever behave in a manner unworthy of an officer.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, breathing deeply in her relief, and moved her arm to wrap it through Kitty’s. “Looks can be deceiving.” Mr. Darcy was perhaps the handsomest gentleman she had been privileged enough to gaze upon, and yet his manners did nothing to recommend him.

  Kitty said, “Life would be much simpler if everyone acted according to their appearance. Unlike Mr. Darcy, for instance.”

  Elizabeth nearly tripped over her feet. She had not spoken aloud, had she? Fortunately for her, Kitty continued, “He is pleasing to the eye, but I could never admire a gentleman who has offended you.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s arm to her side in sisterly support.

  “Maybe he will bald with age,” Elizabeth replied, causing Kitty to cover her mouth and giggle.

  Though she said the words, Elizabeth did not think them possible. Mr. Darcy’s hair was as thick as it was curly. Nor would his teeth fall out. They were as straight and white as pearls strung on a necklace. Bothersome snob. Were he not so disagreeable, she could see herself admiring him a great deal.

  Lost in her contemplations and determining to her chagrin— for it was the height of injustice that a man so beautiful and masculine should also be so unforgivably proud— that Mr. Darcy suffered no physical flaws observable to the eye, Elizabeth followed her sisters to Aunt Philips’ where they were led into the drawing room directly. And just in time. There were better things to ponder than Mr. Darcy’s features.

  Aunt rose to greet them, with her hands reached out to embrace her nieces. “Oh, girls, how fortuitous you should visit me today! I have made a new friend I should very much like for you to meet.”

  A lady with light brown hair pulled away from her face joined Aunt. Her dress was the same unimposing mauve color as Aunt’s carpet. She blended in with the room so well that if she stood still, Elizabeth doubted she would have noticed her. The lady’s only adornment was a warm smile which reached her brown eyes as Aunt introduced them.

  “Mrs. Yeats is looking for a position. Her charge married and there were no other children in the home. She is now, unfortunately, without employment.” Aunt clucked her tongue and shook her head. “There is no loyalty anymore. The home she had known for these many years is denied her in spite of it being her efforts which arranged the daughter’s successful match. It is shocking how some of these highborn families believe themselves above common decency.”

  “I am certain it sounds that way, Mrs. Philips, but I must assure you that I spent several wonderful years with the family, and I am pleased to know their daughter married very well. I only wish I could have been there for the wedding,” said Mrs. Yeats in a soft voice, clasping her hands together uncomfortably.

  “If the subject is disagreeable to Mrs. Yeats, perhaps we might change it,” suggested Jane.

  Mrs. Yeats smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you, Miss Bennet. I am certain your governess can look back on her influence on your delicacy with a good deal of pride.”

  Lydia scoffed. “Governess? We never had one.”

  Confused, Mrs. Yeats asked, “No governess? Then surely you have had a devoted nurse or companion to help guide you?”

  All in the room kept silent except for Lydia, who blurted out, “Not at all. Father felt we did not need one when Jane and Lizzy turned out so well. And with the militia stationed in the village, I am sure to marry soon. I only have yet to choose who best suits me.”

  Mrs. Yeats did a masterful job of controlling her expression, though Elizabeth was certain she must have been shocked. As for Elizabeth, she wanted to groan, cry, and laugh all at the same time.

  As she was about to change to a more pleasant— and much safer— topic, Mrs. Yeats said, “I will admit to my ignorance then. Your father must hold to more modern views of which I am unaware, having only lived in one household.”

  “You are very kind, Mrs. Yeats,” said Elizabeth, pleased how the woman had glossed over her father’s oversight in their education.

  This was the kind of companion her sisters needed. One look at Jane told her that she agreed. “Aunt said you are currently seeking a position?” she asked, trying to sound more helpful than desperate.

  “I am. I only arrived to Meryton two days ago, and I do not have any acquaintances outside your kind aunt and the innkeeper. My hope is to find a position with a family who spends most of their time in the country. I have no desire to return to town. I could not bear to see my young miss, and that is precisely what would happen were I to
accept any of the other offers from amongst her circle.”

  It was perfect! If Elizabeth could convince Aunt Philips to help them, Aunt would persuade Mother of their need for assistance with her youngest daughters. Mother would not let up on the subject until she made Father so miserable he would agree to the scheme, or else risk suffering from another bout of Mother’s nerves.

