The Companion Page 22

  Darcy was of a mind with Anne, though he said nothing, and soon Miss Bennet had begun to play with Georgiana attending her close by. She played through a song, then ceded the pianoforte to Georgiana who played, and then they exchanged places once again. There appeared to be much merriment between the two girls, further evidence of their new intimacy.

  As Miss Bennet seated herself and began to play again, Anne leaned to Darcy, laughter in her gaze. “It is a delightful scene, is it not?”

  “It is, indeed,” replied Darcy. His attention was firmly fixed on his sister and her guest. That was why he did not see the impish glint in his cousin’s eye.

  “Did you have prior knowledge of our uncle’s intention to visit us today?”

  “Fitzwilliam did mention that he had spoken to his father. I did know he wished to see you, but not that he would visit today.”

  There was a moment of silence, and Darcy fixed his attention on the countenance of the fair performer.

  “You know, I believe it was our uncle’s way of approving of Elizabeth.”

  His attention captured, Darcy looked over at his cousin. “He was quite clear that he appreciated her efforts on your behalf.”

  “That is all?” asked Anne. When Darcy returned her look blankly, Anne rolled her eyes at him. “Can you not see anything else in his behavior today which suggests more than a simple appreciation for her friendship?”

  Darcy shook his head. “I know not of what you speak, Anne. It was clear exactly what the earl’s sentiments were.”

  “Yes, they were clear, and yet you appear to have missed the most pertinent part.” Anne glanced skyward when he did not respond. “You have been quite transparent, Cousin. Your admiration for Elizabeth is obvious, though she continues to deny its existence.

  “Did you not see his interaction with her, how he welcomed and thanked her? What of his cryptic statement to the effect that ‘some members of the party’ would not wish to see her depart? His comments concerning her heroism? He approves of Miss Bennet, Darcy, and I suspect he was trying to subtly tell you that he approved of her for your sake.”

  Though Darcy wished to refute Anne’s assertions, he could not find it within him to do so. Thus, Darcy attempted obfuscation by a more oblique means.

  “He was only in company with us for a very few moments. How could he possibly have seen through me?”

  “Ah, but you forget, Darcy,” replied Anne, and Darcy found her smugness grinding away at his composure. “Fitzwilliam knows you as well as you know yourself. He has seen your admiration for Elizabeth. I am certain he informed his father of it.”

  That was not only possible, but highly probable as well, Darcy noted with rueful annoyance. It would be just like his cousin, and the father was no better when it came to making sport with Darcy.

  “You may, thus, proceed without fear of the family’s disapprobation.” Anne stopped and grinned. “At least you may be assured of the lack of censure from any member of the family who is not my mother.”

  Shocked, Darcy could only blurt: “I am surprised you would say such a thing, Anne.”

  Anne tilted her head to the side and regarded him. “Why should you be surprised?”

  As he gazed at Anne, Darcy recalled the fact that he had never known what Anne wanted, as he had never allowed himself to become close enough to her to discover it. But when he made this observation to her, Anne only shook her head.

  “I know why you felt you could not engage me, Cousin.” Anne stopped and smirked. “If you ever had, you might have found yourself engaged to me.”

  “Perhaps it might have been better to find some way,” replied Darcy. “Though we are cousins, I feel we hardly know each other. I apologize for it, Anne—it was unconscionable.”

  “If it was unconscionable, I do not think you were the only one caught up in it,” replied Anne. “I do not hold it against you. Now that we have the opportunity, perhaps it would be best to attempt to come to some understanding. We have time, it appears, since our uncle will forbid my mother from coming here.”

  Darcy allowed himself a slow nod. “Then the first subject to canvass is your opinion of your mother’s wishes regarding us.”

  “I never wished to marry you, even before I began to assert my independence.” Anne fell silent for a moment, apparently deep in thought. “Whether this was simply because I did not wish to bow to mother’s desires or due to a latent desire to find my own way I cannot say. But I was reasonably certain I would not be forced into it by your own behavior, Cousin. I assume you have always been of like mind.”

