The Indomitable Miss Elizabeth Read online

  Elizabeth tried to hide her disappointment. The book really was for Father. He would take great pleasure in being amongst the first in his small circle of philosophical friends to discover another great thinker before his works became well-known.

  Mr. Darcy shuffled through the remaining books, handing another to Elizabeth and returning the rest to his groom. Mary had a firm grip on her gift, and he did not attempt to remove it from her possession.

  "Or do you think Mr. Bennet would prefer this one?" The glint in his eyes drew Elizabeth in, filling her with expectation. That emotion, which too often led to disappointment, gave her pause. Books were a personal gift. Since she was a child, she had dreamed of a handsome gentleman who possessed a wondrous and special insight into her soul; a man with whom she could laugh and share her secrets in confidence; a man capable of selecting the perfect book for her to read. Though Mr. Darcy showed amazing promise, the likelihood of that happening made her hesitant.

  “Open it,” he insisted.

  This book was heavier than the last. Most certainly a novel instead of a book of poetry. She held her breath once again. She loved novels. They were her weakness.

  Would it be Shelley’s latest gothic novel? Elizabeth enjoyed them, but that was too easy a selection. It would hold no meaning.

  Would it be something to challenge her intellect? Also, too easy. He knew her well enough to know she enjoyed a challenge and was not intimidated by debates or new ideas.

  The paper was loose and only required her to pull it away to soothe her aching curiosity. She looked at him again. He leaned forward, his intense eyes blazing against her face. Did he realize how important this was to her? Was it as important to him?

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam shift his weight. She had nearly forgotten his presence. Mary, too, looked at her between flickering glances to her cherished volume. It would be a struggle for her to maintain a social presence with a new book to tempt her. As it would for Elizabeth if Mr. Darcy had been wise in his selection.

  With a deep breath, she pulled the paper away and looked at the book. "The Female Quixote,” she read aloud for the benefit of everyone present. Her breath shook in her effort to control it.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam roared in laughter. "If that is meant for Mr. Bennet, than I am an ape's uncle!"

  Elizabeth bit her lips together, but she could not gain mastery over her smile. Mr. Darcy’s selection was perfect. Such merriment filled her, she played along in the farce of Mr. Darcy's own creation. "I have read Charlotte Lennox’s works before." In fact, Mr. Darcy had caught her reading one of them in Mr. Bingley's library when Jane had fallen ill at Netherfield Park the month prior. "However, my father, I am confident to say, has not been so fortunate. This is reported to be a powerful depiction of the real influence of females. I wonder why you think my father holds any particular interest in this subject?"

  Mr. Darcy stood erect, raising his head to his normal, lofty posture. They had argued about his arrogance before, but at this moment his display of pride was earned. Was it, in fact, pride when used for the benefit and enjoyment of another?

  "Some dismiss the heroine as a coquette who simply used romance as a tool. Others say that Arabella’s unconscious use of charm stems from her earnestness. Her genuineness of character gives her immense power and ultimately leads to a happy conclusion to her turbulent story. Any man with five daughters would do well to gain what insights he can into such a lady."

  Elizabeth did not need to ask in which camp Mr. Darcy firmly planted his feet. She had never encouraged him. In fact, from the beginning, she had opposed him. If she used feminine devices, she was unaware of them. That he thought a man might gain insight into the workings of a lady — when, indeed, most ladies themselves were unaware of themselves enough to have opinions of their own or a society to dictate their behavior for them — was laughable.

  And laugh, she did. With enthusiasm. Colonel Fitzwilliam joined her immediately, as did Mr. Darcy — whose laughter was more difficult to earn and, as such, infinitely more rewarding. Mary looked at them as if they had lost their wits.

  "We had best continue our walk. Miss Lucas will want me to lend this novel to her as soon as … my father … has finished reading it," Elizabeth teased.

  With a loud guffaw, Colonel Fitzwilliam slapped Mr. Darcy on the back, sending him forcefully down the road. "Indeed, Mr. Bennet will benefit greatly from such a work of art."

