Assessing Mr Darcy Page 6

  “Mama!” Elizabeth cried.

  “We could go look for him,” Jane sat on the edge of her chair, looking excessively excited. “We could take an apple with us.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh, you are so good, Jane.” She turned to Elizabeth. “Why did you not think of that?”

  “Because I do not believe William is in any grave danger. He is only a few minutes later than expected.”

  Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips and shook her head. “Go with your sister. I cannot have both William and Jane missing. Surely if you are with her, there is little chance that anything ill will befall her.”

  “Do you not care if Lizzy does not return?” Mary asked.

  “Whatever would possess you to ask such a thing?” her mother demanded. “Of course, I shall be devastated if Elizabeth does not return, but one must realize that of all my daughters, Jane is the most beautiful and likely the one to ensure that if something happens to William, I and any remaining unwed children, of which you may be one, will be well-cared-for should the worst befall your father.”

  Elizabeth was not certain if she should be insulted by her mother words or simply pleased that, should she not return, she would be missed. She did not stay in the room long enough to hear the argument that was about to erupt between Mary and their mother. Mama would likely be calling for her salts soon enough as she would talk herself into flutters. Instead, Elizabeth hurried up to her room behind Jane and prepared to set out to find her missing brother.

  ~*~*~

  “When you marry Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth began when she and Jane had ridden far enough from the stables to not be heard by anyone, “you shall have to invite Mary to visit you in town. I am certain Mr. Bingley will not always remain at Netherfield, and if we do not wish to have Papa driven to an early grave due to the incessant arguing between Mama and Mary, we must see Mary well-matched soon.”

  Jane giggled. “They have been bickering a great deal lately.”

  “I think it is the way Mama critiques everything Mary does. It is always wanting in some way. She is not so lively as Lydia, she is not so accomplished as Mama expects her to be, and she is not so beautiful as you – not that any of us is.”

  Jane gasped.

  “You know it is true, Jane. Not one of us can compare to you in beauty. Although Lydia does come close, she does not have your sweet spirit.”

  Jane shook her head. “Kitty. Kitty is far prettier than I am.”

  “Kitty?” Elizabeth’s voice was filled with incredulity.

  “Yes, Kitty.” Jane replied. “When she is not following Lydia’s advice and just dresses herself as she wishes, she is pretty, and in a year or two she will be the one all the young men will be seeking.” Jane smiled broadly at Elizabeth. “That should make Lydia excessively perturbed!”

  “Our poor father!” Elizabeth cried as both she and Jane dissolved into laughter for a moment. They both knew that Lydia expected to be the one to step into Jane’s place when Jane married. It did not matter to Lydia that she was the youngest. She was only second in her mind to Jane.

  “Mr. Crenshaw,” Jane said when they had sobered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I will not have to find a husband for Mary. Mr. Crenshaw has been paying her particular attention at assemblies for the last year, and he always appears to be very happy to see her if we happen to meet him in Meryton.”

  Elizabeth’s brow furrowed as she thought. Mr. Crenshaw had been polite in every meeting, and he had asked both her and Mary as well as Jane to dance. “Are you certain he has singled her out?”

  Jane nodded. “Watch him at the next assembly. He will ask us each to dance, but he will not be as animated dancing with us as he will be with Mary. And, if you watch him when he is not dancing, you will see that he is often looking in her direction.”

  “Truly?”

  Jane nodded.

  Elizabeth had not paused to notice such things at assemblies. She had been so busy looking for possible matches for Jane that she had not once thought about Mary. She would have to make an effort to be more attentive at the next assembly.

  “He is very nice,” she said after a moment of silent contemplation.

  “And pleasing to the eye,” Jane added with a smirk.

  “True,” Elizabeth agreed. Mr. Crenshaw was not tall and dashing, but he was not short either. And his features reminded her of those that a sculptor might chisel out of marble. He was neither portly nor thin, and she had to admit he always smelled rather nice.

  “That, along with the fact that his farm does very well, will make him a most acceptable choice for Mary. She shall want for nothing.” Jane looked at Elizabeth. “And even William approves of him. I asked — last night as I was thinking about the assembly and remembered Mr. Crenshaw.” She sighed. “It will be the most perfect assembly ever if Mr. Bingley asks me to dance.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “It will be indeed.”

  “And Mr. Darcy will ask you.”

  “If William allows it,” Elizabeth muttered.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Have you not noticed how uneasy William seems when he speaks of Mr. Darcy?”

  Jane shook her head.

  “Well, I have, and I have been determined to ask him about it. However, I still have not had the opportunity to do so. There must be something about Mr. Darcy of which William knows and does not approve. Perhaps I should not even like him.”

  “But how can you not?” Jane cried. “He is very handsome and rich – very, very rich!”

  “Yet, if his character is wanting,” Elizabeth refuted. She drew her horse to a stop. “This is the field Papa said William was going to, is it not?”

  Jane looked in all directions. “I believe so.”

  “And yet he is not here.”

  “Mr. Jones,” Jane called to a man who was plucking fruit from a tree in the orchard that stood next to the field in which they rode.”

