In the Wilds of Derbyshire Page 20

  “You seem to have an opinion about many things, Elizabeth. I wonder where you might have cultivated such things, for it is not usual for women to speak of the troubles on the continent.”

  Only those who were near enough actually heard the comment—Fitzwilliam turned and looked at the woman, and Darcy and Miss Bennet were both surprised at it, but Mr. Drummond, his son and daughter, and Georgiana continued to speak as if they were not aware of it.

  “I find it rather refreshing,” said Darcy before Miss Bennet could speak up. “So many young ladies these days have little knowledge of the world in which they live, and they can speak of naught more substantial than the weather. Miss Bennet is obviously well-read, and she shows an understanding which is quite uncommon.”

  Mrs. Drummond returned his placid gaze with one of her own, and Darcy was unable to determine what she was thinking. At length, however, she contented herself with an abruptly spoken “Quite” before she turned back to her meal. Not wishing to allow the woman’s nebulous attack to dampen the atmosphere, Darcy spoke quickly to Miss Bennet, and soon they were speaking with as much animation as they had before.

  The problem of Mrs. Drummond was one Darcy could not quite unravel. He had little interaction with the woman, and was not well acquainted with her as a result. Mr. Drummond was all that was congenial, but the same traits did not seem to exist in the wife. Why she had chosen to make such an oblique attack on her niece, to suggest she was a bluestocking, was beyond Darcy’s comprehension. One thing was clear: she did not approve of Miss Bennet.

  The meal continued with no further issue, and at length, when it was consumed, Darcy was surprised when Mrs. Drummond rose to lead the ladies from the room, leaving the gentlemen behind. Darcy had not thought that Drummond would wish to separate, given the smallness of the party and the number of younger ladies in attendance.

  The four men sat about the table with some of Mr. Drummond’s port—not the finest vintage, but still quite good—and spoke for some time. Though Darcy was, in all honesty, eager to return to the sitting-room to once again be in company with Miss Bennet, he held himself in check, not wishing to insult his host. Fortunately, it was not long before the reason for Drummond’s actions made themselves known.

  Fitzwilliam and Edward had entered into a conversation of horses, and Edward was paying rapt attention to Fitzwilliam’s comments concerning some of the chargers he had ridden into battle, when Drummond turned his attention to Darcy.

  “Thank you for coming tonight, Darcy. I know that we are not able to offer the same style of fare to which you are accustomed, but I hope everything was agreeable.”

  “Completely so, sir,” replied Darcy. “The meal was exquisite, and your family everything obliging. We were happy to come and hope to be able to return the favor soon.”

  “And we will be happy to accept.” The man paused for a moment, seeming to search for something to say, when he turned his attention back on Darcy. “I apologize in advance if I am offending you with my query, sir, but I feel that I must have this conversation. May I ask what your intentions are with respect to my niece?”

  For the briefest of moments, Darcy was offended. Who was this man to question his character so?

  Then sanity set in and Darcy was thankful he had not voiced his reaction born of conceit. Mr. Drummond had the care of another man’s daughter, whose safety and protection was his responsibility until she was returned to her father’s home. He could see Darcy’s attentions, as could any intelligent man. Of course, he would wish to know how Darcy meant to proceed.

  Darcy let out a heavy breath and smiled at his host. “In all honesty, Mr. Drummond, I do not know what my intentions are at present.”

  It seemed the man had been holding his own breath, for he exhaled and shot Darcy an apologetic look. “I do not mean to question your honor, sir.”

  “I understand. She is under your care, and you take that responsibility seriously.”

  Mr. Drummond nodded, to which Darcy replied: “As you should. I believe you already know that I think highly of Miss Bennet, and I am pleased that she has such a conscientious protector.

  “The fact of the matter, however, is that I do not know my own mind at this time. I enjoy her company and I appreciate her vivacity and the way she and your daughter have befriended my sister. I do have some inclinations in her direction, but at this point I do not know if I will pursue them.”

  “It is hard, I know,” replied Drummond. “We have spoken of Elizabeth’s situation, and you know that she is not gifted with great wealth and she is not connected to the highest of society.”

  “I understand. But of her person, there is little of which to find fault. I have rarely met someone like her. I have a low opinion of much of high society, and even lower of misses who are bred for nothing more than to capture a wealthy husband.”

  “Then Elizabeth must be a little confusing. She is unpretentious and is more concerned with the contents of others’ characters.”

  “I am not certain I would use the word confused,” replied Darcy. “Enchanted would be closer to the mark.”

  Drummond laughed. “She does have a way about her, does she not? She was bright and precocious as a child, and showed great promise. I had not seen her in many years before she came to stay with us, but the potential she displayed has been exceeded in every particular.”

  “I do not doubt it,” said Darcy softly.

  For a few moments Drummond allowed him to think before he spoke up again. “I will not press you for a decision, nor will I attempt to influence you in any way. I, of course, see my niece as good enough for any man, but I will own to a little bias in the matter.”

  A slow smile spread over Darcy’s face in response to the other man’s words.