  Looking between Aunt Philips and Mrs. Yeats, she said, “I am sorry it is a painful memory to you, but your ability to assist your previous charge make an advantageous marriage highly recommends you. You did say she married very well, if I am not mistaken?” Elizabeth asked. Mothers of unmarried ladies would seek out a governess known to have had any part in a successful match, no matter how loyal they may be to the family for which she formerly worked.

  Mrs. Yeats blushed and lowered her voice, “I should say so, though I cannot take all of the credit for it. While it was I who arranged for them to meet, it was the charming qualities my dear, young miss displayed which won over the earl.”

  That got Aunt’s attention and exceeded Elizabeth’s hopes for a favorable answer. “An earl? She married into a title? That is high praise indeed for one in your position. You should have no trouble at all securing a place.”

  Apparently, Elizabeth had not made her hint obvious enough.

  A shadow passed over Mrs. Yeats’ face. “It would be if only it could be known. I have not been allowed an audience with the family, and they have yet to answer my letters. I do not understand it.” She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “I apologize. It is not proper for me to burden you with my troubles, nor just of me to speak anything but kind things toward my young miss. They really were very good to me.”

  Jane, in her tender voice said, “I am certain it is all one unfortunate misunderstanding.”

  Mrs. Yeats’ eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she looked up at Jane. “Thank you, Miss Bennet. I take great comfort in that thought. It has occurred to me that in the chaos of the wedding, I was simply overlooked.”

  Aunt tapped her fingers against the cushion of her armchair. “Miss Stallard, our magistrate’s daughter, is the only lady who comes to mind, but she has a companion. A young, widowed cousin left without twopence to her name… Hardly appropriate if rumors are to be believed…”

  With her gaze fixed firmly on her aunt, Elizabeth said more pointedly, “That hardly helps Mrs. Yeats. She needs to begin life anew with a family who will treat her kindly. All we need to do is find a place with a family with an unmarried daughter. Or several….” Addressing Mrs. Yeats, she explained, “The difficulty you may encounter here would be to find a position with only one daughter. Unlike the Stallards, most of our families are quite large, and some have several daughters out.”

  Aunt Philips’ expression underwent the most delightful change as she finally realized what Elizabeth had taken great pains to make obvious to her.

  Mrs. Yeats said, “That would be no trouble to me. I would rather keep my mind occupied by staying busy.”

  Aunt clapped her hands. “I have had the most splendid idea! What if we could convince Mr. Bennet to take on Mrs. Yeats?”

  Elizabeth tried not to look too excited. “Father has not agreed to any such arrangement before, I am sorry to say,” she said to deepen Aunt’s support.

  Aunt Philips waved her hand in the air. “You leave it to me and your mother. Mark my words, Mrs. Yeats, you will soon have a place in a household with five unmarried daughters!”

  Mrs. Yeats did not look in the least bit overwhelmed. “If what you say can truly come to pass, I would be eternally grateful.”

  “Good! We will leave for Longbourn immediately.” Aunt called for her carriage, not wasting any time.

  “Well done, Lizzy,” whispered Jane as they clambered down the road. “I daresay this plan will work.”

  Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s hand. “I do hope so for your sake, Jane. With Mrs. Yeats to check Lydia and provide what is proper for our sisters’ education in society, an attachment with a respectable gentleman is much more likely to occur.” She dare not presume to say that an attachment to Mr. Bingley was infinitely more possible, but Elizabeth could not prevent herself from thinking it. She would count how many times Mr. Bingley danced with Jane at the ball at Netherfield that evening.

  As for herself, she would dance and enjoy herself in the knowledge that Jane’s chances were vastly improved with Mr. Bingley. She would also take a stand for justice on behalf of the unfortunate and afflicted by refusing Mr. Darcy if he dared ask her to dance.

  Chapter 3

  The evening was all wrong. Why Elizabeth had believed that the simple act of hiring Mrs. Yeats would cause her mother and sisters to behave with more decorum had been a serious breach in her reasoning.

  Father had sent their carriage to collect Mrs. Yeats’ things from the inn, but by the time she had returned, she was fatigued and it was too late for her to ready herself to join them at the Netherfield Ball. More was the pity. Of course, Mrs. Yeats would need to settle in at Longbourn before she could give her full attention to their deficiencies— deficiencies which were painfully blatant that evening.