  “I have no desire to marry you,” replied Darcy with a slow nod, his eyes darting to where Miss Bennet and Georgiana were seated at the pianoforte, laughing and chatting while they attempted to play a duet together. “This cradle betrothal your mother pushes was never mentioned to me by my mother, and my father openly derided it. I am not willing to be bound to something so wholly without foundation.”

  “Then we are agreed!” exclaimed Anne. “We shall both live our lives in a manner which we find pleasing.”

  It was as if a weight had suddenly been lifted from Darcy’s shoulders. He favored Anne with the first true smile he had ever given her, and she returned it in like fashion.

  “I believe I might have something to hold against Lady Catherine,” said Darcy, and though he attempted to inject a hint of a playful quality into his voice, his words were true. “I believe we might have been good friends had your mother not interfered. That is unfortunate, as I do not have so many friends that I will not repine the loss of one.”

  “And I have almost none,” agreed Anne. “But from this day forward, we may forward that friendship, for now that we are both determined, regardless of what Mother says, I believe we have nothing more to fear.”

  They spent the rest of their time that evening speaking, and Darcy began to get a sense of his cousin as a person. But in the back of his mind, he kept thinking of his own situation, having Miss Bennet in his house and the pleasure and pain it afforded him. And the more he thought of it—in the music room while in the company of the three women, and later in his own room—he began to wonder if pursuing Miss Bennet would be such a detriment to his family. Georgiana and Anne loved her, Fitzwilliam esteemed her, and even the earl had given her his approval. What more did he require?

  It was not until late in the evening that he was struck by an epiphany which changed his whole outlook. Though he had determined for years to avoid being forced into marriage with his cousin, Darcy only now realized how that had affected him. The specter of this so-called engagement and the knowledge of Lady Catherine’s ire should she become aware of his attentions to another had played a large part in his avoidance of any young lady of society, beyond his reticence and unwillingness to marry a woman who did not stimulate him intellectually.

  Furthermore, the feeling of freedom he had experienced when he and Anne had determined their mutual lack of interest in the other told Darcy that in some way, he had felt guilty for ignoring her all these years. Exactly how much that had affected him with other young ladies, he was not certain. But he thought it had exerted some effect, possibly preventing him from truly looking at another young woman or considering her for a wife.

  It had taken Miss Bennet, her magnetic allure, and joie de vivre to work their way past his barriers and prick his interest. And now it had grown from a mild amusement, to an admiration of her fine eyes, to a knowledge of her radiant character, to an all-consuming desire to be the man to whom she gave her love. And he knew what he had to do. There was no impediment against his interest in her. And he would allow nothing to get in his way.

  Chapter XVIII

  The first opportunity Darcy obtained to put his newfound resolve into action arrived the following morning. It had been clear to all present in his house that Miss Bennet had longed to visit Hyde Park and indulge in the beauty of nature, and though she had exercised laudable restraint, she declared her res
olve to go the day before her relations were to come to dinner.

  “I am only surprised you have managed to hold yourself in check this long,” said Anne when Miss Bennet made her intentions known. “I thought we might lose you yesterday.”

  Georgiana giggled along with Anne’s assessment, but Miss Bennet only smiled. “Well you know my habits, Anne.”

  “I do, indeed. But I am sure we can spare you for a time. I would only ask that you take a footman along for your protection. London is not Rosings, after all.”

  “Of course, I will,” replied Miss Bennet.

  “If I might impose, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy, “I believe a little exercise would do me some good as well. Perhaps I could accompany you in the footman’s stead.”

  That Miss Bennet was surprised by his application, Darcy could easily see. She turned to look at him, and for a moment, Darcy thought she might refuse his company. To his relief, however, she voiced her acceptance, though quietly. Anne shot him a smirk, which Darcy returned as blandly as he could, and they soon quit the room and left the house.