  “I understand some of the pressures you face,” continued Drummond. “I trust Elizabeth not to raise her hopes without foundation, and moreover, I trust that you will not trifle with her affections. The only thing I ask for is circumspection when you meet with her. Hopes can be raised unintentionally, after all, and I would not have her hurt.”

  “That is the last thing I wish to do,” said Darcy.

  “I know it is. But I would not wish to return her to the state she was when she arrived, intentionally or no.”

  “The state she was in before?” echoed Darcy. He was confused—Miss Bennet had never seemed anything other than happy and contented.

  “This situation with her sister is part of it,” replied Drummond. “She has always presented the appearance of cheer, but my brother Bennet tells me that her spirits were quite low before she came to us. I do not know all the reasons, but I do know she has been happier the longer she has been with us.”

  “I promise I will take care,” said Darcy.

  He did not speak for a moment, thinking of his options. The fact was that though he was impressed with Miss Bennet and understood her siren call could prove to be irresistible, he was in no way ready to make any kind of commitment. But Mr. Drummond deserved to have some understanding of his intentions beyond his simple statement that he did not know yet. There was a way for him to learn his own feelings and provide the other man with that security.

  “With your permission, sir, I would like to call on Miss Bennet,” said Darcy, feeling immediately like he had made the correct choice. “I am not ready for anything more than that at present and I do not think that she is either. But I am aware that the more I know of her, the more I esteem her. Through calling on her with your permission, I will begin to know more of my own mind.”

  “Excellent, sir!” said Drummond, lifting his glass in agreement. “You have my hearty approval and consent, though I am certain you are aware that for anything further you will be required to apply to her father.”

  “Should it come to that, I will be happy to do so.”

  Darcy tapped his glass to Drummond’s in a silent toast to Miss Bennet, and they both drained them.

  “Now,”
said Drummond, rising to his feet, “I believe it might be time to rejoin the ladies. I am certain there is one with whom you would rather converse.”

  Nodding, Darcy followed his host from the dining room with the other gentlemen in tow. The first sight Darcy had of Miss Bennet when they entered the room was of her laughing, her mirth streaming from her gaily, showing for all to see the delight she took in life. And it was at that moment that Darcy knew that he could love her, that he could make her an offer and bring her back to Pemberley as its mistress.

  They entered the room, and Darcy sought a seat by the temptress’s side. As soon as he did, he leaned over and softly spoke to her: “Might I ask what prompted your mirth, Miss Bennet?”

  “You may ask, but I might choose not to answer,” was her arch reply.

  “Ah, I believe I might understand. You have confidences concerning the gentlemen that you wish to keep.”

  Miss Bennet only laughed again. “So typical of your sex, sir. You imagine that the ladies speak of nothing else.”

  Darcy feigned surprise. “You do not?”

  “We do speak of you at times,” replied she, vastly amused at the conversation. “But not always. You may put your sense of superiority away, sir, for we ladies are not as affected by you as you would like to think.”

  “I beg to differ, Miss Bennet. I think you are every bit as affected as we might think.”

  “And you are not affected by us?”

  “No, I believe we are equally moved by you.”

  “There,” cried Miss Bennet. “I have induced you to own it.”

  “It was not difficult,” replied Darcy with a shrug. “I was not the one who denied it.”

  “Touché, Mr. Darcy. I believe you have carried your point in this instance.”

  “I hope you will allow me to call on you, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy, leaning toward her and speaking in a low voice. “I have a great desire to know more of you.”

  Suddenly shy, Miss Bennet nevertheless responded with the self-possession that Darcy had come to expect from her. “Of course, sir. I believe you are welcome to come at any time convenient.”

  Darcy smiled and thanked her, but he resisted correcting her implication that his intentions were anything other than directed at her. Much as he respected and esteemed the Drummonds, it was Miss Bennet whom he truly wished to see.

  For the rest of his time at Kingsdown, Darcy stayed close to Miss Bennet and engaged her in conversation. Fitzwilliam’s amused grin, Mrs. Drummond’s stony countenance, the joviality of others—none of these could distract him from the focus of his attention.

  Later, when it was time for the Darcy party to depart, they did so with fond gratitude for the pleasant evening in good company, and left promising that it would be repeated very soon. Fitzwilliam’s commentary on the journey back to Pemberley was ignored, though in truth he did not say much. What stuck in Darcy’s mind was the thought that Miss Bennet had been as reluctant to see him depart as Darcy had been to leave. It was with great hope for the future that Darcy retired that evening.

  Chapter XV

  Even if Mr. Darcy had not requested permission to call, Elizabeth would have known that he was developing an interest in her. His demeanor when he came, the way he fixed his attention upon her, often to the exclusion of anything else, the soft smile he often displayed for her—all these things showed a deepening regard, the likes of which Elizabeth had often despaired of ever prompting in a man.

  “You seem to be a man of your word, sir,” said Elizabeth on his second visit, a few days after the dinner.

  “I am,” replied Mr. Darcy, “though I am not certain to what you refer.”

  “Your request to call on me, though I do wonder if you should not raise the subject with my uncle. He is responsible for me while I am here.”