  Mr. Darcy turned on him. "Novels have a surprising amount of truth in human nature hidden in their pages. You may want to consider reading one sometime. You might find you gain more insights into the nature of the men under your command than you stand to benefit from the drab tomes on military history and strategy you prefer to read."

  Elizabeth was shocked. The colonel was too lively a gentleman not to indulge in humorous, or slightly scandalous, reading.

  Mary voiced her opinion aloud, offering an explanation. "Perhaps the colonel takes his responsibilities and lot in life more seriously than most do and thus prefers to lighten his load by performing them more effectively. There is time enough for joviality and cheer, but that will not lengthen the lives of those under his command nor keep bread on the table."

  Colonel Fitzwilliam cackled, raising his eyebrows at Mary. "You understand my views clearly, Miss Mary. I am of a practical, decisive nature and see no reason to add to my burdens by lamenting my fate or neglecting them, thus leading to a lowered respect of myself and my values."

  Perhaps Mother had been correct about him. He sought a serious wife. But Mary?

  "Your views are commendable, Colonel. It is only a pity your career should lead you down the path of bloodshed." Mary pursed her lips in disapproval.

  No, Mother had been wrong. As much as they might have in common, Mary would never compromise her standards. She had said so earlier. She would never attach herself to a man of war when peace was what she sought.

  The colonel merely smiled. "I could argue that men such as myself seek to prevent bloodshed by protecting those who would suffer harm should an enemy attack our shores. However, I am of a mind that we will have to agree to disagree on the subject. Or am I wrong?"

  To that, Mary smiled slightly. "I appreciate your insight, sir. Disturbance and discord rarely solve the issues being discussed, and so I find them fruitless and a waste of breath. While I might disagree with your profession, I am not ignorant enough to take you to pains for it. God will judge you for your works, not me."

  And with her otherwise sensible speech brought to a pious end, they continued down the road to Lucas Lodge. If Colonel Fitzwilliam appreciated Mary’s practical comments, what would he think of Charlotte?

  Chapter 4

  Miss Lucas, as Mrs. Bennet had tactlessly stated, was not a beauty. Neither was Richard handsome, for that matter — not that Darcy considered interfering in the affairs of his cousin's heart.

  However, Miss Lucas' sensibility and polite manners would do her credit in any level of society. Her kind nature and notable friendship with Miss Elizabeth enhanced her features so that by the time the tea was poured, she was pleasant enough to the eye.

  Unlike Miss Mary, she took no offense in Richard's profession. Instead, she commented on how fortunate he was to be able to travel so much, causing his cousin to sit taller in his chair. If he puffed his chest out any further, the shiny buttons on Richard’s waistcoat would burst.

  "I have only recently returned from London. I fear my knowledge of England is limited to my family circle. I once attempted to convince my aunt to acquire a home in Scotland for the sole purpose of visiting her there, but it was to no avail." Miss Lucas spoke with such a straight face, Darcy was uncertain if she teased or not. Until Miss Elizabeth bit her lips to control her reaction.

  What a contrast those two women were, and yet they were dear friends. Without words, they understood each other and the conversation between them was both entertaining and intelligent. While Miss Elizabeth tended to say what
ever was on her mind, Miss Lucas was more reserved. However, Miss Elizabeth seemed to know her thoughts — on a few occasions voicing them for her cautious friend — and it did not take long for Darcy to feel comfortable in the company of Miss Lucas. That Richard was pleased with his current associations was made quite obvious by his frequent comments and easy smiles.

  "And did you have a pleasant trip to London?" Darcy asked Miss Lucas.

  "I did, thank you. My aunt is a widow in circumstances comfortable enough to suffer constant boredom. She sent for me to appease her ennui."

  "The plague of the wealthy," added Richard. "Tis a pity ladies are not allowed to occupy their time and their minds as gentlemen do.”

  Miss Elizabeth chuckled. “At fencing matches or drinking sherry at an exclusive women’s club?”

  “Do such clubs exist? I should like to see one,” added Miss Lucas.

  Darcy kept his face straight. “So long as the two are not combined, I see no problem in a woman participating in such activities.”