  The streets which led to the park were clear and relatively free of other walkers, the fashionable hour for walking being later in the afternoon. Darcy had always known he was fortunate to live in such a locale where the avenues were broad and pretty and the problems of crime were distant. The park itself was a welcome boon, as it was a retreat from the bustle of the city, though he tended to avoid it during fashionable hours.

  “Have you ever walked in Hyde Park, Miss Bennet?” asked he when they had arrived.

  “No, Mr. Darcy.” Miss Bennet turned what he thought was a shy smile on him. “There is a park near to my uncle’s house in which I have often walked, but I have no experience in so grand a place as this.”

  “Then you are in for a treat,” replied Darcy, feeling remarkably at ease with this young woman. “You could come to Hyde Park every day for a month and not explore every path it has to offer. There are many different types of trees and bushes, and the flowers are quite beautiful. And then, should you become more adventurous, you could enter Kensington Gardens and explore all they have to offer, including Round Pond and the various formal gardens.”

  “You are intimately acquainted with all these sights?” asked Miss Bennet, a hint of teasing in her manner.

  “I do live nearby for at least part of the year. Georgiana and I often come here to walk or ride in a curricle, though on occasion we have ridden our horses together. When I come myself, it is usually on horseback.”

  Miss Bennet regarded him with amusement. “You come to see and be seen, do you?”

  “Come now, Miss Bennet,” replied Darcy, diverted by her teasing, “you do not think I, of all people, come to be in company with others, do you? And Georgiana, who is not out and is shy of those she does not know—would you think she would be interested in being paraded in front of society for all to see?”

  With a shaken head, Miss Bennet said: “No, I would not have thought it of either of you. Then you avoid society by walking here in the mornings?”

  “Terribly unfashionable of us—is it not?”

  “Perhaps,” replied Miss Bennet. “But I cannot imagine I would behave any differently. Too many people would interrupt my enjoyment of nature.”

  “Then you would enjoy seeing my home at Pemberley.” Darcy looked out over the grounds of the park, but in reality, he was seeing the vistas of his home, imagining her there, as they walked along the lake or strolled the paths of the gardens. “Hyde Park is a marvelous creation, and it is a beautiful retreat when in town, but in truth, it pales in comparison with my home.”

  Darcy walked on for a few moments, lost in his own thoughts, but after some time he remembered that he was not alone. He turned a rueful glance on his companion, and he noted her watching him with something akin to wonder.

  “I apologize, Miss Bennet,” said Darcy. “At times, when I have been away from my home, I find my thoughts returning there. I prefer it to the city, you see.”

  “That is something I can well understand, Mr. Darcy,” replied Miss Bennet. “I hope someday to be afforded the opportunity to see it, for you have made your love of it clear.”

  “Have you ever traveled anywhere else?” asked Darcy as a means of avoiding a long silence and in the hope of coming to know her better.

  “Alas, no,” replied Miss Bennet. “I have been to Kent, as you know, but other than my aunt and uncle’s house, I have not been anywhere else. My father, you see, is not fond of traveling, and even the short journey to London is a trial on his nerves, especially when he must travel with six ladies.”

  Darcy laughed and shook his head. “I can well imagine.”

  “But I have never truly missed this lack, though I do hope to travel more in the future,” said Miss Bennet. “I love the scenes of my home and have walked them extensively.”

  They spent some pleasant moments discussing Miss Bennet’s knowledge of Hertfordshire, and Darcy listened with rapt attention. He had agreed with Bingley’s assessment the previous year of his leased estate’s beauty, but though he had ridden the hills and woods of Hertfordshire extensively, he had not truly stopped to consider it to any great extent. Miss Bennet’s memories made the area feel more alive than it had been when he had been in residence. It made him wonder if he had passed his time in Hertfordshire fast asleep.