  “Indeed, he is.” The smile Mr. Darcy directed at her was faintly roguish. “The fallacy in your thinking lies in your assumption that I have not spoken with Mr. Drummond.”

  “You have?” asked Elizabeth, raising an eyebrow at him.

  “Yes,” replied Mr. Darcy. “The night we came to dinner, he confronted me about my intentions, and I responded by asking if I could call on you.”

  “Oh,” said Elizabeth, not quite knowing what to make of that intelligence.

  “I would inform you, Miss Bennet, that I do not take such things lightly. I am very serious about my future and the future of my family, and I do not ask to call on just any woman of my acquaintance.”

  “I am certain I would not think it of you,” replied Elizabeth gravely. “I feel I must ask, sir: how many other women have you called on, considering you are so fastidious about these matters?”

  Mr. Darcy grinned. “I am so demanding that this is the first time I have ever asked to call on a woman.”

  “Then I suppose I must feel flattered.”

  “Flattery is not my intention, though you may feel it if you choose. Rather, I am wondering if we might find a meeting of the minds. I am hoping we do.”

  “Then I must wish you luck, sir. For it is what I wish as well.”

  Elizabeth held Mr. Darcy’s eyes for several moments and they the both burst into laughter. “We seem to have descended into a little silliness this morning, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Only a little,” replied he. “In truth, I was dead serious.”

  “My mother would no doubt scold me for my impertinence, urging me to show you every deference, should she witness this scene. She has often despaired of my manners.”

  “I do not wish for deference,” replied he. “I receive enough deference from the Miss Bingleys of the world. From you, I would wish nothing but for you to be yourself.”

  A shyness descended over her. “Then I will endeavor to meet your approval.”

  “You already have.”

  Their conversations were not all playful bantering, though Elizabeth discovered that Mr. Darcy possessed a talent at such speech far beyond what she might have expected at her first meeting. He was obviously a man who was much more loquacious the more he came to know someone, and his comfort with Elizabeth soon increased to the point where they conversed with ease. But such playful repartee was only a part of their conversations; in fact, they spoke of many things—literature, music, common interests such as the theater—though Mr. Darcy proved to possess more of a predilection for the opera, while Elizabeth enjoyed only certain works—art, and even a sprinkling of politics. Interspersed with this, they spoke of the world and some of Mr. Darcy’s travels, including his abbreviated grand tour on the continent, and Elizabeth revealed a desire to someday see some of those locations of which he spoke so eloquently.

  All this the Drummonds watched with varying degrees of interest—Olivia with amusement, Mr. Drummond with satisfaction, Edward with surprise, and Mrs. Drummond with annoyance, unless Elizabeth missed her guess. But she was content to ignore the woman, and Mrs. Drummond did not display her feelings openly.

  The largest surprised came from a shockingly perceptive Leah. Elizabeth had quickly joined Olivia in the girl’s esteem and trust, and one morning after Mr. Darcy departed, the girl approached her shyly and sat on Elizabeth’s lap.

  “Lizzy, will you marry Mr. Darcy?” asked she as seriously as a child of five could manage.

  Astonished, Elizabeth could not speak for a moment. “Why do you say that?” she finally managed.

  “Because he loves you,” replied Leah.

  At her side, Olivia giggled into her hand, but Elizabeth, far from feeling amused, was only confused. “I do not think Mr. Darcy loves me, Leah.”

  “Of course, he does. He visits and speaks to you, kisses your hand, and listens to you carefully. Is that not what a young man does with a woman he loves?”

  “I believe a young man also does those things with a woman he considers a friend.”

  “Friends do not look on you the way Mr. Darcy does,” insisted Leah.

  Though she was shocked by th
is entire conversation—and more than a little cross with Olivia’s inability to hold in her peals of laughter—Elizabeth attempted to explain the situation to the young girl.

  “Mr. Darcy is only calling on me as a friend, Leah. He is an amiable man, and that is what amiable men do.”

  “Mama says he is proud.”

  “That is only because your mama does not know him well. He has no improper pride.”

  “He is ever so tall and handsome.”

  Elizabeth smiled at the girl. “Yes, he is, Leah. But I do not think he is in love with me.”

  “But maybe he will be one day?”

  “Perhaps,” said Elizabeth, unwilling to make any further comment.

  “Then when you marry him, I hope you invite me to Pem . . . Pember . . .”

  “Pemberley?” supplied Olivia helpfully.

  “Yes, that is it!” cried Leah. “I have heard that it is quite wonderful, and I should like to see it.”

  Elizabeth decided that it was time to bring the conversation to a close. She had noticed—where she did not think the sisters had—that Mrs. Drummond had looked into the room to see what had prompted Olivia’s mirth. Elizabeth did not think the woman had heard what her youngest had said, and Elizabeth was eager that she did not learn of it.

  Not long after Mr. Darcy started calling on her, Kingsdown had an unexpected visitor whose appearance shocked them all. Having completed their tasks for that day, Elizabeth and Olivia had sat down in the music room, Elizabeth showing Olivia whatever her meager skills on the pianoforte would permit. The younger children were in their lessons, their mother attending them that day, while Mr. Drummond was out on the estate, seeing to some matter or another.