  Rewarding him with dimpled cheeks, Miss Elizabeth said, “I doubt you ever suffer from a lack of occupations — leisurely or obligatory. A gentleman who takes his responsibilities seriously has many demands on his time."

  Miss Lucas nodded. "While I agree for the most part, I do believe a lady who takes proper interest in her household has as much to occupy her time. Only her work often goes unnoticed and unappreciated.”

  Darcy had not considered the issue from a lady’s perspective, not having had the advantage of his mother’s presence at the age he ought to have noticed such efforts. He would never want his wife to feel that the few duties society allowed her were insignificant. Nor would he restrict her if she really did want to learn fencing… He would take pride in teaching her.

  Miss Elizabeth crinkled her nose in displeasure. “Both unfortunate and true. On the other hand, most ladies of fortune are only interested in hosting parties and the other superficial arrangements which give little satisfaction to a smoothly running household. Their only hope is to have the help of a capable housekeeper.”

  “Which to my good fortune, my aunt has. Otherwise, she would be much too busy managing her own affairs to remember me," Miss Charlotte added, restoring humor to their group.

  "That is a practical outlook, and a positive one," commended Richard.

  "As much diversion as London offers, I am happy you are home. I missed you," said Miss Elizabeth.

  How Darcy wished she could speak so plainly to him. Miss Elizabeth was not the sort of lady to hold back when she wished to express herself, but she had enough propriety to prevent her from doing so in front of her mother or their present company. Had she missed him as much as he had missed her? Even now, though she sat across from him, he ached for her.

  He felt her gaze. She looked at him from under her curly eyelashes, giving him a jolt. Was she including him in her statement to Miss Lucas? Dare he flatter himself? He had learned to be cautious in interpreting her. Too many times he had erred, convincing himself of her regard when she had held him in derision. That seemed like an eternity ago, and his confidence bolstered at the knowledge of how far her opinion toward him had changed.

  Darcy reached for his teacup, hoping its contents would settle his nerves.

  Blast it all, he sounded like Mrs. Bennet! He had never suffered from his nerves and he was not about to begin to now — no matter how his heart fluttered and his stomach twisted in Miss Elizabeth’s presence.

  Willing his hand to hold his cup steady, Darcy listened politely as Miss Lucas told them of the different diversions of which she had availed herself during her stay with her aunt. He heard enough to be able to give an answer were it asked of him, but every other sense in his possession was fully trained on Miss Elizabeth.

  Their walk had lent her complexion a flattering glow. The chocolate brown irises in her eyes beamed with golden flecks. A spatter of light freckles, which were the bane of most ladies but which Darcy adored for the meaning they bore of their owner’s appreciation of being out of doors, dusted over the bridge of her nose and disappeared into her cheeks. If he were fortunate enough to win her heart, he planned to kiss every speck.

  He imagined riding over his property at Pemberley with her at his side. Did she ride? He would have to find out. He would take great pleasure in teaching her. Or, if she was averse to horseflesh, he would be content to walk beside her. The slower pace would give more time for conversation. Everything had its benefits.

  Before he knew what was about, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, and Richard stood. He staggered to his feet in his haste to follow suit, and Richard noticed. The lout noticed everything.

  Darcy had hoped to engage Miss Elizabeth in lively discourse during the remainder of the walk to Longbourn, but his oaf of a cousin had other ideas, being intent on monopolizing Miss Elizabeth's conversation so that Darcy could hardly get in a word. After some minutes, he kept his own jealous thoughts company, tiring of Richard's humorous remarks and gritting his teeth every time his cousin made Miss Elizabeth laugh as he so dearly wished to.

  Miss Mary, her thoughts obviously elsewhere as her eyes looked blankly over the fields, did not seem to notice. If she did, she did not care enough to involve herself in their conversation nor attempt to speak with Darcy. Not that he minded at all. He knew very well how stormy his aspect could appear when dark thoughts consumed him. His mind told him Richard was not a threat, how if Miss Elizabeth could find greater happiness with someone other than himself, he ought to be happy for her to have her heart's desire fulfilled. But that did not stop jealousy from consuming him.