  Mother bragged too openly of Jane’s imminent engagement to Mr. Bingley. It did not perturb her at all when Elizabeth reminded her that the gentleman had yet to ask.

  Mr. Collins, on hearing Mother’s implication that Jane was soon to be engaged, had redirected his amorous attentions to Elizabeth. He followed her everywhere and made his presence a tiresome bother she could not shake. Like a burr on a wool stocking.

  Mary, who did wish to receive the attentions of their clerical cousin, had determined to show off her self-taught musical accomplishments in the drawing room where the pianoforte sat. Elizabeth did not venture to enter that room so that she would be spared the cacophony her well-intentioned sister would produce from the instrument. Just the thought of the pounding keys made Elizabeth pinch the back of her neck.

  Lydia and Kitty, contrary to her warnings that they behave as proper ladies ought to, flirted with the regimental officers in such a way as to cause the gossips to whisper behind their fans. To be fair, Kitty directed her attention entirely to Mr. Denny, and the couple seemed oblivious to anyone outside their enamored bubble. The attention Mr. Denny bestowed upon Kitty only made Lydia laugh louder and hold her pointy chin at the best angle to elongate her neck and draw attention to her shoulders.

  Mr. Wickham had not made an appearance, and at that late hour, he was unlikely to do so. No doubt, as Mr. Denny had suggested, it had something to do with Mr. Darcy. The insolent man.

  To make matters worse, Mr. Darcy had cast his sight in her direction several times during the night, and Elizabeth feared he would ask her to dance. While he would make a graceful partner, and she dearly loved to dance, what in heaven’s creation would they find to discuss which would not lead to him discovering yet another fault in her or her family’s character? She was not intimidated by him, but she would not make it easy for him to criticize her and those whom she held dear. Not if she could prevent it. Besides, she had decided she would not dance with him. It went against her sense of integrity to those whom he had oppressed.

  So she had avoided him, feeling very much like a mouse pursued by a cat as the evening wore on.

  Elizabeth’s heartbeat pounded in her ears, and the pressure at the base of her neck grew unbearable. She smiled and nodded when addressed, but she felt as if she stood in the middle of a bee hive. She needed fresh air. However, it was late, and she did not want to separate Jane from Mr. Bingley merely to ask if she would accompany her out of doors in the cold night air.

  Weaving her way through the crowd in the ballroom and out to the entry hall where a group of people had gathered, she saw Mr. Collins bump clumsily into Miss Stallard. The glass of ratafia she held emptied its burgundy liquid down the front of her cream silk gown, staining the ornate embroidery in its descent. A shriek being imminent, especially when Mr. Collins reached out to her bodice with a handkerc
hief in his hand, Elizabeth gritted her teeth and continued down the hall and past the stairs.

  Wall sconces lit her way to the library. It was a room she had become familiar with during her brief stay nearly a fortnight before when a chill had overtaken Jane and she had had to accept the hospitality of the Bingleys. The music and the buzz of conversation quieted into a soft lull the closer she got to the doorway.

  She held her breath as she tested the doorknob. Elizabeth would not put it past Miss Bingley to lock rooms in an effort to prevent the locals from stealing something of value. As if anyone in Meryton had the audacity to steal a book from a library which was, as yet, poorly stocked.

  The door opened with a click, and Elizabeth stepped into the dark, quiet room. Leaning against the heavy wood with a large sigh, she rested her head against the smooth oak, its coolness soothing to the touch.

  Moonlight poured through the window overlooking a fountain in the middle of the gardens and cast its relaxing glow through the center of the room. A welcoming couch in a dark corner beckoned to her, and she curled up on it, melting into the cushions and closing her eyes for a moment. The pounding in her head slowed to a soft drum. She would stay for just a few minutes. The tension slowly melted away from her body. It could not hurt to stay just a short while longer. That fleeting thought was the last she could remember as she drifted off…. Just a short while.

  Darcy slipped down the hall, taking care to avoid drawing attention— especially that of Miss Bingley. He had felt her eyes on him the whole of the evening.

  After hearing Wickham’s basis for threats, he had been on his best behavior. He had listened to conversations he never would have made himself endure the day before, he had danced several times with various ladies— even participating in the pointless chatter expected of him between jumps and turns…. He had hoped to dance with Miss Elizabeth, but when it became apparent that she was purposely avoiding him, his good humor took a turn. His patience had reached its limits, and he could no longer pretend to be sociable when everything and everyone irked him.