  Their wanderings through the park eventually brought them to the shores of the Serpentine, and Darcy produced a bag he had procured from the kitchens for the purpose, sharing a few pieces of bread with Miss Bennet. They occupied themselves for several moments, breaking off small chunks and feeding them to the ducks which almost always frequented the shores of the lake.

  “That fellow in particular seems to take great enjoyment in our benevolence,” said Darcy, pointing at one large male, who was, at that very moment, eying them closely, eager for the next treat to be provided.

  “And he is quite aggressive too,” said Miss Bennet.

  She broke off another piece and, quite deliberately, threw it at another mass of waterfowl, and though the large specimen they were discussing made a valiant attempt at it, one of the nearby birds scooped it up first. The baleful glare the duck directed at Miss Bennet prompted their shared laughter.

  “I believe you have offended him, Miss Bennet,” exclaimed Darcy between his chortles.

  “It serves him right!” exclaimed she. “He should not be such a glutton.”

  Darcy shook his head with amusement. “I suppose his mother did not teach him to share.”

  “You may laugh, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet, affecting affront. “But I shall not encourage bad behavior. I think our voracious friend has had enough from my hand.”

  Then, of course, it became a game. Miss Bennet would deliberately throw her bread away from the large duck, and it would squawk in protest at her treachery. Then he learned to watch her as she threw, moving as her arm was in motion, even managing to scoop up the prize once, prompting Elizabeth to protest again.

  “Come, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bennet when the bird was watching her, its manner faintly triumphant. “You must assist me.” She tore off another piece, feigned throwing it in one direction, then reversing and throwing it to a different part of the lake, again drawing the bird’s ire. “Together we can ensure some of those other poor creatures receive some of our bounty.”

  Darcy chuckled, but he did not disagree. They took turns throwing the bread, but even though Miss Bennet’s subterfuge did not always work, as the duck—and several others who caught on—would often watch as she affected a throw and then follow her second one, much to her annoyance. But when they worked as a team, Darcy throwing after Elizabeth pretended to throw, sometimes alternating, and sometimes making several motions in succession without divesting themselves of their treats, the clever birds had no solution for them. Finally, their friend squawked and flew off to sulk on another part of the lake, prompting Miss Bennet’s delighted
peals of laughter.

  “It looks like he has tired of the game,” said Darcy. “And none too soon—I have run out of bread to feed them.”

  Miss Bennet tossed her last few pieces into the pond, and they turned and made their way to another part of the lake. “I am sorry, Mr. Darcy,” said she, affecting primness, “but I simply cannot abide gluttony.”

  “I can see that, Miss Bennet. Unfortunately, our friend does not appear to agree with your assessment of his greed.”

  When they had gone some distance up the lake, Darcy searched around for several moments. Finding several smooth rocks, he skipped stones on the surface, watching with satisfaction when they skipped four, five, or even six times. But he found that he was not the only one with the talent. After Miss Bennet had made a particularly fine toss, Darcy turned to her with interest.

  “I was not aware you could skip stones, Miss Bennet.”

  “Is it not an unladylike practice, sir?” asked she, favoring him with an arch of her brow.

  Darcy laughed. “Not completely unladylike. Georgiana and I have often engaged in this same activity at Pemberley, though her skill is not so great as yours. Where did you learn?”

  “You forget that my father has five daughters and no sons, sir. I am his favorite and the most like him in temperament, and I was always the most adventurous of my sisters. He showed me how to do it when I was naught but five years of age. My skill, you see, is the result of many years of constant study and practice.”

  “I dare say you have used your time well, then,” replied Darcy, laughing again.

  They spent some few more moments looking out over the lake. Miss Bennet asked him about it, specifically how deep, and Darcy shared what he knew of its construction and pointed out the bridge in the distance, where the rest of the waterway became the Long Water, and beyond it, Kensington Gardens. Miss Bennet then indicated a desire to see more of it some other time.