  “Aye, miss,” the gentleman climbed down from his ladder and came to stand by the stone wall that enclosed the orchard. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief and then replaced his hat. “How might I be of service?”

  “Have you seen William?” Jane asked.

  “Aye,” the man glanced at the sky, “some time ago now. He and I and the two gents with him had a good discussion about the piece of wall in need of repair. Those boards will not hold back the cattle for long, especially after the winter does her work.”

  “I am certain Father will have it repaired before the trees are flowering in the spring,” Jane replied with a smile.

  “I do not doubt it, miss. Your father is a good man, but there are only so many hands to complete so much work.”

  “True, but my father adores jam on his toast – damson jam in particular – so I dare say, you shall be first on his list of things to be seen to.”

  “A good jam is a pleasure. That’s for certain,” Mr. Jones agreed with a chuckle. “I like it right well myself.”

  “How is the baby?” Jane asked.

  “He’s a joy, miss. Fat and pink, he is. He’ll be in church this Sunday.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Jane said.

  “As am I,” Elizabeth added.

  “Those gents will be there as well. The tall one – Mr. Darcy – said he’d be pleased to meet my Zachary. They both seemed very nice sorts of fellows.” He removed his hat once again and dried his brow. “They and the young Mr. Bennet were headed toward Oakham Mount, though I think the young Mr. Bennet was talking about only going as far as the wood.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jones.” Jane dipped her head, an action that was met with a small bow from Mr. Jones before he returned to his work.

  “Do you wish to go to the wood first or Oakham Mount?” Elizabeth asked.

  “It seems silly to go to Oakham Mount before the wood if William was talking of going there, do you not think?”

  Elizabeth nodded, and the two turned toward the wood that stood between
Longbourn and Oakham Mount.

  Chapter 8

  Darcy turned quickly toward William. “What did you say?”

  “That militia is due to arrive in Meryton soon,” William replied.

  “Who is their colonel?” Normally, the arrival of a regiment in an area caused little concern to Darcy beyond what was standard. The increase in men in an area always came with some inherent tribulations if those men were to be of the rowdy sort, and then there was the ever-present issue of providing accommodations as needed as well as food and supplies. However, this time Darcy had a reason for increased concern.

  William shrugged. “Forster, I believe, is what Sir William said when he called last, and if anyone knows the happenings of Meryton better than the gossips, it’s Sir William Lucas.”

  Darcy had heard a rumor that Wickham had attached himself to some militia. He would have to ask his cousin to see if Richard knew under whose command Wickham would be.

  “Do you know this Colonel Forster?” William asked.

  Darcy shook his head. “But my cousin might.”

  “The town will be less serene once they arrive,” Bingley commented. He stopped and picked up a rock to toss into the stream beside which they were walking. Upon getting to the shade of the woods with its low hanging branches, they had decided that dismounting and leading their horses would be the best way to proceed, and then, William had suggested they water their mounts at this stream.

  “As will be Longbourn’s sitting room,” William muttered.

  “Do you provide lodging?” Darcy asked.

  William shook his head. “That would be ill-advised considering the number of sisters I have,” he replied with a laugh. “The officers will find their way to our house well enough, however.” He shook his head again. “And my mother and youngest sisters will welcome them with great delight.”

  “Ah,” Darcy commented. “A gentleman in a smart red coat can turn a head or two – at least, that is what my cousin says.”

  “He is most certainly right!” William said.

  “Do all of your sisters prefer red coats to other colours?” Bingley asked.

  William chuckled. “Not all. Lydia certainly, Kitty most likely, but the others are looking for more than a smart jacket.”

  Darcy stopped and stood for a moment at the edge of the stream. What a trial it must be to have five sisters for whom to care. He had found his one sister enough of a trial, and Bingley’s two sisters were forever giving him trouble. Five! To see all five well-matched and wed!

  “I believe one of my sisters was impressed by a blue coat the other day,” William added with an amused look for Bingley, who grinned in response.

  “It is a fine coat. Cost me a good deal, but it is as long in value as it is in good looks.”

  “Bingley is as much enamoured with fashion as is his sister. However, he is more frugal,” Darcy teased. He was finding it easy to be relaxed the longer they moved through the countryside together.

  “And does your sister have any preference for coats?” William asked, keeping his eyes directed forward, though Darcy noticed the poor fellow’s ears growing red.

  “Whichever one Darcy might be wearing,” Bingley responded with a laugh.

  “Is that how it is?” William asked.

  “No!” Darcy exclaimed. “That is not how it is.” He did not want the brother of the lady he wished to know better to think he already belonged to another.

  “It is how Caroline would wish it,” Bingley replied.

  Darcy glared at Bingley until he caught his eye, then he tipped his head toward William. Had he not been listening last evening when Darcy had been telling him how William Bennet seemed to admire Caroline?

  Bingley’s eyes grew wide, and he stumbled. “She has no hope of securing Darcy,” Bingley added hastily. “His affections lie elsewhere.”

  “You are betrothed.”

  Darcy blinked. It was not a question but a statement as if William knew that it was a fact. “No, I am not.”

  “Not to Miss Bingley,” William agreed.

  “Not to anyone,” Darcy refuted.