  Darcy’s vulnerability toward Miss Elizabeth concerned him. That he admired her more than any female he had ever met, that he respected her more today than he had on their first meeting, he easily admitted. That he loved her, he knew. But the growing suspicion that every future hope and happiness depended upon her proved to be disconcerting. Never had he allowed himself to be reliant on another, and he dreaded the uncertainty of allowing his love to deepen (as it would even without his permission) without reassurances from the lady his heart and mind conspired against him to choose. Yet, he could not ask for her promise before she was ready to give it. He could not do her that injustice merely to appease his disturbed state; his need for her approval.

  By the time they reached Longbourn, Darcy was nauseated with emotion. Mrs. Bennet had his sympathy if this was the lot she claimed to bear daily.

  By a merciful turn of events, Mr. Bennet was not in at Longbourn, and thus the temptation to prolong their conversation was no longer an option. He would call on the morrow to give Mr. Bennet the books.

  Waiting until the ladies were inside before mounting their horses to depart, he and Richard took their leave.

  "Are you well, Darcy? Surliness does not suit you."

  Darcy glared at Richard.

  Richard reached over to tag Darcy in the arm, annoying him further.

  "Come on, Darcy. I know your feelings toward Miss Elizabeth. As your favorite cousin and your elder…"

  Darcy wished he could glare harder than he already was.

  "… I have your best interest at heart. I promised Georgiana I would keep an eye on you and ensure the worthiness of the lady before you gave your heart over completely."

  "And what makes you such an expert?" Darcy growled. If his little sister was so worried about him, she ought to come to Hertfordshire herself. Now that Wickham was gone and Meryton was safe again, he could write to her and arrange for her to stay with him at Netherfield Park. Miss Bingley would take greater care to behave around him with Georgiana there. The more he thought about, the better the idea sounded. He would write to her as soon as they arrived at Tanner's inn.

  "I am in command of many young men who look to me for my superior wisdom," said Richard with a smirk on his face.

  "You give advice to your men about love and women?" scoffed Darcy. "That, I would like to hear."

  Richard laughed. "Now look whose sense
of humor has returned. When I am good, I am excellent."

  "Do not let it go to your head lest you have to sleep in the stables with the horses."

  "Which is more your problem than mine, Darcy. That is what intrigues me the most about Miss Elizabeth, I will admit. She is more similar to you than I had originally supposed."

  He had Darcy's full attention.

  Continuing, Richard said, "She has a strong personality. You will fight many battles over the years, but I have no doubt you will enjoy making peace all the more for it."

  Darcy felt a juvenile blush creep up his neck, but he refused to take Richard's bait. He would take far too much pleasure in it. Instead, Darcy said, "I do not doubt the truth of your assumption. Miss Elizabeth has a mind of her own and once she decides on something, she will defend her opinion with a tenacity worthy of a wine stain on a white cravat."

  Richard nodded. "A kind way of saying she is as stubborn as you are?"

  Darcy pulled his horse to a stop. "Offend me if you must, but do not speak against Miss Elizabeth. Would you marry a woman content to mimic popular thinking to the exclusion of sincere expressions?"

  "Calm yourself, Darcy. You know I could never attach myself to such a woman or else I would have married some years ago. My standards are every bit as high as yours … with the added burden of my necessity to marry into a small fortune."

  Darcy's anger deflated like a silk balloon. "I know it. I respect you all the more for it."

  "And I you. Which is why I wished to ascertain Miss Elizabeth's character.”

  “What did you learn?” As jealous as he was of Miss Elizabeth, he wanted Richard to praise her.

  “Take care not to order her about as you are accustomed to do. She will not take kindly to it. Also, take care not to introduce her to Aunt Catherine until after you are married. It is a tactical move which will save you a great deal of trouble."

  Darcy shivered. Aunt Catherine would not take kindly to his choice of a bride. Anyone other than his cousin Anne, Aunt Catherine's only daughter, would not suit her though Darcy had told her numerous times how mismatched they were and how he was under no obligation to enter into a forced marriage. Anne, too, had assured him she had no intention of ever marrying. He had needed no further explanation, being pleased with her answer.