  “No one?” William asked.

  Darcy shook his head. “Why would you think I am?”

  William shrugged. “Just a rumour I heard, although the source seemed good enough to be believed.”

  Fallen leaves crunched under boots and hooves.

  “Have you met any of my relations?” Darcy asked. There was a hoped-for betrothal about which only those close to the family would know, but he did not think any of them would speak of it, save, perhaps, for his Aunt Catherine.

  “No,” William replied.

  Darcy’s chest constricted as realization dawned on him. There was one other person who might bandy about the supposed betrothal. He looked up through the leaves at the sky. The sun was climbing higher in the clear blue beyond the trees’ canopy. “It is growing late.”

  Bingley pulled out his watch. “It is not so very late.” He snapped the timepiece closed and tucked it back into his pocket.

  “Late enough,” Darcy retorted. “By the time we have returned, I will be far beyond hungry.”

  Bingley looked at him skeptically as well he should. Darcy always ate something before going for a ride, and he had just indulged in some wild berries. Darcy shook his head and hoped Bingley would not press the issue. If William Bennet was a friend or even an acquaintance of George Wickham, Darcy wanted nothing to do with either William or any member of his family.

  “If you insist.” Bingley’s look of disbelief remained in place. “But we might come across more berries.”

  “I would rather have a cup of tea and a piece of toast.” Far away from any of Wickham’s associates. Darcy stepped to turn back in the direction from which they had come. However, his foot found some damp leaves covering a rock and slid off of the rock. His ankle twisted as his foot slipped, and down he went.

  “Oh, do not move.” A feminine voice called as Darcy attempted to rise.

  His right hip, having made contact with the rock when he landed, smarted more than his pride and that combined with the ache in his ankle gave him incentive to not refute the instructions. He cursed his boot, the leaves, and that blasted rock for keeping him from his escape and instead, throwing him in front of the very lady he was hoping to forget once he returned to Netherfield.

  William helped first Elizabeth and then Jane from their horses.

  “What have you done to poor Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth teased her brother. “Did he say something not to your liking?”

  “It was simply wet leaves,” Darcy answered. “I am certain in a moment, as soon as I have recovered my breath, I shall be well and able as ever to return to Netherfield.”

  “Longbourn is closer,” Elizabeth said, as she motioned for William to do something.

  Darcy’s eyes grew wide as William knelt at his feet and placed his hands on Darcy’s ankle.

  “I know the boot has likely saved you any serious injury,” William said apologetically. “However, if I do not assure my sisters that you are well, one of them will likely take on the task of examining your ankle in my stead.” He shot a displeased look at Elizabeth, who pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

  Darcy willingly allowed William to prod and poke his ankle before bending it this way and that. He did not wish for Miss Elizabeth to conduct such an evaluation. She was distracting enough just standing there.

  Darcy blew out a breath when William moved to stand up. “As I said, all is well.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms. “Then I should like to see you stand on it.”

  “Do you not believe I can?” Darcy questioned.

  “You nearly hid your discomfort,” she answered. “Longbourn is closer,” she added.

  “I can ride my horse. There is no need to walk, so it makes little difference whether I stop at Longbourn or continue to Netherfield.”

  “The surgeon can be summoned faster from Longbourn than Netherfield, and the longer you l
et that foot hang at the side of your horse, the more swollen it will become.”

  “Are you always so argumentative?” Darcy snapped. His foot was throbbing, and she was correct. He did not know which was worse.

  “Only when speaking to someone with little sense,” Elizabeth retorted. “Do as you will, but I do hope you do not mind having your boot cut off our foot. It seems a waste to ruin such a nice piece of leather.”

  “We could remove the boot now,” Bingley suggested.

  “No!” Darcy growled. “Just help me onto my horse.”

  “Come, Jane,” Elizabeth said. “Give William the apple.” She was already mounting her horse with William’s help.

  It seemed to Darcy that William was always ready to bend to his sister’s will, and Miss Elizabeth with the fine eyes? Well, she was nothing more than a harridan in a pretty package. Bingley could call at Longbourn if he wished, but Darcy would not be setting one foot outside of Netherfield, not that he could at present even if he wished to do so. Blasted leaves! He gritted his teeth as he placed his weight on his foot and managed to hoist himself onto his horse.

  “We will send someone for the surgeon,” Miss Bennet assured Mr. Bingley before following Elizabeth.

  “You do not need to see me home,” Darcy said to William.

  William shook his head. “You almost convinced me.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Darcy asked.

  “I thought perhaps my source was painting you with a cruel brush as you did not appear to be as cold as he described. However, I see I am wrong.”

  “Your source is a liar,” Darcy snapped.

  “I had thought so as he did tend to be very good at changing a story to suit the crowd around him, but what kind-hearted gentleman rejects the help of a lady who is thinking only of his wellbeing? He does not. An arrogant one does.” He clucked to his horse and rode a distance away before turning and stopping to look back. “I cannot stop you from calling at Longbourn, but I shall not be recommending either of you to my sisters or my father.”

  “Well done,” Bingley grumbled. “And no, I shall not be marrying your sister just because you have ruined my chances with Miss Bennet.”